What I'm listening to: Oh,Ellie Goulding everything - but her acoustic versions are particularly great. I appreciate the version of Starry Eyed in the vid above... she goes off.
What I'm watching: When I got home tonight, Kate tossed the seventh season of NCIS in my general direction saying 'Here, I've finished it. Now you can watch the new hot McGee on your own time!' Not sure what that means, but I've smashed four episodes already (ok, he lost a little bit of weight and got a bit more manly - look out Donozo!).
What I'm eating: Soup. Lots of it, with buttered bread. Too much, but hey, it's winter. And I had a hot ham and cheese croissant for breakfast and it was bril.
What I'm reading: Erin gave me Pride and Prejudice for my birthday - the puffin book I can stuff in my bag and read on the train! Can't wait to get stuck right into it.
Where I'm going: Ok, this is ridiculous. Today I did 8 hours of paid training, for my job, at head office in St Kilda. We learnt just about everything you need to know about a million countries - UK + Europe (and surrounds), France and Italy, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, China, the USA and everywhere. What I want to know now is: how the fuck am I going to fit this into four weeks of annual leave a year? I want to go everywhere! Best thing about my job? Half-priced to free tours with our wholesalers - mm mmm!
What I'm wearing: Pyjamas, again. Awesome!
What I'm wanting: To go to bed right and wake up tomorrow feeling like I've slept for a week. I love that feeling.
In a Queensland child's life, the State of Origin stands out, whether or not their family is into football, or even owns a tv. I can remember it back for years.
Wednesday the 6th of July was a big one for Queenslanders and ex-pats alike. The third Origin simply rolled up into the climax of the season - Lockyer's last origin, and a true decider at that. We won and I was proud and happy... in a red wine haze of football and Skypes with Queensland work buddies. Nothing like a good game of NRL to bring a state together.
On Thursday, after work, it was Erin time again. We met on Chapel and made our way to the tacky IGA just down from my office. A bottle of red wine and a satay chicken dish later, we were deep in conversations about family trees, christmas and relationships. Deep. We sat for hours - a leisurely dinner - and afterwards made our way to San Churros for melted milk chocolate goodness. It was Erin's introduction and first time and her eyes were opened. Needless to say, San Churros is not a place you should frequent more than once a month. It's just really hard not too.
After work on Friday I found myself on the Frankston Express, headed swiftly for the Penince. This time I had to catch the bus from the station because the boys had already started drinking. Fortunately for me, the bus stop isn't too far from Brent's street, and I was able to make my way there without becoming frozen like a slushy. A couple of rounds of beer pong later, we were off to Main Street for a loose night - Mornington style. Brent was sad because he couldn't find his blue beanie anywhere, and I was amused because Brent's hair without a beanie can look silly.
God's Kitchen came first... we sat around and got boozed in a big old place that used to be a church. I bought Brent way too many goodbye beers. I don't know what I was thinking. I remember clicking my heels with Skinner as we skipped down the street towards Noodlebox. I vaguely remember inhaling a six inch Subway. Karl and Sam were there for a bit, and we danced a lot. I got into a domestic with a taxi rank officer who made me cry, Brent retrieved me delicately from the smallest, most seedy alley in Mornington and brushed away my tears (whilst assuring me that the taxi man thought he had false power and was the biggest bully on the planet), and then we went home and had hot milo and went to bed.
The next morning Brent, Skinner and myself had Big Breakfasts with sides of hollandaise and massive chocolate milkshakes, at Kate Mac's work. It was great. We found Brent's beanie in the dryer, then he and I road-tripped back into the city whilst nursing Gatorades and headaches, and singing. I will miss those trips.
You might think here: Hmm... Bronni's already had a pretty big weekend. It's Saturday afternoon and she's already been drunk almost every night of this week, she's played beer pong, she's smoked too much and she's probably going to have a shower, hop into bed, catch up on her blog and take it easy - because she has to work on Sunday.
Well you'd be incorrect.
I did have a shower, but it was only a five minute one - because we'd dillydallied much too long and I was super late. I had to throw on some clothes, quickly toss everything I needed for the next 24 hours into a bag and tear down the hill in a mad rush to catch the train. I was off to Miss Winter's house, to get ready for the Ball!
The Flight Centre ball was like nothing I've ever been to. It was very lavish; there was a red carpet and rows upon rows of waiters with trays of cocktails waiting on us in the foyer. There were ice queens on stilts, big blow-up candy cane people and haggard old dressed-up men wandering about, leering and making jokes. It was a christmas theme, and the little group from Student Flights in Prahran gazed at each other with gleaming eyes, grabbed two cocktails each, and proceded to become one of the very loosest bunch of colleagues at that ball...
Oh yes, that's us. All I need to reveal from that night is that: we danced, we drank, and Lizzie tipped a jug of milk all over Emma in her delicious black velvet dress. And we got a lift home in the Topdeck car.
