Quests for Clothes

Today I was all enthused, when I got up (not about getting up, though, because that would be Deeply Unhealthy. Getting out of bed in the morning is one of life's Trials, in my opinion. I'm highly suspicious of those who claim to be "morning people". They're clearly up to something. "Getting the most out of the day" indeed. What about getting sleep out of the day? Besides, there will, almost by definition, be other days. Juice those.) ...because I had a Plan. Not, you understand, an "I've got a Plan" in hte whiney sense like that James Blunt chap, which consists of whinging about how pretty my ex is in the hope that she'll leave the guy she was with on the subway, or whatever it is he's going on about, but a real, honest-to-goodness plan. With steps and a Procedure and everything.

You see, next Friday, I'm going to a 1920s themed 21st, (as well as another, on the same night, but this complication is irrelevant to Our Story). The problem with which is that your average 1920s fashion plate is all about the 12-year-old-boy-ish figure, which, I think I can safely say, does not describe me unless you have those very modern types of 12 year old boys that they keep talking about on Today Tonight ads (and, presumably, Today Tonight itself, but I'm Principled enough to not ever ever ever watch it, so I couldn't swear to it.) So the day before yesterday I hit on the rather nifty plan of sewing rows and rows of stiching on a simple shift dress to make a flapper dress. The bugger of this, it turns out, is that shift dresses cannot cheaply be bought for love nor money (although obviously, expending vast quantities of money in order to get a cheap dress would be pointless. Much better to just go ahead and buy the slightly more expensive one, and ignore all that bribing of the shop-assistants rigmarole. But there wasn't a slightly more expensivve one eaith, sadly, so that was a washout). Further, fringe costs 8 or 9 dollars per metre, which doesn't seem like much until you realise that to completely cover a dress in fringe would cost closer to $100 than $50. And I don't want to go to a costume shop, because I always feel that that's just cheating.

On the other hand, the Terrible Draught of clothes that are Actually Red lifted momentarily, and I bought a red top. Which is nice. But still, the Hunt For Red is currently set to continue until next October. (heh.... geddit? No? Well. The Fletcher brothers will have. Hey guys)

Also, Katie-with-a-K,-the-one-who's-my-sister, who was ridiculously not at school again today bought muppets pyjamas, which are naturally the coolest thing since Iced Bread. (geddit again)

Anyway, It's now the 29th of November, which means its' (a) damn near Christmas, so a red top will be particularly useful, and Christmas earrings are now the go, and (b) 2 days until summer. If someone wouldn't mind reminding the lead singer of Matchbox 20, who might even now do well by putting all this rain back into it's boxes with little yellow tags on every one, therefore, it might be a good idea. (Holy third obscure pun in a row, Batman!)

Anyway, on what day of the year was Ned Kelly shot? Bonus half star for knowing what else happened in Australian history on one of the shooting's anniversaries.

Monorail Expedition! (Now Illustrated!)

Last Thursday Catie and I went on our great Monorail Expedition. We went around Sydney pretending to be tourists, talking occassionally in Terrible Accents, and generally enjoying ourselves.


First we caught the tram to Darling Harbour, which is (tragically, but excitingly) further than I've ever caught the tram before. I always enjoy the lightrail in a markedly 6-year-old sort of way. Then we bought day-passes for the monorail, so as to be able to do otherwise financially untenable things like what we did next: caught the monorail the one stop to the other side of Darling Harbour, where we got off and wandered for a while, and took photos of the Christmas tree, and us in the fountain thingy.



Then we caught the monorail from Darling harbour, where we began the official photo competition (niftiest/most artistic photo at any given site wins)

to World Square, which was an enormous hole in the ground when I last caught to monorail.


The competition continued, with photos of the sculpture there, and of the christmas decorations.

Also, we both tried on dresses, mainly because the one I tried was red, and currently my shopping life revolves around the quest for nice clothes that are Actually Red.

Heaps of stuff is coral, or magenta, or pink, and even orangey red, the problem with which is that I look awful and sallow in orangey reds. So yes, currently questing for bright red clothes. Then we wandered down some niftily dcorated arcades,

and took notes on our progress (what d'you mean "tragically nerdy"?).

Then we went to the Galleries Victoria
and competed about photos taken from a little bridgey thing,


and went to Kinokuniya (where we found out decisively that it will be completely impossible to order in the Studio Ghibli box set from any shop in Australia because it hasn't been rated (although surely it's clearly a strong PG at worst. Maybe slightly more for "supernatural themes" or, like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, woud yu believe, "quirky situations"). At Catie's insistance, we went to the bathroom in the Arthouse Hotel, because she'd heard from Bec that they were outstandingly tzujy bathrooms, as indeed they were.

Then (and theeenn...) we went to Darling Park and the Aquarium in order to have icecream (an important part of any tourist day)




and watched the people in formal clothes promenading. This became an exciting game: taking photos of the formalgoers without them spotting us. Hehehe... so much dodgy fun... and lots of pretty/not pretty dresses too.



We considered getting a token cocktail, since it was now 6 ish,


and we were, according to the monorail voiceover guy, in "one of Sydney's hottest nightspots", but decided not to on account of (a) being nearly broke, and (b) thanks to the good people at the RTA, if I have 1 drink, then want to drink hours later, I can't. This being the case, we went twice around the full monorail circut, going "oooh" at the chinese gardens and so on (and having a private carriage all to ourselves by the last circuit).


Then we Trammed home, and went out to Quest for Scrubs season 2 part 2, and had burritos and Scrubs for dinner. Mmmm.... starchy.


A 4.5 star day, all in all. That elusive last 0.5 star would only have been attainable if the camera hadn't run out of batteries.

Today's trivia question: What is the name of JD and Turk's dog?

New Post! Also: EXTRA! Ang's appellatory imagination hits all-time low!

Yay for everything!
Today's featured articles are8 things you didn't know about ROTK http://www.pointlesswasteoftime.com/film/returnoftheking.html
and The Suicide Guide http://www.pointlesswasteoftime.com/suicide.html

Today's trivia question is this: what are the colours of the flags of Germany, France, Italy and Ireland, respectively?

World Cup! Yay!

We qualified for the world cup! How unusual (no really, it really is, it's been, what, 32 years?) for us! Yay for everything! But not the creme brulees that were a bit of a disaster today. But kind of yay for the orange cake-thingy we also made, because it has meringue icing, and the creme brulees used two separate yolks, so you have to make something meringuey to use the whites up. The cake completely (completely) disintegrated when we took it out of the tin, but we glued it back together with meringue, so, y'know, that's a yay on balance!

And it's nearly Christmas time! And I'm going to have High Tea tomorrow! And.... and... yay all round!

Trivia: What fruit flavour of beer is available at the Lowenbrau Keller?

Yay for the holidays! And by extension Christmas!

The exams are over! Yay! *dances* This is weird, actually, I have that strange aimless feeling of directionless guilt I always have after the exams end. Y'know, I've been feeling guilty about doing stuff for so long that I now have nothing I should be doing, I now feel guilty pretty much all the time. Meh. It usually passes within the week. And today I slept in! For the first time in aaaaggges. And, and, I'm currently reading a book! A Book! I haven't read a book in about a month.

And as soon as I get motivated (tomorrow?) I shall make Creme Brulees! Yay!I've been meaning to do that so long that the ingredient cream I bought went off.

Anyway, this afternoon I went to my old school because my sister Alex won a maths prize. It's always odd to go back there. It's strangely the same but also weirdly different. Also, they had a guest speaker who was a maths lecturer for UNSW, who gave us a maths lecture! With powerpoint slides! The first day of my summer holidays and someone gave me a lecture! Waaahh! Anyway, moving on...

This evening Catie and I bought groceries, it was terribly fun. We got all kinds of groceries, including the really fun kind like toffee apples, and a BBQ chicken and had a picnic on our living room floor! Yay picnic! Also, and even more excitingly, I got pjs for $8. Best purchase everrrr. They have a sheep on them and say "Shleepy time" on them. They remind me of a pair of pyjamas I had when I was (very) little which had Cows on them and said "Too tired to Moooove", and I thought they were great. Anyway, the pyjamas are nifty, is more or less my point here.

And then, we Quested(tm) for Scrubs Season 2 on DVD. It was a successful quest indeed, it only took us 3 video shops to find what we were after, so, y'know, yay again!

This post is sort of dull, but really it's just a vehicle for today's question, so that's ok. The question in question is this: Tell me all 50 states of America... no wait, that'll be really boring to check. How's this: what does "Tutto è giusto nell'amore e nella guerra" mean?

Whoa.

That was wierd.

trivia question, apocalyptic theme: who are the four horsemen of the apocalpse? And for a bonus star, who are are the four other horsemen of the apocalypse.

HELP!

where has my blog gone???

And why does the comments link go to my email resignin? And why have I 2 title boxes?

Latin exam study = vital but dull

So here is a point form blog post with vital parts underlined, for ease of skim reading, in manner of exam notes:

*We went to Birkenhead Point for no reason and found an excellent Lolly shop which had all the great stuff from the terrigal lolly shop, thus greatly reducing our travel time next time we crave peach hearts.

*We did the washing up, and I broke/cut-my-hand-on a glass again. This time, though 'tis but a scratch. Last time it was a flesh wound.

*After which, Catie stabbed me lightly with a steak knife.

*I joined the much touted "board" (as it will henceforth be known) of John, Alicia's friend, and also known as the Gargoyles Guy. Also, my new avatar is a fishy. Yay Fishy!

*I have 2 exams tomorrow. You probably know this but far be it from me to fail to complain.

*I got all excited when I realised that if you take the "e" out of exams, you get "xmas" which seemed a good sign to me, until Catie pointed out it was a typo.

*Also, does my blog look weirdly formatted to you guys, or is it just my computer? How odd.

