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.

Personal Leave

My laptop has been broken for the past couple of days, I'm left using my boyfriend's. As such I haven't read any news or blogs and I'm kind of going crazy. Add to this that I'm kind of unable to focus on anything except how much my entire body hurts. I had my first circus class last night. It was a brutal hour and a half of sadism. Lucky I'm a masochist. I feel pain in places I didn't know could feel pain, and I can't lift my arms above my head. All I'm able to do right now is lie still and dream.

So here's a list of things that I would do if I had a full month's paid leave.

• Obtain a super fancy and comfortable chair shaped like a throne. Cover windows with dark material. Obtain cape. Read Lord of the Rings trilogy while simultaneously playing corresponding Led Zeppelin songs. Legally change my name to something Welsh-sounding with extra apostrophes. Spell the I's with Y's. Name must contain a minimum of one W.
• Join a gym for one month, one with a swimming pool. Exercise more than is good for one person. Emerge at the end of the month with giant guns. Challenge all those who oppose me to arm wrestles. Win.
• Go into business making gourmet cupcakes. Quit job.
• Cram. Finish IT course in one month. Arrive back at work and demand promotion. Get dejected when I am rejected. Resign myself to life of monotony and subordinance.
• Go to Peru. Climb to Macchu Piccu. Eat fried guinea pig. Probably die from allergic reaction (yes I am deathly allergic to guinea pigs. Last time I touched one, my throat closed up). Downside: expensive.
• Write a novel. Upon completion, read through once more. Burn book.
• Volunteer at a library. Show up every day, inducing all the paid employees to begin to whisper behind back about "that weird unpaid girl". Continue love affair with books unheeded.
• Volunteer for scientific experiments. Get probed. Run on treadmills. Get wired. Get electrocuted. Answer questions. Be watched while I sleep. Take strange pills. Eventually, have hair fall out and skin begin to rash horribly. Gain large amounts of weight, vomit unknown purple things and grow a tail. Get paid splendidly.
• Grow a tail.
• Seek out an untrafficked river in rainforest preferably. Build hobbit house. Take you down to my place by the river. Feed you tea and oranges that come all the way from China. Wear rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters. You know that I'm half crazy but that's why you want to be there.
• Grow a large amount of Venus fly trap plants. Feed them meat and blood. Re-enact Little Shop of Horrors much to the amusement of friends and neighbours.
• Sell all possessions and clothes. Begin anew.

That's all I can think of for now. What would you do with a month off work?

"And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water and he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower. And when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him he said 'All men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them'. But he himself was broken long before the sky would open. Forsaken, almost human, he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone."

Scented

Smells I love...

-The dying plant sitting in the shower at work.
-Sauteeing mushrooms
-Aaron's hair when it hasn't been washed
-Our pillows
-The perfume I never wear anymore that smells like candy
-Mangoes
-Rain
-Hair after it's freshly dyed
-Toothpaste-breath

My favourite way to fall asleep is with my nose in his hair.

I am currently in the middle of the worst mood swing of recent memory. At work. With nothing to calm me down (chocolate?). Please someone, send help.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

So I've had a pretty frustrating weekend/week/month. I'm not feeling so perky. In the interests of wanting to know if it works - is anyone else on the pill Yaz? I'm switching to it next week, because I told my doctor that I pretty much can't stop crying, so she wrote me up a prescription. I had a big read about Yaz when I got home and found out that there's such a thing as Premenstrual dysphoric disorder which - to be fair my doctor didn't seem too interested in going into my mood swings so much, so no I'm not formally diagnosed or anything - but it seems that the symptoms are me everyday. So is anyone else on Yaz, what's your experience, does anyone else have killer crying jags, or is it just me?

