black swans, satin vests

Monday always kicks off the week in an easy way, as it usually entails post-work workouts, family dinners and gathering around X-Factor. There is something about knowing you don’t have to go anywhere after work that makes your day seem that much shorter.

This Tuesday was so fun at work, made extra fun by a big lunch break. The four of us sat at a lovely café and pretended it was warm enough to bake in the sun.  Our waiter was wearing a vintage NFL tee, which struck up the conversation about trendy American brands and lack of actual affiliation with sports teams. It cleared up some serious confusion, as I couldn't get over how many Australians had pledged allegiance to the Yankees empire. Afterwards, I headed to Brunswick to manage the first recording for Right Now Radio. I bumped into the two radio hosts, Rachel and Ben, on the tram and they invited me for pre-radio drinks. Mind you, this is about 6 hours after I’ve eaten lunch so the glasses of wine certainly went down with a little more punch than I would have hoped. I tried my best to maintain my most sober face upon entering the RRR radio station, amidst the radio gods and interviewees. Our first broadcast went without  hitch: great interviews, fascinating topics discussing everything from disability rights to indigenous rights and a general sense of comfortability in the work space. 

Work this Wednesday was lovely, as always, and post work, I headed to the Convent to get my improv on. The train ride homes usually involve Hannah, Katie and I discussing the evening’s activities, who the strangest partner is in the paired activities (there is a lot to choose from in that regard) and how to get work in the budding film industry. Katie also told us about her first “scene of passion”, which had occurred earlier that week for a student film. The film industry is a funny one, particularly when one must feign an intimate bedroom scene with a complete stranger in the company of a crew of cameramen and directors.

Thursday was a bit of an administrative day, running between work and gym and efforts at baking Mississippi Mudcake for the big party on Friday. I also received the best "America" package from home, intact with candy corn, Pop Tarts and apple butter. Mom really knows how to spoil/fatten her children! 

Today, I stayed at work for the full Friday not only because I enjoy it tremendously, but also because, at this point, I probably couldn’t take on another album to review. Currently, there is a stack of albums in my room, glaring at me for my tardiness in their assessment. After work, I went to Annie’s house for her “Girls Night In” party, which was a huge fundraiser for Breast Cancer and other typically female cancers. Everyone was meant to dress in pink and bring sweets and the house was decorated in paper mache hearts and flowers from the garden and watering tins. I couldn’t help but pause every so often to note the levels of estrogen pulsing through the room, only made more tangible by the decibels of the voices. At one point, I’m sure everyone was screaming at each other. 

It must be noted that "Girl Parties" go as follows:

Host: Everyone is welcome to eat!

Guests: Silence. General shuffling, shifting eye contact, an overall, unsaid commitment to not be the first one eating.

Host: Come on ladies, the food won’t eat itself!

Fattest Girl at the Party: I’ll have some (she has now willingly sacrificed herself for the greater good, thus earning the title of “Fattest Girl at the Party”. This is regardless of size. She is noted for being nice to have at parties because she makes everyone feel better about their choices regarding carbohydrate consumption)

Guests: more shuffling, movement closer to the general vicinity of the food. This is called the “breathing it makes me taste it and is thus comparable to ingesting it” trick.

Skinniest Girl at the Party: I’ll split half of this miniature cupcake with someone? Have to fit into my dress at the races this weekend, so. Not too much for me.

Guests: Totally. Such a good idea! You’re so skinny! Lets all split the miniature cupcakes. Even if we eat four half pieces, not quite the same as eating two!

This is typical of female parties with skinny people. This is also typical behavior in asylums.

This Saturday was one of my most fun in Melbourne. I woke up circa 6:45am to get to Brett and Kappy’s Crossfit competition and made it in time to see the boys shine in their respective events. Such a proud moment, they were both so good! Though hugely proud and engrossed in their competition, I was still having a hard time understanding the phenomenon of watching people work out. Literally, a gym packed with spectators to watch people lift weights in a twenty minute time block with the background of American Top 40 hip hop.  This would be like paying to watch actors rehearse. Not to see the play but rather the process before the play. Strange concept. These thoughts clouded my mind until the men started removing the bindings of their t-shirts. I was fine then.

Afterwards, I headed to Penny’s Park Day Party at the Royal Botanical Gardens. It was the most beautiful Spring day, the sun was shining until nearly 7:30pm. Penny’s lovely family set up blankets and beautiful chicken salad sandwiches and treats and the day was spent basking in the sunlight in the midst of the shimmering river and blossoming flowers. Sports were played in the background of a radio murmuring Australian hits and conversation was full of cider-tinged laughter and easy contentment. The girls looked beautiful in their spring wear, lots of floppy hats and flowing skirts and the boys were happy to put on their shortest shorts (in true Australian form) in honor of the weather. The only happening to mar the otherwise perfect afternoon was the pack of black swans that attempted to become members of the picnic. In my opinion, these swans could have stayed on their lake and all would have been well and good. However, those who had imbibed more cider than I felt it was best to lure the swans to the picnic and try to have a cuddle with the baby swans. I stayed as far away as possible but the swans, consistent with any other animal I’ve ever feared, decided I would be the best object of torment. Though I tried to explain my movtives clearly to the red-eyed devil, the mother (and later, the father) swan continued to appear wherever I chose to sit or stand, threatening my existence with their obvious malice. 

