Date: Sunday, 9 September 2007, 4.00pm
Location: High Street, Preston
Coffee: $2.50 - latte, weak; Greek pastry - $3.00, beautiful (and not even chocolate!)
It is another sunny, beautiful day in Melbourne. I am in Preston and it is like small town NSW, except ethnic: one long main street of shops, mostly closed except for Asian $2.00 shops and Turkish and Greek and Asian bakeries and take-aways. I have yet to wander around a residential section of town, but I did darken the pathways of the large and empty markets, imagining the chaos, seafood and junk that would brighten the brick pavement on market days. After a couple of productive hours with Derrida this morning I went for a short walk with Ann in Fitzroy Gardens and then kept on my way up the train line to Preston to check it out. I felt with Derrida I was finally locating my problem - that in his attempt to overthrow the traditional phlosophical definition of truth as 'correspondence to reality' he tries to do away with reality rather than redefine truth reality or correspondence. Doing away with correspondence is the post-modernist project in general but this particular text of Derrida's (The First Session) attempts to get rid of the signified or imitated by first making it absent or nothing and then joining it with the signifier or copy so that they become two things that are no longer dfferent but the same, yet still represent or express difference. It doesn't make sense - how can you even work with nothing? At least Bataille's nothing has presence - it is presence without thinghood. Derrida's nothing doesn't have presence or thinghood so how can it exist as difference? Difference from what else that is not a thing or present? Because presence doesn't seem to exist either!
At the Lilith (Melbourne University feminist journal) fundraiser on Thursday evening I got talking to two American post-grads - male - about criticial theory and relativism and post-modernity. It was a culturally-awakening conversation. I felt condescended to. One guy
laughed at me at one point and questioned my application of complementarity after admitting that he wasn't familiar with the theory. When I talk with Australian males I do not feel condescended to, nor stupid, nor laughed at, nor disrespected. Often the guys know more than I do but they still honour my views and understanding within the stage of study I am at and I never feel like they think I am stupid or wrong. Such discussions can get fiery, but always enjoyable, respectful and informative. The experience with the American students made me feel glad I am here and not there.
Otherwise there is not much to report. Ann and I will be moving to Hawthorn in a few weeks and I want to book return flights to Canberra so I can pick up some more things (music!!, coffee plunger, more clothes) and figure out what to do with the rest of my stuff. I'm also hankering to visit friends.
The past couple of weeks have been productive in terms of thesis reading and writing. Now that house-hunting is over I feel much freer, though job-hunting and applying still usurps time.
Last weekend I interviewed at a bookshop in Brighton and said hi to the beach, but the bookshop owner has not offered me a job. Yesterday Ann and I saw 'Once', a nice but melancholy Irish movie about a songwriter who is approached by a chipper and stubborn Czechoslovakian girl. He find out she is a pinao player, singer and songwriter and they make an album together. The film is a feature-length music video for their album. The naturalism of the acting and cinematography is lovely and the songs quite good, if a bit sad.
Okay, I am off to explore the nonresidential parts of Preston before the sun goes down.
Addendum: I just found the Old Fire station Cafe and Gallery. There's a band with a female crooner and ladies knitting taking up most of the tables. A dull red-orange stone floor, vinyl chairs and laminex tables. A couch and a courtyard, brick walls, a big open space. Cool.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Cafe #26: il Fornaio
Date: Saturday, 11 August 2007, 4.30pm
Location: 2 Acland Street, St Kilda
Coffee: $3.20 - latte, very average
Reading: Truth: A Guide
This is an industrial-style cafe/bakery, with grey stone floors, silver stage lights hanging from exposed black piping and grey cement brick walls, although there is purple inch-thick attached walling behind the bar on one side of the upper level and shelves and a fridge on the other. Up a wide set of four wooden plank steps is the pastry counter, fronting a steel-screen backdrop from which wicker baskets of bread hang (supported by a shelf). Behind that I can see a sous-chef working and in front the 'il Fornaio' hangs dramatically in large, long matte-brass lettering. On the lower level there are grey plastic chairs and wooden tables, as well as low leopard-print benches on either side of the stairs. There is pounding industrial trance music in the background (not that I really know what industrial trance is but I think it must be this). The cafe is loud with vibrating voice waves, which is good for reading because no words are distinguishable and thus distracting.
I wanted the last little chocolate tart but someone bought it out from under me.
