Friday, February 27, 2009

Vaguely Academic Ramblings

Something must be happening beyond the point where they turn and become mere fragments. But to find out what that is, we should be forced to relinquish this vantage point, so deeply fought for, hardly won.
[From Flow Chart by John Ashbery]

I never thought I’d say this but…exams are probably a good thing. Since I haven’t had any in three years, my recall is shot. I know I’ve studied this stuff before but I can’t recall them off the top of my head because I’ve never actually sat down and memorised it all for exactly that purpose. It’s all a bit in one ear and out the other. But hey, I can still recite Newton’s laws word for word, exactly as I recorded it for my study notes in Year 11. But what I did last semester on poetics? Not so much, no.

POETICS – Greek poiesis [making/creating] – language is used for its aesthetic and evocative qualitities instead of its apparent meaning.

Exams also meant I took way better notes. As opposed to the following stellar example of scholarly thought - “Truman Capote quote on why he doesn’t take notes – something blah blah truly own the idea blah blah.” How very eloquent and concise. And this is a writing class? Sigh. Then I’ve also scribbled stuff like “Does the artist ‘shape’ the idea, or does the idea ‘shape’ the artist? What came first, the poet or the idea? Raises interesting questions re: inspiration, the psyche/subconscious, and how this influences language and art – Heidegger, Husserl w. reference to Celan and Cixious.”

Riiiiight. [Come to think of it, that was my final essay…I got a distinction for that. Huh.]

My notes are further helpfully sprinkled with various song lyrics *shakes head*

Nietzsche! ‘Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.’ I am particularly fond of that…mostly because it applies to my everyday escapades. How often am I looked at as being a bit mad, but I know it’s only because the people don’t “get” it. In the company of those of similar inclination, it’s not mad at all.

Speculative Rousseauism – the form of the modern state must be overcome in order to establish moral society.

Which is all well and good but what exactly does this have to do with poetics?

And of course I have to study Marxism for Cultural Studies. I will never be free of that man! As long as they don’t make me fold paper airplanes with my eyes closed again, that was just ridiculous. [In case you’re wondering, it was meant to illustrate exploitation and the destruction of traditional skills]. Two of the readings also appear to continually make reference to ‘time’ and ‘space’, and the relationship between them. This is greatly detrimental to my concentration since all it makes me want to do is play the class a Doctor Who clip. “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff.” It is relevant. I insist. I’m playing it next week. I don’t care. They already think I’m crazy after I had to stifle a laugh when a guy used “conglomeration” yesterday.

Anyway, I am actually looking for my notes on Aristotle cause if I see the term ‘logos’ one more time, I might hurt something. That is Aristotle, right? Ah yes. Argument from reason. Relates to pathos (persuasion by emotional appeal) and ethos (persuasion by moral competence). And, in case anyone wants more Greek terms – mythos [plot], dianoia [theme], lexis [speech/diction], melos [melody], opsis [spectacle].


Oh I’ve just discovered I am predisposed to a teleological school of thought – “one that holds all things to be designed for or directed toward a final result, that there is an inherent purpose or final cause for all that exists.” Or maybe not. I mean if you ask me “Why do you see?”, I would answer “Because I have eyes.” That’s form following function, isn’t it? So that’s more naturalistic. Teleologists would say “Because I need to.”

I think. I don’t know! All this theory hurts my head.

I realise studying Economics or such is hard, really I do, but at least you know there is a right or a wrong answer. In social sciences it’s all so bloody open ended and all over the place, as soon as you think you have a grasp of one thing, it slips away into something else. I think the key is to find one element that appeals to you and to stick to it, but I’m just not geared that way. It feels so limiting. I want to know everything. It’s more likely than not going to be my undoing.

On a completely different note, I cannot understand why anyone would see Ianto as a Mary Sue. Tropes Wiki have a ramble about it, summarising traits as :

The prototypical Mary Sue is an original female character in a fanfic who obviously serves as an idealized version of the author mainly for the purpose of wish fulfilment. She's exotically beautiful, often having an unusual hair or eye colour, and has a similarly cool and exotic name. She's exceptionally talented in an implausibly wide variety of areas, and may possess skills that are rare or nonexistent in the canon setting. She also lacks any realistic, or at least story-relevant, character flaws — or her "flaws" are obviously meant to be endearing. She has an unusual and dramatic Back Story. The canon protagonists are all overwhelmed with admiration for her beauty, wit, courage and other virtues [...] if anyone doesn't love her, the character who dislikes her will get an extremely unsympathetic portrayal. She has some sort of especially close relationship to the author's favorite canon character — their love interest, illegitimate child, never-before-mentioned sister, etc. Other than that, the canon characters are quickly reduced to awestruck cheerleaders, watching from the sidelines as Mary Sue outstrips them in their areas of expertise and solves problems that have stymied them for the entire series.

I don’t know if it even has a place outside of fanfic, but it has been said and used in context to Mr. Jones, so I’m just taking the opportunity to disagree. And it’s not just because Ianto is a guy that I don’t see him like this. If anyone in Torchwood is a Mary Sue, it’s Gwen. Every stray man and his dog are madly in love with her, and she can do no wrong. Her flaws are definitely meant to be “endearing”. So am I missing something? The only thing Ianto has is a dramatic back story…but they all have dramatic back stories. Except for Gwen, ironically. Actually, most of the people that take this view of him, tend to favour Gwen, which makes me think “if anyone doesn't love her, the character who dislikes her will get an extremely unsympathetic portrayal.” Ahuh. To be honest, I don’t see how this term would work in a canonical setting. It just doesn't seem applicable somewhow.

Aha! This is why I love this site. It really covers everything.

Mary Sue as Protagonist You Don’t Like:
An alarmingly widespread use of the term, and one reason a lot of people feel that the term has lost whatever useful meaning it once had. There are a lot of reasons why this usage is so common. Most obviously, as rants about and mockery of the Mary Sue phenomenon became increasingly well-known in fandom, it became increasingly easy to throw the term around as
Flame Bait. The fact that so many of the other definitions are highly subjective doesn't help. And, finally, this usage is the (il)logical inversion of the counter-Sue defence that a character people like can't be a Mary Sue. People who accuse characters of being Mary Sues rarely admit that this is the definition they're using. The best way to tell is if their justifications for the character's Sue-hood are all based on shoehorning, Alternate Character Interpretation, misrepresenting the sources, and Accentuate The Negative. Describe any non-fanfic character as a Canon Sue, and you'll be lucky if no one accuses you of using this definition of the term.

I’m not nearly nerdy enough to really function in this sphere of life/fandom but that’s why Tropes Wiki is there to help me out.

But yes. Speaking of Gwen, I have a Gwen haircut now. Well, it’s always kinda been the same style, but I’ve gotten my fringe thickened and now it matches hers. Does this mean Jack will now love me too? I just want to steal his wrist strap, that would be dead useful. None of this stupid research necessary…

Which I should probably get back to...what am I up to? Leitmotiv? Sigh.

Music: Rugby commentary in the background somewhere
Mood: Working

Thursday, February 26, 2009

It's the work that we avoid

Uuuuugh. I forgot how much I disliked cultural studies. I mostly focused on the writing subjects in my undergrad degree (I think I did every single one really) so other than some compulsory culture elements, I avoided it as much as I could. Today we had to name theorists we had read and I hit a major mental blank. I have read some. Just off the top of my head, I can't really launch into intelligent discussion about it. However, should you feel the need to discuss narrative structure or techniques, from Gabriel Garcia Marquez to Dickens, or discuss Tolstoy or Chekov, or if you want to draw parallels between Anna Karenina and Wuthering Heights, I'm good for that!

Sigh. I really need to study up on my theory.

I started my "let's read unconventional narratives" drive today, so I'm reading Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo...I actually wanted White Noise but couldn't get hold of it. But whatever, start somewhere.

I watched Army of Ghosts/Doomsday last night. "The may shoot me dead but the moral high ground is mine." That Yvonne Hartman is a bit mad. The looney part of my brain (which is dominant) always enjoys disecting the Torchwood randomness. Like that bit where she's talking about the giant hand clamp things, and she says they found them in a spaceship buried at the base of Mount Snowdon. Which is in Wales. Surely, that's Torchwood Three's responsibility, or jurisdiction, or whatever? I realise One and Three weren't really on the best terms after Jack took over, but even more so, one would think there'd be clear territories so to speak. Just what exactly where Three doing while all this was going on anyway? Since I'm on the topic, what is with the "Great Cobalt Pyramid" being built on "the ruins of the famous Old Earth Torchwood"? Oh yay. A pyramid. Things like that just depress me. You know, really it's best just not to think of these things.

So, moving on.

I'm getting my hair done tomorrow! I'm thinking of a change. Nothing major, mostly to do with the fringe, but still. Something different!

I have over 14,000 songs at my disposal and I could not find a single thing I wanted to listen to during the commute today. In the end I setteld for this playlist called 'Torchwood', although I'm not quite sure I know what I was getting at. It contains the following:
* Words, hands, hearts - Yellowcard
* Just say you're not that into it - Mayday Parade
* Doomsday and the Echo - Lovedrug
* Do you wanna - The Kooks
* Dismantle. Repair - Anberlin
* Don't let me die still wondering - Flogging Molly
* I promise you walls - Shiny Toy Guns
* You must be willing - Against Me!
* Stockholm Syndrome - Muse
* Take Care - A Change Of Pace
* The long way home - The Material
* I don't believe you - The Magnetic Fields
* Goreki - Lamb
* Almost lover - A Fine Frenzy
* La Cienega just smiled - Ryan Adams
* This is for keeps - The Spill Canvas

I don't even know.

