Thursday, 4 December 2008
Friday, 21 November 2008
'Cos all I wanted to be
Is a million miles from here
Somewhere more familiar
I've never been this far away from home"
Friday, 7 November 2008
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
Thursday, 2 October 2008
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Saturday, 19 July 2008
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
Perspective - that's what holidays are all about. Stepping back to figure out how far away you are from who you want to be, because a certain amount of deviation seems to always happen in between waking up every morning and going to sleep every night. Kinda wish there were more markers along the way. There's an episode in the third season of House where the patient develops a rather far out disease where he can read people and then mirror their core personality traits back at them. I'd really like to know what mine are, have a feeling its changed rather drastically from about two years ago.
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
Wednesday, 4 June 2008
Monday, 2 June 2008
Friday, 23 May 2008
Friday, 16 May 2008
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Sunday, 11 May 2008
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Sunday, 27 April 2008
Saturday, 5 April 2008
Sharing a park bench quietly
There are so many horror stories of friendship turned arsenic: gruesome and bloody backstabbings, smashing of trust with blunt instruments, unauthorised sharing of top level secrets. Despite going to an all girls school, I managed to float through school observing and generally avoiding some ridiculously complicated friendship politics. The clean up squad was more my thing - once the missiles were spent, voices reduced to a raspy croaks and tear ducts exhausted, peace troops would be needed to clean up and sort out. That was quite fun, talking to both sides, investigating the situation, finding middle ground, clearing up what was invariably a small, deadly misinterpretation of words. Blimey, the energy wasted on drama!
There are a few people who fall into the park bench category for sure. Swallow and Glitch are utterly easygoing, happy go lucky, solid, up for anything [not always a good thing with me around] and total soul mates in a non-cheesy, non-astrology.com kind of way. Coaster is rather more complicated: the image of a vertigo inducing, erratic yet strangely reliable roller coaster springs to mind. While on it, there are moments of panic and illness, but being on the ground involves being lost and without a compass, even though I often disagree with his sense of direction. Yea, its complicated. Birdboy probably be there would too, but thats a situ still floating around in midair at the moment.
There are potentials that hover around, new friends, old friendships that would be missed terribly if they were to dissolve, but those are constants necessary for all to be right in the world.
Long distance close friendships are tough. I miss how easy it is to be with them, the short hand which cuts through explaining, the instinctively knowing when something is up without having to be told/tell. How we always, always end up having a good time getting ourselves into and out of crazy situations, laughing all the while. Even the shittiest day turns around.
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
Last winter was a bit of a disaster overall, which might have been expected considering it was the first for this particular sunny islander. Wasn't expecting just how utterly cold and harsh and actually quite miserable it was. Finally understood seasonal depression. After nineteen years of taking it entirely for granted that going outside meant sun and warmth and comfort like a hug, suddenly its just not there. Unimaginable. In school, the crazy girl who'd choose to stay in the sun for hours if need be, that was me. Fortunately its largely sunny down under, cannot begin to fathom living in a gloomy country for more than a few weeks.
Monday, 24 March 2008
She said - while you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what you're dreaming when
It came to mind that I didn't care
- Rest Stop by Matchbox Twenty
She had been working at her job for over 20 years, longer than I've been alive! She's always loved it, her first job which she assumed would be her only one. We joked that she had roots entwined in the foundations of the place and she could never leave because the place would fall apart, and spirit wise it was so very true. In the last couple of years however, change of management etc etc, it became insanely, unfairly and more annoying, unneccesarily stressful for her and people kept telling her she deserved better and should leave but she couldnt. There was a massive emotional investment: her husband worked there, the team was like family, she had known all the regular customers and retailers for years. She fell ill constantly, was permanently stressed out for about two years before she reached that 'rest stop moment', a tipping point, where everything fell into place and she was able to break out of the unhealthy situation within her comfort zone and move on without looking back.
