love on a plate

have i told you about my friend CM? i call her my wife, cos when we moved to sydney together all we had was each other. we had to be each others sister grandmother mother wife etc. anyway, she is beautiful and funny and has such a perfect straight nose and even though she wears kooky clothes she always manages to look uber chic (aren't we all just a little jealous of those effortlessly elegant girls?)

tonight she made me a gour-met vegetarian feast cos she knew i was tired and busy at work and needed lots of vegies and protein. If only everyone had a wife like CM...

pumpkin risotto cakes with tomato stuffed mushrooms and sauteed baby spinach. topped off with ricotta. if you ask ever so nicely i'm sure she'll give you the recipe... 

ness x

sugar hit

tonight i trudged wearily up the stairs to my second-floor apartment, turned the key in the lock, pushed open the door and this... amazing smell wafted out, tickled my nostrils and floated out the door. It smelt akin to honeysuckles, like... sweet vanilla pods, like the gooey centre of a creme brulee after the satisfying craaaaack. it smelt like SPRING.

usually my apartment smells like vegemite, soup and the faint smell of cat. niiice. I racked my brain trying to think what it might be then i remembered....

... on sunday i bought two hyacinth plants - one purple, one white - and sat one my windowsill and one on my end table. The guy said they were fragrant; he wasn't kidding. 

ness x

winter supper

there are very few problems that a bowl of soup can't fix. 

when i was a wee ness, my mama would herald the beginning of winter by cooking up a huge, bubbling pot of potato and leek soup. chop chop chop the sweet soapy smell of leeks would fill the corners of our house and in would tumble the waxy squares of potatoes one by one. the soup would brew for an hour or so, teasing us with its fragrant deliciousness. my sister and i would hover in the living room, peering over the kitchen bench watching it go wizzzzzzz in the blender. Then into our hungry mouths it would fall... QUICK! gulp gulp down and so hot it would burn our tongues. sweet and creamy and silky smooth, she would sneakily leave in lots of little potato chunks (just cos i liked them). 

Like many of my mother's recipes, i tried this one in my very own kitchen at the beginning of winter. chop chop chop went the leeks and potatoes, in tumbled some carrots and spinach for good measure and a splash of cream. wizzzzzzzzz in the blender and as i waited with bated breath, i smothered damp brown bread in salty butter and gobbled it down. Out the soup came, and it tasted... not exactly like my mother's.... yes, similar, but something different. it tasted like.... yup, that was it. it tasted like sydney and studio apartments and paddy's markets and spindly trees and milky tea. A mixture of two worlds. 

so the other night i went a little cuhrazy and decided to experiment... with vegetables. i know, right? i am one wild child. this lovely soupy goodness is a creation of yours truly and i would oh so love to hear your most favourite winter-warming recipe pretty please!

SPICY CARROT AND CHICKPEA SOUP

serves: 4 days of ness' lunches

3 carrots, chopped (leave the skin on - its awfully good for you. my dad said so)

2 cans of chickpeas, drained

2 potatoes, chopped

1 med sized sweet potato, chopped

3 greedy handfuls of baby spinach

4 cups chicken stock (i am lazy and buy ready-made but aim to make my own one day)

1 onion, finely chopped

3 or 4 bay leaves

a little bit of garlic

a littler bit of chilli

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

oh and lots of good quality olive oil and parmesan cheese (splurge!)

Turn up the heat and chuck in the garlic, chilli, onion and a good splash of olive oil. Sweat it out, so that all the lovely flavours are released. Stir occasionally while you chop chop all the vegies out. Toss in the carrots - i like to get these totally immersed in the spicy chilli and garlic. Cook for 5 mins or so, then toss in the chickpeas and get those nice and garlic-y too. Another splash of olive oil works well here. Cook for another 5 minutes or so. 

Throw in the potatoes and sweet potatoes, pour in the stock and add 2 or 3 cups of water (the vegies should be totally covered with lots of liquid on top). Add any herbs that you want - i like a good shake of paprika and some extra chilli for good measure - and of course, lots of pepper and a pinch of salt. Sprinkle your bay leaves on top, pop the lid on and bring to the boil.

Hold on, almost done! Take it down to a nice gentle simmer and cook 'til the vegies are nice and tender (try the sweet potato, this one takes the longest to cook so it's a good indicator). Stir in the spinach leaves, oh - and have a little taste here, too. Feel free to add more herbs and spices to your liking. Let cool for a little, then wizzzzzz through the blender (or use a hand mix, this soup is not all picky). Ladle into bowls and top with some crumbly parmigiano reggiano. it's damn fine, i tell you! 