No matter how much I try to ramble, I just can't escape how much work I have to do. I really want to get it all out of the way before Sunday so I can hang with Lizzie. I feel like I haven't seen her in ages, and we're going to the Star Wars exhibition so nerding out is unavoidable. So yes, better start reading and researching I guess.

Serious chocolate craving...

P.S. What are U2 doing now? *shakes head*

Music: Takin' care of business - Bachman-Turner Overdrive
Mood: Recumbent

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

And all that jazz

Well. Clearly I am in way over my head with this whole Honours thing. But damn it, I shall prevail! All I need is a pass after all, and surely, surely, I can manage that. Huh. I forsee a lot of head meet desk moments.

So yesterday's class...not quite what I expected. For one thing, we total a whole four students. Such staggering numbers, I know. It also appears that the proposals we submitted last year meant nothing. Which is a bit disconcerting since I was thinking that if it got accepted, then surely I was ok, but no, this is apparantly just another technique for lulling you into a false sense of security. There is enough theory in this to bloody drown in. I have to find examples of the theory we're doing every week to support my interpreation of it. The fact that there are only three other people in the class means I am really going to have to work at it, since there's no way for me to blend into the background like I usually do. Participation is unavoidable. Of course, I have no idea what's going on. I managed to BS my way through yesterday simply by going on about things I'd studied in the past and heard in passing. Abbi's talk of 'Everything is Illuminated' was a total life saver. So now I'm going to have to read a lot of post-modern and experimental novels, not to mention Proust. Oh and Sebald. Sigh.

Today. Oh dear god, today. Started off with a fabulous first impression by being late. I only got out of work at quater to, and the Doc was less than imrpessed with me for that. I don't know what else I can do *shrugs* Anyway, everyone who does Honours is in this class and we had to go around talking about what we're doing and then fall into groups with people of similar inclination. I am the only one doing something wholly creative based. The lecturer made me feel very secure in this by stating it as "worrying." Thanks. You do wonders for my confidence. I am now thinking the entire thing is going to have to be re-worked. The underlying principle will stay the same - same basic story, same characters - but I think I'm going to have to go all post-modern and existential on it to make it fit within the strict word limit while still conveying the issues of narrative form, and the notions of 'truth' and 'identity' within a technology and celeberity obsessed modern society. At the moment I'm thinking of going all out on the disjointed, broken fiction angle throwing in things that really influence the preception of identity within modern culture such as headlines, facebook status', twitter updates, blogs, msn conversations, text messages....all that sort of things. So Phee's point of view is presented in a straight out narrative form that jumps in short bursts, while being continually interrrupted by all these outside influences, juxtaposing who she is, and how she actually interacts with her world, against the perception of her by others. THUS: it's an experiment of narrative structure explored through a girl's struggle for identity within a society that imposes its own conceived notions of who she is upon her. So I guess in a weird way, the actual shape and form of the text itself is a metaphor for the underlying story. Then it all relates back to whether there really is a way to exhibit 'truth' and 'identity' within text and whether the notion of 'identity' or a 'true self' even exists. Can you resolve the person you think you are with the person everyone thinks you are? There is no such thing as a pure truth.

And so forth.

I dont know. I'm just rambling, trying to get it all out. I think that could work though. I'd do my exegsis on the changes and subversions to narrative form, and how it is a means of reflecting the story. The text becomes part of the message. Like that whole concrete poetry deal. I'd also consider how this relate to the notions of 'truth' and 'identity' not only within text itself, but within modern society as a whole. So if I was to sum it up, I guess it would be "everyone knows everyone, but does everyone really know anyone?" Ha. I can talk in circles! Surely this must mean it's academically sound. I've never read anything in this field that has made even the tiniest bit of sense. Look at Heidegger and his bloody "thinging"!

Tomorrow it's off to Cultural Studies, which is always a royal pain. But it's the only thing that vaguely relates to my topic, so I'm stuck with it. Place. Blah. Well I guess I was going to do that scene where Phee goes to visit the site of the plane crash...and she does keep moving around cause she doesn't feel at home anywhere. That's place related...sorta. Not that it matters I suppose. The story is not going to make any sense in any traditional way.

I have so much bloody research and reading and crap to do though. I feel like I'm lightyears behind everyone else.

On the bright side, all this scrambling about trying to make my story fit the newly imposed limits means I can do the full novel version of Soliloquy for my masters instead. Either way, that novel will be written, damn it. Whether in an academic context or when I have some time to myself, it will be done.

Completely random tangent - Martin is insane.

If Ryan from Yellowcard has gone and started a new band, does that mean Yellowcard are no more? That would figure, since they haven't been doing anything. Not that I know of. Well...whatever. I swear, you leave these people alone for two seconds and you have no idea what's going on anymore.

Also, Keaton Ari Danger Lazzara? Really? Billie Joe got there first with the whole 'danger is my middle name thing', ya know.

Now, for no apparant reason, here is Spin magazine's list of proposed rock star benefits from the US stimulus plan. I have a soft spot for Spin since they gave me the wonderful phrase: "The iPhone - the stylish way to grow an iTumor in your iBrain." Proving yet again, for posterity's sake, that I am far too easily amused.

Now I'm going to go avoid reality some more...and not do my copious amounts of work.

Sigh. There is no hope for me.

"I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?"
"I think you can in Europe."

Music: Graceland - Paul Simon
Mood: Frustrated

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

We're fated to pretend

What a day...and it's not even one yet!

Currently camped out on my uni's couches. It may lack in many things, but one thing it's always brought to the party is comfortable couches.

My mother hasn't responded to my email asking if I may purchase a Hugo Boss suit. I wonder why? *sarcastic snort* It's a very nice suit, and it's on sale! The jacket is only $499. I have decided I'm buying a suit. Not that one obviously, but there's a nice Tokito one that's quite cheap, though it doesn't look it. I've spent my morning shopping, if that's not blatantly obvious. Myer most of the time. There are these shoes that I'm in love with. They're tartan! I'll see if I can find a pic when I'm on an actual computer. Roze was trying to convince me to buy them (she came to have a quick look on her way to work). Em for her part was trying to convince me to buy a Hugo Boss trench via text (it was also on sale)...clearly my friends are a terrible influence. I quote; "Come on, us three are the worst at saving!" Sad, but true.

I'm loving all the tartan and military stuff that's in this season. Gorgeous. There's also a verrrry nice leather jacket at Portmans that the sales staff were trying to persuade me into getting. Luckily its quite expensive, otherwise...well, you know me, I'm easily persuaded. In the end I only bought a scarf, purple tartan tights, and a Tokito top for work. Oh and Everything is Illuminated. Glee! Grandfather informs me that this is not possible.

When purchasing the latter at JB, I got distracted by this shop that sells silk ties. Hmmmm silk ties. It compliments the suit fetish *stupid grin*

Workwise, everything has gone to hell. I was thinking how nice it was that I won't have to rush to and from work this semester, and as I had two days off, I could even paint my nails all weird and wonderful colours (currently turqoise). Thanks to the class reshuffling, work has done some reshuffling this morning to try and fit me in, which means I can work Thursday mornings still, but I'll also have to work Tuesday and Wednesday. Suddenly I have no day off anymore! Not only that, but I'll have to tell work I have to leave early Tues & Wed, since I need to be in the city by I'll lose about an hour on each shift. I've decided there's no point running around trying to get changed or such, so I guess from now on it's Corporate Me all the time. Epic. Sigh. Which brings us back to the shopping, I want proper corporate clothes if I'm going to be in them all the time. Thus the need for a suit. Also need a skirt, maybe a dress or two. And shoes! This is by far the most pressing concern.

Oh, I weep for my sanity.

I just realised I look like a total label whore today. Its just Levis this and Jag that, and electronic devices of all description.

Just found out Hype has those Who converse. Must check them out on Sunday...

Twenty minutes till class. Woe. Nearly paralysed with apprehension. Damn you social anxiety!

I hope I don't need books or anything, I can't be bothered with the stuff. I couldn't see anything about readers, but then I could just be blind. Wouldn't be the first time.

Music: Time+To+Pretend - MGMT
Mood: Anxious

Monday, February 23, 2009

I really should be sleeping

I had a feeling this week was going to be difficult. I believe there is even a twitter update to that effect. Yet again life proves hat sometimes you really should just listen to that little voice in the back of your head. You know which one I mean, the glass half empty one.

