I love my imagination. It has provided me with many hours of entertainment, escape, and fucked-up dreams.
But oftentimes, it can be potentially detrimental to my health and/or wellbeing. How? Take this morning for an instance. I had to drive into town to meet somebody, for a very innocent purpose. Once that was over, I logicallly decide to drive back home again. Checking the rear view mirror as would be recommended by any half decent driver and/or driving instructor, I notice that the person in the van behind me is the mother of a client I've had to drop recently (for Study and Health Related Reasons). Oh dear oh the person behind me is someone I know, Oh ho isn't it simply hilarious when that happens, oh dyou think they recognise me by the back of my car? Don't make eye contact, oh too late! Oh isn't this awkward haha let's smile and wave a little bit to show we recognise the awkward hilarity of the situation, keep holding that face until they turn off then we can relax! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!! Eeeeeeee?? EEEEEEEEEEEE!!?!?!? (which is the natural progression of the noise you subconciously make when holding a forced smile and you keep expecting to be able to drop it but the moment never arises)
Said mother in said van continued to stay behind me, not deviating from her (my!) path. Okay, so she is just going up the same hill as me. She mows lawns: she must be going to a job. Wait. Is that an evil glint in her eye? STOP LOOKING IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR, she'll turn you to stone! Oh God, the van is inching closer. Well bitch, YOU have a lawnmower in the back of your vehicle, whereas I only have a vaccuum cleaner. Let's see who gets up this hill faster!
Needless to say I sped up the hill like a maniac going to a maniac convention on top of a hill, and at the intersection finally managed to lose her. Thanke Ye Godes. I became calmer and more aware of reality. The appearance of the strange walking man I call the Swinger put me at ease. I hadn't seem him for awhile. In fact was there a REASON he walked like that?? Maybe he's had a hip replacement, or some other sort of oper... OH GOD.
Evil Mother in the Van of Death had caught up to me, and there was a DEFINITE gleam of bloodlust in her eye. I'm sure I heard the lawnmower start of its own accord. Trying not to panic as I dodged parked cars (a task that would be easy if it were not for my impending doom putting a nasty spin on things) I frantically thought about my Zombie Plan. None of the scenarios that had been planned for counted on zombies that could DRIVE, let alone operate garden machinery. If I got out of this, some serious thoughts and adjustments needed happen. So basically, I was on my own. Without a paddle. Or a plan. One single thought in my mind started making itself heard above the hysterical din of all the others: DRIVE. DRIVE. DRIIIIIIIIVE.
So I drove. I drove like I've never driven before. Namely, because I've never been chased by a zombie lawnmower mother in a van before. I reached another intersection, convinced she would give up chase and go another direction. Zombies have a very limited attention span, you know. But oh hell and fury, she followed me still! I chanced a glance in the rearview mirror, her eyes locked onto mine and and I was suddenly very cold. I glanced back to the road. Crivens!! I had been veering slighly over to the next lane and into oncoming traffic!! I dodged a silver station wagon with ease, trying to pretend to the other driver I had a normal reason for almost crashing into him, like texting or fiddling with the radio, while secretly hoping Zombie Mother would get distracted and chase him instead. But no. She wanted me. I remembered with shock and glee the hairpin bends coming up. Maybe the topheavy van would lose traction and go over the side, while my wide wheel-based therefore good handling car would sail forth!
But the bitch could drive just as well as I could. Dang. She'd done this before. My driveway was almost upon us, I had planned on zooming up it and, if she followed, using my knowledge of the land to my advantage to get away. That or getting our own lawnmower out of the garage at the house: lawnmower on lawnmower, the way zombie fights are MEANT to go down. At the last minute, however, I decided to check the mail, despite knowing it was too early for any to have been delivered. I'm devious like that. This ensured I would block the driveway and if she followed, she would crash into the back of me, destroying her motor but only damaging the back of my car. I swung wildly around the corner and skidded on the gravel up to the letterbox, narrowly missing the gaping ditch beyond.
She drove on past the driveway and into the distance. Probably to a lawnmowing job.
Clever bitch knew my plan.
And that is how I survived my Ten Minutes Of Terror. I will probably have to face her another day, but luckily for me, by that time I will have worked out my Zombie Plan- Vehicle and Lawnmower Driving Ability Scenario.
Bring it.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Edit
The moon is complete and lonely tonight. I would stay outside for company were it not for that human need for warmth- part of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, survival. I'm having intense trouble finding anything I can post immediately from my notebooks that won't need severe editing, stashing the slashing and primping and priming. I know this seeems to defeat the purpose- right?? But it is 2 am and my circadian rhythms are dangerously close to meltdown!!
I will, most definitely, come back to the task at hand. I can't really remember (story of my life so far) but I think I promised, I think I promised that I would, I think I promised that I would do that one thing, and if I didn't then I should have. I will come back to it, but not now. Not now, at the risk of what happens during daytime will be shattered until unrecognisable.
"There's just no one that really knows you..." Yes and ain't that the truth. My problem and its solution are tangled up in one big ball of wool and I've only just found the end to start the unravelling... but I'm on my way now.
I will, most definitely, come back to the task at hand. I can't really remember (story of my life so far) but I think I promised, I think I promised that I would, I think I promised that I would do that one thing, and if I didn't then I should have. I will come back to it, but not now. Not now, at the risk of what happens during daytime will be shattered until unrecognisable.
"There's just no one that really knows you..." Yes and ain't that the truth. My problem and its solution are tangled up in one big ball of wool and I've only just found the end to start the unravelling... but I'm on my way now.
From Here On Out
I am fortunate enought to have a brilliantly insightful person in my life who happens to know exactly how to push my buttons and pull my levers. He also happens to grind my arguments to a pulp when it comes to Making Excuses About Not Doing Things I Know I Should Do. One of these things being expanding (and occasionally contracting) my writing into various domains and dimensions. A lot of what I write down, and what I believe is my best, is in a ramshackle collection of notebooks. Very private, very protected notebooks. That is where all my writing seems to be the safest, I can close the cover and open it again, in control, with nothing but myself and my pen to disturb me.
Mostly I do this for selfish reasons, despite knowing that those words would love to get out and be seen. I have maintained my side of the argument by thinking that nobody would really care anyway. But lo and behold, the aforementioned person goes and blows to smithereens years of thought processes and justifications with just one sentence. I believe his exact words were: "if you just hide things in notebooks, then how is anyone going to have the chance to care?"
Result: I have decided, post by post, to let some of these notebook scrawlings out to see the world and all it holds. They will be in no particular order- in fact, they'll be deliberately disorderly. They won't make sense but suddenly they will. They'll pertain to nothing you'll ever know about and will be completely out of context. But all this is relevant: it reflects with crystal clarity myself and my days and the things that force me to take up pen and put to paper. Knowing this cycle exists, how could I possibly justify leaving my words to fade away on pages under cover of darkness when they could be wreaking havoc out here??
Mostly I do this for selfish reasons, despite knowing that those words would love to get out and be seen. I have maintained my side of the argument by thinking that nobody would really care anyway. But lo and behold, the aforementioned person goes and blows to smithereens years of thought processes and justifications with just one sentence. I believe his exact words were: "if you just hide things in notebooks, then how is anyone going to have the chance to care?"
Result: I have decided, post by post, to let some of these notebook scrawlings out to see the world and all it holds. They will be in no particular order- in fact, they'll be deliberately disorderly. They won't make sense but suddenly they will. They'll pertain to nothing you'll ever know about and will be completely out of context. But all this is relevant: it reflects with crystal clarity myself and my days and the things that force me to take up pen and put to paper. Knowing this cycle exists, how could I possibly justify leaving my words to fade away on pages under cover of darkness when they could be wreaking havoc out here??
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Don't Want To Anymore
It's okay, cos I don't want to. I don't have to if I don't.
My "can't" is now a deadened limb
replaced with purposeful prosthetic "won't".
How many hours, incapacitated, spent
despairing in the grip of malaise
now I'm gripped fimly by hand and
lead into this space
a veritable panoramic change.
These eyes are weak, they're severely deformed
from years of looking away
Now I see light
and the moth starts to dance
She's drunk on the brightness of day.
It's okay, cos I'm here now. I see the dark wood from the trees.
Time has stretched on forever
my shadows can no longer hide me.
My "can't" is now a deadened limb
replaced with purposeful prosthetic "won't".
How many hours, incapacitated, spent
despairing in the grip of malaise
now I'm gripped fimly by hand and
lead into this space
a veritable panoramic change.
These eyes are weak, they're severely deformed
from years of looking away
Now I see light
and the moth starts to dance
She's drunk on the brightness of day.
It's okay, cos I'm here now. I see the dark wood from the trees.
Time has stretched on forever
my shadows can no longer hide me.
Due to popular demand... here is another post.
Last night I had planned on staying up all night. I didn't. I slept on the couch like some hubby in disgrace, hoping to wake up all fresh and zesty as the sun tiptoed its way across the valley. I would have stepped out onto the deck, Glad To Be Alive having been woken in the most gentle yet confusing way, like that one time Judy blew on my face til I woke up (which was a new and confusing experience, but not unwelcome). I know full well I would have recieved a complete faceful of the sun's shiny glory as I have often sat on this couch and whinged about it.
I set my alarm too early, and when I woke up I couldn't see. Because it was still black as all get-out. What I COULD see were lots of small twinkly white dotty things where there should have been a brilliant blue giant cover thing.
Then it started raining.
"Bitch", I thought to myself, which is a default response to "I don't like this thing that's going on". Sometimes I find it neccessary just to curse a situation in general.
I dreamed of people I didn't know but do actually exist for the next 2 hours, which made it awkward for myself when I woke up again. Strangers in such an intimate and personal place as my head doing things they shouldn't makes me nervous, and I'm glad to be rid of them after their time is up. I argued with myself as to What The Hell Was That, couldn't get any sort of decent response, so decided to drop it.
I've discovered new exciting possibilities recently and this is making it hard to maintain any sort of normal equilibrium throughout my days. Everything is starting to be giddy. Maybe that was the point...
I set my alarm too early, and when I woke up I couldn't see. Because it was still black as all get-out. What I COULD see were lots of small twinkly white dotty things where there should have been a brilliant blue giant cover thing.
Then it started raining.
"Bitch", I thought to myself, which is a default response to "I don't like this thing that's going on". Sometimes I find it neccessary just to curse a situation in general.
I dreamed of people I didn't know but do actually exist for the next 2 hours, which made it awkward for myself when I woke up again. Strangers in such an intimate and personal place as my head doing things they shouldn't makes me nervous, and I'm glad to be rid of them after their time is up. I argued with myself as to What The Hell Was That, couldn't get any sort of decent response, so decided to drop it.
I've discovered new exciting possibilities recently and this is making it hard to maintain any sort of normal equilibrium throughout my days. Everything is starting to be giddy. Maybe that was the point...
Thursday, September 16, 2010
A Very Blarghy Morning
A girl lies in bed, savouring the dream she is having. Such a beautiful, comfortable, happy dream. Such a beautiful, comfortable, happy bed. Somewhere in the house a door slams. She is disturbed slightly, rolls over, and goes back to sleep.
Happiness is waking up and being fully confident you can sleep again.
Another dream starts; this sleep is like a fabulous marathon at a cinema where everything is bean bags and you can choose the movies and little penguin waiters bring you any food you like and tell you that you are not fat at all so help yourself.
The dream progresses, the bed is warm, the girl is snuggles. Somewhere far off, a telephone rings.
Somewhere, a little way off, a telephone rings.
Somewhere around, a telephone rings.
Somewhere near by, a telephone rings.
Somewhere really fucking close, a telephone rings.
