I'm still not certain what to think of The Hollowmen.

I keep persisting with it week after week, hoping it'll be more interesting. The first episode didn't inspire me, but subsequent ones haven't been too bad. Not great, but not appalling.

I remember Frontline, it's still good more than a decade later, but The Hollowmen isn't really of the same quality. Perhaps it would have been a bit better if it was around election time last year. Maybe the endless meetings make me think too much of endless meetings that often seem quite pointless.

Tonight's episode is annoying me with the whistling thing because it reminds me of that ad for Foxtel or whatever it is with the guy who whistles over technological advances made in TVs. And which makes me stabby.

Perhaps some of the feeling of "meh" about The Hollowmen has to do with going a bit cool on politics of late. At least the Liberals have gotten on board with the climate change thing, after much floundering around by Brendoc (who ended up looking rather stupid, especially since what's being agreed to is basically what the government under John Howard was proposing last year).

I just hope it'll bring an end to him mentioning "emissions" all the time. Or "emissions showdowns" being mentioned in the news.

Emission line.

^ And yet another photo.

^ Tried to get a photo of the bees on the wattle at lunch time, but they were pretty flighty. This was the only one that worked out.

^ Photo from yesterday.

*shakes fist*

Damn you and your poppy candy ways, Pop Rocks!

Also, when throwing Strawberries and Cream lollies at the officemate, try not to accidentally smack them in the eyebrow with one. It startles them a bit. Or throw it a bit too hard when they're trying to catch the lolly with their mouth... Oops.

^ Melbourne-y bits.

Mourning to Night

Went to the Black in Fashion: Mourning to Night exhibition being run by the NGV. Due to the Ian Potter Centre being closest to Flinders Street Station, we went there first and oh my goodness. The clothing was fantastic. All of the pieces there were Australian items and were gorgeous, particularly the dress above, which was worn by a widow to her daughter's wedding.


The Ian Potter Centre is fantastic, in other thoughts. I love all of the angles and it's wonderfully sleek at the same time.


Loved this jacket (it was part of the collection at the centre). We then went on to the rest of the exhibition at the NGV. It was surprisingly small and surprisingly not much of a collection. There were a few nice items, but on the whole, the Australian ones were better. And the only accessory was a pair of Vivienne Westwood heels. No other black shoes, handbags, jewellery, hats, whatever. Rather disappointing, really.

But the art deco exhibition? Beyond amazing. And very crowded. But all of the items were stunning. There's a writing desk covered in white gold, gorgeous Lanvin dresses, a good amount of bakelite, lovely ceramics... There were only a couple of flapper dresses, but I guess not many of them have survived. The heavy amount of beading on fine mesh tends to weigh them down too much, especially if hung. The ultra-beaded dress that was on exhibit was stunning - Asian-style images beaded onto it, decorative hem, etc.

Photos.

Photos.

More photos.

I know that's all I've been posting lately, but there has been a serious lot of writing for work of late and that means I don't feel like writing anything in my spare time.

And there are more photos to come tomorrow. Lucky you, readers. Lucky you.

In other thoughts, I'm loving The Bill lately. But then any storyline with Smithy will make me happy - the guy who plays him is so cute. The whole story relating to Carly and her murder has been really well done.

Although the foam bricks that squish when the wheels of the cop car go over them in the riot scene just made me giggle at the most inappropriate moment.

Squishy foam bricks aside, the riot thing is actually kind of scary. Actually, not just kind of. Very. But Smithy's here now, so it's alright. I shall gaze upon him as he lays into the riot organiser.

And once more in other thoughts, I saw Peter Garrett today. I'm like, "Wooo... Oh my God, that shiny man is Peter Garrett!" It was very shiny indeed.

^ Magnolia, yesterday.

^The shadow of my boots.

^ More trolley.

^ Sunny goodness.

After a morning of frozen frozen-ness. Even the car was frosted over. Sometimes hibernation really seems like a good idea.

^ The gap, the bottle and the prohibited.

^ Blur.

Today's adventures were... adventurous...

*yawns prodigiously*

*lil' smile*

The above are some of the photos taken on travels.

