Bingeing on Girls

Bingeing on Girls

I have almost finished watching Season 2 of Girls*.

On my iPhone. In my bed. With my headphones in.

So no, not that kind of bingeing. And not on real-life girls (though I think my mother believes otherwise given I’ve recently cut my hair short**, moved back in with my parents, and headed off to Midsumma last month).

My iPhone screen is shattered from an accident last weekend, and whilst this makes viewing slightly obstructed, the few bits of glass that chip off into in my bed and onto my hands are a cheaper price to pay than getting the screen replaced***.

There’s something going on with my speaker jack too. Every so often the sound crackles. It cuts in, and it cuts out. I have to twist the plug, and then pull on the cord, contort it in circles, until finally the sound returns to normal.

And when the sound does come back, it blasts into my ears because as I’ve been playing this battle-of-the-wills game with the cord, I’ve also been turning up the volume thinking that somehow this would help, despite knowing full well that the real issue is with the connection.

But I know what’s going on in Season 2 of Girls. I know who the main characters are. And I know what they’re getting up to. And I even have a favourite.


*Lena, if you’re reading, I’d love to collaborate. You’re a total genius, and I love you. And I have some material that I think you’d find useful

**My hairdresser blames himself entirely for the shift my life has taken since turning thirty three, as it all started when he cut my 30cm curls off.

***Apple, if you’re reading this, a replacement phone would be oh-so amazing, as would a one-on-one intensive on how the hell to use iTunes. In 7 years I haven’t been able to work this program out. And, if you’re feeling generous, the logicboard on my MacBook is dead and needs replacing…xo




She’s rushing around the house, loading containers with food for grandkids, looking for where she moved the tea towels to in the kitchen clean up of yesterday, and calling out to him what time they need to be at Chadstone.

He’s asking when are they going to go get coffee? It’s their ritual. It’s their time. In between committments to others.

It’s manic. It’s a whirlwind he can’t calm.

He says he just doesn’t matter anymore. He picks up his guitar and plays quitely. It’s out of tune, but he doesn’t notice. Or he doesn’t care.

I observe, filling out the crossword in yesterday’s newspaper, scribbling on the comics in between thinking and waiting for the revelation of the right word.

I’m like him. I never realised how much so until these last three months. He scribbles too. He draws and doodles whenever there’s pen and paper lying around.

She’s ready to leave.

The garage door closes. I exhale; silence. Except for the hum of the dishwasher.

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 2: You know you swear too much when you can’t think of another word for ar*ehole

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 2: You know you swear too much when you can’t think of another word for ar*ehole

Mum: You’ve read The Picture of Dorian Gray haven’t you?

Me: Yeah, I read it in school.

Mum: What was it about?

Me: It was about this guy who had a portrait of himself which got uglier as he turned into more of an ar…

The painting changed to reflect his every vice, and he kept it hidden out of shame.

Mum: Ah yes, that’s sounds familiar. I think I’ve seen it.

Me: Yeah it got made into a movie.

Dad: Well I remember him from The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I hated what they did to the Phantom in that movie. Hated it!

My signature vegan Bolognese

My signature vegan Bolognese

prep time: 15 minutes / cooking time: 1 hour / serves: 6


  • 1 onion, diced
  • 2 carrots, grated
  • 500g mushrooms, chopped
  • 1 can lentils, drained
  • ½ cup sundried tomatoes in oil, roughly chopped
  • 1 can chopped tomatoes
  • ½ cup tomato paste
  • Oregano and parsley, or Italian herbs of your choice
  • Shiraz, half a cup
  • Bonsoy, half a cup
  • Brown sugar, one heaped teaspoon
  • 500g pasta of your choice
  • Fried breadcrumbs



  1. Heat the oil from the sundried tomatoes in a large saucepan
  2. Add the onion and sauté for 6-7 minutes
  3. Add carrot, mushrooms and lentils, combine gently, then simmer for 10 minutes, or until the liquid from the mushrooms has mostly evaporated.
  4. Add sundried tomatoes, canned tomatoes, tomato paste and herbs. Stir until combined.
  5. Once the sauce is almost boiling, add the Bonsoy and the Shiraz. Bring to the boil, then turn to low, cover with a splatter guard, and let gently simmer for 20 minutes.
  6. Bring a saucepan of water to the boil and cook pasta as per packet instructions.
  7. When the sauce has reached a thick, rich consistency stir in the brown sugar and remove from heat.
  8. Serve sauce with cooked pasta, top with fried breadcrumbs.

