Daydreamer.

My desire to go back to Europe has hit me like a sledgehammer. I have spent hours over the past few days looking through my photos of the sixteen months I spent living in Europa and reading gleeful status updates from mid-2009 (thanks to the new fb timeline). I know everything wasn't sunshine and slow motion field running over there, but I had some of the best times of my life sprinkled in amongst the angst. My life right now? Reallllly not exciting. Don't get me wrong, I am not unhappy, not by a long shot - I am headed in the direction I want - I guess I am just a greedy little green grass dreamer.

2013.

 Segovia, Spain

Christmas markets in Bruges, Belgium

A Customer Crush and Brunch in Lorne

Ugh. I have a huge crush on a customer at work. He has come in the past two Sundays and I have served him and his pretty eyes. But this Sunday I was serving some bloody woman when he turned up and so pretty eyes bought his food from someone else. I was shattered. What a waste of a pair of my contact lenses. I've never had a customer crush  before, it's entertaining. When I saw him out of the corner of my eye I felt my cheeks flushing, ah so great to feel alive....and thirteen again.

Yesterday my parents and I went to Lorne. I'd never been before and to be honest I was expecting it to be much more picturesque than it was. The Great Ocean Road was nice, but compared to European scenery it wasn't really worth stopping to take photos. I just don't find Australian landscape inspiring. Although I love the Melbourne cityscape. Anyhow, we had a really nice brunch at a restaurant called Ba Ba Lu, a charming Spanish themed place away from the main resturant/shops strip. With the rustic tables and umbrellas I could almost pretend I was in Malaga. Almost.

My man and our sons (I am single and childless)

I like to dream that there will be a moment in my future that looks something like this photo. The chickens will just be beloved pets though...

Photo: Anna Rosa Krau

Trotters, Nova, and The Emerald Peacock. Celebrating with Lick.

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Yesterday Lick and I met up on Lygon street to see an Italian film. At cinema Nova all Monday screenings are only $6 before 4pm, and $9 afterwards. That pretty much knees all other discount cinema days in the balls!

Before the film we had lunch at a restaurant called Trotters. The food was great. The service? not so much. We had a sullen waitress, which I can accept - not all hospitality workers have to be all smiles and sunshine for me to enjoy myself... but when we went to pay the girl working the register scowled at us when we asked to split the bill as if we'd asked to pay it all in five cent coins. Considering the three seconds it took her to punch in our orders separately I'm not sure it was worth the further contribution to her frown wrinkles. Oh well, it has inspired me to not be so short-tempered with my own customers in the future.

The film we saw was called Ages of Love. It consisted of three (loosely intertwined) films about love, narrated by a teenage, arrow-wielding, cupid. Lick and I enjoyed the last short the most. It starred Robert de Niro as an American historian living in Rome who meets a younger woman - played by the stunning Monica Bellucci . I preferred this section because, unlike the other two, it didn't have an element of unfaithfulness. It seems that whenever Italian films are classified as ' Romance' there is always cheating. Just quickly thinking I can come up with three Italian films I have seen which portray infidelity: Cinema Paradiso, The Last Kiss and Remember Me. I find the cultural difference between Italian romance and American/Australian/British romance very interesting. Lick and I agreed that had the plot been the same but in English, set somewhere other than a European country, we probably wouldn't have enjoyed it. Italian films (and also French and Spanish films) don't seem to worry too much about having likeable protagonists, whereas if audiences can't root for the main characters of American films they won't bother watching them. Anyhow, I can't say I would like to sit through Ages of Love a second time, but it did make me think about different cultural appreciations and reminded me why I like to watch foreign films.

After the film we decided to celebrate our thesis marks with an afternoon drink and headed to Section 8. Sitting uncomfortably on a crate, sipping my cheap beer, I was reminded of being there five years earlier, celebrating the end of my first year uni exams. I wore a terribly uncomfortable pair of heels that night, and ended up stuffing half a roll of toilet paper and whinging all evening. I also patted the head of the bouncer and pissed him off by almost poking him in the eye and telling him he looked like Heidi Klum's man, Seal. Oh, to be nineteen again.

After our drink I wanted to check out the rooftop bar at The Emerald Peacock on a quiet day (the last time I went was Friday evening). It was lovely up there, a few groups of people relaxing in the sun, no crowds, and only a handful of business people who were game enough to start drinking on the first day of the working week. I can't wait to go back there on another sunny afternoon to try their food menu.

At Trotters: My favourite meal - any time of the day - Eggs Benedict.

