What Women Want (bandwagon jumper #1)

So the laydeez are posting in their droves on the topic of choice. I, for one, won't miss this opportunity to add my 10c worth. Like many before me, I won't presume to know what ALL women want. But I can comment on what I wish for all women. And because I'm feeling quite soppy this afternoon (after having just revelled in the glorious presence of my mother-in-law to be [one day] at lunch), I'll tell you I wish upon all you laydeez a loved-one like mine.

I'm not sure why things are particularly good right now. Perhaps it's because we've been discussing, a lot lately, the likelihood of my (potential) pending departure from this brown land for 12 months. For those of you who know my man, you'll know he and I aren't much into displays of public affection - much as we are in love. This stems largely from us sharing the same friends from prior to us getting together almost eight years ago. We're private with our affection because we don't like to make friends and acquaintances feel uncomfortable, we like to be engaged with for our own personalities (not our couple-ness) and we like to keep what is ours, ours. But I thought, just this once, I'd let you in on the things I want - and get - from my Puku.

* he is rational and fiercely loyal.
* he would never betray a confidence. Ever.
* he loves his family as much as I love mine.
* he never breaks a promise (I can find anything out this way...)
* he is cautious when meeting people but surprises them with a wit that won't quit when finally comfortable.
* he loves dogs.
* he dislikes cats (I'm allergic).
* he indulges me my fantasies.
* he is kind to our friends.
* he doesn't shoot his mouth off.
* he loves breakfasts out on the weekends. We share a passion for a cooked brekky over a newspaper.
* he is hot. and has an arse like a racehorse. (Muscly, not huge.)
* he's a great cook.
* he gives the most incredible cuddles from behind. I DETEST the term 'spooning', but his talent for this is amazing. Mostly because we've got this thing where the top of one person's foot rests on the sole of the other's...
* he has excellent circulation.
* he is focussed, works incredibly hard and has a creativity that astounds me.
* he encourages me to try new things.
* he makes the best coffee.
* he is quietly proud of me.
* he's my best friend.

Ok, that's enough sap for one year. But I truly wish that every one of you beautiful ladies out there gets to enjoy the kind of pleasure I've enjoyed over the past seven years and nine months (oooh yes, I mean in THAT way too!) Now go forth and find your respective hotnesses. And if you've already done so, go plan that romantic dinner you've been waiting for him to organise.

I love junkets (and not the custardy type)

mansion
Originally uploaded by Puku e Puku.

I haven't had that many junkets in my time, but this one takes the cake. Or custardy junket. You choose.
So this is the view I woke up to from my hotel window on Saturday morning. Pretty rough, huh? Yeah, well if I can make you even more jealous, the waking up bit followed a five course meal with a rather large selection of wines the night before.
But, as they say, there's no such thing as a free lunch. And if that saying can be applied to dinners as well, it would seem 'they' are right. I paid for it dearly the next day. So although this picture captures a refined, tasteful morning setting, the camera would have told a rather different story had it been turned 180 degrees. Oh yes. Hangover central. In fact, I got so drunk the night before, when my beloved and I returned to our room, I picked a ridiculously irrational fight, to which he responded with a mature and fitting - potentially even conciliatory - act... he filled the tub in our lush bathroom. And what did I do? Well, I promptly fell asleep.
So, it just shows, you can take your lover away on a romantic weekend at one of the nicest five star hotels in the state - and still swiftly render yourself scoreless.
Oh well, we laughed about it the next morning over a cooked breakfast and I found solace in a half hour massage at the day spa before we left. Jealous? Cope.

Alright, alright! Just one more

places of worship
Originally uploaded by Puku e Puku.

Places of worship.

one more...

afternoon
Originally uploaded by Puku e Puku.

Aaa...aaa....afternoon delight

cont'd...

Flagstaff
Originally uploaded by Puku e Puku.

I laugh in the face of train station photography prohibition...