In her dream, the girl starts to get mildly irritated, for some reason. Why does happy happy joy joy dream make the ANGRIES??
Her eyes snap open. Or rather, they creak open and blink a lot. Ring, ring.
"BLARGH?!?!?!" Speech centres not fully activated.
ring ring!!
"oh blargh phone! They'll blargh give up soon..."
RING RING.
"surely they'll realise blargh... idiot blargh people... mmmmm blargh bed is cosy"
RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RIIIIIIIIIIIIING
"FUCK BLARGH OFF!!"
ring ring ring ring ring ring ring....
"Curse our lack of answer blargh machine!!
ringy ringy ring ring!!!
"I suppose I should answer blargh, it might be one of my blargh parents calling about a blargh emergency"
ring ring ring.
The half asleep girl trundles into the other room on a freezing cold floor, kicking her already injured injuries as she goes.
"blargh-lo"
"Hello, I'm an obnoxiously bright and cheery ladyvoice, broadly smiling cos Life Is Swell!! Is this Paper Plus??"
The girl takes some time to process. Paper Plus?? The STATIONERY shop?? No... last time she checked she did not sell stationery. But still... you never can be sure of much these days.
"um....blargh.... no??"
"Oh!! The realisation of my wrongness makes me sound even more chipper still!! Tinkly laugh at my mistake!! Jolly jolly hahaha!! I have the wrong number!! Good bye!!" beep beep beep beep beep
"BLARGH. Good bye, fucking exclamation mark blargh lady"
Now the girl was Up and Somewhat Awake, she discovers her cat has left a present in the night behind the TV. And not the cute "I brought you a dead mouse, aren't you proud" kind of present either.
She runs to smug-looking bitch of a cat, picks her up, shows her the error of her ways, and throws her out the cat door (which cat should have used in the first place and she Knows Much Better Than That). Mid-flight, cat extends claws and scratches girl's wrist. Touche, cat. You win this time- but I have full control of the food cupboard.
Time for breakfast. Whilst toast is toasting and coffee is coffeeing, still-sleepy girl decides now would be an excellent time to put entire contents of 40 litre rubbish bin, which includes rotting fruit, into rubbish bag all neat and tidy like. She holds bag over top of bin and tips bin upside down.
Rubbish tumbles majestically away from hungry mouth of bag, and makes spectacular landing all over recently mopped kitchen floor.
Circumstances allowing, Girl discovers that it IS perfectly alright to cry whilst bleeding, waiting for toast, amid a rubbish dump, a mere 15 minutes after getting out of bed.
Happiness is waking up and being fully confident you can sleep again.
Another dream starts; this sleep is like a fabulous marathon at a cinema where everything is bean bags and you can choose the movies and little penguin waiters bring you any food you like and tell you that you are not fat at all so help yourself.
The dream progresses, the bed is warm, the girl is snuggles. Somewhere far off, a telephone rings.
Somewhere, a little way off, a telephone rings.
Somewhere around, a telephone rings.
Somewhere near by, a telephone rings.
Somewhere really fucking close, a telephone rings.
In her dream, the girl starts to get mildly irritated, for some reason. Why does happy happy joy joy dream make the ANGRIES??
Her eyes snap open. Or rather, they creak open and blink a lot. Ring, ring.
"BLARGH?!?!?!" Speech centres not fully activated.
ring ring!!
"oh blargh phone! They'll blargh give up soon..."
RING RING.
"surely they'll realise blargh... idiot blargh people... mmmmm blargh bed is cosy"
RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RIIIIIIIIIIIIING
"FUCK BLARGH OFF!!"
ring ring ring ring ring ring ring....
"Curse our lack of answer blargh machine!!
ringy ringy ring ring!!!
"I suppose I should answer blargh, it might be one of my blargh parents calling about a blargh emergency"
ring ring ring.
The half asleep girl trundles into the other room on a freezing cold floor, kicking her already injured injuries as she goes.
"blargh-lo"
"Hello, I'm an obnoxiously bright and cheery ladyvoice, broadly smiling cos Life Is Swell!! Is this Paper Plus??"
The girl takes some time to process. Paper Plus?? The STATIONERY shop?? No... last time she checked she did not sell stationery. But still... you never can be sure of much these days.
"um....blargh.... no??"
"Oh!! The realisation of my wrongness makes me sound even more chipper still!! Tinkly laugh at my mistake!! Jolly jolly hahaha!! I have the wrong number!! Good bye!!" beep beep beep beep beep
"BLARGH. Good bye, fucking exclamation mark blargh lady"
Now the girl was Up and Somewhat Awake, she discovers her cat has left a present in the night behind the TV. And not the cute "I brought you a dead mouse, aren't you proud" kind of present either.
She runs to smug-looking bitch of a cat, picks her up, shows her the error of her ways, and throws her out the cat door (which cat should have used in the first place and she Knows Much Better Than That). Mid-flight, cat extends claws and scratches girl's wrist. Touche, cat. You win this time- but I have full control of the food cupboard.
Time for breakfast. Whilst toast is toasting and coffee is coffeeing, still-sleepy girl decides now would be an excellent time to put entire contents of 40 litre rubbish bin, which includes rotting fruit, into rubbish bag all neat and tidy like. She holds bag over top of bin and tips bin upside down.
Rubbish tumbles majestically away from hungry mouth of bag, and makes spectacular landing all over recently mopped kitchen floor.
Circumstances allowing, Girl discovers that it IS perfectly alright to cry whilst bleeding, waiting for toast, amid a rubbish dump, a mere 15 minutes after getting out of bed.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Super Secret Club that everyone knows about
I've recently had to face a lovely, beautiful, yet soul-destroyingly distraught friend of mine in a really tough situation. She is the girlfriend of a guy who is also very close to me, but as far as maturity in relationships go, they are on different planets. She does not understand the concept of "if you don't respect yourself, nobody else will". Or reaching a compromise for the sake of the person you love. She believes all she does is make mistakes, and all he does is be embarrassed by her.
What do you do when you a love a person so badly, but feel like all you do is fail them?? She has reached the self-sacrificing stage, or "I don't deserve him- he is better off without me, all I do is hurt him". She does not understand the concept of a making a change for the better without giving up your ideals. Not changing who you are as a person, but allowing your loved one see yourself objectively and letting them help you mould yourself into an even more awesome person than you already are.
So I just spent 2 hours with her crying her eyes out, and I find this in my morning emails, my daily beautiful CDF newsletter:
The blurb that went with it says:
"The truth is that there is no cost to loving in a healthy relationship. The 'apparent' cost only brings the loving individual more by growing in a thousand ways that they could never anticipate.
John Welwood writes poignantly on the subject and talks about the transformative power of relationships. We all understand the idea of romantic love, but the power to change and grow through love is a way to discover our true nature.
Paradoxically, through loving we discover our own humanity, we grow and can begin to figure out who we really are.
Yes, Love without fear, regardless of cost."
Sometimes God, the Universe, the Great Cat in The Sky or whoever you believe has their finger on the pulse just provides, in the form of amazing people you've never met.
Once again I am unashamedly plugging Hugh Macleod because he has saved my soul from torment. Watching my friend go through what she is going through is only bringing back terrible, heart-wrenching memories of my own experience. I have tried to say Wise Older Person Things to her but I know it is futile- when you have crossed the border of the Land Of No Return, nothing can save you except yourself. You're on your own in that dark and dreary minefield. I have to watch her go though this process and look back into my past and watch myself at the same time, when rather I wish I couldn't. It's impossible not to draw parallels, the recipe is the same. The outcome may be (I desperately hope for her sake) different, but the journey, that ugly awful journey, is almost a rite of passage everyone has to go through before they can reach the that Upper Plane of Wisdom.
You can tell upon meeting a person if they have had their heart broken and rebuilt. The fresh, sparkly gleam in their eyes is gone, replaced by a dull yet defined shine, the shine that has been attended to and polished but which cannot hide the cracks and mended places. When everyone discusses and gives opinions on what John should do about Mary, they stay quiet and listen with that patient look on their face, and you know they are a fellow member of the Club. The all-knowing and wise club of people that have experienced how life fucks you under, over, and all around town and regardless of any Plan you may have, it comes like a tidal wave and you're powerless. You can't, however, simply explain to a person about this if they are not in the Club. Experience is our leader. Initiation is an individual process not chosen by the individual. There's no grey area, either it's happened or it hasn't.
As I type this she is in our shower with her music going, wailing at the top of her lungs. I am ready to throw up or stab myself. The pure pain behind that noise is something I know all too well and would not wish on my worst enemy. I have to let it happen, though. I have to let her do this. It's a minefield tidal wave situation.
Another recruit for the Club.
What do you do when you a love a person so badly, but feel like all you do is fail them?? She has reached the self-sacrificing stage, or "I don't deserve him- he is better off without me, all I do is hurt him". She does not understand the concept of a making a change for the better without giving up your ideals. Not changing who you are as a person, but allowing your loved one see yourself objectively and letting them help you mould yourself into an even more awesome person than you already are.
So I just spent 2 hours with her crying her eyes out, and I find this in my morning emails, my daily beautiful CDF newsletter:
"The truth is that there is no cost to loving in a healthy relationship. The 'apparent' cost only brings the loving individual more by growing in a thousand ways that they could never anticipate.
John Welwood writes poignantly on the subject and talks about the transformative power of relationships. We all understand the idea of romantic love, but the power to change and grow through love is a way to discover our true nature.
Paradoxically, through loving we discover our own humanity, we grow and can begin to figure out who we really are.
Yes, Love without fear, regardless of cost."
Sometimes God, the Universe, the Great Cat in The Sky or whoever you believe has their finger on the pulse just provides, in the form of amazing people you've never met.
Once again I am unashamedly plugging Hugh Macleod because he has saved my soul from torment. Watching my friend go through what she is going through is only bringing back terrible, heart-wrenching memories of my own experience. I have tried to say Wise Older Person Things to her but I know it is futile- when you have crossed the border of the Land Of No Return, nothing can save you except yourself. You're on your own in that dark and dreary minefield. I have to watch her go though this process and look back into my past and watch myself at the same time, when rather I wish I couldn't. It's impossible not to draw parallels, the recipe is the same. The outcome may be (I desperately hope for her sake) different, but the journey, that ugly awful journey, is almost a rite of passage everyone has to go through before they can reach the that Upper Plane of Wisdom.
You can tell upon meeting a person if they have had their heart broken and rebuilt. The fresh, sparkly gleam in their eyes is gone, replaced by a dull yet defined shine, the shine that has been attended to and polished but which cannot hide the cracks and mended places. When everyone discusses and gives opinions on what John should do about Mary, they stay quiet and listen with that patient look on their face, and you know they are a fellow member of the Club. The all-knowing and wise club of people that have experienced how life fucks you under, over, and all around town and regardless of any Plan you may have, it comes like a tidal wave and you're powerless. You can't, however, simply explain to a person about this if they are not in the Club. Experience is our leader. Initiation is an individual process not chosen by the individual. There's no grey area, either it's happened or it hasn't.
As I type this she is in our shower with her music going, wailing at the top of her lungs. I am ready to throw up or stab myself. The pure pain behind that noise is something I know all too well and would not wish on my worst enemy. I have to let it happen, though. I have to let her do this. It's a minefield tidal wave situation.
Another recruit for the Club.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Memo!!
After viewing photos of myself from today, have decided that a) am never wearing that pair of jeans again (despite them being my ONLY pair...), b) am getting liposuction (read: kitchen knife after many whiskeys) on triple chin, c) must make more effort not to look like a lesbian (because I am not one) (goes hand in hand with item a), have decided pants are bad news, must invest in dresses pronto) and d) am totally sick and tired and miserablefied of face, neck, arms, and generally anything that is not my feet.