*Also we quested to the corner shop for Coke and WD40 for our dodgy lock, and also got a mango and a banana! Yay! And then we adventured past a fairy party and excitingly put WD40 in the lock (I was going to put "lubricated the lock" but despite being strictly accurate, I feel that would render us vulnerable to innuendo). All in all, it was a terribly exciting and adventurous half hour. (see, I told you exams were good for you) I liked the one where we were dentists.

*Trivia star question:How many books are there in the Hitchiker Trilogy? And what are their names?

Exams are on...

And here's my apalling confession: I quite like exams, actually.

Sad, isn't it?

It's just that, well, it's always the beginning of the holidays, you don't have to go to class, it's self-regulated, but with absolute deadlines. Exams are sort of like 'Xtreme Class Quiz: To the Max!' aren't they? Pressure, can-you-do-it-in-time-?-ness, multiple choice or else essays which there are usually a choice in, sometimes you go in, and are stressed, and you look at the questions, and you're like "Oh, I know that" and it's just great. ('Course sometimes you have no idea, and that pretty much sucks, but meh, exams aren't meant to be fun, it's not like you're losing potential fun or anything. Just your future.)

Plus, in stuvac, everything becomes more fun. There's the excitment of forbidden pleasure in grocery shopping. You feel daring, and as if you're on a major outing, if you so much as go to the corner shop for a litre of milk. And don't even get me started on the baking. Ohhh, the baking that gets done. The hours of flicking through the iPod on Shuffle, racing to figure out title and artist first, extra points if singing hasn't begun yet. (Plus, y'know, I always beat Catie, and I love that).

Yesterday, fun was had by all when Catie spend 45 minutes trying to open my skylight (while I editted her absolutely fascinating 7000 word essay on towns in early britain) with the specially designed to be impossible hook on a long pole thing. Which she then accidentally broke my light shade with.

So I got to have a fun evening trip to Broadway to by new light shades for both of us, as well as 2 singlet tops (2 for $15 from JayJays! Checkit, people, cheap clothes For The Win). And now I have a new light shade! It's a little odd, because the light in my room is all different,but it's also just Nifty. Also, at $9.95, if I get sick of it within a week, then that's still value for money. It was a surprising amount of fun, and I spent the obligatory 3 minutes watching the little Santa on a bicycle that goes back and forth along a string, which was also great.

(No, seriously)

The only dark cloud on all this loveliness is that in my exam yesterday at first I was incredibly, cripplingly tired, which I then overcame, but then I was overcome with a wierd wave of claustrophobia and can't-sit-still-in-this-room-any-longer,-I-feel-like-I'm-suffocating-ness, which was odd, but also new and different for me.

It was kinda funny,actually, because there I was in my Abnormal Pysch exam going "Ohmigosh (well, not really, I just love writing that like that), am I having a panic attack? Oh no!"and then the rest of me went "Wait a minute, you have none of the symptoms of panic attacks whatsoever, take it from someone who was studying this just yesterday for this very exam. You idiot" and then mentally slapped the stressed bit of me upside the head. I still had that restless feeling in the backs of my knees, but sometimes you just have to deal with these things.

It's also amusing that people with Panic disorder and Agoraphobia go to lengths to avoid Panic Attacks, and have all these fun and zany safety behaviours like "don't catch the bus, I had an attack there once" and "tap all mailboxes" and so on [not unlike OCD, which is related, but which amusingly, my lecture notes had this to say about "Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: obsessions and compulsions are rare in this disorder" (among other stuff, obviously)] and ...where was I? Oh yes... and also fear that they'll have a heart attack/die/go mad. Conversely, that happened to me and I was busy fearing lest I develop agoraphobia or Panic Disorder or something.

Actually, I was in HMV this afternoon (I had a legitimate excuse to be there in stuvac, honest!) (See, it does make going out more fun)and they had this music DVD on which made me feel sort of like in that exam again, I had the urge to flee the shop. Weird. Particularly for me, anyone will tell you that the only thing that usually gives me the urge to flee a shop is another, more alluring, shop. (or the song "My Hump" by the BlackEyed Peas coming on. Ugh, worst song ever. But everyone always flees that song, surely. Everyone I've heard it in the company of, certainly). So anyway, I stayed in the shop and finished what I was doing, because you can't flee "bad vibes", or they multiply and before you know it, are everywhere.

This worries me a little, because the last time I had that awful feeling of absolutely being completely unable to be where I was a second longer was when I went on the Gravitron at Luna Park. Which was pretty exciting too, I've never asked anyone to stop a ride before. It was just so undealwithably awful. Anyway, that was months ago, and then I had a slightly milder equivalent in my exam (which I stuck out, but which I did not, perhaps, check as thouroughly as I usually would before I left), and then again today, which is the day after, although less strongly again. So that seems sort of intensifying in frequency.

But, on reflectiion, I'm pretty sure that this is all bollocks, so that's ok.

Anyway, I'd best get back to work...

Today's star goes to the first person to list me ...let's say 10 (I'll make it less if no-one can, so keep checking for number reduction)... songs with numbers in their titles. Bonus point if you have 10 sequential numbers.

Have a nice weekend everyone, and good luck to those of us who still have exams. Friendly death (perhaps mild injury? Ok: a paper cut) wished to everyone already on holidays.

And in case I don't post between now and then, Happy 21st Birthday to Bec for Monday. (Do let her know I said so, Sam dear).

Also, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.

(Aaargh! look how long it's taking me to sign out! Procrastination much? *Drags self sternly off stage right by ear*)

*breaks free, runs back on* WAIT! check this awesome stuff out! Yay LOTR comedy stuff! http://pointlesswasteoftime.com/film/50reasons.html/

Dammit! How do you make URLs nifty so that say "click here"?

Anyway, *truges off to work again*

I should write an actual post, this is getting dull for you ppl, I suspect

But I don't have time, I really should GET BACK TO WORK!

So here are my abridged adventures, with occassional words.

Biology exam..... knew answers.... yay!..... new sunglasses......... purple..... groceries....... Kathryn visited........ walk..... post...... sparklers.... cat named Assassin turns out to be called Sam by it's "actual" owners....... so many sams these days...... sleep..... cinnamon toast..... webcomics....... study...... boredom...... study........ sausages......... study........ weaken and write blog post.... sort of.

Anyway, what's the artist and title of this song bit?: "I walk down the street in the mornng, and the blebirds are singing in the old oak tree [kookaburra noises], yeah I sing a little song for the people, little song for me (tralalalalala)."

I have to stop this... [edit]

If only because it's unfair to post so many times in 1 day. But this is the last for a little while, honest! Also, this question is an attempt to foil Catie's attempt to snatch the lead ridiculously early in game.

This post comprises 2 separate trivia questions, worth 1 star each.

(1) According to the song sung by Nat King Cole, who is it who says that a falling blossom only touches lips that lie?

(2) Name one Australian hardwood of dark colour, apart from Cedar.

(Gaah! this take home is soooo dull, and it's taking so long, and I have so much work to do. And because my essay has to be typed, I can't turn my computer off, so I keep wasting my time like this. Also, Catie's trying to edit her 7000 word essay here too, so the silence/music is punctured with cries of "I hate you! Die! Die!.... Not you, you understand. My essay." And similar. I cannot but concur with these sentiments.)

(edit:) Yay! finished 1st draft of take-home at last! And only 24 hours behind schedule! *kills self*

But here are some fun quotes from this evening. May they brighten your day and they have ours, and so on.

Catie :I kill you for leaving out the verb there.
Catie: I fear for my life.
Catie: *maniacal laughter out of nowhere* it doesn’t make any sense, it’s not fair!
Ang: I like Matchbox 20, they’re my friends.
Catie: The word “clean” looked really wrong just then. I was like “what? Kle-ahn?”.
Ang: You were stabbing me in the eye! There’s a different atmosphere there!

You can tell I have a takehome due soon, can't you?

But what of it? Eh?

For this question, Catie is forbidden to use my iTunes, which, for the purposes of this question only (and it's a tough one) would count as cheating.

Name four (4) artists/singers with songs called "Better Man" (or A Better Man, or so on).

Yay! Isn't this fun?

Who is it, in which movie, whom no-one persecutes harmless crackpots like?

As in "No-one persecutes harmless crackpots like.............."

(edit: Hey, someone just asked me if I had an Irish accent! Cool!)

And so... In a move blatantly plagiarised from SpunInJam...

I now give you... Inadvertent Trivia! Each post comes witha trivia question of some kind, first correct answer gets, say.... 1 star. First to 15 stars gets some kind of present, depending on who they are/ how I feel at the time (so, "if you're allergic to apples, not a toffee apple", not "so if I don't like you, you get a small rock"). Any reader of my blog is eligible. But any answer is understood to be sworn on the poster's honour to have been unaided by search engines of any kind. So, if it's a movie quote, or "3 Al Pacino movies" or something, then IMDB counts as cheating. We have no way of catching you if you cheat, but if we do, we confiscate one of your limbs for each occassion.

First question, then is this:
In which movie is the question "For the last time, we did not order a giant trampoline!" Replied to with "You know what, pal, you could have told me that before I set it up."?

Yay for commentwh0ring!

Ain't life grand?

Well? Ain't it?

Well, I think it is, so there.

I copy and paste an old but funny article for new kicks.

The article being (a) old, and (b) borrowed from satirewire.com, these kicks are therfore hereby declared (c) new and (d) blue. Mmmm...blue....


ANGERED BY SNUBBING, LIBYA, CHINA, SYRIA FORM AXIS OF JUST AS EVIL

Cuba, Sudan, Serbia Form Axis of Somewhat Evil; Other Nations Start Own Clubs
Beijing (SatireWire.com) — Bitter after being snubbed for membership in the "Axis of Evil," Libya, China, and Syria today announced they had formed the "Axis of Just as Evil," which they said would be way eviler than that stupid Iran-Iraq-North Korea axis President Bush warned of his State of the Union address.