('scuse the dirty bowl. i am not very good at "plating up".)

ness x

500 days of summer

it's official: I have a new girl crush. Yes, miss zooey deschanel has knocked sarah blasko and amy adams off their pedestals & stolen my heart.  I am so eagerly waiting to see her newest film venture '500 Days Of Summer' which also stars... wait for it..  Joseph Gordon- Levitt from 3rd rock fame. *swoon* who knew he'd grow up so good? it's my dream cast AND they play lots of fab music too, like The Smiths, Regina Spektor and even a couple of Zooey's own sweet melodies. I only have to wait... oh, 2 months, i think. 

In the meantime, I am feeding my film addiction with several other newbies that are soon to be released. I've already seen Sunshine Cleaning and Every Little Step (3.5 stars, 4.5 stars) and have J.M Coetzee's Disgrace, Coco Avant Chanel, Beautiful Kate, The September Issue and Last Ride on my to-watch list. there's just nothing nicer than a wintry sunday afternoon spent at the cinema with a chai latte and a caramello koala (or two).

ness x

hey big spender

I have a theory about pay day: it's always the first weekend that ruins you. Every month it follows the same pattern... a nice little lump sum lands in your account, the numbers glow and you feel... RICH! it's at this stage that I start to fantasise about all the things that i could do with my loot. a weekend away in melbourne perhaps? oooh witchery boots! or that new art book in Ariel that I've been coveting...

But then I remember that paying rent and bills and groceries and insurance and train tickets leaves nothing more than a sad little pile of dirty coins and a couple of tenners. sigh. so I pledge that for the first weekend after pay day, my purse strings will stay tied tight. NO spending, I tell myself, and usually I stay true to my promise for a coupe of days at least. This month? Well, it's officially a record. That's right my lovelies, I lasted exactly 32 hours before blowing a significant amount of my pennies at Country Road. A couple of the girls in the office are bestowed with little gold country road VIP cards which entitle them to a veeery nice 30% off. How could a girl resist? (and, I convinced myself, I really really needed more tops). I loveee everything that they have in store at the moment, spesh all those fab chunky knits. I scored a long sleeve silk white blouse, a little grey and white pleated camisole that will go very nicely thankyou with my black blazer and the cutest blue and white cap sleeved blouse that boasts a high neck and floppy bow.

hmmm two days into the pay month and only, what? 28 to go? i predict a "how-to-do-a-weekend-on-a-budget" post coming very soon...

oh yes, also wanted to share this photo with you. Snapped at approx 5pm from my office window; isn't this the most luminous sunrise you've ever seen? 

ness x

for the love of music

any sydney-ite who supports local Aussie music would've heard that radio stalwart FBI is in deep financial strife. Not-for-profit and privately owned, they're poor as church mice and need our help. From weekly cheapie gigs to fundraisers and auctions, there's stacks of fabulous things YOU can do to get involved. head here for more info. 

A couple of weeks ago they announced that the Chaser boys had offered to dedicate all the tickets from their July 14th taping to FBi. My darling friend Philly, ever the generous soul, snaffled up a couple of tickets in the blink of an eye and offered one to yours truly. The taping of the chaser is harder to get into than APEC so I was pretty stoked.

Make sure to tune in tomorrow night to watch the episode; much better than previous ones i thought...

ness x

a reunion of sorts

well, hello. it's been a little while, huh? I've been waiting for a long time to get my blog mojo back and somehow tonight - in between being a complete uncoordinated spaz at boxing class and scoffing a cheese & tomato toastie - it zoooooooooom came flooding back. It's just a little spark at the moment but hoping praying wishing that I'll be blogging daily ever so soon.

See, i am ever so lucky in that i get paid every day to write and sometimes i find it a little difficult to come home at the end of the day and... write. It's sad but often my brain feels so drained and empty and devoid of anything intelligent and/or witty and i really didn't think it fair to subject you, my darling readers, to my incoherent ramblings. But (there's always a but) i've really missed blogging. So i'm going to stop writing bloody essays and instead just post a little something every night. A deliciously decadent recipe. A new designer. A wintry Sydney night that has me twirly twirling in the rain gutters. Milky tea. A film that makes me cry. A book that makes me think. A salsa-dancing sangria-drinking saturday night adventure. 

i do so hope that you'll come back and re-visit me again. i've missed you all!

ness x

fashion forecast

it is steamy hot again in sydney. the constant change in weather is making me dizzzzzy... but it does give me a chance to drag out those gorgeous summer dresses for one last twirl. I wore a very pale blue frock today with itty bitty polka dots, capped sleeves and a lovely tie waist; the perfect dress for flowers in your hair/sunshine lunch in the park/tap dancing in the gutter.

