Blog and Mablog

2003-12-17T18:11:00.000+10:00

2003-08-12T13:45:00.000+10:00

Yeah, so I had a look at my last 6 months of postings or so, and quite frankly, I'm obviously lacking in dedication. Apparently a job that I find boring and depressing is much more conducive to decent blogging than a course I am inspired by. Don't know if I'll be back.

I liked the final ep of Buffy.

2003-07-10T19:01:00.000+10:00

Oh wow, it's like they asked me to find the perfect cast for a new movie version of King Arthur and they were all available (particularly Gawain, the big Aussie spunkrat)! Oh, who am I kidding, I'm just picturing myself as Guinevere, getting to choose between Clive Owen and Ioan Gruffudd.

2003-07-05T14:27:00.000+10:00

Well, I got home last night from a week at the snow with the family. I'd never skied before. I'm not particularly coordinated. Because I'd never been before, I didn't quite know what to look for in ski boots, and chose boots that were a little bit tight, and then teamed them with thick socks. On the first morning, standing waiting for the level one class to start, I was in so much pain I couldn't breathe properly. I kept asking my sister, "it really hurts, is this normal", and she'd say, "yes! everyone's boots hurt". Everyone is constantly on the verge of tears? Yes, apparantly. In the first half-hour of my two-hour lesson, my feet gradually went numb, and then I didn't feel anything for two hours, which is kinda scary. At the end of the lesson, I went and sat down in the cafeteria (we were at Smiggins), and took my boots off, then had to go through the pain of the worst pins and needles I've had in a long time. Needless to say, I bailed out of skiing for the rest of the day.
Day two, after getting new, wonderfully comfortable boots, we went to Perisher. As the lessons are not included in the $80 lift passes, my sisters decided thatI'd be fine and they'd take me around the slopes. This was a mistake. There's a new eight-seater chair-lift at Perisher, and I'd never been on a chair-lift at all, and this one has a barrier, and then a magic carpet to struggle through. I fell down at the bottom (and was lifted quickly by a whole bunch of people), then I fell off at the top as well. No, not on the slope where normal people fall, but on the actual platform, so that I had to prostrate myself on the floor so that the chair could pass over my head and the other eight people ski off. So, after that, we then tackled the moutain (bear in mind I'd had almost no experience). I fell down so many times I slid down more of the run than I skiied. My sisters are good skiiers, but they aren't instructors. The one time I got a bit of confidence and went a little bit fast, I was fanging along a long, straight section, and skiied straight into an unmarked puddle, went flying and almost landed head first into another puddle. This was before attempting the t-bar, which noone told me not to sit down on. I sat down. And fell off. Two metres from the start. It was only the thought of the humilation I'd feel catching the chairlift back down the mountain that kept me going. So I fell down it instead. I was half-convinced that I was in a large-scale Truman Show-esque conspiracy to make me believe that people actually enjoyed skiing. I lost count of the number of times I fell once it went over ten. I could not believe how anyone could have fun. I had trouble falling asleep cause I kept picturing myself falling and would tense up my body.
After this, I had to take two days off to recover, since I couldn't walk up or down stairs, and was having diffiulties doing things like drying my hair and tying shoelaces. Fortunately we were had six full days, so I still had two more days to learn to like skiing. And, to my astonishment, I did. I'm not any good at it, and I have sore hands from gripping my stocks way too tight from tension, but I kinda liked it. The lessons from appropriately spunky ski instructors helped, and I'm never going to be a speed demon, but I can go fully sick on the old snow plough turns, and only fell once on each of the last two days, and they weren't bad falls. It also helped that my older sister, who is a particularly good skiier, decided to try snowboarding on the last day, so I was suddenly miss champion skiier, while she was Crappy McCrapp. Now I just have to wait for the bruises and welts on my legs to heal.

2003-07-05T14:15:00.000+10:00

2003-06-23T20:54:00.000+10:00

The wedding of the year was lovely. Despite my utter emotional breakdown on Thursday night, in the middle of Grace Bros, I ended up wearing something that was already in my wardrobe. It must have been alright, cause it was virtually fricken identitcal to what another girl was wearing. That's not confronting, it's comforting. The crypt at St Mary's was lovely and cosy and celtic, and the acoustics were amazing, and did things to the divine Four Play's strings that mean I will never settle for an organist again. Bishop Cremin was funny and genuine and warm and good, all the things a catholic priest should be, and he was obviously so stoked to be there, and he recited an entire Yeats poem that was as beautiful as it was almost incomprehensible. That's what you need in your priests - less bible, more poetry. The procession across Hyde Park went very nicely, including the catcalls from bums ("you're making a big mistake!"). And the reception was just about perfect.

Post-wedding we had cocktails nearby (an el Loco, I believe), then ended up at Darlinghurst, where we sat around wondering why we were so tired at 9.30pm.

I think I'm the only person in the world not to own the new Harry Potter. As if I give a shit, I've just found out there's new books from Neal Stephenson AND Jonathan Lethem this year. Now Bret Easton Ellis has to get his shit together, and my year will be complete.

2003-06-17T21:30:00.000+10:00

Sorry to nerd up a bit, but while researching for my racial vilification essay, I came across this 1997 journal article, "Rwandan Genocide And The International Law Of Radio Jamming". Not having read too much about the details of Rwanda when I was 21 (was I more insular then or is there a greater access to information now?), I was staggered by this article, which discusses the reasons why international forces did not step in to jam the radio transmittors in Rwanda. It's from a law journal, so beware the legalese, but it's fascinating:

RTLM broadcasts organized roadblocks and read lists of names of "enemies,'' who were tracked down and executed by militias. According to the broadcasts, a person who did not have his identity card "should be arrested and may lose his head.'' Specific vehicles, such as a red van allegedly "full of accomplices,'' were identified, together with license numbers. The red van, which was carrying François Ncunguyinka, a former prefect of Gisenyi prefecture, and his family, was halted at a roadblock and all its passengers were killed. RTLM broadcasters congratulated their Hutu listeners on their "heroic'' efforts and asserted that "RTLM radio is with the people manning the roadblocks.'' RTLM goaded the perpetrators to kill. On April 15, its announcers declared, "If you do not want to have Rwandans exterminated . . . . stand up, take action . . . without worrying about international opinion.'' The station broadcast a speech by Jean Kambanda, the Prime Minister of the "interim'' Hutu Government, asserting that the war against the invading RPF was a "final war,'' which "must be finished.''

2003-06-17T21:11:00.000+10:00

I'm back. My media law essay is complete, all my feature articles are in, and I am completely finished with my first semester as a journalism student. Hmm, so what have I been doing apart from the study? Well, I've been gearing up for the nuptials of the year, allowed my dad to take me out to lunch while my mum's in Chicago, watched South Park (so many episodes I haven't seen!), dumped half my CD collection into iTunes, cooked for dad (chicken pies, meat pies, anything with pastry), been part of misadvisedly ordering the meat platter at a Spanish restaurant and was confronted with a heart attack's worth of steak, pork, chorizos, veal and chicken, went to my first hen's night, watched a few movies ("secretary", okay, "old school", fricken hilarious), and generally hung out.

In less than two weeks I'm turning 27. Same age as Kurt when he died. That seems unfeasably weird to me. Fortunately I'll be spending said birthday skiing. Well, since I've never been skiing before, I don't really know if this will be fortunate, but many other people appear to enjoy it, so I'm willing to give it a try.

2003-05-21T20:38:00.000+10:00

I'm on hiatus.

2003-05-11T14:01:00.000+10:00

You wouldn't believe the amount of young people at the greyhounds. I was expecting a huge amount of old dudes with trilbys and bulbous noses, but there were so many young people, ranging from full-on bogans to hipsters to surfies to glam Italians. It was an okay night's entertainment. I guess the more you bet the better you get at it, particularly at reading the form guide and stuff, but it just helped confirm that I am not, and never will be, a gambler. I lost both times I put a bet on, and I just get so upset and beat myself up about losing and not picking the winner which is obvious in hindsight. It didn't help that one of my dragged-along friends won two out of three of his bets. The real non-gambling clincher is that I never ever think that I'll make it up by betting again in the next race. Everytime I lose I'm convinced that I'll never win, so there's no point continuing. I got quite a few things to write about, so hopefully my article will have a bit of colour, even if I did have to be bullied by friends into interviewing strangers, which is quite the most difficult part of journalism.