It has been a beautiful warm morning. I was out late at a party last night. It began as a work party on the Clayton campus, and after drinking wine and beer courtesy of the bookshop the leftover party-goers were locked out of the venue at 10.30. Several of us made our way to S's house - which turned out to be a real treat. He lives with an older man in an art deco pink-brick house with an enormous second-level balcony with a view, two enormous bathrooms (one a green and pink marble Barbie dream bathroom), a bar and generally full of stuff - strange instruments and statues of camels, worn oriental carpets and other assorted cool and kitsch clutter. It was a fun place to be in and we drank and danced and ogled the house. I went home with a fellow workmate to her house in Balaclava, right next to Glick's Bakery.
In the morning I bought latkes and perogies (YAY!) from a Polish deli and ate a sesame bagel and a slice of poppyseed cake at a bakery, then took a long tram ride home. After napping and showering and making latkes with a side of sliced soft-boiled egg and avacado for A and, I decided to say hello to the beach that I didn't have time to greet when I was in Balaclava. I walked to Smith St, picked up a few cans of Amy's refried black beans from Soul Foods, then caught the tram to St. Kilda. I meant to go t Port Melbourne but I didn't quite know when to get off.
By the time I arrived at the beach around 3.30pm it was no longer warm and a bit windy so I only walked the beach for a bit and then found this cafe. I may walk a bit more along the tram line and then hop on when I'm cold. I expect to have a quiet night at home, hopefully finish this book about truth and maybe work on some Heidegger. I am still having trouble concentrating and still feel very melancholy a lot of the time. I don't feel like me. The party last night was a good distraction. I need more parties!
A and I are having one next weekend but we have little idea of who will come as only several of
A's friends have RSVP'd.
Alright, I'm off.
Location: 2 Acland Street, St Kilda
Coffee: $3.20 - latte, very average
Reading: Truth: A Guide
This is an industrial-style cafe/bakery, with grey stone floors, silver stage lights hanging from exposed black piping and grey cement brick walls, although there is purple inch-thick attached walling behind the bar on one side of the upper level and shelves and a fridge on the other. Up a wide set of four wooden plank steps is the pastry counter, fronting a steel-screen backdrop from which wicker baskets of bread hang (supported by a shelf). Behind that I can see a sous-chef working and in front the 'il Fornaio' hangs dramatically in large, long matte-brass lettering. On the lower level there are grey plastic chairs and wooden tables, as well as low leopard-print benches on either side of the stairs. There is pounding industrial trance music in the background (not that I really know what industrial trance is but I think it must be this). The cafe is loud with vibrating voice waves, which is good for reading because no words are distinguishable and thus distracting.
I wanted the last little chocolate tart but someone bought it out from under me.
It has been a beautiful warm morning. I was out late at a party last night. It began as a work party on the Clayton campus, and after drinking wine and beer courtesy of the bookshop the leftover party-goers were locked out of the venue at 10.30. Several of us made our way to S's house - which turned out to be a real treat. He lives with an older man in an art deco pink-brick house with an enormous second-level balcony with a view, two enormous bathrooms (one a green and pink marble Barbie dream bathroom), a bar and generally full of stuff - strange instruments and statues of camels, worn oriental carpets and other assorted cool and kitsch clutter. It was a fun place to be in and we drank and danced and ogled the house. I went home with a fellow workmate to her house in Balaclava, right next to Glick's Bakery.
In the morning I bought latkes and perogies (YAY!) from a Polish deli and ate a sesame bagel and a slice of poppyseed cake at a bakery, then took a long tram ride home. After napping and showering and making latkes with a side of sliced soft-boiled egg and avacado for A and, I decided to say hello to the beach that I didn't have time to greet when I was in Balaclava. I walked to Smith St, picked up a few cans of Amy's refried black beans from Soul Foods, then caught the tram to St. Kilda. I meant to go t Port Melbourne but I didn't quite know when to get off.
By the time I arrived at the beach around 3.30pm it was no longer warm and a bit windy so I only walked the beach for a bit and then found this cafe. I may walk a bit more along the tram line and then hop on when I'm cold. I expect to have a quiet night at home, hopefully finish this book about truth and maybe work on some Heidegger. I am still having trouble concentrating and still feel very melancholy a lot of the time. I don't feel like me. The party last night was a good distraction. I need more parties!
A and I are having one next weekend but we have little idea of who will come as only several of
A's friends have RSVP'd.
Alright, I'm off.