I still like my feet. They're nice.
Note to self. Hide under bed, in tall boy, up chimney, behind cat, in TV, on roof, or any other place not generally inhabited by homo sapiens until half of self has melted under fire of sheer resentment. Then may rest of self enter civilisation and keep sense of decency and dignity, without pretending or avoiding eye contact with other selves for fear of blown cover and being exposed.
That is something best left to happen in the dark.
I still like my feet. They're nice.
Note to self. Hide under bed, in tall boy, up chimney, behind cat, in TV, on roof, or any other place not generally inhabited by homo sapiens until half of self has melted under fire of sheer resentment. Then may rest of self enter civilisation and keep sense of decency and dignity, without pretending or avoiding eye contact with other selves for fear of blown cover and being exposed.
That is something best left to happen in the dark.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Am I scientific genius??
Is there a measurement of darkness??
Toda I was walking around the house, at approximately 3 pm, acutely aware that every room I walked into required a great deal of squinting, and consequently fumbling for the light switch, on my part. So I thinks to myself, I thinks: "wow it must be at least... *blank search for word that conveys high amount of darkness in proportion to light, fail miserably, decide to continue with sentence anewa* ... really dark degrees in here!!"
Whilst chastising myself for saying something as retarded as "really dark degrees", even in my own private head, I am left wondering if there is such thing as a form of measurement for darkness. There is temperature degrees, and wind speed, and pressure... thingy, and humidity percentage, but what about light or the absence thereof?? I am vaguely aware that there is such thing as "candle power" and I'm pretty sure that guy Watt lent his name to something but I think that has something to do electricity... which is not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about "Hey- there's a crapload of clouds in that there sky. The sun's light, therefore, has been filtered and diluted, and has hereby minimised the amount of natural illumination available for the normal daylight hours that people usually like to do stuff in".
So if the day, which is generally sposed to be not dark, IS dark, how does one convey that to one's peers a bit more professionally than saying "it's a wee bit dark"?? Here is an example conversation which could happen (for science's sake, I'm going to invent a measurement of light. It will be called "Fules"):
*ring ring*
"Hello?"
"Hi Arnar, it's me, yore beloved"
"Oh hi beloved!! What's the happy haps??"
"Well, I was wondering what you were up to on this lovely fine da"
"I'm inside with all the lights on, it is not a Lovely Fine Da where I am!!"
"Oh, pra tell, why is that??"
"It's only 20 Fules here!!"
"Orly?? It's at least 80 Fules here!!"
"Crazy!! So how's yore mater??"
"My mater is pretty sweet. How's yore mater?? I have been wondering about her face."
I won't continue with the rest of the conversation because it got private.
The moral of the story is that there should be words for things that there aren't words for because it can make for some very awkward conversations with yoreself whilst you are in the shower.
Toda I was walking around the house, at approximately 3 pm, acutely aware that every room I walked into required a great deal of squinting, and consequently fumbling for the light switch, on my part. So I thinks to myself, I thinks: "wow it must be at least... *blank search for word that conveys high amount of darkness in proportion to light, fail miserably, decide to continue with sentence anewa* ... really dark degrees in here!!"
Whilst chastising myself for saying something as retarded as "really dark degrees", even in my own private head, I am left wondering if there is such thing as a form of measurement for darkness. There is temperature degrees, and wind speed, and pressure... thingy, and humidity percentage, but what about light or the absence thereof?? I am vaguely aware that there is such thing as "candle power" and I'm pretty sure that guy Watt lent his name to something but I think that has something to do electricity... which is not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about "Hey- there's a crapload of clouds in that there sky. The sun's light, therefore, has been filtered and diluted, and has hereby minimised the amount of natural illumination available for the normal daylight hours that people usually like to do stuff in".
So if the day, which is generally sposed to be not dark, IS dark, how does one convey that to one's peers a bit more professionally than saying "it's a wee bit dark"?? Here is an example conversation which could happen (for science's sake, I'm going to invent a measurement of light. It will be called "Fules"):
*ring ring*
"Hello?"
"Hi Arnar, it's me, yore beloved"
"Oh hi beloved!! What's the happy haps??"
"Well, I was wondering what you were up to on this lovely fine da"
"I'm inside with all the lights on, it is not a Lovely Fine Da where I am!!"
"Oh, pra tell, why is that??"
"It's only 20 Fules here!!"
"Orly?? It's at least 80 Fules here!!"
"Crazy!! So how's yore mater??"
"My mater is pretty sweet. How's yore mater?? I have been wondering about her face."
I won't continue with the rest of the conversation because it got private.
The moral of the story is that there should be words for things that there aren't words for because it can make for some very awkward conversations with yoreself whilst you are in the shower.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Peas be with you, and also with you.
My mother and stepfather popped round this afternoon, and I got such a fright. I had just settled down with some food and wine on the couch and for some reason was totally confused as to why they were on the doorstep so they pretty much invited themselves in while I stood there saying "...okay...". They then proceeded to boil the jug while deciding they didn't actually want a cup of tea.
I had half a glass of wine left in the bottle and instead of pouring it in the kitchen, I took it to the table with me. Maybe I thought it would make a nice centrepiece, I don't know. When my stepdad walks in, he glances down at the empty wine bottle, looks at me being all confused and spaced out at their presence, and says "so how long since the stress stopped?". Awesome. I can just hear him sayng to my mum at home "does Anna drink alone often?". Him studyng psychology and having had problems with alcohol in the past, he's probably gunna stage an intervention.
Mum kept asking me questions that she knew the answers to and questions that I didn't. After they left I felt incredibly tired. It was probably that halfglass.
In other news, I am continuing to possibly Achieve at Life. Toda, I tidied and cleaned half of my room. Literally half. You can see equatorial dust mark. I also shared a Moment with a lady walking past on the footpath, and rescued my peas.
I had half a glass of wine left in the bottle and instead of pouring it in the kitchen, I took it to the table with me. Maybe I thought it would make a nice centrepiece, I don't know. When my stepdad walks in, he glances down at the empty wine bottle, looks at me being all confused and spaced out at their presence, and says "so how long since the stress stopped?". Awesome. I can just hear him sayng to my mum at home "does Anna drink alone often?". Him studyng psychology and having had problems with alcohol in the past, he's probably gunna stage an intervention.
Mum kept asking me questions that she knew the answers to and questions that I didn't. After they left I felt incredibly tired. It was probably that halfglass.
In other news, I am continuing to possibly Achieve at Life. Toda, I tidied and cleaned half of my room. Literally half. You can see equatorial dust mark. I also shared a Moment with a lady walking past on the footpath, and rescued my peas.
I Can Has?
Kate the Kat is all bundled up between my legs
_________________________________
that was your moment for crude dirty jokes, moment over, moving on. She's so amazing and if she could talk I'm pretty sure she'd have a helluva lot to sa and we'd be BFFs.
I am currently under the impression that I may be slightly Achieving at Life. I am not so much Failing anymore, however I would not venture so far as to sa Winning. Of course, this could be one of those situations in which I have deluded myself into believing something which is not an actual truth through the little whisperers that whisper, then when they go for smoko the reality of It All comes crashing down around the ears they were trying to preserve and the eyes widen and the pupils dilate and I'm once agane all over the shop.
The point IS, most of the time I prefer being divorced from reality. The side effects include confusion, shock, and paranoia... but at least I can escape.
_________________________________
that was your moment for crude dirty jokes, moment over, moving on. She's so amazing and if she could talk I'm pretty sure she'd have a helluva lot to sa and we'd be BFFs.
I am currently under the impression that I may be slightly Achieving at Life. I am not so much Failing anymore, however I would not venture so far as to sa Winning. Of course, this could be one of those situations in which I have deluded myself into believing something which is not an actual truth through the little whisperers that whisper, then when they go for smoko the reality of It All comes crashing down around the ears they were trying to preserve and the eyes widen and the pupils dilate and I'm once agane all over the shop.
The point IS, most of the time I prefer being divorced from reality. The side effects include confusion, shock, and paranoia... but at least I can escape.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Riddle Me This
How can I??
How can I go somewhere if I don't know where it is??
How can I meet someone if I don't know who they are??
How can I do things or decide to do things when the only thing that's certain is that the future is uncertain??
How can I know what is right until I realise what is wrong??
How can I trust myself to trust myself when I keep failing myself??
How can I go against my instincts for the sole benefit of logic and reason??
How can I want to get away when all I want is home??
How can I go somewhere if I don't know where it is??
How can I meet someone if I don't know who they are??
How can I do things or decide to do things when the only thing that's certain is that the future is uncertain??
How can I know what is right until I realise what is wrong??
How can I trust myself to trust myself when I keep failing myself??
How can I go against my instincts for the sole benefit of logic and reason??
How can I want to get away when all I want is home??
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Can someone get me a Social Situation Gauge??
Okay, so firstly, a little while back, I commandeered the world's dwindling comma supply for the sole purpose of scattering them around like confetti. Secondly, I emailed High Macleod.... and he emailed me back. It was almost exciting as when Max Gimblett emailed me back. Look him up if you don't know who he is. I assure you he is FAMOUS. For some reason, spending the whole day with him wasn't anywhere near star-striking as recieving an email from him was... maybe cos there were other people there too and he was SUPPOSED to be doing that, as opposed to sending off one itsy-bitsy little email to a silly-billy girl.
Anyway, I was talking about Hugh. The good thing is that while what seems like a gazillion people know Hugh Macleod, he's still at the the stage where he reads ALL his emails and tries to reply. In fact, he encourages it. Cool huh. It's all part of his philosophy thingy.... and besides, I got all happy cos I still find the internet AMAZING. This guy from Texas was talking to me!! Who ordinarily I would never have the chance to know.... isn't technology just grand.
Tomorrow is my younger stepsister's 17th birthday. So her and the older one came for dinner tonight... mum was her usual, gushy self. It sickens me because it's all very well being friendly to your stepdaughters, but she acts like she's still trying to impress them. HELLO. Time for that= SO long gone you could lay flowers on its grave. Their father lives here. The eldest lived here for a month. STOP TREATING THEM LIKE GUESTS WHEN THEY DON'T BEHAVE LIKE THEM!! So, there was this dinner, and mum decided to make a toast (mum's never toasted ME!!) and all that rubbish. The 2 daughters act all weird and sisterly all the time, make jokes between themselves, saying silly things, and for some reason whenever I say anything lighthearted to them (heaven knows I have tried to be nice to them, I really have) they just shut up. Look at me like I have just announced it's time for the family bath. But, dinner was going really well, with no stupid moments like there usually are cos they both think they're the bee's knees, and at the toast mum said something like "and here's to another year!!" and everyone was like "yeah!!" and I said "we hope!!" and laughed. Usually when something like that is said somebody else chimes in with "yeah, if we're lucky!!" or "not if she keeps driving like that!!" etc, continuing on the joke.
But no.
Instead, there was an awkward silence where I realised my social faux pas and desperately tried to make it lighter by saying "heh, sorry, couldn't resist!!". Mum then proceeded to get embarrassed and say "she's no daughter of mine" and scold me (yes, that's right. When they got here she actually asked me if I said hello yet. I had, not that they deserve it. They pretend I'm not in the room and are made more uncomfortable when I disprove this by speaking to them) then spoke in this sickening voice to Madam the Youngest about something or rather.
It pissed me off. I DON'T understand people sometimes.
It's okay tho, because later on mum offered chocolate icecream to everyone and Madam the Eldest said "no thanks, it's dairy" (which she can't eat) and mum goes "oh that's okay, we have yoghurt too". Hahahaha!! Except... that time, everyone laughed.
It would been way better if my brother was there. I felt like the lone tomato in a green salad.
