Clothes Made Out Of Curtains

After listening to the smooth vocal stylings of the one and only Desree for the past hour I find myself in a very optimistic mood. Seriously, you gotta be bad, you gotta be bold you gotta be wiser, genius.

So what to do now? When I sat turned on my trusty laptop after a dinner with the extended Italian family who had the crazy switched to high I had fully intended to let the fingers do the ranting. But now I’m completely mellow, I’ve lost the urge to vent my frustration about an uncle who’s attention seeking stupidity hit an all time high this evening when he arrived screaming obscenities at his wife and wearing an eye patch. My contentment in this moment is even preventing me from writing a self loathing post about my distain for headless store mannequins who are infinitely more attractive then me despite the rather obvious lack of a head.

So, in an homage to Julie Andrews and children wearing clothes made out of curtains, I’ve decided to tell you about a few of my favourite things. First and foremost I love Julie Andrews and the word ‘homage’.

My favourite place to be, despite my very limited experience of the world, is Melbourne. I can’t get enough of it and would never live anywhere else. And to those who say I need to experience more before I make that judgement I say this- I didn’t need a vagina to tell me I was gay. I never get bored of wandering through the city discovering new favourite things down ally ways behind Chinese restaurants, racking up credit card debt buying clothes I clearly cant afford, or finding comfy spot to sit and watch the people pass by. We have the best live music scene in the country, the best restaurants in the country and we host the most public, cultural and sporting events- oh and we have Lord Mayor John So.

I really love late night phone conversations with Mona when we are both able to switch off the ‘I hate my life’ section of our brains. During these conversations we can solve all the problems of the world, last Thursday we wrapped up the whole climate change situation in about 20 minutes. This week we’ll tackle peace in the Middle East. Within the confines of these conversations we are also able to tell completely inappropriate and offensive jokes without fear of retribution or judgment. Simply because she knows it bugs me Mona will refer to Julie Andrews as a filthy slut and in return I’ll refer to Mona’s future children as veil wearing religious zealots.

Music is obviously one of my favourite things. I love walking down the street with my headphones in, pretending that I have control over the soundtrack to my life with my trusty iPod in hand. One of my best memories from my U.S holiday- a smile I couldn’t control was plastered on my face as I strolled through Central Park on the clearest New York morning with Stevie Wonder’s ‘Higher Ground’ blaring in my ears. Even without the overblown New York cliché the right song at the right moment can shift my mood from, ‘I want to rip your eyeballs out and use them for Martini olives’ to ‘Lets do tequila shots and dance.’

Going out for breakfast on a Sunday morning always makes me smile, until about 2 hours later when I’m usually hunched over holding my stomach and wishing that I didn’t order the big breakfast with extra bacon and hash browns plus a side of cholesterol. Despite the pain that comes along with my regular order I will no doubt continue to do the same thing every time.

Ok, I thought I could go on and on about my favourite things, but unfortunately all this happiness is starting to freak me out. I’m going to watch some late night televangelists talk about opening my black heart and accepting Jesus into my life. That should get me back to a more normal state of contempt and irrational anger.

Peace be with you.