hello goodbye

SHUT UP!

Mine, now. Best thing I've seen so far this year.

shut the door, have a seat

"Peggy, can you get me some coffee?"
"No."

I have no idea why this episode had such an impact on me. LOVE IT.

Sweltering heat. $5.50 vintage silk scarves. Crotches that jingle. Be careful be careful be careful! Tea that refuses to stay within the confines of its cup. Yes Harry, it's room 435. Walls falling off of walls. I want a Joan Holloway Barbie even though I never supported Mattel as a child, and I absolutely hate plastic toys.


Bust is nowhere near doing Christina Hendricks any justice whatsoever.

yearning to get out

I want a cottage with lots of windows that are square eyes in the wall, but not so many that leaving the house and locking up becomes tedious to the point that I will not bother to leave at all in fear that leaving one lock undone will result in my returning home to a home that is no longer mine. I want lots of couches - a low one with good back support for reading with a footstool to match, and one for afternoon naps which has just the right amount of squish, and one that can be easily vacuumed when I leave my Dorito crumbs all around me after a good Gilmore marathon. I have always been really into secret compartments, storage areas that don't look like storage areas at all and secret staircases hidden behind bookshelves Narnia-style. I like ledges below windows that are cushioned like the one in Friends where Rachel sits and looks out at the rain while the radio plays "With or Without You". I'm a fan of holes in walls that are like a ready-made shelf to showcase a fraction of your life. I would really like a place that is all white with high ceilings and a staircase in the middle of the lounge that leads up to a loft like an indoor balcony. I wish I could be minimalistic and settle for the "less is more" mentality but I always want more, even if it makes me sick, "Would you like to upgrade to a Venti?" YESSSS. I really like collecting mugs.

i have foundation on my shirt

"We can tell what is important in our life not by what we get out of it but by what we are willing to give up for it." -MM


".. if we are willing to risk a new way of living, to abandon the paralysis of analysis and make our commitment an unconditional one."

Like most things in life, easier said than done.

Photos by my beloved Chuster.

i refuse to be a virgo

I would like a herd of black leather pillows at home, please. And this girl with me at all times!


Lovisa ring, Jupiter ring, Issey Miyake "Vue" watch, leopard print tag necklace.


Espresso gelato and darlings of mine.

what is applewood, anyway?

So it may not be the most celebrated way of thinking in the 21st Century, what with the need to consider and respect and empathise, but I can't shake the belief that any way other than my way is incorrect. This may sound insanely selfish and narcissistic, but I'm sure everyone feels this way some time or other (Exhibit A - my self-assessed ability to assume the thoughts of over six billion people at any given time). Now don't get me wrong, I could not care less about the lives that strangers lead, but it's the impact of their irritating habits on me which I am left with, that makes my head go insane, like a dog chasing its own tail except that it's not a tail but a bomb which will inevitably explode and shower you with pus and sewer water.

So yes, to the person talking into their phone like a walkie talkie, you do look like an asshole, and no, it doesn't make things any clearer does it, because you still repeated your sentence more times than I could roll my eyes. And no, to the couple wearing matching black caps, T-shirts (presumably with some vomit-inducing barely-English phrase), white knee-length shorts and Crocs, you shouldn't be let through customs. To those people who stand unnecessarily close to you, with zero sense of perception and always a bad smell lingering about them, are you serious? And then there are the people. There are two kinds, and I really don't know which is worse. The ones who try to love what you love the way you love it, and always fall short by simply not having the capacity to appreciate it properly or overcompensating by trying to outdo you and make it their reason for life. Or the ones who couldn't care less; and they're the ones who you wish would, just once.

I think I'll leave my list of dislikes for another day (I've been compiling a list in my head and it's gotten longer than the Pacific Highway).

ugly green suitcases

I don't know what it is about the holidays and the end of another year that makes us look back, other than the fact that it is the end of a relatively long period of time, but looking back I really do have to admit that I've gladly shed people that I no longer need in my life, and being by myself this year has given me much time to mull over the sometimes overrated but still significant themes of life and love, and ways to find it, and whether or not we truly need it, or if it even exists. I don't know how I feel about going into another year being just as clueless as I was at the start of this one.

I've gained some sun spots, several inches on my hips, and some truly wonderful relationships with inspirational personalities I know will last til my headstone, or theirs. Blasting Angus & Julia at full volume until the photo frames start to wobble has led to friendships consisting of woolen teapots and discussions about clay imprints of the female anatomy that make it, well, female.

My life with the ones I love (you'll know if you're on that list if you check my speed dial allocations) can simply be described by these memorable words of Joey Tribbiani's:

It is a love based on giving and receiving as well as having and sharing. And the love that they give and have is shared and received. And through this having and giving and sharing and receiving, we too can share and love and have... and receive.