Anyway, I was talking about Hugh. The good thing is that while what seems like a gazillion people know Hugh Macleod, he's still at the the stage where he reads ALL his emails and tries to reply. In fact, he encourages it. Cool huh. It's all part of his philosophy thingy.... and besides, I got all happy cos I still find the internet AMAZING. This guy from Texas was talking to me!! Who ordinarily I would never have the chance to know.... isn't technology just grand.
Tomorrow is my younger stepsister's 17th birthday. So her and the older one came for dinner tonight... mum was her usual, gushy self. It sickens me because it's all very well being friendly to your stepdaughters, but she acts like she's still trying to impress them. HELLO. Time for that= SO long gone you could lay flowers on its grave. Their father lives here. The eldest lived here for a month. STOP TREATING THEM LIKE GUESTS WHEN THEY DON'T BEHAVE LIKE THEM!! So, there was this dinner, and mum decided to make a toast (mum's never toasted ME!!) and all that rubbish. The 2 daughters act all weird and sisterly all the time, make jokes between themselves, saying silly things, and for some reason whenever I say anything lighthearted to them (heaven knows I have tried to be nice to them, I really have) they just shut up. Look at me like I have just announced it's time for the family bath. But, dinner was going really well, with no stupid moments like there usually are cos they both think they're the bee's knees, and at the toast mum said something like "and here's to another year!!" and everyone was like "yeah!!" and I said "we hope!!" and laughed. Usually when something like that is said somebody else chimes in with "yeah, if we're lucky!!" or "not if she keeps driving like that!!" etc, continuing on the joke.
But no.
Instead, there was an awkward silence where I realised my social faux pas and desperately tried to make it lighter by saying "heh, sorry, couldn't resist!!". Mum then proceeded to get embarrassed and say "she's no daughter of mine" and scold me (yes, that's right. When they got here she actually asked me if I said hello yet. I had, not that they deserve it. They pretend I'm not in the room and are made more uncomfortable when I disprove this by speaking to them) then spoke in this sickening voice to Madam the Youngest about something or rather.
It pissed me off. I DON'T understand people sometimes.
It's okay tho, because later on mum offered chocolate icecream to everyone and Madam the Eldest said "no thanks, it's dairy" (which she can't eat) and mum goes "oh that's okay, we have yoghurt too". Hahahaha!! Except... that time, everyone laughed.
It would been way better if my brother was there. I felt like the lone tomato in a green salad.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Would you really rush out...
I am writing. I have so, so many ideas. I'm desperately trying to pin them down. But they get jumbled, and bumbled, and mumbled into my ear, and I can't translate very well. The occasional lucid thought that ends up a well-formed opinion is frantically scribbled or typed (depending on my frame of mind). But yes, it's getting out there and down there and around there.
I have an issue, though. Once they're out, they have no purpose. They don't know what to do with themselves. They just sit around. It's frustrating. I wish they could run free. But on which road??
Somebody, please, sort out my issues for me. It's too much.
I can play one song on guitar.
I have an issue, though. Once they're out, they have no purpose. They don't know what to do with themselves. They just sit around. It's frustrating. I wish they could run free. But on which road??
Somebody, please, sort out my issues for me. It's too much.
I can play one song on guitar.
Friday, April 24, 2009
As I speak to you this evening
Not sure what to write at the moment. Head slightly fuzzy. But want to write something. Sick of staring at terribly bright screen with eyes that complain worse than a chained-up puppy. But want to release little voices that scratch and claw at my skull.
It's your typical Catch-22.
Anyone got any ideas??
It's your typical Catch-22.
Anyone got any ideas??
Monday, April 13, 2009
Slipped on a Banana Peel
Man alive, the wedding has come and gone and we're all back to our somewhat exhausted selves. I slept solidly last night (not liquidly) and I still feel like death. I think the best part was meeting all the new people. I LOVE new people. I don't love people who I've already met and then they change into other people I don't know, cos that's just weird, and people should only be people, not masks.
But there were some very genuine, fantastic people that are attached to my new stepfather and hence now me, and I'm quite glad of that fact. I think EVERYONE should get married just for the social consequences. You see how people behave in so many conditions. You get to know the true essence of people, you see their core, because of the huge variety of different social environments we're all smooshed into and it's too much to think about how you should react, you just do. Because it's a lot more of behaving rather than speaking, it's very easy to see people. Which is kind of ironic, someone else might say the complete opposite- that a wedding is where everyone stands around plastered with smiles and well wishes and it's a chance to forget who they are and think about someone else for a change, but in my experience, it's not that way. Well it is, but it's not. I'm not sounding very coherent anymore and hardly anybody understands me when I do, so mayhap I should wrap it up in paper and call it a cheeseburger.
It's... Tuesday afternoon and I am STILL wiped out.
But there were some very genuine, fantastic people that are attached to my new stepfather and hence now me, and I'm quite glad of that fact. I think EVERYONE should get married just for the social consequences. You see how people behave in so many conditions. You get to know the true essence of people, you see their core, because of the huge variety of different social environments we're all smooshed into and it's too much to think about how you should react, you just do. Because it's a lot more of behaving rather than speaking, it's very easy to see people. Which is kind of ironic, someone else might say the complete opposite- that a wedding is where everyone stands around plastered with smiles and well wishes and it's a chance to forget who they are and think about someone else for a change, but in my experience, it's not that way. Well it is, but it's not. I'm not sounding very coherent anymore and hardly anybody understands me when I do, so mayhap I should wrap it up in paper and call it a cheeseburger.
It's... Tuesday afternoon and I am STILL wiped out.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
I just found a bug in my wine, and then it died.
It drowned in the grapes and was then preserved in the alcohol. Death by cheap grog!! Luckily, it was not large, so the death would have been quick. I fished it out and flicked it away. Survival of the biggest.
What do you think?? Recently, I have been defamed. De-famed, wrongly framed, mis-named and badly blamed. Has it happened once?? Oh no, my friend. TWICE.
I can prove to myself that I am weak as I power through a bottle of ten dollar vino, feel the acid rise in my throat and the regret rise in my head, repeating to myself the same old mantra: "you are ridiculous. Don't do this again. Careful you don't get a horrible habit. Don't do this again". I know full well I will do this again. I also know that it means I'm easily swayed by my own arguments and possibly by others', too (alright, so I'm very impressionable. Take me for granted, why don't you). I know I'm a disappointment to many and that most of my actions prove to be my undoing. However.....
ON MY OWN HEAD SO BE IT.
What gives anyone the right to take me and make me into a scapegoat?? This goat will not scape for anyone but herself or someone of her own appointment, thank you very much and don't trip over the cat on your way out.
It's entirely possible that I'm stupid; I am constantly surprised when life (i.e. other people) turns around and slaps me in the face while I'm looking for the pretty bird it pointed out to me. Then I'm so shocked, because it hurt; and confused, because I want to know if there really WAS a pretty bird; and annoyed, because I really wanted to see that bird, and if there is no bird, then I got excited for nothing, and Life has now run away laughing its head off and I can't ask it the truth.
So I'm left there holding my cheek with an exclamation kinda half flopped out of my mouth, having never had the energy to propel itself all the way to completion.
"Wha...tttt...????"
This happens EVERY TIME. And I still never see it coming, do not realise what's happening at the time, and cough pathetically when it leaves me in its dust!!
When life gives me lemons, I say "Yay lemons!! I love lemon smell!" and sit there smelling their skin while the acid slowly burns through my soul.
These people are bad people. They destroy me with their lies and harassments, when I did not ask for it.
Why??
I don't know... do you??
Are you really that pure, sir??
Thought I saw you in Vegas....
it wasn't pretty
but she was
(not your wife)
but she will wake up wealthy
and you will wake up 45
and she will wake up with baby
there but for the grace of God go I
what am I fighting for
the cops are at my front door
I can't escape that way, the windows are in flames
but I still do believe
and I will rise up with fists
and I will take what's mine, mine, mine
there but for the grace of God go I
- Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins, "Rise Up with Fists"
What do you think?? Recently, I have been defamed. De-famed, wrongly framed, mis-named and badly blamed. Has it happened once?? Oh no, my friend. TWICE.
I can prove to myself that I am weak as I power through a bottle of ten dollar vino, feel the acid rise in my throat and the regret rise in my head, repeating to myself the same old mantra: "you are ridiculous. Don't do this again. Careful you don't get a horrible habit. Don't do this again". I know full well I will do this again. I also know that it means I'm easily swayed by my own arguments and possibly by others', too (alright, so I'm very impressionable. Take me for granted, why don't you). I know I'm a disappointment to many and that most of my actions prove to be my undoing. However.....
ON MY OWN HEAD SO BE IT.
What gives anyone the right to take me and make me into a scapegoat?? This goat will not scape for anyone but herself or someone of her own appointment, thank you very much and don't trip over the cat on your way out.
It's entirely possible that I'm stupid; I am constantly surprised when life (i.e. other people) turns around and slaps me in the face while I'm looking for the pretty bird it pointed out to me. Then I'm so shocked, because it hurt; and confused, because I want to know if there really WAS a pretty bird; and annoyed, because I really wanted to see that bird, and if there is no bird, then I got excited for nothing, and Life has now run away laughing its head off and I can't ask it the truth.
So I'm left there holding my cheek with an exclamation kinda half flopped out of my mouth, having never had the energy to propel itself all the way to completion.
"Wha...tttt...????"
This happens EVERY TIME. And I still never see it coming, do not realise what's happening at the time, and cough pathetically when it leaves me in its dust!!
When life gives me lemons, I say "Yay lemons!! I love lemon smell!" and sit there smelling their skin while the acid slowly burns through my soul.
These people are bad people. They destroy me with their lies and harassments, when I did not ask for it.
Why??
I don't know... do you??
Are you really that pure, sir??
Thought I saw you in Vegas....
it wasn't pretty
but she was
(not your wife)
but she will wake up wealthy
and you will wake up 45
and she will wake up with baby
there but for the grace of God go I
what am I fighting for
the cops are at my front door
I can't escape that way, the windows are in flames
but I still do believe
and I will rise up with fists
and I will take what's mine, mine, mine
there but for the grace of God go I
- Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins, "Rise Up with Fists"
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Come on, Universe, make me Special!!
So many words that have been deleted. If only the delete button could talk (it would probably talk backwards).
I'm tentatively attempting to start writing songs. I figured it was about time I got my hands dirty instead of just watching and cheering and whooping at the mudwrestling from the stands for so long. Of course I have a lot of the lyrics already penned, and I also have enough musical knowledge to know what sounds good and how to make it so, but as soon as I sit down to the piano I just see an endless highway of black and white keys stretching before me and I know full well how to make them make noise that sounds good, but only up to Tinkle Standards, not Proper Music Standards worthy for other ears. Then I try to sing pathetic melodies and thank god that I only do this when I'm home alone.
Why is it that I hear so many songs by artists I adore that are just one instrument, a voice that isn't even anything special, and lyrics that look dead when you read them on a page but are alive in your ears, and I think they are brilliant and worthy and something I aspire to?? And I also think- wow, I could do that!! Then when I try using my un-special voice and my dead words and my highway instrument they just mush together like a terrible dish using far too uncomplementary ingredients and the high chef tells you to get out the kitchen cos you shouldn't cook for starving children let alone people who are expecting something halfway decent, how dare you think you could succeed in this profession. And then my song which isn't even in the 2nd trimester of development yet but was shaping up to be something acceptable with ten fingers ten toes, falls flat on the floor and is aborted by the sheer force of Fear of Failure. Goodbye, we'll never see you again, little individual.