2003-05-07T22:11:00.000+10:00

I've had at least three conversations with my mum this week that go along the lines of:

Mum: They're having a Mother's Day special at "X" restaurant (where "X" is anything from our local RSL to MG Garage)
Me: But we don't believe in Mother's Day.
Mum: Still, it's a good deal. When is Mother's Day?
Me: I wouldn't have a clue. Some Sunday coming up?
Mum: That's the problem with these Mother's Day ads. They're everywhere, in huge writing, but they expect everyone to know when it is. What about us fools who don't give a damn? How are we going to find out?

I'm going to the greyhounds on Saturday night. I'm doing a feature article for class on them, so I figured I should soak up the atmosphere at the dish-lickers and find out what it's like. The last time I went I was nine and Young Talent Time were performing. This surely must have been a special occasion, but I thought for quite a long time afterwards that watching Bevan fall over while dressed as a fruit (possibly singing "tutti frutti"?) was a standard part of a Saturday night at the doggies.

2003-05-04T13:23:00.000+10:00

I am a bad, bad non-blogging person.

This week has been my "insane" week. In addition to three days of work, I had a law essay due on Tuesday, class on Tuesday, Friday and all-day Saturday, a class presentation on Saturday, an insane amount of reading, an x-ray, and a cold that made everything just that little bit more difficult. I slept for twelve hours last night, so, apart from the cold, I feel okay. Sure, I have an assignment to do today, but I'm also going to go see X-Men 2, which makes it all worthwhile.

I had to spend two hours yesterday on an observational excercise. One hour was to be spent on observing a person somewhere in the Hyde Park to State Library area, the other was to be spent in The Mitchell Library. I was determined not to do a homeless person, but it's kinda hard to find someone who'll be still long enough for you to unobtrusively take notes on their appearance and behaviour. I ended up doing one of the guys who work in the newspaper/tobacco stands in Martin Place. The Mitchell Library is so beautiful, I highly recommend it if you want to get some quiet writing done in the city.

2003-04-23T20:00:00.000+10:00

It's kinda nice to be in a static working environment again, I'm reaquainting myself with the difference between weekdays and weekends. I went to the Easter Show on Monday, which was the only fair weather day of the whole stupid long weekend. I displayed another sign of getting old because I was more excited by the huge country food hall (complete with the district produce displays) than by the rides, showbags or endless breeds of cows. I even got two of the older people's showbags, and so now have all the sample-sized face cream and exotic spices I will avoid using this year. Attending with the sister who isn't a vet, we were able to swan past most of the animal displays without being forced to learn anything about them. We did end up spending an hour watching the Best In Show awards in the dog area, after deliberatly avoiding the cats (useless things that they are).

Anzac Day on Friday, six years into the annual picnic, hurrah!

2003-04-15T19:14:00.000+10:00

As the current prime caretaker of Mikey The Wonder Dog, I walk him as often as possible. There are three lovely bays within walking distance of my house, so when I have some time I like to tackle the joggers and fellow dog owners and stroll around the foreshore. Being an architecture dork, I spend more time looking at the posh houses on the water than the water itself, but I get a kick out of laughing at how dated 80s housing design looks, so I have fun. The most important thing I've had to learn is the location of every single rubbish bin within walking distance of my house. Excuse my crassness, but there is nothing worse than running into someone you know and having to have a conversation while holding a plastic bag full of dogshit.

2003-04-14T19:16:00.000+10:00

As I am the newest person at work, and am only working three days a week in a newly created position, and don't have to interact with the public, I am in Siberia. In the farthest corner, past filing cabinets, microfiche and other empty desks, is my little place. Instead of a filing cabinet, I have a shoe-box that contains a hole-puncher, some rubber bands and a staple remover. Not a stapler, mind you - that's too much responsibility. I sit in silence all day; the two people that sit near me don't talk at all. They've had one phone conversation between them in three days. At my old work we had six stereos between ten people and we would blast them out, only synching if there was a particularly cheesy song on the radio. Now, the loudest noise is the airconditioning, following by my computer humming, then the distant sound of people rustling paper. This isn't to say I don't have friends, it's just that they're all on the other side of the floor, or on another floor, and I run out of excuses for wandering over by 10:30am. You know what though? Not being emotionally invested means I don't care about my work environment, and I'm happy to put my head down and do some drone work which is better than most other part-time work options. And I have lunch buddies, which is nice.

All the bruising in my feet has moved to my toes for some reason. I'm figuring that as long as I retain feeling then I'll be alright. It looks pretty freaky, though.

2003-04-09T20:43:00.000+10:00

When I seriously contemplate going half-way across town just for a loaf of bread, it's a real sign that I am obsessed with sourdough bread. It's so tangy and delicious.

2003-04-09T20:40:00.000+10:00

Every time I start feeling sorry for myself I read Kristen's blog, and my life seems so placid in comparison.

In foot news, it's now the most remarkable shade of purple. The bruising is almost artistic - it's a light purple all over the top of the foot, and then there are these livid shadings streaked under the ankle. I also figured out that I must have hit my ass at some stage, cause that hurts too (in addition to my forehead and the bit of my tongue that I must have bitten). I really wish someone had seen it so at least I'd know what happened and how long I was out. I worked all day today, so my whole leg's getting a bit achy since I can't really stretch out my calf muscles at all.

Alix very accurately pointed out the value of "The Trouble with Angels", one of those 1960s girl's boarding school films - it has cartoon credits. And Bart made a case for Ruthless People - my sister's a huge fan, but I'm not convinced, although if that's the one with a young Bill Pullman I might change my vote.

2003-04-08T18:12:00.000+10:00

So, here's a question. Why am I sitting here blogging instead of in my media law class? Here's a clue - I'm in considerable pain, although the panadeine forte I took is starting to kick in so blogging might become more difficult.

I was walking downstairs at lunchtime, and I stumbled and landing extremely heavily on the side of my foot. I kind of hopped down the last few steps, and then sat in a chair in my hallway, kind of clutching my knee (which I had also somehow hurt) and whimpering with pain. The last thing I remember is feeling this exposion of pain radiating up from my foot. Next thing I know, I'm trying to figure out why I decided to have a lie down on the fucking floorboards of the hallway, and slowly remembering that I twisted my ankle. It wasn't until I'd lurched to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath shaking that I realised I'd passed out for the first time in my life. It was very bloody scary. Luckily I was sitting down when I fainted, so I didn't have as far to fall, but I've got this red mark on my forehead, and my glasses are bent, so I guess I landed face down. I have no idea how long I was out, but I do remember taking a while to come round, as I was in that state when you're dropping off to sleep and you're half-thinking and half-dreaming. I lay on a bed with my foot elevated for a while, waiting for the shakes to stop and the buzzing noise to go away (really odd, very distinct buzzing in my ears!). Worst thing was that I was alone, which made it all more traumatic. I walked to the doctors this arvo (and didn't that help the pain), and he reckons there's nothing neurologically wrong with me, which I kinda figured, but he recommended I not go to class tonight. I even got a doctor's certificate, which says "head injury" as the reason for sickness. I think it's the coolest doctor's certificate I've ever had.

My first day at my new job tomorrow, so I'll be hobbling around. Thank god it's somewhere I've worked before, so it won't be too weird.

The most disappointing thing was Mikey the so-called wonder dog. He was right behind me walking down the stairs, and then was next to me when I was sitting down, but when I passed out did go for help? No. Did he try to revive me by licking my face? No (I think...) Did he call 000? No. When I got up and went to lie down, there he was, having a sleep in front of the TV. Useless animal.

On a completely unrelated topic, I caught the start of Tomcats (the Jerry O'Connell sex-comedy) on cable last night. It has cartoon opening credits. I think that cartoon credits are a good indicator of the crappiness of a film. With the exception of Grease, I can't think of a single other good film with cartoon credits. I'm happy to be proven wrong.

