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For my next trick
Dec. 19th, 2011 11:41 pmThis evening I went downstairs to put my rubbish out for collection, and when I came back up there was a note taped to my front door from my neighbour, pointedly requesting that I put my rubbish out every week, as I had missed last week.
(Let the jury please remember that last Monday night I had just been discharged from hospital and wasn't actually thinking about whether it was a recycle week or not.)
So I went in my flat and scribbled a quick and hopefully not too passive-agressive message on the back of the note, thanking her for the reminder and explaining I'd been sick and wishing her a happy holidays.
I step out across the landing to tape it to her door,
and my front door blows shut behind me.
WHO DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN TO?
Luckily Eris and her dad live just around the corner from me, so I toddled over there in my t-shirt with no bra under it and pants and no shoes (at this point I was just grateful that I was wearing pants for this malarkey). Some dudes in a car going past yelled out, because apparently there is literally no level of casualwear too casual for hooning at.
Eris's dad drove around to Erinna's to pick up her spare key to my place, and I sat and watched Black Books with Eris. Black Books was the first show I watched after moving to Melbourne, on my first night in my first sharehouse back in 2003. It still feels a little strange to me that the strong-willed little Eris-toddler I met then is now this strong-willed little Eris-preteen with a brilliant creative mind and a kind of morbid sense of taste. The passing of time is wacky.
Anyway I am now safely ensconced in my flat once again, and the moral of this story is: never engage in a note-war with your neighbour because nobody is going to emerge the winner and you might have to walk around in bare feet when you want to be on the internet. Or possibly the story is that my friends put up with way too much vague airhead bullshit from me.
--
In other news, Mixtape is now in paperback for those who want a hard copy. Could people who have read it please please please leave an Amazon review? My publisher is really keen to get as many up there as possible. It would mean a bunch to me.
I'm still so blown away that people are being so kind about it. I thought for sure this would be the awkward duckling nobody liked. I'm overwhelmed.
--
And lastly, here is a picture of Mindless Self Indulgence with Insane Clown Posse
Now your life is richer.
(Let the jury please remember that last Monday night I had just been discharged from hospital and wasn't actually thinking about whether it was a recycle week or not.)
So I went in my flat and scribbled a quick and hopefully not too passive-agressive message on the back of the note, thanking her for the reminder and explaining I'd been sick and wishing her a happy holidays.
I step out across the landing to tape it to her door,
and my front door blows shut behind me.
WHO DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN TO?
Luckily Eris and her dad live just around the corner from me, so I toddled over there in my t-shirt with no bra under it and pants and no shoes (at this point I was just grateful that I was wearing pants for this malarkey). Some dudes in a car going past yelled out, because apparently there is literally no level of casualwear too casual for hooning at.
Eris's dad drove around to Erinna's to pick up her spare key to my place, and I sat and watched Black Books with Eris. Black Books was the first show I watched after moving to Melbourne, on my first night in my first sharehouse back in 2003. It still feels a little strange to me that the strong-willed little Eris-toddler I met then is now this strong-willed little Eris-preteen with a brilliant creative mind and a kind of morbid sense of taste. The passing of time is wacky.
Anyway I am now safely ensconced in my flat once again, and the moral of this story is: never engage in a note-war with your neighbour because nobody is going to emerge the winner and you might have to walk around in bare feet when you want to be on the internet. Or possibly the story is that my friends put up with way too much vague airhead bullshit from me.
--
In other news, Mixtape is now in paperback for those who want a hard copy. Could people who have read it please please please leave an Amazon review? My publisher is really keen to get as many up there as possible. It would mean a bunch to me.
I'm still so blown away that people are being so kind about it. I thought for sure this would be the awkward duckling nobody liked. I'm overwhelmed.
--
And lastly, here is a picture of Mindless Self Indulgence with Insane Clown Posse
Now your life is richer.