I think it comes from not being able to play enough instruments. I should be able to play percussion strings brass el-ec-tric woodwind and glockenschpiel all by myself and all at once, then I could write epic monumental pieces of lyrical and notational genuis and everyone will love me because I am oh-so-talented and have such a unique sound. I will be on the other side of the fence, on top of the world, under the influence, around the bend and inside the eye.
I think Hugh is my brain father.
I'm tentatively attempting to start writing songs. I figured it was about time I got my hands dirty instead of just watching and cheering and whooping at the mudwrestling from the stands for so long. Of course I have a lot of the lyrics already penned, and I also have enough musical knowledge to know what sounds good and how to make it so, but as soon as I sit down to the piano I just see an endless highway of black and white keys stretching before me and I know full well how to make them make noise that sounds good, but only up to Tinkle Standards, not Proper Music Standards worthy for other ears. Then I try to sing pathetic melodies and thank god that I only do this when I'm home alone.
Why is it that I hear so many songs by artists I adore that are just one instrument, a voice that isn't even anything special, and lyrics that look dead when you read them on a page but are alive in your ears, and I think they are brilliant and worthy and something I aspire to?? And I also think- wow, I could do that!! Then when I try using my un-special voice and my dead words and my highway instrument they just mush together like a terrible dish using far too uncomplementary ingredients and the high chef tells you to get out the kitchen cos you shouldn't cook for starving children let alone people who are expecting something halfway decent, how dare you think you could succeed in this profession. And then my song which isn't even in the 2nd trimester of development yet but was shaping up to be something acceptable with ten fingers ten toes, falls flat on the floor and is aborted by the sheer force of Fear of Failure. Goodbye, we'll never see you again, little individual.
I think it comes from not being able to play enough instruments. I should be able to play percussion strings brass el-ec-tric woodwind and glockenschpiel all by myself and all at once, then I could write epic monumental pieces of lyrical and notational genuis and everyone will love me because I am oh-so-talented and have such a unique sound. I will be on the other side of the fence, on top of the world, under the influence, around the bend and inside the eye.
I think Hugh is my brain father.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Promotion!! Marketing!! Advertisement!!
Throughout this entire blog there have been a few cartoons (although I feel more comfortable calling them drawings, their brilliant creator describes them as cartoons) slapped at the end of each post, some of them grim, some of them hilarious, all of them fantastic. I first discovered gapingvoid quite a few years ago and saved a lot of the drawings to my computer and throw them in every now and then to emphasise or illustrate a certain post and because I want all the world (or the handful of people who read this, anyway) to see them and appreciate how awesome they are, and because their creator manages to express so many things that I wish I could in the most talented way that I wish I could.
I have recently discovered the name of this mysterious yet brilliant creator, and have added a little doohickey onto the side of my blog, up thereish-------------->
in order to give him the credit that has long been owed to him and which he deserves. So thankyou, Hugh Macleod- you Crazy, Deranged Fool- for unknowlingly helping me along my way in the crazy and mostly anonymous world of blogging and for your fantastic creations. Good luck to you and this post is my little conribution in exchange for you sharing all your brilliant work and thoughts with us.
And now I will unashamedly advertise on Hugh's behalf:
Right, now I'm off to find a thesaurus to look up synonyms for "brilliant" and "fantastic" because I don't particularly feel very intelligent using them over and over again, and it doesn't do the subject matter much justice by waffling on like a crazed fan with an addled brain (even if it's self-confessed Crazed Fan with Addled Brain).
Thank You Very Much Mr. Hugh Macleod
I have recently discovered the name of this mysterious yet brilliant creator, and have added a little doohickey onto the side of my blog, up thereish-------------->
in order to give him the credit that has long been owed to him and which he deserves. So thankyou, Hugh Macleod- you Crazy, Deranged Fool- for unknowlingly helping me along my way in the crazy and mostly anonymous world of blogging and for your fantastic creations. Good luck to you and this post is my little conribution in exchange for you sharing all your brilliant work and thoughts with us.
And now I will unashamedly advertise on Hugh's behalf:
www.gapingvoid.comwww.gapingvoid.com
www.gapingvoid.com
www.gapingvoid.com
Right, now I'm off to find a thesaurus to look up synonyms for "brilliant" and "fantastic" because I don't particularly feel very intelligent using them over and over again, and it doesn't do the subject matter much justice by waffling on like a crazed fan with an addled brain (even if it's self-confessed Crazed Fan with Addled Brain).
Thank You Very Much Mr. Hugh Macleod
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
It's the lack (Medicated, Drama Queen, Picture Perfect, Numb Belligerence)
Did you know:
whenever I am bullied (alright alright, I mean "gently encouraged") into writing a new blog post I never have any clue what I am going to write about. I ususally just sit here staring at the white space, daunted and missing the inspiration that scampered off quick as a flash as soon as I got to the log-in page. There are many TRIVIAL things I could say, such as:
- the cicadas outside are slowly driving me insane
- the cows who have been weaned from their calves outside are slowly driving me insane
- my mother, bless her, is slowly driving me insane
- my room is slowly driving me insane
- my lack of music is slowly driving me insane
- my lack of talent is slowly driving me insane
- my lack of job and money shouldn't, but really is, slowly driving me insane
- my lack of direction, goals, purpose, drive, being a somebody, life are slowly driving me insane
- myself and everything to do with my life are slowly driving me insane
Kelly comes back tomorrow!!
Friday, January 02, 2009
We are Rainbow Warriorrs, evil come not near...
Happy frigging New Year, everybody. Hope your extra second that they added to Time just before the new year rolled in was an absolute blast, that you kissed the nearest extremely attractive stranger, and in that tiny second of sharing your oral cavity and everything inside it and fulfilling your single common interest at that moment, your hearts burst open and you realised you have found your soul mate and you ran off together hand in hand into the golden glow of the morning sun rising, or a fire caused by misuse of fireworks, to make lots of babies and get married a zillion times over on various different beaches in the Mediterranean, each one better than the last, and the extremely attractive stranger had a trust fund worth an entire city so you can spend the rest of your days rolling around in fields of sunflowers and picking up interesting looking shells outside your beach front mansion that you only use when that horrid man next door hosts his awful week-long garden parties.
As much as I could wish that upon anybody, you probly spent New Year's like everyone else, too drunk to realise that it's anything significant and stuck in your happy place till dinner comes rolling back up again and finds itself in the nearest very thorny bush. I myself did neither of those things, for which I guess I should be glad.
Anyway, you have 2 options now. The first is what I call the "Oops, Forgive My Amnesia/Lack Of Caring" option. You can use this fresh and still clean smelling year to make amends for, cover up, or else just plain forget anything that you might need to- things you would be quite happy to see the back of, for instance. Wave bye bye and cheerio, now let's all have a nice hot cuppa tea before we catch cold. Or there is the "Come Here You Nasty Piece Of Work, You Feisty Beast" option. And that, dear friends, is pretty much self explanatory (who else LOVES that phrase?? I love saying it, it just tumbles out of the mouth so full of grace and ease like silk scarves out of magician's hat) but for those still affected by excess revelling, it means you take the bull by the horns and DON'T see the new year as a convenient excuse to turn your back on things left unconcluded, rather you see it as finally a hefty push towards getting your A into G and sorting shit out, so it won't follow you around like a ball and chain dragging you down into the depths of "Did you ever sort that thing out?? You know, when you did ______ with _____ last year".
So those are your basic options. As for me, I choose what I call simply "Option C". Sit there staring at the ball and chain, hating its weight and clanking, but slightly fond of the old girl as you've grown used to the company; scratching your head and neither turning your back and walking away pretending you can't hear it following, nor walking towards it with a hefty pair of industrial-strength chain cutters. Just sitting and staring and thinking "Hmmmm. What the fuck am I gunna do about this then aye". 
As much as I could wish that upon anybody, you probly spent New Year's like everyone else, too drunk to realise that it's anything significant and stuck in your happy place till dinner comes rolling back up again and finds itself in the nearest very thorny bush. I myself did neither of those things, for which I guess I should be glad.
Anyway, you have 2 options now. The first is what I call the "Oops, Forgive My Amnesia/Lack Of Caring" option. You can use this fresh and still clean smelling year to make amends for, cover up, or else just plain forget anything that you might need to- things you would be quite happy to see the back of, for instance. Wave bye bye and cheerio, now let's all have a nice hot cuppa tea before we catch cold. Or there is the "Come Here You Nasty Piece Of Work, You Feisty Beast" option. And that, dear friends, is pretty much self explanatory (who else LOVES that phrase?? I love saying it, it just tumbles out of the mouth so full of grace and ease like silk scarves out of magician's hat) but for those still affected by excess revelling, it means you take the bull by the horns and DON'T see the new year as a convenient excuse to turn your back on things left unconcluded, rather you see it as finally a hefty push towards getting your A into G and sorting shit out, so it won't follow you around like a ball and chain dragging you down into the depths of "Did you ever sort that thing out?? You know, when you did ______ with _____ last year".
So those are your basic options. As for me, I choose what I call simply "Option C". Sit there staring at the ball and chain, hating its weight and clanking, but slightly fond of the old girl as you've grown used to the company; scratching your head and neither turning your back and walking away pretending you can't hear it following, nor walking towards it with a hefty pair of industrial-strength chain cutters. Just sitting and staring and thinking "Hmmmm. What the fuck am I gunna do about this then aye".
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Learning Curves and Curving Learns
I can't report on anything joyful right now, except that it's almost Christmas. I happen to like Christmas so to all those people who whinge that it's "too commercialised" and has "lost its meaning", I agree with you, but can you go stick it where the sun don't shine?? You're ruining it for those of us who choose to accept but ignore all that and can see through a Coke-coloured Santa to a good time once a year spent with family and friends where people are forced to care about each other. Surely you can give us that one teeny tiny day of goodwill, hmmm?? And go complain about the ads the other 364 days you get. Gorn, git. Git oudda town.
I'm actually not happy at this parTICular point in time, but that's okay, because it's my own fault, and in a kind of macarbre way I'm happy that I'm sad cos I have learned an extreme amount about extreme things. New things, shiny things, faded and dull things, old things that are shiny underneath, they're all floating around in the Pool of Surprising Things Life Throws At You like some kind of freakish debris that you DON'T wanna get out with that giant sieve thing that people clean pools with. So yes, it's a dirty pool, but an interesting and pretty much needed one.
I dunno what else to say on the subject, except Merry Christmas, please make sure you see past yourself and actually value the time you spend with your family and friends. It ain't hard, life is short, and you never know what it's gunna thow at you and who you're gunna lose for whatever reason.
I'm actually not happy at this parTICular point in time, but that's okay, because it's my own fault, and in a kind of macarbre way I'm happy that I'm sad cos I have learned an extreme amount about extreme things. New things, shiny things, faded and dull things, old things that are shiny underneath, they're all floating around in the Pool of Surprising Things Life Throws At You like some kind of freakish debris that you DON'T wanna get out with that giant sieve thing that people clean pools with. So yes, it's a dirty pool, but an interesting and pretty much needed one.
I dunno what else to say on the subject, except Merry Christmas, please make sure you see past yourself and actually value the time you spend with your family and friends. It ain't hard, life is short, and you never know what it's gunna thow at you and who you're gunna lose for whatever reason.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!!
Hello and Good Morrow.
Gareth was so stoked with our pool the excitement was far too much and he had to have a snooze.
While the pool went through the painful process of being filled for the first time, Kim decided to offer a bit of moral support and stand with it until the ordeal was over.
