Moving house is probably one of the stressful experiences in existence - especially when one of your future housemates is interstate and the other one is in Germany, with the requisite time difference. After the initial stress of just finding a place and getting in all the paperwork and bond and so forth there was the week it took just to get electricity connected, plus the two incredibly bad flus I had, one after the other (if you saw a very fetching young lady throw up in Melbourne Central just a couple of months ago, it was probably me). And then there was the fact that the internet only got connected a week ago. Plus uni's started back. My beau came and stayed with me for three weeks after a desperate facebook message asking him to couple for a couple of days (PMT plus huge amounts of stress plus my housemate having moved out the day before, taking all the furniture with her). He helped me move, nursed me through my flus, and basically bought all of the food. He's pretty cool.
Still, I'm no Debbie Downer; the new place is awesome and the new suburb is now probably my fave suburb in Melbourne: I totally want to live here forever. I am within walking distance to books and cake, and it is amazing - especially the cake part.
I'm doing illustration for my uni's student magazine now, which is fun. I also co-wrote (and illustrated) this article on the Big Day Out for the mag: http://union.unimelb.edu.au/farrago/farrago-articles/bdo-bogans-balls-and-all
BDO was pretty rad. It was my first ever festival, so it was certainly an experience. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs killed it, and I had a life-changing experience seeing the Red Hot Chili Peppers - not because of the music, but because of Dancing On Her Own Girl (on the end of the article illustration).
She was near me in the crowd, totally in her own world while I did my awkward bop thing. She noticed me staring at her and grinning, and we chatted briefly. She was amazing, like a real-life Luna Lovegood. She said something to me, as we danced, and for the first time it really meant something: "The secret is to dance like nobody's watching". From that point the awkward bop turned into flailing limbs and headbanging and an absolutely amazing time. I lost DOHOG in the crowd, but it didn't matter; we didn't need each other. We were just dancing.
So much has happened since I last blogged and I can't remember half of what I wanted to stick in here, but now that the internet is up and running I can keep this all reg'lar-like. Just a couple more points:
My brother has a band called Frost in Space and they are actually really good. I'm doing the art for their first EP, which will be out I think next year, or maybe late this year. https://www.facebook.com/frostinspace.music?ref=ts&fref=ts
I highly recommend going dancing with circus performers - specifically contact jugglers. Being with people who are dancing to 50 Cent while contact juggling is an amazing experience.
I dyed my hair green and it is good. Next time I might write about the bizarre experience that resulted from it, but now I cannot be bothered because I want food.
I am off to food. And tea.