Georgiezine

 Went to see Split Enz last night, from arriving at the train station en route, my heart sank about how drab and badly dressed matured aged audiences are, in Adelaide, I do remember getting shirty with my Mum for pointing this out, but it's true. Everyone dresses like they've left prison or they were forced to shop for their wardrobe at Millers or Lowes (and maybe they were). By the time we arrived at Entertainment Centre, there were a few glimmers of hope, a guy who had an actual Split Enz t-shirt, looked like a New Zealander. Then, as the band came on, there was relief. Paul and Tim had white hair big and boofy, sharp plaid suits, Neil in Blue and Tim in orange, they shared a retrospective of all the amazing outfits that Noel had made for them over the years, and I was in heaven. Noel is a talent, I believe he did the sets for Play School and/or Rockwiz, and he's good at sewing, screen printing, patchworking but also that higher level of conceptual design. Makes Jenny Kee...

  I've been reading Real Estate by Deborah Levy, the sequel to Cost of Living (or is it Cost of Loving?). Remains a great title in my mind, either way. Meanwhile I've requested and borrowed out everything she's written, and it's a lot. I recommended her to my friend and new book club of two and she's reading her too, I'm impressed.  Last night I dropped off the eldest at orchestra practice and parked behind Schultz in a 15 minute zone, so I could collect a book reservation-Hilary McPhee, Other People's Lives, which includes her setting up McPhee Gribble and publishing Monkey Grip. The youngest was so delighted by the library, that we returned to the car and grabbed his book so he, too, could enjoy the delight of a reading room. I deliberately tested spatial awareness by setting a small challenge of finding the library a second time, without me, and they did, walking past the observatory building and the small child care, which had a nice vibe, and where iden...

Tonight I signalled I wanted to catch the 5:00 train, did exit things to enable this, except left my bike helmet at the desk, by the time I made it to the train platform on my ebike, all gone.  I waited for the next train, with my study partner, all good as I caught the train home via the inner west, which terminates at now gentrified beach destination, OMG, another level of fashion forwardness. Think men in linen jackets, paisley shirts, trousers, lace up oxfords, carry bags, silver fox (male, female) with wrap around wool wear, confidence, knowing/connecting looks, cool handbags by a bespoke bag maker.  My pick of the night was a couple, she/they short hair, tweed wool coat, wrap around scarf, leaning into/resting against him/they in pink shirt, doom scrolling phones. She/they wore pants, lace up oxfords and as she/they exited, I noted: nose ring, lip ring, that latest craze of skinny pendant descending into cleavage territory, semi unbuttoned linen shirt, thin not wiry, in ...

From a fashion first aid perspective, I need intervention, wore tracky pants, in public, to avoid unflattering effect of jeans. Lifestyle has caught up and have to do something, something, something.  Umm, what else. I had an amusing experience when I realised a frenemy-someone I get along with, from an intellectual and cultural and even ethical perspective-suffers not only from smugness, but social insecurity. I had no idea they need to be cool, given they're well educated and attained tenure in a competitive field, by pursuing something that yielded external validation of a kind they take for granted, which funds renovations and holidays. Sounds enough to me, but they also want to be cool.  I suspect the source of their difficulties is they've been with the same partner since a teenager, lack of comparison in the bedroom (even a sample of two is useful), kissing action hasn't diversified since they were a geek. That's the real tragedy. Funny how much passion is involv...

 Work is work and men are men, but maybe I should acknowledge my gender a bit more. Tonight, as I approached, on foot, bike cage in the basement, an emerging cyclist noticed my approach and left the electronic cage open. She was wearing what I will politely call lady commuter clothes, and I recognised her as a school classmate (in the day), above me by two years, cycles every day.  I read annual report of a women's service and liked the leadership, culturally (and class) diverse.  My manager was made permanent, and when I outlined milestones and due dates, they said, redundantly, "I'm not a micro manager"; I said, "I can't leave you keeping this information in your head" and we both smiled at similar understandings.  My friend took me out for a birthday dinner, for my significant birthday and as she was telling horrified anecdote about an architect who DJs, is a sexual healer and enjoys life modelling in full frontal mode, we were served a banana fritter...

Every year I have a quest to honour, in the moment, Robert Smith's birthday. I was a day late, but thanks to Greenwich time, I was cool?  Sadly, James Valentine has passed, and I realise he was the blueprint for cool guys with glasses, music nerds, and all of that. Thank you for being you.  It's 9 years since John Clarke passed on, whilst bush walking. I'm getting a theme here-domestic life.  Today, as the day or day before that or week before that, I went to the pool to swim 50m laps and it was good, though not yet a community formed. I'll keep trying. I feel so great after swimming, even if I've mostly kick boarded, each time I set myself a challenge to keep going. Then I picked up the youngest, and took him for a neighbourhood bike ride, on the new walkways or bike lanes, or something funded by national money. To cycle with him is to understand him, it's precious time. He'd told me in the morning, as we cycled to OSCH, that he has two friendship groups, a...