I went for dumplings with Ellie, Josh and Podge and afterwards, met everyone from the Park Party at Vic Bar. Ivan and Kevin are some of the best dancers in Melbourne and the combination of the group of us on the dance floor is a pretty lethal one. The dinner group and I met Manos, Ed and Carlos for a bit of salsa dancing at Be Latin in the city. Els and Josh soon left, probably more out of fear of the abundant sequin and satin in the place, but Carlos and I shared a few sassy rounds of salsa. So fun to be back in a Miami-esque setting! After a strange choreographed routine by people wearing satin vests (I’ll offer you no further explanation on that because I have none), we headed to Carlton Club. This multi-level club is adorned with a lot of velvet and taxidermy and that night, I was determined to leave that place with an ostrich feather. And I did. Manos, Ed and I had the best night of dancing and apparently earned the trust of the fedora-donning DJ, who, when needing a bathroom break, asked us to make sure “no one went into his booth”. In return for our guarding, he would grant us a song of choice and holding true to his promise, played us the Kanye we had been desiring all night long.

Sunday, I was sufficiently “stuffed” as the Australians say. Martha and I lounged around and Ciara called in and generally, it was a lazy Sunday. I committed to a massive beach run, however, and afterwards, met up with Bretts, Holly, Lauren and DB for the nicest dinner prepared by Chef Holly. I use chef very seriously because Holly prepares the most gourmet meals I’ve ever experienced. This meal,on the surface, seemed pretty simple: the offer of hamburgers promised traditional American fare and conjured up the image of yellow mustard and pool parties. Alas, the buns were homemade, the sauce of choice was homemade aioli and the French fries were hand cut and roasted in garlic and rosemary. Not your traditional 4th of July pool party fare by any stretch.

Tunes tunes tunes! Enjoy xo


El Perro del Mar: Hold Off the Dawn
http://www.myoldkentuckyblog.com/?p=36122

Desire: Tears from Heaven
http://www.gorillavsbear.net/2012/10/31/video-new-desire-tears-from-heaven/

Laura Gibson: Deschutes River Recording
http://pitchfork.com/tv/youtube/21-deschutes-river-recordings/504-laura-gibson/

Alt-J: "Slow Dre"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sz3Qr5SaU2Q


LOTS of love and hugs xo

dinner silence and cool translator

Sorry guys, still a week behind. Somehow time continues to move forward at a pace more rapid than the week before!

This week I began my first official, full week at the new blog.  I so enjoy the company: our lunch breaks are full of banter and weekend anecdotes. And the relationship with the café downstairs means lots of free coffee and tea, which is always a plus. There is also a coveted music chord, which when hooked to your computer means the entire office is subjected to your tunes. I continue to try to prove my music taste worthwhile to my boss, who trusts me more now that I’ve declared my love for bluegrass in addition to obscurity. I had the night off tonight and of course, made it back from the gym in time for a rousing round of X-Factor.  The whole family unit is really addicted, each taking a vested interest in a performer and mercilessly critiquing the performances of the others. Not as friendly as you were imagining, hey?

Tuesday continued our exciting improv performances (still festival time here!) and we had quite the stacked audience. Brett, Kaps,  Holly, Mrs. Noone and Ciara all spared their Tuesday night to watch us perform. The performers (i.e Martha, Hannah and I) left a bit distraught but our endlessly supportive attendees promised it wasn’t as painful as we were imagining. Afterwards, we ventured to a nearby bar and found ourselves in the middle of easily the most challenging game of trivia ever played. It was soundtracked to current music but confused by the televisions streaming some of the best videos out of the 90's. I'll take "Don't Speak" as a background any day.

This Wednesday, I took a bit of a leap of faith in my talent and gave Improv Melbourne a try. It is the leading company here and the important place to be for any type of serious improv work. The class was cool, full of very supportive and interested people and despite coming 30 minutes late (a very long commute/bus ride mishap), the instructor was more than receptive to my presence. I was really taken by some of the characters in the class, particularly the male who undoubtedly served as the model for the “Kronk” character in Emperor’s New Groove. I really mean it- I’ve never seen such a caricature of a face in my life. I immediately bonded with an Irish girl called Katie and we trained home, discussing theater ambitions and American tendencies to be competitive in nearly every setting. She had picked up on my intensity in class, apparently.

After work on Thursday, I met Bretts, Jimmy, Kappy and Ellie for an Indian feast. We ate like sultans for $10.oo. It should be noted that I learned a very valuable lesson at this dinner. When people are engaging in the consumption of their food, it is not acceptable to attempt to initiate conversation. When silence fell upon the table, I took this as a cue to ask an innocent and overarching question: "How was everyone’s week?” The response to this was close to murderous (largely glares and exasperated groans) and as a result, I will continue to practice feeling comfortable in food-induced silence. We went to an incredible gig afterwards (showed off some of their tunes last week) and Lauren, Holly and I felt inspired to pick up the cello and marry a guitar-wielding male. Ali Barter and Vance Joy performed for a very excited crowd packed into a wooded bar, with a really whimsical decor of autumnal tones and floral backdrops. The performance of note, however, was not either headliner. Rather, it was the drummer whose facial expression varied from worrisome anger (will he attack the singer, we wondered aloud) to pure joy (alas, he will not because he seems really ecstatic). On the ride home, we basked in the giddiness present from experiencing such a talent-filled show and our sing-alongs were certainly worthy of some Mahogany Blog representation.

Friday, I headed into Beat after work and was gifted with the greatest of all things: the chance to do album reviews. My editor summoned me to his desk (his speech and general being is endlessly in a state of a hung-over drawl) and asked me if I was up for reviewing some of the latest album releases. At Beat, I often find myself masking my excitement in an attempt to not overwhelm the “coolness” around me, i.e. the people who show a limited range of emotion, fluctuating from mild semi-interest to apathy. Thus, I contained my “Oh my gosh! That would be the coolest!” and deferred to my mental “Cool Translator”: “Yeah, that would be rad. I’ve been checking some of these out, so I’m cool to write on them”.  Thank you mental translator.

