all our tomorrows

hello lovelies. bit of a change of scenery tonight -- gone is the gritty hustle and bustle of kings cross, replaced by the gentle hum of late-evening adelaide, basking in the aftermath of a hot summer day. I'm sitting in my dear papa's l'apartmento, overlooking the bright glow of city lights and the shadowy darkness of the adelaide hills. In the distance dark clouds soar overhead, illuminated by the faint pulsing of those red lights on dangerously high cranes.<br /><br />not terribly much to report, only that i flew in to the motherland eary yesterday morning and am having a marvelous time gallavanting around familar streets with family + friends. I saw the film <em>Slumdog Millionaire </em>(which gets 5 very gold stars fom this reviewer) yesterday, visited my slightly deranged grandmother in a retirement home and paid a mouth-wateringly delicious visit to the Haighs HQ in Unley. I've drank Long Island iced teas in the hot sun, shopped for jam jars, sunk my teeth into hot salty chips from my fave greek cafe Eros and lounged around with my dad watching thriller spy movies on foxtel. Early night tonight, then dinner with the girls tomorrow morning. god i love holidays....<br /><br />ness x

all our tomorrows

hello lovelies. bit of a change of scenery tonight -- gone is the gritty hustle and bustle of kings cross, replaced by the gentle hum of lat...

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summer playlist

sundresses // salty lips // wet hair on bare shoulders // blackened toes peeking gamely through sandals // minty mojitos // cherry lipgloss // picnics in the park // sandy sheets // blurry polaroids // summer tunes...<div><br /><div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=hmieVoMeqZM">that beep </a>-- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">architecture in helsinki</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=Nzw2ysLJH_U">turbo love</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">bag raiders</span></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRgQns-TJGM&feature=related">you don't know me</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ben folds feat. regina specktor</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=nI3g9RaVkdY">polite dance song</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">the bird and the bee</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=AWiAuIygfl8">the sea is rising</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">bliss n eso</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=moFzu9mgYwE">halo</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">bloc party</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=aCDaLsJQ9XE">awkward orchid orchard</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">the boat people</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=g173CIjqpPA">dawn of the dead</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">does it offend, yeah?</span></div><div><a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=6078136">in step</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">girl talk</span></div><div><a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=6078136">here's the thing</a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">-- girl talk</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=naQSB1Ozyds&feature=channel">oh my god</a> -- id<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">a maria</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=cySmUjQB05I">i like you so much better when you're naked</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ida maria</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=7F-lqOrRcIY">the fear</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">lil</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">y allen</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=VMGq_6GouyI">brandy alexander</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">feist</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=EURZuzHyWb0">the youth</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">MGMT</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=UtUI5MC9tVM">electric feel</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">MGMT</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=vPGtwkobY_g">the festival song</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">pez</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=fSts_0sCUeg">soon we'll be found</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">sia</span></div><div><a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=3290569">the summer</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">josh pyke</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=F1HDZNR9cY4">paris is burning</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ladyhawke</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=QN8HwUxFouM">my delirium</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ladyhawke</span></div><div><a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=gUyuEyVb6KU&feature=channel">dusk till dawn</a> -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ladyhawke</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>ness x</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div></div></div>

summer playlist

sundresses // salty lips // wet hair on bare shoulders // blackened toes peeking gamely through sandals // minty mojitos // cherry lipgloss ...

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it's just a hop-skip-jump

'tis very early saturday morning here in ol sydney-town. rain has been blanketing the city since midday yesterday and seems it will never stop. What a funny state the world becomes when the weather gets out of kilter! A dark sky, the gently pitter-patter of salty rain and suddenly.... traffic turns to gridlock, people cancel plans, abandoned umbrellas turned inside out from gusty wind line the footpath and inappropriately dressed girls wail and clutch the hems of their crotch-skimming skirts. <div><br /></div><div>All trains going to the eastern 'burbs were cancelled this afternoon so I walked home from the CBD in the rain; one of my favourite things to do. I shoved my mangled umbrella in my bag, pushed my fringe out of my eyes with my fabulous new Mimco headband (thank you zeddy! -- who ever said rain was unfashionable?) and fast-forwarded to the rainy-day tunes on my ipod. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been listening to a lot of Girl Talk lately which is peculiar considering i ab-so-lu-tely HATED him when he first made the aussie airwaves a year or so back. I think his mash-up remixes are pretty freakin' good though, and it's grown on me to the point that it's the first music i play when i leave the house each morning. Something about it puts a little hop-skip-jump in my step. You can listen for yourself on his <a href="http://www.myspace.com/girltalkmusic">myspace</a> page; my faves are In Step, Here's The Thing + Let Me See You. </div><div><br /></div><div>I went to sushi + el cheapo vino night with friends this evening; now I am sprawled out on my bed with the windows pushed wide open and a strong breeze cool on my cheeks. Somewhere far in the distance someone is playing wailing Irish tunes, and a girl is yelling repeatedly for a taxi. Sires are bleating, cicadas are chirping and the sweet tang of dope wafts through my bedroom window. Talk about oxymorons.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the air smells damp, like it's been locked up for years and years, left in a heap in the back of someone's Great Aunt Mildred's mothball-ridden closet. Now it's finally been released and is playing havoc on all the sandal-wearing, sunscreen-toting city residents. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow the wind will halt and change direction, the clouds will sink lower and the sun will rise high in the morning air, raising the temp to a sweltering 34 degrees. Hel<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">lo </span>summer dresses! no wonder we're all so bloody confused...</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

it's just a hop-skip-jump

'tis very early saturday morning here in ol sydney-town. rain has been blanketing the city since midday yesterday and seems it will neve...

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nightminds

i am...  listening to the rain, falling in love all over again with <a href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=On-xzwrPxa0">ani difranco</a>, drinking mango nectar, cleaning my apartment, wishing it wasn't already monday morning, trying on new shoes, reading new confessions on PostSecret...<div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277040190526942450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBajEemriP5iSclUP6640PzmijwGM_IBpX93gpJwOFdG8OGypNr-OtEfxbwl-aNM9dI3o2mofH558xnhrGy6frsc8QQQwbF1JOsOaX72Z1ZPf_Ep_TY_Z1-gDms111Rso2UaQJ-F77ELQ/s400/postx.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px; " /></div>

nightminds

i am...  listening to the rain, falling in love all over again with ani difranco , drinking mango nectar, cleaning my apartment, wishing it ...

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a little yellow mellow

<div>I woke this morning to a cacophony of sounds. A girl in the next-door backpackers hostel was sobbing, the muffled cries creeping through her open third-floor windows and floating on the beat of the carrying wind. She was taking gasping hiccupy breathes and i so wish i could've asked what was wrong. It's a little discerning hearing stranger's cry; even now I'm still pondering what was making her so sad on a sunny saturday morning. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Some of the homeless folk from the nearby Wayside Chapel must have went a little crazy on the town last night (didn't we all), for sprawled out on the alleyway this morning on the searing concrete were 5 or 6 of them, beer bottles in hand and heads slightly lolling to one side. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"fuuuuucck"</span> the one with the beanie repeats sporadically. Then the rest chime in <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"fuuuuucck" </span>After a while one of the men turns his beatbox on, and the stactic-y mumblings of early morning talkback radio joins the girl's hiccupy sobs on the passing breeze. </div><div><br /></div><div>And up on the backpacker's rooftop, a rowdy gang of scantily dressed boys are frying up bacon and eggs on their rusty Webber, squirting tangy sauce into squishy white rolls and scoffing them down, ciggys in hand. A couple of the still-slightly-drunk boys kick empty beer bottles around like soccer balls, exulting in glorious glee when a goal is scored. At around 11 they'll quieten down, and retreat to their beds for a midday snooze so they'll be ready to partake in another night of noisy reveling. It's always the same. </div><div><br /></div><div>And soon, the girl will cease crying, and a police car will roll gently into view, usher the inebriated men and their talk-back radio friends back to the Chapel, where they will be clothed and fed and showered, and no doubt continue to loll on the pavement in the hot morning sun. It's always the same. </div><div><br /></div><div>Any second now I'm going to peel myself from the couch and do a spot of apartment cleaning, have a shower, drink some juice etc. I'm off to the coast tonight; my friend's having her engagement party up in Terrigal so another friend and I are driving up there this arvo and staying the night in a creaky house by the sea. I haven't been any further north than Manly yet so am awfully excited to go exploring. </div><div><br /></div><div>I might go for a wander down to Paddington today too; i still need to buy an engagement gift, do some more chrissy shopping and am desperately craving a mango smoothie from Ampersand. Tomorrow night I will be popping along to my best friend's house in erskineville for a garage sale and barbeque (read: excuse to drink beer on a Sunday night) although I should probably be good and go to yoga. CONUNDRUM</div><div><br /></div><div>While i let my moral conscious fight it out, i shall bid you adieu and vehemently SWEAR that i will be back posting more regularly from now on. (cross my heart and kiss my elbow)</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

a little yellow mellow

I woke this morning to a cacophony of sounds. A girl in the next-door backpackers hostel was sobbing, the muffled cries creeping through her...

