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12/7/09 09:17 pm - Blaming a guy for trying


I just have to mention that...men are fucking weird. Today in the shop some guy came in during a quiet period. He was very friendly, well-spoken, quite nice looking compared to the usual Prestonian ilk, tried on some clothes and was clearly making excuses to talk to me. As he goes to leave he leans over the counter and asks me what time I was getting off work...
"five-ish"
"would you like to get off earlier?"
"uh, I'm not really allowed..."
"I mean, do you want to get off together. We could go out the back."
"...."
"well, you cant blame a guy for trying!"
Uh, yes, YES YOU CAN!!!
*full body shudder*
It was so stupid because I've been groped on trains, had guys masturbate next to me at German tramstops, etc etc but this one really threw me. I was actually mildly rattled by this, I couldnt shake the heeby-jeebies.* But then another guy came in and showed me the hand-drawn christmas cards and gift tags he'd made for his kids and they were so beautiful I was quite thrown by....how contrasting people can be.

This aside, job is okay, basically involves estimating the monetary worth of old Sportsgirl tops and saying thankyou approx 500 times a day to the colourful characters who come in and compliment my tattoos.


*I could make a side note about how bizarre it is to behave like this. Women would never do this to men, it's only women who have to put up with getting their leg caressed on public transport whilst on the way to the hospital for a throat infection....

12/6/09 10:59 am - "I dont want to kick them in the face, just their hair."


Mars is still playing havoc with my Venus and so I'm feeling really needy for closeness from people BUT at the same time old ghosts are popping up and I've been loathe to reconnect with anyone because it ultimately means more people to painfully part with.

Friday night the Rumjacks played with King Cannons at the TOTE. Shouldve been a good night but it was a bit flat. Always nice to see the BASH kids although Ms Hooligal was sufficiently drunk enough to fall asleep in James' lap before the night was over (quite cute really). Bands were good - Rumjacks do what they do very well... but I guess the thing that keeps me from buying anything of theirs is the block of Dropkicks, Pogues and Flogging Molly cds in my collection that already dont get much of a listen anymore. Great band to see live though. King Cannons are a headlining band after 6 months of their first show which is self explanatory but I guess I wasnt in the mood that night. Just felt a bit absent. Also, I'm probably being paranoid, but there was a slightly unfriendly atmosphere. Although the place was full of rockabilly girls, who generally dont talk to anyone anyway. Probably didn't help that Sammy had reached that point of indifference that she was putting the boot into any girl that blocked her view of the band (ha!). Worse, when people approach you and ask you if you know so-and-so and then start making references to white power, etc,....fuuuck! I guess there are Boneheads on the 'billy scene too.

Anyway, got to talk sparingly to a sweaty and enthusiastic Page, which was nice, then parted ways with everyone and went for drinks with whiteboy on Lygon street. Hadn't seen him in 6 months but he's one of those people you can just pick up with where you left off. And I drank a phenomenal amount. My drinking patterns are strange these days - I've been drinking amazing amounts of beer and being quite composed. I think it's something to do with my recent conversations with a certain straight-edge person, I now have this reservation about relapsing into a drunken boob, and yet it's so tempting so I compromise by still drinking copiously but feeling shy and remorseful about it. Illogical, sure.

We have a new housemate now. She's nice but I haven't really rolled out the welcome wagon due to hangover-related reasons....

....hmph...one of the worst things about working (apart from the actual having to work aspect) is that feeling you get on Sunday, that "fuck I have to work tomorrow!' sense of foreboding.
Current Music: Plan of Attack ep. Again.
Current Mood: okay

12/2/09 09:27 pm - "He had arms, but one come off"


As a general rule, I only speak to my father for a reason, ie birthdays, etc, so tonight's phone call was to officially inform him of my impending move. And it was a weird call because in the space of half an hour I was probably more honest with him than I have been with anyone, even with myself. Because he made it easy. So far I've only received resistance from people regarding my move: people in france have been confused and indifferent (the most encouragement has been from Pascal. Me: "I dont want to leave France, I want to stay." Pascal: "So just stay." That's really about it.) my friends are making it hard to part with their general radness, my mother frequently berates me with her "dont expect me to support you" tirades 'o' cynicism. Nobody has told me "wow that's great, you have to do it!", really.
But with dad...I told him about my secret relationship that has been secretly confusing the secret shit out of me, how I'm essentially giving up on a potentially great relationship in favour of travel and personal opportunity, we talked about how I'm getting older and how its such a gamble making these decisions. And he was very matter-of-fact about it, as if it's my unavoidable nature to be this way and do these things. It was actually encouraging. Mum has a similar view of me, but I know its the aspect of my character that she hates the most; my impractical, thoughtless, selfish whims that dont pan out so I move onto the next whim, side of me.
"Always on the go. Where do you get that? From your mother" said dad, but I think we both know I get the flakiness from him. Gosh.

