Going elsewhere

It seems that my last few posts, and other posts before, have upset, hurt or publicly shamed some people I know.
I'm not going to lie about anything, so I'm not going to stop writing about the bullshit that happens and how I feel about it.
I will apologise to people who have been hurt by things I've written here, but I won't lie about, deny, gloss over or sublimate things that have stayed with me for a reason. I don't take things lightly. I get offended, and I'm not going to apologise for that and act like things never happened.
The reactions I've received from some of the things I've said or written have been pretty upsetting to me as well and I'm quite sure I've lost a few friends. But I'm tired of excusing people for the fucked up things they say and try to defend.
So I'm not going to continue writing here.
I will continue writing at another blog, so if you're actually interested in continuing to follow me, shoot me an email, a tweet, leave a comment with your email, whatever and I'll let you know the address.
If you only come here with the intent to prove me wrong on any count, fuck off.

You ugly 2

Carrying on from yesterday's post about Teh Ugly, I found this awesome post from over at Shakesville called The This Is My Flaw Project. It's well worth the read, and Shakesville is more than worth a bookmark. Here's an excerpt:

Being beautiful on the inside doesn't change the fact that it's still a
radical act to look different and be happy in this culture. If you're obviously,
undisguisably Less Than Perfect, you're not only meant to be unhappy, but deeply
ashamed of yourself, projecting at all times an apologetic nature, indicative of
your everlasting remorse for having wrought your monstrous self upon the world.
You are certainly not meant to be bold, or assertive, or confident—and should
you manage to overcome the constant drumbeat of messages that you are ugly and
unsexy and have earned equally society's disdain and your own self-hatred,
should you forget your place and walk into the world one day with your head held
high, you are to be reminded by the unsolicited comments and contemptuous looks
of perfect strangers that you are not supposed to have self-esteem; you don't
deserve it. Being publicly Less Than Perfect and happy is hard; being publicly,
shamelessly, unshakably Less Than Perfect and happy is an act of both will and
bravery. That is the world in which we live. And being beautiful on the inside
doesn't fucking change that. ... Which is why it is imperative to challenge the
criteria by which the world judges beauty, to look at the profoundly
unreasonable, totally crazymaking, and inherently condemnatory Beauty Standard
in its increasingly unachievable face and tell it to fuck off.

You ugly

It seems people everywhere have been talking lately about what it is to be ugly.
Hack on TripleJ this week has been doing shows about Body and Beauty - this afternoon I got to listen to a guy talk about how much it sucks being an ugly person. Which, it seems, wasn't much of a deal for him. At one point he said "yeah, in high school I was the ugly guy and it was just accepted and we got on with it". I'm looking forward to the rest of the week's episodes. Here's a linky to the Hack page, they usually post the shows after a couple of days.
I stumbled upon this great documentary called Too Ugly For Love, which is about Body dysmorphic disorder, which I had only heard of briefly before. It must be an absolutely terrible way to live, and I'm sure it's hard on partners and friends of people with BDD as well. Check out the doco - it's frustrating to watch, as these are people who just plain believe above all that they are ugly, but fret and worry and obsess over it.
A friend of mine wrote a fantastic post called The Definition of Ugly, where she talks about how she is not conventionally pretty, and then follows it up with a totally awesome, inspiring post called The Definition of Beautiful about how she is fucking gorgeous. Cause she is.
Then there was the finale of Australia's Biggest Loser sometime recently (I don't know, I don't watch TV, I don't have an antenna, it's great) and I was compelled to look at all the before and after photos of these people.
And ugh, if that wasn't enough to make me barf, the most-viewed galleries on my regular news sites were galleries of the Miss Universe Australia and Cleo Bachelor of the Year competitions, cause we all sure do love rewarding people for being pretty.
With all this beauty-talk floating around I turned where I always turn in these times when I want to think about something: to Wikipedia. And boy does the article have some truthful and funny quotes. Let's see what we've got here shall we?

"Despite the existence of universally agreed upon signs of beauty in both genders, both heterosexual and homosexual men tend to place significantly higher value on physical appearance in a partner than women do."
This reminded me of a conversation with my coworker the other day. He asked me how many 'categories' girls make up for men - you know, hot, cute, etc. I was up for some heady generalising and I came up with about 5 - Ugly, Average, Cute, Hot, Handsome. I added that although a guy may be ugly, that's no indicator that he won't pick up if he's nice or funny or interesting or intelligent. I then asked how many categories girls have.
The answer? I'd-Fuck-You or I-Wouldn't. There's also a small in-between section called Come-Back-In-A-Few-Drinks.
How many 'ugly' guys do you see with hot chicks? Plenty.
Now think about how many 'ugly' chicks you see with hot guys.

Back to wiki - on Build being a determinant of male attractiveness:
"...Western men have a tendency to overestimate the amount of muscle considered ideal by women..."
Hehe. This just reminds me of those guys I see walking to the gym with their stupid Fitness First bags and they can't put their arms straight by their sides, and they're wearing singlets. Singlets should never be worn by men. I hope they know that.

Oh this one is lovely - Breast size as an indicator of female attractiveness. Note that the section for female attractiveness is so much larger than the one for males. Because that's how you're being judged dear.
"Large breasts have also been shown to be attractive to men in Western societies, with the explanation that larger breasts will more explicitly show the aging process, hence an "honest" indicator of fertility."
So when your boobs start to sag, it's time to trade her in for a shiny new one. I love how pretty much every single guy I've ever known, when it's come to the "breast size" conversation has said with a straight face, "I only like as much as my hand can hold", yet you never yell and whoop and loudly point out the small-chested girl walking down the street, SmallHands Joe. But I guess it's okay to make a big deal out of someone's boobs when they're huge. It's not like they would be there unless she wanted you to see them right! Huh, am I right?! Cause they're on the front of her like that, she just WANTS you to look at them! Hey, she's not looking, cop a feel!
I'm really glad I don't have big boobs. I have heard some pretty fucking depressing stories from my big-breasted sisteren. At least I can hide mine with a jumper.

Body mass & body structure: "...it should be noted that, in the United States, women overestimate men's preferences for thinness in a mate"
Wouldn't you say this is because it is constantly being shoved down our throats that we HAVE to be thin to be beautiful? What the fuck else are you supposed to think when that's what you are told your entire life? I'd like to let it be known that it only occurred to me about two months ago that my stomach was not fat because it sticks out a little in line with my hips. Because that's where my organs are! I'd just never ever seen a photo of a celebrity with the same stomach as me. I'd also like to let it be known that my legs are short and round and super muscular. So are a lot of other girls' I know. One time, someone I considered a friend pointed to one of my girl-friends with the same legs as me and said "Man every time I see her all I can hear in my head is "THUNDER". Yeah I get it. Thunder thighs. Thank you. I'm super confident now. I'm just glad she didn't hear.

Ooh...the article also brings youthfulness and fecundity into it, confirming everyone's fears that you get ugly and useless as you get older. Since you're constantly getting older, wouldn't you just be getting uglier minute by minute?
"...a preference of neotenic and youthful-appearing features. Full lips, clear, smooth skin, clear eyes, lustrous hair, and good muscle tone are all viewed as attractive in women."
Then it also goes into some stuff about female attractiveness based on hair, including body hair, and reaffirms all that crap we've been through before in here about dudes not liking your body hair you filthy gorilla-she-wolf. So we're bringing it all back to the "paedomorphic characteristics" desired in women by males, which unless you need me to spell that out for you, is disturbing. I know a lot of guys who really do prefer girls who look very young. Wikipedia says here: "As men age, they also desire a larger age gap from their mates".

Veering off a little on the whole body hair thing, considering it seems to be a huge trend in the past couple of years, if it hasn't been happening since time immemorial, that dudes don't like your pubes, can I just say this... I hate when the discussion of "to shave or not to shave" comes up and women pull out the defense "I'm a full grown woman, I don't want to look like a pre-pubescent girl down there". I'm going to posit that shaving is not a matter of me wanting to look like a pre-pubescent girl. I'm also really hoping that the people I have slept with who prefer shaved pubes are also not into the "pre-pubescent" look for the sole reason that, "hey dude, heh, it looks like I'm sleeping with a 12 year old. Hawt."
It's for comfort. I don't count the existence of hair on my snatch as the miraculous proof that I Am A Lady. You can continue to not shave. But don't call me any less of a woman cause I do.