Today i lay in the park at lunch with my friend april, who is ever so stylish. "April," asked I, as we lounged on our backs in the grass, staring up at the dappled leaves twinkling in the bright light of the sun. "What clothes will I be wearing this winter?" She gave my question deep thought before turning over onto her side and propping herself up on one elbow. "Lots of geometrics... black and white, stacks of fabulous bright prints - think tribal! It's all about power dressing - high waisted skirts, shoulder pads [cue ness shuddering], wide glossy belts. Lots of leather teamed with lace, v.high shoe-boots - edgy but glamourous - pair with red lippy and smudgy kohl eyeliner." 

Ah, don't you love this time of year, when the next season's fashion is just out of reach but still close enough to dream about? Close enough that you can practically picture yourself dashing through blustery rain in glossy ankle boots and a high collared crisp white shirt, but still far enough way that money really isn't an issue... 

Later that day, I ate dinner at Govindas, a Darlinghurst institution who serve a buffet-style vegetarian feast, and upstairs, an intimate movie theatre which boasts squishy sofas and cushions and has a strict NO SHOES policy. I skipped the film but gorged on the dahl+lentils+pappadums+salad+bread, which are all truly amazing and leave you feeling very sleepy and content. I twirly-twirled home through the Cross in my dotty frock, past the bikies and the hookers and the tune-deaf busker who sings sesame street over and over with a monkey puppet on his hand, all the way home to miss holly who promptly bit my ear. bless her little socks...

ness x

flight of fancy

my heart is aflutter for the latest collection from one of my fave NY designers, Re Jin Lee. Her label Bailey Doesn't Bark is whimsical, quaint and just a little bit frivolous - i want!

hmm... first sparrows, then owls, now flamingos... Will the bird trend ever end? My bet is on deers next...

ness x

limbo land

sydney is leaking, it seems. out of nowhere the blue sky has cracked open, revealing an ugly torrent of splotchy raindrops. neither hot nor cold, the air is stalwart; frozen in time. women scurry around with summer dresses stuck wet to their thighs, umbrellas clutched nervously at chest. boys' feet are muddy from cheap rubber thongs, and the funny combination of shorts + striped hoodies holds them in limbo. 

yesterday i went to good vibes with my friend P. the forecast was for 20 degrees; overcast with "rain periods". oh. my. GOD... i have never been so cold and wet and completely rain-sodden in all my life; made even worse by the fact that it was completely by choice. thank god i had a cute yellow paddington bear-esque poncho to brave the storm in style...  The music was bloody good though; and I am now completely in love with Yelle, a fabulously quirky French rap artist who had all the shirtless boys in absolute rapture.  check her out here. 

ness x

dumpling fever

i am: curled up on my couch, listening to the drunk boys outside my window slur the lyrics to somewhere over the rainbow and suffering from a severe case of dumpling fever (how many can one girl stuff in her face in just one evening? the answer, i have discovered, is A LOT). oh and you know what else? steamed red bean buns are deliciousness in soft doughy wrapping. In drizzly weather after a long week, comfort food with friends in a steamy asian restaurant is sometimes exactly what you need.

guess what? i did a little bit of music-hunting today and came upon three female singer/songwriters who both bring a fresh spark and originality to their work, plus a funny little cover tune to amuse and a lovely blog for you to gobble up.

Texas-born Erin McCarley reminds me a little of Regina Spektor, only less seductress-y and more poppy. her music is beautifully written and an interesting composition of jaunty melodies and haunting piano tunes. her new album love, save the empty is out now. check out her myspace page for a sneak preview.

I've been a little obsessed with Ingrid Michaelson for a while now (the song breathing from her 2008 album be okay is almost disturbingly evocative). I only recently discovered that she collaborated with Sara Bareilles late last year on a little number titled winter song. Its honest lyrics and soulful melody took me by such surprise. You can listen to it on Sara's myspace page, but i urge you to check our Ingrid's as well; have a listen to breathing. You'll fall in love, i promise. 

The sequin-loving prue alerted to me to the musical genius of Lisa Hannigan today while i was sipping my morning coffee. preoccupied by the sheer excitement of pay day (it only comes round once a month), i was of course distracted and was only listening to Lisa in the background. soon i was completely head over heels and emailed back, "oh. my. GOD. where did you find this girl?" Turns out this sultry songstress hails from dublin, and brings with her a fascinating (albeit quirky) life story, which you can read here, on her equally adorable website. stitches and songs? GENIUS! check out her myspace page here.

