My Dream

My dream is to go on a round-the-world trip, visiting everyone I know who lives somewhere else.

My dream is to not be so tired all the time.

My dream is do meaningful, interesting work that pays me enough to do what I like doing.

My dream is to eat roasted vegetables with a fried egg on top and salt and lemon pepper at least once a week. Also, to eat a lot of fruit toast for breakfast. Also, to drink a lot of tea.

My dream is to live on the same street as all my friends and we have barbecues together all the time and watch movies at each others’ houses.

My dream is to go on a road trip around the South Island.

My dream is that every cat I see on every street everywhere comes to me to get its ears scratched, as soon as it makes eye contact with me.

My dream is to learn to bake bread.

My dream is read all the books that I want to read, whenever I want to read them.

My dream is to go on holiday with my partner where we don’t know anyone and we have no schedule or agenda and all we do is walk around and look at things and eat food and read books.

My dream is to understand how plants work and how to keep them alive and to have a herb garden.

My dream is to learn more about octopuses and all other sea buddies, preferably in a hands-on manner.

My dream is to go on a road trip across the United States.

My dream is to live in a Wellington house with a) insulation, b) double-glazed windows, c) some sort of heating apparatus, or d) some combination of the above.

My dream is to visit this ‘cinespettacolo’ that is based on the life of a great great uncle of mine.

My dream is to learn how to wear makeup, sometimes.

My dream is to be able to pick up the basics of any language I encounter in a reasonably short amount of time.

My dream is to start a podcast where I just basically talk to my interesting yet non-famous friends about interesting yet non-famous things they do and it’s all very trenchant and witty and high production value—but not in a pretentious way!–and my voice also magically sounds very good in peoples’ earbuds. (Any famous friends of mine are, of course, also welcome to participate).

My dream is to have truly, truly excellent hair.

My dream is to have people over to my flat more often and remember how to practice hospitality.

My dream is to write and produce a play.

My dream is to be very effortlessly and casually pulled together, outfit-wise, at all times.

My dream is that if I sign enough petitions and write enough emails and make enough donations and vote for enough politicians then somehow everyone will have enough water and food and housing and education and healthcare and everything will be solar powered and public transportation-y and equitably funded and climate change slows down and I will be able to read the internet news without that sinking feeling.

My dream is to get to know my nephew.

My dream is to sing more often, preferably with a band that specializes in hilariously mismatched cover songs, even though I am perfectly aware that it is no longer 2005.

My dream is to text my mom, and to receive a text from her. The text says: ‘I am coming to visit you for a month in Wellington, as I do every year.’