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tell me what can i do

the next three weeks leading up till the 19th (when we break from work) are going to be absolutely crazy busy so when i discovered that i no longer had to babysit tonight, i decided to skip yoga (bad ness) and instead do the following<div><br /></div><div>-- paint my toenails<br /></div><div>-- wash my dishes</div><div>-- listen to Sia really loud on repeat</div><div>-- jump around my apartment dancing like a loony</div><div>-- choose a dress to wear to my birthday dinner friday night and try it on with all my heels until i have the perfect combination</div><div>-- call my friend Prue and gossip about how atrocious it was that Danielle got booted off Stylista</div><div>-- then, sit in bed with a cup of tea and read <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Englby</span> (Sebastian Faulks) until my eyes go blurry</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>i am delightfully shallow, no? granted, i'm normally a pretty always-on-the-go kinda girl but don't you just ever need a free night just to do whatever the hell you feel like doing...?</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

tell me what can i do

the next three weeks leading up till the 19th (when we break from work) are going to be absolutely crazy busy so when i discovered that i no...

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soon we'll be found

can't sleep and am so in love with Sia's new single <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Soon We'll Be Found</span> from her new album S<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ome People Have Real Problems. </span><div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g7kmIFffJbU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g7kmIFffJbU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div></div></div>

soon we'll be found

can't sleep and am so in love with Sia's new single Soon We'll Be Found from her new album S ome People Have Real Problems.  ne...

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...the old man is snoring

one of my favourite things to do on a friday night when i am without plans (or sufficient funds) is catch a 6.45 yoga class, pull a rainy day dvd off the shelf and eat a steamy bowl of udon noodle soup. <div><br /></div><div>As i walked home from yoga tonight, trying to balance my mat, purse, keys and japanese takeaway without much luck, the wind suddenly stopped. The air shifted; i could feel it cool on my cheeks. A blurry streaky mess of hot blues and dark indigo covered the sky, erupting in a series of spectacular light shows and casting shadows on the nearby city skyscrapers. The clouds swam recklessly before my eyes, quickly turning the colour of swollen bruises and spilling open to reveal thousands of tiny hot droplets, which ran rivulets down my temples and into the small of my back. </div><div><br /></div><div>The backpackers across the way are dancing in the rooftop in their underwear; fluro coloured sparklers alight from their fingertips. The drunk boys congregated in the main strip of the cross yelp and holler like adolescents, while the scantily dressed girls scream and grab at the ends of their chemically straightened hair. </div><div><br /></div><div>have a fabulous weekend my pets. i am planning to wine and dine with some old adelaide friends so i know i will :)</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div>

...the old man is snoring

one of my favourite things to do on a friday night when i am without plans (or sufficient funds) is catch a 6.45 yoga class, pull a rainy da...

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i want a song i can sing forever

<div>Josh, dump your girlfriend and marry me instead, okay?<br /></div><div><div><div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rwRqD4Kmiy4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rwRqD4Kmiy4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div></div></div>

i want a song i can sing forever

Josh, dump your girlfriend and marry me instead, okay? ness x

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the capital of everything possible

one day i will go to new york and eat bagels and drink horrible coffee and ride the subway and step in gum and go to the ballet and visit gloomy secondhand bookstores and listen to jazz in underground bars and learn to finally like martinis and work in a publishing house or maybe at the new yorker and buy a loft where i will live with a grey cat called cloudy. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of non-olfactory money. The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and beauty in the world"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">-- F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oOx3mbD_ChY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oOx3mbD_ChY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>happy dreaming...</div><div>ness x</div>

the capital of everything possible

one day i will go to new york and eat bagels and drink horrible coffee and ride the subway and step in gum and go to the ballet and visit gl...

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a time for change

dear americans,<div>tomorrow you will go to the polls and the world waits with bated breath. I'm a little worried, to be honest. It's a fact that the past often dictates the present, and if voting for Bush not once but twice is anything to go by, then quite frankly, we're screwed. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The polls are up</span>, the news keeps reporting. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Obama is strong, he's unbeatable, he's the one</span>. But still, I'm obsessing about it. My palms are sweaty, my eyes wide. I feel sick. I fear the fear of the Americans. Please, PLEASE do the right thing tomorrow. We're all depending on you.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>yours in hope,</div><div>ness<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">ten reasons why I'm supporting Obama (and you should too)</span></span></div><div>1. A vote for McCain is a vote for Sarah Palin. At 70, McCain is highly unlikely to last out his 4 years in the White House. Do you want a gun wielding, pro-life, ignorant, psychotic, inappropriate <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">winker</span> at the helm of United States? She's a fucking disgrace to the female race. </div><div>2. Financially, we're currently looking at a bleak prosperity. We need someone who will inspire us to be the best we can possibly be. Obama inspires hope, he inspires change. His gift for oratory is enough to put a spring in our steps, a morsel of belief in our being. We're inspired to change.</div><div>3. You can't 100% guarantee that anyone will be a good leader, but Obama really grasps the significance of this particular period in time, and I believe that he understands that ideology is not policy and policy is not ideology. </div><div>4. Obama is a strong advocate of our natural environment and is passionate about investing in our planet, not just for 'right now' but long-term. He wants to put policies in place that support alternative fuels and renewable energy, including a plan to increase America's energy efficiency and create 5 million new "green" jobs.</div><div>5. He wants to responsibly end the war in Iraq. Unlike Hilary, whose plan was to just yank the troops out, Obama understands that it's an eventual progress that must be monitored carefully. He's been critical of "Operation: Kill Innocent Iraqis" from the beginning, but still, he recognises that the US needs to clean up the mess they've made before they leave.</div><div>6. Unlike the Republican ticket, Obama supports a woman's right to chose what happens to her body and is an advocate for equal pay for equal work. He wants to expand the childcare tax credit and is passionate about implementing paid maternity leave for parents.</div><div>7. If you are an American citizen earning less than 250,000, <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2008/06/09/ST2008060900950.html">your taxes will decrease</a>. A fairer wage for a fairer world. </div><div>8. The world supports Obama. In September of this year, the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/pressoffice/pressreleases/stories/2008/09_september/10/poll.shtml">BBC polled 22,000</a> people across 22 countries which revealed that the Democratic candidate is preferred by a four to one margin. In 17 of the 22 countries polled, the majority think that if Obama is elected, relations between the US and the rest of the world will improve. If not, the belief in America as a strong, democratic nation will continue to deteriorate.</div><div>9. McCain voted with Bush 95% of the time. We cannot afford to have a Bush clone, or even someone who is influenced by his policies, in power. </div><div>10. Obama gives me hope; McCain/Palin scare the shit out of me. If I had the ability to vote tomorrow, i would chose the candidate who will move the US and the world forward and begin to correct the mistakes that have been made over the last eight years.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm terrified, I'm shaking in my skin. But I have faith that the US will make the right decision. I don't want to imagine the alternative. So here's a message from me to my fellow American bloggers: Don't. Screw. It. Up. </div>

a time for change

dear americans, tomorrow you will go to the polls and the world waits with bated breath. I'm a little worried, to be honest. It's a ...

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tales of the city

<div><div style="text-align: left;">My music-love of the moment is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=22787">FisherKing</a></span>, a four piece Indie outfit from Sydney. When I'm at work late, I crank up triplej on my blue Tivoli radio; it keeps me company. I discovered this jewel of a band Thursday night while suffering from writers block and in desperate need of inspiration. Their debut single <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Smelling Roses </span>did it for me; hopefully it gets your creativity racing too.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And for those trashy TV junkies (okay, me), I hope you've all been keeping up with the goss -- Whitney from The Hills is getting her own show, 'The City". Trailer is below. I just can't wait to spend an hour watching the fashionista stumble through the NY fashion world, with her breathy little-girl voice and incessant need to ask the most ridiculously obvious questions. the Australian boy is smokin' though...  Ah, i see another drinking game on the horizon...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q27eqPxd_T8&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q27eqPxd_T8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">happy sunday!</div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>

tales of the city

My music-love of the moment is FisherKing , a four piece Indie outfit from Sydney. When I'm at work late, I crank up triplej on my blue ...

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just a quickie

So. I'm sitting cross-legged on my couch in my apartment, watching Will&Grace while i smother rice crackers in hummus.  I had one of those infuriatingly irritating I-Just-Want-Tear-My-Hair-Out-And-Yell-At-Everyone-On-The-Phone day. Seriously, people (read: magazine readers) are annoying. And the trains were late going to work <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">and</span> coming home today. And i got screamed at by a woman at Martin Place because i didn't give up my seat for her pregnant daughter (i was supposed to notice a three-week fetus?) And i spilt water all over my mac keyboard and had to spend half an hour arguing with the IT boys trying to negotiate a new one AND...<div><br /></div><div>nah, rant over. I'm off to stand on my head at yoga to try and squash all this negativeness out of me. Tomorrow night i'm going to help Samsung celebrate it's 21st birthday but i promise you all a late-night post cheerfully mocking all of Sydney's appliance A-list...</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div><div>ps. Karl Lagerfeld + the Fug Girls = <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/10/superman_fugs.html">hilarity</a></div><div><div><br /></div></div>

just a quickie

So. I'm sitting cross-legged on my couch in my apartment, watching Will&Grace while i smother rice crackers in hummus.  I had one of...