Axis of Evil members, however, immediately dismissed the new axis as having, for starters, a really dumb name. "Right. They are Just as Evil... in their dreams!" declared North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. "Everybody knows we're the best evils... best at being evil... we're the best."

Diplomats from Syria denied they were jealous over being excluded, although they conceded they did ask if they could join the Axis of Evil.
"They told us it was full," said Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.
"An Axis can't have more than three countries," explained Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. "This is not my rule, it's tradition. In World War II you had Germany, Italy, and Japan in the evil Axis. So you can only have three. And a secret handshake. Ours is wicked cool."

THE AXIS PANDEMIC

International reaction to Bush's Axis of Evil declaration was swift, as within minutes, France surrendered.

Elsewhere, peer-conscious nations rushed to gain triumvirate status in what became a game of geopolitical chairs. Cuba, Sudan, and Serbia said they had formed the Axis of Somewhat Evil, forcing Somalia to join with Uganda and Myanmar in the Axis of Occasionally Evil, while Bulgaria, Indonesia and Russia established the Axis of Not So Much Evil Really As Just Generally Disagreeable.
With the criteria suddenly expanded and all the desirable clubs filling up, Sierra Leone, El Salvador, and Rwanda applied to be called the Axis of Countries That Aren't the Worst But Certainly Won't Be Asked to Host the Olympics; Canada, Mexico, and Australia formed the Axis of Nations That Are Actually Quite Nice But Secretly Have Nasty Thoughts About America, while Spain, Scotland, and New Zealand established the Axis of Countries That Sometimes Ask Sheep to Wear Lipstick.
"That's not a threat, really, just something we like to do," said Scottish Executive First Minister Jack McConnell.

While wondering if the other nations of the world weren't perhaps making fun of him, a cautious Bush granted approval for most axes, although he rejected the establishment of the Axis of Countries Whose Names End in "Guay," accusing one of its members of filing a false application. Officials from Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chadguay denied the charges.

Israel, meanwhile, insisted it didn't want to join any Axis, but privately, world leaders said that's only because no one asked them.
Copyright © 2002, SatireWire.

Stupid PDF. Death to it.

My notes which I really need for Biology won't print. Dagnammit. This makes me tired and grumpy. That is all.

Star Fade!

Ok, we're watching At The Movies with Margaret and David, and someone just mentioned star fades. And so, I just thought, how cool would it be if be could have those in real life? Like "well, we'd better get to uni" *starfade* and then there we are! At uni! With our hair being blown backby invisible fans!

Or "Oh no! What will we do?!" *starfadeout!*

Or perhaps "Ahahaha! I am so evil! They will never escape my plot.For I will rule evilly indeed! *glares evily at camera*" And then the world fades to black except for the eyes which glare until the last moment. And so on!

I'm all excited about this, even though I'm just guessing that it might, perhaps, possibly not eventuate.

Also, currently on the screen is a blue beach umbrella with a white fringe. How cool. I want one of those! How Grandma!

I seem to be excitable today. This is doubtless a good thing. Also, the font in the typing page is back to being the right size.

Anyway, I was talking today about someone who was afraid of butterflies. The interesting thing was that I was talking to Tim, who's afraid of dogs, including adorable postcard-like puppies.

So which, empirically, is scarier? Tim maintains that puppies have teeth and are not unlikely to run up your chest and use those teeth to bite your ear fair off. But on the other hand, butterflies do have a proboscis. Yeugh. Creepy . (A proboscis each, obviously, not like the butterflies are all ganging up to attack us with a giant proboscis the size of someone's leg, all straining to carry it around and suck things with, like small children, and the entire contents of frozen coke machines.)(Actually, how cool would that be? You could get one hell of a brainfreeze, though.)

Anyway, a proboscis is arguably a creepier thing to have than adorable little teeth. Also, for all that a puppy might run up you and eat bits off you in manner of a particularly choosy dinner in a buffet restaurant, a butterfly can fly. It could probably fly directly into your ear and sup upon your meninges or something. Although in fairness, they might have difficulty flying into an ear, wingspan is liable to be a problem. But moths can fold their wings, so I'm sure that if butterflies put their mind to it, they could achieve whatever measly ole moths can. In other news, I'm not great with these medical things, but it's just distantly possible that the meninges do not back directly on to the ear. But then, that's exactly where your basic proboscis comes in handy. See? Freakier.

Also, a butterfly is an ex-caterpillar which has seen the error of its ways, and broken out of a shell constructed of its own bodily excretion. Conversely, even the scariest dog was once a little puppy. But then again, lets not even think about where that came from.

Maybe I ought to stop overthinking this. Thought like this taken too far (not that I'm doing that, you understand) could lead to me being completely housebound within the hour. But then, I wasn't really planning on going out this evening, so that's more or less fine.

Anyway, I think it's time to... *dramatic pause*.... go to bed. So good night everyone. *starfade*

Oh, P.S. It occurs to me that butterflies may not, in fact, have a proboscis as such, but then, they doubtless have something like that. So that’s ok.

Third time lucky

Dammit, I had most of a post written, and the computer deleted almost all of it. Gaaahh! (Twice!)

I actually have nothing particularly interesting to write, but you'll note that the most recent comment on the last post contains implicit death threats, so I figured that for the sake of my health, I'd best make with the typing.

(Weird, the blogger program is showing this text as bigger than usual. Also weird, I always seem to misspell 'weird' as 'wierd' when I'm not concentrating. I suppose, though, that this is not not evidence of Wierdness so much as of Poor Education.)

Also, have decided to try reinstating the Emphatic Capitalisation, of which I am rather Fond (is the capital F too much?).

Now a Guilty Admission: Oprah is on in the room in which I am now sitting, and I'm still here. This sycophantic crowd is bugging me a bit, but Orlando Bloom is on, and he has the ponytail and little moustache and beard thing, not the girl hair has sometimes has and he's just so.... pretty. hehehe.... *fangirls*

This is alook I'm especially fond of, although not always, but I do think that it works well with the right bone structure. (cf. Tim).

Oh good grief, this show is just like a ritualistic exhange of compliments: “you’re really great [overfamiliar name of guest]” “oh no, you’re really great Oprah!” “No, you!” ad so on. And the crowd goes nuts each time, too. Also,she says “I love that about you” a lot, about various ‘deep’ aspects of the actors, as though she really knows them. Ha.

Catie wants to steal my computer to “edit my post” [read: stop me from blathering, and check her own email, and more importantly to rush ahead of me to Pun’s blogans steal the stars which would otherwise be Rightfullly Mine] But I am Nobly Resisting her Evil Plots.

Today being Saturday, we took Pun to Glebe Markets, which was fun in an uneventful sort of way. (You see I have nothing much to write, but you can’t Defy Catie’s Ploys without typing in these situations, so I shall type on wilfully. Heh.

Also, we went to Pride and Prejudice yesterday evening, which was rather nice. Of course they had to make it rather shorter. A 6 hour miniseries doth not easily a 2 hour movie make. (I should point out that I do realise that it’s originally a book, which I have indeed read a number of times, but really, we know that a book can be made into an ordinary-length movie, and who doesn’t think of the miniseries these days?) Our perceptions of these characters have been shaped by the BBC version. So obviously the New Darcy was under scrutiny (I’d like to capitalise Scrutiny, but I fear that I may get Carried Away as I progress). Whilst he was obviously different from Colin Firth who is, as you might say, the Canon Darcy of this last decade, he was also a bit like a combination of John Cusack and Alan Rickman, which is something of a good thing. (Or a Good Thing, even. V. 1066 and All That)

Anyway, the evening has much improved as I’ve rewritten this whole blasted thing, so now we’re watching Lord of The Rings on TV, having had dinner preceeded by Bruscetta. It really is Very Good Bruscetta. Usually it’s Great Bruscetta, or even Excellent Bruscetta, but we could only get Reasonably Good Tomatoes, which rather let the side down.

Anyway, now we have Mango Sparkling Wine, which I bought from the QVB on Thursday, and is Luvverly.

In other news, I wore my Super Ultra Funky Cool Top Hat to uni last week, which was pretty great. One of the best things about the Sutekhers is that they can be relied upon to think that that sort of thing is really great.

Ooh… Low Battery. I’d best go, but have a nice day/evening/life, Oh Adoring Fans. And Adieu. *blows condescending kisses and Condescending Kisses too*

So tired of waking up tired

It seems that I've been tired so consistently for so long that I now no longer wake up spontaneously at all, but rather continue, Sleeping Beauty-like until something happens to wake me up.

I had a latin test this morning, in my second class, and I first overslept and was late for the first class, and then got completely abyssmal marks in my 15% latin test. Damn. Problem was, I forgot until fairly late last night that I had to study for it, but then more important stuff came up and kept me awake and not studying until 2. So y'know, I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised by this morning. I really should study for tests earlier than the night before, and I definitely need to get into the habit of going to bed earlier on Monday nights. I mean if I have to pull over and sleep for 15 minutes on my way to work every week, that's bad. Drove down the M4 today in an exciting mix of sluggish fatigue and sleepiness and chest-gripping fear for my life when I kept drifting about. You'd think that the afraidness would keep me alert, but no. Or, hmmm... maybe it did and I would have actually died without it?

Anyway, it was fun stuff.

In ohter news, this afternoon Felix filmed his animal video thingy, in which he takes nature video or something and edits it into somethng else, so he was taping people's voices to be the voices of the animals in his film noir. Cool, no? Bec was cast as a gosiping ant, as far as I know, which I think did not seem very complimentary to her, but hey she was headhunted by a casting agent, in a sense, so that's good, right?

Hmmm.... what else is news?

Well, I cut my hand open on Friday on a broken glass, and my parents were away, so I didn't bother to go and get it stitched (or glued, which I understand is what they do for littler ones like this was. I mean, there weren't exposed tendons, thank goodness). Was v. upsetting. And pretty shocking, actually. More shocking than painful. Was kinda funny, in retrospect. I was all in tears and such, but there was this cheerful muppet musical on the CD player, which I was occasssionally singing along to when those lines that you absentmindedly sing along to came along. Also, I cried on poor ole Sam, which must have been odd for him (sorry Sam), but Bec made me tea, so that was all good. And now I get exciting dressing-y things.

