America the Beautiful.

I want a Lion

I watched this multiple times today.  The scene will be replicated when I greet my parents and bro at the Sydney airport in 5 weeks.

*Courtesy M.Smith

January 20, 2009

1. Barack Obama becomes President of The United States

2. I become 25 ( and a day)

3. My feet touch American soil for the first time in 16 months

<3

My new favorite lunch spot

3pm Victoria Park- Glebe, NSW. 

It went like this:

the future is now!!

holy shit... when did THIS start? amazing the technological advances that can happen in a measly year! NEWs indeed.
............i feel like i'm from the stone age.
(aka cable-free australia)



ps- melikes what he describes with his magic fingers
also, dark blue in the opening motion shot exactly denotes states i would/do consider living in
(possible exceptions: vermont and new jersey)
Also, i've gotta say... cnn's got it goin on in in terms of flash factor. ...that's all that matters, right?

what's the most fucked up party YOU'VE ever been to?

I win!

*note: this was not, i repeat NOT a halloween party.

Road to Surfer's Paradise (sans surfing)

Rodent warfare

Dear Kitchen Rat(s),
When I first saw you and realized how small and gray and terrified of me you were, my heart softened a bit to the idea of your infrequent visits to our kitchen. I'd knock before entering and give you a moment to scurry from inside the trash bin to what I can only assume is a rat paradise in the wall beneath our stove. I fought against an unnecessary rat genocide and said no to the purchase of poison. But then you got cocky. You got sloppy. You brought friends. Bigger friends. Decidedly un-cute, slow moving, gluttonous friends. You are not paying rent nor contributing to grocery costs, rat, and you are no longer welcome.
Wall fillers have been purchased, new trash bins acquired. The backyard is now on lock-down and bits of blue poison have been distributed.
Our Message:
Keep your filthy paws off our property or suffer the consequences.
There are plenty of restaurants in the surrounding areas to keep you nourished.
There's nothing for you here.
And unless you are smart enough not to consume that delicious looking poison and have armor the likes of this:

I suggest that you bid us adieu.
G'day
-Glebe Hotel Concierge

quoteunquote

“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, 

the master calls a butterfly.” 

— Chuang Tse

"Rampant like herpes, but for positive"

Glebe Hotel Take Notice!!

I can't help but notice that although love and passion for word combining has in no way diminished here in our humbode, it has lost a bit of vigor.
SO.
Here to amuse us in a different but similar vein, are Nonce Words.

Found in GOOD Magazine:
"nonce words: terms coined for a single occasion that don’t catch on at all.

For example, mossify, poorify, princify, tubify, and pumkinfier—all rare, oddball words to be sure, demonstrating both the productivity of -ify and the timeless tendency to newify language with novel words. Many of the old gems are fairly self defining—like dastardling, deericide, demonette, infantocracy, moanification, pigfully, poundiferous, squirtical, tigerocious, and traitorology."

Let the ridicibellious games begin.

GOOD magazine is scrumtulicious.
http://www.good.is/

Fly Me To The Moon

In 2009 Virgin Galactic will offer commercial space ventures in this:

For a mere $200,000 you get 6 minutes of gravity-free time in earth's orbit.
I work with some people who exist there all the time For Free!!

www.virgingalactic.com

Hope

Living across the world without a TV has rendered me sometimes painfully disconnected to my homeland's goings on. I download The Daily Show ( <3 ) and various podcasts and have recently made the Fantastic switch from cnn.com to The Independent, but it's hardly the same as being there. It's like knowing that somebody is having a bar-b-q -- maybe even smelling that bbq-- but not partaking in the feast (or in the US's recent case: old frozen package of hot-dogs and watered down kool-aid). How anyone is able to permanently change their residency blows my mind.
You can't change where you came from and no matter what crazy shit the US gets up to, I will never want to. Although I do hope we will have upgraded back to Polish sausages, potato salad, and margaritas by the time I get back. (Hide some cash under your mattress just to be sure.)
And because I hope this, I have just registered to vote- as should all rational Americans. (Bible belt- feel free to let November 4th slip your mind)

Friday night at Metro

Kiwi band Kora

Hello, Lover

Prague.
You whisper in my dreams...

