Alone in this bed, house and head.

Tomorrow at this time I will be on a plane, a third of the way to Singpore. It really doesn't feel that way. I have decided to go with jeans and a three quater shirt as well as my new wellington-ish boot things (that's a technical term). Oh and my jacket, of course.

I'm all packed and it's only 15kg. Which I think is pretty good for a month. Layering. Lots of layering. I've gotten my international student card which for the record, looks really dodgy, and everything is charged and ready to go. I'm still worried I'm going to finish this dresden files book long before I actually get to london and then have nothing to do, but then again, I hardly ever read while on holiday.

Oreo seems very happy at the foster family, she's spoiled rotten by the boys already. It's a relief to know she's actually enjoying herself and not sitting in some kennel pining.

I dropped the Firefly dvds off at Em's place since Roze wasn't home, Em wasn't there but her mum saw me puzzling in front of the mailbox trying to figure out how to fit it in there. I've never met Em's mum and I've always suspected she blames me for her downfall, but she seemed quite impressed with me. Possibly because I was still wearing my work clothes and looking professional. She probably doesn't realise who I actually am. Oh well. Since I couldn't see Roze, she couldn't give me my b'day present but she told me what it was just so I don't go out and buy it in the meantime - seasons 1 and 2 of Doctor Who. Yaaaaay! Sometimes I feel like I just ramble at my friends and that I'm being annoying, then they do super awesome things and get me presents related to my rambling. Which makes me feel like I'm not just, well, rambling. It's nice :)

Oh I need to clear my camera and not leave it here.

Ah NCIS *shakes head* That woman is so obviously the evil one.

Well I suppose this will be my last blog. I'll be posting as I can, rambling and such, but no promises.

Madness and mayhem to follow.

Music: Nails for breakfast, tacks for snack - Panic! At The Disco
Mood: Accomplished

Stars shining bright above you

There is music, and dancing, and laughing. Old friends mingle and others pretend to still have things in common. She's wearing that dress and acting nonchalant. The room is crowded but as she tips her head back and laughs, there's only this. You cross the room, she smiles as she welcomes you back into the circle of friends, but you don't notice. Instead, you take her glass and set it aside, taking her arm and leading her onto the dancefloor. A smooth, smoky voice starts up as you draw her close. Slowdancing, you cannot resist. You sing the words softly in her ear, breath ghosting across her cheek, both of you barely moving. There is laughing, and music, and dancing, and then there is this.

This is going to sound really random but I feel the need to say it. I am not a huge From First To Last fan, but for some reason I am always taken by 'Ride the wings of pestilence'. I just think it is a fantastic hardcore-ish song. It's got such an omnious feel to it and that bassline. I mean it's quite a disgusting song, but I don't know, something about it just appeals to me.

Sticking to the random tangents, here is another one of my impromptu Torchwood rambles. Today's topic, the subtle character placement in season 2. And by character, I mean Ianto of course. Look, it's not my fault he is so fantastic in season 2, now is it? Anyway, I just noticed it the other day watching 'A Day in the Death' and he's just...there. Overall, his physical presence is greatly pronounced in the second season. The subtlety with which the placement mirrors or supports Jack in most scenes is just dumbfounding. This is why I can't work in the whole screenwriting universe, all these tiny details that someone has clearly sat around and figured out, all of which is meant to add to the story visually (cause damn that infernal screenwriting and it's lack of rambling narrative, show dont tell *shakes fist*), is just something I'd completely overlook. Most of the time I am convinced of the dubious legitimacy of the show in general, but then there are these subtle things, production or whatever, that just completely blow me away.

My dad is watching Top Gear. I fear a pattern is emerging. Also, that show is nothing like I expected it to be....it's kinda insane.

Tomorrow is my last working day until the 5th of January. Woooh! Well, in principle it's "wooh!" I still have a bazillion errands to run tomorrow and packing to finish. Gah. I have no idea what to wear for the flight. I am perplexed by managing the weather shift. Also, I just realised how epically long this flight actually is. Nine hours to Singapore. Something like 12 from there to London. Three hour layover. Zombie like state seemingly inevitable. BUT business class. Hopefully *crosses fingers* Maaaan, business class, it's been far, far, faaaaar too long. And it's snowing in London. I feel woefully underprepared. I am going to die. If I don't come back, please avenege my death. Then again, it's not exactly been warm here either.

My Firefly watching is not going too well, only six episodes in. Dry humour is the damn best though. Wash and Jayne are just...gah.
Jayne: We was just about to spring into action, Captain. Complicated escape and rescue op.
Wash: I was going to watch. It was very exciting.
As they would say, shiny. Doubt I'll finish it by tomorrow though.

I saw a quote today - "lust is negligible when absent." It struck me. Apparantly it's from Maurice by EM Foster, which of course I haven't read.

I should be doing things. Sigh.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear.
Still craving your kiss, I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear.
Just saying this: Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you.
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.
But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.

Music: Dream a little dream - Ella Fitzgerald
Mood: Weird

If I didn't care, would it feel this way

I'm stealing the proper header thing from Abs.

Prompt: "Between an immensity of land and an immensity of sky they sat there, incomprehensible, smiling at a continent."- Douglas Adams, Last Chance to See.
Characters: Phoenix Nesser and Quentin Mitchell (Soliloquy)
Timeline: Close to the end, before she heads to San Francisco.
Word count: 884
Author’s comments: I have no idea what I'm doing here. The prompt seemed to call for something nicer but I couldn't really come up with anything. Besides, Phoenix is going to settle soon so it is kinda optimistic in that sense. She's making peace with her lot, and things will get back to normal with Q and Jameson eventually. She just can't be around them. But yeah. It won't be anything like this when I FINALLY get around to writing it. For one thing, Soliloquy is in first person. I've noticed all my exercises so far have been third, which is probably good, I need the practice. Since I've discovered first person, I hardly ever write in third if I can help it.