Cafe #25: Upper Crust Bread Shop
Date: Monday, 06 August 2007
Location: 206 Smith Street
Coffee: latte - $2.50, okay
It has been a while since I last wrote. I have been working, studying and being cold. I only have five hours of work this week, which feels like freedom, except isn't. I will have to find another job as freedom requires paying one's rent.
The past couple of weeks have been mixed. I went to see Ian McKellan in The Seagull wth A, S and F. It was lovely to be at the theatre and see Sir Ian, but the play was only okay and his part wasn't large. I didn't get a ticket to King Lear, which I will forever regret.
My thesis began to come together this past week as well. I will look at complementarity as a definition of postmodernism and play Badiou (ethics), Barthes (literature) and Derrida (Law and Literature) off each other, all through Copenhagen, showing different types of complementarities between and wthin the texts. I may organise the thesis around metaphorical/theoretical common concepts such as void, transgression, supplement, etc, and add some Bataille and Sartre in the mix as well. I feel much more settled having a plan and like I have more time to do paid work since I've done most of the reading already. Of course I will read these books again and again but the initial familiarity is there.
This week has been difficult because I found out my rent is going up in October. I have to move. If things work out A will move with me, but 'if' is the key problematic. I need to find a new job (this was the first week I was offered only one shift). And I've found out A has a new girlfriend and peace of mind, which despite my pleasure for him is hard for me. After a few phone conversations with S and my dad and my mom last night I'm feeling much better an am able to focus on study today.
Just earlier I had a meeting with a lovely young woman interested in doing some publicity work for lip as part of her university course, so hopefully that'll get lip some money for the next issue.
I am sitting outside today, which is lovely. Hopefully the worst of the winter is behind us and the days will remain edged with warmth.
My tabletop is painted with a red-headed girl in a blue bikini with white flowers, laying on a red, white and blue striped towel on the beach with water, mountains and a sailing ship behind her.
Location: 206 Smith Street
Coffee: latte - $2.50, okay
It has been a while since I last wrote. I have been working, studying and being cold. I only have five hours of work this week, which feels like freedom, except isn't. I will have to find another job as freedom requires paying one's rent.
The past couple of weeks have been mixed. I went to see Ian McKellan in The Seagull wth A, S and F. It was lovely to be at the theatre and see Sir Ian, but the play was only okay and his part wasn't large. I didn't get a ticket to King Lear, which I will forever regret.
My thesis began to come together this past week as well. I will look at complementarity as a definition of postmodernism and play Badiou (ethics), Barthes (literature) and Derrida (Law and Literature) off each other, all through Copenhagen, showing different types of complementarities between and wthin the texts. I may organise the thesis around metaphorical/theoretical common concepts such as void, transgression, supplement, etc, and add some Bataille and Sartre in the mix as well. I feel much more settled having a plan and like I have more time to do paid work since I've done most of the reading already. Of course I will read these books again and again but the initial familiarity is there.
This week has been difficult because I found out my rent is going up in October. I have to move. If things work out A will move with me, but 'if' is the key problematic. I need to find a new job (this was the first week I was offered only one shift). And I've found out A has a new girlfriend and peace of mind, which despite my pleasure for him is hard for me. After a few phone conversations with S and my dad and my mom last night I'm feeling much better an am able to focus on study today.
Just earlier I had a meeting with a lovely young woman interested in doing some publicity work for lip as part of her university course, so hopefully that'll get lip some money for the next issue.
I am sitting outside today, which is lovely. Hopefully the worst of the winter is behind us and the days will remain edged with warmth.
My tabletop is painted with a red-headed girl in a blue bikini with white flowers, laying on a red, white and blue striped towel on the beach with water, mountains and a sailing ship behind her.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Cafe #24: Issus Cafe Bar
Date: Friday, 13 July 2007, 5.20pmLocation: 8 Centre Place, CBD
Coffee: latte, good
Reading: The Accursed Share
It has been on and off raining again today. I feel I should learn to enjoy rain, or at least not dislike it so much. After all it is only water. Yet I don't like having spotty spectacles and a wet hemline and worrying whether the books in my bag will get water-warped. Stepping over puddles. I wish it would stop raining, at least during the day. I do like the sound of the rain on our tin roof, which has still a comforting ring to it.
The cafes across the lane are closed up and the loud soul music has thankfully stopped. Apparently this evening music is an attraction of this particular laneway, but of course I was reading (Bataille) and didn't welcome it.