Anyway, all this thinking about vagina has led me on the obvious path to thinking about James Franco, so I'll leave you all with some happy thoughts.

Dear James Franco:
I had a dream about you this morning and it was very sexual, and I'm hoping that you think that's okay and if you do, do you maybe feel the same way, and if you do, would you like to get together for coffee sometime?
Love Tash

New Tattoo

Hey y'all, just a quick update to show off my new tattoo that was done today.
I got to Wild at Heart on Charlotte St in the city and Victoria is the girl who does all my tatts. She is awesome and takes her time to do it right. I had her draw up this tattoo for me in February and we finally got everything sorted out right in time for Rudd bucks!
The whole outline is finished and the black shading has been done, but I went into shock when she was just starting the green, after 3 hours of tattoo-age, and started crying involuntarily and hyperventilating. I don't remember that part much but I guess I must have been pretty bad cause she decided to stop for the day and made my boyfriend go buy me lunch. I had no idea you can go into shock but apparently it's pretty common for large tattoos. Uncool!
Anyway it's only half done as it still needs to be entirely shaded - it will be green and purple in the end. Joker colours!
So here's some pics. Enjoy!

Shut up

Dears dudes in my life:

Just by pointing out that *one* woman you can think of has a nice high-profile corporate job does not mean *all* women have been treated equally in the workforce.
Just when you think we live in a country that is not completely backwards, girls my age are being charged for procuring abortions. Goodbye choice. I will miss you.
Just because you don't notice sexism doesn't mean I don't feel it and it's not there because I assure you IT IS.

Just because you say you are not, and never have been sexist does not mean you can profess that sexism no longer exists and therefore feminism is useless.
You are only showing your privilege over me and all women by discounting my experience as a female.
Kthxbye.

Anniversary Speech

Here it is in all it's cheesy sappy glory, because I want to share with you how sap-filled and weepy I am going to make every single person in the goddamn room on the night of my parent's 25th anniversary party. In case you can't tell from the speech, my parents are the most sickeningly in love people in the entire world.
Tell me what you think, because I would appreciate some feedback. Yes, I did purposely make the jokes as corny and groan-inducing as possible....
------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Cash & June Carter

Napoleon & Josephine

Cleopatra & Mark Antony

Wesley & Buttercup

Romeo & Juliet

Anya & Ron

When I think of the great lovers of history, Anya and Ron are right at the top. They are sweet to each other, they are kind to each other. They are constantly thinking of each other, always on each others' minds. They are best friends before they are husband and wife. They are equals, and I admire that most. Neither of them “wear the pants”. They share the pants, if you know what I mean. That's a big pair of pants!

Not only are they a beautiful couple, but they are also partners in crime, I mean, business. They spend every single day working together in a very small office and they haven't killed each other. They haven't even maimed each other a little bit! They are a great example of two people who can listen, understand, co-operate and work with each other to achieve their shared goal. We may be in the middle of a global economic crisis, but there has been no recession in their love and respect for one another.

Most of all, I would like to thank you, Mum and Dad, for showing me and Nick and Jay and Mitch, what two people who love and respect each other looks like, and what true love should be. Two people who care for each other deeply, who don't give up on each other, who share ideas and respect differences, who grow together and laugh together, who are nothing but thankful for the others' existence, who want nothing more than to be together, and who just won't keep your hands off each other.

Here's to two people who truly love each other. To Anya and Ron.

Fave Valley Things

Since I got a few people all excited about their favourite things to eat in the city I thought we could branch out to where I spend my days - The Valley! I work on Robertson St, so it's prime position for noms. I rarely go down to the mall cause it's dirty and I hate it, but there's this awesome little precinct up the top of the street where there's all the best eateries. Then there's James St on the other side of me, but since I'm not a coffee fiend, I rarely venture down there, and New Farm is just too far to walk in the summer, but now it's almost winter I could start to head down there for lunch. Here's what I love to eat!

• 'Damned' pizza from Hell Pizza - it has avocado, camembert, cashews, spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and pineapples. Holy. Moly.
• Special Fried Rice from Wok Me - if you go there enough like me, you get a club card and they always give me vouchers for free bags of prawn crackers, so I only ever pay for prawn crackers every second time I go.
• Mustard and Pickle Burger from Grill'd - I love pickles. My love for pickles will never die. In fact, I'm gonna go eat pickles right after I post this. Then I'm going to squirt mustard from the bottle straight into my mouth, cause that's how I roll baby.
• Cheap lunches at RG - I like to go for the carbonara, cause I'm running an experiment to find the best carbonara in the world, then kill the chef, like in Once Upon a Time in Mexico. The carbonara at RG comes pretty close.
• Chai latte at Coffee Club - Like I said, not much of a coffee drinker but I freaking love chai lattes.
• Seriously cheap lunches and free soft drinks from the Cafe - I don't know what it's called but it's at the top of Robertson St, on Brunswick, and it's just a little dodgy cafe where they sell hot chips with awesome gravy, and great burgers. The other day I bought a burger and the guy said I could have a free soft drink. That is service.
• Burritos and sangria from Montezumas - Who doesn't love Mexican? I go there specifically for the sangria, and the beautiful ladyboy behind the counter with the bee-hive hairdo. God...she is so beautiful. He is so beautiful. I don't know.
• Blueberry muffins from 7-11 - They're light and delicious and fluffy and they're probably a million years old but I don't care.
• Chicken avocado sandwiches from the train station cafe - they are cheap and nommy, and the lady behind the counter seems to know what you want before you even say it.
  

So what's your favourite stuff to eat in the Valley?

Fave City Things

I just got back from a day spent wandering around the city with my Rudd-bucks to burn. I got my new tattoo quoted up and made an appointment first, then walked round and round and round looking for American McGee's Alice in Wonderland but alas, it was not found. So instead I bought a bunch of books from Archives, the Gonzo DVD (about Hunter S Thompson) from JB Hifi, some earphones, some cute shoes from Big W and some emo-socks from Jay-Jays. I love my emo-socks.

Whilst we were traversing the streets we came upon this giant little girl...it was pretty terrifying.
There was a large crowd of people standing around all going "what the fuck" and I was pretty sure that at any moment laser beams would shine from her eyes, de-materializing all those in a short radius of her, so I took a few photos and skedaddled.


Anyway, I'm the kind of person who goes to restaurants and always gets the same thing. When I find something awesome that I love, I think why bother getting anything else if I already love this?
So what's your favourite meals/snacks/drinks to get in the city? Here's a few of mine:

• Curry Chicken from Suncrane in the Myer Foodcourt. It's $5.90 and it'll fill you up - fried chicken covered in curry sauce with rice and it's the best thing I've ever tasted.
• Carbonara Pasta or Chilli Chicken Pasta from O'Malleys. I think they're about $15 for these huge bowls of spiral pasta with awesomesauce. The carbonara has more bacon than you can poke a stick at.
• Free party pies, mini sausage rolls and fried chicken at Union Jacks at happy hour! 5.30 to 7.30 they bring around these platters and I mean come on...everyone loves free food, especially when downing a tasty half price beverage. It helps if you can block out the sound of "dem apple bottom jeans, boots wit da furrrr".
• Original Glazed Krispy Kremes. They seriously are the best, if you want to spend the equivalent of a bus ticket on one donut.
• Anything from EasyWay Tea - I'm still searching for my favourite drink from there, but I like that they're refreshing. I'm not much of a coffee person, or at least, when I'm walking around the city I don't like anything milky or hot.

What's your favourite city treats?
Also, does anyone have a copy of American McGee's Alice they want to sell to me?