***

Phee stood at the edge of the lake, staring across the calm water. A faint breeze freed a strand of hair but she ignored it, completely lost in thought. A figure emerged and made its way towards her. Quentin walked carefully, watching his feet, hands jammed firmly in his pockets. She seemed to feel his presence and her postured tightened. She stood straighter, seeming more rigid somehow. Phee made no overt move to recognise his presence, and kept her eyes trained on the horizon. He hesitated for a few moments, reading the subtlety of her body language that their years of friendship had well versed him in, and then moved to stand alongside her.
“Phee.”
He merely breathed the name and the wind took it and blew it across the water. The distant shore felt as distant as the girl next to him. She squeezed her eyes tightly, she seemed to be waiting for something but Q didn’t say anything more. Glancing at her passive face from the corner of his eye, he suppressed a sigh and turned his attention to the water instead.
Q didn’t understand the awkwardness that was now between them. He couldn’t understand how he could have been so stupid. He wasn't used to this Phoenix, the unreachable one, the one who was an expert at removing herself from others. He remembered the Phee who broke Luke Tucker’s fingers in the sixth grade after he tripped Q in the hall, or the Phee picking him up after a particularly rowdy house party that left him feeling drunk for about two days afterwards. He remembered a Phee that helped him memorize Shakespeare quotes for his exam, and who then yelled at him for not paying attention cause X-Men was on. Now he didn't know if he could still reach that particular version of Phoenix Nesser.
“Are you happy Q?” she asked, startling him out of his thoughts. He dragged his eyes up from the water to look at her, but she was still staring across the lake.
“I am. I really am. Well, I mean, I’d be happier if we....”
“Are you in love?”
“I…well…I don’t…” he stuttered, unsure of what the appropriate answer would be, and wondering if he even had an answer at all, let alone an appropriate one.
“Does he love you?” she asked quietly, interrupting again.
“I don’t know.”
Phee glanced at from the corner of her eye. The movement was quick and subtle, Q missed it completely.
“Why do this then? Why act on it?”
“I didn’t plan this you know.”
Phee sighed and closed her eyes again. Q took her hand and the simple gesture made her breath hitch slightly. It felt like everything was crushing down on her, suddenly and unexpectedly. Her hurt told her to pull her hand back but she was scared that letting go meant being lost in all this uncertainty.
This was familiar. This was how it was meant to be, how it used to be. When Phoenix was six, she tripped during a game of tag and skinned her knee. Q never left her side and he had held her hand while his mum cleaned the cut. At eleven, when she broke her arm, it was Q who was there for her. Then there was fourteen, where he held her hand all through the night after a particularly bad fight with her mother. Phee had always needed Q, and he had always been there. In fact, the only reason he had come to town in the first place was because she had needed him. All this had happened because he thought he should be around, just in case. She had raged and ran away, not once, but twice. She had hurt him, and used him, and still there he was, after all the madness, still holding her hand.
He squeezed her hand lightly and she returned the gesture.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Phee finally turned to look at him.
She knew it was selfish of her. He had nothing to apologize for. But this time was different from all the others. It had always been her battles, her demons, and not his. He wasn’t just there to hold her hand this time, he had accountability. Phee needed to hear those words. It had hurt. It did hurt. But deep down she knew it wasn't his fault.
Phee leant into him, nudging him with her shoulder and nodding her head across the water.
“Still feels like the beach, huh?”
He smiled and nudged her back. “Always.”
“Tell me this is something you’ll be missing.”
“Always.” He repeated earnestly, meeting her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Q wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. They stood staring out across the water. Phee sighed and her posture changed again slightly, a resolute expression on her face. Q instinctively knew what the change meant and pulled her closer to him.
“Where are you running to this time?” he asked quietly.
“Wherever the first flight takes me.”
“Don’t go.”
“You know I have to.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed. "Feels like all we're doing is apologizing."
"But I am sorry."
“Don't be.”
They stood in silence as the last few traces of daylight faded from the sky. Then slowly, Phoenix extracted herself from under his arm. She pecked him on the cheek, and when he didn’t turn, she gave a faint smile and walked away.

Music: Claire de lune - Debussy
Mood: Tired

You took me over, take a look at me

Ok list time, things I still need to do:

- Watch Firefly
- Give Firefly back to Roze
- Email people
- Charge phone
- Charge iPod
- See Lizzie
- Pack (kinda)
- Clear photos
- See Em
- Hand in Honours proposal
- Get student card
- Send christmas cards
- Get SS gift
- Buy last minute stuff
- Take Oreo to vet

Gaaaaaaaaah *keels over* I haven’t slept properly in days. I have been more social in the last week than entire month. Brain malfunctioning.

Watched Waitress with Roze last night, we share a mutual appreciation of Nathan Fillion. It was good but the ending was far from satisfactory though. We had dinner in Newtown and wandered about. It was freezing. It is freezing. The seasons missed the memo where it’s meant to be spring.

Breakfast with Em this morning. She got me a Pandora bracelet and John Barrowman autobiography for my b’day. We now all have these Pandora thingies. She got me a little music charm too, quite cute.

So tired. Have to bath Oreo, vacuum, have shower, then go check out her potential foster home for while we’re away. I say potential but really it’s the only option so it’s a matter of sucking it up and getting on with it.

Oh and then I’ll watch Firefly when I get home around 8, so I guess I could get in what, 5 or 6 episodes before 2am? Tomorrow I’m up early to take the furball to the vet, then into the city super quickly before heading back for work. After work I have to finish watching the dvds, possibly go to Roze’s place, I don’t know. Tuesday is my last day of work, then I’m out with Lizzie, then I have to stop by Roze’s place if I hadn’t already to drop off the dvds and pick up my b’day present and then go home and definitely finish packing. Arguments and nervous breakdowns to ensue, no doubt. On Wednesday it is drop off Oreo at woman’s place and then probably head to the airport. Fuck. Going away is hard.

Music: Next to you - The Offspring
Mood: Busy, busy

The night is too beautiful to fear the uncertainty

"What are you doing?"

There is light in the dark. Tiny pinpoints from unmentionable distances away, blinking and dancing in galaxies whose names I don’t remember. It takes forever and a day for the light to reach us here, and by the time we do see it, as soft words are carried away on a summer breeze, that star could already be dead. Burnt out, snuffed out, extinguished, and gone, beyond recall. Distance and time, such fragile concepts. Both have a mind of their own, sentient manifestations within my own soul. Sometimes far too quick, sometimes agonizingly slow. Never the way you wanted it at the time. Retrospection. We never know what we need until we look back on it. We never fully appreciate the inestimable layers found in a day; a normal, every day. We never fully appreciate beauty until it’s gone.

It grounds me. I spin until I fall in the tall grass, itching but not moving, dizzy but not caring. I imagine I can feel the world turn, see the world turn. I watch the horizon, the curve of the earth. I climb onto the roof and watch the light changing. Azure, light magenta, persimmon, vermillion, champagne, sapphire, midnight, salmon, fandango, ice. Nothing stirs. I am a speck. Another soul, uncertain and misguided. A grain of sand on a beach. A bubble in the ocean. Life moves around me. I am insignificant in the face of three hundred and sixty five (and a quarter) rotations. Inconsequential at twenty three (and a half) degrees. The changing of my moods is infinitesimal to the changing of the seasons, but we all wait. Waiting for revolutions. Waiting for reasons. Waiting for equinoxes. Waiting for understanding. And you.

There is nothing. I am nothing. Nothing other than this. Sleepless nights under a canopy of distant light, the sighing music of the wind. Nerve endings like violin strings. The ghost of a touch across the tension. Deep breaths and tingling skin. Steal my breath. Break my heart. Tangle in my senses. Give me an impression of being in this world. It’s there, in the pale moonlight, in the death throes of a twinkling star. Waiting for this moment to be taken. Feel it in the turn of the earth, feel it under your feet. Swallow it whole and never look back. I am nothing. This is nothing. And it is perfect.

"Loving every breath of you."

Music: Gorecki - Lamb
Mood: Drained

I'm a fool for you

Okay, writing prompt exercise numero duos. It be this picture -

The piece doesn't really adhere to it strictly, but the underlying principle is the same. This time it features some of the cast of Soliloquy - Phoenix Nesser, Jameson and Zildjian Wright, and the random Tate twins who I namedrop whenever it suits me. Word count at 477.

