Another year of not being dead

I turned 18.

Kind of a big deal since everything happens at 18 here. Drinking, driving (not at the same time, you terrible people), voting (!!!), booking aeroplane seats... The whole box and dice. Above, you see me at 12.01 AEST on 5th January with an unrealistically delicious margarita. It was still well above 30 then, so here I am, sweating like some kind of farm animal. (D'you like my sunburnt nose?)




Things improved rather dramatically with the arrival of my birthday present about eight hours later. Naturally, my birthday outfit featured my beautiful birthday earrings (care of G, who took the picture at midnight and who is going to be the world's fiercest criminal law barrister) (not barista, let's get that straight) and the kimono I got in London (of course! Not Japan!).

Anyway, this is the camera you remember from my resolutions post. I think it takes a nice picture; but what do I know? I'm still trying to figure out how to turn my ISOs on.

The day was picnic-perfect! My 'burb has some lovely botanic gardens so we set up under the mallorn Party Tree golden elm, my favourite of all trees (fun fact!) to spend a solid five hours counting Daniels and eating an inordinate amount of rice paper wraps. I don't think I could have asked for a better group (maybe a few much-missed additions!). These girls are so intelligent and thoughtful and hilarious, and I'm so thrilled that they were there to celebrate with me. They deserve -- I don't know -- individual opal mines. Profitable ones. That and more.

We invested some serious time in making faces... (as usual)...

Eventually, though, we headed off. I spent my time inhaling a Pine-Lime Splice (God's gift to the world of frozen dairy products) and lying face-down on my bed, asleep, to recharge for dinner at Dig a Pony. It managed to fulfil my Beatles and Latino quotas. I'm very impressed.

Plus, it's in Yarraville, which is like Williamstown's cool older cousin. Remember the one you had who you considered murdering for her hair crimper? Yarraville. Had Zoolander on VHS? Yarraville. Inflatable clear-blue plastic couch? Yarraville.

I was a bit busy with merry-making and mishearing dishes (those things above are not called "Fish Parts", as it turns out) to take anything much, but rest assured that I had a beautiful evening to cap off a gorgeous day. And I'm not sad it's over, because now I get to do lots of fun things like getting a pentagram tattooed on my forehead. Adult life is looking good.