Johnny and Mary

Barreling down the West Coast highway, flicking through radio stations... and that familiar London-memory-Brixton-Academy-warm-dark-infused voice. Brian bloody Molko.
Johnny's always running around trying to find, certainty...

At that moment, I wanted to somehow be in the bathroom again with Nickiy, preparing for the concert, eating hummous and smoking afterwards...

And I wonder if all this is worth it. You see the reason I was barelling down the West Coast highway was to pick B up from work at the Wearne. And he was exhausted, and hated it and I do wonder if all this is worth it for him. Because I'm still stupidly, ridiculously happy here. Tired, and sometimes scared about the money, but happy. Deep in my core and bubbling through my bone marrow happy.

Work is insane at the moment. But then there are always a few moments every day. Like this morning, when I stepped out of the house under fresh-rained skies and blessed Target for their affordable patent plastic shoes that make me feel girly again.
Like this morning walking across the railway bridge over the Mitchell Freeway and over Perth, the sky was like a painting. An alive painting. Nature is glorious.

Now, I've got just a glass of Skuttlebutt and then Jeff McMullen in bed, because tomorrow's a 5am start again...

Mary says he's lacking a real sense of proportion...