***

Phoenix stood at the glass doors, staring out at the pool beyond. Jameson lay next to the edge, lazily trailing his hands through the water, while Michigan Tate floated along on the water lounge. Her unbelievable blonde hair, which had no right to exist outside of a shampoo commercial, fanned out around her like a halo as it seemed to trap the sunlight. Michigan’s twin brother emerged from the far end of the pool, blinking water out of his sleepy blue eyes as he shook his head like a wet dog. It earned him a splash as reprimand but the action only made him smile widely. Phee shook her head. The word impish came to mind.
“What is this? A halfway house for misguided celebrity offspring?” she muttered, narrowing her eyes as Jameson propped himself up on one elbow as Michigan floated closer to his side.
A snort behind her made her turn around. Zil was sitting at the dining room table, arching an eyebrow over the piece of paper he was holding up.
“Pot. Kettle. Black.”
“Where did you learn to talk like that?” she asked, casting another look at the pool.
“TV. Shocking, isn’t it?”
Phee threw a grin at him only to find him focused intently on the paper again. She sighed and moved closer to glance over his shoulder. The dark wood table was barely visible under the sheaves of paper, all covered in what ranged from scribbles to random detailed images to what looked like storyboards. Phee moved a few around, picking one up to study it more closely.
“You’re making a comic book?” she asked, surprised.
“Graphic novel.”
“That’s very um –”
“Nerdy? Yeah, I know.”
“I was going to say awesome.”
He looked up and grinned at her, and she returned the gesture fondly. There was a smudge of graphite on his left cheek but Phee didn’t say anything. It suited the boy somehow. He turned his attention back to his work, blonde hair falling into his eyes as he bent closer to his creation. Oh yeah, she could see him as an artist. An artist and a heartbreaker, given a few more years. Just like his brother, she mused, only with more introspection and less swagger.
Her eyes followed the natural progression of her thoughts out to Jameson who was now making a show of diving into the pool. He cut through the water smoothly, sending out ripples across the surface. The metaphor didn’t escape Phee; after all Jameson sent little ripples out around him with his every movement. Or at least he did where she was concerned. She watched him resurface and he caught her eye, grinning and tilting his head back in a clear invitation.
“Such a sucker for a sweet talker,” she murmured under her breath. With a sigh, she stepped out onto the deck.

Music: Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
Mood: Caffeinated

Come on now listen to reason

I've been trawling through the Torchwood/Who fandom as of late, as if that wasn't blatantly obvious, and it just astounds me. It's a really bizarre thing, and not in a bad way. It's just...different. There seems to be a level of respectful differing of opinions and just an overall accepting vibe about the whole thing, which is so completely different from any fandom (well ok. bandom) I have ever observed. That said, there is an awful lot of oversimplification and reading too much into things. I am such a lurker. What can I say? It's kinda like people watching, except with words. I like studying the way people talk, when commenting or whatever, the use of words and language and such. It's like...research. Maybe I can write convincing character voices cause I study how people "talk". I do this in RL too, I'll sit and eavesdrop on random conversations. Write down an interesting line or observation. That's right, I am the creepy person in the dark corner at Starbucks.

Anyway, if I had a point, it escapes me. I think it comes down to the fact that I simply like knowing things *points to self* I am a sponge.

I just had to drive to work to get my notebook which I stupidly forgot there. Idiot.

My mind is a quagmire. I have had barely any sleep for the last few days. Last night was especially bad. One would think, when you are already exhausted, you wouldn't have so much trouble sleeping. This thought however merely tries to lull you into a false sense of security cause in my case, it is blatantly not true. The worst part is that when I finally fall asleep at 3, I wake up again all the time and there is this lapse in time where I don't know if I am actually awake or dreaming. I hate that. My eyes are burning. I am on my fourth cup of double strength coffee for the day.

Speaking of coffee, I wish I knew who to complain to because the quality of caffeine based refreshment in this household has gone steadily downhill ever since that atrocious Tefal Quick Cup appliance made an appearance. Dead convenient though it may be, I feel no one is putting enough effort in to making coffee anymore. Coffee is the reason I get up in the morning, without coffee, Jen as we know her ceases to exist. Suffice it to say Jen is not amused. It's fine when I make my own coffee as I fiddle with everything until it seems right, but when my dad makes it, it's just blaaaargh. Which sucks cause he used to make really nice coffee. I suspect the main problem is he has lost the ability to stir properly. So when I take a sip and come to the conclusion there is no sugar in it, and I am too lazy to get up, merely drinking it the way it is until I get to the bottom and nearly die as a mutated sugar lump very slowly moves to attack me, I am forced to heave a sigh of impatience. My mum on the other hand does not understand the delicate balance between milk and hot water. I don't say anything cause then I'd be forced to make coffee all the time for everyone, and I'd rather not. Perhaps I should start taking it black with no sugar? I am subtly urging them back towards the use of proper coffee, like we used to have. We went through a faze with it, I don't know why it suddenly disappeared. Hmmm coffee beans.

Enough of my addict behaviour.

God I have so much to do. I haven't done anything I was meant to do before going away. Things like lose weight, or develop muscle definition, and save money. Sigh. I frustrate myself sometimes...most of the time in fact.

Music: Hey Hey Disbeliever - The Living End
Mood: Exhausted

Convexed you bend, twist and shout

*chews nails* I cannot get a fucking kennel to take Oreo for a month. It's driving me mental and my dad is nagging about it which of course makes it ten times worse. Grumble.

I saw Quantum of Solace with Lizzie yesterday. Made of win. It's the shortest Bond film made so everything was happening pretty fast. I loved the chick drenched in oil, recalling the chick painted gold from Goldfinger. Classic stuff. Besides let's face it, James Bond is just the coolest. I am hard pressed to find someone overall cooler. And he is sexy. I know lots of women think it's chauvinistic or whatever, but it's James Bond. Who cares. The new franchise is remaking a lot of Bond convetions though, not that I mind. Sometimes conventions just make things stagnant and predictable. He wasn't even double crossed by a girl in this one...and she could so look after herself, well for most part, which is a change. Oh, and I loved what they did with the Martini scene. Sigh. Bond is getting his cred back. It's fantastic.


(I love that shot, the suit and the gun coming over the hill is just gaaaaah! It is not however in the movie. Denied.)

I then headed over to Roze's place since we were all going to dinner. She decided it was my b'day dinner, I had little say in the matter. Em had just gotten back from Brisbane, so everything was a bit crazy. Anywho, ended up at a nice little place at Brighton. Windy as fuck, which didn't deter us from an evening amble around the beach. Was freezing though so it didn't last long. I was being a pest with the new camera...which it was decided needed a name. Never settled on one though since we have the attention span of fleas and kept getting distracted by silly things. It was very amusing though. I ate far, far too much. We always get way too much food that we share and it always ends in tears. After that Em and I frustrated Roze with our laziness (hilarity ensued) before we went to VideoEzy and back to Roze's wonderfully comfortable couches. I was exhausted so I only stayed for one movie - Thank you for smoking, with Aaron Eckhart, which I've been meaning to watch for ages. It was good *thumbs up*



Getting home was a nightmare. The M5 was closed so I had to take the surburban route and Forrest road was just at a standstill. It took me like 45 mintues to get home where it usually takes me 15 at the most. All the while an EPIC storm was building, so as I was driving along it began pouring and the lightening started up in earnest...always fun and games.

Oh and here it comes again. Joy.

Currently trying to figure out what sort of reference list I can attach to my honours proposal. I just dont understand how I can really reference something when it's a writing proposal. Siiiigh. Oh I know, I'll steal the references from my Genre Fiction reader. Mwahaha.

Ugh.

Music: Monster - The Automatic
Mood: Stressed

With every mistake, we must surely be learning

The first of my new writing exercise regime.

The prompt for this was the following line from Hey Jude by The Beatles (of course) - The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better. It features Eric and Kill from Amped, and comes in at 844 words. It's probably not the best, but hey, practice makes perfect (and for those who don't know, no, I don't write mindless romantic dribble, there's some real shit going on in Amped, but this is just a snippet of a bigger whole...all these exercises will be like that, I am more trying to just write as opposed to actually convey an entire story in a few hundered words, so yeah, just keep that in mind.)

