So let me catch you up while my brownies bake. I want to master making disgustingly gooey brownies. As in, this-sludge-is-slooping-down-between-my-fingers-so-I-have-to-lick-my-hands-clean kind of gooey. And as I stood in my kitchen beating the eggs I whipped my hair to Powderfinger's Vulture Street; I haven't listened to '(Baby I've Got You) On My Mind' since I was seventeen and flushing with first love, sitting on a beach and making up constellations to make him laugh. So it was the perfect choice for tonight, really.
And o, how much we've missed! I burned my hand, did I tell you? I was cooking (again) and a wave of boiling oil leapt out of the pan as I flipped a broad bean and zucchini fritter and it was as painful as you're imagining right now. As I stood with my temple against my bathroom wall, cold water pouring over my crying skin, I wondered dimly how I suddenly became accident prone at the strike of 2011.
Did I tell you I'm giving Roland Barthes another go? I've even found that slowing right down to peer at things from his perspective has helped me see structuralism a whole new way. The old way, if you care to know, was hard to make out through my groans and eye rolling. Yet his writing shines light on fashion imagery on style blogs in the most delightful ways and even though Stella told me that Barthes later became a post-Structuralist and renounced most of his earlier work, I'm going to stick with it for a while longer. Well, for as long as I can before the Library recalls it again (Short Loans are the bane of my existence.)
In other news, my list of blogs to read rolls on and out of control, pages of scribbled poetic titles that have been scrapped together to sing a new tune: 'Dandy Gum' and 'Antichristopher' and 'Luna Supernova' and 'we the people.'
And reading Mrs Dalloway is drawing me into dreams of writing a novel on the side. There's a guitar plectrum on my table in the perfect matte lipstick red and the fragrance of brownies is swelling through my entire apartment. The wind is combing the leaves outside, it is a beautiful, beautiful night.
I've been here, I've been reading and overhauling my thesis outline to help my ideas shine. I've been here, reading. Writing. And geez, I haven't even shown you my vintage glove collection yet (heck YES! They are the most (to say the very least*)) nor have I shown-and-told you about my first ever Surry Hills markets adventure where I found a Lisa Ho blouse which is basically the lovechild of Chanel Haute Couture and a mime. You know you want to see that, right?
I have a feeling that 2011 is going to be a grand year.
*Stella, that was just for you.