I headed to Brunswick after Beat for the big Friday show, which was arguably one of the better improv shows I’ve been in.  We were short on cast so the group was intimate, which lent itself to a tremendously close and connected group dynamic. The improvised musical number at the end was way more Irving Berlin than we thought we could pull off and the audience nearly erupted at my Lauryn Hill-esque ode to a stapler earlier in the show.

Hania was visiting from the UK, so Pece picked me up to amble around St. Kilda with Bretts and Kaz. We met Hania’s boyfriend Rich, whose close association with Prince William was only exacerbated by his regal intonation and word choice. We had a great night playing a highly competitive game of Jenga in a bar boasting everything from a bed to a fish tank to BBQ grills in its interior.

Saturday started with a delicious brunch on Chapel Street with Hania, Rich, Pece and Bretts. We had a wander in the sunshine afterwards and window shopped effectively- no purchases made! I squeezed in a quick beach run between strolling and the final improv show. The full cast in tow, our last show failed to meet the standards set by the previous night but there were laughs to be had despite some obvious conundrums. I caught up with Hannah and her sister afterwards and at one point, I think the shrillness of our voices accurately mirrored the excitement of our exchanges. Our anecdotes were just too funny, I guess,  and we didn’t take the hearing needs of other patrons into consideration.

Sunday was a lovely bonding day for Martha and me. The weather was incredible so we basked in the sun and listened to music, opting for a beach walk for further Vitamin D absorption. I went to the market to buy supplies for dinner for the family and ended up planning one of the seller's upcoming trip to the states. Feeling pleased with such a cool human connection,  I ventured to the hot yoga class at the gym, coming home feeling peaceful and ready to try my hand at Thai food. Success! 

So many good songs this week, had a hard time choosing!

Deerhoof: Sexy, But Sparkly

http://famousclass.bandcamp.com/album/lamc-4

Daniel Rossen: Untitled

http://soundcloud.com/drossenbro/untitled-december-2009

La Sera: Break My Heart

http://www.myoldkentuckyblog.com/?p=35948

Haim: Don't Save Me

http://soundcloud.com/overmuziek

Lots of love xoxoxo

24 cloves of garlic

Sorry guys, this one is for the week before last. I’m officially a week behind and so sorry about it.

I had this Monday off, which was such a lovely respite after a crazy weekend. The sun came out for my day off and I tended to errands I hadn’t accomplished because of a 9-5. The biggest one was the first set of postcard send-offs, something I had been aiming to do since I got here. Send me your address and you can get your very own postcard in tact with a kangaroo’s apparently grinning face and my undying commitment to script (the only way to write a letter). Monday night, Martha, Hannah and I headed into Fitzroy for the rehearsal for our show in the Fringe festival. The show is being held in a bookshop called “Hares and Hyenas” and you should know that the only literature available in the bookshop is homoerotic “how tos” and hyper-sexualized cartoons. Rehearsal went well despite the graphic surroundings

Tuesday was our first show and it really was the premiere of the century. Well, nearly. There is a game in the show where the audience tells a story and picks a style of music and I have to create a song (verses, chorus and all) based on that prompting. Usually, I lean towards a more blues or jazz genre but tonight I was gifted with “dub step”, as desired by the audience member. Have you ever tried to make a dub step song with just your voice? Try it and see how successful you can’t be.

Wednesday I started at my new blog in trendy South Melbourne. I’m working with Pippa and Charlie and though it sounds like a Dickens novel, it is an exciting new venture (the best of times and the worst of times, if you will). We took our lunch break in the sun and Charlie treated us to cakes and pastries from the café below, with whom they have a lovely working relationship. I met up with Annie in the city afterwards for a music journalism workshop. Such a cool night! People working for the premiere music-oriented websites, magazines and television stations had an intimate “this is what my life is and how I got here and how I got to speak to Billy Corgan over coffee” session. So interesting to hear about the music journalism scene as something so viable and profound- there were arguments that album reviews can rival the literature of the times. Loved that! Met up with Uncle Jim for trendy Mexican afterwards (scoff Americans, scoff) and was barely let in by the guy at the front wearing suspenders and jean capris. The exchange was as follows:

Suspender/Jean Capri combo guy: I know you’re meeting someone, but we might not have room for you.

Me: Seriously? I can see him from here. He’s right by the bar. His name is Jim.

Suspender/ Jean Capri combo guy: Hi Jim.

Me: I’m not Jim. He is Jim.

Suspender/Jean Capri combo guy: Right. Except that we probably don’t have seats for you.

Me: There are two next to him. I can’t actually tell if you’re kidding.

Suspender/Jean Capri combo guy: I’m not kidding.

That, American friends, is how cool Mexican is in Australia.

Thursday was another day at the new blog and a lunch spent hanging out at the café downstairs. After work, I headed to Brunswick for our first official radio stint at RRR, the NPR equivalent in the states. Such a cool station-the headquarters are here in Melbourne, so everything being heard comes through right where I was standing. Like NPR, RRR is on top of everything important: music, culture and world news and the best part is, I get to be in the thicket of all of it! I got to meet the team with whom I’ll be working and start combing through the equipment for future production management. Afterwards, I headed to Chapel Street to catch “On the Road” with Ciara, Penny and Martha. Such an important story to put to film, I was so eager to see the characters with whom I created such an intimate understanding and bond put on a screen.

