And now I’m on a plane to New York. I have 60 hours in New York City: it feels like a challenge. I’ve never liked this city. However, I’m fairly certain that that’s my fault, not its.
This post is essentially my confession: confessions of a fortnight misspent in Melbourne’s dens of iniquity and raw fish.
“All wrong, all wrong!”
Well, great. Just what you want to hear whilst naked and vulnerable on a table.
And I am a freaking typical Libran.
When you just really want to get creative with your drinking.
Date: 31 August, the last day of winter here. Location: Bed! Three years ago, Bunky and I realised that what was really missing from our social calendar was a competitive […]
Date: 6 August. Location: Rokk Ebony hairdresser, getting my balayaged mane tamed. And I feel about 13 years old as mum has offered to pay (obviously, even via FaceTime, the […]