I hope one day I do.

This in itself is kinda crap – Baffi and Mo was really at the forefront of the regeneration of that corner of Redfern. The area now has other cafes – Tapeo, The Eathouse Diner – as well as old stalwarts Big Boys Thai and Patagonian Toothfish. Back when I lived on Chalmers Street I ‘discovered’ Baffi and Mo’s the day it opened and was surprised to find it so trendy/chic. It was unexpectedly good coffee, good food and good service. Plus, it was owned and managed by ladies of my own persuasion.

All the reviews since the new owners have come on board are pretty poor (see Urban Spoon for a range). Cooper and Hunt definitely made sure the cafe had a certain vibe. All the staff were always really nice and would make you feel like they quite liked their job. That’s what made the place great and set it apart from the other local cafes.

I show my own prejudices when I say that I’m not impressed to hear rumours that it may now be owned by Hillsong. Go on and be as christian as you like but those guys give me the heeby jeebies. So damn corporate. They may as well be the Church of Adidas or something.

I’m going to be living below the poverty line. Yep I’ll be surviving on $2 a day, eating just rice and beetles – Bear Grylls style! And no beer!!

You may know that I’m studying my Masters in Social Development. My main interest is sanitation and trying to change the fact that 1 billion people currently can’t take a crap without contaminating their water supply. Not. Cool.

You can help educate young people about the effects of extreme poverty. Just sponsor little old me! Any little bit helps – $5 is awesome, $20 is awesomer, anything more is totally the awesomest.

http://www.everydayhero.com.au/lividlili

For everyone for whom I’ve ever cooked, kicked out of my kitchen, presided over the bbq, brought a plate; for all those people I’ve shared a meal with, or those who have generously shared their food with me… please support this program and wish me luck and lots of carbs!

But then I saw she was actually leaning over her phone, apparently watching a movie or something. Well, I suppose you watch snippets of film whenever you can. A minute of film here and there and you might get through a season of Lost in a couple of months.

But then I realized she was taking a photo of my shoes. She was using her hair, her well-coiffed hair, to hide what she was doing. The movement of the train meant she had to take a few shots before she got them in frame. I stayed as still as I could, trying to help her. Well, I suppose you find the bizarre whenever you can.

Sometimes I wonder if ‘smart casual‘ means ‘if you saw it in a magazine, it’s okay – even if it was in the beach wear section‘.

I’m not the highest standard of dresser in the universe. Both my jobs are fairly casual and I usually wear jeans. But personally, I always wear sleeves in work. This is for a few reasons.

One, guys have to wear sleeves, so I don’t think I should prance around with my bare shoulders.

Two, I have a tattoo on my arm, and whilst no one would ever really object to seeing it, to me it just doesn’t feel right. It’s not something I share with my work colleagues unless we’re also sharing a beer.

Three, I have hairy armpits. This freaks people the fuck out. What can you do? It’s a funny old world.

Still, no matter what your personal preferences are, I’m pretty sure that if everyone in the building can see your underwear you’ve gone wrong somewhere.

Until I got home. And found this on my doorstep.

Thx uze guyz!

Oh yeah. I’m from Redfern.

Ashamed!

Please give generously to the Buy A Belt Foundation.

King Street Bum

For the gods’ sake, our teens depend on you! Our future depends on you!

Somehow, the taxi driver started talking about climate change. Honestly, I DID NOT START IT.

“Oh, all these scare mongerers,” she said. “I mean, who cares about two degrees change or whatever. I can’t see it’ll make any difference. The temperature changes all the time.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “But global climate temperature is different to everyday local temperature.”

“Yeah, but you know, it’s just all about taxing us, giving us another tax. And like, there isn’t any science behind it—”

“—yeah there is!”

“—there’s just no science behind it. I mean, you never hear about it on the radio, or on TV or anything. Where’s the science?”

“Look,” I said. “I read a lot of science books. The science is there. It’s robust. There’s over a hundred years of climate science.”

“But where is it?” she persisted. “It’s not in any of the newspapers.”

“You’ve got to go to a library,” I said. “Borrow a book. The fact is, those guys aren’t going to publish any of the science, you won’t see it on Today Tonight or in the Daily Telegraph or on talkback radio. You just won’t.”

“But why not?” she asked. “Why not?”

It’s a good question. Why can’t we read about actual climate science in any of the mainstream publications?

Anyway, I walked slowly back towards the station, keeping a look out for it. You never know, I thought, it could just be lying on the footpath somewhere. A little trampled, maybe, but still okay.

And sure enough, just outside the Tesco Express, I found my beanie. It was neatly folded and sitting on a low wall. Someone had picked up my scungy beanie and taken care of it. I love London.

I’m not sure that if I found a sock on George Street I would pick it up and tie it around a tree, but you never know.