When we got home to Emma's, we gobbled down some of her amazing potato and leek soup with grain bread and a big cup of water. I slept on the couch under the bear rug and with a silk mask. On Sunday, I woke up freakishly healthy (again), and off I skipped to work. That night I finally managed to get hold of my favourite cousin in Brisbane, Harvey, and we talked for hours and everything was very chill.
Monday 12 was the last opportunity I had to spend with my darling friend Ju, before she retreated back to New Zealand for a month to visit family. This time was not wasted. Well actually, we were very wasted, but that's a rather alternative concept... anyway, we found ourselves, quite late, at O'briens' Irish Pub on Southbank (as we quite often do, should we not frequent Ponyfish Island). We were five pints in, no dinner down, singing wildly to the boisterous Irish duo on stage and calling each other every Irish name we could think of. We settled on Bronni O'brien and Julia O'reilly. I got halfway to work the next morning before I realised I had potato and gravy from KFC all down the back of my coat and bag. Don't know how we managed that.
On Tuesday Shaggy, Brent and I assembled at the boys house after work for a lesson in the art of baking. The results spoke for themselves. Well, we didn't really speak that much, but those brownies were definitely good.
We ate pizza, watched Geordie Shore, trekked to Sevs Elevs, ate more brownie and chilled on the couch. For hours.
On Wednesday the 14th of July I went to the gym for the very first time since moving to Melbourne. I also made three bookings that day! Plenty of firsts, which is good. On Thursday I vegged at home, did the washing and started preparing for the weekend... again.
I had Friday off... which was happy and sad. It was the last official Brent and Bronni day we had together before he needed to leave for Amsterdam. It was hilarious.
We drove around like maniacs trying to navigate to the nearest Vic Roads so I could change my licence over to a Victorian one... only to find it packed and to totally give up and storm out right away. Then we went to Chadstone so Brent could buy Jess's 21st present and lots of other unnecessary things. After that we went home, finished the brownie, watched Cool Runnings (again), ate Thai, talked like Indians and Darren Lockyer for about an hour and a half and spent about $25 at Sevs Elevs, as part of the wildest spree yet (Chocky Milk)! Bakedous Maximous.
I slept really well that night, and the best part was that I didn't have to start work til 10 on Saturday morning. Which was lucky, because that sleep set me up for the weekend. After work on Saturday I hailed a cab and met Brent at my house, where I quickly got ready for Jess's and he smashed some beers. I then drove us all to the Tennisons, and on to the birthday venue. All you need to know about the venue is that it had an open bar. Thats all I know! The rest of that night is a blur of cousins, wine and drunk aunties and uncles on the dance floor. And facebook hacking and drunken dirty phone calls to workmates and friends. You get the picture.
Happy birthday Jess! Love from, Us xx (your special cousins)
I left when they turned the lights on - I don't remember it, I just know I was out of there. I was on the street and I got in a cab and I somehow managed to get home. Unfortunately in that space of time I also managed to vomit on myself and out the door of the cab, take the cabbie's handkerchief, use it and ungratefully toss it out the window. Needless to say, all those times I've woken up freakishly healthily after the largest of nights? They descended upon me at once, like a sack of bricks, and I did not have my last yak until 4 on Sunday afternoon. Class.
Just when I thought The Kills couldn't get any cooler, they take some time out to re-record almost every single one of their songs - acoustically. Alison Mosshart, may we marry?
Chapel Street Tattoo's artist and co-owner, Jane Laver - for Frankie Magazine. Great, great article, but want to know whats cooler about this whole scenario, apart from the fact that she's super amazing and a great artist? I know this personally, because she came and bought a travel gift card from me, at Student Flights! She helped me learn a bit of my job and was very nice and patient. Thanks, Laver! (See her interview with The Enthusiast here)
Drunk facebooking for State of Origin (Queensland fever). Ahh, my drunk, crazy friends from home. Some of you, I have to say I really dislike, but other's I miss a lot, and I spent a lot of the third game thinking of you: Melbell and Loui, Smithee, Kylie and Brent and Lexis, Laws and Nige, Amy J, Jeffa, Griffo, Matty and Amy, Barb, 'Senya and Kaylene... you realise who your true friends are once you've moved interstate and they still make the effort. Thanks so much for keeping contact - some don't. I miss you guys, and hopefully we can catch up for loose times soon!
Snippets from my July (which is, so far, the opposite of dry!).
I need an IPAD. I seriously need to be able to blog on the go, because I am like a freight train with no brakes - out of control and not slowing down! (Don't worry mum, I'm not literally out of control xx)
My first week as a fully fledged, novice travel consultant at Student Flights on Chapel was a good one. Finally, training was over and I could fully get into the spirit of things - with my own desk and business cards. How proud. You proud, mum? Yes you are. Monday and Tuesday went well, I may have cried a little bit whilst still learning to juggle everything in my head, but I was well on the way to convincing myself that I was in love with the job.
