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!
Things I can't stop listening to this week!
Ca Plane Pour Moi: Plastic Bertrand
Thee Oh Sees: Wait Lets Go
Purity Ring: Fineshrines
Pure Bathing Culture: Ivory Coast
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLnmZMD2qXM
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