Blog, It's what's for dinner

banging and slanging

2008-04-21T17:08:00.003+12:00

I'm one of those people who is too white and too geeky to be able to use much slang without it coming off as a joke. I've always acted like it was no big deal and slang is stupid but secretly I've always been really jealous.
British people saying, "hurrah" like its not completely hilarious and black people saying, "he was all up in my business" in a way that does not imply entrepreneurship. Because of this little slang thing I think I pay more attention to it than most, I dont use the phrases, but I file them away in my mind under D for "Damnit"

Auckland tends to have it's own little dialect of slang, which either slowly filters its way down the country or, more often, stays within the city and dies within a few months. Actually the south island has some great slang too, (I had never heard the words saveloy, Whare-whare, or slapper until I moved down south)
Past slangs of Auckland that have lived out their time and now live in the slang graveyard waiting to be resurrected when they are appropriately kitchy include;
Blues - meaning 'thats cruel'
Dry - an unfunny joke
Ruthless - used similar to extreme, or 'mean' which is more commonly used
OTL - 'Only The Lonely' a label put on someone who is a loner
FOB - 'Fresh Off the Boat' someone who isn't hip to slick city ways. Naive.

Slang that Aucklanders commonly use but which hasn't filtered it's way down yet include:
Buzzy - the new 'random' (remember when people actually wouldn't stop saying that?) means that something is weird or odd. I think I've heard this in wellington a bit, but not in the south island yet.
Scene - It's more of a social group, and it totally started in the states, I know, but people are starting to differentiate the scenesters from the emos which is sort of new.
Lol - I can't actually verify if this is common, but I have heard some teenagers saying lol conversationally. Yes I know how stupid that is.
I will update this list once I remember/come across some more, but buzzy is a big one, it's been going strong for a few years here and to my knowledge isn't very common elsewhere around the country.
In conclusion, I wish I could say slang without it sounding really condescending and sarcastic. I know everything I say sort of sounds sarcastic and thats sort of my thing, but dang it, I just want to share the slang.

whoa

2008-04-19T19:11:00.002+12:00

so imagine getiing fucked by Jan Nortje? the 6'11 mixed martial artist dude? You would actually get turned inside out and smooshed. His rub jet would be ginormous.
eww rub jet. yucky.
is it hippyish if I really like the peace symbol?
I am watching that matt and mark show and it is actually getting a few laughs from me. not many, but a couple.
his sushi was rolled too hard. Mmm but man I want some sushi right now.
they're eating wasabi - I am good at those dares. I think maybe just because I just like doing dares. I wish fingernails grew faster. That would be sweet.
Chomp

kitteh in my photoshoot

2008-04-12T11:41:00.000+12:00

Salvia

2008-04-12T11:35:00.003+12:00

I smoked salvia yesterday. I held the smoke in my lungs until my throat went tight - I exhaled and waited.
Nothing's happening, I thought as a hard feeling swelled up and into the room like a tide. My arms felt it last and strongest and I laughed as I realised what it felt like; I felt like I was made of wood - no, the whole room was made of wood. I concentrated on my arms again and the feeling became more specific, they were the bow of a ship. I was part of a pirate ship. Then just as quickly as the tide had risen up it fell away again and everything went back to normal.
Very odd, very silly, very interesting.

writers on the storm

2008-04-09T12:44:00.003+12:00

I made a bong and theres only one thing wrong with it; It's the worlds most marvelous bong.
I'm now twenty years old and it sounds so official, like now I've suddenly hit something and I knew I was going to hit it, but was still surprised after I did. I think one thing will be handy, people will no be embarrassed to be talking to me and suddenly realize that I'm _only_ 18 or 19, after asking me if I can recommend a good daycare, or hitting on me. I am in the club, the adult club. No longer am I _only_ my age, I _am_ twenty.
Try saying it, "she's only twenty" - doesn't sound right, does it?

Imagine if the drinking age went up to 21?
"You can't buy this booze, you're only twenty!"

Weird, eh?
So yeah, it's my birthday and I have crafted the worlds most marvelous bong. The radio is playing and the cat is nom nom nomming in the corner.
My sister just texts me and I automatically read it in my head in an asian accent. I like giving people weird accents in my head. Does anyone else ever do that?

I started off noticing that I read texts in my head in a robotic accent, as if my phone was reading it out to me in a robot voice - it just sort of progressed to me imagining people reading the text to me in different accents.