You know when you meet someone that you've known forever?

....I love that shit.
It makes the vastness smaller.
Makes this crazy earth feel more like Home.

Dear Anthropologie, Prepare Yourself

I have a Buddha bank in my room
like a child
-a spiritual child who enjoys the finer material things in life-
and its entire contents are officially dedicated to a shopping spree at sweet sweet Anthropologie--
the cost of which will seem minimal after the outrageous price-point of Sydney.
the style of which will seem orgasmic after... well... sorry s-y-d.
until then, this is my porn:





(!!!!)




ohhh... holdon... let me gather myself...

I <3 Lao-tzu

-22-
If you want to become whole,
let yourself be partial.
If you want to become straight,
let yourself be crooked.
If you want to become full,
let yourself be empty.
If you want to be reborn,
let yourself die.
If you want to be given everything,
give everything up.

The Master, by residing in the Tao,
sets an example for all beings.
Because he doesn't display himself,
people can see his light.
Because he has nothing to prove,
people can trust his words.
Because he doesn't know who he is,
people recognize themselves in him.
Because he has no goal in mind,
everything he does succeeds.

When the ancient Masters said,
"If you want to be given everything,
give everything up,"
they weren't using empty phrases.
Only in being lived by the Tao can you be truly yourself.
-Ch. 22 of Tao Te Ching

Copied into my journal September 27, 2007 while sitting outside the Sydney Opera House. Mango gelato. 83 degrees. 3pm. terrified. excited. sure.

"A dog is forever in the push-up position"

Ladies and Gentlemen.... Mitch Hedberg.

To satiate Ossian's hunger to be featured online:

(the porn sites will respond one day Osh. Don't give up.)

The Cozy Scarf to Michigan's Mitten

I can't tell you the number of times people have guessed me as Canadian. At first I scoffed at them. You don't see me being super-quaint and saying "eh" after everything do you? No. I'm AMERICAN, dammit. And my attitude in reaction to your question is proving so! So ha!
oh wait...
i forgot...
I'm, like, 50% Canadian.
And I spent large, wonderful portions of my childhood playing on the beautiful shores of Lake Huron in Ontario, Canada in a unique cottage built by the hands of my own Grandfather.
Building bonfires and digging in sand. Combing the stream for clay and making disfigured figurines. Running up steep dirt roads and through massive cornfields. Sitting on my mom's lap and driving the minivan at 7mph. Being summoned from the lake by a cowbell and consuming deviled eggs and sandwiches and canadian sweet jam cookies. Playing shoots and ladders and being entertained by my Grandpa's (puppet) friend Peanutbutter while heart thumping thunderstorms swept trees and rocked the lake outside. Getting splinters in tree forts and poison ivy in the forest backyard. Befriending pigeons when my brothers went to camp. Drinking up sunsets. The smell of coffee and my Grandma in the morning.
I'm a lucky little part-Canadian with a mild accent groomed by the sweet summer breezes of Mckay's Gorgeous Gorge.

Sizzler

Sydney spring has broken
The sun sprinkles our skin with fresh bits of cinnamon
Time to strap on some dancing shoes
And rock this bitch.

Happy Birthday Brother

Meet Thom: Humanitarian of the Year....

Hardcore Badass...

Creator of all things Magical....

(Debatably) the cutest child in the family.

