(no subject)
Well I hope Christmas for thems what did it was good for all. Mine was lovely -- perfectly relaxed, pleasant (I am blessed with an agreeable and non-cantankerous family) and satisfying. And Boxing Day, being one of the most lovely days of the year, was spent sitting in the sunshine, reading two Quarterly Essays and helping my mother do the weeding. You couldn't ask for nicer.*
Plus: AWESOME. My parents bought me a ticket for a private chartered group trip on THIS SAILING SHIP. I am taking to the high seas! Luff up, luff up! Reef topgallantsails! Abaft the puddenings! etc. My Nelson complex is going to go totally out of control.
* though then we watched a very intense documentary about the Asian Tsunami. A bit hard to make conversation after that.
Now I am back at my place and, oh dear. My cute-couple neighbours (not the screeching hideous bogan Vickis; not the 5.1-surround-sound downstairs neighbours, and not the neighbours on the other side with the little girl who loudly skips and sings outside at frighteningly early hours of the day, thus waking me up with a peevish child-hating look on my face) -- no, the adorable little couple downstairs in the block outside my office window, whom I watch putting their laundry away and watering their pot plants in their underpants -- are making love. I can tell. I can tell because I am unwittingly listening to their every moan. Cute. Summer is so vivid.
Note to me: if I were ever to actually have sex in this apartment (have lived here for a year now, never happened), close the windows.
Plus: AWESOME. My parents bought me a ticket for a private chartered group trip on THIS SAILING SHIP. I am taking to the high seas! Luff up, luff up! Reef topgallantsails! Abaft the puddenings! etc. My Nelson complex is going to go totally out of control.
* though then we watched a very intense documentary about the Asian Tsunami. A bit hard to make conversation after that.
Now I am back at my place and, oh dear. My cute-couple neighbours (not the screeching hideous bogan Vickis; not the 5.1-surround-sound downstairs neighbours, and not the neighbours on the other side with the little girl who loudly skips and sings outside at frighteningly early hours of the day, thus waking me up with a peevish child-hating look on my face) -- no, the adorable little couple downstairs in the block outside my office window, whom I watch putting their laundry away and watering their pot plants in their underpants -- are making love. I can tell. I can tell because I am unwittingly listening to their every moan. Cute. Summer is so vivid.
Note to me: if I were ever to actually have sex in this apartment (have lived here for a year now, never happened), close the windows.