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Friday, October 31
[Ringu]posted by peter at 16:25 .......Not that I want to be a cheeky whore of the web rings, but I've just joined Adelaide Blogs, despite living in Melbourne for the last 7 months (and nominally attaching myself to this city's web ring; against my best intentions I never made it to a meetup) and being on the verge of a move to Tokyo.
Is this all OK? I don't want to tread the boundary of online decency.
It sounds lame, but one way or another, both Adelaide and Melbourne are home to me. Oh, the duality of man!
At this point I am not going to launch into a dissertation about physical, emotional, spiritual and ancestral homes. Understand that it pains me to hold back.
Well done to the folks at Adelaide Blogs for promoting the SA online community! :)
It has been a fun day with Selena so far, weather aside, and the evening is yet young!
[Early, raining]posted by peter at 05:05 .......Selena's in the air as we speak, and I'll be meeting her in the city soon. How excellent!
I like to have an excuse to get up at a decent hour, because I've been borderline narcoleptic over the last few weeks. Seriously, you'd think I'd been bewitched by a soporific spell. (Late nights don't exactly help either.) I will maintain to my dying day that I never need more than 7 hrs' sleep per night, but lately that little idea has gone out the window.
Yesterday was Dan's birthday, so a number of us celebrated with the dinner and cocktail thing. The restaurant was new and was a little too cool for school I fear... my miniature calzones stuffed with pure cheese – three varieties, no less – were tasty but very much on the meagre side. Not exactly haute cuisine, but some marks for trying.
Then we went to a cocktail bar in Richmond, which once again revealed my astonishing lack of alcoholic tolerance. A Manhattan and a Russian Mule and I'm anyone's... how embarrassing. (NB. I am actually exaggerating here.) Of course after that meal, the whole 'empty stomach' thing came into play as well. All very fun indeed.
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[Top o' tha mornin']posted by peter at 07:42 .......This morning the guy at the supermarket examined my credit card, looked at me and said (with tone): "I've had Peters all morning."
What made him think it was OK to say that?
I've now met many of the people who will be starting work at the same time as me, although not necessarily in the same place. We'll be on the same flight too. Whilst I didn't instantly 'click' with anybody, I can certainly get along with everyone, which should make the airborne hours a little more bearable. And I've met one other strict vegetarian, who will hopefully be up for restaurant exploration.
I don't know what's going on with Java on my computer. I installed W2k Service Pack 4 and it seemed to completely remove any trace of the virtual machine. So I downloaded and reinstalled, which worked with Mozilla for a time. And now my computer seems to have chewed and swallowed the functionality once more, which is inconvenient given my current urge to survey the wondrous landscape of my credit card debt. I have a computer science degree, but do you think I know what’s going on? I wonder if this is something to do with the Sun/Microsoft mutual hatred and litigious nonsense. (Ooh, let’s just add another link in the chain of de-standardisation in the computing industry…) I hate my computer. I’d switch to the Mac platform but it’s too hard to find pirate software.
My final achievement for the morning (apart from two coffees on Toorak Rd with Jess) was seemingly fixing my ‘squeaky shoe’ problem.
I took to them with a kitchen knife.
These particular shoes have sat beneath the couch for ages, because having a squeaky step is extremely inappropriate. Hopefully my initial triumph (I wore them soundlessly to the supermarket) won't be too short lived.
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[Blend with the crowd]posted by peter at 14:01 .......Well I've only bought a single tie, but I fear I may have just developed an obsession with corporate attire.
Which is something I should have taken into account when I did my budgeting. Looks like it will be ramen and rice balls for me during my first couple of months in Japan. As long as my clothes are good I can live on air alone.
This new hobby is no thanks to Myer or David Jones, with their help yourself approach to customer service. I like to tell myself that I'm far too youthfully urbane for those stores. Meanwhile, Mrs Delightful at a local shop in Prahran was more than happy to discuss the ins and outs of assembling a corporate wardrobe. Just the fact that she was friendly made me want to spend money at her shop. Once again, the small business wins out over the conglomerate.
Erk, I mustn't dilly-dally now, because I have to don my new tie (which will doubtless take me the better part of an hour) and rush back into the city.
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[Ongoing]posted by peter at 19:39 .......When I disembarked from the tram this evening, a woman yelled out to me "Darling, I have nothing to say to you. Nothing at all."