I really love my family right now. Like, a lot. Really excited about Christmas (a whole week with Bella and Matt and Martin and mum and maybe Reggie - you could bottle the festive cheer that's dripping off me right now), really excited about Tasmania, really excited about seeing dad again. It's weird.
Although to be fair, I'm happy about most things these days. I've been easier to live with. Ask Aaron. It's come from the realisation that many things are great.

11/28/09 12:54 pm - "We really like you and your people, but I'm sorry, have a good night."

The Moonhops have coyly broken up, which blows somewhat as they're rather good. Because the majority of bands around Australia that purport to be a fusion of contemporary with traditional reggae/ska/whatever influences are so very awful, it took me a very long time to make the effort to see this band. But they were so understated and classy and seemed to just effortlessly step into all the bits of 60s rocksteady that people actually like. Lead singer was more handsome than people have any business being (with that level of composure in a room that sweaty the man could be the spokesperson for Sta Prest), and their clever musicianship really stood out. Anyway, I guess its all irrelevant since they've split now, and we're left with American-soiled 'ska' and tacky retro (do we really need more rockabilly venues? I suppose we do, as people dont really care about quality, they care about stuff that has flame detailing).

Actually had a great night, I like Grumpy's and it was just perfect to sit back with a beer on a hot day and listen to good reggae with good people. Of course the night ended going skinny dipping and invariably getting kicked out by hotel security. I suppose hotel staff and patrons didnt appreciate naked skinheads behaving like children in their pool at 2 in the morning. Felt a bit gross on the tram home this morning but the music I was listening to was actually almost medicinal.

Current Location: napsville
Current Music: The Untouchables - 'Tighten Up'
Current Mood: content

11/26/09 04:05 pm - consumption haiku


Australia, you suck.

Throwing up all day.

It's the weather.

11/26/09 11:49 am - 'fart pocket'


I think today is Thanksgiving Day? Which prompts me to stop and muse over what I'm thankful for. Not a lot I guess, since I had to think about this at length, ha. I'm selfish.

I remember waking up one morning with the Snake and remarking at how we'd had so much fun the night before, such vast amounts of fun, that I'd almost regretted going out because everything during the subsequent weeks would be so comparatively drab and unfun. He took it as an example of me being a supposed pessimist and negative, but its actually a theory I apply to a lot of my life - sometimes I wish things would just be more monotone. I often remind myself of something Ken told me, how in the face of tumult and change he usually just felt "moderate", and I envied this so much! So when I feel tempted to lapse into emotional hyperbole I remind myself "be moderate, BE MODERAAAAATE"...
anyway, what's my point again? Oh yeah. Double-edged sword of happiness.
At this point in time I'm a bit socially indifferent, in that I'm only seeing people who are guaranteed to make me happy and stimulated and interested and not insane. There's only a small handful of these people around. I get so much out of that friendship, and out of a few other individuals that I almost rue their existence because they make my relationships with everyone else in the world seem substandard. And when I leave I may not replicate them, ever. It sucks having things that are so good you dont want to fathom losing them. Had a great dinner last night! Thankful for Palookaville.
Thankful that I'm loved - if only by a few - not for any reason but because of me, for my own merits. And by fucking great people.
I'm thankful I was able to travel (at the time I wanted to just be home and catch up on sleep), as it changed my life plan and my perspective on life in general, and rewarded me with some eventful, unusual but ultimately enjoyable experiences. But there's a 'BUT' to this. A few weeks ago a certain someone told me I would thank him for changing my life and I poutily argued that *whiny girly voice* no, actually, all these changes really upset my little apple cart and really rather fucked things up since I was happily resigned to a life of muddling along in Australia. And now look, now I have to make all these radical changes in my life just to satisfy this stupid freakin yearning for something that's been awakened in me
*grimace*
There's a couple of people I met this year that I'm incredibly appreciative of, as I told someone a couple of days ago, 'angels and demons'...

