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)