2003-04-05T22:17:00.000+10:00

There's an editiorial assistant position going at the magazine of a certain bright-pink-girls'-doll-starting-with-"B". At this stage I want to work in magazine journalism when I finish my course. When reading the ad, however, I realised that working at a place where they list liking horses as a requirement for the position is just not something I can stomach. I can't go back to working in the areas of children's entertainment. I just can't. I think I'd go for a job there rather than a porn mag if those were my only choices (although, Playboy does apparantly have good articles), but any of the weird niche market mags (motorbikes, knitting, guns, boating, crafts) would all take precedence over kids entertainment. That being said, ask me again in a year when I'm starting to look for a job. Something tells me I won't be going straight to Wallpaper*, The New Yorker, Time or Vanity Fair.

Oh, and I'm employed again! Not started yet, so I am still desperately povo, but this too will pass.

2003-04-02T16:13:00.000+10:00

Yesterday I had my first real face-to-face interview with someone I didn't know. All my others so far have been with former colleagues or casual aquaintences. Plus I used my tape recorder!!! It's great not to have to rely on note-taking too much (must learn shorthand), but listening to recordings of my questions are a bit cringeworthy. So now I'm sitting here, delaying transcribing the interview, while watching Mikey The Wonder Dog do the dog equivalent of sleep-walking, living out his presumed dreams of running and eating.

Had a lovely night at Shay's party on Saturday night. As I suspected, the mathematics theme meant that I spent much of the night saying, "What have you come as? Oh. I have no idea what that is." Watched Daredevil earlier in the night, was fairly unimpresed. Affleck's pretty good, but the plot was shithouse.

2003-03-28T11:00:00.000+10:00

A moment for gloating, if you will. Since I didn't pick actor, actress or director, I was pretty shocked.

Whilst I am, of course, devastated that Nicole Kidman won the Oscar, I was satisfied by her awful speech. And I have never been so happy to be wrong when Adrien Brody won best actor. He is so lovely, and such a star, and his speech, in comparison, was almost entirely perfect, from the stolen kiss to the thank yous to the hushing of the orchestra and making a really poweful comment about war. Anyone who saw Summer Of Sam couldn't help but think he was a talented actor, and it's great credit to him that he managed to beat a field of four previous Oscar winners and become the youngest ever best actor.

It was a strange Oscars - so many suprises, and such an odd tone to the proceedings, because of the war.
Mike Moore was interesting, although he seems so enamoured of controversy that, in my opinion, he wasted an opportunity to change people's minds by pushing too far. But then, that's his nature.

I don't know if anyone else noticed, but Ben Affleck seemed to have borrowed J Lo's foundation, and was a strange olive colour that didn't go all the way up to his hairline.

Keanu looked dignified, which is interesting, and that Mexican actor was just gorgeous, but I'd have to give major hottie props to Colin Farrell, and it was nice having my gaelic-speaking mother next to me to translate the end of his speech (something like, "thank you very much, and now here's U2").

That awkward class photo display of previous Oscar winners was just awful. It did more to highlight who didn't attend (Kevin Spacey, Russell Crowe, Jane Fonda, Jim Broadbent, Judi Dench, Gwyneth Paltrow, Warren Beatty, Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino, Jody Foster, Anthony Hopkins, etc etc etc). They would have been better extending the documentary they made and get some more interesting comments about being an oscar winner. Or talking about some of the other awards, like cinematograhy, or foreign film, or anything else.

Tragically, whenever I look at Peter O'Toole (whose speech was impeccable), I don't think of Laurence of Arabia, or Goodbye Mr Chips, or The Ruling Class. No! Whenever I see Peter O'Toole, I think of the first film I saw him in at the movies. I'm talking, of course, about Supergirl.

Steve Martin was great, with a pretty hard gig to do he was more gentle than he might have been. After the Danish guy who won best short film demonstrated the searing power of Danish comedy, I was relieved that Steve Martin chose to ignore it.

2003-03-24T09:51:00.000+10:00

I was flicking through the news channels the other day, while they were all waiting for George Bush's address to start. While most channels were getting on with other reporting, BBC showed the feed from The White House preparing for the speech for at least five minutes. I thought it might be an accident at first, but then it just kept going - endless shots of George Bush practising his lines, a makeup artist fixing his hair, and some guy in a very loud shirt crisscrossing in front of the camera. Turns out The White House are a wee bit pissed off at The BBC about it.

2003-03-23T18:43:00.000+10:00

According to The Army spokesman, The SAS are deeper inside Iraq than any other coalition troops and have found sites key to Iraq's possible use of chemical and biological weapons. I also read that while some oil is burning, the SAS prevented more from being torched. These guys are increadible. No wonder The Americans wanted us to join the war.

Paul Moran, an Australian cameraman working for The ABC in Northern Iraq, was killed by a car bomb, probably by an extremist Muslim group.

I spent yesterday working on the elections. It's actually nice to spend a whole day observing the people who come in and vote in a certain area. In the smallish booth I was at, there were people from all different nationalities, ages, income, education and interests. Now some poor shmuck has to represent them politically for the next four years. I kept feeling like a shop assistant, wanting to say, "thank you for assisting the path of democracy!" as they walked out the door.

2003-03-21T21:30:00.000+10:00

I'm exhausted. I spent two days this week at my old work doing change-over with my replacement. I gave them six weeks notice, and they still didn't manage to hire anyone until four weeks after I'd left. It's almost beautiful in its inefficiency. I guess if I had harboured any lingering doubts about leaving the workforce and going back to uni, they were all removed by going back there. Seeing the nice people was kind of fun, even though I had identical conversations with many of them. For the most part, though, I spent much of the two days tamping down the rising desperation and panic that I now realise I lived with most of the time in the last seven months at work. Working for two different bosses with opposite personalities, wasting my talents and exposing my weaknesses. I'm really really happy at my decision. I may need to start from scratch in a new industry, but there's no point working in an industry you love if you're doing a job you hate. My brother thinks The Office is funny, but really unrealistic. He's never worked in an office. For me, watching The Office is almost too difficult, because I know my brother's wrong.

I'm working tomorrow as well, but somewhere else, thankfully. I've got an assignment due on Tuesday, but I'm doing a puff piece this time, so it'll be slightly easier in the research and interviewing than my first article.

I've got my final picks for the Oscars in with Shay for Monday. Now I must figure out how to avoid all media during the delay of the actual show in The US and the screening in Aus. My pick at this stage is for either Chicago to sweep the pool (even though I'm picking Marty for best director, but that's sentimental), or Gangs to get best film and the rest to be all over the place. I've selected the Chicago option. You know what, though? I don't care if I get every pick incorrect, as long as Nicole Kidman gets shafted and I can watch her couture-clad self give that fake delighted smile that doesn't meet her botoxed eyes while she watches anyone else steal her Oscar the way she stole Jude from Sadie.

I think I need to read some decent literature. Sure, I'm back in the house with an overflowing bookcase in every room, but I've trying not to buy too much stuff while I've got no incoming funds (well, except for corduroy pants, but they don't count). I've been watching way too much cable TV since moving home - The Fifth Wheel, Dismissed, Becoming, and old eps of Quincy MD and . Thank god for Whose Line Is It Anyway, The Andy Dick Show and Conan, at least I'm getting some decent comedy.

2003-03-20T20:38:00.000+10:00

For the first, and hopefully only time in my life, I'm going to use the term "political correctness gone mad". I just heard Bob Brown from The Greens being interviewed, and he referred to "Saddam and his henchpeople". That's just about the silliest thing I've heard in a long time - sure, let's use insulting language to describe someone, but let's not be sexist about it. Cause, you know, Iraqi wimmin can be just as evil and capable of blindly following Saddam's orders as men.

2003-03-14T15:54:00.000+10:00

I have a not entirely interesting law class this semester (ooh, I say semester, it's obvious I'm not at UNSW anymore!). Due to an assignment for another class, I did none of my substantial readings for this law class. I decided that, despite being told we would have a class debate, I would huddle in the corner and let the pushy people talk. With twenty-six people in the tutorial it's easy to be overlooked. Come Tuesday night, however, and I make a startling discovery. *I* am a pushy person. On the basis of skimming through forty pages of notes on the bus, I get actively involved in my groups discussion, manage to invoke some legal lessons from OJ Simpson, and then is chosen as our groups' spokeschick. It wasn't too bad, although I did have a tough moment when my lecturer replied to something I said with the dreaded, "are you saying blah blah blah" where blah blah blah puts you in the axis of evil. I took the best course of action and just looked shifty eyed and replied "uh, no" in a small voice - play it for laughs if you're going to admit you're wrong, I always say.

