throw me a frickin' bone

How humiliating; i had to do my own work roster for the coming fortnight and could only afford to give myself 5 hours and then 9 hours following. Its times like these i wish i had ties with the sheik, inheritance or my own personal fortune. bollocks to that. And further more, what really grinds nails against the blackboard of my mind is when people come to me, waste my time asking lunatic questions about products/prices/sizes and then smile and giggle like its our little secret and say oh well, i paid much less for much more duty-free! thanks - i just wanted to know what i was saving and how worth it Duty-Free shopping is. Umm, excuse me? you waste my time while REAL consumers have their credit cards at the ready, you're blatantly telling me you won't buy from my place AND rubbing it in that i'm not making commission because while you were on yer fancy holidays, you bought the shit half price. WELL GO BACK TO HAWAII AND STAY THERE, BITCH. I don't have the hours i need, I'm not making any commission, and searching for new employment is impossible while everyone is feeling the strains of cut backs. Get a clue.

so what do i do? i go out with my friends in my super chic $10 mini dress and get drunk on $5 champagne, mostly bought by the others. I'm not rail thin, but slender would be fitting and it doesn't take me long to forget the worries of work, or my own name. muzel tov. good things.

I'm doin' the happy dance... i'm doin' the happy dance...

By midmorning i was but an egg smashed on the side of a searing hot frying pan. I didn't just crack, i was shattered. Exhausted and emotionally run down - i couldn't for the life of me smile, see straight or best of all - breathe. It was a paper bag day all the way. My sister was ringing about her problems, my cousin shared hers, my brother is leaving me - AGAIN - for the other side of the world. The subjects i need to get my own life going as far as study had all shut and to get any assistance at all, i had to be queued in a phone line. i was no.27.. why the fuck offer too many places and not enough spots? i tried to call virginblue to get a message to my parents that i would be working so the old ducks'd have to find an alternative route home - "i'm sorry we can't guarantee that. we have thousands of people a day choosing to fly with us..". I called in sick because i can't bear to think of someone waiting at the airport alone. However when i arrived, they had got the message upon checking in at Sydney airport. Talk about a wasted day. There were not enough pillows to scream into.

wash me clean

For the first time in about 10 years, i willingly went to church. on a sunday. yah. Growing up catholic at a private school, these things were always done under duress but today was for someone else, for my friend and her son. He was baptised for the good of tradition, and for the good of future educational purposes. I sat there in the sweltering heat watching and trying to understand the messages but it still escapes me how much is shunned, cut out and dismissed from everyday life for faith in a fairy tale. "do you renounce satan, the prince of darkness and father of all evil?". thats a horribly strong  question to pose. Yes satan is the mascot of all fuck ups but if we're human - we're in the business of making mistakes. its in our nature. No one is perfect and everyone has their own set of cards delt their way to play. It just seems hypocritical to invite and welcome to the sacred space for refuge but "if you screw up, don't come crying to us - we warned you satan was out there". Although somehow, with all the cynicism and question I have of life - i secretly hoped the cleansing water for all sins would splash on me, and hold me in good stead once more. Also, i was amazed that after all this time of purveying the buffet of religion (atheism) and ignoring the one I was born into - i remembered the "our father" prayer without skipping a beat. i was playing around on my camera and still caught myself in time with the priest and his frequent congregation. amen.

flashback

Any city in the world one finds themselves in for long enough is sure to become no bigger than a cuppa tea. And what a warm, humbling cup it was last night. Essentially it was a farewell but it was a reunion of sorts too. Our friend is departing for a life in italy to study art & design. Through all these mutual loves of beer, friends, art, music, and other cultural treats we indulge in, we found old faces too. High school, art school, work school and drinking school had its super summer disco and we were all there in taffeta clad memories. it thrills this little spider monkey no end to hear and see how life is for these amazing people and also, possibly a little selfish but gives your own self esteem a boost because when you hear yourself talk about, explain, relay past adventures and future plans, you start to see how quickly time passes, that your life is blessed, and even more so to be given the opportunity to once again be around such extraordinary souls.

