If I may be frank for a moment, I really don't give a shit about the global economy.

I'm sure if I had debts or assets I would, but I have neither, so this global credit crisis really isn't affecting me. And, just as petrol prices do not affect me, I am sick of hearing about it on the news. There is something telling about the fact that poo in icecream is getting more attention right now.*

I also have qualifications in a fairly stable area (and historically, rich industrialised countries love pumping lots of money into science when things start to look shaky) so right now, my employment future is looking no more bleak than usual.

What does affect me though, is the plummeting Australian dollar and its relationship with a vintage Gucci wallet and matching bag that I have been eyeing off for weeks on Etsy. Shallow maybe, but DAMN.

* And please, on what planet, really, does poo look like chocolate icecream? Really?

There are not enough desks in the UNSW library, not even close. Every week it seems like more disappear to make room for a giant empty space or another staff meeting room. I'm not sure why the library staff have so many meetings, or so many meeting rooms, but I digress.

Lately, in order to get a desk you need to either be incredibly lucky with especially good timing, or you need to sleep there overnight by somehow evading the security guards. Obviously there is a hierarchy of desk as well, so the time you arrive at the library (assuming you did get kicked out by a security guard the night before) will dictate how far up the library tower you need to go, how many people you will have to share with, and what kind of chair, if any, you should expect.

If you do happen to be lucky enough to get a desk, there are certain rules you must follow in order to retain the right to stay there. These are the rules of bagsies:

1. No sleeping. You can sleep at home, you don't need to do it slumped over a desk in the library.

2. Move to the window. This is similar to when you are on the bus and it is very crowded: you take the window seat, not the aisle, it's just common sense.

3. No migratory notes/backpacks/personal belongings. When it is busy, you only get to take up one desk. One desk, the one next to the window. That is all.

4. No long lunches. It is fine to take 20 minutes to stumble to Barker Street MacDonalds and caffeineate. It is not fine to go to Macquarie Uni, have lunch with your girlfriend, then come back expecting to take back the same desk. Do not call your friends and talk about lunch either. They're only pretending to care.

5. One book does not a bagsie make. This is the fundamental rule. One library book left on a desk does not reserve it as yours.

In order to rightfully stake your claim, the minimum you must leave behind upon taking a break is your notebook, some scrunched-up paper, lecture notes, a textbook, some pens, your water bottle, an empty coffee cup, half a packet of M&Ms, and some orange peelings.

Unless you do this, anyone, ANYONE, can come and take you desk while you are at Macquarie Uni and you have absolutely no right to complain upon your return.

These are the rules. A library desk is a privilege people, not a right.

Smultron are tiny wild strawberries that taste kind of like what I imagine strawberry flavoured lollies are supposed to taste like. They're so good that you can't quite believe they're not artificial.

One day last year, I think it was in late June, it had been raining on and off for about a week, but was just starting to warm up. I'd been sitting inside for far too long, so I decided to go for a wander in the odd patch of forest next to Building 5.

The air had that moist, after-rain feeling, and I started poking around in the undergrowth. Hundreds of little tiny strawberries awaited me, and I mean, they really are tiny. About the size of a raisin, up to smaller than a grape. And so very delicious.


Berry hunting is so much fun. Especially when the berries are so little, and you really have to look into lots of nooks and crannies, you sort of feel like a bear preparing for the winter. It's like a treasure hunt where everyone wins!

At first I was going to say I love these old bottles, the look of the tops and the general old-fashioned coolness. But then I changed my mind because they're so manky and gunked up with old dye. They make a nice picture though.

A year ago today I wasn't doing very much. I know because I checked my diary.

On the first of November however, I went to a Swedish careers fair at MIC, or maybe it was Ångstrom labs (irrelevant anyway), with Rach. The note in my diary says:

Careers fair w Rachel.
Free pens!
Free lollies!
REJOICE!

That about sums it up really.

It was quite reassuring to see that students share a universal mentality towards freebies, and they had much better toys.

Will we ever forget the motion-sensitive singing silver ball Rach won? No, I don't think we will. Not sure if that's a good thing actually.

Or the snap-band fight we had afterward? Those things are so much fun, even if the Swedes did look very bemused.

Or the conversation I had with a guy on one stall that went like this:

Ellie: What do you guys do? Guy: We're a computer engineering firm. We do solutions-based security for blah blah gefrueshterwitz. Fultonkerblah blah blah cha cha. Is that related to your field? Ellie: Not really... *awkward pause*... can I have a lollipop and one of those squeezy things anyway?... Guy: (audibly sighing) Yes.