 Lick got the Bella Pizza

The Emerald Peacock on a Monday afternoon. Practically our own private rooftop bar.

Dum dum dummmmmm thesis results are in

Well, thesis results are in. I don't think I've ever felt so many emotions in such a short time span. Firstly there was the numb, terrifed feeling as I waited for the webpage to load, secondly there was the moment of satisfied relief when my eyes settled on the first grade I saw 85....lastly there was the moment of delirious happiness and hysterical laughter when I realised I was looking at a different grade and my thesis mark was actually 92. I am incredibly pleased, and a bit surprised, about my result. I called Lick straight away and we screamed like children. Her thesis received the highest grade in the department of History: 94. I am not even jealous, she really deserved it. Honours was an enjoyable year for both of us, we didn't get overly stressed, we didn't pull all nighters, and we made sure to continue socialising even when times were tough. I'm certain that without that balance I wouldn't have done so well.

Today Lick and I are meeting up to see a film and have an evening drink in celebration. There are plenty of other things I have been meaning to blog about, including my first ever book club meeting, but for now I just want to brag.

Brunch at Trunk Diner with Lick and musings about other things such as chocolate tomatoes

I am currently going a little podcast crazy. I bought an ipod classic with 160GB. Since my entire itunes library only takes up 39GB I have a whole lot of room to swing a cat around in there. I am downloading several 'learn Spanish' podcasts this very second. I have realised that in order to get my (realistic) dream job, I should probably work a bit harder at becoming bilingual. Oh hi podcasts. Whether I will actually listen to an entire lesson from start to finish, when I have the power of the skip function, is waiting to be seen. At least in an actual class you are trapped into learning. I like learning, but sometimes I have to trap myself in it. It's amazingly easy to trick yourself into getting an education when its something you desire. I am talking total rubbish.

Today was a perfect food day! I met Lick at the State Library and we walked to Truck Diner which is on Exhibition Street. I'd been wanting to try brunch there for ages but as they're quite strict about brunch ending at 11.30 I'd missed out a couple of times. We were in there before 11am though, and it was rather quiet. We both had french toast with berries which was delicious, and at $10 pretty well priced.

After our second coffee we had a walk around the shops and lamented the excess of people in the CBD. Screw you, Christmas. After I had put poor Lick through the trauma of helping me find a strapless bra (functional shopping is never fun) we headed to Workshop for a snack. Since I went there with Flower I have wanted to go back during the day to try their $6 pizzas. We had the pumpkin, fetta, and pesto pizza - it was delicious. I also had an iced tea, which wasn't on the drinks menu but the bartender said she could whip it up. Homemade pizza and iced tea are winners. There were a couple of customers who came in on their own to have a drink and do some study. I love places where people feel comfortable just sitting by themselves and relaxing, it reminds me of being overseas and all the times I sat in European cafes writing frantically in my journal. **random European nostalgic interlude**

I should make myself some dinner. I have just been munching on some tomatoes I bought from the supermarket called choc cherry. They are cherry tomatoes which are streaked brown. A tiny part of me was hoping they'd be some kind of science experiment which gave cherry tomatoes a chocolate taste. Alas. They taste like good ole tomatoes, no willy wonka business.

 French Toast at Trunk Diner

Pizza at The Workshop Bar

I think I'll leave it til tomorrow to unpack, try to forget for one more night that i'm back

Ahhh. So compared to semester time I am socialising quite a bit lately, but it's not enough. I'm also working more than I did during honours, but that's not enough either. There is not enough life in my life. This is about the time I start dreaming about being culture shocked and roaming far-away places. Now I realise why I have been so content this past year - I haven't had time to get bored.

But now I have time. Lots of time. Maybe I'll just get drunk by myself at 10.30am and watch Ancient Aliens.

Photo: Fergus Padel

An evening in some Melbourne bars and beer gardens with Flower.

Friday I met up with Flower, who has recently returned from some overseas adventures, to reacquaint ourselves with Melbourne's beer gardens. We went on a bit of a beer garden hop, crawl, skip, jump.

We started with The Workshop Bar which is next to a discounted book store (yay! discounted books) on the corner of Elizabeth Street and A'Beckett Street. The entrance is understated, which I have come to expect from the most interesting bars in this city. We were there rather early, just before five, and there were plenty of people enjoying an early drink before the nine til five crowd hit. We both opted for the cheapest cocktail - which at $9 is pretty damn good for Melbourne! I don't remember what it was called, but it was very sweet....not much alcohol, perhaps. The crowd there was quite mixed, all ages and types. Travellers, hipsters, a few business people,  a sweaty student who sat behind me and rubbed his soggy back all over mine. With the exception of sweaty back dude, I really liked this place. I'd love to go there again earlier in the day for one of their cheap pizzas and to watch people from the balcony.

