Get a haircut

First I thought CAKE, then I thought PINATA, then I thought, no, let's do a DRESS. But do you think I actually did any of these things? Of course not. And that, strange creature, is the beauty of the blog. Try it. Many things can be said and written, promises, musings and histories, they all get writ down. Whether or not they ever occur or mount to much is not in the PD of the blog and neither I nor the blog will be held accountable for your virtual disapointment. The plain truth has always belonged in another stratosphere that I'd rather not contend with and prefer not to acknowledge it's possible existence.

And anyway, Caitlin's party didn't need my baking and craft corner intruding, it was just dandy in itself. Lots of good people came out of the woodwork and danced to Madonna. Something got broken, somebody fell down, somebody threw up on Ewan's slab, all the prerequisites that are required so you know you are having a party were met early on. It was great, I want to do it again. Caitlin, lets have tea on friday, ok?

I'm waiting by the phone again today. Why do they tell me that they love me and then never call?

I think I need a haircut.
"Get a haircut" - that's what my Dad told me to say to Jeff Kennet if I ever saw him. I think it was for when I was performing with my primary school band in Melbourne Parliment House. Shame, Jeff never showed up. I wrote him a letter once, somethng about not needing a Grande Prix and could he consider improving hospital facilities and the Elephant encloser at the zoo. Not sure if it ever got sent. Do you think he will come back? No, me neither.

Here is a slightly out-of-focus picture of my cat.