Canberra is freezing, and filled with wine. and dancing.
Curt Livingston, I eat souls [Tony Abbott] (2010).
tony abbott makes me feel a little ill
he looks like a shark. he says stupid things.
sometimes I forget that I lived at a boarding school. I did. for two years. I went to an all-girls school that is only possibly the most prestigious in the country, but certainly the closest to parliament. and it was exactly as oppressive and dark and gothic as you’d like to imagine, and with as many semi-naked late-night pillow fights.
the experience provided me with little that was particularly lasting or didactic. (which is largely due to my willful aversion to it.) but it did begin my succession of Totally Rubbish Birthdays, which is topical. and I recollect three events that were probably character building.
on being a grown up (of sorts)
I am a library kind of person. I am crushed about leaving work, and that I might never again spend nerdy evenings flicking through current serial issues in the comfort of its reading rooms.
so it seens moving away from Canberra means more than having to find a new favourite weatherman and re-establishing myself as hipster elite. I must also take leave of my favourite institution and familiarise myself with its kind-of-inferior local alternative.
I am certain that the State Library of Victoria must have an extensive and engaging collection of serials, including my usuals (New Scientist and the Economist and Asian Geographic). but. I can’t imagine feeling comfortable and intellectually stimulated. in a building where the wireless signal is rubbish and the air-conditioning might be turned off and where there are so many people, and all so close to me that I can smell their bodies all up in my air.
perhaps this is one of those ‘city’ things that I’ll have to deal with.
in the meantime, I have visited a ‘newsagent’ to get a fix of my number one and number two sources of interesting/novel/inane trivia. which (from Wednesday) I can enjoy from the comfort of my own home.
fuck, I’m good to me.