Also, to make up for the hurt finger and horrible Thursday, I bought myself some shoes, which was great. I haven't bought shoes in aaaagges. Feel like am proper grown up lady, buying shoes to deal with distress instead of actually solving own problems. Yay!

Also, I'm so organised that I printed out my psychology readings for the semester this afternoon, weeks before stuvac! Now all I have to do is read them, print the notes, read them, and read the textbook and so on, and I'll be set! Yay!

Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, have a pleasant day/night, this is me, signing out.

This just in...

Have just discovered the best webcomic in the world.

http://www.explosm.net/comics/archive.asp

Checkit!

(May 22 2005 is a cute one, start there for a gist. Or, y'know at the beginning. Wherever, really.)

The truth at last!

Here is why I can never seem to get my essays done:

Here is my desk:

Missing anything? Why yes! Where on earth is my computer?

Aha! There it is:



Please note also the TV guide and chocolate available to Catie to amuse herself with at this point. Also, she’s stolen my hat. Oh the humanity!

And here am I, all alone (at my desk, you understand, not in the sense of being alone in my room and thus able to do any work…), computerless, and oppressed



Woe indeed!

PS. Cat would like to point out that she believes this to be character assassination of the most unjust variety. But are you going to listen to someone like that? I didn’t think so. *shakes head censoriously*

Pics now up

Kathyrn's 21st pics arenow up on the Photo Album, because I have an essay due tomorrow. Quite possibly will die. *panics and gets back to work*

A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches!

And lo! A post!

Here are some things that have happened since my last post: (major points underlined)

*A bunch of people because erroneously convinced that I had thought they were grumpy with me, and were the subject of my last post.

*The SRC elections happened. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that we, the Aardvark party, did not win. Dammit.

*I found that forum on the internet, which I was long a member of, but which I had lost. And people remembered me!

*I got a flat tire. At 1:30 am. And my jack stopped working, due to being a folding jack, so 2 ambulance officers nobly rescued me, and it took all three of us to make it go. I felt a little stereotypically Damsel in Distress, oh-look-a-girl-and-therefore-unable-to-change-her-own-tire-y, but y'know, I know I could've done it but for the stupid jack. >.<>theatre sports final which was pretty much totally great.

*My sister Katie turned 18, which lead to two nice sub-events:
- I got a top hat. It's the most awesome top hat in all the world, and I love it
with a love both pure and true.
- She had a birthday party (about which more later)

*I got all organised and went to the library to get the info for my Latin essay, which is due on Tuesday, but which I haven't begun. I'm sure I will, though, eventually.

*Alice from school turned 21, and had a party, which was fun, and at which I danced, not, perhaps, very well, but in a manner prompting Pun to write "Oh yes, and everyone, Ang & Tim are the sweetest and "Oooh-Oooh look at them dancing" couple. It's so enjoyable to watch a good friend and her beau have fun dancing. Such a rare thing to see a guy dance well and have fun *sigh* *dreams of finding a dancing beau in the future* :D :D" So there you go. Also, the dancing lady picked on Tim and told him his dancing was "sexy". He's convinced that she was being silly and making fun of him, but I privately thought that in his black suit and shirt and whole thingy she could easily have been being serious. I nearly wore my hat to this party, but only just refrained. I also refrained from wearing the complete set of jewellery made only of Gummi Ringles, which I had made, which was noble. Also, Kathryn, who also told me that Tim seemed nice (but also threatened graphic and actual physical violence upon his person should he be less than charming to me, as did Bethany, and possibly someone else?) said that someone from her party had described me as "the articulate girl with the hot fishnets" which is pretty much great, yes? I don't recall being particularly articulate, but there you go. Never look a gift-compliment in the mouth.

*The aformentioned Kathryn (herinafter referred to as "Kathyrn") forgot her glasses at the party, so I drove the Burwood to give them back to her, because am not only articulate and fishnet wearing, but also, y'know, really great. And we had chai tea from Kathryn's cool teapot and cups, which was nice.

*Prior to which (between these last 2 events) Our house was invaded by a veritable cohort of Croakers, Tim, Pun, and a builder, early on the morning after Alice's party, but we made Woddles (penguin-shaped waffles) from the machine which Pun had given us out of the goodness of her heart, so that was all good.

*Then, that evening, I watched a classy video with Felix, called Farenheit 451, which is apparently something of a classic, about book-burning. And now I get the title of "Farenheit 9/11" which is good. And then Gladiator came on (which translates directly to "sword-er" by the way) but the appalling history made me want to hurt the tv, so I stopped watching it.

*I got my sisters both presents due to it being Katue's birthday party, and me not wanting Alex to feel left out, because I am a truly excellent sibling. Also, which I was in Chatswood doing this, I saw a shop called "Sticky" which sells lollies, which they make before your very eyes. And I saw them making those little cylindrically shaped ones with words written in the cross-section, which I have always been fascinated by the making of, but nowunderstand. So I feel that my life has been enriched. They make them by making a great big thick one with painstaking care, then stretch it out long and thin, the same way hypodermic needles are made (which is a separate but also cool fact). Also, there was a couple there ordering lollies for their wedding in the same colour as the bridesmaids' dresses and groomsmen's ties, which I thought was a pretty cool idea.

* Katie had a birthday party too, on Sunday evening, and there was a bouncy castle in the night rain, so that was cool. And I wore my excellent top hat, and came in the role of eccentric elder sister. Also, it was a great party, and we used my fairy floss maker and Chocolate Fondue Fountain, which was also good. Also at this party, one of Katie's friends told me that I was the funniest person in the world, which was nice, but odd, since I have met him only fleetingly. Perhaps he reads this? If so, hi Al. Also at this party, I went for the first swim of the season. At night! Yay! I :heart: swimming. And we watched the rain fall on the pool which waslit from within, and beautiful. And Tim swam and patted dogs, his 2 fears, in the one night, and was therefore a brave knight with damp clothing instead of a white charger.

*My sister Alex and I (and also Katie and Mum, but they arrived late, and therefore count as parenthetical) went and saw that movie Sky High. Which had people with superpowers in it, so that was nice.

*Today before work I went to the Plaza and finally spent my BNT voucher and bought some bras, which is something of a relief, sionce I only had 3 left. Also, in less over-share-y purchases, I got 2 skirts and Diva earrings, and a black handbag. I was feeling affluent, because I got organised and paid my rent ahad of time, and haven't had to pay for food (or movie tickets) over the past few days. So naturally I spent more than I had saved. But, y'know (which I have now said three times) yay.

*Today at work was Wendy's birthday, who is now 51, and we therefore had lemon meringue pie, and coincidentally, because she's a Tigers fan, we spent about an hour putting up orange and black and white balloons around the office, which was fun.

And that was my week or however long it was. Yay.

An excessively long post: my internet wasn't loading, so I just kept going.

So I was thinking, today, (I like to begin my posts as if I were already part way through a conversation with you, (which is, I suspect, a plagiarised phrase), but the recording tape placed in the room by, perhaps, the CIA, has just clicked on, starting to tape in media res), about the way people relate, and how I think about people.

I think perhaps that my approach is flawed. I was talking to a friend of mine the other night, and they seemed irritated with me, although I had absolutely no idea why. And though I always enjoy their company, and the mere thought of these friends is often/has often been enough to make me smile in sad times, it seems that the idea of them has been temporarily poisoned. (Well, made unwell, anyway, more like food poisoning than arsenic of hemlock or similar) So instead of getting that pink fuzz to my thoughts when they come up, today I feel more like a dull mental ache. Why is this? Why were they irritated with me in the first place? Were they? (I think so, I questioned other people for third party stability, in order to have them say something comforting like "no, your paranoia's just getting worse", only to have them confirm my apprehensions with their similar impression).

More importantly, why can't I handle that with a little more aplomb? Am I just a fundamentally irritating person? People around me aren't very often irritated with each other, but it seems to me that when people are irritated with someone or something, it's usually with me. Or else I really am paranoid (which is an entirely other stressor, we did paranoid schizophrenia in Abnormal Psych a few weeks ago. It was awful. If you believed that people around you were coughing to express hostility ad dislike, then by the end of flu season you'd be damn near suicidal, and this was the belief of one guy we studied).

And what if I am just an irritating person? What can I do about that? Maybe I just have no social skills and ought to just live in a box alone somewhere, with just one friend/aquaintance/employee/human contact/whatever to bring supplies, until they, too find me so tiresome that they just can't take it any more.

But this is, in all likelihood, all in my head, so perhaps disregard all that, and recall that I type at 1am.

Quite probably I'm just hugely over-interpreting. This does tend to be a bad habit of mine. Maybe I need one of those wanky mantras "Your friends like you. That's why they're your friends."

Although that really wouldn't help, surely, because if they didn't like you, what could they do? We knew someone like that in high school. Someone who sort of attached themselves to our group and whom no-one much seemed to like, but whose feelings no-one wanted to hurt. (I still feel guilty for so even articulating that. I wonder what happened to the poor girl? Can she shop in Burwood again yet?)

So if the people I talk to didn't want to hang out with me, how could they politely solve their problem? Which is a destructive line of thought, because the answer is to do things like 'not invite me out'; and 'only come over when they can't much get out of it'; 'find some way to avoid interaction, by for instance, going to sleep whenever we hang out'; 'be strangely closed off and not share details of their lives'; 'introduce me to people as "this is Tim's girlfriend, I've told you about Tim"', (which has the strange subtext of "but I never mentioned her", doesn't it?) or say things like "I'm closer with these other mutual friends of ours than you guys" even though those people rarely show up to shared social interactions, which leads in turn to the question: do you guys then hang out together and not invite me? Or is their even minimal presence so abundantly preferable to mine/ours that quality triumphs over such great quantity of time spent in our company?