I worked Friday morning until about 2:30 then headed into Richmond for none other than the love of my life, Beat. Today was “Hat Day” at Beat and the discovery of a Sultan-esque hat prompted “Turkish 90’s Music Trivia Day”, which then evolved into “What I Remember About American 90’s Music Day” and “Why Rick Ross Should have an Australian Tour Day”. As you can see, my days spent at the music magazine are some of my favorites to note. Afterwards, I met up with Brett, Kappy, Jimmy and a few new additions at what was the most tragic attempt at a restaurant ever to be experienced. Kappy chose the restaurant, “Auction Rooms”, in the hopes of appearing to be the “foodie” of our group of friends and arguably, to continue in his pursuit of impressing me. So, we were faced with a menu of four options, one of which was a chicken with 24 cloves of garlic for $70 (in the chicken’s defense, it was a meal to be shared) and Jerusalem artichoke. Needless to say, the table was up in arms at both the prices and the content of the menu. However, the waitress (a Pulp Fiction era Uma Thurman look-alike) patrolled our table until our nerves/pride/combination of both prompted us to order things like “skate” and “pork floss” with bated breath. Somehow, by some intervention of the restaurant gods, Uma Thurman-waitress returned to tell us that our meal was going to take 45 minutes. Alas, we were given our “way out” as the show we were seeing post-dinner opened its doors in 30 minutes. We tried to act less happy than we felt in apologizing for inconveniencing them but our joy couldn’t be masked as we dashed for the door. We raced to Urban Burger, greeting the disgruntled teenaged employees with insurmountable (and for the rest of the clientele, inexplicable) passion for their burger patties and oily French fries. Afterwards, we caught a hugely enjoyable improv show starring the esteemed Dr. Brown. The show is silent, progressed only by his character work and audience involvement. He is actually incredible in his physicality- the hour passes by as if it were a second and you feel like you saw a full cast perform.

Saturday, I hung out with my older lady friends at Body Pump in the morning then got ready for the epic all-day concert with Holly, Lauren, Brett and Kappy. The venue was full of felt couches and we called the closest spot to the hand-crafted wooden stage. So many cool acts: all acoustic performances by local Aussie musicians. Holly, Lauren and I fell in love with each new guitar-toting male. After the frozen night started to set in, Kappy, Brett and I took our frozen selves to Nandos for our traditional meal and post-concert debrief.

Sunday, I met up with Jan for a lovely brunch and catch-up. Afterwards, I trained to Ellie and we strolled along the beachside at the St. Kilda Sunday markets. We took in the fleeting moments of sunshine and discussed futures and bad bridesmaid dress colors whilst examining guitar pick necklaces and terry cloth onesies. I came home to grab dinner with Martha before we headed to see “Choir Girl”, another incredible one-woman show. The show, written, produced by and starring Sarah Collins, was so impressive and so fun. We were singing along the whole time and also secretly plotting how to write an equally profound script.

Beautiful tunes this week!

Unknown Mortal Orchestra: Swim and Sleep (Like A Shark)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSNHofCE4rg

Breakfast: Grizzly Adams

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_-Zg6yIAuw

Ali Barter: Marigold

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JizMb4SseA

Vance Joy: Riptide

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5VM5Zco9Rg

Lots of love and hugs xoxox

mattress covers and law degrees

Sorry this one is so late, the pace has really picked up around here!

Monday, I committed to watching the film “Gigantic” after a lovely dinner with the Noones. I’m trying to get as many films in during the week as possible, an ambition that usually results in a staggering one or two. That being said, I watched “Gigantic” on Brett’s recommendation and as a continued commitment to the glorious Paul Dano.

Tuesday was such a lovely day. Sun was almost shining and I had an hour break after work to sit in a coffee shop and drink nice green tea and watch the sun go down. Afterwards, I met up with Hannah and we went to this amazing exhibition. The artist was a friend of Hannah’s who used mattress covers to create Renaissance era clothing pieces. Massive gowns, high collared vests all created from the material covering your bedsprings! Not only did she create and style the pieces, she painted huge canvases that rested behind the gowns. Said canvases had celebrities like Keith Richards painted on them, wearing her fashions. The celebrities varied in age and genre but were amazingly human-like and even better, rocking her outfits. Such an impressive exhibition and further, such an impressive artist!

Wednesday I took on the new challenge of boxing at the gym. I’ll never go back to standard Wednesday cardio. What a workout! The camaraderie in the class is also tangible, with everyone supporting each other in all of the partner work and throughout the grueling circuits. Except for the guy with small hands who always ended up being my partner. I was no less excited about it than he was. He kept trying to work the circuits so that he could partner with his strange girlfriend and essentially corrupted the entire established system. Unfortunately, his frustration for the establishment (and/or his small hands) was taken out on both my hands and the punching bag I had to hold for him.

Thursday was Girl’s Night with Martha and Rach at Jackie’s beautiful house. After an ambitious drive, we pulled up to Jackie’s home, the front of the house composed of two story windows overlooking an impressively diverse and abundant garden. When you first walk in, you’re immediately surrounded by an Eastern ambiance, an ambiance created by the coy pond and various Buddha idols littered throughout the garden. The house winds into a wooden kitchen, with warm walls and darkly colored curtains that assured a rustic pizza-having experience. The ambiance was perturbed only by the cat door through which the cat moved quite violently, often causing us to fear some type of intruder. We made homemade pizzas (Jackie providing us with homemade dough as a base!) with the most beautiful toppings of salmon and feta and fresh vegetables. The dynamic was just so good, a tangible and female connection was very present in our recounting embarrassing stories, high school flames and travel loves.