So I guess I havent

2008-03-17T21:59:00.002+13:00

Posted in a while. Sorries all 'round to my two loyal readers. I live in Auckland now, it's so tropical up here, all hot and humid and the plants are different, you actually remember that NZ is a pacific island up here (resisting temptation to mention all the pacific islanders). You really feel the inner city pressure up here, I don't know if it's all the waking up at 7am, not having a job or any money, or if it's just something about razzle dazzle Auckland being a big mean city, but it's fully stress central up here. I can understand why no-one likes Aucklanders, they're mean. I am used to south island laid back hospitality and lower north white middle-class arty people (wellington dresses much better than Auckland, I recall noting that on a high school field trip, but now can verify that it is true).
Anyway, I have to wake up at seven and hustle my bustle in the big city. Makes me appreciate small towns, they are the shit. Or maybe Auckland just sucks... Hmm people have been telling me something similar about auckland for years..

pay up

2007-12-10T12:03:00.000+13:00

dear people who owe me money,
pay up dudes.

sincerely,
Sarah D.

With an alias like Sarah Dollars, you'd think I'd be figuratively rolling in it (I also like to think this), however that is not the case. Give me what you owe and perhaps I will spare you or at least kill you quickly and with a minimum of pain.

I'm beat

2007-12-09T17:28:00.000+13:00

Okay, so I have finished moving in with my boyfriend. My rabbit, my plant, my underwear ; it's all here and I'm just sitting here on his laptop taking it all in.
It's a nice place, really, but his (our) flatmates are pretty weird.

Theres this one who is never around - in fact he may not even exist, all I ever hear of him is 40 minute long jerk-off showers and the sound of him creeping up the stairway in the dark. He comes home at about 11pm and jerks off in the shower, then he goes to bed and leaves in the morning before anyone is awake.
Once I came out of the bathroom just as he was about to knock on the door - he turned around and darted back into his room, all I saw of him was a swish of lankiness, not even a good look at him ; he should hope he never needs an alibi. I certainly couldnt verify his whereabouts.

Then theres the one who catches bumble bees in a jar and was very excited about my bunny moving in. He's 27 or so, probably the most normal of the bunch.

Finally theres Baba yaga the babushka. I can't even explain the many nuances of her strangeness, she keeps her soap in a glad-bag in the shower and her disposable razor always has its little cap on. Her hobbies include baking breads of the world (badly) and being a tosspot.
Her room is a disaster zone and as far as I can see she doesn't keep a very tidy house, but she insists the lid of the communal flour be pressed down at all four corners to ensure a proper seal and keeping the(toilet trained)rabbit in the living room is unacceptable - as is throwing away the plastic salt shaker when it's empty (not flushing her gross floaters is okay).
She also looks and dresses like a witch, so yeah, she's a little odd.

roughhousing

2007-11-24T13:09:00.001+13:00

so, you know when you're wresting around with someone, having a bit of a play fight do you follow any sort of rules?

In my opinion there is an age old charter of unwritten, unspoken rules which must be followed to make the play fight enjoyable. Am I wrong in believing this?
You dont fight dirty, basically.
Here are the rules as I see them, finally laid down for all to see:

* No eye gouging
* take your glasses off before you fight, if they get broke, it's YOUR OWN FAULT
* no biting unless you're really backed into a corner
* no boys punching girls - hitting is allowed - but full-on punching isn't
* hair pulling is allowed; but should be doled out occasionally - a whole fight spent grasping a hank of someones hair isn't right
* kicking must be done shoeless
* no spitting
* no crazy death-holds, thats some dangerous shit.
* no actual weapons (ie: no knives, but TV remotes are okay)
* if someone taps out or otherwise signals that the fight should end that must be respected, but they are deemed the loser despite having gotten in a few good headlocks.
* leave a dude's balls alone

Now, when I'm fighting with my boyfriend - and this may be because he's from the backwoods of Christchurch - he tends to obey the rules at first, but then quickly resorts to dirty tactics. It's just not on, you've got to obey the ancient rules of wresting with your girlfriend. However, if I so much as cause him any discomfort he gets extremely irritated and complains loudly, "ow wahh, I'm a big baby, you hurt me"
Follow the rules people. Wrestling is fun, but a poked eye really fucking hurts.

