second sightings

 

Dear (very public) diary,
Today after work I was again blessed with the angelic sight of Mornington Crescent Tube Boy. I'm pretty certain i'm now in love with him. those blue eyes. I don't think i'm ready to tattoo his name on my flesh but i'm defs hitting up the front cover of my exercise book with Mrs. MCTB. He seems to have mastered the use of his oyster card. That's good. Yep, he had no problems passing through the turnstiles. smooth as butter. Oh, I didn't like his socks though, bit thick for my preference. Maybe they could go missing next washing day? Thanks in advance. His facial hair seems to have been maintained. Double thanks.

Oh also, other than oyster cards we also both have iPhones. What are the chances?
Oh diary, we are meant to be.. Steve Jobs sent him to me!

BOOTS 4 MCTB.

love boots.

p.s lucky I had a hooded coat today.. it rains here a lot.

code

C1, C4, C7, C7, A2, A2, C7, C7, C7, A2 --> A4 [c7], A13[c7], A13[c7], A12[c7], A11[c7], A2...

A2, A6[c7], D1[c7], A2, A4, A4, A5, A4, A2.

A5, inner A16, A5.

then whatevs man.

girlhate

"her forehead is so big we could have a tea party on it"

don't lie. just reading that little beauty made your heart beat a little faster. got those scorned lover juices flowing all through your veins and hopefully not down your leg. made you check your own girl hate's profile page to double check just how big her forehead was. oh good. still as large and overwhelming as you remembered. and I assure you, even her daddy doesnt think that extra puppy fat she is carrying is cute anymore. [end rant]

why do we hate the other woman? I hated mine because she got cheeky with my boyfriend. She stole my role while I was in a far away land. She wore his t shirt. She wrote him secret emails. He wrote her secret emails. And breaking into his shitty hotmail account (c'mon, its all about gmail) and reading their flirty one liners was like my crack. I had convinced myself she was out to steal him. "I left my shirt on your floor" would appear on the screen as "thanks for the hot sex". So when it did eventuate between them much much later, I was as high as Miss Kate Moss after a fat line of wizz fizz.

Obviously I was devastated. It didnt help that I had just arrived in the States to see him and now had six weeks of 'we're just friends who sleep in the same bed' time ahead of me. Then, because i'm an irrational female, my brain started to compile a list of reasons why I am superior to this girl. It went something like:

I'm from MELBOURNE. She's from the gold coast. (that shit don't even deserve capital letters)
I have a degree. She has an RSA.
My hair is bouncy. She doesn't wash her hair.

you get the idea.. a bunch of petty shit.

Looking back over my rational shoulder (usually my right shoulder) I can note HE made me the promises and I was but a relationship status on his facebook to his mistress. I don't understand why I still hate her. I mean other than the fact I'm probably looking over my left shoulder. Yet I desperately want him to be my best friend forever? matters of the heart are inexplicable. they can feel amazing and or they can nunchak-u in the shins.

any how I don't really have answers or morals to this story. Sisters and friends, although girlhate can feel good temporarily it won't allow us to move on. So take solace in the fact you are like waaaaay skinnier than her and release your girlhate.

Oh and if I end up dating someone who reads this.. you should still trust me with your password. babe, you can trust me.

following

"Yeah.. I follow Audrina
from the Hills. What's it to you?"
-my 36 year old twittering male desk buddy.

falling into you.

After work, a friend and I ride the tube to our hood. Usual peak hour grind: we are standing in very close proximity to other tubers; total no brain fuckers decide to open up broadsheet newspapers despite the lack of space, there are devils with luggage and the usual people who decided it was a good idea to let a homeless man piss on them before beginning their journey.

I dont hate (secretly love) that sometimes cute boys with the sleepy eyes and facial hair just so happen to get on the train RIGHT WHERE I AM STANDING. gotcha. Then just to tease me with their amazingness they stand with their chest in my face and then put their arm up to the holding rail and my gawd there I am just staring directly at them thinking i'm nano millimetres away from a chest hug. all looking no touching. i draw the line at molestation.

