astute observations of an off-tangent life

Noticing that its approaching the end of the month of April, and squidging slowly into the month of Me (sorry Im in the mood to be self centred- the most of you will understand this to be the month of May). Perhaps its time for a proper update instead of leaving it just at one of those abstract tree trunk things. I love it though, dont you?

I haven’t had time to write a proper wordy post in the past ten, twenty odd days and I blame it on being bored with my social life and busy as hell with my academic life. My moods fluctuate, and some days its like sunshine and other days its just all gloom and doom. Much like the weather actually. What an astute observer of life I am. Well, I have to confess that no level of astute observation on my part gives me understanding to the kind of tangent my life is making right now. Zilch idea. So I’ve got a million of essays to nigger at the back of my mind 24-7 right, and it turns out the second most important list I seem to be making on a daily basis is my grocery list. What do you make of life like that? Very exciting (says astute observation skills). I mean the supermarket’s a consumer minefield you know. And I’m cooking a lot of my meals these days…so… a little something different everyday anyway. A girl’s gotta plan what shes gotta plan. It doesn’t help to live with a housemate who thinks it normal to read all nutrition facts before purchase. I mean I don’t do it, but I dont want to be judged for an extra gram of sugar ya know. Sullying new housemate relations… not good.

Meanwhile, I seem to have grown in lust -interesting but short and fleeting experience for the very diplomatic and embarassed me. I mean, my friend accused me of wanting to jump on him- how embarassing it that! Object of lust: all of Eyes, dimples, a good frame, good cheek and a large dose of rationality. Mmm. And then I decide to fall out of it (as much as these decisions can be made logically), because hey enough of this already, when’s the real One coming? Shit I’m sick of liking random people.

On a related note since we are talking about reality here, the ex-fuckedup F (standing for Future) -or so it seemed during my year end holiday drought- has presently morphed into patientlydocilebut!imminent F (unfortunately still standing for Future). It beckons, promising huge pots of gold at times, and other times longkangs and longkangs of putrid nemesis. *my dear aussies: longkangs=public drains* Cue appropriate soundtrack- I don’t know. Whatever is your soundtrack for that bit of plot in your life, turn the amps up if you’re feeling as Dohhhhh as me.

The other day, one short officed-up guy during knock off peak hour walked down a very busy train platform, repeating word for word the commuter intercom. So he went something like, This train runs express from Melbourne Central, to Richmond, Richmond to Boxhill, Boxhill to… And again and again he repeated it, wiith a stony expression and a crooked tie. The very astute and perceptive yours truly, thought that it was a very good critique of the mundanity of modern life- all repetitive and humdrum – and it solicted a few bemused commuter smiles including giggling from me. Turns out my astute observations were kind of off the mark when my other housemate (who doesn’t read food labels) informs me that the guy is autistic. He (my housemate) knows because he’s wanted to kill him when he shared the same train line with him and my romantic-critic-of-modern-life just wouldn’t shut the fark up. Not as romantic as I thought huh. Well. Which is why I think the truth- reality god-inducing-truth that is, is most of the time wrong. Just wrong.

Bum-outs this month include missing two deadlines by a day, missing one final shortlist that would have taken my novice short play to the stage, and falling ill (although 50% of the time I like being ill). Good stuff includes moving on finally to the burbs, completing essays and still in one piece generally, lots of healthy soy products, one party, a few cheer-up friends, and one footy game (finally! i was cheering for the richmond tigers. they put up a good fight to the bullying eagles) in the big MCG.

Above: the glorious MCG

Above: my food label housemate and her Westcoast-supporting antics.

On this note, here’s to the month of Me. and You too, dear reader. Veg out.

Filed under: daily grind

the quiet hollows of a tree

Filed under: musings, places, quirks

A moment of solitude, no- two.

This was written more than a year ago, when I part-timed as a florist during my summer break back in Singapore:

For the diary. I was sitting up there on Millenia walk, in the stifling wind during my break. A consciousness dawned upon me, of the past year I’ve spent away. The awareness of the difference between solitude and solidarity. I don’t know how long I sat up there, but it was all of thoughts and conversations about and with the self. Incessant solitary chatter scrolled down the mind’s screen.

Solitude can be loneliness. But this isn’t it. I am alone but assured. I have family to return to, I know faces, I read expressions, I have a life with history. This smacks of solidarity. Solitude without solidarity was loneliness. When one acquired a raw vulnerability, when one’s body and mind was stripped bare, of layers of accountability. Your strings were cut- you’re essentially free, but you knew you were lost. You fear not having a warm voice, a knowing look cast your way, assumptions only persons who share common history can make. In new lands, you had no history. You like history.

Today, I had another such moment. Every bit as revelatory, today I glimpsed the clouds and smelt the roses on my own. I took a walk down the bike trail near my place, past a park, past houses and tree-lined avenues and notmuchelse. I’m not usually your kind of person who takes quiet walks- I like to observe activity, hear and see other people, and have my thoughts distracted and inspired all at once by them. And if I take a quiet walk, I like to take it with someone, because I don’t want to be stuck by more of myself.

But today’s walk by the oval was refreshing. I have been at my essay all week and was feeling stale. I needed air. It was good. Im falling in love with where I’ve moved to. I like the suburbs as much as I like the city. I like the non-activity as much as the activity. I like the possums of C and Im glad there are no seagulls of Swanston. While this might still be foreign land, its no longer new. And then I realised.

The countdown has started. Four more months. I have made history here. Its more important now, more than before to realise that. I am treading on what I’ll regard as history tomorrow. I am making history, history I like.

Filed under: memories, musings, places

internet is divine…

but broadband internet is holier than thou.

And I am far, too far away, from salvation.

Filed under: daily grind

Moved into the ‘burbs.

No longer- “soon.” I am moved. I was moved. I moved. Finally.

Home for the next few months is the leafy family suburbia of C, home to mums and dads and their two kids, joggers, cyclists, weekend dogs let off their leash, and ovals of soccer kids. Home has a front yard, scraggly rose bushes, eucalyptus trees and cute possums, a clean breakfast bar and quiet weekends in. Home is a tossed salad, red wine and made-from-scratch herb pasta instead of a bag of chips for dinner on Sunday. Home is Asher the black and white cat belonging to Jobo skirting around, trying to be invisible.

Home is two minutes away from the train station where I stood grinning this morning, after a splendid night’s rest (awoken by weird birds no doubt) -yes the platform where I stood this morning- watching as other suburbian commuters joined me in morning frenzy. This morning the train comes, the whistle goes, the gates fall locked, two commuters in a distance made a failed dash, the rest of us boarded. Off to the city we go.

Filed under: daily grind, places