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