"Darling", she continued, "you're not talkin' to me, and I'm not talkin' to you. Off you go then."
Why do I have these experiences?
Kill Bill vol 1 was great, by the way.
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[::::...::...]posted by peter at 22:51 .......My mind is racing tonight, and I'm not really sure why. As before, I'm thinking of what might, of what has – but never what is.
Up surfaced a memory of the vacant block behind my grandparents' house. A gate of corrugated iron would creak open to reveal a chicken pen and a path to the brick incinerator. Fruit trees and fragrant lilac, bare earth where the sunflowers would magically appear. A strange plant with feathery flowers and the razor sharp leaves my grandmother warned would slice my skin.
And then I imagine my life in Tokyo, half a world away. Buildings and earthquakes and lights like another galaxy. 26 million people to hide among.
That image haunts again: the street grid, from above, at night, low clouds shimmering and luminous. Beneath the wing of a jet plane, a city looks like a space station.
Right now, at this moment of the world. Composed of plans, ideas, recollections. A passing car might soothe me to sleep, but there's little rest on the freeway. It must be nice to recognise things as they are, when they are. That way there's less running, less doubling back.
As I said, my mind is racing tonight, and I'm not really sure why.
[Channel 10, Channel 9]posted by peter at 19:44 .......I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I've been following the Australian Idol competition, at least in its latter stages. And as such, it pains me to admit that I've been getting a bit emotionally involved in the 'eviction' episodes.
Specifically, I just cannot believe that Guy and Paulini received the fewest votes this week, and that Paulini subsequently got voted out. I don't actually like the style of music that is being promoted by this competition, and could go on about how it lacks depth and resonance, but on a scale of pure entertainment and talent, I'd say that these two are by far the best. I used to regularly see Guy sing at a church I was attending several years ago (before deciding that the worship style just wasn't for me), and can testify first hand that he is an extremely gifted performer.
And Paulini is just gorgeous. I'm sad to see her go.
It really irritates me that Shannon is doing so well in the competition, because whilst he does possess considerable talent, I suspect the main reason for his popularity is that he perfectly fits the Aussie mould that framed the winners of the first two Big Brother series. That is, the blokey lovable larrikin kind of thing... the married with kids version. And I really don't dig the rural connection, but that's rooted in a horrible personal prejudice.
I do like Cosima, but wish she'd go more for the Amelie look rather than the Canadian diva thing... we've already got Delta Goodrem, and the world doesn't need another incarnation of Celine Dion.
Anyway, I'm also a bit embarrassed to look back and realise how much I've written on this subject. I think I'm getting too impassioned.
Well, back to Monday night TV. I've been looking forward to it all day and am about half way through my viewing schedule. I've still got the rest of Survivor and then Six Feet Under to go.
* oh my gosh, they are pureeing various sea creatures on Survivor and making the contestants drink the mixture. I think I'm gonna be sick. *
[Out of the city]posted by peter at 08:59 .......
Amidst Friday night’s festivities, the bitches and I decided to set off on a little family holiday.
Sure enough, the next day we hit the road and Wilson’s Promontory was where we ended up. Here is an account of the sojourn.
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[The subway]posted by peter at 10:58 .......I'm making a quasi-concerted effort to get into the Japanese spirit, so last night we went to a late screening of Japanese Story, which now comes recommended from me. The cinematography is especially beautiful, and the story is very moving.
I've also ordered three Banana Yoshimoto novels at the library, which I need to pick up later today. I figure I might as well stick to an author I know and enjoy; her books have always elicited an amazing feel for urban Japan. (It will be interesting to discover whether my preconceptions are entirely wrong.)
And what better way to make a trip seem utterly real than by taking a visa application to the Japanese consulate? That was this morning's task.
I still haven't gotten into the corporate wardrobe thing. And it's not getting into me either. Kate says I looked fine, but it took me so long to get ready, despite the fact that I didn't have to choose what to wear or how to wear it. But you just can't map streetwear notions to business attire. You can't spice it up with badges or anything. And I was insecure about the shirt I had – it was so late nineties with its pinstripe and double pocket. Is it still OK to wear white business shirts? I'm not so enthusiastic about white, because it tends to reveal a tad too much of what lies beneath. But I have two white shirts so I need to know whether it's OK.