I dont know if you got a man

2007-11-19T14:05:00.000+13:00

Well I joined Facebook a few weeks ago, its pretty alright, found a bunch of old highschool cronies. When I was filling out my profile, just for kicks, I wrote that I was Islamic and fucking into the Q'ran and my favourite quote is Allah is great or some shit. Basically I was wanting to fill up my friends with random hardcore muslims, maybe infiltrate some terrorism business goin' down or whatever.
It's working pretty well so far, I've had a few people from Iran add me as a friend and just now some guy names Hishan send me a message saying he's from Oman and he's training to be a pilot, there's all these photos on his page of planes just flying around on Al Qaeda missions no doubt. I sent him a message in arabic (using one of those internet translators). This is fucking awesome, Terrorism is the new black, fucking stylish shit.
My clique is rolling with IEDs and fundamentalist beliefs. Allah is so hot right now.
I am going to be busting out in a burka and it will make you all so jealous of how edgy and happening I am.

b.o

2007-11-17T15:16:00.000+13:00

I'm laying out in the sun and the heat has warmed up my clothes so I can smell all the b.o I'm basking in. It's pretty hot. Not the weather, although that's hot too, I meant hot as in my stinky b.o is sexually attractive.

I've been trying to give notice to my landlords and they're dicking me around about it, telling me I signed a fixed lease and I can't stop paying until next year, but fuck them basically, fuck their stretched out, fisted up assholes with a crowbar. I called my Maw for advice and sympathy, as I am wont to do and she set me straight with some sensible advice - just move out and they won't know where I am to make me pay.
Suckers, bastards. I am going to fuck the hell out of here and not give them another cent. I am so pissed off though, who tries to con a bunch of broke students? Students who perhaps have a passion for vandalizing property. Oh how cool would it be to just trash their fucking flat and then disappear?

That happened to my mother, she was renting out our house in Kaitaia while we were living in Auckland. The tenant was growing all this pot all over the place so she told them to get out, they stole all the furniture and locked a dog up in the place and the dog shat everywhere and tore everything up.

I think my neck is sunburt. Smoking cigarettes when it's hot out is really yuck, they are a cold weather food. Warm the cockles of your heart, they do.

I'm so stressed about this flat thing though, last night I went to a play and you had to walk up this faggy red carpet to get in. There were all these actors lining the carpet taking photos and asking for autographs and basically pretending you were famous and I totally freaked out and I couldnt go in, I was standing outside all stricken and almost wanted to just go back home but I didn't want to be a big dud, so I went in and michael was there and I started crying like a big loser, but I only cried like five tears worth, so it wasnt that big of a deal. Like I said, I'm stressed out and those fucking people shouting at me as I tried to walk through the door minding my own business set me over the edge.

In conclusion, flatting is a smegma'd up cuntrag.

muscles mc molar

2007-11-12T18:55:00.000+13:00

some cigarette ash fell in my crotch while I was cutting my toenails. Ouch.
Did you know: according to scholars, 1461 was the least X-treme year in recorded history.

research

2007-10-27T15:31:00.000+13:00

I quickly searched things and discovered the following. Hitler died on 30 april 1945
and nixon first got elected into the house of representatives in 1946, no one even knew about him until then.
I also found this damming evidence:

I think it pretty much speaks for itself.

moist

2007-10-27T15:17:00.000+13:00

Hey chair moisteners,
well now I am back in the realm of the living after being on an 8 day, drug fuelled bender. I feel sort of sick in the pit of my stomach and I know that the feeling will go away if I did another cone, but there isn't any more cones to do. (thankfully)
I drew pictures, watched movies, wrote, and slept. My brain was turning into mush and it felt wonderful.
Your toes feel like the just right porridge goldilocks ate.
Three bears porridge
dexterous toes.
Words like piping, spirograph, thrice, glowering and magma became wonderous to hear and say.
I even created a conspiracy theory (hitler didnt die - he moved to the states and got plastic surgery and became richard nixon (just draw the moustache on nixon, you'll see).
The rabbits were fighting just before and one of them made a high pitched squealing noise.
Going on a bender is one of those things you just have to have done once, so you can slip it into the autobiography and make yourself sound hardcore.
I have battling rabbits and pages of insane, rambling notes. If that isn't hardcore I can't help you.

I'm the law here

2007-10-16T22:35:00.000+13:00

turn around or I'll confiscate your vehicle

blank it, blanket

2007-10-15T17:19:00.000+13:00

On Sunday afternoon I ticked off one of my 'things to do before I die'.