None of which musings are good for me, since this has all happened to me within the last few months. I don't really interpret it so, but I feel that I have to beware lest I put a mental foot wrong and slide down the steep and slippery slope of paranoia into the dark pit of self-imposed isolation which lurks at its base.

I feel for other of my friends, who seem to feel excluded even when everyone else is enjoying their company and presence. To feel like an nth wheel seems terribly destructive. I unreservedly apologise to anyone to whom I have ever given such an impression, and assure you that it was not meant so. It is a strange and terrible thing how groups of friends, not only large ones, like our 13 school friends, but also much smaller ones, will divide slightly into little subgroups of twos and threes.

This is particularly a problem in the little groups, I think, when people pair off, starting by just being a little closer, and culminating in being so involved and absorbed in each other that no-one notices the person or people who they've left out in the cold tundra of sitting-in-silence-with-your-friends, but all alone. I realise that this is something that I have occasionally (or even, I am ashamed to say, often) been wont to do, which distresses me, and fills me with guilt. This is not ok. It's just terrible behaviour, and I wish I could more effectively safeguard from slipping into such a mode of behaviour.

I don't know, this is an entirely unjustified amount of introspection late at night, all on the basis of one person snapping at me a couple of times.

In completely other news, tomorrow (well, today, now) is the Blue Moon festival in Newtown, a celebration of all things gothic and new age, and discounts are available from all sorts of nifty shops, and I have high and unfounded hopes of buying a great necklace. It's terribly exciting, Catie and I are going to wear black and try to fit in, and hope that no-one will be on to our poorly executed ruse, and cast us from the suburb shouting "fie!" at us. Should be fun.

Gaah! 1:45! I have to get up and de-furnish my room for Blasted Felix tomorrow before 8! I had best get some sleep.

************
Since this failed to post yesterday, I will just add an addendum (I just wanted to use the word addendum, really) on the cool day that was today. It’s funny, on re-reading the stuff I typed last night, 2 things are apparent to me: Firstly, typing at 1 am lends a strangely hysterical edge to one’s text: I should bear this in mind for future essays. Secondly: A flippant tone of voice doesn’t come across well in print That reads much more seriously than ‘twas meant. Try to mentally insert a laughing tone of voice and hyperbolic gestures, if you would. I don’t really take this all so seriously. Although it does make me want to go back in time to last night and hug me. And possibly to gently pry the keyboard from my sleepy fingers and put myself to bed earlier.

Anyway, today, we got up and had to deforest the lounge room and move our beds out there. The house filled rapidly with vaguely familiar film crew type people who remembered us better than we did them. We made toast for them, and tea all round, due to being just excellent people and hosts (in fact, Catie reckons she heard one of them telling Felix that we ought to win some kind of flatmate of the year awards. Yay!)

At which point, Catie and I got dressed for our day, which was scheduled to involve the Blue Moon Gothic/Alternative Festival in Newtown. Between us, we must have put on half a kilo of eyeliner and dark lipstick and so on, and long black coats and purple-lined cloaks were all the rage. Cat had black jeans and studded belt and black top with cape and eyeliner. I made up for my normal jeans with a studded collar and about 2 to 3 times the already excessive amount of eyeliner Catie had, as well as my long black coat. Was pretty funny, we wandered out of the room in pastels, and re-entered as impressive Goths. Scared Felix hilariously.

We went to Glebe markets, because that’s what we do, although there weren’t as many stalls as usual, presumably because of the weather. Then we met Cat’s sister Sylvia, who, in a mauve top, looked mildly shaken by our appearance (which was amusing, since we’d pretty much gotten used to it by this point, and weren’t jumping whenever we caught sight of each other any more), and had delicious pizza for lunch. We wandered around Broadway momentarily, then dragged the poor thing to Newtown.

As usual, the people-watching in these areas was excellent, but today, doubly so. People who were not dressed gothically were about as common as people who are, on a normal day. It’s interesting, actually, we think of them as people in black, but there are so incredibly many varieties of things to wear, it seems, for such people. There were huge high boots, and guys in eyeliner and lipstick, and girls in corsets and ruffles, and Victorian collars and plunging necklines and all manner of things.

And, and an actual real honest-to-goodness goth in a long black skirt and petticoat an corset and high boots and the whole deal complemented us on the cloak. While drinking blood-orange-lemonade ($1 a cup, festival special).

The shop we’d actually gone to see, Les Cabinet des Curiosities, was something of a disappointment, Not that it was uninteresting (far from it, no shop with a woman in a PVC corset, and long, black, ruffled, but still also PVC skirt pushing a pram with a little baby all in black and lace, could ever be uninteresting), only that my foolish dream of me walking in and them saying “Ah! Here is exactly the thing you want, for a ridiculously convenient, nay generous, price. Would you like it wrapped?” failed, surprisingly, to eventuate.

It was cool though, all these goth parents about the place, and all their children in their tiny goth outfits, mini black boots and all. What do these children do when they grow up and want to rebel? Wear pastels?

Eventually we left, and took Sylvia to see Glebe markets as well, because she’d never been, and it was wonderfully windy, and people were packing up, and I got a very cheap pair of very OTT earrings. Then we (nobly) took Sylvia all the way home and came home ourselves, to find the house more or less back where it ought to be. Brilliant.

It was interesting though, Felix was talking to his friends, while Catie and I pottered about the room and hung pictures/made drinks etc, about how he needs a girl for his shoot tomorrow, just to walk past the camera. It’s a terrible problem for him, all the girls he knows are busy tomorrow, you see. He’s quite desperate for a girl any girl, really, just to be a backdrop person to add texture to his film. Just as we were about to suggest that we could, perhaps, help, if the situation was really as dire as all that, he says “I just need a pretty girl, to coincide with the voiceover about watching pretty girls walk past. Damn, they’re all busy, every single one that I know.” Which meant that to say “well, I’m not busy” would have sounded vain and awful. But he didn’t ask us. Either of us. This seems to me to be a staggering breach of tact. The very least he could do would be to pretend he needed a blonde or something. It seemed that there was a yawning gap in the conversation which was pointedly being not filled with “Are you busy tomorrow, Catie?”. Instead he says “she doesn’t even need to be that pretty, I mean Semi-pretty would be enough”.

Which seems wrong to me. If that’s what you think, then don’t discuss this in front of us, I feel.

It amuses me, though, once upon a time I would have been personally insulted by this. But this evening it just seemed to me that he was being rude to Cat. Possibly have grown up into realisation that I can dress as well as I like (although I rarely do), but I am not, really, “pretty”. I remember being told when I was little, that I had “quite an attractive face, really. You can see the intelligence in your face”. Which was nice, I suppose. (I hasten to point out that any “aww, I think you’re pretty” comments will be shot down in flames. Don’t mess with me just when I’ve come to a mature acceptance.) Cat, however, is fairly archetypally pretty.

The two take-home points of this episode seem to be (a) Felix was being painfully tactless, and if we didn’t fit his requirements for some other reason, he ought to have mentioned this, and (b) perhaps I’m finally growing up, although the yesterday part of this post would seem to suggest perhaps not, and (sub-point bII) I really amn’t pretty. One can have good days and bad days, but I guess sometimes you just have to recognise your limitations.

Anyway, I shall attempt to resolve not to be over-sensitive and paranoid, but also not to be irritating, and if, sitting around in a little group of five, I again catch myself ignoring people, especially if the other pair is doing the same, I resolve to be a decent friend and not bar anyone by accident or design.
So there you are: the post is way too long, but perhaps we’ve learnt something. Or I have, since I’m the only person who will have read right through.

Half assessments done! *dances foxtrot* How exactly does one foxtrot?

Of my 7 write-it-out-and-hand-it-in assessments this semester, I have now done 4. If I succeed in handing in the one due on Monday, which I certainly intend to do, then I shall have done 5 of those 7. Jeah. I'm so on the ball. 'Course, I haven't done any readings this semester, but, heck, what d'you want for nothing?

Am, in fact, deeply brilliant.

Also, yesterday, I went to HMV and bought a CD that I've been after all year, with a CD voucher, which means that the cost was, to me, effectively nil. (I say "effctively" because actually it was $3, which is effectively nil for a CD, I think. I had $70 of CD voucherness, one $50 one and one $20 one, and since the CD was $22.95, it seemed more sensible not to break the big one.) It's not a very long CD, only 10 songs, half an hour, but at least 2 of those songs are completely classic, so it's all good. Even if you look on all but 2 of the songs as being valueless (which I don't), that still meant that total cost for each of the awesome songs was something less than $1.50, when I would've bought the whole CD at $30 for one of them, so that's a definite profit.

Also, I bought two tops, similarly cheaply, one of them black with sparkliness on it, and the other one of those long ones with lace along the bottom that one wears under other tops (in this case, today, the black one) Which is lovelily toasty-warm.

Also, just as I was coming to the conclusion this morning that it was definitely possible to finish my assignment on time and hand it in in a leisurely manner, there was a knock on the door and I got a parcel! Yay! It was a birthday present from Jasmine Wong in Armidale, (double yay!) of a necklace and a cool hat and writing paper-stuff. Next to "declaration of dangerous goods: I the undersigned do swear that this parcel contains no dangeous material as defined by Section something, Article something, comma somethingslashsomething: materials which might die/smell/go bang/be terroristic subsection" She's written "This parcel contains things which may spontaneously combust." and signed it, so I consider it something of a blessing that it arrived at all, really. Obviously it would be anyway, but particularly what with her tempting fate in such a manner.