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[Flake]posted by peter at 16:56 .......Yuck, evidently the last lot of hair dye has reacted with my scalp. I know this because I have hitherto unseen chunks of dead skin flaking off… broad, flat pieces that span filaments and contrast strikingly with the general public image that I am trying to project. If I’ve got psoriasis I’m gonna scream.
Any remedial suggestions are welcome.
I’ve also realised that I’m like a sponge for suburban discontent. Pass me the inner city, please. I blame my rural upbringing.
Anyway, here’s an exhaustive summary of my Adelaide trip.
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[Flight time]posted by peter at 23:13 .......Today's stupidity award goes to the man who nonchalantly turned on his mobile phone while the aircraft was refuelling, ie. immediately after the loudspeaker forbade the operation of electronic equipment.
I realise that the chance of catastrophic explosion is minimal, but it's not the point.
I'm back in Melbourne now. Nobody could meet me at the airport so I had to use a combination of private and public transport and then walk a significant distance with heavy luggage because I'm too cheap to take a taxi. The thing I'm most looking forward to about my new job is having money again. Proper bona fide disposable income. Cash that can be spent freely and thoughtlessly. On anything.
The flip side to all this fiscal fortune (the dollar is unusually high right now... should I buy some yen immediately??) is that I won't see my unspeakably glorious friends and family for quite a long time. It wasn't fun saying goodbye.
Adelaide was its usual indefinable self. Incredibly fun and more than a little strange. I'm a bit bored of people calling it boring because I think you have to be boring to be bored there. Maybe the things it has to offer aren't immediately obvious... you have to dig beneath the surface. It helps to know people there; that way you have access to the whole 'word of mouth' phenomenon.
In keeping with the nature of my last few unillustrative posts, I’m going to delay any further discussion of my trip… until I'm less tired. My brain has a tendency to distort things when I'm this tired.
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[Running for my health]posted by peter at 17:11 .......Still alive, been down to the coast. Would elaborate but I've got people waiting for me in a pub on Rundle St. Didn't even intend to be online today, but unfortunately I forgot my flight time. I'll be back in Melbourne tomorrow night, despite wanting to stay here longer. Bye XX
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[More brief]posted by peter at 11:01 .......What I failed to mention last post was that at the time I happened to be at Pippa's house of earthly and otherworldly delights, baking fabulous biscuits with her and Josh.
Anyway, turns out the seminar I needed to attend in Melbourne on the 23rd (and hence booked a flight for the 22nd) is actually on the 29th. Like, thanks for telling me when I rang. So now I'm sussing out possible alternative flights later in the week. The change will attract a fee, but theoretically it will be worth it. I'm still having a super time... will post a big entry in the travel section when I collect my thoughts and am in a less oppressively hot room.
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[Cities]posted by peter at 18:21 .......For what it's worth, I arrived safely. The trip was arduous but fun, which is all part of the road trip appeal.
Dear me, schoolkids riding bikes on tree-lined roads, little children waving from median strips to the passing parade, people walking in the evenings with those bizarre walking-weight things... I must be in the suburbs.
It's been loads of fun so far, but now is not the time to go into it. Suffice it to say that somehow I left my ATM card in Melbourne (demonstrating unheard-of carelessness) and therefore I've had to borrow money from mum and dad, because heaven knows the banks are never open.
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[Not the coast road]posted by peter at 23:20 .......For these are uncertain times, and on this occasion the journey lies today instead of tomorrow. In six short hours I must arise and face the white lines of the freeway.
See you in Adelaide. Should be there by five.
(No, I haven't packed yet.)
[Sentiment]posted by peter at 19:24 .......After my Papa died, Nanna saw angels dancing at the foot of her bed.
Nanna was the last of my grandparents to go. I'd begun university and she told me she was thankful she'd lived long enough to find out which path each of her grandchildren would follow. Not long after the car crash I withdrew from engineering, so I guess she never really found out.
She was on life support for a time, but in truth died the instant the metal contorted.
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It could be December tonight, three nights before Christmas on the farm. Perhaps the grey thistles would have released their feathery orbs, a million radial fibres to drift on the currents blowing in over the continent. The plastic tree would sit atop the speaker box, laden with homemade decorations and bright supermarket tinsel, tiny globes blinking SOS through the glass to the sentinel pines beyond the brown paddocks. The air would smell of grain, of cut stalks, of dust. Not like the quinces of May, but with similar mnemonic potential. Our young hearts would pound: Miriam might play the flute or the piano, Sonia the clarinet. I would watch TV. Anything to distract us from the boxes that lay beneath the polymer limbs and the ceramic nativity scene.