I DID draw the line at molestation. My tube buddy has certainly changed that. The lass is a confident little thing. She will give me eyes to check out mr fox standing right next to her and then.. this is the magnum ego of our tube trip... she will 'accidentally' fall on the boy when the train starts and/or stops. I dont mean brush against him. I mean push her breasts into his torso and her lips against his neck.

Its very amusing. For me. For him. For her. Everyone wins unless of course he has a girlfriend looming from the seated area (that will teach the bitch to take the seat from the old lady with her groceries). Anyhow I think all girls should at least try this move once (cue: 'girls just wanna have fun' soundtrack). Choose your target carefully: lone rangers. Always fall into their chest, not their back and no groping. That's illegal and difficult to explain to the police.

Blog Directory

oh i think so.

If someone buys me this beautiful thing I will rub your tummy every night to put you to sleep and buy you milkshakes (strawberry ofcourse) and bake cookies in the oven so when you get home from work the house smells like goodness.

anna magnani

I'm loving this lady. Serious steez. Makes me want to take up smoking and speaking italian. Cool points. The Rose Tattoo was written specifically for her to star in. She'd be my muse too.

quotable

"i'll eat anything from cows to small children" -undisclosed American.

sweet teeth

I'm pretty sure if you cut me I would bleed sugar and it would taste like deliciousness. When I was young, I didnt understand why savoury food existed. I would eat my tic toc biscuits and think they would be better if they didnt have the biscuit just the tasty pink or yellow frosting. In highschool I was adamant to open a restaurant that only served meals made out of confectionery. Like pizzas topped with jolly ranchers and life savers and sour straps for bacon. And sometimes (most of the time) I just want to eat the top off my cupcake and leave the cake unless its one of those ones with frosting in the middle too... then i would try eat some of the cake bit too.

I can't find giant killer pythons anywhere in London. I'm devastated. Anyone want the orange section of my snake? I'll swap you for blue.

Underground time.

I'm so clearly an Australian in London. It's not that I walk around with vegemite on my face or live in Shepherd's Bush but I super duper love The Underground! *Drawing a major loveheart all around the word* It is the most amazing network I have ever come across. In Melbourne, I could wait up to 20 minutes for a train and here in London I'm not waiting more than 4 minutes! Super efficient. I can sometimes see the tube there and I still take my time knowing that if I happen to miss it I won't be able to walk the distance of the platform before the next one is there! Created in 1863. Mind blown. The founding fathers of modern London were wicked smart.

I do enjoy the show true Londoners put on when they run chaotically and miss the train and then colourfully curse and genuinely seem distraught. I copped one guy who started to kick and punch the train as it left the station. Frankie says relax and I would have to second him. People plan to the minute in this city. I overheard a lady on her phone before descending to the tube say that she will meet the receiving end of the call in 6 minutes but give 40 seconds for her to alight and climbs the stairs. Surely such meticulous planning is not necessary? (I'm no Nancy Drew but clearly I am Nancy Drew because this lady must have been meeting the guy who kicked and punched the poor tube hence her anal timing. Case closed.)

Today on a peak train a powersuit gave me his seat. I was shocked. I usually stand with the cool kids (in the designated Ipod docking area) even when there are seats available but it was so kind that I took his offer. Then my inside voice took over. Why the fuck did this gentleman give up his seat? I must look disabled or pregnant. Given the amount of cupcakes and easter eggs I have consumed this month. It is quite possible the kind man thought I was in my last trimester. fuck. Atleast I always take the stairs after tubing.

Oh and if the cute boy filling out an oyster card application at Mornington Crescent Tube at roughly 5.30pm reads this. Call me. I like lefties and we both have oyster cards in common so we can chat about that over tea (not coffee because London coffee is shit said the super unique Melbournian).

celery stalks

I'll admit I enjoy the occasional stalk of a friend of a friend's facebook page or blog or tumblr. I'm mad for it but dont tell cyber society. It's always slightly awkward when you finally meet that person.. and you mention that you too peel the skin off red grapes but not green grapes and then they look at you wearily and then you pretend you have a migraine to change the subject. "Seriously, someone get me some excedrin I ate too much cheese and/or chocolate*!"