My uni has royally screwed me over. While on my lunchbreak I got a charming email informing me they have moved my Tuesday morning class to Thursday afternoon. They are "Sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused." Hmm. Inconvenience. Let us ponder this for a second. I have annoyed everyone at work, the other girl was super nice about it and agreed to swap shifts with me so she would work all day Tuesdays (and I'd have to work all day Mondays) so I could attend my two classes. Now, of course, it was all for nothing. As I work Thursday afternoons, this means I now somehow have to get her to swap with me again, messing up her schedule (nevermind mine) again, and if she can't, which is completely understandable seeing how much I've jerked her around thanks to UTS, I'll have to drop the day. This means not only do I get paid less, but I also won't be working three days straight. Which is just wrong ok? How am I meant to know wtf is going on if I'm never actually there? I could have strangled someone when I got that email. It's the complete hopeless situation this dumps me in that annoys me more than anything, since it's not like I can complain to anyone. They won't change it back just because it inconveniences me (even though I'm pretty sure the only reason they changed it in the first place was because it was inconveniencing the lecturer). They'd just laugh and cry "get back in line minion!" Or something along those lines. Of course, this completely blows any plans I had for trips in the next month. It just wouldn't be feasible amongst all this madness. Stupid uni.

Naturally, my laptop is playing hide-and-seek again, so I couldn't even get online tonight. Didn't help the bad mood much. Watched a replay of the Oscars ceremony instead (this poor sucker had to work while it was on live). I have to admit, I quite liked it. It wasn't nearly as boring as I usually found it, and it all seemed really elegant and...intimate. Also, Hugh Jackman. Enough said really. The man is delectable. He can do no wrong! I was drooling shamelessly while watching him do that musical number and realised something. I would kill to see Hugh and John Barrowman in a musical together. I think I might spontaneously combust. Someone remind me to pitch this to Hugh if I see him hanging around Bondi.

Next mission - world domination.

Anyway. I'm still heading into the city early tomorrow. I thought of maybe catching a movie before class but nothing I want to see runs at a good time. Bah. Shopping instead, I suppose. Good old retail therapy. (Yes, because it makes perfect sense to spend when facing a possible future reduction in dispensable income.) Hmm. Tell the rational part of my brain to shut up.


I'm so not looking forward to class...

Music: Raindrops
Mood: Annoyed

Sunday, February 22, 2009


All is well. The marathon passed without incident, and there were appropriate emotional responses where due. I suspect the conversion has been successful. Certainly successful in inspiring serious love for Jack at any rate.

I do not relish the thought of tomorrow. Reality will probably be coming down on me like a ton of bricks this week. I'm bracing myself as best I can.

Glee! The recap blog I read by TheOriginalSpy never fails to amuse me. Latest Numb3rs one is up and contains the following paragraph:

Unfortunately, the Fedcakes and Robin come up against the most dastardly criminal they've ever met. He's managed to stay undead while the slayer was after him. He's managed to get one over, not once, but twice, on Team Torchwood. How could our Fedcakes possibly defeat him where both Buffy, and the Whoniverse failed? Yes, it's is Damian Lake, I mean Spike, I mean Captain John, I mean, Captain Spike.

Okay, so maybe it isn't entirely due to Captain Spike's proclivities as one of Sci-fi's classic bad boys. And if he goes near my fictional Welsh Boyfriend again, he will have to die. Nope, I hate to say it, but the Fedcakes royally screwed the pooch on this one.

It just makes me giggle. She's brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

*contented sigh*

Headache currently attempting to ruin my life, and i am craving some serious zzzz's. Well, stranger things have happened.

Music: Some episode of Friends
Mood: Sleepy

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Om nom nom

Just staggered into the house. Suddenly absolutely ravenous...due to close proximity to stoner, y/n? Either way, devouring lamingtons with religious fevour.

Party was rather enjoyable. Owe apology to all involved for my apprehension regarding the was good, very old school, from the beatles to zep. Can't fault it there. There was also some epic failing at Wii going on. We are way too loud though, we drowned out half the party with our mad nattering. Ah well. All good. Besides, any night that ends in Torchwood watching can't be bad in my book. I sense there will be Words exchanged though if favour continues to fall with gwen past...well, countrycide really. Shall see how we progress.

Lamingtons are proving useless in appeasing monster currently controlling my hunger receptors. Just want to sleeeeeep, why must I be hungry? Oooh watermellon....excellent.

Music: Let's fall in love - Alanis Morrisette
Mood: Hungry

My Chem'd up to the eyeballs

Have given up trying to find “appropriate” outfit. Lace singlet, dark jeans, and military jacket. Lots of eyeliner and hot pink nails. Superglued cowboy boots (no one can tell). Glam rock, and ready to go

I'm going over to R's place first, don't know if I'm meant to be driving us to the actual party or if she's willing to *shrugs* Now just have to stop to buy six pack of red bull.

We’ll do fine.

Music: One of THOSE nights - The Cab
Mood: Sexy (The right shoes are key)

Missing the Alice to my Bella

Work was a nightmare this morning. I have a headache of doom and I want to kill people who talk in riddles. Just tell me what you want, I can't guess. I'm also tired of being yelled at over the phone, thank you very much. I don't care about your he-said-she-said nonsense, I am not made out of referals! Twpsyn! Tell someone who cares.

Why do the things I say always come back to bite me in the ass? Like this whole "let's be more social!" thing. It's wet, I'm tired, I want to be left to my own devices. But no. Smart assed Jen has to go to a party.

Have I mentioned that I hate parties quite a lot? I'm the worst 21 year old ever.

Sigh. I am just not in the mood. Especially seeing as I won't know anyone there, well except maybe four people. I also just realised we're probably going to be listening to hip hop all night.

It's just so much effort, I have to do my nails, and blow dry my hair, and pick an outfit...ah damn it. The weather is not conducive to outfit picking, I absolutely loathe it when it's like this. Which is possibly a major part of my foul mood. It's raining and humid, that tropical sort of weather, which drives me mad. If it's raining, I prefer it to be cold and grey, and if it's humid, I like it to be accompanied with sun. This bizarre mixture of the two is just too much for me. I can't decide whether I want to wear a dress, or skirt and tights, or just stick with the jeans. The most pressing concern is whether I will need a jacket - rain says yes, humidity says no - and this need dictates pretty much all my wardrobe choices. My cowboy boots are disintegrating so I can't wear them, which is completely depressing - I know it's weird but those shoes give me so much confidence. They're my Beckett boots! Paired with the William jeans, all is well in the world! Sigh. AND I can't even wear my black jeans since I still haven't fixed them so - william jeans, red jeans, skinny grey jeans, or just...jeans jeans. BAH. A closet full of clothes and nothing that makes me happy. I'm a spoiled brat.

But I've made the commitment and I shall follow through on it. Besides, usually things you didn't look forward to are the enjoyable things (mostly because it couldn't possibly be worse than you expected, but this is not the time for my pessimism). I know Roze is feeling similarly disaffected so at least I'll have company. It all depends on how good it gets I suppose.

Plans for tomorrow currently involve a Torchwood marathon over at Roze's place. We have a system, she harrasses me about the Whendonverse, and I harrass her about the Whoniverse. Our common ground is Firefly. She's still trying to get me into Buffy which I never really took to while it was on air...which is typical of me and tv shows. It's kind of funny since neither of us were really into sci-fi until I became a Star Wars nerd, a path she shortly followed on. But anyway, I am confident I can get her into Torchwood. If channel ten weren't so retarded with their scheduling, she would have been in on it already. Besides, she's the Queen of innuendo...she'll at least appreciate it for that.

You know, even though I've spent half this post complaining and alluding that I want to do nothing, I don't actually want to do nothing. It's all frustration really. I am so tired of all of this *waves hand in all encompasing sort of way* Real life, you know. It's exhausting and just...uninteresting. Abbi's right, I so totally would run off and join the circus.

Everything has just gotten so...complacent? resigned? I don't know, but whatever it is, I don't like it.

Swear to shake it up if you swear to listen.

Anyway. Better shut up. An outfit won't assemble itself.

Music: I love rock & roll - Joan Jett
Mood: Discontent (I cannot use that word without mentally going "Now is the winter...")

Friday, February 20, 2009

When I watch you

I wanna do you, right where you're standing
Right in the foyer, on this dark day
Right in plain view, oh yeah

Say Anything are probably in the very same state as me at this very moment, and yet I won't be seeing them play. How is this fair? Come back boys, don't be like that!

What is it about certain songs that makes you want to wrap the music around you? Some sort of physical manifestation to wear as a badge or such. Like Stephen Christian's or William Beckett's voice (or Ville Valo's for the matter), or Matt Bellamy's piano playing, or the guitar in 'My Own Cheating Heart'. I want to quote it or wear it or snuggle it. But yet it is completely elusive.


Look at this:
The weekly topic areas and readings will be discussed with a view to developing students' original topics. The focus of this subject will explore different methodologies and fields of study within cultural studies. The focus will be on theories and ideas of place and space, including:
- The Poetics of Space
- Walking in the City
- Neighbourhoods
- Psychogeography
- Heterotopias
- The Country and the City
- The Cinematic City
- Virtual Spaces and Networks
- Writing about Place

I have a bad feeling about this 'walking' and 'city' business Please, not the fucking Flaneur again! Gah. Stupid culture subjects. If virtual spaces and networks have anything to do with interwebz, I shall do my presentation that week and rant about twitter for 15 minutes. It's topical, right, and it's sort of voyeristic. Smack a few theories in, and it'll work. Culture subjects suck my will to live. As do presentations. Oh how I loathe them. Ah well. What can you do? I suppose it could be worse, it could be 'the mythology of the other' again *shudder*

My Honours Writing Workshop consists of three parts:
- Poetry and poetics (Woe. Please, no more Heidegger theory. A thing is a thing in its thinging! What is that! That doesn't even make sense!)
- Literary fiction and non-fiction (Eh, this should be ok. Depending on who leads of course).
- Non-linear writing and hypertext (This is a nightmare to study, it usually it involves a lot of dodgy websites and "postmodernism")
The assignments for this are very clear *cough* and entitiled "Experiment" and "Creative Work in Progress". Right.