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the castle in the forest

Most of the time, i <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/chaos-theory.html">love living in Kings Cross</a>. the noise, the stereotypes, the contradictions, the grit and the grime and the bright lights; it all feels a part of me, knitted deep in my being. Like i was always meant to end up here, living a faux sort of bohemian life. That being said, sometimes this place breaks my heart. It is slowly corrupting me, forcing me to realise that not all in the world is good and fair.<div><br /></div><div>Last night, around 2am, when the moon was high in the sky and the hemisphere teetered in that impossible time between yesterday, today and tomorrow, i was awaken by two people having noisy, awkward, drunken sex. They were squatting down in the alleyway that my apartment windows look out onto; her blonde head was jammed into the cold concrete, his was balding and bobbing up and down. </div><div><br /></div><div>The streets were bare, the corners and alleyways sunk in darkness -- a rarity for the early hours of Sunday morning in the cross. A hazy film had drifted over the city as if, without the intense activity of the imbibers, it too had fallen into an uneasy depression. Like usual, my windows were flung open -- it is not uncommon for me to overhear going-ons in the alleyway; when sex is being traded for drugs or the drunk partygoers are trashing a car, i often make the practised call to KX police station, staying awake until the gentle roar of the marked car rolls into vision, and i can unclench my pillow from my sweaty hands.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Back to last night. After they'd pulled their clothes back on, the man and woman slumped against the dirty brick of my building, sticking their feet into the gutter where beer bottles and the stump of cigarettes lay rotting. They talked... no, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">she</span> talked, wailed, sobbed, swore and shouted. He listened, only sporadically would a drunken slur of 'baby, it's all right. baby, give me a hug. baby..." come out of his mouth.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you overhear someone else's life story, their sins and hopes and regrets, their time in prison and the 7 years they were abused as a child, you get trapped in a strange mix of emotions. I feel sad, of course, but the sadness you feel when watching a film, or listening to a heart-wrenching song. It draws emotions, but a sort-of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">detached</span> emotion -- knowing you can't help or fix or totally understand the situation. </div><div><br /></div><div>And i feel a little violated too; like i've been forced to read a stranger's private diary. That sinking-stomach feeling when you've been told a secret you know you can never tell. Being witness to such absurdities blackens my heart a little more each time; it honestly all frightens me and makes my little world of books and writing seem altogether rich and terribly safe.</div><div><br /></div><div>I grew up knowing i was 'lucky'; living here reiterates it that much more. Please don't take for granted what you have; if you are loved and have somewhere to sleep at night, isn't that enough, at least for right now?</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

the castle in the forest

Most of the time, i love living in Kings Cross . the noise, the stereotypes, the contradictions, the grit and the grime and the bright light...

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it's raining, its pouring... pancakes?

happy wednesday dear readers. i have to 'fess that tonight i did this:<div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i1lF6D8frfw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i1lF6D8frfw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div> </div><div>(minus the cute boy, the New York background and the gyrating hip movements)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div>...and then i ate this:</div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259968206429238610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfaTKmjTKHRps5QN8Hkt1mSBZsZ36JnuRuy5RcqKxA5ygXdTutJ5GyQd3bHYZ62inmsHjio0dwNuDjwxsqpFfWy3pwf7Q37AxcNRMOlfg8Ac6vMoJBFOX0pmmqDIaX4ntbxzMA-b_o-0/s320/pancake.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I blame it entirely on the sudden shift in weather; the early evening darkness and the splotchy pitter-patter of sporadical rain makes me crave warm, comforting food. Am feeling a tad bit seasick now though... 'tis a very good thing the pancakes didn't come first in that chain of events. </div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div></div></div></div>

it's raining, its pouring... pancakes?

happy wednesday dear readers. i have to 'fess that tonight i did this: (minus the cute boy, the New York background and the gyrating hi...

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hello monday

<div style="text-align: left;">ladies, listen up! if you love shoes and bags and sparkly brooches, but want to read about them in a magazine that encourages environmental-love, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.pepprmintmag.com.au/">Peppermint Magazine</a> </span>is calling your name. This brand spankin' new 'green' mag is jammed full of eco-conscious fashion, from organically farmed cotton tees, recycled jewelry and bespoke canvas bags. With it's refreshingly clean layout, spunky prose and a deep passion for fashion, this is one new mag you'll want to get your little mitts on. Issue 1 out now, head to www.peppermintmag.com for more details.<br /></div><div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259210352174712898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsPC3nLuQvTJk7E8adtbmRCxErjGCTIsTaLe2vjlTIN48n3VKPqfsjEjauXbfmCx6nvijrT10mXKMe8TqGOhjthUgsZBNCMQp0xQGdQJZj2qXQ_6wMGBhgPo8GdoPeahWQ6cSfsvd6Co/s400/Picture+15.png" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259464054922901650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVu7S_S8uR2DMdTBUNE8_ksdxpcye4uid1gNZUTvT0KZ-ZmRGJ_IOEW4VmobJiZJgbPgx78zb6hzHk5V9ZjYNM731DgxTPR9qr4DaE1aUQAIzrIC8tTfwBCNB71vUCbvwWW6nQHOtQVg0/s400/pmint.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><br /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259463979159062882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvzFZ6FcxObjzpL_cLMdZ3RAVF7txgb35BQ91BpHzNWNnaPovfokdHDHPhqrj5hoeAG5TjfIK1BOsxGyK-LAARNIK_r_ismiCwTKeSi6unlzktbEXpxCQD_wb0h04tlTFT1e8N_FH9j4/s400/pmint2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>Has anyone been watching the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.bravotv.com/The_Rachel_Zoe_Project/season/1/about/index.php">Rachel Zoe Project</a></span>? (on Bravo for you Foxtel-ites, on YouTube for us free-to-airers). I know that she resembles more of an over-tanned, buck-toothed ferret than a fashion stylist, but gawd it's entertaining. I want to start a new drinking game (no kids, alcohol is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> cool) where:</div><div><br /></div><div>:: one has to take a swig every time Rachel calls Taylor/Marisa/Rodger her "rock"<br /></div><div>:: two swigs every time Taylor rolls her eyes</div><div>:: three swigs every time Brad says something adorably random </div><div>:: just drown the whole bottle every time Rachel gasps and slurs "Oh my god, I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">die</span>".</div></div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GJhIGOCx-pI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GJhIGOCx-pI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The new Frankie (Nov/Dec) comes out on Wednesday. Major kudos to those hard-working gals in the subscription department; i received my subscriber copy this morning. I am practicing an unusually large amount of self-restraint -- as i type i can see a corner of the plastic-wrapped mag peeking out of my bag. Normally i rip it open the minute i lay my grubby little paws on it, but alas i am babysitting again tomorrow night, and feel the need to have something wonderful to curl up with once the kidlets are in bed. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>An issue for the rock chicks, it not only boasts interview with Kings of Leon, Emiliana Torrini and Ladyhawke but a special on how to make your own Christmas Pudding. funky tunes+pudding = love. </div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259221088641783394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8VcXRf5mcTPZnjYAtVbwHoTn3aZrArBkQWnidxynZ37uLr6sFm7gPkCQfNzwv8PxbEv9-GpFsK60rcZKhPvs2rMhgDZA3rfVaen6a0h1tz7Fyr3pzO3QACe6ulC8vj3UKaqTWHWrjMU/s400/frankienovcover,jpg.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">oh, i have to post <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/10/fugment_of_zen_days.html">this</a>, the newest rant by the girls at <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/">Go Fug Yourself</a>. The cereal-out-the-nose-thing happened <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/fug-class.html#links">AGAIN</a>. i really have to work on that...<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ETA: you would not believe the number of people who found their way to my blog last night by googling "gabriella cilmi drunk". I'm glad I'm not </span></span><a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/10/drunk-or-just-really-really-happy.html#links"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">the only one</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> who thought she was oddly slurry and inarticulate...</span></span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>

hello monday

ladies, listen up! if you love shoes and bags and sparkly brooches, but want to read about them in a magazine that encourages environmental-...

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is that music i hear?

i'm sprawled on my couch watching the Aria's (for the sole reason of catching a glimpse of the divine Josh Pyke) and for perhaps the hundredth time this year, I'm scratching my head and trying to work out the appeal of Gabriella Cilmi. I'm sure she's a fabulous girl (and i hope to god that she has a good head on her shoulders) but come on ... surely SOMEONE has to have noticed that her music is... well, pretty freakin' boring. bland. monotonous. unoriginal. <div><br /></div><div>It just makes me feel sad when a 17-year-old pop artist whose main claim to fame is a song with only about 12 words in the lyrics beats out truly magnificent artists like Angus and Julia Stone, Clare Bowditch, Holly Throsby etc. Quirky lyrics, haunting melodies and unique instrumental arrangements... isn't that what a winner makes? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ps. i hate to be a bitch (okay, i love it) but judging from her four acceptance speeches tonight i think Gabriella might be a bit drunk. otherwise she certainly has a... um, unique way of speaking... oops. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

is that music i hear?

i'm sprawled on my couch watching the Aria's (for the sole reason of catching a glimpse of the divine Josh Pyke) and for perhaps the...

