robot.simone

Breathe in for luck

2011-10-01T21:12:00.000+09:30

Relief. For the last couple of weeks, this immense feeling of relief has built inside me (can relief build?). I didn't realise what it was, until today. It was just a vague happiness that occasionally bubbled over into random laughter and puzzled people around me ("Why are you so happy today?").

I just don't have to worry any more. I'm so over worrying, about Joe finding a job, about finding a house to live in, about the dog having enough space, about the cat and dog being okay with the move, about finding somewhere to stay before Joe could move over, about the drive over, about my job here, about getting to work, about saying goodbye to people, about people's expectations of us returning to Adelaide for Christmas or other events, about making friends, about beinig pressured into buying a house, about whether or not to have kids, about money, about what other people think. All these things I've been worried about in some way for the six months, and now that they're out of the way - well imagine the relief. I have so much more space in my mind without those things buzzing around in there, so much more energy.

I can take the time to really enjoy everything about this new life, new city, new home. And I am loving it - everything, from the busy streets and highways in town, to the view from my building at work, running between platforms to change trains, the bridges, the restaurants and bars, the parks, the funny suburb names, the shops (the clothes! the shoes!!!), there is so much that people are so used to, that I'm seeing with bright new eyes and really appreciating. There hasn't been a single day when I've thought it was a bad idea to move, or wondered if we've done the right thing.

Where we live plays a big part in this as well. If we'd moved to a boring suburb, way out of town, even the equivalent of where we lived in Adelaide, I can't imagine I'd be enjoying it half as much. But Newtown is busy, vibrant, alternative, it has great places to eat and a main street that is never quiet. There's no equivalent in Adelaide, so I really feel like I've made a huge move. I understand how people who have lived in Sydney their whole lives could be sick of it, but for now, it suits me just fine.

I slap the water and watch the fish dance to the ripples of us

2011-08-08T21:35:00.000+09:30

So much of life is lived and shared in little bits and pieces. How do we choose what to tell people and what to keep to ourselves? There seems to be some invisible line, some kind of barrier where we close up and keep it all inside, but who can really say where to draw the line?

Making new friends, being in a different place, it seems like I'm constantly feeling out where these lines and barriers should be. I teeter on the edge of telling people way too much information, and then to other people, I barely speak a word about what's inside. Is it the people? Is it the situations? Maybe it's something to do with not knowing what the hell is going on and being scared to give the same answers over and over. Yes, moving house soon, Yes very exciting, No husband doesn't have a job yet, He works in IT in a law firm, Yes loving Sydney, Yes rent is expensive. Am I just a terrible person if I would prefer to shut up than say such boring answers to inane questions?

Then I go the other way entirely. Sitting in someone's office talking about the dynamics of missing people, who you miss and when, whether I'm an awful person simply for being able to say goodbye to all my friends and family with 2 weeks notice of when I'm leaving. This random intimacy, and why? Does it go both ways? In a way I think so, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm just a silly little girl voicing her thoughts to whoever she thinks will listen.

Moving interstate and spending 6 weeks away from my husband is definitely an unpredictable experience. I've never felt such a mixture of independence, impatience for things to happen, of missing someone but throwing all that spare energy and time into work. I'm looking forward to being settled, now the first hurdle of finding a new home is cleared, and we're lining up for the next three - packing up the house, saying goodbye, and the final drive over to Sydney. But I'm apprehensive as well, about upcoming hurdles, and how we will re-integrate into each other's lives, lived separately now for so many weeks. How will we fit in a small house, without the network of friends and family so close by?

I like to live by the general rule that everything works out okay in the end. So even considering these things is irrelevant. But you know I worry, and never about things that matter. Just watch. In 2 weeks time, we'll be perfectly fine, and nobody will ever know that I sat here, wondering if the nicest person in the world (face it, have you met Joe?) will still really like me, 6 weeks on.

If I told you that I knew about the sun and the moon, I'd be untrue.

2011-05-25T17:05:00.000+09:30

I think I'm beginning to finally come to terms with something.

I'm a science person.

I'm good with numbers and facts and processes and rules. I'm good at dissecting things, solving problems, and working quietly until it's done. I'm rational (mostly) and can (again, mostly) step back and look at things from other people's points of view.

And this is why I will never be an artist.

I was fine learning to play piano, until I had to do different things with each hand (is that called syncoupation? Someone told me that once but I've always been unsure). I could follow the notes - or, more accurately, I would memorise the notes (as A, B, C, D, etc), but I could never get two hands to do two notes or chords at the same time. I think this has something to do with my 8-year-old brain not being able to memorise two sets of notes, one for each hand.

The entire concept of making music is foreign to me. How can you imagine how it will sound? I can't even get my voice to sound like it should. Seriously, I listen to music, sing along, and my voice is completely wrong. For every song. Ever written.

But musicians, composers, most of the people I know - you all do this so magically! I imagine that you see the world as flowing notes, with a constant background of new sounds, sometimes flowing smoothly behind your thoughts, other times crashing to the surface so you can think of nothing else but getting it down somehow, grabbing the sounds, teasing them out of your mind using any instrument you have nearby - even if it's a tune hummed furtively in the middle of the night, in a quiet corner of the house, into your own voicemail so you remember to listen to it later. How brilliant life must be, like that.

Music entrances me, at times. But I can't make it, any more than I can make a cat, or a tree, or a planet. It's a foreign beauty to be admired, and touched, and obsessed over, but never really understood.

I've been counting on the wrong things, to make life feel alright

2011-05-06T18:06:00.001+09:30

I had assumed that the next step was to have a baby.

Basically, I need something to look forward to and to occupy my time. Knitting jumpers is only interesting in short bursts, I've never had huge career aspirations, and I don't have any artistic or musical talent. Recently married, fairly financially stable, prime baby-having age, sure this seems like the right next step.

I mean, it's hormones, yes? Every time I think of having a child (not giving birth, that is still mystical/revolting/to be glossed over), I feel like it's a great plan. Like I was born to be a mother. I love cooking and being domestic! I can knit tiny jumpers, sew tiny quilts! Then, when the child is older, I can be a cool mum who knows how to make costumes for parties and cakes for bake sales. Maybe I could be on the PTA. Who knows? All I am fairly sure of is that I would be awesome at it. Maybe not all of it, but that's why there are Dads, because they fill in the gap where Mums aren't so great at things.

So for the last few months, it has been normal to categorise and then imagine future events as either "Pregnant" or "Mum".
For example:

Next graduation (work) = Pregnant. Bugger, have to find a nice maternity dress.
Next christmas = Mum. No, wait, Pregnant. Ok, can expect baby presents.
Next birthday = Mum. Nobody will care, the baby will be new and it'll be all about him/her.
Next holiday = Mum. Ooh taking a baby on a plane? Hopefully it's well behaved.
Next Christmas party = Pregnant.
Buying a house = Mum.
Moving house = Mum.
Next Oktoberfest party = Pregnant.

It's basically just the way I think now.

But what if there's another option? Something that shifts my view of what's next? Something that would occupy me and not require me to short-term lease my insides to a small, needy human being? I think something may have come up.

Maybe I can stop thinking about stretchy pants.

For now, anyway...

I drank too much

2010-10-18T19:14:00.002+10:30

This is for you.

Last Saturday night, I drank too much. My drunkness radiated out from me in a poisonous cloud. It affected people I know and do not know. Some people got hit with flying drunken shrapnel. To quote James, "Simone, you were so fucked up, Chernobyl got jealous."

I don't start my weekend with this in mind. In fact, the idea of social events fills me with dread. My first reaction is generally to try and think of something else I have to do that day, and failing that, I hide behind the cat.

Because he is smaller than me, and has no real way to hide me from social obligations, I end up going out.
I even make an effort to look nice. So... a glass of wine, yep, sounds like a good idea. I'll have one.

I make attempts at inane conversation, even though my mind frantically tries to trip me up.

I end up telling stories that really aren't funny, interesting, or even relevant. My care factor declines.

...have another drink.

Now is probably my optimum level of drunkness. We're about 3-4 drinks in. My self confidence is high, the damage I can inflict is low. Still have the ability to stop talking. This is it - this is where it should all end.

But someone says, tequila! And I say, sure! That sounds absolutely swell!

2 seconds later:

You may recognise that face.....
Anyway, from here on, my judgement is somewhat impaired.

We are now entering the DANGER ZONE! Yes, DANGER ZONE, DANGER ZONE!! D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-DANGER ZONE!!!
This is where it all starts to go horribly wrong.
It's where I say things like:
"Sure! I'll walk you to that bar, even though I don't know who you are!"
"A tray of shots would be great!"
"I'll be there in 2 minutes, sure!"
"TAKE A PHOTO OF MY SEXY FACE!"
"I love Cog! COG!! No I didn't say cock! COG!"

There is sure to be maximum facebook/twitter/SMS terror.

Dancing.

....more dancing.

Around this stage, I start believing that I am the sexiest thing to ever grace the planet.

My grip on reality becomes more tenuous. Basic skills like holding a drink and dancing become more difficult.

I pull this face, for this photo, on average 600 times a night.

Parts of my outfit disappear.

I am pure unadulterated dancefloor terror. Run screaming if you see me.

Then... and this doesn't always happen, but if I'm not suitably distracted... something breaks.

I become totally convinced that everybody in the world hates me. Like someone pulled out a plug and all my self confidence washes down a sink.

My friends reassure me that it's not so bad, nobody hates me, it's all going to be fine. I clearly do not believe them.

Until I am distracted once more. At this stage, my attention span is that of a hyperactive 4 year old.

Here are some common moves of mine in this 4-5am timeframe:
1. I WANNA BE IN A BAND I AM SO COOL!! (though I usually don't have an actual guitar with me)

2. Take a photo, I am so sexy!

3. Your hair is awesome, it would be both hilarious and not at all awkward if i can share it!!

4. LET'S SWAP PANTS! MY TINY SHORTS WILL TOTALLY FIT YOU!!!

5. My hair is wet! Who knows how that even happened when we are inside a bar and it's not raining?!

6. Time to call someone who is probably at home in bed, and mess up their night! (please if ever I call you, answer then hang up right away. Do not under any circumstances allow it to go to voicemail. I will sing/cry/scream/say really random stuff that I will not remember anything about the next day!).

7. It's time for a new facebook profile photo! Of me! Looking haawwwt!!!

Pretty much, I am queen of the 4am universe. Nothing can stand between me and full on social terror. It shouldn't be allowed. I should learn to grow up. People should never buy me drinks/allow me to use my phone. I should not be allowed to communicate.
But.... I feel like queen of the world! Nothing can hurt me! Nobody can stop me!!

Until the bar closes. And I wander off home...
to continue the terror by sending drunk messages whilst brushing my teeth or laying in bed (as cold as an icicle).

(that one above is my absolute favourite photo from this whole thing)
So... then we come to the next day.
Which invariably starts with me waking up thinking "oh fk fk fk fk fk fk everybody hates me because I am a dick"
Or, I wake up thinking "lalalalalala I feel so good!!" (this is usually when I'm still drunk)
Anyway, I try to function normally, but inside am pretty much like this:

(note: i am not naked, didn't realise it looked like that, oops)

So eventually I piece things together. Last Sunday, that was particularly hard. I have a huge gap in my memory from about 10:30pm until 2am. There are bits and pieces I remember, like who I sat with, spoke to. The one thing that I really managed to put together though, is that I owe a bunch of people apologies.

Lots of people have already received theirs personally. For everyone else, here is me looking sheepish, and saying sorry.

Although, I'll probably do it again.

So, this is for you. Anyone who has been drunk-terrorised by me, or worried for my safety, or even vaguely amused/sickened sitting at home watching it all on facebook. This isn't just for last weekend, but for the last year.

Joe, Spoz, Jade, Jess, Shane B, Shane R, Johandre, Mathias, Nick, Shamus, Flynn (yes, I even get people who don't know me!), James, Lental, Dylan, Paul K, Erin and Liam, various people at Supermild, every girl who wanted to talk to Spoz who I scared away, the guy whose drumstick I stole and promised to return but never did, my family should they EVER discover this, taxi drivers everywhere, and anyone else I forgot to mention.

I love you all for loving (or at least liking, okay let's go for not hating) me. Despite my bad judgement.

9:45pm update - as people remind me of other 'affected persons':
Apology also goes to Alice, Ruby (the person), Ruby (the dog), someone called Carli, Andrew, Johandre (again!!), everybody's girlfriend/wife on the night i wore that fluffy lacy skirt with the fishnets, Sam, Aaron, the bar staff at shotz and the cranker (for years of terror), the guy with the ferrari t-shirt, Devil, Devil's friends, inspector gadget.

It is surprisingly hard to list all the people I've harassed, as even when really drunk I am able to delete sent messages from my phone and from facebook, thus attempting to fool my sober self the next day.

I never really got there; I just pretended that I had

2010-10-18T10:27:00.000+10:30

Do you ever feel that if you stop thinking about something, it will go away? If you stop actively remembering and feeling something, the emotion will fade? If I dream about something good, I will obsessively remember it all day. I will sit and think about it until it's so tightly in my mind that I have trouble separating the dream from reality. I'll hold onto it and nurture it and relive it a thousand times.

I do the same with real experiences. I relive them in my mind, trying to keep them alive somehow. Like forgetting about them will mean they never happened.

I am fairly sure this is why I'm still angry at my brother. I can't forget about what he has done, I can't pretend it never happened. Everyone else seems to have forgotten and moved on, it's just me now. I have to remember his mistakes. They were malicious. Calculated to hurt people. Done with absolutely no regard for all the people who cared for him. How can people forget that?

If nobody remembers something, does that mean it effectively never happened? Are we all forgiven, based not on making a difference, atoning for our sins, but based on the fact that nobody really thinks about it any more?

You breathed, and then you stopped

2010-10-07T08:35:00.000+10:30

Do you ever stop to think just how much noise you're making?

How much of what you say really needs to be said? How often do you ask a question when you already know the answer? Are you talking because you have something to say, something to share, something that makes a difference, or are you talking just to fill a space, make a noise, get some attention?

I like tuning out. Stopping listening. Being quiet. But people misunderstand - they think I'm angry, or upset, or that something is wrong. Nothing's wrong, I'm just quiet.

Nothing is ever quiet inside my head. Every waking moment I'm thinking and assessing and recalculating and imagining. It's good to have some kind of task to focus on, but after a while I just can't pay attention.

Having constant noise hurts so much. It's hard enough to think without the sound of car after car after car driving past, of loud televisions, of creaking doors. Sure, look at me like I'm crazy when I jump up to prop open a door that's being slowly pushed closed by a breeze. Tell me I'm whinging about the traffic noise. But you try to think with all that going on! All that unnecessary noise.

It's not the same as wanting people to shut up. Talking, chattering, music, kids playing, animals running around, that all has some kind of purpose to it.

But I like the quiet. For a few moments, anyway. It just makes it easier to follow what's going on inside, and slow it down a bit.

You know he's here but he ain't gonna stay.

2010-09-14T18:49:00.001+09:30

I have wanted to perform since I was a child.

I used to take ballet classes, and each year, everyone in the school was in the concert. Everyone had to have a costume made - patterns were designed, fabrics were chosen, millions of sequins sewn on by hand. My mum made mine for a couple of years but then had one of the dressmakers that the school used sew them for her - it was hours of work. The ballet teacher - I can't believe there was only one lady who taught everyone - would choreograph entire stories with the help of the older dancers, those who were really gifted and had studied dance for years. I wasn't particularly good at dancing, but I would practice and practice, and sitting backstage in my makeup and hairspray I could never be still, waiting impatiently to be able to step out onto the stage and be watched.

So now, 20 years later, I want that feeling again. It's not sudden. I've known about it. But it's there, and it's eating away at me. I am surrounded by people who are artistic, who have some talent. Musicians, artists, photographers, even dancers. People who can really do something. And I sit here, and dream.

I dream of singing. Of being on a stage with a microphone, a band behind me, an audience in front. Of laughing and dancing and interacting. Of being watched, wanted, admired. I don't want to write the songs, I don't want to write the music. I just want to be up there.

I want to yell. I want to scream. I want to take it all out on something that gives back to me.

It's a shame I can't sing. Can't dance. Can't act. Can't do much, really. No particular talents. No actual career. No huge desire to do anything achievable.

Just an overwhelming desire to collapse and say "it's all too hard today."

With people watching.

Confusion surrounds me, I know that I must let go

2010-08-28T19:22:00.000+09:30

I dreamed you wanted to die, your face was all cut up and bleeding, you had just enough rope to jump off the side.

But I got there in time, and kissed you, and took the rope off you, and it was all better.

I just have no idea who you are.

Dreams of war

2010-08-25T19:52:00.003+09:30

Tonight's wish list:
- hot chocolate
- hot bath
- clean sheets
- fluffy pillow
- company
- hugs
- kisses
- snooze
- sleep in (for tomorrow)

Is it messing with your mind, kid?

2010-08-18T18:53:00.002+09:30

The other day I came across a word I like - Apophenia.

It means, basically, seeing patterns in things because your brain conveniently blocks out things that don't fit the pattern. Isn't that just the normal state for some people? Most people? All of us?

We're made to do it. Rumour has it our own eyes and ears block out 90%+ of visual and aural stimulation, because our brains can't handle it. So it would follow that our brains block out inconvenient information, because our egos can't handle it.

I think sometimes I feel worst when this inbuilt barrier breaks down. The days where I don't want to move, don't want to talk to anyone, don't want to open my eyes, are those days where I look at the whole truth, not just the convenient parts that fit the pattern I want to see. It makes sense now that I think about it; who would really want to see everything? It's the same reason we don't expect people to always tell the whole truth, why we don't ask our friends how they see us, why after a few years with someone you don't ask if they would still be attracted to you if you only just met.

So how do we decide what to see, and what not to see? Is it a matter of instinct, choosing to see the safest path? Or is it some model we're taught to follow, to see the bits of life that fit together to make what we're all supposed to be (loving partner, kids, house, death)? Or is it really and truly our own minds, just taking life in and selectively presenting it to us, a tasting plate of all that there is on offer, a bit of sadness and a bit of hope, a bit of love and a bit of hate.

It affects every day. Look in the mirror, see the whole truth of what's there. Every freckle, every pore, every hair, in every blink look for every lash. Is that beauty? Is it too close to be beautiful, or is it beautiful because it's not hidden? Look closer, why is beauty craved? Because we filter out the ugly, the forgettable, the plain, along with everything else that's inconvenient.