For a long time (since early 2005) I had this wish, this wonderful dream to create a womb of blankets. A uterus like fort to sit under and smoke weed. While in the hot-boxed uterus I would feel calm, at one with the circle of life. It would be great.
Many a weekend in 2005 and six had been spent texting, driving, begging and cajoling people trying to either find marijuana, or to find people willing to join me in hotboxing a blanket fort. For various reasons, it never worked out and I began to feel disheartened, as if my dream was ill fated to never be fulfilled. In fact, until yesterday the very idea of creating a womb of blankets to get stoned under had nearly been forgotten, squished away in the back of my mind where I keep the final glimmer of hope for all of my doomed ideas.
Then, yesterday, as if by some fey, serendipitous chance I found myself sharing a Red Bull can-cum-pipe around a group of friends as we sat on a mattress outside, each of us wrapped in a blanket.
Joy of Joys! Finally!
Steeled for disappointment, I suggested the idea to my comrades, noting the good fortune that we already had at our fingertips all the required ingredients for constructing and enjoying the fort, the plan was agreed upon and set into action.
As I huddled under blankets, shoulder to shoulder with three of my most agreeable friends, nothing but a lighter and smoldering cannabis to see by, I saw my dream realized in all it's glory. The most extreme sense of pleasure and accomplishment swelled from within me and I basked under the blankets, warm recycled air and pungent smoke reassuring me that this was not a dream, finally, it was a reality.

Interesting

2007-10-12T19:22:00.000+13:00

Hey guys, back in prudey Victorian times when women got all emotional and thus were diagnosed with HYSTERICS a doctor, to cure her, would stimulate her clitorally, until orgasm (called “hysterical paroxysm”). It got tiring fingerbanging ladies all the time (and using a jet of water was messy), so in the 1880's a British doctor invented the first vibrator so that they could get through the ladies quicker. It wasn't even seen as sexual though and it was needed weekly to stave off the dreaded hysterics. THEN in 1902 home vibrators were invented - only the fifth 'home appliance' to be invented, after the sewing machine and before the electric iron.
By 1917 there were more vibrators than toasters in American homes. By the 1920's there was vibrator porno and the jig was up about the secret sexual nature of the vibrator.

The other interesting thing I have to talk about is Amoebas (Amoebae?). Go read this They group up together to turn into a slug!

Loathing in Wellington

2007-10-11T15:42:00.000+13:00

You know that guy I said I hated?
Well now I am putting him on my hit list. He, along with Tom Arnold are so going to get killed by me.
Killed until they die from it.

Raped with a chainsaw

2007-10-08T23:21:00.000+13:00

Oh and I dreamed last night that I crawled into my own ear. It was so detailed I could feel the wax and the hairs and stuff. It was sooo odd.
You know that cliched feeling when you are looking at old photos of yourself and it dawns on you, this horrible realization; "I've gotten chubby". Ew I'm so lazy and I love food, so it was due sooner or later, but in the space of like, 12 months I've gained probably more than my share of weight. I sort of knew it when some of my clothes didn't fit right, but it really hits you when you see the pictures. It's shocking. It's... it's... dumb! Ew and excercise and healthy eating is so boring! It's such a drag, but I couldn't stay on this gravy boat of good times and sloth forever.
Maybe it's good that I'm blogging it because then its like official and I'll actually do something about it rather than just secretly feeling bad but still eating takeaways four days a week. THAT'S RIGHT FOUR DAYS A WEEK. I'M AN ANIMAL.

What the hell guys????

big cocks

2007-10-08T23:03:00.001+13:00

I got a rabbit. Today I spent, like way too much money on toys and trays and chewy things for Ralph and then got a bunch of wood for making a hutch, which the group did together, like true communists. It's actually pretty profesh looking, surprisingly, but it's huge, like, really huge. The rabbits like it though, thats where they run away to when you try to pick them up off the living room floor to pet. I will post a photo when I have a good one, oh wait theres one right here
One of my nostrils is blocked and the other one isnt. so I can still breathe, but it feels hot and annoying. I don't like it at all you guys.

I know that it's such a '19' thing to be all confused about my future and unsure and shit like that, but I'm so sick of it, I almost just want to fast forward 20 years of my life so that I'm settled and have a job and a direction. Or fast forward 50 years and I can just retire and be old and cranky like I love to do.
I am going to like being old, I can't wait.
I'm probably moving to auckland next year, so that'll be weird. Being there again. In auckland again after 5 years away. Again. Auckland.

sucessful sister

2007-10-02T14:28:00.000+13:00

I like how african americans call eachother brother and sister. It's nice.
I guess maybe it's mean or something to find other people's cultures quaint, but fuck that, they probably think I'm some smooth haired honkey.