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birds on strings

<div><div>one of my best friends and I have a secret talent; we are both amazingly brilliant at discovering new and unknown music acts (oh and we're terribly modest too. right <a href="http://sheetsandstitches.blogspot.com/">prue</a>?). When we were working together at the adelaide fringe festival, we'd spend a good deal of the day chit-chatting on MSN (i should probably mention we sat about 5 metres apart) about absolute nonsense, and sending back and forth little clips of our favourite tunes. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>we both have a deep love for quiet music; beautifully orchestrated little humming-birds of songs that don't yell or scream or patronise you. it's the soothing factor i think that does it for me; the sense of utter giddiness of listening to something honest and quietly important. Quirky lyrics most often make an appearance, together with a good deal of foot-tapping goodness.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>we both lay claim to having 'discovered' the musical genius of the extraordinary <a href="http://www.myspace.com/cathypetocz">Cathy Petozc</a> (even the experts agreed; a month or two after we had waxed lyrical about her sweet voice, she won a triple j unearthed/fuse festival competition). Cathy's songs employ few lyrics; but the words that she does use are hauntingly candid, and portray a songwriter with a refreshing take on the world. Her songs are like moving poems, sweet and youthfully sensual. They remind me of liquid gold, so smooth is her voice. she is Australia's very own Regina Spektor.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>If you find yourself a lady of leisure (or a gentleman, for that matter) this weekend, make yourself a steamy mug of spicy chai, buy a custard danish and curl up in front of your laptop. Open up your browser and head to triplejunearthed.com.au - i now give you permission to crank that volume waaay up, throw open the shutters and let down your hair. Losing yourself in the magic of a veritable wonderland of completely untouched, brand-spankin' new music acts is the most... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">satisfying</span> feeling. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>When i feel restless in the world, and i'm feeling a little disjointed and out-of-step, this always helps. I have a feeling it might be just the thing for you too. My picks this week are:</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1554"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah Humphreys</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">ghost on the roof + waiting to burn</span>) </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1239">Margaret Helen King</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">move faster, it makes you more alive</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=617"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/View.aspx?artistid=20857">Little Scout</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">dead loss + the festival</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=617">Laura K</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">dead flat</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=21001">Hannah&Sam</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">who's bitten me?</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=9936"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=9936">The John Steel Singers</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">strawberry wine</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=13355">Helen Shanahan</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">little boy</span>)</div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1817"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Sam Buckingham</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">sweetest sound</span>) <br /></div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=10139"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Rachel Gorman</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">traveling light</span>)</div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1945"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Emily Smart</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">italy, easily broken</span>)</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257735759803556290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqfDzA2bhVoMKjbnhNQXHwO2UzlufGjaViONSuwGM09dlJHj4FyBU52vRx_JiYpOzyT8mVwcwdBsad7bDaGJDj8mboOZ_Vc6wLTMy1HaR4PlcELpy8jaNJSIwYgUlOmFTvl-lEdNTicE/s400/+USETHIS.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><div style="text-align: left;">let it all go...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div></div>

birds on strings

one of my best friends and I have a secret talent; we are both amazingly brilliant at discovering new and unknown music acts (oh and we'...

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summer in the city

When daylight savings kicks in -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">finally</span> -- it always seems to me that the whole city just lets out this huge breath. The tight winter air exhales from our lungs; the dusty particles float weightlessly into the warm air and we feel lighter, and just that little bit more giddy. Stockings are pulled gingerly from legs, heavy coats move to the back of the wardrobe and painted toenails peek gamely from sandals.   I love the subtle shift in energy; we feel freer, braver and the world seems a little easier to exist in.<div><br /></div><div>As i type, windows are being flung open around me. Snatches of conversation reverberate in the stifling air, and the subtle smells of roasting chicken and simmering spag bol drift from kitchens. Wet towels are flung over railings, white sheets float gaily on the adjacent rooftop, and the British backpackers have set up their own little rooftop campsite; with their cups of hot tea and buttered Vegemite squares they could be taken for true-blue Aussies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Strains of overlapping music drifts from the different apartments -- my next door neighbour favours the vocal stylings of Britney, Christina and Whitney, while the couple across the alleyway watch Will & Grace reruns on repeat, laughing at the same jokes over and over. The Irish musician upstairs who inhales a never-ending joint taps his feet in tune to Belle+Sebastian and the Japanese family down the hall have their tiny TV on a neverending cycle of cheesy cartoons. It all forms a beautiful sort of cacophony and I suddenly have the fiercest desire to run and get the largest glass jar i can get my hands on and bottle it all up; all the sounds and songs and smells, all the talking and fighting and laughing and that incomparable feeling of weightlessness; of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">summer in the city</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bgZgYjK76aQ&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bgZgYjK76aQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>

summer in the city

When daylight savings kicks in -- finally -- it always seems to me that the whole city just lets out this huge breath. The tight winter air...

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a healthy dose of lust

<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">confession #7</span> i am obsessed - no, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">addicted</span> - to peeking inside other people's homes. It isn't the architecture that i'm interested in, or the design of the bathroom or the slant of the stairs; no, I'm much more nosey than that. It's the personal aspects that i lust over -- where the quirky artworks originated from, the intriguing mix of different colours, textures and prints, how the kitchen drawers have been organised, where that antique dresser was sourced, who does the flowers, what inspired the paint colours etc etc... <br /></div><div><br /><div> </div><div>One of my drugs of choice (it helps calm the nerves after a stressful day) is the US site <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/">Apartment Therapy</a>. i LOVE the <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/main/home-tours">house tours</a>; how genius that you can peek inside houses all over the world, even in your pj's while drinking tea and nibbling on cashew nuts? While drinking my morning coffee today, i did a bit of house-stalking and came across an absolute gem; artist Madeleine Stamer's cosy abode.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Madeleine is the brainchild behind Australian label <a href="http://www.littlecircusdesign.com/">Little Circus Design</a>. A Melbourne painter+illustrator, i love Madeleine's <a href="http://madeleinestamer.typepad.com/photos/limited_edition_prints/index.html">work</a> for its playfulness, whimsical longing and for the rich and varied depth of colours she employs. Her house is just as beautiful as her work...</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630983610328530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpj61VU_wJGPdC9i7Wkaqek9-Nt0bL7lbyOVn5rvEPhm3i3c1p3CCe-FPfbZ-eAJP_blW4EH89N66ZuRsaJJgLh0GqYX59kForIIhsQsBmSgBTyx53lo7F56xSzLVE_5bVkSAcbbpkCE0/s400/mad1.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630988752336274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjupSlhbwvNcEbfMGM17asA0UEDRkBhCn5KC7kLLTBYR5_gPkXZXNeEmDqCHot1vc4xHDjUjzC4HzwvVPZ-4Vpc3QqK1kO-TaIqKcf3Fr69AUqDIL-ef0XM8ryLpFCeBzuRt1ZhyphenhyphenLUFU/s400/mad2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630988365327154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIqR0Qz4ixdVUR_IaAwGP-d5CmNjcGxYVJ_lO-id3Ev0deNrCSB3vH2-UqvvlAQMoDYVr_xMOre-so6XwmAVFZ2agL-sF-bvuRfezRQAS1yduAGgnFxms0tk3wemUnIlQ7Rsgorl0CR0/s400/mad3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630994502343106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG10Msxc5vaAr-9gl1INv90QnVaZ7AwWhL5h50erjVeOLXGFj-C-9HHx-XRzRQ-0bhv3SXjiRQzJIVdR_SpWddo7GEsBTeK-4jfTRDHwjj16iEOjClzJmzZC9QhbNg0g3t_GM5bbRNcSQ/s400/mad4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633113226225058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8W3mDuPfa2_94Khs37XMuTKAXG97unn7dSFxkpcRYO7pnSoVz42txVKcfudZ49zc49AbezVxLXpwTA7LbEgSbPJ7aPe_C3KK-sGNbCFgqt0jD-mP7GWjiJWi9KSloWxLdtGJ2r43c0As/s400/mad8.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633107755946818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp2-GCJin8EDu1vsW9_t1BZDr9Ta-jz4Zdk_qrcc6N8Tt5-Tn-pcbkcN_qQ2CDpm4ghkF6HZzCPwcR-3qf6J61Vufs6yyQe0yGWXSVK1m7wg2tpAQMas_DnjAxTBG10UVSEK0TjZQUK8/s400/mad6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633109272001138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAO_o3ldEatmAeaUpfvDTWgc39OjFyiLfyciv7dwHf_ZV61pGW9i6FmScTAhkLVXaWv7GNhc3sMqQ0cfBcMLODYobzeu3lxsxD5kDbpGf1fVo4YN4b8LvusLIAbPJ_qzSibeBmN8lVm4w/s400/mad7.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630997622406930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjashZTmOrf-uyMcM7DPa9poVnNkgdPSHB4HDA9AxKEowCH9PomCxctXsQ6lifdn2ZswqTMHnU6ozRd0PaAv06ryiOS1CUYaKAqi1kKNdmTOZBbG6hIhRYw6vGKUnYBApy2XYdGyizxX_0/s400/mad5.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633115813933346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZIpowwmU_YLK-a8bXyU0T9_sJ9aXx0Ga6efKcDfAeMuE0WZkiymilMT0ZFc_Bsjor335_lvAgidKgx0j_aOXckBmhkpJbQ5peq5BCk6lOayN72Q4WiorzTHYKezpvySDSZOLXdiSXwI/s400/mad9.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633115859824658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6MtNirNuVCnX482PzgjUtvKVKuA5DILFNRzVMMQA-Tc8-9nlF4FBa4WnNWmKQ7BhvBY2SyboQQ3mq5F9h4Bw3mxTcJF4e6WRw32ATL7Ev1Jm-T93XTqwHYh9r35I7mkPjpF1bNO0S7c/s400/mad10.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div>I love that her house isn't stylised; it isn't cold or unattainable or stark. A family lives here without the fear of spills or wear and tear. The colours aren't perfectly matched; in fact there's a sweet vulnerability about the decor, while at the same time being gloriously simple and clean. Strong lines dominate the space, while all of Madeleine's artwork and travel mementos add a sense of familiarity and belonging. Plus, i am seriously lemming that kitchen table. Clean, cool wood, perfectly sized, simply cut... ahhhh. I'm happy, I've had my hit. Your turn!</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>happy house-stalking...</div><div>ness x</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>