On Wednesday (23rd Jun) I made my first big booking on my own, and after work I headed to the boys', where the darling lads had thai and specially purchased girly beers (cider) waiting for me. I was so hyperactive - the whole day had been ridiculously exciting and now we were about to hit the city for Brent and the others Uni party (finished uni for the semester drinks). It was a big night, but we were all home in bed by 2, which would have been fine - however I had my first bout of serious 'Flightmares'. I literally couldn't shut my eyes all night without imagining myself quoting flights and travel insurance to disapproving clients who wanted better. It was too much, and I didn't get a wink of sleep the whole night - resulting in me going home early from work the next day because I simply couldn't hack it. I went home and slept from 5:30pm to 6:30 the next morning. Only then did I return to normal Bronni.
On Friday (24th Jun) night I met up with my cousin, Erin, for what we like to call our weekly dinner. We went for pizza and pasta, as both of us were feeling a bit off. Dinner was lovely, and afterwards we cheered ourselves up with some ciders and a session of Big Buck Hunter - shared with a guy, Henry, who was waiting for his friends. He was such a good little lad, and kept up with us remarkably well, seeing as he'd never played before. Afterwards, he bought me a cider, then Erin and I had to go home. Erin believes he would've followed me to the end of the earth if asked, but I think he was just lovely.
On Saturday (25th Jun) I slept in and woke up feeling fabulous - ready for F-U-N! Called Stevee and we decided on a plan of action. I was to meet him at Camberwell at four, and he would come over for drinks in our little courtyard. I was at Camberwell when he picked me up in his car, saying he could still drink and that he'd come over the next day to pick it up. All good. That's when shit got real.
We went to First Choice on the way home... and somehow managed to leave with a bottle of Captain Morgans finest. Stevee and I haven't had rum together before, and it didn't really occur to us that it was a surprisingly big mistake to drink the whole bottle between two people - in as many hours. In fact we didn't even realise anything was wrong until we went to call him a cab home at 8pm, and I couldn't see my phone, and he couldn't talk. Actually, neither of us could talk, only look at each other and giggle nervously. I think we managed to call a cab, however we then thought it would be a fabulous idea to go to the corner for KFC. I got a Sweet Chilli Twister (my current vice), and could only manage one or two bites before putting it back in it's wrapper for later. Stevee scoffed his dinner and we struggle back to my house, which is basically one door down haha. Tried to call another cab as they said we'd missed the first one, then huddled in the garden to wait, holding onto trees so we didn't topple over ourselves. We still couldn't really talk.
Stevee's cab finally arrived, and he hopped in and bundled home. I went inside, left my KFC on the floor in my room, had a shower and a spew and passed out by 8:30pm. Woke up at 2:30am, finished my Sweet Chilli Twister (which was amazing, by the way), and drank 5 glasses of water before passing out again. Admittedly not my finest hour, but at least we were home, all safe and not embarrassing ourselves in front of strangers. Right mum?
Amazingly, when I woke on Sunday morning bright and early and trained into the city to meet Siobhan at her apartment, I was fine. Perfectly healthy. I was even better after a coffee and a hot ham and cheese croissant. Those things are the shit. Siobhan rocked up a short time later with our ride for day - the machine that was going to bring us to Healesville (in the country) and back. A 1990 model, butter yellow Toyota Carolla. It was great. There we were, cruising the highways behind Melbourne, getting out of the city for the day with the windows down and our hair billowing. The weather was spectacular, and to top it all off, once we'd arrived and met the other ex-pats at a big winery shed in town called The Giant Steps, I had another hot ham and cheese croissant. Bril.
The day was lovely - we trawled the local shops and I invested in a vintage pink tee with lace around the top, some creamy crocheted fingerless gloves and some hindu prayer flags from one of the best hippie stores I've ever set foot in (it smelt devine). A trip to the Healesville Animal Conservatorium rounded out the day and we drove home snuggly with the heater on, all topped up on the fabulous, clear country air.
Back to work on Monday (27th Jun), wherein the afternoon Shaggy, Lyndon and Aiden came in to see me and pay for the boy's Euro trip and insurance. How excitement! They then waited next door at the Lucky Coq til I finished work, and we all drove back to the boy's house in Glenhuntly together. This wasn't planned, but we had one of the best nights! Brent had left for NZ on Sunday, and I was getting around in just my tights and one of his oversized Bintang singlets which fit me like a dress. We got baked and drank beers and went on a mission to Sevs Elevs... and we were all in bed by 11 like good kids.
When I woke up in the morning the boys were gone - left for the airport, to depart to NZ for the week themselves. Lucky things. I was super jeal and would have loved to have gone. Unfortunately someone had to stay home and do some work - and that someone was me! Next time.
