Because reading is love

On Twitter right now there's a discussion going about YA fiction in response to this ridiculously agitating article from the Wall Street Journal. Check out the #YASaves tag for the whole deal.

I joined in easily enough because YA lit, and reading, gave me something to hold on to when I needed it the most – as reading continues to do to this very day. But this got me thinking. This year marks our tenth anniversary of arriving in Australia. On the 30th of October, it will have been exactly ten years since I first set foot on Sydney soil (and I was promptly harassed by flies…a true Australian welcome.) I have no problem admitting that I had an incredibly hard time. Really, I fell apart. I completely lost any sense of myself, and generally speaking I have very little recollection of anything that happened that first year.

Turning 14, becoming a full-fledged teenager, is hard enough in itself, but to loose everything you’d ever known at the same time…well, it’s devastating. I was depressed, properly depth of darkness depressed. I would stay in bed until mum forced me out, and I would barely eat or speak. Then my dad bought me a book to cheer me up and suddenly there was a light at the end of the tunnel again. If you'll forgive the cliche. I didn’t really buy books before we moved here (big library supporter), but after that first one, it became a cascade. I read books faster than my parents could have them ordered in for me, and now instead of sleeping all the time, I was reading. And sure, I was still spending 99% of my time holed up in my room, but I didn’t feel so utterly miserable and alone anymore. I had always loved books, but that year it became something else. It became intrinsically part of who I was.

And that’s the thing, you know. When you’re a teenager, you’re always trying to figure yourself out somehow, trying to make sense of the world. And in a way, you’re making yourself up as you go along. Some people complain that YA lit is too dark, but I don’t think they remember what it’s like to be a teen – being a teen is dark from a teens pov. To quote Andy Greenwald – as long as there are teenagers, there will be emo. Teens want something that makes them feel part of something bigger, something that gets it and doesn’t judge. And these days it’s not just about the books themselves, but about the community created around that. If it’s dark, so what, life is dark. Trust kids, teens, everyone, to know what they want. Censoring doesn't help anyone.

But to get back to my main point – I was entirely unmade when I moved here. I think back to the time before that now and I can’t remember what it felt like to be me, who I was, what I wanted. It’s like watching a recording of some other person’s life. I still wonder, ten years on, what I might have been like had we never moved. It’s just so impossible to imagine. Life strikes me as a series of dominoes, one things leads to another, and would I have discovered somethings if certain dominoes hadn’t toppled? Would I even recognise myself? Would I even like myself? Truth be told, I can’t imagine being happy.

And I don’t regret any of it for a moment. I love Sydney, I love living here, I love my friends, my life, the people I’ve met and the things I’ve done. Knowing how hard it was, how it nearly destroyed me, I’d still do it again – because I know how it turns out, and it’s worth it. Books were the first building block to getting where I am now though. It’s the foundation upon which everything I am is built, followed closely by music. If I didn’t have those things, I never would have made it this far. And those are still the things I trust in today because I know they can get me through anything.

Music: Your Protector - Fleet Foxes

Shaking through my skull

I’ve got a huge backlog of blogs that I want to do. Random thoughts on things, the standard. Sadly they must all wait until I actually manage to find time to sit down at my laptop and not get distracted by other things.

Until then, we shall continue with spur of the moment work blogs. I think I may have been too harsh on Jared Leto and maybe I should give him a second chance…I mean, surely someone who is friends with my darling Mat Devine (and Amanda Palmer? I think?) can’t be all bad. Right? It’s not like I actually know the guy, so being annoyed by him is a bit silly really, isn’t it? Look, I just need to reconcile the fact that I can be so obsessed with someone I find rather annoying. I’m appalled too, don’t worry, I never knew I had such shallowness in me. Live and learn.

Can’t really blame me though, can you? He’s even pretty in black and white
and you can’t even see how blue his eyes are. It’s so fucking unfair.

And he's 16 years older than me. Hang on, that means he’s turning 40 this year. Holy mother of Frodo. Also, I need to clarify that it’s not the first time I’ve been taken by his prettiness, this is more…a relapse. Last time it involved sitting through a lot of 30STM videos, and I promptly stopped doing that after the gig. But whatever. Props to Jared all the same, I did copy his hair after all.

Moving on.

After work last night I went to our council’s main library for the first time since moving to the area. I was pleasantly surprised – it was super organised, had friendly staff and actually had a good library vibe. It brought on a case of library reminiscing.

Truth is, I don’t go to the library a lot. These days I tend to just buy what I need, or find it online if I must (for uni, usually), and the only reason I went last night was because I can’t actually afford to buy books at the moment. The most significant amount of time I've spent in the library in recent memory was when I did honours, and that was hours spent in the State researching – a habit I’m glad I picked up as I still like to do that, I’m much more productive there than anywhere else. But an actual local library?  Haven’t used one in years.

When I was younger I practically lived at the library. I exhausted the local one near our house by the age of nine, and we had to go to the municipal one instead. This was pretty much a steady aspect of my life until we moved here. Of course, I wanted to keep borrowing books, but visiting our local library left me completely deflated. It sucked. End of. So I formed the opinion that Australian libraries were clearly deficient and started buying stuff instead. At the time I didn’t really understand how the system worked here and I was feeling too sorry for myself to bother figuring it out. Anyway, once I started buying books (and borrowing from R), I never really looked back.

Until now. Because I have all of $6 to my name, a car that needs a new exhaust, a speeding ticket to pay (no, it’s still the same one, I’m leaving it till the last minute), bills, and a year long adventure to save for. So books, though they are the very foundation of my soul, have become a bit of a luxury item. Temporarily.

I was actually a bit offended that the librarian wanted to teach me how to use the library, and then told me I could only borrow three books because I’m a new member. Like I haven’t ever used one before! Don’t they know who I am? Delusions of grandeur, I have them. Anyway, I was reading one last night and I completely forgot the peculiarities of reading a library book. Like finding random things in them. Or the way they are sometimes so old and well-read, it’s like reading some ancient manuscript. Or the date stamps in the front. Remember when they still used to stamp books? That takes me back. The one I’ve got now was first taken out in 1982, although they might have replaced the paper before that – there’s clear glue evidence on the title page to suggest this.

Long story short, I’ve borrowed my three books, and I’m speeding through them so I can return them on Saturday and get the remaining 11 that was on my list. I'm beginning to suspect I'm a bit of a book hog. According to Twitter, eveyone is encouraged to support their local libraries on February 5, so I figured what the hell, it works out well. As it turns out, book depositories face a real risk of extinction (ironically, the book depository no doubt has a hand in that) and I guess people don’t realise that they still serve a purpose. Even though I haven’t visited mine very often in recent years, I would hate to think that there would ever be a time without libraries. I don’t know what my 9 year old self would have done without them, and even though the internet can find anything you want, nothing really compares to that feeling you get when browsing a collection of books. As they say on the Simpsons, won’t somebody please think of the children!?

On another note, have I mentioned how much I love Twitter? On one hand, I find it a bit creepy when I complain about a service provider on there and said service provider tweets me back, but then they usually offer such excellent customer service, it sort of outweighs the creepiness. I've gotten more queries sorted through twitter, quickly and smoothly, than I ever have by actually calling them. Welcome to the future, I guess.

Music: Blinding – Florence & The Machine

Geek Quest 2010

Or how I learned to stop worrying and love the Melbourne Transport System*

* This is a complete lie, but oh well.

I blog to you now from the rapidly fading good-will of a fabulous weekend. I'm going to try something new, what I now dub twitterspersed blogging. Epic Ramble Warning. It will contain far more detail than anyone ever needed or in fact wanted to know, but hey, it's sectioned, and therefore easily navigated! We shall see how it works out.

"At the airport, my home away from home."

I spent Friday in a fairly panicked state until Lizzie arrived, by which point the mini-break became a reality and all worry futile. We had barely been at the airport five minutes when someone had already assumed we'd been drinking. This happens disturbingly often. Waiting passed in a pleasant haze of chatting, coffee, and people watching. The plane was slightly delayed, but we made it up in the flight. I feel the business class staff were greatly perplexed by this for they had no sooner given me a meal than the pilot was announcing our descent. I was not to be deterred and managed to finish both the hideous white wine and scathingly hot cup of coffee they'd given me. Better yet, I had managed to write three hundred words of my abstract. Productive flight is productive! I had a flash of poetic inspiration staring out the window as we banked over Melbourne, but it was fleeting.

"Love the flying, hate the bendy bus into the city."