2003-03-14T15:41:00.000+10:00

Two assignments done already and it's only the end of week two. How the hell am I going to maintain this momentum? I'm going out tonight to see some evidence of civilisation. Thankfully my sisters came up from Canberra for a long weekend, so I don't have to depend on the over-60s or a dog for company. Still no job, although I'm getting some work here and there, so I'm not entirely lacking a cash-flow.

2003-03-10T18:41:00.000+10:00

Point form entry, methinks:

- Cold calling potential interviewees is really difficult. Particularly since I was unwise enough to choose an increadibly complicated environmental planning issue for my first assignment, and the more I read about it the less I understand, and I find I'm calling strangers and instead of asking insightful journalist questions I seem to be saying, "this is what I've been told about this - can you please explain what that means?". I'm so desperate for a quote I'm going to contact a greenie.

- I got the massive shits at the Channel 7 news tonight. They had a coming up next piece where they said, "and Nicole Kidman is judged by her peers at the Screen Actors Guild Awards". I didn't know the results, but that seemed strangely cagey to me. Then, of course, they ran the piece by saying basically, "Nicole and a whole heap of Aussies turned up flying the flag and everyone in the world hoped our Nicole would get best actress and look how wonderful she looks how could she fail to win, but in some obviously wrong and possibly evil move it was mistakenly given to Renee someone or other." Then they started going on about the conspiracy that's saying bad people are out to rob Nicole of a deserved Oscar by saying she broke up Jude Law's marriage. And then they had a fucking awful segue by saying, "and Jude Law's friend Daniel Day Lewis won best actor". It does not have to be all about Nicole Kidman, okay? Now, of course, if she doesn't win the Oscar, then the Oz media can say it's because she was robbed, not because people thought someone else was better. Given that a hell of a lot more people have seen Chicago than The Hours, it might not be too treasonous to suggest some Australians don't want Nicole to win.

- I still have three boxes of books to unpack. Where do they all go?

- I've very quickly adopted a uni student's waking hours - up in time for Springer.

2003-03-06T21:54:00.000+10:00

First classes last Tuesday, and it was very exciting and nervewracking. You certainly wouldn't want to have any doubts about a career in journalism. One of the first things our lecturer said to us was, "this is a really really fucking hard course and you're going to have to work really hard so if you're not prepared to do that maybe you're in the wrong place". Or words to that effect. And because silly old me is doing the accelerated class, the assignment that is due in week three for normal students is due on Tuesday. So much work already.

2003-02-28T14:44:00.000+10:00

Look, nothing's been happening, okay? I've spent the last week watching cable, avoiding unpacked boxes, walking my dog, being taken to lunch by my parents, and looking for a part-time job. I had an interview yesterday, but I don't think I'm the right kind of girl. I don't want to wear full make-up every day. I don't mind mascara and lippie, but the full foundation stuff is not really my thing. Having just received my pay out from work, I'm not in too much of a hurry, anyway.

Next Tuesday uni starts, I expect things will get a bit more exciting then.

I went to my uni's O Day (how lame is that) on Wedensday. It was so badly organised that I wanted to grab some people and start rearranging the stalls and then start teaching the student helpers how to actually help the students. Once a yellow shirt, always a yellow shirt, I guess.

2003-02-21T15:13:00.000+10:00

Ahhhhh, there's nothing like five glasses of wine at your farewell lunch, then cocktails at home bar to relieve the anxiety. Wow, I'm suprised I can spell anxiety. They have the greatest pear-based cocktails at home. mmmmmm cocktails. I also got some really cool presents - a bag for uni, cause you can never have too many bags, and a notebook, cause you can never ever ever have too many notebooks. Oooh, it's remarkable how much editing I've had to do on this post.

2003-02-21T10:38:00.000+10:00

It's my last day at work and I'm freaking out. As soon as I walked in the doors this morning I started getting the panic grin on my face, and people keep telling me to stop smiling, because they think I'm gloating because I'm leaving but really I'm freaking. It doesn't help that when I get home tonight my flatmate will have moved out. I'm a Cancerian, damn it! We don't like change. We like to make a little home and snuggle up and stay there forever. In a one week period, I'm leaving my job (with no part-time work organised yet), starting a fucking insanely intense uni course full-time and moving back in with my parents. THIS IS TOO MUCH CHANGE FOR THIS CHICKIE! I know it's a positive change, but I'm still scared. The great Conquer The Music Industry experiment is over, at least in this incarnation of it. I'm pretty pleased with what I've experienced and achieved over the last few years (I met Neil Finn!), but really, no matter how cool your place of business, if you're doing a job that is alien to your nature, you're never going to be fulfilled. And believe me, finance is never going to be my thing. If I knew my finances were dependant on me, then I'd be as scared as waking up in the hospital faced with some of the med students I went to uni with. Fucking terrified. Oh, and for those who asked, I'm not giving up the blog. Hopefully the life of a bum student will be just as conducive to blogging as a bum worker.

On a slightly different topic, I've realised I have a Pavlovian response to the INXS song, "Don't Change". It's a favourite song without neccessarily being one I'd think of straight away if asked. But the last bit in it, when there the long, drawn out "Ddddooooonnnn'tttt Ccccchhhannnggggeeee" and then the higher echoing over it almost brings me to tears everytime. It even works in the new Grinspoon version of it. Just hits me in the guts, man.

2003-02-13T08:38:00.000+10:00

THREE - ONE! Aussies beat England in a sports match SHOCK! There's really no such thing as a "friendly" between Australia and England.

2003-02-12T15:55:00.000+10:00

Well, I've been a busy chickie lately. I am so exhausted - I have just completed enrolling in my new course. I am now a full-time student, so can now get half-price travel! Here's to that, eh? It took me twice as long as all the other people in my course, as per usual, as all of the subjects I wanted to do had either hideous pre-reqs or were already full or not available in the semester I needed. I'm doing investigative journalism, which was totally a case of me looking at the list and going, "oh, God... business reporting? urgh. Television? no. Radio? no. Sports? yeah, right". So if I win a Walkley or something, you'll all know it was a total fluke. Maybe I could investigate corruption on music television...

2003-02-07T16:40:00.000+10:00

For what I've been reading and writing today, see milgram.net

2003-02-07T09:33:00.000+10:00

Paul Sheehan’s article in Thursday's SMH has articulated, much more successfully than I could, why I feel uncomfortable with supporting either side of the Iraq debate.

2003-02-06T13:05:00.000+10:00

I just realised that my mental public transport dialogue has gone from calling everyone "Chachi", as in "Move your fucking bag off the seat next to you, Chachi", to using "8 Mile"-style dialogue, as in "Yo, stinky homeless dude, don't sit near me, check it". I only discovered this when I realised that I'd forgotten to meet my friend by the elevators. As I walked towards her I said, "yo, thought you meant your desk, dude" and then got all embarrassed that I'd used the word "yo" in actual conversation, within hearing of normal people.

2003-02-04T10:06:00.000+10:00

Columbia disaster full news. One of the last emails from the Israeli astronaut to his brother ended with the line, "see you on earth". Man, I started tearing up reading that. The fucking thrill of being able to write those words, and the tragedy that he never made it back.

My memories of the Challenger disaster are inextricably linked to the episode of Punky Brewster which had Punky wanting to be an astronaut and then the whole class watching it happen on TV. Why the fuck would anyone make this episode? And does this kind of thing affect kids more because astronauts are almost fantasy people to the average kid? Like kings and pirates, cowboys and magicians. Except much much better than any of those.

2003-01-31T16:18:00.000+10:00

9 confirmed dead and 39 injured. All the news media's being pretty comprehensive in the coverage. ABC News had one of those odd occurences where one of its journalists was actually on the train, and so gave one of the most articulate witness responses. Given the harshness of our natural environment, it's nice to see we have some world-class rescue services.

