Would you come for a drive?
You can lean into me
If you ain't been in love for a while
Music: Mae - The Gaslight Anthem
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Faded jeans and faraway eyes
Long, frantic day featuring a photo shoot, proofs and articles. Only thing I wanted to do when I left was take my dog to the beach and just chill for a bit.
Would you come for a drive?
You can lean into me
If you ain't been in love for a while
Music: Mae - The Gaslight Anthem
Would you come for a drive?
You can lean into me
If you ain't been in love for a while
Music: Mae - The Gaslight Anthem
Monday, November 19, 2012
The pros and cons of leaving
My lungs are staging a mutiny. I fear that I am yet again going to be taking home a chest infection as my main souvenir from London. We clearly have an abusive relationship.
I've finally made my peace with going home - not much to be done about it after all, everything has been settled now. I can only resign myself to my fate. Had my last day on Friday followed by leaving drinks and some overenthusiastic karaoke. We were all out again last night as well - completely mental.
Things I am looking forward to:
> Seeing my dog again
> Getting a huge hug from the parentals
> Beach!
> Going to the hairdresser for the first time in basically a year
And so on and so forth. There are some definite pros to this going home business. I just have so much shit to sort out though, sort of makes me want to curl into a ball and cry. Not only for finalising things over here but also for getting organised back home - for example, how to get to work? Gah.
In other news, love this song...
He's already on the outskirts
I'm still pulling at his sweatshirt
He says, fate is not a factor
I'm in love with every actor
Music: Want it back - Amanda Palmer
I've finally made my peace with going home - not much to be done about it after all, everything has been settled now. I can only resign myself to my fate. Had my last day on Friday followed by leaving drinks and some overenthusiastic karaoke. We were all out again last night as well - completely mental.
Things I am looking forward to:
> Seeing my dog again
> Getting a huge hug from the parentals
> Beach!
> Going to the hairdresser for the first time in basically a year
And so on and so forth. There are some definite pros to this going home business. I just have so much shit to sort out though, sort of makes me want to curl into a ball and cry. Not only for finalising things over here but also for getting organised back home - for example, how to get to work? Gah.
In other news, love this song...
He's already on the outskirts
I'm still pulling at his sweatshirt
He says, fate is not a factor
I'm in love with every actor
Music: Want it back - Amanda Palmer
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Ain’t it just like the present, to be showing up like this
Homesickness set in this month. Although I’m not entirely sure if ‘homesickness’ is the right word for it. I’ve been homesick before – when we first moved to Australia, I struggled a lot with letting go. It resulted in depressive episodes where all I wanted to do was sleep and ‘home’ was a weight, dragging me down ever further.
This feeling I have now…it’s different. It’s like a song being played in an empty auditorium, the final note hanging in the air long after playing has ceased. The echoes of home lingers in my blood, sings through my veins in a longing that is practically magnetic – pulling me back to where I belong.
That is not to say I don’t like London, I do. Especially in moments like the one I had on Tuesday night after I attended the production of Henry V at the Globe Theatre. Walking back to Waterloo station along South Bank was perfection – a balmy summer night with the city all lit up on the banks of the river, it was magical. In moments like those, moments I mostly experience here when I am near the river, I love this city. I love everything it is, its complications and contradictions. All its history and all its pride. It’s flawed and it’s beautiful.
But it was also in that moment that I realised that it wasn’t enough. I love London, but not as much as I miss home.
In comparison, Sydney may lack many things. It’s so much smaller, so much less sophisticated. Its history is negligible, its culture practically insignificant next to a force like London. We don’t have the same level of access to music, fashion, art. We are miles away from anything, no quick trip to Paris for the weekend for us.
But god how I miss it.
I miss the summer. I miss lying in my hammock in the garden, reading and slowly melting. I miss the incessant noise of the cicadas. I miss being able to go to the beach whenever I feel like it, and the feeling of sand between my toes. I miss driving. The late nights speeding along the M5 home, blasting my music way too loudly. And the bush, the smell of eucalyptus heavy in the air. I miss the blistering heat, the humidity that makes moving too much effort and how I’d spend those days on the couch with dad just watching Top Gear. Those days when you think you’ll spontaneously catch fire just by stepping outside. And though it’s kind of wrong, I miss the smell of smoke, blowing in from some bushfire somewhere.
I miss the extremity of nature. The ups and the downs. And I miss the city. I miss catching the train to Town Hall simply because I miss emerging from the tunnel at Circular Quay and seeing the harbour glittering in the sunshine - the way the sun plays across the water and the wind catches the flags on the Harbour Bridge. I miss that feeling I used to get whenever I emerged from that tunnel, that weird swell of pride because, damn, it’s a beautiful city.
And I miss my family. I miss joking around with my dad, though he often drives me insane. I miss the hours-long heart-to-hearts with my mum – Skype is just not quite the same. I miss my dog, oh so much more than I can even explain. I miss going for walks around the lake every evening. I miss just lying in bed with Oreo curled up beside me. I miss her happiness at seeing me whenever I get home. I guess I miss feeling that wanted and needed and loved all the time. And completely superficially, I miss my room, my wardrobe, my books, my dvds, my study, my graphics tablet, my theory notes.
I’ve learnt a lot about myself these past seven months I’ve been gone. As one would expect from travelling, and from being away from home. I’ve learnt that I am a lot more self-sufficient than I anticipated, that I can cope with sharing space with other people a lot better than I thought I would. I’ve learned that I’m not a spoilt princess of an only child, that my parents have raised me well-prepared for things. I’ve learned that I can co-habit with a bunch of boys, that I can handle being completely broke, that I can go hungry and not complain, that I can deal with not getting my own way. I’ve learned that all relationships require work and communication, and that if someone can’t show you that you matter to them, they’re not worth your time. I’ve learned that some friendships are superficial and sometimes what I think is communality is really just affectation.
There are other things, of course. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. And I think, overall, I’ve done well and I am quite proud of myself, silly though it may sound.
In that sense, part of me feels like there isn’t really that much for me back home - there are moments when I don’t want to leave here at all, but in the same turn I don’t really feel like there is much for me here either. I’ve done a lot of self-reflection over the past week and it simply comes down to what I want out of life.
You’d think at almost 25 I would have sorted this out by now, but I haven’t. Though I do I feel like I have gotten closer this year. In basic terms, there are two things I want:
And people may scoff and dismiss it as nothing, but I’ve always been acutely self-aware and I know in my heart, more certain after this year than I’ve ever been before, that there will be no happiness for me in convention. And isn’t that what life is supposed to be, “the pursuit of happiness”?
It’s sort of terrifying to make the decision to follow this path, to commit to it (Fuck Plan B as Amanda Palmer would say) but I feel like I’m finally strong enough for it. And the fear, the hollow feeling in my stomach that comes from knowing that no one (except my mum) understands, is just something I need to stare down. Because fear cannot rule your life.
So having come to this realisation, I had to ask myself where I need to be…and it’s not here. As much as I enjoy London, as I enjoy being close to people who are important to me, this is not where my destiny is.
Yes, yes, I know it sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous. Destiny. Talk about sounding delusional…not to mention conceited. But bear with me here, cause it’s hard to put words to the chasing of a shadow. I know, I know, there is something out there for me, I just need to allow myself to find it. Happiness, not boredom or submission.
So it makes sense to pursue the first of my goals – a PhD. I can’t stay here, can’t put it off for a year, because the longer I put it off the less likely it is to happen. Life has a way of sweeping us along after all, and time is going alarming quickly for me these days. No, I’d like a PhD before I’m 30. That would be good. And it would be better if I could study in New Zealand because another thing I’ve learned about myself this year is that I’m not really a city girl at all, not the way I thought I was.
My life has sort of emptied out this year but in some strange way it’s also become more defined. And it’s not going to be easy, but I feel like I have to try.
Music: Blood bank - Bon Iver
This feeling I have now…it’s different. It’s like a song being played in an empty auditorium, the final note hanging in the air long after playing has ceased. The echoes of home lingers in my blood, sings through my veins in a longing that is practically magnetic – pulling me back to where I belong.
That is not to say I don’t like London, I do. Especially in moments like the one I had on Tuesday night after I attended the production of Henry V at the Globe Theatre. Walking back to Waterloo station along South Bank was perfection – a balmy summer night with the city all lit up on the banks of the river, it was magical. In moments like those, moments I mostly experience here when I am near the river, I love this city. I love everything it is, its complications and contradictions. All its history and all its pride. It’s flawed and it’s beautiful.
But it was also in that moment that I realised that it wasn’t enough. I love London, but not as much as I miss home.
In comparison, Sydney may lack many things. It’s so much smaller, so much less sophisticated. Its history is negligible, its culture practically insignificant next to a force like London. We don’t have the same level of access to music, fashion, art. We are miles away from anything, no quick trip to Paris for the weekend for us.
But god how I miss it.
I miss the summer. I miss lying in my hammock in the garden, reading and slowly melting. I miss the incessant noise of the cicadas. I miss being able to go to the beach whenever I feel like it, and the feeling of sand between my toes. I miss driving. The late nights speeding along the M5 home, blasting my music way too loudly. And the bush, the smell of eucalyptus heavy in the air. I miss the blistering heat, the humidity that makes moving too much effort and how I’d spend those days on the couch with dad just watching Top Gear. Those days when you think you’ll spontaneously catch fire just by stepping outside. And though it’s kind of wrong, I miss the smell of smoke, blowing in from some bushfire somewhere.
I miss the extremity of nature. The ups and the downs. And I miss the city. I miss catching the train to Town Hall simply because I miss emerging from the tunnel at Circular Quay and seeing the harbour glittering in the sunshine - the way the sun plays across the water and the wind catches the flags on the Harbour Bridge. I miss that feeling I used to get whenever I emerged from that tunnel, that weird swell of pride because, damn, it’s a beautiful city.
And I miss my family. I miss joking around with my dad, though he often drives me insane. I miss the hours-long heart-to-hearts with my mum – Skype is just not quite the same. I miss my dog, oh so much more than I can even explain. I miss going for walks around the lake every evening. I miss just lying in bed with Oreo curled up beside me. I miss her happiness at seeing me whenever I get home. I guess I miss feeling that wanted and needed and loved all the time. And completely superficially, I miss my room, my wardrobe, my books, my dvds, my study, my graphics tablet, my theory notes.
I’ve learnt a lot about myself these past seven months I’ve been gone. As one would expect from travelling, and from being away from home. I’ve learnt that I am a lot more self-sufficient than I anticipated, that I can cope with sharing space with other people a lot better than I thought I would. I’ve learned that I’m not a spoilt princess of an only child, that my parents have raised me well-prepared for things. I’ve learned that I can co-habit with a bunch of boys, that I can handle being completely broke, that I can go hungry and not complain, that I can deal with not getting my own way. I’ve learned that all relationships require work and communication, and that if someone can’t show you that you matter to them, they’re not worth your time. I’ve learned that some friendships are superficial and sometimes what I think is communality is really just affectation.
There are other things, of course. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. And I think, overall, I’ve done well and I am quite proud of myself, silly though it may sound.
In that sense, part of me feels like there isn’t really that much for me back home - there are moments when I don’t want to leave here at all, but in the same turn I don’t really feel like there is much for me here either. I’ve done a lot of self-reflection over the past week and it simply comes down to what I want out of life.
You’d think at almost 25 I would have sorted this out by now, but I haven’t. Though I do I feel like I have gotten closer this year. In basic terms, there are two things I want:
1. A PhDAnd maybe somehow, somewhere along the way, I’ll finally be able to write something that matters to someone. This may seem simplistic, and perhaps that’s true, but it is what it is. You might say it’s being naively whimsical – everyone wants to travel, but it isn’t practical. And that is the crux of my ambition. So-called normality holds no appeal for me. Nothing I say or do is a reflection on anyone else’s life choices; it’s just that it isn’t the right fit for me. That’s all.
2. To travel to world
And people may scoff and dismiss it as nothing, but I’ve always been acutely self-aware and I know in my heart, more certain after this year than I’ve ever been before, that there will be no happiness for me in convention. And isn’t that what life is supposed to be, “the pursuit of happiness”?