Friday, I got to go into the music magazine office and kick my weekend off in the best way. The moment I was sure that it is the best place to work ever was when my writing manager came around with “the beer cart”, a customary practice for 6pm on Fridays. I went to Shabbat at Brett’s house after and we committed to a good ol’ Friday night movie with Steph and Kaz. We watched Taken and I was forced to “keep my comments to myself” (I began to suggest that there was a rampant case of overacting in the film) and worship Liam Neeson alongside the men in the house.

Saturday, I went to the gym early in the morning with the ambition of “starting my day off right”, though a case for staying in bed could certainly be made. I also knew the afternoon held Grand Final parties. The Grand Final is our Superbowl equivalent and the whole of Melbourne was rapt with the afternoon of Australian football ahead. Ever the party-hosters, the Noones threw a party to celebrate the football and the neck-in-neck competition. Afterwards, I met up with Brett and Matty for a night at the exclusive ‘Liberty Social’, where the hip go to pretend to dance poorly but not care because it is ironic. We did just that and followed it up with late night chips and taxis. As we waited in the taxi ranks, we befriended everyone around us, reaching out in solidarity of being way too cold, slightly inebriated and too tired to still be wearing heels.

Sunday, I met Ellie, Matty and Brett for brunch at a lovely little place called “Spout”. It has become quite a routine for us and our Sunday debriefs always provide tremendous laughs. I stayed with Ellie and went to the fruit market (“the best in town” as assured by Els) then went on to Maddie’s house to catch up and have tea. We combed through her latest Spring fashions and committed to tutoring Australia’s youth in the variety of languages we could offer, essentially monopolizing the tutoring market and fostering globalization one child at a time. Afterwards, I cooked a big soup (that’s right guys, still freezing here) for the new “college house”. The Noone parents left for the week so we’ve officially established a bachelor/bachelorette pad intact with baked scones and chicken noodle soup. Getting wild. Caught my third movie of the week (beating the odds!) and watched “Blow” with Martha, Jack and his friend, Seb. Seb was very moved by the film, the poor dear. His 17 year old mind was pretty upset by the idea of a life so wrought with sadness. I advised him not to get into the drug trade and also to not get a law degree.

Love you guys so much! Here are some great tunes!

Taken By Trees: Large

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rTc8Bv4Xk0

Perfume Genius: Take Me Home

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hrpr5ARPO84

The Concretes: You Can't Hurry Love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTdwQG3pGKQ

The Walkmen: Dance With Your Partner (yay!)

http://www.myoldkentuckyblog.com/?p=35542

lots of love xx

don't talk to strangers

Monday was a continuation of the New Year's feast from the previous evening. Second Night was held at a family friend of Brett's and the feast was nothing short of amazing. All prepared by Cecile, the dinner began with unbelievable perogis in chicken soup broth, followed by the most diverse and abundant variety of beautiful salads and vegetables, succeeded by hearty briskets and and schnitzels and brought home by homemade ice cream, passionfruit meringue and decadent honey cake. We sat at the "kids table" with the rest of the "kids", most of whom have accounting or law degrees. The entertainment for the night was one of the cousins who, due to his Asperger's Syndrome, is a musical savant. He was actually incredible. His repertoire (all memorized) spanned the last century of music and he comfortably brought out his guitar and performed an array of numbers for a tremendously impressed audience. He even explained Robert Johnson's origins to the crowd in an American accent, so as to accommodate my "ear" and pay homage to Johnson's homeland.

Tuesday, I made it home in time to catch a session of "Body Pump". What I feared would be an intense class of intimidatingly muscular men and incessant amounts of grunting actually resolved itself to be a class full of older women who were committed to combatting osteoporosis. Regardless, the class itself is an excellent workout and led by a woman with the coloring of Hulk Hogan and the biggest hair extensions I've ever seen up close. Afterwards, I went to Maddie's house for a catch-up and we ate beautiful lentil soup and fresh fruits, discussing humanitarian ventures and existing in a perpetual state of academia.

Wednesday, I went for dinner at Annie's house, where we had a risotto and cobbler in the name of comfort food. The winter continues on here and feels like it is only getting colder. Since this is a valid excuse to eat incessantly thick and indulgent meals, we figured we should capitalize on it. Jess and Lauren joined and we sat with blankets in the kitchen, listening to some of the radio's newest tunes and chatting about how to have male roommates and survive the experience.

Thursday was a lovely evening, kicked off with an intense spin class. The instructor wanted this atmosphere to be as "club like" as possible so as to convince us that biking for an hour at a high speed was actually an enjoyable, "party comparable", experience. This meant I was intrigued by my "now purple" shirt and flourescent shoelaces until my oxygen ran out five minutes in and I spent the rest of the class focusing very intently on staying on the bike seat/breathing. I met Brett, Matty and Holly for Nandos and after a fulfilling dining experience, we ventured to Classic for the premiere of Ruby Sparks. Here we met up with Hannah and Captain Australia. Captain Australia is Matty's friend, Jimmy, who does things like runs across deserts to raise money for Save the Children. The theater's website had said "No Free Tickets Available", which I took to mean that it was sold out, prompting me to send out a despairing text to the group. Recognizing my error (in Australia, no free tickets means no promotional tickets are available for fundraisers and such), Kappy informed the group that the movie was, in fact, full of open seats and that I, in fact, was culturally stunted. Ruby Sparks was too good and we all decided to find the nearest type-writer and write the next great American/Australian novel to ensure living in a cool house like Paul Dano.

