just a quickie out the back...

oh, sorry! i didn't mean it THAT way!!

last night era*, fawad** and i went to a salsa club in southsea, portsmouth. we had a few shots of vodka (WHAT ELSE!) before we left because they thought it'd make me dance. and dance i did, albeit briefly.

i know you might not believe this but i actually felt shy. i used the same excuse i use when i don't want to dance at virus: "errr...um...i'm not really dressed right..." which, in this case, was sorta kinda true. but really, you and i both know it's a load of rubbish. or bollocks, as they say in these parts. so i just sat and drank pints instead.

yea, so yesterday was lubbly. got to sleep in, that is, have a REAL sleep for the first time in at least a week. picked up victor, that's era's eight year old son, from school and visited era's friend john who works in the william hardwicke hotel (that's hard willie's if you're a local) here in bognor.

and today, after era and i had a much needed greasy english fry-up and she went off to work (in the post office), i went for a walk on the "beach" and...IT WAS SNOWING ~ no shit! not much, just gentle flakes but enough to get in your hair and look pretty. hope this isn't turning into one of THOSE travel blogs...

xx

*that's iryna, my ukrainsky cousin ~ her mum and my grandma were first cousins if you MUST know!
**era's lovely twenty-two year old afghani hubby who she met salsa dancing!!

ps ~ i still can't access my gmail but should be able to sometime over the weekend

bognor

I CAN'T LOG in to email and i can't get the dvd player to work (which would only allow me to watch american pie III anyway) so until the lovely era gets home from work, i'm here to tell ya bout bognor and tokyo, i guess.

yah, hokay, well my tokyo plans ENTIRELY fell through (thanks for NOTHIN, sam) so i ended up hanging out with cameron from north dandenong. it's not as bad as it sounds though.

cameron is the TPB* who was sitting next to me on the plane. twenty-three years of age and leaving australia for the first time, he was all cute and excited. but, better than that, he was allergic to nuts so i scored all his peanuts amongst other goodies!

this, in the end, was rather lucky coz i forgot to order vegetarian meals (yup, clever, i know), so those peanuts really got me through. plus, plane food sucks no matter what so i reckon you're better off sticking to the salad and bread rolls (AND ALCOHOL) anyway.

nah, i actually didn't drink much at all even tho they had the cutest little bottles of absolut you've ever seen! i just had one mini bottle of red (jacob's creek if you MUST know) and steered clear for the rest of the trip.

well, i was asleep most of the time so it might'a been a leetle hard to be getting drunk at the same time. although in future i might try it just for the challenge!

anyway, as i said, tokyo plans fell through so cameron and i just caught the shuttle into narita for a couple of hours. narita is where the airport is so it's about an hour and a half from anything else.

but there's a little city there, which may or may not have just sprung up around the airport, and we found some crazy patchinko hall ~ i gather this is kinda like a cross between the pokies and timezone. but played using ball bearings...yah...

anyway, after that our exploring encountered a bar. a tiny bar** with a funny sign out front saying "welcome to warika pub" or something. mr north dandenong was a bit cautious about going in but must have sensed that i would have either dragged him in or left him for dead, so he came.

unsurprisingly, it turned out to be a fine idea (no false modesty, please). the owner of the bar, hiro, and his few "customers" one of whom was definitely his guitar teacher, were superlovely...i think.

we couldn't understand them much and they couldn't understand us much. but we had some beer and peanuts and our palms examined ~ really couldn't tell you what was the outcome of that. hiro told me "good health" which made me laugh but his mate, nagasawa, made ominous noises which were, it seemed, untranslatable. meh!

true to form we missed the shuttle bus back to our hotel by merely seconds. but luckily cameron north dandenong is a fit n healthy leetle munchkin so he bolted after it, making it wait for me!

anyway, era's home from work now so youse can all just WAIT for the rest. oh, just in case you DON'T know, the weather in england is bloody miserable. yesterday i think it was snowing, or if not it was damn heavy hail.

but guess who couldn't care less bout the cold?? yup...me!! more updates sooneo, love youse heaps...and miss youse too...(a bit anyway). have fun & be cheerful xx


*TPB = totally pashable boy
** if you happen to get standed out in narita, this bar is right outside keisei narita station near the am/pm.