I would like to officially, thinking of official things, say here that I have no objection whatsoever to anyone other than spammers making any kind of comments whatsoever (except for maybe "you suck" not meant lightheartedly and in a friendly spirit, I suppose) on this blog. I say this because the other day I was upset and grumpy (I can't remember what about, particularly, possibly the workload in the upcoming week?) and I complained to my mother that sometimes I write long and boring and self-importantly kind-of-philosophical navel-gazing posts, and it bugs me when people say to me "that last blog post wasn't very amusing" (in person, you understand, no real problem with that posted as a comment, where it can be dealt with by me at my leisure), sometimes. Unfortunately my Dad happened in at that point, and my mother, in a well-meaning attempt to straighten this tiny issue out said to him, "she doesn't like it when you comment on her blog". And my Dad, whom I have always enjoyed the occassional comments of, and whom I encourage to comment was rather confused by this and sort of made those "what?... but... I... zuh.." sort of noises and looked hunted, as is appropriate in such a situation. The problem with this, of course, is that one then ends up with farcical misunderstanding and everyone becomes grumpy.

So I repeat: by all means comment. But if anyone feels that the quality is declining or similar, say it here, not at 11:30 when I've just finished work and have a drive down the M4, and limited sleep before an early start tomorrow ahead of me, and recall, peons one and all that whilst most of this is guff (read:everything on this entire blog, ever, is guff) I know that, that's why I set up the stupid thing, to pour guff into, just like everyone else. But it's my hole filled with guff, and I shall use cheap bulk-buy quality guff if I feel like it, so there.

Anyway, back to what I was saying before I completely derailled myself 3 paragraphs ago, the moral of this story is that I've had a very nice day, and I hope you all do too. Although I don't recommend tht Chinese brand of Lemon Ice Tea, it's a bit too tanin-y for my taste. I much prefer the Lipton variety.

Oh! That reminds me, must buy milk. Anyway, will see you all anon, possibly the next post will be a bitter polemicist diatribe against all of those of you who didn't come to my party. 4 out of 13 school friends is pretty harsh. (ah, now I remember what I was grumpy about before, that). Or perhaps it will be a paean to fairy floss. Who knows, really?

A post. A title. A girl with no appellatory imagination. This is their story. Or not.

I have no real justification for this post, but that I hope that it will turn out to be of rather higher quality than they have been, of late. [For really decent stuff, try the archives for April-ish, before the exams trampled all over my ramblings] The reason for this is appallingly tragic: I was going to give the address to some people, and it occurred to me that the August offerings will impress no-one.

Perhaps it is tragic that I would seek to impress my friends and aquaintance with this blather, but admitting that you have a problem is the first (and in my case only) step on the road to recovery. I'm taking the scenic route on this long trip, and plan to stop to change drivers and have lunch at Relapse, and possibly, if we're making good time, to take a pleasant little detour via Blatant Egoism mid-afternoon. I hear there's a delightful little cafe there that does a rather good macaroon. And good macaroons are so hard to find these days. Although not as difficult as a good creme brulee. Why, why I ask you, would anyone want to mess with that winning recipe? "White chocolate creme brulee"? What are they thinking? That makes it much too heavy.

In other news, I seem to have deleted the email addresses of my Latin class, and therfore can't invite them to my birthday party, unless I ask them all for their addresses. This is distressing, inasmuch as instead of sendiong a cool email casually and impersonally asking them if they'd like to drop by, I have to make something of a commotion of it. Worse, I can't just not invite them, because I mentioned it already, and said that I would send invites out.

Of course, this may itself have been an error, I'm really quite appallingly bad at juggling many social groups at once. I have enough trouble with school friends and uni friends in the same house, since y'all gravitate to different rooms.
With a slightly uncomfortable Latin class whom I don't really know that well (but would like to, they seem cool) thrown in, I feel a social disaster coming on. I guess it can't be worse than that time my cousin came to Hellena's party and then dated Mill for a month, could it? Not that that was bad per se, you understand, only deeply wierd. Can barely understand how people can bring boyfriends and similar to family reunions. Never seemed strange to me until I imagined myself in the introductory role. Would change entire interraction in strange and foreign way.

Perhaps next year, I ought to just turn 22, and skip the whole '21st party' issue? If I do that, though, I'm bound to regret it at 29. A terrible thing to be 30 while you were still in your 20s, I suspect.

Anyway, whilst I'd love to bore and confuse you further, I can see you checking your watch, (and you thought you were being so subtle, good grief, it's a little tactless, you know) and it's nearly midnight, which is usually not an issue, but I have to get up before 7, and I didn't get to bed last night until 3 ish. Plus I just had to do my nasty Ciceronian Latin translation, so perhaps we'd best call it a night. Sleep well, I'll see you soon, probably Saturday, I suppose.

Yay! Now I'm 20! Gosh.

Yay for birthdays and presents and haircuts and parties and suchlike!

Have gained a number of cool presents, not least a fondue fountain, any number of cool earrings,a staggering amount of chocolate, and a really cool pen and leatherbound book and all sorts of cool stuff.

Also, went to Glebe markets and bought shininess and a hat. Have never owned a hat which suited me before, is a great leap forward. Perhaps is because of slightly different hair? Anyway, yay!

Will post Kathryn 21st pics as soon as am able (ie, aftewr have taken some pics/gone to party).

Anyway, have a nice day, and if you're feeling sick/are Tim, I hope you get better and feel less like death warmed up shortly.

Hugs for all! *hug*

"Now she''ll be really, surprised by that ironing board cover..."

This may come as a surprise to you (ha!) but Friday is my birthday. The reason that this probably isn't a surprise to you is that I do tend rather to harp on about such things, no doubt to the considerable eventual annual chagrin of my friends, family, acquaintance, and people unfortunate enough to be on the same bus as me in August.

This is fine, looking forward to things is often half the fun of them. The problem is, looking forward to things these days (read: after about my 7th birthday) does tend to end up being more than half the fun of them. You build it up in tiny increments, and before you know it, it's here, and really pretty much like any other day. Which is highly disappointing, and leads to the "post-birthday blues", a relation of the "post-christmas blues" that wreaks the world in late December, early January.

The real problem with this is that I know this. I can see it coming, looming and ominous, like a giant beanbag full of dread, sitting grumpily and amorphously in the middle of my weekend. It's ridiculous, like it doesn't even take me seriously as an oponent anymore. Back in the day, it used to lurk in the dark alley of the post-birthday week, ready to cosh me as I passed with its halfbrick-in-a-sock of letdownness, but since it knows there's nothing I can do about it anymore, it doesn't even have the decency to bother to pretend to hide. It just lurks, smirks, and deliberately irks.

Worse yet, it now flows forward past the beginning of the birthday, like some grotesquely obese person taking up an entire train seat, ruining the effect even of the enjoyment of looking forward to the birthday, like a blog post with too many similes in it.

The net effect of this is that I feel terribly unstable, oscillating between the "yay, birthday!" state, and a state of diffusely frustrated grumpiness.

This latter, I find, is always exacerbated beyond belief by the question "What do you want for your birthday?". There is, of course, nothing inherently wrong with this question, and I have myself been guilty of asking people. The problem is, some people know what they want, and some people hate surprises, and for such people, this question is perfect. For me, however, who has no idea what she wants, and if she did, would hate to tell you, because then there'd be no surprise, it just opens a yawning gulf of indecision.

The thing is, surprises are great. They really are. Not always, you understand, I do hate bad surprises, and I've often felt that a surprise birthday party would be a harzardous thing: someimes you look forward to going home and getting some sleep, maybe reading that new book you haven't had a chance to open, that sort of thing. I can see how, on such an evening, coming home to a house full of people in the early stages of wearing off their sobriety, drunk on a heady mix of alcohol from your liquor cabinet and their success in conspiring against you, going on about how often they thought you were on to them, how they're lucky that you're so silly and unobservant that you didn't notice their plotting, and snickering about you behind your back.... (see how the paranoia of the tired person can spiral out of control?)... one might perhaps not appreciate a surprise party.

Conversely, surprises are really a must in presents. My sisters, for instance, have for as long as I can remember begun saying "I've bought your birthday present" well before my actual birthday. Which, I feel, can really leach the mystery out of the whole thing. Is it worse, though, when someone, 2 days before your birthday says "what do you want? I'm not sure what to get you, and I haven't got anything yet."? I think so. It rather implies a lack of thought and effort. Which is fine, there's nothing wrong with, for instance, a CD voucher, that staple of damn-it-what-does-that-person-want-? present buying.
The ultimate crime though, is following this with "I was thinking maybe..." and then listing present possibilities. Stab the surprise in the neck, why don't you? Now none of those things will be as nice as they would have been, unanticipated. And, if you get something else after all, the person will be disappointed, because they'd been hoping for one of those things which you lead them to believe you were getting.

Aaaargh.

And don't think that going out together to a shop and getting somethng is better. Then there's absolutely no mystery, and no wrapping paper, either. You know how much it cost to buy, and let's face it, either it's embarrassingly expensive, or you could really have afforded it yourself. So why don't I just go shopping by myself for the hell of it? Then I wouldn't be restricted to just the genre of present you were thinking and could buy whatever I wanted. I can see that it's very thoughtful and considerate and you'll-get-exactly-what-you-want-y, but really it's just a step down from voucher.

Furthermore, in my experience, much of the charm of presents is that they're often things you wouldn't buy for yourself,or things that you'd look at in the shop and be indecisive about, or things that simply wouldn't occur to you to shop for, but which, when you own it, becomes rapidly indespensible, which is especially the case with some handbags. (Kathyrn gave me one one which was great, but subsequently broke, which was completely tragic.)
I tend to be bit indecisive when shopping, (although I do believe in erring on the side of caution, and when-in-doubt-buying), so surely this would just load that indecision with weight and stress?

Gaah... I don't know. It's all so complicated.

On a lighter note, here is my favorite picture in the world:



And here is everybody's favourite stick figure, Henry:

Another post! 3rd in 24 hours! Good grief, essays must have started...

