29 July 2017 | One of the best parts about starting afresh is being able to stock your pantry from scratch. Sure, it’s expensive. But I get quite the thrill from choosing an array of spices that are all filled to the brim, unused, still perfectly packaged. The same goes for flour, chia seeds and pasta. I love the process of putting things into glass jars, making the pantry look as pretty as a picture.

On day two of the Melbourne move, while admiring the selection of cooking spices, my sister, Shannon, admired the local talent. “Damn girl, check out that fine…”

“Shhhhh. Keep your voice down.” It was my new local supermarket. Shannon clearly couldn’t give two hoots.

“Simone. Seriously. Simone. Come on. You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. But, no.” I knew exactly what she was referring to.

“Oh, yes”, she replied, nodding her head. “Yes, you are. Yes. You. Are.”

“No. I’m. Not. No. I’m. Not. The Universe, Shannon. The Universe.” I grabbed some turmeric from the shelf.

“Simone. No. Look around you. If this is what you’re getting within a ten-metre radius, just imagine what you’ll get when you up it to five kilometres. Tonight, you are getting back on Tinder. And then we’ll see what the Universe has got for you.”

I wanted to leave this new ‘journey’ to the love gods of the Universe: ‘whatever happens, happens’ and all that jazz. I peered over at the ridiculously tall gentleman at the end of the aisle. Shannon was right – he was ‘damn’ attractive. As was the guy in the tinned tomato section, and the guy trying to pick out a perfect avocado, and the guy who couldn’t decide on which steak to purchase. As I piled up the spices in my single-girl sized trolley, I came to the realisation that my local supermarket is way better than my local bar in Sydney. My local supermarket, particularly on a Sunday night, is also not somewhere I’ll ever go again with anything less than a flawless base. And so, before it was even time for me to swipe my everyday rewards card, here I was swiping right on my next potential Tinder date.

I’ve been in Melbourne for a month now and I’ve clearly wasted no time as I’m up to Tinder date five, maybe even six. Oh gosh, I’ve already lost count. One was atrocious. Like, terrible, just terrible. A couple were amazing. In fact, I would put them up there with some of the best dates I’ve ever been on. But – because there’s always a but – I’m wanting fireworks. Nothing less than bright, colourful, fireworks. And so, unlike Simone circa 2012-2017, I’m not wasting my time on dates that are anything short of beautifully blinding, and of course, just a little spicy. 

And so, it begins. Lots of single fish in bright blue unchartered waters. It’s so refreshing. And oh, so exciting.

Let’s do this. Here we go: The Melbourne Journal.   

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