I have a fear of being ignored.

What a way to go... still running for a bus that we missed years ago.

2010-08-04T19:07:00.004+09:30

Or, my second interview with Flynn Gower.
He didn't know it was an interview.

There was something about the night. A strange feeling. Kind of like we knew something that the crowd in general didn't, but something that they felt. Through the afternoon I'd been thinking, if this is the last time they play here, what would I want them to know? Why was this my favourite band, and why did I feel like I had to tell them? Why did I think they would care, why would it matter, how am I in any way different to everyone else?

I didn't mean to like them. It happened by chance. I was lingeringly single, as I liked to call it... not rushing to find someone new, but flirting with the idea of meeting new people. So a friend at work with similar music taste offered to buy extra tickets to some upcoming shows, and one of those was the Shihad/Cog Homeland Security tour. In preparation, I started listening to their music, and was enthralled. I was angry that I'd never heard them before. I was anxious to compare their live show to their recordings - I didn't truly believe that three musicians could reproduce the sound, I didn't understand enough about music. I started listening every day.

I saw them. I didn't stop thinking about the music, I looked more into it, I devoured everything they could give me. From then on, I knew I'd found my Favourite Band.

I love human connection. To me, things aren't real until you've touched them, tasted them, found out how they work. The band was Australian, and to me, that meant they were close enough to reach out and touch. I came up with a few bands to interview for a friend's zine, and although they didn't nearly fit the genre, I added Cog in there.

In conversation with their agent, I declined a few phone interview opportunities, and stood my ground until I got the answer I wanted - "you can meet Flynn before their upcoming show in Adelaide. This is their manager's phone number. Call him on the day to confirm a time."

I still have that number, somewhere. I wrote it down.

So, I got my chance to touch and taste and smell and hear and see them as people. To sit in and nervously wait, drink one vodka with pineapple juice way too fast, to finally make something that was a recording, was three guys on a stage separated from me by a cage of sound equipment, into something human.

A text message I sent to a friend while I was waiting: "Flynn Gower just walked past me. HE SMELLS GOOD. Aaaaaargh I'm dying." I also noticed how tall he is. And I laughed when I realised that I was noticing this, and it still makes me laugh - two days before this show, I had met Joe. This, and the fact that I had really incredibly bad hair, and was sunburned, and would have been unable to seduce my way out of a paper bag, and my general reticence to be seen as the same as all the others, stopped me from turning a band I loved into an indulgent crush on a singer.

Well, partly, anyway.

From there, its all a bit of history. There's nothing I haven't told before. It's a long, drawn-out love affair with the words and sounds that three people put together in a way that made me fall in love with something intangible.

Like any long love affair, we had ups and downs. Music has changed in my life; I can't remember the last time I put on a CD. Years of working to background music I hated made me appreciate silence. But every now and then I find myself just curled up on the bed with my ipod, closing my eyes and falling into the music again. Other bands have come close, I admit that other bands are better musicians, but it's that combination of their music, the time it represents for me, the stories told, and the human connection that pulls me back.

A cold night in June this year, I felt a certain sense of foreboding as I took the tram with Joe, Jeremy and Aubrey to the Gov. Joking about what songs we wanted to hear (I knew my wish for Just Visiting wouldn't come true), and then later on when I won the bet on what their first song would be, I just wanted to absorb it all. Take it all in. It was the end.

I once decided with a boyfriend that we should break up. Not wanting to, we threw an all-weekend party, to celebrate the decision we'd made while simultaneously putting it off. This was like that, just without the drugs and with way better music.

After the show, we stood around chatting with War for a while, and the joke/suggestion was made that I needed to get a new photograph with Flynn - the original one from years ago looks like I'm giving him a hand job under the table (I wasn't). So began my second interview with Flynn Gower. I stuck my head in the back room, and smiled hesitantly before War and Flynn waved me in. I did my best to ignore (or at least not laugh out loud at) Joe's ex girlfriend band-whoring it up on the couch with Lucius ("there's noooo vodka left! Oh no! gigglegiglgleigieigggle") . I got the updated photo, though this one is blurry and I look so uncomfortable (trying not to pull a bad face, trying not to cry and scream and kick and sob and hug and shiver and faint).

Rather than an interview, it was more that I just told him embarassing stories. And marvelled that he was such a nice guy that not only did he remember meeting me years before, but he remembered my hair was shorter then, and commented that it was better now. Offered me beer. Was generally a good host. I discovered:
- he would think, if he met a girl with a cat called Texas, that it was a pretty good name for a cat.
- his dog is epileptic.
- he needs help with life (to which I replied, "I'm good with life").
- he bought a leather jacket in london that makes him look like a pilot.
- one of their crew had to leave early the next day for a bowling match that was cancelled (the way that I know this person is named Jeb Bales, and why his boarding pass is in my posession, is a story for another time).

And then, so soon, it was over, with a hug and a kiss, and I knew it was over, that all that was left was what I had already, that no new words would come, no more laughing backstage, nothing left but the pictures and the recordings.

It took me a day to realise. Then it sunk in, and I think I cried for it, in the shower or when I was alone, sometime and place that nobody would know. They are just a band. It's just music. On the inside I cried and kicked and screamed and curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor, banged my fists against the wall, begged the universe to turn back the clock because I just wasn't ready.

On the outside I probably just looked kind of sad for a while.

Fridgecat

2010-06-03T18:33:00.002+09:30

Stuff is up.

The cat, for example. He's been jumping onto the fridge. Sure, no problem if we had a bar fridge or something, but this is quite a big fridge with no other furniture near it. How is he getting up there? How did we end up with a cat who is incredibly naughty, and a dog who is well behaved?

Tomorrow, the wedding is exactly six months away. Six months! We're still so relaxed about it. I switch between thinking "it's fine, it'll all go well, nothing to worry about" and "why does one day have to be so expensive, big, expensive, important, expensive, perfectly planned, and, well, expensive?" It's straining me trying to separate what's traditional/expected/normal/included, and what will reflect us as a couple, each of us individually, and our plans for the future. I'm happy with everything we've chosen so far, but there's a huge list of things to do. I am considering a ban on any new bridal magazines, as every time I read one, I just get swamped with more ideas and get a little worried when I read the checklists that say I should have started some kind of beauty regime, had a hair styling trial, ordered bridesmaids dresses, and considered plastic surgery (really! this is in some lists!!) by now.

I want to be me on the day. Some kind of mix of a stunning dress (I love dressing up), hair that will go messy (I can't keep it neat), coloured eyeshadow and nailpolish (when do I ever wear nude tones?), smiles, loving my family and friends, and probably totally unable to relax (do I ever relax?). I'm going to do my own makeup and hair. I'm going to spend the morning decorating the venue with Joe, and spend the afternoon getting ready with friends.

I am making some Bride Rules, just in case I am tempted to succumb to the Bridezilla instinct:

No spray tans
No dermabrasion/weird facials
no underwear that sucks/squashes/bends you into shape
no stretch hummers at the wedding
No telling bridesmaids what kind of shoes to wear (unless asked for advice!)
No inspecting people's fingernails pre-wedding to make sure they're clean (I heard of someone who did this...it's just weird!!)
No demanding
No false nails
No shoes that cost more than $200
No buying special luggage just for the honeymoon
No dictating what people have to wear/look like/do
No soppy songs that I don't like, just because you're meant to have them

I'm sure there will be more to add... but it's a start.

I get jokes

2010-03-10T19:34:00.002+10:30

Really, I get jokes... just not very good at making them.

I'm sitting in a room in front of a computer, with the window open behind and to one side of the computer monitor, and the cat beside me, watching birds out the window.

The room is in a house, I can hear the tv on in one room, and the washing machine in its spin cycle in another room. Occasionally I hear the dog moving around - she's wearing 2 collars today and they jingle.

Outside the house I can hear birds in the backyard, and see them fly past the window in the evening light. Plenty of dry grass and seeds in our backyard for them to scrounge for food in. I can hear cars pass on the road out the front. The wind is blowing the trees around in the backyard.

Across the other side of town, Joe is at band practice, probably eating right now, otherwise playing guitar. I made his lunch today; the container will be rinsed and in his bag, in the car, in the driveway, on the other side of town.

Now the cat has moved, he's on my lap, he smells of fur and meat, his paws are pointy, I can feel him purring through my stomach, which he is leaning on.

The washing is nearly done... time for me to stop wasting time on here, in front of the screen, so close to the window.

Girls vs Boys

2009-09-23T13:18:00.002+09:30

Watching Oprah today, at home feeling sick, they were discussing a 12 year old girl sending a 12 year old boy a text message about wanting to kiss him, and go to 'second base' (stoopid americans). The mother of the boy did not know whether to contact the parents of the girl to let them know about these messages.

Aside from the fact that THEY ARE ONLY 12!!! (which Oprah seemed to ignore), they discussed what would the parent do if they discovered a boy sending a girl the same messages.... Sadly the answers were way stricter, and I wonder why.

Girls are born predators. We know we can get what we want. We are devious and cunning and due in part to a feeling of being hard done-by (oh we get paid less, we get objectified, cry cry cry) believe we are entitled to more than is ever first offered. If I think of all the relationships I've been in, only one was the result of someone else pursuing me... in all other cases it's been me making the first moves (and for the record, that one only lasted a couple of months).

Sure guys have penises, which really are the last word in taking what you want, but when it comes to everything up to that point, I'd be more afraid of the girls.

I'd buy that for a dollar

2009-09-04T23:47:00.002+09:30

Oh man, my brain just won't stop!

I think I live in some kind of mental fantasy land. Seriously, so much going on in there has little or no basis in reality. Is it some kind of latent ADHD?? Do I have multiple personalities? Sociopathic? Is everyone like this? Tell me, do you imagine every possible outcome of a situation like the strands of parallel universes, drifting further and further away from reality until you're imagining yourself in a totally different life?

Today I looked in the mirror and saw a manic gleam in my eye. True story.

Simone vs The Universe

2009-08-31T11:28:00.002+09:30

Looking back on the last month or two, I've been a bit self destructive. Maybe not just a bit. But something switched or triggered and all of a sudden it's been Simone against the universe. Everything was wrong, everything is horrible. It's like a totally undiagnosed and no-basis-in-medical-reality bipolarism. The highest of highs and the ugliest of lows. I can only imagine that living with me must be horrible (sorry Joe, Ruby, Texas).

Most of it's coming from inside, which in the long run is going to be harder to fix than the physical damage. The habit of negative, self-hating thought is going to take a while to break, and I'm too cynical to believe that saying encouraging positive phrases to myself every day is going to do anything. I just need to fix the things that make me think badly. Sounds so easy.

I'm letting little stresses turn into nightmares and mentally running away from things I just don't want to think about. The 'too hard' basket is overflowing. I need a mental spring cleaning.

So I've decided to have Sober September. No drinking, no partying. That's the outside part, that everyone sees. But my other goal is to sort out what's happening on the inside. I need to know what's making me act like this, feel like this, be like this. And fix it. Because it's not healthy.

Action without meaning

2009-07-26T22:23:00.002+09:30

I always figured i had a fairly nice body. Sure, sometimes it's been hidden, but it's there. I'm pretty but not stunning, a bit odd compared to the classic beautiful. Getting older has shown me that. And I'm lucky that I'm naturally slim, being tall helps, it's all a bit stretched out really.

I've joined gyms before, gone to them for a while. It hasn't been so much to lose weight, but to get some activity, use some muscles, to prevent anything too bad happening, body-wise. Last year I joined a gym near home, and was convinced - okay it didn't take much - to get a personal trainer. Once a week for almost a year, I've let someone else push me, harass me, yell at me, challenge me, and eventually I learned to push back, yell back, and be my own self, which (though frustrating for him at times I'm sure) has really helped me get more out of it.

I looked at my body properly for the first time in ages a couple of weeks ago. I saw that it's changed; that I stand straighter, taller, prouder. That I wear different clothes, or maybe just the same clothes, differently. I actually look at my body in a new way - it's not just this thing that carries me around, that should be small and neat and kept good looking; it's something mouldable, changeable. I can see muscles now, I can tell how to isolate them, make them work. I can do everything a little bit better than I could before.

It's a funny kind of awareness of myself. I guess it's like people who get all excited about "finding themselves" on holidays to asia, or that gap year between school and uni, or maybe just by sleeping with a billion people. I've kind of found my body. And I like it.

Loved up

2009-05-23T16:34:00.002+09:30

Joe surprised me by asking me to marry him while we were on holiday. A fantastic, beautiful, romantic surprise, just when I thought the holiday was already unforgettable.

I didn't realise it would affect us, considering we've been living together for a while and are generally happy and loving, but since then, we just keep smiling and feel happier than ever. I guess it's all about standing up and saying to the universe, we love each other and even though life can be hard, we're going to go through it together, and make the best life we can.

Now the organising begins, though... we're not planning on getting married right away, but we want to have our engagement party soon, to share the news and happiness with our friends and family before it's 'old news'. So there's booking a place, organising food, invitations... today we bought 60 lagoon blue envelopes, way too expensive!! But cheaper to buy online, because you can get any quantity; in stores you can buy in packs of 10 or 25, but pay over a dollar to buy just one. I am determined not to spend too much money; but at the same time, if it goes towards lots of friends having a great time, then it's worth it.

I keep thinking we should have something vaguely Mexican-themed, since Joe proposed in Mexico. Quesadillas, perhaps?

Music Theory

2009-04-15T21:19:00.002+09:30

It's so expensive to see bands these days. And music festivals are ridiculous.

When I saw Smashing Pumpkins last year, I came up with a theory to test whether or not I got my money's worth out of my ticket. They played 5 songs I really liked, so I divided the cost of the ticket by 5. I think the ticket was around $100, so that's $20 for each song. Now, would I pay $20 to see them perform one song? Well if it was one of those 5 they played, sure I would! So I got my money's worth. As a bonus, Queens of the Stone Age were supporting (supporting??!?!! I would see them on their own!), and I really liked a couple of their songs... but they were just supporting so I wouldn't give it as much weight, so say it's $100 for 5 x SP + 1 x QOTSA = around $17 each song.

For festivals, it's much the same, but you do it slightly differently... You can use the basic method and divide the cost of the ticket by the number of bands you enjoy, but I like to add up the amount I would pay to see each band. So, if you would be cool paying $20 to see an Australian band, maybe $10 for an Adelaide band's show, and say $30 for a small imported act, $50 for a massive show you'd love to see, then you can see maybe one of each, a couple of Australian bands, and get roughly your money's worth for a BDO. For example, that is.

Global financial crisis? Solved!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

2009-04-01T21:59:00.002+10:30

My belly aches... wait, no, it's just the rest of me. I am not a song.

The next person to make me sprint up stairs will be kicked in the head, possibly. I can't believe I pay to be tortured so frequently.

Work is totally completely PISSING ME OFF. It's the first time I've been so upset about it. The annoying thing is, a few changes and it would be much less stressful (can I fire people? Just one person please!). If one thing is really bad, it makes me see the rest of the day in a bad light as well. For the first time, my job includes being verbally challenged and/or abused almost daily, having to clean up other people's rubbish (coffee cups, food wrappers, tissues, anything people just want to drop on the floor really), having to work stupid random hours (including to 10pm at least once a fortnight), and having people undo or change things that I have done, without talking to me about it. This job is making me hate people. It could be so much easier, so much better, in fact without some of the problems, the other ones would be fine. I wouldn't mind working late or random hours, but add it to everything else and all I crave is a job with some regularity, predictability.

At least I have new skills now. I've discovered that - and if my year 10 maths teacher reads this, he WILL fall over and die - I am actually good with numbers. Really, I am! I could do a job that involves neat columns of numbers, lots of reading, quietness, not having to wear jeans and singlet tops to work... oh it sounds too good to be true. Someone give me a 9 to 5.

I am so focused on having a wonderful holiday. It's really going to be great - and so deserved! Joe and I haven't been away together really, except for a week or so in Melbourne and Sydney years ago (how weird that we've done something 'years ago' - it makes me feel old). I hope I'm a nice person to spend that much time with, because we'll be together nearly 24/7, in a country where they don't speak English, and we don't speak Spanish... I guess we'll be relying on Cody and Tania a lot. Anyway I can't wait to have the time off. I need to look at options.

I was forced to set a fitness training goal for the week. I've settled on Stretching Every Day, because I am not stretchy. I guess I will be by next week.

Things I will miss about Harbour Town

2009-02-25T22:41:00.002+10:30

- The quiet bus ride there and home
- Lunch with Lena
- Cheap drinks from the yoghurt shop
- Finding Nemo
- The funny smell in the corridor next to Subway every morning - a combination of disinfectant, baking cookies and baking bread
- Woolworths with self-serve checkouts
- Best shopping centre music in Adelaide
- Being 10 minutes from home.

Miss Indecisive

2009-02-11T20:20:00.002+10:30

Vegetarian For A Month is weird. My daily routine has changed a fair bit due to a change at work, so I'm not sure exactly how much it's affecting me. Finding vegetarian meals that are yummy and interesting is a bit tricky, but not impossible. There are only a couple of side effects I've found, and I have a feeling that it could be stress that's causing them. It's mostly really weird dreams. Oh, and bad skin. Great! So I sleep badly and look icky.

I'm so annoyed at work that I don't want to talk about it. When do I ever want to talk about work lately? It seems such a bore at the moment.

I'm destined to never have any idea of what I want to do, ever, about anything. I am Miss Indecisive.

ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaaannges

2009-02-07T22:25:00.003+10:30

Today I received a letter about domain name renewal, and I decided not to bother, since I don't make use of my domain name really, and on top of that, I can't remember any of the passwords to either change the website or set up my email. So I've moved onwards, downsized, to a regular gmail account like the rest of the world.

When signing up for gmail, I was really disappointed that hte following addresses were taken:
simone
simonem
simonebot
simonemadeline
simoneborry (yes, actually taken!!)
notwearingpants

I decided to pass on these possibilities:
simone.simone.simone872 (suggested by google, creator of really impossible to remember emails)
simoneasaurus
simoneblogs
simoneisgreat
flappymuppet
simonemuppet
originalsimone
therealsimone

I really considered the flappy muppet one. But I've had to spell/explain weird email addresses before, and honestly, it's no fun, because it's usually to people who only have their business emails, and don't understand how difficult it is finding a normal email address. Even my first name/last name combinations were taken, and worse, my first name and middle name (simonemadeline) was taken. It's my name! I almost took 'therealsimone' just to make a point, but 'thereal' looks like a missspelling of 'ethereal' to me, which would have just been annoying.