Bitterblog

I'm a little confused and not sure how to feel about something, so I'd like some input. I would like to know why it's an accepted norm in society that dudes go to strip clubs. Perhaps I should clarify - I know guys want to look at naked chicks. I can sort of understand that single guys would want to go and spend money to sexually objectify women. If you're single, go the fuck ahead. I have no problem with strippers, in fact power to them, cause they're taking your money. You're still objectifying them, but they're the ones gaining in the end.
What I don't see is how guys in relationships would think it's okay to go to strip clubs. I could be just an extremely jealous and possessive person* but...if you've got me at home, and I'm naked, and I'm free and you actually get to touch me...what the FUCK are you doing in a strip club? Please, someone enlighten me?
I don't feel that this applies to burlesque shows though. I would gladly go to a burlesque show any day of the week, it's art, it's a performance. I guess that what I hate is the mindset of guys going to a strip club (or a burlesque show) - you're not going to appreciate someone as a person, you're going to stare at boobs and revel in your caveman ideal.

How about you take all the time you spend appreciating strippers and those hours you spend watching porn and invest it in appreciating MY female form. It's called FOREPLAY GODDAMIT.
I'm allowed to watch hours of porn cause I have more than one 'go' in me.



And in case you're one of those people who get all of your sexual knowledge from porn, watch this, then try again. And again. And again. Practice makes perfect.



The French call orgasms le petit mort - the little death. Each orgasm brings your soul a little closer to Hades! So please...kill me.

I hope you enjoyed this blog, brought to you by my sexual frustration. Thanks for reading Mum!

The Tools

When we were little, my older brother and I both had severe asthma, sort of a shared sickness for us. For some reason we were also constantly severely hurting ourselves, add that to the asthma and we spent many many days, nights, weeks, weekends sitting inside our cosy house making cars out of recycled cereal boxes and toilet paper rolls. For some reason I remember it was always raining. I guess this didn't help our asthma too much.

We would have attacks pretty frequently, the way I remember it, and Mum would bring out The Tools.

We had The Inhaler - everyone has an inhaler. But because we were little and it tasted so bad, we had to have the Puffer. I remember it would sit there on the shelf ominously, and we had to be taught to assemble it. We had to wait our turn to be old enough to use the Inhaler on its own.

Sometimes things would get bad enough to use The Mask and you would sit there for ten minutes sounding like Darth Vader.
But you knew it was serious when mum would break out The Machine. You can't sleep for coughing, all the other tools had failed you, now it's time for The Machine. The Machine lurked in the corner doing whatever it is Machines do, darkly, loudly, humidifying.
Every night before bed she'd spread Vicks or Rawleighs all over our chests, then turn on The Machine and you would drift off to the humming emanating from the corner, trying to breathe.

I'm glad it's not so hard to breathe properly these days. The Tools still terrify me.

Dear World

I would just like to let you know that I have the greatest boyfriend in the entire world, and all your lame boyfriends had better step up their game.
He just rang to let me know he'll be over soon...with chocolate.
Last night when I had cramps that were threatening to tear me in half, he massaged my stomach for an hour, and when that calmed me down, he scratched my head till I fell asleep in his lap.
This morning when I was trying to get up for work, he started scratching my head in his sleep and wouldn't let go of me.
Never underestimate the power of a good head-scratch. It can set all your troubles right.
Sometimes he yells in his sleep, and he ALWAYS has an angry face on when he's dreaming. It's adorable.
He always brings the awesome with new DVD's to watch because he can't stop buying them. Now I'm hooked on Star Trek.
He eats entire tubs of ice cream in one go and doesn't get fat. Instead he gets muscles. This is probably the most unfair thing I have ever heard of.
When I asked him to find a cute hat for me on ebay, he found me this, which I really do think would suit me:


He won't let me take photos of him but whenever I sneak one in, he looks so goddamn handsome I wish I could take millions more.
I don't mind that I spend my entire days just thinking about how I get to fall asleep with him later. Yes, sometimes I count the hours.
The best thing about my boyfriend is that he always sleeps on the side closest to the door, so when intruders or ghosts come in, he's first to die.

I haven't blogged lately because I've been so sick all I can do is sleep, throw up, writhe in pain or blow my nose and I pretty much don't want to do anything more complex than play Peggle. Boing. Boing. Boing. Boing. Ultra Extreme Fever!
But I'm better now, and I've got some fucking things to say. When I think of them. Be back later with actual content.

My phobia

I think it all started when I was little. You know you start to read those cool picture books about space, and about the earth and the earth's core. You find out about earthquakes and tornadoes and natural disasters and how the earth is constantly moving. Moving around the sun, which is so much bigger than we can imagine, and that there are bigger suns out there, giant burning balls of gas, just burning in space. And how the stars we see today have actually already burned out because they're so far away we're seeing them in the past or some shit, I don't fucking know.
And I realised how incredibly small and insignificant I was in comparison to this entire universe of things constantly shifting and changing and breaking up and belching forth fire.
Ever since that moment, and most frequently when I'm lying in bed in the massive dark, I experience pretty terrifying moments that are a mixture of agoraphobia and claustrophobia. I feel like the weight of this entire universe full of matter is crushing my insignificance out of existence, making me smaller and smaller into a tiny dot that will not even implode but just simply cease to be. I have to take deep breaths, spread my arms really wide around me and think about something else.
When my eyes are closed, I start out seeing most frequently the letter A and it starts out normal-sized, but the more I stare at it the larger it becomes until it hurts my brain to think about how gigantic it has become, and how it's larger than me. It's pushing through the space in my head and my eyes. I have to stop and open my eyes and stare at something different for a while.
I'm terrified of space. And I'm terrified of no space. I think about these things more often than I let on. If you ever see me and I look worried, this is probably why.

And that's my piece.

Hey Jerks

Newsflash Jerks:
Girls have body hair. All humans have body hair. On some girls, such as myself, body hair tends to be extremely dark. I was born with a head of black hair. I am hairy. I have dark hair on my upper lip.
This in no way entitles you to comment on my "moustache". How unfortunate for you that I really don't care enough about other people's opinions on the amount of body hair girls should have, that I don't wax it off and isn't it sad that for that fact, you have to stare at it. You poor, poor creature. I will run to the salon straight away to get that hair ripped out of my skin JUST FOR YOU.
Here is something that is not so much of a secret if you looked at me close enough: I shave my arms, and have since I was about 14. I remember the day I started doing it, I took my jumper off at school because winter was moving into spring, and one of my friends (a male) said "woah, your arms are hairier than mine. You're a gorilla". So I started shaving my arms and I sort of never stopped. I wish I could stop, because I like to think that I don't care anymore, but I know that I do, and I know that I would always be hiding my arms, and wearing long sleeves. Because people are fucking jerks.
I can't even count the amount of times that guys (and yes, it's only EVER guys) have "joked" to me about having a moustache. Of course I'm going to find you belittling me hilarious! That's such a good one, coming from a perfect specimen of beauty such as yourself!

So dudes, please stop watching your air-brushed, waxed, oiled fake porn and take a look at how beautiful the REAL girls around you are. Because you're completely missing them. And after that take a long hard look in the mirror.

DIY

I've been trolling through online DIY communities all today, cause sometimes I go through these do-it-yourself phases where I just wanna make stuff and mod stuff and create stuff. For the most part, I don't have the right tools and everything I make I end up throwing out. Also everything I see instructions for that looks AWESOME, I can't even do anyway because I'm renting and I fear for touching the walls in case I might put a speck of dust on them.
So here's what I 'created' today that took pretty much no effort, and was created just because I went through a bunch of crap in cupboard to throw it all out, and thought I should do something with this.

Ta daaa!

It is a plastic card holder that used to contain a deck of stripper-cards, which I've coated in leopard-print felt and stuck a bowling picture on the inside for extra rockabilly-ness. I'll be trialling it as my new wallet for a while, it's the perfect size for all my cards and I can just chuck in my coins and fold the paper moneyz, not that I ever have any of that. Was thinking about adding a small keyring hook to it so I can keep all important stuff there, but I don't think it'll work. I have far too many important things on my keyring that I'm not willing to part with in the interests of simplicity. Which is what this is all about.