The next place we went to was Match Bar and Grill. From down on Swanston Street, next to the state library, the Match balcony looked very appealing. We went in about half five and the business crowd were already there celebrating the end of the work week. Flower and I both had G&Ts which were $8.50 each. A little steep, we thought. We found a place to sit and chat and decided that we both felt a bit out of place in our summery dresses and flats. Match, after 5pm at least, is clearly a popular suit hang out, not a budgeting uni-student-on-holiday place. My first impression of the bar was that it could be a nice place to have a drink in the afternoon but isn't really one of those special Melbourne places which just exude character. Might go there again.

We then went looking for The Emerald Peacock which is on Lonsdale Street, just after Swanston. Despite being packed, this was definitely my favourite for the evening. I had an $8.50 glass of Sangria, which took me back to my days in Spain. The first floor interior is dim and sexy, and just upstairs there is a stylin' balcony/rooftop area which was very crowded. We found ourselves a spot and settled in to enjoy our drinks. The crowd was mostly business slaves, but there were also a few traveller types and older European male model look-alikes. There looked to be nobody under twenty-one, which is something I am increasingly beginning to appreciate in bars. I will definitely go there again, perhaps not on a Friday evening though - way too cramped in the beer garden.

Looking for something to eat we went downstairs to E:fifty five on Elizabeth Street between Flinders and Collins. Not a beer garden, it's underground! This bar is also an internet cafe. The customers are a real mixed bag but it's definitely not popular with the business crowd. All the better for us (not that I don't appreciate a hot man in a suit). The last time I was there the place was full of stoned young men and travellers, this time there was a bunch of tradies drinking copious amounts of cider, dreadlocked men who are probably musicians or tattoo artists (way to generalise, T) and a few well-dressed young couples who looked a bit out of place. E55 has a funny smell. It's a mix of musty and sweaty. You get use to it though, and it's not enough to put me off going back there, in fact, it's part of the underground laid-back charm. The toilets are pretty horrid, but since I enjoy the tatty couches and the reasonably priced food and drink I can't really demand a fancy bathroom.

Our final stop for the night (after a short Myer drunken shoe shopping interlude) was somewhere I have been to a few times and always forget which street it is on - New Guernica. It's on Little Collins, by the way. You could walk into New Guernica on a sunny evening and suddenly forget about the bright weather outside. There is no natural light at all. It doesn't actually have an outside beer garden, but the entire place is themed somewhat like a garden. The interior of New Guernica is great, a log cabin, gazebos (I can't believe that's actually how you spell gazebos), fairy lights, and spinning wicker chairs. It's such a novelty and I love taking people there for the first time. They had a Friday evening drinks special on until 10.30pm - 2 for 1 spirits and $15 jugs of Sangria. We got both!

All and all it was a very fun evening and the company was pretty good too! I can't wait to discover/re-discover more places in my city this summer. Just have to keep putting money into my cocktail budget. I wish I could include some better photos, but my camera is a bit shit to be honest. Here are some blurry shots of New Guernica, which I suppose are accurate representations of how I felt after an entire jug of Sangria.

Mart 130.

Last Thursday I met A'strizzle at our favourite Brunch haunt, Mart 130. I have mentioned Mart before on this blog so I won't repeat myself. New things to add, perhaps, are that Mart has hilarious, friendly staff, and very attractive customers. In fact, I could hardly keep A'strizzle focused.

One of my main criteria for cafes and bars these days is that they are fun, but not pretentious. I can't stand it when hipsters act like they're doing me the biggest favour in the world by letting me order a coffee in their establishment. Movember makes it even harder to stomach. I just want to scream ' you look like a douchebag and you act like one too'. I realise Movember is for charity, but really, I'm sure half these boys just grow them for fun.

.....Okay, that was a little off track. What I was going to say is that Mart is refreshingly unpretentious despite being a very popular place.
Even their latte art is fun:

    My Photo

The Rooftop Bar and a sunny Melbourne afternoon

 Yesterday was everything a Spring day in Melbourne should be. Lovely company, sunshine, and cider at the Rooftop Bar at Curtin House. It could only have been improved by hay fever tablets which actually work. Eff you pollen, eff you.

My Photo

We talked about the day ahead and shouldn't we just run away instead? We started to believe our dreams.