***

How did things come to this? When exactly did he let things get so out of his control that he ended up punching some or other tour manager and standing in the flowerbed outside a label party? Eric wished he knew.
Another wretch from the girl next to him distracted him from his thoughts and he turned to her, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she doubled over. He didn’t bother masking his concern as Kill shook with the force of her body exorcising the litres of Snakebite she’d downed during the night. Her hair fell haphazardly across her face, sticking slightly to a pale cheek. Eric noticed her hair was getting longer and more dishevelled. They were all going that way. There was hardly time to sleep on tour, let alone maintain hairstyles. Of course Phoebe had been threatening to tie them all down and shear them, but Tyler had been a little too keen on helping and no one really wanted to let him near a pair of scissors if they could help it.
He smiled at the thought and almost unconsciously brushed the stray hair behind her ear. He liked it that little bit longer. It made her seem more fragile somehow, like someone who might actually need him. Kill’s eyes snapped open at the motion, and when she looked at him, it was both grateful and angry. There was something else too. Something that made his stomach tighten but he quickly suppressed it, forcing himself to deny he even saw it in the green depths of her gaze in the first place.
He looked away quickly and she straightened. Yeah sure, she needed him. She needed him like he needed Tyler’s Metallica binges when he had a hangover.
“I don’t get you Hayes,” she said quietly. He titled his head slightly at the sound, but didn’t turn to face her. He could imagine her perfectly, outlined in the haze of the not-quite-full moon surrounded by trampled flowers, with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed.
He couldn’t do this. Not to her. He didn’t deserve it, and she certainly deserved better. If he turned around and met that gaze, the one that was always searching and which always seemed to see too much, he wouldn’t be able to turn away, and he knew that he should. He was broken and a part of him didn’t want to be fixed.
He scrunched his eyes and tried to hold onto the feelings, the loss and the guilt that kept him up so many nights. It was too easy to forget things when he was with Kill, too easy to want to be whole again. He sighed and opened his eyes only to find her standing in front of him, concern outweighing the wealth of emotion in her eyes. God, she had such honest eyes.
“Are you ok?” She touched his arm and he started, backing away from her. Kill immediately brought up her defences, fire in her voice again as she stared him down.
“What do you want from me?” she spat, hand on her hip just as he’d imagined it.
Eric opened his mouth to respond only to find he had no witty reply, no sarcastic observation to hide behind. He tripped over his words and cursed his overenthusiastic alcohol intake which was no doubt to blame for this entire fucking mess.
“I – I want to love you.” The words tumbled out on their own accord and as Eric heard them cutting through the night, he blinked in surprise to find that they were in fact his. Kill stared at him, a mirror of his own reaction.
“I want to let myself love you,” he said again, barely more than a whisper.
She shook her head, slowly, as if rolling the phrase around her head. She didn't take her eyes off him before she moved, closing the distance between them again.
“You don’t know what you want, do you?”
Eric dropped his eyes to the floor as he gave a barely audible reply. “I wish I did.”
Kill said nothing. Instead, she took his hand and squeezed lightly. He stared at their hands for a second before he laced his fingers through hers. What was it about his girl that always put him so off his guard? She was determined to break through his best defences and he wanted to let her through. But he knew where that would end. Still, the basic human contact, the comfort of being touched, of being cared for…it felt better than he was willing to admit to himself. It all came down to basic risk assessment, and he was far too drunk to make any proper decisions.
“We should get back to the van” he said finally.
“Yeah, we should.”
She shivered and Eric extracted his hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She smiled up at him, wrapping her own around his waist. Together they walked down the sloping driveway and into the night, neither one saying a word.

Music: I've just seen a face - Jim Sturgess
Mood: Busy

Moving at the speed of light

Whyyyy do I do this to myself? It's this epic circle of doom - I barely sleep, I'm tired all day, I only fully start feeling like functioning again around 8 which then leads to another night of barely sleeping...and on and on it goes until I eventually spend an entire weekend crashed. But shaking off the cobwebs of sleepiness as best we can, and moving on.

My green slip and registration forms came today. Woe. Cue the slide into finance-induced depression. I knew it was coming, I was desperately trying to save enough money to cover this, Oreo's accomodation, my bills and spending for my trip (cause really, not working for six weeks kills me). But somewhere along the way the best laid plans were forgotten and I'm totally fucked. So I have to put this and Oreo's stuff on the fucking credit card of dooooom, which I've been trying so desperately not to use this year because I find it disturbing that someone who is not even 21 can have such a credit card debt, but I have no choice now. I need to get a loan so I can pay that thing off. They're evil. I pay my ass off at it and it makes barely any difference on the main amount. It's the most futile thing ever. Sigh. Guess there's no point getting all woe about it really, won't change anything will it? Just...leave it and worry about it when I get back. I'll do some epic saving and just pay off all the crap. Only downside is that with the state things are in, I probably won't be able to go away next year. Grumbles.

But whatever. Let's not pontificate on what may happen in the future.

I think in the new year I might get a job as a tutor. Or advertise my services as one anyway, I'm even qualified. I always forget about it.

I've decided I'm going to start doing writing exercises. Just to keep life interesting and my brain ticking over. Let’s say one a day. Various lengths (probably mostly short bits) for either new characters, or my regular cast. I’ll post em up here so they don’t languish on my computer like most of my stuff does currently. I’ll be using various prompts kindly supplied by trusty google. To be tagged under writing:exercise or something like that. Kinda like being in uni...but not. But hey, if they keep making us do it, maybe they're on to something. Can't hurt at any rate.

Tomorrow if all goes well, I'll be seeing Quantum of Solace with Lizzie. I've been stupidly excited for this movie.

Oooh I've got one hell of a short fuse today...my dad is taking perverse pleasure out of provoking me, and I'm stupidly taking the bait, every freaking time. Sigh.

Music: Forever - Chris Brown
Mood: Bitchy

The streets of town were paved with stars

Remember me as a time of day

My brain is exploding with things I cannot say. It's pulsing and twisting, and if I could see it, it would be flashing like a Christmas tree. Appropriate for this time of year. Ideas need to be put to paper, fleshed out, but I feel like I can't keep up, and it'll fade in the light of day. I will wither away and this will mean nothing. At least, that's what the cynical voice keeps trying to say. But I refuse to accept that.

I'm starting to develop ambition for this course I never plotted.

I'll write you a universe, complete with starry night skies in dark blue hues; summer heat and thunderstorms; or ice on all the roads. There is beauty, and angst, and lust, and love, and loss. There is life to be had in fiction - more complete, more fulfilling, more unique, and perfect. Wrapped in imagery, dappled in poetic license, breathing ink and punctuation. Thousands of possibilities, so many ideas swirling and building and fading in and out like a hazy radio signal.

Who knows, maybe one day it'll matter. Maybe one day it'll all make sense. But that doesn't matter. Just this. The night, the cold, the caffeine, the thought of having to go to work in 6 hours when all you want to do is stay awake all through the night bathing in this state of mind. It's all that matters. These brief flashes of feeling alive; when it is perfect, my mind is perfect, my detactment, my anxiety, my lack of normality - it is all perfect, it is all necessary, it all fits. Dysfunctional, sure. Impractical, hell yes. But feeling completely and utterly alive.

Music: A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square - Nat King Cole
Mood: Still creative

Life goes easy on me, most of the time

No love, no glory. No hero in her skies.

This song is gorgeous. Completely and utterly gorgeous. It makes me want to write a story around it, and to wrap it in the emotion, the imagery, it evokes.