2003-01-31T15:30:00.000+10:00

151 Countries, 1 Fidelma

I've been doing change-over all day, which makes me feel like I'm in a day-time soap ("the character formerly known as "depressed accounts music-nerd bitch" will now be played by X"), I could do with a bit of Pep and Zip in my life, and the Advertising Slogan Generator is just the thing to catch your eye and make you seriously consider purchasing shares in yourself! (via the always instructive Pop Culture Junk Mail)

2003-01-31T08:39:00.000+10:00

Passengers trapped in NSW train derailment. Word coming in from the radio suggests maybe 20 people dead. Very sketchy news at the moment.

2003-01-30T10:13:00.000+10:00

Slant Magazine's 100 Greatest Music Videos. While a wee bit over-theoretical at times, it contains so many of my favorite videos, and has some fascinating insights into the motivations and inspirations of music videos creators. Plus, quite rightly says "Learn To Fly" is the funniest music video ever. (via scrubbles, of course)

2003-01-29T09:39:00.000+10:00

www.helenbeveridgewillyoumarryme.com. It's even cuter since I know Helen Beveridge.

2003-01-24T15:38:00.000+10:00

This photo of the set list for The Foo's gig last night has "Aurora" listed instead of "This Is A Call", which they played. Man, I would have killed to hear "Aurora" live, but not at the expense of not hearing "This Is A Call". I guess they figured we were all too pumped up to listen to a quiet song.

I'm going to write up the gig, as well as the Big Day Out, on the weekend, but I'd just lie to express my disappoinment in the amount of chicks wearing bustiers or halter tops to the Foos. How can you bring the rock if you're worried your boobies are going to pop out? In the face of so much energy, passion and love for the music, how can we as audience members not respond in kind?

2003-01-24T11:44:00.000+10:00

I'm sure there's an age where you finally accept that you are never going to meet and have a relationship with a particular celebrity. I'm not talking freaky stalking business, but that sigh you feel inside when you hear that someone got married, or the little burst of pleasure when they've broken up ("they're single!"). Man, I could've sworn I was over it, but seeing The Foo Fighters last night, it's not so much that I want to be married Mills and Boon style to Dave Grohl, I just want to bathe in his presence. He has got to be one of the top ten coolest people in the world.

2003-01-21T09:51:00.000+10:00

I had a fucking fantastic Friday night. I was so in the mood for a big one, without that desperate, NYE-esque "must have fun" feeling. Just hanging out, celebrating Shay and Sal's engagement, catching up with people I hadn't seen for ages, having a few bevvies, then next thing I know it's 4:00am and I've been drinking for eleven hours. ELEVEN. I managed not to disgrace myself too much, although did almost cause a fight in George St McDonalds, as one of the guys in our group went up to another of our friends in line to talk to him, and pissed off a guy behind him in the line. My friends had just managed to soothe the situation, when I wandered up and called out, "you causing trouble again, are you?" to my friend, at which point the stranger turned around and shoved him in the chest. I decided I didn't want fries anyway, and scarpered. Yeah, noone can cause trouble as fast as me. I also made only one verbal gaffe, which is a nice change. You know, one of those things when you only realise you've said something offensive when everyone else is laughing and shaking their heads at you. I'm pretty sure Sam wasn't offended. I hope.

2003-01-20T16:16:00.000+10:00

I find something deeply disturbing about the girls in my office who will seriously reconsider going out with a guy based on his star-sign. "Hmm... he's a Libra. I don't think I'll email him back." "Oh, male Librans aren't that bad, I dated one for a while, and it was ok." How fucked up is that? Almost as disturbing as Delta Goodrem's part-time fringe (so much fringe, and then it just disappears!!).

2003-01-15T08:29:00.000+10:00

Oh, and something else that pissed me off this morning - in an ad for the new Taxi Ride tour, they're playing at The Eastwood Hotel, Rooty Hill RSL and The Metro. Next to The Metro listing, it says "only Sydney show". Since when does "Sydney" mean the city? I know Rooty Hill and Eastwood are in the middle of nowhere, but it's still the middle of nowhere in Sydney.

I suppose it doesn't matter, really, cause who'd go see Taxi Ride?

2003-01-15T08:03:00.000+10:00

Best Alternative Artist: Creed.

In case anyone thought the term "alternative" had any legitemate currency these days, I give you the AMAs.

2003-01-14T13:54:00.000+10:00

This year resolutions:

1 - quit job (done).
2 - get part-time job in record store, model myself after Jack Black in High Fidelity/Comic Book Store Guy.
3 - Take advantage of part-time lifestyle to spend more time stalking Andrew G out at Fox Studios.
4 - Study early, study often.
5 - Create a design, any design, for Blog and Mablog that isn't a Blogspot template.
6 - Get published somewhere that isn't a university publication or the internet.
7 - get my Ps.
8 - Seriously look into setting up long-discussed website.
9 - Attend 10 year reunion (if one is held), keeping my dignity intact. If dignity is impossible, model myself after Janeane Garofolo in Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.

Things I'm proud of achieving last year:

1 - Completing Grad Cert in Writing.
2 - Moving out of home.
3 - Travelling to a city I'd never previously been (Adelaide).
4 - Cooking lots.
5 - Successfully keeping two different public library memberships without owing too much in fines and/or getting banned.
6 - Seeing a decent amount of bands/movies.
7 – Attending party in December where I knew no-one but the host (never done that before), having a great time at said party.
8 – Hmm, I’m sure lots else that I can’t think of right now.

2003-01-09T12:26:00.000+10:00

For anyone who has been curious: I just quit. It went really really well. Astonishingly so, given how nervous I've been. I haven't stopped smiling from relief for an hour now.

What's on this weekend? How about going on the turps to celebrate...

2003-01-08T16:09:00.000+10:00

Spent most of last night in the grip of nervousness, only to have to take a rain check. So, another night of agony and hopefully this time tomorrow it'll all be over (kind of).

2003-01-07T09:53:00.000+10:00

Hold the presses - Daniel Johns and Natalie Imbruglia are engaged! As Kelly Osborne would say, she's a very big bitch.

2003-01-06T15:55:00.000+10:00

Some things I learnt on my Christmas holidays:

* Justin Timberlake's "Like I Love You" will now always remind me of New Years Eve '02 ("drums!")
* I should just assume that momentous things will happen to friends who go overseas (congrats...).
* The Ocean's Eleven actors' commentary (Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Andy Garcia) is proof that Brad Pitt should do DVD commentary on every film ever released - he's funny and insightful, and has the proper lack of respect about his colleagues. Plus, he's hot.
* Even after a relatively short time, Reality Bites is hopelessly dated. Also, Ethan Hawke's character is a pretentious wanker that should have been beaten up. But I still teared up at the end.
* "Wet Hot American Summer" is, like Orgazmo and A Night At The Roxbury, more weird than amusing the first time you see it, but increasingly laugh out-loud funny the more times you watch it. Paul Rudd, particularly, is a bloody genius in it.
* silverchair's "After All These Years" is the sing-along song of the summer!
* Tapas + sangria = bad Spanish accents
* Knowing that David LaChapelle directed both Xtina's "Dirrty" and The Vines's "Outatheway" explains much about their similarities. Watching the making of Xtina's clip was strangely fascinating, especially the frottage that didn't make final cut.
* Loud and passionate arguments about the evilness of Avril Lavigne are undercut when you know all her lyrics and can lip-sync them better than Avril.
* The new "Be alert and report suspicious activities" commercials make me want to strap on a burqa, take acid and go rollerblading through Martin Place - let's see how suspicious that looks, motherfuckers.

2003-01-06T09:57:00.000+10:00

I’m not posting cos I’m still too upset that Toni Pearen got an invite to the Lord Mayor’s NYE party and I didn’t. And the SMH had the audacity to call her a “starlet”. Surely there’s a time limit with being a starlet – like, 15 years after your TV and extremely brief pop career occurred?

2002-12-20T08:44:00.000+10:00

I still feel like crap, and my voice is even worse. I'm whispering half my sentences. The only good thing I've discovered being sick this close to Christmas is that I've delegated almost all the Christmas shopping. I just don't have the energy for most of it. I also arrived at work this morning to discover almost the whole department handing out Christmas cards but me. Well, that's what it felt like. Can I buy them at lunch and hand them out then? I don't think so.