There truly are few things I enjoy as much as I enjoy flying. I don't know what it is, but something about being on a plane just agrees with me. I was feeling quite chipper when we arrived in Melbourne. This lasted as long as it took to get on the bus into the city, one of those bendy things that jerk, shudder, and other things not conducive to those of us prone to car sickness. We'd managed to get forward facing seats at least which is always a plus. We could not arrive at the depot soon enough, but unfortunately no one had informed us that the hotel transfer shuttle bus only ran until 9.30. Sigh. We briefly entertained catching a train, but as it was dark and deserted, we opted for the easy way out and caught a taxi instead. Onwards!

"The Hilton check-in lady informs us they have boys to do things. Wonder what exactly this encompasses."

After what felt like an age, we finally arrived at the hotel and were promptly shown just how things were going to go as our bags were carried around for us. We tried our very hardest not to gape at the gorgeous lobby complete with ginormous chandelier, and tried not to giggle when the receptionist informed us in a highly suggestive manner that "here we have boys to do things for you." The facial expression of the man on duty with her was just priceless. Definitely frightened. We had a very amusing time taking this saying out of context for the rest of the weekend. I was very enthused by the room and even more enthused by the chance to get some sleep.

"It cannot possibly be seven thirty, it's far too dark...oh wait, it helps when you open the curtains."

When our alarm went off at seven thirty the next morning, we refused to believe it. It was completely dark in the room, it felt more like 4am and I certainly felt like I could do with another three hours sleep. Lizzie, being ever more conscientious than me when it comes to early rising times, was proactive in this getting up business, while the best I could do was stumble to the window with the silent vow in my heart that if it was this damn dark I was going straight back to sleep. I nearly went blind. Turns out, they just have really thick curtains and the sun was shining happily. I stumbled away and grudgingly got dressed.

"Coooffeeeeee! Giver of life."

Our early morning (anything before 9 is early morning for me) stumble around the city just reminded us of Dublin. That is to say, the place is utterly deserted and nothing is open. We found a cafe and had a nice breakfast outside, watching the life seep into the place. After wandering around and brief confusion as to where exactly we were going, we managed to find the tram that would deliver us to Geekdom. We immediately knew we were on the right tram too, because it contained a pokemon, a strawberry, some description of anime characters, and a samurai. It was also stupidly full and only became more so as the trip covered the same distance that lay between the Shire and Mordor.

"Have arrived at Supanova just in time to line up, as per usual."

Three years, and several travel companions later, we arrived at the Royal Showgrounds were all manner of creature was gathered. There was some amusing misdirection on our part as we kept missing the actual ticket area to get our wristbands. Once stickered, we had the joyous privilege of joining an impressively long line into the signing/panel building. Supanova Melbourne is split across two buildings - one that houses the conference room, anime theatre, and signing/photography booths; and the other that hosts the exhibitions. I can't say I like this set-up very much, I feel it detracts somewhat from the vibe you get when everything is shoved into one building and is utterly chaotic. The good type of chaotic, of course. But whatever.

We shuffled onwards, it seemed that practically three-quarters of the long line were also off to see the James Marsters panel. We were seated about halfway and the entire place was packed. All the people with questions were asked to line up on one side and, as the madness begun, Lizzie and I realised we really should have brought that flask we'd been joking about. I think we're actually lucky Lizzie has lived to tell the tale, cause she was virtually dying from mortification on behalf of everyone there. I devised a brilliant drinking game that required you to take a shot every time someone said "I love you" - we'd have been well sozzled long before the panel ended. To his credit, James Marsters is very good at this. He answers every question with an entertaining anecdote, and really makes it worth it. You can tell he's had tons of experience at this. He also clearly takes great joy in flirting with all the girls and causing their minds to evaporate. Allow me to demonstrate: -

Girl: Hello
JM: Hi there gorgeous
Girl: -breathless giggle - silence - silence - um...

I wish I could explain this in a way that would convey it properly, I nearly died from internalising my laughter. Meanwhile, next to me Lizzie was slinking lower from shared embarrassment. We deal with things in different ways. But yes, James seemed completely unflappable. I actually think there is something kind of tragic in these cons, the fact that here you have a man answering questions about something that happened nearly ten years ago, and he will no doubt be doing so for much of his remaining future. I was strongly reminded of the Xena episode of the Simpsons. It was very amusing though, and the only question I can actually remember was James being asked who he preferred, Sarah or John. For the record, he chose the latter.

"Crazy TW fans are really crazy. I mean I'm crazy, but they're...craaazy."

After learning the value of a deck of uno cards and nearly waiting in the wrong place, we spent a good deal of time waiting in line for the Gareth David-Lloyd panel. We were trapped between a cosplay girl sporting white wings that spanned what must have been 8ft (she had to go through doors sideways, took up an entire back row of chairs, could not turn around, and yes, she made them herself, I asked), a girl awaiting the arrival of her boyfriend (upon whom we inflicted ourselves), and the random Twilight booth next to the signing tables. Yes, a Twilight booth of all things. This of course meant that everyone was treated to my sporadic outbursts at poor Cedric. As you do.

The panel took place in a really nice room and we created another drinking game, this one for the awkward 'Hi' that seemed to precede every questions. We could really have benefited from a flask. Firstly, let's be clear here, when it comes to Torchwood, I am the first to admit that I am quite insane. I am completely aware of this. But in this panel I witnessed a whole other level of crazy. See, for one thing, I really have no investment in Gareth as a person. This sounds mean, but I adored a character he played, and they have absolutely nothing in common other than a gorgeous voice (beautiful welsh vowels, check and check.) For another, I internalise my madness and usually let it spill out in ranty blogs to much eye-rolling, I definitely do not externalise it in a panel. It's really no wonder RTD thought the fandom consisted of nine hysterical women, he probably had those nine accosting him. But as the girl next to me pointed out, it's the crazy ones who get up and talk, and that's the representation that then goes out. It had to be seen to be believed. The highlight was definitely the girl who just refused to accept GDL's answer when it wasn't the one she wanted, and kept saying "BUT IT'S A TIME TRAVEL SHOW!" with an increasingly hysterical inflection. Lizzie and I were nearly crying with laughter.

"Trams are still my least favourite form of public transport. Spent far too much time on them today already."

After milling about the exhibition hall and taking in some costumes - including a small child dressed as a dragon, a drag Leia, blue cat people, and a Link of Zelda fame in a disturbingly short tunic, we decided to head back into the city and hold onto what little sanity we could before returning in the evening. This involved another agonisingly slow tram, and my dislike for them was further cemented. I really do not like the things. It's sort of hilarious actually, I'm sure as often as Lizzie remarked the city was pretty, I'd just as often voiced my disapproval of the trams. I just find them to be an excruciatingly annoying form of transportation, and every time I have cause to think of Melbourne, I glower slightly at the thought of its beloved trams. In the end, we managed to have a late lunch and ambled back to the hotel only to sit in some sort of brain dead stupor watching some weird documentary-esque show on SBS.

"Note to self: The french martini and campari princess cocktails are not to be had again. Repeat - never again!"

The one thing that had become abundantly clear to me along the course of the day was that we were going to need alcohol if we were to get through the James Masters concert that evening. All dolled up, I decreed it cocktail hour so off to the Hilton bar we went...oh my god, you have no idea what horror we encountered there. I suspect the drinks had been strained through a mouldy sock. What's worse is I think the bar staff knew it was horrific as the waiter looked quite apologetic when he asked us how it was. Somehow, and probably due to desperation, we managed to finish it. We had to have another drink just to get the rid of the taste. The concierge had most kindly ordered us a taxi which we unceremoniously fell into and I attempted skewering Lizzie's foot with my heel. We were blessed with a taxi driver who had no idea where he was going - but at least it was more comfortable than a tram. We got there in the end, and just in time to *drum roll* line up! Woo! We made ourselves comfortable on a nearby bench and played uno while accusing each other of cheating and casting spells until the doors opened.

"This is perhaps one of the strangest situations we've found ourselves in."

This was pretty much the tone of our entire evening. We mocked and laughed and tried very hard to be serious, but you must understand that it was incredibly difficult to watch James Marsters sing sexually implicit songs (often about underage girls it would seem) in the vein of Chris Isaak while an army of fangirls turned to goo virtually in front of your eyes. We mock out of love, we swear! The staff and volunteers formed a human barrier between us and the exit as James and co made a hasty retreat, which made me giggle all the more and fear for our lives lest we be murdered for our mocking ways while so trapped. In the end we lived to giggle some more in the cool Melbourne air.

If there is one thing Saturday taught me, it is to never underestimate how useful packing a deck of uno cards can be.

"I don't want to leave this room. Will the hotel be upset if I squat here?"

