Vivat Vivendum, si hic vivendum esse potest.

So, today was uneventful, really, but yesterday was pretty cool.

Went to my first university protest rally march. (In third year. Yeah, go my social conscience) Against VSU, which was all good. Marched to Railway Square and back, chanting rousing anti VSU chants ("VSU is not our choice, give the students back their voice!") etc. and making up better ones of our own ("Who will we meet? Native Americans! How will we greet them? HOW!").

Very embarrassing moment at railway square, people in the buildings were looking down at the crowds, and in attempt to get them to wave at us, waved at them. They didn't see, so flamboyantly blew kisses, for the hell of it, as you do, and then they waved at me. Was quite disproportionately embarrassed, but was v. amusing to those nearby when I ducked down and hid among the crowd in act of pitiful wimpiness.

Anyway, then we went back to the front lawns and amid boring and ill-delivered speeches (except that of something-president Sam Crosby, who had quite impressive rhetorical skill, really) the Whitlams played, (just the 4 songs, but they were "Gough", "Blow up the Pokies", "No Aphrodisiac" (which, as always, they sang weirdly live, but who cares, really?) and "You Sound Like Louis Burdett" so that was great.) And Wil Anderson performed, which was great.

Since Wil Anderson and The Whitlams was secretly the reason I actually went - don't get me wrong, VSU = evil and so on, but one needs a better reason to miss vital Latin notes- and they were so great it was all good. 3 of us even got organised enough to dance to Louis Burdett, although my foot was completely asleep for the first half, which was sad, in its own little way. In a moment of obsessive fangirlism, could have sworn that Tim Freedman looked at me.

Went to Broadway and bought Thirsty Merc CD with my CD voucher, which was good, but not the utter classic that the new Cat Empire CD is. (A quote from which, translated into dubious latin in an idle moment, is the title of this post- Long Live Living, if living can be this)

Went home and footled idly for a few hours and then, on indecision driven impulse, Catie and I rushed to Chatswood at high speeds to watch Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy movie, which was pretty good (ok, excellent, yay) with Tim and two of his friends.

Then we drove Tim home via some park where we all stopped to wander aimlessly and blather about all sorts of things, of which I have limited memory.

I do, however, remember Tim telling me that I was very tall (he was standing downhill at this point, obviously). Didn't really give this a second's thought until about ten minutes ago, when in a fit of bored curiosity, stood barefoot back to back with Catie. In defiance of all expectation, and in a bruising blow to my ego, Catie is slightly taller than me. Is quite ridiculous, as have always considered myself to be the same height but taller than her. Is probably because was taller than her in year 7, and haven't reassessed height since we met. Also I suppose I tend to wear higher shoes, and, just distantly possibly, completely overanalyse passing comments.

Am moving on as of this moment.... NOW.

Then we finally took Tim home, where he had to forcibly eject us at 1 am. Poor Tim. Poor us. Which is not to say that turning off all the lights without warning, opening a door and saying "after you" lacks, you know, social finesse or anything. No indeed. Is essence of smoothness.

Feel perfectly safe typing such things, as Tim apparently never on internet, and besides... it was funny.

And that concluded the interesting (ish) bits of yesterday.

Oh, except that we met another of Tim's friends at the rally, who had a cloak (not as good a cloak as mine will be when I get organised though), and who was talking to another person in a cape and the hottest flipping boots I've seen in ages.Knee-high black leather with buckled straps all the way up the sides. My description does those boots no justice. They were awesome. According to Tim, he wears knee-high stripy rainbow socks under them. Coooool....

Today was uneventful, although Sam and Bec dropped in in passing, which is, lets face it, about as unusual as having toast for breakfast, and therefore not really deserving of Event Status. Although obviously very nice. Like toast with that Orange and Ginger Marmalade. That stuff is great. (Much better than seeing a ghost, the sight Desiree fears most)

Also, and I know I may conceivably have mentioned this a few zillion times, but I've slashed my thumb open horribly. It hurts. And it's really irritating because it gets caught on things. Ugh.

Still, am nonetheless terribly talented. Managed to rescue moribund pearl coil bracelet and have made new bracelet out of old pearls. Not perhaps quite as nice, but good enough, really. Another example of why I would have made a great 1940s woman. Can sew and cook. And probably can clean, although not entirely sure, as have never tried. Could certainly pose with a vacuum cleaner for soft focus propaganda poster. Sure could hire maid to do the rest. But then, what is point of other domestic attributes? Would be pointless to cook/sew if had accomplished maid. Conundrum.

I decided at about 10 am this morning to become rich and famous. Toyed with idea of becoming famous bass player, as easiest musical instrument to learn, as far as I know, and music v. glamourous. Also with inventing something fantastic, or becoming a famed artist. More long term type of fame, but less exciting and glamourous, and again am hampered by a very serious lack of skill and talent.

V. frustrating, am sure that must be unique and great, but since most people are, there seems to be no real marketing strategy there.

Determined to be rich though, as want to have cellars with vaulted ceilings. And possibly a dungeon, and a very tall tower with a spiral staircase (spiralling in the right direction, anticlockwise, so as to be defensible by sword, in manner of proper castles, which this will be) and a great hall with a dais, and miles of stone corridor and so on. All centrally heated/air conditioned of course, with underfloor heating, so will have to be very rich indeed.

Perhaps will meet telepathic Duke or Earl or similar with vast resources of wealth? Seems unlikely, and if so, he is surely sure to be an unmitigated git. He could hardly help it really. But possibly the telepathy thing would crack his austere outer... shell? And he could send me orchids or similar? Nah. All wrong from a member of aristocracy of this variety.

Is it healthy that I'm considering what sort of flowers an uber rich telepathic castle owning earl would send? I think not.

Will therefore sign out and watch rage. Have a charming weekend, friends. May your weekend contain less writing of Psych essay than mine will.