So those are my top two Awesome Things That I Have And Others Do Not, which I should appreciate. There are smaller things - I'm thankful for having great hair, I'm thankful for having a family I actually like and get along with, (as sappy as it sounds) I'm thankful for a beautiful world that I've only recently discovered is there to be explored and appreciated, I'm thankful for my happy home and the things I have, for my new job, for the salmon I'm about to eat. Significantly I'm happy for myself, the things I've done for myself, although maybe that doesn't count.

Thankful for a good year, possibly the best one yet, and for the potential for an even better one next year, which is looking definite.

11/22/09 02:25 am


Cool change today.
Due to jetlag I get up at annoyingly early hours - this morning I weeded the garden and the back patio, a seasonal event that precedes summer drinking, although I dont think there will be any of that this year. Regardless, I needed the weeds out of my brain, my life. Cleaned the kitchen, all the cupboards, etc, and stripped my bedroom walls as I couldnt stand the sight of all that old stuff. It's all frustrated actions, a desire to show that some sort of change has taken place.

Drank with Bell since 2:30, went to a party populated by ex-Tasmanians that I never knew and people who look like ex-Tasmanians I've never known. Sausagey party, lots of lovable boys in glasses and 'bad shoes' but it doesn't really matter these days. Wasnt particularly interested in people, or alcohol, although a few of my favourite people were there - wish I could just absorb them, with less ceremony. Walked home quite late, it was warm and it rained and rained and I was very happy to listen to Jimmy Cliff, be pensive, and let my socks get very wet.

I was drunk but I tried to explain to Jen about how the source of the 'weird' feeling regarding being back in Aus is related to my sudden re-detachment from the sense of identity I was painstakingly crafting in France. You put all this work into the new sense of self then get lurched back to The Old Main Drag, you've got no choice, and all your Plan B's seem not at all lucrative. Worse, I've been trying to cling on to semblances of that other life, listening to french oi, putting all my new things around my room, reading and re-reading all my msgs and emails from people in broken english.

Milan Kundera was right, only having one existence is agonising, and trying to formulate (or pretending to have) a second brings all kinds of problems.
Current Location: carpet
Current Music: 'The Harder They Come' JImmy Cliff
Current Mood: tired

11/19/09 11:40 pm - Pressure Drop

http://libcom.org/news/gentle-bonecrusher-life-death-ivan-khutorskoy-17112009

When boneheads have your address on their websites and have made multiple previous attempts at taking your life - is it courage and integrity or stubborn idiocy?

Regardless, I just cant hate RASHies as much as everyone else seems to when groups like Young Russia make me want to kick many a face off. I guess I'd just rather stay home with my Toots & Maytals cds like everyone else than get a screwdriver in the neck over it, maybe I suck.
But in general, everyone in Russia needs to calm the fuck down.

11/18/09 11:36 pm



Bye bye Paris, you so pretty, you so fine.

Its at about 4:30, you cross the river and think that life would be perfect forever and ever, amen if only you lived in one of those apartments with the gold sunset windows.

Pascal took this photo since I'm anti-touristphoto and prefer instead to take for granted that these beautiful places were one street away from my flat. What's one street away from my house here? I'd post a photo but I couldnt decide what best captures what I'm feeling right now: the KFC and Cheesecake Shop or the bus shelter thats been hit by so many cars Im surprised they still bother to replace the perspex.

11/16/09 04:46 pm

Had quite a shit night!

Started off okay, wandered around Le Marais with Hughes, although I was poor company, had my head in the clouds.
Sunday night this area is full of people and I was already in a foul mood - somebody had tried to get my attention and actually grabbed me by the braces, which I find so rude. I was in boots and braces which I guess makes me a walking PLEASE PISS ME OFF WITH YOUR DOUCHEBAG COMMENTS neon sign.
So I was feel tetchy and defensive.
Worsened as I was late, probably missing everything (was supposed to meet the french punk at 8), and I was lost. Got off at completely the wrong stop on Blvd Voltaire and was pushing through this big crowd of kids (these big throngs of black teenagers, they just seem to hang around train stations at night looking like American homeboy wannabes), and though I was listening to music I could see they were mouthing off at me, and then this boy grabs my arm and I just blurted out FUCK OFF and shoved through them. Only to discover I was miles away from where I was supposed to be, so I had to turn around and walk through the pack again, who were already midsentence with their verbal abuses from the last time Id passed them...