"heathcliff // it's me, your cathy // i've come home now // so cold, let me in at your window" 

powerful. these have to be some of the BEST lyrics ever written me thinks. Now, i'm always fond of a little Kate Bush but her screeching does get a little tiresome after a while to be honest. Thankfully, the divine Josh Pyke has recorded a little cover of this iconic song. I love Josh's adaption, but it's certainly different. The video is below; what do you think?

the uber-talented Sarah Blasko and i go way back; i was a naive and very awkward 18-year-old in 2004 when i proclaimed perfect now to be my FAVOURITE SONG EVER. Funnily enough, that's still true, and Sarah is always there for me when i need her. she's in snowy sweden right now recording her third album; you can read all about her adventures over at http://sarahblasko.wordpress.com.  

ness x

of a tree called life

oops. tonight i drank the lethal combination of sangria + white wine and now i have the hiccups. BADLY. But it was worth it; my friend CM's boyfriend and all his lovely friends have just moved right around the corner from me, which means a) fabulous fancy wine on tap (one of his housemates owns a restaurant) b) no cabs needed after late nights out and c) CM and I can now have boozy tapas dinners together and then walk home afterwards. hurrah! everyone i know is moving closer and closer to me. I already have the rooftop, and the complicated relationships; now with friends practically living next door my life is becoming more and more secret life of us every day. 

"you know when you're sitting on a chair and you lean back so you're just on two legs, then you lean too far and you almost fall over but at the last second you catch yourself? I feel like that all the time" 

on the book shelf

how great is it when a bunch of tiny good things become the subliminal building blocks of a good day? this morning my coffee was perfect, the new Vogue landed on my desk just in time for lunch in the park, i finished some work i had been procrastinating over, and I downloaded the newest episode of The Office from iTunes. hurrah! 

right now i am reading.... Giselle Scanlon's newest book: The Goddess Experience ($39.99, Harper Collins).It is the companion to her best-selling The Goddess Guide (the decadent flocked cover was enough to draw any fashionista in). Like it's older (but none the wiser) sister, The Goddess Experience is jam-packed full of Giselle's European adventures. 

The Irish-born fashion journalist shares with us her London shopping tips, the best place to buy melt-in-your-mouth macaroons in Paris, what inspires fashion queen Vivienne Westwood and tries to answer that interminable question: what makes us happy? Giselle is my modern-day Jane Austen and without doubt always manages to inspire me when I'm suffering from a case of the mean reds. 

It's a must-read! Have a fabulous friday everyone - eat some cake, drink some beer and wear a pretty frock (at least that's what I'll be doing...)

ness x

je suis de retour!

please say hello to the newest member of the ness family.... holly golightly! 

Nope, not the fictional character with a penchant for the powder room but a tiny grey-white kitten i found in Kings Cross about a week ago. Either she was dumped or escaped somewhere, but she was horribly skinny and dirty when i found her, and so hungry that she ate about two cans of tuna on the first night. The vet estimates about 9 weeks old; she is terribly affectionate but mad as a hatter. 

her likes: pouncing, eating salmon skin, licking my nose, nibbling my toes

dislikes: vegetables, the washing machine, being told what to do, running water

I didn't plan on getting a pet, but like in breakfast at tiffany's, i guess we just kinda 'hooked up by the river one day'. It seems a bit cruel to give her away when i am perfectly capable of giving her a home....

Australia Day tomorrow... not sure what i love more: the chance to celebrate my fave country in true aussie style with beer and snags, or having a day off work. I'm off to the triple j hottest 100 broadcast in Paramatta Park tomorrow which i'm so excited about. Has been a fab year for music so am really curious to see who makes it into the final countdown. My bet for top position is either Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire or MGMT's Electric Feel.  I hope it's MGMT; you all know my stance on Sex on Fire by now i'm sure...

ness x

all our tomorrows

hello lovelies. bit of a change of scenery tonight -- gone is the gritty hustle and bustle of kings cross, replaced by the gentle hum of late-evening adelaide, basking in the aftermath of a hot summer day. I'm sitting in my dear papa's l'apartmento, overlooking the bright glow of city lights and the shadowy darkness of the adelaide hills. In the distance dark clouds soar overhead, illuminated by the faint pulsing of those red lights on dangerously high cranes.