Issus is small, cute and dark, like the other cafes on these central lanes. Weathered granite floor and wooden tables, a row of square cushions and tables outside the open front, a gilded mirror written with menu and a red-jacketed waitress with a nice smile. I am distracted by all the people walking to the train or to occasions from work or shopping, hoping that I might see someone I know. I've had a quiet day and am planning on a quiet night - more reading, email, writing, maybe a video. Cook a big green curry.
Reading Bataille gives me more to work with on the whole French theory thing: absence, void, transgression. For Bataille, experiencing the freedom of being a subject (labour makes us objects) that comes from intense emotion such as laughter or pain is the experience of NOTHING. The object dissolves; the subject is a void; murder is the transgression of an object demanding subjecthood. It doesn't make much experiential sense to me but is a pretty mythology of modernism.
I had my first afternoon of work at the Caulfield campus bookshop. It felt better, probably because only five hours rather than 8 1/2. Next week is second semester rush. Can't wait to see if it is as chaotic as everyone makes out. Looking forward to the extra money the extra hours will bring. But not to waking up at 7am three days next week. Am practicing going to bed by 1am and setting alarm for 8.00am instead of ten. I was out of bed by 9.30 this morning. Progress!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Cafe #23: Invita
Date: Tuesday, 7 July 2007, 2.30pm
Location: Hardware Lane, near Bourke St.
Coffee: $3.00 - latte, beautiful (fairtrade) gluten-free foods available
Reading: The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism
When I sat down outside at this organic, vegan-y cafe the sun was out. The sky is cloudless-Canberra-blue, which is a pleasure and a joy after all the rain Melbourne's been gardens have been enjoying. However, now that the sun has moved from enlightening this part of the city it is chilly, a cold breeze bothering my neck. Still, it is a relief to have warmer weather.
I've been to the markets with E, relaxing and welcome as usual. Last weekend was an all-nighter with the CCLS department students and friends to farewell C. It involved three bars, the first loud and expensive and mainstream, the second quiet and baroque with $2.50 beers and friendly staff, the third a proper pub complete with young male rock band upstairs and a downstairs full of lounging drunk young people. Five of us ended up at Cafe L'Incontro on Swanston Street, drinking coffee until the first morning trains were due to depart Flinders Street Station around 5.30. Clearly I didn't have a very productive day on Saturday, though I forced myself to stay awake and read. On Sunday I wrote against Derrida, so I felt better.
Hardware Lane is cute - brick-streeted laneway lined with fancy restaurants, though the Bourke Street end is home to cafes rather than restaurants. Invita isn't the most charming cafe, what with its plastic rather than wicker chairs and contemporary look, but it did have the fairtrade coffee, and I couldn't aesthetically argue myself out of the ethics of that. I was rewarded for my moral fortitude by a beautiful cup of coffee.
Anyway, back to Weber.
Location: Hardware Lane, near Bourke St.
Coffee: $3.00 - latte, beautiful (fairtrade) gluten-free foods available
Reading: The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism
When I sat down outside at this organic, vegan-y cafe the sun was out. The sky is cloudless-Canberra-blue, which is a pleasure and a joy after all the rain Melbourne's been gardens have been enjoying. However, now that the sun has moved from enlightening this part of the city it is chilly, a cold breeze bothering my neck. Still, it is a relief to have warmer weather.
I've been to the markets with E, relaxing and welcome as usual. Last weekend was an all-nighter with the CCLS department students and friends to farewell C. It involved three bars, the first loud and expensive and mainstream, the second quiet and baroque with $2.50 beers and friendly staff, the third a proper pub complete with young male rock band upstairs and a downstairs full of lounging drunk young people. Five of us ended up at Cafe L'Incontro on Swanston Street, drinking coffee until the first morning trains were due to depart Flinders Street Station around 5.30. Clearly I didn't have a very productive day on Saturday, though I forced myself to stay awake and read. On Sunday I wrote against Derrida, so I felt better.
Hardware Lane is cute - brick-streeted laneway lined with fancy restaurants, though the Bourke Street end is home to cafes rather than restaurants. Invita isn't the most charming cafe, what with its plastic rather than wicker chairs and contemporary look, but it did have the fairtrade coffee, and I couldn't aesthetically argue myself out of the ethics of that. I was rewarded for my moral fortitude by a beautiful cup of coffee.