*sigh*

..and so one of the little homegirls had grown a pair of balls and clearly had something to prove to the other midget Lil Kims gathered around, because she bailed me up and would not get out of my face, so close I could see every sparkling grain of bronzer on her face...so I kinda just gave her a....thwack. I'm pissweak but she was so small it kinda knocked her over, and of course in a nanosecond I'm covered in other small females, wailing like banshees. All I cared about was losing my bag as it contained my phone, money, keys, camera, so it was a tug-of-war. And in the back of my mind I was kinda scared of the boys who were gathering around.

Anyway, then what I thought was the police appeared from nowhere, but I think they were actually some kind of Metro people in uniform as they kept threatening to call the police. They werent very nice. And I was so flustered I was useless: I couldnt remember me street name, my phone number, I seemed like a crazy person. And they kept asking if I knew anyone in Paris, they insisted on one name, and I couldnt really give them any. The thought of them ringing up any of the people I knew was somehow embarrassing. It's funny, because I was so insulted at them manhandling me and treating me like a piece of shit off the street, but I guess in hindsight it wasnt unwarranted: if I hadnt touched that girl I wouldve enjoyed a fun night of bands and wouldnt be sitting here holding a cold beercan on my nose.

So I missed the gig, went home and vented to a very tired Matt, found it impossible to sleep. Woke up this morning and I'd forgotten it had happened...until I moved, and the pain in my ribs feels like Ive been kicked by a horse. Plus the matching black eyes look grrrreat.

Today I forced myself out to do last-minute shopping, walked past a big group of kids at Bastille and just wanted to kick their faces off. I dont care about getting physically hurt, its just more the jarring sensation of being forced to acknowledge how alone I am in this country, and wide open to this kind of shit.

11/12/09 05:47 pm

Do people enjoy sight-seeing? Im never quite sure if I get that much out of it. I mean, I appreciate that something is beautiful but for me 'place' is an environmental thing that is absorbed: for example, I feel happy and light-hearted in Paris because its pretty, and I feel a little glum and worn in Germany, which I find somehow grey and ugly, and yet I never feel impressed or amazed by any individual place. Except maybe for Versailles, when I saw the palace from a distance for the first time I did think "woah, shit" for a second.
Anyway, today I spent about 6 hours doing very touristy things with Pascal, who must have been bored out of his brain seeing such things for the zillionth time but was too nice to admit it. Montmartre was nice, of course. He was quick to catch on to the Things That Make Alice Happy; patiently waiting while I looked at puppies in petshops, pointing out sights of interest (ie cute puppies in the street, amusing pigeons), eating things that involve a lot of cheese. So, job well done.

I'd be happier but I only have a few days left in France and nothing can distract me from the impending doom of having to leave.
Current Mood: okay

11/9/09 05:19 pm - Being a joke

This week was supposed to be one of Jupiter and Venus, but it has felt more like Mercury in retrograde. After a suffering from a major case of the Over Its for the large part of the week, followed by some Boy Exhaustion and a dose of Serious Conversation on Friday morning, I lurched home on the train, and was welcomed yet again by an apartment full of workmen, noise and dust and just wanted to cry. Which, of course, I did, and generally behaved like a pouty baby all over a certain skinhead who laboured all day to cheer me up.
But finally, my apartment is officially finished and the shower works, and of course the washing machine managed to flood the floor, we'd run out of clean clothes and dry towels and had to dry ourselves with old tshirts.

Spent the weekend with Cheeseburger, it went in the blink of an eye. We did first official tourist duties of wandering around the Big Metal Stick, getting lost, eating too much, and generally being very loud and unfrench. Really enjoyed just walking for hours in the cold and looking at beautiful things. Parting ways today was surprisingly saddening.
So my place looks lurvely but all my favourite people have gone home and tonight the simple things I do and think seem paltry somehow.
Current Location: Paris
Current Mood: calm

10/25/09 09:33 pm - How the West was Won and Where It Got Us


Yes, Michael Stipe, you still have fans.