Non-mutual breakups are so messy and painful because one person has reached that moment but the other is yet to get there. And that sucks, as you can't force an epiphany. It's one of those irritating mental switches that you can lean over and juuust brush with your fingers, unable to get enough of a grasp to flip it at will.
Just three miles from the rest stop
And she slams on the breaks
She said I tried to be but I'm not
And could you please collect your things
I don't wanna be cold
I don't wanna be cruel
But I gotta find more
Than what's happening with you
If you'd open up the door...
Saturday, 15 March 2008
Anyway! One of the things that got the drowsy brain buzzing was the villain's Achilles heel - a lack of imagination. Specifically how this was expressed through his inability to spend the kazillion million dollars he stole. It is quite a common question, the 'if you won a million dollars/ had three wishes/ could rule the world etc what would you do?' line. Good for random conversations with possibly dodgy people on buses. If you think about it though, how many entirely unique responses have you heard to that?
The conversation early on in the movie, where they each describe what they intend to spend their share of the money on is interesting because it manages, in just a couple of minutes, to sketch a reasonably vivid image of each person's personality. Handsome Rob's drool-worthy Aston Martin is a player's car; a pantie dropping, super cool adrenaline rush. The geek speak with which Napster describes his sound system immediately assigns him the nerdy techie's place in the team, and Left Ear is for sure the cultural one with his beautiful Spanish villa and leather bound first editions, etc etc. All done in just a few cleverly picked phrases from each of the characters.
Steve Frazelli [baddie] couldn't come up with even one thing that he wanted, he borrowed off everyone else. It is roll on the ground hilarious when they realise he has very literally bought their ideas. The catch though, is that he can't possibly enjoy the spoils because they aren't 'his'. The kick-ass tv, stereo, car, house, library have nothing to do with his personality or tastes. It's like the joke about the art dealer who sold a white canvas to a multi-millionaire, assuring him that this was the newest art movement. Luxury is an experience, and therefore entirely relative. Ferrero Rochers, enjoyed infrequently, would be absolute heaven regardless of whether I'm driving a Rolls or living in a leech infested ditch. He is admittedly a one sided character, for storyline convenience, but that aside, he hasn't figured out what is uniquely extra special for him, which is not scarily not uncommon in real life!
Right now, I don't quite know what I would do with a few million dollars. There are the obvious ones I'd want to do like travel all over the world, enjoy all those currently light years outside budget experiences like cruise around the world first class, sky dive, learn to fly and then buy a plane, a boat, eat in funky, ridiculously expensive restaurants, buy into a formula one team, watch a kazillion plays and concerts, build up a massive library and art collection and generally run riot with all my friends.
There isn't any focus to all that though. It's to do with not having an overwhelming passion for any one thing in particular. Having strong opinions and an interest in a variety of things is not quite the same. Those people who have found that Something [with a capital] they cannot live without, I envy them. I like music, but don't turn pale or feel ill at the thought of a couple of months without it, unlike probably Confab and RD. Ditto with any other interest except perhaps to a certain extent human rights related things and psychoanalysing everything. Right now, if my bank account balance unexpectedly grew several extra zeros [before the decimal point], I'd probably invest it so that until I finally do figure out what I want to spend it on, it'll be sitting there, getting fatter. To be fair, I reckon its also an age and experience thing, this knowing what you want.
* John Lennon
Tuesday, 11 March 2008
Theres no point in having a blog if you can't release what you think, what you feel, what you wish you didn't feel, feel you shouldn't think or think you shouldn't feel. And then there's the whole if a tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one knows, did it actually fall? I know now what drew me to blogging again is, more than anything else, the actual act of writing. Putting words together, taking them apart, refitting, streamlining, adding, replacing, playing. Its like dabbing at a painting for me - little strokes of the brush, enjoying the rush until it looks good, feels right. I'm not a serious writer, just an entirely selfish one. I write for me, to make sense of my little, sometimes painful world.