Publicity

2007-09-25T22:18:00.000+12:00

I am tired and at school right now wearing shoes that are too big for me, but they were sooo cheap and they're sort of nice.
When I'm in a shitty, grumbly mood, I like to buy things, even if they're dumb things I neither want nor need.
I am anaemic and it's sort of weird because before I knew I had it, I was only feeling one or two of the 'symptoms' of anaemia, but now that I know for sure I do, it's like my brain is getting all psychosomatic on me and I have turned into a textbook case, a classic example of anaemia.
I got suspicious I had it because I dont eat meat, or very healthily and I am dog tired all the dang time.
now that I know, I have become all bruised up, breathing heavily, pale, poor memory and concentration. Nice one, brain. Thanks.
Ugh, I still dont know what I want to do with myself, but I sort of calmed down a bit and decided I needa take it easy, I'm not turbo-lady and I'm sick so maybe just cruising along doing what I'm doing is just fine. Actually my mum had to tell me that.
Shut up, my mum says I'm cool.

You know that feeling when you realise that the reason you are so aggravated with someone is because you hate them? You actually hate them with every fibre of your being and their death would fill you with an overwhelming and incomparable joy? You know that feeling? I had that beautiful epiphany today about someone who has been getting on my nerves SO BAD. Everything he does, even the way he breathes bothers me on a level that burns down into my tissue. He is so painfully stupid, lazy and annoying that I am astounded that he has lived as long as he has. He can barely take care of himself, barely talk - his brain is fully loaded with the basic functions of moving his bowels and reminding him to blink.
I fantasize about the satisfying crack of smashing a frying pan over his head, then when he's down, stomping on him over and over again.
I hate this person and it's almost a relief to have realised that, but it also really sucks because I have to be around his idiotic, pathetic face so often.
In some ways, hate is a lot more satisfying than love and surely in most cases it lasts longer. Love is confusing and weird, but hate is simple and base and feels powerful, whereas love, although great in it's own way, I'm not knocking love, love makes you feel sort of weak or something.

fuck

2007-09-21T12:44:00.000+12:00

We're up to 1123 viruses.
Shit, how has my computer not blown up yet?

I am Job

2007-09-21T12:34:00.000+12:00

So I finally got around to getting some antivirus software, it's called AVG free edition and it's free and pretty good. I'm scanning my computer right now and it's already found FIVE viruses ... virii? One of them is called "ohnoes!" hah.
So I'm horribly down in the dumps and it's really hit me all of a sudden instead of creeping up slowly like it usually does and I fully need to make some changes in my life which is a big dumb cliche, but it's also true.
I guess I ought to get off my ass first of all and start doing the things I love doing all the time, drawing, photography, writing. Then I guess I ought to get a job.
The thing with jobs is all the work experience I have is for jobs I would rather kill myself than ever do again. Theres a sign on the door of the local porn-arium saying they need a part time worker, I could sit around, selling sexual junk which I think I would totally enjoy, but also it might put off the customers, buying pornos from a 19 year old chick, putting their buttplugs in a brown paper bag, all like "enjoy!"
This is going to sound really naieve, but I don't even think I know how to write a cv, and I dont know any of the information about my past employers to write down, like references and stuff. Then the idea of going around to places giving them my pathetic little piece of paper and them being all like "no" is pretty soul crushing.
Yes, I do know it's something everyone has to do, but fuck, why can't prosperity just fall in my lap?

2007-09-20T18:56:00.000+12:00

I went to Hanmer Springs a few weeks ago. It was pretty nice, all fresh air and sunshiney days.
I have a project for class where I have to make a 'hybrid object' between a plug and a match. Any ideas, guys?
I keep thinking of a horrible perverse bottle rocket type thing combining a butt plug with matches fizzling out the end. That is a stupid idea, I know, but it just demonstrates my lack of ideas.

I'm all figity and frustrated with my life at the moment. I have no idea what I want or how to go about figuring out what I want. Slowly it's dawning on me that the only reason I'm still at school is to put off the inevitability of becoming an adult. A member of society, paying taxes and complaining about their boss. Driving a car, even.
Every job I think might be alright to do, I don't have any sort of experience at and the thought of getting a job is terrifying. The idea of putting effort into something is tiring just to think about. Every job I have ever had has been depressing and exhausting. Feeling like an angsty teenager all the time is getting old, too.
Bah, it's like I'm a grumpy, tired, mean old lady trapped in a youngin's body.