But it's still October, and other things have changed.
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[Re:knew]posted by peter at 22:25 .......You know it's summer 'round here because the cafés down the street overflow with guys in tight pastel singlets sheltering behind Dolce & Gabbana lenses.
If they're not there, you know it's not summer.
Summer's just an attitude after all. Normally I shy from the season, but it really was a lovely day. The kitchen window yawned a warm breeze that rustled the rosemary bush and swayed the flowering sage. Strange creatures are awakening in the yard, and some (including a repugnant spider) have sought refuge in the cooler vales of the house.
And I was dicing and slicing; chilli and garlic and tomato; draining beans and leaving pots on hobs a touch too long. Our smoke alarm would have chirped had not the battery been wrenched out the last time the device indicated a nonexistent blaze. It's good to leave our household open to conflagration; endangering life is all part of living on the edge.
Urban domesticity, but we're only in Zone 1. (Does anybody want a househusband, minus kids?) Don't worry, that whole persona went to hell when I slobbed out on the couch this afternoon, but Dr Zhivago made for some cultured lethargy. Surely some bonus points there.
Kyle told me that eventually I'll be confined to café terraces, living from coffee to coffee in an eternal series of social gatherings. It became my thought for the day, and in the early evening I accepted an invitation and we descended upon yet another fine city precinct.
** Maybe I'm just kidding myself and this is a cry for stability? **
[What to do with myself]posted by peter at 11:10 .......Oh my gosh. The White Stripes. Oh my gosh.
LIVID was great, there's a full report in music (#).
I'm sure there's more to tell about life in general, but I'm a bit beside myself.
It's now under a month until I leave. I catch an afternoon flight to Tokyo on November 12. Not sure if I'm spectacularly disorganised or if I've achieved some sort of traveller's nirvana – perfect calm and sublime organisation.
The Adelaide road trip is back on! Cross-country on Thursday.
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[Timetabling]posted by peter at 23:13 .......The visitor avalanche thunders on. Em has been here all this week and won't be going home any time soon... we've been doing the coffee + gallery + shopping thing, including a comprehensive browse through Tiffany's where she got acknowledged but I didn't.
Nikki and Lisa arrive tomorrow for fun times and LIVID festivities. (I've realised that I'll miss next year's amazing Big Day Out too.) Nikki and I will be doing the road trip on Thursday – I can't believe I'm going to Adelaide next week – although there's still some doubt as to whether I can do the drive, because I may yet need to fly there on Tuesday. Fortunately he doesn't seem too perturbed by my indecision. Seriously, the timing of this Adelaide trip couldn't have been worse, but it was the only time I could manage I'm afraid.
Anyway, stress less, whatever Trevor... things have a habit of working themselves out, and any time I can spend with people will be precious. (It's so refreshing to enter the early hours with pertinent aphorisms. Or should that be platitudes?)
[Book now!]posted by peter at 12:05 .......I'm a bit confused by the Melbourne Fringe Festival, because I can't see it anywhere. Sure, the green programs are ubiquitous, but the actual event lacks presence. Covering a few pieces of public art with white bedsheets does not an arts festival make.
I guess it's just that I've been spoilt by my time in Adelaide. The Adelaide Fringe and its much more highbrow companion (the Festival of Arts) absolutely seize the city. Venues pop up where you least expect them, and all sorts of interesting people crawl out of the woodwork and hit the streets.
(I don't know where these people come from. It’s an interesting question that I may tackle another time. Pippa and I have long complained about seeing young and interesting people at 'special events' but then being unable to find them afterwards. Where do they go?)
From one end of the city to the other, you know about the Festival. Even the far-flung suburbs get their slice of the action. Although this is no doubt partly to do with Adelaide's smaller size, I can't understand why a similar fever doesn't seem to grip Melbourne. Maybe it's too close to the end of football season, so nobody can be bothered.
I'm not saying the Melbourne festivals aren't great; I'm sure they are. It's just that I'm not feeling swept up in them, despite spending plenty of time in their nuclei, so to speak. Perhaps it's just my state of mind.
I'm a bit upset that I'll miss next year's Adelaide Fringe; I'll miss the Festival of Arts; I'll miss Womadelaide. But hey, I'll be in Tokyo.
