absence.

So, by the look of things, I haven’t updated since Honey’s peanut incident, and probably for a good reason. Things have been fairly stagnant and routine at the Casa Del Punk as of late, with the exception of the baby-daddy quitting his nicotine vice (and doing a damn good job) the young one growing at a daily basis, and the chore that is house hunting. That’s right, the mama and the sprog are moving out on their own, and its proving harder than I first envisioned. I’m not hugely picky about houses if I can imagine my stuff in it. I don’t care about carpet stains and chunks out of the wall — hell, the more character the better. However it is somewhat depressing when you show up for an old house that you’re sure nobody will want (because of insulation errors, holes in walls, broken doors, unsafe light fittings, outdoor toilets) and 150 people apply for it. The rental market is at a painful crawl in M-town, and if you’re an alternative single mama punk rock kid, they don’t seem to welcome you in with open arms. I’ve probably made a harder choice in deciding to search exclusively in the inner city bracket (Brunswick, Carlton, Richmond, St Kilda for you Melbournians) but I feel like I’ve done Suburbia to death, and there’s not a hell of a lot left here for me besides K-mart and Bea’s playgroup (who I shall miss dearly, but endeavour to visit as often as permitted.) I don’t particularly fit in here, and there’s only so long that being stared at because of one’s hair or attire is a novelty. So, to combat the discrimination that comes with renting a property (and also because my I.D photo is 5 years old and pictures me with a particularly threatening mohawk-makeup combination) I’ve decided as a leg-up strategy to put my mother’s name on the lease with me, as she has a fantastic rental record and she makes me look a hell of a lot more desirable a candidate if they think a 52 year old woman is going to be residing there with us. Because, of course, without her we’d have band rehearsals and rockin’ keg parties ’til 4 A.M …

Advertisements