‘You did not call the police!’

‘You did not call the police!’

6:35am I wake up.

9:30am Mum and dad leave the house to go about their morning activities.

9:32am I emerge from my room to go about my morning activities, starting with opening the doors to the veranda to let the warm sunny day in, making sure of course, to leave the fly screen doors closed.

My morning activities included completing two loads of washing, cleaning my room, chatting with one of my sisters on the phone about my weekend plans, and making a batch of my signature vegan Bolognese sauce (containing my secret ingredient, Shiraz – recipe to follow in a later post).

Mid-morning I got hungry and found two gourmet chocolates in the fridge. I ate one, bit into the second but it was full of that weird liqueur filling, so I put it back in the cellophane bag and returned it to the fridge.

12:30pm Domestic activities complete, I grab dad’s car keys and head to the pool for my weekend swim.

Dad’s great, on numerous occasions he’s told me I can borrow his car whenever I need it.

1:30pm Return to the car and open the glovebox to retrieve my phone. I’m confronted with 19 missed calls, 6 Voicemail messages, a few Messenger messages and a Messenger voice calls. Interesting. I open the call log. Mum, mum, mum, mum, mum, dad, dad, mum etc. Hm.

I call mum back:

Me: Hi mum, what’s going on?

Mum (panicked): Where have you been?!

Me: I’ve been at the pool.

Mum (still panicked): Well you could have left a note!! Your father* and I have been worried sick about you, we thought you’d been abducted!!

Me (bemused): Abducted?! What they heck made you think I’d been abducted?!

Mum (still panicked and now annoyed at my bemusement as well): Well we got home from the shops and the doors were wide open, there was half a bottle of wine on the bench**, a chocolate missing from the fridge, and half a one left in there, and your father’s car was missing!

Me (still bemused, stifling laugher): The flyscreen doors were shut, I opened the bottle of Shiraz to put some in my Bolognese sauce, I didn’t like the liqueur in the chocolate, and dad said I could borrow his car whenever I wanted…

Mum (increased annoyance at my bemusement): We called the police.

Me (bemusement replaced by shock): You did not. You did not call the police!

Mum: We also called the Fountain Gate Shopping Centre and got security to put an announcement over the PA for you!

Me (now laughing openly): This is not happening.

Mum: Your sister said you told her you were going there this afternoon, so we rang them up.

Me: This is seriously not happening.

Mum: Well I’m glad you’re finding this so funny.

Me: I’ll be home soon. Hangs up.


Yes, all this actually happened.


*When mum asked dad if all these actions sounded like something I would do, he apparently shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘yeah, that sounds like something she’d do’.

**there was half a cup, max, missing from the bottle of Shiraz, which consequently, dad and I finished off on Sunday night. It was a good drop.

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 1: The livestock industry

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 1: The livestock industry

Dad (spooning mushroom salad onto his plate): Some good protein here.

Me (enthusiastically): Yep, and vitamin B12 and iron!

Dad: Yeah but gimme a steak any day, so much better.

Me: Not so sure the cow would agree with that.

Mum: Well, cows have a pretty boring existence, just standing around all day. You may as well eat them.

Me (eyes literally popping out of my head): They only have that ‘boring existence’ because we breed them into it so you can eat them!!!

Mum (more shocked at my outburst than the content of my comment): Well!!

When I am in nature

When I am in nature

When I am in nature I feel God.

I feel everything and nothing, all at once.

My purpose is clear;

you are my Alpha and my Omega.

You are my fulfilment and my whole,

everything I am, and can be, is made possible because of you,


This living, breathing, organism that heaves and sighs,

is turbulent and calm.

You feed me. You are me. You are God.