I did just hear "Do They Know It's Christmas" and am feeling all Christmassy. Hang on, I just called someone a psycho (complete with punctuating hand gestures!), maybe I'm not feeling Christmassy after all.

2002-12-18T11:53:00.000+10:00

Fantastic news about Oceania direct entry to World Cup. Roll on Germany 2006!

2002-12-18T08:43:00.000+10:00

I have this strange tendency to lose my voice when I have a cold. It gets annoying because it always happens towards the end of the cold and if I talk too much (like, a full day of work!) then I end up either completely voiceless or, at best, like Sigourney Weaver possessed in Ghostbusters (“there is no Dana, only Zuul”).

So, given that I have a cold, it possibly was unwise to have dinner at my family home when there are two other siblings there. We are a yelling family. Five kids, all only a few years apart, and you learn to yell to get heard. We have a big old house, not at all open plan, and we have adapted to have whole conversations from either side of the house. Also, last night my sisters picked up a free lounge and, against all logic, we decided to move the massive thing upstairs, which involved ten minutes of us screaming at each other and my dad calling out “watch the lights!” from below and us subsequently screaming at him to shut up.

As a consequence, I woke up this morning and just knew that I’d be warbling like a fourteen year old boy all day. The fun never stops around here.

Actually, it was worth it going home, as my sister is on uni holidays, and when she’s bored, she bakes. She made these amazing brownies, and I swiped a stash for Chez Annandale. She tells me the secret is following the recipe, and then adding an extra block of dark chocolate. That’s right, and extra block.

2002-12-17T14:31:00.000+10:00

I've got some kind of crazy summer cold. Chesty, sore throat, etc. Figured out yesterday that going home sick at lunch doesn't work if it's 32 degrees outside - air conditioned work would probably be better for me that heat-soaked bedroom.

Is John C McGinley the funniest thing on TV right now?

I just figured out last night that in a "What Queer As Folk Character Are You? test, I'd probably be Michael. That's so depressing.

Just over a week until Christmas and I have almost all my shopping to do. I also spotted the most beautiful orange pumas in Chinatown today, so I may keep the tradition of "one for them, one for me" with my present buying.

2002-12-17T08:30:00.000+10:00

I’m not going into details, to preserve some sort of anonymity, but if you were watching the news last Friday you would have noticed that two girls decided to celebrate a certain band’s free concert by swimming out to the stage. Now, it wasn’t me (unfortunately, I’m not that kind of person), but I was with them, and all I’m going to say is that far from being manic fans of the group, they were simply feeling the effects of a Christmas lunch. It did look like heaps of fun, even if we did have to retire to a pub to dry off (if not to dry out).

2002-12-10T13:08:00.000+10:00

Just had one of those great moments - I went out at lunch to go briefly to the shops, then return and eat my brown bag lunch. Instead, as I was walking along, I saw one of my best friends, who happens to live in Canberra, just standing there having a ciggie. After greetings and hugs we both decided to forego our home-made lunch and go have some BBQ pork and catch up. And it was heaps o' fun.

2002-12-10T11:47:00.000+10:00

If anyone was particularly inclined to get me a Christmas pressie, and was trying to think of something reasonably inexpensive, supercool and only slightly technically illegal, I would love forever anyone that could assemble the absolutely wonderful 80s pop songs that make up the Donnie Darko soundtrack (including Notorious!). Considering they couldn’t clear the rights to a real soundtrack, an unofficial one would have to do. Both versions of “Mad World” would be essential, of course.

2002-12-06T09:48:00.000+10:00

I just had the opportunity to compare two cabcharge dockets from The Drunken Event I went to a month or so ago. The one for the way there is beautifully set out, all areas entered and complete, signature looking like it always should. The one just behind it, on the other hand, has the "to" and "from" written in hard, small, tight capitals, that just scream a drunken determination to GET IT RIGHT. Obviously this took all my energy, as the written amount is barely legible, but seems to say "twenttyy (two "y"s are clearly visable) five" dollars and "five fifteen" cents. And my signature is so bad I'd almost have a case for claiming it wasn't me. I'mquite pleased though, as I had no memory of filling it out and was worried that I'd just signed it then fallen out of the cab.

Ahh, it's almost funny. Not quite yet. Maybe in another year or so.

2002-12-06T09:28:00.000+10:00

My Thursday night.

-Leave work at 5pm and decide to do a little Thursday night shopping.
-Walk from Ultimo up to Galaxy Nerd Bookshop, browse for a while, then through the QVB, then to Borders, then through HMV (when did that start to look like a supermarket, btw? I’ve obviously spent too much time in Fish and Red Eye.)
-Decide to get some dinner, so eat in the Italian place under Grace Bros.
-It’s around 7pm, so decide to go home.
-Off the bus, and I stop in the convenience store and pick up an ice cream, the SMH and the Drum Media.
-Walk home, get changed into after-school clothes, remove contacts, and settle in front of TV. It’s now 7:30.
-Watch the 7:30 report as an alternative to the new sitcom starring John Ritter.
-At 8:15, decide to stop watching TV altogether and call family.
-They’re not home, so decide to pass time until the new series, Scrubs, starts by reading the Drum.
-Notice the headline offering interview with John Spencer on the front page of the Drum. Idly wonder why they’re interviewing him the week before he comes to town.
-Realise that I’ve got tickets for John Spencer Blues Explosion tonight.
-Run into bedroom, check ticket, discover doors opened one hour ago.
-Frantic calls to Lori ensue. Leave frantic messages.
-Put in contacts, get dressed and stuff contents of my wallet into my pockets.
-Run to front door.
-Run back to bedroom and get ticket.
-Run to front door.
-Run back to bedroom and get house keys.
-Run to Parramatta Road, get call from overly amused Lori on the way.
-Get in cab, and am at Metro by 8:40.
-Vow to always pick up tickets before event as I swan past the lineup down the stairs.
-Walk into the Metro foyer bar
-Realise that I’ve discovered where every hot guy in Sydney is tonight.
-Go inside, meet Lori and Lisa, catch one last song of The Casanovas. Finally find out what these guys sound like (they’re one of the many over-hyped garage bands from Melbourne). They’re pretty good, from the one song.
- Wait around for The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
-They fucking rock my socks off.
-Realise that I do not have a personality to be a lead singer.
-Notice that the drummer looks like a spunkier, bespectacled, hard-rocking version of Adam Goldberg.
-Realise that I may have described my perfect man.
-Reminisce that I haven’t seen a lead singer so wasted since the infamous Big Day Out starring Courtney Love’s boobies back in the mid-90s.
-They finish, we wait for John Spencer Blue Explosion
-They start, I enjoy them, then gradually realise that I am getting extremely irritated by: guy smoking stinky ciggies next to me (constantly!), couple going the pash next to me, drunk, over-enthusiastic guy bumping into me, anyone touching me, anyone yelling at the band.
-Stay an hour, then levels of irritation get too high, do mental calculations and realise I must be PMSing like a son of a bitch.
-Knowing my limits, I go home, having had a great, if strange night.

2002-12-05T09:14:00.000+10:00

I have received so much mail from female friends who also share my thing for the Gryffindor quidditch captain. And every single one of them is wayyy too old for him.

The bushfires destroyed about twenty houses yesterday and one man was killed. It's going to be a shit, shit summer for fires.

I'm going to see the John Spencer Blues Explosion (with The Yeah Yeah Yeahs) tonight. After Chris Isaak on Tuesday night, where the audience was a bit too creepy thirty-something women whose last gig was John Farnham, it'll be nice to have a decent crowd again.

2002-12-04T15:44:00.000+10:00

One of the dubious advantages of being on the 10th floor now is that I can see for miles to the North and West. As a result, I'm getting a full view of the very post-apocalyptic fires that have sprung up in the last hour. It's really bloody scary, though mesmerising.

2002-12-03T10:37:00.000+10:00

I forgot to mention that I was in the newsagent at 3:30 having been sent home due to someone burning their lunch on our floor. Sticking a takeaway container on high for at least 8 minutes is a dumb thing to do, but it meant I was strolling the streets in the glorious afternoon sunshine. And then Leunig ruined it.