I wonder if I should write something for the Anthology. Having never read/looked at the Anthology, I have no idea what they're after. But maybe that's a good thing. Cobble something random together.

It would probably be about immortality. It's something that fascinates me, and it's a subject that lends itself to a variety of interpretations and approaches. Currently, I'm more whimsical and lost in imagery, I'd have to go for something channeling a more 'Existentialism on Prom Night' type of mood.

I wonder sometimes whether my lack of concern regarding my aloof approach to life should be a problem. Shouldn't I care about these things? All evidence suggests that I should. And yet...only conclusion I can draw is that whoever wired my brain did a pretty dodgy job.

Speaking of, is it just me or is humanity slowly sliding towards a 'Gattaca' universe? One day we won't even die any more, brains will be transplanted into jars or something.

I saw this scribbled somewhere the other day and rather loved it -
Who is it that fascinates you?
Who is it that knows you better than yourself?
Who is it that will be waiting here with all ends at the end of the path
with a smirk and a sarcastic comment and a kiss on the mouth?
From 'A plea to the dying' by Emilie Autumn (who is apparantly a singer, although I can't say I've ever heard anything by her/of her even, but I am a sucker for classically trained musicians and believes this defintely calls for further research).

Completely unrelated - money woes. EPIC money woes. Rather worrying seeing as I'm going away in less than two weeks. As always, I fail spectatcularly *headdesk*

Sigh.

I'm half wacthing Almost Famous. It's on, but I'm not completely paying attention. Clearly. I do love it though : "That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter...great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love...the only true currency in this bankrupt world if what we share with someone else when we're uncool."

There are things I should be doing, stuff I should be writing, a life I should be living. Well, perhaps not at this time of night...but the theory is sound. I should probably start taking more chances.

Better a wrecked life than a life so aimless,
Better a wrecked life than a life so soft;
The ominous west glooms thundering, with its fire
Lit aloft.

[from Pastime - Christina Rossetti]

Music: The Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice
Mood: Creative

Spinning on that dizzy edge

God, I am so lazy. Have the makings of a headache but this is what comes from sleeping all morning and spending the rest of the time on the couch watching dvds. It was good though. Lizzie and I are fast becoming experts at this.

Got home after shopping with Em and Roze yesterday post work to find this waiting for me


My parents got me a DSLR camera. It was completely unexpected, I just gaped at it. It's the Canon EOS 1000D. I've just taken a few random shots so far, and it's so quick and clear and fantastic. Now I just need to figure out what all the buttons do. But yes, totally unexpected - am spoiled brat. Although my father is already trying to reappropriate it for himself. No surprises there then.

Music: Just like heaven - The Cure
Mood: Exanimate

The odd kill, who does it hurt?

Warning: This post is rant heavy (and Torchwood heavy I guess)

I am stuck in an endless battle with the Mulberry tree at work (or as it is known in the mother tongue, a moerbei boom, which I realise is a very appropriate name for it since it does in fact instill the urge to hit something). This tree takes up the entire yard and since my car is white, it is not a pleasant experience. I have to hose it down when I get home which means I invariably end up getting wet, then I have to sit around scrubbing at the stains. This tree hates me. This morning I had to stop right under it since both the doctor and the practice manager was there before me...this means not only was it purple when I came out, but birds apparantly attempted nesting on it. Not impressed.

So anyway, lately I've been reading the Torchwood novels, which for all intents and purposes are pretty much just sanctioned fanfiction. I have no idea how this works or how one would become involved in such an endeavour, but it is something sci-fi is particularly fond of (take for example the Star Wars novels which take place post Return of the Jedi and seem to have no real rhyme or reason). Still, my apprehension regarding the validity of their existence notwithstanding, they are well written and I get through them in three hours, not to mention I get a kick out of reading such British things which just remind me of my childhood (so things we say all the time, or my grandparents say, and they don't really use here, which sometimes strikes me as a bit strange seeing as Australia is still technically British as it were), so whatever. Point is, the one I finished last night ('The Twilight Streets') employed an element of the classic plot device I like to refer to as the mind fuck. Now this device is a distant cousin of the dreaded It was all a dream! storyline which should really never be used because all you do is alienate your audience. Let me demonstrate - "It was all a dream?! What was the fucking point of that?! That is three hours of my life I will never get back, you idiot!" This is a well founded argument because what are you doing if not wasting everyone's time? But back to the point. The mind fuck of course refers to that occurrence where someone or something infiltrates our heroes' awareness through some mind/thought/memory control of the highest callibre, so setting up the entire plot, and once the heroes become wise to this action, it is then usually promptly forgotten as part of the resolution. In Torchwood world, I have come across three such situations so far to some degree - in two books and in the episode 'Adam'. Now I have to say, straight from the start the mind fuck storyline gets me offside because as a viewer/reader, you immediately know something isn't right and then you have to sit there waiting for someone to wise up to it, which to me is very frustrating (much like watching Heroes). In particular regards to Torchwood, these mind fuck things make me want to bang my head against a wall because really, in my opinion, a lot of the emotional strength for the Jack and Ianto combination stem from these mind fuck situations, only to be forgotten (completely wasted) when the resolution rolls around and effectively wipes the memories. Jack's complete belief in Ianto in 'Adam', or Ianto's sacrifice in 'The Twilight Streets' are the type of things that should lift the relationship past the indistinct mess it normally occupies. To some extent this also works for the Tosh and Owen situation. But alas, it is not remembered and so I'm sitting there growling numerous variations of "There was progress to be had there! Progress!" while cursing my investment in fictional creations for the millionth time.

Writers will no doubt justify the mind fuck as a way for the audience to learn more about the characters and if it were remembered it would change the characters' dynamic with one another and it'd be awkward. Honestly, can't you find some other way to divulge information about the characters? Some less annoying way? Where things that happen actually matter? In all fairness this is only relevant to the 'Adam' episode, the books did have other things happening and just certain parts of 'The Twilight Streets' were forgotten. All 'Adam' really did was enlighten you of Jack's past, which he could easily have shared with a young Anakin or Luke Skywalker on Tatooine. Not that it isn't interesting, but to make all that progress and then to have them forget it seems like such a waste to me. I realise it is key to the plot, otherwise there'd never be a resolution or whatever, but still. Also, since I'm going on about this already, isn't Jack in general just a little Retcon happy? I mean for someone who went rogue because he had two years of his memory erased, he sure is fine with erasing other people's memories. Which makes one particular part of 'The Twilight Streets' seem a bit laughable to me...Jack as a moral compass? Really? Moral is not exactly the first word that comes to mind.

Testament to all this, my current facebook status reads "Jen gets annoyed with these "memory-failing" story lines" (I have family on facebook, I have to censor myself). Indeed.

On a completely different rambling note, I had to ring Medicare and the woman I spoke to said "My, you are so efficient." Damn straight. Sometimes my polite professionalism scares me. It's like this whole other personality I can adopt when needed. I remember once a teacher from school rang me at work and wouldn't actually believe it was me. I'm damn good at what I do too, if I do say so myself. I realise admin and recepetion are hardly the greatest jobs in the world, a trained monkey could in fact do this job, but I am good at it. Mum's work has tried to recruit me for a full time position twice since finishing school. They're currently trying to entice me again, as they have both the receptionist and PA position going. Lately, I've been thinking I'd be a good PA. I'm organised, I'm efficient, and I'm intuitive. I also love being needed. Like Pepper in Iron Man! I could totally do that. For someone important though, I don't just want to make photocopies, type stuff, and book James' car in for a service. I do that already. And I get paid more. Ah well. Actually, I wish I was less efficient, I wouldn't be so bored at work if I left something on the desk for more than two seconds.