Bogus

2007-09-17T13:19:00.000+12:00

My Computer has a virus.
I guess it's been a long time running, I have no anti-virus software, my firewall is completely turned off and I am constantly downloading items of questionable legality.
I'm an internet cowboy and the law has finally caught up with me.
In the past week I've been downloading various keg gens for a game I wanted to unlock the full version without paying for it.

Maybe I got what I deserve, but everything is running painfully slowly. Microsoft word says it is corrupted and needs to be re-installed (this means I can't work on or even peruse the great novel I am working on) and, perhaps most annoyingly my pop up blocker seems to have been blown up or something because I keep getting pop ups trying to sell me porn, read my fortune, online poker, online dating, online university degrees and offers of green cards.
Apparently I am the 999,999th visitor. I have won a prize.

Last night I dreamed about a dystopic future. It was so cool that I didn't want to wake up and in fact I didn't until about 11, highway overpasses and bridges had offices built into their underbellies, depressing little windows looked down onto the concrete and traffic, but space was limited in the city, so every place had to be taken advantage of. I think humans were living on Mars, too because I remember sitting in a black sphere with a few strangers, my legs getting pins and needles in the cramped area while space whizzed past us. When we landed there was a very rudimentary, but strict security check. People were, seemingly randomly, assigned odd groupings and then sent to the part of the country which that particular grouping had been allotted. A guy who looked like Ewan McGregor told me I was a Dinosaur, stamped my passport and put me on a bus to this crappy encampment full of people who looked like lepers. Their skin was all melted looking and had formed into little flaps all over their torsos. I was horrified.

It was like a more extreme version of this. Funnily enough, I have removed these from people for them. It's sort of fun, playing doctor.

This is abnormal, irregular

2007-09-12T16:00:00.000+12:00

I just watched The Science of Sleep. It was not as good as I had been led to believe, in fact I found it sort of annoying to watch and got bored and started watching youtube videos of Letterman clips. I think it's the love story part - I dont like love story movies.
I would like to have a one second time machine, though.
The movie got me thinking, all the times Stephane confuses his dreams for reality and visa vera. As a side effect of my medication I have very vivid dreams. Thats pretty cool most of the time because I can remember them the next day and write them down. Sometimes though, it makes things seem ultra realistic, so much so that when I wake up and go about my daily business I feel this incredible sense of deja vu - it's as though in my dream I already did all this, lived my whole day but can't quite remember upon waking. Everything has a little itch of familiarity, when I pour my coffee it doesnt feel like I did this yesterday morning, but it feels like I just did it ten minutes ago in my dream.
Sometimes I dream about everyday scenarios and it's very realistic, except there will be a few things awry. I will be sitting in my living room on the green couch with my flatmates and a centipede will come scuttling across the carpet.
Remeber the scene in 'A Scanner Darkly' where the junkie is driving his car and daydreams/halucinates that a police car pulls him over then shoots his head right off. Then he snaps out of it and sees a police car driving right past him.
In the same way, when I have dreams like this I take them as premonitions, which seems like egoism. When I sit on my couch I keep my eye out for the centipede. I half expect it to come slithering from beneath the cushions.
Sometimes I think about things that happened last week and I wonder, did that happen, or did I dream that? Not big things, like where I was or what I was doing. Little things like burning my toast or having a song stuck in my head.
A delusion like this, not being sure of my own reality. This seems like a sure sign of mental illness, but when it's only little things like the sensation of laying on my bed without sheets, or taking a drink of water thinking it's cold, when actually it's hot. Is that even so bad? Maybe it happens to everyone to a lesser extent and it gets ignored. I sort of like the feeling when I stand in my room during the few seconds while the light flickers before turning on and feel a dreamlike sense of,
"haven't I done this recently?"

why isnt there...