It’s sort of terrifying to make the decision to follow this path, to commit to it (Fuck Plan B as Amanda Palmer would say) but I feel like I’m finally strong enough for it. And the fear, the hollow feeling in my stomach that comes from knowing that no one (except my mum) understands, is just something I need to stare down. Because fear cannot rule your life.
So having come to this realisation, I had to ask myself where I need to be…and it’s not here. As much as I enjoy London, as I enjoy being close to people who are important to me, this is not where my destiny is.
Yes, yes, I know it sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous. Destiny. Talk about sounding delusional…not to mention conceited. But bear with me here, cause it’s hard to put words to the chasing of a shadow. I know, I know, there is something out there for me, I just need to allow myself to find it. Happiness, not boredom or submission.
So it makes sense to pursue the first of my goals – a PhD. I can’t stay here, can’t put it off for a year, because the longer I put it off the less likely it is to happen. Life has a way of sweeping us along after all, and time is going alarming quickly for me these days. No, I’d like a PhD before I’m 30. That would be good. And it would be better if I could study in New Zealand because another thing I’ve learned about myself this year is that I’m not really a city girl at all, not the way I thought I was.
My life has sort of emptied out this year but in some strange way it’s also become more defined. And it’s not going to be easy, but I feel like I have to try.
Music: Blood bank - Bon Iver
Monday, May 28, 2012
Adventures in Fangirling
The great thing about Europe is that travelling from one country to another is not the arduous, logistical nightmare it is back home. So it was entirely possible for Kat, a friend from Spiders Group (for those not in the know, that’s my writing group back home that I shamefully under-attend), to come over from Germany for the weekend. I forget how it all came about – we were talking on twitter one minute and planning the next. And I admit there was potential for it to be weird cause we didn’t really know each other that well (due to my aforementioned under-attendance) but turns out that was just my social awkwardness manifesting – it was totally not an issue. To use the descriptive prowess of Arthur Shappey, the weekend was, in one word, brilliant!
Things didn’t start ideally with her flight being delayed, but we were not to be put off and met up Friday evening all the same for dinner and a wander around town. We walked a lot. No, really. I cannot stress this enough. With the weather playing along, delivering blissful sunshine all weekend, it was really nice to soak up the vibe in the centre of town – everyone is just so happy and life spills onto sidewalks, it’s really just a whole different buzz around here when things heat up. Kat exercised some magnificent self-restraint in not purchasing bags, tea pots and other awesome things. She is to be commended, really. The day ended with us being foot-weary and sleepy, but I thought it was a really good effort on our parts.
Alas, I was working on Saturday and while I was slaving away (read: staring into space), Kat was off enjoying Camden markets (I warned her about the corsets, let it not be said I didn’t) and we eventually met up at Euston Square. Why, you might ask? Well, when the opportunity presents itself to indulge in your beloved fandoms, it is the duty of every self-respecting fangirl to make the most of it. As we’re both avid Sherlock fans, we were honour bound to put our fangirl game faces on and see all the things! So naturally we went to Speedy’s Café.
You don’t need to be a consulting detective to see where this weekend was heading. Our wanderings around town took us to Baker Street, New Scotland Yard, St Barts, The British Academy (aka the Diogenes Club) and Eaton Square (aka Irene Adler’s house and, as Kat astutely observed, the location for the house in Upstairs, Downstairs.)
Of course we also fitted in other things such as visiting awesome bookshops like Daunt on Marylebone High Street, stumbling onto street markets, cooing over amazing things in obscure little shops and rummaging around vintage shops (where we may or may not both have exclaimed “It’s a John sweater!” at the same time. We are cool like that.) Obviously, I also had to take her to Forbidden Planet – what sort of fangirl would I be if I didn’t? There was also much indulging in Starbucks frappuccinos and some pretty hilarious people watching.
During our shenanigans, we realised that along with sharing a passion for Sherlock, Who, Black Books and all things British, we also both really, really like cars. Cue two hours wandering around Chelsea and Kensington sports car spotting, also known by the game title of ‘How many Aston Martins can you find on one street?’ This wasn’t really the aim, but it turns out there are an obscene amount of Astons around so it sort of just happened.
We decided to take it easy on Sunday and had a late start at St Pauls, before wandering across the Millennium Bridge and along the south bank. Here then we came to the crowning glory of this weekend of fandom as the BAFTA Television Awards were on and they were still handing out wristbands for people to watch the red carpet. Like we’d miss such an opportunity!
We actually found a really lovely beer garden to chill in for a bit before it was time to stake our claim in the fenced off area next to the “red” carpet. This was the most painful part but thanks to my handy umbrella, word games we’re equally terrible at and Starbuck’s frappuccino happy hour, we managed to survive with minimal discomfort. There were some moments of barely suppressed rage when other people got pushy and annoying, but such is the way of the line-up. In retrospect, I choose not to waste my energy on that because we actually did really well for ourselves…
After cooling down with the help of pear cider, we giddily skipped off across Waterloo Bridge in a happy blur of adrenaline and eventually collapsed in St James’ Park, just as the last echoes of daylight faded from the sky. We didn’t want to call it a night but it was 10pm on a Sunday, there wasn’t much else to do. It was really quite sad to farewell Kat and wish her well on her merry way back to Heidelberg. Sigh.
So! Overall verdict: the weekend was quite the successful adventure and definitely one to remember.
PS: Let the record show that Joe Gilgun is frowning in that pic cause he is confused by the copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Kat has given him to sign - "What am I signing?"
Music: Qikitarjuaq - Cabin Pressure
Things didn’t start ideally with her flight being delayed, but we were not to be put off and met up Friday evening all the same for dinner and a wander around town. We walked a lot. No, really. I cannot stress this enough. With the weather playing along, delivering blissful sunshine all weekend, it was really nice to soak up the vibe in the centre of town – everyone is just so happy and life spills onto sidewalks, it’s really just a whole different buzz around here when things heat up. Kat exercised some magnificent self-restraint in not purchasing bags, tea pots and other awesome things. She is to be commended, really. The day ended with us being foot-weary and sleepy, but I thought it was a really good effort on our parts.
Alas, I was working on Saturday and while I was slaving away (read: staring into space), Kat was off enjoying Camden markets (I warned her about the corsets, let it not be said I didn’t) and we eventually met up at Euston Square. Why, you might ask? Well, when the opportunity presents itself to indulge in your beloved fandoms, it is the duty of every self-respecting fangirl to make the most of it. As we’re both avid Sherlock fans, we were honour bound to put our fangirl game faces on and see all the things! So naturally we went to Speedy’s Café.
You don’t need to be a consulting detective to see where this weekend was heading. Our wanderings around town took us to Baker Street, New Scotland Yard, St Barts, The British Academy (aka the Diogenes Club) and Eaton Square (aka Irene Adler’s house and, as Kat astutely observed, the location for the house in Upstairs, Downstairs.)
 |
| Pavement of angst, anyone? |
During our shenanigans, we realised that along with sharing a passion for Sherlock, Who, Black Books and all things British, we also both really, really like cars. Cue two hours wandering around Chelsea and Kensington sports car spotting, also known by the game title of ‘How many Aston Martins can you find on one street?’ This wasn’t really the aim, but it turns out there are an obscene amount of Astons around so it sort of just happened.
 |
| Did I mention the weather was glorious? Because it was. |
We actually found a really lovely beer garden to chill in for a bit before it was time to stake our claim in the fenced off area next to the “red” carpet. This was the most painful part but thanks to my handy umbrella, word games we’re equally terrible at and Starbuck’s frappuccino happy hour, we managed to survive with minimal discomfort. There were some moments of barely suppressed rage when other people got pushy and annoying, but such is the way of the line-up. In retrospect, I choose not to waste my energy on that because we actually did really well for ourselves…
 |
| If I can only have one caption, let it be said that Andrew Scott is just too adorable for words. |
Yup. Surely you can imagine how absolutely epic this was. Kat was blessed by Mark Gatiss, her writing idol. The only way the day could have gone better is if Benedict actually came to our little section – but the poor guy was obviously melting and so desperate to run away, you can’t fault him for doing just that. And now, hilariously, we can be found in the back corner of a lot of BAFTA footage, craning our necks and bouncing around, since we were right across from the cameras.
After cooling down with the help of pear cider, we giddily skipped off across Waterloo Bridge in a happy blur of adrenaline and eventually collapsed in St James’ Park, just as the last echoes of daylight faded from the sky. We didn’t want to call it a night but it was 10pm on a Sunday, there wasn’t much else to do. It was really quite sad to farewell Kat and wish her well on her merry way back to Heidelberg. Sigh.
So! Overall verdict: the weekend was quite the successful adventure and definitely one to remember.
PS: Let the record show that Joe Gilgun is frowning in that pic cause he is confused by the copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Kat has given him to sign - "What am I signing?"
Music: Qikitarjuaq - Cabin Pressure
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Dreaming what I'm thinking
Stop press! Summer has come to London, for one week only! Step right up and make the most of it while you can.
Well okay, maybe I am being a tad dramatic...anyway, who knows if the promised week of good weather will even happen (previous experience favours answers in the negative), but today was actually nice and sunny, with the forecast predicting at least five days of much the same early to mid-twenty temps. Not hot exactly, but a definite improvement over the 12 degrees of last week.
Funnily enough, London is an entirely different place when the weather's nice. People seem to undergo some sort of Jekyll and Hyde transformation, where under the sun's watchful gaze they suddenly turn compliant and friendly. Even the giant clusterfuck that was the state of Waterloo this eve could not dampen their spirits.
Being entirely in love with summer, I of course joined in almost instantly. Despite my co-workers all carrying on about how hot it was this morning (I still had my scarf with me and the heater on, so you know, we're just going to have to agree to disagree on what actually constitutes hot. For future reference, it's anything over 30.) I spent lunch sitting in the local park with one of the guys which obviously ruined productivity for the rest of the day as only sitting in the sun can. Then one of the managers had the bright idea to go for an ice-cream run - cue the entire office devouring ice-cream cones and grinning like a bunch of school kids getting an early mark. Absolute insanity. But quite fun, so I'm not complaining.
In other news, I'm terribly homesick at the moment. The sunshine has gone some way to mitigate that, but still. Mope. At least there are things to look forward to, such as the weekly Game of Thrones eve with Abbi and Paul, and a friend from my writer's group back home is in town this weekend so we're going to hang out and fangirl like there's no tomorrow. And next month, another friend from home is over for a couple of days. I've seen so many people since I've been here. Crazy small world is crazy.
Currently trying to decide if I can be bothered making dinner. I don't think I can, but I do sort of need to eat. So cheese toast? Followed by Homeland? I've heard good things about it (well, Damien Lewis, how can it be bad?) so I got the first couple of eps and I suppose now that I've finished The Hour (amazingly, awesome, brilliant show - love) and Downton Abbey (needs more Sybil/Branson, come on), it's as good a time to start as any.
Right then. Plan. Food. Go. Here's hoping my house mate has actually washed his dishes tonight...
Music: She's a rebel - Green Day
Well okay, maybe I am being a tad dramatic...anyway, who knows if the promised week of good weather will even happen (previous experience favours answers in the negative), but today was actually nice and sunny, with the forecast predicting at least five days of much the same early to mid-twenty temps. Not hot exactly, but a definite improvement over the 12 degrees of last week.
Funnily enough, London is an entirely different place when the weather's nice. People seem to undergo some sort of Jekyll and Hyde transformation, where under the sun's watchful gaze they suddenly turn compliant and friendly. Even the giant clusterfuck that was the state of Waterloo this eve could not dampen their spirits.
Being entirely in love with summer, I of course joined in almost instantly. Despite my co-workers all carrying on about how hot it was this morning (I still had my scarf with me and the heater on, so you know, we're just going to have to agree to disagree on what actually constitutes hot. For future reference, it's anything over 30.) I spent lunch sitting in the local park with one of the guys which obviously ruined productivity for the rest of the day as only sitting in the sun can. Then one of the managers had the bright idea to go for an ice-cream run - cue the entire office devouring ice-cream cones and grinning like a bunch of school kids getting an early mark. Absolute insanity. But quite fun, so I'm not complaining.
