And week 2 begins! The work week can come with a funny sense of routine, but I suppose that can aid in feeling a bit more settled. Plus, now I can officially say I'm part of "the workforce" and feel a real sense of connection and comaraderie with other morning train riders. I find myself dreaming of the patrons on the train exploding into song and dance, detailing the monotony of the work grind in a collective soprano whilst reminiscing about lost hopes and failed plans for stardom in a show-stopping bridge-into-chorus. Alas, when I remove myself from my imagination, my reality is reduced to a mere head nod and grunt, a collective social groan.
Monday was exciting, given our office flooded and we were exiled into this super cool warehouse building. The space was once obviously used for fashion design, given the busts and mannequins littering the corridors. The floors were wooden, the windows spanned from the ceiling to the floor and it seemed that every company that had used the space had left some funky artifact in homage, from a life-size poster of "The Little Prince" to a fixed gear exercise bike, giving it a kitschy museum feel. I went home to dinner with Ellie's lovely parents, Peter and Deb, for a very anticipated reunion. I'm especially fond of Peter, with whom I share a love of Fleet Foxes and good movie posters. We had yummy Hungarian fare and good lively chat about Israel's presence in Nigeria and how My Morning Jacket is Fleet Foxes' funky brother.
Tuesday was a standard work day, save for the introduction of a new Canadian girl to our team. Now, the North American continent has dual representation and I can no longer act like America is the only existing country on the landmass. That new level of fact-checking aside, always good to have a new dynamic. Our team had a personal lunch (i.e not the whole office, just our group of 5). Broke up the work day a bit for "Fonda", a cool little Mexican joint which serves things like beef brisket and coleslaw in hand-fed corn tortillas and effectively undermines any authenticity of even being distantly related to Mexican cuisine. That is, unless Mexicans all of the sudden love garlic aioli.
Wednesday was a typical hump day except no one in my office calls it that and proceeded to look at me like I had threatened their lives when I wished them a happy one. After work, I returned to my summer love of Bikram Yoga and bravely took on "the front of the room". This is quite the coveted position. Anyone who has taken the class will agree that one only chooses this place if they trust their yoga prowess is equivalent to that of Patanjali. Though I would never put myself in the same spectrum of talent or capacity for meditation, I trusted my summer commitment to sweating out my body weight would have prepped me for that kind of audacity. The class was successful (as in my heart didn't stop) and I braved the freezing walk home wearing all of the day's clothes and some dry towels. Looking more and more like Patanjali everyday, really.
Thursday brought on the return of Nandos Thursday, a classic institution established by Brett and Matty and improved by me. Luckily, they got to experience me in fine form after another round at yoga. My ensemble included yoga capris that just grazed the top of my boots, a large peacoat over a tank top and hair that appeared showered but was rather far from it. Somehow they let me attend the dinner despite this foul state of being and even allowed me to sit with them at their table.
Friday brought about another joyous company lunch, in which I silently sat and contemplated just how awkward it would be to attempt at conversation. Or, if I should take the sociopathic route and go with the non-sequitur contribution that leaves everyone wondering just who that new girl is and why the country let her in. Friday night was an absolute blast. I wandered around the city a bit before catching up with Annie and Jess and my wanders brought me into the most beautiful little bookstore, full of everything good in winding shelves of cracking book spines and overflowing boxes of yellowing pages. I pored over this especially interesting language section, with books detailing the lineage of language and contending that one's native language determines the emotional capacity of one's self-expression. Fascinating! After I got my book fix and watched a protest on the steps of Parliament, I met up with the girls.
We ended up going to a BYO Vietnamese place in this super cool spot in town called Fitzroy. The area is filled with vegan-friendly food places, modern art and record shops. So cool to explore. However, my order ended up being less than ideal, which I blame on my attempt at exercising cultural authenticity.
Waiter: Hi. What you want?
Me: Hello (awkward head nod in cultural deference), I would like the Hu Tien Chay. (followed by self-satisfied smile and a acknowledgment of my worldliness)
Waiter: What?
Me: Um. The Hu Tien Chay?
Waiter: You want bean curd in broth?
Me: (not comprehending but fearing any type of offensive movement or comment) Yes.
And that is what I got. Bean curd in broth. You can imagine the lack of satisfaction with that "party in a bowl". I didn't have too much time to mourn my soggy bean curd, however, because of the Birthday Surprises happening around me. The kind owners of Viet Nam (the restaurant) celebrate patron's birthday with a fried banana and two scoops of fried ice cream positioned ever so perfectly to resemble an enlarged male anatomy. As if this isn't a surprise enough, and enough reason to hate the friend that ordered it for you, sparklers are placed in a very precarious spot and a strange karaoke version of a warped birthday song plays over the entire sound system. After we ordered our own fried ice cream (sans banana addition), we headed to The Rochy for a night of dancing. Imagine a place that plays The Strokes, LCD Soundsystem and The Rolling Stones in one set! It exists! We had so much fun pretending to be Mick Jagger and James Murphy all in one.
Saturday started off with a lovely stroll around the farmer's market. This one was held in an old convent and had the most beautiful gardens of daisies, lined with towering gothic steeples and an eerie sense of otherworldliness in its dark stone. We ate in a converted school room at a place called "Lentils Anything", a Sri Lankan spot that allows you to choose the price of your meal. You can literally pay anything! Afterwards, we strolled through the vendors and ate fresh biscotti and drank chai lattes and taste tested anything that didn't have a vendor directly staring at us. It was then that my demise began...I caught the flu. I attempted a group dinner for the evening, believing my current state of health could be mended by friends and pizza. What really happened was I spent most of dinner assessing whether it would be more socially acceptable to vomit under the table or attempt to make it to the restroom with the threat of endangering other diners.
Good ol' Sunday brought serious flu fun and T.V. time. Ellie and I sat outside wrapped in blankets, hoping the sun would peek out, swearing Vitamin D would do us some good. We did look presentable for the Jewish Aid's Fundraiser later that night, which was a showing of "The Sapphires" at this super cool art house theatre. It was a lovely musical movie, detailing the lives of an Aboriginal girls singing group in the 1960's, when racism was at its peak and Vietnam was in full force. Afterwards, Ellie and I met up with Monica and her friends to bid her goodbye as she journeys to New York for Fashion Week.
Post dinner, I moved into the Noone house. Now I am officially an Irish Catholic and living amongst the loveliest family of 8 people (6 kids!) right by the beachside. I'm making a very concerted effort to learn Martha's mum's cooking skills (Beef and Guiness stew!) and promise to add to my Gaelic vocabulary. This vocabulary is currently limited to "yes" and "cheers" because I learned what I know from being in a bar in Dublin.
Of course, signing off with some tunes. And lots of love always. xoxoxo
Crybaby: True Love Will Find You in the End
Father John Misty: Writing a Novel
James Blake: A Case of You
David Byrne and St. Vincent: Who
Saw these guys live this week...worth a listen! Yay Aussie music!
The Teskey Brothers: Angel Eyes
Mouth Tooth: Flower Smoke