mornings still suck

even when there's planes to catch. i guess it's more likely that this morning sucks coz i had such a hugely fantastic weekend that didn't involve much sleep. and i feel ill but can't tell if it's coz i'm sad (only a tiny bit coz i'm gonna miss my lovelies so much!), nervous, excited, hungover or otherwise.

oh, and speaking of hungover...thank YOU oh so very much to all of you that came to the napier on saturday ~ i had THE most superfantastic night and, although my memory is shot to pieces, i well remember looking around the room at you all and marvelling at my luck. and how many people get to have a farewell that lasts...oh about three days? (if you weren't there, don't panic, i still love ya!)

so now i'm at melbourne airport, having checked-in, reorganised my luggage so they'd let me on, made it through customs unscathed and duty-free too but i can't say my wallet is unscathed after that! nah, i didn't spend much, just couldn't walk past the absolut stand. hey! it's not my fault, it's my genes!!

anyway, in about eleven hours i'll be in tokyo. no confirmed plans coz i haven't heard anything from rainbow sam dagnabbit. hopefully, his friend kev will hang out with me. or a couple of japanese s. but yea...we'll see. will keep ya posted. don't be havin too much fun without me now, ya hear??!!

dasvidanya from the serial goodbyer aka a wandering emulsifier aka...yea, just me.

xx

four sleeps

yea, so i've four sleeps to go. and i'm in the soon-not-to-be my loungeroom getting very random messages from people and generally just wanting to go out.

but, tomorrow is moving day. so i really should be in bed by now. or at least sorting my shit out. but where am i? here, kanyeshna.

today was a weird day. i woke up to a dead arm. i'd (obviously) been sleeping on it for hours and it was this strange limp limb that didn't look like it belonged to me. the kind you see in your half-sleep and have to manually move to a more comfortable position. so that was my wake up.

then i spent the morning* packing and, about five~ish, met the old man for a schooner (or five) at the napes. t'was grand to see him and have a proper dad~style philosophical un-emotive discussion bout all things me. but getting home afterwards/afterwords was severely UNmotivating.

but pack i did. and i can't/shan't complain about it, 'specially as it's nearly all done. but i also wont say i wasn't glad when sqodge texted me to meet him n jo at the pub. turned out i was meeting them and my "replacement", jemima. and her "bestie" amy. which was okay too.

however, it all went severly down hill went jo and i ventured to brunswick street for some chips. okay, you're right, souvlaki king was NOT the best idea at around 11.30 on a friday night. but i haven't done it for a while and had forgotten how atrocious it could be.

suffice to say, i've discovered how easy it is to simultaneously love and hate fitzroy.

g'night

xx

thursday

YES. IT'S THURSDAY and yes. i haven't posted since sunday. i've been packing. sorry. not sorry for not posting. not sorry for packing. sorry for using packing as an excuse for not posting. all big eyes and oh glum.

i'm not glum. but i have started feeling guilty about whinging about packing and organising travel plans ~ how DO you spell whinge+ing? i feel this is important to know as a pending english teacher...

oh yea, pending english teacher, nice segue huh? elisabeth, my soon-to-be neighbour from across the road, is a teacher. grade three if i remember correctly. and last time i was staying in downtown k-burg city* i went to the school she teaches at.

ostensibly, i went to help the kiddies with their english. i only went a few times. we played a few games. everything went well. they even LIKED me. not sure why but guessed it must have been the language barrier, protecting them from my hating-children-ness.**

but then, all of a sudden, the gorgeous gabs came to crashing into my little idyll of lederhosen and sturm. and, together, we tried to teach the kids a song that we thought would help them the learn ordinal [check out my tefl lingo!] numbers in english. the song was
99 bottles of beer.

i know what you're thinking but really, we DID have good intentions! we even tried to change "beer" to "milk" every time but it just didn't quite come off. i blame it on the almighty hangover.

on my last day the kids drew me some pictures. and this one girl called alice, she drew a picture of gabs and i going swimming. it was pretty good, it even had speech bubbles. it was when i read those speech bubbles that i knew i was cut out for teaching english to foreign kiddies.

gabs was saying "hey leonie, let's going swimming" and i was saying "nah, let's go drinking". some would probably say that picture was accurate, true to life even. but elisabeth told me alice was just talking about cordial or juice or something. in which case, it's a big fat lie.

you can decide for yourself.