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[Vapours]posted by peter at 17:04 .......Warm air drifts from prison bar ducts that sit neatly in the floorboards. Outside, weeds push their way through gaps in the brickwork. The airstreams carry dust particles, but the weeds may bear flowers.
Three feet above it all, a globe of plasma clings to the skin’s torn surface, a speck of blood resting at the base of the orb like the yolk of an egg. The wound is not serious.
Fluid dynamics tells of lower pressure in the centre, where the stream runs faster. A grey train speeds out of a suburban station and exerts a similar pull on a tired passenger walking parallel.
Sometimes babies dream of their time in the womb and forget they have to breathe on the outside.
[Inefficiencies]posted by peter at 16:25 .......Well it really is nobody's fault but my own that none of the three shirts fit properly. That's what happens when you combine a bargain mentality with an ethos that disallows trying things on prior to purchase.
Only when I got home, therefore, did I find out that the fitted shirts really are so fitted that my arms barely make it through the sleeves. It's weird: lengthwise they're fine but they just hug too much. Hideous really. I only ever intended to use them as undergarments (it's all about layering), but there comes a point where freedom of movement cannot be compromised for the sake of style. I guess I'm not as young as I used to be.
Oddly enough, they were all marked as size 'M'. Normally when I buy a shirt off the rack without trying it on, I go for size 'S', and it fits fine. So in theory these garments should have virtually billowed. It must be something to do with the sizing system used in the miscellaneous third-world countries from which they came.
*pushes images of sweatshops and forced child labour from mind*
Anyway, a short stroll back to the shop is on the cards for tomorrow. Thank goodness for exchange policies.
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[What is that sound?]posted by peter at 09:22 .......My beautiful, beautiful, beautiful friends, both local and interstate, have banded together and bought me a ticket to LIVID as a farewell present!!
I'm so excited I could just die. If any of you are reading this, thank you so very much! I'm quite beside myself and utterly flabbergasted by everyone's kindness.
I don't deserve this sort of thing... I'm generally quite vile.
But now a seven nation army couldn't keep me back!!
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[Cardamom]posted by peter at 22:39 .......Hmm, my chai wasn't very enjoyable because I convinced myself that residual tannins on the cup had reacted with the dishwasher detergent to produce a layer of scum, rather like the patina on an old copper rooftop.
I began to imagine subtle yet inappropriate flavours permeating the spicy infusion, but these became real and at the end I felt quite nauseous. It's amazing what I can make myself believe sometimes, to the detriment of the greater good.
I don't know where these notions come from.
[Bin alley]posted by peter at 20:27 .......Like, it is so 'hard rubbish' night, and Kate and I dragged our metallic debris down the side alley and through two locked gates to the road. We had to hide a swivel chair outside a house two doors down so that our immediate neighbours won't know that it was us who nicked it from them last hard rubbish night.
And what happened when I picked up the stack of damaged outdoor chairs? About a litre of rancid water flooded out and splashed all down the front of my shirt and pants. There's nothing quite like the feel of wet corduroy on skin.
Em's here again, for two weeks this time, yay, we did the Chapel St thing today. We tried to find those weird novelty toys with penguins that float on the surface of blue paraffin and you can kind of shake it around, a bit like a snowdome but not. Vile objects, but necessary in only the most novel sense.
Then I caught a train to the city and watched Springtime in a small town, which I loved. I'm now ensconced in my Monday night TV viewing schedule, and enjoying it a lot thank you very much. Dear me, it must be time for a lovely soya chai.
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[The weekend in pictures]posted by peter at 20:01 .......
(no, the jacket ain't serious)
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[Out of control]posted by peter at 20:47 .......I had the misfortune of being on platform 8 when the train from the racecourse pulled into the station. Sliding doors breached the vessel of feather hats and intoxicated corporate folk. Trailing the throng was a thick cloud of champagne vapour and the odd wayward black stole. There's something totally sick about being around drunken life-crisis types in the late afternoon, particularly on a day as sketchy as this one.
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[Exhausted]posted by peter at 17:21 .......Very tired from a day of trudging around with the bitches. Somehow ended up in the midst of vintage couture and antique odds and ends. Frustrated by being unable to find a simple black zip-up jacket to approximate an item in the latest men's Gucci range. Here I was thinking couture rip-offs were a dime a dozen, but maybe only those from two seasons ago.