a healthy dose of lust

confession #7 i am obsessed - no, addicted - to peeking inside other people's homes. It isn't the architecture that i'm intere...

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"i would, like, totally give my left arm for this job"

oh NO. no, no, no. <div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9g767oOfpSk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9g767oOfpSk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /><div>come on people, do we really need ANOTHER show/movie depicting how dumb and shallow the magazine industry is? </div><div><br /></div><div>apparently, yes -- going by the newly released trailer for <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.cwtv.com/shows/stylista">Stylista</a>, </span>a TopModel-esque reality show depicting the trials and tribulations of 12 fashion wanabees as they each vie for an editor role at Elle magazine. During the three minute preview, we encounter bitching to the nth degree, backstabbing, body image pressure and tearful apologies when the Fashion Director's iced latte is served with a LONG STRAW rather than a short straw (i know. fire her ass!)</div><div><br /></div><div>It does little to quell the public perception that we who work at mags are a bunch of bitchy, backstabbing, iced-latte-drinking cows. One girl claims that "she'd like, seriously, like, give her left arm for the job, like". After getting yelled at for not throwing the Fashion Director's niece a proper birthday party (wha---?), i wanted to hug the poor darling and bring her back to my mag world, where the women are empowered, supportive and give better advice then "Oh honey, i'd lose the red top... thing. You look kinda like a waitress".</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">but will i be watching? you betcha ;) </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ness x</span></div></div></div>

"i would, like, totally give my left arm for this job"

oh NO. no, no, no.  come on people, do we really need ANOTHER show/movie depicting how dumb and shallow the magazine industry is?  apparentl...

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they like me! they really like me!

the fabulously stylish Amanda over at <a href="http://swishandswanky.blogspot.com/">swish and swanky</a> has tagged me to do a little meme. the rules? i must share six random facts about myself, then tag six fellow bloggers to do the same. <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/secret-life-of-ness_07.html#links">again</a>, apologies for the self-indulgence -- but rules are rules!<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">one</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">i love watching documentaries and reading books about WWII. not sure why, just that i find the subject matter intricately fascinating. in particular i love books that deal with Hitler's life history and family tree.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">two</span></span> </span>i have an obsessive personality. i eat the same salad for lunch every day, don't tire of watching the same TV episodes repeatedly and can quite happily listen to a particular album or song over and over and over again. in fact, i think my record for playing a song continuously on repeat is 3 days. (which song, you ask? guess)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">three</span> </span>my favourite part of baking is eating the batter.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">four</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">when i was a wee ness, i used to convince my little sister that $5 notes were of lesser value than 50c coins, so that she'd give me all her notes and I'd swap her for coins. (sorry zed)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">five</span></span> </span>i already have my children's names picked out (clucky? me?)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">six</span></span> </span>more than often, life reminds me of something i have read in a book. I always wonder, shouldn't it be the other way round?</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>that was so much harder than i thought it would be...</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>In return, I'm tagging two of my best friends: Lucy (<a href="http://aboxofthree.blogspot.com/">a box of three) </a>& Prue (<a href="http://sheetsandstitches.blogspot.com/">sheets&stitches).</a></div><div>Two new friends that i've met recently in blogosphere are also getting tagged: Christine (<a href="http://christine-louise.blogspot.com/">christine-louise</a>) & Clare (<a href="http://murkymakeup.blogspot.com/">murky makeu</a>p) as well as two bloggers whose style, words and general fabulousness inspires me every time they post: Pia (<a href="http://blog.piajanebijkerk.com/WordPress/">pia jane bijkerk</a>) and Joslyn (<a href="http://simplelovely.blogspot.com/">simple lovely</a>).<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm off to bed with a cup of milky earl grey and one of my <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/10/hills-are-alive-with-sound-of-sirens.html">new books</a> but before i do; i have to share that i got the new Josh Pyke album, Chimney's Afire, today. I've had it on repeat since i got home from yoga, and it's hard to describe how i feel when i listen to it. On one hand, light and carefree and giddy -- on the other hand, my heart is heavy because his music contains so much natural beauty and honesty that i feel overwhelmed. conundrum!</div><div><br /></div><div>I've <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-all-about-love.html">already posted</a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Lighthouse Song, </span>his first single from the album, but <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Parking Lots, Don't Wanna Let You Down </span>and<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Candle in the Window </span>are just as good, if not better. Get it; i promise it will not disappoint...</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x </div>

they like me! they really like me!

the fabulously stylish Amanda over at swish and swanky  has tagged me to do a little meme. the rules? i must share six random facts about my...

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the hills are alive with the sound of sirens

outside, the wind is on a rampage. Tree branches fall clumsily from trunks, the water from the Kings Cross fountain sprays magnificently over passing pedestrians and filthy plastic bags swirl spectacularly out-of-tune. It's like there is something ominous in the air; people furiously scurry by, blotting their watery eyes with old tissues, and the near sound of overlapping sirens bleats loud and furious. I walked home from the movies tonight; i now sport tangly hair and dust has settled on my eyelashes and in the crooks of my ears. I also fear that i may have inhaled a tree-worth of pollen in the process -- but i don't mind; somehow the wind makes things more exciting, more alive. the world <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">does</span> have a pulse!<div><br /></div><div>With the weather wild, i thought i'd go and see <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Duchess, </span>do some book shopping and lose myself in the day's papers over a long black. The movie was really lovely; nothing world-altering but certainly entertaining and definitely an eye-opener to how women (and the less-fortunate) were treated back in the 18th century. I also agree with all of the recent reviews that this is probably Keira Knightley's best performance to date. For the first time -- since <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Bend it like Beckham </span>anyway -- i forgot that it was Keira i was seeing on screen, and really got involved with her character. She still had a lot of her throaty mannerisms but on the whole, she was very good. Definitely improving.</div><div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4p2UtgtJuDk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4p2UtgtJuDk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There are so many good films out at the moment; I'm also dying to see <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0Xql3fDM44">Brideshead Revisited</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTjbBP9YjgM">Towelhead</a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmVNHnGh4bE">Bitter & Twisted</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">. </span>Just not enough free time (or money!) Yes, i think I would like a public holiday once a month, please. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>My book shopping was successful too, there's just so many that i want to read right now. I bought <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">America America </span>by Ethan Canin, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Zookeeper's War </span>by Steven Conte (partly cos i'm reading it for a book club, and partly cos i was intrigued after it picked up the 2008 Prime Minister's Literary Award) and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Krueger's Men: The Secret Nazi Counterfeit Plot </span>(the recent movie <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Counterfeiters </span>was based on this; i missed out on seeing it at the movies, but the book looks just as good). </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's funny that i qualm at spending $60+ on a shirt or a pair of shoes but have no hesitation at spending that kind of money on books. Maybe because books don't remind you that you hate your thighs, or that your feet are ugly and oddly shaped. Instead, they talk to you and educate you, make you laugh and cry and think and dream. They take you to worlds you can only dream of going to, or places in time that are now obsolete. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Before i head off to indulge in some new words, nibble on some pita bread+humous and watch Denton; i want to share with you a website that i came across a couple of days ago: <a href="http://www.beforeidieiwantto.org/">www.beforeidieiwantto.org</a>. It's a polaroid project started in 2008 by two girls from the US. They ask strangers what their goal before they die is, take their photo and get their contact details. The site is updated weekly with new polaroids. Then, as the years pass, the girls will contact their subjects to see how their goal is progressing. It's completely fascinating, and not as morbid as i thought it would be -- i really urge you to check it out.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Before i die i want to</span> write a novel. How about everyone else?</div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253967538250721490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwe8II2LhePJoeFUH_VpN5mG27cuUnnq-UaJoaRjAHMNqACRb0vlLnC9srpcF8iONE5-VZsPDUvCfHdUCY4644DmMhc2LDuNXlAWuYRfnlpaCoPJ6M07DDwyJbW5T5c_ZSkMrrdcvKK_Y/s400/die2.png" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253967538699955954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrwbl2s0ID0Nn5T8Tk4p-o9fks7r53y_eavZq1MMYGgvpAJ6jbVehpjgyn4PZRgCUZS3zojcgDXWs2I9pWagoSFqJeJ-ZJFayFjJdymZle1NgdN04Zpd8P6c5XCOB1H50dD4WgkLasG4/s400/die1.png" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>ness x</div>