In other news, I'm terribly homesick at the moment. The sunshine has gone some way to mitigate that, but still. Mope. At least there are things to look forward to, such as the weekly Game of Thrones eve with Abbi and Paul, and a friend from my writer's group back home is in town this weekend so we're going to hang out and fangirl like there's no tomorrow. And next month, another friend from home is over for a couple of days. I've seen so many people since I've been here. Crazy small world is crazy.
Currently trying to decide if I can be bothered making dinner. I don't think I can, but I do sort of need to eat. So cheese toast? Followed by Homeland? I've heard good things about it (well, Damien Lewis, how can it be bad?) so I got the first couple of eps and I suppose now that I've finished The Hour (amazingly, awesome, brilliant show - love) and Downton Abbey (needs more Sybil/Branson, come on), it's as good a time to start as any.
Right then. Plan. Food. Go. Here's hoping my house mate has actually washed his dishes tonight...
Music: She's a rebel - Green Day
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Surf's up
So, in case you’re not up to speed, Australia is the new hell. Come one, come all, we’ve got your disasters and plagues covered! Locusts, floods, whatever takes your fancy. Again I feel I have to say that this country just doesn’t want humans here. It tries to scare us off all the time, but we just don't listen. You'd think the spiders and snakes would do the trick, but there you go. Poor Queensland. Just what they needed – more rain. Not sure what they did, but they sure pissed off mother nature somehow.
At the risk of stating the obvious, this is one huge tropical cyclone. Saw some mention on twitter that its eye is 35km. Category 5. They’re expecting winds of over 300km/h and swells of up to 7m. Pretty much the entire northern part of Queensland has shut down. Hope there aren’t any ships out there, that’d be nasty. (Understatement alert.)
In keeping with our new hellish reputation, it’s been sweltering in Sydney town the last couple of days. Yesterday we clocked 42°C at work, and it was still 39.8°C when I got home at 6.30 (after coaxing a near death Jack home, I might add. That car does not cope well with the heat and traffic. I’ve got Martha today, so at least I have an airconditioner that works when stationary.) I don’t really mind the heat as long as I don’t have to do anything in it – lying in my hammock on the deck, great! Moving or walking anywhere, not so much. Sleeping has been the most problematic. I just haven’t been doing much of it. Oh, I try, but it’s a long process and when I do actually fall asleep, I have such weird dreams. I don’t remember the details, but I remember that they’re weird.
In news not related to the weather, I’ve written over 5,000 words in the last 24 hours. Yay! Creativity! All on Amped, which is great. I’ve missed those kids. Shockingly, it’s already February, and before I go back to uni I still have to write more on Silver & Silent, and write an essay. Running out of time! As always. Eh. I’ll just have to fit it in...somehow.
 |
| Cyclone Yasi...what a stupid name. Why can't we give them mean wrestling names, like The Destroyer or Maximum Extreme or something. |
At the risk of stating the obvious, this is one huge tropical cyclone. Saw some mention on twitter that its eye is 35km. Category 5. They’re expecting winds of over 300km/h and swells of up to 7m. Pretty much the entire northern part of Queensland has shut down. Hope there aren’t any ships out there, that’d be nasty. (Understatement alert.)
In keeping with our new hellish reputation, it’s been sweltering in Sydney town the last couple of days. Yesterday we clocked 42°C at work, and it was still 39.8°C when I got home at 6.30 (after coaxing a near death Jack home, I might add. That car does not cope well with the heat and traffic. I’ve got Martha today, so at least I have an airconditioner that works when stationary.) I don’t really mind the heat as long as I don’t have to do anything in it – lying in my hammock on the deck, great! Moving or walking anywhere, not so much. Sleeping has been the most problematic. I just haven’t been doing much of it. Oh, I try, but it’s a long process and when I do actually fall asleep, I have such weird dreams. I don’t remember the details, but I remember that they’re weird.
In news not related to the weather, I’ve written over 5,000 words in the last 24 hours. Yay! Creativity! All on Amped, which is great. I’ve missed those kids. Shockingly, it’s already February, and before I go back to uni I still have to write more on Silver & Silent, and write an essay. Running out of time! As always. Eh. I’ll just have to fit it in...somehow.
Music: Derezzed - Daft Punk
Monday, January 17, 2011
Heart speeds up endlessly
You know, life's pretty fabulous at the moment. Even though it's Monday, the start of another dreary, repetitive work week, I'm feeling rather chipper. I guess a good weekend will do that to you.
It all kicked off on Friday when a group of us girls from work went out to dinner at a gorgeous tapas place at Walsh Bay. I wasn't particularly keen but it turned out to be really enjoyable, and it was nice to get to spend more time with them, seeing as I am always in my little office on my own. They invited me along to clubbing the following night, but as I already had plans with M and R during the day, I didn't think I'd make it – correctly too, as it turned out.
We three had made tentative plans to go to the beach – of course this meant that it was overcast and rainy. Just our luck! I picked up my glasses and did a bit of shopping before meeting them at R's place and heading out to lunch and movie watching. When all else fails, there is always movie watching. We saw Morning Glory, in which Rachel McAdams plays an excruciatingly awkward producer for a breakfast tv show and Harrison Ford plays himself. Ok not really, but by all reports he is just as cranky in real life. It has quite a few good laughs and I know there was one point where the three of us were giggling uncontrollably, but I have to say that the awkwardness at the start of it is so painful to watch. We spent the evening watching tv and R finally got to see the first two eps of Sherlock. I think she's coming round to my Cumberbatch appreciation.
Sunday, we were off to the farm. Four girls piled into M's car, and we set off to Exeter. It was beyond lovely. In fact, I could never even have anticipated how lovely a day it was. Mind you, why M puts up with us, I don't know. We were so bratty, asking whether we could stop for ice cream, doubting her sense of direction and generally just whining about her not stopping at McDonalds. Kids have nothing on us! We got to the farm around midday, gathered all the supplies in the 4WDs and set off to the spot where A and his friends had camped the previous night.
After getting a fire going, the mistake was made of putting me and R in charge of turning the meat over – in our defence, it was already burnt by the time we got down there to turn it over the first time. Not our fault *cough* We relaxed, ate, stopped complaining about hungry we were, sweltered in the heat, laughed, chatted and played Uno. As you do. Once R and A had quite enough of arguing about rules and winning, we set off to feed the cows. Here's where we learnt a valuable lesson – hay, like sand, gets everywhere. We also learnt R doesn't particularly like cows very much – at least not when they're circling the truck, demanding to be fed. Well, as demanding as they can be, they're a skittish lot.
Anyway, it was really fun and relaxing. I have a faint sunburn to remind me of it. I definitely won't pass up to opportunity to head out there again. See, country air is good for you, even if that means you don't have any reception.
A's friends had a pit bike down there with them and I've pretty much decided to buy one. It's a small off-roader, a mini dirt bike really, obviously not for road use, but seeing as I just want to learn how to manage the gears and such, I don't see why it wouldn't work. It's much cheaper than a full-sized bike, and also has the benefit of being a lot closer to the ground when I fall off it. I've seen them around before and always thought they were kids' bikes, haha. I'm looking for a second hand one (apparently you can get them for around $300) with little luck so far, so I'll ask the Blink Revival Crew for help and opinions this afternoon. I'm a bit careful about it because I don't want to buy something that needs to be fixed up – while I'm sure dad will love it, Jack requires all the funds I have for mechanical extracurriculars, I can't work on a bike as well. Speaking of Jack, he needs new brake pads. You see, there's always something.
Right, so, back to work for me. I spent an insubordinate amount of money this weekend. Not sure how I managed that, but I better start behaving!
Music: Everything's magic - Angels & Airwaves
It all kicked off on Friday when a group of us girls from work went out to dinner at a gorgeous tapas place at Walsh Bay. I wasn't particularly keen but it turned out to be really enjoyable, and it was nice to get to spend more time with them, seeing as I am always in my little office on my own. They invited me along to clubbing the following night, but as I already had plans with M and R during the day, I didn't think I'd make it – correctly too, as it turned out.
We three had made tentative plans to go to the beach – of course this meant that it was overcast and rainy. Just our luck! I picked up my glasses and did a bit of shopping before meeting them at R's place and heading out to lunch and movie watching. When all else fails, there is always movie watching. We saw Morning Glory, in which Rachel McAdams plays an excruciatingly awkward producer for a breakfast tv show and Harrison Ford plays himself. Ok not really, but by all reports he is just as cranky in real life. It has quite a few good laughs and I know there was one point where the three of us were giggling uncontrollably, but I have to say that the awkwardness at the start of it is so painful to watch. We spent the evening watching tv and R finally got to see the first two eps of Sherlock. I think she's coming round to my Cumberbatch appreciation.
Sunday, we were off to the farm. Four girls piled into M's car, and we set off to Exeter. It was beyond lovely. In fact, I could never even have anticipated how lovely a day it was. Mind you, why M puts up with us, I don't know. We were so bratty, asking whether we could stop for ice cream, doubting her sense of direction and generally just whining about her not stopping at McDonalds. Kids have nothing on us! We got to the farm around midday, gathered all the supplies in the 4WDs and set off to the spot where A and his friends had camped the previous night.
After getting a fire going, the mistake was made of putting me and R in charge of turning the meat over – in our defence, it was already burnt by the time we got down there to turn it over the first time. Not our fault *cough* We relaxed, ate, stopped complaining about hungry we were, sweltered in the heat, laughed, chatted and played Uno. As you do. Once R and A had quite enough of arguing about rules and winning, we set off to feed the cows. Here's where we learnt a valuable lesson – hay, like sand, gets everywhere. We also learnt R doesn't particularly like cows very much – at least not when they're circling the truck, demanding to be fed. Well, as demanding as they can be, they're a skittish lot.
Anyway, it was really fun and relaxing. I have a faint sunburn to remind me of it. I definitely won't pass up to opportunity to head out there again. See, country air is good for you, even if that means you don't have any reception.
 |
| Nice day for a picnic |
 |
| Cow goes mooooo! |
 |
| Right, who's rounding up the cattle? |
A's friends had a pit bike down there with them and I've pretty much decided to buy one. It's a small off-roader, a mini dirt bike really, obviously not for road use, but seeing as I just want to learn how to manage the gears and such, I don't see why it wouldn't work. It's much cheaper than a full-sized bike, and also has the benefit of being a lot closer to the ground when I fall off it. I've seen them around before and always thought they were kids' bikes, haha. I'm looking for a second hand one (apparently you can get them for around $300) with little luck so far, so I'll ask the Blink Revival Crew for help and opinions this afternoon. I'm a bit careful about it because I don't want to buy something that needs to be fixed up – while I'm sure dad will love it, Jack requires all the funds I have for mechanical extracurriculars, I can't work on a bike as well. Speaking of Jack, he needs new brake pads. You see, there's always something.
Right, so, back to work for me. I spent an insubordinate amount of money this weekend. Not sure how I managed that, but I better start behaving!
Music: Everything's magic - Angels & Airwaves
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Right in front of us
Today, I am 23 years old. Imagine that. I've polled my friends and apparently it is still too early for a mid-life crisis, so I'll put that off for another couple of years. All in all, it's been a fabulous weekend. I feel very loved and grateful for everyone in my life - general good vibes for all!
Things kicked off on Friday night with Em. Dinner in Newtown followed by dessert at what has officially become my favourite cafe, and then on to the Factory for Cute is what we aim for. We wasted as much time as we could hoping to miss the opening bands, but this didn't quite work out and we still had to sit through two of them. Not that opening bands are terrible things to be avoided just...well, we're jaded, what can we say. We were both very taken aback by the age of the audience - on average they appeared to be about fourteen - and spent much time reminiscing about days when we were still that naive/excitable/embarrassing. Maybe not doing as much reminiscing as lamenting. Cute had undergone complete line-up changes in the five years since we'd first gotten into them, so we actually had no idea what the current band looked like and that in itself led to some amusement. It is fair to say neither of us had very high expectations, and it is also fair to say we were both very pleasantly surprised. It really was a wonderfully fun show, comprising of mostly first album songs we had been dying to hear. Shaant was channeling Tyson Ritter in his performance and he was completelymanic captivating. I still cannot believe how blue his eyes are. Jaw on floor. I have no idea who the rest of the band are, but they are all very good and the bass player is all sorts of adorable. As bass players inevitably seem to be. So yes, it may have been five years late, but it was a fun gig and well worth the wait.