Ok, here they are....

Post-apocalyptic Footscray
Originally uploaded by Puku e Puku.

So the Blogger Images option doesn't work.

Trusty ol' Flickr...

Latest pics

So I'm planning an exhibition soon. Here are some of my pics, which you just might see if you trapse along to wherever I'm gonna host this shindig when it happens - probably some time in August. I won't reveal the theme just yet - but rest assured there is one. My fellow photogs are out snapping their contributions as we speak.

Movie of the Week: Batman Begins

I really must stand and applaud Christopher Nolan.
Who is Christopher Nolan, you might ask? Why, the director of Batman Begins! Batman Begins?!! Isn't that just a terrible attempt to erase moviegoers' minds of anything resembling George Clooney in latex? you say. Well, yes. And no. I actually came out of this movie last night very impressed. And not just meh, that was pretty good - as far as adapted DC Comics go... impressed. This is actually a spectacular film.

Ok, now I'm not going to go all IMDB movie reviewer on you.
[Example: "I got a chance to see 'Batman Begins' just this past Friday evening. I must say that before seeing the film, I felt in my heart this is the 'Batman' film we've been waiting for. Within ten minutes into the movie, I turned to my date and said to her, "This is it! This is the movie!" ]
Firstly, I wouldn't be so foolish as to turn to my date and utter something so transparently nerdy. And secondly, I took two dates to the film last night. But yes, I'll admit, I did get 'utterly transported' in the way Hollywood used to move me as a child, and I'll also admit to grinning girlishly at both of my dates in turn at certain Christian Bale moments.

For those wondering, like I did as I left the cinema, yes, but who IS this Christopher Nolan? He was the director of Memento. An all-star cast certainly helped: Christian Bale, Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Christian Bale, Rutger Hauer, Katie Holmes, Liam Neeson, Christian Bale, Tom Wilkinson, Cillian Murphy (28 Days Later), Christian Bale, Ken Watanabe (The Last Samurai), Christian Bale and Christian Bale.

Verdict: The action is actiony, the plot is filled with plot (unlike some other actiony films) and Katie Holmes does a really good job of making you forget about Tom Cruise for a couple of hours. Katie Holmes also has extremely perky nipples throughout, which may also have aided as a distraction tool. (Strangely enough, it was only the female date and I who noticed this glaringly obvious wardrobe detail.)

Four stars.

Don't Miss: the party scene where Bale fleetingly turns back into Patrick Bateman (minus the chainsaw).

HTML sux

It's true I once learned the art of HTML coding in Online Journalism - just one of the many enthralling subjects I studied at university.

But I can't quite recall the class covering the basics of How to Fix Code in a Blog You May Have Started but Fucked Up Spectacularly by Adding Something as Simple as a Few Links.

I just spent the best part of an hour trying to recover everything I've blogged so far. Finally, thankfully, it's back (I know you're all breathing a massive sigh of relief. I mean, where would the world be...) and I'm also sporting links. So those of you who have made it thus far, consider this a greater privilege than normal.

I must send a huge thankyou to Fluffy. Not because I tracked her mobile number down in a frenzy in my time of blogging panic. No. She just has a similar looking site to mine, so viewing and copying her "source" came in handy. (The one thing I learned from html class....)

(P.S. - If I could be bothered finding a random picture of the nerdiest nerd on Google, saving it, then uploading it to Flickr and downloading it to my blog, all the while biting my thumb at copyright laws, just to best illustrate what a nerd I've become tonight, I would. But I can't, so I won't.)

The peep show that comes to you!

So I've successfully done three parts of stuff all again on another fine Monday in Melbourne-town. Well, that's not true. I managed to get up early to start my new regime of solo yoga practise (and no, that's not a euphemism...), made porridge for breakfast (like I'd promised myself) and then suddenly, inexplicably, there were boobies in my face.

(Bet that got your attention, huh?!)