On Wednesday after work I met Ju on the footbridge over the river, and we got cash out and hit the Ponyfish, regular Bronni and Ju style. It was windy and a bit rainy, but we were loving it. We really wanted to go dancing, but couldn't think of anywhere on a Wednesday night - plus we're too poor/tight for cover charges. Rules out a bit. So we talked to some random boys for a bit, then ended up heading to KFC for dinner and home (not before I'd trashily managed to drop potato and gravy all over myself and the pavement). We sat in Flinders Station for a bit, giggling at weirdoes and people watching, and I tried to quell fears that something terrible might happen on the late train home. I get so paranoid when I'm home late on the train and drunk; the lights are so bright. I got home perfectly safe, and may have even cheekily caught the bus up the hill. Hey - safety first, right mum?
30th of June rolls around - a massive day at work where we had to make sure everything financially was done and dusted. But the real clincher of the last day of June, when you work for Flight Centre as a company, is the infamous 30 June Party, just another reason to get gassed at a work hey-ho. This year, ours was held at Camberwell, so we caught the train after work - just Teegs, Lizzie, Emms and I. We got changed and got pretty in the back room, before smashing two bottles of wine and Vietnamese food at New Wind on Chapel. You could say that by the time we hopped off the train in Camberwell, we were a bit chatty and more than ready to party.
Well, on Friday morning I woke up at home, in my own bed, with a blood nose and pool cue chalk, indian war paint on my cheeks. It was a pretty big night, yes. Luckily, I had the day off, with my only priority being to pick up my bag from work and buy a bad jumper for Alanna's going away party that night.
I leisurely made my way in to Chapel street, wearing my little blue and white gingham summer dress (it was a beautiful day), my woollen poncho and freshly washed hair. Again - I feel I woke up freakishly healthy for the amount I drank the night before, and this was reinforced as I stepped in the door of my store to see the others, who all had to work that day. Emma had only just finished yakking and had a huge headache. She looked like death, poor thing, but was ready to make an attempt at keeping lunch down. I went across the road with her and Teegs and we got Hooked fish n chips. After that, I went for a walk and managed to score the Bad Yumper of my dreams. Thanks SHAG. You're beautiful. All my stuff in hand, I then dragged myself all the way down the other end of Chapel St, onto Church street and then Bridge Rd, which is where I wanted to meet up with Ju and Lauren at the Mt View Hotel. I had a beer and some hot chips with them before we all caught a tram into the city and a train home.
That night I was back on Chapel for Alanna's going away party at Somewhere Bar. My bad jumper was made of the softest wool, and has a little house, and mushrooms, and trees and little men parachuting knitted into it. And little beads. SO cool. The party was fun - my favourite part was when Alanna came over to me clutching a little blue Tiffany's box. I grasped it thinking it was a super classy going away gift and peeked inside excitedly, only to find it empty but for two classic rolled doobies nestled in the packaging. Nice style, Lans haha. However, by this stage I was feeling the effects of a big one the night before, and poor Emma was dying on the inside. We managed to sneak away early, at ten (Sorry Lans! We love yooouu), and snuck equally as guiltily right into San Churro's, for my very late-night, exciting introduction to the wonder that is hot doughnut-like bread sticks dipped in warm melted milk chocolate. Night complete. Train home.
On Saturday I stayed home (all day! I know!) and generally missed the boys. Bloody NZ. But I did manage to find this video clip to a rather mad dubstep song which, if you know Brent, Shaggy and myself, is incredibly hilarious. We swear this will be us in fifty years, and we look forward to it.
Sunday was the 3rd of July, the day before Independence Day in America. I spent it with my good friend Dadzie, wearing jeans, a tee, my big blue (lighthouse owner's) coat and gumboots, and road-tripping to Phillip Island in his fully sic 4WD. It reminded me so badly of Matty and my four wheel drive trips in high school to Landcruiser Mountain Park and the like, and I had such a fun day! Thanks Dadzie! I saw the whole bottom side of Phillip Island (nothing between Tassie and me - hi mum), Pyramid Rock, and we held our breath as we crossed the bridge, as per tradition. Fish and Chips for lunch, cider on the way home and a chill sesh in my courtyard with good tunes finished off the rainy, happy Sunday. Fun.
So I know I'm behind, but I promise to write more tomorrow/soon. All I can tell you for now, is that the next few weeks involves a new boy coming back to work in our store with us (yay! not all girls anymore - love you Dan the Man), a riotous going away party and 21st - both for cousins, losing and finding Brent's beloved beanie, a session in God's Kitchen, some seriously crazy brownies that didn't just taste good in your mouth, more new friends and a Taxi man who made me cry. Oh, and me in the act of stealing a hankie from a different Taxi man.
But thats the NEXT chapter - time for bed little ones! Goodnight xx B