Thank you for making 2010 what it was. I'm not sure if you reached for the bucket as many times as I did, but let's hope 2011 brings more beer battered chips, Audrey Hepburn black silk dresses and caramel lattes into our lives!

nothing says “bienvendios” quite like a buttered floor

today i am pretending that my blog is actually a tumblr, which allows me to post up stolen pictures from elsewhere on the world wide web without knowing where they originated. here is a stunning bedroom layout i came across when Song of Style's Aimee had a mini rave about ikea furniture.


i have also, in the recent months, become more tolerant towards children (in particular the baby type) and have overcome my gag factor in the drool department, as long as it only comes in contact with a tissue or their bib and not my skin, clothing, hair or anything else i cannot dispose of. i still, however, cannot contain my disgust at fecal matter which i have had the pleasure of seeing not only in motion, but in a variety of colours i didn't know existed.


in the coming week i will embrace my inner julia and say goodbye to lazy days until december 25th (but hello to cha ching!)

and to my one and only - i love you! you make the beach and everything else gritty in my life bearable.

knock knock - i'm here

ask and you shall receive does not apply to those who dealt with your endless toothpaste diarrhoea and stringy dribble, and complaints about sand from the pit in your eyes, and your school bag being too big and your hat being too uncomfortable, and going from barbie to bratz to barbie. i am so far from being in the position to judge how offspring fail to appreciate their parents that i am football fields away from being close enough to catch a pass. (so far away that i could get myself a pretzel without having my lack of presence noticed). but honestly, it's time to wake up or have something smack you across your undeserving face and realise that having others provide what makes your life yours is unbelievably hypocritical and beyond ironic. because you are so adamant that you represent what you stand for so well, when in fact the shoes on your feet and the ones who taught you to tie the laces don't even cross your mind anymore.

peek a boo

cityrail should think about investing in signage discouraging horny behaviour upon frigid girls, particularly on a crowded service. it's sickening, nauseating even, and that's not just because i'm a bitter party of one.

when you're in year 1 and you're told to write a narrative, you have to cover all your 5 W's: who, what, when, where, why. but they always seem to leave out how, mainly because it doesn't start with W, but more recently it's occurred to me that it's the one we have to figure out on our own, regardless of the situation.

somebody keeps misspelling my name on the sportsgirl roster, apparently it's "vivvien" and it's starting to look somewhat appealing and exotic.

please don't hurt me

i have found something that gets my heart racing faster sephora. and i would much rather be run down by a car or ten tonne truck (the smiths, anyone?) than come face to face + beak with a crow, or magpie, or any other bird for that matter. i am beyond petrified of birds, the way they flap their wings, and i know that they have to do that otherwise they will drop to the ground like a sack of beans, but what is wrong with just sitting in your nest or having your nest actually be a burrow 10 feet into the ground? but i have to be careful to draw the line between hate and terror. because repeating (or more like chanting) "please don't hurt me" as i ran home this afternoon, clutching clumps of hair and my bunch of keys, instilled within me a fear that i personally think will be my strongest motivation to get my license. (my tactic is to wave the keys around my head in a circular motion so the jingling will scare the bird away, if you're wondering.) you see, a certain crow has taken to perching on the roofs of buildings and branches of trees on my regular route to and from the train station. which was why, in the days of facebook, i never joined the "i hate birds/magpies/crows" group, because their knowledge of my hate would drive them to peck the flesh out of the back of my neck. and yes, they know. just like cats know. there is something so unnerving about having things loiter behind the back of my head or the nape of my neck, which is the part of my anatomy which i most worry about coming in contact with anything at all. and has anybody noticed the growing population of ibises? where are they coming from? have they suddenly become the rabbits of the bird kingdom? or more like the homeless of the bird kingdom, because they're the only ones who balance on rubbish bins with their behinds in the air, but maybe it's something about the feathers of ibises which retain nose-wrinkling smells. and i know musicians i love are really into black crows and what they symbolise, like HELLO down the way, and it features on both of passenger's album covers. but try something else, preferably something that isn't an animal nor an allergy-stimulating plant.

and to all the people who leave urine splattered across the seats of public toilets - are you serious? try comparing YOUR hole to the hole in the toilet bowl, and you will see that there is no reason as to why you should miss. unless you're squatting, in which case i say DON'T.

"meant to be"

what is that? another one of those phrases that manages to pull down any piece of writing or script or lyric to a less than mediocre level, a weak stab at imitating something powerfully great or life-changing. "if it's meant to be, it'll happen." screw your destiny and fate that's written in the stars. and it's pathetic, really, to think that people gloss over their daily lives and turn them into emotions on pedestals, worth complaining about to anyone who has the ears to hear it. things carry worth only measured by relativity - people strive to find comfort and satisfaction, and then wonder why nothing in their life is beyond the bland mugginess of grey porridge.

i accidentally typed in "womenofquestionablemorals.logspot.com" and up came this page about God and repentance and women who literally live by questionable morals.

apparently i'm a fairy

i have come to the conclusion that eating is a much more efficient way of solving the issue of procrastination, as you must remain more or less upright whilst doing so, and once you've eaten enough it has been proven impossible to nap due to the discomfort of hours of food inching its way back into your mouth. and as i sit here with my icecream cone in one hand and typing with the other, i notice that my S and D keys have been used so much they've faded, and none of the others have.

and someone tell me why it still hasn't gotten hot enough to not have to wear pants yet? this is a disappointing year to showcase my new underwear.