Sickeningly I've been offered an interview for an IT position. They want me to show up on Monday morning, but I may yet cancel, because I'm hardly going to change my plans for Tokyo. It's all about fulfilling Centrelink requirements at the moment... four job contacts per fortnight.
Tonight I'm going to drink vodka with cranberry juice. How late nineties.
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[Bloat]posted by peter at 18:02 .......Beaten by two pieces of cake in two days. Such abject failure.
The first was a hideous piece of chocolate mousse cake with embedded biscuits, which was certainly set with gelatine and therefore wobbled creepily whilst conjuring images of cattle screaming as their bones are pulverised in a grinder, boiled and then strained. Once the first bout of paranoia had set in, my mind wandered and I began to question whether the biscuits were in fact cheap alternative 'buy Australian' ripoffs that use animal fat instead of pure vegetable oils because every Aussie loves that delightful aftertaste of congealed roast fat. I ate less than half.
Then today, I was in the Veggie Bar with Chris, where I partook of a sumptuous wedge of baked cheesecake with assorted forest fruits strewn on top. It was absolutely delicious, and made better by the knowledge that no animal had died apart from maybe tiny bugs that may have been gathered with the berries, which is still tragic and I'm not saying it's okay, but unintentional death sits far more comfortably with me than rampant abattoir slaughter. Sadly, about half way into the decadent creation, my body gave me very clear signals that it was not interested in receiving a single bite more. My brain wanted it, my soul wanted it, but my stomach said no.
And thus did dessert products defeat me.
The ever-delightful Tree arrives tonight. A weekend of visitors looms brightly.
Oh yeah, and there are life-size nudie pictures in the museum... in the life sciences and biology (specifically reproduction) section on the second floor.
[Lifecycle]posted by peter at 11:11 .......Absurdly, it seems I am going back to the museum today. Chris has flown in from Adelaide and wants to do the tourist trail. Back to the art gallery too.
Maybe I'll make it to that tearoom after all.
I'm going to wear my skull-and-crossbones jacket, in the hope that it will ward off children.
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[*Wrench*]posted by peter at 15:38 .......Well events didn't transpire quite as planned, but you get that when the school holidays bring a veritable tsunami of Aspergic children to hamper everybody's plans. We met at the museum, which is practically a daycare centre at these times.
Luckily Sandra is one of the world's best people. It was also terrific to catch up with Andrew, who was there with his kids too.
Sandra and I had coffee on the first level of the museum. A woman in the queue had "white and proud" tattooed on her wrist. I wanted to slap her. Then another pushy man made off with my tall latte. They whooshed up another for me, but burnt the milk. My styrofoam coffee cup got punctured somehow, and bled the murky liquid all over the minimalist table and oxidised concrete floor.
I felt a bit uneasy in the kids' section of the museum because I believe that some of the grandmas and mums thought I was a young dad. They gave me sympathetic smiles.
After that we went to the aquarium, which was far less enjoyable on second visit, swarming as it was with prams and the esoteric Melbourne notion that those in your way will dematerialise when you need to get past. It's interesting to watch the dynamics that arise when too many family units get crushed within too small a floor space. They tend to silently criticise one another's preferred forms of discipline. Of course none of this is verbally articulated, but eye movements convey a lot of information to the casual observer.
It was a day marked by hordes of screaming children: pushing, tapping, hitting, shrieking, rolling, jumping.
Worst of all, my hair just wasn't sitting properly.
[Almost break you]posted by peter at 08:05 .......So I'm cooking away last night, jiving to my latest compilation CD (but not bustin' moves or anything, please don't get that idea), when I knock my Villeroy and Boch handle-free mug, complete with chai detritus and tannin-rich liquid remnants, off of the kitchen benchtop. Never have I been so glad to cause such a spill on the loungeroom carpet as I was then, simply because the mug did not break.
Yup, you'd almost think I had a story to tell.
Sandra is here and I'm so excited! We're meeting in a couple of hours and I'm hoping to take her to some quasi-Victorian tearooms (or maybe quasi-50s-meets-Victorian, not sure) I've spotted in one of the city lanes, but I don't know how much time she'll have, because I think she's heading off to Tasmania.
Looks like I've got another road trip to look forward to, Melbourne to Adelaide again. Mid-October, pending approval from me and my international plans. Oh I could spin a tale of fabulousness, were the façade not so very very thin. I guess it never was bulletproof.
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