I have an hour break between those two classes. I suspect I'll be brain dead by the end of the day.

The other class, Honours Workshop, terrifies me into all sorts of socially akward, insecure knots. For example there are such joyous highlights such as "whole day session of presentation to the class and interested supervisors with critical discussion and feedback" and "workshop sessions with guest academics". Where do I crawl in to die? This ties with the anxiety level of having those read-throughs in Screenwriting last semester (they lied to us, they said there wouldn't be any actors!) I am also apprehensive since, well, it's a workshop and I epically fail at that. I never feel at ease criticising the work of someone I barely know, it's always awkward and difficult. But I guess that's like most things involving me. Tellingly perhaps, I've never found it particularly useful either...except for Screenwriting, where I grudgling admit the read-through was very beneficial in seeing how everything gelled in the damn script and what had to go. Doesn't make it anymore enjoyable though.

Sigh. I'm going to have to get my ass in gear for this. Tertiary education. I want to do it but that doesn't stop me whinging about it.

The following is a valid concern:
Seriously, the emoticon and the paratheses. Ending causality!

Sticking to the images, I love this postsecret. It's got an air of "aww damn it!" I appreciate.


On the family and shift-of-doom front, my father's motorbike is quickly becoming the bane of my existance. Since we only have the Canyonero Antichrist now, I park my car in the garage. Problem is, with the psycho shifts, more and more often I have to move the bike in order to get the car out. That bike is heavy. I just don't understand the physics of keeping it upright. Much like planes have no business staying in the air, this bike has no business standing. I live in fear that it's going to topple over any day now (possibly trapping me underneath it, possibly also crushing my legs) and then I'm going to have to join Witness Protection so my dad can't hunt me down and kill me. It's far too nerve-wrecking an exploit to undertake at 8 in the morning when one is barely awake.

My inner House fangirl had a field day today as I harrassed some hospitals for test results. Scanning over them as they came in, I had to stop myself from rushing into the office, gleefully brandishing the paper, while loudly affirming, "It's not Lupus!" No. It's never Lupus.



Bored now.

Line of the moment : I never tell lies. I interpret reality creatively.

Music: Alive with the glory of love - Say Anything
Mood: Lethargic

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Ianto is civilisation. End of.

I have internet! Better yet, fast internet! I have show tunes! I have hot chocolate! I have just finished a questionable book that had me in stitches and now I ache all over! In short, all is well in the world.

Now I shall ramble about all the amusement of my full internet deprived days (though Jasper did really well, kudos). So be warned, this is the deep breath before the plunge.

Start with the flailing, shall we? [Ha. Start. Who am I kidding? Does it ever end?]

Okay. Simply, okay. Has anyone seen the new 'The Who' inspired Converse?
I am overcome by a wave of severe WANT. When I saw the ad in AP, I turned to my father and earnestly brandished it at him - I must have these chucks. It's imperative to survival of my converse collection that they are acquired. Glragagrhrhrh *grabby hands* I wish I could say it wasn't so lame, but it was. I. Want. Them. They better not be an utter let down in person like those 'Ramones' inspired ones were. That was a disappointment and a half. I hope they come out here, I at least want to stroke them a bit!

Conclusion #1: My addiction to converse is disturbing.

Now, AP magazine. Ah AP. I never know what quite what to do with you. Here's one of their descriptions for some or other band, "post-hardcore, art-metal." Come on guys, what is that? That's not a genre or a descritpion. You're just stringing words together that sound vaguely like something. I kind of feel like Simon Amstell over Noel Fielding - "With a pair of scissors made of glitter?"

But anyway, genre bending aside. I only got it cause Green Day's on the cover *strokes* My mum saw it on the couch and just groaned. So the cycle starts again. I sense I'm going to start buying music magazines again fairly frequently as both Green Day and MCR will be releasing albums, and I can never walk by a cover boasting them. I only really flick through them though. This is the most-anticipated of '09 issue and has an insane shot of Chiodos where Craig is half skeletized. It's quite creepy...creepy cool, of course. There's Cobra Starship looking Cobra Starshippy. Envy On The Coast, which should make Abs happy in the least. Ugh, Paramore *suppresses shudder* Panic. Wait, what? Panic? Panic are releasing another album already? Please, please let it be the hiphop one! Followed swiftly by disco! Come ooooon! It'll be so amusing! Ooooh, Say Anything and TBS, huzzah. Its almost enough to get you excited about the scene again. Bless.

Conclusion #2: There is hope for some excitement yet.

My free time has been divided between movie watching and Doctor Who watching. More of the latter, perhaps unsurprisingly. Chalked up the end of season 1 starting with 'The Empty Child' the other night. That kid still creeps me out. Anyway, poor Oreo was sleeping on the couch next to me and I startled the hell out of her with my involuntary flailing after the re-generation. I just can't help it, it's a natural response. Gaaaaaaah. I'm gonna miss Ten sooooo very much. The extreme levels of GLEE he inspires is just unbelievable.

Conclusion #3: David Tennant is LOVE.

Today I dragged myself out of bed at 7 - I KNOW, the horror - and headed off to uni. Blah. The thought of having to do this again every week from next Tuesday is greatly detrimental to my will to live. But anyway. I got there relatively early and so the bored peer support kids had to stop their party planning for a second and slap a sticker on my student card. Job done. I was highly amused watching the poor first years wandering around looking confused. Lots of indie boys. If there was any chance they were actually going to be in my stupid lectures, I might have been intrigued by the eye-candy. As it is, the only uni-related thing that truly amuses me is the e-mail I got from J. Harkness. I am certain that this will never get old. I seriously grin like a loon every time. I must just still be on his email list cause it was just a chain forward, but I do so hope he's doing honours this year, just so I can keep receiving these little unexpected emails. I wonder if he realises, surely he must. He writes sci-fi! He can't not know.

Conclusion #4: Uni is still the same old, same old, and I am still too easily amused.

Of course, I don't go to uni in the city for no reason. Shopping to be had! Don't think I go for the education. Ridiculous! Oh the winter clothing is out. Boots! Jackets! Love! Just Jeans have some stunning sets, and Sportsgirl has turned into Topshop. They have tights. Proper, variety, crazy tights. I am greatly enthused by this. Sadly, I'm still saving atm so no purchases were made other than the nerdy kind. Got Almost Perfect, American Gods and a soundtrack. I had to walk home from the station but I barely noticed since I dived into the damned Torchwood book pretty much the minute I got it. Picture me, if you will, walking down the street, head in the book, listening to Bloc Party, and nearly getting run over three times. Always classy. The book is just...oh god. I don't even know. I still don't know if it's just wrong or utterly hilarious. I love reading these books. It's complete visceral entertainment, it takes me little time to read and requires nothing of me but to sit back and enjoy. This one though is complete and utter crack fiction. Still, it had me in hysterical fits of laughter 99% of the time. The guy behind me on the train actually moved cause my spasms of supressed laughter must have alarmed him. Even the chapter headings amused me. I am in love with them - 'Ianto is more important than static cling'; 'Gwen and Ianto get a shopping montage'; 'Mozart is sponsored by Cholestria'; 'Captain Jack has killed the wabbit, killed the wabbit'; or my personal favourite, 'Ianto Jones could teach you, but he'd have to charge'. That is just so my high school days, right there in that sentence. God that song drove me mad. I constantly wanted to shoot people who started signing or playing it. Memories!

'What's unique about Jack?' asked Ianto. 'We need something we can track him by.'
'Oh, you can't track smugness,' said Gwen.

I was slightly unimpressed by Ianto's descent into bitchiness and girliness as it neared the end. Come on, you're so much better than that! Not to mention stupid Jack...what are we going to do with that man? Sigh. Oh and hey, the book cameo's Ten's voice! And, and, and, wait for it, it also mentions two characters called Eric and Tristan [chapter heading - 'Eric doesn't feel like dancing, no sir, no dancing today.' Hee]. It made me glee, hardcore. Look at our fictional world crossing over into my fandom! Lookit! Clearly it amused me far, far, faaaar too much.

James Goss, I bow to your greatness.

Conclusion #5: Almost Perfect is crack fiction at it's absolute finest. I am completely torn between being appalled and so amused it hurts. Following this...

Conclusion #6: I'm mad. I am. But at least I know it.

I may have been a little overeager with these Lipton Iced Red Teas. I have had far too many and feel less than well. Blargh. Would it be wise to combat this with actual pure Rooibos? Decisions decision. I was also attacked by polo mints earlier in the evening...I felt like I'd stumbled into The Mighty Boosh. Stranger still, these polo mints actually come from the UK. My dad brought them back with I don't know why. What goes on in that man's mind is an utter mystery. Speaking of, dreaded shifts of doom are going as expected - doomed. You know what's funny, show tunes. They make me grin like a complete fool. It's a sad side effect of my mother's penchant for Andrew Lloyd Webber. It's no wonder I'm so scattered, my dad tried deafening me with AC/DC and Led Zep from an early age while my mother played opera and show tunes. Oh, and country. God forbid. That never took.

