Tag Archives: daydream

Do These Things. Now.

20 Apr

Certain people (specifically Megan, Nathanator and Sarah) have inspired me today. I have been feeling so grey lately, and still am to an extent, but at least I am getting excited about a time (very soon) when I can live my life as I want and decorate it as I like, and be my manic pixie dream girl self again. So here is my list for myself, but I can share! I command anybody out there reading this to get fired up, slap on a smile, cultivate a sense of perpetual wonderment and curiosity, and DO THESE THINGS. Or at least think about it:

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Wear pretty dresses, even to the supermarket. Knit a pair of mittens. Ride a bike and let go of the handlebars. Put your music in autobiographical order. Pat a cat. Bake a cake. Draw a comic featuring you and your best friends as superheroes with tragically hilarious flaws (i.e. can become invisible, except for their face). Ask your grandparents about ‘the old days’. Cut up your old clothes and make them into something new and fabulous.

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Twirl. Twirl really fast while looking up at the sky, then try to run in a straight line. Do this on soft grass, for when you inevitably fall over, giggling like a maniac. Do housework to 90’s pop music, adding in spontaneous dance moves. Go out for cocktails in very high heels and pretend you’re on Sex and the City. Forget about audience, structure, tone and all that junk; just write a story. Paint.

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Watch TV. It won’t kill you unless you let it. Quit your job. Start a new one. Go running until your ribs ache but your mind sparkles with clarity and openness. Catch a train until you are so far out of the city that you will see bunnies in the fields if you are quiet enough. Come back into the city and wander through nameless alleyways; meet the musicians that play on street corners under moonlight. Don’t keep promising to yourself to keep a visual diary – actually do it. Buy pretty shoes, then clean out your entire wardrobe until it is pretty enough to properly ‘welcome’ the new shoes.

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Lay on a lawn with somebody you adore and smile as much as you want. Ask questions. Eat the cake that you baked a couple of paragraphs ago. Watch Jurassic Park – you know you want to. Stop thinking of underwear as something that is allowed to be plain and boring. Stay in bed on a cold dreary afternoon. Stay up all night if there are better things to do than sleep. Stop listening to stupid people. Paint every fingernail a different colour. Buy a last-minute air ticket and take your camera.

If there are no stars in the sky, make your own.

xx Bunny

..just keep swimming

11 Apr

Holidays are over. Deathville deluxe. I keep reminding myself that there is only two months of classes before I have almost two months of holidays.. as much as I adore university, it is a hell of a lot of work. Once you have finished all the required reading and writing, there is a ¬†small mountain to get through; thinking, understanding, organizing, corresponding, double-checking, stressing, researching and trying to be original. It doesn’t exactly leave a lot of mental space or even time for anything else.

I am aching to do some non-academic writing again. I want to practice piano everyday and actually get good again. I really wish I had my easel and paints here with me. It would be nice to live in a place where singing wasn’t verboten.

Perhaps I’m miserable because it is finally starting to get cold here. I don’t function well in winter weather. However, winter fashion can be fun. CAN BE are the important words. I hate nothing more than the long shapeless knits in various shades of depressing charcoal, putrid plum and melancholic mulberry – they seem to saturate stores at this time. Australian Target is a constant perpetrator. Winter clothes can be awesome, but it is always hard to find what I want.. in this country, especially. So to cheer myself up about impending days of bone-chilling wind, constant drizzle and grey skies, I used polyvore to daydream about my ideal winter wardrobe:

Winter, I wish.

Sigh.

xx Bunny

There’s no place like home.. except overseas

29 Mar

So, Dad told me that daylight saving time ends today.
It does not.
Thanks Dad.

The dog and cat I am looking after while he is away seemed confused too – waking me up at 6:30am to be fed. RUDE.

So, yes – wishing that I could fast forward these next few weeks; being here in my Dad’s house and essentially under his command (despite him being overseas) is making me realize how much I like to do things my way, how much I miss my own space, my own things, even just the ability to feel comfortable in my own space. All of my books, films, music, everything.. it’s all in boxes in my Mum’s garage right now. Probably getting eaten by mice and bugs. Gah.

I like eating toast over the sink because I am too lazy (some would say smart) to have to wash a plate afterwards. I love the juxtaposition of an oriental tea set and a life-size facehugger from Alien as an interior decorating choice. I like drinking gin all night and then making videos of Nath dancing to theme songs from 70s Italian B-grade dinosaur vs hunter flicks. I love 3am trips to Kmart because I simply need to watch Independence Day or Dante’s Peak or Twister, right now.

Mope, mope, mope.

Catty is off to Europe in.. gee, a few months. I am v. jealous x 100. So I am planning an imaginary trip for me. Imaginary in that it probably won’t happen, but planning it because it might. I would love to go to Taiwan for a few weeks, maybe take Nath and show him where I grew up, visit people I haven’t seen in a million years. I’d love it – roaming around Taipei, never sleeping, doing all the things I wanted to do when I was little but didn’t, going down to Taichung, visiting Sun Moon Lake and Taroko Gorge, etc. I stalked my old house on Google maps and found that it is most probably uninhabited now – the swimming pool is empty and full of dust, the garden is totally unkempt. It’s sad; I would honestly buy it if I could.

xx

Omgz, or something

26 Mar

Today, I woke up feeling totally refreshed. I’ve had ridiculous stress acne along my jaw lately for the first time in my life, but this morning it finally seemed to have cleared up. It was warm but overcast, slightly humid and a bit windy; perfection.

So I got up from my huge bed piled high in Egyptian cotton sheets and hot men, pulled on my vintage silk robe and wandered out to my provincial kitchen, full of totally necessary but aesthetically concealed modern gadgets. Awwww… Mummy had stopped by and made blueberry pancakes! Blood orange juice, pour moi? Posie and Xiao-Gui were frolicking outside the French doors, amongst the heirloom roses in my Dan Bifano-designed garden – yes, that’s right, I bought Oprah’s Montecito teahouse. Actually it was more of a gift.. you know, in honour of my incredible contribution to literature, art, music and human rights. And awesomeness, obviously.

The rest of the day was spent reading books specifically written with my tastes in mind, listening to my favourite bands perform live for me in my acoustically perfect living room, checking out the Shih Lin Night Market in Taipei, a gigantic dinner party with people I adore, the perfect gift of a magical ‘delete’ button to banish all noise and rubbish from my life, and finally.. fairy bread.

Okay, so maybe that’s all lies. Ignore me… DISTRACTION – aren’t these guys adorable? The one on the right looks like a fluffy bowling pin:

I think they win at life today. I met two gorgeous silky ferrets going for a walk down Bourke Street yesterday though, so they get the gold medal for yesterday.

Okay, so everything sucked balls today. Crusty, hairy ones with some sort of horrible as-yet unclassified STD and an unsettlingly floral fragrance. No cure, but the treatment involves sharing the mundane junk that amused me today between all the actual junk:

  • Dina Goldstein’s Fallen Princesses – photographs of Disney princesses at odds with reality. Snow White with crying babies on her hips, Cinderella drinking alone in a seedy bar, Pocahontas watching TV in the dark surrounded by a million cats.
  • China’s aerospace program has set a prerequisite for any prospective female astronauts; they must be married and a mother. Because you know, any other type of woman really isn’t human – it’s probably this assumption, even more than the discrimination, that makes me angry. But… whole ‘nother post. Or ten.
  • David Lee Roth’s undeniably unique vocal stylings.
  • And I have decided, after much careful consideration and reading a thousand and one reviews – I want this one.

Miz Opheeelia in da house, doggerz!!!!!!!!!1eleven

Or something. xx