I figure travelling on your own consists of wins and losses. I`ve chalked up a few of both. For example:

Friday (The Guitar Debacle) LOSS
One of the reasons I like cities like Berlin and Melbourne is their logical structure, theyre built on a grid. Its hard to get lost. Unfortunately Paris appears to be founded on a "system" of concentric circles, so getting lost is invariable. Its ok, getting lost, but when it happens consistently you do tend to feel like screaming "fuck you god" at the sky. This was half my friday. I did however win in the end, because after being in about a dozen different music stores I bought a guitar. Before which I got an interesting mix of treatment (okay its bad enough in Australia when a girl walks into a guitar shop they get the inevitable "you must be waiting for your boyfriend" invisible status or the "aww arent you cute, a girl who finks she can pway guitar" treatment. But in France....well I refuse to believe that anyone in a music shop does not speak english. Have they not heard anglo music before. Every time I heard this response I wanted to shout "LIAR! YOU ARE A LIAR" but at this point I was so disgruntled I was happy to satisfy them with my broken struggling french. I swear I was making up words as I went, I stopped caring.)
But I have a new baby! And she is lovely. My first solid body guitar in a long time. Nothing flashy, but she sounds bright and is an easier play than the ol Bigsby tank at home that I insist on having.

Saturday (The Hair Debacle) LOSS
Had some bad regrowth action goin down so I finally found a place that sells blonde dye (an effort in itself). The pack promised a 'natural' effect, natural apparently meaning purple in france. To cut a long story short, half of Saturday consisted of buying three separate packs of dye, spending almost 60 dollars, just to get the purple out of my hair. Right now, after being bleached three times its this unholy grey colour, devoid of life.
The other half of the day featured going up 6 flights of stairs, over and over. I would discuss this further but Ive been accused of "complaining".

Sunday (Oi) WIN
Spent the day with my new guitar although my wrists didnt really let me get very far (my bones feel like burnt branches. Painful dust.) Spent the afternoon going to check out a bunch of Oi bands in the 13th arr. It was really fun, it was on a boat and the whole thing literally rocked with the movement of the crowd. Bands themselves were good but not that amazing. Everyone loved them, and the people I spoke to seemed to be in complete praise, but...I gotta say, Australia does it better. A hardcore band played and they kinda wiped the floor with the other bands but even then it was very clean and American; Aus hardcore is so much grittier and real. The headliner, Hard Times, were good, but they were streetpunk to me, the bands in Melbourne are so much harder (Bulldog Spirit or Reckless Aggression would eat em for breakfast)...and it sounds funny, but even the people reflected this. The scene here seems to consist of heaps of young guys, many of which seem to have something desperate about them, something to prove. In Aus theres more older guys, and more respect for age, and more...composure, sincerity? Fights kept breaking out and the guys seemed more interested in that than the music. Maybe I dont know what Im talking about, after all, these were just young guys doing whats expected, I expect it'll be different at the Last Resort.
Anyway, I spoke to a lot of people and everyone was really nice. Shitloads of good looking lads and only two other girls with feathers, all the girls had hair, the softcocks. In the space of a few hours I inadvertantly managed to piss off girls (that I wanted to befriend). And I have some guy's number in my pocket. I was just being nice to eveyone. So aforementioned boy was nice; while all the skins were very busy Being Very Tough he was being really goofy and silly on le dancefloor, I liked it. What do I do with this number? I dont know. But I give up on making friends, period.
Anyhoody, was very happy going home, felt safe seeing all the skins on the train home. A skin with some scary scars on his head blew me kisses and shouted at me that he was in love with me, from the opposing train platform. Thats nice, even though he'd probably just gotten out of hospital after his lobotomy.

Early night, I like it, but feeling resoundingly solitary.

10/18/09 11:18 am - "That guy just got even hotter..."


"...he either has a rotten tooth or a really big gap."
Funny what we find appealing these days. Receding hairlines are a new one on my list.

Fantastic night, one of those good Arty nights, loved the Spermbirds, and generally had a good night of being doused in beer and being pressed in between many sweaty men in hoodies.

Going to miss my little friend Milla very much.