Once again people are jet-setting all over the show: I can count 3 people in 3 different countries on 3 of my fingers. Or toes, if I can be bothered pointing my leg skyward. Regardless of which extremities I use for maths equations (you should see me do Trigonometry, it's like watching a game of Twister for One), I am back here click-clacking away on my mother's frustratingly ergonomic but very strain-preventing keyboard. Judy, the young ratbag, has taken off to Austrahliah to do various Judyish things, to be honest I am not surprised, it happened just as fast as it did when she took off to Finininland, something I didn't realise was happening until we were at the airport and I was sitting on the ground bawling my eyes out with Kelly's mum patting me on the back going "it's not fair, is it??" after watching her own daughter disappear through the gate as well. That hungry, greedy gate which swallows all my friends. Well I tell you one thing, Smith, one day it will be ME who is swallowed. That's right, and YOU can sit on the ground and cry. Yeah. Damn Straight. If that's not a life goal I dunno what is.
We got a paddling pool the other day and I love it. I have been wanting a paddling pool for as long as about 3 years, then the other day Kim and Gareth were here and it was hot and sunny and we had just put up the Gazebo which I had found while looking for an umbrella, which Marcus was very Downy about, he seemed to think that putting up the gazebo would "take years, it's like a puzzle, it's too hard" and we got it up in about 10 minutes while he sat on the steps yelling out helpful suggestions such as the ones above. And I was thinking "wouldn't it be swell to have a bit of water to puddle around in" so we all got in the car and went to the Warewhare and got our pool (30% off, scooooooore!!), and when we got it home and filled it up, the sky had clouded over. Kim and I still sat in it though. We moved the gazebo over it and took off its legs, so made a kind of sun house with gazebo roof and pool walls and water floor, and it was AWESOME.
Gareth was so stoked with our pool the excitement was far too much and he had to have a snooze.
While the pool went through the painful process of being filled for the first time, Kim decided to offer a bit of moral support and stand with it until the ordeal was over.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Pontoons and Puberty
Recently I have experienced many Changes. And no I'm not talking about an extremely late onset of puberty, I'm not going to ask why there is hair in places that there wasn't before, I mean Life Changes.
It's terrifying that things can change just like that without you wanting them to. I mean, it makes NO SENSE. It's your own life, right?? So how come things just... happen to you?? And what's even more stupid is that you can't change them back. If something is, then never again can it not be. That sentence made more sense to me than getting up in the morning does.
It's unfortunate, the way things work really, grammar and punctuation keep us in line but there is nothing to stop the onslaught in our brains from spilling out and wreaking havoc on unsuspecting members of the group known as Humanity. So I guess... that's why stuff happens and I have just answered my own question. There is nothing holding us back. And because we can't change what has already happened, we are constantly trying to move further and further on from that using different happenings as pontoons.
Connections made and others fade. Nothing is assumed or else be constantly disappointed!!
Huh. Good morning.
Special "Wave Hello" to Tomas... thanks for being my first unknown!! I hope I can continue to entertain you.
It's terrifying that things can change just like that without you wanting them to. I mean, it makes NO SENSE. It's your own life, right?? So how come things just... happen to you?? And what's even more stupid is that you can't change them back. If something is, then never again can it not be. That sentence made more sense to me than getting up in the morning does.
It's unfortunate, the way things work really, grammar and punctuation keep us in line but there is nothing to stop the onslaught in our brains from spilling out and wreaking havoc on unsuspecting members of the group known as Humanity. So I guess... that's why stuff happens and I have just answered my own question. There is nothing holding us back. And because we can't change what has already happened, we are constantly trying to move further and further on from that using different happenings as pontoons.
Connections made and others fade. Nothing is assumed or else be constantly disappointed!!
Huh. Good morning.
Special "Wave Hello" to Tomas... thanks for being my first unknown!! I hope I can continue to entertain you.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
R.I.P. The Sun/Nasty Cloud Flower
Well, it is with a heavy heart and flower pot that I must report on the passing of The Sun/Nasty Cloud Flower.
I never expected it to live to a very ripe age. In fact, the instructions on the seed packet said to plant in Spring-Summer... so I planted in Autumn-Winter. Just to see what would happen.
I was so happy when it developed a flower!! It was amazing to watch my little sproutling grow up and up and up....
Then one day, while pulling back the curtains (the pot was on the window sill) then unthinkable happened. I tugged too hard and the curtain snapped my little flower in half. I was so sad, I thought it was gunna die, and such a horrid way too. It was bent right in half. Then I noticed that the skin wasn't broken!! And I thought.... it could set itself right if I just got it standing back up again. So I sellotaped it, like a bandage, and it lived. I was so proud of my little flower... surviving in the face of adversity and menacing curtains.
Unfortunately, the age-old saying "if things get wet they will go mouldy" comes into effect at this stage of the story.
My little flower died of mould poisoning.
The position of our place means that we get no winter sun aside from about 2 inches on the same window sill my flower was sitting on, which is why it was there. But the sun is weak, and doesn't shine for very long- and my sunflower didn't get its name from Korea. It simply wasn't enough to dry out the condensation and moisture that built up on the window every day. Moisture that was passed onto my sun-loving bloom.
I would trim the leaves when I noticed they looked mould-tinged, but my efforts were in vain. Finally, one day, I looked at my flower and saw that the deadly fungus had reached the petals themselves.
My flower lead a happy life, despite being slowly killed from the outside by fungus spores and forced to live in conditions it just wasn't made for. I am proud that it grew at all, and then lived for as long as it did. The short amount of time that it took for death to come to my flower means nothing- rather, the fact that it lived at all remains a testament to not only myself but to anyone anywhere wanting to do anything in the face of logical, factual, and rational opposition.
I grew a sunflower in Winter. And it lived.
In honour of my flower, I have developed a short photo montage:
A Life Well Lived:
My Little Sproutling- full of Youth and Exuberance
The Golden Years. The Flower that Saw The Sun.
Rest In Peace.
(I find it ironic that the window looks like it is crying here- it was that same window and the moisture on it that killed the poor little flower. Too little too late!!)
I never expected it to live to a very ripe age. In fact, the instructions on the seed packet said to plant in Spring-Summer... so I planted in Autumn-Winter. Just to see what would happen.
I was so happy when it developed a flower!! It was amazing to watch my little sproutling grow up and up and up....
Then one day, while pulling back the curtains (the pot was on the window sill) then unthinkable happened. I tugged too hard and the curtain snapped my little flower in half. I was so sad, I thought it was gunna die, and such a horrid way too. It was bent right in half. Then I noticed that the skin wasn't broken!! And I thought.... it could set itself right if I just got it standing back up again. So I sellotaped it, like a bandage, and it lived. I was so proud of my little flower... surviving in the face of adversity and menacing curtains.
Unfortunately, the age-old saying "if things get wet they will go mouldy" comes into effect at this stage of the story.
My little flower died of mould poisoning.
The position of our place means that we get no winter sun aside from about 2 inches on the same window sill my flower was sitting on, which is why it was there. But the sun is weak, and doesn't shine for very long- and my sunflower didn't get its name from Korea. It simply wasn't enough to dry out the condensation and moisture that built up on the window every day. Moisture that was passed onto my sun-loving bloom.
I would trim the leaves when I noticed they looked mould-tinged, but my efforts were in vain. Finally, one day, I looked at my flower and saw that the deadly fungus had reached the petals themselves.
My flower lead a happy life, despite being slowly killed from the outside by fungus spores and forced to live in conditions it just wasn't made for. I am proud that it grew at all, and then lived for as long as it did. The short amount of time that it took for death to come to my flower means nothing- rather, the fact that it lived at all remains a testament to not only myself but to anyone anywhere wanting to do anything in the face of logical, factual, and rational opposition.
I grew a sunflower in Winter. And it lived.
In honour of my flower, I have developed a short photo montage:
A Life Well Lived:
My Little Sproutling- full of Youth and Exuberance
The Golden Years. The Flower that Saw The Sun.
Rest In Peace.
(I find it ironic that the window looks like it is crying here- it was that same window and the moisture on it that killed the poor little flower. Too little too late!!)
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Dear Diary
Aloha, fondue, and other exotic sounding words!!
Christian and I have safely made it back to Ye Olde Capitale Cytie. He is currently getting groceries because we arrived home to a lovely musty house and a lovely fridge full of condiments and leeks.
Mmmmm, appetising.
Firstly, I'm very sorry for letting down a certain person by not making it to see her, and I hope she understands that I truly was rather ill and that just cos I was visiting other people the night before doesn't mean we had a rolicking good time, in fact we watched a movie and all went to bed rather early. I hope she also knows that I have something in mind to make it up to her and that I, too, was very disappointed that we couldn't co-ordinate ourselves better. I sincerely deplore her to take this to heart because she knows full well I love her very much but if she doesn't want to speak to me any time this year I will understand.
Aside from that, we had such a good time!! Seeing people rules!! And, as always, I am grateful to Sally for being a semi-kindred spirit. It's nice to have a natter in a book shop amongst the book-smelling bookshelves discussing atrocious library practices while "sidling" all the while towards the delicious lemon sponge thingies, that were so conveniently placed at our end of the snack table. I am also grateful to my wonderful poppet Judy for, even though some might say it wasn't possible, bringing out my silly side even more than usual and turning everything I say into some sort of idiotic quote. I always know where I will be appreciated!! And that is at a Scrabble board with the two gorgeous Ingham sisters. Mwah.
Other activities included a sleepover with Sarah where we drank delicious apple wine and discovered how fun it is to play Pictionary in charades-type form while tipsy- good fun!! And eating naughty foods that will definitely not make us weigh 65 kg. And I woke up in the morning to my mum standing over me telling me that Judy's mum was in the Williamson's lounge with another man, all the while Sarah's mum saying to her "see I told you she was asleep". It was a very confusing time for me.
Well, I should sign out now, and do something productive. I have the BIGGEST day tomorrow, like ELEPHANT size. But not a baby one, a grand daddy one. With the long spikey tusks.
I will catch you all soon like this dreadful cough I can't get rid of.
xoxoxo
Christian and I have safely made it back to Ye Olde Capitale Cytie. He is currently getting groceries because we arrived home to a lovely musty house and a lovely fridge full of condiments and leeks.
Mmmmm, appetising.
Firstly, I'm very sorry for letting down a certain person by not making it to see her, and I hope she understands that I truly was rather ill and that just cos I was visiting other people the night before doesn't mean we had a rolicking good time, in fact we watched a movie and all went to bed rather early. I hope she also knows that I have something in mind to make it up to her and that I, too, was very disappointed that we couldn't co-ordinate ourselves better. I sincerely deplore her to take this to heart because she knows full well I love her very much but if she doesn't want to speak to me any time this year I will understand.
Aside from that, we had such a good time!! Seeing people rules!! And, as always, I am grateful to Sally for being a semi-kindred spirit. It's nice to have a natter in a book shop amongst the book-smelling bookshelves discussing atrocious library practices while "sidling" all the while towards the delicious lemon sponge thingies, that were so conveniently placed at our end of the snack table. I am also grateful to my wonderful poppet Judy for, even though some might say it wasn't possible, bringing out my silly side even more than usual and turning everything I say into some sort of idiotic quote. I always know where I will be appreciated!! And that is at a Scrabble board with the two gorgeous Ingham sisters. Mwah.
Other activities included a sleepover with Sarah where we drank delicious apple wine and discovered how fun it is to play Pictionary in charades-type form while tipsy- good fun!! And eating naughty foods that will definitely not make us weigh 65 kg. And I woke up in the morning to my mum standing over me telling me that Judy's mum was in the Williamson's lounge with another man, all the while Sarah's mum saying to her "see I told you she was asleep". It was a very confusing time for me.
Well, I should sign out now, and do something productive. I have the BIGGEST day tomorrow, like ELEPHANT size. But not a baby one, a grand daddy one. With the long spikey tusks.
