Wednesday, October 21, 2009

What the fork are you looking at?

I was an eccentric child. Little kids spend a lot of time imaging their dream house, which usually involves a white picket fence, an xbox and a swimming pool. My childhood dream was to have mismatching cutlery and crockery when I had my own place.

So when I recently moved in my very own studio apartment, it seemed like a good time to fulfil my childhood dream. I mentioned my domestic shopping list to someone, and scoffed when they suggested I go to Ikea. "I'd rather blow up my apartment with a soap bomb," was my immediate response.

Instead, I found a delectable shop on Swan Street, Richmond that sells mostly antique and vintage crockery and cutlery sets. Most of the mismatching stuff was cheaper because normal people tend to like matching stuff. I managed to pick up a bunch of gorgeous detailed plates and bowls from the 1920s to the 1970s, all with different designs and gold detailing. I was especially proud of the set of antique silver cutlery I picked up for a mere twenty dollars. (I went to Target to check prices, and a basic cutlery set was $29.) It even had soup spoons and dessert spoons. Absolutely stoked.

Then I went home and tried to eat a steak. And discovered that the cutlery set didn't have a single knife. Fork my life.

Monday, October 12, 2009

OK Commuter

I am having withdrawals. I am having public transport withdrawals.

I recently moved from a horrendous share house really close to the city to a fancy studio apartment in an expensive, trendy suburb that's about twenty minutes out. Being alone has never been so fun.

The only problem is transport. I used to live in Richmond - pretty much the biggest train station in Melbourne apart from Flinders Street. Ten glorious platforms. Trains leaving at least every two minutes. I also lived on three tram lines, and near two other train stations and several bus lines.

Now I live in a gorgeous swanky northern suburb. My neighbours are rich environmentally friendly yuppies who use calico bags made by Tibetan blind children suffering from malnutrition, and cycle every where and buy carbon offsets. I live near about ten different organic bakeries, and not one looks anywhere close to bankruptcy. I love my new neighbourhood, but there's fuck all transport.

I sort of want to buy a car but I'm afraid my neighbours will hate me and my white bread eating ways...