I gathered the willing on Saturday morning for a road trip up the coast. Arguing with the GPS aside - "it's the scenic route!" - we arrived at a sunny, tranquil, very windy Palm Beach just in time for lunch. What followed was a lazy afternoon of sitting about, laughing (a lot), playing cards and taking far, far, faaaar too many photos. Memorable quotes include:
"I don't know what I use, I just walk in and some gay guy tells me to try this make-up and I say ok."
"I'm full." (Randomly interjected by Em as Roze and I were mid friendly disagreement)
"We have achieved our goals!"
"I'm so wise."
"It's a heli that copters!"
Hmm. These were all much funnier at the time. Anyway, following the blissful madness, we packed up and headed back to mine where we consumed yet more junk food (namely pringles and chocolate) and watched Beauty & the Beast. As you do.
As for my actual birthday, it has been very mellow and spent in the company of the parentals. We had a lovely brunch, and then mum and I spent much of the day shopping. I'm not one to make a big fuss over my birthday, and honestly, when I have these gorgeous laid-back weekends, I don't see why I should. It's much more me, isn't it?
Music: Existentialism on prom night - Straylight Run
Mood: Happy
Things kicked off on Friday night with Em. Dinner in Newtown followed by dessert at what has officially become my favourite cafe, and then on to the Factory for Cute is what we aim for. We wasted as much time as we could hoping to miss the opening bands, but this didn't quite work out and we still had to sit through two of them. Not that opening bands are terrible things to be avoided just...well, we're jaded, what can we say. We were both very taken aback by the age of the audience - on average they appeared to be about fourteen - and spent much time reminiscing about days when we were still that naive/excitable/embarrassing. Maybe not doing as much reminiscing as lamenting. Cute had undergone complete line-up changes in the five years since we'd first gotten into them, so we actually had no idea what the current band looked like and that in itself led to some amusement. It is fair to say neither of us had very high expectations, and it is also fair to say we were both very pleasantly surprised. It really was a wonderfully fun show, comprising of mostly first album songs we had been dying to hear. Shaant was channeling Tyson Ritter in his performance and he was completely
[from here]
I gathered the willing on Saturday morning for a road trip up the coast. Arguing with the GPS aside - "it's the scenic route!" - we arrived at a sunny, tranquil, very windy Palm Beach just in time for lunch. What followed was a lazy afternoon of sitting about, laughing (a lot), playing cards and taking far, far, faaaar too many photos. Memorable quotes include:
"I don't know what I use, I just walk in and some gay guy tells me to try this make-up and I say ok."
"I'm full." (Randomly interjected by Em as Roze and I were mid friendly disagreement)
"We have achieved our goals!"
"I'm so wise."
"It's a heli that copters!"
Hmm. These were all much funnier at the time. Anyway, following the blissful madness, we packed up and headed back to mine where we consumed yet more junk food (namely pringles and chocolate) and watched Beauty & the Beast. As you do.
It was so much fun. I'm glad that after years of wanting to do so, we finally managed to get to Palm Beach.
As for my actual birthday, it has been very mellow and spent in the company of the parentals. We had a lovely brunch, and then mum and I spent much of the day shopping. I'm not one to make a big fuss over my birthday, and honestly, when I have these gorgeous laid-back weekends, I don't see why I should. It's much more me, isn't it?
Once again, big thanks to everyone for all the kind messages. Now time for some more writing!
Music: Existentialism on prom night - Straylight Run
Mood: Happy
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Can't stop those kids from dancing
I know we've had a hot, beautiful summer this year but for some reason it just doesn't feel long enough to me. I was in the shops on the weekend noting the winter stock creeping in everywhere and I just can't believe it's that time already. I think on some level I somehow expected this summer to last forever. The worst part is I never even made it to the beach! I'm sure there are still a few warm days up autumn's sleeve, but it's just the last few rays before sundown. Still, at least I've begun to appreciate winter for its fashion options - I do love my jackets and scarves after all. I've already found two jackets to drool over. Hmmm jackets...
This week of course marked my return to uni, though now as an illustrious post grad student. Before I start the inevitable complaining, I just need to stress something. Over my uni career I have often lamented how little affinity I felt with the tertiary education system. All my life I wanted to go to university (well, from the first time I set foot in one at the age of 6), I've always been obsessed with knowledge and I loved the idea of this institution where people got together out of their own free will to pursue their interest. I went through school thinking that it didn't matter if I didn't feel like it fit, once I got to uni, everything would work out. Then I got to uni and it was nothing like that. I hated my first semester, and though I settled into a pattern that I was content with, I always regretted the fact that reality wasn't even close to the idea in my head.
Now, however, I realise that all of that was just a necessary evil to get to post graduate work where, though it is early days yet, I finally feel like I belong. I have never been so at ease with myself and others, so comfortable and confident. It's such a liberating feeling. It is just nice to be in an egalitarian environment where people are from such diverse backgrounds and interests, all genuinely collected there because they want to learn and grow, and all secure enough in themselves not be those grandstanding students who declare their opinion loudly on everything (aka people Admit it!!! was written for). I feel like finally, finally I have gotten what I've always wanted from an education system.
Also, it must be said I am so stupidly glad I did Honours. It is one of the best things I have done. I know I complained endlessly but even as I was doing the complaining, I knew in the back of my mind there would come a time when I recognised how useful it was...and certainly that time is already here. I may not be particularly well read in very recent theory or literary developments, and I'm certainly not as widely read as some of my classmates, but because of the seminars and research I completed for Honours, I am familiar with a wide selection of theorists and concepts, so much so that I no longer feel completely lost when people start bandying about French literary theory. To be honest, that feels fantastic (and I guess that's what should happen as your education progresses, I am actually just happy I'm finally retaining something.)
University however is still steeped in eccentricity and bureaucracy and so of course I reserve the right to complain. I've already had two visits to the student centre because it turns out my non-fiction class is exactly like the creative non-fiction class I took in my second year, right down to the readings, and it was suggested I apply for 'recognition of prior learning' so I am not bored to death. Now if I should get this, it means I only have two subjects this semester - critical writing, and advance narrative writing.
So, to conclude the round up of my first week, I've never been as happy at university as I am now, I love all my subjects, I'm calm and confident, I get compliments and I make people laugh. At the start of the year I thought I'd finally made peace with who I am, and maybe I have and that's translating into this, I don't know. All I know is that I'm happy, and I want it to last. I feel positive about this semester, it looks breezy and I am confident I can do well.
Night classes are going to take some getting used to, I'm sure new dinner schedules and waiting for trains will be refined as the weeks go on. There will also probably come a point where people fall into the pub after class. It also complicates my social life but c'est la vie.
Speaking of social life, I'm going to moonlight cinema on Friday to catch Breakfast at Tiffany's and I'm trying to rustle up some company to see the Sydney Theatre Company's production of Spring Awakening though I only have one day I could possibly see this. I have a friend's daughter's birthday to attend on Saturday and then Alice in Wonderland on Sunday. Rock and roll.
Now, random links.
- David Tennant is to play "half-dead military man" in new virus movie. Uh right.
- Here is a quite lovely random piece written by Redditor alukima about finding happiness
- Philip Palmer did a blog post on 'Avatar' which I found quite interesting. I think the notion of black-white morality might have been one of the reasons I found it hard to engage with the film.
- I don't know what's happening with this Google Books thing, but I love this Google Monster art.
- Finally, I trust everyone has seen the new OKGo video for 'This too shall pass'
Now I can either watch an episode of Buffy, or do some of my reading....hmm I'm sure you can imagine which is more likely.
Music: Blackadder
Mood: Working
This week of course marked my return to uni, though now as an illustrious post grad student. Before I start the inevitable complaining, I just need to stress something. Over my uni career I have often lamented how little affinity I felt with the tertiary education system. All my life I wanted to go to university (well, from the first time I set foot in one at the age of 6), I've always been obsessed with knowledge and I loved the idea of this institution where people got together out of their own free will to pursue their interest. I went through school thinking that it didn't matter if I didn't feel like it fit, once I got to uni, everything would work out. Then I got to uni and it was nothing like that. I hated my first semester, and though I settled into a pattern that I was content with, I always regretted the fact that reality wasn't even close to the idea in my head.
Now, however, I realise that all of that was just a necessary evil to get to post graduate work where, though it is early days yet, I finally feel like I belong. I have never been so at ease with myself and others, so comfortable and confident. It's such a liberating feeling. It is just nice to be in an egalitarian environment where people are from such diverse backgrounds and interests, all genuinely collected there because they want to learn and grow, and all secure enough in themselves not be those grandstanding students who declare their opinion loudly on everything (aka people Admit it!!! was written for). I feel like finally, finally I have gotten what I've always wanted from an education system.
Also, it must be said I am so stupidly glad I did Honours. It is one of the best things I have done. I know I complained endlessly but even as I was doing the complaining, I knew in the back of my mind there would come a time when I recognised how useful it was...and certainly that time is already here. I may not be particularly well read in very recent theory or literary developments, and I'm certainly not as widely read as some of my classmates, but because of the seminars and research I completed for Honours, I am familiar with a wide selection of theorists and concepts, so much so that I no longer feel completely lost when people start bandying about French literary theory. To be honest, that feels fantastic (and I guess that's what should happen as your education progresses, I am actually just happy I'm finally retaining something.)
University however is still steeped in eccentricity and bureaucracy and so of course I reserve the right to complain. I've already had two visits to the student centre because it turns out my non-fiction class is exactly like the creative non-fiction class I took in my second year, right down to the readings, and it was suggested I apply for 'recognition of prior learning' so I am not bored to death. Now if I should get this, it means I only have two subjects this semester - critical writing, and advance narrative writing.
So, to conclude the round up of my first week, I've never been as happy at university as I am now, I love all my subjects, I'm calm and confident, I get compliments and I make people laugh. At the start of the year I thought I'd finally made peace with who I am, and maybe I have and that's translating into this, I don't know. All I know is that I'm happy, and I want it to last. I feel positive about this semester, it looks breezy and I am confident I can do well.
Night classes are going to take some getting used to, I'm sure new dinner schedules and waiting for trains will be refined as the weeks go on. There will also probably come a point where people fall into the pub after class. It also complicates my social life but c'est la vie.
Speaking of social life, I'm going to moonlight cinema on Friday to catch Breakfast at Tiffany's and I'm trying to rustle up some company to see the Sydney Theatre Company's production of Spring Awakening though I only have one day I could possibly see this. I have a friend's daughter's birthday to attend on Saturday and then Alice in Wonderland on Sunday. Rock and roll.
Now, random links.
- David Tennant is to play "half-dead military man" in new virus movie. Uh right.
- Here is a quite lovely random piece written by Redditor alukima about finding happiness
- Philip Palmer did a blog post on 'Avatar' which I found quite interesting. I think the notion of black-white morality might have been one of the reasons I found it hard to engage with the film.
- I don't know what's happening with this Google Books thing, but I love this Google Monster art.
- Finally, I trust everyone has seen the new OKGo video for 'This too shall pass'
Now I can either watch an episode of Buffy, or do some of my reading....hmm I'm sure you can imagine which is more likely.
Music: Blackadder
Mood: Working
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Follow the spiders? Why couldn't it be follow the butterflies?
Oh dear god. I went to check the mail just now and as I come in through the front door, I feel something hairy under my foot before I really take a step so I look down and there is a FUCKING HUNTSMAN JUST SITTING THERE. I quickly hop down the hall muttering various curses in between every "ew ew ew ew ew". Is this how you repay me nature? I sing your praises all morning, chillaxing in the garden with my Iced Tea and SPF 30 sunblock, enjoying your gorgeous 34 degree summer weather, and you send a spider into my home. That's not on. I forgot how many damnable creepy crawlies there are around in summer. Major SHUDDER. Anyway, I had to get rid of the thing or else I wouldn't be able to ever go anywhere in the house again. Luckily it was sitting right between the front door and the screen door so I could just shoo it out by flapping the door about. I'm sure that if there were any neighbours around they would assume I'm a bit mad. "There there love, the door can't hurt you now." Maybe the door can't but stepping on a giant, hairy arachnid sure can. Note to self: WEAR SHOES. Ugh.