Anyway, if you're reading this, you're in the right place.

Close your eyes and bow your head, I need a little sympathy.

2008-11-28T20:22:00.000+10:30

I really don't know what to do. Not tonight, I know exactly what to do tonight, and probably tomorrow too. I'm talking about long term. Medium term. Life term. The term of my natural life. Stuff like that. It really wasn't the plan to end up where I am now, job-wise. I used to care about having a 'career', then somewhere it all became about just having a job, to get by, to get some money, to not be struggling and in debt. Awesome, done. But now what?

I don't want promotion at my current job. The people above me have crap jobs, I don't want them. So, stay in my job. It's just challenging enough to give me problems to solve that I know I can always solve. I know how to do it with my eyes closed (if only I could!). I get to do things I enjoy. But there are bad sides too... I get irritated being told to change rosters (for myself and the other girls) at a moment's notice, I'm not allowed enough hours in the week to get things done, I have to attend repetitive meetings and run even more repetitive training, people steal stuff, are rude to me, smell bad, and all the other problems that happen in shops. And there is always the constant reminder that from the time I was 17, I considered retail a job for dumb people. Which it is! Sometimes, you need that kind of person, who will just do as they're told, do what they're taught, no university needed, no questions asked, no boredom. I'm just not that kind of person, as dumb as I like to play.

So I've thought about just sticking with my job for a while, then maybe Joe and I will end up having a child, and then I'll obviously be needed for that. So no job required! But then what, when I'm bored with being at home, when I realise I can go back to work, what do I go back to? Same old? Why?

I did a survey designed to tell you jobs that you would be suitable for. One was Dialysis Technician, which I think is completely random, and makes me wonder every time I see dialysis-related things on tv. But it did suggest that I am most suited to a caring role, somewhere in health care, social work, education, and so on. Fair enough, that's probably what I would say myself.

What about education? How do I support myself through 3 more years of uni or tafe, or whatever I need to do? Correspondence would never work - I could never, ever motivate myself to work from home on something that wasn't giving me some immediate gain. Not to mention the money required to study. And the things I want to do, the things Joe and I want to do, we have car plans, travel plans, we have rent and animals and responsibilities that take money.

So I guess the answer is, wait. Think. There are options. There is time.

I'm just so impatient.

itchy nose

2008-09-09T23:12:00.000+09:30

an itchy nose is what I have.

Just sharing.

conditional love and unconditional loathing

2008-08-23T21:28:00.000+09:30

I have excessive unexplainable love for some people, words, phrases, actions, situations, feelings and things. it's totally platonic (my 'romantic' love is totally different, though contains many of these other loves), it's simply an appreciation for things that give me unquestioned joy, even if it's not forever, it only has to be a moment.

When it comes to people, i often love people who have some quirkiness that makes them not lovable to everyone. i think that's because it's not the person i love, it's something about them, one or two things that make me smile. for the most part i haven't written people here, only one who i know will see it.

can I mention that I love joe like crazy. i love him in a totally different way to this. he started as something on this list... to this day, just talking to him makes me flutter and sometiems i just smile to think we'll be in this together for a long long time. but he's moved on from the list. he's a part of me, so much a part of my life, that i can't just love him this way.

i thought i'd make a list of loves. and it's fitting that the word 'list' makes me think of Cog, because they are above all and on top of all and ahead of everything my biggest biggest love in this list of random loves. it's for a lot of reasons, musical and circumstantial and just that they are a beautiful group of people. but the point of these things i love is that I don't need a reason. I just love.

cog
the crow (movie, and only the first one)
dogs and lemurs
the feeling when planes take off
the dozy feeling when you take 3 nurofen plus and have a shower and go to bed all warm
joe tapping his foot when he makes up music
the song just visiting - it made me cry when i heard it live
spoz, crazy best friend
that anxious feeling when you can't breathe and feel like you'll be sick but your heart's either going a million miles an hour or stopped and you can't tell but for a moment the world freezes everything else out, just for a split second it feels good, then it breaks and you can't breathe for real
sunshine on my skin
rain rain rain
baking cookies and cupcakes
the words 'in time i will change'
the song 'no one knows'
billy corgan's voice
the song 'the chauffeur' (deftones version)

to be continued.

screaming

2008-08-04T16:24:00.000+09:30

Five days off is not enough, I want to sleep in more days, get more stuff around the house done, keep things tidy, nuzzle in blankets. But at the same time, I'm sick of the house, I count down the hours until I can make dinner, I snack and nibble and wander around. I'm not a very good nurse either, impatient, unhelpful, not good at stopping the dog and cat from dropping hair everywhere.

I almost looked for a new job, but I want to take time off in May or June to go to Mexico, and it's a bit hard to start a job and say "I want to take a month off in a few months' time". Bad manners, isn't it. So my plan is to stay, to save, to enjoy what I can and deal with the crap and love the early Wednesday afternoons.

Flicker, flicker, autosave flickers my blogger screen.

I need to go back to the dentist (x-rays first), get my hair done, and go to the optometrist because I can't see properly. Too expensive, all of it. Oh and I really should practice my reverse parallel parking and my reversing around corners and not going around corners too fast, so I can get my license.

I would really really like to go to Mexico, I just want to do something different to what we do every day, every week.

Not that I'm unhappy in my everyday life, I just get bored so easily.

Today I painted some bricks.

monotony monopoly monogamy mahogany

2008-06-29T22:48:00.000+09:30

It's so nice having a dog. A few people have told us "that's a big step!", but I don't think adopting Ruby has really changed the dynamic of "us". She's changed the family, because now Texas has someone to contend with for the best spot in front of the heater, and it's taken him about a month to return to being a nice cat that can be affectionate (for a while there he was very very cranky, and rightly so from his point of view).

I have somehow picked up a sore throat and I'm losing my voice - have spent the whole day croaking/squeaking out words.

I also have another new toothbrush. I chew them up. Not sure why. Maybe it's some kind of tension that comes out when I have a toothbrush in my mouth - without even thinking, I chew on them really hard. On the plastic bit, rather than the bristles.

I am allowed to be egocentric, it's my blog, I can write whatever I want to. Absolutely whatever! Including the nothingness of just random thoughts, stuff that's leaking out of my head as I start to shut down to prepare for going to bed, going to sleep. Not far now. I've had a shower, washed and dried my hair, ironed my clothes for tomorrow, packed my bag, put new sheets on the bed, brushed my teeth (new toothbrush, be careful, don't chew), now all that's left is to have some cuddle time with the two furries and kiss Joe goodnight, then get between those sheets, snuggle down, and close my eyes. So nice, so well earned today. Having three dogs and a cat here over the weekend made our house full of dust and hair and dirt, so I vacuumed and cleaned up and tidied away the mess of the week. Gave my mum her birthday presents, well chosen, well worth the money even though it was a little more than I had hoped to spend, but I love her and she deserves to be spoiled and who cares if it takes me an extra pay-day to get that credit card back to zero.

I like being naive, and I like spelling it wrong. There are some things I am comfortable never discussing. It doesn't mean I'm not intelligent. I like that my job is for the most part really, really easy. I like that and I am comfortable with it. I would much rather put my intelligence to use in my home life, my non-work life, because I think that matters a lot more. I am comfortable trusting some things to the people who are responsible. I will vote, I will research who to vote for, but I will not complain about how things are done, because I am not in a position to say whether I would do it any better. If I can't form a fully informed opinion, if I can't convincingly put myself in someone else's shoes, then my opinion is not particularly useful.

heads, shoulders, knees and toes.

over and out.

dental mental

2008-05-05T17:59:00.000+09:30

please note I am trying to type through a cat. Texas is inquisitive and attention seeking.

i have been in absolute agony since Friday night. I have an infection in the root of my tooth, the tooth has actually died but the infection makes the surrounding area incredibly sore. I didn't want to go to one of those 'emergency' dentists on Sunday (I had to work Saturday so had no option of going then), so I had to deal with it. Saturday night that consisted of going out and getting drunk, which worked, because I didn't even wake up until almost 1pm Sunday (sorry Joe, had I woken up earlier maybe you wouldn't have been late to band camp), then it gave me an excuse to make minestrone for dinner. Yum. Homemade soup is the only real soup, except hearty chicken and corn cup a soup.

So today I called about half a dozen dentists, trying to find one that could fit me in. Some were downright rude. I ended up with a pretty good one, she was nice and youngish and friendly and the room was clean and new looking. They even did x-rays that came up instantly on the computer screen - last time I had x-rays, they took a few minutes to develop, and were just on this little film. The technology made me feel better about it all.

I was expecting the tooth to be unsalvageable. With the amount of pain, I thought they'd drill into it and a ton of stinky yuck would just flow out. But the dentist said she would rather save the tooth - there was a lot of the original tooth left, so removing it would be a waste, and should really only be a last resort. So, being a sentimental sucker, I decided we could do it that was, and salvage the tooth.

TWO HOURS of drilling and poking and injections and x-rays and tooth meds, and I was finally out of there. Unfortunately, all the anaesthetic had worn off, and the pain was agonising. I came home, took 3 nurofen plus and went straight back to bed with a hot pack on my face.

Apparently the pain should ease overnight. If it's still there tomorrow morning, I have to call and get back in so they can try again, or something. At the moment, it hurts if I bite together, or put any pressure on the tooth at all. Which is why I haven't eaten all day (for the first time ever in my entire life!!). I bought awesome Enzo's lasagne for dinner, because it's pretty soft and shouldn't require too much chewing. I'm actually starving now, can't wait for Joe to get home.

Can't believe how much this little thing hurts.

Monday-itis

2008-04-28T18:30:00.000+09:30

Should I be turning off the water taps to the washing machine in between uses? It's not like the water's going anywhere, and I can't find any leaks.

4 days off work is fun. It's no fun when you're injured or sick; that's just boring; but when you have nothing to do but whatever you want to do, it's fabulous. I think I had a nap every single day. I like to say I have a sentimental attachment to naps because of my first few days with Joe, but really, I'm just lazy, for the most part anyway.

Not sure what's going on at work at the moment, it's hard when everything's been going great and then you have problems all of a sudden. Nothing major, but still, annoying. I suppose it's called a challenge, not a problem, but I've never been good at that weird buzzword crap.

I have eaten too much food and now I want some chocolate to balance it out, but Joe's at band practice so I would have to walk to the shop myself to get it, and I really don't want to do that. I suppose I should make some kind of lunch to take to work tomorrow.

the end, that's it, it's only Monday after all.

PS can everybody in the universe please stop bugging me about the gardasil vaccination, thankyou.

new boots

2008-04-19T19:29:00.000+09:30

I bought new boots today. I have a problem with boots that have no zippers. I can't put my foot in them properly - once they're on they fit fine, but my arch is really high and so my foot is too high to fit in... this makes no sense, does it? anyway, it's a bit of a pain, and means I never try on boots in stores, unless they have a zipper.

anyway, i bought new boots, they're brown (tan?) and have buckles and heels and i'm wearing them and not really sure whether i'll be able to take them off again.

i'm a bit over noise at the moment. I'd really like some quiet. i can hear too much - guitar, tv, cars, animals. i would really really really just like some peace and quiet.

i'd also like to wear lots of coloured eyeshadow and go out and get drunk.

I guess staying here in the not-so-quiet is a better idea, on the whole...

lint roller

2008-04-13T23:03:00.000+09:30

I love lint rollers. Those sticky ones that have the paper you peel off, like a tree trunk. You roll stuff until it doesn't stick any more, peel off the top layer, and there you go, brand new stickiness.

Sometimes days start out all fresh then get linty. Or conversations start out nice and then get bad and fluffy and don't make sense and you can't say what you mean and you can't understand how things are supposed to be, because your head is so full of being completely totally sure that you're not what the other person is saying, that you can't listen objectively. That's when you need a human version of a lint roller, to peel away that layer that got cloudy and impossible to understand, and you could start afresh, calm and understanding, at the middle of the conversation. Everything is so hard, so incredibly hard at times. I get tired just thinking of how to get through an hour without messing things up in some way.

I'm really impatient with a lot of things. I don't measure anything, I don't pin things together when I sew, I just like things to be done and if they're imperfect, then that shows that I made them, because I don't take extra time to do stuff right. Not so with some people (as I write, Joe is hanging lanterns in the bedroom, meticulously lining them up for calculated randomness, which is a good thing because the original plan was for me to do it one day without telling him, and if I'd stuck with that plan, we'd have seven random coloured lanterns looking kind of stupid, half hanging from the ceiling and the other half in the corner because I would have lost concentration half way through and decided to do something else).

I tried counting to ten to calm down when I get mixed up, but you can't be your own lint roller. Pausing in awkward situations just gives you time to panic about it, and make it worse. It gives me time to curl up in a ball and try to sleep, so warm, so relaxed, not thinking about stuff, not worrying, just warm and cosy and completely exempt from responsibility and consequence and demands and requirements. But every nap ends in waking up, and a moment where you think crap, now I have to get up, and the rest of the day resumes and I have to do things, be dressed and neat and feel utterly disgusted at my messy hair and stretched trackies, but it's slightly easier sometimes to sit in quiet self disgust than actually go and fix the hair and get changed (into what? Nothing fits!).

I was so convinced that I was pregnant at one stage that I began to quite like the idea. But I don't even feed the cat very often (it's okay, Joe does it, he never goes hungry). I imagine babies are rather more demanding, though really, what could be more demanding than a cat? He meows, he bodyslams the door to try to get through, he poos a lot and lately doesn't even cover it up. He does manage to kick his litter all over the floor though, and wee on the wall, quite an achievement as the sides of his litter tray are almost as high as he is.

What if the lint roller is picking up important bits? If you had a fluffy jumper, maybe some of the lint that's being rolled away is actually part of the jumper. You could just end up with a boring smooth jumper after a while, and if you'd wanted a smooth jumper to start with, then you would have bought one. But you chose the fluffy jumper. And now it's not the same.

Maybe a human lint roller isn't a good idea after all. Even if it means the day is a little more of a struggle.

Hay dios mio.

2008-01-15T13:03:00.000+10:30

Having your ankle rolled into and twisted by a stupid taxi driver is no fun at all. It just makes the days so slow! I'm not allowed to walk around much, so that pretty much means I have to sit in front of the tv or computer, or read all day. I can't read all day because it makes my eyes sore and makes me rather sleepy.

The fish and chip store across the road is being re-painted. So far it's white, I hope that's just an undercoat. It's rather bright.

I actually miss being at work, too! I had so much to do today, but instead of doing it, I'm sitting at home playing on facebook and writing silly dribble here. At least the store's in good hands, the girls who work there are really good.

I had leftover bolognaise on toast for lunch, it was delish.

Another not fun thing is having your phone stolen. I don't know if I dropped it somehow, or someone took it, but I don't have it and it was turned off (batteries were freshly charged that day, so they didn't run out); no effort made to find me. So now I need to buy a new phone, and I really liked the one I had. Problem is, they don't make it any more or something, so I have to get one sent from interstate. It was meant to arrive today, and Joe could pick it up for me, but I haven't heard from the phone place yet, so I won't be able to get it until tomorrow. It's not really that important - anyone who needs me can call on the home phone, because I can't go anywhere - it's just an annoyance I didn't really want.

I have no luck with phones. I shouldn't even have one.

I'm going to go and try to take a photo of my bruised ankle, now the swelling has mostly gone down.

Hold me closer, tiny pantser

2008-01-06T16:52:00.000+10:30

Simone: "I'm conquering my fear of shorts tonight! You should, too."
Spoz: "We'll swap later."
Simone: "I'll hold you to that!!"

... a few hours later, in a dimly lit walkway between Shotz and the Crown and Anchor, two very different people drop and swap pants.

I'm slightly worried that Spoz fits into my shorts (or "tiny pants" as they are now known).

Last night I also decided to count my [alcoholic] drinks, in homage to Joe's continued drink counting. Here is the final tally, including venue:

Home:
2 pear vodka with lemonade
1 pear vodka with sparkling apple juice and lemonade

Ed "Not a Gay Bar Anymore" Castle:
2 vodka raspberry
1 tequila 1800
1 crazy cocktail with mystery ingredients, but including vanilla vodka
1 mandarin vodka with lemonade
1 sloe-infused vodka (mmm) with lemonade
1 chambord with lemonade

Enigma
3/4 of a can of smirnoff ice double black

Tequilarea
1 tequila rose
1 don julio gold

Travelling...
1 raspberry cruiser

Crown and Anchor
1 chernobyl meltdown
1 french kiss

Shotz
1 angel kiss
1 cowboy

Very, very unhealthy. Today, to compensate, I'm drinking lots of water, some multi-v juice, doing pilates, cleaning the house, and making paella for dinner. Oddly, I'm not feeling bad - a little lethargic, a little easily distracted, but not hungover. I even walked to the shops to buy supplies.

Texas is a lovely love cat.

Three and a half months

2008-01-03T19:44:00.000+10:30

... is a long time in the internet world. Hello? Is anybody still out there?

Well I'm still here, out here, on the other side of a computer. Also on the other side of town now, and the other side of Christmas/New Year, and the other side of a promotion at work. All busy and important things, but this isn't some kind of record of my life, so I'm not going to tell you about them.

Right now, on my mind is ... well, actually not much. A lot of little things (work stuff, dinner stuff, hair stuff, and so on), but nothing of note. This is really just another little footprint in the internet world, to say I'm still here, still doing the same old things. And some new things, too (why not?). Always still here.

I went to the gynaecologist and all I got was this lousy prescription

2007-09-13T11:39:00.000+09:30

I am so over having a cold. It's no fun. Days of hacking and coughing and sniffing. I don't know how people put up with it! I haven't been sick for ages. This is no fun at all.

Today I bought a new keyring because the giraffe kept coming off my old one.

I am also considering removing the video store membership cards from my keyring. I never use them. I use the Boost Juice one occasionally, so I'll keep that. I'm into minimalist keyrings. I don't like having heaps of stuff on them. Too heavy and big and jangly.

I walked from the city to Melbourne Street and back, because I didn't want to catch the stinky bus. I'm a little impatient about buses lately.

In fact I think I'm a little impatient in general. Sorry boys!

