Friday, May 22, 2009

tattoos, coffee and sad goodbyes

031 By time I’m 31, I would like to be married. In fact, it’s a nice looking age for baby number one. Do you think I am pushing it?

032 Tattoo count. Zero. I have nothing against tattoos. In fact I am quite fond of those which tell a story of significance. I briefly considered getting inked many years ago but wasn’t inspired enough by potential designs. Now that I am past that phase, I am glad. With the number of people sporting tattoos these days, I believe not having one is just as much of a statement.

033 I wanted to live in Angel (London) before I had ever seen it. Angelic in her own right, my friend lived in Angel a few years ago and I just loved the idea residing in a place with such a name. Now I live here, I love it. It no longer belongs before jail on the monopoly board. I wish, only for my rent’s sake, it did.

034 Aside from London, I have lived in Wagga Wagga, Norfolk, Canberra, Townsville and the Gold Coast. All had their pros and cons. Some more than others. I could easily live on the Gold Coast again. It gets a bad rap (and I know Siamese Saffron is cringing) but I can hardly fault it. Sun, sand and surf. A café culture which kept me well caffeine-ed. Brisbane an hour to my left and Byron Bay and hour to my right. Apart from all the yucky personal stuff which went down there, it was a pretty sweet time.

035 Speaking of caffeine, coffee with friends is one of life’s simple pleasures. Flat white is my coffee of choice. I just don’t need all that froth and I most certainly prefer my coffee in ceramic as opposed to glass. Brits don’t do flat whites. It’s not a huge deal but I do miss them. Lattes fill the void reasonably when well made. I have recently converted to soy milk. When I am naughty I indulge in a little vanilla. The organic café around the corner from work has vanilla soy. It makes me happy.

dear england. make it happen.

036 I am not wearing stockings today. It’s the first time since October that I haven’t worn stockings to work. The sun is glorious. My legs feel liberated.

037 Maths came much more naturally to me than English at high school. This presented a slight problem because I loved English and hated maths. I think my teachers had a bit to do with that. I put so much more effort into English and, in the end, my results indicated that. I was not born to be a writer. I turned myself into one.

038 I so vividly remember kneeling over the back of the couch, head underneath the curtain, looking out the window and crying as I watched dad drive away. Moments before he had told me, for the first time, he wasn’t going to live with us anymore.

039 Dad left us a number of times. I always think it was six times but I have a feeling it’s more like four or five. Doesn’t really matter I guess. I only remember one other time as clearly as the first. It might have been the last but again, I can’t be sure. This time dad left mum to break the news. He had left overnight. I knew as soon as she sat us down. I started crying. One of my sisters, who would probably have been six, laughed at me for crying. I erupted. I think that might have been when I built the wall. A brief 18 years later, I’m working on pulling it down.

040 There’s a post-it on my computer which says ‘UNCROSS YOUR LEGS’. My legs are currently crossed.


The Novelista Barista said...

Love ur survey btw hahah

jax said...

do you know eddie? if not...

Fiona said...

There is apparently an Australian coffee place somewhere around the Covent Garden or maybe even Soho area that does flat whites. I will do some research and see if I can uncover where exactly.

Fiona said...

That was easier than I thought

It's in Soho. Berwick St.

Kirsty said...

why uncross your legs?

jax said...

fear of varicose veins

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