the hills are alive with the sound of sirens

outside, the wind is on a rampage. Tree branches fall clumsily from trunks, the water from the Kings Cross fountain sprays magnificently ove...

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if i hear britney one more time...

my next door neighbour, my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">very</span></span> </span>super-muscly tank-top-wearing neighbour, is playing Britney Spears and Aretha Franklin on repeat. i figure i have two options: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">a)</span> be amused. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">b)</span> be frightened. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">c)</span> raise the stakes in this music-war and crank up the volume on my own stereo. really, just ANYTHING to drown out the whine of britney --  so i chose option C.<div><br /><div>my tunes of choice is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1HDZNR9cY4">Ladyhawke</a>, excellent at blocking out the high-pitched wailing of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">hit me baby one more time. </span>i mean, seriously. SERIOUSLY? what can he be doing in there that needs the vocal styling of Aretha and Britney to guide him? what, lifting weights? making beans on toast? crying or laughing or wallowing or having sex? whatever it is, surely he can find someone more interesting, less women-hear-me-roar kind of music to listen to.</div><div><br /></div><div>personally, i find <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYKY2e4GE9Q">Josh Pyke</a> to be kind to my ears when i feel like crap, i love <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKPXPJryp3g">Charlotte Gainsbourg</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fwh-9T8oD0&feature=related">Nouvelle Vague</a> when i feel the need to dance around my apartment in my underwear, the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecc9pcjJTpk">Kooks</a> when i need someone to just shout at me and Sarah Blasko when... well, always...</div></div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ADm41Aw3LXo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ADm41Aw3LXo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />this has got to be my most favourite video clip ever. no matter how shitty i am, this always makes me laugh. <div><br /></div><div>oh gawd, now i think he's playing the soundtrack from that god-awful movie Britney did a thousand years ago, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Crossfire </span>something-or-other. this must stop. NOW. does anyone have any ideas as to how i can alleviate my poor, crying ears? anyone?</div>

if i hear britney one more time...

my next door neighbour, my very   super-muscly tank-top-wearing neighbour, is playing Britney Spears and Aretha Franklin on repeat. i figure...

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herbs and alcohol don't mix

<div style="text-align: left;">oh i am a lazy lazy girl. one o'clock on a saturday afternoon and just now am i getting up, woken only by the perpetually drunk british backpackers at the hostel next door. Thank god they did though, or else i'd probably still be laying here like a lump under my nice warm covers. 'Tis raining outside though, which always makes the nicest sleeping-in weather. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div> </div><div>The fat droplets lazily fall past my open window, gathering in murky puddles in the alleyway outside. The brits next door don't seem to care though; they have set up a tarp over their bbq up on their rooftop balcony and are cooking up giant greasy hunks of steak, which they will most probably devour in large sticky white bread rolls with lashings of tomato sauce. Their choice of music this afternoon? Green Day, interspersed with snippets of blink 182. Yes, my dear readers, it seems that they have taken a trip back in time to 1999. I'm feeling tres` emo right now, perhaps i will drag out my punk attire from my early years of high school and get into the spirit. (afterthought: nah, too lazy, plus -- unless it's a LBD, i don't really rock the black clothing look anymore).</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>After a v.late night last night (had dinner+dessert with the lovely vogue girls at darling harbour, followed by drinking and salsa dancing at a random kings cross spanish tapas bar with my friend CM), i do feel like i deserve a bit of lay-in, especially after a long/hellish week at work. (people? i hate them). </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The bright spot amongst all of the utter-stupidly i had to deal with the past week? discovering these <a href="http://www.top3.com.au/detail.php?item_name=self+watering+planters">self-watering planters</a> from the very talented people at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.evasolo.com/">Eva Solo.</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "> I am currently obsessed with starting my own little herb garden, which ultimately proves very difficult when you live in a studio with no balcony (i do have a rooftop balcony that i share with the rest of my building, but i fear that my plants would most likely get spiked. Believe me, i've tried. Cheap vino and parsley just don't mix). </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">Designed by Claus Jensen and Henrick Holbuk, the planter very cleverly waters itself for up to a week, eliminating all the mess and dirt associated with watering normal pots. All you have to do is add water to the bottom vase, where a little wick will bring moisture up to the soil as the plant requires it. Not only is the design self-sufficient, but the aesthetic of the planters is just genius, resulting in what i think is the perfect blend of form+function. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172498702960530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNz_NrYlPE5cvGcqpFTkvctZPa5WBkLZtXyyWusqtyXE5H0uTo7r-IJEgy1CoNJfloirE5vVD6Q2AMB_ti6PahVbvXt4rnMnF9Omr5hHsdb3Arx3yVFw5NqKkpWXCYezkx8xFGc4Iimc/s400/herb1.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172504514341522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJ2syKZIiVZXdXWNRLhO2DBMwnZebnUSA7YJFtI3zgr6UJRPU6kKFt1wNwhru642O8tqqaQ5YjBgauKIcAiMUlv0-ZQSZkFCqIxsM8Sgx_vbPBxRbaMSfFUqoGrGbvTT2NQTgHZLig2M/s400/herb2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172506108338578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYabKfevM08LDSBumWnh-tZm587_FJs5r_Hr9yUMDPfr_E2r0eCJ6e6jhBwbKGSO-zwJ74VjtQ3L7V1baBhGtJO-YSluRL7q5v_AT1tJLZvxUb6CW4A1nlqa3N39Ig0E-eBdyRIFv4Z8/s400/herb3.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>they are quite well priced too -- $60 for the small (11cm) and $70 for the larger (13cm) <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">*someone has  a birthday coming up too, hint hint :)</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If that's a little out of your price range, and you're still desperate for a stylish way to present your herbs (or any plants, for that matter), i also love the </span><a href="http://www.top3.com.au/detail.php?item_name=chalk+panel+planter+%D813x14cm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">chalk panel planters</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> from ASA Selection. At only $15 per pot, they are a bargain. Even though they're not self-watering, the cute ceramic pots with handy chalk labels all but makes up for that. i want!</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253175956082386386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCglVnWH-f1VaIp7gTugNKNdw9sT_ORECKtFN9LVsIQ_7aBqOUb6DgO2hfJPDJ-8SYxK1oN3ahcyGw4voCGV1-J6zizKUwyGyI-YhHiKWL0Y1Lpque2-qczP9sTGL3I0EQyJ23U-8IQAY/s400/herb4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><div> </div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So my lovelies, what are you waiting for? Get out the gardening gloves, head down to your local nursery and get a-plantin'! Think about how much better that spag bol will taste with fresh basil cut straight from your own little garden...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div>

herbs and alcohol don't mix

oh i am a lazy lazy girl. one o'clock on a saturday afternoon and just now am i getting up, woken only by the perpetually drunk british ...