Here are a couple of my favourite DIY sites and some awesome projects that I would love to undertake at some point.

• Instructables is a pretty huge community with millions of instructions for excellent projects, like home, garden, arts, crafts, tech, science, sports, whatever. There's also an awesome offbeat section where there is all kinds of weird crap like crazy hangover cures, medieval gauntlets and a whole bunch of steampunk.
• My all time favourite instructable would probably be the Steampunk Finger Stylus, for DS, phones, etc. It looks suprisingly easy to make, though that fact hasn't induced me to make it yet. One day stylus, one day.
• Lifehacker is one of the Gawker media blogs, and it's all about DIY home projects, some tech, a lot of green/environment friendly stuff.
• greenUPGRADER is, as you would imagine, all about going green in your home, with heaps of great recycling projects.
• Then there's Craftzine which is a huge craft community, sharing every type of craft project you can imagine. I haven't visited there much, but it's good for a scroll through every now and then.
• PocketMod is a site where you can drop and drag templates like calendars, graph-lines, to-do lists, blank note pages. You create your own little notepad, print it out, fold it up, and it's small enough to fit in your wallet (or card holder). I love using these things.
  
• Here's a little writeup on how to make butter, which I'm definitely going to give a go because I go through butter like nobody's business.
• Another one I want to try now that I'm living below the poverty line, 10 Recipes for Homemade Laundry Soaps.
• And one that will come in extremely handy to get rid of the hangovers induced by cheap goon, considering that's what I'll be buying to drink away my money worries, Homemade Alka Seltzer!

Dear Mum and Dad...please buy me a toolkit for my birthday, kthxbye.

Added Bonus: Here's a spice rack I made a while ago...

World Autism Awareness Day

...Was yesterday, sorry for missing it but I'd like to post about it anyway.

Visit the World Autism Awareness Day site here and if you don't know what autism is, well head on over to the wikipedia article for only the briefest of understandings you can get.

I've been holding off on writing anything about this because I honestly don't and probably never will understand autism, and it's kind of personal. My boyfriend has Asperger Syndrome, which is on the autism spectrum. I've always felt weird talking about it with him because I don't want to be singling him out, or making him feel different. But I guess the fact is, our brains work differently, and I've always been a mixture of fascinated by how he thinks and upset that we can't understand each other in the way that I think of understanding.

From wikipedia:
"...people with AS therefore show significant difficulties in social interaction and restricted, stereotyped patterns of behavior and interests. AS differs from other ASDs by its relative preservation of linguistic and cognitive development. Although not mentioned in standard diagnostic criteria, physical clumsiness and atypical use of language are frequently reported."

"The lack of demonstrated empathy is possibly the most dysfunctional aspect of Asperger syndrome. Individuals with AS experience difficulties in basic elements of social interaction, which may include a failure to develop friendships or to seek shared enjoyments or achievements with others (for example, showing others objects of interest), a lack of social or emotional reciprocity, and impaired nonverbal behaviours in areas such as eye contact, facial expression, posture, and gesture"

Have a read of the wikipedia article because I'm going to have a hard time explaining it properly without feeling like I'm listing all the things I see my boyfriend doing because really, I have no idea what he does or thinks. So I'd most likely be totally wrong. Here's a part from the article which might give you an understanding of what it's like to talk to someone with AS:

"Speech may convey a sense of incoherence; the conversational style often includes monologues about topics that bore the listener, fails to provide context for comments, or fails to suppress internal thoughts. Individuals with AS may fail to monitor whether the listener is interested or engaged in the conversation. The speaker's conclusion or point may never be made, and attempts by the listener to elaborate on the speech's content or logic, or to shift to related topics, are often unsuccessful"

My boyfriend gets obsessed with things, and it'll usually get pretty intense, and go in phases, like for a few months all he did was buy Alien figurines and we'd watch the Alien movies, then it was all Terminator. He's really into film, and I'll often be on the receiving end of a monologue about camera lenses or setting up a scene. He collects DVD's obsessively and could probably start a video store with his collection. Wiki says: "Although these special interests may change from time to time, they typically become more unusual and narrowly focused, and often dominate social interaction so much that the entire family may become immersed."

I think the hardest part is that he's not very good at comforting me when I am upset, or realising that it's his fault that I'm upset. I get so annoyed sometimes because I'm not sure whether he really can't understand why I'm upset, or if he's just being an asshole. Sometimes I think maybe there's something wrong with me, why can't I feel nothing, why do I have to feel the way I do? Sometimes I want to just sit and talk with him for hours, but he is completely, entirely focused on something else and I can't even get into his peripheral view. Sometimes when we do talk, it feels like he completely ignores every thing I say, or if I try to argue a point, he tells me he doesn't want to talk about something if I'm going to get angry. We have extremely different viewpoints to begin with, and most of the time I feel very alone, and kind of worthless. He considers himself superior to a lot of people.

I don't really know where I was planning to go with this, except to say that it is hard. I've joined forums for people who have partners with AS, because I thought maybe they could tell me how they cope, and give me more understanding. What I found was actually extremely depressing, hundreds of unhappy wives planning to leave their relationships, mostly older women who have no way of caring for themselves, so they're stuck while they plan an "escape". There are a few good communities of people whose relationships are still together and strong, but there's really no rules, no list of things you can do to be happy, so I stopped visiting the sites. And I just stopped thinking about it. He now lives back at his old house, which is just around the corner from me, and we still see each other every day, and this has all reminded me how grateful I am that I know him. He's an awesome person. And that's all I have to say about that.

Here is a video I found a few months ago by an autistic woman (tried to embed but the linky didn't work). The first few minutes she is shaking doorknobs, moaning, rattling things, etc and the second half of the video is her explaining (through a voice synth) how she is interacting with her environment, and what she is thinking. It's pretty fascinating. Anyway...happy Friday!

The Wisdom of T-Rex

Wherein dinosaurs explain the concept of the Male Gaze.
(clicky to open properly)



What is the Male Gaze?

No-Hump Day

I've been pretty sick lately, puking constantly and it really hurts, but now I have magnificent abs. So while I've been sick and concentrating all my will power on NOT blowing chunks, I've mostly been living on the internet, reading, twittering, more reading, playing games. I'm not at all coherent lately so here's some stuff I've read/thought/talked about with people. A MISHMASH, IF YOU WILL.

Tiger Beatdown is my new favourite blog that makes me feel so much better to read because it's fucking venomous. Read this and this post about the terrifying Judd Apatow/Seth Rogen phenomenon that is sweeping your television screens and damaging your brains. Actually, reading those articles made me truly upset, especially one which I will quote now, which is a conversation between the two bloggers about ahem "man-children":

"KELLY: YES. And suddenly I flashed-forward into my future, and I was eight months pregnant, and my feet hurt, and I was throwing up a lot, and my boyfriend was wondering why I hadn't made him a sandwich. And then I had kids, and I was still the primary income-earner - I would, in fact, be bringing home the bacon, and frying it up in a pan, because my boyfriend wouldn't cook - and after I'd finished making dinner I would come in and find that my boyfriend and my children had been eating Pixie Stix and reading comic books and they weren't hungry. I would be doing everything for him, forever, while he got to have fun. And then it was just over. I had to get out."

I've had that moment, and it was a dizzying, horrifying, brutal moment of clarity that all the drugs in the world cannot push out of my mind. I AM AFRAID OF COMMITMENT. There. I said it. I am afraid of relationships, and I am terrified of marriage. I have been reading a collection of short stories by Charlotte Perkins Gilman lately. They are all what I think I would call "subtly feminist" 1800s-society lady tales of subordination and being shut up in an attic to recover from The Hysteria and it all FREAKS ME OUT, that one day, if I just shut my eyes and let myself keep drifting on, I'll be the quiet wife in the kitchen, with my children doing things behind my back because I'm "the angry Mum" cause I don't let them do what Dad does, and one day I'll wake up and I'll go out to make their lunches for school like an automaton and I won't even realise that I am dead inside, cause I'll be, you know, dead.

