hi⋅a⋅tus [hahy-ey-tuhs]

–noun, plural -tus⋅es, -tus.

1. a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc.
2. a missing part; gap or lacuna: Scholars attempted to account for the hiatus in the medieval manuscript.

Things I’ve come to realise since moving to Newtown:

• I never really belonged in Windsor. Or Wagga. My new neighborhood feels comfy already and I’ve barely moved in.
• I kinda really like the new TV on the Radio album.
• Walls can be Very Serious Business.
• The M5 is just as busy from 6:30AM to 7:30AM as it is from 7:30AM to 8:30AM.
• Ditto the M7.
• There are not enough hours in each day to do everything ones wants to do. Well, this one. Like work and driving home from work and cooking and eating dinner and watching The Daily Show and showering and playing with the cat and talking to and/or hugging the boy and doing washing and/or washing up and talking to my mum on the phone and going for a walk and fucking around on the interwebs. I reckon if I could have another, I don’t know, 6 hours a day I’d be sweet. Or maybe 8. Yeah. 8 would probably be enough.
• Sometimes when you search your wee brain and you think there might be nothing, there’s actually something. Buried way down deep below there is something, and all it needs is a push and it’ll find its way out.
• I shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying life the way I’m enjoying it now. I am happier then I have ever been in my whole entire life, and it isn’t to do with any one thing in particular, but it’s more about finding a place where I FIT like I’ve never fit before. And not in any one sense. In every single sense. And I should feel like I deserve it.
• I also shouldn’t feel bad for losing myself in it utterly and completely. At least for a little while. Those emails and texts from people insinuating I might have fallen off the edge of the earth are slowly starting to be answered. I’ll get there eventually. I’m just reveling now is all.
• Hooray for housewarming parties!
• There can never be enough sleep.
• Sleep now.


This time the non-posting was not my fault. Honest. It was the fault of the crappiest web hosting company that ever crapped. And I posted YESTERDAY and now the post is GONE, and, well, I don’t know.


I shouldn’t be posting this. I should be vacuuming. Because I have around 100 potential renters coming through this house tomorrow and every surface is covered in a combination of cat hair and dust bunnies.

How far is too far to fly for a Mountain Goats gig?

Also – kittens + Spoon = gold.

38 days

• I must remember to not forget to remember to live IN it. Enjoy it. Don’t sweat it. Shit in your life only happens the once, usually, and you should embrace it. It’ll all happen regardless of how many times you go over it in your head, and how many lists you make.

• John Darnielle’s undying love for Missy Higgins, and in particular her new album, is an utter mystery to me. No accounting for it I guess.

• How many cats is too many? Three. That’s how many. I reckon two would be okay. I know one is a good number. But three? It’s kittypalooza over here.

Our house

We bought a house this weekend. Me and the boy. The boy and I. Holy holy holy cow.

And it’s wonderful. The house, obviously, but everything. I am joy from beginning to end and nervous energy all the way through. It’s the first time I’ve ever looked forward to packing. I don’t know where to start because it’s all huge and it’s all exciting and holy cow.

Look out Newtown. The west is moving east to the inner west.

So much has been waiting for this weekend. Around every 3rd sentence has ended or began with ‘if we get the house’ in the last 5 or so weeks. The whole auction process is incredibly nerve-wracking, but lucky for this girl there’s another member of the team who is much more equipped for said auction situations. I can get a little anxious.

No, really? 😛

I’ve been so impatient. Now I have a date though. October long weekend. The weekend it all stops being hypothetical and becomes actual, tangible fact.

And I honest to god can’t hardly wait.

The one where she sees the holy vessel

To be filed under things I never thought I’d hear myself say –

‘So I was driving through Windsor this afternoon, along Macquarie Street, when the Pope drove past.’

I was very vocal on Friday afternoon about being SO GLAD I was in the city all weekend so as to avoid the whole PopearrivinginRichmond thing. I was a little smug about it even. And then this afternoon I drove headlong into a procession of he and his homies making their way from the RAAF base to his secluded relaxation ranch or what not. The first tip-off was the police helicopters circling overhead – at least 4 of them. The second was the people and video cameras lined up a normally boring stretch of Windsor road – something told me they weren’t that excited about seeing ME drive past. And then suddenly police were everywhere, and one was behind me on a motorbike waving his hands around frantically, motioning me to pull off the road. How rude.

Actually, for a few seconds it was kind of exciting. A ‘wow look at all those police cars!’ kind of exciting. And I know, to the people lined up on the road waiting to glimpse the guy in the funny hat, it was at a super-dooper level of exciting.

I just can’t wait until they get their praying over and done with and I get my city back.

So, the last few weeks I’ve learned some stuff –

1. I like tribute shows. I went to the Bruce Springsteen tribute show at the Vanguard not so long ago and it was fun fun fun. It was the first one I’d been to (minus the INXS cover band we once stumbled in on at R G McGees in Richmond – that doesn’t count) and I’ll tell you what I loved about it – unironic appreciation. Everyone was LOVING IT, and no one was embarrassed about it. Also, where else would you experience Born In The USA performed by a bluegrass band in 3/4 time?

Wait – it unironic a word?

2. It’s true what they say on all those real estate shows – it’s all about location, location, location. If anyone is reading this and lives in Erskineville in a 2 bedroom house, now is a REALLY good time to sell. Okay?

3. Bunnings is less intimidating when you have someone with you.

4. Project Runway Australia was a really bad idea. I think Australian spin-offs of American shows are generally a bad idea, but this one is particularly bad.

5. There’s nothing my cat won’t do for chicken.

Have a good week everyone.