(*Cheese and chocolate brings on migraines. This will help you look legit)

Once a boy (let's call him Ronald) approached a friend and I and said that we looked like girls that enjoyed french music. We analysed each other and neither of us were wearing berets or baguettes that night. Utter confusion. As the conversation digressed he asked if we liked Uffie and Justice. I'm embarrassed to admit this was in the era of Myspace but the boy just regurgitated our profile songs. Way to blow your cover Ronald. Now scram.

shitmydadsays

I was just introduced to this twitterer and now i'm suffering from acute asthma. Um Mum, I have left my ventolin at home! Intensely funny shit. If twitter was developed for this one person to make this page.. so worth it.

@Mboots: giggling uncontrollably.

(pretty sure i'm not doing the '@' thing right but while you are tweeting i'm cutting the crusts off my toast and then my toast into soldiers)

fauxhemania

I dont usually like to rag on people or groups of people but fuck, if I have to spend another Saturday night in London surrounded by people who looked up the term 'bohemian' and 'artist' and now try desperately to conform to that Merriam Webster's definition I may just stab myself in the wrist with a rusty nail and I won't get a tetanus shot!

The fail safe way to pick a fauxhemian is to ask them where they are from. If they respond that they are 'transglobal' or 'panglobal' they're a fucking faux. I met a boy who had left London for one year to live in NYC. Sorry buddy but that doesn't make you a 'wanderer'. Infact, it doesnt make you 'well travelled'. It hardly even makes you 'travelled'. Another fail safe sign is if they get down in the dumps when you get excited about something you own- say a pair of dashing boots. They are attempting to illustrate their non-materialist way of life: faux alert. The ironic thing is their outfits are so carefully constructed in order to create this image of vagrancy.

London fields. For every group of good honest genuine art folk, there is a group of sinister posers. I love creative people. I'm naturally drawn to them but I think creativity is organic and intangible. Last time I checked poo and faux blood on the walls of your shitty squatter flat did not make you artistic. It possibly made you a health hazard but no, definitely not a gauge of your creativeness.

I legitimately copped a fellow who described himself as a 'canvas transformer'. Wow man, you dont even conform to the title 'artist'! And his free spirited girlfriend (i know she is a free spirit because she told me so) is a 'coke poet'. I'm not kidding, she only writes haikus after she powders her nose. I dont think that big money bag of coke is in line with the frugal bohemian lifestyle missy, you better revise that definition.

Ok thats my hating for the month. I'm getting off the doc's couch now and drinking some store bought chocolate milk.

girl crush

This week I'm majorly crushing on Miss Arnott (babe on the bottom left) who designs for the banging Australian label: Arnsdorf. Arnsdorf is beautiful, chic and ageless and Jade Sarita Arnott is the magic behind those fetching looks. If you can make double denim look this good.. put down your cupcake and CALL ME because I really want to date you. Oh and jeans which we don't have to paint on because they are so tight.. feeling it.

And some Arnsdorf to whet your craving eyesight.

pick up line fails

he said: "so you are half european and half asian. you must have an amazing immune system"

she said: "what?"

he said: "well how often do you get sick? must be rare."

she said: "excuse me"

he said: "because your genes are superior to mine"

[exeunt: girl]

to be fair. he was scottish and therefore at an automatic disadvantage. lay off the haggis man.

just did some discovering.

yes to diary writing! yes to gossip while you braid your bestfriend's hair! yes to getting super excited when he requests your friendship! yes yes yes... so i've been busy overanalysing my girlfriends and have worked out some serious philosophical shit (thesis topic?).

Liking boys is fun and warms the belly and I truly believe it curbs your appetite and keeps the fat blues at bay. Until the girl has sex with said boy. Then the girl becomes a total stress head and gets hurt and screams things like 'oh why is that fucker such a head fuck?!' via text message to maybe me on the other side of the world.. which makes me do some thinking as the above may allude. ahh the circle of thought, young simba. A boy once said to me 'well you can't get over him because you're a girl.' His words have stayed with me... since last week when he shared this gold.

