It's raining in Melbourne. It really is quite miraculous to see water falling out of the sky.

Not only that but the State Library's roof has a leak.

A two metre square section has been roped off with one of those "CAUTION WET FLOOR" signs with the man slipping amusingly over onto his arse inside a triangle. There is also a motley collection of buckets, an old shirt and a collection of (self-appointed? One can't tell) experts with clipboards, peering up at the very high roof, which reveals nothing other than that it is a roof and that presumably it contains a hole.

If it were an episode summary in a TV guide, it would say:

"A major storm hits town and the library cracks a leak. Hilarity ensues".

It's definitely the most excitement I've seen in here since the year twelves left.

My study habits, such as they are, were established over a decade ago in year twelve, altered slightly at university to incorporate a cafe that served beer and nachos and contained like-minded procastinators and a pool table, and honed in recent years on account of the age-old adage of self-employment (taught to me originally by my year ten maths teacher) that "the only person you're letting down is yourself".

The two things I now require in order to write are:

1. No distractions.

2. Inspiration to work.

The former is a source of constant frustration on account of my zero tolerance policy for libraries not being (as yet) universal law. Sure, it may be difficult to police a zero tolerance gaffa-tape-over-the-mouth policy across the board without running into trouble with civil libertarians and so forth but SURELY IT IS WORTH IT SO SOMEONE... ANYONE... CAN GET SOME WORK DONE.

Anyway, at the moment, I have to trick myself.

The library has internet. I have to make myself go outside to the cafe and have a cup of tea while I write things without the internet. Never has so much work been done as when I'm having a "break" from my work.

Looks like the internet might be the next thing to go. Right after the beers and the nachos.

Have you ever noticed that when you're wearing headphones or listening to music in the car, not only do you walk/jiggle/tap to the beat of the music you're listening to, but so does everyone else?

I swear there were two people arguing in a traffic jam today with hand gestures choreographed to very spooky effect to accompany Bright Eyes' Christmas album. It was like watching my own short film on punt road. Performance art has its place.

In other news I have finished watching degrassi and press gang and now i'm reading young adult fiction. It's bloody great. I don't know why I ever moved on.

I'm currently reading Doug McLeod's very, very funny books that make me laugh out loud (and wonder how on earth we got him to agree to work with us), but prior to that I was reading Sonia Hartnett, Meg Rossof, and a book of short stories that came pretty close to giving me nightmares. Kids' books are awesome and I doubt I will ever go back.

Meanwhile, wouldn't a quiet break over Christmas be lovely?

Yeah, right.

Do you ever get disappointed when you find out a word doesn't mean what you hoped it might?

I have a major in English and I thought sartorial had something to do with being witty.

Sartorial: pertaining to a tailor.

Pertaining to a frigging TAILOR?

That is so very disappointing. Not only does it not connote witty or sage comments, which please me, but sartorial turns out to be about FASHION, which displeases me enormously as anybody who has seen me in my "special pants" can attest.

What's more, I thought one could wear a "sartorial expression". One cannot! Not unless it's made of tweed or features a beaded flourish along the seam.

People who are word nerds, like myself, do not often admit ignorance pertaining to words pertaining to anything, least of all a tailor, and so it is that I declare an amnesty on misunderstood words. From now on, I shall declare my ignorance in such matters, as I do in most other matters, on these pages.

Sartorial. It just sounds witty.

By way of explaining my much lamented departure from these pages (thanks for all the mail. My secretary will endeavour to address each of you individually) here are some dot points:

1. It's official: we are putting together a show for the 2008 Melbourne International Comedy Festival. The show is called Greatness Thrust Upon Them and it will be performed in the utterly gorgeous Trades Hall precinct, in the Old Council Chambers. Every time I go to the Old Council Chambers I feel the history of the room creaking all around me. Our show is about history. Arguably all shows are about history, apart from a show I saw in second year university in a carpark, which appeared to be about a woman living on a futuristic planet with a bad case of hives and nothing but a feather boa and an eggbeater with which to pass away the hours. And they were long hours. But I digress.