Or the stall that I accidentally (yet, luckily, covertly) knocked over twice. Bahah.

Anyway.. It was a blue-sky day when the days were getting shorter.

The leaves were just beginning to fall, but it wasn't too cold. I was riding home by myself afterward, and I remember thinking, "this is pretty amazing".


I also remember thinking, "God, I love my blue beanie," but sadly that was a short-lived love affair.

RIP blue beanie. Not Forgotten.

It feels like being inside the Marimekko flagship store in Helsinki.



SO many fabrics, I wanted them all. I still do.


Marimekko by e_p

I love that you can go in and buy ready made things, fabric by the metre, or special orders with the fabric of your choice. It was like a cave of beautiful things, three levels and so nice and shiny.

Can you believe that Unikko is more than 40 years old? Festivo is even older, and yet, they remain modern and fresh.

Ellie loves. Ellie Wants. Actually, Ellie has, a big piece of Unikko, purchased from above Marimekki flagship store; I just can't decide what to do with it.

Ideas?

Yesterday was a momentous day: I had my last exam, like, evah. And I went in completely unprepared, left early, and don't care because I've already done enough work in that course to get a good pass mark without the exam. I still however, have four essays to write before my freedom, one of which is insanely hugely massive, but right this minute I'm choosing not to think about them.

Instead, I've become obsessed with Polyvore, as evidenced by all the little collages appearing in my posts. It's so much fun to play with, and you can while away hours, literally hours.

For example:

Some things I'd buy if
a) I still lived in Sweden (the shirt is from Monki),
b) could afford those damn Marc Jacobs shoes.

Spring Outfit by e_p

There are few truly remarkable things about me, but if I were to drop dead tomorrow I hope that someone will remember how much I love IKEA.

Actually, that sounded a lot better in my head; hopefully I don't drop dead tomorrow, that would be unfortunate. And hopefully if I were to drop dead tomorrow someone would be able to dredge up something a little more interesting for my eulogy.


My IKEA wishlist by e_p

I feel a peculiar gravitation to IKEA, I've been to 6 in three different countries. I'm not proud to admit that, it sounds a bit nerdly. The first question I learned in Swedish was, "ursäkta, jag ha en fråga til deg... hur många IKEA fins de i Sverige?" There are 16 IKEAs in Sweden. Just in case you were wondering.

We can only imagine how many allan-keys there are.

I remember being really surprised when my Swedish friends told me last year that buying IKEA furniture was not really something to be excited about. It's the cheap nasty stuff you buy when you can't really afford the real Scandinavian designer gear (see previous post re. The Egg Chair..). My feelings are that IKEA is wonderful as long as you are able to maintain your personal sense of style, and incorporate it, rather than buy the entire room from the catalogue.

It wasn't until I got to Sweden that I understood that people in Scandinavia go there to stock up on random household items, like napkins, candles and cheap meatballs, not pseudo-designer furniture that, to this day, is missing a screw or doesn't quite fit together properly. And it was in the Swedish winter that I realised it really is possible to use up an entire 100 pack of those tea-light candles..

While I like all the things in the above collage, I only own 1...can you guess which?

I have had enough of mice, don't know how much longer I can stand it/them. If I have to return to retail there is only one place I'd like to end up.

Actually I lie, I'd totally work at T2, but Kikki-K would be my dream. Although I have heard that the staff discount at Witchery is 70%... no, Kikki-K wins out no matter what. It's so wonderful, so lovely, so tactile; the new range is called Kompis (that's Swedish for friend), and it has an elephant that says "Hej."

Do you hear me? The elephant is saying hello!

I must own him. Or work there. Either would do.

You see, it's not enough that northern Europe is full of the world's tallest, most attractive, slender people. It somehow also got the best design ethic. I am in love with Scandinavian design so very much. If I ever get married, my wedding ring will be one of the Georg Jensen Fusion rings, I am determined.


Scandinavian Designs by e_p

Whilst in Copenhagen last year, JM and I spent a little while poking through Illums Bolighus; think David Jones but a whole lot more upmarket, full of amazing Scandinavian design objects etc. Upmarket as in, it sold cushions made out of baby seal (god strike me down, they felt amazing), and genuine Arne Jacobsen furniture.

JM was waiting for me while I went to the bathroom and decided to sit on one of the display chairs while admiring her surroundings; upon my return we were discussing what our next move would be (it was a visit to the Georg Jensen museum by the way, amazing) when a salesperson approached us and asked if we needed any help in that way that suggests you have lingered too long and now is the time to move on.

