Some mysteries (PM)

Wow! I have always wondered about that building! Thanks mate. I'd like to enlighten y'all about a bunch of stuff too and I thought I'd be able to because I'm staying at a hotel that was alleged to have wifi. Turns out that in the desert those are just words with no meaning and I'm spending what is likely thousands of dollars on data roaming just to  say this hi. By Thursday I will be in NYC where the wifi comes free and easy. Amen.

Also I'm so sorry if this post is in comic sans. 

Some mysteries (AM)

Who has driven past this building before?

Hang on a second. You might not recognise it from that picture.
What about this one:

You know it, right? It's the Mission to Seafarers on Flinders Street, way up the end past Spencer Street. You know, near Bunjil.

Bunjil. 

Anyway, everyone has driven past it millions of times and wondered what it is, especially that domey bit. It was one of life's mysteries, like what a baby pigeon looks like and where they are all hiding.  (Seriously, where are they?) I read an article about this building once and discovered that it was some sort of club for people who sail the seven seas. A place for seamen to go when they are in port. And one of the rooms has a dome! It became less of a mystery, but my curiosity remained.
On Saturday, I had the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity because of this Open House thing they do these days.
I headed there on my bike because god know where the eff you could park around there. I joined the queue out the front and at this point, was feeling pretty excited. While waiting in the queue I read the reading paraphernalia they were handing out. Turns out the domed room used to be a gym. An old school gym for the seamen. How do you like that! After about ten minutes they let me in and all sense of mystery/curiosity/interest waned. It is basically like an RSL. And the domed room is like the hall in the RSL, but with a domed roof and a lot of paintings of ships. I can imagine the gym that they might have had in there back in the day and gee, it does not make me want to work out. It makes me want to walk out. Ha! But seriously folks. I had an ok time wandering around the place, but I think I preferred it when it was a mystery and I could imagine it being extremely great.

Another mystery you may be wondering about is why MSC was silent on Thursday, and then half appeared on Saturday. I guess there's no one single reason, but here are some of the factors that influenced it:

• J is in the Northern Hemisphere with sporadic internet access
• K (that's me) is in the Southern Hemisphere with sporadic access to her (my) brain
• K didn't look at MSC over the weekend and didn't realise that J had posted until THIS MORNING but had already decided to write about the Mission to Seafarers and couldn't back down
• There are probably some other reasons too but none of them spring to mind. 

Stream of hdklg fjnzm,ds./ b (AM)

****^sorry guys!!!!! I thought I published this on Thursday! My bad!*******
You know how sometimes you have a thought and first, before the thought is fully formed, there is a little deformed pre-thought, a hint of the thought, and when the thought is finally formed you realise how deformed that initial pre-formed thought was? You know?

Like, today I thought about writing stream of consiousness style. But for some reason the initial pre-formed and pretty deformed thought had me unconcsiously imagine that my stream of consciousness would look like this: nebskJLRDThlkd dszuidFHndbms  nsmd,f gdFsaiBKH. You know, more face-plant writing than stream of concsiousness writing. Rather than putting down thoughts as they happen, stream of consciousness-style, in my split-second preformed though, this idea just meant mashing the keyboard. Yeah, two different things. I know. And yet, I think perhaps it is a little bit telling of the state of my brain right now. Tired, generally somewhat incoherent. My brain basically is like a keyboard mash. When I though stream of concsiousness, I liked the idea of things just coming out - and ideally being great. Plus, if it was actually like face-plant or keyboard mash writing it would be so easy, but, you know, pretty nonsensical.

I tell you what, how about we wait until I have been northside (of the equator) a little longer and I have wifi on tap and then I will give you something good. Thanks for understanding guys!

California Love (PM)

Wondering why there were all those CENSOREDs in this morning's post? Well, before J left for California yesterday morning, she texted me to tell me that she had finished her post for today. So yesterday afternoon, while putting off hanging out a load of washing (which I had only done int he first place so I could put off going to the gym) I checked J's post, thinking I too would get a jump start on writing mine.