I had much the same difficulty getting up on Sunday, and made much the same mistake with the curtains. It was with great trepidation that I left the room, and an amazingly awesome bed, behind to stumble down to reception. With our bags stowed safely for the day, we headed of the Queen Victoria Market. I had a beautiful coffee that restored my will to live (and I may also have finished Lizzie's *ahem*) and it was lovely to wander about and be touristy. We came across a gorgeous shop that sold genuine Venetian masks, and I could not resist buying one. I have always wanted one but have never wanted to risk bringing it home. I also got a black lace fan at another little shop. We hopped on a tourist shuttle bus after midday to get a feel for the greater Melbourne area, and stopped off at Docklands' Harbourtown for more shopping. Instead, we were attacked by a velociraptor. Brilliant!

"Thanks to usual travel shenanigans, I was bumped to an earlier flight and am now awaiting Lizzie's arrival in Sydney."

By the time we'd detoured by the botanical gardens, the NGV, and had an absolutely goooooorgeous late lunch at Federation Square, it was late afternoon and time to start the homeward trek. We collected our bags, said our final farewell to the wondrous luxury of the Hilton, and boarded yet another free tram to the station where the airport bus awaited. Turned out that it was lucky we showed up early since the flight we were originally booked on was full and the idiot with the stand-by ticket had to leave on an earlier flight. After inadvertently insulting the guy sitting next to me, and suffering general brain!fail after the weekend's insanity, I made it to Sydney an hour before Lizzie and whittled away the time by getting in the cleaning crew's way. Qantas clearly though we would be a safety hazard on the same plane which, all things considered, is fair enough.

Finally, I arrived home, disappointed that I had to lug my own bag up the stairs; that I was once again probably the geekiest person in the room; that my bed wouldn't make itself; and that a few pages worth of scribbles certainly didn't equate productivity. But even as I kicked the heels off my long-suffering feet and made myself some hot chocolate, I couldn't help but grin -this had truly been an epic weekend.

Music: Crickets chirping
Mood: Exhausted

Cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song

Whoa, I just had a thought. In today's day and age, where we're constantly hooked up to some device or another and have more means to express our every thought and miniscule detail of our lives, any tweet could essentially be recorded as your last words.

The thought struck as I'm reading a bunch of online news articles about recent celebrity deaths as part of research for my creative piece, and there is one about DJ AM that actually ends with "He last posted a message on Twitter..." and goes on to quote it. It just got me thinking that with Twitter being as prolific as it is, this would probably be the norm from now on, and isn't that a bit strange?

Twitter is so instantaneous that it loses relevance quite quickly, it's a kneejerk reaction to the world around you, a quick impression of your life and its effect on the world. It's like...an imprint on the beach, the kind below the tide that quickly sinks away again. To think that any tweet could be your last, that any inane observation could be taken out of that rapidfire world to be quoted (and kept) as a record of your last words of sorts...that's sort of mind-boggling. I'm tempted to say "Make every tweet count!" but that would defy the point of twitter really. I mean, if I had to be poignant and thoughtful all the time, I would never tweet. I just want to say "om nom brownies" or tell someone about the dog on the corner doing handstands. That said, I'm not famous, so I doubt anyone would really bother quoting Twitter as my last words.

Still an interesting thought though.

Music: You wouldn't like me - Tegan & Sara
Mood: Working

Social networking has deserted me

LJ is still not working for me. All these jokes about work productivity soaring over the last 24hrs are not that funny when I'm bored out of my mind.

Now Twitter's doing the same thing. I thought they fixed that! Internet fail. Seriously, technology is evil. You become so entrenched in it without even realising, and then it stops working and you stand around gaping ineffectually. Sigh. At least I brought a book today but it's significantly harder to covertly read under the desk than it is to just have Jasper around.

Mutters regarding the madness be here, here, and here.

--
From Jasper, with love.
[[Power and speed and death rolled into one]]

Holding dominion over the entire shallow, pointless conversation

I have spent the entire day in bed. I was going to go out but there were cars parked in the driveway and I didn't have the energy to argue with neighbours today, so I simply got back udner the covers. Frankly, it's too cold and wet out anyway. I cannot wait for this damnable season to be over. Maybe then I can return my skin to some passably human state. Maybe I should just wipe the entire winter from my memory. Someone pass the retcon!

Seriously though, really need to find a dress.

I have come to the conclusion that I love Twitter. How can I not? It’s the easiest way to be involved with absolutely anything that takes your fancy, anytime and anywhere. You are constantly in the know. Prime example, I’ve been following the Comic Con thread for the duration, and it’s the next best thing to being there. The photos, the gossip, the jokes, the trailers that are posted almost instantaneously on youtube (although I often wish there was a way to edit out the screeching that often accompanies these things.) It’s all there, in real time. That’s what sets Twitter apart from other services, it may be excruciatingly boring and seem totally pointless most of the time, but when something’s happening, you have immediate access to it regardless of where you are or who you are “friends” with. If you look at the way certain people use it, like Amanda Palmer for example, it has the potential to open so many doors. In general though, the internet has made the world a much smaller, much more accessible place and for someone like me, who just loves to know everything, it’s the most amazing thing. Social networking may seem like benevolent stalking and gross narcissism and/or megalomania, but it’s all in how you use it. The opportunities afforded by this medium are just staggering.

Three observations made from comic con videos:
- Johnny Depp continues to amaze me, he’s so unassuming. He gets so uncomfortable and I swear he still blushes. He’s not unappreciative of his fame; he just doesn’t get what the hell everyone is on about. I think it’s great.
- David Tennant is such an entertainer/loon. I mean that in the best, I-really-want to-kidnap-you, way.
- Noel Fielding is adorable. End of.

Now I have to leave my dominion of Dorkdom in order to be a geek in the living room. The final episode of Merlin is on tonight and I can finally watch the damn thing. I had words with the nutter who downloaded these for me and insisted there were only twelve episodes *rolls eyes*

Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will.

Yoda tried to warn me.

Music: The IT Crowd
Mood: Lazy

I worried and stalled every night of my life

I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my first wife
Everybody leaves and I'd expect the same from you

Apparantly my father is considering getting a small car instead of a new motorbike since mum no longer trusts him not to, you know, die. In all fairness, it's easier to recover from something like this when you're young, he has enough aches and pains normally as it is without adding all this to the list. I suggested he get a nice little second hand car like mine. Yesterday he shows up with dealer pamphlets for new cars *facepalm* It apparantly won't just be his car, but one any of us can drive. So if, for example, my friends and I want to go on a road trip, I'd take this car instead of Jack. But we'll see what comes of it.

My parents don't tell me anything, I swear. Yesterday when I got home from work and they were gallivanting about looking at aforementioned cars, a family friend of ours shows up at the door. This leaves me perplexed (and half dressed since I wanted to have a shower before heading out) and her confused since she thought she was supposed to come over for dinner/watch the rugby and there I am staring at her blankly. I assured her she was no do bout right, I just have no idea what's going on. Anyway, my parents did eventually turn up to entertain the guests I had no idea were coming. Thanks guys *rolls eyes* I spent about half an hour showing her daughter my books. She ended up borrowing one of my Nancy Drew ones. It makes me strangely happy - I was her age when I first started reading Nancy Drew books myself.

Anywho, headed out to Penrith for a lovely dinner with Lizzie, followed by Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I have no idea how anyone who hasn't read the book knows what's going on. (Then again it probably serves them right, read the books! What's wrong with you?) Considering how played down it was, I can't imagine anyone really caring about Snape's proclamation of "I am the half-blood Prince!" It's more of a "yeah, so?" thing. Similarly, the symbolism of the phoenix at the end is also easily missed.

That said, it was very amusing. The humour and dynamic between the trio is really played upon and it makes it utterly charming. Ah, the awkward teenage moments! The Dumbledore scene in the cave was exactly like I always visualised it. Helena Bonham Carter really embodies her role as Bellatrix, she's one of the most memorable of the lot. I'm slightly perplexed as to why they felt the need to include the random fight scene at the Weasley place and then skip over the fight that occurs at the end - it begs the question why Draco wanted to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts in the first place. But whatever. It's hard to expect much of these films seeing as they have so much ground to cover, but this one at least had charm to make up for its adaption. All in all, I enjoyed it.

Lizzie and I may have some problems though, we are unable to watch anything without bringing a bazillion outside jokes to the table. That's why half the time we will be laughing hysterically when no one else is. Cue many Doctor Who jokes, Lord of the Rings and Star Wars references, and a healthy dose of subtext. I still insist that Draco is clearly the bastard son of the Phantom of the Opera, just in Armani (I think Voldemort has some sort of deal with them.)


