I'm eating pears heavily coated in custard, i think that's saying something.
Saturday, ergh, spent 5 hrs removing hair from a girls buttocks then on the way home on public transport i was stuck sitting next to a group of teenage boys who wore these hats and dressed in what i would call, new-wave emo where the emphasis is on block colours and asymetry but no angst (cos they all on prozac). They were posing and taking photographs and being loud about the party they went to and a movie that had "sex scenes" . They wore those hats.
I could have mistaken them for mannequins from Myers however these moved and talked, unfortunately.
Bah, maybe i'm just getting old, grumpy and old.. hahaha. I guess i was just as loud a few years back.
We all know what a job does to your free spirit.
So today i went over to Forbes and burton for a solo-lunch, just me and a weeks worth of magazines i want to catch up on.
Am reading, well, looking-at-the-pictures of Vogue italy. It has a celebrity issue and Nicole ritchie is on the cover. She looks so glamourous with that huge head of hers and tiny wrists, tiny wrists! I don't have a clue what's written but i could make out some words. Nice photos though and it came with Casa vogue, Vogue home which had some great retro 60s interiors more nature and stone surfaces than bakelite-kitch. Some great ideas and inspirations there. One of my favourite interiors is one of Bob dylans study room where its just a simple table and chair (cane thatch seat) ceramic vase and flowers with bits of writing paper , solid waxed floor boards but not high gloss and gorgeous ceramic ashtray and cup of coffee. A minimised english cottage scene pushed slightly to the edge.
So chic and simple .
Lunch was turnip and salmon mash on sourdough and two eggs. Quite filling but oh so delicate.
I exclamied "Eventhough i wear fur and leather was the salmon mashed with the turnip?"
Tara - "um, no. The salmon was poached in milk then gently flaked through the turnip and potato mash"
The way she described it was so fabulous i had to taste the milk-poached salmon gently flaked through turnip potato mash.
I also had mango and rasberry swirl in celebration of these 60's haute-interiors i was flipping through. It was really a glass of mangos, so thick! so sticky and mangoey, i had naughty thoughts whilst trying in vain to move mango-flesh inbetween my teeth.
Lunch was fantastic as always, i strolled to Townhall as i am getting hideously fat but cannot stay away from food and i haven't smoked for weeks now.

The glorious summer sun warmed celtic skin strewn across Hyde park, a derranged frenchwoman chasing white cranes and pigeons sailing on the glassy pond infront of the war memorial. Evocative moods amongst fig tree shadows and a mother telling her son to only press the button with his elbows at the traffic lights because he had to eat with his hands later.
A man carrying a tiny maltese dog kissing it's wet nose and the wind that hid behind starbucks wooshed across our faces as we crossed elizabeth street.

I bought a scarf at Oxfam for my mother for christmas, i was tempted to go Gucci but, i think it's time to change, time for meaning in our consumerist hearts besides she already has a Gucci scarf.
Nearly bought the pumpkin-shape tea pot however, i've decided to use what i have, use it till it falls apart then buy. To stop accumilating and start utilising all the tings i have.
The cup above was actually my grandfathers, finding all sorts of things in the bowels of oak laminate cupboards.