For the internationals who have the blessed luxury of not being faced with these terrors on a regular basis, this here is a specimen of the lovely fellow.
"Hello, I will eat your flesh while you sleep."
Out of all our spiders, and oh isn't there a nice selection, they aren't actually that bad. They can't kill you or anything, but they are ginormous and that makes them terrifying. I can't help but come to the conclusion that Ron Weasley would never have any peace here.
I now need to stop looking at pictures of spiders, definitely feeling ill.
Yuck.
Well now that has definitely ruined my hippy-I-love-Sydney-in-summer mood, I have no choice but to do some uni work. Hmmm, maybe spiders aren't so bad in comparison.
I only have about one more meeting with Mandy left. We discussed some of the concerns I had with my piece yesterday so I can tighten it up and send it back over again. Fifth draft, sheesh. She's been really excellent through all of this actually. She's completely supportive and soothes my neurotic insecurity about my writing. I've been really lucky to have a prolific writer with real standing within the community as my supervisor.
I went shopping afterwards, finally got those denim shorts and skinny black jeans. Not the Levis though since the style they had wasn't what I was after, but I did get a pair of Lee Riders that are just gorgeous. I know black jeans are really not in this season but I don't care, you should always have a pair of black jeans on hand. Plus, they look amazing with the black and white slingback gladiator-esque heels I bought the other day. Myer is a stock-less wasteland, not quite sure what's happening there. I was quite frustrated by the lack of pretty much anything decent in the shops, but that is not really an uncommon occurrence. I found a nice white t-shirt (to go with the jeans, see?) at Dangerfield that has a print of the James Dean pic that inspired 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' as well as a quote from 'Catcher in the Rye.' I suspect it may be a guy shirt but as per usual I care very little.
The aim for the next two days is to make headway on my exegesis argument. Tomorrow, I'm breaking midday to see Final Destination. I'm not quite sure how I got talked into that.
Music: Every breath you take - The Police
Mood: Grossed out
For the internationals who have the blessed luxury of not being faced with these terrors on a regular basis, this here is a specimen of the lovely fellow.
"Hello, I will eat your flesh while you sleep."
Out of all our spiders, and oh isn't there a nice selection, they aren't actually that bad. They can't kill you or anything, but they are ginormous and that makes them terrifying. I can't help but come to the conclusion that Ron Weasley would never have any peace here.
I now need to stop looking at pictures of spiders, definitely feeling ill.
Yuck.
Well now that has definitely ruined my hippy-I-love-Sydney-in-summer mood, I have no choice but to do some uni work. Hmmm, maybe spiders aren't so bad in comparison.
I only have about one more meeting with Mandy left. We discussed some of the concerns I had with my piece yesterday so I can tighten it up and send it back over again. Fifth draft, sheesh. She's been really excellent through all of this actually. She's completely supportive and soothes my neurotic insecurity about my writing. I've been really lucky to have a prolific writer with real standing within the community as my supervisor.
I went shopping afterwards, finally got those denim shorts and skinny black jeans. Not the Levis though since the style they had wasn't what I was after, but I did get a pair of Lee Riders that are just gorgeous. I know black jeans are really not in this season but I don't care, you should always have a pair of black jeans on hand. Plus, they look amazing with the black and white slingback gladiator-esque heels I bought the other day. Myer is a stock-less wasteland, not quite sure what's happening there. I was quite frustrated by the lack of pretty much anything decent in the shops, but that is not really an uncommon occurrence. I found a nice white t-shirt (to go with the jeans, see?) at Dangerfield that has a print of the James Dean pic that inspired 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' as well as a quote from 'Catcher in the Rye.' I suspect it may be a guy shirt but as per usual I care very little.
The aim for the next two days is to make headway on my exegesis argument. Tomorrow, I'm breaking midday to see Final Destination. I'm not quite sure how I got talked into that.
Music: Every breath you take - The Police
Mood: Grossed out
Monday, February 9, 2009
Summer comes and rain falls away
There is always cleaning and organisation to be done. Every time I think I'm done, there's something else. Evil cycle.
It is significantly cooler today and, even better, there's the promise of rain. Overcast days! Who would have thought I'd ever be happy about that? The bushfires in Victoria are completely out of hand. It's quite depressing really. I'm just thankful NSW have avoided it so far. Touch wood. The worst thing about it is that most of the fires have been deliberately lit, and when they manage to put one out, someone restarts it again. What kind of sick behaviour is that? I love a bit of fire as much as the next person, but this is utterly devastating. Last I heard the death toll was at 104. It's just incomphrensible.
Lizzie was over last night. We were meant to go to Macbeth but it was in the park and with the heat and wind, I just wasn't up for public transport and then sitting outside. We went to see an advance screening of Rachel Getting Married instead. It features what has to be the weirdest wedding ever, I am still perplexed by the lack of theme. It wasn't quite what I expected, but it was good.
I am trying to build up the will to go to work. It's hard. I really don't want to.
I'm a bit at a loss right now. Floating and directionless, not tied to anything and not knowing how to really deal with what I am actually feeling. I can't explain it, cause I can't really explain it to myself. I think my mum finally understood something the other day, something about why I do what I do, why I get into things the way I do, heart and soul. Even if it's not forever, I never regret anything I do at the height of that passion, it all forms part of who am I am, part of how I see myself. It's a tapestry of experiences, while maybe not conventional or practical, it gives me a sense of meaning. I guess it's the same thing some people have with their tattoos.
I have these moments of illumination but they're so fleeting, before I can really grasp them, they're gone again. Drives me mad sometimes.
I really, really, really need to start working on Soliloquy or I'm going to be pushing myself something severe. If I can just do a chapter a week like I said I would, I'd be done by June. Which gives me an entire semester to edit and re-write if necessary and do the exegesis. Stupid honours. Requiring me to use my brain.
WHY is my damn iTunes constantly "determining song volume"? It started suddenly the other day and it keeps trying to do. Stop wasting my time! Gah.
Tea and brownies. That's what I need. Solves everything...at least for a little while.
Music: Don't Forget - Martha Wainwright
Mood: Confused
It is significantly cooler today and, even better, there's the promise of rain. Overcast days! Who would have thought I'd ever be happy about that? The bushfires in Victoria are completely out of hand. It's quite depressing really. I'm just thankful NSW have avoided it so far. Touch wood. The worst thing about it is that most of the fires have been deliberately lit, and when they manage to put one out, someone restarts it again. What kind of sick behaviour is that? I love a bit of fire as much as the next person, but this is utterly devastating. Last I heard the death toll was at 104. It's just incomphrensible.
Lizzie was over last night. We were meant to go to Macbeth but it was in the park and with the heat and wind, I just wasn't up for public transport and then sitting outside. We went to see an advance screening of Rachel Getting Married instead. It features what has to be the weirdest wedding ever, I am still perplexed by the lack of theme. It wasn't quite what I expected, but it was good.
I am trying to build up the will to go to work. It's hard. I really don't want to.
I'm a bit at a loss right now. Floating and directionless, not tied to anything and not knowing how to really deal with what I am actually feeling. I can't explain it, cause I can't really explain it to myself. I think my mum finally understood something the other day, something about why I do what I do, why I get into things the way I do, heart and soul. Even if it's not forever, I never regret anything I do at the height of that passion, it all forms part of who am I am, part of how I see myself. It's a tapestry of experiences, while maybe not conventional or practical, it gives me a sense of meaning. I guess it's the same thing some people have with their tattoos.
I have these moments of illumination but they're so fleeting, before I can really grasp them, they're gone again. Drives me mad sometimes.
I really, really, really need to start working on Soliloquy or I'm going to be pushing myself something severe. If I can just do a chapter a week like I said I would, I'd be done by June. Which gives me an entire semester to edit and re-write if necessary and do the exegesis. Stupid honours. Requiring me to use my brain.
WHY is my damn iTunes constantly "determining song volume"? It started suddenly the other day and it keeps trying to do. Stop wasting my time! Gah.
Tea and brownies. That's what I need. Solves everything...at least for a little while.
Music: Don't Forget - Martha Wainwright
Mood: Confused
Friday, February 6, 2009
The world keeps turning
Currently at work trying not to sit on the edge of the seat. Despite intense and frequent sunscreen application, as is often the case, one spot was neglected and now the back of my thighs are less than comfortable. It isn't as bad as it could be, merely a bit red and sensitive to touch, so I'm trying to avoid it wherever I can. On the other hand, the rest of me didn't burn at all. This is probably the most sun I've seen in years. My back has gone a shade of light dusty brown I've forgotten I'm capable of. Think that'll be the end of it now, unless the heat keeps up.
It was definitely one of our smarter decisions to camp out at the beach yesterday - it wasn't nearly as hot at the water as it was everywhere else. There was a good (if sometimes annoying) breeze, and for the first hour we merely floated along in the water so we were set for the rest of the day - 2 till 5.30. We were being quite juvenile at times though, but hey, what can you do? By we, I mean Roze and I...suspect we were driving Em a bit mad for a bit there. Let is also be said innuendo ran rampant. It's shocking really. Anyway, pizza at Roze's and she wouldn't let us leave! It was mad!
Tonight we're off to a 21st. I have no idea what to wear. It's billed as a cocktail party but its at her house, so I have no idea how formal we're going. At the moment my options are the polka dot dress, which I suspect might be a little too informal, or the Panic dress (aka the hooker dress to my family). Seeing as this is also going to be a high school reunion of sorts (a lot of ex class mates are invited), I don't know what would be appropriate. Bah. I'll try them both on and decide.
I'm really not in the mood to go. It's too hot out at her place for one thing. A quiet evening at home wouldn't be a bad thing, but I guess I don't have much of a choice.
Sigh.
I really don't like working Saturdays.
Music: Traffic
Mood: m'tired
It was definitely one of our smarter decisions to camp out at the beach yesterday - it wasn't nearly as hot at the water as it was everywhere else. There was a good (if sometimes annoying) breeze, and for the first hour we merely floated along in the water so we were set for the rest of the day - 2 till 5.30. We were being quite juvenile at times though, but hey, what can you do? By we, I mean Roze and I...suspect we were driving Em a bit mad for a bit there. Let is also be said innuendo ran rampant. It's shocking really. Anyway, pizza at Roze's and she wouldn't let us leave! It was mad!
Tonight we're off to a 21st. I have no idea what to wear. It's billed as a cocktail party but its at her house, so I have no idea how formal we're going. At the moment my options are the polka dot dress, which I suspect might be a little too informal, or the Panic dress (aka the hooker dress to my family). Seeing as this is also going to be a high school reunion of sorts (a lot of ex class mates are invited), I don't know what would be appropriate. Bah. I'll try them both on and decide.
I'm really not in the mood to go. It's too hot out at her place for one thing. A quiet evening at home wouldn't be a bad thing, but I guess I don't have much of a choice.
Sigh.
I really don't like working Saturdays.
Music: Traffic
Mood: m'tired
Thursday, February 5, 2009
After poisoning him with words
I love the 'Desolation Row' video My Chem did (they covered the song for the epic awesomeness of The Watchmen movie). It is just so unbearably old-school, it makes my heart ache. I mean, come on, is that red eye-shadow I can spy on Gerard? That takes me back. I realise its all part of the concept, but it just recalls those mad, crazy, punk kid days of old. I loved the Black Parade, but this just reminds me of the madness that was the beginning. If I could, I'd hug it.
Anyway.
Yesterday was complete and utter mayhem. It all started because it was overcast when I picked Em up. We pretty much wrote off Palm Beach then and there, besides the Weather Channel said it was raining (I suspect it's a dirty, rotten liar, but whatever.) So we spent the morning lying about Roze's place, catching up, trading gossip, the usual. Hunger eventually forced us off to Eastgardens in search of all-day breakfast. We seem to have a penchant for all-day breakfasts. Some shopping was had, and there was harrassment of General Pants staff (the guy later called us twice while we were at the beach, much to everyone's amusement I'm sure. Well, I think he was greatly amused by our insanity. I, for one, thought his facial expressions when dealing with Roze was priceless). We headed to the beach after this, well bay really more than the beach.
