Sunday, 6 December 2015

My Life in St Kilda

For the same reasons exposed on the previous blog post about this topic, we decided to write about one of our Australian experiences in terms of living, from when we lived, or from when we were the closest we have ever been to the real world object that refers to the concept of living.

We were on the verge of moving to Charnwood Road when we met this possible prince at an academic encounter where people were dealing with quality. He looked gorgeous and it was as if he were there just to meet us.

We directed ourselves to the food table and he was coming towards us, as if really waiting for us and there exclusively to talk with us, as incredible as it may seem.

We chatted a bit and we ended up talking about how much in trouble we were to move from one place to another.

Coincidentally, we would meet him by the beach, in St Kilda, as we were exercising. We were actually running when our direction vectors crossed.

He ended up helping us with putting together our just-acquired desk. It was a multitude of pieces we had never imagined we would have to deal with.

We had bought it from a place called Fantastic Furniture, if we remember well, but, in the place, the desk was completely assembled, so that we definitely thought that was the way it would be delivered. Instead, it was the so famous flat pack. Oh, Jesus!

He looked like a God’s envoy: He was putting those pieces together with so much skill that is not a joke.


We now had our white car sitting at the garage together with our brand new bike.

We got a masseur from some services list and this English guy then came to give us a massage.

All was a shock, but he was not repulsive.

He demanded certain things and ended up giving us  a bit more than the expected.

We did call him once more when we were staying at St Kilda East with Brendon and Trish.

We now were frequently seen doing some bike riding or running by the beach or in the parks around.

We would also go to Fitzroy Street to try to find some amusement.

Inside of the apartment, we had our little desk with our book, the one Sever gave us, and we were literally devouring that book for ages now because we really wanted to be able to get those papers, which Eva Stenzdur told us we could get from it.

Mum had advised  us to go away in order to try to find the solution from within.

We then bought a tent, grabbed the car, and put the bike in all on our own, believe it or not. It was like a mum-said sort of thing, so that we did that automatically. She is the greatest psychologist we have ever met, so that she should know better.

We got out of Melbourne and went God knows where, since we don’t even recall the name of the place. We stopped by a camping site a bit freaking out, like what could happen to us there on our own, since we had never done that in life, and managed to actually sleep in the tent for one night on our own. Before that, we got the bike out and went for a ride in the new place, and that was really nice. The adventure of riding a bike in the unknown and by ourselves, and we had never done any of that, was really worth the trip. It gave us a sensation of freedom never experienced before.

We don’t really know what mum was thinking of, but that was probably not the idea involved, since it really did not work.

We continued attending VUT and that is when Shane invited us to have a meal with him on a particular day, perhaps Friday.

We did think that dating someone inside of the university would be way more convenient, since they would understand our issues better than anyone else, and we had already taken notice of Shane because he got a prize in research with his Fuzzy Logic. We did pay special attention to that because we had learned Fuzzy Logic from Priest and that seemed to be one of his passions, since he asked us to talk about it during our talk at Newcastle, where we intended to present is our solution to The Sorites, which had nothing to do with Fuzzy Logic.

Shane was not repulsive, was young, and definitely looked and sounded single.

We were attending VUT from 9 AM to 5 PM or something like that, then staying at the new apartment to enjoy the new start, since that was a real beginning in the First World, and a situation that would be perhaps compatible with what we had in Brazil before leaving or the expected for those who are starting life in another Country: Now the apartment was a studio, was not ours, but we still had an equivalent white zero car in the garage, the novelty of the bike that we could not have where we were living in Rio, for it would be too dangerous, and the excitement of being the owner of our lives again and in full. We had just left a horrible relationship, which was bringing extraordinary loss to us for long, and we were now owners of our personal space again.

Gropius apparently said that human beings need minimum space and a minimum set of commodities as well: He actually defined what was minimum and, if we recall well, he included at least one entrance for the sun in that. We think of the minimum personal space as something like that. Let’s call it MPS.

At that stage, we were still involved with theater,  but from a passive perspective, like once in a while we would get invitations from The Rainers to attend one of their plays.

We were also not actively looking for anything in acting because we were way too involved with our scientific matters and way too excited to do anything else.

We joined a walking group for having found nothing else that were cheap to join.

We then did some walks with them but did not enjoy.

Once in a while we would attend City Baths and play some squash or swim.

On the contacts list, some people like Grace appeared. We actually also gave her a call when we got worried about the events there. She did not have any advice to give to us, unfortunately. She just asked if we owed something to justice or whatever.

Grace worked in a jobs agency and was from Portugal, if we recall well.

We also taught privately whenever VUT had students for us and we were usually full of them, thanks God.

The studio could perhaps be told to be inside of a security building, since we had intercom, but we definitely did not have security guards in the place. We actually got our brand new bike stolen by Trevor's friends there. We think we are sure that it was him somehow, so that whoever was behind him took our bike.

The studio had carpet on it, our fantastic desk, and a futon over an iron structure, which formed a modern sort of sofa.

We were able to use our American cordless phone there, and that was really good.

All that we said inside of the little studio could be heard from the other apartment, next door, apparently.

The street was absolutely wonderful: Superbly arborized, really beautiful and attractive. The aspect was finest, despite it being located in St Kilda. That was like a very exclusive area with access to all in St Kilda. We could ride to the city on bike-only tracks and would be at RMIT in no time, so that it was a really great place to be after we started attending RMIT. It was practically a straight line from where we were to RMIT.

We did our shopping by car and had no home deliveries.

We became frequent customers for a Greek business that sold coffee and sweets and an Italian restaurant, the best we have been in Australia so far.

We sometimes attended St Kilda Baths and swam inside of the pools made of sea water.

So, this would be in 2001, beginning of what we call our martyrdom.