2002-12-03T07:53:00.000+10:00

So I went to the newsagent yesterday afternoon to pick up a Herald. There were none left. I asked the guy behind the counter, and he told me that it was extra popular today because of the free calendar. People were buying them in twos and threes. He was, of course, referring to the Evil Leunig calendar. These sick fucks who actually enjoy his twee little scribblings of ducks crying over flowers and think they're marvelous insights into the human condition can go get fucked. I don't know what's on TV this week thanks to you. I might even have to buy a TV Week. You bastards.

2002-12-02T09:34:00.000+10:00

I went to see Harry Potter yesterday. It's been a while since I've seen a film with that many kids in the audience. I think I was the only person in the threatre not to have read the book. Which proved to be a problem during the quidditch scene where I got so caught up in the action and fast editing that at one stage the big quidditch ball (I don't care what it's really called, okay?) flies staight at the screen and I actually jerked my arms up in front of my face to protect myself from the ball. I then started laughing and gave myself a good talking to and explained that it was only a movie and I wasn't to get so involved. Having said that, I wish there was more quidditch, cause the Gryffindor captain is the biggest spunk with the nicest accent and is the best thing in the movie. Oh my god I feel like a child molester - he was born in 1983! He's younger than my youngest sister. Ewww!

2002-11-28T09:59:00.000+10:00

You know that phrase, just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you (taking the Nirvana version, anyway)? Well, yesterday I discovered that all my paranoia is fucking justified. No more guilt from this chick right here!

2002-11-27T13:00:00.000+10:00

Meeting this afternoon. Do I share my true feelings or keep dissembling for the sake of semi-harmonious interactions for the next few months? I’ll let you know.

2002-11-26T11:26:00.000+10:00

I almost started crying last night watching The Office. It's just too close to my life right now. It's quite inspiring, though, to think that I may be able to turn my misery into comedy for other people's benefit one day.
Cable is the only good thing about staying at my parents dog-sitting for a week. I've watched more TV in the past two nights than all of last month.

2002-11-19T13:50:00.000+10:00

Thank you Mr Know-It-All, for actually checking through the website and discovering that they have reprinted the Battle Royale shirts and now are purchasable for 25 pounds. Which is, of course, about a kabillion $AUS. But they'd be worth it. So Shay and I will buy one each and then will fight to the death!

2002-11-18T15:58:00.000+10:00

Unfortunately, you can no longer buy these awesome Battle Royale t-shirt. I may have linked to them before, but I finally saw this film, and now I really really really want the boy's shirt. Oh well, off to ebay, I guess...

2002-11-14T14:29:00.000+10:00

Major life changes, ahoy!

Quitting, moving home, finding a part-time job in a record store so i can live out my High Fidelity fantasies, going back to uni full-time. It's all happening here. But not for another three months, and I can't stand the wait. Then, after a year (or 18 months if I move up a level in my course), I can become the editor for Smash Hits magazine and have the job I wanted when I was twelve.

2002-11-12T13:11:00.000+10:00

Planning a New Year's Eve party at someone's house without their knowledge can be difficult. Especially when you discover they'll be in Canada. Bitch.

2002-11-08T10:00:00.000+10:00

Everyone else is doing it, so I’m jumping on the Googlism bandwagon. Please bear in mind that I have a kind of unusual name that is mostly connected to a character in a series of crime novels set in middle-ages Ireland!

fidelma is a brilliant and beguiling heroine
fidelma is an irish religieuse of the 7th century ad who is also a trained advocate of the ancient irish law system of the time
fidelma is straight out of the sleuth noir mould
fidelma is a highly educated nun and lawyer
fidelma is drawn entirely with straight lines
fidelma is charged with solving the gruesome pagan murders of 33 young men
fidelma is positively holmesian in her deductive abilities
fidelma is a qualified dalaigh
fidelma is caught up in another mystery
fidelma is hardly a normal woman
fidelma is tops
fidelma is a fully developed character
fidelma is a nun
fidelma is a vote for women
fidelma is even more interested in the rape and murder of a local girl
fidelma is a valued member of the portlaw pipe band
fidelma is sister of an irish king
fidelma is also currently involved in the development of a number of television projects
fidelma is indeed very particular about breeding and placing her pups
fidelma is not so sure
fidelma is an admirable spokeperson for the celtic view
fidelma is already aware bush isn't catholic
fidelma is no brother cadfael
fidelma is the 11th of january

And finally…

fidelma is tall and green

2002-11-07T16:06:00.000+10:00

I just remembered my dream last night. Or one part of it, at least. I was in a helicopter with a whole bunch of the girls from work, and we were flying super fast and low through a futuristic city. All of a sudden, we took a turn too sharply, and spun out of control, and people were screaming and the helicopter was shaking and going crazy, and I remember thinking how this is that crazy stage that everyone going through turbulance goes through, everyone becomes convinced they are going to crash and die, and most of the time you're fine. But then the nose of the helicopter turned down and we fell down down down towards the ground and I just reached over and grabbed someone's hand because if I was going to die I wanted to be connected to someone else. And yet I was kind of calm and exhilirated and sad, but not scared. And then we crashed, and that's all I can remember. I think the dream changed, cause I certainly didn't wake up at that point. So, it's not true - if you die in your dreams you don't die in real life!

2002-11-01T09:29:00.000+10:00

I wasn't going to mention anything about Jam Master Jay being killed because, well, everyone else will be. Two things changed that. One, watching the long-delayed telecast of the MTV Awards last night with Run DMC up on stage, which, combined with the TLC appearance, was pretty poignant; and two, the fucking goobers at Channel 7 deciding to end their annoucement of his death this morning with, "This was the third murder of a hip-hop star in six years." I got so angry when they said this. For fuck's sake, they didn't even try to look at what kind of group Run DMC were as opposed to Tupac and Biggie. Maybe it is connected to the east-coast/west-coast bullshit. I haven't read up on enough of Run DMC's involvement in all that. But I'm pretty damn sure Channel 7 haven't either, so I don't think they should be automatically making that connectoin with the death of a fucking music pioneer who was around way before either Tupac or Biggie or gangster-rap.

So, for what it's worth, my two favourite Run DMC memories: 1987, year six camp, in the bus on the way to camp, this kid Ross had a boom box and he played "Walk This Way" over and over, with all the kids on the bus singing along with all the words, and it was then that I was just starting to really get into music and everything I heard was magic, but this was pretty fucking special indeed. Second moment, Summer 1997/98, doing Entertainment for O-Week, and it seemed like "It's Like That" was on every radio in the city and driving around in the UNSW Union van with Fi, who has trouble stopping at red lights, and shrieking laughing and singing along with this song.

2002-11-01T08:42:00.000+10:00

I got a cab home yesterday, what with carrying a huge box filled with the two magazines, seven books, one dvd, two videos, two posters and ONE HUNDRED FUCKING CDs I've kept at work in the past 2 1/2 years. I mentioned to the cab driver that I would be paying with cabcharge, and he (being the older, full of jokes-style cab driver) called back, "Cabcharge? Sure! I accept anything but blows!" I just stared at him, trying to figure out if was actually talking about blow-jobs, but not knowing what else he might mean. I think he realised I was a bit freaked out, so he said, "you know, blows! Hitting me! You can't pay me by hitting me!"

2002-10-30T15:16:00.000+10:00

I'm sorry. I can't imagine I'll do any useful blogging (if ever I did) for a while. Like the recent posts, they will be hastly jotted observations and details on what I did on my weekend (again, as if that's new). I'd like to be more thoughtful, but all my thoughts are being corralled in an attempt not to develop full-blown depression about work. My kung-fu psychologist tells me that you need to feel bad for two whole weeks before it can even be nearly classified as depression. But what if it's eight hours a day, five days a week? I've got to hold out til December, and then if all goes to plan, only for another two months after that. That's still three months away, and I'm starting to get boring.

Here's a fun fact about me, just to make this post less teen-angst: When I was in year three (8 years old), my teacher told my mum I had a different excuse for not doing my homework every day. I don't think my mum was aware I had homework at that age, which possibly could have compounded the problem. Obviously my teacher failed to appreciate the creative well-spring that these lies were spewing from. I should have gone to one of those Steiner schools. But then I wouldn't have enjoyed the glorious spectre that is liturgical dancing.