10/17/09 11:18 am - "falling down like sheets"


Came very close to finally losing my shit yesterday.
I mean, I get angry. Well, sort of. I get angry about people buying cage eggs, I get angry about the amount of goth models in this world, I get angry when I cant get the cork out of a wine bottle....But this is that nasty angry, when you feel so irreparably poisonous it sours your whole day. I'd gotten up mega early (again) to get uni work done and from a sleepless week I felt like shite and was so OVER IT, I couldnt find any stockings and for some reason my chest of drawers got stuck, I ended up breaking the fucking wood in the thing I was feeling so foul.
I HATE that feeling, I hate me when I'm feeling that feeling.
I haven't felt so nasty in such a long time, it actually reminded me of when I was going out with Ol' Snake Oil, I guess that was the feeling that characterised that period. It's a response I'd conditioned out of my system, and I'm more of a Dr. Hibbert about things these days, but there it was, back.
Stupidly, I'd decided to return all my uni books in one go, which were so heavy I could only walk about ten metres before stopping for a break. So, cranky and sweaty I was lugging this shit through the cbd and I actually thought I was losing it, I began to think of peole who'd snapped and had mental collapses from stress, like David Helfgott, I really thought: this is it, I am David Helfgott. Your brain can only take so much sustained mental strain?
Later, after running around the uni library for an essay I haven't even started but have to have finished by Sunday I ran into my tutor, and my complete lack of any semblance of composure must've been quite telling because he offered me an extension. Monumental yay! Which is why I'm farting around on the net and eating too much today, instead of tearing my hair out writing about literalism in art.

Anyway, shared a bottle of champagne with my postmodernism group (yep, all four of us. Oh the wild times we have. Discussing postmodernism), and uh, discussed postmoderism. Met up with Bella, Luke, Zac, Jen and Bell's mum for dinner. Which was really lovely, loved the restaurant and the company and it was the first time in maybe two months I felt...light. And when I got home I realised how actually touching it was that my friends had made a small fuss over me submitting my thesis. I guess you always feel a bit isolated with these things and dont expect other people to care (particularly when they dont. I think maybe only two people even asked me what my topic was). So when someone hands you a beer and tells you that they're proud of you...aww, well. It was a table of people I like very much.

AND AND AND tonight I'm going to see the Spermbirds, which I've been looking forward to for months.

And tomorrow night I'm going to France.

Our fridge is broken but I'm feeling ridiculously happy today. The headache of the last 8 days is gone and I'm eating saturated fats again.

Current Music: silencio
Current Mood: relieved

10/15/09 03:44 pm - Poetry Eunuch


Here are a few of my recent random Rain Man moments, possibly the result of sustained insularity:

a) This morning I finished my thesis. I was completely over it but must admit to experiencing a glimmer of pride when I ran the spell check and triumphantly discovered I had made only two spelling mistakes (typos) in over 15,000 words and 40 pages of writing. Pedantry will get you a long way

b) Have spent the afternoon reading a book on the Golden Section in architecture and found some great examples of French architecture that incorporates this ratio, such as Notre Dame. And I actually caught myself excitedly thinking, not only that I should go look at these when I'm in Paris, but that I should also take photos.
Then the impossibly nerdy image of myself with a ruler and pen, painstakingly ruling lines onto photos of buildings instantly quashed any excitement I may have felt.

c) So there's this guy. This neuroscientist. He's incorporated so much art theory into his research and I've read a number of his books and essays now and have found that his hypotheses and sentiments continually match mine, so much so he's quite an exciting man. So much so I spent a considerable amount of time hunting him on the internet so I could see his picture. It used to be Mike Ness on my desktop wallpaper, what happened there? I actually find tattoos a bit repellent these days, shame about my whole freakin body then, hey. Whoops!

d) There's a general rule of thumb that if you're leaving for an overseas country the males in your life will suddenly take interest, despite your best efforts to be oblivious. During the night last night I coincidentally received txt msgs from 2 such males and didnt even bother responding... I'd worn myself out sitting in bed reading this rad new book about Carl Andre's gridular poetry, which somehow seemed to attain monumental excitement value with the pensive histrionics of nighttime. I wonder if Carl Andre is married, because those anagrams really do something.

e) Have had two dreams this week in which I've been characters from English literature. Last night it was Ursula from Women in Love.

f) listening to Paul Kelly. Not even the obscure stuff, I'm talking the singles, as loved by mums Australia-wide.