Anyway, back to Weber.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Cafe #22: Moo Wine Bar
Date: 24 June 2007, 5.30pm
Location: Mooroolbark (shopping centre)
Coffee: $? - mocha, okay
Reading: Being and Time
Mooroolbark is the penultimate stop on the Lilydale line. The weekly tickets Connex has been giving me in place of the yearly ticket I lost have been zone one and two tickets, so I thought I should explore zone two - go to the end of a line - while I have a ticket to do so freely. On A's recommendation I chose Lilydale, as it is in the Dandenong ranges. Despite its hilly setting, it isn't an inspiring town. Strip-type shopping complexes and not very nice houses. I walked around a bit in the suburbs, skirting the sporting oval on which was being played a game of intertown football, then bought a couple potato cakes at the fish and chip shop, where I had a nice chat about my studies, outdoor toilets and other Melbourne-related trifles with a North Fitzroy couple on their way back from holiday in Marysville. When they said goodbye, off to pick up their boarding dog, I wandered back to the station and took the train back one stop. Mooroolbark is a bit nicer than Lilydale. The shops are slightly more upmarket - antiques and jewellery/arty knick-knacks - and the neighbourhood looks a lot like Canberra, with different trees. I didn't notice any fancy houses.
The wine bar is playing irritating music - new Michael Jackson, I think - and has dark wood veneer tables with cool black and cream chairs that loook a bit like a thigh-press machine: the back of the chair is a roll attached to the seat by two curling back steel arms.
Last night was a good night. I accompanied E to the National Institute of Circus Arts' second year BA student show. It was very sexy, with performers working on tissu (long ribbons hanging from the beams), rings (also swinging from the beam), trapeze and swing, tightrope and ropes (siimilar to tissu). There was a lousy clown cum magician; jugglers, including a body juggler; a trick bicycle and girls revolving in metal wheels; and a duo of boys who swung and threw weights on long strings around. Also tumblers. Aside from the fun of all the arial tricks, the music composed for the show was outstanding, giving it such a mysterious fun (Cirque de Soleilish) atmosphere, with undercurrents of primitiveness and Easternality. I LOVED the music - great beats, sound effects, ambience and sexiness - to accompany the rippling muscles of boys too young for me to be admiring. After the circus E and I went drinking and dancing. There was a great 7-piece funk band, Cold Sweat, playing at The Laundry on Johnston Street and I had a bit of a boogy.
The week ahead sees more Heidegger, Derrida and Weber. I need to get a significant amount of work done. Good luck to me!
Location: Mooroolbark (shopping centre)
Coffee: $? - mocha, okay
Reading: Being and Time
Mooroolbark is the penultimate stop on the Lilydale line. The weekly tickets Connex has been giving me in place of the yearly ticket I lost have been zone one and two tickets, so I thought I should explore zone two - go to the end of a line - while I have a ticket to do so freely. On A's recommendation I chose Lilydale, as it is in the Dandenong ranges. Despite its hilly setting, it isn't an inspiring town. Strip-type shopping complexes and not very nice houses. I walked around a bit in the suburbs, skirting the sporting oval on which was being played a game of intertown football, then bought a couple potato cakes at the fish and chip shop, where I had a nice chat about my studies, outdoor toilets and other Melbourne-related trifles with a North Fitzroy couple on their way back from holiday in Marysville. When they said goodbye, off to pick up their boarding dog, I wandered back to the station and took the train back one stop. Mooroolbark is a bit nicer than Lilydale. The shops are slightly more upmarket - antiques and jewellery/arty knick-knacks - and the neighbourhood looks a lot like Canberra, with different trees. I didn't notice any fancy houses.
The wine bar is playing irritating music - new Michael Jackson, I think - and has dark wood veneer tables with cool black and cream chairs that loook a bit like a thigh-press machine: the back of the chair is a roll attached to the seat by two curling back steel arms.
Last night was a good night. I accompanied E to the National Institute of Circus Arts' second year BA student show. It was very sexy, with performers working on tissu (long ribbons hanging from the beams), rings (also swinging from the beam), trapeze and swing, tightrope and ropes (siimilar to tissu). There was a lousy clown cum magician; jugglers, including a body juggler; a trick bicycle and girls revolving in metal wheels; and a duo of boys who swung and threw weights on long strings around. Also tumblers. Aside from the fun of all the arial tricks, the music composed for the show was outstanding, giving it such a mysterious fun (Cirque de Soleilish) atmosphere, with undercurrents of primitiveness and Easternality. I LOVED the music - great beats, sound effects, ambience and sexiness - to accompany the rippling muscles of boys too young for me to be admiring. After the circus E and I went drinking and dancing. There was a great 7-piece funk band, Cold Sweat, playing at The Laundry on Johnston Street and I had a bit of a boogy.
