All Your Empty Houses.

I love Melbourne - really, I do - and it's quite difficult for me to remember that there was a time when I lived somewhere else. Where I felt like I knew which streets fell where, how to find the decent vegetarian treats, who was who and what was what. It's weird, now, for me to see a kid with a Ballast patch, for example, and to remember a time when I'd go see them play all the time. Or, for some reason, when I'm driving up on Sydney Rd, way up near Pentridge, north of Bell, and for some reason it reminds me of driving up on St Laurent, way up in Mile End, north of the 40. Sharing your time between two cities is in a lot of ways harder than travelling all over the place - it's almost like living two separate lives. I guess I'm susceptible to this way of thinking because Sarah K came to visit from Montreal a month or so ago, and all the memories are sitting awkward. I'm also not entirely sure what any of this has to do with this blog. I mean, I guess that all of this writing is ostensibly about Melbourne and the awesome things about it, but surely it's a bit strange to filter these awesome things through the lens of geographical location. And yet I seperate them in my mind, dividing them into Melbourne bands and Montreal bands. Hmmm. Anyways. I miss Montreal, sometimes, you know? Even though I can barely even imagine leaving Melbourne for anything more than a weekend.