But I digress.

Well, no, not really. You know, knowing how my dad feels about the stuff, I make a point of NOT watching Star Wars, or Torchwood, or Doctor Who, or Serenity, or Lord of the Rings even, when he's at home. And yet, here I am, still being subjected to Pimp my ride, WWE, and Jerry Springer. There is no justice in the world. Oh and now we're watching The Weakest Link. I don't even know anymore.

I swear to god if one more person sends me a mass email and count it as "communication" I am going to send them a virus. Honestly people, pressing "reply all" and sending something that's so fucking old to your entire address book does not constitute as "keeping in touch" ok? Get it through your thick skulls. This appears to be a South African problem, you'd think they'd want to keep me on speaking terms with them if they ever want to see me again. Grumble.

Hey, my Honours form arrived in the mail, signed and perfect. That was fast. So now I have no excuse but to shut up and finish the proposal.

Oh, the obsession for the week! It's going to have to go to another song (I know, that's been happening a lot lately) called 'Polka' by Yves Klein Blue. It's on their myspace over here. It is currently being used in a television car ad, Mitsubishi I think, and it gets stuck in my head. So it's a good thing that I already had it on my iPod. I really like it, definitely grew on me. They've got a bit of that Arctic Monkeys appeal going. And besides, as Butters from The Dresden Files would say - polka will never die!



Now since I've been rambling mostly about Torchwood, I feel it is appropriate to end said rambling with a quote...

Captain John: You have a team! How sweet! Oh, pretty little friend. No blonde though, you need a blonde.
Owen: God, he's worse than Jack.
Captain John: Oh oh do you have a team name? I love team names; go on.
Captain Jack: Torchwood.
Captain John: Oh. Not Excalibur? Blizzard? Bikini Cops? No? Torchwood. Oh dear.

Music: Girls just wanna have fun - The Killers (hmm cover)
Mood: Loathing this headache

I'll swallow my pride if you'll stay for the years

And today I know that tomorrow is going to shine golden and bring our hearts back home

I'm floating down on my little bubble of low-level madness. I had some really loopy random thoughts yesterday...one even pertaining to the nature of immortality, which is a subject I spend much time pondering. Utterly depressing as unending life (or death, depending what incarnation you find yourself in) may be, it can also be completely fantastic. Imagine what you could do with all that time. All the things you could learn! It's gorgeous. Of course you end up alone and miserable, but hey, everything has a price. Unless of course you are a Cullen, in which case you can have a happy immortal family...in comparison to Ann Rice's vampires, who just don't roll that way. Lestat especially has a bad habit of trying to make himself some company and then running off, or letting them run off. It always reminds me of that line in Troy where Achilles is talking about the gods with Briseis and he says "we men are wrecthed things." I always adapt the line to suit my purpose at the time, in this case, we immortals are wretched things. It's relevant, ok! I love that scene, "The gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again."

For the record, I somehow incorporated the movie into an English essay in Year 12, that's why I can recall these lines.

What I find funny is how, sometimes, you'll come across something in some random spot and then suddenly it is everywhere. I came across the term "deus ex machina" on the Tropes Wiki site and since then I have found it in books, articles, even uni readings...and pretty much just everywhere. I went years without seeing it used and then suddenly, it's there. It's much like the Lone Ranger in fact. It's bizarre. All it does however is make me want to watch The Matrix.

My dad is so cute when he runs away from the creepy aliens of whatever I'm watching. He took one look at a bit of 'Small Worlds' and stalked off muttering to himself about things related to Doctor Who and weird creatures. He hates it. I taunt him regularly. Although strangely enough, his objection to aliens does not extend to the talking keychain I acquired today in a moment of weakness. I had to hide my keys cause he kept pressing the "Exterminate! Exterminate!" button. And now my mum wants to take it to work so she can walk around and brandish the "You must be upgraded!" one at people.

See, then people wonder where I get it from.

My purchases for the day did not limit itself to fangirlish acquisitions (although I did get the Torchwood yearbook while I was at it - nothing says fangirl quite like flagrant merch acquisition), I also purchased 2 pairs of jeans (black and worn traditional) and they're gorgeously long. Well not long long, but longer than I am accustomed to having. I love finding long jeans, it's such a rare occassion *revels* Oh and I got an umbrella from Dangerfield after freaking the girl out quite a bit. I forget that most people find it disconcerting when someone wanders in cicrles with a blank look on their faces and touching everything. I was trying to waste time, what can I say? Anyway, the umbrella has skulls on it. It looks pretty flimsy on closer inspection, but it'll do. Hype are still selling those psuedo Wellingtons, at 30% off at the moment. I'm wondering whether I should get a pair...cause I really am going to need waterproof shoes and Docs are heavy. Decisions, decisions. Once I have shoes, I believe I have everything for the trip...well except a plug. But in general it's all sorted. Which is good seeing as I'll be on a plane two weeks from today.

All this madness because I had to go into uni this morning with my stupid Honours forms. Camilla wasn't there, but I was prepared today and left it there along with an envelope so she could simply sign it and send it back to me. Aren't I clever? Come on, someone say I'm clever. She emailed me earlier to say it was in the post. So viola. Once it gets here, I can drop the tree's worth of paperwork in at the Tower and it's all done. Finally.

On my way to uni, which I may point out is exceedinly creepy when there is no one there - just a sleepy security gaurd on the ground floor and the crazy computer lab doors making weird noises and swinging open when you walk past; I saw a funny ad on the bus this morning for a beer company, I think it's Bluetongue beer, and it says "No lizards were harmed in the making of this beer. However one was squashed by our delivery truck in Perth." Tongue in cheek. Very nice.

Oh oh, while walking home from the station (yes walking home, and it was quite hot) I was thinking about scriptwriters and what they're thinking when they kill off their characters. I mean, what makes you think "hmmm, let's kill one of them"? I could never imagine killing one of the ESM crew. How horrible. I was trying to think of who I would kill off if I had to, and I just couldn't do it. Although Tyler would probably be the most likely candidate. Though I suspect Abbi will shoot me for even following this particular train of thought.

Oh. My. God. The whole fangirl/merch thing just reminded me (yes, four paragraphs later, I think it's clear that my brain ain't wired all that sharply at the moment), I have misplaced my Teenagers MCR shirt. I am not impressed. I keep going to put it on and then not finding it. I love that shirt, it's a bit big but it doesn't look stupid. And it's Teenagers. Teenagers! I don't know what the hell could have happened to it. I want it, damn it!

Sigh.

I want a desktop wallpaper that says "You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need" with Gwen, Jack and Ianto. Not surprisingly I had this thought while walking home as well. And indeed, I was listening to the song. As always, trusty iPod Beckettoo is made of awesome. I guess I could make my own wallpaper but I haven't really mastered the art of backgrounds on photoshop, and since having photoshop I have been reluctant to use anything else, even though I have a much better technical grasp of Corel.

You would think I'd have something better to do with my time, but no, I am a useless uni grad now. Watch me waste space.

I realise I didn't have an obsession of the week last Friday, so here's a belated obsession. It's a song called 'Doomsday and the echo' by Lovedrug. It recalls elements of Coldplay and Jack's Mannequin, probably the piano's doing, and is just a really gorgeous soft song. It's a soundtrack song, in my opinion. An honourable mention also goes out to 'I promise you walls' by Shiny Toy Guns which I have just recently fallen in love with.