Where did my travel dreams go?

I have now been back in Australia (after my *I'm moving to Europe* phase lasted only 18 months) for over a year. Something kind of strange has happened to me. It used to be that dreaming of travel and planning for travel were pretty much my only passions, the only things that could really cheer me up after a bad day and the things I looked forward to in my future.

Recently I have realised that when I try to imagine possible future travel adventures I just feel tired. I think of staying in a hostel dorm and wistfully fantasising about an eight hour sleep, I think of dragging my suitcase/backpack up never-ending flights of stairs, I think of struggling to work out the public transport timetable in an unknown language. And it all makes me feel tired. I have lost my ability for escapism. My friends tell me that is all good: it means I am settled, content.

No. It is an identity crisis. I thought I knew who I was - the girl who was always dreaming of new places, of adventure, of the rush of culture shock. But now I'm the girl who is seemingly settled into a life with no career, no partner, and no big dream. How effing boring. When did I stop panicking about not knowing what to do with my life?

This Summer I will be away from uni for at least three and a half months. Maybe during that time I will figure out what it is that is making me content. Being content with no obvious improvements to my life is really confusing me.

My Photo of Paris

And now I'm back, to let you know I can really shake 'em down

It's done. It's finished. No more thesis. My life has no meaning anymore. Jokes....kinda.
I decided on the title The Romance of Ravishment: Sexual Violence in the Arthurian Romances of Chrétien de Troyes. Now all that is left to do is wait for the results. I try not to think about it too much

The long-awaited freedom of having no 'study guilt'  hanging over me doesn't feel as wonderful as I expected. I feel a little panicked, to be honest, what do I do now? I can see a horrible possibility that I will work a lot and then sleep til midday on my days off. Working a lot is great, but not if it turns me into a lazy bed monster (not in a sexy way) on my days off. I must stop sitting in bed watching bad television shows and munching on cheese biscuits, I am sleeping in a field of crumbs.

Today will be nice. Brunch and Dinner out. I hope I don't use up all my friends' social perseverance too early on in the holidays.

I also have a growing book list which includes: (finishing) The Elegance of Hedgehog by Muriel Barberry, The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova, When Christ and His Saints Slept by Sharon Kay Penman, The Secret History by Donna Tartt, Burning Bright by Tracy Chevalier, and Bernard Cornwell's new book Death of Kings. No doubt I'll also read some cheesy young adult novels.

Okay, I better get ready for Brunch. Gosh, I love Brunch.

Photo: Anna Rosa Krau

I want to rock and roll all night, and party every day

Only twelve more days and I won't have to feel the ' you should be studying guilt' every time I get distracted. I deleted my facebook to help with distractions yet I somehow seem to find others, like staring at the wall, thinking about moving to South America, browsing bookdepository, and oh...well...blogging.

Twelve more days and then it's all about sunny Melbourne days, dancing with my friends, my (fiction) book list, and beer gardens. Roll on the 28th. I guess having the ending in sight is a little bittersweet; I've  had a fantastic Honours year....and I won't truly be able to relax until the results come out.

Off to finish to finish my take home exam on medieval women; I'm linking Heloise, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Margherita Datini.

Rantage

And I’m back, if only momentarily, to rant a bit.

I have discovered a new pet hate: students who take primary material completely out of its original context and apply it to their argument. Even worse, when they are totally aware of their sneakiness and just laugh and say ‘oh yeah, I tried to get away with that’ when called on their dirty academic behaviour.

I have to frequently defend my choice to spend a year writing on some random medieval dude, and the worth of writing a thesis at all, I do this by explaining the larger picture like this:

Dear ignorant person,
Imagine if there were no students writing theses, then there’d be no Masters students,  no PhD students, no lecturers, no History departments at University, no History teachers, and all of a sudden we’re living in that movie Idiocracy and watering plants with sports juice.

Okay, I may be overreaching here, but the point is to think of the larger picture of misrepresenting material in an area which is academically neglected. If nobody notices then that wrong could eventually become an accepted right.

 It was cute when Geoffrey of Monmouth did it….lazy undergrads, not so much.

I suck at blogging these days. I think I will take a leave of absence until I am once again inspired to rant and rave.

Peace out.

When the night always ends with a fight, i'm excited that you wind up next to me

I'm starting to realise how naughty religious people must feel. The guilt. So much guilt. It follows me everywhere, telling me I'm naughty. Everything, which is not my thesis, has become a guilty pleasure. Facebook? Should be researching! Historical fiction novel? Should be writing my chapter! Socialisation? You only deserve that if you've worked on your thesis! Blogging? You stupid little chit, get off the Internet and WRITE YOUR THESIS.