My weekend: For Valentines Day, we woke up and it was raining, so we stayed in bed watching Boston Legal for a few hours, which was nice. Then we went up to go on a trek to get some Italian. It turns out that all nice restaurants in the radius of our house do not open until 5pm. So we ate some cheap Indian which just made me long for my new favourite Indian place just up the road. Which was shut. I hate life.
So there was that. Today, once again I lay in bed all day, this time reading. I finished off A Child Called It by David Pelzer, which made me sick and reinforced my idea of becoming a foster parent someday. I get so upset to know that child, spouse, any abuse happens so often, it's happening right now, probably to someone you know. Once again...what the fuck is wrong with the world? And where is Dustin Hoffman with a bouquet of flowers to make me feel better? I'm glad I made that picture my desktop background.

Right now I've just finished reading a short story called The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. I've been wanting to read it for ages and swiped it up on ebay. It was brilliant, creepy and really disturbed me. It's a short tale based on Gilman's own experiences with mental illness in the 1800s - a woman who is stricken with some type of "female hysteria" is taken by her physician husband to a house in the country to let her "absorb some air". She's confined to a room on the top floor with hideous yellow wallpaper. She is told to rest, and unable to indulge in any of her hobbies - writing - and as the days pass she begins to hallucinate watching the wallpaper.
I also watched a great movie along the same lines last night called Bug. A woman and a retired veteran are together in a motel room and they begin to see bugs. The first hour was slow and I wasn't sure where it was going or if the story really mattered but then things started to go awry. It was one of those movies that I haven't been able to stop thinking about since watching.
Another one that I recommend is a film called Funny Games. The original is German or Austrian, but the director remade it himself shot-for-shot in English to get a wider audience. It was powerful and intense and disturbing and all those other words you can think of, and just watch it, okay?

Anyway, here's something I wrote the other day while kind of pissed off. Directed at anonymous.

You're one of those people whose best years were in high school. Consequently you never left in your head.
You still have the same friends and refuse to entertain the possibility of making new ones. You listen to the same music and refuse to listen to anything else, old or new.
Every day is the perfect time to reminisce.
You continue to live exactly the way you did the first time you moved out of home. I know, I did it too. Eating nothing but noodles, ice cream for breakfast and cereal for dinner. Let the bowls pile up cause someone else is bound to clean them. You stay up really late like you're badass for doing it. Watching Rage till the sun comes up and drinking coffee cause there's no one to come and tell you to turn it off. Then you were old enough to drink, so lying on the kitchen floor with a bag of goon became familiar. You still live like your parents are gone for the weekend.
It's always bothered me to see old schoolfriends on facebook who live in the same place and see the same people. You're just like them.
You think you're independent because you've lasted this long. But you've gone nowhere, you've learned nothing and you're the same person you were at 17.

Nyaww

Well...this made me feel better instantly.
I've always loved Dustin Hoffman.
Happy Valentines :D

Sick

I am. I'm totally fucking sick.

Skinheads in Zurich beating a Brazilian woman and carving initials of Switzerland's main right-wing party into her stomach. She miscarried.
A victim of gang rape in Saudi Arabia sentenced to 100 lashes and a year in jail for adultery.
A pastor stating that the bushfires are God's punishment for the state of Victoria decriminalising abortion.
And seriously...Chris Brown beat the living shit out of Rihanna, but it's her fault cause she "started it"?

What the fuck is wrong with the world?
There are no words.

City Council: Workin' for YOU!

Yesterday when I got home from work, I thought for a while that it was raining because I could hear a constant steady stream of water. I went out onto my balcony to enjoy the rain, but what's this? Sky's clear. I look over into my neighbour's yard to see that they have left an outside tap running on full, straight onto the concrete. What the? I get kind of annoyed cause I fucking hate seeing people waste water, but I figure they'll turn it off when they hear it and remember. It's loud enough that I can hear it, so unless they're deaf, it's not likely to escape their attention.