transatlanticism

sometimes i feel like i'm living my life looking out at the world through the other side of a bus advertising something ridiculously useless, and my vision is clouded by a dizzying ocean of little holes. and everytime i try and sit back to see the whole picture my world can't stop shaking and i get a headache. and i find it so unsatisfying how sometimes the things you strive so hard to express come out like one steaming pile of cliches.

but, if you let your guard down just that little fraction, you'll begin to understand just how small the box within which you exist really is, whether it be a conscious decision or not. and by stepping that much closer to potential danger, you are miles closer to things that only seem to be a fictional reality. there are things that we read about which we know hold true for some, and when that door is opened to you, all that was simply a mirage becomes a solid possibility. a little bit of us exists outside ourselves, outside our bodies and our minds. an energy that lingers like a perimeter, the part of us that others talk to and the same sorts of people our logic would usually choose to ignore. part of me rests assured that reflections of things thought to be lost, aren't.

N A K E D

um hi, be mine.


urban decay naked palette

this sounds promising:
Launching next month, the Urban Decay Naked Eye Palette (approx $45) features 12 sultry shades, from nude champagne to a gritty gunmetal and includes seven of the brand's best selling colours. I've been a fan of the brand's shadows for years as they're richly pigmented and wear really well without any colour fade. With a built-in mirror and dual-ended pencil, there's everything you need if you get stranded on a desert island*. Or have a hot date last-minute. LOVE.

*LOST is currently taking up the majority of my time and energy.
thank god for ASOS. see you in october, my dear!

oedipus

the library is so peaceful, watching people absorbed in some of the most useless things ever to be taught. of course, many people would argue that these things we spend ridiculous amounts of time, energy and money on aren't useless at all - not to the economy, or the wellbeing of society, or the environment in fifty seven years. but really, are you fucking kidding? so what if we learn to understand how a lawn mower eats your weeds, or we finally manage to grasp the concept of some shitty law concerning kinetic whatever movement? people gain recognition for their ability to persevere through the most soul-deadening years of their lives, learning things they don't want to learn. and if they do find joy in such nonsense, they despise anyone who tells them that it's all a SUNK COST and more or less pages and hours of something i'd get more joy out of sprinkling hundreds and thousands onto triangular slices of buttered bread for the rest of my existence. at least it's colourful. and the best part of all, is that it's all self-inflicted. because if you don't know where you want to be, you can't get there, but where do you go in the meantime? spend day after day deciding what's better than spending day after day deciding something you know nothing of? spending your time somewhere that may not even share the same postcode with anything you wish to achieve, ever? i watch time go by and i think wow, what a waste - but even if i spent this time doing something worthwhile, the moment would pass and the clock would still tick if you remembered to keep track of its battery life. and if you could capture a moment you thought to be perfect like a firefly in a jar (i still don't understand why people do this) you would appreciate its beauty until, like everything else, it becomes obsolete and nothing more than a memory touched upon once in ten, maybe twenty years.

cos you're there for me too

Monica: Okay Phoebs, you know what you're doing right?
Phoebe: Yeah.
Monica: Okay Joey's gonna catch the ball and you and I are gonna block.
Phoebe: What's block?
Monica: Phoebe, I thought you said you knew what you're doing.
Phoebe: I thought you meant in life.

if only we were all as confident in ourselves as Phoebe Buffay, aka Princess Consuela Banana Hammock

Mike: Do you even know what a banana hammock is?
Phoebe: It's a funny word.
Mike: It's a Speedo.

put dirtballs in your pocket

I love Regina Ilyinichna Spektor.

Well maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee
and never ever watch the ten o'clock news
Maybe you should kiss someone nice
or lick a rock, or both

READING TIME WITH PICKLE

and speaking of coffee ..

LORELAI: [Sighs] I can't sleep. I can't turn my mind off. It keeps running and thinking and making lists.
LUKE: Maybe if you drank a little less coffee, you'd make a little less lists.
LORELAI: Oh, I can't stop drinking the coffee. If I stop drinking coffee, I stop doing the standing and the walking and the words-putting-into-sentence doing.

this is cold, hard, 2D proof that i need to live in the present and not in the stars hollow of 2004.

clarity

september 3rd, vault lounge: one of our favourite girls turns the big 21 - the lovely dani and her plastic-fantastic ken, and bathroom bonanza minus chuchu train!




two girls who make my life worth living, and a bag which almost tipped all my possessions under the train at wynyard station.

why do i go to uni?

you know your hair's getting long when you can tuck it into your jeans ..

currently exercising what i'm best at, ie. doing everything but facing the task at hand, or rather, on the desk in front of me, the task being to cram my freshly-washed head full of bits and pieces that will be washed away once i hear boy and bear play again, this time at the oxford art factory in october! no, probably once i drop my pen at 11am tomorrow.

nonetheless, life is a decent shade of beige, i'm above average in terms of excitement about new employment commencing sooner than i can say "i hate retail" and i cannot wait to go paint-sample-garage-sale-random-furniture-thrifting-crazy with my favourite millar!