Random
What kind of ring do you want? I’ve got a $10,000 budget.
And that's the true story of how K proposed to T.
Apparently in America there are businesses that cater for the perfect proposals and that their greatest tip is that men should never put the ring in any food or beverage – an average of five potential brides actually choke on their rings each year.
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The other night I watched the final episode of Dawson’s Creek and it made me feel in love all over again. And so now I’m awake at 3AM watching my twelve episode collection of the first season - which is by far the best. The music, the gratuitous use of long-winded and daft phrases such as 'inextricably intertwined' and Katie Holmes’ smile has got me all warm and fuzzy and swooning at the beauty of this world.
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I’m debating whether or not ‘tensed’ is really a word. Scrabble should really come with a dictionary because Macquarie's sucks.
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My whole life has been in a constant spin and stability is always as far as heaven for me. In a case of self-psychological assessment, I believe that my inability to focus on anything for more than four minutes is based on the life that I have lived – turbulent and ever-changing like Middle East politics, cellular phone fashion and the celebrities on the cover of magazines. Maybe it's this experience that has set my life’s course to be forever determined by seasonal winds and fickle climes. I’m a modern nomad.
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Easter has come and gone, and so have the chocolates, the hot-cross buns and the mammoth four-day weekend composed of what felt like three consecutive Friday’s and an unusually busy Monday, disguised as a Sunday. And to add to the fucking around with my body clock, daylight savings has kicked in (or kicked out?) and I’m sure I’m not the only one who spent that hour confused as to which clocks had already been set to the correct time. I suspect that this is also the hour where VCR’s around Australia were most abused by their owners who can’t read Mandarin and are therefore eternally set to live their lives in the ambiguity that is 12:00.
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The days and nights are getting colder as Autumn takes my hand and leads me to Winter.
Postcards - Dubbo
On a highway in the NSW country area there is a sign by the side of the road. It rests against a stripped ’65 Falcon and reads:
Chainsaw Course
This Tuesday to Friday
At the time I thought it was strange because I’d never heard of such a course before. But now, as I read and re-read that sign in my head, I’m quite sure there are stranger things that I see on a daily basis.
We’re sitting at Bakhita’s Café waiting for a designer-come-waitress to take our order. I spend a moment to take a look around and am convinced that days can still be beautiful even in unsure weather. I look over my shoulder to spot a small island with spider monkeys playing on thick rope – they’re vying for the attention of those with children and yummy lunch specials. As I reach the bittersweet end of my flat white I find a peacock by my side inspecting my now-finished coffee. And all I could do was reciprocate its intrigued and confused look and eventually smile.
It’s raining now, and I’m glad that we’d decided to rent a car; that it wasn’t mine being stained with mud and smeared clean with rainwater dripping from windows left slightly open. On the count of three we jump out of the car with our heads inclined to bow down, as if it would stop the rain and keep us dry. Our Haviana’s leave slight impressions on the wet planks and you tell me to keep my eye out for orange signs. And there they were. The rain continued to fall on the tin shelter and you continued to take photos. And in this saturated moment I am filled with so much happiness to see you so happy. Work with a tangible end seems so fulfilling.
The pass through the Blue Mountains is winding and scenic, and the car isn’t obliging to my inner rally-car driver. The sun is setting to our left and the clouds are aligned in such a way that it looks like they are working in unison and are really acting as rays. I turn to you to point out its beauty and realize that this is the first time you didn’t think that my appreciation for a sunset was corny.
On a highway in the NSW country area there is a sign by the side of the road. It rests against a stripped ’65 Falcon and reads:
Chainsaw Course
This Tuesday to Friday
At the time I thought it was strange because I’d never heard of such a course before. But now, as I read and re-read that sign in my head, I’m quite sure there are stranger things that I see on a daily basis.
We’re sitting at Bakhita’s Café waiting for a designer-come-waitress to take our order. I spend a moment to take a look around and am convinced that days can still be beautiful even in unsure weather. I look over my shoulder to spot a small island with spider monkeys playing on thick rope – they’re vying for the attention of those with children and yummy lunch specials. As I reach the bittersweet end of my flat white I find a peacock by my side inspecting my now-finished coffee. And all I could do was reciprocate its intrigued and confused look and eventually smile.
It’s raining now, and I’m glad that we’d decided to rent a car; that it wasn’t mine being stained with mud and smeared clean with rainwater dripping from windows left slightly open. On the count of three we jump out of the car with our heads inclined to bow down, as if it would stop the rain and keep us dry. Our Haviana’s leave slight impressions on the wet planks and you tell me to keep my eye out for orange signs. And there they were. The rain continued to fall on the tin shelter and you continued to take photos. And in this saturated moment I am filled with so much happiness to see you so happy. Work with a tangible end seems so fulfilling.
The pass through the Blue Mountains is winding and scenic, and the car isn’t obliging to my inner rally-car driver. The sun is setting to our left and the clouds are aligned in such a way that it looks like they are working in unison and are really acting as rays. I turn to you to point out its beauty and realize that this is the first time you didn’t think that my appreciation for a sunset was corny.
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