Excuse my freak out. They happen sometimes.

On another note, have you ever thought about the quandary of asking someone to repeat themselves? I HATE asking someone to repeat themselves, because I know how frustrating it is to have to repeat yourself, especially after you've told a perfect joke, with perfect pitch and timing. It's just that the bar you're in is really loud, and your friend didn't quite hear you. So most of the time I just smile and nod, which sometimes turns out to be worse, because you've either hurt the person's feelings by not guffawing at their hilarity, or they'll follow themselves up with a question. "Oh so how much did you pay for them?" And then it seems like you've been indifferent to the conversation all along. But I wasn't, I swear, just drunk.

I just want to let people know about Seinfeld's Law: Chicks don't eat on dates. I know it's not true for everyone, but it's definitely true for me. I can't do it. I can barely eat lunch with friends. It's a mixture of not being comfortable pigging out in front of someone else, and being too focused on first impressions/talking to the other person/looking dainty that I can't just chow down and enjoy myself. So I'm sorry if I told you that we should go to that awesome Chinese place, and we ended up getting sausage rolls. I'm really incapable of eating in front of people.

My housemate and I are throwing a party, and we've begun to freak out and encounter all those problems you get with social circles and people you don't like within them. I hate to seem all elitist by not inviting certain people to my party, but basically, that's what it is, MY party, at MY house. What irritates me lately is the prevalence of this kind of thinking that, well, I know other people who are going to the party, so I'm kind of invited by proxy, right?
The other people I don't invite to my parties are the ones who stay the night. Wait, that's being unfair, you say. I understand that there will always be a few who will stay the night, and out of my friends, there are a certain few who know that they are more than welcome to stay the night. I have beef with the ones who are barely my acquaintance, and turn up bags in hand without even asking if it was okay for them to stay the night. They're expecting a bed from you, and the next morning, they have a shower, use your expensive shampoo and fluffy towels, expect a feed, and don't leave until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?! WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN MY HOUSE?! I would just like to extend thanks to my friends for not being like my neighbour's friends, starting loud bogan fights, smashing glasses in the pool area, or listening to trance.

This all being said, I'm actually a pretty happy camper lately. And right now I am transmitting mind-hugs to you all. Much love.

My biggest weakness

Kryptonite.

Not really, I can stand a bit of Kryptonite, but I'm giving away my biggest weakness here, for free, just because I love when it happens so much. Are you ready?

"Tashy".
When people call me Tashy, I melt, I am at their whim, I will automatically do whatever they are asking me to do, I will go out and kill that giant robot, I will give you my last cookie, of course I will kneel at your feet. It really works too, so next time you see me, give it a try.

Sorry, it's only a quick one today. I'm off work sick, and going to the doctor's tomorrow cause I keep throwing up. Yesterday I thought it was a hangover, but today I'm continuing to hurl, and now I can't hear anything, and life sucks so much sometimes, I swear.

The Path

It's been a couple of days since I blogged, so here I am again, in the flesh, alive. My mum's been visiting from Townsville and I've been busy for once. You know, eating fancy dinners, going shopping, staying at her fancy hotel, living the high life. This evening we're just sitting around until we head over to Bar Eleven-17 at Cannon Hill for my cousin's 21st party. It just occurred to me that I look way too sexy for a family event. I never dress up this good to go out with my friends. What is wrong with me?

I've recently been playing this awesome game called The Path. It's a twist on Little Red Riding Hood, you play as one of 6 girls and the only instruction you have in the game is to Go to Grandmother's House and Follow the Path. But if you do that, you lose. So you have to wander off the path into the woods where you come across...things.
I played it for about two hours today before I decided to find out if there was a purpose to it. Turns out there is no real way to win. Playing the game isn't about collecting things, or finding the end. It's about immersing yourself in this world, and forming theories of your own on what all the encounters mean. It's a beautiful piece of quiet-horror interactive art, the soundtrack is amazing and the design is absolutely beautiful. If you have Steam, you can get it there, otherwise check out Tale-of-Tales.com. Steam's also having a big sale on indie games at the moment so get into it. Here's a clip from SteamLog to show you what The Path is like. Enjoy.

Ada Lovelace Day

Ada Lovelace Day is...

an international day of blogging to draw attention to women excelling in technology. Women's contributions often go unacknowledged, their innovations seldom mentioned, their faces rarely recognised. We want you to tell the world about these unsung heroines. Whatever she does, whether she is a sysadmin or a tech entrepreneur, a programmer or a designer, developing software or hardware, a tech journalist or a tech consultant, we want to celebrate her achievements.

I am the LEAST prepared blogger in the entire world. I had planned on emailing a woman I saw at a panel about women in gaming a while ago, and I'd even written up the draft email but for some reason I just never sent it. So instead, I'm going to be extremely lazy and have put together a mashup of my favourite blogs and a couple of articles about women in tech. If you don't click through to links, then your best bet is to just leave now. Get ready for GRATUITOUS LINKAGE!!!

I shall begin with my favourite blog of all time, Jezebel. It deals up daily news, celebrity, sex, fashion, etc all with a bit of a feminist twist. It's also got a brilliant community of hilarious wimmen.
Now some love for my favourite blogger, Violet Blue. As it says on her front page, she is an "author, sex educator, blogger, podcaster, GETV reporter, The San Francisco Chronicle's sex columnist, robotic artist, and a Forbes Web Celeb." I head over to her blog Tiny Nibbles for all the erotica I could ever want.
ShinyShiny.tv is the pinkest website I've ever seen - it's updated daily with all the newest gadgets coming out on the market - phones, cameras, notebooks, game consoles and even vibrators.
Here's two new ones that I've just found recently - Emily Chang and GameGirl.com. Emily is an award-winning web designer and my favourite part of her site is the eHub which is a constantly updated list of web applications. GameGirl is like it sounds, a blog focused on all things gaming, written by girls, definitely worth a look.
Girl Geek Dinners plans meetups of girl bloggers in pubs and restaurants to share their love of all things geeky and tech.
Here's a cool article on wikipedia about women in computing with a timeline of women who made advances in technology.
I've posted it before but I'm posting again this post by a blogger named Kate Harding about cyberbullying and stalking.

These are a little off topic but I've been lurking around sci-fi blog i09.com all day and I looked up all the best posts regarding women.
What Chicks Don't Like About Science Fiction
Could You Live In A World Without Women?
Why All Female Superheroes Look The Same
and New Doctor Who Should Be Female, Say Female Scientists

And finally, one of my favourite songs, kind of a one-hit wonder from a band called White Town.
This is from their album "Women in Technology" and the song is called Your Woman. I'm sure you've heard it on Rage before at 2am. Enjoy!

I hate bikies

So it turns out that my plane was delayed on the tarmac yesterday for about 20 minutes because there was a BIKIE TURF WAR in Sydney terminal where one man was beaten to death. Honestly, this must have happened just as I was boarding the plane.

Here's a big article from smh.com.au called Behind Sydney's Bikie Bloodshed.

How the hell do these people exist? They ride bikes. This does not entitle them to own areas of land. I know it's all to do with drugs, etc but Jesus Christ, what happened to people who just share a love of motorbikes? Bikies are not cool. And while we're at it, Chopper Read is not cool. Stop thinking he is. Go read a book that ISN'T his, stop giving him money. Shut up. Stop killing people and delaying my flight.

Sydneytimes

Here's a little of what my diary would look like if I had bothered to write one while I was in Sydney.

Thursday: Read Pickman's Model and listened to Dresden Dolls on the plane down to Sydney. Lovecraft rules. Arrive at airport, Dad's waiting for me, take the double decker train back to hotel on York St. Amazed at double decker train. Walk through the streets to hotel in a daze because everything is so goddamn big. Drop bags at hotel, say hi to Mum and Mitch, we all go for a walk down to Darling Harbour. Everything is just like out of Looking for Alibrandi. We catch the monorail (MONORAIL!!!) back into the city, and walk through the city to our hotel. Sensory overload from gigantic-hugeness. Go to meet my internet friend Chris. We have a few drinks at one place, then go to Oxford St and have more. His friends start showing up, we drink more. Go to some free wanky pretentious music shows, drink more. More alcohol.