Conclusion #7: Life's mad over here. Folie à Famille. We've got something for everyone.

I have made Daddy's Gone my message tone. Yes, after having Jasper for two years, I finally have one. Now pondering a ring tone...which is pointless since I don't get calls. Still, it's the principle, isn't it?

Oh crap. I have Em's boyfriend's 20th birthday on Saturday and I haven't gotten him anything yet. Was supposed to do something with Roze, but time just got away from me. Damn it. Must think of something. And guess what, I still haven't done any work for uni!

Conclusion #8: I never learn. And I've rambled quite enough for one night.

Music: Night and Day - John Barrowman & Kevin Kline
Mood: Giggly

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

I don't walk, I waltz

Internet's dead. I was all keen to see how the new plan was going to do, but the modem had other ideas. So now I have to wait until who knows when for Telstra to supply a new one. All I can say is thank god for Jasper. Without him, internet withdrawal would be so, so severe.

Currently contemplating going out. It's been a while since I've ventured into the city and I want to go check out those boots at Myer (amongst other things), catch a movie maybe. There's also a free Yves Klein Blue gig at Bondi that I might swing by tonight. Definitely also have to make a stop at Harvey Norman to hear about getting new laptop. Roze just got a Mac. Oh, the prettiness! It's really not feasible for me to make the switch, such a shame really.

I watched Marie Antionette yesterday. It's visually quite stunning, but I don't understand how a movie about Marie Antionette, and the French Revolution to a lesser extent, could be so boring. There was such potential! I also watched Pride & Prejudice. There was a brief moment where I was completely confused by this since I couldn't quite understand how I went from od'ing on energy drinks and watching bad action movies, to drinking tea and watching bloody Austen. Is this maturity? Where did it come from? Anyway, I quite enjoyed it actually. Never thought I'd say that.

I only have 5 days of holiday left. Woe. I still haven't done any work, I will apparantly never learn.

Music: It's my own cheating heart that makes me cry - Glasvegas
Mood: Lazy

Monday, February 16, 2009

Good authors too who once knew better words now only use four letter words

Is this going to be another Cole Porter obsession without preliminaries?
Obsessions don't have preliminaries.

I have spread my Doctor Who obsession to mum’s work! To the point where one of the guys referred to someone as a Slitheen and sent my mother into hysterical laughter. Seeeee, my persistence pays off. Mwahaha *tents fingers* Excellent.

On the more sane side of life, I dusted off the Wii fit like I said I would – shock horror – and I am absolutely amazed that I seem only to have gained 0.1kg, and this was just after I’d had breakfast. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been feeling so…blah (ever the eloquent writer) lately but I suppose this has more to do with my lack of physical activity and the steady liquefaction of my muscles, as opposed to actual weight gain. But I did do all that binge eating a few weeks ago…don’t know what’s up with that. Anyway, muscles are aching so I feel optimistic now, there is hope!

The slight air of optimism forced me to pull out my John Frida shampoo this morning. I don’t use it anymore because it’s complete hell on my colour, but I wanted to feel good and that shampoo makes me feel divine. It smells like coffee and chocolate, my favourite things, how can you go wrong? It does however instil a weird drive to eat my hair…but anyway.

I also bought like a gazillion flowers to fuel the bright spark of enthusiasm. They’re all on sale after Valentine's, and sure their life span probably leaves something to be desired, but they’re gorgeous and I love having flowers in the house.

Just got an email from uni (finally!) saying I can get my concession card on Thursday. Since I have to go in, I’m going to check if there are any readers this semester, pick them up early. Might as well get in to it, resigned to my fate as I am.

Oh, I forget to mention yesterday that there was this absolutely adorable emo boy working at the video store. Well, I say adorable cause he was doing that shy, withdrawn thing emo boys do so well and I just wanted to cuddle him like one would a puppy. Anyway, when I pointed this out to my mum, she sort of told me off for putting a label on him. I was flabbergasted, usually the righteous indignation on this subject is my area...and really, if anyone has earned the right to call something emo, it would be me. And I mean come on, if you’re wearing skinny jeans, band shirts, and have long black hair that covers half your face, you know you’re going to get called emo. I hate labels too, but the fact of the matter seems to be that it's unavoidable, and the best you can do is simply not put any value on it other than its existence as a mere superficial feature. Hell, I’ve been called emo a fair few times myself. I’ve made my peace with labels, I’ll use them as I see fit.

Huh. I don’t know why people are making such a huge deal over this Blink reunion. I’m a bit “whatever” about it since they made such a drama over the break up in the first place, acting like a bloody soap opera, and they probably only re-united because they realised they weren’t doing nearly as well with their separate bands than they were together. But I will reserve judgement until we hear some music.

I seem to have apparently somehow managed to get myself roped into dancing classes. That should be something to behold.

Random quotage of the day –
Jerry: What’s going on?
George: Siege mentality, Jerry. They really want me out. They’ve downgraded me to some sort of a bunker. It's like Hitler’s last days here!
Jerry: So, are you going to leave?
George: Oh no! I’m vigilant. They’ll never get me out. I’m like a weed, Jerry.
Jerry: I thought you’re like Hitler in the bunker?
George: I’m a weed in Hitler’s bunker.
Jerry: I’m getting a little uncomfortable with the Hitler stuff here.

Music: Anything Goes - Caroline O'Connor
Mood: Hopeful

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Trouble falls in my home

So I’m sitting here in a vague sleep deprived haze (went to bed at 4.30, up again at 8) in flickering candle light sipping a glass of wine, channelling my inner Mat Devine and thinking I’m really quite difficult. I’m lucky to have the friends I have, they put up with a lot and sometimes I think I don’t thank them nearly enough. I love them all. That said, and in typical me fashion, I actually want nothing to do with anyone right now. I'm so over it all. The melancholy has truly set in today, lack of sleep and overwhelming nostalgia paired with indie music is not that great for peace of mind. I’ve been clearing out some drawers (and still have at least two to go, blah, I have too much crap) and there’s all this stuff from when I was younger. Sometimes I don’t even know how I got to where I am. I’ve been everything to everyone from the punk rocker to the uber chic girly one to the corporate yuppie. It’s just a tiny bit schizophrenic. I’m definitely not the same person I was at 16. Sure, some parts of me are essentially the same, but superficially I can’t even relate to that girl anymore. It feels completely foreign, like something I can’t even really remember. Half my life seems like a dream someone else participated in.

In the cleaning process, I found this letter I wrote to a guy who was one of my best friends in SA. I wrote it at the start of year 12 and it’s one of those letters that's never meant to be sent. It kind of breaks my heart a little. I’m always caught off guard and overwhelmed by how much I just miss him some days. I’d give anything to know if he’s even thought of me, let alone missed me, these past years. It’s strange you know, considering how little I relate to my past, how I still seek this connection.

I also found all these documents and letters I wrote for my ex-friend who was school captain. It grates me to think how much work I did, how good I made her look, and for what? I shouldn’t have bothered. Retrospect…good for nothing really.

Other than that, I'm merely pontificating over short-term future plans. Trips overseas and all that. Roze and a bunch of her friends are considering heading to Scotland for Hogmanay and I’ve been invited along, should it go ahead. It merits serious consideration. I could do a hop from San Fran to New York to the UK. Options are endless really, that’s half the problem. Also wondering if I should do my Masters at UTS or look at other unis. It’s just easier to stick to what I know and I’ve never really had any issues with UTS once I got used to it. I suppose it’s not really traditional tertiary education, but sometimes I feel it seems a lot more hands on. Ah well. We’ll see.

I’ve rented a bunch of DVDs to watch this week since I couldn’t find the one I wanted to buy. It was only $9 for all seven so I feel it’s not a bad deal.

On that note, I’ve got half a bottle of wine still at my disposal and I am going to make the most of this while watching De-Lovely.

My light really is too slight to hold back all my dark.

Phrase of the day: "Are these stalker cookies?"

Music: The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts - Sufjan Stevens
Mood: Gloomy

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Take me down but take it easy

I just printed my subject outlines for the semester. Also noticed that there was a form I should be filling out to get my travel concession. Duh. I'm going to have to pay more attention to uni now that Lizzie isn't there to tell me what's happening in admin. I'm slightly freaked out over what exactly possessed me to do Honours, but you know, fear is good. It's a motivator. Besides, I was freaked out beyond belief first semester last year, and it was my best semester by far. Hopefully this'll go the same way. Of course I'm convinced I'm going to flunk out, but I'm always convinced I'm going to flunk out.

Don't know why I felt the need to check on it now, but whatevs. Not like I have better things to do like, oh I don't know, cultivating half way normal sleep patterns. Who would want such thing?