not terribly much to report, only that i flew in to the motherland eary yesterday morning and am having a marvelous time gallavanting around familar streets with family + friends. I saw the film Slumdog Millionaire (which gets 5 very gold stars fom this reviewer) yesterday, visited my slightly deranged grandmother in a retirement home and paid a mouth-wateringly delicious visit to the Haighs HQ in Unley. I've drank Long Island iced teas in the hot sun, shopped for jam jars, sunk my teeth into hot salty chips from my fave greek cafe Eros and lounged around with my dad watching thriller spy movies on foxtel. Early night tonight, then dinner with the girls tomorrow morning. god i love holidays....

ness x

summer playlist

sundresses // salty lips // wet hair on bare shoulders // blackened toes peeking gamely through sandals // minty mojitos // cherry lipgloss // picnics in the park // sandy sheets // blurry polaroids // summer tunes...

that beep -- architecture in helsinki

turbo love -- bag raiders

you don't know me -- ben folds feat. regina specktor

polite dance song -- the bird and the bee

the sea is rising -- bliss n eso

halo -- bloc party

awkward orchid orchard -- the boat people

dawn of the dead -- does it offend, yeah?

in step -- girl talk

here's the thing -- girl talk

oh my god -- ida maria

i like you so much better when you're naked -- ida maria

the fear -- lily allen

brandy alexander -- feist

the youth -- MGMT

electric feel -- MGMT

the festival song -- pez

soon we'll be found -- sia

the summer -- josh pyke

paris is burning -- ladyhawke

my delirium -- ladyhawke

dusk till dawn -- ladyhawke

ness x

it's just a hop-skip-jump

'tis very early saturday morning here in ol sydney-town. rain has been blanketing the city since midday yesterday and seems it will never stop. What a funny state the world becomes when the weather gets out of kilter! A dark sky, the gently pitter-patter of salty rain and suddenly.... traffic turns to gridlock, people cancel plans, abandoned umbrellas turned inside out from gusty wind line the footpath and inappropriately dressed girls wail and clutch the hems of their crotch-skimming skirts. 

All trains going to the eastern 'burbs were cancelled this afternoon so I walked home from the CBD in the rain; one of my favourite things to do. I shoved my mangled umbrella in my bag, pushed my fringe out of my eyes with my fabulous new Mimco headband (thank you zeddy! -- who ever said rain was unfashionable?) and fast-forwarded to the rainy-day tunes on my ipod. 

I've been listening to a lot of Girl Talk lately which is peculiar considering i ab-so-lu-tely HATED him when he first made the aussie airwaves a year or so back. I think his mash-up remixes are pretty freakin' good though, and it's grown on me to the point that it's the first music i play when i leave the house each morning. Something about it puts a little hop-skip-jump in my step. You can listen for yourself on his myspace page; my faves are In Step, Here's The Thing + Let Me See You. 

I went to sushi + el cheapo vino night with friends this evening; now I am sprawled out on my bed with the windows pushed wide open and a strong breeze cool on my cheeks. Somewhere far in the distance someone is playing wailing Irish tunes, and a girl is yelling repeatedly for a taxi. Sires are bleating, cicadas are chirping and the sweet tang of dope wafts through my bedroom window. Talk about oxymorons.

And the air smells damp, like it's been locked up for years and years, left in a heap in the back of someone's Great Aunt Mildred's mothball-ridden closet. Now it's finally been released and is playing havoc on all the sandal-wearing, sunscreen-toting city residents. 

Tomorrow the wind will halt and change direction, the clouds will sink lower and the sun will rise high in the morning air, raising the temp to a sweltering 34 degrees. Hello summer dresses! no wonder we're all so bloody confused...

ness x

nightminds

i am...  listening to the rain, falling in love all over again with ani difranco, drinking mango nectar, cleaning my apartment, wishing it wasn't already monday morning, trying on new shoes, reading new confessions on PostSecret...

a little yellow mellow

I woke this morning to a cacophony of sounds. A girl in the next-door backpackers hostel was sobbing, the muffled cries creeping through her open third-floor windows and floating on the beat of the carrying wind. She was taking gasping hiccupy breathes and i so wish i could've asked what was wrong. It's a little discerning hearing stranger's cry; even now I'm still pondering what was making her so sad on a sunny saturday morning. 

Some of the homeless folk from the nearby Wayside Chapel must have went a little crazy on the town last night (didn't we all), for sprawled out on the alleyway this morning on the searing concrete were 5 or 6 of them, beer bottles in hand and heads slightly lolling to one side. "fuuuuucck" the one with the beanie repeats sporadically. Then the rest chime in "fuuuuucck" After a while one of the men turns his beatbox on, and the stactic-y mumblings of early morning talkback radio joins the girl's hiccupy sobs on the passing breeze. 