Friday: Throw up on the platform at Town Hall station, almost faint. I own it now. Have a shower, eat a piece of bread and go with family to Centrepoint Tower. Sit on the ledge looking down at the ants/humans below me and wonder what would happen if the tower split in half, and we all plummeted to the ground. Went into this stupid Oztrek thing that you actually had to pay money for, and was assaulted with the stereotype that Australians are dumb, dumb, dumb. Felt significantly dumber afterwards. Walked around and around looking for a shop that I may want to purchase things from. When I find one, realise I have no money, and trudge sullenly back to the hotel. Dad and I go grocery/booze shopping. That night, I eat chilli octopus. Suprisingly awesome.

Saturday: Wake up super late, get ready and follow family out to Darling Harbour where Mum and Mitch are part of a Capoeira demonstration. It's going on for five hours. Dad and I walk around and around and around, debating what to do, until we finally decide on just drinking beer. Drink beer. Oh, also, we go to the Chinese Garden, which was really gorgeous. Koi are awesome and evil and following me. Go back to capoeira. Watch. Walk off to drink more beer. Extremely sunburnt and sweaty and disgusting, considering all I've eaten is chips. Go home and crash. Night time, family goes off to some capoeira party in Bondi which I skip out to sit by myself at the hotel chatting on MSN to friends about how much I hate Sydney. I hate Sydney.

Sunday: Wake up super late again, chuck on some clothes and catch the monorail to go see the Star Wars exhibit at the Powerhouse Museum. Awesome, except can't move because of the sea of children smaller than my knees, and the army of prams. What the hell are these kids doing here? Take a lot of photos, get really annoyed and swear off procreating for good. Catch the monorail back to my hotel, grab my bags, off to airport. Eat a Krispy Kreme, then sit for an hour reading Lovecraft waiting for my plane. Get on the plane, the guy sitting next to me orders "3 rum and cokes and a cappucino". Shit.

I've uploaded a bunch of photos that you can check out here, and shall be putting up some awesome videos of the capoeira people doing their moves, so stay tuned.

Hump Day

Hey all, just going to post some things I found today that I liked. I'm a bit busy, packing to go to Sydney in the morning for 4 days - my parents and little brother are down there at the moment for a Capoeira festival and I'm joining them. There'll be plenty of pics and stories when I get back, but in the meantime you can follow me on twitter cause I'm kind of addicted to it now.
I spent a lot of time just surfing and slacking off today, and here's some things that I really loved...

This opinion article by Katrina Fox titled "Tick a box: male, female, unspecified" about how the Australian Human Rights Commission has a report on filling out legal documents for those who do not identify with a specific gender. I really love the idea. I've been thinking a lot lately about gender and androgyny and I completely admit that I don't understand it, but I guess that's why it's playing on my mind. Also, I am extremely in love with Tilda Swinton.

Those eyes, they are sucking my soul...

One I found a while ago but keeps popping up in conversation lately, a documentary about Objectum Sexuals titled Married to the Eiffel Tower.

Check out this awesome video of the Sydney Mardi Gras by Keith Loutit - it's amazing, it's actually hundreds of photographs spliced together that make everything look like stop-motion miniatures, really amazing stuff.

Mardi Gras from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.

Anyway, that's all for today, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!

Thx

By the way...I just want to say thank you so so much to the people who ARE helping me right now, because I am extremely fucked up inside over this. Sometimes I wish I could break my leg to have an excuse to stay home every day, and I wish it would rain constantly and I could just listen to the Smiths and never do anything again....but you guys remind me there's a reason to just keep getting up every day.

Thank you.

Here's a kitten.

Fuck Monday

I'm having a really fucking hard time lately. I didn't sleep last night. Looking out the window periodically to see the sky becoming lighter makes me so upset. I broke up with my boyfriend last week, he has moved out of the house, and I still feel like it was the worst idea ever. Because I still love him so fucking much and I want to be with him all the time, but he doesn't feel the same about me. I guess you can call me an insane bitch, or high maintenance, or a harpy, or the crazy girlfriend like I know all his friends do, but I'm not apologising for expecting to be treated equally. Nutri-Grain is so fucking wrong. You do NOT get out what you put in. Sometimes you get nothing at all. And I can't deal with that anymore. I know you're reading this, and it's not for you, it's just because I wanted to get this out of my head.

A lot of people I know communicate to their "friends" through trading insults. I refuse to deign someone who hides their true feelings behind insults, with a response. If you want to be my friend, treat me as you would want to be treated, and I'll respond in kind. If you want to tell me constantly how terrible of a human being I am, how I'm just a "ball and chain", then you can't exactly expect me to continue being your friend for much longer.

There's a theory that you only have enough space in your life, enough memory, enough time, for 150 people. Some people have less. I feel like everywhere I turn, everyone I've ever wanted to be around, already has their full quota of people, and I'm not allowed in.

Well...fuck you all. I'm going to Vegas.

B-I-T-N-I-S

I may not be the most professional receptionist there is, but I'm kind of obsessive compulsive about portraying a professional manner towards clients. Perhaps clients feel differently towards us, as they're the ones paying us and can afford to do away with professionalism?
In my company I'm the lowliest staff member, but I'm also the first point of contact before you can get through to speaking to an engineer or manager. Because it's a given that all the engineers and managers are constantly busy, I will most likely 'lie' to you and say they are unable to take your call. If my company were a castle, I'd be the moat. If you are rude to me, you will drown in the mire.
I answer the phone as such: "XYZ Company, Zombietron speaking". Here is the part that most people never learnt. It's now your turn to say your name, what company you belong to, the general outline of what you need and who you wish to speak to. Was that so hard?
An appropriate response to "hello" is not "Bob please, now". Speaking monosyllabically is not going to get you very far. Telling me how urgent your problem is and how you need to be put through RIGHT NOW will not get you very far either. I can assess how urgent your problem is. Yelling at me because you made a mistake will not get you any assistance. Asking me if I am satisfied with my phone plan will not get you very far either.

The majority of my day is spent checking emails. I keep my Outlook open constantly, and not only do I check my own inbox, but most other staff member's as well. I'm basically a personal assistant to everyone, if that makes sense. As such, I have a few handy tips for how to compose a business email correctly.

• Use capital letters. And punctuation. And proper spelling. Jesus fucking Christ.
• Ensure you have an email signature. It's not rocket science. Usually, it's set up for you when you start working for a company.
• Learn the difference between a Subject line and a Message field. No really. This happens more often than you think.
• If someone sends you an email, generally the next step is to actually reply. I know that you received it.
• Start with Hello, end with Goodbye, Thank you, Cheers, ANYTHING. It's not hard.
• Keep in mind that text is not a great conveyor of emotions. So keep it bland and straight. I find that a lot of people's emails come across as extremely rude, mean, haughty and well, repulsive, when they were probably going for sarcasm. Or they could just be assholes.

These things can be incorporated into outside-work life too, to make interactions with people a little bit more polite and less straining. I guess the bottom line is, I don't want to be here as much as you, so let's make this all as painless as possible please?

Oh..I've joined Twitter. Mostly so a friend of mine and I can trade inane statements. Like about airplane food and those things on the end of your shoelaces. What is the deal? So if you wish, follow me.

Dear Gods of Fashion

Please banish skinny jeans to the realm of otherness.

They do not belong in this world, and they deceptively look like normal pants when I take them off the rack to purchase. Yes, I should be admonished for not trying pants on before I buy, and I repent. I just hate getting naked behind a curtain. And taking off my shoes.

One exception: Noel Fielding may continue to wear his drainpipes.

Please make all black items of clothing not fade in the wash.