Current Location: couch
Current Music: Paul Kelly 'Dumb Things'
Current Mood: arthritic

10/11/09 09:20 am - boundary rider



So my little world was rocked by some revelations:

1) There are 12 grams of fat in one felafel ball. Shocking! I ate two yesterday and wanted to throw up, such is my fear of saturated fat.

2) On Friday I discovered that my thesis is actually supposed to be 15000-18000 words, instead of the 10000 I thought it was. Which means that in one week I have to write 5000 words, plus another 3000 word essay for aus postmodernism. So my days consist of getting up around 7ish and writing until about 4 in the afternoon, then I'm so worn out I go to bed at about 9 every night.
Unfortunately because I'm leaving soon its that time when everyone asks me out for somesuch but I literally have zero time for anyone, and so I feel like I'm full of excuses. Yesterday for example, I managed 1500 words by 2pm, then the plan was to meet Matthew for drinks, then meet Flea and Sammy and various shaved-headed folk for pre-UK Subs drinks, then meet my brother and Kim at 11. What did I end up doing? Watching the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice with Mani, then went to bed at 10. I'd gotten on the tram to pop into the city at around 4 and had something resembling a panic attack, just being around people and just that slight responsibility shut me down in the most unexpected way.

The thing that keeps me from going totally postal is that I've actually really enjoyed writing the thesis. It mutated so much, but finally my topic became whether the history of modernism (the progression of the breaking down of form and the evolution of non-figuration) can totally account for the emergence of Minimalism at the summit of modernist progression, or whether an inherent neurological predisposition for people to favour geometric form has contributed to this. Finding studies that have shown that there are actual changes in blood flow in the brain, that parts of the brain 'light up' when seeing Minimalist art was cool. Supports the suspicion I've had since I first saw a Donald Judd (not a favourite of mine but I do think he is the greatest American artist) in London, it was like a sensory overload. Or why there is more seating in the Rothko room at the Tate Modern, you just want to soak up those big browns and blacks and reds like a cat in the sun. But I've been really interested in the neuroscience, almost makes me wished I'd studied something along those lines, but then I wish I'd studied everything along any lines. Damn unbearable lightness of being.

3) They named a bridge in Brisbane after the Go-Betweens, the best band to come from Australia, ever. People actually voted for it, over traditional aboriginal names, n'all - I guess Brisbane isn't just full of awful orange people after all. The Go-Betweens are the band I will never get over, no matter how divergent my musical tastes become. And I miss my copy of Liberty Bell - people poopooh that album but there was a time I couldnt start the day withouth hearing Spring Rain.

Current Music: one very loud bird outside my window
Current Mood: busy

10/7/09 09:25 am - "I do nothing"


Another day, another hair-pulling scramble to get work done. It's the morning, which means I fart about until I feel I'm human enough to write with some semblance of coherency.

Things that have made me happy in the past week:

DH Lawrence. I've always been an EM Forster gal (what a nerdy statement) so I thought I'd give some other English novelists a go, and Women in Love is so good. What a great character writer.

The Shelagh Delaney film A Taste of Honey - Morrissey was right (of course, dammit), what a gorgeous movie, I laughed, I cried. I am incredibly menstrual right now, which may be an attributing factor, but nonetheless. I feel like Jo lately, walking around under a storm cloud.

Various shit Australian bands. If I leave Australia the thing I'll miss is that uniquely intangible crap attitude that seems passable only in Australia. I went to Missing Link yesterday, and spent money irresponsibly. The best thing about Missing Link is the New Release Hardcore section, which should be renamed New Release Whatever Plus Scraps From 5-10 Years Ago We Found Out the Back. So bye bye money. Quite like AVO right now, which is slow of me, I remember Mani and Rory going to see them several millennia ago and I probably sat home watching Pride and Prejudice or whatever it is I do on Saturday nights.


Things that have been shite:

Writing cover letters in French, which I struggle enough with in English, but in french the brown-nosing sounds even more ingratiating.

Soloing. Never cared for learning solos on guitar, sat down to nut out a few Skarface ones and it was one of those revelatory moments when you realise just how much you painfully suck at something. A chimp poking ants with a stick.