And up on the backpacker's rooftop, a rowdy gang of scantily dressed boys are frying up bacon and eggs on their rusty Webber, squirting tangy sauce into squishy white rolls and scoffing them down, ciggys in hand. A couple of the still-slightly-drunk boys kick empty beer bottles around like soccer balls, exulting in glorious glee when a goal is scored. At around 11 they'll quieten down, and retreat to their beds for a midday snooze so they'll be ready to partake in another night of noisy reveling. It's always the same. 

And soon, the girl will cease crying, and a police car will roll gently into view, usher the inebriated men and their talk-back radio friends back to the Chapel, where they will be clothed and fed and showered, and no doubt continue to loll on the pavement in the hot morning sun. It's always the same. 

Any second now I'm going to peel myself from the couch and do a spot of apartment cleaning, have a shower, drink some juice etc. I'm off to the coast tonight; my friend's having her engagement party up in Terrigal so another friend and I are driving up there this arvo and staying the night in a creaky house by the sea. I haven't been any further north than Manly yet so am awfully excited to go exploring. 

I might go for a wander down to Paddington today too; i still need to buy an engagement gift, do some more chrissy shopping and am desperately craving a mango smoothie from Ampersand. Tomorrow night I will be popping along to my best friend's house in erskineville for a garage sale and barbeque (read: excuse to drink beer on a Sunday night) although I should probably be good and go to yoga. CONUNDRUM

While i let my moral conscious fight it out, i shall bid you adieu and vehemently SWEAR that i will be back posting more regularly from now on. (cross my heart and kiss my elbow)

ness x

tell me what can i do

the next three weeks leading up till the 19th (when we break from work) are going to be absolutely crazy busy so when i discovered that i no longer had to babysit tonight, i decided to skip yoga (bad ness) and instead do the following

-- paint my toenails

-- wash my dishes

-- listen to Sia really loud on repeat

-- jump around my apartment dancing like a loony

-- choose a dress to wear to my birthday dinner friday night and try it on with all my heels until i have the perfect combination

-- call my friend Prue and gossip about how atrocious it was that Danielle got booted off Stylista

-- then, sit in bed with a cup of tea and read Englby (Sebastian Faulks) until my eyes go blurry

i am delightfully shallow, no? granted, i'm normally a pretty always-on-the-go kinda girl but don't you just ever need a free night just to do whatever the hell you feel like doing...?

ness x

soon we'll be found

can't sleep and am so in love with Sia's new single Soon We'll Be Found from her new album Some People Have Real Problems. 

ness x

...the old man is snoring

one of my favourite things to do on a friday night when i am without plans (or sufficient funds) is catch a 6.45 yoga class, pull a rainy day dvd off the shelf and eat a steamy bowl of udon noodle soup. 

As i walked home from yoga tonight, trying to balance my mat, purse, keys and japanese takeaway without much luck, the wind suddenly stopped. The air shifted; i could feel it cool on my cheeks. A blurry streaky mess of hot blues and dark indigo covered the sky, erupting in a series of spectacular light shows and casting shadows on the nearby city skyscrapers. The clouds swam recklessly before my eyes, quickly turning the colour of swollen bruises and spilling open to reveal thousands of tiny hot droplets, which ran rivulets down my temples and into the small of my back. 

The backpackers across the way are dancing in the rooftop in their underwear; fluro coloured sparklers alight from their fingertips. The drunk boys congregated in the main strip of the cross yelp and holler like adolescents, while the scantily dressed girls scream and grab at the ends of their chemically straightened hair. 

have a fabulous weekend my pets. i am planning to wine and dine with some old adelaide friends so i know i will :)

ness x

i want a song i can sing forever

Josh, dump your girlfriend and marry me instead, okay?

ness x

the capital of everything possible

one day i will go to new york and eat bagels and drink horrible coffee and ride the subway and step in gum and go to the ballet and visit gloomy secondhand bookstores and listen to jazz in underground bars and learn to finally like martinis and work in a publishing house or maybe at the new yorker and buy a loft where i will live with a grey cat called cloudy. 

"over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of non-olfactory money. The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and beauty in the world"

-- F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

happy dreaming...

ness x

a time for change

dear americans,

tomorrow you will go to the polls and the world waits with bated breath. I'm a little worried, to be honest. It's a fact that the past often dictates the present, and if voting for Bush not once but twice is anything to go by, then quite frankly, we're screwed. The polls are up, the news keeps reporting. Obama is strong, he's unbeatable, he's the one. But still, I'm obsessing about it. My palms are sweaty, my eyes wide. I feel sick. I fear the fear of the Americans. Please, PLEASE do the right thing tomorrow. We're all depending on you.

yours in hope,

ness

ten reasons why I'm supporting Obama (and you should too)

1. A vote for McCain is a vote for Sarah Palin. At 70, McCain is highly unlikely to last out his 4 years in the White House. Do you want a gun wielding, pro-life, ignorant, psychotic, inappropriate winker at the helm of United States? She's a fucking disgrace to the female race. 