2. I've been locked away writing our kids' TV episode draft with our script editor, Doug McLeod. It has been a priceless experience and I now have separation anxiety and no idea how I'm going to ever write anything including a shopping list or a birthday card without Doug's help ever again. *Hyperventillates into a paper bag*.

3. Obviously the script for our comedy festival show is some way off completion but we had to submit our image and our show description for the comedy festival guide this week. Submitting an image when you don't have a cast, and a summary of a show you haven't finished writing is an interesting exercise in issue-avoidance. Saying nothing while purporting to say something extremely interesting is a fine art reserved in normal circumstances for print journalism and teenagers.

4. Look, I have skills too. I can do stuff. Just because everyone else knows how to use photoshop to the maximum degree of hilarity doesn't mean I don't throw a mean frisbee or make an excellent cup of tea. Just because everyone else spends their spare time replacing Britney's head with Graham's from the accounts department doesn't mean I've been wasting my time. Just because it took me an entire day of googling things like "rasterise" and calling Stew in Thailand to find out what a dpi was and how come 100mm kept reverting to 98.2mm before I could do a simple thing like colour in the tie on a famous photo DOES NOT MEAN I AM A STUPID PERSON. It does, however, mean that Stew was boarding a boat in Thailand while saying "go to the dropdown menu". It also means that our image was handed in just in the nick of time.

5. I spent two days last week in Warrnambool with my law-talking-job, including a particularly enjoyable evening in my hotel room drinking vile cups of tea with UHT millk and putting the finishing touches on the episode draft until midnight. Still, it was an interesting trip. The Law Foundation is running an educational and community programme in rural areas (hence my previous trip to Mildura) so it's interesting work and I wouldn't mind living by the sea, if it somehow was made compulsory.

So those are my dot points to excuse my absence. Not really much point making them dot points if the only reason they are dot points is because they are preceded by numbers, but shoosh, I tried. I am writing this from my office (the library) and I am flanked on one side by a ball of phlegm surrounded by a sniffing human being and on the other side by a quite crazy lady singing and laughing and occasionally talking in tongues.

It is nice to be home.

Can't talk.

Writing.

xxxx L

My word, what a difference a day makes.

Highlights from my election night:

1. My friend Tim, who had vowed with a friend of his that if John Howard lost the election they would "dance naked in the streets" lived up to his promise in Fitzroy, a moment I mercilessly missed but which fills my heart with glee.

2. Popping in on Trades Hall on the way to the cinematography awards and noting the studious edge-of-seat dedication to the ABC broadcast, such that people were asked to "shoosh" and applause was greeting Antony Green's early results before even 1% of the votes were in. Meanwhile, on the stage, people were setting up for what I imagine turned into a massive party but which (when I was there at about 5pm) was reserved and respectful, cautious and calm.

3. Receiving text updates at the cinematography awards and sprinting from table to table to spread the love.

4. The moment when a cinematographer bounded up on stage unannounced, wearing a Kevin 07 T shirt and bowing as though perhaps he was responsible for the Ruddslide.

5. Thinking everyone was hilarious and texting almost everyone I'd ever met to tell them that I loved them. I do apologise.

It is quite, quite strange, for someone who has lived for so long in a country run by people who use words like "non-citizen" and "necessary intervention" and who consider a concern for the environment to be "biased" and "unbalanced", to hear the language change overnight.

I know it's rhetorical, I know it's only language, and I'm not convinced any of it will necessarily translate into policy, but it's a fascinating study in the power of language to change what they refer to in The Castle as "the vibe".

My favourite bit of the election coverage (and I didn't see much of it because I was at the awards) was the bit where Bob Brown was asked by Kerry O'Brien something along the lines of:

"You don't seriously expect the new Labor government to change their minds on the pulp mill do you?"

A grinning Bob Brown didn't miss a beat: "Oh yes I do Kerry".

Bring on the Senate, I say.

This could get interesting...