It was so lovely. We entertained young children, diners in a nearby restuarant, and greatly perplexed the few other people who had been enjoying their peace and quiet prior to our arrival. We took a hell of a lot of random photos, made sand constructions, danced, indulged in stunt fighting, chased each other about, and in general acted like tools. It was fun. Eventually we were completely exhausted by all this sun and madness, so we scooted up under Em's tiny rain umbrella and tried not to die of heat stroke. This amused some people at the beach greatly, one lady even asked us if we weren't too crowded under there. It just reminded me of school and how we used to spend our lunch times in the exact same way. Anyway, we were lamenting not really being prepared for the beach as the water looked very inviting and to make up for it we have resolved to head back there tomorrow, beach gear in tow. Huzzah. I'll do a better job with the sunscreen this time. While I didn't get badly burnt yesterday, it was still faintly red and we have a cocktail 21st party to go to on Satuday, I'd rather not be medium to well-done.
After this we took off for Moore Park for milkshakes, markets and movies. Air conditioning! Joy! We saw Slumdog Millionaire, which is every bit as good as they tell you even though it completely depressed me. I feel that's why they added the song in the end, just to make it seem a bit easier to bear. I had my *woe face* on for most of it while threatening Roze with my water bottle to try and get her to tell me what happens - futile attempts as it were. I have to say though, while I appreciate the symmetry and the story arc, I feel the last question was far too easy to be the final question on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?'
We headed back to Roze's place as night settled in and sprawled out on the couch watching reality tv. We ventured outside again only to get dinner and eventually Em and I had to head home around 10. So we did literally spend the entire day together, even if we didn't end up taking that long overdue road trip. One day we will actually get there.
The sun and beach always makes me lazy so I slept like a log. It was absolute bliss. I only managed to drag myself out of bed sometime before twelve, only to upload some photographic evidence of our stupidity and nearly being late for work. Really lazy and peaceful.
Right now I'm writing something Amped based and feeling good...it's not really a flash since I haven't used a prompt. Just something I felt like writing while at work.
Right now though, chinese food beckons!
P.S. I just caught the start of the US version of Life on Mars. Sheesh. I understand why they redid it now, they had to make it more obvious *shakes head* The acting has got nothing on the first one. It reminds me of when my cousins and I used to reenact things. Final thought - John Simm kicks ass. C'est tout.
Music: Desolation Row - My Chemical Romance
Mood: Loved
Anyway.
Yesterday was complete and utter mayhem. It all started because it was overcast when I picked Em up. We pretty much wrote off Palm Beach then and there, besides the Weather Channel said it was raining (I suspect it's a dirty, rotten liar, but whatever.) So we spent the morning lying about Roze's place, catching up, trading gossip, the usual. Hunger eventually forced us off to Eastgardens in search of all-day breakfast. We seem to have a penchant for all-day breakfasts. Some shopping was had, and there was harrassment of General Pants staff (the guy later called us twice while we were at the beach, much to everyone's amusement I'm sure. Well, I think he was greatly amused by our insanity. I, for one, thought his facial expressions when dealing with Roze was priceless). We headed to the beach after this, well bay really more than the beach.
It was so lovely. We entertained young children, diners in a nearby restuarant, and greatly perplexed the few other people who had been enjoying their peace and quiet prior to our arrival. We took a hell of a lot of random photos, made sand constructions, danced, indulged in stunt fighting, chased each other about, and in general acted like tools. It was fun. Eventually we were completely exhausted by all this sun and madness, so we scooted up under Em's tiny rain umbrella and tried not to die of heat stroke. This amused some people at the beach greatly, one lady even asked us if we weren't too crowded under there. It just reminded me of school and how we used to spend our lunch times in the exact same way. Anyway, we were lamenting not really being prepared for the beach as the water looked very inviting and to make up for it we have resolved to head back there tomorrow, beach gear in tow. Huzzah. I'll do a better job with the sunscreen this time. While I didn't get badly burnt yesterday, it was still faintly red and we have a cocktail 21st party to go to on Satuday, I'd rather not be medium to well-done.
After this we took off for Moore Park for milkshakes, markets and movies. Air conditioning! Joy! We saw Slumdog Millionaire, which is every bit as good as they tell you even though it completely depressed me. I feel that's why they added the song in the end, just to make it seem a bit easier to bear. I had my *woe face* on for most of it while threatening Roze with my water bottle to try and get her to tell me what happens - futile attempts as it were. I have to say though, while I appreciate the symmetry and the story arc, I feel the last question was far too easy to be the final question on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?'
We headed back to Roze's place as night settled in and sprawled out on the couch watching reality tv. We ventured outside again only to get dinner and eventually Em and I had to head home around 10. So we did literally spend the entire day together, even if we didn't end up taking that long overdue road trip. One day we will actually get there.
The sun and beach always makes me lazy so I slept like a log. It was absolute bliss. I only managed to drag myself out of bed sometime before twelve, only to upload some photographic evidence of our stupidity and nearly being late for work. Really lazy and peaceful.
Right now I'm writing something Amped based and feeling good...it's not really a flash since I haven't used a prompt. Just something I felt like writing while at work.
Right now though, chinese food beckons!
P.S. I just caught the start of the US version of Life on Mars. Sheesh. I understand why they redid it now, they had to make it more obvious *shakes head* The acting has got nothing on the first one. It reminds me of when my cousins and I used to reenact things. Final thought - John Simm kicks ass. C'est tout.
Music: Desolation Row - My Chemical Romance
Mood: Loved
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The words she knows, the tune she hums
Part of the reason I enjoy reading autobiographies/non-fiction is the random information you pick up – for example, did you know that Nazi uniforms were designed by Hugo Boss? Then again, you pick up random information in fiction too...so I guess it isn't very relevant. Oh well.
I’ve had an interesting two days. When I haven’t been sprawled on the couch with a book/dvd, of course. After work on Tuesday I decided to finally drag my lazy self in to the city to get these damn tickets at the Opera House. I was partly inspired by the fact that it was overcast and not nearly as hot as it’s been the rest of the time. It was humid though but I decided to completely ignore this just so I could wear my new jacket. Glee. Anyway, walking to the Opera House is always a massive chore for me. Mostly because there are always thousands of people inbetween the station and my destination. When I did however get there, with relatively little fanfare, one guy decided to videotape me walking up the stairs to the box office. I do not know why, but it was just a little bit creepy. I then had to wait around as many tourists tried to get tickets to a show, any show. When I finally got a chance I felt a bit like Krusty in that Lisa Lionheart episode of The Simpsons cause I was done a matter of minutes – “Learn from a professional, kid”. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a disappointed haze since I couldn’t find a book, a dvd, or a cd I wanted. I did however try on that leather jacket at Sportsgirl – ew, ok, just ew. Don’t even go there. That one is definitely struck from the list. Oh but I did catch a glimpse of Travis while grumbling about Borders' dvd/cd collection. You should see the boy, he’s gone nerd to the extreme. The hair’s all short and he’s got glasses and…sigh. You wouldn’t even recognise him if it wasn’t for the tattoos. I still think he’s absolutely gorgeous though. The rest of the afternoon passed as I waited for mum to finish work and got her old boss to teach me Welsh (he’s orginally from Swansea). It such a bizarre little language. I also may have gotten into an agurment with the IT boys about why Batman is so much cooler than Spider-man, and I earned the comment “you sound like the Big Bang Theory!” I take it as a compliment. I have embraced my inner nerdom. What’s the point of denying it?
Oh and as if to prove the point, I spent the entire night indulging the Whoniverse with my mum. ‘The Christmas Invasion’ was on ABC and I told her we were going to watch it – she didn’t object. I explained the back story and then made sure she wasn’t going anywhere by making tea and such, not that she even tried to escape. I think she liked it, especially the Lion King bit haha. I followed this by flipping to UKTV where they were showing the last episode of Torchwood Season 1 and she watched that too [Season 2 starts next week, watch it! Even if it’s just ‘Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang’ – James Marsters is fantastic]. Although at one point she was a bit confused, “I’ve seen this before!” and I was like nooo, you’ve probably seen me watching it before and caught glimpses of it. My mother also thinks Gwen is a bit of an idiot and that Owen is a tool. Although there was this one moment at the start where she confused Ianto for Owen and I nearly died from the indignity. After all, she’s watched Torchwood before, she should know better! Then of course, since Tuesdays is Who night on UKTV, I flipped to the +2 channel and watched the episode that was on while the Christmas special aired…which is the second part of the Slitheen set from Season 1. Mum sat through this too, though she did exclaim over how much of this stuff was actually on. I told her I could always get the dvds out. In case you haven’t picked up on it, I’m trying to get her into it. So far she’s very tolerant of this obsession, and she’s more than willing to watch it with me if she has nothing better to do. I would like her to watch it of her own free will, but that probably isn’t going to happen. The only tv show she’s currently into like that is Life. It used to be House and Numb3rs and NCIS, but she loses interest after the first two seasons or so. Guess I can’t really blame her.
So anyway, although it seems my life revolves around this stuff, it’s not strictly true. I took Em out last night to see The Complete Works of Shakespeare which somehow turned out to be a whole dinner-and-a-show thing as it somehow became her belated Christmas present from me. Not wanting to stray to far from the Quay, we had dinner at Pancakes at the Rocks, and when I say dinner, I mean this only in the sense that we had food at what is considered dinner time, since we both actually took advantage of their all day breakfast menu and had bacon and eggs. As nocturnal beings, I feel this makes sense. I don’t know how or why, but we sat there for a very long time and the next thing I knew it was twenty to eight. Show started at eight. Oops. So there we were, scuttling back along the quay, dodging tourists and trying desperately to stay out of camera lenses lest we look like refugees from the planet lame (this is a turn of phrase I also picked up in the autobiography, which I think pretty much sums up most of my exploits and as such, I have adopted it for my own *pats words*). I was also yet again reminded why I like summer nights in the city - it's not nearly as hot as during the day and you can actually risk running around like a loon. Still, we did eventually make it with perhaps a minute to spare. We have skills.
The show was utterly hilarious. They do all 37 plays in 97 minutes. Although apparantly mentioning King Lear in a fictional footy match of historical plays starring the likes of Kings Henry, Richard and John, apparantly counts. They started with Romeo and Juliet, but when Romeo made his enterance it was to Panic! At The Disco’s ‘I write sins not tragedies’ [I can include the exclamation mark damn it, it was still there when this song was released] and he was wearing a black wig and a My Chemical Romance Revenge-era t-shirt. Introduction? It’s Ro-emo. Em and I were laughing our heads off from the minute we heard Panic and it was pretty much a sign to come for the rest of the night. There was a medley of comedies, Othello in rap, and Titus Andronicus as a cooking show. It was brilliant. Macbeth was done in Scottish accents, although just putting ‘mac’ in front of everything seems to count – “Macnot very Macmuch”. Hamlet closed the show, and it was done about four times – once like the others, then faster, then even faster, and then backwards. Even though it’s silly interpretations, I find it really interesting how people were on the edge of their seats for the final soliloquy – I mean everyone was leaning forward so intently. It’s just such an amazing thing really. It only made me ache yet again that I couldn’t see David Tennant in Hamlet though. It would have been the epitome of awesome. Shakespeare, whether done in this silly comedic fashion or plain and straight up, really is a great theatre experience. Seeing Shakespeare being played, the way it was always intended, is one of my favourite things. When you go back to read it after seeing it, it just makes so much more sense.
But I digress. I have probably rambled enough for one day. I might put good use to the Christmas present Em gave me yesterday. It’s so cool, she got it from Kikki K. where she works every now and then and there are post-its that say things like “read” and “love it” and “follow up”, as well as study-related ones. She knows me so well to indulge my post-it fetish. She also got me two notebooks; a book mark; pens that have swedish words and definitions on them (Kikki K. is a swedish company); and this hardcover book with tabs for things like books, music, films, and shops. All really good for me with my penchant for note-taking.