I understand that this blog is getting a little repetitive. Perhaps I should rename it ' Avoiding my thesis'. The thing is, I actually really like my topic; I just have too much time on my hands. I work better under time pressure. The semesters of uni I did the best in were the semesters in which I overloaded units.

I have been reading my old blog. My European adventures. It's so easy to forget the things that I didn't love about travel when I'm not going anywhere.

Oh, I am feeling sorry for myself today. I have a sty, a sty in ma eye. Of course, this sty has chosen the perfect time to hit - I'm going to a gig tonight and High Tea next week. Maybe I will just run with it and dress like a pirate, eye patch included. Oh, and it's rent day. Awesome.

I realise this is a borefest of a blog post. I'm just tryin' to keep it real.

I was going to post a pretty picture. But this post just does not deserve it.

Thesis thoughts

* Not knowing Latin, Ancient Greek or Old French is an effing huge academic road block. But hey, I know how to say 'I shit on god' in Spanish... so not all is lost. Argh.

* Where oh where will I find an English translation of Chretien's Philomena?

* Should I stop reading Ovid into everything?

* Forcing myself to get to uni at 8am rather than this whole 'I can study from home' thing better work.

* After google searching 'ravishment' (it's thesis related!) I have discovered there are a lot of messed up people on the interwebs.

* I miss Classics.

* In early 15th century France a cleric broke into a house intending to rape a woman; when she fought back he stabbed her. The cleric's punishment was to pay a fine of the same amount of money another man had been fined that year - for throwing a loaf a bread at another man's head. And no, the fine for bread throwing was not particuarly large. - I'm reading 'Ravishing Maidens' by Kathryn Gravdal.

* I love timelines.

***A non-thesis related thought: it sucks that there are no pubs within walking distance of my flat. I miss that about England.

Wake up kids, we've got the dreamers' disease

As I mentioned in my last post I was considering buying a double bed. At the moment I am sleeping on a fold out single bed. It sucks. So I had decided to buy a double bed and a new mattress, but then it struck me - that's quite a bit of money to spend on something that I can't just put in a suitcase and take overseas with me. I guess I'm not as ready to settle down in one place as I thought I was. Buying a bed means 'I am staying'...not necessarily forever, but for long enough to justify spending the money and lugging the stuff up the stairs. I'm really happy where I am living now; it's nice to be independent but this time have my parents close by. But....but...

I'm planning on doing a DipEd next year. So I'll definitely be here for another year after this one. Then where? South America? Back to Europe? Damn this constant unsettled feeling. I need to plan a holiday.

    Photo: Geoff Barrenger

Love was a promise made of smoke

Lately life has been a whirlwind of lunches, nights out, coffee dates, shopping sprees, and spazzy dancing; it has been fantastic and I have met some wonderful people. The socialising fun-tram can't go on forever though, I am starting to get worn out and feel as though I am slipping behind with honours. The fact that it's mid-year break doesn't really mean anything.  

I have had soul sprain the past couple of days; I believe it is because lately I have been having too much fun and fun can't last forever.

So now, even though realistically I have nothing to be upset about, I am all mopey-sad-faced and I want to stay in bed, eating cheese off the block, listening to Dashboard Confessional, and lamenting that I don't have a cat to cuddle. If you are unfamiliar with what soul sprain feels like, it's a bit like this:

   Photos:  Markus Jans, Peter Guenzel, Timothy Barnes

I housesat for my parents a couple of weekends ago and some of my fellow honours geeks came round to do immature things. I made the most delicious punch, if I do say so myself, with an entire bottle of white rum, champagne, fresh fruit and mint. We built a fort out of chairs and sheets in the lounge, sat in the fort and played articulate (a word game), and enjoyed tequila shots. Yes, we did plan in advance to act like carefree children under the influence of alcohol. I figure it may seem strange now, but imagine how much stranger it'd seem in 10 years time; I plan to get as much immaturity out of my twenties as possible. 

Our fort and my (potent) punch.

On Friday night I went to a costume party themed 'Fairytale and Fantasy'. My excellent friend 'Mountain Range' came over and we got ready together - I was the absinthe fairy and she was Cleopatra. We had a few glasses of wine before we left...then there was some Jack Daniels...and someone made me a White Russian....and my friend, the host, had mulled wine. There was a guy there taking photos. I have seen these photos on facebook. Times like these I wish I were a super hacker who could hack into fb and cut that silly drunk green fairy out of all the pictures.  