*technically, i was [and soon will be] staying in kierling but downtown k-burg city sounds much cooler, non?

**just in case you DON'T know and so there's no misunderstanding, i don't hate children ~ it's just a preposterous thing a stupid person once said and is now a running joke between me and, well...me i guess



oh yea, here's something i've been meaning to do for a while.

i met this girl last year, her name is emma. i met her through the festival of which we do not speak. we had a couple of pints at hell's kitchen which, as you'll know is a good way to charm me. not that she needed to.

time went by, that festival chewed me up and spat me out, and emma was there. a little while later, another, quite different festival came along. it was a little kinder to me, as you might know.

at this festival, i hung out with emma a bit. and her boyF, brad. i wasn't very communicable at the time and i think emma may have taken it personally. emma also mentioned her disappointment at not having been mentioned in this blog and followed this up by performing two very impressive feats.

ONE: tipping someone out of a hammock matrix-style by just looking at them.
TWO: enlisting the services of said boyF to destroy another hammock, possibly unintentionally, possibly by falling through it.

just one of the above is true.

you decide which.

today smells like ambiguity. oh, and i hope you like the new design. i decided to try and be reader-friendly, for a change.

xx

platters, whitegoods and closer

I'VE BEEN SPENDING a lotta time dining with [read: getting fed by] married people of late.

"married people?!" i hear you exclaim, rearing back from your computer in shock, mouth agape, eyeballs popping.


i know, I KNOW. i'm sorry i've mislead you. i don't often fraternise with such devoted vowing types but sometimes it seems almost unavoidable. and really, they DO seem to be multiplying, which only makes it harder to avoid them!

and then there's the ones that aren't technically married but soon will/may as well be. they're even harder to avoid ~ like plain clothes inspectors!

and i know YOU know some married people too, there's no use denying it. they're the ones we all know who have moved out to the burbs and in with hubby/wifey [zoe & jordan, kizza & kizza ~ you're temporarily safe from my sanctimonious drivel, fitzroy and flemington are definitely NOT "the burbs" but mei & gor, you're teetering...let this be a warning!]; the ones who don't go out much anymore; and the ones who, as a consequence, city cats like us just don't get [around] to see[ing] very often...and no, i DON'T mean your parents!

i mean...

those people who used to steal into your bedroom late at night in cahoots with your older brother, both wearing freddy kruger gloves they got at the show for the sole purpose of tormenting YOU;

[AND YES! you too can torment your pre-teen younger sister and her friend for only US $4...or just make the cocktail ~ who knew freddy kruger was a drink??!]

those people we first got drunk on subzeros [or e33s or stones green ginger wine or southern comfort] with and got the money from our parents on the pretext of buying "lollies" or "women's products";

and, those people we use to take high dosages of travel sickness tablets with in an effort to induce hallucinations ~ or, in my case just watch others take them coz i was too scared to do it myself - jeez, i was too scared to even kiss my boyfriends before year nine, we just held hands and even THAT was daring!

and, what have i learned from my recent experiences with married people??

they can COOK!!

they have whitegoods that WORK [but not washing machines that sing]

they have platters aplenty, one of which i gave them[!] which they either set up to look like they're using or...are ACTUALLY using, SHOCK HORROR!

yea, it SOUNDS okay, quite manageable in fact. but...all these positive experiences of married-ness came to a nasty head on tuesday when, post lubbly ICI blunch with sqodge & mumma sqodge, the three of us traipsed off to the cinema to see closer, the julia-roberts-can't-decide-who-she-wants-to-be-married-to-let-alone-who-she-wants-to-sleep-with film.

roberts' character, "don't stop loving me" anna, IS admittedly, more than a leetle starved for choice.

there's dan "what's so great about the truth?" ~ the endlessly irritating *writer* [his book failed, he writes obituaries, i DON'T think he can call himself a writer ESPECIALLY when he uses "disarming" as a euphemism FOR DISARMING] who you get the feeling you're supposed to like despite his self-absorption;

or larry ~ the revoltingly neanderthal emotionally-childish slimeball dermatologist who anna meets at the aquarium purely coz of dan's practical joke slash obsession with her and somehow ends up getting married to [this part of the story is, not surprisingly, glossed over coz HOW could an audience believe THAT?!]

and then, kinda hangin around in the background for key moments [read: bouncing up and down in slow-motion amongst the greyness of the rat race; sharing intimate moments with larry in the paradise room of a london strip club; playing "ha ha, made ya look" games when dan tries to break up with her], is the "beguiling" alice/jane/whatever her name is who's after some kind of tangible love, or maybe just a new plaything.

the coolest thing about the movie is that you too can web chat to complete strangers on the official website thereby completely trashing YOUR insignificant relationship just as they show you how in the film, awesome!

