Monthly Archives: May 2010

“It is hard to decide what to do. All the harder when what is most probably best for you is 3 hours up the coast, with the same commitment issues you have and a car named ‘Flash Gordon'”.

An unexpected phone call last night to wish me a Happy Birthday has now spiraled into a mini-break I most probably shouldn’t be taking. TDD and I were, four or so weeks ago, very happy with leaving our capsule relationship behind. We appreciated the last few weeks of fun before he embarked upon a new adventure and I was happy being single. What started as enjoyable banter is now a little painful, because it reminded me I could have been just as happy not-so single with TDD. This will serve me right for answering a telephone when I have a policy of not normally taking calls.

And to top it off, my gorgeous parents bought me a fancy-pants TomTom for my birthday. So now I cannot even use navigational retardness as an excuse for not going. Poop.

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Crocodiles goes hand-in-hand with Ellery.

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Word.

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A is for Australia: Not in a Southern-Cross-tattooed-on-my-body-and-stuck-on-my-car way but in a Sydney-is-my-favourite-city-ever, Aussie-designers-are-the-shit, I-learnt-to-surf-in-a-diaper, I-love-having-the-best-mango-crops-in-the-world way. We produce some of the best music, food and garments in the world. I’m not suprised we are so popular.

B is for Bad, Bad Music: Bands like Short Stack and their song ‘Shimmy A Go Go’ are terrible, really terrible. So is Taylor Swift now she has moved from country to sickly sugar-coated pop. N*sync is also terrible, as with Lil Wayne, Lil John and … wait, most people who preface their names with Lil. You can also bet good money that anything endorsed by a 16yr old female will not be worth paying for. Looking at you Biebs.

C is for Cotton Candy: Fairy Floss is the shit. No other food can evoke the same kind of childhood memories that fairy floss can – it’s colour, texture, taste and smell are all enveloping and when it hits your mouth it disintegrates into little bubbles of happiness.

D is for Drinkies: And in no specific order my favourite drinks (or ways to enjoy drink) include: Moscow Mule, Long Island Iced Tea, Espresso Martini, Dry Manhattan, peach schnapps and cranberry juice, Bombay Sapphire and tonic, Babichka any way it comes, proper Sangria, mulled wine next to an open fire, proper Absynthe any way it comes (Swiss or Polish or Czech, vodka watermelons (as in an actual watermelon soaking in vodka), VVSLs. I like myself some drink.

E is for Eating Myself Stoopid: Some of my favourite memories contain food. Lots and lots of beautiful food. Like my last night in Hong Kong, spent looking out over the Harbour from a gorgeous private ‘bed’ and munching through the most amazing garlic prawn dish, a traditional Thai meal cooked by local villagers whilst we trekked through remote areas, my first bills@Surry Hills experience for my 20th birthday breakfast with Max, Leila and Buch, the boozy dinners at il Baretto with Rads and Mil which were followed by boozy partying on their balcony on Crown St., getting through history classes at Wycliffe with Andrew and a bag of tamari almonds, pizza rounders on a cold winters day at BMGS. No one thinks I could love food as much as I do.

F is for Footwear: Everything except my self-control loves footwear just as much as me. All I require is that shoes are either flat, or ridiculously high – none of that kitten heel rubbish for me. Footwear should also be glittery, shiny, feathered, bejewelled or intricately woven and embellished like my favourite glitter Miu Miu pumps that are nearing retirement thanks to continuous wear.

G is for Go: I love the word Go. It has an urgency to it that I find exciting and inspiring. It makes me itch for escape and to disappear off exploring unchartered territory.

H is for Hannah: my Dior-stealing, tear-inducing, funny-as-hell Little Sister. She is yet to understand her full worth and definitely doesn’t listen to her older sister when she is told to “Leave well alone” but I won’t change her (yet). I am patiently waiting for her to go to Europe and come home with the maturity that branching out gives you. (I nearly made H for Hamish but someone would have gotten offended and every second word would have been ‘droooooool’).

I is for Ice-Queen: Supposedly, I’m quite the Ice-Queen. I do not believe this for a second, yet I was greeted at uni the other day by the comment “Wow! You should wear your hair loose more often. You look SO much more approachable”. I am not in the business of ‘being approachable’ first year uni student.

J is for Jokes: Life is one big joke. I don’t mean this in the depressing sense, I am talking about the way laughing actually gives you a life. Making it through the day without one ‘blue’ comment has become near on impossible and now, as I am older and more articulate, the dinner conversations I hold with my parents have struck that perfect balance between serious political discussion and uproariously funny social commentary. Unfort. Hannah has stopped asking for definitions of terms like ‘anal’ and ‘masturbation’ – such a well-informed 11 year old she was.

K is for Kisses: Not the biggest fan of PDA’s, at all really. Nothing worse than a couple whose FB display picture is them sucking face.

L is for Lots: Lots of things like lace, liquid paper, Lover the Label, lilac, Laudree, lemonade, limoncello, lakes, lambswool, linear patterns, lights (especially fairy lights), Lush, love letters, liking things on Facebook, lounging around the house, long gowns, lingering scents, lemons and limes, Lulu Guinness talcum powder,  LCD Soundsystem, Leader Cheetah, Lupe Fiasco and Little Joy, Liechtenstein, leggings, looping scarfs, lottery jackpots, lightweight knit jumpers, Le Vernis nail varnish, long words and lentil soup.

Stay tuned for M-Z later in the week.

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