Distorting time

It's around midday on a Saturday in December, but it doesn't feel anything like Summer or even close to Christmas for me, because I am in Melbourne and the sky is dark and cloudy and I'm wearing flannel pyjama pants. I grew up in a place where, by this time of the year, it would be nearing the late 30's and from September onwards no one wore closed-in shoes. I love a lot of things about living in Melbourne, but the schizophrenic weather is not one of them. Since I moved here, everyone is always asking me to compare Melbourne with Sydney, forcing me to declare which one I like best. Truthfully, I don't mind one over the other- I like and dislike a lot of things about both (mostly falling into the categories of bars, people, food and public transport). And the whole time I've been in Melbs I've still travelled up to Sydney with alarming frequency (at one point once a week for 3 months for work), so that often I forget where I am or supposed to be living and twice tried to check in for a flight to Sydney AT Sydney airport. But after a childhood in Perth, where Summer lasts for 6 months, I have never been able to get my head around the idea that it will rain in December. It makes no sense.

In between typing this I am making hashbrowns- the kitchen is full of oily smoke. I'm making them in an attempt to pull G out of bed, even thought, instinctively, I know that he should be sleeping.

We had a late night last night, but a sober one after a few drunken ones. We went to the Inpress Christmas party- in their headquarters in Abbortsford and by the time we arrived at 10.30pm (after being in bed watching Dexter for most of the night) the toilets were blocked and there was vomit in the alley. Everyone was happily unsober and falling over each other. I saw so many familar looking people- bands and models and bloggers- all wasted and messy and soooo entertaining. I felt very, very isolated in my soberness. We were invited by our friends, Keith! Party who played at just before midnight in an explosion of glitter, streamers, balloons and novelty ties. They are the craziest, most hyper, nicest, sweetest bunch of people- it's like someone forgot to tell them that they are good enough to be hipster assholes.

This is the only photo I took and it is not very good.



We are playing another gig tonight and it's a big one for us- at the Espy, in the basement, around midnight, playing alongside a couple of electro-bands. We met one of those bands on Thursday night when they came to our gig at Pony and again, such nice, genuine people. Since entering this music game I am consistently shocked that everyone is so damn nice. I'm not sure what I expected- maybe more competitive idiots, but (so far) we have only met lovely, normal people, who are supportive and funny and like us, work day jobs in banks and offices and publishing companies.

I guess I should clarify a few things: I don't play in the band- I am the manager/ booker/ personal chef/ personal assistant/ costumer / lyrics editor/ set designer/ roadie/ girlfriend of the lead singer. Maybe one day I'll write about how this happened and why I'm involved and what it means, but it's part of a much larger story (the story of my relationship) so I'll save it for another time.


And some other things about me:

- I live with G, in a tiny, tiny flat in Collingwood and I am very very happy, but we used to live in Bali, in a massive villa and I'm sure I was happier there.
- I wear a full face of makeup nearly every day, not because I have to, but I LOVE putting on makeup.
- I have a disability, it is called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, it's kind of hard to explain, but it means that my joints don't work very well and I've had lots of operations and falls and I'm not sure what it will mean for me later in life. I try not to let my disability define me, which is easy enough because it is not very visible, however it does affect me and often dictates what I can and cannot do.
- I shop, a lot. When I'm sad, hungry, angry, overwhelmed, need control, need comfort, need to celebrate.
- I cook and eat, a lot. When I'm sad, hungry, angry, overwhelmed, need control, need comfort, need to celebrate.
- I am restless and constantly want to move, travel and take off.

G is awake!

You are an engineer

It's late on a Friday afternoon. I'm hungover and have the kind of dehydration that lingers all day, not matter how much powerade, tea or vats of plain water are consumed. I decided to start this blog about an hour ago, then the internet went down and I saw it as a sign and nearly changed my mind. But someone on VF, who has a blog, likes my comments and told me I should start one. Thanks Natonika!

Truthfully I have been toying with the idea for a while and have gone as far as starting two previous blogs- that have only dismal solo introductory posts and terrible layouts. After writing those first posts and then publishing them, I was immediately filled with dread- that what I wrote was horrible and wanky and not me at all. And I was also panicked by the amount of administration attached to blogging- the photos, search for topical issues, worry about privacy all just seemed so time-consuming and fiddly. I was also hesitant about- well, being crap at blogging. About writing things that no one was interested in, about sounding like an idiot, about looking fat, about being just another twenty-something with an online record of drunkeness, consumerism and occasional sadness.

Then I read a guest post on Radio Carly by Sydney Shop Girl and she said something that has stuck with me for the last few days- that her blog is essentially an almost permanent record of a period of her life (or something to that effect). I think I'd like that record.

I write in a tiny Moleskin journal a few times a week, or sometimes only when I travel and lately, only when I'm upset (so not often). I keep all my journals and periodically I flick through them and play the 'what was I doing this time last year' game. I like seeing how my relationships, priorities and emotions change. I like knowing that I am still not worried about the same stupid boyfriend problems that plagued me in 2009 and 2008. I am humoured by how many meals I have written about- these notebooks are typically greasy and stained from months of scrawling in cafes and restaurants.

This year, stereotypically, has flown. I think I would have liked a better record of it than Facebook photos and status updates. I think that this time next year I would like to have captured something more personal. Even though, it is obviously very, very public.

The title of this post is from Brian Eno's Oblique Strategies - a deck of cards that Eno uses to find inspiration during his producing or composing. Like a Magic 8 ball, I often use them when I have to make decisions or when I get stuck writing. While I waited for Netspace to fix their technical problems I flicked through the deck and landed on 'You are an engineer'. And that's when I decided to start this blog.