Like I imagine you guys feel, I felt a mix of happiness and terrible, terribly envy. So much so that I needed to take a minute. But then, when I came back to it and kept reading, I chuckled and shook my head as I realised that J was so excited about her holiday she had accidentally used LB and Baby's REAL NAMES when describing what she will be doing today! Ha! She is so excited. It's very sweet. Anyway, I censored them instead of changing them because I thought we should remember what's it's like to be so excited about a holiday. Have a nice time Matey.

California Love (AM)

So, I hate to break this to you, but as you read this, probably on a cold winter’s morning, I’m enjoying my first hot LA night. I hope you can just be happy for me and are not feeling bad. Especially given what I am going to tell you next. Look, I hate to ruin the magic of the internet here, but I did not write these words today. No, sometimes... sometimes a blog post is written in advance. I’m sorry. Feel free to take a minute.

You may be at work, or somewhere else. It may be cold. Might be raining. Who knows. And given this is pre-written I don’t really know what it’s like where I am either. What I do know is that the forecast for LA was 80  with a low of 64. Whatever the hell that means! Just jokes, I have checked and it means that it will have a high of 26 and a low of 18! Um, that sounds pretty good to me. It’s likely that I will be one of three things, I reckon. 1) Passed out, jet-lagged; 2) eating a burrito  and drinking beer with CENSORED and Mondonna while CENSORED sleeps; or 3) drinking beer and eating a burrito with CENSORED dazzled with Mondonna’s hot LA lifestyle while she is off somewhere doing something hot, as Ari cries with delirium after hours on a plane and a hemisphere shift demanding miracles from his body clock that he cannot even begin to understand. Fingers crossed it’s option 2.

I was feeling a bit uneasy about this trip for a while, but then I organised accommodation and got a little excited. And then one week ago, I heard a plane overhead. It was loud and I looked up and it was flying quite low. The sky was full of clouds and I looked away for a minute, looked back up and the plane was gone. I could still hear it. It was still there, and then it emerged from the clouds, making them look wispy around it and I could imagine descent vividly. You know, when you are coming in to land and you can feel the plane descending, you fly through clouds, then clear sky then clouds again. You can see the city below. It’s so exciting. So I started to get excited. Oh and remember Saturday? How it was so wet and cold. Yeah, I got real excited. But I don't you guys to miss pout on the California love. C'mon, let's all enjoy it!

Miss Soft Crab is bi-doona-curious (PM)

Did you know that Russeth told me the other day that Doona is actually a brand name! Who knew?!
Also, look what I just learned on Wikipedia: "The term "duvet day" is used in some countries to describe an allowance of one or more days a year when employees can simply phone in and say that they are not coming in to work, even though they have no leave booked and are not ill. The provision of this benefit became fashionable in the late 1990s with many larger companies in the UK."

Mind=blown! But my mind's approach to the bi-doona lifestyle is more complicated,
 
When K first mentioned this double doona situation in passing last week I pretty much dismissed it straight away. Ok, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't wonder about it a little, but I thought it would not be for me. You know, the faultline. How do you manage that? Weirdly, my mum who was in a different part of Europe to K but at the same, mentioned to me that they started personalising doonas in Poland where she'd never seen it before. Other parts of Europe, too.  She told me it was great, but this is a lady that's been married for about a million years, maybe she likes sticking to her side of the bed. Maybe  an arm getting cold if she slings it over her partner isn't an issue. But me, that's what I thought about. What if I want to cuddle my boyfriend. Surely I'd risk cold body parts or doubling doona coverage, making excess heat. So many potential problems. But I guess it would be a lie to say I wasn't a little bi-doona curious. I like how when it is cold sharing a doona means there is twice the body heat in there. But I guess I don't like how if your body is running at a differ temperature to your bedfellow it can cause all sorts of coverage issue. I also don't like how if you have a small child in your bed who sleeps between his parents and he seems to get hot he wants to kick all the doona off leaving the tops of his parents cold and frustrated. #justsaying

So I guess right there are a couple of issues the old bi-doona situation could solve. I don't know if I could ever really get leave a single big doona lifestyle, but I wouldn't be afraid to experiment a little. I wouldn't be ashamed of it either.

Miss Soft Crab is bi-doona-curious (AM)

When I was in Iceland, I stayed in a very cute apartment I found on airbnb. It was someone's actual home, and so operated like a proper Scandinavian home,  by which I mean you have to take your shoes off inside and there are individual doonas on the double beds. This is what a Scandinavian bed looks like.