Well, I've rambled most efficiently. But hey, at least it isn't about pigeons! Long story, don't ask.

Music: Just say you're not in to it - Mayday Parade
Mood: Tired

The stars don't even matter

I have wasted the day. I didn't even go in to uni, I rang her office and there was no answer, so I figured why waste my day sitting around institutional corridors? So instead I wasted it lying around the house reading and thinking and dreaming, in a mellowed out state that rivals intoxication. It doesn't happen very often, it was nice just to float along in it.

Unfortunately it's back to work tomorrow. Reality, as it were. Sigh. And I really do have a lot to do. For one thing, my room needs a serious clean out. I started doing it this morning but soon abandoned it in favour of lying on the living room floor reciting Shakespeare to myself. Like I said, intoxication.

I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offense at my beck than I have thought to put them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us.

Hamlet also talks a lot.

Oh glee! I love this episode of The Simpsons - is it about my cube? Classic.

I've also taken a shine to this today.

I had something else to say but as per usual, it escapes me at the crucial time. I came across some old day to day desk diaries I used to scribble in while at school during my half assed attempt at cleaning...god the drama high school kids concoct to entertain themselves. I can barely remember it all...I can barely recognise myself in it.

I need to go to DFO and Ikea...something needs to be done about the ever growing pile of books and cds stacked around my bed...not to mention the heaps of books under my bed, it's crazy! I looked under there today and was amazed. I look forward to one day having a fantastic library.

Now do I want to watch Pirates? Or Beauty & The Beast? Or V for Vendetta? Or The Crow? Or do I not want to make any decisions at all but pour a glass of wine and sit outside and watch the sun set?

Can't you, can't you feel it, rolling off your lips, tensing up your shoulders

I don't know. The image reminded me of the lyrics. I mean, I don't even like wine...even when I was drinking, I didn't like wine. It is gorgeously breezy outside though, a bit too windy to be perfect - the kind that would annoy you if you happened to be walking along the beach - but close all the same

Hmm. Not really focussing today, as if that isn't blatantly obvious. Oh look, shiny!

Music: Black & Gold - Sam Sparro
Mood: Relaxed

In a restless world, like this is

I'm so sickeningly content right now, it required a post. If I relax any more I will slide off the chair into a useless puddle. A cool breeze, moonlight, coffee, chocolate...perfection.

When I give my heart it will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart
And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I'll fall in love with you

Music: When I fall in love - Nat King Cole
Mood: Peaceful

Oh the shark has pretty teeth dear

After spending the day wandering about Glebe and Broadway with Lizzie, I remembered that I wanted to get some books of poetry ages ago and never got around to it. Particularly Emily Dickenson and Christina Rosetti. Others that I have already forgotten again. I also want to get Milton's Paradise Lost and Dante's Inferno or should that be The Devine Comedy? I never know, that's why I haven't gotten it it. There is so much I still want to read out there but I always forget, canon stuff that I spend a great deal of time grumbling about but that I still want to read anyway, whether to justify grumbling or not. I also want to read the more philosophical things, Proust and Sartre. Things like Chaucer...and Cervantes. Oh and Hamlet and Macbeth cause I never did too well with the tragedies. I really should make a list...but I can never think of them when I'm not actually looking at them! And I don't know how bookstores feel about me wandering around scribbling down names....

We're going to a indie club on Saturday, they're having a Britpop night. Can't go wrong with that, right? Then again we might just end up home before midnight watching The Lion King...it's not like that hasn't happened before. All the same, we shall try.

Nineteen days till my birthday, seventeen until we leave...is it fourty six till christmas? I don't know, my maths isnt that hot and I can't be bothered really checking, but still...bit of a worry. I am so underpared this year, it'll just have to wait until I get back.

I'm watching far too much NCIS, there seems to be a lot of it on. Abby is so adorable, it never ceases to amaze me. Speaking of television, saw the most bizarre episode of Columbo last night, it was like some sort of hybrid of Starsky & Hutch and Hairspray. I have no idea what the hell was going on, but it preplexed me. What is it with that show anyway? The episodes seem to go for hours, it's completely nuts. I was only watching it because my dad had flipped to TV1 after he had watched The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift despite my objections. The guy in it sounds like Forrest Gump! Not to mention that entire franchise is completely ridiculous. Not only did my dad watch it though, he also provided a running commentary. I think this may have been directed at me as I was sitting at the dining room table with my laptop, but then again, he might just have been talking to himself. Who knows? The mysteries of parents. Although how he can watch these plot deprived action flicks (which I often watch with him, but I am fully aware that it is plot deprived and am watching it for the explosions) and then still comment on how crap my cult movies are, is beyond me. He won't watch Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, because it creeps him out and it was a hell of a struggle to get him to watch The Curse of the Black Pearl. He's far more likely to watch My Best Friend's Wedding with me than any of my faves. So pretty much the only common ground movies we have are Rambo, Speed, Mission Impossible, Die Hard, the James Bond franchise, Iron Man, About a Boy, and Bridget Jones' Diary. I'll say it, it's weird.

Tomorrow it's off to uni again to see if her royal honours supervisor will grace my application with her signature. I must paint such a sorry sight.

Is it sad that my current main packing concern is what book to take with me on this trip? This is always such a big issue for me. I generally take LOTR but it's just so big and it's getting completely tarnished. I think I might just take Romeo & Juliet because I love reading it and it's really thin...and I also have no objection to re-reading it. Still, you'd think I had more pressing concerns...such as the fact I have no water proof footwear. Oh and I really need to get a new pair of black jeans. Sigh.

I'll stop the list making now before it gets completely out of hand.

You'd better lock your doors, and call the law
Because Macheaths back in town

I love this song. I'm in a swing mood, listening to Frank Sinatra with the windows open and being completely chilled out. So many fantastic memories *drifts off*

Music: Mack the Knife - Frank Sinatra
Mood: Good

Burning in a marvelous light

Two hours I spent outside her office yesterday...and she didn't show. I had an amusing time being accosted by my various tutors over the years offering me food and such, while also watching the INSANE amounts of traffic as students ran around trying to hand in their assignments and not knowing where they're going. Their A3 envelopes were a dead give-away. Still that's my Friday wasted, I sent her an email and hopefully she'll be there Monday cause I really, really just want to get this all finished off.

I spent the afternoon writing up Christmas cards cause if I don't do it, it won't get done before we go away. I am the responsible one in this family. Sigh.

What else have I done today? Went grocery shopping. Scored a bargain on a huge pack of craft paper cause the girl charged me twice for a notebook I bought instead of scanning the paper...I only realised when I got home and noticed mum's receipt was remarkably more than mine. Hmmm. I slept late and that made me lazy for most of the day, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I have little to say.

Oh yeah, obviously I didn't work today - the doctor decided it was a waste to open cause no one was booked in. Schwing. Only have to work again Tuesday morning, woohoo!

Tomorrow I am hanging out with Lizzie. Always an awesome propsect...

Music: Going down in style - Oh, hush!
Mood: Content

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives

Soooo, I'm an unofficial uni graduate now. I have to wait until April for the whole graduation ceremony, black robe, fall down the stairs, thing...but I know I've passed everything and so, it is done. Now to be stuck in limbo for a while.