Friday, I had Shabbat with Brett and his beautiful family and it was voted that Turkish Delight is the grossest candy to come out of Turkey and Carnival ice cream cake is the best thing that has ever been made in the world. Matty met up with us afterwards and we watched Parks and Recreation bloopers until we cried.

Saturday, Martha and I were the ultimate gym kids at Body Pump, celebrating our early class with a reward of sunshine on the beach. We got ready afterwards and went to Fairfield Boat House for Ciara's big birthday celebration. After a few directional errors and an exasperated cab driver, we met the crew at the boathouse and began our indulgent day of sunshine and cider. After a discussion of religion and the gothic wedding being held near the boathouse (it all started with Susie's fascination with Slipknot...), we went to Richmond for a banquet of Vietnamese food. This led to Vic Bar and a night of espresso martinis and dancing. I met my match in American hip hop music fans in Ivan and Kevin but still own the rights to teaching all of Australia how to "dougie". 

My departure from the train later that night was one of my more graceful moments of all time. I was wearing heels (which in itself is a rarity and said rarity is noticeable from my strange gait) and I mentally committed to walking as if was effortless. As I essentially strutted home (a strut would have been the manifestation of my "effortless" walking), a person behind me further boosted my confidence.

Stranger: Wow, are those comfortable?

Me: Ah. These things? Psh. Absolutely. The platform makes the heel barely noticeable (lies).

Stranger: Really? They are just huge. Really pretty, though. Don't think I could wear them myself. Not really a heels girl.

Me: I totally understand. Me neither, really. But it is all about the mental commitment!

It is at this time that God decides to smite me by magically making the pavement uneven. In this moment, my ankle loses any strength that it was feigning, rolls over and forces my completely unbalanced, 5 inch taller self to tumble, head first, into the pavement. 

Stranger: Oh my god. I shouldn't have talked to you about the heels.

Me: (extricating myself from the road and adjusting my dress from its newfound place around my shoulders) No, it is really fine. On account of the fact I should be able to talk and walk at the same time.

I learned two things from this experience. Don't wear heels and don't talk to strangers if you intend on walking at the same time.

Sunday, I went to Ellie's house for a sunny, Sunday BBQ. How exciting, American friends...an actual Australian barbie! It was a feast of beautiful salads and fish and sausages and onions. And the apple cake (an homage to the impending end of time with the winter fruit) hit the spot. We sat in the sunshine until the shade changed our minds and then reconvened around the Scattegories for five raucous rounds of serious word warfare.  Dinner at the Noone house celebrated Rosie's return and then I had improv practice! I'm in a troupe that will be part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival in the next few weeks. The practice was good and exciting and weird as improv practices usually are. It is so nice to be back in the world of created characters and Saturday Night Live ambitions.

Love you and miss you xx


Things I can't stop listening to this week! 

Ca Plane Pour Moi: Plastic Bertrand

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVDfmn_TMkI

Thee Oh Sees: Wait Lets Go

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/tracks/14295-wait-lets-go/

Purity Ring: Fineshrines

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xqw4wo8vdY8

Pure Bathing Culture: Ivory Coast
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLnmZMD2qXM

Lake Street Drive: Live Session

http://www.npr.org/event/music/160607630/lake-street-dive-a-string-band-with-soul

gym and wine-induced tales

Week 5 blog must begin with an homage to his excellence, Wes Anderson. It is with great excitement that I inform you "Moonrise Kingdom" has made it to Australia. Hannah, Kappy and I ventured to see the opening of Moonrise at a theatre in the city and I could barely keep myself from reminding them America has reveled in the movie's glory for months. I was also bursting with the desire to sing along with the soundtrack. Anyone familiar with the music in the movie would agree that no one should sing it aloud unless they are a children's choir so it was best that I kept my bursting to myself. A large popcorn and bag of Mnm's later, we filed into a PACKED theatre to watch the film and feel inspired by youthful innocence, validated in our greatest dreams of love and adventure.

Tuesday was Ciara's birthday, which equates to a feast in the Noone vernacular. The whole family gathered for an amazing dinner of mango chutney chicken and beautiful greens. I say whole family very literally, as one of the two traveling daughters was phoned in on Skype for the big birthday song. 

Wednesday, I made the commitment to the gym located approximately two seconds from my place of residence. This is because "there is no excuse", a strange adage that is often applied to those living within 25 miles of a gym.  I'm not sure who decided that everyone who lives within this distance should bear this guilt or have to defend not liking/not feeling compelled to lift heavy blocks in the company of perspiring people, but I gave in to the social pressure and signed up. Wednesday night, as dictated by earlier posts, is X Factor night. Know that nothing else gets in the way of that.

After work on Thursday, I went and lifted heavy blocks in the presence of other perspiring people. I also ran on a machine but did not move anywhere. The gym is such a strange place. Luckily, I'm so busy contemplating the social constructs of the gym that I barely notice the time on the treadmill. After the gym, I had a beautiful dinner with Martha, Emma and the rest of the Noone family, filled with dynamic Irish history lessons and detailed accounts of UK living. I left the house to meet Brett, Daniel and Pece for drinks at La La Land shortly thereafter. The night was lovely and the conversation abundant, mired only by a strange skateboarding incident, where a skateboarding youth was pushed from his means of transport by the unimpressed bouncer. This was shortly followed by a vehicle striking Daniel's car, forcing us to worry that we would be involved in the next small catastrophe. 