2. Financially, we're currently looking at a bleak prosperity. We need someone who will inspire us to be the best we can possibly be. Obama inspires hope, he inspires change. His gift for oratory is enough to put a spring in our steps, a morsel of belief in our being. We're inspired to change.

3. You can't 100% guarantee that anyone will be a good leader, but Obama really grasps the significance of this particular period in time, and I believe that he understands that ideology is not policy and policy is not ideology. 

4. Obama is a strong advocate of our natural environment and is passionate about investing in our planet, not just for 'right now' but long-term. He wants to put policies in place that support alternative fuels and renewable energy, including a plan to increase America's energy efficiency and create 5 million new "green" jobs.

5. He wants to responsibly end the war in Iraq. Unlike Hilary, whose plan was to just yank the troops out, Obama understands that it's an eventual progress that must be monitored carefully. He's been critical of "Operation: Kill Innocent Iraqis" from the beginning, but still, he recognises that the US needs to clean up the mess they've made before they leave.

6. Unlike the Republican ticket, Obama supports a woman's right to chose what happens to her body and is an advocate for equal pay for equal work. He wants to expand the childcare tax credit and is passionate about implementing paid maternity leave for parents.

7. If you are an American citizen earning less than 250,000, your taxes will decrease. A fairer wage for a fairer world. 

8. The world supports Obama. In September of this year, the BBC polled 22,000 people across 22 countries which revealed that the Democratic candidate is preferred by a four to one margin. In 17 of the 22 countries polled, the majority think that if Obama is elected, relations between the US and the rest of the world will improve. If not, the belief in America as a strong, democratic nation will continue to deteriorate.

9. McCain voted with Bush 95% of the time. We cannot afford to have a Bush clone, or even someone who is influenced by his policies, in power. 

10. Obama gives me hope; McCain/Palin scare the shit out of me. If I had the ability to vote tomorrow, i would chose the candidate who will move the US and the world forward and begin to correct the mistakes that have been made over the last eight years.

I'm terrified, I'm shaking in my skin. But I have faith that the US will make the right decision. I don't want to imagine the alternative. So here's a message from me to my fellow American bloggers: Don't. Screw. It. Up. 

tales of the city

My music-love of the moment is FisherKing, a four piece Indie outfit from Sydney. When I'm at work late, I crank up triplej on my blue Tivoli radio; it keeps me company. I discovered this jewel of a band Thursday night while suffering from writers block and in desperate need of inspiration. Their debut single Smelling Roses did it for me; hopefully it gets your creativity racing too.

And for those trashy TV junkies (okay, me), I hope you've all been keeping up with the goss -- Whitney from The Hills is getting her own show, 'The City". Trailer is below. I just can't wait to spend an hour watching the fashionista stumble through the NY fashion world, with her breathy little-girl voice and incessant need to ask the most ridiculously obvious questions. the Australian boy is smokin' though...  Ah, i see another drinking game on the horizon...

happy sunday!

ness x

just a quickie

So. I'm sitting cross-legged on my couch in my apartment, watching Will&Grace while i smother rice crackers in hummus.  I had one of those infuriatingly irritating I-Just-Want-Tear-My-Hair-Out-And-Yell-At-Everyone-On-The-Phone day. Seriously, people (read: magazine readers) are annoying. And the trains were late going to work and coming home today. And i got screamed at by a woman at Martin Place because i didn't give up my seat for her pregnant daughter (i was supposed to notice a three-week fetus?) And i spilt water all over my mac keyboard and had to spend half an hour arguing with the IT boys trying to negotiate a new one AND...

nah, rant over. I'm off to stand on my head at yoga to try and squash all this negativeness out of me. Tomorrow night i'm going to help Samsung celebrate it's 21st birthday but i promise you all a late-night post cheerfully mocking all of Sydney's appliance A-list...

ness x

ps. Karl Lagerfeld + the Fug Girls = hilarity

the castle in the forest

Most of the time, i love living in Kings Cross. the noise, the stereotypes, the contradictions, the grit and the grime and the bright lights; it all feels a part of me, knitted deep in my being. Like i was always meant to end up here, living a faux sort of bohemian life. That being said, sometimes this place breaks my heart. It is slowly corrupting me, forcing me to realise that not all in the world is good and fair.