UPDATE: the aliases in this chat window are DEFINITELY not real people but are automated responses which repeat at such high frequency that, surely, they are not intended to be believed?!

meh...

tonight is soon to be smelling of nachos pizza

xx

a word of advice

DON'T BUY THOSE bonds bras with plastic catches or a stoopid plastic ring that joins the strap to the cup UNLESS you...

are me

are incredibly foolish (see first point)

think safety pins are sexy (and carry vast quantities at all times)

OR

really like stitching things up really soon after you buy them.

grrrrrr

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaa

from me(ish) dot org : five years of approximation



now go there, i'm busy with the mayfly project.

and i've lost my sense of smell.

xx

UPDATE ~ 2004 in 20 words
midsumma. french maids. criminal damage. napier hotel. havana palava. no sleep. festival over. huge relief. sleep. turn twenty-six. ghetto unfabulous.

text and hetero pub of the week

text of the week:
"where art the superstar unparallelable wonderful leonie?"

and my bruddah ade said, what's he gonna do withoutcha?
and I said, but what am I gonna do without HIM??
and no, this isn't a secret romance. this is le sqodgelator at 1.20am on sunday.

hetero pub of the week:
i went to the corner last night and i now proclaim it hetero pub of the week.

why?
well y'see i met a very nice boy who was there by accident...sort of...

i also walked past a table (they have high benches there) where a girl was climbing up from under it into the lap of her fella.

i also heard another spunky hat-wearing girl say she'd be dancing on the bar wearing a red fluffy n sparkly g-string before the night was out.

there was lots of testosterone in the room and pashing against the bar.

now THAT'S hetero, revoltingly so.

today smells like an early morning sans sweet dreams.

xx

happy rainbow - part two

they reckon the sun is always behind you when you look at a rainbow. but on this saturday morning on a property just out of beaufort, they were oh-so-very wrong.


the day started off cool, grey and [for me] with trepidation in my belly. but it started to get exciting when, from amongst the tarps and beanbags of kamp kraZy, we spied a rainbow completely encircling the sun. without google at my fingertips, i half-believed steven's assertion that they really had done a lot of preparation for this festival. but i was left with a lingering doubt...are billie jazz and his unpaid cohorts really that powerful?

i've since learned that what we saw was probably a coronae which, it has been firmly established, are formed due to diffraction by the minute particles of moisture and dust suspended in the atmosphere actually formed by the refraction of the sunlight in the ice crystals in some high altitude clouds ~ whatever the hell THAT means...

and yea, this kind of side-rambling haze was pretty much the order of the day ~ it took alice a good half an hour to brew our morning coffee. but, not long after the coronae excitement, the sun came out of hiding and the day continued happily in a muddle of marketeering, corffee in the shade, the world's most comfortable pants (do thai fishermen REALLY wear them though?), and journeying in to beaufort on an emergency cigarettes and beer mission.

by the time we got all this out the way, it was about six o'clock and alice was due at work on the front gate. and y'know, that's gotta be one of the things i love most about these kinda festivals, the numbers of people that work to pay for their entry. estimates from billie jazz, himself a volunteer coordinator for five years, have the numbers this year as high as 250! for a festival of about 5,000 people, i reckon this is a pretty nice figure.

and it's just great when you see the same crazed zippy* on rubbish duty who was hi-jinksing around the night before in frenzy of bliss & hysteria dressed up like a giant teddybear on stilts, a dancing robot or even a white witch...well, it just seems like the universe has finally worked itself out.


so, alice & birdeenumnum high-tailed it to the gate and i found myself wandering the site aimlessly, drinking beer and impatiently awaiting the opening ceremony, scheduled for 8.30pm. when the time finally rolled around, i made my way to the main stage along with most of the occupants of kamp kraZy and a few thousand other curious doofers jostling for a view.