 So now that all that fun is over I have decided to man up. Starting... tomorrow I will force myself to spend four hours a day on my thesis. I would have started today but I have been super busy re-arranging my room, purchasing a new laptop, buying a ridiculous amount of groceries for one person, and will soon be snuggled up in bed watching the season final of Game of Thrones.

Also. By ordering a new laptop I have thrown away my plans to buy a double bed, sorry potential lovers. Ahem. Yeah. Okay.

She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

I have decided what I need in my life is a nice healthy crush. No destructive infatuations or a cray cray lovefests. Just a crush. Something that makes everything seem slightly more exciting even though there's no marriage fantasy. Yes. A crush. So much easier said than done.

This is what happens when Taylor Swift somehow happens to keep sneaking into my itunes. Stop it, Taylor, stop it!

    Photo: Fergus Padel

You're the first thing, and the last thing, on my mind

I have three abandoned blogs. They each represent a different time in my life and I read back on them at different times for different reasons. There's the grammatically horrifying journal of my year volunteering in England, which I read when I am feeling old and in need of some naive ranting. There's the style blog I started in third year, when I suddenly found a passion for scarves and op shops, which I read to remind myself that I thought I was pretty awesome in third year. And then there's the blog I kept whilst living in Europe, which I read when I'm wondering why the hell I came back here. I think this blog will forever exist to remind and reprimand me for the time I wasted dithering about during my honours year.

If I stay at home to study I am distracted by sleep....my bookcase...facebook...making another cup of coffee..etc. If I go to uni to study I am distracted by the possibility that my friends are there also and that they want to have a quick coffee (which turn into hour-long discussions).

Even when I actually study I am distracted. All the possibilities of history distract me. My insecurities about my topic distracts me. Looking up academic articles in JSTOR, before I read the ones I have right in front of me, distracts me.

Having internet on my damn phone distracts me.

You know what. I am going to study. Right now. After I make myself a coffee. And have a shower. And tidy up my room bit....

This weekend my honours crew are coming over to party. We're going to make a fort, drink anything that can be found and play Articulate. I will try not to bite this time.

Photo: Anna Rosa Krau

Yeah, I can get mine, and you'll get yours.

Sometimes things that were once good stop being good. The more you try to make them good again the more you taint the memory of how good they once were. So it's probably better to cut your losses before what was once good becomes....not.

That's my groundbreaking thought of the day - maybe I should change uni departments, eh? Perhaps Philosophy is my true calling.


Good. Good. Good. Good. Bad. Stop.

And I'm crazy, but you like it, loca, loca, loca.

So this just in: I haven't worked on my thesis for two weeks. I was working on my coursework during that time, and attending semi-related social events (going out with other people from Honours can be considered thesis related, right?). Today is the day. The day when I approach the stack of books I have carefully selected from the library and they will just fall open to the perfect page and inspire me. You know what else inspires me? Game of Thrones - and episode seven is just sitting there, waiting to be watched....and....and my computer is much closer to me than all those library books. Okay, that's sorted then. GoT first, then daunting stack of books.

On Sunday night I went to the birthday drinks of one of my Honours peeps. My decision to save money by having a couple of glasses of wine while I got ready backfired. I had half a bottle of wine without noticing, arrived rather ...hyped...and continued on drinking. Let's just say I made numerous moronic comments and bit some people. Yes....bit some people.

My friend is having a costume party in June. I've decided to go as the absinthe fairy -  La Fee Verte.

The honours student rap

Thesis thesis thesis, work work work
Got a place in the library where I always lurk
Narrow that topic, down down down
Gotta argue a point before you hit the town

I got bitches, I got fast cars
I know 'aries' is also called 'mars'
You want my grill and my gold chain?
Well first you gotta suffer some thesis pain

Finish that verse, drop the hook
I'll just finish reading this history book

Type that essay, type it up
I have ranted like a nut
Did you know King Arthur had a really big sword?
Oh come on, I know you're not bored!

I am such a geeky loner
What'd you say? You got a problem, Homer?
If you're oblivious to my academic jokes
Don't study history - you ain't smart enough, folks

Drop that hook, then start a new verse
- this lame rap can't get no worse

You don't smile at me that much

Bam! Here I am back from the world of Arthurian Romance and Italian Courtesans. Well, I'm really only on holiday from it...for an afternoon. During this afternoon I get to do exciting holiday things, like send important emails which have stacked up and buy groceries.