Cause you keep me coming back for more
And I feel a little better than I did before
If I never see your face again, I don't mind
Cause we've gone much further than I thought we'd get tonight

Music: If I never see your face again - Maroon 5
Mood: Relaxed

We are bound by symmetry

What is it with me and hoodies? I seem unable to wear them without putting the hood up. I just feel comfortable in here, it's like a little cocoon or something. Ah well, it's nice *snuggles*

Anyway. Just got home from Roze's place, we had a great night out. Plans had a slight reshuffle thanks to track work and rain, so I picked her up and we went to Eastgardens...we even squeezed in some brief shopping (Rimmel nail polish was on sale, so I had to get some - in turquoise which match my tights, and this violent pink I normally wouldn't touch, but she convinced me). He's just not that into you proved to be amusing. Really good fun and just so much better than I expected it to be. It had the prefect balance of everything, even if it all ends a bit more sunshine and roses than perhaps feasible. Either way, it made a nice change from the depressing movies I've been watching lately. Afterwards, we spent some time trying to find a restuarant, most were maxed out as is to be expected I suppose, but we eventually found an Italian place. Honestly, I have to give her props for being like a perfect date, she bought me chocolates and let me finish her dessert. We spent ages just sitting there talking, it was very relaxing.

When I took her home eventually, she gave me another set of books. I wish I would stop taking them off her, the pile just keeps growing! I'm going over there on Sunday again and I'll try to have finished some of them by then. Hopefully. Wait, is it this Sunday or the next? Better check...we've made so many plans! There's a few we've been meaning to follow through on for a while - the three of us have all solemnly sworn to actually do the stuff we say we will this year. That said, we should be quite busy these last ten days before we drag ourselves back to uni and not see each other for months. Well ok, it has to happen first, but there is something to be said for positive thought, right? Right.

Speaking of things that have to be done, I have to send my grandparents an email. I've been meaning to do it for months now and never get round to it. I need to get my ass in gear.

On that note, tomorrow I'm dragging out the Wii Fit again. This is ridiculous. I've lost what little muscle definition I had. I feel like a muffin...and not a tasty muffin either. Something must be done!

As for now, I have a book and box of Cherry Liqueur truffles with my name on it. I'm happy with the simple things in life.

Hahaha! My dad is watching Walker: Texas Ranger. Total throwback to vague childhood memories. It made me glee. I felt it required documentation. Now what was I saying about chocolate?

Music: Red Right Ankle - The Decemberists
Mood: Content

Friday, February 13, 2009

I want to see movies of my dreams

Right, new layout should be working properly as long as all the elements stay in their place *narrows eyes at it* And it all came at the low, low cost of my eye-sight. I'm quite happy with it to be honest, it's quite clean cut. Except I suppose it might be an issue for some poor sod with dail-up. I might have gone a bit Ianto with it. What's the good of OCD if it can't stretch to all aspects of my life? And pink for some reason. Not usually one for pink (only own about three pink things), but it just called to me yesterday. So yeah. Although I just realised I have a few 'Something Borrowed' dance sort of makes me cringe – I actually loathe that scene, which is probably why that’s one of my least watched episodes. For some reason it makes my chest ache, and the urge to throw something increases exponentially. But the lighting is gorgeous.

You'll have to excuse me. I've been waxing on about my 'wonderful' achievements all day. I was going to do a blog at work about the awesomeness of me (I know, sleep deprevation and near blindless leads to arrogance, who knew) but never published it. I was just very impressed with myself since we've been so busy the last two days, seeing almost double the patients we should and such, and I still managed to do all the work the others left me, completely clean/vaccuum/sterilize the surgery AND still read Stardust under the desk. Usually things are just stacked up when it's busy cause everyone's running around doing accounts, answering the phone, making photo copies and so on. But today I did all that and everything else. The desk was completely and utterly spotless and organised within an inch of its (nonexistent) life. So I felt a bit of boasting was in order. The job may not be hard, or life fulfilling, and it may bore me to tears 99% of the time, but I am so good at it. As far as filler part-time jobs while studying goes, I count myself very lucky.

See? Everyone look away while I swagger in my misplaced arrogance for a bit.

I clearly live a very exciting life.

I'll attempt to make that statement true tomorrow when I go out for our annual anti-Valentine's event. This year it involves seeing He's just not that into you and dinner. We are one down though since Em's boyfriend has returned and it's their first Valentine's and whatever, so that's understandable. I don't really get the big deal about Valentine's to be honest, it seems like so much effort for such little point. I'd much rather get spontaneous gifts instead of these occassions where it feels like an obligation. I have taken a shine to this random gift receiving as I've been getting presents for the last two weeks as belated christmas/birthday presents, and of course it just feels like I'm getting stuff for no reason. It's fantastic.

In other news, I'm freeeeezing. Far be it for me to complain though, but I can of course at least remark on the weather's completely bizarre behaviour. Last Friday it was sweltering and I was at the beach, today it's 18. I can't get my blanket cause Oreo has decided to, well, nest on it and she gives me this affronted look if I disturb her. Also, it now probably smells faintly like wet I'm sitting here shivering slightly as I am too lazy to get a jacket.

Gallifrey One this weekend. Just once I'd like to go to a proper geekfestconvention of some sort. I expect it's a lot like camp...except, you know, nerdier. It just seems like something to do at least once in your life. Well, for us of the slightly insane disposition anyway.

Ah well. Probably best if I stop this madness before my eyes start bleeding from prolonged screen-exposure (new condition, copyright me).

Music: Car - Brand New [cover]
Mood: Cold

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere

I'm working on a new layout so if things go funny, just bear with me. It's proving tricky since my laptop has gone into petulant emo mode (*shakes fist*) and is crying in the darkness of its screen. Consequently, I am on my mother's computer much to everyone's disgust, including my own as I have none of my images, textures, or brushes; and her photoshop completely fails at life. I'm really into it too, and I hate it when I really want to get on with a project and I have to struggle with the simplest things. Bah. Anywho, should be up in the near just ignore any fits that may be had here. Oh and if you hear loud cursing, that's just me having some sort of battle royale with some or other program, don't worry about it.

In the mean time, epic glee to be had over Rolling Stone Green Day exclusive. Tour, tour, tour, tour! *combusts with anticipation*

Now, anyone want to go see a reflective TARDIS?

I don't even know anymore. Formatting does this to me. I need caffeine! And for people to stop watching this sad excuse of Life on Mars. It's beginning to physically hurt me.

Music: Golden Years - David Bowie
Mood: Creative

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

A hustle here and a hustle there

In the never ending drama that is my dysfunctional family, my father somehow managed to lose his bag on his way home from work last night. Don't ask me how, the logistics of it completely baffle me - the bag slides onto the stand that's mounted on the back of the bike, but hey whatever. Massive tantrum-throwing ensued. He retraced his route and what have you, still no sign of the bag (I might point out that I made dinner last night and thanks to all this prolonged up-and-down bag searching, it was a complete waste of time). It’s a big drama because he had just started this new position and all his clearance permits were in there as was his leather jacket and other motorbike related things (if he wore the damn leather jacket instead of bitching about it the whole time, this would not have been a problem). After listening to the raging and being yelled at a fair few times, I was getting very FED UP with all this. I am very sympathetic to his plight, but he never gave me the time of day when my bag was stolen (I stress, stolen not lost). And it’s not like I didn’t lose things – I lost all my uni work (including an entire chapter of my IWP novel), my sidekick and my iPod (which equates to the same amount as his damn jacket really) – but all he did was yell at me. So I’m sorry if I’m not particularly keen to stand here and have him take out his frustration on me. So this morning continued in much the same way, with him being rude and waking me up fucking early even though I only got to sleep at 2 am. Having had quite enough of this, and while listening to him tell his sob story to some poor unsuspecting M5 employee, I actually tracked down his bag for him.

I hacked into CCTV to see where he actually lost it and used his mobile gps to triangulate its current position…um yeah, what do I look like, Toshiko Sato? Instead, in a case of persistance is key, I rang his mobile...and someone picked up. Bag collected. Done and done. Still, I take full credit for it. Honestly though, what are the chances? My dad has the best damn luck. I'm STILL waiting for someone to track down my bag.

Of course now he’s all happy again and I just want to throw a shoe at him. He just had the nerve to tell me not to be so “moody”. Five minutes ago he was yelling at me, for something that is completely and utterly due to his own stupidity. Now suddenly I'm supposed to jump for joy...without so much as a thank you, I might add. Ha good luck. I can brood like it's nobody's business.

Bloody parents.

Music: Walk on the wild side - Lou Reed
Mood: Aggravated

The red ones make me fly, and the blue ones let me fall

I’ve been worrying my bottom lip lately and now (unsurprisingly) it’s sore. I like that phrase, though I find it a bit weird - worrying. It’s not really something you’d use in everyday conversation. Kind of like maudlin. I never used to see that very often, yet lately I’ve come across it all over the show. I find that very peculiar about language, the trends and apparently whimsical comings-and-goings of phrases.

Spent the entire morning in bed. It’s overcast, windy, and a little chilly, so all I wanted to do was snuggle deeeeep into my blankets. Eventually had to concede defeat and find food, but far be it for me strain myself - I camped out on the couch to watch Life on Mars. I don’t know if it is actually meant to be as funny as I find it or whether I’m just deranged. Either way, I enjoy it. Although Sam Tyler clearly never read this brochure (continues here, here, and here). And he is such a fanboy. It’s adorable. I may possibly be a little in love with him.

I know, I know. Another one.

Anyway, am going out so I’ve actually gotten dressed. Just have to make dinner now and then set to go.

