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.
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.
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/
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