Friday morning, the sun was shining and I got to catch a run on the beach before work. Such a nice way to start, particularly when the sun greets you off of the water, instead of polar winds.  I had a shift with Beat and got my music fill, writing a series of press releases to the tunes of the "Is This It" album. Musical inspiration for anyone with ears. Afterwards, I headed home. Ambitions of returning to the city were abandoned in the face of a warm home and cloudy tea. Jack and I went for falafel and practiced our Turkish and Kate and I bonded over channel surfing and romantic comedies. 

Saturday began with a walk on the beach with Em and Martha, "to wake up our minds". It was followed by coffee treats. Let me just give you some incentive to fly to Australia right now. Iced coffee actually means "I'll have my coffee with ice, three scoops of french vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of hazelnut syrup". I didn't even have to verbalize this, this treasure was handed to me. If that doesn't get you to buy a ticket, I don't know what will. I then trained into the alternative pocket of the city for a vegetarian lunch with Annie and Jess and their friend, Molgana. "Veggie Bar" had the most unbelievably diverse menu, though meatless, and was assuredly one of my best meals yet. Not to mention, it being in Fitzroy means the setting itself is super cool and filled with people with gaged ears and band t-shirts. I followed the girls to the famous Rose Markets and strolled through vendors with the most unique array of things, from children's books converted into agendas to Frieda Kahlo lamps to necklaces made from stamps floating in resin. I abandoned the girls in my own pursuit of bookstores and found myself back in Polyester, one of the coolest bookstores in either hemisphere. Had an awesome peruse through the classics but upon venturing to the music section, was duly rewarded with an entire section committed to John Cage's poetry. The coolest! 

Walked myself down to the Melbourne Museum and spent the afternoon in the exhibits. The best floor was the Mind and Body exhibit. The room was split into the two entities. I braved the "Body" aspect first and even made it through the embalming room (when I say made it, I don't mean I survived the embalming process...the exhibit makes a point to emphasize that this is impossible). Rather, I kept myself from fainting long enough to progress to the Puberty section. This is actually where I chose to end my time in the "Body" side, as the life-size photos of naked children, adolescents and adults struck a very strange chord. Could be blamed on the Catholic school sexual education course, the innocence of which has left me quite uncomfortable in the face of such exhibits. It also might have been the couple intensely reading the pre-natal section, flanked by the photo representation of the birth canal. Regardless, the "Mind" section was so excellent. It explored everything from dreams to language capacity to emotions, all the while providing interactive exhibits to test one's aptitude in all of the above. The Noone house was throwing a party in honor of the impending AFL Grand Final when I returned, so the house was full of footy, wine and Indian food. Multicultural city, multicultural household.

Woke up early Sunday morning to grab a workout before having the biggest brunch of all time with Bretts. We have continued our committed effort to "sharesies", where we order our meal of choice and then split our meals. Hugely beneficial for the indecisive or those with a varied palate. After a combination of everything on the menu, we parted for pre-Rosh Hashanah resting. For me, it was time to be in Russia with "Crime and Punishment". I trained to Ellie's for honey cake and tea prior to braving her family's Rosh Hashanah dinner. She prepped me with the family lineage, noting everything from creepy uncles to wine-smashing uncle's girlfriends. She has never been more accurate. Her creepy uncle, intact with knitted sweater, the miraculously refilling bottle of wine in hand and a head pimple, played his part as indicated by Ellie's predictions. Her wine-smashing, girlfriend- of-uncle is worth quoting. Imagine her speaking in the loudest, most stilted posh accent, with syllables often being lost to a wine-induced drawl.

Wine-Smasher: Might I inform you about my grandson. He is an absolute joy!

Me: Mhm. 

Wine Smasher: Just the most pleasant young child. Always with the sweetest expression. His older sister just wants someone to love and absolutely showers him with attention and affection. Just darling!

Me: Aw. Yeah, thats nice.

Wine Smasher: (hysterically laughing) And he is just brainless! We are so concerned! A child with such a sweet disposition, who is so very...malleable...well, he couldn't possibly have an ounce of intellect!

Me: Well. That took a turn.

And this was just glass one. Her strange stories, undulating from sweet anecdotes to desperate cries for help, were made more tolerable by unbelievable shortbread cookies and apples and honey. And having Ellie close by to exchange concerned glances. 

Shana tovah to all of you at home!

Lots of love always. Hugs and kisses xoxo

Music! Music! Music!

Little Scout: Go Quietly

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XtgzvyTxI0

MS MR: Dark Doo Wop

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77ZwHQI3J40

Ball Park Music: Surrender

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rPgQ6B6CAE&feature=related

White Denim: Darlene

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED3BELccYsM

Run DMT: Romantic

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gm-bzIa2RA8

op shops and book policies

Alas, week four has arrived. A month certainly feels official. With this week comes the depart of our beloved Sophie, who left for Europe after I got home from work on Monday. She was not without my Whitman-heavy, "celebrate yourself, sing yourself" speech, of course.  Today I committed to my new project of "One Book a Week" because I have an hours worth of train riding daily and should utilize the time to cultivate my mind, rather than only imagining musicals or bobbing my head almost rhythmically to Kanye West. 

Tuesday evolved into a city night and it couldn't have been better to drink in the city as the sun set. I trained into Flinders Street Station and walked along the sunlit sidewalks, smiling and reveling in the spring air and city scents. I wandered to the school grounds of my old university and sat on the lawn as the sun set, extending my book reading efforts to lawns and enjoying the last moments of sun before the cold. I then met up with Mel and Brett, who, in their lawyer attire, looked very much like my parents. We walked the long journey to Chinatown, committing ourselves to the most glorious meal (as dictated by urbanspoon), and even denied ourselves crepes and any other less than stellar meal along the way. Our meal was as delicious as desired and well-deserved, given the journey done in high heels.