2007-09-10T21:34:00.000+12:00

a nostalgia channel, showing all the tv shows I grew up watching? Harry and the hendersons, alf, the care bears, family matters, captain planet, american gladiators...
That would rock so hard.
I have had the wackiest, foodiest evening. Let me tell you about it;

Okay so at 5, I got home from school and was all hungry, but I dont have any food after being away on holiday for the weekend and I figured I'd just order some indian. I dialed up to www.imhungry.co.nz and clicked on a place called 'Curry in a Hurry', sounded promising. I ordered some yummy stuff and gave them my phone number and email adress to inform me if anything needed confirming. They emailed me saying everying was copasetic and the order was 45 mins away.
I am able to hallucinate smells, so as I was looking at all the menus, I was smelling all this good food and getting hungrier. Torture!
An hour and a half later, I wrote an email asking if they were having trouble finding the place. I didnt hear back.
I wrote another email asking if everything was alright with my order and when I could expect it.
I finally heard back they said they were trying to ring me, they needed my credit card details.
My phone didnt ring, so I emailed back. Giving them my number again and expressing that I would pay in cash, as I had said on the order form. I asked them to hurry because by now I had been waiting for my order two hours and I was hungry and frustrated.
Finally they emailed me again saying that I ought to call them (I suspect because they didn't want to call my mobile and get charged.) and give my credit card details over the phone, afterwhich there would be 45 minutes until my order arrived.
By now I had been waiting two and a half hours and I emailed my boyfriend to vent about how angry and hungry I was. I lamented my poor grocery selection and wondered what I could eat.
After that I emailed the Curry in a Hurry people, yet again, but this time cancelling my order, I was pretty angry. Denying a simple country girl her supper is not a great way to get on my good side, so my email reflected this. I told them I was upset and would be telling my friends about their poor service.
After huffing for a few minutes I decided I was going to get my damn indian, come hell or high water - I ordered from another place and got my, slightly more expensive, but entirely more timely meal.

I rinsed off my plate and sat down as a knock came at the door.
It was Mikey Mike! 90s rapper gone boyfriend. He came in and handed me some bags, saying
"I don't want you going hungry!"
He gave me a kiss and it was off back to work.
In the bags were Indian food! Croissants! Chocolate pikeletes! Maple Syrup! Yum!
Yum! What a sweetie. I'm sure he hardly had any groceries for himself, but he took off work to come bring me some yummy eats. I gave him a big kiss, but he had to go back to work. I started saying "aw he's so sweet!" and I still haven't stopped!
What a sweetie, right? Listening to my angry emails and bringing me food.
I am a lucky, lucky lady. And I am going to be eating good stuff for days!

jacking off

2007-09-03T14:25:00.000+12:00

One thing that sort of bothers me about the world is that guys can make jokes and generally talk openly about jackin' it and people laugh and, if you're in the right company, you can talk about your wang all you want.
I'm no feminist, but it just seems unfair to me, not only do girls NEVER talk about masturbation, but they generally adamantly refuse to admit they do it. I KNOW YOU DO, STOP LYING YOU PRUDE.
When I try to make a joke about jackin' it (which I rarely do) I am met with shocked looks, even from my own slutty friends.
What is the deal?
Luckily I have found this hilarious blog

This chick, albeit with the anonymity of the internet, is hilariously open about her sex life (with herself or with a friend). Its really a great blog. Go read it. She masturbated so much she wore out her vibrator. Now that is dedication.

Girls surely have funny things to say about their ham wallets, why don't they talk about it?
I jacked off with a back massager a few weeks ago and it was GREAT.
That is all.

grumble

2007-08-27T22:11:00.001+12:00

So I was watching Oprah and she told me that you shouldn't eat after 7.30.
I used to be pretty good about not eating at night, but with my crazy drinking habits and late nights these days, I haven't been so good. Maybe I oughta go back to what Oprah says, she rarely steers me wrong.
I'm not smoking so much lately; this has led to a heightened interest in junkfood. Must... resist...

I used to eat beef and I always sort of wondered how many steaks on a cow?
Turns out it's not really that simple because as you can see above, theres all sorts of different cuts.
I do know the answers though, for othere people interested in the meat they dont eat to edify themselves with.

SLICES OF COW

6 Round steaks
8 Sirloin steaks
8 porterhouse steaks
8 T bone steaks
1 Rib Roast (or ten rib steaks)
5 Chuck steaks
2 Pot-roast steaks
2 Sirloin roasts
2 Rump roasts
1 Flank steak
2 English cuts
8 Shank cross cuts
95 Kilos Minced Beef
18 Kilos Stewing Beef
(what happens to the teeth and noses? - McDonalds patties)

As you see, I'm dedicated to doing the hard, thankless work of writing down things I find interesting for all to see.