Please stop making all my shirt side-seams twist around me. My torso does not twist sideways.

Please send to me a pair of jeans that fit perfectly without requiring taking up, or a belt.

Please stop making every women's shirt with stupid puffy shoulders and sleeves. It looks so dumb.

Please make capes fashionable again. Same goes for crochet dresses.

Please stop putting sequins and jewels on every item of clothing in Valleygirl. I'm not handwashing a fucking $10 shirt.

Please stop making women's shoes so goddamn uncomfortable. Please make flat-heeled knee-high boots more available to me.

Please make women's 'standard' sizes to fit normal people again. Not pre-pubescent twelve-year-olds. They are not women yet. I am a woman. And I am far from plus-size, so please don't try to tell me that I am.

Describe me

Because I love hearing about myself. Who doesn't?
Because my brother told me today:

"I miss you too Tashy...your fuzzy hair...your muffin-eating habits...your stupid dresses....the way you take insults like a sponge".

Yep. That's me exactly. Your turn!!

International Women's Day

International Women's Day was yesterday. I went in a fun run at Southbank that raised money for Chicks in Pink charity. It was 5kms long winding through the city and Botanic Gardens, which I'm sure would have been a really wonderful walk if it weren't for the fact that I was nursing a hangover of epic proportions, and with every step I had to fight to hold down my stomach which wanted to leap from its resting place up through my oesophagus and out, onto the ground in front of me.

It was neither fun, nor did I run. A more apt name would be Unpleasant Stroll. For charity.

I wanted to write something more about International Women's Day but then this morning I read this article about what the Vatican thinks of women and I pretty much just lost it. And then I remembered what my boyfriend said when I told him it was International Women's Day.

"Why don't men get a day?"

Because sweety, when you live in a patriarchy, EVERY DAY is Men's Day.

Happy International Women's Day for yesterday ladies. I hope you weren't as hungover as I was.

Wondering what her head would look like on a stick

The silicone chip inside her head gets switched to overload and nobody's gonna go to school today she's gonna make them stay at home. Daddy doesn't understand it, he always said she was good as gold. And he can see no reasons cause there are no reasons what reason do you need to be told?

I. really. don't. like. Mondays.

Sometimes I scare myself with the terrible things I think up inside my head. Well...that's not true. I'm not scared.
I was upset the other day to find that one of my old favourite websites - crimelibrary.com - had been changed into something WEIRD and DIFFERENT. What used to be a great website to while away the hours reading about serial killers is now something gaudy and tabloidy where the most-searched for articles on the front page are "Cheerleaders Gone Wild" and "Sordid Lesbian Affair Killer". Pah. The old articles are still there - but what has happened to murderers? They have changed with the culture where violence has become sexualised. Now, anyone can be a killer, big deal, you get angry, you get passionate, you take out a gun and shoot someone, then your lawyer gets you off on an insanity plea. Real original.

Where have the Ed Geins, Jeffrey Dahmers and Ted Bundys gone? I remember not sleeping after I first read each of their stories, just lying there trying to imagine how it was even possible for a person to continue doing the things they did, how can a brain just snap like that? I'm so fascinated by it, I've read their stories over and over again. I have books where the same crimes are thrashed out in the same words, yet I can't stop reading. They were the real walking nightmares, setting the bar high for human depravity. They truly strike fear into your heart.

I'm not frightened by cheerleaders gone wild. Come back Crime Library. Go away glitzy Crime TV.


Psycho killer...qu'est-ce que c'est......

coffee dreams

The cup is warm on my hands. I cradle it and smell the burnt aroma. The taste is bitter and it reminds me of her. Always her. Soul as black as the devil and as sweet as a stolen kiss. All the kisses she stole from me...I take another sip.
One more cup of coffee for the road.
One more cup of coffee before I go to the valley below.

Can't get you out of my head.

Sexsexsexsex

So...SEXPO! It was GREAT! Mum, please stop reading now. If you want.

I got all dolled up after work, went to meet my friends for some drinks beforehand and then we headed in. As you enter, sexy chicks in very few clothes and large muscled men also in very few clothes hand you a free DVD of porn and a magazine, so if you buy nothing else, at least you'll come away with something. I haven't watched/read either yet, but my friend Sharnee says it's just standard low-production-value girl-on-girl bore, so I might give it a miss. Anyone want some free porn?

Sexpo was held at the Southbank Convention Centre, so obviously it's freaking huge. To the left is a big stage and a few grandstand type seats surrounding it where they had strippers doing shows and whatnot - I didn't get much of a chance to watch, too many people packed in. To the right of the room at the far end there was a beach volleyball set up, the 'Laporium' lapdance area and also a little cordoned off room where a friend of mine played strip poker. And in the middle of all this were the STORES!
I would like to say "I saw things there I have never seen before"....but I'd be lying to you, because I've seen a lot. I didn't get to take any photos inside the event, sorry guys, but here's a photo of the stash I came away with, and me looking very happy with it.

Click to enlarge ;)

A lot of the stores had really great "showbag" deals - most for under $50. That's what I ended up purchasing - it contained that long purple vibrator to the right which is honestly the coolest thing I've ever seen...or used (it's self-penetrating), a vibrating cock ring, another cockring with a bullet and remote control, a pack of batteries, a squirt gun in the shape of a penis, a penis keyring, a cum towel and some fuzzy handcuffs - all for $50. Total bargain. The vibrator alone would usually cost something like $80 I'd say.
Also in the picture is the purple Rock Chick in the bottom left corner - I've been wanting one of these for AGES and yes, it's as good as they say. That cost me $100. You can get them on femplay.com for $116.95 - quick hit, femplay is actually quite a cheap Australian site with great (discreet) fast postage, you always get a free gift, and if you write a review for one of their toys like I did, you get a 10% discount next time you order!
The other two things I bought were that big metal pole with restraints on either side which I thought was way too cool to pass up - that was $30. And also just that blue bottle of toy cleaner (essential). So...I'm...well stocked for now.

As for the rest of the stores, there was a lot of the same thing around - lots of stores with same ol' cute costumes, LOTS of vibrators, lube everywhere. There was a huge range of prices vibrators though, everything from bargain- bin $10 ones all the way up to $300 chiq ones. I think it was Four Seasons that had a stall with just condoms, and strangely they didn't have much of a range from what I could see. Then there were the hardcore stores where you just stared open-mouthed at the giant black double-enders or the massive whips and things that you only see in your sexy sexy nightmares. Also, Pricasso was there, painting pictures with his ween.

The store that I couldn't stay away from though was called Merci Toys, and I've got a catalogue here that's so colourful and pretty and I wish you could see, but I just went to their website and it's entirely in Japanese. So if you can read Japanese or just wanna look at pretty pictures go HERE to check out their toys, my favourite of which seems to be a rip off of the fabled Hitachi Magic Wand. Now...I've never used one...but it's legendary. And Merci's rip off named the Fairy was pretty amazing. That's all I have to say about that.

Last but not least I'd like to round this post out by saying that I've become a voting member of the Australian Sex Party - Australia's newest political party. They are "for personal freedoms and sexual rights". You can have a read of their policies here, but definitely check out their whole site, it's pretty interesting. I know it's a fringe party at the moment but...I like it, hopefully it will grow to something awesome. And I got a free shirt that says I Love Sex. And seriously, who doesn't?

A simple rule

I was listening to a whole bunch of old music I haven't listened to in a long time...one of the songs being I'm Not In Love by 10cc. I guess I had never really listened to the lyrics before, because to me it was always a depressing, slow song to listen to when you feel jilted. Not so!

This song is all about a guy who makes a booty call to his ex girlfriend and forgets the One Simple Rule of booty calls. When one makes a booty call, one no longer has any rights to seem Not-Desperate. People seem to forget - relationships break up for a reason.

I'm not in love, so don't forget it
Its just a silly phase I'm going through
And just because I call you up
Dont get me wrong, dont think youve got it made.
Im not in love, no no!
Its because ...
I like to see you, but then again
That doesn't mean you mean that much to me
So if I call you, don't make a fuss
Don't tell your friends about the two of us
I'm not in love, no no!
It's because ...