That was 6pm yesterday. Fast forward to 1.30pm today and it's still running, there's water everywhere. So obviously, the people aren't home. There's no way I'm going into their yard to turn it off, as they aren't even in my street. Normally, I'll kind of just turn a blind eye, everyone else does, why should I care, but that is a LOT of wasted water, so I decide to take a page out of my Nana's book and call someone about it. So first I call the Brisbane Water Commission, who tell me that this is a council matter. They put me through to council.

I explain the sitch to the (unsympathetic) operator. She lets me know that even if I did put in a request for someone to come out, it would take 6 to 10 days for council workers to arrive (they don't drive cars, but harness snails for transport), and even then they would probably not venture onto the property because it is private property. She suggests I go and turn it off. Sure. I'LL go into someone else's private property for you.

Thanks for nothin Brisbane City Council. Not like we're having a water crisis or anything.

Help me find a movie

Hi all, I need a little help.

This Valentines Day, I am actually in a relationship, but my boyfriend is working that night, so I decided I might get out a chick flick and cry on my own. (Sorry Minna, but I wanna be home when he gets home from work, for the sexytimes, you understand)

Anyways, I haven't watched a "chick flick" since I moved out of my Mum's house, and I don't really know what is out there for me to watch. So I've got a list of criteria and I need some suggestions.

-Must contain British people. Their ability to express their feelings is usually hindered by their stiff-upper-lip. I can relate to this.
-At the end, they break their stiff-upper-lip-ness by doing something extravagant to show their love, like buying flowers, humiliating themselves in front of a large crowd of people, or beating up Hugh Grant.
-I'm kind of hoping that the main characters won't be dazzlingly beautiful people, but just normal.
-Something with the potential to make me cry. Even if it's crying like "aww that's gorgeous".
-I know a lot of this criteria equals Bridget Jones' Diary, but I am adding a new criteria right now. NO Renee Zellweger.
-Bonus points if it contains Colin Firth. I have a ladyboner for him.
-A happy ending.

Suggestions?

*Droooool*

EDIT: Haha...perhaps I shouldn't be so hasty to watch a "romcom". Check out this article about how romantic comedies give audiences unrealistic expectations of love. And all this time I'd been blaming that on my parents.

Commuter Idiocy #1

This will be a recurring theme, because the list of stupid things that my fellow public transportsmen are able to do to annoy me is endless, bottomless, the magnitude of the list is amazing.

So today...I'm looking at you. Yes, you, old man. Are you a maths teacher? Because you dress like one. That's not what I find stupid. I mean, I do. I can get over that.
But I do want you to know that standing curbside staring angrily up the road will not make the bus come any faster.

Hey you, lady with excessive coinage. Is it really necessary for you to run to the front of the line when the bus pulls up, so you can get on first and make the bus driver count your coins just so you can get a seat before anyone else? Some of us have Go-Cards.

Hey you, private school girl. I don't know if you've noticed the signs on every window, but they say that you paid half-fare compared to me. And I know you didn't pay it, your parents did. So stand the fuck up and give me a seat.

Hey you, entitlement-crazy old woman in the aisle seat. How about you sit down in the window seat so that when the bus fills up and I ask to sit there, you don't have to sigh and sneer at me like I'm trash as you move your knees just enough for me to squeeze my ass through right in your face to sit there. Perhaps you could have just moved over, or, I don't know, sat there in the first place.

Hey you, guy with techno playing in your earphones loud enough we can all hear it...You're not fooling anyone. Did you know that you can now, in this fine year 2009, purchase earphones that do not broadcast your "music" to the entire bus. They are available from JB Hi-Fi for $12.95, and they go in your ears which also helps to entirely keep out the sound of schoolkids squawking. You can thank me later.

That'll be it for today. Don't even get me started on train travel. I dread days when I have to take the train. If I wanted to be surrounded by scum, I'd go live in a pond.

Way to go, brain

I think my brain is getting extremely lazy when it comes to my dreams.