Still, I have to go in to uni today to get my honours application signed by my "potential supervisor" who is not the guy I wanted, but rather the exorcist. Ah I'm mean, but really, I was honestly excited on Monday at the thought of never having to see her again and now look, she's the one I was recommened to ask for supervision and she accepted. Life's funny that way, isn't it? Maybe she's not such a psycho demon bitch as her reputation suggests, after all she did just ignore my existence in Novel Writing...and that's exactly the way I like it. Plus I don't think I need much supervision.

The last class was so anticlimatic, we just sat around and workshopped. As boring as ever. Ally and I didn't want to leave early cause, well, last class! I don't think it'll really sink in until next year...and even then it won't matter to me if I get in to Honours. Ah well, a bunch of people requested I add them on facebook. Good old facebook *rolls eyes*

After work, I totally crashed out last night. I picked up chinese take out on the way home and had dinner with mum while watching Torchwood, then pretty much just went catatonic. It was gooood.

Everyone's been asking what I'm doing to celebrate the end of uni...the same thing we do every night, try to take over the world! I'm the most boring 20 year old...well only for 21 more days, then I'll be the most boring 21 year old! It's all a matter of perspective.

Music: Holiday - Green Day
Mood: Pensive (superficially, but still)

Much incoherent muttering

*squints feebly at screen*
I just woke up and I really didn't want to. Am hoping to quickly finish up my assignment for tomorrow and the damn honours proposal so I can crawl into bed. Only got to bed at 3 this morning...because I am an idiot.

Today was my last screenwriting class, HUZZAH. Not that I have anything against the class, I mean George is super nice and all, but I'm so over the whole screenwriting process in general. Not my thing. He brought in tons of wine and food and such, but you know, ten in the morning and operating on 4 hours sleep, all I wanted to do was nurse my triple shot Venti latte...and oh my god, I bought a chocolate chip muffin and they warmed it up for me so it was all gooey on the inside - PERFECTION. If there is anything better in the morning, I am yet to find it. Well done Starbucks, well done *pats* Anyway, I spent class lamenting the lack of appreciation for 'The Crow' exhibited by my class and flailing at a girl I discovered was into Doctor Who. It took some convincing on my part before she would believe me that Tennant had quit, but when she eventually did, she was not impressed. I am the bringer of doooooom.

After that, I met Lizzie at the movies and we went to see a Gold Class session of RocknRolla. It's the new Guy Ritchie in that typical gangster style of his, and it is brilliant. I absolutely adore it. I wasn't too sure what to expect, but it defintely delivered. Gerard Butler (and his character) is completely fantastic. It helps that neither Vinnie Jones or Jason Statham is in it, so I can differentiate it from 'Snatch' and 'Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels'. I don't know what it is about these movies that appeal to me, but there's defintely something. And really, it was gooooood. The Innuendo Squad approves. I'd definitely watch it again. Also, kick ass soundtrack. That never hurts.



Of course, everyone is currently obsessed with the US election, and being "a witness to history". I am too brain dead to make any sort of intelligent contribution to this topic, and all I can say is that it's going to be exciting to see how things pan out now. Change is so fantastic.

So tomorrow, I have my last undergraduate class. It's over. It's done. I will have a degree to my name. An actual qualification. I am not quite sure where the last three years went, I still don't feel like I've done anything. Ah well. Will think about it when I'm not falling asleep on the keyboard.

Music: Capital G - Nine Inch Nails
Mood: Dead

Forty nine percent of the Hub's down, we left Ianto in tears

My laptop sceen is doing its best strobe light impersonation. I refuse to give up on it though and am hoping it flashes itself out and goes back to normal, rather than its usual fade-to-black behaviour.

Grumble.

Today I found out Mohawk Boy has a girlfriend. And yes, she is blonde. Does she appreciate your view on Christopher Walken, hmmm? Does she have Operation Ivy logos sketched in her notebook? Does she watch the way you pull at your collar and think it's cute? Does she try to change you? Epic. Sigh. There goes another one...that's the problem isn't it, at this age, everyone's already pretty much paired up. It doesn't bother me, until I take interest in one...

Today I have consumed one Triple Shot Venti Latte and two Red Bulls, and only that. How nutritious. Unsurprisingly, I was doing that talking without thinking thing by the end of class. Ally and I were the only people to submit our assignments, but hey, at least now it's done. Besides, if I didn't do it last night, I would still have left it till Sunday night. So really, I shouldn't feel too idiotic after only starting it at 12.30 this morning and only getting to bed at 2, right? Right.

I hate the start of November at work, we have to change all the fees and everything has to be added into the system, redone and printed out again. I had to go through all the patient files adding the new codes. Have next Monday off though, unexpected long weeked! Oh wait, no, I have to work Saturday...

Ugh too tired to focus. My brain is thinking at about the speed of a snail. Someone told me today snails can sleep for three years! How nice would that be. I had an idea on the train for one of those abstract posts I sometimes do, with the random lines and itnrospection, but I didn't write it down and now it's gone beyond recall.

Ah well. Guess other things should be done.

Must...
Write...
Honours...
Proposal...

And for the record, if one more fly gets in my face, I'm going to go the way of The Shining!

Music: The way you make me feel - Michael Jackson
Mood: Exhausted

Dead right I sold out!

I am such a closeted theatre geek.

She was sinking fast, I threw a rope
Now I have suits and she has hope
It seemed an elegant solution
One day this must end, it isn't real
Still I'll enjoy a hearty meal
Before tomorrrow's execution

I was listening to Phantom of the Opera songs on this compilation cd we have and that – Sunset Boulevard – started playing. Major childhood flashback. Major.

Productivity still hovers near the zero mark. To be fair, I only just got my laptop to switch on at 5, so it wasn’t as if I could work. Instead read and ate far too many lollies.

Am not impressed at the funny taste of this chocolate. Add that to the weird tasting coffee and I am fast running out of joys in life.

Music: Sunset Boulevard - Michael Ball
Mood: Working

Together we can upgrade the universe!

Ah Halloween. Best holiday of the year - not because we enjoy copying a tacky American tradition as the media keeps implying, but because you can act like an idiot in public and actually get away with it for a change. In other words, let your fandom run wild and free! However, the weather took the 'Hell' theme a bit too far this year and tried to fry us all alive. So, seeing as we didn't want to spontaneously burst into flame, there went the coat idea. We went out in ties instead *nods* I spent the night having 'character' schizophrenia, unsure of who I was, the Master? Why not. I'm weird. We're weird.

People made even less than an effort than usual this year. Must be the heat.

We made the most of it tho, as always. Lots of blurry photos, random quotage and hysterical laughter ensued. The night also featured concealed weapons, Annoying wait staff, and nearly being run over by the police. It's all good here. We went to Pancakes and were going to see a movie in Gold Class but they were all sold out, and today we didn't fare much better. Instead we settled on watching Torchwood and Star Wars - you'll be malfunctioning within a day, you near-sighted scrap pile! Ah glee.

Didn't sleep much. Sort of jumping between being exhausted and being wide awake now. Usually how these things work, I guess. I would make myself some coffee but I am convinced there is something wrong with the coffee we have even if no one else can taste it - it's just off. It's driving me nuts, cause as we all know, I really love my coffee. Perhaps I should invest in a proper coffee machine. I suspect maybe it's the water...because I made filter coffee earlier and that still tasted a bit weird. If it doesn't watch out I'm going to have to dust off our dodgy espresso machine...

Unsurprisingly, I haven't done any uni work, and two assignments are due Monday. The very picture of studious responsibility, that's me!

Music: Who wants to live forever - Queen
Mood: Sleepy