the main stage was roped off so we couldn't get too close and create trouble, and the proceeding began without any introduction. a representative of the traditional owners of the land stood alone in the centre of the roped-off area. to his side, a large bowl of earth and a pile of burning green leaves emitting a cloud of smoke.

soon, a parade of dreaded, winged or otherwise dolled-up rainbowites starting coming through the roped-area, slowly, one at a time. each person crossed to the middle of the area where they first ran their fingers through the earth in the large bowl and then stood for a moment over the smoke of some burning leaves, fanning the fire, breathing in the smoke. as they left the area, the man conducting the ceremony reached out and touched them on each shoulder with a leafy branch.

after this, the indigenous man (or should i say, black fella? - i'm really not sure about correct terminology here) took to the stage for the welcome to country. this speech, now respectfully part of all public events in australia, is where the traditional indigenous owners of the region give their blessing for the event to take place on their land. he also spoke to us about respecting the land and the three indigenous tribes who are the traditional owners.

this man explained that he had begun with a spirit-cleansing ceremony to rid the area of bad spirits and then jokingly said that he could see there were still quite a few around! his speech was very well received by the crowd, the rainbow serpent representing not only this festival's namesake and philosophy but, more importantly, the rainbow serpent is the protector of the land and the source of all life according to the stories of the dreamtime (go here for more information).

this, was the good part of the opening ceremony.

the next part was an over-choreographed wank of a dance routine that i think made the participants feel pretty damn important and the rest of us pretty damn impatient. it started really slowly with about ten doof-dancing princesses and four white-flag-toting bare-chested men. luckily, it wasn't long before the music cranked up, the dance routine was over, the rope torn down and the masses excitedly grooving to the psytrance tunes of aaron smiles amongst the aforementioned giant teddy-bears on stilts, white witches, dancing robots and any number of imaginatively fascinating creations.

there is no way i can do the music, the lighting, the anything justice with words that are weeks old now and a distinct lack of experience of the trance/doof community. my personal experience was amazingly fantastically beersoakingly filled with dancing and random wanderings; the strangely delightful and surprising company of a multitude of both knowns and unknowns; the astonishing discovery of a dimly-lit gobblyn house adjacent to the main stage which was serving gobblyn's chai and mulled dragon's blood a beautiful sunrise which came, went and was watched from a wet grassy hill-top on an unavoidable pile of wildlife droppings; ear-plug and eye-mask wearing sleep managed only in four-hour stretches; baked-potatoes; a bit of janis on the big screen and last, but certainly not least, a non-existent shift driving a shuttle-bus...yup, that's right, my *job* evaporated!

i came home on monday in the darkness of a kombi with too many occupants; the driver a long-lost but (happily) now-found green-bearded pete, the others half-sleeping and me too excited and full of stories to tell. and what keeps coming back to me are the cries of one particularly impassioned rainbow dancer when the market stage was winding down, "noooooooo", he wailed, "not another twelve months!!"

others, methinks, will be needing the rest.


go here , here and here to see pictures.

*oh, and zippies, yea...t'was when i was marvelling at the combination of dreadlocks, fisherman's pants and hi-tech digital camera gear that alice informed me, these types are no longer considered "hippies" but are now known by the much more modern term, "zippies" ~ i don't know if this is a commonly used term or not but we spent the rest of the day making up other names, BMW driving doofers became "dippies", for example, whilst...oh, nevermind...


peeee essss - sorry this took so long, campers. hope it didn't detract from your enjoyment

xx

analysis paralysis?

i can't remember how it came up but i guess it doesn't really matter.

zoe said it wasn't a "condition" but this site seems to think differently...although, they probably DO make a shiteload of money out of making people believe they have mental health problems.

yea, so apparently analysis paralysis is an irrational fear which can stem from a variety of past experiences and have a crippling effect on someone's life ~ yea, like mine! nah, i'm only being half-serious, i don't analyse my decisions hardly at all, only past events so i'm pretty safe methinks (according to bec i've probably just got a mild case of post-action analysis atrophy).

but wait...

it also says that i may feel like i am in an annoying state of limbo! THAT'S TOTALLY ME!

so here's the crippling effects:

you tend to veer away from positions of more responsibility or authority, so you often fail to reach your career potential [oh yea, so THAT'S why i'm determined to stay in this dead-end telstra job].

you may be afraid of making an error in judgment when it comes to romantic relationships - so you don't commit. [this is SO not me, i even commit to NON relationships!]