ya threw me for a Lupe

On an ordinary saturday night i met some extraordinary people through some friends who are roadies - for Lupe Fiasco. yeh yeh his music is catchy, he's the man and all that.. i was interested to see what kind of party it would be and even more suprised when he walked in the room, introduced himself and handed me these clear lense glasses to hold on to during the night so he could swap styles. ok, at first i was quite impressed with his calm and down to earth nature, very welcoming and not awe striking to the point of breath taking. It made the evening relaxed like you were just meeting some of your friends american associates. nothing spesh... until we got to the lobby from their room to go out. the whole hotel bar stopped and stared. i would never wish fame upon anyone. We were no one, we were just hanging out. riding coat tails. It was weird. Walking through the streets to the clubs and girl after girl got collected with the entourage - fair enough, superstar. Hour after hour of dancing with the man, (also now known as grabby hands) everyone in the club was too pissed to realise who he was and theres me holding onto Lupe so he wouldn't lose his crew in the crowded club. Sitting on couches with his band mates chatting, they ask; are you coming to the show tomorrow? big day out? I don't really have the coin to throw out on a festival like that at the moment so no. Oh oh, well if you come back to the hotel you might get a pass... you gonna come back and party with us? Ummm maybe that might be fun.. I shit you not, there were about 4 girls lying all over the men and my friends and i were staring around thinking, this is fucked, who seriously does this groupie crap? So i went to the bathroom, went out for air - kind of kept some distance from the sleaziness of it all. I honestly do not care who is inviting me back to their hotel room, i'm not going to do it. If you're reading this and you think i wasted an opportunity of a lifetime, then thats your opinion. I did the only thing i though was the best option, took those limited clear lense supers, and walked the fuck out. I like to think of it as a style keep sake of the whole damn fiasco...

HOLY THURSDAY!

This is probably this biggest day of the year so far. There are a thousand friends celebrating a thousand happy birthdays, very uncanny actually. University application results came through and yes yes oh yay, this little piggy is going wee wee wee all the way to post graduate study, along with a sister moving here for study NEXT WEEK, a wayward sailor brother and his missus coming home after a decade away from the land of Oz and another brother moving to vietnam with his ring bearer and heir in 3 weeks for something like 2 years. All this news was basically revealed today - by 9am. i was still wrapped in my duvet and some eye crust. the world was already spinning and the only thing to do is to get swept up in it (with a strong coffee to kickstart the brain). 

Now to venture off to work... if 9am was already mayhem, i'm interested to see what the rest of today brings. I'm not quite sure if I'm really awake yet though. just smile and nod...

lazy by nature

i'm finding myself in something of a gray area. employed but sort of not. minimal hours donated my way and far too much time on my hands. so i've semi-given up. i've not washed my hair in almost a week and it's beginning to resemble an old english sheepdog - a dirty one. the 3 day old sand and thick salty texture looks like a dead-beat version of that blissfully stupid puppy on the dulux ads of yesteryear. During the "giving up" big lebowski style slump there may be things like finding "elle mcpherson fake tan face" residing in the google images search bar on your computer or digging deep into the 90's music memory bank to find and download all the shit you refused to be a fan of then, but now? well it has a catchy beat i spose.. hands up if you're uninspired. even when life is busy, looking for famous people simulate an oompa loompa is healthy. it is. This is the slacker's guide to summer i suppose. 7-Eleven slurpees topped up (and i stress the term 'topped up') with gin, a flawless tan, reading the weekend paper on tuesday, breakfast for dinner to avoid contending with stoves, temperatures and burning things and weiss sorbet & champagne for desert. there is direction this town where the streets have no name. there is postgraduate study, trips on the horizon and a mind to expand. but right now there is a lazy summer to be lived in. and moments to be slept through.

kiss me, you big cry baby

three words: I MISS YOU.

they can sometimes feel like the toughest words to tell someone. even after all the dirty, funny, off the wall, ridiculous messages one can send to another, i miss you can take some steel guts to say. Is it because they are so simple and to the point, that they encapsulate all that needs to be felt? they make my stomach flip a little. even if its just to a friend you've not seen in a while or to someone you genuinely feel is missing from your life and it shouldn't be like that. it's heavy. Maybe it's because we're de-sensitized to everything else; fuck you, you cunt, get a dog up ya, you're rough as hessian undies you are, colder than a nuns vagina.. etc etc (i could go on), so that when it comes to saying the most basic expression, it feels gooey, mushy, and unnatural. where did the love go?

one can't govern who or why they miss the other, they just do. they may be funny, or comfortable or best of all (and my personal favourite), intriguing. nothing like coming back for more even when you know the ins & outs of the persona. it's intrigue that does it, god damn it.

what is worse, though, is the reaction or lack there of which speaks volumes. I'm guessing that 90% of the time they're like a deer in the headlights. I don't understand what the big problem is... It's not a jaw dropping statement. but it's important.