StonesThrow

i draw on concrete, your side and mine
step away and fall in time
and learn there's nothing to confine.
no graphite scribble barricades us
the line is merely what contains us--
the line does not exist.
yours is mine and mine so yours
but i miss it sometimes
i feel my sores
i see the walls of my own home
i know only my flesh, my own bones
they're separate here from yours in ink
but fences blur when we're in sync.
stones are stones and the throw seems distant
but i catch it on the other side.
i had it in my hands the entire time.
together we are apart these days
i wake up- sunrise- infant eyes
suddenly you're so far away
and i am all consuming.
I am sputtering and fuming
but neither one of us has signed the deal.
the contract in my hands isn't even real.
still.
i feel you
sunny sunday afternoons
distant coasts and crashing shores
waves lap from toes and cast the folds
the space it swells, contracts our cells
in cups of what our hearts can hold
the distance not so far as told
my mind and yours
your heart and ours
the same but for infinity.
waves lap and they begin again.

.April 2008.

Whatcha tryin to say Big Red?

*Ruby*
In the past week it has shown up in 2 dreams and 2 people.
Until this week, I'd never met somebody by that name.
Coincidence? Perhaps.
But mysterious signs are a lot more fun.

Open Road

OK so maybe I haven't listened to him since high school...
And maybe he looks like he's part-retarded and about to vomit when he sings.
Regardless-
I've been rockin some pretty hard John Mayer lately. (mmm.. pretty hard john mayer..)
What can I say?
I'm a sucker for acoustic guitar
And this song just fills me right to the brim.

Visions of jamming the proper Tom Petty version in a car speeding down broad American roads dance in my mind in all their cliche glory.
But until we meet again, I'll gladly make due on the chilled out highways and byways of OZ *wrong side and all*
(Above picture was taken between Byron Bay and Nimbin- Eastern Coast Australia)

Put this on repeat while we're at it:

Common Bonds

I have a confession. I have a fascination with a certain Australian product which I have been researching/admiring for the past several months.
This product- or line of products- is none other than Bonds Underwear.
Given the nature of my job, I see anywhere from 15-25 pairs of underwear (in use) a week.... after my first month working full time in this country, I couldn't help but notice that although I cater to a broad array of clientelle (men, women, children (!!) hippies, bankers, sophistocates (sophistocates??), students, grandmothers, sexy marathon runners- you name it, I touch it) the elastic "Bonds" marked rim circles nearly every belly and set of thighs I encounter. To spice up my "winter", I spent the month of June collecting statistical data on this matter. The results: 94% of people living in Australia (who also like to get massages) wear Bonds underwear.
94%!! Incredible!! Bonds are a national sensation!!
This data combined with the fact that I love new underwear and hadn't purchased any in MONTHS, led me to my nearest Target outlet where I was confounded by the selection. It turns out Bonds are a mid-range pair of knickers, affordable (and worth it) enough for those of lesser resources to partake, and high quality enough for the big-wigs out there to rely on as their old hold steady. And they do. They do hold it steady. (I'm told. I asked. It is part of my "data".)
I'm emerging into this new world from a long history with Victoria's Secret whose construction is, lets face it, shit. Victoria may boast a name synonymous with sexiness, but her "secret" happens to be that she is very poorly proportioned. I recall several girls in high school who appeared each day in carefully put together outfits, accessorized with a meter of bunched up panties bulging from their ass. Is Victoria's secret that her cheeks transcend the border between butt and back? Gross, Vickie. And not sexy. I avoided the bunched up ass-attack of the "rio brief" by supplying myself with the low-rise which, in an opposite manner, barely covers crack and holds too low at the legs.
"But she is Victoria!" I told myself. "She is hot pink and famous!! My preferences must be wrong! I must learn to prefer her and not for a second entertain the idea of shopping at somewhere like... like Target."
Poor me, I think. All the comfort I've been missing. Although I don't think America has a Bonds equivalent. Hanes couldn't possibly feel this wonderful. Even if Michael Jordan insists. (PS.. how did he make the decision to disappear COMPLETELY from public life except to show up in American living rooms in his whitey tighties in 30 second increments? Whattup MJ??)
Anyway.
Bonds.
They Are. Just. Right.
The range of colors and styles are enough to fill the entire wall of Target's (huge) "Intimate Wears" section.
I have taken to collecting these vibrant little ditties like pretty cotton flower petals that fill my drawers and strew themselves about my (our) laundry room. "BONDS" they say, every chance they get. Around the waist, across the ass. Metallic, rainbow, enbroidered, spelled out in vines. Lovely.
Men in Bonds: Sexy. (when not so small or bright that they belong at mardi gras)
Children in Bonds: Adorable.
That's just how I feel.
Anyway, What made me think of this was a recent CNN article titled:
"Australian Minister Resigns Over Semi-Naked Dance"
Of course, I read on.
Turns out he was drunk. (huge surprise there, Australia) and livin it up in his parliament house.
CNN tells us:
"The resignation came on the eve of an unsourced report in national newspaper The Australian that Brown danced in "very brief" underpants to techno music on a leather couch during a drunken late night party in his Parliament House office three months ago. He was then housing minister."
....sounds about right....
I'm willing to bet they were Bonds.