Wednesday was yet another city night, as it was my meeting with the general manager of "Right Now", the human rights website for which I'll be producing radio shows. Look out for that! Such a cool multimedia project (combining arts and music to inspire human rights dialogue) and even more, such a cool guy! I met him inside of a cafe/bar that was a converted storage space and had since been lined with newspapers all over the wall. The newspapers had been coated in paints and shellacks and the tables, chairs and adornments were all varied in color, size and era. Such a cool collection. He rocked up in a fedora, with a beer in hand, and offered me the position after a very passionate monologue on my part, which ended up straying from Sudanese immigration policy to a vested interest in the Bolshevik Revolution. It is probably best that he knows what he is dealing with up front.

After work on Thursday, I had a bit of time to explore Richmond. Intending to get to Ciaras around 5:45, I strolled around and took in the cool warehouses, art studios and modeling agencies around her home. She had mentioned that her roommate would be home to let me in, as her gym session took longer than intended. After being frighteningly awkward with the roommate who opened the door (Ciara had failed to mention that he was Greek and thus, had the blood of gods in his lineage), I was allowed in her home. The interaction was as follows:

Me: (upon door opening) Oh. Um. Am I in the right place?

Greek God: I don't know?

Me: (blanking on my friend's name) Is this...the...um...Noone residence?

Greek God: Sort of? I mean, she lives here.

Me: Oh ok, yes that's a great thing. Yes. She is expecting me. 

Greek God: She's at the gym.

Me: Yep, knew that. Because we've spoken. On a phone before. We're friends (insert awkward laugh)!


Somehow he let me in. When my previously nameless friend arrived, we all packed into her car for an awesome night of pizzas and live music. An American woman was at the gig, as her sons best friend was playing, and she offered me the opportunity to "come have American chat" in wine-drenched breath. Then she proceeded to call me Bridget and I decided that it was unlikely she would remember that offer in the morning.

Friday, I got the opportunity I've been dreaming about since I developed such a keen interest in music, circa age 3 when I lived only for "Wee Sing". I was offered a position with the big music magazine in Melbourne. I had a "trial" at the office, which was this super cool ramshackle building that opened up into a modern waiting room. The stairs were lined with Lou Reed canvases and led to the room of all things holy. The room where the other journalists were sitting was brimming with energy: interviews were being hosted, the Divine Fits were being streamed over the speakers and unopened, unreleased albums were strewn about the coffee table. I nearly died from happiness. The producer told me he would let me know if I had the position by Tuesday, but much to my surprise, he told me Friday night that I was on the team. Got the news during a lovely Shabbat dinner with Tracy, Brett, Matty and Kaz and in turn, an already awesome dinner was made even better. 

Saturday, Martha and I woke up early to drive down the peninsula to Lord Somers Camp. Here, we were volunteers for SAIL, a weekend-long camp for child refugees from Sudan and Kenya. Saturday was such a blast,a combination of sports, break dancing classes, team bonding and mess hall food fights. Our group of kids were so special, and very interested in my strange accent. It was such a privilege to interact with them and hear their stories, particularly Ahmad, for whom I developed a special affinity. So shy originally, and much smaller than the other boys, he quickly became the star of all of the plays, videos and talent shows. He was gorgeous. After camp, Martha and I drove back to the city to catch Hannah's star performance in Brunswick. The performance was a series of ten, ten-minute plays. The emcee of the event was a man shooting just north of 6 feet tall, decked out in heels, a variety of dress ensembles and wigs, and hot pink lipstick that just ran into his facial hair ever so slightly. His acapella numbers ("Diamonds are a Girls Best Friends", for example) were hysterical and allowed for comfortable intermissions between some admittedly cringe-worthy acts. Hannah's performance was superb, however, and we celebrated her afterwards with a late night Indian feast. After we had our fill of butter chicken and tikka masala, we scooped her friend Mariana from Mexico from a salsa bar and met up with Brett and Matty for the first party of the night. Op Shop (thrift store in American) was the theme and we danced passionately, wrapped in tacky sweaters, to the trans music pounding around us. Deciding this music was in no way the acceptable soundtrack for the night, we pushed on to Holly's 80's themed soiree and continued our movement for the rest of the nights to the world's favorite one hit wonders. 

Sunday, I cooked a proper Cuban feast for the Noone family, introducing them to the flavors of Miami in makeshift, Australian form. They don't even have black beans in the general supermarket here, a testament to the lack of Cuban influence on this side of the world. Did my best to do my secondary culture (a by-product of living in South Florida) justice! Mr. Noone still only addresses me in a Southern accent, however, a trend that will surely be exacerbated when I cook shrimp n' grits for them next weekend. Have to brag about the weather today, the sun shone all day and the sun actually lit the entirety of the bay as it set. The water looked electrified. Wish you could see it with me!

SO much love, as always. And hugs and kisses too.

Music and short films for you! xoxox

Girls: The End of the World (Skeeter Davis Cover)
http://www.tunetheproletariat.com/audio/End%20of%20the%20World.mp3


Chairlift: I Belong in Your Arms (Japanese Version)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RRc0T3l1Co


The Preatures: Take A Card
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtDXezAhes8


The Divine Fits: Would That Not Be Nice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jY6q8gp6wwE


And a short film by Dirty Projectors! Yes!
http://www.pitchfork.com/tv/youtube/5-special-presentation/402-dirty-projectors-hi-custodian/