Personalised doonas. His and hers. Or hers and hers. Or his and his. Miss Soft Crab supports everyone's life choices.

From the first, I was pretty sceptical. Sure, it looks pretty. And I like the idea of never having to wake up shivering because a squeeze has thrown the bed covers off because he is too hot, causing me to be exposed to the elements like so much sleepy collateral damage. I like the idea of that.

But how the heck are you supposed to cuddle under there? That line down the middle looked to me like a giant faultline that would surely break apart every time someone rolled over or went for a bit of a nuzzle or whatever people do in their bedrooms (it's up to you guys and I don't ask questions and I support all lifestyles, providing no one is getting hurt). It looked to me like the this situation would lead to a more draughty bedtime, and that's not cool. That's not cool at all.

I climbed in on the first night expecting to hate it.
But  much like taking your shoes off indoors, it all just seems to work. I don't know how or why exactly. I mean, I'm not a scientist. I don't know how two doonas side by side manage to pretty much stay together when you move around, despite the giant faultline that runs down the middle. But I don't know how most things work and it's a state I'm pretty used to. All I know is that I don't think I experienced a single draught while I was there, and for that, I say tusen takk Scandinavia. Tusen takk.

I was trying to explain it to J last night and I'm not sure I convinced her. Let's see what she has to say in the PM, shall we? 

An open letter to drivers (PS/PM)

Oh, Drivers.

It’s complicated, isn’t it? Like, it is great how you let people merge in front of you sometimes and go quickly through a green arrow light sometimes so more people can get through. But sometimes you don’t do those things. And sometimes you crowd a keep clear zone so people can’t get through like they should be able to. And I’ll be honest, I’m not perfect. I’ve probably done some of those things from time to time. But I’m trying not to. Really. I mean, that is what relationships are about, you know? Compromise. And having a good time. But do we even have that any more, Drivers?

Tell you something else, Drivers. I drive down K’s street sometimes. You know when? When I’m visiting her. Or picking her up. Or dropping her off. You know when else I do it? NEVER! ‘Cause it is too effing narrow to waste my time with that shit! But enough of that. This isn’t about the he said, she said bullshit. It’s about trying to right wrongs, you know? I mean, if you do live in that street you may well have driven past me doing a 300-point turn in the driveway across the road from K’s because she is so close to the end I always need to get back to and there is no way I’m driving down the length of that mother effing street just to end up further from home and on Sydney Road. So I do my several-point turn, sometimes hold up traffic. Have you cursed me? Perhaps. Thanks for your patience, though. I really appreciate it! But if you don’t live in that street and curse me as you wait till I can finally clear that driveway, safe from damaging cars and death, if you are using that street as something to drive down to get from A to B when neither A nor B are on that street, well, well ... pretty fucking please with a cherry on top, drive down another street.

Thanks
Love
J

An open letter to drivers (AM)

Dear drivers,
I would like to begin by saying that I really enjoy sharing the road with you. So often you let me in to your lane when you really don't have to. So often, when facing a right-hand turning arrow, you are quick off the mark when the lights change, so I can go through after you. So often you exit parking spaces just when I want to be entering them. Most of the time you are pleasure to drive alongside, you really are, and I just want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you've done for me.
But, to those of you who drive down my street, the narrowest street in all of the 3056, a street where there is insufficient room for two cars travelling in opposite directions to pass one another safely thereby requiring one of us to yield in an game of chicken that no one knows they are playing or how to play it,  a street that runs between Sydney Road and Lygon Street and therefore seems like a good idea to drive down but in fact is a street that is two-way in name only, I have a message especially for you. If you are not driving down my street because you either live on my street (hello neighbour!) or have business on my street (such as you are visiting the gym Fit Rig aka the rape gym), then stop fucking driving down my fucking street.
There is a thin asphalt line on my street that runs between order and total fucking anarchy, and every time you drive down my street you punch a hole in that line. I live on my street. I have to be there. But not you. Not you guys. So stay the fuck off my street, pretty fucking please with a cherry on top.
Love,
K

What I almost learned this week (PM)

Yeah, I don't know much about capsaicin, but I know what I like. And that's foodstuffs that give me a physical sensation beyond taste. Who wants to just chew a bunch of stuff and taste a bunch of flavours when you can also experience the thrill of heat all up in your mouth. And nose, if you're eating hot english mustard or wasabi. It's like you're eating with your whole face and if it's a choice between mouth eating and face eating, make mine face every time!