It was a Monday, a sunny, sparkling day because it had rained in the morning, and all the trees were a happy deep green. I had homework to do for that afternoon [of course]. Usually a last minute essay is a smooth, oft practiced process, but that day I couldn't get a line off a Norah Jones song out of my head. It wasn't boyfriend trouble, that kind of stuff actually doesn't get to me too much, it was a complicated non-melodramatic incident involving a boy I loved as a part of me, one of those quiet things that you can't really pinpoint at the time, which makes it difficult to analyse. I remember feeling restless, and uneasy but not depressed or anything like that. And then, sitting there in the library overlooking the mango tree, I started to write and write and write. A poem four pages long, I just couldn't stop myself. No idea where it was coming from, these weren't thoughts that I had consciously, feelings I was completely oblivious to. Once it finally ended, sitting back, exhausted and reading it over was such a shock. It was so wierd to be reading something composed by me, but totally new to me at the same time. At that point I realised this is what makes up for my tendency to live in denial and then be overly rational. Its the outlet that quite literally keeps me sane.
To conclude: Don't guess. I'm not that person. Seriously.
This is hypocritical of me because I love trying to figure out who the blogger is. Perhaps thats partly why I'm so paranoid, but anway, since this is my space where I get to be a brat, its shameless denial till all the animals of the ark come home.
Friday, 22 February 2008
Can I just say, I'm kinda impressed?!?!
One more big one to go :D
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Commitment phobic, independent spirit, its all a matter of perspective really. All I know is that at this moment in time, I am without a doubt thoroughly addicted to being single. The last couple of nights have been shades of awesome!! :D A heady, exhilarating mix of fun music, crazy theme parties, tequila, vodka, pineapple juice, funky friendly people and general mayhem. Total spontaneity is such an adrenaline rush. Made lots of friends! Including one particular boy *grin* who besides being cuuute, with a damn good body, also had the impressive ability to carry on a hard core politics/psychoanalysis/history conversation at the bar of a club with music blasting out of speakers a couple of feet away. I think I'm in like. So huggable, he was. Anyway, in typically me fashion I disappeared without saying goodbye so he has probably vanished into the universe, but it was nice :) To be honest the highlight of that night was just the dancing, laughing and going crazy. The theme was 'bright and tight' [dodgy, I know] but wearing wildly contrasting bright red, green and orange made the hippie in me so happy. Trust me, the net effect was not as bad as that sounds :D
Really need to work on flirting signal recognition. Its terrible the extent to which I really do not notice all this implied rubbish. Partly because I cant be bothered, partly because c'mon, Aussies are just all friendly and outgoing. Its tough to distinguish between 'hey I think you're fun' and 'hey you might potentially be really fun' [drunken hookup signals are irrelevant]. Plus if you dont know the person that opens up the entire avenue of personality - some people are just really really outgoing.
Anyway, while recovering from severe lack of sleep, overdose of chemicals and the morning after torture from cruel but sexy heels, it hit me that I dont want to give up this freedom for a very very long time. Not just in the partying aspect of life but just generally, the space to do entirely random things, whatever I want, whenever I want without having someone go all sulky on me. It applies to friends too, cant handle clingy people who need to be babysat. *shudder*.
Ok have to continue battle with sheet to turn it into a toga for tonight!
Did I mention, o week ROCKS?
Friday, 15 February 2008
Ahhh V day. I guess Love with a capital is always a touchy subject, so the amazingly emotional reactions makes sense. Anti valentine rants like Kaiser's are so much fun to read, plus anti valentine's day cards and cartoons are so creative! Loving it!
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
Thursday, 31 January 2008
Its a pretty obscure book, haven't found anyone else who has read it, but its the perfect fairytale and should, I firmly believe, be read repeatedly to all little girls during their impressionable years. Florizel is all a real princess should be: fun, easygoing, full of energy, down to earth and game for anything. Too busy riding her horse and being upto all varieties of pranks to waste time on dresses and gilded mirrors. Freckles, boy short curly hair.
