Transcendence

I'd like to be above and beyond it all.

Or at the very least enveloped in an endless vacuum of words and sound.

This clip suits my mood right now. To quote Adam its all "dreamy and muddied and pretty like that".

Buzz, Bzzzz

My head is jumping frantically between pounding and buzzing, my muscles alternating between pain and shakes.

My insides are basically a swimming pool but on the upside my kidneys arn't THAT sore to touch anymore.

All the words of the articles are starting to merge on the page, but alertness strangely piqued.

Oh detox, how I love you. :)

Scientists...

are coming. :)

Beta chewiness and shrill glee

The pads of my fingers are raw and my left hand now has this awesome bionic woman claw-like action. And a hint for the children out there, no matter how fun breaking strings SOUNDS, the inevitable whipping of the hands takes the glean off ever so much.

BUT even the burning sensation couldn't take away from the shrill glee of playing around in this beta playground last night. You heard me. SHRILL GLEE.

http://www.openaustralia.org/

The perilous adventures of Charlotte the Optus Wench - Part II

I'm going to keep this short and simple, for your sanity, mine and the overall health of this far too portable laptop.

Found out Friday (my mind full of heady expectation at the prospect of a phone that not only stays on for tracts of time but ALSO receives AND sends phone calls and messages in that pesky real-time thing) that the f***king device isn't coming till AT LEAST next Friday.

The reason(s) behind this I discover from Cindy (the one good about this saga is Optus' seeming ease in producing service assistants with wonderfully giggly names), who manages to inform me in a wonderfully demeaning and condascending way that i'm an idiot for assuming anyone I speak to to has any real idea whats going on. Better yet, the sooner I let go of this false ideology that people are employed for a reason, the better i'll feel about stupid things like being able to connect with the world. After reminding myself quietly that breathing IS an essential survival thing, I am semi-resolved to the fact that this is out of my control. Semi. Till next Friday at least.

Bigger than jesus

I hate Optus.

This is well known, nothing new there, but today I do believe we reached a new low in our ongoing stand-off.

I'll admit, I am in the habit of using and abusing phones. I'm also not all that hot at holding on to them, its just one of the litany of unimportant practical skills that I have other people to remind me of. Much like road crossing but lets not start that one tonight.

In any case, after a long and involved saga involving insurance, i-phones and stupendously long and ill-informed waits I was happily informed by the Optus insurance phone wench yesterday that I would get a new phone TODAY. Which my disbelieving ears queried, but hey, one can only live in hope. Roll on Optus in-store wench number two, Charlotte.

My polite phone call to inquire when might be an appropriate time to collect the new shininess today was greeted by the lovely Charlotte who point blank informed me she didn't have really much idea what I was talking about AND not withstanding this, even if she did, she's not particularly interested in helping me. That's "insurance's problem". Noting the ten second upgrade from customer to problem I promptly hung up on Charlotte and placed a slightly more terse call to insurance where I managed one better, Grant informed they were "washing their hands of the issue altogether. Thats the store's problem now". Lovely.

A couple more calls back to the store, another to insurance and yet another couple to customer service ensured I wasted a good deal of my afternoon. I've still got no idea where my phone, neither does anybody, and no idea of when it mught arrive. Apparently I must be a slave to the door of George Street Optus up until the point the Optus gods see fit to bequeath a phone on this poor, unfortunate 'problem'.

In the interim, my phone's playing fun, amusing games and its got a penchance for giving me tmissed calls and messages three days after the fact. So if you're trying to contact me i'm not ignoring you. Promise.

End Rant.

Tempest

There's nothing like a belting wind, some lo-fi music and a balcony.

Pretty colours would have been awesome but the slovenly darkness is blissful too.

Confluence

So, i'm more than a little confused as to the harmony of having Leonard Cohen's "Everybody Knows" as the backing track for the new anti-smoking campaign. Its just odd people.

Meanwhile, I love the fact we managed to retain our new police minister for all of three minutes before he was caught with his pants down. Literally. Ahh the beauty factionalism *smirk*. Nevertheless I should naught complain, Noreeen Hay, Michael Costa, Morris Iemma and Reba Meagher all in the space of a week or so ain't bad. Even if we STILL have to deal with Della Bosca and Tripodi. I love how NSW politics closely resembles the set of The Bold and the Beautiful.

For all thats been written about the moose shooter, she ain't got nothing on these kids.

Coverage

In all honesty, i'm actually trying hard to cultivate a sleep pattern at the moment. Which was why today, there was complete avoidance of nana-napping or anything that resembled anything less than total verticality of body.

Given last night's rather late and tad intoxicated forays, this was quite the effort. The reward I justified, would be the dead tiredness and desire to marry my pillow that I would be feeling, oh, right about now. Which is of course, why i'm attending dutifully to this blog right now. Growl.

Went to Ben's warming of house last night, which contributed in part to the sleeplessness and slightly off centre sense of reality. Its a mad cute little joint and more importantly I want to marry his pizza man, or at least have him (or her) deliver to whatever part of the world I so happen to be in. Had some good giggles there and forgot how long its been since i've seen certain people all in a room together at once. Whilst the categorisation of friends and memories, times and places is not strange, the evocation of feelings as a result is always an odd phenomenon.