Yes, Cody is staying with us at the moment. It's a life of pants parties and people falling asleep on the floor and job interviews. The help with cleaning our house (the walls, the walls, it takes forever to clean wallpaper remnants off the walls) is muchly welcome. And Cody can cook too, so now there are three good cooks in the house. I haven't eaten crappy food in ages!

I'm waiting for the washing to wash. I'm washing sheets today, because the weather is fine.

I would kill for a dimetapp. Demazin. Codral. Sudafed. Anything! But I'm not allowed, boo hoo.

There is homebrew brewing beside me. Apparently this weekend is bottling weekend, yippee I have to work, the boys can bottle beer, it's a boy job.

I bought a new phone, it's waterproof. I am now the kind of person who needs to get sturdy, water resistant phones, rather than the pretty shiny ones I normally go for. This is a defining moment. Simone: waterproof phone user.

I am also waterproof.

Indulgence

2007-08-30T16:05:00.000+09:30

I love buttery croissants
crumpets with butter and vegemite
sleeping in past 11
sitting close to the heater
eating grated cheese from the packet
being quiet, silent, still
chocolate muffins
blueberry muffins
apple cranberry muffins
muffins
chocolate raspberries, a whole bag
nuzzling
hot bath then jumping into bed
perfume
soft and furry things
arms around me
pretty painted nails
milo made with all milk no water
mexican food
big bowls of pasta
walking

Walking

2007-08-29T19:12:00.000+09:30

I went on a massive walk this afternoon. First I decided to walk to the park and read my book. Then I decided to get an icecream to eat while I read. But I got lost looking for somewhere that sold icecreams. After about 40 minutes I managed to find an icecream and make my way down to the river, to find a park with a nice bench or something so I could read. But there was nowhere nice to sit. So I kept walking along the river. After a while I decided to eat my icecream before it melted. So I finished my icecream, and kept walking. Before I knew it, I could see an orangutan. Yep, I'd walked all the way to the zoo! So I crossed the river and walked back home... and read my book on the couch.

I don't know what ctrl + r does

2007-08-24T18:33:00.000+09:30

But I pressed it accidentally. It better not be the self-destruct button, or joe will kill me! Kill! Kill! Stabby!!

Ahem. I swear, this is only my second drink. The first was one of those smirnoff black ice bottles, very tangy. Now I'm having a pint (big pint, whatever that is) of vodka and apple/orange/mango juice, to save me refilling glasses. Such a bore refilling!!

I am Going Out to Meet Joe soon. It's weird how we still meet out, even though we live together, but I like it that way. It's boring always arriving together. Yawn. God forbid we become one of those "We only exist together" couples!! No way.

That's all, just wanted to share.

love and stuff.

I has a plan

2007-08-23T18:58:00.000+09:30

And that plan is to be creative again. I spend too much time wishing I could be, when the only reason I'm not is I spend my money on the wrong things and I'm too lazy. In "the house" (as I keep referring to it as, much to the confusion of people), I'm having a room just for my creativity. Everyone will see it, because you have to go through it to get to the back yard, but that's good, because I like showing off.

I have some requirements/plans for this room already. They include:
- it will have a purple wall
- my sewing machine will be permanently set up
- my dolls house will be on a table and accessible, so maybe I can finally paint it
- my jewellery (some of it anyway) will be on display so I can pick and choose it to go with an outfit
- it will be colourful, with lots of purple and blue and pink and some green
- there will be mirrors
- there will be a place to relax
- everyone except Robbie Williams and other evil people will be welcome
- when I have enough money to buy one, there will be a dressmaker's dummy
- there will be shelves for boxes of random things, and more random things on display
- it will be a sanctuary of happiness and light and things that feel good.

Today I checked out West Lakes shopping centre, since we'll be fairly close to there when we move. It's huge! I remember it as this little mall with a Coles and a David Jones and a Cue, and some other random stores in between. It's massive now! And after heaps of searching through pretty much every clothing store, I also found almost exactly what I was looking for. I didn't want to buy anything, but you know when you get a picture of something in your head, and you just feel awful if you don't find it? Well this girl was really helpful and knew what I was talking about, and even found one in the faulty box out the back. And the fault is something tiny that I can fix in just a few minutes. Success!

I suck at renovations. The boring bits, anyway. I was supposed to be cleaning walls all afternoon, but it took me over an hour to finish the loungeroom and I got bored and went shopping. Typical woman, no?

I guess I haven't even explained the house concept very well. It basically goes like this. My grandparents both died earlier this year, and left their house to their only son, my father. Mum and Dad want to do up the house a bit and rent it out for some extra income, but it's going to take a while for it to be done up because it basically had old people living in it for the last 40+ years (my grandparents were both in their 90s, so that's a few decades of old-style decorating tastes). Joe and I will live in the house, paying cheap rent, while it's done up, and we'll give a hand doing some of the renovations too - for example, we've volunteered to do all the wallpaper removal and wall painting. It's a nice house, 3 bedrooms plus a dodgy home-job "sleepout" (this is the room that will be my sewing room), a nice sized yard and a garage. The outside is painted white... but like I said, old people lived there. Other than people dying, it's a pretty good deal all around - my parents get reliable tenants, we get a cheap place where we can live with..... yep, you guessed it... TEXAS!!!! :D I can't wait to have my kitty back.

Just another blog

2007-08-21T11:31:00.000+09:30

I don't know what to write.

I know there's something in there, but I can't get it out to the keyboard. Maybe it's a talking thing, but I'm too scared to ruin time with talking of bad things that make no sense that raise questions that nobody can answer anyway. Who has time for that? Reflection is best done alone, when you don't have anything else pressing that needs doing, and you can spend your time flushing out the bad things from your head.

I'm completely sick of bad dreams and sleeping weirdly. I wake up sweaty but freezing cold, I dream of grandfather spies and friends who forget me and a boyfriend who doesn't care. None of this stuff is real, it's not something I think about, or worry about. But I dream of it, time and time again. This day's the same as those before.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCP0G6z0aEo

Sometimes it really does feel like I'm moving so slowly.

Disclaimer

2007-08-16T10:51:00.000+09:30

I feel like I need to repeat something I've mentioned before...

What I write here is to get general stuff out of my head. If I have a specific problem with a person, I'll take it up with them, guaranteed. Please never assume anything I write in a blog is a personal attack, or some childish way of making you feel bad.

Emotionally, I'm generally love/hate/don't mind. Meaning, I either feel really strongly about something (usually for all of an hour or so), or it goes in the "actually, it doesn't really affect my life, does it?" pile. If I write about something here while I'm in that first phase, then yay it's exciting and I get it off my mind. It's not personal.

So please, nobody take offence, and rest assured that I'm not petty enough to hate on you via my blog :D

(bonus points for saying 'hate on you'!!!)

Something's wrong with this picture

2007-08-15T11:27:00.000+09:30

Something is wrong with my picture today. I think it started last night, or maybe on the weekend, but I'm not feeling right. Either I'm feeling weird emotionally and it's making my head, eyes and stomach hurt, or feeling queasy and headachy is getting me down. I'm not sure.

I think it starts with drinking, but it might have also started with the fact that so many people cancelled on Joe's birthday. Maybe he should have invited more people to start with. But it really annoyed me, especially considering how good he is about turning up to other people's things, even when he doesn't really want to, or isn't feeling that good, or if he has other things on too. It just irritated me.

Birthdays are celebrated for a reason. It's the one day that everyone celebrates you. How good it is to have you in their lives, how lucky they are to have you. Even if you hate getting older, or think you're over it just because you don't have the excitement of an eight year old eating cake and opening endless presents, everyone deserves that ego boost, and they deserve to feel that extra bit loved, if just for one day. That's why I get annoyed at people who say "oh, I'm not going to do anything for my birthday this year, I'm over it." If you're so over it, you probably need that ego boost more than other people. Let people celebrate you, it's not that hard.

I want to travel. I have a desire to see something I've never seen, to be surrounded by people I don't know, to compare somewhere half way across the world to my home. It's been in my head for a little while now, but over the last few days, it's really been getting to me. And it looks like I'll be able to pay off my evilest credit card soon too, which will save me $130 every month. Put that together with paying cheaper rent when we move, and I could actually start making a financial difference that will let me save enough money to go away for a while...

The weird thing is, today I don't feel like doing anything. Not even curling up in a ball and reading, which is the usual fallback if I don't feel good. I just want it to be tomorrow already, or maybe the next day.

Hair day

2007-08-10T19:16:00.000+09:30

+ $123 =

I love Ikea

2007-08-09T20:15:00.000+09:30

Grapetiser doesn't break my rest-of-the-month ban on sugary fizzy drinks as it has no added sugar. I just wanted to clear that up before we continue.

Bought Joe some drums for his birthday... I guess eventually I'll be cursing myself for buying him something that makes noise. But maybe it'll decrease the amount of drumming that my legs, arms, head, and whatever's in reach gets. And I have to admit, he sounds pretty cool on them.

Work is annoying because we have a new person, and while it's nice to get the occasional Saturday off, it's not nice to have less shifts. That's frustrating, especially since we'll be buying house stuff soon, and paying for other moving-related expenses. I need to save up money!

Joe: Are you writing a blog?
Me: mmm
Joe: About time! I checked last night and there was nothing there. You better be including a picture. Even if you have to go around the house and take a photo of an inanimate object.

Our first day of renovations at The House (renting my grandparents' old house from my parents, helping them renovate it before we move in) I was really tired. My idea was basically to go to Ikea. So we did. We now have those cool shaped ice cube trays. They are fantastic. I have heart shaped ice cubes in my glass of Grapetiser right now. They're half melted but still heart shaped. Ikea really is the first step in any house renovations of any kind. It takes hours to get around the store, but it's always fun. I love Ikea.

Infiltration complete

2007-07-25T20:00:00.000+09:30

I have totally infiltrated Joe's home. My stuff is in every room - bathroom, laundry, kitchen, bedrooms, even on the computer desk. But it's not all bad, in fact it's pretty good so far. Sharing chores and cooking and stuff is working, and I haven't yet turned into a nagging wife kind of person.

More exciting than just living together is the opportunity we have with my grandparents' house. Sadly I lost both of them this year, within a month or two of each other. They had a beautiful life, together for more than 60 years, in two countries. It's still sad to think about it, in a happy way though, if that makes sense. Anyway, the house went to my parents, and they've decided to renovate a bit before renting it out. Joe and I are going to help with the renovations and live there, in exchange for cheap rent. We're already a little excited about it, even though it's a lot of hard work (our first real job is to remove wallpaper... dusty, old, thick wallpaper). It's like buying a house and renovating, but without spending the money!!

Paint samples are so much fun.

I just tried the blogger upload picture thingy, it's not fantastic is it? I think it stretched the picture or something.

Mmm looking forward to dinner. I'm hungry.

Did my tax yesterday. Tax time! Tax time! I love tax time!!! I always get a refund, it's so much fun. And this year I discovered claimable laundry expenses on mandatory uniform. Because I do have to wear uniform, and I do have to wash it and mend it and so on...

Okay now it's way too cold in here, I'm moving.

I did it

2007-07-17T17:16:00.000+09:30

After a long day of moving, following a late night of packing, I finally did it. I no longer live alone. My parents and I and a massive covered trailer made three trips from my place, two of them across town, and one trip from Bunnings (stuff for the house we will later move in to). My parents are even now doing the rest of the trek, back up into the hills, to take some stuff to their place - a tv and stereo and tv stand that I gave to them so they can finally get their Foxtel in widescreen. It took more than eight hours, lots of hard work by everyone, but it's pretty much all done. Not helping that I had to take things to three separate places. There are still about 2 car loads of miscellaneous stuff to take, but that won't be hard. Then some cleaning, and I'm out of there...

Thanks for letting me into your house and home and life and heart Joe. I really hope this all works out. xx

Drama, drama, drama.

2007-07-05T11:33:00.000+09:30

Ever noticed how some people have to make drama in their lives? Sure, I do some things dramatically, but I don't inflict it on others. I never liked girls when I was younger because they tend to say one thing and mean another, and they can do that without a trace of remorse. Just think of the stereotypical female character on tv shows; they're all gossip and nagging and telling little lies, refusing to talk to certain people. It drives me mental!

So, if anyone ever has a problem with me, don't pretend you don't. If you don't like hanging out with me, then don't. If you only pretend to like me, then stop it. If you don't like me because I'm friends with someone you don't like, don't assume I'm taking sides - I have no room for that kind of drama, and will be friends with whoever I want to based on their own merits, not what other people say.

Not that any of this has actually happened to me, but it just made me think. Be honest with me, because I will always be honest with you.

The only person I refuse to talk to has spent the last 15 years or so as a destructive, abusive alcoholic. I will not accept his place in my world until he takes responsibility for everything he has done, and gets professional help to deal with the underlying/resulting mental issues. Until then, it's too destructive on me to have him in my life. That may be kind of dramatic, but I don't inflict my views on it on other people, and I don't dwell on it. What I've said is a statement of fact, not something I think about often or let impact on my life.

Anyway, that's all. Not feeling my usual bright and happy self these days (too much death around me, it's beginning to really hurt).

I'm wearing men's underwear

2007-06-14T13:04:00.000+09:30

It has come to my attention that some things made for men are better than their female counterparts. Underwear, for example. Not for everyday wear - yes I normally wear women's underpants - but for sleeping, or wearing under trackies on a day off, you can't beat men's bonds hipster trunks, or guy-front trunks. Sure, they have a little bit of extra space at the front, but they're so comfy! Tight boxers made for women are always this funny skimpy-cut, which creeps up between your legs, and they're too tight in general. If you buy a larger size, then they just fall off! Whereas men's underwear is tighter around the waistband than the rest of the pants, so it's a lot more comfortable. And bonds uses really nice soft fabrics too. Not to mention the (gay) colours you can get them in these days - perfect for girls!

Another thing that's better for men is face scrub. WOW. It's like using menthol-soaked sandpaper to wash your face, and it's great! I've tried heaps of face scrubs, and the best one is definitely the nivea for men facial scrub. I wouldn't use it every day, but for a really great clean, it's the best.

I'm sure there are more things that are better for men, but I can't think of them right now...

Toast?

2007-06-11T14:37:00.000+09:30

I got up to get the washing out of the machine.

I smelled toast... geez, who's making toast? How much toast are my neighbours making that I can smell it from here?

Wait, nobody's making toast, I'm baking cupcakes!

It's okay, they're not burned. It's all good.

Today is Thursday

2007-06-07T11:57:00.000+09:30

And what a marvelous Thursday it is.

Except for the stupid mailman. Why haven't I got my mail yet? There must be some. Someone must be sending me something. I mean, it's Thursday. And I still haven't got my phone bill from last month, or the replacement one they promised to send when I rang up to see how much I had to pay. And if my mail came earlier yesterday, I could have taken the thingy to medicare and got my $14 back by now, and I wouldn't have to go anywhere today! Silly lettersman. Isn't my mail important? Cello?

Noodles and vegetables are yummy and filling but I'm looking forward to getting paid tomorrow so I can eat something different. Kind of sick of soup and toast as well. And I need some meat! Meat! My mother freaks out if I don't eat meat enough, it's like a sign of having no money, eating no meat. She worries. But understands if I choose to buy a pair of shoes or a handbag instead of food.

I was about to write about what I'm doing tonight, but then realised that I try not to give out details of where I'll be, in case any of you readers are nasty stalkers.

My right hand is cold, leading me to believe that it does less work when I type, although that's silly because it has control over way more letters. It usually does the spacebar, and controls the backspace key, which is really important because at the moment I'm trying to pay attention to how I type, and that's making me make heaps of mistakes.

My knee is really sore, I wish it wasn't.

Okay I'm off, medicare thing to cash, hair to wash, outfit to prepare for tonight.

Seven weeks to go

2007-06-05T12:38:00.000+09:30

When I wanted to move to this side of town, my focus was to find a cheap place with two bedrooms. That was about the extent of my requirements. So, I ended up in an apartment block living between a stairwell and some creepy asian guy and his hostage. People love to park their cars or warm up their motorbikes or have massive phone conversations right outside my bedroom window. I can hear residents of other apartments flush their toilets, run their showers, do their dishes. But when I first got here, I was blinded to all this by the fact that I could walk to uni, walk to Joe's house, and was right near a great shopping centre so I could do all my grocery shopping at a nice big coles and get random stuff at k-mart too. Then when I started working at tea tree plaza, it was handy for the buses I needed to catch to get there.

I made this little space my own, and I'm guessing that inside, it's nicer than any of the 14 other apartments in this block. It's not full of second hand mismatched furniture, nothing's dirty or ripped... it's all nice things. New things, chosen because I know the value of being happy and comfortable in your surroundings. A few things are hand-me-downs, but never broken, never too strange, always fitting in to make the place reflect me. You can't walk in here without just being surrounded by me.

So now it's seven weeks until I leave here. I'm getting sick of my neighbours, sick of the traffic noise, sick of the view of other people's laundry hanging outside my kitchen window. I can't wait to be out of here.

So today I'm having a clean-up. It's my day off work, and I'm going to start sorting out things. I know that with only a couple of days off each week, and other days filled with work and spending time with family, seeing the kitty, visiting Grandpa, and spending time with Joe, that seven weeks is going to fly past.

It's a weird thought, that I won't be surrounded by my own things. I wanted to live on my own ever since I was old enough to understand the concept. I didn't get to until I was 22, and now it's been about a year and a half, and I'm giving it up. Is that enough time? Will I sit back in a few months and think, oh man, i really want my own space back? I guess you can never really predict that kind of thing. I love so many of the things I'm moving towards, but there's still a wariness of losing bits of me. It's only a wariness, I'm not going to give it all up because I'm a little nervous. I know it's what I want to do - every day it makes me smile to think about it.

I better get started with the cleaning.

Episode guide: Season 24, Episode 64: The healing powers of domesticity

2007-05-16T14:27:00.000+09:30

In today's episode, Simone does some household chores and thinks about life, love, living, second lives, reactions, and feeling like the boring kid that's invited to parties by people's mums because she doesn't have any friends. Again.

I love laundry. I may have mentioned this before. If I could, I'd wash, hang out, fold up and put away clothes and towels and sheets every day. I nearly do every day, because I don't have enough clothes to go the whole week without washing something. Well technically I have enough clothes, but not ones I want to wear, or are appropriate to wear. Laundry is soothing, calming. I even don't mind that my washing machine interferes with my television reception. I don't like ironing as much, but that's mostly because I get a pain in my shoulder after a while from the repetitive motion at the height of the ironing board. Same with vacuuming. Weird.

