Tag Archives: lamentation

The Price of Curls

24 May

… 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

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Kitchen Disaster #2

29 Apr

I’m pretty hungry. Pasta seemed like an easy, quick, painless cure. Upon looking in the fridge, I figured I would make spaghetti with a cheesy tomato and spinach sauce.

That would have been really nice, but I guess I have to settle for a bowl of spaghetti floating in cheese, tomato and spinach soup.. that actually manages to taste like stale sweat.

xx B

Catastrophe Magnet

23 Apr

What a trash
To annihilate each decade

–  from ‘Lady Lazarus’ by Sylvia Plath

At midnight, in the park near Croxton station, while it was raining and huge bats were gliding above our heads and screeching in the trees, Audrey and I hung out and talked for hours the way silly teenage girls do – mixing up everything into a sort of mutual confessional with a hope for some sort of validation or understanding. Boys, travels, school, friendships, regrets, love, hate, family, skeletons in the proverbial closet, people who untag themselves from photos on facebook out of spite, how not being racist in conversation can make you appear even more racially preoccupied than someone who is overtly racist, grandmas, mean teachers, people with no personality, and the fact that in Buenos Aires, you can have ice cream delivered.

It was nice. I think we both needed it tonight.

But after everything, I was left with a question that totally destroyed any attempt at sleep. The concept of ‘sorting things out’… what if there are some people who never get things sorted out? As much as they long for a calm, comfortable, contented feeling of “everything is okay”, will some people just never get it?

A lot of not so great things have happened recently. A lot of them are still happening. However, things were looking up. Dad called from London and said he and Linda would be back in Melbourne on Saturday afternoon. Which means that Nath can come get me and all my stuff, and I can move back home. Which means things even basic sources of happiness like being able to sleep at night (Stuart and his quasi-girlfriend are practically nocturnal and have no understanding of ‘inside voices’ or the idea of not yelling at each other right outside someone’s bedroom door at 4am), eat properly (rather than living on iced tea, Le Snaks and nutella) and actually have a desk to study on. Getting to see my boyfriend and my puppy are perks too, definitely!

So, in that regard, two big things that have made me a bit miserable are finally being alleviated. I’m not quite sure then why the universe has decided to get me back for daring to feel optimistic about things.

  1. Nathan has been enlisted to stage manage an amateur musical, which is a relatively huge commitment. Which means that all this finally-actually-getting-to-see-each-other time I had been looking forward to is suddenly pushed forward a few weeks. He’s already a major grouch at the best of times (unless he’s on holidays), but the sudden extra lack of Nath-time and sleep is likely to make him pretty unpleasant for the hour or so I might get to see him on any given day. Minor annoyance/frustration/disappointment in the scheme of things, but it just stings a bit after being apart for long to realize that what we have looked forward to is still weeks away.
  2. But this one is the worst, and it’s not even happening to me. Something is majorly wrong with my Mum’s back. I have no idea what it is; neither does she yet, but it’s bad. The plan (my plan, rather) so far involves me going to her house, looking after her and my little brother and sister (who are actually not so little, but neither can cook, therefore are nutritionally helpless) so she can stop with the martyrdom, accept help and admit that she needs to rest and heal.

Once again it is proved – I am the catastrophe magnet. It’s probably not particularly rational to hold a hope that things will get ‘sorted’ or everything will one day feel alright; maybe my tolerance for disaster will just rise. Maybe. Right now, I just hope that all goes to plan for Dad and Linda and they arrive home on Saturday. I hope that production week runs smoothly enough so that Nathan gets out theatre at a halfway decent time. And I really, really hope that my Mum will be okay..

xx Bunny

PS: I spotted a pair of rainbow lorikeets eating fruit from a tree down the street today – lovely, unexpected and an incredibly welcome sight amongst all the doom and gloom going on.

PPS: Yes, it is 7am. Yes, I did stay up all night fretting and feeling miserable and powerless. Blergh. But I promise, next post, I will snap out of this malaise. Even though there are frustratingly time-consuming commitments and horribly painful back injuries, there are also rainbow lorikeets and fairy bread in the world..

Cement Machine

5 Apr

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

Puppytron

28 Mar

The first night, when she was 8 weeks old. Love you embarrassingly much, my Posie-puff.

xx

Fairy Bread + Guinea Pigs

27 Mar

via 0xo

Damn. You know in films like The Butterfly Effect there is one crucial thing that could have changed everything? I was going to make fairy bread for lunch on Friday, but events changed and I ended up deciding that walking five minutes to the supermarket for sprinkles and bread was just TOO HARD. So no fairy bread.

I seriously think it could have made all the difference.

After work on Saturday, I fainted.
Weep weep.
Probably exhaustion, total and utter depression, stress, not eating or sleeping or receiving the recommended daily dose of cuddles from a puppy. I wish I could marry Posie sometimes.. but pretty sure Nath would fight me for her.
Pretty sure if it were a fist fight, I’d win.

xx

The Mean Reds

23 Mar

I’m like cat here, a no-name slob. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don’t even belong to each other.

So, here I am again. A different postcode though. And it appears that I have grown a thorny shell at some point between 2006-2007 and now. Maybe it’s automatic; subconscious self preservation perhaps?

I miss my puppy like crazy; sometimes it feels that I could pretend everything was okay if she was here. There is a dog here but we are simply not on the same wavelength. He knocks people over, slobbers like he has rabies and takes great delight in rifling through the garbage. My darling puppy is dainty; she springs through the overgrown backyard like a little lamb, climbs into your lap and pins your shoulders to cover your face with kisses, and has a tremendous sense of injustice when we dare to laugh at all the silly little things she does. She even knows all the individual names of her toys and brings the specific one you ask for..

She is so sad when I leave her, and I hate that it is not just a few days or weeks for her – it is a significant portion of her life. If she lives for 12 years, that is 4383 (ish) days which I could possibly spend with her. Yet here I am, a million miles away from her, in the midst of a 13 week semester that is such a huge chunk of her short life. She is going to be mad-spoiled when I get back to her. Oh – also she turns 1 on May 16th. We’re having a birthday party for her – invites via facebook, if I love you enough.

No, it’s not just puppy love or lack thereof – a lot is going on. I feel so silly. A lower IQ and less style, I’d be practically emo. As much as I need an outlet right now, I don’t want this blog to turn this into a Debbie Downer skit. There are wonderful, amazing things in the world, even if they are beyond my line of sight right now – when I am reunited with them… words, words, words!

In the meantime, here are the best things I can think of right now:

  • the ski boots my friend’s housemate found on the side of the road – a size too big maybe and actually for men, but I’m overjoyed nonetheless
  • Bic Runga’s cover of And No More Shall We Part (originally by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds) performed with the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra
  • blueberries in general
  • Keanu Reeves in Bram Stoker’s Dracula – he makes it a comedy (more than Sadie Frost and the special effects)
  • seeing Lady Gaga soon – I am embarrassed over how excited I am
  • and the best thing… the knowledge that “the mean reds” I seem to share with Holly Golightly (or “the depths of despair” as Anne Shirley would put it) will eventually pass. Or at least fade.

Next time with words, words, words,

Ophelia the Obnoxious  xx