listening to Fast Cars by Tracy Chapman
One teaspoon of Moccona with one teaspoon of sugar.
Nowadays, my typical day here in melbourne is the epitome of a bummer's life. When Rudy is away in school, I plonk myself on a tram and loiter around the city, where every single street and road is lined with rows upon rows of shops, restaurants and chic cafes. I must have looked ridiculous, periodically stopping at the side of the street and rotating the map in all possible direction to find the most street-savvy way to navigate around all the countless junctions and intersections. But noone knows me. So even in my most unglam moment with bad hair day and evident lack of sense of direction, I seek solace in the pleasure of anonymity and everything seems not so bad.
When I am tired of walking, I sit on one of the many benches along the streets, while seagulls and pigeons flap around noisily beside me fighting for crumbs. And with the company of my faithful iPod, sometimes before I know it, many contemplative minutes have faded into nothingness.
I sound like a bum right??
The days and nights have been getting progressively colder here in Melbourne and various parts of my body have been responding to the climate by going completely cold turkey. My eyes are droopy, my face is blotchy, my hair seems like it has lost its life, and I just feel like sleeping the whole day away. I used to wake up feeling happier back in Gold Coast, but now I open my eyes and move my limbs only because I need to snooze the alarm. And I blame it on the weather. But maybe it is also because I have a queen size bed all to myself while there is only one pillow. So at night I curl into a fetal position with my knee caps touching my face and then hug myself to sleep. And when I wake up, my body aches in a way that a gymnast feels after she has done the Olympics.
Today we had a late and heavy breakfast. I had a bowl of muesli with milk, a prawn fritter and a mug of coffee milk, which totally made my morning. But barely an hour later, Uncle Wahyu asked us out for LUNCH. At that point of time I felt my pants starting to tighten, but we obliged nonetheless. We went to this cozy little english cafe called Cafe Sweetheart and had the yummiest brunch ever. I had eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce, with avocado and a bit of sauteed mushroom, and felt like I had gone up to heaven. And hence, I came to a conclusion that heaven must be full of fat and happy people.
As much as I am sounding like a true blue bum, I actually have got lots of things to do. I have spent my free time settling the accomodation and itinerary for my Sydney trip next Thursday, and likewise for the Hobart and Launceston trip next month. And when I want to do something less technical, I like to sit on the floor and admire my new guitar (yes, spanking brand new guitar which I have to lug all the way back to Singapore!). I also need to periodically sit down and take some time moisturizing my legs, or trimming my fringe. So as you can tell, being a bum is actually not that easy afterall. Plus, sometimes my jobs are made difficult because I get lost in the house while trying to make my way back into the study, like how I did this morning.
But on some days when I have more time to spare, I could afford to be lost in stupor thinking about many things. Like the colour of the scarf I should wear today. Or the names of my future children. You know, how these Hollywood people name their kids with distasteful names like Paris or Brooklyn? I need to think of ways to do better than them, and come up with better names. Like Fiji, or maybe Pennsylvania.
Eat your vegetables, Pennsylvania!
No TV before you finish your spelling, Pennsylvania!
Ok seriously, can you tell that I'm starting to malfunction here?