Oh my God I'm having hysterics. While I was looking at search results on liturgical dancing I found this splendid article on liturgical dancing aerobics. It's just the cutest thing I've read in a long time. Check out these choice quotes, from devotees of "Sweatin' with the Spirit":

We teach all the basics of liturgical dance," said Reen. "When to stretch, when to extend your hand out, and when to do a few quick running steps." (I'm picturing it in my head right now. It'd help if the participants were dressed in leotards with long ribbons in their hair).

William Stanton, whose discovery of liturgical aerobics has helped his flexibility after a stroke - "I can even lift that bowl of hot spoke over my head now" (what bowl of hot spoke?).

Ted Braski, a retired automotive worker and recent liturgical dancer. "I was sick of hearing my wife's voice nagging me to get off the couch and fix this or go do that. Then I heard about liturgical dancing. I asked Glenn if it involved a partner. He said no. I said you've got yourself one liturgical dancer!"

From Helen Merrow: "I like it because it makes me feel like a ballerina. I feel like a ballerina. When I dance for God, I feel like a ballerina."

And just to make certain Seattle chicks happy in their time of need, the mastermind behind it all is inspired by Richard Simmons!

2002-10-28T15:04:00.000+10:00

I also had a weird moment yesterday. I was bored, so went to see The Bourne Identity by myself, and in the middle of the film I got a nose bleed, which never ever happens. I'd just gone to the bathroom, so didn't really want to miss any more of the film, so I just found a tissue and stuffed it up my nose and hoped for the best. I was convinced that when the house lights came up people would look up to see me sitting in my chair with my face covered in blood, but it fortunately wasn't that bad. I'm half-convinced I've got a brain tumour, tho'.

2002-10-28T14:57:00.000+10:00

Went to a lunch meeting today. To a seafood restaurant. I don't eat seafood. No, not even calamari. Or king prawns either. Or fish fingers. The closest I'll get is oyster sauce in a stirfry. So today, at lunch, my options were chicken or steak. Not really being a steak girl, I order chicken, which is, let's face it, what I mostly eat anyway. Five minutes later the guy comes back with, "sorry, we have no chicken." So I have to eat a t-bone steak. For lunch. I feel all carnivorous.

2002-10-28T11:34:00.000+10:00

On the weekend: Saw Donnie Darko.
Next weekend: Watch Donnie Darko again.

2002-10-25T14:36:00.000+10:00

Oh my God things are insane around here. We're moving offices soon, and I have twice the volume of work to get through before the move. I'm starting to get that feeling, you know, when your boss hasn't done any of their own packing, and even though everyone's been explicitly told to do their own office packing, I just know us schleps will get lumped with it in addition to all our own stuff. But I will be strong and say no. Really, I will.

My eldest sister got her driver's licence. Now I'm the only one in the family who can't drive. Well, with the exception of my dad, of course, but it was the Parkinsons that stopped his long and stellar driving career. Me, I just suck.

2002-10-25T09:32:00.000+10:00

I read this article in The Independant, detailing how "Grief is being expropriated and commandeered to remember only the 'lost innocence' of Australia". Oh man, so much of it made me angry, it's been a while since I read a bigger load of bullshit. If I can be bothered later, I might go through all the things that are wrong, but really, anyone who's been in Australia in the last two weeks would plainly see all the horrendous errors in her article. I'll just say one thing - the last fucking thing we need in this country is Geoffrey Fucking Robertson bitching about Australia from his comfortable home in London. And that goes twice for you, Germaine. (Via Crikey, who are, of course, worth subscribing to)

2002-10-24T15:53:00.000+10:00

In an article linked to the previous one about another crocodile attack, this time by one at least 5 metres, comes this beautiful quote.

Mr Luscombe said he had been asked what crocodile hunter Steve Irwin would have done in that situation.
"He would have shit himself the same as I did," he said.

2002-10-24T15:45:00.000+10:00

"About 9pm, a group of us decided to go swimming." Not meaning to make light of a tragedy, but why???????? Most people would think twice about swimming in a pool in the night up there, let along a billabong.

2002-10-24T14:40:00.000+10:00

I had a fantastic writing class last night. I got back my biography assignment, which was marked with an almightily high mark, but of course I don't know if my lecturer is just a high marker because it's a writing class and so more subjective and I couldn't very well run around saying, "ooh, I did really well, let's compare marks!". But it was pleasing neverthless. I also had to give a class presentation on one of my favourite non-fiction writers, which went quite well, despite the massive printing emergency I had pre-class. It's a fairly passive class, so there wasn't much feedback, but then a girl actually told me the book sounded awesome after what I read from it and wrote about it, so that was nice. And then, to top the night off, I told the obnoxious baby boomer (and only guy) in the class that his long diatribe about a teenager observed on a train obviously being one "extacy party" away from death was judgemental and not particularly insightful and merely reflected his age and lack of knowledge of his subject. Yay me, defender of teens! And now I'm off to an extacy party!

2002-10-23T16:05:00.000+10:00

Here's a moral dilemma for you. I'm a week into my non-drinking month. Now, I went to two parties on Saturday night, and while they were fun and all, I think I didn't have as good a time as I would have had I been free to have a few bevvies. Given that I'm possibly going to see a band on Friday night and then onto the lovely late-night drinking establishments of the Newtown area do I; (a) face the possibility I may be an alcoholic and get all pious on everyone's ass? or (b) fall off the wagon in a Bon Jovi-style blaze of glory and get pissed? or (c) play it by ear and don't fear the reaper/barman?

2002-10-22T12:44:00.000+10:00

NUS Victoria are acting like a bunch of goons. The most suprising part about this article, which quotes NUS officers actually blaming John Howard for the shooting at Monash Uni yesterday, is that it's so unsuprising. I long ago ceased to be astonished at the tripe certain student activists would come up with. I think this must be some kind of record for drawing a very long bow, however. (via Gareth Parker)

2002-10-18T15:28:00.000+10:00

Oh yeah, one last comment on last Tuesday night. The most disappointing part of the ceremony for me was that Paul Mac didn't thank the ecstacy dealers, like he did back in the early 90s as part of Itchy and Scratchy.

2002-10-18T12:04:00.000+10:00

OK people! This is the episode of Rage we have all been waiting for (well, I have anyway). Saturday night, The Foo Fighters will be choosing their favorite videos, and then every Foo Fighters and Nirvana clip will be played. Here's the play list. This is a fucking keeper.

2002-10-18T10:35:00.000+10:00

Tribute in the Domain on Sunday, for Sydney-siders. It's been declared a national day of mourning.

2002-10-18T10:04:00.000+10:00

The Red Cross Bali appeal. There are lots of ways to donate.

2002-10-18T10:01:00.000+10:00

What the hell's going on? I am still feeling the after-effects of Tuesday night! What the fuck is wrong with me?

2002-10-17T10:34:00.000+10:00

Hmm, feeling much better today, thanks. Although my stomach is still reminding me that if I abuse it, it will make me pay. I took two Kwells and went to be at 8:30 last night. Also, not so much with the feeling sorry for myself today. Which is a good thing, as I don't like being all bad-moody, Despite being a Cancerian and much given to bouts of moodiness.

So, two parties on Saturday night will be the first challenge to my Sober October vow. I will succeed!

Applications for next year's course are due in tomorrow. Fingers and toes crossed.

2002-10-16T16:23:00.000+10:00

I am not drinking for a month. At least. It's not even one of those hangovers where you think, "yeah, but it was worth it". It is literally feeling on the verge of spewing all day and wishing like hell I'd stayed on one type of drink or alternated drinks or didn't sit there all night barely letting the glasses leave my lips. So, I had a great time, but the last hour or so sucked because I was too pissed to act, rather than just react. It's weird because I have a pretty well-developed alcohol meter and usually no matter how pissed I am I don't write myself off. I had so many conversations with people I knew where I'm sure nothing I said made any sense. The worst part is that I think I drank too much cause I was feeling a bit unsure of myself. If I'd gone with friends I think it might have been different.

2002-10-15T11:52:00.000+10:00

I'm such a nerd. I'm getting nervous about tonight. I'm all frocked up and ready to rock.

2002-10-15T09:39:00.000+10:00

Tim Blair's coverage of the Bali attacks is probably the most comprehensive online.