I'd be better off venturing to the sun at night, i'd get less burnt.

That you popped by...

home on the range

Hungry Eyes

so you'll come to notice that i have a skewed view of food, and many of my blogs will have something to do with my fascination of how bad i am with it. This is usually how my punters end their meals..

►►►►►►►

Don't get the wrong idea, i love food. i'll smash a plate and go in for seconds and sometimes thirds. I am just shithouse when it comes to creating meals with my own two hands. 

Tonight for example I tried to whip up something simple and earn some stars in the kitchen. Vege stack with polenta and haloumi cheese. not difficult. well the fucking polenta went to a yellow piss paste and the haloumi was delish for the first few bites then as the temperature dropped, became like tastey rubber. the vegies rocked, i grilled those with garlic. I honestly can't understand how i am so spastic in the kitchen. i don't even know what will go with what when i'm grocery shopping. no concept whatsoever,.

Food and me have always had a tempestuous relationship. one of us is always trying to be the boss. i want to master it, and it refuses to cooperate under my rule. Baggins will back me up if anyone ever wants a more indepth idea of how retarded my body is with rejecting food stuffs. just ask her about the sinus-ham at the wintergarden centre. or the attempted home-cooked cordon bleu when v-rad swore was just chicken stained pink by the ham. no love, that shit was still ruling the roost on my plate it was so alive.. we ordered pizzas. 

the way to anyones heart is through their stomach. I'm affraid I'll have to find an alternative route.

morning, sunshine!

forgive me, for i am not a fan of eating in the morning. it's not that i subscribe to the kate moss theory, i just feel ill when i've only just woken up and the thought of anything beyond coffee makes me want to roll over and return to the land of nod. the texture, the timing.. just wrong. however, in an effort to avoid damage to the body and mind in the future, i have taken on the challenge of breakfast. i found some muesli? is it? and poured into bowl. felt bowl looked too small so found soup sized dish. i shit you not, i had to consult someone nearby as to how i go about preparing this meal. do i add milk? or just yoghurt? if so, which flavour goes best? will it be too dry? sweet or savoury fruits atop my new found feast? confused and over-thinking the concept way too much, i went with muesli, plain greek yoghurt and a banana (which i hate. maybe i'm sabotaging this for myself from the kick off...). i won't lie, it was shithouse. way too much crunch for the thick sour blob and bananas, well they can suck it. smug mushy bastards.

I'm not sold on the idea of early eating at all. it was my own doing, i realise. if i had a clue about it, i could have combined some more exciting flavours. i lost.

breakfast - 1, Lady A - 0.

simply the best

How do you tell someone they are NOT the best you've had? Good, yes, satifying, maybe adventurous, well about as adventurous as a telephone cord. Best? well thats just a darn big word to be tossing about the room. Even sadder, (in my sour & cynical mind) is when they look at you with these big bright eyes, adamant to do whatever it is to be the winning challenger at this game called shag. Through the aforementioned sour and cynical view my beadie eyes hold, i feel as though i have to crush the spirit and say, look, just forget it. You didn't 'wow' me, and I'm not one to let the challenger win by default. In my books there is no such thing as sharing the rules, they just have to be known. Honestly, it's not rocket science... but sometimes it is like telling a dog how to bark. seems like you're just a double-dosing dorothy.

 (help me O-B wan, you're my only hope!)

so; here's to my merry men and women. the above may not be a yellow matter, but it is certainly a matter of some kind. if i know my friend angela, her posts will be much of the same. a matter of some peculiar kind. i can make no guarantee on what, in fact, i wouldn't dare. 

i have set this blog up on behalf of your unknowing and soon to be host. angela is full of dry, wry wit that is often best read and absorbed as opposed to heard. 

eloquent? 

specific? 

obnoxious?

hilarious?

ambiguous?

sharp?

lovely? 

a toke of everything i'd say. 

read on, visit often and may you never be disappointed.