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apple of my eye

<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">mid-week musings...</span><br /></div><div><div>monday + public holiday = <a href="http://happylovestrawberry.blogspot.com/2008/06/pudding-in-your-pocket.html">apple crumble bake-off</a>. doesn't this look amazingly mouth-wateringly delish? there's nothing i love more than apple crumble but in a slice that you can carry around with you? genius! </div><div> </div><div> <div> </div><div> </div></div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252160134658061762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc0qXapj4klbD0RiXXaRlcZ9eZ7SPXMKtV78nJ0OK3QVaE2MJ434WWETGmUsztEUak1-jlN3iuRdYYfEaWpvZt7HeuXdRJLCxExouY2cC2ZYJuf80wIFvWw5LDeIQ1EiLmk5uQSuEMy4/s400/musing2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">every Sunday <a href="http://www.postsecret.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">PostSecret</span></a> is updated with hauntingly sad, frightfully honest secrets, sent in to its creator Frank Warren from all over the globe. On Monday mornings, i take pleasure in arriving at work just that little bit early, settling down at my Mac with a long black and slowly reading all of the newly-released confessions. (if you're not sure what i'm talking about, read <a href="http://www.postsecretcommunity.com/news-faq/postsecret-story">this</a>.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">although not as shocking or mysterious as others posted last Sunday, this particular admission was my hands-down fave. it tickled the corners of my coffee-stained lips...</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252162975011586018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibx2l9ChZwsuYFGvhuPuFbL7w_iqMjXAjY-n95QKE87NePvk94DPNY34NOoymgt7r52H2SGFq4eqtpOyHHY7RrSSEa_iNErySAAmzhc_RV1c8_pVAExHOfnXZYRUadxSAwxjEB76Sfewo/s400/musing1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">my current design crush and weekly <a href="http://www.etsy.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">etsy</span></a> pick is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5676487">things by bubbo-tubbo</a>. </span>a modern-day Alice In Wonderland, this Russian designer is quirky, eccentric and comes completely out of left-field, resulting in the most endearing illustrations and artwork. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252166764079011794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXvfM3OIDA9Z5EchyhlegY0Xzq5m8AMpF5B5E0vORMeqHKenf044UJjzRIUBDSmw2ZapnctztHnJLS2rJkXXSm98ZeH44JY58ioBPljM3LoqzW9YZPy-2-9DEFZj9ST74M29AovpSJvY/s400/musing3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252167100639774850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CoxGVyL-l8k3XAEmFqX_Nfsv16A5y8GWVjxSJTFo33X6-ak6xkA3em-tCKeDrVol5drJGuf4bKfTaBa_l2CJKqCwl4EXwzcaZq0SOptZbNudvMyV-DGtz2OLA_cCkhJEOnL-WumXBYk/s400/musing5.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252166769886397906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-r4Vw9Jo-RzmpI48W0qS1am2_XfI_WiAiAYVeCrbilWIg7KNRNEZ0Ih8NoiEp1sKD-RMo23li35lxB1CaHRtCF1o93QzbjExd1P5oPkITT5iz-tpmGU_lrT88BU4PEZkFbzGkikfXEik/s400/musing4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">and lastly (cos i did two gym classes tonight and i'm a tired-ness), today is the first day of Good Food Month in sydney-town, which means... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Night Noodle Markets</span> in Hyde Park! I for one am looking forward to sampling delicious dumplings + slippery noodles with friends as i lay in the scratchy grass of the park in blistering heat. If you feel like joining me, please do! I'm planning to go along the first monday+tuesday night it starts (dates and info are <a href="http://gfm.smh.com.au/_product_29872/Night_Noodle_Markets_-_Hyde_Park_North">here</a>.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>

apple of my eye

mid-week musings... monday + public holiday = apple crumble bake-off . doesn't this look amazingly mouth-wateringly delish? there's ...

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plastic is spastic

along with moronic parents who smoke around their children and ppl who thnk its gr8 to rite n typ n txt lnge, plastic bags rate extremely high on my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">burn in hell list</span>. plastic bags don't just urk me... no, the very sight of them leaves me twitchy and sweaty, hot blood rushes to my ears and i feel strangely violent. <div><br /><div> </div><div>when i was 17 and working at a supermarket, the highlight of my day was refusing bags to suited yuppies buying packets of gum and tic tacs. They'd get all pouty, I'd remind them that hands, oddly enough, are excellent at holding things, and then my greasy-haired supervisor would drag me into the locker rooms for yet another talking to about customer service yap yap yap.  </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>those green Woolies and Coles bags aren't too attractive, I'll give you that, so to entice you (my beautiful, savvy, eco-friendly readers) into staying clear of the evil plastic spawn, I've done a bit of a round-up on my fave alternatives...</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.chipchop.com.au/">Chip Chop</a> </span>is the brainchild of sydney designer Hannah Chipkin, and reflects her colourful, left-of-field perspective on all things big and small. An eco-advocate, Hannah not only designs canvas totes but also cotton tees (organically-farmed), washed denim bags and quirky jewellery. I LOVE the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Origami+Pilates</span> one but alas, it is currently all sold-out... The <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Bag Brown Big</span> comes in at a close second though...</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251812039612447906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-HTIBmcX9A0gqDXd-c4z5SAfuuxfRsoGzdNQyCATtR-E8kt5renU8AbBjlKnr5454F8WG_UR7j5gFDcoDkFTmHCOKJE4_eh25dt1YDJiPux0lSPitQQPft0PvFsY4uJnzxMWV_cX5jI/s400/bag3.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251812033396162866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD72mSvRmfQ6iCdaH3nkl8awE7H-YY43rboPe83qFUL3tWohvlFGj_ydUruSa1NsXBf3aQjR0gcuGKrg4oAOGpz1BNe1J6QbHB06hCca2TuFkfjVQ4rYN2nZCArf92m2FABsq_DtIYW5Y/s400/bag2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When i heard on the grapevine that one of my fave jewellery labels <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.elkaccessories.com.au/">Elk</a></span> was foraying into the world of accessories, my heart skipped a little beat. My excitement was completely justified when i laid eyes on their first attempt at a bag; a gorgeous organic, undyed cotton tote, printed with Elk's eco graphic in non-toxic inks. Perfect package, vous ne pensez pas?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823848116752066" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULKue1z33XRSDZI1lGSkS-DDlO9YRc7jVAWtqErkZB5N1fmNJ8QtbrJ3e-rbpSwFlmWXhHbRslWSgDtW3lpMnhOIL8Am-sUW23zSE3O8I84IfDtA2aFzyC0wd7OaZOnmc-IlokPc4XsU/s400/Picture+10.png" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Although not as pretty as Chip Chop or Elk, a lot has to be said for the <a href="http://www.envirosax.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">EnviroSax</span></a> range, founded in Australia in 2004. The original designer reusable bag, these come in packs of 5 in more than a dozen prints, and have an attractive price tag to boot. Perfect for the handbag or the car glovebox; these cuties fold up into the niftiest little squares.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251822158416275746" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbGvaLsBLPvCF23wHzFwfH2DD9kV-eyWu5MkkNJEtw-4TfYBKqCWpuO6knj1xjuOl1ZNNXS7DjLE1lAXW6MYbQy4Uw43ICuYKPyub7lUtZUbpg_OoCBxzuOxdPI0VNruevDowGBSgRds/s400/bag4.png" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">You've probably heard of <a href="http://ww.bagladies.com.au/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The Bag Ladies</span></a> before, they've been on the design radar for a while now and have proven not to be a passing fad; they've been going strong since 2006. They boast a truckload of cute slogans which are screenprinted onto vinyl, canvas, demin and cotton totes. My picks:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251821792963004066" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivd6Zawq-s6LM2R0mZb1vY1TqhQkkr2z6IxxOnFhgMONY8CW-AZt96d0KTbbf0JURPEv5GuLGP6IFv_DT84dhWtaBhpwx3-zKDnpOfKD5XIF1itF_g9fEEwM6UGjkBJm4H0Zg7Xyd_W3c/s400/bag5.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251821792387129522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHW3MyS7uc40CYy6NskgyDPCu7V-EZ7V-vr-tUb-xKG1gr6xHikOvwTMLJb8iINB-2prAerqSh5hdUqDiTxU89vbdNvvhjRF91dLrw_excvZE1FgibnRhn26L8eoX66W-ofcwyGbNydEA/s400/bag6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Eco-conscious US fashion label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.shopbeausoleil.com/bag.php">Beau Soleil</a></span> (translates as 'beautiful sun'), has produced one of my definite stand-outs this season; the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Reduce, Recycle, Renew</span> bag. I always go a bit weak at the knees when it comes to this ultra-clean classic style; i just have a bit of a thing for canvas and navy blue. I'm sure it's because of all the Esprit my mother dressed me in as a child (albeit very trendy i must add). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Doesn't the slogan remind you of reciting rhymes in primary school? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">'Between 11 and 3, stay under a tree'</span>... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">'Slip, slop, slap'</span>... But i'm not complaining; anything nostalgic is fine by me! </div><div style="text-align: left;">Cos it's US it's a little harder to get your hands on, but the website link I've given you offers quite a few different online stores (plus, at US$44 how can you go wrong?)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251826458525751746" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cf29gtyRKWLQryKxnctjdCP8Q6YssqfsCLUASJEI8x1JZrBmV6TBoK48mRl3vQ7_55xBpWiV_z814THsjRgbsrzzKsPaKPNCFS7dSI50zETBAiievvn_6VKcQxUCaPwAUPQwsQQCn3A/s400/bag7.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Alright my greedy hens, you've kept me up waay past my bedtime... can you just give up the plastic already? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;font-size:11px;"> </span></div></div></div></div>

plastic is spastic

along with moronic parents who smoke around their children and ppl who thnk its gr8 to rite n typ n txt lnge, plastic bags rate extremely hi...