One of the less adventurous things included the following exchange between myself and two guys at Spencer Street station:

Guys: Baby, your stockings look so good! They'd look even better around our necks.
Me: Like a noose?
Guys: Bitch.
Me: Yes.

Wednesday Addams, eat your heart out.

My hair still smells like cigarettes, which probably won't come out until I wash my hair. The smell reminds me of the most awesome fun afternoon with friends (who smoke, I don't - I'm a "good girl" apparently, which comes in handy sometimes).

Random thoughts from public transport

Goths in bad hats. Skinny, skinny man in winklepickers and jeans so tight his legs look like blackened matchsticks. Schoolkids. Gossip. "Crack open the coke. I don't mean the crack coke, just coke." The goth with the green umbrella, purple nails and a cheap wallet. A goth girl with awesome shoes that I seem to remember being in Target or something a year ago. Them talking about loving to dance Nutbush. Smoking teen looking weird. Modelesque girl in a flannel jacket - why does anyone think flannel jackets are any way at all flattering?

I'm over the peasant wagon.

^ McFlurry.

^ Trolley.

^ Extinguisher.

To whoever owns Azrael:

Sorry if you were worried about him last night. He decided he wanted to sleep over at my place. He turned up at my house around 10.30 last night and when I didn't let him in, he climbed up the screen door. I figured he probably just wanted a few minute's worth of attention and that was easier to do than repair a screen door, so let him in.

He went straight to my bed, jumped up on it, curled up and went to sleep. When I later went to wake him up, all he did was put his paw over his head and curl up tighter. So I let him sleep on the bed and he finally left at 5.30 this morning.

Also, I don't really appreciate being woken up by having my face licked.

Strange cat...

Regards,
Della

After an absence of about a week, Azrael turned up again yesterday. He's probably been sheltering from the freezing weather. He was in a rather snuggly mood yesterday and spent a few hours sleeping on my bed. And he's too cute to resist snuggles with.

Dammit.

I bet he does this with the whole neighbourhood.

Today's flowers

Finished watching Midsommer Murders and Rage appeared on the screen. Pennywise are hosting tonight/this morning and happened to utter the magic word of "Rammstein."

Immediately went to the playlist site, only to discover that it's only ONE Rammstein clip they're going to play. And it's from Live Aus Berlin anyway, and what self-respecting Rammstein fan doesn't have that already?

Anyways. It's all punkstuff and so far tonight all it's done has reminded me of how seriously I adored punk things when I was little. I would have been around six or so and I secretly and earnestly wanted the stereotypical safetypin piercings when older. The leather, the studs, the Britishness, the mohawks, tattoos, ripped jeans, those canvas bags everyone used to black texta up.

Which is a little odd, in retrospect.

I think it was all just the look - definitely too young to understand the anarchy/anti-authoritarian side of things at that point in time. Or even what the words "anarchy" and "anti-authoritarian" meant.

Copious amounts of snow

^ The snow from yesterday.

We left bright and early. And being so bright and early, it meant that the council/parks people hadn't cleared the roads at all and we couldn't get anywhere near the summit. And even when the snow ploughs FINALLY arrived, they spent two hours faffing about no-where near the summit. Because it's oh-so-important to clear every inch of a car park and then stand around for ages talking. Thus, it wasn't worth waiting around for them to do anything.

When we first arrived, we walked about a kilometre up to the first carpark because it was too dangerous to drive in the snow. The snow was thickly coated on everything and just gorgeous. It was silent and perfect. We were up at the carpark for a while before the snow ploughs arrived. When they did, we walked back to the car and drove up, hoping they'd clear to the summit.

But they didn't. So the answer was to walk up there. We got about half-way before time ran out (appointments, places to be, etc). But it was just so incredibly beautiful. But somehow disappointing. It's just nice to be able to go to the summit where it's clear, there are slopes and you can generally romp around.

The best thing was it snowing when we were there. The flakes were large, but delicate, soft, delicious. The second-best part is the wonderful silence mixed with the feeling of isolation when you're the only ones walking through fresh snow that's untouched by human feet. It's like being an explorer (for people who work in offices all day).

We really need more snow.