Pshh what a douchebag! Calm, Cool, Collected = Not You.
Yeah yeah yeah I'm sure he's lying about it all to make himself feel better.
Sounds to me like he's one big emosogynist. My love for this song is now tainted.
In other news, how hot is Damon Albarn (see 0:35!).

TGIF

Dudes it is Friday and I am pumped. We are heading to Sexpo tonight and I have my thigh-highs locked and ready. I am going to be spending alllll my moneys on sex toys, and I can't think of a better way to be spending a Friday night.

Also looking forward to becoming a member of the Australian Sex Party...so I will tell you how that goes and give linkies tomorrow.

I've got a few ideas on the brain lately that I'd like some help with. So please leave a comment, email me, whatever, I like to talk to you.

• Where can one acquire a miniature bicycle? I know they make those little TechDecks, do they also have little BMX's or something? Also a figurine of a fish. I want to make a sort of...diorama I guess. You'll see when the pieces are all together. Unless it's already obvious.
• Aside from the completely obvious of Stephen King, I'd like to read some more horror fiction. I've heard Jack Ketchum is good - any suggestions? Please don't tell me to read Poppy Z. Brite or Anne Rice. Not interested.
• It's pretty short, so I'm not sure if it's possible but I want to learn how to braid my hair. See pic of my hair at the bottom of the blog and tell me if it's do-able, and if so, how. Or you can come over and we can have a hair party and you can do it for me.
• Can ANYONE tell me if there's a gourmet cupcake cafe in Brisbane? I vaguely remember hearing something about one in Paddington I think, but I'm quite sure it was just a lovely dream. Where the hell can one get awesome cupcakes in this town?
• Would anyone like to have a picnic with me one Sunday soon...with cupcakes? At New Farm?

I love cephalopods.

Happy Hump Day

Monday: Still close enough to the weekend for you to bask in its glow. (I don't like Mondays, tell me why!)
Tuesday: The worst day of the week. Too far away from the weekend either way. (Goodbye Ruby Tuesday)
Wednesday: Hump Day. The week is half over, it's all downhill from here. (Wednesday Morning, 3 AM)
Thursday: Kebab Day, the day before Friday. (Every other day of the week is fine but whenever Thursday comes you can find me cryin' all the time)
Friday: The best day of the week. An entire weekend lays before you. There's a reason people write so many songs about Fridays. (It's Friday I'm In Love, Friday On My Mind, Thank God It's Friday)
Saturday: Seriously, everyone loves Saturday. (Saturday Night, doo doo doo, 10.15 on a Saturday Night and the tap drips, Another Saturday Night and I ain't got nobody)
Sunday: Not so good. The worst part of Sunday is Sunday night. The realisation that tomorrow will be Monday. (Sunday is Gloomy, my hours are slumberless, Sunday Bloody Sunday!)

Things that have happened in the past 5 days:

• Bought a ukulele. Love it. Watch Israel Kamakawiwo'ole play Somewhere Over the Rainbow on ukulele. You've probably heard it on a couple of movies before, I love the video - Iz seems like an amazing person. He died in '97.
• Saturday we hosted a party for my housemate's birthday at our apartment. It was insane and messy. I'll post some photos on my flickr soon when I get around to reinstalling Photoshop on my laptop. In the meantime check out the photos our friend Tim took with his camera that is a million times better than mine on his flickr.
• Sunday...Recovered, and spent too much time on StumbleUpon. That app will eat your hours away. And really, I don't mind.
• Finally finished reading my excellent book Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter. Really dirty gothic novel set between London and Russia in what I guess would be late 1800s? The main character is a cockney trapeze artist with wings whose name is Fevvers. The story follows Fevvers and the members of a circus group from London to Russia and it's quite beautiful and dirty at the same time. In one word I'd call it "grimy".
• Saw Gran Torino at the movies last night. Anyone else seen it? I did like it, Clint Eastwood is badass and I know it was supposed to show people accepting each others' races it just...kinda rubbed me the wrong way in a few places. Everyone is constantly whipping out racist names at each other, and the only people who don't react to that are the Hmong people. I didn't really get that. Anyone care to interject on that? Also, pretty triggering at the end - sorry for spoilers but eh, it's a pretty straightforward movie. The main young girl character is beaten and raped and she walks in the door to her family home with her face horrifically maimed and I cried at the sight of her. Anyway, good movie.
• Spent about an hour reading this excellent article yesterday. It's called "How You guys, that's right, you GUYS, can prevent rape". I'm kind of paranoid lately. Every single day I read the news and there's a new article about another woman being raped. Every single fucking day. I'm looking at taking self-defense classes, anyone else like to come with?Also...investing in a baseball bat.
• Entered into the International Women's Day Fun Run held at Southbank on the 8th March. It's a 5km course and you don't have to run the whole way. I plan to run/walk/run/walk/complain/walk. Entry is only open for a couple more days so book in soon if you're interested. I also received a whole bunch of stickers, posters, bookmarks and ribbons for International Women's Day in the mail, so if anyone wants some just ask. Or you can order your own (they're all free) from Queensland Gov's Office For Women site.
• Right now I am eating Girl Guides cookies, listening to Jeff Buckley and about to make myself some mee gourang for lunch.

Happy Hump Day!

An Open Letter

To the various people I see throughout my days.

To the white-blonde guy who walks past the bus-stop in the mornings,

You are a very striking looking guy. If I had your bone structure and hair colour, I would consider going on the cover band circuit as a Billy Idol impersonator.

To all the women I see wearing office casual, with jogging shoes,

It weirds me out and I don't know why you do it. Do you just wear them when you're on your way home and keep a cooler pair of shoes in your bag or something? Doesn't that get annoying? Do you really think joggers go with those classy duds you have on? Seriously, you look hella hot from the ankles up. White joggers should never have been invented.

To the girl I drooled over on Thursday morning,

I really liked your shirt, because it had a big blue and red target on it and reminded me of Tank Girl. You wore those denim short-shorts so well, and your hair was luscious. And then as I got close enough to pass you, I noticed you had freckles all over. You are so gorgeous.

To the 3 hot American jerks wearing hospital scrubs on the train this morning,

You reminded me of Scrubs, and for that, I thank you. You are all superbly hot.

To the witty bus driver I occasionally get on the way home,

Thanks for not being a sadsack jerk like all the other ones. I like how you try to joke with every single passenger. It may make the journey take longer, but it makes everyone happier.

To the people who press the crossing button repeatedly,

This will not make the lights change any faster. In fact, it does nothing at all. You really don't even need to press that button, because the traffic lights are not dictated by how many pedestrians need to cross the road. They are all timed, and if you just wait, your turn will come.

To the people who press the crossing button while I'm leaning on it,

Get the hell away from me. You know I already pressed it, I'm leaning on it. You just stepped into my space bubble, and for that you should die. Step away from me.

To the person serving the counter at the Mexican place,

I still haven't figured out if you're a man becoming a woman, or a woman who looks like a man becoming a woman. Whatever you are, you're hot, and your hair is the highest beehive I've ever seen. Props.

To my coworker,

It's not funny or cool when you diss on your wife.

To the lady at the chemist counter,

I'm sorry for the look of shock and indignation I gave you when you told me how much my prescription would cost. I guess I'm not used to Big Medicine raping my bank account. It's not your fault.

To my brother who when I walked into work this morning said "Nice dress. Why don't you go back to your home on Whore Island?",

That was actually pretty fucking funny.

To Janeane Garofolo,

I wish we could be best friends. We could get real drunk and dance to My Sharona, talk about the indie music scene and watch Mike Judge cartoons. You could teach me how to properly apply eyeliner, then we'd go op-shopping for Doc Martens. After that we could go sit in the park and talk about the 'normals', while dreading each other's hair and reading Sylvia Plath to each other or something. Maybe we could get matching Gonzo-fist tattoos. If you're into it. Call me.