I don't like the feeling that I can be replaced. Okay, there have been times when I was eager to be replaced, forgotten, superceded. But in some things, it feels weird. Maybe I shouldn't feel weird about it, but I do. I mean, in some ways, that part of my life has been replaced with something more important.

Alright, I get the feeling that this could sound like anything at all if I keep being so vague. So I'll put it out there for real, for once. I get uncomfortable (not jealous - it's not nearly that strong a feeling) about the fact that Joe, my Joe, spends heaps of time talking to people and taking photos for them and having fun with them on the internet. That's how we met, that's how we started. I used to be the one who got heaps of comments, emails, pictures, everything. But then I was online less, and as I saw Joe more, I kind of lost my interest in being online every single day. I got the best thing that I found on the Internet, and I got him at my house and on the phone and I didn't need to be online all the time. And for a while he slowed down too, but now... blogs are booming, more friends than you can poke a stick at, and well, the internet is back up there for him. It's not me that's getting all the comments and pictures and emails any more, which is fair enough because I'm not online, but... it was once me. And I know that all the actual real contact I get is so much more important, but still, it was once me. I'm not saying that the internet life is more important than real life for Joe, but still... it's a whole life that I wasn't particularly good at, and got bored of, but he's bloomed in. It was once me.

So forgive me if I don't love the fact that you get heaps of comments from my Joe. That you email back and forth every day. I know it means nothing except that you're friends with a very friendly guy, but still. That was once me.

Selfish maybe. I get real life Joe - and I cannot describe how good that is. You read his blogs, see his 'space, laugh at his photos... but nearly every day I'm so close that I'm part of it. I have his love, his time, his caring, his arms around me, his everything. So all my discomfort about the internet is completely unjustified when you look at the whole picture. But still. I just feel that way. Need to get over it.

Of course, by writing about it here, you're going to think it's some major problem. But it's not, trust me. It's a little feeling that makes up the complex machinery of my mind and heart and soul.

I think the washing's nearly done, I better hang it out before this sunshine melts away.

By the way, what an awesome relationship if this is all I have to complain about :)

Seven million thoughts

2007-05-14T22:24:00.000+09:30

It's been too long, it's too hard.

- work is hectic, i've been moved to a crappy store to make it better.
- headaches, colds, yuck from the new store because it's not in a mall but open to the road.
- grandma died, it was horrible. it was painful for us and long and drawn out. funerals are horrible.
- i love texas more and more.
- having cancer would suck, what also sucks is 6 week waiting lists to see doctors.
- boots party must be had.
- tesquieela tamasco!

that's enough, that should be enough, that's about it really for the last few weeks. time to catch up on things now, to have 3 days off in a row, to relax and see friends and cuddle in the cold weather.

fiscal fishing

2007-04-11T20:58:00.000+09:30

So financially I would have been better off just quitting uni without withdrawing, and getting a Fail grade.

Because now that I've withdrawn, I'm no longer entitled to any centrelink payment. And since I've been earning a fair bit at work, filling in while the store manager was away, well I probably have to pay them back some money.

Sooo the massive pay I get on Friday, I'm guessing most of it isn't going to make it far in my budget.

Speaking of which, I now have to re-calculate my budget, and figure out whether the hours of work I get are actually going to cover me.....

Hmm, better get on that soon.

Considering my impending financial distress, it's a good thing I put that pair of boots on lay-by today (I only had $16.55, but they were on sale, 30% off, and i get paid Friday)... might be the last indulgence for a while :)

I guess I have been living pretty well lately. It wouldn't hurt me to wear the same outfit to work twice in the same week. And I don't really need four million shades of nailpolish or eyeshadow. And I so don't need to go out on the weekend much.

I'm so sleepy... got up early for work. Sale set-up... lots of climbing up and down the ladder, hanging posters, moving stock. Good stuff, keeps the day going. Boots on lay-by. Big black pointy boots with silver stilettos, silver buckles.

Must dash... budgets to do, lists to write, brain to stretch, things to worry about.

Cody's coming back this year... yay! Not that I want his holiday to be short, I just look forward to him crashing in adelaide. not literally.

the end of this blog is now.

Your mouse is a little bit weird

2007-04-07T19:48:00.000+09:30

It's been a while... but I don't have to make dinner and I'm not going out so now is a good time.

First... yessss Joe and I will co-habitate. But not right away. We're waiting a few months to a) save money and b) not break leases and c) get used to the idea. But it's nice to have decided that it's actually going to happen. Plus we get to live with little Texas again! Not that he's so little any more. He's getting long and lanky and he has a loud meow. My parents love him and don't want to give him back...

Work is fantastic. And I've decided to defer my uni course, which I'm not enjoying at all, to pursue a full time retail career. Am I crazy!? Yes, probably. But I love it and I want to be a store manager. I've spoken to our regional manager and she's all for helping me out, too. Yay :)

What else... what else... I have a massive head cold. It's not much fun at all. Joe gave it to me, then I gave it back to him. See, we already share so much!

Speaking of sharing... pizza must nearly be ready.

Generally, life is good!

the beginning is the end is the beginning

2007-03-24T22:11:00.000+10:30

Joe and I have decided to move into a house together.

Ooops

2007-03-19T18:29:00.000+10:30

I didn't realise this stinky assignment was due yesterday. At least it isn't taking me long.

But I do have a massive craving for chicken with yummy thai satay sauce. Not bad for someone who refused to eat anything peanut-related for years.

I'm going to have some dinner.

Say hi to The Mars Volta for me.

Overtired and restless

2007-02-24T01:04:00.000+10:30

The problem with not getting home from work until 11pm is that you have to eat dinner late, then occupy yourself for an hour or so while your dinner settles, then manage to settle your brain down enough from the over-stimulation of working then going to see friends briefly, then you have to do the hardest bit, which is get the work songs out of your head. My head is spinning with beyonce, gwen stefani, lily allen, nick lachey, guy sebastian, that other australian idol winner from last year, and a million other pseudo-r&b girls who probably dance around in bikinis in their video clips. All songs that I normally would be blissfully unaware of, but since starting this job, they're songs that I listen to repeatedly on any given day at work. Today it was 8 hours worth, with a 1 hour break somewhere around the 3-hours-through mark.

I can actually sing along quite well to stephanie mcintosh's (the blonde girl from neighbours) 'tightrope'. And gnarles barkley's 'crazy'. And beyonce's 'irreplacable', minus the fancy pants frilly voice bits, of course.

I really need to get some sleep... have to get up at 6:45 (on a saturday!! a SATURDAY!!) tomorrow for work.

But on the plus side... i love work. it's awesome. And I'm actually serious about that, too... is there something wrong with me?

Well we all know there are a few weird things about me. But I'm harmless enough, really. And certainly not certifiably insane. Just a little kooky. When I'm a old lady people will call me eccentric.

I can't wait until tomorrow, for these reasons:

1. Work: trying to do a $2000 weekend, the store is looking great, airconditioning.
2: Shopping with mum after work - I have $70 of vouchers to spend mmm spending.
3: As yet unspecified activity of some sort with Joe - yeah, I'm soppy, we haven't spent the night together in a while and I just want to spend some time with him.

Well I guess it really is already tomorrow, so I should get some sleep, because before any of those great things comes the awful thing of getting up way too early.

night night everyone!

PS spoz - I'll post the picture I tried to send you soon.
PPS erin - thanks for not posting any really bad photos of me :) did you know how funny your name looks if you spell it eron? eron. weird. erin looks way much better.

Drinking fists of fury

2007-02-21T22:59:00.000+10:30

Yep, Saturday night went well... apart from that whole section where we were separated from Joe (in which time he managed to get kicked out of one place, refused entry to another, and have a tantrum and walk home). Anyway, I had a great time with friends, first at my place for some drinks, whack-a-mole championships and pizza, and then in town.

If I had any decent photos, this is where they would be! But it was my birthday, why would I want to mess around with a camera all night? I took a couple of fuzzy pictures on my phone, and left the photography to the experts. I'm sure you'll find the pictures if you look hard enough :)

I'm addicted to microwave popcorn. I find myself eating it at any time of the day or night. I buy the boxes of 5 mini-packs, to avoid eating a whole huge bag on my own. And the worst part is I'm not even buying the "light" variety now... it's the full-calorie, full-fat, butter and salt variety. But I just can't stop buying it and eating it.

My phone is pretty much dead. Half the buttons don't work. With any luck it'll fix itself up (again) soon... I don't want to buy a new one. It's still a relatively expensive phone, and I don't think I could happily go back to something less fancy pants. I certainly wouldn't want to part with any money to get anything less. But still... I guess there are options... On the plus side, I can switich carrier with no charges at all, and keep my number, which I didn't think I'd be able to do (I thought I'd have to pay some weirdo fee to do that).

I've been getting random headaches and random coughs. Twice last night/this morning I remember waking up coughing, and thinking I'd have to get up and take some codeine tablets or at least steal Joe's asthma medication to stop the coughing. Luckily both times I fell back asleep without taking anything. Not that I have any problem with medication - I just like to avoid it for as long as possible.

Work is going so well. I still feel warm and fuzzy and happy when I go there. I think it has something to do with... I hate to say it... working with children. They're so happy! And bright! And so, so human. They have all the good qualities of humanity, they have simple lives, and they absorb so much knowledge, so much emotion, so much of everything from their environment. It's really nice being around them. Not that I'm ready to have any of my own, but I'm enjoying being around other people's. Plus I can make so many more crazy faces now :D

Actually, I think one day I'd be a good parent. I'm in no rush. But I think it's something that, for most of us, if we wait until we can sit down and say "I'm Ready To Have Children;" we'll be in our 60s and retired and it'll be too late. When it happens, it happens, and if it ever happens to me, then I hope my relationship and my brain are strong enough to cope with it, adjust for it, and enjoy it. I'm pretty sure my heart and spirit would be.

Anyway, that's enough of an update. I'm going to look at sewing patterns and think about what I'm going to buy on Friday in town (shopping trip with Mum). I'll be getting a burrito for lunch too... yum...

Simone
(now 24 years old.... finally!)

I love it when you're breathless

2007-02-13T23:11:00.000+10:30

How was today?

Waking up the first time: good
Waking up the second time: bad
Skip breakfast to hurry to bus: bad
Bills in the mail: good (I hate waiting when I know they're coming)
Can't have lunch with Joe: bad
Spent the myerone voucher: good
Burrito: good
Crazy bus driver: bad
Seeing Roxy, Sparky and Texas: good
Violet Crumble: bad
Having sleepy relaxed time with Texas: good
Free dinner: good
Still hungry, ate crappy food all night when I got home: bad
Did some washing: good
Washed my dishes: bad
Changed the sheets: good
Cut out dress pattern: good
Watched NCIS and Desperate Housewives (taped): good
Realised dress pattern won't work with the fabric I have: bad
Bored: bad
Can't decide what to wear tomorrow: bad

Hmm... how does that add up? I need to know how many more good things I have to do tonight to get ahead.

I'm one up on goods. Well I guess if I'm careful, it becomes a good day by default...

Hope yours was good by design, not default.

Quarantined

2007-02-08T13:41:00.000+10:30

I have to move house. I can't have my kitten here, nor can I hide him here, so I have to move.

When I realised this, a few ideas went through my head. One of them was moving in with Joe. Enough people have asked why we don't live together, and we get on well when we go away together or spend a few days at a time together. So why not?

I thought about it for days. Then last night I realised something... I can't do it.

Not because we don't love each other - we do, and lots.
Not because I don't want to see him more - I could definitely handle that.
Not even because I'm scared to lose my own space or independence - although it's something to think about.

But because I'm a human stress ball. Not some cute-shaped squidgy foam toy, but a real-life worrying machine.

I can't relax.

I can't sit still or do just one thing at once.

I can't let an idea get into my head without acting on it.

I worry about everything... absolutely everything.

I'm more highly strung than a bungee cord at full stretch, or a chihuahua surrounded by mouse traps.

You know that funky (read: spastic) dance I do? Like a frog on a pogo stick, or a crazy flappy muppet? That's just me!

How can I ever subject someone to that, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? I need to sort myself out. I need to find a way to relax. It's getting worse these days; it seems I always have something to stress about in the back of my head. I have to learn how to sit still, how to shut down and relax a bit.

Of course... this was a bad realisation. I'm not fit to live with anyone, especially someone I care about. It would just drive me in a tight little spiral of worrying, stressing, being tense, anxiety... I'd bring the whole house down in no time.

On the bright side, at least I've acknowledged it's a problem. I've known it for some time... I've had other problems, and half-heartedly cast around for some kind of solution. But realising that I have a rather big anxiety issue makes it a little clearer. I have a direction I have to take to heal myself, or control myself, or whatever the solution is. Now the problem is clearer.

And maybe next time I get caught with a pet and have to move house, I'll be healed enough to think about living with someone else.

Work work work

2007-02-06T21:08:00.000+10:30

I got made permanent at work. Yay! From a Christmas casual to permanent casual. Everyone laughs when I say 'permanent casual', but seriously, casual is as permanent as any part or full time job these days. And I don't need sick leave - I'd just end up taking it all whenever I had a headache! Been there, done that, for years.

In addition to being trusted to open and close the store, I've been asked to work at and close the city store tomorrow. It feels great to be doing so well at work.

And it feels rather nice to have a regular pay check as well :) Even if some weeks I don't get many shifts, it's something. And I actually really enjoy the work. Who knew? It's so nice to leave my job at work at the end of my shift... not have to think or stress about it, or take work home. The only thing that comes home with me is the music... okay, it's Australian Idol-style music, but it's not that bad once you get used to it.

I visited Tex tonight at my parents' place. He was feisty, and I'm sure he's a little bit bigger already. He figured out how to get underneath the dishwasher! And my parents are, predictably, allowing him in the bedroom at night, despite my pleas to put up a cat barrier. I don't want him thinking he can sleep in the bedroom. It's just not on, especially since he makes Joe sneeze.

Joe's lost his spatula, and we can't find it anywhere. I heard once that what we call a spatula is actually an eggflip. A spatula is actually a blunt, thin, flat bladed knife.

Why does my heart feel so bad?

2007-02-05T23:30:00.000+10:30

That single line has been in my head since Friday.

On Friday morning I received a letter from my building's management about keeping a cat at the premises without authorisation. It said in no uncertain terms that I would not get authorisation. Evidently one of my neighbours saw Texas, and reported me.

Who would do something like that? Did they get in trouble for having a pet, and want to cause me the same loss?

Texas is living with my parents for now, until I find a new place to live. I haven't been evicted, in fact I haven't heard from my landlord at all, but I just don't want to live here without him.

Tex brightened every day. He was in my life for more than just company; he gave me something to look after, a little furry life that was my responsibility. And in return for looking after him, I got happiness, calmness (which I really need), and love. He helped me with medical issues I've had for ages - pet therapy has been proven to help all sorts of patients with recovery.

If only I could explain it to the building management.

But, from this I guess I'll have a new beginning of one kind or another. I like moving house, crazy as that sounds.

And at least I won't live next door to the creepy asian guy for much longer.

Birthday plans

2007-01-27T23:36:00.000+10:30

I am having heaps of trouble coming up with some birthday plans.

I had a great idea, but it turned out to be too hard and too expensive, so I'm saving it for another year...

So now I'm not sure what to do.

I figure the easiest way to get a whole heap of friends in the same place at the same time is to do something that a lot of them might be doing already - go out in town somewhere. So I figure that'll be where the night ends up; but I'm not sure where to start it. Dinner? Cocktails? Ice skating? Guess Who Tournament?

Anyway, keep Saturday February 17th in mind... that's the day before my birthday, and the night I'm planning on celebrating it.

Give me a B for Bored

2007-01-24T21:57:00.000+10:30

Lazy Wednesday night... just like my lazy Wednes...day.

Texas is getting bigger, but remains cute as ever. He's on my lap now, watching me type. He's been sleeping on me a lot the last few days; which I figure is a good thing considering my main complaint about cats is they're not affectionate enough.

Oh but yuck I've been giving him kitty milk and it's giving him bad wind. Really smelly. It combines really badly with the faint aroma of fake tan that's coming off my skin. Enough to make anyone's nose shut down for a while, except mine, which flatly refuses.

I read the other day a few complaints about people tanning/fake tanning. Personally, I bruise really easily, and on bright white legs, the bruises, cuts and scars show up a lot worse. That's why I use fake tan on my legs. As for my arms, they tan naturally - I do a lot of walking, and although I use suncream, it is never 100% effective. So throughout summer I've got a bit of a tan going on, not because I feel the need to conform, but because a) it just happens, and b) my legs are covered in embarassing marks.

I have an inspection on Tuesday; have to clean up. Tex is going on holiday at Joe's house for the day, so I don't get evicted and blacklisted. I also have to take down all my pictures and my mirror, and all the hooks that hold them up. My house looks so empty without them up, so I always leave that to the last minute.

I slept too much today. I also did my nails. Pink. And bright pink toenails. That's one good thing about having a lot of time on my hands - my nails are almost always done and my feet are so soft and smooth from the constant pedicures I give myself to pass the time.

I just read a really good book; The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. I recommend it to anyone who enjoys reading. It was originally written in Spanish, and is set in Barcelona, but the translation to English is beautifully done, you wouldn't suspect it's not the original language.

My knee is such a pain. It was feeling so much better yesterday that I thought I'd do some cycling today, until as I was getting ready for bed, I knelt down to pick up something and put too much weight on it - it was aching all night and has been rather sore today. Back to square one.

I'm making a dress for my birthday. I measured myself to get the sizing right, and decided to give up for the night (that was last night) when the sizing chart told me the correct size to fit my hips. That dream I had about being on The Biggest Loser just keeps coming back! Oh don't get your knickers in a knot, I know my body is fine, it was just a weird dream. And this is some strange European pattern, so their sizing could be a bit bizarre.

Well my head is throbbing from the fake tan smell (Tex has stopped passing wind for the moment). I better get out of this small room and get some air...

I'm up early

2007-01-19T07:14:00.000+10:30

Texas is meowing loud, he just went to the toilet and I think he's rejoicing in the fact he's a bit lighter and can race/leap around the house even faster.

Uni enrolment opens for my course today... at 9am. I wasn't sure what time it opened, so I got up early to check.