See what I mean about the nocturnal thing though? Who only starts “getting ready for the day” at 4.30? It’s completely impractical!

Music: Headfirst for Halos - My Chemical Romance
Mood: Mellow

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Double postage

This is a facebook meme that's been doing the rounds but I've decided to copy Abs and post it here too. This is my home after all *rolls eyes*

[Tagging is obviously not relevant here]

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. I am an only child, so I can be completely self-involved and overdramatic at times.

2. I am known to act rashly on complete whims of fancy. It causes me to flap about on all manner of ill-advised fangirlish endeavours which more often than not raises questions regarding my sanity.

3. I am a slave to technology. I go through severe internet withdrawal and am very unhappy if I do not have a keyboard to bash at regularly. It’s cathartic. I’m also never far away from my sidekick (Jasper) or my iPod (Beckettoo).

4. Sometimes writing is the only thing that makes sense to me, I find reality to be quite disappointing most of the time.

5. I have obsessive compulsive tendencies (ties in with 2). When not pouring my energy into books, movies, or bands of dubious quality, I can be found happily residing in the Whoniverse as a proud member of the Innuendo Squad.

6. I am a perfectionist, which leads to quite a bit of stress and anxiety on my part. This has also resulted in the terrible habit of giving up on things I don’t take to straight away, as well as a frightening amount of folders on my laptop.

7. I am fairly certain I can eat my own body weight in chocolate. I would be more than happy to try anyway.

8. The phrase ”hopelessly addicted to caffeine” is definitely worth a mention. I walk two blocks in the opposite direction I am meant to be going in to buy quadruple shot Starbucks Venti Lattes purely for the size.

9. I am quite introverted. I struggle when meeting new people, and find awkward conversations to be the worst.thing.ever. However, if you do not take my anti-social aloofness as an insult (which it’s not, I promise, I just fail at this social business), I turn out ok.

10. I love travelling and I love flying. I have no issues with spending ridiculous amounts of hours on planes.

11. I think I have spent half my life at airports, waiting. I wish there was a way to actually calculate this.

12. I have trouble sleeping. Whether this is actual insomnia or just me telling myself that I’m wasting so much time by sleeping away the best part of the day, I don’t know. I wish I could actually be nocturnal. I only really feel awake after 4 in the afternoon and usually only get work done after 11. I’m also prone to sitting in the driveway in the middle of the night, just staring at the sky. It’s sad, I know.

13. I love going to gigs. I love the way you can’t think or focus on anything but the music, and how the bass line throbs through the floor and into your bones.

14. I love the rush of sharing a moment with a bunch of strangers. Whether its at a gig or attending a release of something, it’s a weird sort of thrill to feel connected to so many different people because you are all being crazy over something at the same time.

15. English is not my first language. I have a thing about languages though and really wish I could get around to learning some more.

16. I am a complete nerd. I have embraced it.

17. I have always had this weird feeling of outliving myself, which is probably why I have this fear of getting old. It’s depressing.

18. I am claustrophobic. Extremely claustrophobic. I also have apiphobia, which means I’m scared of bees. So I really don’t care if the bees are disappearing, and it makes perfect sense to me that the damn things are aliens [It’s a Doctor Who reference, ignore it].

19. I could very easily become a hermit. I love spending time on my own and happily retreat into my own little world. When I want to be left alone, and I’m disturbed, I will bite your head off.

20. With that in mind, I can be quite moody.

21. It takes me forever to let people into my life properly. I suspect I have trust issues.

22. I have a love/hate relationship with nature. While I love it in theory, I do not particularly relish any form of camping that requires me to “go into nature” if that somehow means to “go where there is no cell reception”. What is this, the time of Charlemange?

23. I hate talking on the phone. It’s not unusual for me to send over four hundred text messages in a month and only make one call.

24. I love doing research and just knowing things. Correspendingly, I am petrified of missing or forgetting things. This is probably why my desk is covered with post-it notes, notebooks and general scraps of paper…and why I have this tendency to ramble (as these answers clearly show).

25. Procrastinate! Procrastinate! Procrastinate! I often spend hours doing anything other than what I should be, like an essay for example. At some point I will realise that it’s past midnight and the essay is due in that day. I then get it done in the next two hours and spend a good few minutes berating myself for not just having gotten it over and done with from the start. Yet the cycle is doomed to repeat itself constantly. “Seven hours later, I still hand’t written a thing but I did win 70 out of 245 games of Spider Solitaire.”

C'est tout.

[[Sigh. I am unimpressed that Whoniverse Tuesday (spanning across ABC and UKTV all night) has been interrupted by my father and his infernal cricket watching. Luckily, I have finally actually gotten Who season 1 and 2 so I think I shall just have my own damn Whoniverse night...although Torchwood is on right now, 'Sleeper' *bounces* I dont know why I feel compelled to watch it when it's on tv when I have the damned dvds and have seen these episodes a bazillion times anyway. 'Sleeper' really is quite brilliant though - explosions, snarky Ianto, what more could you want from life....bah, no. Must resist! I have a life outside of this, I swears it, swears it on the precious...see, my inner Lord of the Rings fangirl is still always at the ready. Ok ok. I'll go find something healthy to do.]]

Music: Your protector - Fleet Foxes
Mood: Satisfied

All my friends were vampires

It gets more depressing by the day. Meanwhile, the opposite side of the country are having floods. How’s that for irony. [c]

In a valiant attempt to avoid the news, which in general does nothing for feelings of well-being and faith in human nature, watch as I ramble endlessly.

I always find it amusing when the criminals on shows are South African…like right now on Law & Order (Criminal Intent).

I’m really going 'indie kid' over here. It’s slightly disturbing. I’m not nearly unaffected and cool enough to be an indie kid. But I suppose it figures, after all, too old to be emo.

My dad starts his horrific new shifts of DOOM tomorrow. It does not bode well as he has already been annoying the living hell out of me today. Must...kill...Moe....weeee! Wish there was some way to avoid getting annoyed, but I am what I am and he is what he is - we are predisposed to getting on each others nerves.

Speaking of scedules, I’ve finally gotten mine together – I’ll be working all day Monday, uni all day Tuesday, three hour class on Wednesday and the rest is free for aimless city wandering, work Thursday afternoon, and work Friday morning.

Also made the decision that if I have enough money in my bank account the week in question, I shall be skipping over to the UK the 11th till 17th of March to see Abs, get some quality script writing done, exorcise my demons, and indulge my fandom while I’m there. There’s no real need for extensive planning, so see how we go. Oh and I suppose it also depends on whether uni needs me that week for anything important, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.

Ah uni *shakes head* One would think I would have gotten some form of information from them, but in typical UTS fashion, they assume I will just guess whatever is going on. We haven’t even received any information about graduation, let alone my re-enrollment. Sometimes, I just don’t know what to do with the place.

I just read the fine print of my lease on my laptop. It appears I don’t actually get to keep it once I reach the end of my term. I can however exchange it any time within the last three months of said term. Which, if I’m not mistaken, means I can trade it in now. Huzzah. Provided it works when they take it back *shifty eyes* I’m thinking of maybe getting a Sony Vaio (for the colour, yes I’m shallow) . I don’t know. Hm. Maybe I’ll go check it out tomorrow. Why suffer needlessly?

Gaaah. ARG’s do my head in *ties rock to it and throws in harbour, backs away slowly*

Time to change something or other around here, methinks. I still can’t get my html to work for that diary type layout I made ages ago. Epic sigh, feeble brain. Epic. Sigh.

As a final note – Ianto is far too cute for his own damn good. Have a random pic...end it the way it started, only on a slightly cheerier note.


I like my rock loud, my jazz moody, and my musical theatre decidedly cheesy.

Music: Devil Town - Bright Eyes
Mood: Working

I've figured out every hour in every day, except tonight [completed]

Prompt: There wasn't really one. Just Amped bringing its drama.
Characters: Kiley Marshall, Phoebe Marshall, Chris Fraser, Harrison Blake, Tyler Wilcox, Eric Hayes, Tristan Emery (Amped)
Timeline: Start of Season 2.
Word count: 4, 162 (Total). This part, 2, 238.
Author’s comments: The second, and final part, of what I posted last night. I wasn't really going to do this much on it, I was daunted by the whole epic conversation re: backstory and didn't want to go into it (epically draining), but I pushed on anyway. Probably would have been wise to quit while I was ahead, but whatever.