I still need to chuck out most of such said notes that I haven’t had a chance to go through yet. Sigh.
Music: Tiny Dancer - Elton John
Mood: Relaxed
I’ve had an interesting two days. When I haven’t been sprawled on the couch with a book/dvd, of course. After work on Tuesday I decided to finally drag my lazy self in to the city to get these damn tickets at the Opera House. I was partly inspired by the fact that it was overcast and not nearly as hot as it’s been the rest of the time. It was humid though but I decided to completely ignore this just so I could wear my new jacket. Glee. Anyway, walking to the Opera House is always a massive chore for me. Mostly because there are always thousands of people inbetween the station and my destination. When I did however get there, with relatively little fanfare, one guy decided to videotape me walking up the stairs to the box office. I do not know why, but it was just a little bit creepy. I then had to wait around as many tourists tried to get tickets to a show, any show. When I finally got a chance I felt a bit like Krusty in that Lisa Lionheart episode of The Simpsons cause I was done a matter of minutes – “Learn from a professional, kid”. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a disappointed haze since I couldn’t find a book, a dvd, or a cd I wanted. I did however try on that leather jacket at Sportsgirl – ew, ok, just ew. Don’t even go there. That one is definitely struck from the list. Oh but I did catch a glimpse of Travis while grumbling about Borders' dvd/cd collection. You should see the boy, he’s gone nerd to the extreme. The hair’s all short and he’s got glasses and…sigh. You wouldn’t even recognise him if it wasn’t for the tattoos. I still think he’s absolutely gorgeous though. The rest of the afternoon passed as I waited for mum to finish work and got her old boss to teach me Welsh (he’s orginally from Swansea). It such a bizarre little language. I also may have gotten into an agurment with the IT boys about why Batman is so much cooler than Spider-man, and I earned the comment “you sound like the Big Bang Theory!” I take it as a compliment. I have embraced my inner nerdom. What’s the point of denying it?
Oh and as if to prove the point, I spent the entire night indulging the Whoniverse with my mum. ‘The Christmas Invasion’ was on ABC and I told her we were going to watch it – she didn’t object. I explained the back story and then made sure she wasn’t going anywhere by making tea and such, not that she even tried to escape. I think she liked it, especially the Lion King bit haha. I followed this by flipping to UKTV where they were showing the last episode of Torchwood Season 1 and she watched that too [Season 2 starts next week, watch it! Even if it’s just ‘Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang’ – James Marsters is fantastic]. Although at one point she was a bit confused, “I’ve seen this before!” and I was like nooo, you’ve probably seen me watching it before and caught glimpses of it. My mother also thinks Gwen is a bit of an idiot and that Owen is a tool. Although there was this one moment at the start where she confused Ianto for Owen and I nearly died from the indignity. After all, she’s watched Torchwood before, she should know better! Then of course, since Tuesdays is Who night on UKTV, I flipped to the +2 channel and watched the episode that was on while the Christmas special aired…which is the second part of the Slitheen set from Season 1. Mum sat through this too, though she did exclaim over how much of this stuff was actually on. I told her I could always get the dvds out. In case you haven’t picked up on it, I’m trying to get her into it. So far she’s very tolerant of this obsession, and she’s more than willing to watch it with me if she has nothing better to do. I would like her to watch it of her own free will, but that probably isn’t going to happen. The only tv show she’s currently into like that is Life. It used to be House and Numb3rs and NCIS, but she loses interest after the first two seasons or so. Guess I can’t really blame her.
So anyway, although it seems my life revolves around this stuff, it’s not strictly true. I took Em out last night to see The Complete Works of Shakespeare which somehow turned out to be a whole dinner-and-a-show thing as it somehow became her belated Christmas present from me. Not wanting to stray to far from the Quay, we had dinner at Pancakes at the Rocks, and when I say dinner, I mean this only in the sense that we had food at what is considered dinner time, since we both actually took advantage of their all day breakfast menu and had bacon and eggs. As nocturnal beings, I feel this makes sense. I don’t know how or why, but we sat there for a very long time and the next thing I knew it was twenty to eight. Show started at eight. Oops. So there we were, scuttling back along the quay, dodging tourists and trying desperately to stay out of camera lenses lest we look like refugees from the planet lame (this is a turn of phrase I also picked up in the autobiography, which I think pretty much sums up most of my exploits and as such, I have adopted it for my own *pats words*). I was also yet again reminded why I like summer nights in the city - it's not nearly as hot as during the day and you can actually risk running around like a loon. Still, we did eventually make it with perhaps a minute to spare. We have skills.
The show was utterly hilarious. They do all 37 plays in 97 minutes. Although apparantly mentioning King Lear in a fictional footy match of historical plays starring the likes of Kings Henry, Richard and John, apparantly counts. They started with Romeo and Juliet, but when Romeo made his enterance it was to Panic! At The Disco’s ‘I write sins not tragedies’ [I can include the exclamation mark damn it, it was still there when this song was released] and he was wearing a black wig and a My Chemical Romance Revenge-era t-shirt. Introduction? It’s Ro-emo. Em and I were laughing our heads off from the minute we heard Panic and it was pretty much a sign to come for the rest of the night. There was a medley of comedies, Othello in rap, and Titus Andronicus as a cooking show. It was brilliant. Macbeth was done in Scottish accents, although just putting ‘mac’ in front of everything seems to count – “Macnot very Macmuch”. Hamlet closed the show, and it was done about four times – once like the others, then faster, then even faster, and then backwards. Even though it’s silly interpretations, I find it really interesting how people were on the edge of their seats for the final soliloquy – I mean everyone was leaning forward so intently. It’s just such an amazing thing really. It only made me ache yet again that I couldn’t see David Tennant in Hamlet though. It would have been the epitome of awesome. Shakespeare, whether done in this silly comedic fashion or plain and straight up, really is a great theatre experience. Seeing Shakespeare being played, the way it was always intended, is one of my favourite things. When you go back to read it after seeing it, it just makes so much more sense.
But I digress. I have probably rambled enough for one day. I might put good use to the Christmas present Em gave me yesterday. It’s so cool, she got it from Kikki K. where she works every now and then and there are post-its that say things like “read” and “love it” and “follow up”, as well as study-related ones. She knows me so well to indulge my post-it fetish. She also got me two notebooks; a book mark; pens that have swedish words and definitions on them (Kikki K. is a swedish company); and this hardcover book with tabs for things like books, music, films, and shops. All really good for me with my penchant for note-taking.
I still need to chuck out most of such said notes that I haven’t had a chance to go through yet. Sigh.
Music: Tiny Dancer - Elton John
Mood: Relaxed
Monday, January 26, 2009
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
I am sipping cane passionfruit and lemonade while watching the sun fade from the sky. Which would be infinitely more summery if there weren’t this many clouds about. Ah well. In spirit, it’s a good endeavour. It is Australia Day after all.
I was pondering going to see Slumdog Millionare with Em tonight, but as I have now been co-erced into drinking, this is not going to happen. Until I get off my ass and go for my full licence anyway, then I can have one drink at least and still be legal. But as of this moment, I shall remain home bound. Not necessarily a bad thing since I ache all over for some unfathomable reason.
Another thing that is unfathomable is the amount of crap I manage to accumulate. I've resumed the doomed clean out this afternoon and bloody hell, where did all this stuff come from? I am beginning to suspect there is a vortex, black hole, or temporal displacement active under my bed.
Other than that, I've had a good weekend. Lizzie came over yesterday and we headed into the city for some madness. There was shopping involved which led to the purchase of the aforementioned jacket at General Pants. It is love. Unfortunately, as is my lot in life, I also saw another jacket that took my fancy. Leather. Even more expensive. It be here. Won't know if it's worth sinking money into until I've actually tried it on. What can I say, I've got a thing for military style clothing. I'm also a total jacket whore. We also saw Revolutionary Road which was wholly depressing. Really. The evening was topped off with dinner at one of my favourite harbourside cafes, all the while watching the Australia Day celebrations happening around Darling Harbour. So all in all, it was a very nice night.
I finally went to Ikea with my mum today. I found a cd/dvd shelf that should solve my current problem - I've moved all my books onto my current shelving unit so there are now some 120 plus homeless cds lying around. I figured this is an easy solution. Especailly since we are definitely running out of dvd space, and they are all pretty much my dvds...what can you do. Although while shopping about, we got thinking it would be nice to buy a whole new shelving unit that matched my desk and the new shelf, and then get a new bed to match all that. Wonderful, 'cept for the little issue of not being made of Ikea vouchers. The bed I was eyeing optimistically was on sale for $200 but sadly only comes in white. Epic fail crazy Swedish furniture people, epic fail. They continued with their epic failure by not having any double sized bedding available and also by being temporarily out of the dvd shelf I wanted. Bah! So now that I know what I want, I have to wait until they get it in again...whenever that may be. In the meantime I've issued a trip warning for the spare room lest someone send my cds sprawling everywhere. There will be hell to pay if a case gets broken, I don't care about any sprained limbs in the process. As always, I am rational and show a clear grasp of healthy priorities.
That paragraph makes little to no sense. Ramble, ramble.
Well, guess that's it...lots more clearing out to be done *weeps*
Music: Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
Mood: Groggy
I was pondering going to see Slumdog Millionare with Em tonight, but as I have now been co-erced into drinking, this is not going to happen. Until I get off my ass and go for my full licence anyway, then I can have one drink at least and still be legal. But as of this moment, I shall remain home bound. Not necessarily a bad thing since I ache all over for some unfathomable reason.
Another thing that is unfathomable is the amount of crap I manage to accumulate. I've resumed the doomed clean out this afternoon and bloody hell, where did all this stuff come from? I am beginning to suspect there is a vortex, black hole, or temporal displacement active under my bed.
Other than that, I've had a good weekend. Lizzie came over yesterday and we headed into the city for some madness. There was shopping involved which led to the purchase of the aforementioned jacket at General Pants. It is love. Unfortunately, as is my lot in life, I also saw another jacket that took my fancy. Leather. Even more expensive. It be here. Won't know if it's worth sinking money into until I've actually tried it on. What can I say, I've got a thing for military style clothing. I'm also a total jacket whore. We also saw Revolutionary Road which was wholly depressing. Really. The evening was topped off with dinner at one of my favourite harbourside cafes, all the while watching the Australia Day celebrations happening around Darling Harbour. So all in all, it was a very nice night.
I finally went to Ikea with my mum today. I found a cd/dvd shelf that should solve my current problem - I've moved all my books onto my current shelving unit so there are now some 120 plus homeless cds lying around. I figured this is an easy solution. Especailly since we are definitely running out of dvd space, and they are all pretty much my dvds...what can you do. Although while shopping about, we got thinking it would be nice to buy a whole new shelving unit that matched my desk and the new shelf, and then get a new bed to match all that. Wonderful, 'cept for the little issue of not being made of Ikea vouchers. The bed I was eyeing optimistically was on sale for $200 but sadly only comes in white. Epic fail crazy Swedish furniture people, epic fail. They continued with their epic failure by not having any double sized bedding available and also by being temporarily out of the dvd shelf I wanted. Bah! So now that I know what I want, I have to wait until they get it in again...whenever that may be. In the meantime I've issued a trip warning for the spare room lest someone send my cds sprawling everywhere. There will be hell to pay if a case gets broken, I don't care about any sprained limbs in the process. As always, I am rational and show a clear grasp of healthy priorities.
That paragraph makes little to no sense. Ramble, ramble.
Well, guess that's it...lots more clearing out to be done *weeps*
Music: Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
Mood: Groggy
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I'm not one for love songs
Another sleepless night. See this is why I never to actually go to bed before midnight, there’s no point. I will just lie there, tossing and turning, until 2am anyway. The way I see it, I might as well get something done. Unsurprisingly, getting up at 7 was painful and I was well settled into a zombified state. We weren’t very busy tho, so it was ok really, I did have a slight brain meltdown trying to figure out how to work the new fax machine which may have taken longer than it should have, but hey, I got there in the end and that is the important part.