Last night, around 2am, when the moon was high in the sky and the hemisphere teetered in that impossible time between yesterday, today and tomorrow, i was awaken by two people having noisy, awkward, drunken sex. They were squatting down in the alleyway that my apartment windows look out onto; her blonde head was jammed into the cold concrete, his was balding and bobbing up and down. 

The streets were bare, the corners and alleyways sunk in darkness -- a rarity for the early hours of Sunday morning in the cross. A hazy film had drifted over the city as if, without the intense activity of the imbibers, it too had fallen into an uneasy depression. Like usual, my windows were flung open -- it is not uncommon for me to overhear going-ons in the alleyway; when sex is being traded for drugs or the drunk partygoers are trashing a car, i often make the practised call to KX police station, staying awake until the gentle roar of the marked car rolls into vision, and i can unclench my pillow from my sweaty hands.

Back to last night. After they'd pulled their clothes back on, the man and woman slumped against the dirty brick of my building, sticking their feet into the gutter where beer bottles and the stump of cigarettes lay rotting. They talked... no, she talked, wailed, sobbed, swore and shouted. He listened, only sporadically would a drunken slur of 'baby, it's all right. baby, give me a hug. baby..." come out of his mouth.

When you overhear someone else's life story, their sins and hopes and regrets, their time in prison and the 7 years they were abused as a child, you get trapped in a strange mix of emotions. I feel sad, of course, but the sadness you feel when watching a film, or listening to a heart-wrenching song. It draws emotions, but a sort-of detached emotion -- knowing you can't help or fix or totally understand the situation. 

And i feel a little violated too; like i've been forced to read a stranger's private diary. That sinking-stomach feeling when you've been told a secret you know you can never tell. Being witness to such absurdities blackens my heart a little more each time; it honestly all frightens me and makes my little world of books and writing seem altogether rich and terribly safe.

I grew up knowing i was 'lucky'; living here reiterates it that much more. Please don't take for granted what you have; if you are loved and have somewhere to sleep at night, isn't that enough, at least for right now?

ness x

it's raining, its pouring... pancakes?

happy wednesday dear readers. i have to 'fess that tonight i did this:

(minus the cute boy, the New York background and the gyrating hip movements)

...and then i ate this:

I blame it entirely on the sudden shift in weather; the early evening darkness and the splotchy pitter-patter of sporadical rain makes me crave warm, comforting food. Am feeling a tad bit seasick now though... 'tis a very good thing the pancakes didn't come first in that chain of events. 

ness x

hello monday

ladies, listen up! if you love shoes and bags and sparkly brooches, but want to read about them in a magazine that encourages environmental-love, Peppermint Magazine is calling your name. This brand spankin' new 'green' mag is jammed full of eco-conscious fashion, from organically farmed cotton tees, recycled jewelry and bespoke canvas bags. With it's refreshingly clean layout, spunky prose and a deep passion for fashion, this is one new mag you'll want to get your little mitts on. Issue 1 out now, head to www.peppermintmag.com for more details.

Has anyone been watching the Rachel Zoe Project? (on Bravo for you Foxtel-ites, on YouTube for us free-to-airers). I know that she resembles more of an over-tanned, buck-toothed ferret than a fashion stylist, but gawd it's entertaining. I want to start a new drinking game (no kids, alcohol is not cool) where:

:: one has to take a swig every time Rachel calls Taylor/Marisa/Rodger her "rock"

:: two swigs every time Taylor rolls her eyes

:: three swigs every time Brad says something adorably random 

:: just drown the whole bottle every time Rachel gasps and slurs "Oh my god, I die".

The new Frankie (Nov/Dec) comes out on Wednesday. Major kudos to those hard-working gals in the subscription department; i received my subscriber copy this morning. I am practicing an unusually large amount of self-restraint -- as i type i can see a corner of the plastic-wrapped mag peeking out of my bag. Normally i rip it open the minute i lay my grubby little paws on it, but alas i am babysitting again tomorrow night, and feel the need to have something wonderful to curl up with once the kidlets are in bed. 

An issue for the rock chicks, it not only boasts interview with Kings of Leon, Emiliana Torrini and Ladyhawke but a special on how to make your own Christmas Pudding. funky tunes+pudding = love. 

oh, i have to post this, the newest rant by the girls at Go Fug Yourself. The cereal-out-the-nose-thing happened AGAIN. i really have to work on that...

ness x

ETA: you would not believe the number of people who found their way to my blog last night by googling "gabriella cilmi drunk". I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought she was oddly slurry and inarticulate...