The mighty Tessa pointed out this snippet of street art to me not long after I moved down here, and I've loved it ever since. I particularly love the gleeful face it's paired with. Cos those crushes, my friend: they're going to hurt you every which way 'til Sunday, but you'll still welcome it. At least in part.
We kept the railway tracks because they were historic.
We put the light-post in between them purely and simply to f#ck with your brain.
I came across this display on my walk in to work this morning.
A little further down the street was a slew of cars with their back windscreen wipers lifted. I'm guessing someone had a hijinky kinda night.
This synopsis is utterly and unequivocally wiping the floor with me.
Forgive me, my lovely internets, for spending so long away from you! (And, um, promise you'll forgive me for only briefly checking in before I dash away again?)
I did however find one of the world's better 'No Entry' signs while I was away, which I offer for your amusement:
Mostly lately I've been working, when I could snatch a moment to myself, on a synopsis for the faerie novel. Given I haven't finished the novel, and don't plan my novels in advance, writing a synopsis at this point in my process is … not coming easily, to say the least.
I'm finding it surprisingly draining. The story always feels forced, when I need to figure things out before the characters actually experience it, and I never trust that I've got it right. But after much grinding of teeth (quite literally — all this novel-plotting is making me grind my teeth while I sleep) I think I've figured out the important plot points.
Well, everything except the, er, climax.
Yanno, no biggie.
Tell me that's not a person trapped in a tree trunk.
(The Royal Botanic Gardens. Not for the faint of heart, apparently.)
Well, it's been over a week now, and there have been no more naked men strutting around the driveway. I share this news because people have been sending me text messages: encountered any nude or rude people today? insanity factor check? nekkid loon count, update!
In fact, I have not seen Mr Balloons at all, clothed or otherwise, since That Morning, otherwise known as the day the world went so crazy1 I began to wonder if I had any secrets worth the effort of inceptioning. Given I don't normally run into him particularly often, it's hard to tell whether this means he's back to his normal routine, or whether he's now enjoying a restful holiday tucked up in the locked ward of the closest psychiatric unit.
Instead I have been entertaining myself comparing the phone plans available through different providers.
They're universally crap. Dear Australian telcos: kindly get over yourself. I'm not actually sure which of you I loathe the most.
i'm pretty sure this bridge has greater structural integrity than any of the phone plans available to me
Last weekend I took a leap of faith.
It's been eating at me all week long, and I've only just realised that the reason I'm edgy, and angry, and wanting to lash out, is because I've been feeling vulnerable and stupid.
There was something I was waiting to do — waiting for the right time, the right moment. There were good reasons to wait, every reason to wait and none not to, and I'd promised myself I would do just that.
But last weekend, on the spur of the moment, I changed my mind.
I've decided I refuse to regret this.
Do things without always knowing how they'll turn out. Because certainty is a false goal.
© 2005 - 2012 Deborah Kalin