The crowd was slowly dispersing, the effects of drunkenness floating up to her perch on the stairs. The night was in its final death throes and Kill shivered as the cool breeze wrapped around her. She couldn’t find the energy to care enough to go back inside though. It was that very same feeling that stopped her from turning around when she heard the door open behind her.
“I don’t want to talk Pheebs,” she muttered, assuming it was her sister, wanting to attempt another heart to heart. She’d been doing that an awful lot lately.
“That’s ok. I just need you to listen really.”
Kill stiffened at the voice and turned around to watch Tristan cross the small distance between them before settling next to her with a slight huff.
“We’ve never actually met.” he said, angling towards her.
“No we haven’t,” she replied, holding out her hand, “Kill.”
“Tristan,” he smiled, taking it, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All scandalous lies, I promise.”
Kill couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t be so quick to write it off, if I was you. Overall, it’s been good stuff.”
Tristan chuckled “Well, I do try.”
Kill looked out into the night, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. After a few moments, he broke the silence.
“There’s nothing between us, you know. Not for a long time.”
Kill kept her gaze firmly ahead, barely daring to breathe. He sighed and continued.
“Sometimes I don’t think there was anything there at all and that I just wanted there to be. Saw what I wanted, you know? I’m not used to not being wanted.” He chuckled softly under his breath, and then turned to face her. She could feel his gaze burning into her cheek. “He wants you though.”
Kill snorted and met his gaze. “Please. He doesn’t know what he wants.”
“I think he does. He just doesn’t know how to admit it, even to himself.”
Kill sighed, dropping her eyes to her hands. In all the various situations she might have envisioned for herself, this definitely wasn’t one of them. Sitting on a deserted step in the middle of the night with Tristan Emery discussing the object of both of their affections. Hell, what were the odds. Still, something about the dancer made her feel completely at ease, completely open. He’d understand after all.
“Sometimes...” she began hesitantly, “Sometimes he looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him sane. Then other times it’s like he can’t stand it, as if my just being there actually hurts him.”
“He looks right through me,” Tristan said softly.
Kill looked at him. “He does like you though, you know that right? I mean he always said he enjoyed hanging out with you –”
“Oh I know,” Tristan interrupted, waving his hand, “And I don’t blame him for any of it. It’s mostly my own doing. One of the things to understand about Eric is that he has a lot of skeletons in the closet, and that’s where he likes it. There’s so much more going on with him than I really understand and he just doesn’t like me enough to try to get over whatever it is that’s holding him back.”
“You aren’t alone there.”
“He hasn’t been the same since he’s been back,” he said shrewdly. When Kill didn’t reply, he continued. “He’s been way more self-destructive than usual. He missed the band, he missed you. He’s been beating himself up over it.”
“We aren’t the ones who left him. He wanted to come back.”
“I think he feels obligated to finish what he started here, but he hasn’t been happy.”
“He’s never happy.”
“He is when he talks about you lot.”
She sighed and looked up at him, searching his face. “What exactly do you want from me Tristan?” she finally asked.
He looked away, taking a deep breath as if weighing his answer.
“Give him a chance.” he said quietly, meeting her gaze again.
“What if he doesn’t want it?”
“He wants it.”
“I wish he’d just talk to me.”
“He’s a lot of work.”
Kill flashed him a small smile, before looking away again. “I wish he’d trust me.”
“He doesn’t know how.”
“That’s a bit presumptuous,” Kill replied, doubtfully.
“Hey, I’ve watched him. He hides away everything that means anything to him. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get anything personal out of him. I mean hell, did you know he had a sister?”
“Yeah.” Seeing his look, she explained almost apologetically. “I overheard him on the phone.”
“See? It’s all skeletons in closets with him. It’s like he doesn’t even trust himself, let alone anyone else.”
Kill thought about this for a few seconds before turning to Tristan again. “You know what Tristan, the rumours are true,” He looked at her confused. “You are more than a pretty face.”
Tristan laughed, squeezed her arm and got up. “I can see why he likes you.” He looked down at her, sobering slightly. “Don’t give up on him.”
She gave him a brief smile and after searching her face, he nodded once and headed back inside.
Kill allowed the stillness of the night to settle around her, barely registering the faint thrum of music and laughter that floated along on the breeze. She sighed and rested her head against the wall.
“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” she murmured into the night, allowing it to secret away what she wouldn’t even admit to herself the last few months.


Eric was angry – angry for losing control of himself like that; for thinking she’d still want him; for wanting her to still want him. This was better after all. She was better off without him around to bring her down too. He was better off not having anyone who actually gave a fuck about him, which made it so much easier not to give a fuck about anyone else. He was so wound up he nearly threw a punch at Tyler when he came through the door.
“Whoa there man, I come in peace,” Tyler quipped, throwing up his hands and flicking his head trying to get his hair out of his eyes.
Eric merely glowered at him and continued to pace along the small confines of the room he had, well, fled into. Tyler watched him thoughtfully for a few moments before speaking.
“I saw Kill. She seems almost as upset as you.”
“Just leave me alone Tyler,” he forced out between clenched teeth, his fists clenching and unclenching on their own accord.
“Bad things happen when you’re on your own.”
Eric threw him a look that would have sent a lesser person ducking for cover. Tyler merely looked back at him serenely.
“You have to allow yourself to love Eric. It’s a key part of the human experience.”
Eric’s eyes flashed and Tyler actually took a step back. “You did not just fucking say that to me!” Eric was vaguely aware that he was shaking. He was also vaguely aware that he shouldn’t be getting into this with Tyler. It was Tyler for fuck’s sake. The haze that had settled over his mind made it hard to act on any of this though. All he could react on was the hurt, the humiliation and the anger, so much closer to the surface than it had been in years.
“What gives you the fucking right to stand around offering advice on the fucking human condition?” Eric hissed, taking a step closer to Tyler, “You don’t know a single fucking thing about me. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up and find the love of your fucking life dead! You don’t know what it’s like to watch your world fall to pieces around you just when you had finally dared to think it might actually be worth something! You don’t know what it’s like to lose your family, to lose everything! And to know it’s your own fucking fault! So don’t stand there telling me love is part of the fucking human condition! I KNOW what it is to love!”
Tyler stared back at him, his own eyes wide as he tried to process the words.
“Eric, I…” he paused and looked at him concerned, “What happened?”
Eric stared back at him, feeling utterly defeated. His lungs didn’t seem to want to take in any air, and his heart didn’t seem to want to keep pumping. He turned away from Tyler, running a hand across his face.
“His name was Anthony, and we were seventeen…”


Tyler sat next to Eric, not actually touching, but close enough so Eric knew he was there. He didn’t know how long they had been there, but it felt like the world had shifted in that time. Tyler always thought he was very in-tune to people’s emotions, and a lot of things about Eric made a hell of a lot more sense now.
“I destroy what I love,” Eric said quietly, his voice rough from emotion and the raging he’d done, “She’s better off without me.”
Tyler shook his head, shifting slightly on the hard floor. He wasn’t used to sitting still like this. “Don’t you think that’s up to her? You can’t decide something like that for her.”
“I…she…haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?”
“Of course I have. It’s cause and effect. You’re mad because she makes you want to get better and you hate yourself for it. But you shouldn’t really. And you really shouldn’t write this off under the guise of it being for her own good. She deserves better than that. You owe it to yourself to do better than that.”
Eric merely shrugged. Tyler watched him carefully. Eric wanted this, but he had no fight left in him.
“It’s ok to love her. He’d be happy. He wouldn’t want you to be alone forever. He’d want someone to take care of you for him.”
Eric rested his head in his hands, and Tyler finally reached out and touched him, tentatively resting his hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to forget him” Eric mumbled, barely audible.
“You never will.”
Eric too a shaky breath, and lifted his head. “What is it with you, Tyler? Why do you know everyone’s secrets?”
“Poison” Tyler replied shrugging. Eric looked confused so he continued, “You know, you have to suck the poison from the wound? My dad always said people where the same and that sometimes they needed someone to draw it out for them.”
Eric blinked once before leaning his head back against the wall. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said.”
Tyler shrugged and got up, figuring that if Eric could make quips, he was ready to have some time on his own.


Phoebe could not find her sister anywhere. She had been searching everywhere since Eric’s impromptu stage invasion, figuring that it would lead to all sorts of trouble. She was getting kind of worried, cause when Kill pulled a disappearing act it was hardly ever a good sign.
“Tyler!” she called, spotting him coming through the stage door, “Have you seen Kill?”
He nodded, and threw a thumb over his shoulder. “I was just talking to her outside.”
Phoebe moved towards the exit but Tyler grabbed her arm. “Uh I think she wants some time alone, Boss.”
“Tyler, I’m her sister.” she replied as if that explained everything, levelling him with a withering stare at the same time.
“But it’s about her and Eric, we’ve finally figured something out.”
“You know something, don’t you?” Phoebe asked, narrowing her eyes.
He smiled serenely back at her. She looked at him shrewdly for a moment.
“You sure she doesn’t need me?” she asked and when Tyler nodded his affirmation, she shrugged, “Okay, but I’m holding you responsible.”


Kill knocked on Eric’s door, her mind still reeling from what Tyler had told her. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, chewing on her thumb nail as she waited. After what felt like an eternity, Eric opened the door and she looked at him, really looked at him, taking in his gaunt frame, messy hair, drawn face and bloodshot eyes.
“Kill, I…” he began surprised, eyes searching his face. She simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. His own immediately settled around her, words dying on his lips.
“You should have told me,” she murmured into his chest. He stiffened but she held on tightly. “I’m so sorry Eric. I’m so, so sorry.”
“So am I,” he replied, hugging her closer.
She was surprised to find she was crying. Eric pulled back to look down at her, cupping her cheek. She dragged in a breath like it was the last she’d ever have. He closed the door and pulled her over to his bed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her firm against him as she clung to him in turn. After a few moments, when her breathing returned to normal, she looked up at him, meeting his red-rimmed eyes. “Tell me about him?” she asked softly, hesitantly.
Eric kissed her hair and pulled her close again. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and settled in, listening to dawn as they helped each other chase the dark away.

Music: The Long Way Home - The Material
Mood: Geeky