I will catch you all soon like this dreadful cough I can't get rid of.
xoxoxo
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Yes, Mum
I was sitting on the bus the other day on the way to uni, when two Giggling Gurties got on. Apparently, they knew they had to get on the bus, they just didn't know where to get off. Or how to make the bus stop when they realised their stop was 2 kilometres ago. The bus was pretty full, so the poor lost souls had to sit in the seats that go backwards instead of facing forwards. Turns out this was not appropriate. Here are some snippets from their conversation:
"I hate sitting backwards!! OMG, I'm so hung over right now. I feel sick. This going backwards thing isn't healthy for a person"
(the bus rounds a corner)
"OMG, and now it's like...we're going SIDEWAYS!!!"
(pleased to see the alchohol didn't affect your brain then... :/)
"Oh no, I really don't like this..."
(a Kind Old Gentleman asks if they okay)
"yeah, it's just we're bus newbies!! this is why I have a CAR"
(The Kind Old Gentlemen explains to them gently and kindly the benefits of a bus, ie. you don't have to drive, pay for petrol and parking etc.)
"oh.... we really shouldn't have decided to do this when we were drunk"
(Yeah. Good call.)
I just thought I'd share that with you, cos funny things happen to me sometimes, and I wish you were there, then we could have laughed.They were just soooo helpless and pathetic but in a let's-all-point-and-laugh way rather than a-oh-you-poor-thing-let-me-help-you way. So I was laughing to myself.The Kind Old Gentleman was helping them and I have to say his patience was that of bear in winter, waiting for the bright rays of sunlight to melt through the thick layer of white fluffy stuff. So, good on him! All praise to Kind Old Gentlmen!! But the good thing about enjoying these two girls' tattlings was that I realised: I am no longer a Wellington Newbie.
And that makes me go like this: :D :D :D :D :D
In other news, it's exams soon. But I'm trying not to panic. Damn!! By saying panic that makes me think about panicking which makes Fear rise in my Chest!! DOWN boy. The good thing about exams and having to study for aforementioned exams NOW is that it is Winter, which means I'm not lured outside by the gentle breeze and friendly warmth, rather I run far as I can from a howling gale and the bitchin'freeze. The down side to this is that In Bed is the warmest place to be; I have nothing against lying in bed all day on a freezing rainy day, surrounded by books, but the thing is it lures you into a kind of dreamy hazy lazyness that can only be compared to when it's midafternoon in the summer holidays and you've just had lunch, feeling pleasantly full, and you just wanna find somewhere cosy and snore for a few hours, until 4 or 5 when it's cooled off a bit and you can go frolicking through the fields. Hands up who loves frolicking in fields!! ME PICK ME!! So you see, in everything there is a kind of irony. HOWEVER. In this particular case, I have established ways to overcome this. If you are much like me and can associate with what I am saying, then listen up, fool.
1) When you wake up in the moring, despite the fact that you fully intend to get back into bed after making a dash for the kitchen/bathroom/computer/textbooks, you should GET DRESSED as though preparing for a day full of activity. Don't be stupid and go and put makeup on or gel up your hair, cos honestly, use your brain and think about who the hell is gunna come pay a visit and care if you look your grandest while under a pile of blankets. Have a shower, if that's what you normally do, and if it isn't, then have one anyway. Showers, I have found through painstaking research, are Wet. Which a) wakes you up and refreshes you and b) requires a drying session afterwards, which constitutes activity. And we all know that physical activity is awesome when you're feeling groggy or slightly zombieish (and I'm the Queen of the Morning Zombies, so I should know) trust me, once the blood is flowing, you'll feel a lot better (a bit of morning hanky-panky with your loved one is good for this too). However, if you are like me and find that warm/hot showers make you feel sleepy, then don't panic. If that's the way it is then don't go straight back to bed, go and start some kind of morning acrtivity, which brings me onto....
2)Keep to your morning routine!! Don't think "I'm at home, I'm going back to bed, I can have breakfast in bed!!" cos this will only lure you into a state of relaxation, which leads to the deadly sin of Sloth. Or, as it is in the Student religion, Procrastination. DON'T DO IT. Have breakfast in the kitchen, with some coffee or tea or some kind of liquid, because you haven't drunk anything for many an hour (hopefully 8). And, boys and girls, HAVE BREAKFAST FULL STOP. Despite how much we all hate to admit it, our parents and grandparents do know a thing or two and breakfast IS the most important meal of the day. Whether you serve it up Gary's way or your own, just have at least a nibble. Speaking of food, the girl next to me has a mushroom pasta and it smells DISGUSTING. Even if you don't have breakfast normally and you just run frantically out the door like me on disorganised days (ie. 4 out of 5 days a week) make an effort to do it this time, cos you're at home and have nowhere to be. What the hell is your excuse?? No food?? Okay, fair game, if you have no food then something tnat I enjoy is water. Not COLD water, don't look at me so horrifically. I like a good glass of hot water, especially in the mornings. And kids, I find it actually fills me up!! Of course not as long as food would, but at least there's something in there, right?? Plus you have the added bonus of being warm on the inside and also hydrated. Oh, safety note, DO NOT boil the jug and pour it into a glass. This may cause the glass to crack and being groggy in the morning you may be inclined to drink it, which can lead to a burnt tongue which is no fun at all and not a healthy way to start your day. Just run the hot tap until you can't put your fingers under it anymore, then blow on the surface and take LITTLE sips.
3)If you can and the room temperature allows, sit ON the bed rather than IN it. This means your body won't go into "snuggling into bed" mode. This is another reason why you should get dressed, because if you are wearing clothes instead of jamies or trackies then you are less inlcined to get so comfortable you drift off and lose focus. However, if your house is so fricking cold getting under the covers is the most sensible thing to do (like our house) then the whole "wearing clothes" thing will work even better. Nobody can consciously snuggle down in bed and go sleepies in their jeans unless you are a)me b) too drunk to care or c) sick and/or exhausted. Trust me on the wearing clothes thing, it makes a HUGE difference. It's a mind thing. If you are like me and often just spend the whole day at home in jim-jams or trackpants, you know that it's very easy to slip into Lazy Mode. Proper clothes (nothing drastic, just normal pants and a tshirt) and the action of getting dressed gets your mind into Doing Things Mode. Do try it!!
4) A general, common sense thing at study time is LOOK AFTER YOURSELF and by this I mean try not to get sick!! Dress warm when you're going outside. If you get wet, change into dry things asap. DRINK WATER. Eat plenty of fruit etc- did you know that fruit and veges are the only things that didn't increase in price as far as groceries go this year?? In fact, they went down about 3 percent. It's way cheaper to buy fruit and veges than pies and noodles. Say one pie=$2, at the moment you can get 2 KILOGRAMS of kiwifruit for that, that's a lot of yummy vitamins. Or that's a full head of brocolli if it's on special, with change for some carrots. Seriously boys and girls, if you can afford junky food you can afford fruit and veges, there are ALWAYS some on special, go for those. Having only a few dollars for a meal is no excuse for not eating or just getting a pie or packet or noodles, cos you can get a good meal of veges for that. They are easy to make and tasty. You will love yourself for it. You can even give yourself a hug if you want,which is good for the whole mental and emotional health thing, which is easy to lose in this stressful time. If you get a cold, PLEASE don't waste your money on those Lemsip things,I know they're tasty and have paracetamol, but so does a packet of Panadol (which you can get way cheaper if you just get Pam's paracetamol, Panadol is a BRAND, they are all exactly the same thing- 500mgs of paracetamol!! Be wise!!) Something that is AWESOME for colds and coughs is that good old fashioned lemon honey drink. Some people replace the honey with sugar: this is stupid, because the honey is half the medicine. Lemon honey drinks have: vitamin C mostly which is what you need for ills and chills, other vitamins in small quantities, and the honey is especially good on sore throats. Honey is an antiseptic which helps kill all the germs that are making your throat inflamed (if you have a really sore throat, something that is nice to do is get a teaspoon of honey and suck on it. Don't swallow it, just let it slowly melt down your throat. Bush or Manuka honeys have the most antiseptic properties however all honey is beneficial). The hot water is soothing (see above) and nice to your nose. How to make a tasty lemon and honey drink : squeeze one half of a lemon into a mug. Scoop out a teaspoon of honey and put it in the mug. Boil the jug while you are doing this and when it is bolied, pour hot water over the lemon and honey and fill the mug to the top. Make sure you stir the honey in with the teaspoon!! It melts in the hot water and has a deliciously syrupy effect.
Well now that I've blabbed on forever I should let you go and do everything I've told you to. Do it. Do it NAUGH!!
"I hate sitting backwards!! OMG, I'm so hung over right now. I feel sick. This going backwards thing isn't healthy for a person"
(the bus rounds a corner)
"OMG, and now it's like...we're going SIDEWAYS!!!"
(pleased to see the alchohol didn't affect your brain then... :/)
"Oh no, I really don't like this..."
(a Kind Old Gentleman asks if they okay)
"yeah, it's just we're bus newbies!! this is why I have a CAR"
(The Kind Old Gentlemen explains to them gently and kindly the benefits of a bus, ie. you don't have to drive, pay for petrol and parking etc.)
"oh.... we really shouldn't have decided to do this when we were drunk"
(Yeah. Good call.)
I just thought I'd share that with you, cos funny things happen to me sometimes, and I wish you were there, then we could have laughed.They were just soooo helpless and pathetic but in a let's-all-point-and-laugh way rather than a-oh-you-poor-thing-let-me-help-you way. So I was laughing to myself.The Kind Old Gentleman was helping them and I have to say his patience was that of bear in winter, waiting for the bright rays of sunlight to melt through the thick layer of white fluffy stuff. So, good on him! All praise to Kind Old Gentlmen!! But the good thing about enjoying these two girls' tattlings was that I realised: I am no longer a Wellington Newbie.
And that makes me go like this: :D :D :D :D :D
In other news, it's exams soon. But I'm trying not to panic. Damn!! By saying panic that makes me think about panicking which makes Fear rise in my Chest!! DOWN boy. The good thing about exams and having to study for aforementioned exams NOW is that it is Winter, which means I'm not lured outside by the gentle breeze and friendly warmth, rather I run far as I can from a howling gale and the bitchin'freeze. The down side to this is that In Bed is the warmest place to be; I have nothing against lying in bed all day on a freezing rainy day, surrounded by books, but the thing is it lures you into a kind of dreamy hazy lazyness that can only be compared to when it's midafternoon in the summer holidays and you've just had lunch, feeling pleasantly full, and you just wanna find somewhere cosy and snore for a few hours, until 4 or 5 when it's cooled off a bit and you can go frolicking through the fields. Hands up who loves frolicking in fields!! ME PICK ME!! So you see, in everything there is a kind of irony. HOWEVER. In this particular case, I have established ways to overcome this. If you are much like me and can associate with what I am saying, then listen up, fool.
1) When you wake up in the moring, despite the fact that you fully intend to get back into bed after making a dash for the kitchen/bathroom/computer/textbooks, you should GET DRESSED as though preparing for a day full of activity. Don't be stupid and go and put makeup on or gel up your hair, cos honestly, use your brain and think about who the hell is gunna come pay a visit and care if you look your grandest while under a pile of blankets. Have a shower, if that's what you normally do, and if it isn't, then have one anyway. Showers, I have found through painstaking research, are Wet. Which a) wakes you up and refreshes you and b) requires a drying session afterwards, which constitutes activity. And we all know that physical activity is awesome when you're feeling groggy or slightly zombieish (and I'm the Queen of the Morning Zombies, so I should know) trust me, once the blood is flowing, you'll feel a lot better (a bit of morning hanky-panky with your loved one is good for this too). However, if you are like me and find that warm/hot showers make you feel sleepy, then don't panic. If that's the way it is then don't go straight back to bed, go and start some kind of morning acrtivity, which brings me onto....