From Ben's we headed to a party for one of Kaitlyn's Alex's (henceforth to be known as Kalex - cause I like it) friends. Lots of bad dancing, lots of weird men in phat pants, lots of red wine sans glasses. And, for the second time in not so many weeks, an overabundance of cops. First time (at the actual party) granted, was probably somewhat justified, it was 3am and there was a lot of noise and more importantly a lot of randoms and smashing of glass. The second time however (at Xander's place) was a little more puzzling, exactly how four people, a PS3, tea, bad 80's glam rock and some really, really tight pants constitute a noise complaint is a little outside my realm of understanding. Nevertheless an interesting night, with kudos to Xander's couch, his eagerness to supply tea and the weird berry jam you can only get from Ikea. :)

So, now, as a result, sleep beckons. Or at least it should. In the meantime i'm jotting aimlessly and letting my consciousness stream wildly with ideas for the little challenge film that could. The one that could, probably should and yet is still highly doubtful. One thing of many to work on this week. Excellent.

So...

I haven't posted in a while.

Life feels like the shutter speed mechanism in an old camera at the mo', principally and aesthectically cool but in reality mechanical down to the last whir.

I'm SO over Sydney. I want to escape. Somewhere. Anywhere.

In the meantime, certain people are keeping life that little bit less predictable atm. Chas may not reign, but i'm glad to see its still competiting for attention. :)

Its black outside...

the temperature is freezing, but i'm crushing. Just a sneaky little bit. And it feels all warm and toasty inside.

For the mo'

Soundtrack: Deloused in the Comatorium - The Mars Volta (are god...)

Song: "Delay" - Kate Miller Heidke

Novel: "On the Road" - Jack Kerouac interspersed with "House of Spirits" - Isabel Allende

Quote: "Theres no devil just god when he's drunk" - (The legendary) Tom Waits

Obsession: Traipsing between the learning of the French language and the good old guitar again

Loving: A sharp, soothing red, soup, curling up with a book

Hating: Boot camp, the winter chill (mainly the thought of both of them together)

Perfection

Starting boot camp tomorrow. Leaving the house at 5am. AND there is a thrilling fitness test to look forward to. AND, looking at the weather there is a high potential it will either rain or simply be f&*#ing freezing. I'm either addicted to cold, the pain or addiction itself. Or more than mildly insane. Probably a question best left unanswered...

In more absurdly mundane news, in the last couple of weeks have stared a new sleep routine. Working on the theory that if REM sleep kicks in at 1 1/2 hours, then sleep in batches of such amount will be somewhat sufficient for functionality. Has been working tremendously of so far, even if I might only be managing a couple of batches a night, oops. Wasn't the original point, but hey, you win some you lose some. :)

Went out on the weekend with KT, Kaitlyn and Lara, hit up Bada Bing at the Flinders, rollicked drunkenly down Oxford Street and finally ended up at Stonewall until the ugly lights put an all too soon dampener on proceedings. Twas a very good evening. Sunday however, I was brutally reminded of the fact that getting ollder = slower reaction time and more pain. Or else scat Sundays need an extra 12 hours or so...

Got a chance to get reacquainted with the Dylan and the Eels though so in the end, all tasty weekend goodness.

Oh she's got a dark side too,
even murderous
but I love her like that
just like her.

Antics...

There was a definite lack of flinging and most certainly no flonging but we did manage to make a fairly decent showing of ourselves (involving some very nice post midnight Otis Redding danceathons, :)).

Cheers to Jimmy for so graciously supplying his house to compensate for our disasterously poor group organisational skills (damn creative types)...

In any case it all got a bit blurry a bit quickly, although i'm told there is a mass of photographic evidence due to the gathering of the aforementioned types of individuals (damn creative types!).

I await with trepidation...

Trucks, trees and the big top

So for the wrap-up of the weekend sports...

Loved:

• Y & R, British India, VHS or Beta


• James as a pageboy


• Photos of Jimmy and Kaitlyn's Oz Aerobics sessions on Kenso steps

Could have done without:

• Faker (and smoke bombing idiots during Faker)


• Cityrail suspending North Shore services for the weekend


• The Landsdowne AND Bar Clare being closed at 12:20pm on a Saturday night (after all we do live in a society here people)


• My lungs constantly reminding me that yes, I am too old to be any kind of smoking athlete any more...
• Anything involving spinning

Surprise Package:

• Former Child Stars, Children Collide


• Lara in a dress (looking adorable I might add ;))

Wish you were better:

• I heart hiroshima (but I still love you Susie, :D)

Nostalgia:

• The Living End


• Stuffed toys (don't say a word...)

Injuries:

• Pretty thin on the ground 'cept KT's pretty, purpley left foot and that minor incident with a tree...

All in all a stellar weekend. So cheers, sante, salut, kanpai, gombeii, chin chin, proust and the rest to Queenie in lieu of her upcoming October birthday... not that i'm complaining, :P.

And so it begins...

again.