The week ahead sees more Heidegger, Derrida and Weber. I need to get a significant amount of work done. Good luck to me!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Cafe #21: Suede
Date: 16 June 2007, 4.50pm
Location: Smith Street, near Peel Street, Fitzroy
Coffee: $3.00 - latte, okay
This is a red and bass bar, too dark to read comfortably and too boosted bass-y to read concentratedly. Nor is the coffee good. Nonetheless it is probably a good place for an intimate (alcoholic) drink, offering brown and red couches and cushions, a gold and red baroque-patterned bar, green wallpaper with a silver wheatish motif on a far wall and big, square navy-blue fabric lampshades overhead with a fruit and leaf design. There is muted red lighting behind the bar created with red bulbs shaded by plastic squares with convex and concave circles in the centre. There is an upstairs and palms in the windows, exposed brick walls, gilt mirrors, and bamboo-blinded nooks hiding soft lighting.
I have been sleeping in too long on these cold winter Melbourne days. Today, despite setting my alarm for 10.00am, I did not manage to roll myself out of bed until 12.30. I had a quick shower and rushed off to the Saturday coffee group. After people wandered off from the Lygon Street Cafe I walked to Smith Street in search of an op-shop bedsheet. The cheap op-shop was closed, the Salvo's didn't seem to have a Queen-sized sheet, but I got very lucky and found a shop selling light blue brushed cotton sheet sets (fitted, flat and two pillow cases) for $15.00! So I happily bought those instead. I shall be off home in a moment to change and wash sheets.
I spent several hours yesterday reading one of my supervisor's books. It is a survey cultural theory text and as such is immanently readable. It was lovely to just read - not to have to re- and re-read in order to understand, not to have to take extensive notes to retain, not to have to read in small chunks of time in order to preserve concentration and interest. I hope I have more such easier texts to engage with throughout my study.
Ann and I went to see 'It's Not Your Day' last night at La Mama Theatre on Faraday Street. It was alright, especially for $10.00. The play was by a young playwright, and though a bit cliched and mainstream, it offered some funny moments and enjoyable acting by a few of the actors, including a particularly lively performance of a steely female wit. I should go to the (cheap) theatre more often...
Location: Smith Street, near Peel Street, Fitzroy
Coffee: $3.00 - latte, okay
This is a red and bass bar, too dark to read comfortably and too boosted bass-y to read concentratedly. Nor is the coffee good. Nonetheless it is probably a good place for an intimate (alcoholic) drink, offering brown and red couches and cushions, a gold and red baroque-patterned bar, green wallpaper with a silver wheatish motif on a far wall and big, square navy-blue fabric lampshades overhead with a fruit and leaf design. There is muted red lighting behind the bar created with red bulbs shaded by plastic squares with convex and concave circles in the centre. There is an upstairs and palms in the windows, exposed brick walls, gilt mirrors, and bamboo-blinded nooks hiding soft lighting.
I have been sleeping in too long on these cold winter Melbourne days. Today, despite setting my alarm for 10.00am, I did not manage to roll myself out of bed until 12.30. I had a quick shower and rushed off to the Saturday coffee group. After people wandered off from the Lygon Street Cafe I walked to Smith Street in search of an op-shop bedsheet. The cheap op-shop was closed, the Salvo's didn't seem to have a Queen-sized sheet, but I got very lucky and found a shop selling light blue brushed cotton sheet sets (fitted, flat and two pillow cases) for $15.00! So I happily bought those instead. I shall be off home in a moment to change and wash sheets.
I spent several hours yesterday reading one of my supervisor's books. It is a survey cultural theory text and as such is immanently readable. It was lovely to just read - not to have to re- and re-read in order to understand, not to have to take extensive notes to retain, not to have to read in small chunks of time in order to preserve concentration and interest. I hope I have more such easier texts to engage with throughout my study.
Ann and I went to see 'It's Not Your Day' last night at La Mama Theatre on Faraday Street. It was alright, especially for $10.00. The play was by a young playwright, and though a bit cliched and mainstream, it offered some funny moments and enjoyable acting by a few of the actors, including a particularly lively performance of a steely female wit. I should go to the (cheap) theatre more often...
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