You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!

So yes, that was pretty much my weekend. Today was spent doing fascinating tasks such as drive home and go grocery shopping. The fun and excitement, will it never cease?

Best reference of the day was found in Wil Anderson's Sunday column: "Sometimes I end up so lost in the mall, I half expect David Bowie to jump out and sing Dance Magic Dance!"

Best tweet of the week goes to Mark Hoppus who wanted to name a restaurant Om nom nom's. Mikey Way made things even funnier by responding with "What about Om Nom's nom nom's?" I probably shouldn't have found that as funny as I did.

Finally, best random quote goes to Gareth David Lloyd, "I'd like to go to space next, get my astronaut training...Ianto in space - inner depths in outerspace." Again, I should probably not have found that as funny as I did.

Now, to a warm shower and a warm bed...

I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life.
Everybody leaves, so why, why wouldn't you?

Music: Great Expectations - The Gaslight Anthem
Mood: Sleepy

Today was a day just like any other

Currently highly amused by a twitter repartee between James Moran and Joe Lidster (both screenwriters who've done some Torchwood/Doctor Who work) following the latter reading about himself on the DW forums. That is always a bad idea, I'm not even famous and I know that. The general gist of this is firmly established in the immortal words of Mikey Way's t-shirt : don't google yourself. But anyway, as I said, it's highly amusing. It seems to have culminated with the tweet - 'are you going to make me dress like Ianto again?' *snorts* The reason I am into this whoniverse deal as much as I am is no doubt because the various minds involved seem to act so much like my friends and I most of the time. We're all on our own looney little planet.

The fact that I need to comment on this says something about the major appeal of twitter being in other people's random conversations. Take all the Perez Hilton drama this past week - there were more than a few celebs getting a stab in, the most prolific by far must have been John Mayer's contribution. Rolling Stone even collected the entire thing. To be honest, Perez should probably just shut up and take it. I mean if you're going to sit around and make snarky comments about other people 99% of the time, you can't be surprised and hurt when those people turn around at the first opportunity to dish back. He's so defenisive which I find amazing. I'm not saying physical violence was necessarily the right course of action, but I just don't think he can innocently play the victim card the way he has. I don't actually follow Perez so I've been getting all this through word of mouth/third parties. I generally puzzle over why exactly he is as popular as he is...I mean, what's his actual point?

Curse of this generation really, isn't it? Bunch of people famous for essentially doing nothing to contribute to society. Like that mad lot off The Hills. The very embodiment of pointlessness.

Anyway...I only really come on to post some lyrics currently stuck in my head. Oh so easily distracted *rolls eyes*

I wake up to find it's another
Four aspirin morning, and I dive in
I put on the same clothes I wore yesterday.
When did society decide that we had to change
And wash a t-shirt after every individual use:
If it's not dirty, I'm gonna wear it.
I take the stairs to the car
And there's fog on the windows.
I need caffeine in my blood stream,
I take caffeine in the blood stream.
I grip the wheel and all at once I realize:
My life has become a boring pop song
And everyone's singing along

Music: I'm ready - Jack's Mannequin
Mood: Geeky

The earth is doomed

I find it really annoying when people talk about others on twitter as he/she when they’re replying to that very same person’s tweet. Look, I realise it’s someone famous and you’re probably never going to get a reply, but to, for example, comment on a photo Mikey Way posted of himself and then say “he looks so…” whatever, is just weird. Technically you’re engaging in conversation with him, would you refer to him as ‘he’ normally too then? Strange pet peeve I know, but I’m a strange person.

Another pet peeve is trying to decipher the messages my Afrikaans friends send me on Facebook since they have apparently stopped using vowels – Ek wt jy nthou dit haha jy mt my se waneer jy weer ini land is, ns mt by meka km n kuier. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? It does not take that much effort to include an extra letter here or there. Seriously people, come on. I mean I’m not overly fond of text talk for English, but this is even more annoying. Here I was thinking they were all being so proud of their language lately and yet they bastardise it like this. Perplexing.

Now regarding that trailer I posted earlier while trying not to die [I am not built for this anticipation business, I can barely stand it, and I think it might in fact be my mortal foe. Just think of how often we have fought as I struggled to skip to the last pages of books. Epic battles. I think it’s taking years off my life expectancy.] That is just so Gwen. So demanding. “But why wasn’t the Doctor here to stop all of the evil that’s happened in the world? He should you know, if he has the power, shaaaaame on him. Doesn’t he have a heart? Oh, why must I be the only one with a heart??” Gwen darling, he is just one guy you know. A time lord sure, but still just one. That said, I kinda agree with your reasoning there. I’ve often wondered why he doesn’t just give up on this stupid planet.

In an attempt to derail my one track mind, my friends have been encouraging the watching of other shows. As I’m not really getting into Arrested Development as much as I’d hoped, I have started the first season of Buffy. I should finish it by tomorrow. I know I’m slow on the uptake here, but I somehow managed to completely miss it when it was first on. I think it is safe to say that I am fully converted to the Whedon cult though, because I love it. It’s just so funny, and it has great, believable characters. I really like Giles. He seemed a bit emo in eps from the other seasons I’ve randomly watched, but so far in the first he’s just adorable...
- "I'll just jump in my time machine, go back to the 12th century, and ask the vampires to postpone their ancient prophecy for a few days while you take in dinner and a show."
- “You were right, all along, about everything.... Well, no, you weren't right about your mother coming back as a Pekinese."
- “He's turned into a 16-year-old boy. Of course you'll have to kill him."
Xander has some great lines too...
- “I laugh in the face of danger...then I hide until it goes away.”
- “To read makes our speaking English good.”
So yes, very much enjoying it all. Not obsessively, but god knows I only have room to be completely obsessed with one thing at a time. It takes so much energy. Give me my Children of Earth now goddamnit!

It is fast becoming one of my life's ambitions to attend the San Diego Comic Con. I've heard such wonderful, amazing stories about it in the past and there are always randoms such as the MCR boys running around and being, well, fanboys. This year apparently David Tennant will be there. Nghfgh. Trip to San Diego y/y? Why can't I be a jet setting billionaire, or the daughter of one? I'd be the worst socialite ever, can you imagine - I'd be going from nerd fest to nerd fest, music festival to music festival. The geek socialite! Hee.

In other joyous news, the Book Depository is shipping out my pre-orders! They were only due in next week, so I’m very pleased. Also, I ordered a new extension for my external hard drive yesterday and that should be delivered tomorrow. I can finally get my iTunes back. I love buying things online, it’s just so much more fun getting things all boxed and delivered to your front door.

Now what else…oh got my AAR tickets today. Just organising Wicked now, we’re quite a group heading to that, it takes a while to get things co-ordinated.

I think I need to go away for a weekend or something and do some work. This whole ‘writer’s retreat’ business, as my university keeps referring to it. It would be nice to get away with the sole purpose of being creative, but it’s such a bitch trying to find time for that sort of thing. I just don’t get any work done at home cause it’s home you know, and there’s so much else to distract me. Ah well, see how we go I suppose.

I have to work Saturday *groans* I’m so over all this working.

Music: Peacemaker - Green Day
Mood: Cold

Drop a coin for humanity

Woah what a day. I am spent.

After the lack of sleep the past week and the advent of horrific Ianto-killing dreams, I could barely keep my eyes open last night. I passed out just after 10 (which never happens) and dragged myself awake just after 6 as I still had to do my thesis presentation for today's class. This is one of my pet hates. I have never been one to do my assignments the day it's due, cause it's just too much like playing with fire, or arguing with the Mouth of Sauron. That is, provoking doom and destruction. But c'est la vie, I was simply too tired to get it done. But of course, being a procrastinator, I only started the damn thing around 9, after I let the Oven Cleaning Guy in. As a side note, he made quite a bit of noise, but at least we now have a clean oven which I used tonight to make dinner actually, so yay.

Anyway, by the time mum got home to pay said Oven Cleaning Guy around 10, I only had 4 minutes worth of a proposal. By the time Oven Cleaning Guy left, I clocked in at 6 minutes and had given up. I just can't find a way to talk about my project at any great length because it is a creative piece and it would mostly take shape as it's written, while the theory will come from that once it's done. So until it's actually done, I can only be very vague about what I'm trying to do. So off I went with this rather random and too short presentation. I rushed through it at lightning speed as I always do, rocking the chair on two legs (one day I will fall off and kill myself) but once it was done and I was trying to brace myself for the slew of questions that I couldn't answer, they were all very accomodating and said it sounded excellent. Pause. Blink. What? As it turns out the only major criticism they had was that it was still too broad a topic and that I should perhaps narrow it down to one particular field or social networking site. So let's all wave hello to Twitter because as a micro-blogging site it offers me the most room to work with in terms of analysing the representation of identity in text. Since it's fairly limited in what it does, only providing updates, it's open to a reader-response type of analysis and textual framework setting.