As for menses, my main PMS symptom is that I become very very clumsy. I drop stuff all the time and I trip over constantly. So I guess you could say that I do become a little unbalanced. LITERALLY! Ha. 

Also, my ability to navigate which is meagre at the best of times disappears completely. It's like the bermuda triangle in here (I'm pointing at my head)... all my internal navigational instruments go crazy and if my iphone isn't working, I basically just wander around, following the sun. Sucks to be a chick, as usual. 

What I almost learned this week (AM)

This week I decided I wanted the answers to questions I had often pondered. Like “Could this sore throat and snotty nose that totally seems related to my menstrual cycle really be PMS?” and “Is chilli addictive? 'Cause I gotsta get me some.”

According to some websites “Yes, peppers are addictive. Peppers contain capsaicin, a natural chemical that sends a burning sensation from the nerve endings in the mouth to the brain. The body defends itself against this pain sensation by secreting endorphins, natural painkillers that cause a physical "rush" - a high that keeps us coming back for more.” (Statement 1). But according to the Guardian, “Capsaicin, the compound that provides the mouth-watering punch of chillies, does not seem to have any addictive qualities whatsoever.” (Statement 2). I guess Statement 2 does not actually contradict Statement 1. It’s just that the idiot that wrote Statement 1 was an idiot. Chillies probably aren’t addictive but maybe the body’s response is?

On a side note I actually saw Statement 1 repeated almost word for word on more than one website. usually with many typos and bad punctuations. So let me make it unmistakably clear that Statement 1 is the viewpoint of a bunch of other people that I do not necessarily hold to be true. Or not true. Also, the Wikipedia page for ‘chili pepper’ says nothing about addiction. And  you know my position, if it’s not on Wikipedia it doesn’t exist. Ipso facto, I just really like chilli. Wikipedia, does however say that “Psychologist Paul Rozin suggests that eating chillis is an example of a "constrained risk" like riding a roller coaster, in which extreme sensations like pain and fear can be enjoyed because individuals know that these sensations are not actually harmful. This method lets people experience extreme feelings without any risk of bodily harm.” The thrill! The addiction of the thrill!!!

As for PMS, the internet was similarly useless on this point! Although when I typed in the search for "PMS flu-like symptoms", there were a ton of results, they were all useless. At first, I was delighted that there were so many results, but nothing really gave me solid answers. Though thanks to things like the Kotex period forum page I know I’m not alone. Or it is suggested that I am not alone, because I can’t imagine that anyone but the Kotex marketing team is writing on that message board. So, I went over to Wikipedia, natch. And I learned that: a) if you don’t have actual emotional symptoms you don’t have PMS!; and b) there is an increase in probability of attempting suicide during the menses of  1.68! WHOA! Sucks to be a chick! As usual!

Awkward (PM)

You have nothing to be ashamed of Mate.  If a Dentist or other service provider is going to play the frequent use of the first name game, they'd best be sure they've got the right first name. It's the only rule of that game. So if they can't figure out how to interpret information in their own patient management software, then shame on THEM.

Now, on to dime store hookers.  I don't think they are a thing, but a dime store hoods are a thing.
I know this because in Stand By Me, Will Wheaton (as Gordy Lachance) says to Kiefer Sutherland "Suck my fat one you cheap dime store hood", and then River Phoenix says "Who ever told you you had a fat one Lachance?!" to which he replies "Biggest one in four counties" and they all laugh and smile because they know it is a summer they will never forget. Except we the audience don't laugh because we know that River Phoenix died.

Kiefer Sutherland is a cheap dime store hood.

River Phoenix died of lung cancer. 