Kitty on my foot.

Ouch, kitty eating my foot.

I half want to stay up another two hours to get in first with enrolment... I wonder how many other people in my course are doing this? Would I even make it two hours before I fell asleep again?

How likely is it that everyone else wants to enrol in the same tutorial times as me?

Let me see... one course I want to do external, if I can, otherwise the tutorial immediately after the lecture. That might be a popular choice. The other class that has a tutorial, I want the 9am one... maybe not so popular, considering it's so early in the morning. Hmm.

Nah, I'm going back to bed. If Texas lets me.

Crazy in nothing

2007-01-17T21:25:00.000+10:30

I just read that I shouldn't use my hand as a biting-toy for my kitten. Ooops... he's biting me a lot lately, maybe I should stop that. I figured he's teething or something. Sharp little fangs.

Feeling hot, and tired, and irritated.

Not with kitty, he's the cutest thing ever. Almost too cute. I'm considering checking to see if he's some kind of mechanical experiment sent here to out-cute everything else on earth.

I slept so much today. I got up early to go into work to learn how to open the store. Then I went into town, and got home just as the weather was heating up, around 10am. Then I went to sleep for a while. Then I had lunch. Then I went to sleep for a while. Then I wandered around the house, washed dishes, watched the weather report on the news, played with Texas, had dinner, watched tv, altered some pants, painted my fingernails, got bored (more bored) and came online.

I have most of the windows open, to let in the cool breeze from outside. It should be cooler tomorrow. I can't wait for the rain. I'm looking forward to a weekend of crappy weather; I think I'm in the right frame of mind for it.

How do you feel when you give someone something from inside and it's ignored?

Note... don't take me seriously. I write stuff. Not important stuff. Stuff that skips through my mind at a million miles an hour. Things that get put down on the screen to get them out of my head, whether they're right or wrong, good or bad, whether or not I agree with them in a few moments' time. I'm sorry in advance.

I hate being ignored in any way. It's just one of those things.

I'm looking forward to tacos. I haven't had tacos in ages.

I don't want ice cream, or chocolate, or cookies, or anything like that.

What if I'm uncomfortable with something completely reasonable? Isn't it bizarre how things work. Spend a week with you but not see you at all. Miss you without a reason. Is this demanding? I try not to be demanding; it's so wrong. Like nagging, like arguing, like being unreasonable.

But on the other hand, it's me, and if I feel crap, then I need help, that's just the way it is.

You always help. There's no accusation that you don't. But I feel bad to ask.

It's too hot in here.

And that's the moral of this story: that it's too hot in here. Too hot in this room, too hot in my brain, because I'm thinking, writing, saying, doing all the wrong things today. I didn't mean it badly. I didn't mean to sound like I'm annoyed with you. I wanted at the end to say that you are perfect, that you help me, that you know me, all that stuff I've said before. All that stuff I've said and lived and breathed and written and loved.

Sometimes I just need to get the thoughts out of my head. I can't take photos. I can't write fun stuff. I need to just write me-stuff.

I can try not to.

Texas Love Cat

2007-01-12T12:08:00.000+10:30

I've been thinking about getting a kitten for a while now. It's not that I mind living alone - I quite like being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want - but I've always had pets before. I grew up with lots of animals, and it's been a year since my goldfish Alexander died, so I've been feeling a little lonely in some way. Maybe it's because I like having something to care for, or maybe I just like the company of another living being in my house. I don't know.

But yesterday, I popped into a pet shop to check out kitty supplies, and I found the perfect kitten - grey and white, with a spotty belly and stripy legs and face. He was playing with his litter-mates (mostly brown/brown and white, and one black one), jumping around. He jumped up with all four paws against the glass enclosure, so cute! I couldn't resist. So I organised to get him home with a little help from Dad....

Here's Texas Love Cat (Tex, for short) escaping from his cardboard box at Dad's office:

When I got him home, with the essential kitty supplies of a litter tray, litter, litter scoop, food and toys, it was time to start exploring... One kitty step at a time.

Thongs are one of his favourite toys.

He has the cutest, softest little paws.

Before long he fell asleep on the couch. I couldn't resist any longer and sent Joe this mms:

I was going to just surprise Joe the next time he came over, but I had to share the kitten happiness with him. He came over right away and we spent the night playing with Tex, until sleepiness got the better of the new kitty (I'm now realising that he can sleep anytime, anywhere). We even coaxed him into his bed with Cookie Monster for a while... although he preferred to sleep on the back of the couch, near our heads.

This morning he spent a good 10 minutes chasing wrinkles in the sheet on the bed, after I let him in (kitty does NOT sleep in the bedroom - it's off limits at night time). This led me to call him Skitso Nutso; he went absolutely crazy!

Here he is doing some more exploring - he was allowed into the spare room today, since I cleaned it up a bit.

He wanted a cookie. Long-neck cat!

And he also seems to like helping me type... although I think he just likes to be with whatever I'm concentrating on.

Right now he's asleep resting on the corner of my laptop, curled up on my desk. He's only tiny; the pictures don't show how small he is. I think he's about 6 weeks old; the pet store didn't seem to know much about kittens.

I've always been more of a dog person, but since I live in a little apartment, a kitten is more suitable. And I figure if he grows up with me, he'll be trained better to suit me.

He's gone to the toilet three times so far, all in his litter tray! (very good kitty... I was scared I'd be doing more toilet training) He seems to be a happy, healty, curious, sweet, excitable little guy.

Texas Love Cat, also known as Harry Hairy Head, Fluffbucket, Skitso Nutso, and of course, Munchkin.

Drinking my fruit

2007-01-09T21:44:00.000+10:30

I'm drinking two pieces of fruit.

I find eating fruit to be too tiresome, unless it's watermelon or rockmelon or pre-washed grapes. It's lucky I now have a great blender, so I can liquidise (or at least mushidise) my fruit. I've discovered you can fit a whole orange and mango in one glass. No need to chew! No mess on the fingers! Drink your fruit anywhere!

Okay, you kind of have to chew a bit. But it's more using your teeth to strain your drink a bit, because the blender doesn't have the pulp-extracting features that my juicer has. So minimal chewing.

Also, try drinking your next piece of watermelon. Mash it up with some ice - very yummy.

I'm like my own little Boost Juice here.

Post Christmas sickness

2007-01-08T20:11:00.000+10:30

I had a gastro virus between Christmas and New Year's... ouch. It was awful. I hate anything to do with bowels and absolutely despise vomiting (to the point where I can normally psych myself out of it, convince my digestive system not to pull the "reverse" switch), so a 3 day gastric clean-out wasn't on my list of Christmas gifts. I know the culprit who gave it to me, too (Joe also got sick, and was feeling icky in the stomach before dinner that night), and if he wasn't small and cute, well I'd be a lot more annoyed.

New years was great, a massive party pulled off perfectly. I'm sure Joe will write a massive blog about it, so if you want to know more, go there in a month or so. I don't record events any more, it's too time consuming, and the point of this thing is somewhere to get things off my mind, and I'm not really that concerned with the happenings on new years.

You know something's up when I don't even particularly want the pizza that is sitting some 5ocm away from me. It's a pretty good one too, home-made, cooked to perfection, smelling nice. But somehow, I just can't seem to care.

The gastro took a heap of chemicals out of my system, resulting in a massive imbalance that I've been trying to correct, with mixed results. Left on my own tonight I'm feeling down as a... thing that's very close to the ground. I've come to the conclusion, from a few medical/biological proofs and just observation, that I'm pretty much a slave to my emotions and hormones, both of which are liable to spiral out of control with any kind of crazy imbalance. Fun on nights out, yes, but not fun when you're not feeling great. One day I'm sure I'll be pregnant; imagine the fun then!! I already pity the people who will have to be around me then... though with any luck I'll be heaps of fun at least half the time :)

Anyway, the point of this story is that I feel rather ick tonight. Don't really want to do anything, except maybe later make some mango and orange juice (with my awesome new blender that I received for Christmas). But that would involve washing the chopping board and a knife, and later taking the rubbish out.... so I'm not so sure I'll do it.

But hey, never fear! I'll be feeling better tomorrow, and the next day, and I'll get completely better soon. Just takes a little time, that's all :)

I dreamed about Cog!

2006-12-20T13:09:00.000+10:30

Yes, indeedy I did!

So, it started kind of weird, but morphed into me, Joe and Spoz at some music festival. We had seen some band and heard an announcement that Cog were playing, so we all rushed over to that stage. I scrambled in to the front and stood up on this barrier thing encircling the strangely-shaped stage (it was like a big semicircle, with curtains and everything like a traditional stage), and stood there and asked Flynn whether he remembered me, from when I interviewed him. He was like, yeah, I remember, but he was also talking to other people. They had two or three hired dancers on stage as well, in sparkly silver costumes, but they weren't that good.

Anyway, they played, and afterwards I hung around the stage and ended up on stage, with the curtains around the stage drawn, separating the stage from the audience. The guys were packing up and just chatting, and so I spoke to Flynn again. About now the stage morphed into some kind of gymnasium, with Joe and Spoz and a group of other people waiting for me outside the doors, and me inside chatting with Flynn and Luke. I remember one or both of them saying something like "yeah, I know you from (some photo or other in Joe's blog)". I was walking towards the doors to leave and asked Flynn "could I have a hug?" He gave me a hug and said something like "you don't ask for much," to which I replied "I could have asked for a lot more, but I'm a very faithful person." (I think I gave him a stern look at this stage, suggesting that he may be a very cool musical genius but that doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with him). Then he said something about email addresses, so I agreed to write mine down, but it took me about 6 tries because I was so nervous that I couldn't hold the pen straight enough to write. I wrote down my phone number as well, then left the gymnasium/stage through a window, and jumped down and very excitedly told everyone where I'd been.

So there you go. Weird. I left out some details, because they were totally random and a bit fuzzy. But all in all... awesome!

You move like I want to

2006-12-19T18:00:00.000+10:30

Tonight... I feel like...
more.

Okay, for a while I've felt like more.

But ... it's not just up to me.

It's weird.

It's because I have too much time on my hands.
Because I'm sick of my own company (sometimes, anyway).
Because I'm a dreamer.

Anyway, it's not really important.

Just felt like telling you.

You breathe, and then you stop.
I breathe, and dry you off.
Tonight, I feel like more.

Friday I'm in love

2006-12-15T14:39:00.000+10:30

Well, not really. At least no more or less than any other day.

Today I'm accomplished. I got up at 10am (that's early for me, by at least an hour), had breakfast, watched the taped second half of Beauty and the Geek (!!! I skipped onto this last night while checking the weather on teletext, which is on channel 7, I love teletext weather, and got hooked on the episode, so had to tape the end because Joe was falling asleep on the couch and it was a good time to go to bed), I watched the 11:30am news, read, cycled, ate lunch (okay it was more a snack but if I don't have good food, I don't like eating, and my cupboards are full of pasta but no sauce, soup, and a thousand jars of various mustards and things in vinegar), finished the book I was reading, painted my fingernails and toenails...

So now it's almost 3pm (or is it? I think my computer is lying to me about the time) and I have nothing to do. Again. So sick of this. Not that the daily pedicures I'm giving myself aren't good - I have the smoothest feet ever! - but I'm a little sick of waiting for the laundry basket to fill up enough to justify doing washing because it's something to do.

But I shouldn't complain. With any luck, in the next week or two I'll get my Christmas-time roster and have a few more shifts at work, which keeps me busy. And I should do some German revision before uni starts again, oh and sort out enrolment just as soon as they finally post the class times for next semester.

I could always clean the oven and shower. I was giving them a critical look (the one that usually precedes me diving headlong into housework, armed with rubber gloves, a scoury sponge and whatever disinfecting/cleaning/polishing materials I can find) last night, and they were saved only by the fact that the light wasn't really good at 10pm and Joe turning up on my doorstep with one of my two favourite types of chocolate (he is the best. THE BEST.).

But I don't really feel like housework. As I said, I just did my nails. And they're dark purple, which will chip or peel or smudge before Saturday night if I'm not careful. Due to my financial standing, this is cheap nailpolish, it's thick and awful to put on, and the brush is just disgusting. I've learned now: when I want a nailpolish, show it to Mum and she'll probably buy it for me (she is the best... oh wait, I've already said Joe is the best. Well, Mum is the best mother ever. THE BEST.).

Soooo... this weekend. Well tonight I am doing a big, fat load of nothing at all. I'll be honest: I have $10 in my purse, might be able to scrounge a few 20c pieces from the piggy bank, and nothing available from any bank accounts (unless I get one of those Monopoly Miracles: There has been a bank error in your favour, collect $100!). I actually chopped up (sniff) my proper bank account visa card, replacing its spot in my purse with the boring non-visa ATM card. Not that I ever used the visa part of the card (except to recharge my phone and for automated payments), but still, chopping up all this plastic is a little depressing. Not to mention it's bluntening my scissors. And I can't afford a new pair.

So, anyway, where was I before I got all self-involved on the no-money rant? Well, this is my blog, it's all about me, so the self-involved bit is kind of a given. Anyway. This weekend. Tonight: nothing, nada, nil, zilch, zero, zip. I'm probably going to make turkish bread bruschetta for dinner, finish the chocolate Joe so innocently left in my fridge (yes, I used to think keeping chocolate in the fridge was a little weird too, but I'm hooked now, it's like a drug, mmmm cold chocolate....), and watch tv movies. I haven't seen either of tonight's offerings so maybe one will keep my attention.

Tomorrow night is Erin's birthday, and apparently someone else's, though I have no idea who that may be. But I can't stay out late - taxis cost more than the $10 I have - so I'm heading home on the last bus, which for me is around 11:30pm. I'm also doing something lovely and charitable and - okay this is the real reason - something I LOVE doing on Sunday: wrapping presents!! I've volunteered to help Rach and her friend do a gift wrapping service to raise money for the Fred Hollows Association (it's all the rage these days to raise a ton of money for a charity, then that charity pays for you to travel to a third-world country for a holiday of trekking around the place). One of my favourite things about this time of year is, and this may sound weird to you, deciding how I'm going to wrap my gifts for people, and wrapping them.

Yes, I'm a Christmas Gift Wrap Crazy Person. I theme-wrap. Everything matching, or co-ordinating. I used to do this to my parents' tree decorations as well - strict colour themes enforced by me throughout the years mean my parents now have a hundred boxes of various coloured decorations for one small tree (my favourite was the Red and Purple year). If they put them all on the tree at once, you wouldn't see any green (I think I tried this no-tree-just-decorations theme one year as well. Not so successful). Anyway, this year I'm wrapping my gifts in coloured tissue paper, covered in silver tissue paper and clear cellophane, tied with silver and white fabric ribbon, with scraps of interesting red paper for gift tags. Pretty! And cheap, too. Tissue paper and cellophane can be bought from variety stores for about $1 per pack, and that's where I bought the ribbon too. The scraps of red paper are from my own massive collection of miscellaneous stuff.

A lot of people don't care about the wrapping; and fair enough I guess. Most people do just tear the paper off and shove it in a bag and throw it out. But it's something I've always enjoyed doing, and so I like to do it well. It's cheap - there is absolutely no need for those expensive $8 rolls of wrapping paper! - and easy to do. And it shows you've put a bit of thought into giving. Giving a gift should be beautiful from the moment you hand it over. It shouldn't be all about what's inside the paper; the fact you are lucky enough to have enough money to buy or make something for someone should be the first thing to smile about. Then a bit of effort to make it look nice, well I know I appreciate that.

Actually, a long-standing tradition for me (okay I've only done it once before, but I meant to do it more often!) is to bake gingerbread men for my family and friends for Christmas. I love making the labels for the bags (you can get food-grade bags from a lot of newsagencies and even Charlesworth used to sell them to you), baking and icing the gingerbread men, then enjoying them with people. Yum. Easy. Cheap. Fun.

This year I feel like I shouldn't be getting any gifts. My parents and grandparents have given me a lot, lent me money, given me money, bought me things, and it's helped me to survive and be able to keep studying rather than have to return to full-time work (if I could even find anything suitable!), and allowed me to keep living on my own (although I have had to move house). And Joe has been the best (I think I already mentioned this :) ), putting up with all my ups and downs and everything in between, and never stopping loving me. So I feel like I already have everything.

...but that doesn't mean I'm giving back the awesome red blender with the glass jug that Mum "accidentally" showed me to make sure she'd bought one I'd like :D

......and I'm not going to stop giving Joe hints on things I like :D

.........and I'm definitely not going to give all the gingerbread men away. There's always a mongy looking one that you just have to eat yourself!

So, as my el-cheapo packet of not-blu-tack (I believe it's called "Power Tack") says:

Tear it off, Roll it up, Stick it on!

And have a great Friday :)

Exes are weird

2006-12-14T12:58:00.000+10:30

Not all of them. Some are fine, fading away into distant memory, never surfacing.

When I was young (too young) I went out with my first boyfriend. His name was Simon (lots of funny jokes there... Simon and Simone, Simon(e)), and he was a friend of my brother's. He knew my family, and I'd had a crush on him since I was 8 years old. Anyway. We went out for a while, and it didn't work. But his close relationship with my brother meant that he wouldn't be out of my life. Painful for a girl who was mature for her age, but still not equipped to deal with this kind of thing. We stayed "friends", occasionally speaking when we ran into one another, usually about how bad my brother was getting with his drinking - it's the one thing we've always had in common.

So fast forward a few years, to new years 2004/05. It was one of the rare and pointless times where my brother wasn't drinking (for a few weeks anyway; it was the holiday season that pushed him off the wagon again), and was actually living with Simon. I stayed there for new years, and not surprisingly, the ex tried to sleaze onto me. Sigh. It didn't work - I have a strong "never go back" rule, and anyway, was a long way past being attracted to him.

I pretty much didn't talk to him much, until earlier this year. He works with mobile phones, and I wanted a price on one... so I suggested we meet up for a coffee to catch up. I was pretty sure he was seeing someone, and I definitely was, so there wouldn't be any fruitless trying to get into my pants. I got a text back, that pretty much said he was in something good with someone and is a bastard, it would be hypocritical for him to meet up with me. Which, expanded, means he was being a controlling freak over his girlfriend, and meeting me for a coffee would cause trouble.

What the hell?