I'm just amazed that it went down so well. Huh. Glad I didn't stay up all night worrying about it. I've posted the actual thing earlier, just for reference's sake.

In non-uni related happenings, I used my PayPal account for the first time today [which is kind of sad since I've had it sine '07] and it was such a breeze. I wish more online sites allowed me to pay this way, it greatly negates the need for the dreaded credit card of doom.

I think my desktop just kind of freaked my dad out. Haha. I'm quite fond of it, I made it myself and I've never been able to get that whole smoke effect thing happening until now. Screencap?

As I'm on the subject of images, found these pics on Jasper today. Not quite sure what I was trying to take a photo of, but the first one is kind of cool anyway.




Also, someone remind me to take a photo of a particular room in Bon Marche level 3. I nearly collapsed in a fit of insane giggles when I walked past it with the others girls yesterday. They wouldn't get it so I immediately had to text Lizzie or combust with glee. I'm a loser like that.

Oh yesterday, what weirdness. We spent almost an hour sitting outside Martin's office before finally getting someone to ring him, only to find out he's in hospital. One of the girls then had the idea that we should workshop our stuff anyway, so off we went to a cafe and spent two hours going over our creative pieces. We were sitting there, with a laptop open, looking at art books and reading poetry out loud. I kid you not. It's probably the most collegial I have ever felt in my entire life. I mean who actually does that? 'You sit in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other' comes to mind.

Now only two more things to do. Creative piece is virtually done even if no one understood what I'm trying to do (surely a sign I'm being post-modern...no?) and just an essay on how the everyday is perceived and changed in terms of how experience is represented in text.

As for the gigs I mentioned this morning, I'm thinking of trying to do both Friendly Fires and Manchester Orchestra. I'm just nervous that I will mistime it and end up missing the second one. See, Friendly Fires is at the Manning Bar at Sydney Uni, door time set at 6. With that timeframe, one would expect them to be on stage around 8.30, done by 11 at the latest. Manchester Orchestra has a door time of 8, and it's at the Oxford Art Factory. Last time I was at that venue with Em, the headliner wasn't even on by 11.30. So, if they stick to my expectations, it would give me half an hour at the very least to get from the Manning to Oxford street. Completely do-able but maybe a bit risky, it would suck majorly to just arrive too late. I don't know. Will think about it. Not for too long though...don't want to miss out completely!

I'm off to bed. I'm freezing out here, and I have a pounding headache. Besides, I just feel like watching 'Cyberwoman'. I'm working tomorrow - the other girl is having some surgery so I'm picking up a few extra shifts. What's annoying is that I'm not getting paid any extra cause it's sort of negated by the long weekend. Sigh. At least I have time to finish my assignments. That's something.

P.S. Just realised I've hit 500 updates on Twitter. It's also my most visited site according to google toolbar. When did this happen? Why did this happen? I weep for my future.

Music: East Jesus Nowhere - Green Day
Mood: Exhausted

Red balloons go by

I am in love with the new Torchwood promo pics. I saw this one this morning and my brain just short-circuited.


[I stole the pic from here]

Presentation went ok. I talked way too fast which I always do, but I got through everything and it looked like I engaged with text so yeah. It went well with the other guy's presentation too, so I think we did ok. We got an extention on our essay as well, so now I have a little more room to work with. I'm going to try and still get it done, cause I don't want to have a situation where I'm still doing it the night before you know.

I also got my first assignment back. The tutor was saying how we all did well, but she was marking really hard and that she would be nicer with our next assignment. I was of course worried, especially since I hadn't picked up my assignment last week like most of the others so I had no idea how to take her talk about it. Anyway, she handed mine over and it turns out I got a high distinction. I never know how to feel about this. I always look at the others and I think how hard they try, and then I look at me bitching and moaning and feeling like I don't know what I'm doing, but I get this mark. Especially since they all think I don't care. It's not that I don't care, of course I care - we all want to do as well as we can after all, it's just that I realised a long time ago that with the odd way my brain is wired, I can't afford to let myself worry about these things. I would drive myself mad. My perfectionism fried me in high school and I can't do that again. I can't deal with that. So I take this cae sera sera attitude to save myself the heartache. So I feel a bit conflicted when I get these marks, but at the same time, it feels wonderful to think I can actually do this shit. It doesn't matter if I can't discuss it in class or spout theory from the top of my head, I can engage with it in my work, and that's something. So they might think I'm a very strange person who hardly ever talks, makes stupid jokes they don't get, and stares at them blankly, but in the end my work is solid. It's vindication in a sense. I suppose that's good.

With the presentation done and work slightly better spaced out, I've taken the evening to unwind. Revelling in the state of fandom bliss induced by the above referenced pics, I decided to watch some Firefly. I never got around to finishing the season. I'm up to episode 10 now. It is such a great show. I also came to the conclusion today that Simon was quite cute.

Anyway, I am so desperate for chocolate, I'm eating coco puffs. Seeing as I only got four hours sleep yesterday, I think it'd be best if I headed to bed.

Oh, before I forget - congratulations to Lyn-Z and Gerard Way who welcomed Bandit Lee Way into the world yesterday (I think it was yesterday, bah time zones!) The news was confirmed by Mikey Way on trusty twitter. I am overwhelmed by the urge to go out and buy punk baby clothes - converse, misfits jumpsuits and the like. So, so adorable. I'm sure it's going to be a very cute, very quirky kid. My, how the rockstar brood continues to grow!

Music: Seinfeld
Mood: Gleeful

Now I get what I want

Ok I think I can get into this Castle show, it's quite amusing. It reminds me a bit of Californication if you replace the sex and dysfunction with murder. Wait. That sounded wrong.

Remind me to go to Supanova this year. It's the only real convention we have around here and it's worth just putting in an appearance to for once not feel like the geekiest person on the planet. Although last night I found out Face from the A-Team is going to be there. It completely cracked me up, I do believe I flailed at my mother. He was also Starbuck in the original Battlestar Galactica, who is of course a girl in the new series. I actually read something interesting on that while doing research for my cyberspace presentation. In an essay [Write something on my wall: Body, Identity and Poetry by Kazim Ali], the argument opens with a parallel between the old and new Starbuck, to illustrate how body is like a signature. Anyway, it goes on to the following - "One's second thought was to look back at the original Starbuck character and asks was the sexual tension between Apollo and Starbuck always there? If you look at those old episodes, you will agree that it was." And in there somewhere is a commentary on why sci-fi spawned slash. I love the concluding remark on that paragraph though - "The past writes the present, but the present always returns the favour." I have an appreciation for cyclical arguments.

In other news, our phone number here appears to have been used by a variety of business before being allocated to us. People keep ringing for print cartridge refills and tree removals (apparantly, it's in the yellow pages for that one). The best part is when I explain to people that this is now a residential number and they still ask me if I know who could help them or if I could offer any advice *shakes head* I also have a feeling the owner is some sort of conman and keep expecting the Mafia to show up, asking for the pretzel money. Then again I do have an overactive imagination and spent years convinced the people across the road were dealing drugs (it turned out they were music teachers). My way of looking at the world is far more interesting.

The only other pressing concerns I have at this moment is the fact that I can't breathe if I lean forward and that I appear to be having random heart palpatations. As I mused on twitter, I'm too young to have a heart attack, right?

Speaking of Twitter, the police are on it! How freaking random is that? It started as a hoax but then they thought it was a good idea. Oh, technology, you weird thing.

Now, random photos:

- This is what I meant by "hill in the backyard"


- This be my room.


- I need to get something up above the bed. Thinking of those big photoframes that has all different sized slots on the inside. That's a fail description, I know. Something black and white, at any rate. I'm getting a canvas printed of one of my Paris pics to put up on the wall joining my study and my bedroom.


- This be my study, it's a bit dark from this angle. The Saxon Green (hee!) is way brighter than that.


- And the other angle. Look, I have room for more books and dvds! It makes a nice change. Also look at the epic amounts of uni work strew about. Sigh.


- Finally, here's Oreo. It's blurry, because as everyone who's ever tried knows, she hates photos.

The only things that I still really need to do is organise the right side of my wardrobe, get the full length mirror and new desk chair from IKEA, print new photos and the canvas piece, and paint the bathroom. Oh and find out what that weird fucking smell is that I can't seem to get rid of in any permanent way. It's gross.

