Show me the mula

Another thing. I think I've established by now that, despite all my very best intentions, I just can't escape my innate miseryguts... ness... and all I can do is accept it and try not to be too moany. I will never have a pastel-coloured, charming blog; nor will I be deep and significant. My doom is to be flippant and jaded. I'm just too goddamn Australian.

Which is why I'm unashamed to present the pinnacle of Western literature, the meeting-place of many great minds: the indescribably sensational and regrettably literal sh*thole that is the Flinders Str Station bathrooms. Known widely as the worst in the city, they're my only option at that lolly-shop job you're acquainted with; and, since I take at least four bathroom breaks a shift to segment the monotony, they're something I've had to come to terms with. Naturally, much like Lizzie for Mr. Darcy, my hatred turned to passionate love. I want to share the enlightening things I've read there for two reasons, the first being that they deserve it. They're masterpieces. The second is that I want you to never have to go there yourselves. These bathrooms are disgusting.

Here's a selection of the best to enjoy in the comfort of your (clean, sweet-smelling) home. Fair warning: some of these are reasonably unpleasant, which you can understand given the context.

"'If high shcool's the best time of your life, I'm hanging myself with a jump-rope tonight' - Jackie-Onassis Kennedy" "Actually darling... it's 'Kennedy Onassis'." "Look closely... I added in the 'nassis Kennedy'. Her name isn't Jackie-Onassis. Darling." (Jackie-O is an Australian radio host that falls into the famous-for-being famous category.)

"You forgot the apostrofy." "Apostraphe!" "Noobs!! It's Apostrophe!!!"

"I don't hate you. I just lost all my respect for you."

"Show me the mula $$$" (My personal favourite.)

"Thank you all for the wonderful literature! you all make my purging much more entertaining and enlightening." (Despite the use of alliterated, double-superlatives, this little note is not courtesy of me. I'm engaged at the moment in a serious debate over if anyone truly cares about the various measaurements of a young man named Austin. I deemed it a little too inappropariate for here. I'm sure you'd agree.)

Unfortunately, I just realised that this is my last post before Christmas. What timing! I hope you had/are having/will have a great non-denominational, general festive period.

 

It's beginning to sort of resemble Christmas

Originals here and here

They had a snowstorm in Helsinki. In Prague, the Christmas markets are beginning to show their beautiful selves. It's 18 degrees C in Hobart. Now, I hate to complain, but it seems like the whole world -- maybe less Argentina -- is in the grips of a winter wonderland.

I do love Australia, and I adore Melbourne. Autumn is a sensation and I only get a little hayfever-y in spring. But December is the month when my mind turns to knitted sweaters and slipping over on black ice. I know snow stops being charming by about day three, but my romantic vision of that Vinter Vonderland persists. I blame Hollywood and Ben Affleck.

But that's not the point of this blog! It's meant to be charming and pretty. Blogs are pretty and charming. That's the way it's meant to be. So I hoofed it into the city to snap some of my favourite Christmassy places. It's not all nauseating postcards of Surfin' Santa and crummy season-appropriate rewrites of carols. No, we can copy the Northern Hemisphere every bit as well as Argentina.

So let's see what we see.

ASW Top Tourism Tip: Melbourne's arcades are sensational places. Melburnians always seem to vouch for the alleyways; and they're fascinating and pokey and everything they ought to be. But the arcades are reliable in the way arcades are. You know one store only sells Russian matryoshka dolls? They're all carved by tooth in Smolensk or something. It's pretty great.

They have a forest down at Fed Square, too. I mean, it was hardly Nova Scotia -- the trees were fake! -- but we do love ourselves a traditional Christmas here. I can't wait for baking ovens on baking days, gluhwein, ecologically unsound conifers and goddamn velvet.

Oh, and one particular film.