2)Keep to your morning routine!! Don't think "I'm at home, I'm going back to bed, I can have breakfast in bed!!" cos this will only lure you into a state of relaxation, which leads to the deadly sin of Sloth. Or, as it is in the Student religion, Procrastination. DON'T DO IT. Have breakfast in the kitchen, with some coffee or tea or some kind of liquid, because you haven't drunk anything for many an hour (hopefully 8). And, boys and girls, HAVE BREAKFAST FULL STOP. Despite how much we all hate to admit it, our parents and grandparents do know a thing or two and breakfast IS the most important meal of the day. Whether you serve it up Gary's way or your own, just have at least a nibble. Speaking of food, the girl next to me has a mushroom pasta and it smells DISGUSTING. Even if you don't have breakfast normally and you just run frantically out the door like me on disorganised days (ie. 4 out of 5 days a week) make an effort to do it this time, cos you're at home and have nowhere to be. What the hell is your excuse?? No food?? Okay, fair game, if you have no food then something tnat I enjoy is water. Not COLD water, don't look at me so horrifically. I like a good glass of hot water, especially in the mornings. And kids, I find it actually fills me up!! Of course not as long as food would, but at least there's something in there, right?? Plus you have the added bonus of being warm on the inside and also hydrated. Oh, safety note, DO NOT boil the jug and pour it into a glass. This may cause the glass to crack and being groggy in the morning you may be inclined to drink it, which can lead to a burnt tongue which is no fun at all and not a healthy way to start your day. Just run the hot tap until you can't put your fingers under it anymore, then blow on the surface and take LITTLE sips.
3)If you can and the room temperature allows, sit ON the bed rather than IN it. This means your body won't go into "snuggling into bed" mode. This is another reason why you should get dressed, because if you are wearing clothes instead of jamies or trackies then you are less inlcined to get so comfortable you drift off and lose focus. However, if your house is so fricking cold getting under the covers is the most sensible thing to do (like our house) then the whole "wearing clothes" thing will work even better. Nobody can consciously snuggle down in bed and go sleepies in their jeans unless you are a)me b) too drunk to care or c) sick and/or exhausted. Trust me on the wearing clothes thing, it makes a HUGE difference. It's a mind thing. If you are like me and often just spend the whole day at home in jim-jams or trackpants, you know that it's very easy to slip into Lazy Mode. Proper clothes (nothing drastic, just normal pants and a tshirt) and the action of getting dressed gets your mind into Doing Things Mode. Do try it!!
4) A general, common sense thing at study time is LOOK AFTER YOURSELF and by this I mean try not to get sick!! Dress warm when you're going outside. If you get wet, change into dry things asap. DRINK WATER. Eat plenty of fruit etc- did you know that fruit and veges are the only things that didn't increase in price as far as groceries go this year?? In fact, they went down about 3 percent. It's way cheaper to buy fruit and veges than pies and noodles. Say one pie=$2, at the moment you can get 2 KILOGRAMS of kiwifruit for that, that's a lot of yummy vitamins. Or that's a full head of brocolli if it's on special, with change for some carrots. Seriously boys and girls, if you can afford junky food you can afford fruit and veges, there are ALWAYS some on special, go for those. Having only a few dollars for a meal is no excuse for not eating or just getting a pie or packet or noodles, cos you can get a good meal of veges for that. They are easy to make and tasty. You will love yourself for it. You can even give yourself a hug if you want,which is good for the whole mental and emotional health thing, which is easy to lose in this stressful time. If you get a cold, PLEASE don't waste your money on those Lemsip things,I know they're tasty and have paracetamol, but so does a packet of Panadol (which you can get way cheaper if you just get Pam's paracetamol, Panadol is a BRAND, they are all exactly the same thing- 500mgs of paracetamol!! Be wise!!) Something that is AWESOME for colds and coughs is that good old fashioned lemon honey drink. Some people replace the honey with sugar: this is stupid, because the honey is half the medicine. Lemon honey drinks have: vitamin C mostly which is what you need for ills and chills, other vitamins in small quantities, and the honey is especially good on sore throats. Honey is an antiseptic which helps kill all the germs that are making your throat inflamed (if you have a really sore throat, something that is nice to do is get a teaspoon of honey and suck on it. Don't swallow it, just let it slowly melt down your throat. Bush or Manuka honeys have the most antiseptic properties however all honey is beneficial). The hot water is soothing (see above) and nice to your nose. How to make a tasty lemon and honey drink : squeeze one half of a lemon into a mug. Scoop out a teaspoon of honey and put it in the mug. Boil the jug while you are doing this and when it is bolied, pour hot water over the lemon and honey and fill the mug to the top. Make sure you stir the honey in with the teaspoon!! It melts in the hot water and has a deliciously syrupy effect.
Well now that I've blabbed on forever I should let you go and do everything I've told you to. Do it. Do it NAUGH!!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
A Lament
Why do all Cup-A-Soups taste the same??
Why does this bruise, when I poke it, cause me pain??
I wanna know!! Have you ever seen the rain??
Oh Romeo, Romeo- What's in a name??
I find it sad. Subject, verb, object.
I've found lots of things sad recently- the drunk obese Maori woman at the bus stop with a dog collar round her neck and a giant safety pin through her ear, a friend of mine at Uni who hates Wellington purely because he hasn't seen the beauty of it yet, the fact that my dog is getting very old and I hardly get to see her anymore.
However, the sighs I sigh for these things are made with breath, and that is one thing I do not lament. I have breath in my body and blood in my veins. The Maori woman will sober up (hopefully...), Christie will get used to the city when I take him round to see things, and I will see Sally very soon when I go back up and I will cuddle and play with her.
Yay!! Back home soon, and I will be able to see many of you!! After planes taking off over our heads and rubbish trucks and car fumes, I can't WAIT to see green hills and hear the birds and smell the trees in the bush. I love it here but I think really there IS no place like home, so tap your heels twice Dorothy then you and Toto can be on your way. In my case, I will check in at the airport once then myself and Christian will be on our way.
It's very exciting.
LOOK OUT KAIPARA SLASH WARKWORTH, WE ARE COMING BACK!!
PS. Screw Cup-A-Soup, I'm making my own and it's FULL OF DELICIOUSNESS. Even my mum said so.
I miss this view...
Oh ye hazy hills!!
Look, it's trees and hills AND Sally!!! (she's in front of the flax bush)
Why does this bruise, when I poke it, cause me pain??
I wanna know!! Have you ever seen the rain??
Oh Romeo, Romeo- What's in a name??
I find it sad. Subject, verb, object.
I've found lots of things sad recently- the drunk obese Maori woman at the bus stop with a dog collar round her neck and a giant safety pin through her ear, a friend of mine at Uni who hates Wellington purely because he hasn't seen the beauty of it yet, the fact that my dog is getting very old and I hardly get to see her anymore.
However, the sighs I sigh for these things are made with breath, and that is one thing I do not lament. I have breath in my body and blood in my veins. The Maori woman will sober up (hopefully...), Christie will get used to the city when I take him round to see things, and I will see Sally very soon when I go back up and I will cuddle and play with her.
Yay!! Back home soon, and I will be able to see many of you!! After planes taking off over our heads and rubbish trucks and car fumes, I can't WAIT to see green hills and hear the birds and smell the trees in the bush. I love it here but I think really there IS no place like home, so tap your heels twice Dorothy then you and Toto can be on your way. In my case, I will check in at the airport once then myself and Christian will be on our way.
It's very exciting.
LOOK OUT KAIPARA SLASH WARKWORTH, WE ARE COMING BACK!!
PS. Screw Cup-A-Soup, I'm making my own and it's FULL OF DELICIOUSNESS. Even my mum said so.
I miss this view...
Oh ye hazy hills!!
Look, it's trees and hills AND Sally!!! (she's in front of the flax bush)
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Dilly-Dally, Shilly-Shally
My English tutor is hilarious.
He's a very... uh... confident man, but he's one of those people that have their opinions and press them on others not to be arrogant or show off, but in the intent of opening their eyes to more possiblities. I guess that's why I like him so much, because he's a lot like Mrs. Hutton. I detest the way he swans around (I'm sorry, that was unfair, he doesn't swan. He strides with an air of confidence. But I still detest it.) and I hate the way his eyes bore into you when you're saying something, just waiting for you to trail off under his intense gaze that says "I'm drinking in everything you say and I'm gunna attack it as soon as soon as you're finished so if I were you I'd stop talking and giving me more ammunition". I hate the way he is so sarcastic but in such a subtle way that only the perceptive people in the tute pick up on it, and the others just think they really ARE right. I hate how talented and skilled he is and how much he knows.
But because of all this, I find him irresistably compelling, he has a sort of invisible pull that overwhelms my best senses and makes me express my opinions and say stuff out loud without thinking of the consequences. Oh Buddha. Like Mrs Hutton, it's the kind of deal that if you say something, you will either be shot down and squashed or lifted up to high heaven. Kinda like the risk of jumping across a ravine full of carnivorous giant spiders to get to a magical land of chocolate- the outcome depends on the strength of the jump. In all seriousness, I get the jitters just waiting for the tute to begin because I just CANNOT stay quiet (me!!) and listen to other people rabbit on.
Wow, and I have COMPLETELY gone off why I introduced Hamish in the first place. It was because the other day... wait for it... he called Romeo an emo. And I have not gotten over it. It is just SO FUNNY when you think about it because he IS an emo. If anyone wants details as to why I will gladly share.
Ah Shakespeare, your foresight knows no bounds.
<----Boundless
<---- His life is like a dark abyss, stabby rip stab stabDisclaimer: I mock Romeo here, and also in particlar Romeo from Baz Luhrmann's Romeo and Juliet, however I would just like to say I ADORE both of them (especially the movie...sigh), and without Romeo's emosity the play would not be a quarter of what it actually is. The passion that drives Romeo is the passion that drives the play. Otay??
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Looks Like We're In For Nasty Weather
Okay. One word.
COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD. (read: freezing)
I'm not complaining about the weather, no no no, merely commenting on it, and that is what's happening at the moment.
Yesterday I had a visit from one of my Aunties, she's a well-to-do Aucklander with property on Waiheke Island and in Matakana. She's so funny though, she's very classy and upmarket but comes out with the funniest things. And she can also be counted on to bring a nice bottle of Rose to lunch, some hot ham and Gruyere cheese (which she left here- yuuuuum). It was awesome cos she is the first family member to have seen our house, not even mum has seen it all set up properly, however she will soon.
Because it is getting all Autumny the trees are looking like risque dancers, not many clothes on and the rest are flesh coloured (ie. the leaves are turning brown). Soon I will venture out into this land of joy and joyness, and climb the Hill of Prosperity (Mount Vic) and wrestle with the Winds of Seduction and Despair (the numbing Southerlies that come from the South Island who whisper enticingly in your ear "screw exercise, go home!! Go home to warmth!!"), they try to push me down but oh no, not this time sister. Nothing comes between me and Burning Excess Energy (except for maybe more energy in the form of a hot cup of something). And then..... I WILL do some Uni work. There's an update on that, by the way. I am becoming more and more gooder at actually knuckling down and doing it (mainly cos I look like a doofus in the tutes not knowing anything) however in the process I seem to have lost my sense of grammar, as I have started to say things like "gooder" and such like.
Well, I better go now while I'm on a high note. And now, to steal Christian's iPod, pull on some thermals, tie some laces and work those thighs. DAMN good intentions!!
<----This is me warming up, they say Wellington ages you but I don't believe them, look at my great figure.
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