After almost two years of trying hard to pass off as a cool and highly cultured Melbournian (all efforts in doing so are still reported to be in vain), I realize that I only love this wonderful city in either one or both situations:
i) when the weather
is nice. Not the 4-season-in-a-day marathon.
Unconditional love? You bet.
Watching the Melbourne weather forecast is almost like reading the horoscope. You should never take it seriously. "Tomorrow's going to be a prosperous day for a Leo. Be ready for new love and travel to exotic beaches this week." "Tomorrow's going to be sunny, with slight rain at night. Look forward to a beautiful sunny weekend." Thank you Mr Weatherman, here I am freezing my toes off because I'm wearing sandals on this rainy and windy day.
But it's not really that bad all the time. The forecast, unlike the horoscopes, is generally true most of the time. And the what we call shower here would only be a drizzle back in Malaysia. Melbourne's experiencing a serious drought right now. The idea of the Melbournians carrying buckets of water from the water tanker like we do in Malaysia during water crisis is quite amusing, though that hasn't happened yet. I hope we'll never come to that. I live on the 13th floor.
Right now winter's almost over. Spring is on its way. I love spring. Not really because of the flowers, but because I can go around without lugging my winter jacket. Not that I've been wearing it much this year. My denim jacket sees Melbourne more this winter than my winter jacket. It's not that cold. Or I've gotten used to it. Or I'd rather freeze my lungs than wearing my not-very-stylish winter jacket. Vanity has no end.
But wonderful 22 degrees celcius days are on its way. Yay! Out! Out! Damn Seasonal Depression!
Winter's out. And my parents sent me some extra money. Both criterias in order to fall in love with Melbourne have been fulfilled (I'll discuss the money part in later instalment. This entry is already too long).
I'm falling in love with Melbourne all over again.