Usually I have pretty far-out stupidly extravagant dreams that don't bother me, and I think how awesome it was for my unconscious brain to come up with that. Like when the world was on fire, but only smouldering, and buildings everywhere had collapsed, but I was in the Queen St Mall and I just wanted to get to Hungry Jacks to have a bacon deluxe, but there were schoolboys everywhere and I couldn't get through the throng and gave up. That was deep.

But lately, my brain has gotten lazy, and done away with subtlety.

I dream about all my insecurities in action. But instead of being kooky and symbolic about it, it's just straightforward. As if I didn't already think about that every waking moment, now I have to think about it every second I sleep. I'm not going to go give an example, because it's so obvious and upsetting, I don't really want the world to know my weaknesses. I keep that privilege for a select few, who could and sometimes do use it against me. You know who you are.

If I could only dream symbollically and strangely like I used to, maybe I could pretend that I'm not dreaming about EXACTLY what I'm dreaming about. I could fool myself into thinking "oh well that obviously means I'm just troubled over the current state of my funds" or "well I'm obviously just a little overworked at the moment". But no. Thanks brain. I go to sleep to escape from my bullshit. But you just bring it right in there to sleep with me. I hate you.

I hate my brain.

Does anyone have skills in hypnosis or massage? I got some serious tension I need to get rid of.

Dear Stephen King

I love you. Maybe one day we can have babies that inherit your talent. But I'll keep my last name when we marry, and our children can be called King-Llewellyn, so that they will carry on our name...well mostly mine...and bring great honour to my already awesome family that is descended from Welsh Princes. Princes, Kings, it was destined to be.

Perhaps you could take me under your wing and teach me all the secrets that you didn't put in On Writing - I know you have more secrets, because you wouldn't just give that shit away for free. I mean, yes I paid for that book. Do you have some kind of note card system, where everytime you think of something that is evil and soul-destroying, you write it down, then you put them all in a hat and draw out three?
"Okay let's see what the cards say today. There's a....clown who....eats children....and he lives in the sewers!"
"Okay we've got a...bad cop who....kills everyone in sight....but he's actually a flesh suit for an evil being!"
I'm pretty sure I have you figured out Stephen King.

But then you trip me up with your unbelievably horrifying stories that are so simple. Like being handcuffed to a bed for a weekend, or trapped in a hot car by a rabid dog. Can I just let you know, I fainted and threw up while reading Gerald's Game. That's how highly I think of you.
I don't think I've ever read one of your books and NOT loved it.

Sometimes I get carried away and I imagine you are the incarnation of the Lord here on earth, and I think, you sneaky sneaky deity, trying to blend in with us mere mortals. How else would you be able to put on paper that which harrows us and makes us praise you that we are not in such a situation (hello, Pet Sematary)?

In all seriousness I'd like to thank you for creating so many awesome female characters - that's probably my favourite thing about your stories, and perhaps the reason I find myself sucked into a different world so often whilst reading. I'm not alienated by a useless screaming head with no character - your women are plunged into terror, and they don't always keep their head, but they always go it alone and they're JUST LIKE ME. You've written heroes that are women, villians that are women, and victim-hero women who defeat the evil men in their lives. Thanks for reminding us all that girls can kill an evil clown with a sling-shot, murder an entire prom with their mind, or kidnap an author and keep him in her house. ;)

Also, I love happening upon random columns you've written, or interviews with you where you lay the smackdown. Not to mention that you live in the greatest house known to man.

To quote Oasis...I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.

PS...You look like a character from Dr Seuss.
PPS...Here's what happens when I get bored and think about Cujo.

New hairz

I has them.


They make me feel better. Slightly. Stupid bad weeks. They happen too often. Everyday should be sunshine and purple hair and rainbows and lollipops and kittens. And zombies.

Kind of obsessed at the moment with the NYC Burlesque Pastie Blog. I can't stop thinking about this set...kitty titties! (PS In case you didn't realise, that site is Not Really Safe For Work...BOOBS!)

"The most she will do is throw shadows at you but she's always a woman to me."