Probably will have to miss UK Subs this weekend, it'll mean I'm too knackered to do anything the day after.

Everything else right now. Honestly, I'm surlier than a father from a British family comedy series. I've been having the most stupid arguments with people over insipid topics such as Dali (didn't people get over it by Year 9 art? Masses of people lining up for hours for predictable touring exhibitions, it means we're just going to get more crowd-pulling inane crap touring here over anything really relevant or interesting. If you let 'public opinion' decide anything you end up with Cold Chisel reforming and Hey Hey Its Saturday reunion shows) and the Spring Racing Carnival (dont even GET ME STARTED but if anyone knows is going to the Melbourne Cup I will personally come and kick you in the fascinator), these things actually put me in a foul mood for hours, haha. If I dont come out of my room for a few days it's because I've had an aneurysm.

Current Location: thesis exile
Current Music: The Blurters 'Compo Scam'
Current Mood: belligerant

10/4/09 03:36 am - Take a look at me, I'm yesterdays make-up


By my calculations, I dont actually have a single day off from uni work for the next two weeks, I have to do close to 1000 words a day. But Martin's in town, so yesterday and today have been completely blown on continual drinking and subsequent hangoverage, which is irresponsible and will surely result in me hating myself when I'm scrambling to get my thesis finished, but fuck it, it's been a fun two days with good people. Protracted liquid lunch on Brunswick street was nice, but last night got pretty ridiculous. Martin's friend Mark (whom I've known so long he's been a presence since my childhood) turned 30 so to celebrate he hired a wanky bar in Southbank which I normally would never dream of going to, but the promise of an open bar and cake held an obvious appeal.
Also, it meant dressing up and attempting to look vaguely presentable. I wore a dress for the first time since I can remember, pearls, fake eyelashes, shoes that weren't boots (they had bows on them. Bows.). Fancy that. Also a fun thing to do, but I say 'vaguely presentable' as I felt slightly uncomfortable.. I dont think I'm very convincing in my attempts to look pretty, something's always amiss, though people try and reassure me otherwise. It's like when athletes or politicians get magazine makeovers, that awkward 'Aww, you're a beauty retard but look how lovely you can be' treatment. I dunno, I dont think I'm a very convincing anything, really. There's a bad Gestalt about my appearance, it's like looking at a three-legged dog or that picture of two faces that's really of a vase, or vice versa.
I'm a bad aesthetic Gestalt.

..anyway, about 10 spirits, three shots of vodka and a couple of beers later (eaten some cake, stolen the fancy soap from the toilets. It wasnt easy prising it from the dispenser), had hardly mingled and we had probably asserted ourselves as the biggest deviations at the party, but it had been fun, and sentiment can become a runaway train when alcohol gets involved. Although I'm pretty sure 90% of the night consisted of Bella and Iaughing at our own jokes and congratulating eachother on how funny we are. Then people were going to check out some strip clubs, which sounded like a fucking awful idea (note: not because of being prudish, but watching horrible orange ladies dancing in any form or any venue just strikes me as boring, depressing, and the most desperate attempt at 'fun'). I wanted to go swimming.
Woke up this morning in Crown Casino (Luke is temporarily living in a suite there for some gambling-related reason), feeling very strange - Melbourne didnt look or feel like Melbourne. All night I'd had really vivid dreams about sex, which is a positive association I have with hotelrooms, so I woke up feeling like a prostitute, and one with a pretty fucking bad hangover. Lay around until 1ish in fear of the nausea that would invariably hit me when I stood up, over-familiarised myself with the bathroom floor (very nice bathrooms in Crown I tells ya), felt seedy and looked like a melting marionette, trembled like a leaf on the cabride home, came home to an epic shower and scraped the makeup out of my pores.
"Good morning pretty girl, hahaha"
Thanks Bella.

Fuck it, drinking always makes me feel like I'm a million miles away from everyone, and just plain fucking depressive the next day.

Sitting around in my nightie, thinking about eggs.

Current Location: bedroom floor
Current Music: X 'los angeles'
Current Mood: dirty

9/30/09 08:24 am


Everyone's, not unhappy, but not happy either. At least I'm consistently having self-absorbed crises rather than this ambiguous dissatisfaction shite.

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