you are afraid of truly parenting your children, because you don't want to repeat mistakes or make new ones [yep, lucky i *hate* kids, ain'it?].

you can't make large purchases like a car, furniture, house, etc because you are afraid of making the wrong selection [nope, it's just coz i haven't got any money]. you possibly research these items over and over, but still never make a decision [nope, just spend all day researching my potentially crippling mental health issues]. so your [sic] there are gaping holes in your life. Unpainted walls. Empty rooms. Etc. [nah, my room's really expletively cluttered actually and sqodge just painted the lounge on new year's. no holes there.]

you may be still searching for your mission in life and not because you just have no idea what you are good at, but because you are good at several things and are afraid to choose one thing to focus your career on. [yea, i'm SO expletively AWESOME at EVERYTHING, orright?!]

there are many other ways analysis paralysis can affect lives. these are just examples of some of the ways it can. if this sounds like you, your life may feel like your are in an annoying state of limbo. so you need to ask yourself how you arrived to this place? what do you believe is the underlying reason for your inability to trust yourself? now turn that voice off and turn your life around.

why do i feel like i'm watching daytime teevil??

AND...

...she thinks she can TALK to me. i minimised my response to one word and no eye contact.

sarah, if you're reading this, i AM working on it, i promise.

i had a request to mention someone in my blog ~ how expletively popular did this make me feel? i'm not sure.

the person in question was told, in no uncertain terms, that she would be required to DO something paragraph worthy but that said action need not necessitate any effort. it was a very hot day.

soon you will be e-delivered two paragraphs. you mission, should you choose to accept it, will be to determine the paragraph more closely resembling a truth.

in other breaking news, i may have a job at a montessori school in klosterneuburg!! she who dare think that supermum aint the greatest?! thou shalt be BANISHED for ever more...

google thoughtfully translates the school's homepage for me and tells me that:

the campus is in a place lain very central directly behind the station weidling.
here you can access the starting sketch

(it's the link that says "anfahrtsskizze") ~ i'm guessing the school's where it says GALEMO. ha! teaching english is gonna be FUN methinks.

oh, and the weather has plateau'd at 11.6 degrees, today smells like soy sauce and broken hammocks!! and i've gotta go do some WORK now coz apparently i'm not doing my best.

xx

SHE just arrived

my blood, she boil
my stomach, he churn
that post about having nothing to say was clearly a lie

xx

just finished stasiland

thank yooo sqodger for the eventual lend.
i am now reading this interview with anna funder, author of stasiland.
and i have to share this quote with you.

Well, here’s a bizarre fact that I didn’t put in the book. I’d long been fascinated by George Orwell’s work, but I resisted reading 1984 until I finished the manuscript for Stasiland. After that, I devoured it, and I couldn’t believe Orwell’s prescience. When I went into Mielke’s office, I saw it had the number 101, which in 1984 is the number of the torture chamber. 1984 was banned in the G.D.R. but of course, Mielke and Honecker had access to banned material. The guide told me that Mielke wanted this number so much that even though his office was on the 2nd floor, he had the entire first floor renamed the Mezzanine so that he could call his room 101.

in case you be as stasi-illiterate as i was...

mielke be the head of the stasi

the stasi be the secret service of East Germany or the GDR

now go read it ya lazy punk

xx

nothing to say

in case you didn't notice

xx

xx

xx

wet knees

no one blogs in the morning. and i wouldn't be either if i hadn't foolishly agreed to take my colleagues 8am shift today. but, as you should know, i'm not a morning person. could i be so brash as to deduce that generally speaking bloggers aren't morning people?


yesterday on my way to work, i melted. it was 11am and thirty degrees already. today, not only is it duffel coat weather (yay!), but it's only about 11 puddly degrees and falling. the warmest is has been today was at 12.20am, round about when zoe & i were walking home after much vino at the black cat. there's also "a cool and gusty south to southwesterly wind" today.

i never know what the hell those wind descriptions mean so, just in case you're as confused as me, cool and gusty south to southwesterly wind means: wear a coat, preferably one with a hood that covers your knees; do up the buttons/toggles/zip; wear a top that completely covers your belly and lower back at all times; consider making it a warm~ish top; don't expect to get to work with your hair intact unless you use brylcreem; take an umbrella.

good day.

xx