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banana-rama

<div><div>tonight I had my friend CM over for an evening of Good Bad TV (you know, those shows/movies that are so horrifically bad that they're actually good), which obviously called for some delicious baked goods. Inspired by a recipe posted recently on one of my fave blogs, <a href="http://blog.piajanebijkerk.com/WordPress/"><span style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonecolor:windowtext;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Pia Jane Biljkerk</span></span></a>, I decided to put all my overly ripe bananas to good use and cook up some <a href="http://blog.piajanebijkerk.com/WordPress/2008/02/11/sunday-bake-off/"><span style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonecolor:windowtext;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">banana and chocolate slice</span></span></a>. I couldn't find the exact recipe on her blog, so i just took direction from the photograph and made it up. It was delish! recipe below:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">chocolate and banana slice</span></span><br />1 cup self raising flour <br />pinch of salt<br />1/4 cup of milk <br />1 egg, beaten slightly <br />1/2 teaspoon baking powder <br />3/4 cup castor sugar <br />60 grams butter <br />1/2 cup mashed banana (pref. very ripe)<br />1 ripe banana (for topping), sliced thinly<br />1/2 teaspoon cinnamon<br />1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg<br />1/2 cup coarsely chopped good quality dark chocolate (i used Lindt)<br />1/2 cup finely processed Dutch cocoa<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">1. </span>Sift flour and add salt, sugar, baking powder, chocolate, cocoa and spices and stir gently together. <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">2.</span> Melt the butter over low heat and mix the egg, milk, butter and banana together, combining well. <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">3.</span> Make a well in the dry ingredients and slowly combine the dry ingredients. <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">4.</span> Pour into a greased lamington pan and bake for 25 - 30 minutes in a moderate oven. <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">5. </span>Reduce the heat, layer thin slices of banana over the top of the slice, and cook for a further 5 minutes until banana is golden. (i also sprinkled some brown sugar on top to create a caramelised effect). </div><div><br /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251680917568478674" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2mQ8f9XXv3t9srdHzWFAuuQo7Xvuo0h1HB8ssO6T2NioCa9yJzNGLOGCRRSWv1uTegoGmw-3j-0cvVt15cod7Y-CWvPMqW-kXKYmgZPmV3yggDYweW0uZmOJEwaISDdlveskJSnvbN4/s400/choc-banana.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><br /></div><div>Did anyone catch Nigella Lawson on Enough Rope last night? I was so pleasantly surprised by the interview and more than a little embarrassed i have to admit. I have always pinned her as quite aloof, and a bit of an airhead. I was proven wrong though - she is one classy, super-intelligent, hypervigilant woman. She gave incredibly insightful opinions on the state of food across the world, on the obesity epidemic and discussed the seemingly worldwide view that her cooking shows are merely food porn. If you missed out, you can catch some of the highlights <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/tv/enoughrope/"><span style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonecolor:windowtext;">here</span></a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>love this:</div><div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">andrew:</span> you call yourself greedy, you use that word a lot about yourself. True story that you once accepted the challenge to eat 20 pickled eggs in ten minutes?</div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">nigella:</span> I’m not sure how many. It may even have been 30. But that I’m afraid was not so much about greed or not so much greed for food but financial greed because there was a thousand pounds riding on it.</div><div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">andrew:</span> what was it like to eat, did you win the bet?</div><div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">nigella:</span> i did it and I felt slightly contemptuous that anyone thought they could beat me in the eating stakes.<br /><br />classic!</div></div></div>

banana-rama

tonight I had my friend CM over for an evening of Good Bad TV (you know, those shows/movies that are so horrifically bad that they're ac...

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chaos theory

My apartment building is in the most densely populated suburb in Australia, or so they say. Summer comes, the windows go up and it's amazing what you overhear. We are all sandwiched together in our squat art deco buildings, separated only by alleyways where homeless men come to rest their heads. Tiny dogs yap from crowded balcony courtyards, the British backpackers across the way celebrate a perpetual party and the smell of pizza wafts from the nearby takeaway joints.<div><br /></div><div>Neighbours yell and smash wine glasses, walk around in their underwear, have noisy rave parties till 5am, pedal squeakily on their exercise bikes, pour dirty water out their windows, renovate their marble-lined bathrooms with rusty drills, practice the tuba at lazy staccato intervals, snore and laugh and fart and fight and have quiet, murmuring sex. </div><div><br /></div><div>It reminds me of all the sharehouses I've lived in; hearing other people's business and making the decision not to listen (or care). At first the intimacy and noise worried me; now i chime in as loudly as i want. I vacuum at midnight, wash laundry in my machine that thumps and jumps all over the floor, cook curry with the windows pushed open and the radio blaring and dance crazily in my underwear to old, scratched records. </div><div><br /></div><div>This morning, the sun is high and burning hot circles in the sky. The wind pushes my shutters slowly back and forward (slightly creaky) and the pigeons squark with excitement, their dirty beaks pecking at food scraps on the ground. Planes soar overhead and the washing from the backpackers hostel next door keeps gently wafting off the rooftop clothes line and into the crooked tree branches. Their yelps of surprise always make me smile. 'Blimey!' they cry, yellow squares of toast+vegemite hanging from their fingertips. 'My singlets gone and disappeared again,' they remark in bewilderment, standing on the rooftop in their fluro boxers, staring out at the laundry-lined trees. </div><div><br /></div><div>Homeless men and women loiter outside the Wayside Chapel, blinking sleepily as they shake off the remains of last night's interrupted sleep. Junkies take their morning hit; and the smell of booze from the last of the Kings Cross dipsomaniacs carries rank in the tepid air. Greasy burger wrappers rise and flutter, sailors from the nearby naval base saunter by, dipping their hats at girls in floral dresses, and the glint of the nearby Harbour Bridges winks at you from the distance. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yachts bob and up down in the marina at Rushcutters Bay; in Kings Cross fierce strip-club bouncers chat merrily with girls in lingerie under flashing fluorescent lights. Manicured poodles and their buff owners trot up and down the oak-lined avenues of Elizabeth Bay and in Potts Point, Chanel-clad women and punks with purple hair sit happily side-by-side, idly people-watching and sipping espressos.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is precinct full of contradictions, of oxymorons and stereotypes. Of wealthy widows and heroin addicts, of fairy lights and prostitutes. It gives me hope that blindingly different people can co-exist (relatively) peacefully together, that it might well be as easy as recognising the difference between tolerance and understanding. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love the noise and the smells and the screaming and the hustle and bustle of it all; it seems to placate me. It feels comforting, like hearing your father snore in the next room when you were little. It keeps me grounded, reminds me that unusual is always normal and that things are not always as they appear to be. </div><div><br /></div><div>happy friday :)</div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>

chaos theory

My apartment building is in the most densely populated suburb in Australia, or so they say. Summer comes, the windows go up and it's ama...

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a pome

today a friend asked me where the little quote up there below my blog name came from. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">when the world is puddle-wonderful </span>just so happens to be one of my favourite lines from a poem written by the great ee cummings:<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Just Spring</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">in Just-</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">spring       when the world is mud-</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">luscious the little</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">lame balloonman</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">whistles       far       and wee</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and eddieandbill come</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">running from marbles and</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">piracies and it's</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">spring</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">when the world is puddle-wonderful</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">the queer</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">old balloonman whistles</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">far       and       wee</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and bettyandisbel come dancing</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> from hop-scotch and jump-rope and</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">it's</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">spring</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">     the</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">             goat-footed</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></p></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">balloonMan       whistles</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">far</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">and</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">wee</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I love ee cummings for a thousand reasons (he, too - dislikes capital letters. i have been doing my best lucy dear but i just don't like those damn tall letters messing up my pretty prose), but mainly because of his incredibly unique prose style. notice the spaces, and the way the poem has been laid out? it is all very deliberate; when you read the poem to yourself or out loud, you'll find yourself naturally reading to his rhythm. </span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">he also makes up the most decadent words - don't you just adore saying <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">mud-luscious? </span>lastly, i love the way his poetry feels in your mouth, all round and tasty, like a giant juicy peach. the way the syllables overlap with each other; it's a very mother-goose-rhyme way of speaking. it reminds me of playing jump-rope for some reason (maybe because of the childhood songs?)</span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">anyway my sweets, i am off to bed; `tis just past midnight now and i have some tired footsies from my gym class tonight that are demanding a bit of shut-eye. i shall leave you with some more of mr ee cummings, just as long as you don't fall in love too fast. he's a bit of a cad, you see...</span></dt><dt><br /></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 3px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 3px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">i carry your heart with m</span>e                                      <br /><br />i carry your heart with me (i carry it in<br />my heart) i am never without it (anywhere<br />i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done<br />by only me is your doing, my darling)</span></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 3px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 3px; "><br />                                    i fear<br />no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want<br />no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)<br />and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant<br />and whatever a sun will always sing is you<br /><br />here is the deepest secret nobody knows<br />(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud<br />and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows<br />higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)<br />and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart<br /><br />i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)</span><br /></span></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></dt><dt><br /></dt><dt><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">ness x</span></dt></span></div></div>

a pome

today a friend asked me where the little quote up there below my blog name came from. when the world is puddle-wonderful just so happens to ...

Read more »