So, I have nothing interesting to impart here, but don't want that last, irrationally grumpy, post to be the top post.
Therefore, in the spirit of such things, I give you: pictures!
My sster has recently joined the Young Liberals:so here is an artist's impression of what she might look like in 10 years:


Here is a dodgy picture of me wearing my sunglasses which I keep meaning to get repaired:



Here are Cat and Hellena and Pun:



Here is Tim, whom my school friends have mostly not seen:



Here is a picture of a mouth:



Here are Sam and Bec:



Here is a faery:



Here is my sister on a swing: (if you want a copy of any of these, let me know also what sort of size you'd like)




Here is a skelington in thought:


Here is a sig that was made for me by a friend on an internet forum I used to hang out at;


And last of all, here is my current desktop wallpaper, which Is so busy that I can't find any icons, and have to search the screen if I want to open a program, but which I nonetheless rather like, having compiled it of internet avatars only yesterday:



Have a nice day. :)

Feeling thwarted (isn't that a great word?)

Today, I really wanted to go the Glebe markets, there's a pair of earing and a hair dealy that I was after, and I have a terrible suspicion that they'll be gone by next week. But I promised that I wouldn't unless I'd written 1000 words of my essay, and it's not even really started (disaster).

But this afternoon, we went breifly to Broadway. Aims: to buy a pair of stockings that I've been wanting, to buy a lipstick/gloss, to try on those shoes that I wanted. Also, try and get Catie to buy that dress she wants, and to get some Coke.

So we went to Kmart, and we search high and low, and they didn't have any stockings even remotely like the ones I wanted.

And then they'd sold out of all the lipsticks of the kind I wanted except for the really orangey ones.

And the shoes tured out to be not that nice, certainly not as nice as I'd remembered, and they were uncomfortable.

And then my shoes gave me blisters.

So we went to Coles, and they'd sold out of regular flavoured Coke in all bottle sizes. How unthinkably awful. They were restacking shelves, but only in Lime flavour. Ew.

We went to BiLo, and they had Coke, but it cost nearly twice as much as at Coles. (What's with that?).

This all makes me feel grumpy. I would cheerfully have sacrificed either the shoes or the stockings or the lipstick, but all three is entirely excessive. All that I've acheived this afternoon is to go out and not write my essay, and I have nothing whatsoever to show for it. I wish I was young enough to throw a childish and senseless tantrum, and throw things until am brought what I wanted.

And, and, I may not even get to go the Glebe markets next week, becausemy little sister, who has become increasingly grumpy of late, has Tournament of Minds. Whilst this is kind of useful, because it solved my will-I-go-skiing-for-my-birthday-weekend-or-will-I-do-the-good-friend-thing-and-skip-it-to-go-to-Kathryn's-party dilemna, it now means that not only do we definitely not get to go skiing this weekend, which would have been really great, but also, my Saturday is stuffed.

The plan had been that for a birthday present my Dad was going to take me to the markets and give me some of those things that I always see and want but can't justify buying. But instead, Alex has ToM, which means that my parents will go and stand around all day waiting for her team to do their 5 minute skit and display their little bridge. So that's pretty much skewed my day. Once a month my Dad gets a weekend where he's not on call, and when he can go out of a 20 minute range of Penrith, and in the months where someone in the family has a birthday, he takes the weekend closest to that birthday, which becomes a 'birthday weekend'. This, of course sucks for him, but incidentally means that I'll never get to do the market thing, since nextmonth is my other sister's birthday, and as if we'll go in October. Ha.

So basically my birthday present is nullified. Yay.

And I haven't even started my huge essay that I wanted to have done by now. I hate everthing. *kicks wall*

I'm filled with directionless and irrational resentment towards everything. And no-one but Cat has commented on any of my posts recently anyway. So who cares? I don't know why I'm even bothering to post this, either (a) no-one will read it, in which case it's a waste of my time, which I haven't got enough of, or (b) people will read it and tell me that I'm being selfish and of course we'll do it in October/whatever (which we won't, and anyway, by then what I want will be sold) or (c) people will read this but still not comment, so it'll be the best of both worlds, so I feel like I'm writing into a void, and no-one reads it etc. but actually everyone will just be mentally looking reproachfully at me.

hatehatehate.

AND on Thursday I went to an incredibly boring trivia thing for Sutekh, then ended up driving people home to Bondi Junction and Chatswood until ridiculously late, and it turns out that my uni friends went and had dinner together that night at Bec's place, where I've never even been, and I didn't get to go (not that they told me, you understand), while I was driven to such boredom that I folded about 100 paper cups out of bits of paper and won things like tiny plastic glow-in-the-dark zombies.

Then yesterday I didn't get to say hello to people, after I'd said that I would come back and drop in, because we had to make sure we didn't miss [the worst episode ever of] Strictly Dancing, a dull show at the best of times. And so people will be irritated with me, and the people who were like "suuure you 'll come back and say hi, you don't really like us at all" will think that they were right and resent me even more than they already did.

And I'm going to end up writing this essay on Monday evening/night, and then I'll have to get up for a 9am start, which is a tutorial which I have to write a report on, so I cna't be late, and have to be functional, and then I'll have togo to Latin, for which I haven't yet done the exercise due on Monday, and then a psych tutorial, and then I have to be functional/awake enough to give a presentation on my essay and then I have another lecture, and then, after this already big day of uni, I have to go to work for 6 hours or something, and then drive all the way home from Penrith to snatch enough sleep that I can get up for 9 am on Wednesday.

aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....................

Probably, on the whole, a good thing that no-one reads this, I guess. How depressing.
I should really get some work done, I suppose.

And in a blatant steal from Sam's brother Jez's blog...

I bring the new I-have-a-2700-word-essay-due-on-Tuesday time waster....

Google the phrase "[your first name] is" so in my case "Angela is", then post the most interesting results.

-Angela is arrested, and Ken thinks it's time he and Deirdre got married.

-Angela is flawless

-ANGELA is a gem, and it's full of help

-Angela is mentally handicapped, her intellect is that of a ten or eleven year old

-Angela is an angel who's job it is to hunt various beings of evil

-Angela is being framed

-Angela is the attractive but hard-bitten wife of an ageing Mafioso

-Angela is kind and good; Diabola is hateful and wicked.

-Angela is lying in bed like a sack of nothing, so what would she know?

-Angela is often late for school, and sometimes just disappears during class

-Angela is perfectly able to speak [and how...]

-Angela is up bright andearly every morning [HA! ahahhahaha....]

-Angela is terrified. What’s wrong with the world?

-Angela is a "non-notable person"

-Angela is a hunter; one of few angels that have been granted permits to huntHellspawns as part of Heaven's cold war with Hell

-Angela is hypoglycemic, and she mustget her some chocolate.

-Angela is not a person

-Angela is the hapless victim

So there you go.

I missed Butterfingers last week, but still, sometimes ' I <3 Work' -Wierd, eh?

My Dad tells me that I'm letting the side down, having not posted since that thing a week or so, which wasn't, to be honest, all that interesting. (As an aside, if you're after "all that interesting" what on earth are you doing here? Try www.satirewire.com perhaps).

This evening, work was fun. (!) Dad was running pretty late, and had to go out for an operation. So one of our charming patients went out to get some petrol and came back with Smarties for me. Yay! so we were all sitting in the waiting room drinking coffee and herbal tea and discussing how dodgy Love Song Dedications is, and listening to Whitlams CDs. And then we had to reschedule a couple of people to tomorrow because of him having to go to the hospital to do an operation of unknown duration, and one of the patients on the phone told me that I was "an absolute gem, and Dr. P. should definitely know the value of his staff" Which is, as you will gather from the inverted commas, a direct quote. And then we discussed toffee apples for a while.

In other news, it turns out that I've been misfiling the accounting for the last year and half, but I've realised now, and that's the important thing, and spent and instructive hour fixing that little problem. Am unutterably lucky that it was me who realised this, and not one of the other secretaries.

Note to self: investigative accountancy is not your forte. Keep your day job.

(And now to take a moment to say "unutterably" a few more times... unutterably unutterably unutterably unutterably unutterably unutterably . Jeah.)

Also, I did a tut presentation today for abnormal psychology, and yay for Powerpoint for diminishing the workload and increasing the apparent professionalism of such things tenfold. But un-yay for the tutor asking me a bunch of confusing questions afterwards.

Also non-yay for the slight brokenness of my earrings, but equally, yay for my having found the earrings at all, having completely forgotten their existance. Perhaps I need one of those earring board thingies. A greeeaaaat big one, to fit all my ultra-dangly ones.

Also, was in the QVB the other day, and saw a necklace which may or may not be as cool as I now remember it being. Will therefore go and visit it in a few days, before getting seriously stuck into my Ancient history paper (gaaah for 2500 words on subjects I have no knowlege of), the sources for which I efficiently copied and borrowed last week, but the books for which are due back on Friday.

Interesting thought: how would it be if, instead of writing a prizewinnning novel from scratch, I just publish my blog in volume form, under the title 'Serengetti Yaks' or similar?

Did you know that The Whitlams are bringing out a mini-album in October? And a normal one in April? Yay!

And finally: Birthday countdown: B - 10 days
Party is at P- slightly more than a fortnight. The 3rd, people, be there.

Have decided to become a world famous author this week

Have a brilliant plan: will become a highly successful, world acclaimed, prize winning, obscenely wealthy author beloved the world over in manner of J K Rowling and similar. I know it will be great, as I have a great openning sentence, although no idea as to actual content/characters/subject/plot etc.

Here's my first sentence:

"There are no yaks in the Serengeti."

Which is just excellent, I think. Am thinking of having the second sentence being

"Rose wished the same could be said of her kitchen."

Not sure where it's going from there, or why there's a yak there, but I think that there's definite potential there. Will try to work the phrase "eyed her balefully" into the next sentence.

Also, am modern poet of great quality already, check out my new poem, I call it "culture":

Ahem...

"Toasters.
Toasters in the
Darkness."

Deep isn't it?

I tell you, I don't know why I'm not famous already.