Theres a prince of course - handsome and only heir to the large neighbouring kingdom, nice enough guy, immensely relieved to meet Florizel who compares well to all the stick thin, self obsessed princesses that shudder at the idea of having anything other than dry toast and water for breakfast and turn pale at the thought of being in the sun.
At The Ball [the one where the prince chooses his princess, for any lacking fairytale education] Florizel tells him in her usual firm friendly way that he's quite nice but she has no interest in getting married thank you very much and would he like to do something interesting such as go on a hunt instead.
Her parents are horrified, being of the follow the fairytale template generation and lock her up in her room [with food, they have quite a good relationship going]. Her mother waits eagerly for the prince to climb the vine that she planted when her daughter was born.
Then comes my favourite part: the prince climbs into the tower and proclaims [quite chuffed] that he has come to rescue her. Florizel asks him how he got up there, and he replies that he used the vine. She then points out [in a 'speaking to idiot male' tone] that if he used it to come up, she can obviously use it to go down can she not, and she doesn't need rescuing, thanks. HAH!!! Awesomeness. He climbs down the vine alone, quite deflated, presumably feeling his little fantasy world is rather topsy turvy.
There is of course a scene with a dragon, where the prince gets trapped and Florizel out on a ride finds and rescues him, tearful scene with the parents who cant understand where their daughter is coming from and a couple more humorous twists that I cant remember anymore. The conclusion however was that Florizel and the prince decided to be firm friends and got on very well, I don't think there was anything about a Forever.
And no, she's not a lesbian :P Maybe they got together later on, if her hormones kicked in and she decided she wants to settle down, its all open ended and realistic. There is no creation of impossible expectations for a handsome knight on a white horse to make a breathtaking entrance, swish his sword a few times and solve all the princess' problems. No magical kiss which, being from the 'one true love' overrides all evil.
This is the root of the high divorce rate. Little girls and boys are encouraged to think even subconsciously that perfection exists. That there is the happily ever after where all food tastes divine, there is no stress and the weather is miraculously perfect. The scary thing is that once you've gotten to them before about 5 years of age, its ingrained in their consciousness, and they can only rationalise it to a certain extent! ARGGHH. Plus the whole extravagant wedding stuff is just an adult continuation of a children's story. Think about the adjectives that are used to describe weddings - magical, fairytale etc etc. Watched 27 dresses yesterday and everything looked so pretty, I actually contemplated thinking about wanting one for a whole tenth of a millisecond. YIKES. Of course BirdBoy got all happy taking it as a sign that I might be less of a commitment phobic someday, but I don't think so!!
I love intelligent romantic comedies with happy endings as much as the next girl, but most of the stories out there are so darn unbelievable. Wheres the fun in having an entirely peaceful life? A few fights now and again are healthy and keep things spicy - after all makeup sex is apparently the best kind and all that. I'm not a cynic, I believe in love and a boy to be happy with and laugh a lot with. But I do have an innate suspicion of this love stuff, it is so often just heavily perfumed rubbish.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
Went for a Curry party got stuck at the couples end of a table for a while, which was quite a painful experience. Is it that difficult to retain your individuality and ability to keep up a conversation with someone outside the cacoon? Pathetic.
Met several interesting people after making my escape, including a Sri Lankan who has been in Aussie all her life, visited once, but is more 'Curri-fied' than most of my friends back home! Twas hilarious, she's lovely as in warm, generous and caring but the whole grapevine/setting people up thing is scary. I was randomly chatting to this guy and suddenly he comes out with 'oh yea, K told me about you and said we should be friends cos we're both from SL'. AAARRGGHHH. 911. A terrifying majority of her friends are from SL, and looking at the slideshow of pictures from over the years, any Aussie influence is minimal. Of course the accent is there, and she does have 'white' friends but still, unsettling. I don't like the thought of being accepted so easily just because I come from a certain country/sub continent.