Grrr. My parents are constantly bickering and arguing and it's driving me bloody insane. I can't work under these conditions!

Where did I put that iPod...

[I have concocted such a bizarre "study" playlist, I've updated it on here too]

Music: Since you been gone - Kelly Clarkson
Mood: Working

I become what I can't be

Trying to convince my mum she wants to make hot chocolate is proving more difficult than I deem absolutely necessary.

Two quick things, both related to the twittersphere I guess:

1) I want one of these Losers of Friday Night on their Computer shirts! That was the most random, most fun things I've woken up to in a while. And though it wasn't technically Friday night for me at the time, I totally got behind the concept. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it was started by the every brilliant Amanda Palmer and inadvertently ended up taking over the place for a little bit. You can read about it here. It was like one of those cultish, mega-quick things that instil that "oh you had to be there!" reactions and thus I feel it warrants a shirt.

2) What is with these damned Octopus USB drives being peddled by Mark Hoppus and Pete Wentz/related FBR crew? I mean hell, when did USB drives become something of merch-esque standard? There's something in there about how technologically dependent we've become as a society but I'm damned if I can find it. Again, if you don't know wtf I'm on about - here, here and here.

Oh, saw the most adorable thing waiting for the train yesterday. There was a couple waiting next to me, and one was fussing with his scarf, trying to get it to sit right I suppose. Anyway, the minute he was satisfied with it and let it go, his boyfriend yanked him forewards with it, effectively ruining his work. The expression on his face was so priceless! It was one of those long suffering "if I didn't like you so much I'd kill you" looks.

Also, random sidenote, I have forgotten how stunning this was.


Music: Stop and stare - One Republic
Mood: Relaxed

My heart, it don't beat the way it used to

Holy hellcats Batman, the blog's alive!

The word chaotic doesn't even begin to cover the week I've had.

Where did I last leave off? Ah yes, graduation. Well I have to say that went a lot better than I expected. It was actually kinda fun to see all the randoms again like Emo Boy and Mohawk Boy. I even roped the latter, lost and unsuspecting, into line with us. I made plans to hang with Ally, took photos, and made silly Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings jokes with Lizzie. They dress you in a robe after all, ringwraith and Voldemort jokes are unavoidable. "Robe me!" indeed. It only went for 90minutes, and though it is essentially just an extended roll call, it wasn't nearly as boring as I had expected. My parents were really happy, which is nice since I did it for them. Mum actually cried, which never happens. It was quite sweet really. We were all just so tired after all the painting and cleaning that it kind of took some of the shine off the evening. We just wanted to collapse somewhere. But as they say, all's well that end's well.

The rest of the week was dedicated purely to the completion of the painting job of doom, and Saturday we actually started moving the furniture in. I've been sleeping here since. Since there is no enclosed area outside and I don't have a kennel for her, Oreo has been sleeping in my room with me. I think she's enjoying it. Considering what obscene times I usually go to bed and what obscene time my dad gets up, she was only really sleeping outside for perhaps 3 hours a night. Whatever. I think her only problem is that I may or may not be kicking her if she gets on the bed during the night. Sometimes I toss and turn a lot *shrugs*

Yesterday and early hours of this morning was spent finishing a really half-assed version of that godforsaken Proust essay. I really can't keep dragging it out and figured it was better that I at least submit something. Of course, the tutor wasn't there today. Epic. Sigh. Then again it's not like I printed it to submit it, in all the madness I've failed to notice that I'm out of ink. Mandy took our class for an hour just talking about our creative pieces and so, as everyone else dispersed to no doubt do uni work, I went shopping. Of course. Ended up buying two sweater dress type things from Sportsgirl and tights. God I love tights. I actually wear my skirts and dresses thanks to them and it gives some colour to my wardrobe. Next to Starbucks Mint Hot Chocolates, they almost make winter worth it. Almost. I ran into someone from mum's work while milling around drooling over shoes in Myer, felt very grown up standing around in my work clothes with shopping bags talking to a colleague. Oh, total random moment earlier though, as I caught my reflection in a revolving door coming down Pitt street with my black vest and purple long sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows, I couldn't help giggling to myself and think that I was channeling my inner Ianto. You know, because it's sorta like what he wears in 'Captain Jack Harkness', the episode where angry!Ianto is angry and shoots Owen and generally just looks fucking hot.

Yes, these are the things that amuse me.

Speaking of, had everyone giggling at mum's work yesterday. I was over there using their internet and geeking out with the IT department while trying to do my Proust essay, and everyone kept stealing my Doctor Who key chain to "exterminate" and "upgrade" people. Even today they kept making me press the "Exterminate!" button and then we'd all giggle. Being geeky is such fun.

Anyway, busy schedule for the week. IKEA and more clearing up tomorrow, Presentation and movie with Ally Thursday, Friday involves work, Wolverine with the girls followed by Danny's gig. Possibly Star Trek on Saturday. Yay for socialness!

Now random things I've wanted to mention:

1) Why does 13 on House get to go to Chase's bachelor party...I mean just because she's bi? Does that mean she gets to go to the hen's night as well? That hardly seems fair. Actually, I loved how House sent her and Foreman to choose the strippers. It was quite amusing. She is very pretty though, almost as gorgeous as Katie McGrath, but not quite...don't get me started.


See?

2) New season of Numb3rs finally started! Larry is made of win. End of.

3) I'm covered in so many cuts and bruises that I look like the victim of some sort of domestic abuse. It's terrible. I don't mind the visuals so much, I just wish my muscles would stop aching. I mean hell, my hands hurt. I can barely touch my steering wheel. For this I blame the paint roller.

4) Merlin got obscenely high ratings for its first episode and I hope this continues. I really can't stress enough how adorkable that show is.

5) I read a completely random Mat Devine interview from 06 which had some classic Mat moments I feel I need to share -
Mat: (interrupting) Dude! I just found myself wandering around - I'm now in a closet filled with wine! Boxes and boxes of wine!
***
Mat: My greatest fear is being in a car crash.
Interviewer: Oh really?
Mat: Yeah. So that's like...if a shark attack was your biggest fear and being put in a shark tank every day.
Interviewer: So, who does most of the driving then?
Mat: We do it. Dan does.
Interviewer: Wouldn't you feel more secure if you were?
Mat: No, I just take Xanax and Ambien.
Interviewer: I could see how that would help
***
Interviewer: One day you wake up and you're president of the United States, what are the first three things you would do?
Mat: Ok number one, take over Canada.
Interviewer: Why Canada?
Mat: Cause it's there! It's right next to us and it freaks me out!
***
Mat, you are insane, I love you.

6) Music is so much more fun again now that I'm no longer so emotionally invested in the people behind it. Always give the music the benefit of the doubt

7) My thoughts midway through the move was that this was a lot like Frodo's journey, except in reverse. I am going from Mordor to the Shire. And yes, I am officially a hobbit now. Too bad really, I would have picked Rivendell if given the choice.

8) Overheard at work today, unimpressed older lady to her husband while reading a Woman's Weekly or some such anout a celebrity wedding, "I don't think your great grandmother would have worn a dress like that!"

9) Folie A Deux really is brilliant. Everyday I have a different song in my head. It's fantastic. My least favourite song on the album is probably 'America's Suitehearts' and that's saying something. I skip nothing when listening to it, and I've continually listened to it for most of the duration of the move. I haven't done that since...well since From Under the Cork Tree. People always put pop-punk down as being trivial and easy, but it really isn't. It has so many layers and above all it's fun and catchy. I could go on but I'm too tired to write an essay on the values of popular music.

10) It's not even really winter yet and already I'm as dried out as a piece of fruit left in the sun. Moisturize me! Moisturize me!

Oh and also, tweet of the day goes to the zany James Moran for saying "I *am* a squeeing fangirl!" in response to someone else. Frank Iero also gets a special mention for the following: "The quote "the future's so bright, I gotta wear shades" should only describe the lifestyle of either a teenage vampire or doing tons of coke". Oh Frank *pats*

Now I shall digress and retreat to the couch for some Torchwood, tea, and an early night. I think I've earned it.

