Romper room and my possible new room?

At the risk of turning my blog into an episode of Romper Room* (the worst tv kids show ever?) where they used to say hello to special friends in the magic mirror (ahuh, as you do), I want to wish Little Mister a belated happy b-day, and Angel a great three oh for today, and welcome back Aunty B and Biz to the land of Oz.

And speaking of rooms - the quickest of updates on the commute saga. Checked out room plus *study* in very inner city suburb in a friends share house last week. Ooh was that baby small! think double bed taking up the vast majority of floor space in the bedroom and the *study* also being a *walkway* into the outside clothes hanging space. Do i want to live in a shoebox where I will have to garage sale half my stuff and cleverly package the rest of it in stackable plastic boxes ("welcome to our lives!" I hear the inner city set cry). Do I want to live amongst urban squalor and the great chook raffling of experience from sublime to seedy to vaguely dangerous? Do I want to only see verticle lines and be surroundd by concrete? Weighed up against - do I want to get a stiff neck from sleeping upright on train for many hours a day? Do I want to invest 5 hours a day of my life just getting to and from other places I need to be? Do I want to have absolutely no time foranything else other than wporking and sleeping and traveling btwn Mon - Fri. Golly gee.

On the up side this particular home in this particular inner city suburb does have a good size 'living area' (as opposed to the bits of the house you flop around dead in?), a postage stamp side yard that I could plant a sunflower in andthat catty could sun himself in, and is a shortish walk to a community arts centre, a framing shop, an Irish restaurant (mm, just what I needed?) and lots of interesting brightly painted flakey terrace walls which I am itching to photograph. Probably also shortish walk to needle exchange, traffic jams, student squats and crime scenes - but hey, yin and yang right?

So kids, whaddya think? Should this green sea wash up on the streets of the big smoke? Can I handle the never ending proximity to people and miniaturised bonsai-like private space? Will I feel sad and mourn for my spacious book-lined study and handy built in linen presses (F it - where on earth will linen go in the potential new place??). Will moving to the city clinch once and for all that I am now returning to a sensible life of full time work and inner city single girl cliches without any of hope of a more multifaceted approach to filling ones days (bloody hope not). OR am I just a melodramatic spoilt dill who should get some perspective and be grateful for actually having a job and a home and the option of a new home? Yeah very likely.

Big hugs to everyone going through more difficult times than mine right now; anyone lonely, missing someone, not being treated nicely, worrying or wondering. I keep hearing stories that make me remember that I have very good fortune. Mermaidgrrl & Little Mister, especially thinking of you and sending you lots of happy fertile good luck vibes.

Speaking of fertility (Ed: argh- stop writing and get to bed!!), did have funny chat with (kinda cute arty buddhist) mountains fellow in the supermarket tonight (my shopping = deoderant..'which of these smells sums up exactly how I wish my armpit to be perceived and express itself in the world?', kitty litter and flat bread..live alone - who me??!)about lack of life plans. He excused me because I am a pisces - nice one! Very handy, like that. But also when I was bemoaning that I can't even figure out if I want to have babies, and that surely I should know that, so how on earth can I decide where to live, he laughed and told me that there was a little thing called the birds and the bees and that he might have to give me a little lesson on that at a later date, but probably best not in the supermarket. I laughed, firstly because I realised that it did seem like I was suggesting that I didn't actually know how to go about the process of making a baby, but also because being offered a lesson on the facts of life under the fluoro lights of Coles at 10.45 on a Tuesday night just about qualifies as a hot date these days! Of course I didn't say anything worthwhile back, because I was too tired and busy laughing at the idea that I just made an idiot of myself, although did amuse myself with several witty and even flirty imagined responses on the walk home.

* Possibly a South Australian thing? Like girls who wear lip gloss and pie floters. Should there have been a comma there - nasty image of wearing a pie floater..