Awkward (AM)

Like the actor Aaron Paul, from the smash hit series Breaking Bad, my surname is a common first name. And like Aaron Paul my surname is common for people of my sex. As such sometimes people that get an email from me or have a file on me or something call me by my surname. I wonder if that happens to Aaron Paul. Who knows? Turns out he has an actual different surname and Paul was originally his middle name. So if it does happen to him, I have no sympathy. Anyway, sometimes I correct people. You know, if I am going to have some kind of relationship with them. Or if it is convenient. Or if they seem like an idiot and I feel like highlighting that fact. But sometimes I just let it go. You know? Like if I'm never going to see then again or if I can't be bothered. I mean, who gives a shit. I know who I am!

You know what's awkward though? If someone calls you the wrong name and you don't correct them and then they keep calling you that. Sometimes, if it happens a couple of times I decide I have to correct them, but now and again it gets out of hand, too far and you just can't correct them anymore. And sometimes it is physically impossible. 

Like the dentist I started seeing recently (in a strictly professional sense) called me by my surname recently, let's say I'm Aaron Paul and she thought I was a man named "Paul". I've seen this dentist a few times in the last few months getting some muffffillings done and the way my name comes up on her computer screen is surname, first name. I assume it is the same for everyone. In the past it hasn't been a problem, she read it right, called me J, or, for consistency, "Aaron". But last week I go in, settle into the chair, she says, "Ok Paul, open your mouth." I figure it's a one time thing and that I'll correct her when I have the chance or she'll figure it out. Then she anaesthetises my gums sticks in her instruments and doesn't remove them for 20 minutes, saying things at frequent intervals like, "How you going Paul?", "You're doing really well, Paul", "Not long now Paul." WTF? How can I say anything? Literally!? What made it even more awkward was that her assistant, who was in the room, had called me on the phone just minutes before I arrived because I was a little late and had called me by my actual name! So there we all were, the dentist with her hands in my gob calling me by my surname as if it was my first name, me  unable to correct her, the assistant unwilling. Awkward, you guys, real awkward.

Eventually I thought, well, this dentist is a real name user so after this filling nightmare is over she will no doubt call me the wrong name again and I will set her straight, laugh it off, tell her it happens all the time. But IT NEVER HAPPENED! Once my teeth were filled she didn't call me anything. Just said goodbye and hustled me out the door like some dime store hooker.* And I couldn't just take it upon myself to tell her, apropos of nothing (except the preceding 20 minutes), that my name was J, or Aaron**. Do you know what it's like when you've got a numb face, have just spent 20 minutes with someone drilling, and fumbling in your wide open mouth while calling you the wrong name, and then have to walk out into the cold dark night? Degrading guys! It's effing degrading. So I just let the charade linger. Awkward you guys! Awkward!

*That's not a thing is it?
**This pseudonym thing is confusing.

Here I come (PM)

Oh, geez. I wonder what happened to that bollard. I hope he feels better soon.

Well, Mate, your European holiday looks and sounds beautiful. Those swans! Forget about it! And Iceland. Whoa!

But Melbourne has nice things like friends. And beautiful wintery parklands.

The last vestiges of autumn.

Maybe if you are lucky I will even cook you a delicious meal.

Wait does this sound familiar? 

In truth, it's pretty unlikely I'll cook you a meal, because in 3 weeks I’m heading to the North American summer. Where I will be seeing things like this:

And eating things like this:

Yeah, USA, here I come!

Here I come (AM)

I'm in London for a very last hurrah before flying home on Tuesday. 

When I walked past this bollard on Regents Canal today I thought 'I know how you feel, sad bollard'.

Being in Melbourne will be so great, but boy oh boy will I miss being on a European holiday. 

I will miss people calling icy poles 'iced lollies'. I will miss seeing a bunch of Danes facilitate a swan family's road crossing over 40 minutes (I'm not kidding) in Copenhagen.

I will miss taking bike rides in the forest. 

I know I've told you about it before but gee it was a goos day and I really will miss doing that.

I will miss pulling over by the side of the road in Iceland and seeing stuff like this:

Just by the side of the road. It's not even a place of note! It's just what Iceland looks like! 

I will miss all the good eating. So much good eating. But sheesh, the kind of unbridled consumption I've enjoyed over the last few weeks can't continue if I want to meet my baggage allowance. No sirree. 

And home...I goddamned love that place. So that will be pretty effing nice. So see you soon people.