Music: For Reasons Unknown - The Killers
Mood: Sore

Colour yourself back in again, your secrets keep you sick

"Oh honey, you're so fucked up."
The pencil clattered on the stone floor, echoing around the cavernous space. An eyebrow arched delicately at the intrusion, a slight quirk of the lips, all visible only briefly before the shadows fell again. The air was heavy with an oddly familiar metallic tang and the faintest trace of suplher. Everything was caught in a soft laugh, an arched back, and eyes that scorched the darkness. A lilting voice that was designed to both soothe and tear apart became as immediate as oxygen. Permeable, it sank through conciousness and into the blood stream.
"You really have no idea."
A soft thump provided the only answer, but he was dead before he hit the ground. The walls seemed to close in on themselves, denying what they had just seen. They clamped their hands over their ears as the soft laugh played between them again, passing from one end to the other. Silence descended. It was a pink haze, light and decadent. It was anything but oppresive.

We're in trouble now.

Also,

I've learned a lot this past week, I learned my friend LeVar Burton is on Twitter, I learned how to tie three different nautical knots, I learned who William Beckett was, and I've learned how hard it is to find a rust-free 1979 Trans Am in California, near Los Angeles, that isn't brown, gold, manual, or being sold by a diehard Burt Reynolds buff.

Oh Gerard *shakes head* How we adore you.

Music: Some ridiculous Charles Bronson movie
Mood: Dispondent

Can't tell if I've been breathing or sleeping

Em and Roze were over tonight. We had a study group, which is something we're doing every Friday from now on. Cause clearly, we are the nerdiest 21 year olds around. What are you doing on Friday? Oh, study date, you know *shakes head* It worked well. Roze got her powerpoint presentation done and we starred in Em's media project. We struggled with converting Roze's Mac files onto our PCs and vice versa. Fun and games. 'Cept of course, helping the others, I hadn't done any of my work. Sigh. I have two essays I need to post ideas for this week and I am so royally fucked. Sigh. Tomorrow. Definitely have to write something tomorrow.

In between it all, we sort of watched some of the MTV Australia awards. It is just so lame. I mean really. I never understood why we even had our own MTV awards. We're just one country. The MTV Europe Awards is a collection, so that's alright, and the main MTVs, well it started in the US so that's justifiable as well. But honestly, this is just stupid. It's always a huge painful waste of time. This year their biggest mistake was letting fans accept awards on behalf of artists who weren't here. It led to many painfully awkward moments and stupidity. There really was no other way for that to play out. Hilarious to follow all this via the wonders of Twitter though as all week I've been watching Pete Wentz and Mark Hoppus' tweets as they ambled about my city. First was the hysterical laughter that came from Pete being trapped in the airport thanks to our impromptu storms (for some reason this really amused me) and Mark just generally being touristy. The thing that really got me however (other than MTV fucking up everything as I try to take a shortcut through the SEC parking garage and Town Hall being a mad house) was Pete deciding to hide two passes to the show in Dymocks George st. Where I spend a significant amount of my free time. He also hid them in the classics section, which is awkwardly located and I couldn't help but picture the staff's faces as various incarnations of emo kids came scrambling into the store, manhandling their Dickens novels. The thought of these WTF faces alone sent me into a hysterical fit of giggles. Too bad he didn't hide them the same time yesterday, I could have picked them up up and started my own treasure hunt, leaving post-its in my wake. Really make them work for it. I'd have put it somewhere really silly (like on the monorail), or somewhere difficult (like Centerpoint), or somewhere random (like the Marble Bar)...or perhaps give them to the 'Free Hugs' guy, who was back in Town Hall again (still wearing the purple suit). Just because Wentz doesn't have the time to make this needlessly complicated doesn't mean I don't have the inclination to do so. Such a mind fuck. Sadly, I missed this golden opportunity for pointless mayhem while getting my hair done. Well you know what they say, priorities. Ah well, next time.

Still, I'm going to miss the inane updates of random people from around my city, it's always fun to observe things you take for granted from a slightly removed perpective. For example, I love how visitors are always completely obsessed with the size of our bats.

Now let's see. I need an short essay idea that "shows some appreciation of the ways in which a writing self calls upon key problems about where and when an 'I' exists to be written about." Any ideas? In fact, any ideas about what that actually means?

How about this one - a paper addressing "the themes of experimentation and inventiveness in creative approach." Hm? Anything?

Ugh. I really need to get a move on. Really. Not sit around watching Moulin Rouge and Across The Universe, which is what I did last night.

I've been eating so much lately. It's disgusting. Don't know what's gotten into me. Stress? I've never been a stress eater. Hm. Need to drink more coffee methinks.

Oh yeah, have to mention this. Yesterday on the train into uni, I was sitting there minding my own business watching Merlin as I am wont to do on Thursdays, and this woman gets on - perfectly dressed business woman - turns around and starts talking to me. So obviously I blink stupidly and remove my earphones and politely ask her to repeat herself. What do you think she says? "Oh, I just wanted to say you look like a beatnik", before turning around again. I have been called a lot of things in my life, but I have to say this is the first time I've been called a beatnik. I don't even know why. I was wearing my Beckett jeans, cowboy boots, Jack Sparrow shirt and waistcoat with my 'Kill Hannah' and 'My Passion' buttons. And really, I was just minding my own business. Very strange. Class followng this was similarly perplexing. It always has the same effect on me - the one that imediately makes me question what.the.fuck I'm doing there in the first place.

Anyway. I think I'd best go to bed and do some reading. I started Brideshead Revisted last night and I'm already in love with it.

I shall leave with some random lyrics, for I decree it necessary and have been obsessed with this song all week.

Well you can hide a lot about yourself,
But honey, what're you gonna do?
And you can sleep in a coffin,
But the past ain't through with you.
'Cause we are all a bunch of liars,
Tell me, baby, who do you wanna be?
And we are all about to sell it,
'Cause it's tragic with a capital T.
Let it be, Let it be, Let it be!
'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends.
And we all get together when we bury our friends.
It's been eight bitter years since I've been seeing your face.
And you're walking away, and I will die in this place.
Sometimes you scrape and sink so low,
I'm shocked at what you're capable of.
And if this is a coronation, I ain't feeling the love.
'Cause we are all a bunch of animals
That never paid attention in school.
So tell me all about your problems;
I was killing before killing was cool.
You're so cool. You're so cool. So cool!
'Cause we all wanna party when a funeral ends
And we all get together when we bury our friends.
It's been nine bitter years since I've been seeing your face.
And you're walking away, and I will die in this place.
You'll never take me alive. You'll never take me alive.
Do what it takes to survive,'Cause I'm still here.
You'll never get me alive. You'll never take me alive.
Do what it takes to survive, and I'm still here.
You'll never take me alive. You'll never get me alive.
Do what it takes to survive, and I'm still here.
You'll never get me. You'll never take me
You'll never get me alive.
'Cause we all wanna party when a funeral ends.
And we all get together when we bury our friends.
It's been ten fucking years since I've been seeing your face 'round here.
And you're walking away, I will drown in the fear.

Music: Kill all your friends - My Chemical Romance
Mood: Working

Everyone’s caught on to everything you do

I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And make believe it came from you
I'm gonna write words oh so sweet
They're gonna knock me off my feet
A lotta kisses on the bottom
I'll be glad I got 'em
I'm gonna smile and say
I hope you're feeling better
I'll close with love the way you do
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And I'm gonna make believe it came from you

Dum dum dum.

Yeah ok. I don't know either. I just felt like it.

Today as I was wasting time on Twitter (which is becoming a bad habit and which would be infinitely more entertaining if more of my friends were actually involved), I had the thought that, you know, many ‘famous’ people don’t have twitter or facebook or such. Probably for fear of being flooded/stalked every waking hour of the day. Which is fair enough, but I was wondering, considering how big part of modern communication these things are, how do they actually keep in touch with people they know? Like their friends and family and such? Sure there’s email and messaging and whatever, but Facebook is the ultimate in staying involved in people’s lives. My friends and I don’t even have to talk anymore, it’s just a matter of “Yep, saw on Facebook.” Maybe they create accounts under psuedonyms or something. I just find it very hard to think that someone wouldn't have a Facebook account. I mean hell, my grandmother is on Facebook. It hardly seems fair if they miss out. But then again, they're probably better adjusted for it. Sometimes it gets a bit...overwhelming. Too much information. Danger, danger, arms flailing wildly! And so on.

I’m slightly hyper. I don’t know why. Maybe it's just nervous energy as my dad is getting on my nerves majorly. I feel suffocated. I want to run screaming from the house. It was with a lot of trepadition that I returned home after work today. One should not dread returning to one's home. Sigh. I suppose it’s not his fault he’s clingy and annoying. Does not make it any easier to deal with though.

ANZ sent me a brochure today informing me I can now personalize my credit card for free (limited time only, of course). So, you know, in exchange for signing away my soul four years ago, I can now put a pretty photo on my card. I’m considering it, because I am a loser, but of course I don’t want to put a photo of my dog on it or anything. No, I want to have the Torchwood logo or something like that. Like I said, because I am a loser. They might object due to copyright or some such crap. Always red tape.

