Homesick.

Despite having a billion work-related things to do, I had one of those perfect Melbourne autumn weekends. I... ate at Pope Joan and Tyranny of Distance, slept, shopped, had a friend round for tea, made some hard decisions re: packing, attended Women of Letters, and am now curled up in a tracksuit, about to enjoy a tofu ginger stir-fry with fresh rice noodles and a few episodes of the West Wing. Even a spot of house-hunting was manageable amidst the joy of all the other stuff.

I am pretty excited that this time next week I'll be in Sweden (!!!!), but it is so wonderful to live in a city as fabulous as Melbourne, with its excellent coffee and my peeps and scarves and coats and literary wunderkinds. My heart breaks with how much I love this town. And I'm going to miss my favourite winter event, Community Cup.

I hope it's a nailbiter like last year (with the Megahertz ultimately victorious). Though of course, footy will be the winner on the day - unlike my beloved Fremantle Dockers yesterday. Let's not speak about that. I hate your stinkin' bayside gutz, St Kilda. You are the only thing on which Mick Malthouse and I can agree.

Melbourne's got shitful beaches and the public transport's fucked, and sometimes it's fucking freezing and/or pissing rain, but goddamnit it's got a good thing going.

Love you, M-town. Will miss you when I'm gone.