zombieland.

My teacher once asked us if we thought that films dictated our dreams or if our dreams dictated films. I always thought that our dreams were the creative inspiration for films and art a like. That was until recently. I have this annoying habit of needing a film to fall asleep to a film and lately they've been based on serial killers or the living dead. Being chased by zombies all night is exhausting to say the least, disturbing mainly. The dude at work who is obsessed with zombies told me that, and I quote, "It essentially means that you are feeling overwhelmed by things out of your control and that you are under a lot of stress." And he knows his zombie shit.

Then yesterday afternoon I had a nap to the teen cult classic (in my books anyway), Urban Legends. My entire dreams were based around the film and the only thing I was worried about is that I missed out on Tara Reid dying. I had this same problem with The OC, although I didn't mind being a part of the Cohen family for a good 7 hours in dream land.

So it's either give up scary films before bed or deal with my stress and problems. I think I'll keep running from the zombies for now, perhaps I'll get lucky and they'll turn me into one. That, or I kill Tara Reid myself.

he tasted like peach ice tea,

he dreamt of elephants in mexico,

he lives in a house by the sea,

he is a hungry, hungry hippo.

x

Diane Arbus.

winter warmer

grey haze

quelqu'un m'a dit

Grandma.

Yesterday a close friend told me that she took to my blog to find out what I've been up to as we have been quite mia from each other's lives lately. I shook my head and said that I was sorry, the blog will tell you nothing except recently I had a panic attack and visited the Botanical Gardens with family. BORING. Well, not for me at least. I've been quite content laying low. My biggest thrill of an evening is watching Masterchef and gaining length in my baby blanket that I'm knitting. I'd much prefer to drink tea than drown myself in pots of carlton beer and I look forward to wiping the make up off rather than applying it. Not to say I don't enjoy drinking wine with my girls and having fun but this time last year I was waist deep in a puddle of chaos and blind drunk to whom my friends and enemies were. Not anymore. With age comes wisdom, right? I actually look forward to the days when I'm an old grandma perched up on my little armchair (I'll probably shrink by then so my feet will dangle over the edge) and I'll be happily knitting for the grandkids and making tea for me and my husband who has probably lost his teeth by then so can't bite through the caramel slice I've baked. We'll argue over the remote control but not when Masterchef comes on. Dear God, that show better still be on when I'm old! And excuse me, for now I prefer the nanna life.