One of the worst things about working at a doctor’s, other than seeing the elderly weakly batting death off with their walking sticks, is meeting some lovely fantastic people who want to have kids, but who can’t. I always get sort of upset at this, it’s one of the cruelest things about the universe. I mean there are people out there, loving, caring people, with the potential to be wonderful parents, and they never get the opportunity. Then you have these people who really shouldn’t be procreating in the first place who have like twenty kids…where is the justice in that? Adopting isn’t an easy thing either, and it breaks my heart a little, thinking how difficult this is for no apparent reason. Life is a cruel mistress.
Bleakness aside, another “heat wave” has rolled in. I’ve spent the day inside in airconditioned mediocrity and am really disappointed I did, cause when I went outside at 5 it was absolutely gorgeous. I mean sure it’s hot, but I’m not actually going to be moving, am I? I just want to sit on the grass and soak up the summer-y goodness. Fresh air! Sunshine! Summer breeze! Like I said, it was gorgeous. Instead I spent my day in front of the tv/computer…such a waste!
Really not surprising then that I’m bored as all hell. People tend to get a little frazzled this time of year and my patience is often put to the test. All I want to do is go out there and have fun. I want to feel that lazy summer night quality the city always does so well. Get dressed up, laugh, be both silly and grown up. Be everything and nothing in a moment. I want to feel that energy…the longer I stay still, the more the apathy gets its claws in.
Not long ago, I gave up hope
But you came along,
You gave me something I could hold on to
And I want you
More than you can ever know
I give thee proof of my boredom -
Hahahaha. Like I said before - awkward, sarcastic, receptionist.
Music: The World's got it's shine (but I would drop it on a dime) - Cobra Starship
Mood: Weird
One of the worst things about working at a doctor’s, other than seeing the elderly weakly batting death off with their walking sticks, is meeting some lovely fantastic people who want to have kids, but who can’t. I always get sort of upset at this, it’s one of the cruelest things about the universe. I mean there are people out there, loving, caring people, with the potential to be wonderful parents, and they never get the opportunity. Then you have these people who really shouldn’t be procreating in the first place who have like twenty kids…where is the justice in that? Adopting isn’t an easy thing either, and it breaks my heart a little, thinking how difficult this is for no apparent reason. Life is a cruel mistress.
Bleakness aside, another “heat wave” has rolled in. I’ve spent the day inside in airconditioned mediocrity and am really disappointed I did, cause when I went outside at 5 it was absolutely gorgeous. I mean sure it’s hot, but I’m not actually going to be moving, am I? I just want to sit on the grass and soak up the summer-y goodness. Fresh air! Sunshine! Summer breeze! Like I said, it was gorgeous. Instead I spent my day in front of the tv/computer…such a waste!
Really not surprising then that I’m bored as all hell. People tend to get a little frazzled this time of year and my patience is often put to the test. All I want to do is go out there and have fun. I want to feel that lazy summer night quality the city always does so well. Get dressed up, laugh, be both silly and grown up. Be everything and nothing in a moment. I want to feel that energy…the longer I stay still, the more the apathy gets its claws in.
Not long ago, I gave up hope
But you came along,
You gave me something I could hold on to
And I want you
More than you can ever know
I give thee proof of my boredom -
| Which Torchwood Character Are You? Your Result: Ianto Jones You most resemble the team's composed, sarcastic general support. Passionate but excellent at hiding it under a reserved exterior, you care deeply about people and have a hard time letting go. The downside of keeping such a tight leash on your external emotions is that sometimes you lose control and have to let it all out. Competent and hard-working, you like to be on top of things. | |
| Toshiko Sato | |
| Gwen Cooper | |
| Captain Jack Harkness | |
| Owen Harper | |
| Which Torchwood Character Are You? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz | |
Hahahaha. Like I said before - awkward, sarcastic, receptionist.
Music: The World's got it's shine (but I would drop it on a dime) - Cobra Starship
Mood: Weird
Friday, October 31, 2008
A desperation murmur of a heart beat
My mum just sent me a text. It reads - "who is that vampire guy in the Joker make-up?" Suffice it to say I had no idea what she was talking about, so I rang her. Now apparantly I was watching something last week on tv, and she commented that he looked like the Joker, but I knew what was going on, so I explained it to her. That was last week, today I have NO idea what's going on. I can't remember watching anything with vampires, let alone vampires with Joker make-up. In fact, I can't remember watching anything with anyone in Joker make-up at all. All I remember watching is Torchwood. Anyway, she wants to know who this mystery guy is cause she says that is what Danny looks like today - you might remember him from other Halloween costumes such as Jack Sparrow (sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow). I knew he was going to do the Joker thing, I just knew it. I should have bet on it, damn it. Anyway, this incident just further illustrates what a unique challenge the parenting of me can be - being on the phone while I run through all the possible shows we could have possibly watched last week and all the vampires I can possibly think of (which for some reason today was limited to Lestat). My poor mother has lived through so many of my obsessions. We still don't know who this vampire Joker is...I honestly have no idea what she's talking about...I'm guessing the character probably isn't a vampire at all, just really pale which I contribute to the clown make up...I mean why would a vampire be dressed like that? It's driving me nuts tho, not knowing.
I should be cleaning up right now, Lizzie's coming over at 5, but I really don't want to.
Ryan Adams was on Letterman last night, he was looking the way he sometimes does that makes me think I've got a bit of a thing for him. You know, despite his being one of those moody, brooding artists types. Disturbingly, I watch a lot of Letterman. Not because I particularly want to, it's just on when I'm up late. I usually only realise when the guest musicians start playing how late it is. It's a cue for my brain to go "Oh Letterman's on, better go to bed soon." I don't even know how old the episodes are they show here. Sometimes I think they can't be that old, but other times there seems to be a bit of a break in information. Well whatever, I ramble pointlessly.
You know what, I'm really very protective of my friends. I hate it when something happens that I can't fix or can't even plot revenge against. I hate feeling so useless.
Days like today just fascinate me. Wasn't hot when I left for work and it was raining, it's taken all day to warm up and even now, it's not really hot, it's just humid. The sky isn't really blue, it's more yellow. Everything has that slightly off tinge to it. I always feel like it's quintessentially aussie.
Now let's see, the obsession of the week. I was considering making it the Trope Wiki site since it's endlessly amusing and provided much aid in the procrastination process this week, but the dubious honour is going to have to go to Green Day's American Idiot. How many years has it been now, four? And still I respond to this album in the same way. I've been listening to it now for four days straight and it's in my car cd player, selected on my iPod, and currently blaring from my stereo. I know it back to front, and yet, I never get sick of it. I've expressed my adoration for this band many, many times, and it never lessens. If anything, it gets stronger. Every time I listen to this album, to any of their albums really, I realise it's why I wake up every morning. It sinks in, it courses through the very strands of my existence, it's like taking that first breath after being under water for a long time. Every time. Everything I feel, everything I love, everything I want, is reflected. And yes, sometimes it breaks my heart, but at least I feel it. I'm weird, I'm a loner, and I feel slightly unhinged most of the time, but it's ok cause I have this. So even though every single feeling captured on this album is one I can easily find, and knowing that stings, it's beautiful, because it's real.
I just caught sight of the pile of clothes in the corner of my room...gah. Why can't I hang stuff up then every weekend won't be this tiring battle to actually get stuff back into the closet. Grumble. Damn the infernal laziness!
Music: Homecoming - Green Day
Mood: Blah
I should be cleaning up right now, Lizzie's coming over at 5, but I really don't want to.
Ryan Adams was on Letterman last night, he was looking the way he sometimes does that makes me think I've got a bit of a thing for him. You know, despite his being one of those moody, brooding artists types. Disturbingly, I watch a lot of Letterman. Not because I particularly want to, it's just on when I'm up late. I usually only realise when the guest musicians start playing how late it is. It's a cue for my brain to go "Oh Letterman's on, better go to bed soon." I don't even know how old the episodes are they show here. Sometimes I think they can't be that old, but other times there seems to be a bit of a break in information. Well whatever, I ramble pointlessly.
You know what, I'm really very protective of my friends. I hate it when something happens that I can't fix or can't even plot revenge against. I hate feeling so useless.
Days like today just fascinate me. Wasn't hot when I left for work and it was raining, it's taken all day to warm up and even now, it's not really hot, it's just humid. The sky isn't really blue, it's more yellow. Everything has that slightly off tinge to it. I always feel like it's quintessentially aussie.
Now let's see, the obsession of the week. I was considering making it the Trope Wiki site since it's endlessly amusing and provided much aid in the procrastination process this week, but the dubious honour is going to have to go to Green Day's American Idiot. How many years has it been now, four? And still I respond to this album in the same way. I've been listening to it now for four days straight and it's in my car cd player, selected on my iPod, and currently blaring from my stereo. I know it back to front, and yet, I never get sick of it. I've expressed my adoration for this band many, many times, and it never lessens. If anything, it gets stronger. Every time I listen to this album, to any of their albums really, I realise it's why I wake up every morning. It sinks in, it courses through the very strands of my existence, it's like taking that first breath after being under water for a long time. Every time. Everything I feel, everything I love, everything I want, is reflected. And yes, sometimes it breaks my heart, but at least I feel it. I'm weird, I'm a loner, and I feel slightly unhinged most of the time, but it's ok cause I have this. So even though every single feeling captured on this album is one I can easily find, and knowing that stings, it's beautiful, because it's real.
I just caught sight of the pile of clothes in the corner of my room...gah. Why can't I hang stuff up then every weekend won't be this tiring battle to actually get stuff back into the closet. Grumble. Damn the infernal laziness!
Music: Homecoming - Green Day
Mood: Blah
Friday, October 3, 2008
Drift, drift, drift
I am not a big fan of this hot-yet-overcast weather. It seems like a total rip off to have the heat but not the sun to go with it - "Mwahaha fry my pretties fry, but suffer in overcast doom" If I'm going to be hot, I at least want to feel like I'm getting something out of it, after all.
On that note, airconditioning is evil. Not only does it regularly make me sick, but it is also quite spiteful. Take the one at work for example, currently verging on sub zero in the waiting room yet if I switch it off, it is far too stuffy. It also does not seem to care what temperature I set it at, it still maintains fridge-appropriate output. In fact, due to the supreme dodginess of our work fridge which regularly needs to be thumped to work, it is probably colder in the waiting room than in the fridge. Fascinating isn't it?
Since I'm on the topic of work, is it wrong that I get some sort of sick satisfaction that people prefer me to the other woman who works here? Today I had a lady ring to ask my times, so she can make appointments/enquiries when I'm here. This makes the little psychopath in the darkest recess of my brain pump her little fist and go "yes!". I'm not quite sure why but the detatched omniscient little me thinks its probably a bit pathetic. Yeah, I have a lot of little me's running around my brain. They don't get a lot done and lately they've been lacking in the memory department.
Sigh. Our medical cancelled. I've been sitting here since 10.40 with nothing to do. I'm tired of making myself look busy. Why doesn't the work computer have solitaire? Every time I've been to my doctor's surgery, the receptionist has been playing solitaire. As I said, sigh.
Music: Admit It - Say Anything
Mood: Cranky
On that note, airconditioning is evil. Not only does it regularly make me sick, but it is also quite spiteful. Take the one at work for example, currently verging on sub zero in the waiting room yet if I switch it off, it is far too stuffy. It also does not seem to care what temperature I set it at, it still maintains fridge-appropriate output. In fact, due to the supreme dodginess of our work fridge which regularly needs to be thumped to work, it is probably colder in the waiting room than in the fridge. Fascinating isn't it?
Since I'm on the topic of work, is it wrong that I get some sort of sick satisfaction that people prefer me to the other woman who works here? Today I had a lady ring to ask my times, so she can make appointments/enquiries when I'm here. This makes the little psychopath in the darkest recess of my brain pump her little fist and go "yes!". I'm not quite sure why but the detatched omniscient little me thinks its probably a bit pathetic. Yeah, I have a lot of little me's running around my brain. They don't get a lot done and lately they've been lacking in the memory department.
Sigh. Our medical cancelled. I've been sitting here since 10.40 with nothing to do. I'm tired of making myself look busy. Why doesn't the work computer have solitaire? Every time I've been to my doctor's surgery, the receptionist has been playing solitaire. As I said, sigh.
Music: Admit It - Say Anything
Mood: Cranky
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