This weekend my BFFFFFFF is coming to visit. Yay.

I have decided I want to go back overseas(my old blog readers are eye rolling). Fine, okay, I have a problem. I call it Ia2B:)S = Inability to be content syndrome. First, though, I have to get a career on the go; I quite like the idea of moulding spongy young minds. Maybe I can go on a NZ holiday to try and fend off my wanderlust for far away places.

Mehhhh, okay, pretty picture that in no way represents my life in this moment:

    Photo: Bernd Westphal

La Mirada film festival

Last Thursday I went to the opening night gala of La Mirada Spanish film festival at ACMI....and oh MY a good looking boy just sat down opposite me in the library (yeah, no internet in my new diggs still).....Anyhow, back to the gala: the ticket included the opening night introductions, a film, and the after party. I'd been looking forward to the night for ages; a mature excuse to get dressed up, drink, and dance rather than 'let's get spaz and crunk, yo'....which none of my friends seem to respond to positively anymore.

The speeches were, as speeches often are, not too riveting. Although, an adorable Basque (I think he's Basque) actor made a short, but smile-inducing, comment about thinking he saw baby kangaroos climbing trees whilst drunk - he was drunk, not the kangaroos. His accent was cute. It made me miss Spain. Wow, good looking boy has excellent posture - anyhow, there were also pre-recorded introductions from Antonio Banderas and the director of the film, Gustavo Taretto, who was hilarious. The film was called Medianeras, which means side walls; it was a sweet story, set in Buenos Aires, about two ideally suited loners who keep missing each other in their search for love. Sounds cliché but it wasn't. After the film everyone was herded downstairs to the after-party. We found a spot next to a tapas table and held on to it for dear life as the food was quickly ravaged. Luckily there was no shortage of alcohol. The crowd seemed to be mainly mid-30's culture critics and beautiful gay men (who may have also been culture critics). We entertained ourselves by giving people nicknames - 'tortured boobs' wore a top so tight she had the boob version of muffin top...titty top, perhaps. She was also wearing, and stroking, something that had once been alive. It may have had a face. I did not like. There was also 'wavy locks' who Em thought looked like a dethroned prince, and later, Roger Federer. Lots of laughs. We ended the night after dancing to retro tunes. We danced like no-one was watching, well aware there were probably people watching. All in all mucha diversión!!

Sadly all my photos have me in them.

Having trouble saying how I feel, but I can dance dance dance.

I've typed about five different sentences to start this post. They all sucked. I am in a cafe with free wireless internet. After living in Europe for 18 months Melbourne's lack of free wifi frustrates me. I feel like an internet thief even though I am having a meal. Actually, I'll probably end up spending more money because of the 'laptop guilt' than if I was here with a friend. Get with the times, Australia. Free wifi makes you money.

I suppose I haven't really done anything blogworthy of late. I'm just checking in - with my blog - with myself. I'm still really enjoying being back in Melbourne. Not even the tiniest tinge of regret at leaving Europa. I want to go back, of course, but I'm happy to wait a couple of years. Or..one year.

Uni is fine. A little more intense than I was expecting, but it's pressure I am allowing myself to feel because, unlike undergrad, I suddenly care - a lot. My thesis topic has continued to change more often than an emotional retard's facebook status....but I think I finally have it....stabilized. A little bit of Classics, A little bit of Medieval, and a little bit of literature. All good.

Moving out of home. Again. Every time is different. Renting. Sharing. It's a runner-up to what I really want - my own place. Hopefully it's not too far in the future. I even have a 'future home' photo folder.

And now it is time for me to leave. It's bussinessman lunch hour - urgh!

Photo: The Selby

(From the future home folder)

We all know frogs go 'la di dah di dah'

Oh hello, blog. I think I heard you calling me? You must have known that I am once again a uni student in need of a form of procrastination.

Here I am on campus once more, allowing myself coffee breaks every 30 minutes or so and googling like a ....well, like something that googles a lot. When did 'to google' become a verb? Oh, this rapidly changing English language. Perhaps I have consumed too many caffeine beverages today. I have decided to implement a new rule : toilet breaks only for each completed paragraph of my current assessment task. So far I have  earnt quarter of a toilet break. Damn, I better stop drinking coffee.

The end.

I have somewhere to live! I have my own study cave at uni. I am enjoying zee study. I don't have any money, but that's just a minor issue, right?

Blog postage coming soon. ish. soon-ish.

Looking for a house to rent is unenjoyable.

I didn't hear what you were saying, I live on raw emotion baby.