I’m think I’m having a minor allergy attack. I can barely breathe and I went through a box of tissues at work. Blah. I hate it.

Oooh there be an article on the rise of singledom - "I hope in that in 10 years, there won't be a need for someone to write encouragingly about being single. It will be accepted as a choice, not a handicap." Damn straight.

The Hugo Award nominations are out and I now really want to get my hands on the Firefly and The Dresden Files graphic novels. Oh, and The Graveyard Book, which sounds brilliant and right up my alley. You can check them all out here.

I have work in the morning but the parental unit is going off on one of their 4x4 adventures so I can have the house, and the afternoon, all to myself. Always a cheery thought.

Is that what you call a getaway? Well, tell me what you got away with, cause I’ve seen more spine on jellyfish, I've seen more guts in eleven year old kids. Have another drink and drive yourself home, I hope there’s ice on all the roads, and you can think of me as you forget your seatbelt and again when your head goes through the windshield. Is that what you call tact? Well, your as subtle as a brick in the small of my back, so let’s end this call and end this conversation.

Music: Seventy time seven - Brand New
Mood: Hyper

Europe's in my veins

There was nothing in that moment but darkness. The words danced on the tips of tongues, fading out of thought as soon as they were grasped at. Tiny dust motes caught in a sliver of sunlight - now you see them, now you don't. So huge, so overwhelming, that no words would lend themselves to the occasion. None would allow themselves to be so tied up. For the very abscence of the one thing that's always longed for, the experience is all the more poignant. Undefined in the darkness, but pure. It asks for nothing but a steady sort of patience, to trust in the very thing that escapes the senses. A sad faith that dwells in the hearts of dreams, permeating everything but leaving no trace. There is nothing, and everything, in a moment. A single thread in a tapestry of experiences, each alone beyond recognition. Tongues cannot wrap around vowels, minds flick through empty discriptions that won't stick. There is only silence for such an occassion. It is beautiful, and it is there. It will be over in an instant, lost to pale shadows of recollection with a mere blink of an eye. But the inevitable should not always hold sway. Time waits for no man, yet we are here, and it is now. For a moment, that's enough.

I feel as if eloquence has escaped me these past few weeks. Perhaps I've only really had delusions of eloquence? My mother said something to me the other day about writing that I know she meant in the absolute best way, but which threw me off kilter a bit all the same.

Ah but none of that matters at this time of the morning.

The Fragments/Exit Wounds combination still kills me just a little bit.

I should sleep. Really. This is why I don't nap in the afternoon. My sleeping patterns are confused enough as it is, without throwing added zzz's in where they don't belong, regardless of whether my eyes have a different opinion or not.

P.S. I love how twitter is now even starting fueds.

Music: De-Lovely - Robbie Williams
Mood: Quixotic

Better shut your mouth and hold your breath

From today's paper : “Young Australians are using our national day and the flag of our country as a rallying point for racist, regressive and drunken ranting.” It’s so disgustingly true. I cannot believe that in today’s day and age young people could display such narrow-minded, bigoted behaviour. It’s part of the reason I find it really hard to be patriotic…as Lizzie said “I would be more patriotic if patriotism was not a synonym for bogan in this country.”

Something else that annoys me, because I am clearly an obsessive fucking nutter, is when people deny ever loving something. I have had many, many obsessions which have fizzled out or merely fallen dormant as others have come along, but I will never deny having been obsessed with something in the first place. Westlife. See? Not denying it. I was nine. It made perfect sense. Oh, and take My Chemical Romance for example, while the boys still (and always will) own a piece of my soul, it’s not nearly the same level as it used to be, it’s settled into a complacency and I just don’t channel that same vibe anymore. I won’t deny that I was mad about it before though. I’ve been getting this a lot with the Twilight books atm, people who were trying to get me into it originally are now scoffing and saying they didn’t even really like it that much. That’s not what you were saying two years ago when you were almost beating me over the head with it and then swooning because it was oh so wonderful, and romantic, and isn’t it just the most divine little vampire you ever did see? The hype is mad now yes, but don’t turn around and act like you never thought it was that great, ‘cause there was a time when you did. I know because you told me so...repeatedly. Although I am of the school of obligated obsession, where I feel I owe it to my obsessions to actually do certain things, even if I may not be obsessing over it anymore…I always maintain some kernel of (perhaps misplaced) loyalty.

Facebook status’ aside, what’s new? Nothing? Nothing. Planning a trip to Melbourne for the end of March since all the signposts of sanity point firmly away from mad cross-continental weekend dashes. Oh, maybe New Zealand? Will see.

Two nights have been spent well past 2am. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

Reached conclusion I was wrong about the entire universe having Twitter, not one single person I know (cept fellow bloggers) have it. Further proof that I occupy a different universe entirely from my peers. As I was saying to mum yesterday while paging through a Cosmo in line at the supermarket while she tried to convince me not to buy it (for the record, I didn’t), I need to read magazines like this so I know what the normal people are doing. I live in a bubble.

We were being right tools in the supermarkets actually, come to think of it. She kept saying we needed to buy rump steak, and I kept saying “Why do we need to buy rum? Is the rum gone? Why is the rum always gone?”…then when they didn’t have any rump, we got porterhouse instead, which then led to me nattering on about not wanting port. We may also have stood in the biscuit aisle arguing over the merits of the crime scene cookie. We also tend to push and shove each other quite a lot. I also read aloud from the aforementioned Cosmo from 'conversations every daughter should have with her mother' or something like that except I was answering all the questions for her anyway, since I knew them all. Let it just be said we earn more than a few weird looks.

Again I’d like to point out people really shouldn’t be so surprised that I turned out the way I did.

It is February. Shit. I am starting Chapter 4 of Soliloquy now.

I have another pseudo-rant but I figure I’ll just bottle that one up for now.

Further updates as events [aka boredom and restlessness] warrant.

Music: My Skin - Natalie Merchant
Mood: Lethargic

Here there be monsters

I spent most of yesterday sorting out the EPIC MESS that was my favourites folder. It was both amusing, frustrating, and perplexing. I often found I had no idea why I had even bookmarked some of this stuff in the first place - for example a search for "non-isometric" on Deviant Art. Um, what? I have serious issues. Abs can attest to this since I was clearly a bit loopy by 2am and was declaring my evil overlord status and doing the [virtual] can-can. It's all fun and games until your head explodes.

I did however discover the joys of iGoogle. And all the favourites are also adequately culled and back in nice folders now. It's sort of sad how content that makes me. Organisation my old friend!

A pressing question came up as I was doing this - does everyone in the entire universe have Twitter? I had an account but much like the myspace trend, I appear to be missing something. I find it funny considering I used to bombard my facebook status, then I decided to pull back a little since I figured people didn’t actually want to know when I was putting on my shoes. But things like Twitter are built around the notion that yes, it would appear that people do indeed want to know this...or that at least you want them to know it. Isn’t that just a teensy tiny bit narcissistic? Then again, I have a blog. I am under the delusion someone might care to read every miniscule rambling detail of my insignificant existence (which I realise is not what blogs were originally created) that I so eagerly record. So hey, perhaps the 21st century is destined to be the age of the narcissist.

Torchwood: Children of Earth will air in America on the same day as the UK, meaning American audiences will have almost no lag time in seeing the series. [from here]

Oh, and what century do you think us lonely sods here near Antarctica will get it? No one cares? Ah. Surprise.

I hate everywhere else.

You know what’s funny, I started this whole prompt/flash fiction business to spur on my creative productivity. Then Abs picked it up, and everyone then picked it up from her. So pretty much everyone has done more flash prompts than I have…and I’m the one who began the whole thing. Funny how life works sometimes. I really must get into that and stick to it *shakes fist at self*

“To be nobody but yourself-in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you somebody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.” [e.e. Cummings]

Ha. I read the strangest review of 'Folie a Deux' in the Sunday paper the other day, it commented on the fact that there were guest artists along the lines of “Elvis Costello, and Panic at the Disco’s Brendon Urie.” As if it’s strange that Brendon should be on a FOB record. I wouldn’t have thought it even needed mentioning.

Today I purchased the first season of Life on Mars (the real one) for it was on sale. Give me a sale, and I shall entertain my whims without second thought.

I think I'm going on a road trip to Palm Beach on Wednesday. Should be interesting as long as I don't get us all killed in a fiery car wreck. Still, any adventure is better than none at all I suppose.

Music: Red Right Hand - The Arctic Monkeys
Mood: Nerdy