This spawned a huge anger in me, which simmered away for ages. Am I nothing more than an ex girlfriend? Years of him being like an older brother to me (until I got old enough to date, anyway), and all the nice things I'd done. When he was clearly incapable of looking after his pet dog, I took him away from him and gave him proper food and space to run around, a new collar and a clean bed, until he got better. When he'd been experimenting with drugs for god-knows-what reason, I'd been there to sit with him on the come-down days. I did a heap of nice things that I don't even remember (I just know I was young, naieve and devoted, as you are when you're still a teenager).

So I sent back some crappy text message and deleted his number and went on with life, pretty much shoving him away to some mental filing cabinet and not caring any more (that's where I keep my brother too).

Now, fast forward again to last Friday, when I bumped into Simon on my way to work. I did the nice thing and listened to how his work was going, his plans to move to the gold coast in January for a job he's been offered. And said goodbye, and that was it.

Until sometime around 3 on Saturday night, when I got this message: "It was great to catch up with you again. Sorry for the late message, couldn't sleep." I only read it when I got up the next morning, and considered replying, but decided to just ignore it. I have no desire to have some kind of friendship with him. A while ago I went about getting rid of people who have a negative impact on my life, and he was on that list.

Then... Monday night I got another text, at 11:30pm. "You probably hate me, but I can't sleep, do you want to come over and watch some dvds?" WHAT??!?! This freaked me out so much that I just kind of stared at the phone for a while. Where, between the 5 minute conversation and me ignoring his previous text message, did I look like I was available for midnight dvd watching? Where in that is the open invitation??

I decided this had to be stopped, and ignoring the message wouldn't give him the right idea. So I replied "I don't hate you, much as I've tried once or twice, but I'm not comfortable watching late-night dvds, I'm in a really great relationship with someone."

I should also mention here that this guy is in his 30s.

He replied saying "that's really good, you deserve it. Sorry for being pathetic."

And I thought, yep, that was rather pathetic. And just plain weird.

When I was really young, I probably said stupid things that you do when you're a teenage girl, like "I'll always like you" and stuff. Did he take this seriously? Does he think "there's always Simone"? I'm not like that; in fact up until recently, even in a relationship I think I would have been a bit hidden, untouchable. I've certainly never given the impression that I'd be available for casual sex (have I??). That kind of thing just isn't for me.

So yeah, I was freaked out about this. It was too late to call Joe and tell him how weird this all was, so I just went to bed and laid there wide-eyed, thinking about where I may have gone wrong to invite such attention. And what went wrong for him, too... I know he has his own problems, he's never been a happy person, but trying to get me to come over must be kind of scraping the barrel looking for some affection.

Poor guy.

Dr I'm-A-Tool

2006-12-06T12:50:00.000+10:30

Saw my least favourite doctor yesterday.

I've seen a lot of doctors. The one who had just been to a 2-day seminar on fibromyalgia, so tried to convince me that's what the little sore spot in my back was. The one who throws drugs of all types at you. The one who doesn't believe in patient/doctor confidentiality between family members. The good one, who listens and gives good advice and only prescribes drugs when it's the right thing to do.

And Doctor I'm-A-Tool.

I hate him. He's annoying. I've been coughing up my lungs for over a month, but still... "it's probably a viral infection, and sorry, but there's nothing we can do about that. If I had a cure for the common cold, I'd be sunning myself on a beach somewhere!". Good for you. Would it help if I were nauseous, or coughing up blood?

If you ring up on the day you want an appointment, you almost always get this doctor. My theory is it's because nobody actually wants to see him; so they put him on day-by-day appointments, instead of taking appointments in advance.

It takes a lot to make me actually go to the doctor. So a month of coughing, which has reached the point where I find it hard to sleep or get any rest, and I figure I've got something a little nasty. But noooooo.... nothing wrong here, according to Dr I'm-A-Tool.

A whole long trip up to the doctors, and what's the diagnosis? Keep taking codeine, it's a cough suppressant. Rest. Drink water. If it's still around in a month, it could be asthma - come back then!

Arggggh! Just fix my stupid cough!!!

Yay 50th blog post

2006-12-05T00:54:00.000+10:30

I like dairy.

Mostly milk and cheese. Not a day goes past that I don't have some milk and cheese (unless I'm at someone else's house). I don't always have them together - in fact usually I have them separately - but I love cheese and I love milk.

Once when I was little I had a blood test and the results showed such a high level of calcium that they thought the test had been done wrong, and I had to have another one. Turns out I just drank a lot of milk. And ate a lot of cheese.

Mmm milk and cheese.

The cruellest cut

2006-11-30T13:55:00.000+10:30

I suck at anything to do with money, unless you count spending it. This is a bad situation for a barely-employed student living on their own, who likes to buy pretty shiny things and go out on the weekends.

I like to blame some of it on my family. Hey, a lot of life choices and basic skills are hereditary. My mum couldn't save money for anything, and my dad, well, he spends all his money on diving equipment and presents for mum. So they are a perfect match, even in their fiscal disability. At least two people in my family have been officially bankrupt, and all of us know what it's like to live on Centrelink payments. So yes... bad start.

On top of that is a sometimes expensive attitude of mine: being surrounded by beautiful things makes me happy. It's true - more so than comfort eating or anything, if I look good and am surrounded by nice things, I feel good. When I feel down I know that sitting around in a badly-fitting ripped t-shirt and old shorts isn't going to make me feel better - what works is having a shower, doing my hair, and sitting around in tight-fitting trackie pants and a tank top with shiny earrings and painting my toenails, preferably while unwrapping and de-labelling an assortment of new things I've bought. They don't have to be expensive - just have to, in some way, make my life a better place to be.

This week I found out I had $5 in my purse and a clean bank balance of about $19. This has to last me until Monday 4th December... that's a whole weekend away, and everyone knows weekends are the worst for spending money. I have two other credit cards I can draw money out of, at a huge interest rate, but thought they were fully drawn...

Last night, laying in bed, I decided I would get rid of all my money-sucking cards (with the exception of my regular visa card from my bank; it has automated payments coming out of it and doubles as my ATM card for my regular bank account). So this morning, I went and cleaned out the last of the money in the worst card, and proceeded in the cruellest cut of all.

Culprit 1: David Jones Store Card

Owing: $900
Interest rate: 22%

Culprit 2: Coles Myer Source MasterCard

Owing: $1200
Interest rate: 19%

Culprit 3: GE Money CreditLine

Owing: $4000
Interest rate: 28% (!!!!!!)

Ouch...

But hey, it's a start.

I have a casual job over Christmas/new years, in a clothing retail store. Hopefully I can save some of that money, pay off some of these cards... I've gotten myself into a deep, deep hole of financial distress, and I know it's going to be years before I'm out of it - years and a decent full-time job. So all I can do for now is stop spending money. Be smarter with the little that I have, stick to monthly repayments, do well at my Christmas job, stop going out and spending lots of money...

And try to find some comfort in the beautiful things I already have, because spending the occasional $20 on some cheap jewellery or a top that's on sale does add up.

Wish me luck!!! (I'll need it)

Just give me a second, will you?

2006-11-29T12:43:00.000+10:30

Let me just complain for a moment.

about my stomach that is full after being hungry all night... maybe because I don't actually have any of the food that I craved

about the weather that is warm and sucks the energy out of me

about my self-inflicted sore throat and cough that gets worse if I do anything that should make me feel better

about emotional hangovers that last long after the physical one has gone away

about the general lack of chocolate since Sunday night

about meaningless words

about the fact that I've washed all my dirty clothes and linen so can't even be comforted by laundry

about having to sell books for money for food for survival

about being such a whinger

about my phone, which now shuts itself off when someone calls

about my bruise-covered sensitive body

about the fact that today like any other day i'll be lazy at home

that's all... for now.

Flappy muppet a-bomb

2006-11-27T14:17:00.000+10:30

Ladies and gentlemen, ouch. That's all.

Massive weekend. I'm tempted to write about it as a warning to others - in no way do I want to condone/recommend the type of destruction I wrought upon my body (and possibly others' bodies too), but some if it was too funny (to me anyway) to be too serious about.

Friday night, Joe pushed me home from Rach's house in a shopping trolley we found along the way. That's craziness in itself. Add to that the fact that he left his keys at Rachael's and had to run back to get them... this brings me to Saturday morning: unpleasant. I slept most of the day, thank goodness, because I needed the energy for Rachael's birthday dinner and drinks that night...

Fast forward to Sunday afternoon, when I surfaced, and I have the biggest memory gaps ever. Whole hours have vanished, activities, interactions... chunks of time and things I did are missing. It's a bit scary, because I know I went too far.

Anyway, Saturday night. Rachael, Kylie and I started out with a few wines and a rushed midori-lemonade before walking to the bus stop, then changing our minds and going back to Rach's for a taxi and shoe-change. By the time we were at dinner and Joe and Grace came (they had to work all weekend, not fun), I was entertaining/embarassing all Rach's friends. I was recognised by someone from some crazy photo in Spoz's blog, too... "are you that girl with the white jacket and the lacy bra?" I'm never going to live that one down.

Anyway, onwards and eventually we ended up at Shotz... I don't remember drinking a lot there, I know I was sharing Smirnoff blacks with Kylie (one of those is definitely enough for two people) and taking silly photos, dancing like a flappy muppet and trying to convince Spoz to join us. Then before I knew it, I was cornering people (Spoz and Leigh and possibly Lee and Rich as well) and telling them a) how much I love them, b) how much their music is important, c) how cool their music is, even though I don't hear it often, and probably four hundred other silly drunk things. May I clarify, sober, for any of you who may be reading:
- Spoz: yes, yes, I had reached the "I loooove youuu" stage of my night :P
- Leigh: I meant what I said - Mondays are band days and this girlfriend isn't going to get in the way.
- Lee and Rich: I do like Tony Font Show, even if I'm bad at remembering songs/turning up to gigs/buying CDs.

Sometime at Shotz, I decided to change out of my heels and into some thongs I had in my handbag, from the trip to Rach's that afternoon. I'd like to point out that with the thongs on I couldn't dance, seriously, my feet stuck to the dance floor and my thongs actually broke various times - I had to repair them on the night. These are strong thongs. That shows you the sticking power of the Shotz dancefloor... kinda scary.

Before I go further, here are a couple of pictures from around this stage of the night, I was obviously too drunk to adjust the white balance...

Anyway, on with the story. A little after this, I noticed people had vanished... I asked someone (I think Spoz) and he said they'd headed to the cranker. So I grabbed Kylie and left to find people. Now, at the time, I thought I'd told people - Rachael, Joe, Leigh... - that we were heading over there. But apparently not... I'm still apologising (needlessly by now, the four hundredth time) for vanishing without a trace! When the guys turned up at the cranker, they weren't even allowed in, except to come and grab me. Of course, I was completely drunk and don't think I comprehended a) what time it was, b) that they weren't allowed in, c) that people had gone home, or d) that Joe, and possibly everyone, was annoyed with me...

But while at the Cranker, before clicking to the fact that I should go, I downed some tequila and beer with Lee (who by now I had begun to refer to as "tony" or "tony font"), had stolen one of his gloves again (what is it with me and accessories? Earlier in the night we had all been wearing that white jacket again) and apparently - this bit I don't remember - stacked it on the dance floor, taking people and drinks with me. Ouch. That explains my sore ankle and possibly my sore neck.

So, outside, more people vanished and I barely remember being out there. Joe, Spoz and I (apologies if anyone else was there... I have no idea) made it to Hungry Jacks, and I have a vague memory of a chicken burger and fries, and coke being spilled alllll over the place (looking at my dress, I think most of it was on me). Following was the walk to Hindley Street, now I'm not sure why Joe and I went that way - it's cheaper for Spoz to get a taxi there, but not us. Anyway, I remember jumping in some discarded boxes (stupid) and thinking about getting in the fountain again - but being discouraged. There was also some interaction with the pigs (I remember sitting on the ground looking at their name plaques) and something to do with a police car...

Then home. The taxi, well, I don't know. The driver had a turban. I was able to direct him to my place... where once out, I stuck my hand in my neighbour's letterbox (ouch, that explains the cuts on my hand), to see if he had any interesting mail (I think he's creepy and therefore it's my right to know if he's getting creepy mail)... Joe discouraged me from that, and that's all I remember.

When I surfaced on Sunday afternoon, because Joe had to return to work, I got up, had a shower (you should have seen my feet after wearing thongs at Shots/cranker), and - I'm sure I was still drunk at this point - went to the supermarket. This photo of the random stuff I bought shows how drunk I still was.

Yes, that's:
- a framed picture
- a massive block of cheese
- a tin of soup
- half a rockmelon
- pasta sauce
- wholemeal pasta
- dip
- who magazine (!!)
- cup a soups
- 2 minute noodles
- tin of spaghetti
- orange-passionfruit juice

What the???

As the afternoon wore on, I walked around the house and found a few other odd anomalies...

1. I slept on a bazillion pillows... including some from my couch

2. A pile of jewellery on my washing machine

3. A pile of cotton balls and makeup remover, for some reason on the chest of drawers in my nifty bathroom/laundry combo, next to the laundry hamper... but I never took my makeup off that night

4. This laminated invitation to the Shotz birthday party (huh??)

Also, I don't remember brushing my teeth, but woke up with a minty mouth...

Over the past couple of days, Joe's helped me fill in some gaps, and I hope to find out more as other people surface... (thanks Joe for trying to convince me we had sex and I forgot all about it)

The moral of this story: Getting stupidly drunk and forgetting stuff can be amusing, but it's bad bad bad for you. I'm still tired out, still not right in the stomach either. And I did some silly things - jumping in boxes, acting a fool in public, forgetting to tell my boyfriend and friends where I was going. I'm lucky I wasn't really hurt; how easy would it be for someone nasty to take advantage of me in such a situation? I could have been grabbed off the street, and would have been pretty much useless in fighting someone off. Not to mention the lasting damage to my liver, brain, skin, hair, everything that alcohol damages over time.

So I'll try to keep that in mind next time I go out for some drinks - it's no fun if you're stupid about it.

Uh oh, schlangers on the planger!

2006-11-21T11:53:00.000+10:30

Welcome back, me!

My own bed... ahhh that felt good. Not that a lumpy futon on the floor is bad, but there's something about your own bed, own bathroom, own fridge that is particularly welcoming when you get home from a holiday.

The week away was actually so big, that I don't know where to start talking about it. I think I'll wait until this evening or tomorrow, when I can get the photos of my mum's camera (lovingly lent to me) and post a couple.

I have to say... my body is hating on me in the biggest way at the moment. It's crying out for some love, some respect, some kind of treatment that will allow it to survive another 23 years, because at the moment I think it wants to stop now. Or at least hibernate for a few weeks. I've started my plan of stuffing it with vitamins (go the Swisse Women's Ultivite), vegetables and protein (essential for rebuilding broken stuff), and doing some more exercise.

Yes, this is a rather disjointed blog, but hey, it's my web-diary thingy, and I can write whatever I like.

... I'm alive, wooohoo!

Best holiday ever.

I am no longer sitting on a crate

2006-11-13T00:12:00.000+10:30

Today my mum bought me a proper desk chair, so it's goodbye crate, books and basket construction that's been my chair since moving here. It's a bittersweet moment...

Uni is finished for the year, that's one year survived. Yay... only three to go....

I've almost finished packing for our holiday, we leave Tuesday morning. Then I started vaguely watching television while painting my nails and thinking of things I'd forgotten to pack (always good to try to think of things you've forgotten before you actually get on the plane). I got bored of the late movie (Cocoon) before it finished though; I glanced back into the loungeroom (I can see the tv from the door to my office) and it looks like I missed the main part near the end. Oh well.

I'm just not tired yet... so many things on my mind. I'm still adjusting/unwinding from the last couple of weeks.

I've felt a lot of things, reacted in a lot of ways about new information, realisations, new beginnings and things like that over the past week or so. It's been a bit of an emotional ride, maybe not in the way of huge highs and lows, just a lot to process, and a bit of figuring out how I feel about things.

In all, I have to say that life is pretty good... of course there are things that aren't perfect, but at least I can recognise what they are, and know I'm on a path to making them better. Or if I have no control over it, then I can at least watch, from a safe mental distance.

I'm really looking forward to having a week away with Joe. It's going to be great to have a holiday, and I have to admit, fun to spend a whole week together, away from our normal surroundings, sharing a living space. And we're really lucky to be staying with Cody in Sydney - it's going to be great, just like Easter here was!

Well, not so exciting in the way of interesting or funny stuff tonight... but a little update in Simone-ness, a few words put down while I wait for some pages to load (I am one of the 3 people left in Australia on a dial-up connection...).

Have a great week, and I'll see you when I get back...

Simonebot

2006-11-08T20:21:00.000+10:30

Simone is currently unable to answer your call, but thanks for making the effort. We hope the brief information provided below can answer all your Simone-related questions.

Today:
- had a spontaneous (but really good) haircut
- ate unhealthy food
- skipped the gym
- slept in
- created a newspaper page

Tonight:
- must write most of an essay
- cannot get caught up and distracted
- am doing some laundry
- have snacks and caffeine to see me through

Tomorrow:
- must finish essay
- must create little advertisement graphics for newspaper front page
- must create news website
- must go to gym

Friday:
- essay due
- news design assignment due
- pick up German results
- first shift of new holiday job
- making special yummy celebration dinner
- will be exhausted beyond words

Felafel house is the new Hungry Jacks

2006-11-06T13:08:00.000+10:30

Yep, it's one of the important things I've learned this weekend. 6am? Drunk? Even Shotz is closing? Well, the place to be is the Felafel House on Hindley. Get yourself a hot dog with bun, sausage, bacon, sauce, cheese, and, wait for it.... eggs! Yes, eggs. Sounds bad. Tastes very very good.

Okay, I confess that sober october-novemberober-till Sydney didn't go as planned. But Saturday night was a great night to let loose and just be silly. Good people, good drinks (until the shots at Shotz... bad idea selling 5 for $12.50, and at that price you'd be right to assume they taste like milky kerosene), good variety of things done (saw some live music at Fowler's, ate some sausages in bread at Enigma, drank some drinks at the Cranker, danced a little at Shotz, crashed the emergency exit doors at Hungry Jacks, jumped in fountains in Rundle Mall, talked to drunk old man at Felafel House....). It was a fun night.

