Someone once described me as “sparkly” – I’m not feeling it so much right now. Instead, I’m feeling like my neck has been inflated with a bicycle pump, my sinuses have been injected with cement, my throat has participated in a razor blade swallowing experiment, my whole body has run a marathon instead of sleeping and my hands and feet have enormous weights attached to them. Nathan decided sleeping on the couch was a better bet than trying to sleep next to me, hacking and coughing all night.
Actually, I wouldn’t mind being stuck in bed all day if I had records, crayons and chipmunks saying ‘hello’.
There was an ad on TV last night that made me a bit sad – the tagline was “You are what you do”. It’s completely true, and a bit harrowing for someone who is currently doing nothing, therefore is nothing. So even though my body is screaming out for me to go back to bed, I’m going to do something. Or at least plan what I’m going to do. Baby steps though.
- Clean up the ‘sick-person-mess’ that magically appears when I’m sick. Empty panadol boxes, empty drink bottles, dirty teacups, piles of blankets and pillows.
- Make spaghetti. Eat real food.
- Wash my hair, put on some makeup and clothes. Not pajamas.
- We are hopefully going to look at a gorgeous little dog called Rupert on Saturday!
- I’m hoping we can fit in some time to plant some flowers in the garden for spring. I love peonies, and apparently they are not too hard to grow.
- I’m also hoping that I can set up my room too – it will be so nice to be able to paint, sew and make things again.
Super Kawaii Mama is writing a fantastic series of posts on how to be glamourous for every occassion, even when it’s freezing or you are cleaning the house. Very inspiring right now – I’m not sparkly right now, but I’m going to put on some blush and hopefully it will get the ball rolling.
About 7 weeks ago, I got the flu – fairly badly. I wish I could say that I made a full recovery and bounced back to my normal self, but that is not the case. Ever since, I have seen a few days here and there of feeling alright before crashing again.
After an okay Tuesday and Wednesday, I was feeling fairly confident about finally feeling better, but no such luck. I woke up this morning with absolutely no voice whatsoever and finally went to the doctor. Two hypotheses: a) I have just had very bad luck and managed to catch a string of viruses after being weakened by the original incidence of flu, leading to current laryngitis accompanied by fever, or b) I have recurring glandular fever. Squeak.
Blood test on Monday to find out, but either way, the treatment is the same. Good: staying in bed and eating soup, ice cream and jelly all day. Bad: feeling sick, not being able to do things and spending a lot of time laying in bed.
… is burning a chunk of your hair with a curling iron 5 minutes before having to run out the door, leaving you with this choice: a) look lovely with shiny, styled hair and one fried piece, or b) hack off the damage with a pair of blunt scissors and spend the night being awkward so that nobody ever sees the back of your head.
I went with second option.
I could give you a blow-by-blow account of the party, but that would be boring, so here is something infinitely more fun:
I drank twenty beers and got in a fight. Nath unveiled a teleportation device he’d been working on for ten years and was awarded prizes and given giant cheques by girls dressed up like Texan beauty queens. The engaged couple got kidnapped by pirates. Our baby niece suddenly revealed that not only can she talk (despite being less than 6 months old), she actually has ten boyfriends and is head of an illegal car theft operation. And there were monkeys.
xx Bunny Florentine
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:
So I have had a week off school, ostensibly to give me a chance to catch up on things and have a bit of extra time to perfect the first wave of assignments. It is almost Thursday and neither of those things have happened yet.
Today I peeled myself out of my sickbed, slapped on some mascara and went for a mini-trek at about 4pm – a mission entitled “I haven’t eaten anything today and now after almost passing out in the shower I have realized my blood sugar levels are kind of screwed up and now affecting my ability to actually execute a plan to feed myself”. Several exciting things happened. I was hit on by a woman twice my age on the tram, it rained, and I had the chance to play a very rare and exciting game on the corner of Bourke and Elizabeth Streets – are they a) drunk, b) crazy, or c) engaging in some sort of impromptu French existentialist absurdist street performance?
Nath chose drunk. I’m still not sure. If it was performance, does this confusion mean they were supremely good at it? Or were they supremely bad? – the lasting impression has nothing to do with what they were actually speaking about or any meaning they might have been trying to convey.. unless it was a piece called “the fine line between drunk, crazy and absurdism”. Shrug.
We also went to Ant’s for some dragon buns. 猪肉包子 (feeling like I should at least try to keep up my Chinese skills). I adore theirs – they are small and not sweet, but complex with overtones of ginger and star anise. They make me happy…
Seems Stuart’s Nightclub is still in full swing – I came home, hacking and coughing but clutching butter menthols (sweet mercy), to discover some random girl doing the dishes. Hair extensions, heels and rubber gloves. I thought they were all leaving, but then they came back with fifty thousand bags of McDonalds and more people. Once again – SHRUG. I have relinquished all responsibility here….
UPDATE: Stuart’s friends left the front door wide open, the cat has escaped and run off into the night. Stuart is off his head, decided that someone must be in the house and ran around brandishing a sword to “fuck them up”. HELP.
Somebody knocked on the front door for the sixth or seventh time today, and I totally ignored it. I should make a sign: “This is not Stuart’s personal nightclub.” There are all these randoms coming in and out of the house I am supposed to be looking after, and I apparently have no say. It’s frustrating too because I am supposed to be responsible in all this, as the designated housesitter. Woe. I would have left already if I thought the animals would get looked after at all if I weren’t here.
Nath just played a particularly cruel joke on me. The house phone rang, I answered, and didn’t expect him to be calling me on that number nor did I recognize his voice (my head is so stuffed up, everything sounds as though I’m underwater). This was our conversation –
N: … hi.
B: Oh, sorry, this is L’s partner C’s daughter Bunny, who is housesitting while they are in Europe. Who is this?
N: I’m one of C’s friends, from university. Would you like to buy a puppy?
B: Um, what?
N: Well, actually, you can have it. I’m going overseas.
B: Sorry, why are you calling? Who is this?
N: I’m friends with your Dad and I was just calling around to see if anybody wanted my puppy.
B:…. how old is it? What breed? How long do you have to go overseas for?
N: She’s about 9 months old, pomeranian. I’m leaving permanently.
B: (just about dies of happiness) Oh oh oh! I am super interested! Um, I actually have a maltese-pomeranian who needs a playmate! Does she have a name already?
N: Ummm… yeah. Po…. Possum.
B: Possum? Um, okay.
N: Well, you better call Nathan and ask him then.
B: (has one of those “the call is coming from inside the house” moments)…. how do you know his name?
N: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA etc
Then in my imagination, I punched him in the face and broke his nose. In reality, I burst into tears.
To be fair, he was extremely apologetic. But no forgiveness tonight. If he magically found a way to teleport here with chicken noodle soup, panadol, Posie and this imaginary puppy, I might change my mind.
I have the flu. Kill. Me. Please.
It feels like my sinuses have been pumped full of cement. Heavy head, swollen neck, aching jaw, raging fever, and total feeling of malaise so bad that I wish I could just have my entire body amputated.. from itself.
Therefore, I am going to share with you some of the things that have amused me while I’m in Deathville (aka bed, swimming in a sea of tissues):
- Francis Lam at Salon gives some tasty torture tips for making marshmallow peeps brŭlée – the comments are too funny.
- I wish someone would buy me all the Penguin clothbound hardback classics, they are so beautiful:
- Knitting a scarf, eating nutella and avoiding my Hamlet essay, due next week.
- And finally, this is the trailer for the documentary film Nath, Aaron and I went to see on Friday:
xx Bunny Florentine