So, kissing and snuggles and spooning keeps it all light and fun. So, if you want to maximise the butterflies and good feelings and skinny waists take it slow ladies UNLESS you are blessed with the ability to disconnect (which you probably are not because if you have taken note 'you're a girl'). But if so, go forth and dominate, you little minx.

I didn't even need a 115 page dissertation to share this shit.

desperately seeking

When I was in primary school I pretended to read Goosebumps (because all the boys at school were reading it) but was really reading BSC. Kristy, Mary Anne, Claudia and Stacey. Four friends and baby-sitting. They were right. What could be more fun?!

I was always a Stacey McGill fan. She was academic (mathelete), had great clothes, loved Robert (the bastketballer) and was BFF's with Claudia (everyone needs a creative asian best friend). Her birthday was April 3rd. My birthday is April 2nd. Yeah. We would be tight and could give each other best friend necklaces (the hearts that split in two) and then hug and then put them on each other and then look at them and then probably hug some more.

in short

UHT

I just found out that UHT milk is not from an Uht at all but is just milk from a cow which is processed at an Ultra High Temperature. All this time I thought I was drinking this magical animal's milk. shattered.

Shoe stalkings

I often find myself riding the tube, listening to lady gaga, pretending i'm listening to something much cooler like Elliott Smith (because i have a fringe I can't see passed) and BAM a pair of sweetly clad feet sit right across from me. So I get my phone out (on the sly) to try capture those beauties. I can feel the judgement from the power suit on my right but that's okay. I'm slowly building an amazing collection of tube feet. will s h a r e soon.

I saw these and died inside. The girl was also eating cadbury creme eggs. Yes that was the plural of egg. Soulmate?

im boy crazy

I love this girl. Not only because she reminds me of my bestie (i'm a sucker for blue eyes and dark hair) but because she likes boys A LOT. Read her tales of kissing super cute babes or her 'blind leading the blind' posts. makes me warm in my belly. yus. boys. yumm. Click on her pic-cha.

ps. how good is non sexual snuggling? so good for the soul. l u r v e.

Oh Billy.

i just did some learning.

old is new and new is old

The best thing about my job is exploring old typeface. l o v e.

honey i'm home

My mother always pressures me to learn how to cook. I can toast bread, buy cheese and operate a sandwich press. The stove however causes panic and confusion (there's always six knobs and only four burners?). Dont get me wrong, I heart good food. I just do not like making it. It takes time, energy and frankly I think it tastes much better when someone else is lovingly preparing it while I have my feet up on the couch.

A friend recently commented on my 'disgraceful' kitchen skills but confided that many girls he knew were rough in the kitchen especially compared to his male friends. Made me question.. Do we have a post modern day woman? Is it possible women like my mother who can cook and hold down a full time job are being replaced by women who can't cook but are willing to go earn the bacon for her man in the apron? My gawd I hope so.

um hi. want to make out?

Good hearts

Sometimes we get flustered and overwhelmed with things we do for other people. Will they abuse our kindness? Will they repay the favour? Really stooge, it should not matter. A person very close to me said something that cleared oceans and has helped my highly strung brain take a little holiday ('vacation' for you americans playing along).

He said 'aslong as you do something with a good heart and good intentions it does not matter what happens after this.'

Yep. Tis good and I hope it helps you step back from those feelings of anxiety and distress which suck like the end of easter egg season.

The unknown frenchman

A friend of mine met a French man in Bali. He would take a dip in the ocean every single morning regardless of where he was. In the dead of winter in France or the height of summer in Indonesia he would jump into the ocean even if it were for a few moments. He believed it refreshed the soul and kept the blues away. This man was undertaking the most surreal assignment. He was recording the first 1000 questions that people asked him. So everytime someone asked him for the time (for example). He would pull out a recorder and repeat the question. What a lad. I would love to know the results of this somewhat quirky experiment of social behaviour. Get in touch Frenchie!

Pettiferic

I still daydream about the exhibition 'You are the Light'. Drew Pettifer could not have dreamt a more perfectly themed collection of beautiful portraits. The images are raw, engaging and full of sexy youthful wisdom. To think I was just passing by on my way to my favourite eggplant chips.

In a nutshell.