Genuine Arne Jacobsen furniture.. as in, she was sitting on Ægget- the Egg Chair, prices from DKK 64,379. ie. the cheapest version costs approx $18000AUD.

There are some life-skills that are only useful at very particular moments in time. Mine is wasting the time of others, Angie's is making me coffee (and the creative use of obscenity).
I'm a bit obsessed with the coffee cart at uni, I think my daily patronage alone pays for one of their wages. So they oblige me when I ask for patterns on top of my latte. While Angie's leaf here is quite nice, and definitely better than coffee-cart-Tim's attempt at a New Zealand Silver Fern, I do believe that coffee-cart-Travis' attempt at the Harbour Bridge is still in the lead. Coffee-cart-Tim's attempt at a pigeon (not a seagull) was a dismal failure and we shall not speak of it again.
Angie's failure to come out in the lead for the leaf pattern left her unimpressed. It had been a long day for both of us.

Soviet History of Biology.

It's more interesting than it sounds, but by Thursday last week I was a bit over it. I've decided from now on that the easiest thing to do whenever I am asked for an opinion/question is to reply, "I blame the fascists." It's such a multipurpose statement.


The week before, SRC elections were on at uni. It reminded me of old times...I remember this banner well. If you look hard you can see where they had to pull off the letters that said "YOUR GUILD." Mike designed that logo when we still had a Guild.
I'm glad I don't do student politics anymore, too many of those red t-shirts are in the back of my wardrobe. Although it was fun this time around to time-waste by asking campaigners from the opposite ticket lots of detailed questions and pretend that I was seriously considering who to vote for.

Socialist Alliance were running a ticket without a presidential candidate. How appropriate. I did automatically assume that it was because they were socialists and so were ideologically opposed to the idea of a president, but it turns out they just didn't have enough candidates to run.

I blame the fascists.

The great thing about Krispy Kreme in Mascot is that it's open 24 hours, and that it has drive through. Not that I go there often or anything.

The even greater thing is that if you go inside you can watch the donuts being made, and seeing them floating in a vat of boiling hot oil, before going through a curtain of glaze is enough to remind you that they should only be enjoyed in moderation. Not that I go there often or anything...

The donuts get flipped automatically as they move through the oil. It's by far the most exciting part of the process.

Sometimes they don't flip or they get mushed on top of each other coming out of the donut-dough rising machine. A man with tongs comes and rescues the mutants. His name is Romeo.

Next they pass through the curtain of glaze before continuing on their merry journey to distribution trays or my belly.

Erinn and I went on a little photo expedition this afternoon to take some glamour-type headshots for a website profile...


I took some other photos as these storm clouds rolled in over Coogee Bay. The sea was incredibly flat and calm, enough that it was making me uncomfortable. It felt ominous, like something was about to happen. Ridiculous of course, but mysterious nonetheless.





Presumably they're not talking about the hairy-legged lesbians :)

"It's only money." That's what my mum said when I asked her if I should buy these shoes from Witchery. So I bought them.


And then I bought this shirt from Country Road. Obviously this is not the whole shirt, merely a detail.. It's cream with a large panel of this red lace-ish stuffs. I had been lusting after it ever since I saw it in the window at QVB, and then I found it on sale on Saturday. Serendipity.



I think I've been on a bit of a red theme generally lately; I bought this ring a couple of weeks ago. I've been meaning to take a photo of it, but I've been preoccupied with Russian history. It's overly dramatic, and I love it (the ring, not the history).

I didn't think you could kill succulents, but apparently you can. Well, apparently I can, anyway. But luckily I knew that I'd manage to start murdering these eventually and had the forethought to take some photos before it happened.






For the record, none of the ones in these particular photos have met their maker just yet, only one of their neighbours. I'm doing quite well so far.

The pot plant on the front steps was involved in quite a drama on Saturday, which I shall get to soon (I've started writing about it, but it's a complicated story). As a teaser, the post shall be called, "The Curious Incident of the Rat in the Parsley Patch," so see if you can fill in a few of the blanks yourself.

I am in love with Etsy, and I only realised recently that you could buy supplies for lovely craftily making things. I found these loose beads the other day, and I had a grand vision for what I would do with them...Aside, obviously, from lining them up and taking photos so I could admire how twee they are.


This necklace didn't turn out quite as grand as my vision, but I like it anyway, and a few people commented about how cute it was when I wore it on Wednesday.


The earrings aren't for me, but it's a secret for whom they are actually intended...