Also: a clip of Harry Potter being spoiled for Tom Hanks. Poor guy, just like all those SMH readers. (Stupid SMH)
(watch out, obviously there're SPOILERS)
http://hankspotter.ytmnd.com/

Holidays drawing to a close... nooo....

Well, I'm back. Yay!

Obviously I was already back, but still. I'd written that last post while I was away, and then posted it on my arrival. Still I did think that my newfound ability to post pictures was pretty damn impressive.

Today being the first Saturday I've been available in living memory, and my imagination being seriously limited, we went to Glebe markets. Always good, as I have doubtless told you repeatedly. But I got a new wrist cuff and a coat (because, y'know, I didn't have enough coats, right?) which was only $30, which is pretty cool. Also new earrings and a badge which says "It's never too late to have a happy childhood". And we ran into about 5 people from school, strange.

Anyway, now we're watching an old Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers ,which has nice dancing and all, but which is quite breathtakingly sexist. Like, staggeringly so.

Women aren't allowed into the dancing club unless they have an escort. A girl gets a makeover and says "well, I guess I can be dumb and get a man", and picks up the guy who'd been horrible to her before and likes him.
She tells him that she was the girl in glasses from before and he says "well, I suppose I still like you" and asks her what she does and he says he's a teacher, and he sort of draws back, but forgives her when she says she's a music teacher.

Good grief.

In other news, I have Fridays off again this semester! Yay!

Holidays: Now Illustrated! (hopefully...)

Well, it’s actually snowing today, which is new and different, as yesterday there was rain and previously only melty sunshine, so this is definitely a Positive Development.

If this works, it will be a great leap forward, but here goes…

View from the kitchen window yesterday:

(that’s rain, by the way)

Same this morning:

Cool, yes?

Frustratingly, however, there’s no internet access from my computer, so I’ll have to post this when I get home. This, I regret to say, probably bodes ill, as I’m sure to just keep adding stuff to what will become a Leviathan of a post by the end of the fortnight. Conversely, have nobly managed not to start until the first Friday (good grief, it’s Friday already?), so will really only be a week.

Feel v. sorry for all those people in London, just after they’d managed to win the Olympic bid, someone insists on trying to blow them up. Really in most appalling taste. Further, clearly the terrorists are pretty dim; if you wanted to cause maximum damage to the population and public transport of London [which obviously you don’t, or I wouldn’t be friends with you, and why would you be reading this? If we didn’t like each other in the first place, surely my tangential and inconsequential rambling would be insufferable), would you wait until after 9 am to detonate? Quel idiots. They’d’ve done much more damage at 8:40–ish, while everyone was still rushing to work.

In point of fact, anyone who could find their arse with an atlas ought to be able to take out more than 50 people with 4 bombs in peak-hour London Public transport. V. hard to take such people seriously, no wonder they’re reduced to trying to blow people up, rather than actually make a political move the proper way, they probably can’t spell ‘political’. Really, this is not the way to gain the world’s respect.

On the other hand, obviously is terribly sad that all these people were hurt, and inasmuch as what is written here matters at all, sympathy, support, etc is extended.

Particularly upsetting is the fact that Camden was damaged. If those markets are gone, or hurt in any way, I shall deal very sternly indeed with any terrorists I come across, I love those markets. They’re like Glebe Markets to the max, all sorts of cool stuff, including a shop called “The Fairy Gothmother”. How cool is that?

In fact, I say we should all go to London soon, and visit. Maybe put flowers on the underground or something.

My teeth are getting crooked, I think, possibly because of as yet un-erupted [erupted, ew, what an uncomfortable sounding word] wisdom teeth. This irritates me, very much do not wish to be a 20-year-old with braces. How awful.

Also, still unable to wrestle my timetable into submission, as enrolment variations page refuses to load at the incredibly expensive internet café thing.

********

Is very exciting, went out to dinner tonight, and when we returned, the fire alarm went off (not immediately, you understand, but a few minutes later: it wasn’t because we’d returned). Although this is of itself unexciting, the fire brigade came and everything, and they even extended their ultra-long ladder to get up to the balcony of the apartment whose alarm it apparently was. I’ve never seen this done in real life before, so I can tick that off the list, I suppose.

Didn’t get a picture of the ladder thing, and tried to take a picture of the truck in the snow, but what with the dark night-time-ness and the flash, it’s basically a picture of the reflectors on the truck, but here it is, anyway:



Relievingly/disappointingly we didn’t get evacuated to stand outside in the –3 degree midnight while flames billowed out of windows or anything. Apparently was a false alarm. Mildly frustrating, as we’d packed little bags to take with us if so. Mine had my laptop and mobile and notebook and teddy bear equivalent (I got that Bunny on the day I was born, and v. much love it, would be terrible if it was burnt). Also a packet of American Jelly Beans to cheer up the hypothetical disconsolate and cold crowd. (I do like those Jelly Beans, the ones that say “Jelly Belly” on them. Bt not the chocolate pudding flavoured ones, ew). Strange, actually, in a room you’re on holiday in, none of your irreplaceable stuff seems to be there. You look into drawers and think “well, I do like that jumper, but it’s not really irreplaceable per se, is it? I can’t take everything, so therefore I’ll take none of this.”

But then we had to unpack them again anyway, so there you go.

Now, though, I definitely know the answer to those hypothetical questions. Quite useful to have been asked so many times, didn’t need to think about it too much.

Going skiing! Don't forget to miss me!

So, the problem is this: I want to post, especially since I'm going to the snow tomorow, but I have sod all by way of things to say. My theory is that the exams have momentarily sucked all creative writing ability from my brain. Also my ability to type apparently. *edits*

Today was Pun's bithday outing, so we all went by ferry to Manly and had fish and chips and then went to Max Brenner, the chocolate Bar. Quite nice actually (unsurprisingly). Yes, I am the last huiman being in the world (well, the last female in Sydney) to have not gone to a Max Brenner Chocolate Bar.

A bit expensive, perhaps, but for a dollar fifty you can get a "chocolate lick" which is a little pot of hyper-rich melted chocolate and a swizzle stick to eat it with, which is pretty good, really. Bizarrely, to get strawberries to dip in it and a plate underneath it all brings the price up to six dollars. But then again, they were pretty excellent strawberries.

Heh, wrote "starberries" by accident then. Wouldn't those be nifty? I wonder what they'd be like? Makes me think of that Narnia book "The Silver Chair", when the heroes taste fruits that are what rubies and emeralds and so on are before they 'die' and become stones and so on. Apparently they're very juicy and nice, and describes with lots of superlatives.

Was something of a Narnia fan in my youth, although was irritated when realised that was full of subtext. But there you go. When one is young, evryone always tries to surreptitiously educate one. Don't ven get me started on how I felt when I realised what "Spot learns to count" was really about. Oh the betrayal, the wounds are still hutting, honestly.

Watching Rage again. (yes, I can hear groans from our readers everywhere, this means that the post must be going nowhere). Wish to be in a famous band so as to have a cool and self-indulgent video clip. Would be the lead singer, possibly the only girl in the band, and therefore the clip would be just one of those where the girl wears lots of cool clothes and makeup and does nifty stuff. I wonder if they're fun to film? You'd assume so, especially if you get to keep the costumes, which presumably you would. Would wear completely OTT eyeliner. Then could live normal life by simply not applying eyeliner when wished to buy groceries etc. Although obviously, if I felt like it, I could just send one of my sub-assisstants to buy the milk.

Aha! A slipknot videeclip just came on, was silent completely and then flicked to blank silent screen of grey and then the ABC symbol. Wish it was the drunken technician picture from the Simpsons, that would be pretty cool, though not, obviously, as cool as being famous and making music videos.

In other news, went to Pun's house this evening and got music, particularly nostalgic dodgy music, of which approximately 1/3 of my music collection is comprised. Foremost among these newcomers are the two Tracy Chapman songs that make me feel like I'm 6 (or however old I was) again, Spiderbait's Glockenpop, and Morcheeba's Rome Wasn't Built In A Day, which always reminds me or the second last time I went to England.

Going skiing for two weeks as of tomorrow morning. Will return on Sunday the 17th or 18th or whatever it is, won't that be nice? Problem with skiing is that I'm soooo tired at the moment, so it's hard to get enthusiastic. Moreover, there won't be any internet connection. Am currently checking the internet at least once every day. Absolute minimum. Might very conceivably die. (especially if my skiing's as bad as I remember it being).

At presetn, Kathryn might or might not be going to drop in and say hi. It seems unlikely, but the problem in such situations is that you then don't feel comfortable to put on pyjamas or have a shower or go to sleep, all night. The doorbell could always ring at any moment. There's basically no relaxation in an evening where someone might drop in.

Which leads us to the concept of surprise parties. Yesterday night we went to the surprise welcome-home-from-exchange-in-england party of Winnie, a friend from uni who's been overseas since before the beginning of this blog, and therefore hasn't really featured before.

The thing is, I would, were a surprise party to be thrown for me, according to Narative Law, have just settled in for a relaxing nightof dodgy tv and really making a dent in my new book. This problem is probably insurmountable, though.

Speaking of which, I bought a new book today. What with the exams and the one-huge-essay-a-week-due for the entire sencond half of semester, I haven't read a new book in months and months. Is very exciting event, therefore.

Aaarrgh, if I don't sleep, I'll die, so I'll see you all anon. Thanks for the applause, guys, and have a nice fortnight, try not to destroy the world in my absence.

PS. My timetable for next semester apparently has such awful clashes that they won't even show it to me: I need to go to the student centre! But I'll be away for the next 2 weeks! Aaargh!

Seprately, one of the rather nice guys in my Latin class is throwing a party tonight, which I won't be able to go to, because of being out of town, but is v. wierd, as turns out he lives in my suburb. Wierdly coincidental. oooohh....
Kinda wish I could go now, as I could walk, and therefore I could actually drink. Since I have the car and license, I can never everdrink when we go out. Is highly unjust.