Well, I'm back at uni. The campus is awash with enthusiastic first years who will still be in bed at midday come week five. They're just mulling around seeing who they can practise breeding with. There are so many hipsters who look like they have barely reached puberty and oranged faced girls in tracksuit pants and hoodies. There are also plenty of gorgeous new boys, but now I am old enough to be considered a mature age student - 24.

I'm actually very happy to be back on campus. I just love walking around with my large coffee and pile of library books feeling superior to the aforementioned first years. I even have my own little assigned study cave.

My Honours topic has changed more times than facebook's layout, but I'm quite happy where I am at the moment - in the Renaissance.

    Photo: Timothy Barnes

High Tea at the Hotel Windsor.

Don't panic, folks. I kinda, sorta, almost have an Honours topic. Phew.

I had forgotten that I have lots of Melbourne-ising updates to do. First up is High Tea at The Hotel Windsor. It was $59 each (we went on a weekday) and though that's rather steep for a few cakes and tea in a stuffy old hotel - it was so worth it! My only issue was that it was after the 1st of Jan and the Christmas tree was still up.

The service was fantastic (and cute, even if the dudes were fake tanned) and the atmosphere was great - most people were dressed up and my oh my there were lots of old people (makes High Tea more authentic if you're surrounded by aging wealthy women with clip on earrings). We were greeted at our table by Macaroons! Approve. We were then served champagne. Approve. Then the three tier tray of sandwiches, scones, and cakes arrived - even my approve approves.

We tried to fit it all in, we really did; we hadn't eaten all morning, we timed ourselves before starting on a new tray and took our time with the tea and coffee. Alas, we were unable to finish everything, two lonely cakes remained. Doggy bag? I was too full (and honestly feeling quite ill) to attempt smuggling the leftovers into my handbag.

I know the Windsor is more expensive than most places that serve High Tea in Melbourne, but what you're paying for is the elegant building and the tradition. Get your snob on.

You can be my alphabet and I will be your calculator

I can't think of a thesis topic. Bitch Bitch Bitch Moan. Just spent almost 30 minutes composing a 4-5 line email to my Honours supervisor. I was attemping to inform her, in a grammatically correct fashion, that her most recently acquired student has less focus than a first-year after a few tequila shots. Actually, tequila shots don't seem like such an awful idea....

I've been link-surfing many history blogs this morning. Academic blogs may be my new online obsession; they are more interesting than textbooks and I don't feel guilty reading them when I should be doing honours research. While browsing I noticed something rather amusing, they all seem to have a topic tag for 'cats'.

I've been up chasing my childhood with a pen. These are dreams old men dream.

So I have this problem. I want to study everything. Okay, maybe 'everything' is an exaggeration. How about this, I want to study everything about Europe between..oh, let's say 30th century BCE and the 14th century CE. Narrowing that down to a thesis topic is proving to be difficult.

Photo: Fergus Padel

New Gold Mountain.

Last month I finally got to visit a bar I have had my (online) eye on for a while now: New Gold Mountain. I basically did a 'Melbourne CBD laneway bar' google search and New Gold Mountain was definitely highest ranking in terms of intrigue - mine, that is. A door with no signage down a laneway; it just sounded so damn Melbourne.

NGM is right next door to its cousin? sister? mother? bar, Double Happiness, so in reality it wasn't really a mission to find - since I knew it was there. I took snobby Melbourne pride in the fact that tourists would not be stumbling in and making the bar feel tacky by taking a facebook album's worth of photos(which left me to do so undisturbed). For cute bartenders: A+! The cocktails were fantastic, but my student budget could only stretch to one. Sadly an eighteen dollar minimum for cocktails doesn't seem to shock Melburnians these days. Oh I miss the days of free-pouring Spanish bartenders.

After our first cocktail we headed up-stairs, where we were 'seated' (so effing posh, yo). There is no drinks menu upstairs, you just tell them what you want and voilá...it's created, and you can't afford to eat for a week. While we waited for our drinks we took numerous spazzy photos posing under the flowerbed ceiling (photos will explain).

Another bar visited and crossed off my ever-growing list. For me it was more of a novelty, the kind of place you take friends from out of town and nonchalantly say 'oh well yeah, I guess this place is okay' all the while gloating that they surely don't have anywhere near as cool in their lame-o town.

After our mature start (except for the spazzy photo-taking), we threw sophistication to the wind and headed to The Rochester Castle in Fitzroy. I danced 'til the lights came on at my favourite indie night: Black Night Crash.