Something I realised last night, as I was a little restless trying to get to sleep, is that on Sunday when I first woke up (massssive headache, bad), I was even having fun when I was hung over. Joe was typing a text message and moving around on the bed and every part of that was annoying, but I still was kind of smiling. And later in the day we couldn't help laughing over it. Which all made me say, late last night... "even when I'm feeling crap, with you, I have a great time." Special.

Last week got stressful. I had two German exams - one oral, where the teacher and one other teacher asks you questions in German and you have to answer them in German, as well as read out a German passage from a German story and answer German questions about the German story in German, and the other one just a standard end-of-semester written test, in German of course. Stressful because I missed way too many German classes, in fact classes from all my subjects, this semester. I just was having a bad time with it. No motivation, all hesitation. But I got there in the end, and am sure I scraped through with at least the 55% required to continue with German studies next year.

I have to go to the supermarket. I'm sitting here, at almost 1:30pm, in a nifty combo of jeans, thing I slept in, dressing gown, socks and slippers, eating spicy noodles. Noodles chosen mostly because they took dishes that were actually clean to make - most of my dishes are currently dirty on the sink. That's why I haven't had my morning glass of milk yet; all the normal glasses are dirty, so I'm having water from the same glass I used last night. I really should finish getting dressed and head down to Coles.

Only two more assignments and uni is done for the year!

Can't wait to go to Melbourne and Sydney, it's just over a week away now. I can't believe it's so close. It seemed like a lifetime away when we booked the tickets months ago.

Okay. I will get dressed now... no, really, I will....

Women don't look good in shorts

2006-10-23T22:17:00.000+09:30

It's not as if they look bad, they just don't do anything for the female form. Unless they're tight little hotpants, that is.

I'm sorry, but any separate-leg-encasing fabric concoction that ends between the bottom and the knee, and isn't skin-tight, just doesn't do anything for women. No woman looks good in shorts. They may not look bad, but they don't look good.

Which is why this new fashion of shorts over tights is giving me the jitters. Have you noticed how weird it looks? First, shorts of that length rarely sit well unless you have a stick-figure, in which case you maybe shouldn't be flaunting your twig-like legs. Shorts make your bottom look bigger than it is, unless you have no bottom, in which case they makes your legs look teenyweeny, in an unhealthy way. Now, add tights to the equation. The tights are staticky, stretchy fabric that the fabric of your shorts is going to stick to, causing gathering between the legs and at the front/backs of your legs whenever you walk.

It just doesn't work.

Does anybody out there find it attractive? Alluring? What's wrong with sticking to time-honored traditions - if you want to wear tights, wear a skirt over them! If you want to wear shorts, then don't stick stuff under them! It's like that time when it was fashionable to wear a dress over your jeans. Please tell me nobody does that any more.

Also, please note that I look terrible in shorts, which is where this all came from - I don't profess to look good in them at all. In fact if you'd like proof, I'm going to a halloween party this Saturday and I'll be wearing shorts (but NO TIGHTS) to that as part of my costume, so feel free to come along, point and laugh at how wonky they make my legs look.

There is a saying that there is nothing like a stiletto to make good legs look great, and great legs look amazing. Well, there is nothing like shorts to make a good bum look blobby, and good legs look stumpy.

Feel free to disagree. All photos of you looking great in non-skin-tight shorts can be sent to me via myspace.

Slow motion

2006-10-16T22:41:00.000+09:30

Everything... on the internet... is going... in slow motion...

Such is life when you're back at home with dial-up.

In just a few weeks I'll have finished my first year at university. It really doesn't seem like that long - probably because you only have to go for half the year (around 23 of 52 weeks), and even then it's not every day.

I'm starting to consider how differently this year will end to how it started. Trying to look at what's changed is hard when I feel like I'm still moving. It would be easier to analyse the differences and see the growth if I were just more settled. I have a list of things in my mind that are "under construction", or "in progress", even "out to lunch, check back in an hour", and until I've resolved those, I don't feel like I can truly say what's changed this year.

And what about the future? Do you look at the future? Do you see something and think "yeah, one day I'd like to do that"? Do you ever daydream, wonder, imagine, some of the things you'd like to do? Do you ever look at the people in your life, and imagine your relationship with them a year down the track? I do. But I don't like telling people what I think about, because it's hard to explain it to anyone who isn't a regular dreamer. Just because I imagine what it would be like to have a child, it doesn't mean I want to do that, and it certainly doesn't mean I want to do it in the near future. It's like when I go shopping - just because I say something is nice, it doesn't mean I want it.

I like to appreciate the puzzling over things. What would happen if...? How do I think I would cope if...? If this and this happened, what would I do...?

I think one fear people who live wholly in the present must have is that if they think about the future, that's like planning, and planning for the future takes away spontenaity, it attaches your hope to the action. But to think about something isn't to say you hope it will happen, it's just to entertain your mind as to what might happen if it did.

Somebody teach me how to pick topics

2006-10-11T17:58:00.000+09:30

Really, I picked the worst topic to write an essay on. The thing is, when I picked it, it was to do an in-class presentation, and it was a good topic for that. But now that I have to write the supporting essay, it's a pain in the neck.

Uni seems to like huge lists of references, and for most of the text of your essay to be regurgitations of other people's work (in your own words and your own interpretation, of course). So a topic relating to media bias of a recent internetional event is a bit tricky to read up on - except for reading all the relevant newspaper articles, of course. But my opinion of whether it's biased? So far in uni I've had one essay where my own opinion was worth anything at all. The general rule is that if you have an opinion, you have to prove that someone scholarly has had it before you, and published it in a respected journal or, even better, a whole book. Considering the event we chose (in my presentation group) only happened a month or two ago... it's a bit of a tall order to get a book published in that time, let alone the 12 or so which are expected for a 1,500 word essay.

So I'm researching historical examples of similar bias, and bias in reporting on conflict in general (for our topic is the most recent bout of Middle Eastern conflict). And it's boring. And it's due tomorrow. So I have to finish it tonight.

My lesson is learned, though. I've already chosen from our multiple-choice options for the final essay this semester, and it's one that's got heaps of research materials available. I may even borrow some books from the library next week and get started on my reading...

Maybe.

A very sobering thought

2006-10-08T15:01:00.000+09:30

Ever gone to the bathroom to get a moment's quiet when you're out sober and everyone else is drinking, and wondered why you were even out?

I think it says a bit about the things we like to do, if we can only stand doing them with some kind of chemical mood alteration.

So take that one step further: ever had a weird, awkward conversation with someone when sober, who you normally gossip with for hours when you've been drinking?

All the things to ponder when you're:
a) not feeling too great
b) in the middle of your sober october
c) feeling downright crap
d) covered in cuts and scratches from pulling weeds out of the garden and trying to fix a fence
e) confused
f) simone

My pants seem to be broken

2006-10-05T21:52:00.000+09:30

When I was waiting for a bus today, a guy came up to me and asked whether I had a safety pin.

I had a cut-down version of a handbag today, so no safety pins.

He said he got to work and realised that the zip on his trousers was broken, and he was on his way home to change his trousers, then go back to work.

When the bus came, he decided it would be too embarassing to catch it with a broken zip, so he walked back to work to see if they had something there he could fix it with.

... I liked how he used the word "trousers". Not enough people use that word. It's all pants, pants, pants.

Also... I'm making a costume for something you would find in a jungle, for a jungle-themed party this weekend. If I had enough time, I would have gone as a panther, but due to the late notice, I'm choosing something a little easier. Can't tell you what... but I'll post some photos next week :)

PS, I caught a bit of David Tench just before I came online... does anyone else think Georgie Parker was drunk??? She was rather erratic. Maybe talking to a CGI character freaked her out. How do you think they do that show? I think they have a person, David Tench's voice, who does the interviews, then they take a week or two to animate him and show the episode.

Night.

PS I miss Joe. I feel so far away while I'm up here on my own.
PPS my brother called tonight, sobbing, which is a sign of having been drinking and now feeling sorry for himself (see why I went for Sober October?? Family history of emotional issues linked to alcohol). I had hoped he wouldn't call at all, or at least hold off until next week. Oh well, as long as that's the last time I hear from him while I'm here... which I'm sure it won't be. But fingers crossed. I already have a plan of what to do if he turns up here.

On my little wagon

2006-10-04T12:35:00.000+09:30

I'm going alcohol free until Sydney.

Yep, after being foolish on Saturday afternoon/evening and feeling worse for wear physically, emotionally and spiritually ever since, I'm going to jump on a little wagon of sobriety and try to get into shape, mentally.

After drinking I get paranoid, confused, I don't trust things, I get lonely, I feel all crazy inside, and it's seriously having a bad effect on all kinds of relationships (or at least I fear it is). So it's not just a day of feeling hungover, it's a mental hangover that, well, hangs over for a week or so.

So, to take care of my mind and heart as much as my body, it's no alcohol until I go to Sydney in November. My intake of energy drinks may go up though, to keep up with the crazy antics of my friends on any given weekend...

Nothing in particular

2006-10-03T17:26:00.000+09:30

I told you so, nothing in particular. Nothing to write.

I think of great blog stuff when I'm trying to sleep, but when I try to write it out during the day, there are too many distractions and I can't get anything to come out properly.

I had that bath last night, my skin is still recovering. Was awesome though.

Miss Roxy says hi, or more accurately, snufflesnufflelick. Sparky also says hi, but in the form of sniffsniffblinksneeze.

Back where I was little

2006-10-02T17:27:00.000+09:30

Yep, it's that time of the year again. Lately it seems like my parents are going somewhere exotic for a holiday every year (good on them for spending their money on themselves rather than their children). This time it's Tonga and I'm back at the family home to house and dog sit.

It's an easy job, really. My parents took me grocery shopping to make sure the pantry's full of goodies for me to eat, I brought some stuff down (my usual way of packing is just to bring my dirty clothes basket, since it has all the clothes I wore in the last week in it), and now I'm here.

Yep, it's me and the dogs, miles away from anyone I know, a 30 minute train ride from the city, and a 25 minute walk to the nearest supermarket. A walk that is all up and down hills. At least I won't spend any money. I've done most of my washing so I have clothes to wear, and I'm thinking of having a bath tonight. My parents have a huge bathtub, it's long and deep, so good for long legs. A good long soak is just what I need.

The thing is, I can never spend much time in the bath. I always make them too hot, and fill them up so full that you can't put more cold water in. In a bath that I make, by the time you're fully laying in the water, you're sweating profusely. When you get out - after sweating out all the moisture you had in your body - you're bright red all over and even after towelling yourself dry, you still feel kind of damp. It takes a good half hour for your heart to calm down and your body to come back to a normal temperature. From the amount of bubbles, bath oil, salts and anything else I can find that I put in, you actually need a shower to rinse off after the bath. Your hair goes limp, your skin goes tissue-soft (don't ever attempt to shave your legs in one of these baths, your blood is so close to the surface that a slight nick could leave you bleeding to death).

But a hot bath followed by bed, especially when you've got fresh clean sheets to slip between... I can only think of one thing that could make the night better.

And it's not chocolate.

Strange midnight phonecalls?

2006-10-02T13:31:00.000+09:30

I hereby apologise to anyone who received a strange phonecall at around midnight on Saturday night.

When I finally felt strong enough to look through my phone to see what I got up to on Saturday night, I found I'd made all sorts of phone calls to some interesting numbers at about the time I was in a taxi heading to collapse at Joe's house. And Sara, I'm sorry about the six thousand blanks SMSs it looks like I sent you... not sure why I even had my phone out! I think it may have been unlocked and sat on or something. I have no idea.

The moral of this story: don't drink for stupid reasons, and don't drink too many home-made weirdo drinks followed by a massive longneck of beer (which I believe I drank because it was cool that it came in a massive bottle).

The second moral of this story: Never go out without someone who will look after you and make sure you get home okay (otherwise I may still be in the toilets at Supermild, holding the door shut with one leg).

Will this make me beautiful?

2006-09-27T14:41:00.000+09:30

Watching daytime tv, you see a lot of ads for face creams, shampoo, body wash, makeup... if you did everything people suggest, you'd spend a thousand dollars a month on beauty products and an hour each day putting stuff on and washing it off, cleansing, toning, moisturising. This all makes me think, what exactly is my beauty regime, why do I do it? How much time do I spend on this? Is it expensive?

Well, no, it's not expensive. I rarely buy new stuff, unless it's on special. My makeup is all cheap, things you can buy at the chemist (preferably National Pharmacies, because I get 20% off). I spend a few minutes in the morning and a few in the evening on my 'beauty' regime.

Shower time: wash with sorbolene body wash, wash face with anti-blackhead scrub (icky oily nose pores), wash hair every 2nd - 3rd day with pantene shampoo and conditioner.

After shower: tone face with witchhazel, moisturise with loreal pure zone moisturiser, moisturise legs/body every 2nd - 3rd day with random cheap plain-looking moisturiser.

Hair: spray with cheap protective spray, blow dry, straighten, once or twice a week. Smear random cheap product through hair.

Makeup: not every day. Mascara, blush. Eyeshadow. Going out? Eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, blush.

Constantly, repeatedly: lip balm

Every night: remove makeup

Bonus: every now and then, or if I've been out drinking a lot, anti-ageing (Garnier Stop) eye cream and night face cream.

In bed: moisturise hands and feet and sometimes knees and elbows with Body Shop almond oil cream.

Hair specialties: when I can afford it, $200 on cut and colour, worth every cent.

I guess only time will tell whether it's all worth it.

At least my skin feels nice :)

Hi, I'm Simone

2006-09-27T14:30:00.000+09:30

my hobbies include making paper, sewing, cooking, walking and reading. I like going out and staying out until dawn.

I compulsively chew gum after every meal. It's to get the food bits out of my gappy tooth (near the back, right hand side) where a filling fell out.

I'm a peaceful person not a purple people eater.

No timeframe for what i've gotta do today

2006-09-22T14:49:00.000+09:30

How strangely life turns around. I like to think I turned mine around myself, that I've been in control of most of the life-changing decisions. I'm not sure whether it was really me, or whether I was just able to trick everyone into believing it was me.

Becoming a student... well I did the application forms, I told everyone it was what I wanted to do... but had I not lost my job, would I have gone through with it? I wanted to leave where I was working, but I might have kept on that path, kept working, earned more money, spent every day giving fake smiles to people I don't particularly like.

Now if I meet someone I don't particularly like, I don't have to fake-smile at them. Okay, well maybe I do, when I see people I'd rather not see.

What defines you? What defines me?

Is it that I like to go out on the weekend and stay out until dawn, dancing to alternative-pop music, then calm down over hungry jacks? Or is it that the next day I like to go on a massive walk to get some air, to get away from cars and toxins and humans?

Is it that I'm a 'mature aged' student, at university for the first time at 23, doing a double degree that surely leads to some interesting and upper-class career? Or is it that I don't turn up to all my classes, don't know what kind of job I want out of it, and consume more daytime tv than lectures?

Something really annoyed me on Oprah the other day. They had this guy on whose fiancee had left him just before their wedding. So he had some 'brideless wedding' and went on the honeymoon with his brother, and then wrote a book about it, and is now some kind of hero.

Fine. But then on tv he was saying how he saw his ex somewhere, and just went up to her, gave her a hug, and thanked her.

TOOL!!! Twat, tool, arse, doofus. Whatever.

It makes me want to write a book about the other side of this story, because I'm sure it's similar to mine. I already have the title, it's "I stayed with you for your dog, you made me miserable every day, couldn't care less if you had a nice holiday, go get a life."

Everyone ignores the facts. I'll point some out to you now.
- if she walked out, there was a problem, and problems are caused by two people, not one
- weddings, once started, are like tidal waves, very hard to stop. no doubt she would have left sooner if she'd been able to
- you are not a hero for being part of a broken relationship
- you are not a hero for ending it
- you are not a hero for staying in it for the sake of the kids, parents, pets, whatever

I get annoyed about things that really don't matter. I get upset about things that don't matter. I think too much about things that don't even register a little blip on other people's worth-thinking-about radars. When I can't think of anything to say, I ask random questions.

But that's why you love me, right?

Cross cultural understanding

2006-09-19T19:34:00.000+09:30

The first tutorial I attended for cross cultural understanding involved us sitting on the floor in groups and picking out little scraps of paper with words on them. The words we chose were supposed to reflect our cultural associations, so by the time we had 10 scraps of paper, we had our own personal cultural identity (within the realm of the tutor's imagination, anyway, since we chose from her selection of words).

Mine were

woman
independent
optimistic
friend
educated
australian
daughter
artistic

I'd like to change 'artistic' to 'imaginitive', otherwise, that's the best I could do.

Yes, I only chose 8. There were lots of cool things, but not necessarily things I thought were culturally important.

My tutor thought it was odd that I chose 'woman' and not 'feminist'. I tried to explain the difference... I believe being a woman is culturally important because in my culture, women get to dress up and look pretty and I like the attention that doing that brings, from my friends, family and people in general. You get treated better when you look better, that's just how things work. And I have no problem with it being that way.

Whinger

2006-09-18T13:48:00.000+09:30

After my last self-absorbed and super negative post, I was rescued by Joe and Spoz. They launched a joint attack that culminated in Joe at my doorstep with pizza (I had no food) and telling me to 'get dressed, we're going out'.

And I had a great night and great weekend... so thankyou :)

Time for bed

2006-09-16T02:07:00.000+09:30

I've tried this already, a few hours ago. About 4 hours ago.

I also went to bed for a nap this afternoon. It was just one of those unmotivated days. Sitting reading a book in front of a repeat episode of Ready Steady Cook, I thought, what's the point? I'm tired. I got up early. I'm going to bed.

I love the afternoon nap.

Unfortunately I didn't wake up until the phone rang at 5pm, with bad news. I then got up, sat around for a while, and sulked quietly about having no money and nothing for dinner. A scrounge in the piggy bank came up with enough change for some pita bread to make another pizza.

So the next time I went to bed was about 10pm. I went to bed because I didn't want to sit with the heater and tv on in the loungeroom, and feel silly laying on the couch reading if I could be in bed. So I went to bed, and finished the book.

Silly idea - reading in bed is the quickest way to train your body that bed is not a place for sleep, but a place for laying awake and thinking. So I end up reading job ads online at 1am.

And now it's past 2am and time to go to bed again. I'm hungry, I have no money to go out tomorrow night (and it's not because I spent money going out last weekend, because I didn't, but because I unfortunately had to spend money on things like food and gas and rent), and I have a headache.

So all my faithful readers, I hope you had a fantastic weekend, because it's only Friday night and mine sucks already.