Notes for a song

Month: January, 2012


I’m going to Frankston today, I’m excited. I’m almost skipping along to my ipod shuffle as I enter Parliament station. I make my way over to the ticketing booth where the attendant calls me “Sweetie”. I feel a pang for New York. He then informs me on the weekend you don’t need to purchase a zone 2 ticket. He is my new favourite person.

On the train, I set myself up with novel, ipod shuffle, water, notebook and pen all within reach. It’s like I’m going to another world, even though I used to do longer train rides from Croton to Grand Central every day. I try counting the stations until I fall asleep. We pull into Frankston at 11am.

On my way out of the train station I spot two tweens in immaculate Clueless getup, complete with mini backpacks and mary janes. Rats, I think as I see them heading to the Savers. Oh well, they are both much tinier than me.

The Savers seems no better than the ones in the city, but Frankston provides the early riser with an abundance of smaller church thrift stores down little lanes and back alleys.

Unfortunately, all the skinny jeans are all too big for me and the ones that fit are all bootcut, but I do find a pair of lime green capris I figure I can dye later. I find an arts and crafts store that sells iDye (from the Apple domestic products line?). This new-fangled dye can actually be popped right into your washing machine – a bit risky when you have housemates. I pocket some for three times the price of the capris and decide it’s time to head home.

It’s not until halfway through the train ride home – somewhere around Mentone – that I notice the photo of the naked woman on the cover of my novel.

I hope the kindly old ladies sitting across from me don’t think I’m reading porn.


Birthday song

(Written 2 days ago)


It’s my birthday and I’ll wear green suede if I want to

or gold lamé if I want to

Drink champagne if I want to

feed my brain if I want to

I’ll cut up my tee if I want to

hug a tree if I want to

watch D. Abbey if I want to

dance to B if I want to

stay out till 3 if I want to

It’s my brithday and I’ll dream if I want to

eat fresh cream if I want to

forget sunscreen if I want to


Things I enjoyed yesterday…

(…but didn’t have time to type up until now)

1. Tram lit. Top picks: Leo Tolstoy, Truman Capote, Doris Lessing and Maya Angelou
2. A slight sprinkling of rain on my hot head
3. Deep Spring’s effervescence prickling my tongue
4. Fluffy hair. Who says hair’s meant to be smooth? That’s just a lie invented to sell conditioner
5. Chicks as white as me make pretty glam rappers
6. Picking up a perfect black silk tee at the Salvos

Pass the parcel

For my secret santa this year, I made a pass the parcel game. It’s simple really, homemade, and involves recycling. Which is a good combo when choosing a secret santa gift.
Take an old newspaper. Wrap up some sweet prize in the middle. Put a tiny treat in between the layers.
But there’s a twist – add a challenge written on coloured card. The player can only enjoy their treat once they’ve completed the challenge.
“Convince another player to exchange an item of clothing with you. Make them believe the change is permanent.”
“Sing or hum the chorus to a Beyonce song.”
“Count to ten in a language other than English.”
“Perform a scene of high drama that concludes with you storming out of the room.”
Ideally, players would be slightly lubricated before the game commences.

A limp

Today I am walking around with a limp

because I stood on some glass

on NYE

actually, I smashed the glass

Then I stood on some

I was drunk

Now I have an awesome gangster gait

and people keep offering me sympathy

and I’m pretty sure the cut’s not infected.

So, I win.