It all happened when a friend called to ask if we could catch up for a coffee and, being the easily distracted at-home worker, I said "I don't know... I'm kind of working... sure, why not?!". Of course, I tried to cover up my tendency to procrastinate and surf blogs all day by insisting we meet "somewhere close to my place", which meant, pretty much anywhere in the city. Now, I was thrilled to catch up with this friend, because she's one of my best mates and I haven't seen her in ages. For efficiency, let's call her... Samantha. Anyway, Samantha was ecstatic because she'd just spent the better part of her morning throwing money at lingerie saleswomen. And what girl wouldn't be ecstatic after spending a morning like that? But Samantha was particularly ecstatic because, as a brilliant - but struggling - artist, she had just completed a particular job (and no, that's not a euphemism either...) which afforded her an expendable amount of cash for the first time in a long time. So we did the girlie thing and started dragging out the purchases one by one. Cute jumper... nice shirt... ooh! hot jeans! and then... lots - and I mean lots - of lingerie. Now the lunching suits were starting to miss their mouths, so I quickly suggested she come up to my place and do a trade. She could check out my new coat (mmm... aahhhhh... coat...) and I would see all of her purchases in detail.

So she did.

And wouldn't you know it, boys and girls... I got a full-on catwalk parade and change-session of a whole new lingerie collection! There were french knickers, padded bras (not that she needed it, if you know what I mean, fellow surfboards?!), full-body strapless lounging numbers and even a suspender set. I tell you, it was any bloke's (or that-way-inclined girl's) fantasy. I mean, it's the middle of the day and I've got this sexy, voluptuous woman trying on a series of next-to-nothings for me and - here's the kicker - telling me how she just wants to meet 'the one'. She says she's not settling any more. He's gotta be a keeper. So anyway, I'm not about to tell you this Monday lunchtime turned into any kind of B-grade porn starring Samantha and friends... I just wanted to assure any of you good-natured, creative, sexy, inquiring fellas out there... these fantasies really can come true!!!
You've just got to be at my place at 1pm on a Monday.

The first weekend to follow a long weekend is always much too short

It might've been short, but it sure packed a punch. Add these ingredients, stir - and you might come close to what my weekend was like:
~ Friday night dinner party with friends, where my beloved and I effortlessly looked like Iron Chefs (as per last post)
~ a kickass Saturday morning yoga session (I love my yoga instructor. She rocks my world!)
~ multi-denominational Saturday arvo women's meeeting/lunch to welcome new Islamic women to Melbourne. Some topical conversation, HEAPS of food and the destruction of plenty of ignorance barriers...
~ coffees at Lygon Food Store followed by 'The Assassination of Richard Nixon' at the Nova with a darling friend
~ shopping in Brunswick Street today where I bought my dream coat*
~ dinner at the Napier (Meals as big as your head. Oh yes...)
~ several text messages back and forth with one of my beloved lasses in London

And now, post-prandial bliss. Ah yes. But how could it possibly be Monday tomorrow? Went much too quickly. I think it's true that the first weekend after a long weekend always seems much shorter than any other. But it's also almost winter solstice, so the days always seem short until you're over 'the hump'.

(* This is not just any dream coat. I would die for this coat. It's a long, military green, thick, woollen beefcake of a thing, with structured seams, pockets with zips (oh yes. I said zips on the pockets, even!) and buckle detailing that would make you want to bend me over and take me right there in the cell block like the sexy dominatrix Russian prison guard I am. Well it had better have that effect, because it cost a freakin' fortune. But when you've been dreaming about a coat since you saw it in passing three whole weeks ago, it's time to suck it up and pull out the plastic. It hurt, but not so much that the post-purchase bliss didn't take over within seconds of walking out the door. And as my beloved says - "it's an investment". I'll have it forever. God I love him. Couldn't stand having to hide shopping bags. Hey, it's my money anyway, right? Fo sheezy.)