A House Is Not A Home...

WE HAVE A HOUSE!!!

By we, I mean Natasha and myself... By house, I mean a 1st floor shoe box in not so inner burbs Melbourne.

This wonderful news is more of a relief for Natasha than myself as last time we had to move, I was gallivanting around the country, so the poor dear had to pack up the entire flat, locate a new one and move in all by herself.

This time, I was more helpful...well...slightly more. I was here at least and I was the one that viewed this flat so if it's crapola to the max, it's all my fault.

That's about it really. What more can you write about a house you haven't moved into yet? I just hope all of our belongings fit. We're already having a garage sale to reduce the amount of crap we've accumulated since living in Slurrey Hills. Seeing as we're downsizing...we have A LOT to get rid of.

Fish on Friday!

I hate fish!

I want to like it, I know it's good for me but I just can't.

Having said that, even though my family isn't religious, we've only ever eaten fish on Good Friday. This is the one day of the year that I will throw caution to the wind and partake in the consumption of our finned friends.

I usually don't feel 100% afterwards but we all have to do things we don't particularly want to do for the greater good (though in this case I'm not sure what the greater good is).

This year, Natasha and I have decided to throw a small dinner party and, HUZZAH, I get to make the main course. Honestly people, who would get someone who hates, no, detests, no, execrates this form of culinary 'delight'?!! I know I certainly wouldn't yet here I am, slowly working my way through countless numbers of websites, looking for 'fish recipes for people who hate fish'.

There's actually a lot of advice for me and my fellow fish haters. Apparently I should start off with a mild flavoured white fish. Four out of the eight websites I have looked at thus far have recommended Halibut...never heard of it. I'm supposed to stay away from strong flavoured fish such as Cod or Salmon.

I don't even know how to cook it! Why are they making me do this?! Do they want to spend the rest of Easter embracing the porcelain purger?

Ah well, what can I do? Naught!

I shall take this challenge and make the most amazing fish feast the world has ever seen. People will flock from the world over to remark at how someone who abhors fish can prepare and present it with such perfect finesse...

Wish me luck...

This is the first one...isn't it...?

I'm starting this blog the only way I know how...with text...

I live in Australia, Melbourne to be exact. I grew up in the country, now I'm in the city. For those of you who are unaware, the two locations are quite different.

I live with my wife who isn't my wife, actually, we're not even dating. When together we go by the names of Natasha and Jeremy. We often have pretentious dinners that cost us a small fortune. We often go to property inspections under the guise of rich newlyweds whose parents are buying us a multi million $ property as a wedding gift..

We had budgies, they died from the cruel clutches of Melbourne's winter chill.

We had fish, they died from the unusually high levels of chemicals in our water supply.

We don't have pets anymore.

I work in event ticketing, I'm a not so struggling actor/singer (have been quite successful so far, let's see if it continues).

I'm never sure if the full stop should go before or after the brackets. ( )...?

My best friend is a journalist.

I sing and write country music.

Gah!

Should I have mentioned that?

At the moment, Natasha and I are looking for new properties around our fair city. The property we are currently renting is getting its guts ripped out and will, therefore, be uninhabitable. It seems that we will never get to stay in the one place for more than a year.

I'm excited about the move, I enjoy the packing up and getting rid of all the useless shit I've accumulated. More clothing than anything else...and paperwork. I seem to think that any form of letter given to me, whether it be a bill, a bank statement or a letter from my local MP telling me that voting for him at the next election will ensure that I receive everything I could ever hope for is VERY important and will throw it on a shelf which, later, when I'm in a hurry, will be furiously strewn about my floor when I have to find something I actually need.

More so, I enjoy setting up a new house and will not sleep until I've unpacked everything...and I do mean everything! Obsessive compulsive much?

I should probably get back to work...High School Musical On Ice beckons...