A side anecdote on Australian culture:
Wikipedia tells us about Bob Hawke, Australian Prime Minister in the 80's.
" His academic achievements were possibly outweighed by the notoriety he achieved as the holder of a world record for the fastest consumption of beer: a yard glass (approximately 3 imperial pints or 1.7 litres) in eleven seconds.[2] In his memoirs, Hawke suggested that this single feat may have contributed to his political success more than any other, by endearing him to a voting population with a strong beer culture.)"

1.7 LITERS?!? 11 seconds?! seriously. wow.

Pocket Of Light

Meet Jill Coleman- a documentary photographer from Zimbabwe who is currently roaming the streets of Chicago and capturing some of our finest. She calls herself "amateur" and I wonder what that makes me.- A child haphazardly holding a lensed device I think. I can only hope to be as amateur as her one day, with work so Honestly Beautiful.

See the light in everything; Put it in your pocket to share.

^ So Correctly Titled "Sweet Home Chicago"

^ I used to frequently see this woman on my way from Rogers Park to the Loop for school. She was prettymuch always juuust kiickin it as shown above.

^She has several photographs of this family in South Africa. I want to modify my genetics so as to produce an offspring that looks like the firecracker in flowers.

Her work can be found at:
http://www.jpgmag.com/people/sugarbird/page1

....Where's my ticket to Africa?

Je Suis

I have a serious sense of humor. A calm mind packed to the brim. I am a homebody whose home is everywhere. I adore routine but cannot live within one. I Love deeply but never on a whim. I crave sunshine and relish in rain. I speak in logic and play in crystals. Flourish in nature and live in the city. Was born in a blizzard and hate the cold. I like to pay for things but not with money. Full of aspirations but list no concrete plans. I hold on tight and flee. I'm eternally loyal but cannot be contained. I'm a lazy workaholic. I wear mascara to yoga. I hike for the pictures. I hug for the heartbeat. I jump when I'm stuck. I love words but hear better when we're silent. Enjoy rightnow but can't wait for the future. I want to look in your eyes and photograph them. I want to get in your head and write it. I want to see your soul and touch it. I share everything and give nothing away. I am here and I'm everywhere else. A priceless Price. An American Australian. A Capricorn on the Cusp. A traveler with an open ticket. A series of contradictions in a 5'5'' frame.

In Rainbows

Today I pulled a "sicky" and treated myself to a much needed 2nd day off *IN A ROW!*. The sky was threatening rain as I hopped on the bus to Coogee. No matter-- I needed the beach be it saturated in rain or not. I've been covering an extra shift at work and thus have found myself cooped up in Glebe for the greater part of 6 days a week. I love you Glebe, but not that much.
When I arrived and set up shop, the beach looked exactly how I felt:
sunny-cloudy-tumultuous----just-on-the-cusp-of-something...

**soundtrack for the day:




































words to be added tomorrow. rightnow its into a hot shower and off to bed with a smile and a freshly emptied head.