assault for a slap

2007-08-22T20:44:00.000+12:00

The fake british girl is in our flat talking about how her friends are arguing. How can you talk so british when you've lived in new zealand since you were 12?
I've had three drinks and I feel, not tipsy, but fuzzy - which is a pre-tipsy state.
See, it goes fuzzy, tipsy, sleepy, guzzly, sway-y, drunk, smokey, surly, squinty, trashed, mothered, double vision, bed-bound.
I hate when I'm really drunk and I am trying to text (I am a NOTORIOUS drunk texter) and I have to close one eye so I can see what I'm doing because I am seeing double.
You' think when I got to the double vision state of inebriation, I'd think to myself,
"Hey, maybe I shouldn't text anyone right now?"
But I never do, I always wake up the next day with this terrible feeling I've done something awkward - I reach to my phone which is invariably near my head, look at the sent messages and it's something weird or mean or slutty. I don't know about me sometimes.

Next topic:
What is the deal with rape?
Like, it's a horrible thing, but theres something sexy about it at the same time.
I dont get it.
I would seriously like to know.
Wikipedia has a few things to say on the matter.
Wikipedia is pretty cool.
I would rape wikipedia if I could, but I think everyone else aready beat me to it, I dont want no sloppy seconds.

let me ask you something pal

2007-08-12T17:53:00.000+12:00

So Die Hard 4.0 way pretty okay. Some chick gets the beats layed on her!

I went to a party last night full of people I don't know, but they were friendly, drunk people and I was drinking, which made it nice and easy to be friendly back.

It was interesting and there were some laughs, when I drink with people my age we just talk about sex and swear, which is entertaining for maybe an hour, but then just gets sort of old. It was nice to rub shoulders with some adults and mingle amongst them, even if one of them was condemning nineteen year olds. SPECIFICALLY nineteen year olds, what are the odds?!
A joint got passed around and Michael and I went inside to pee, then sat down on some sweet looking lounge chairs. Michael turned to me and asked,
"Is it just me, or are those two girls dancing funny?"
"Well, sort of."
We spaced out for a minute or two watching the dosadoing, then, like the two crazy stoned kids in love we were, we started pangyrizing eachother. It was one of those cliche
"I love you!"
"I love you more!" moments, but it was so sweet too. At the time I remember thinking to myself, 'aw man this is too sweet, I need to remember all this lovely stuff we're saying to eachother', despite that, I don't really remember much besides me telling him he was the smartest person I knew and I liked the fact that he could teach smart alecky me a thing or two. He told me to get out of town because I was smarter than him by far. Blood shot, wide-eyed, we started at eachother, amused and incredulous that the other could think so much of them.
Eventually Michael turned to me, sounding worried and sort of like a little boy,

"Sarah, I don't remember where we are. I mean, I know we're in someone's living room, but I don't know what direction to go back home and it seems so far away. Do you know where we are?"

I told his I did and we decided to leave. He reminded me that I would have to lead him home because he was lost. We got our things and headed down the street,
After we'd been walking for about five minutes the cute lost little boy came out again,
"Are you going to lead me home, I'm following you."
"Of course I am, we're going to my house. Did you think I was just going to leave you on a streetcorner"
"Well I wasn't sure and I'm pretty wasted, I dont know if I could make it without you."

It was drunkeness and THC talking, but I found this exchange incredibly cute.
When we got to my house we both sat on my bed and I asked him whether he wanted to hang out more or go to bed or what and he looked at me saying very matter-of-factly,
'I think we both know we want to go to bed now'.
We passed out as soon as we hit the pillow.

there's no emoticon for what I'm feeling!

2007-08-06T17:08:00.000+12:00

The word icon came from the greek, 'eikon', which was a religious image.
That is your lesson of the day.
So I had a test today, I spend, all-up, about four hours studying for an hour long test, which isn't much I know, but still, time out of my life I'd rather've spend bumming around. I spent my time memorizing tribe names, craftsmen, and these three essential words which we had to link into our essay answers about three particular maori artifacts.
When I showed up to this so-called test I recieved a slice of paper, upon which was the exam question, further down the page however was the three maori words we had to link into our essay - along with definitions of the words!
I was irritated that I'd wasted my time and even more irritated that this test about these three essential words didn't even expect us to have learned the meanings of these words!
The first slide appeared on the projector - the picture of a food storage hut, or pataka triggered my memories of it's craftsman, tribe or origin and even that the maori word for 'food hut' was pataka. It needn't have because below the image all this information was written. I'm suprised the essay wasnt up on the projector and all we had to do was copy it down.
What a rediculous test, we weren't expected to remember anything! Why did I study when I got all the essential information given to me? What exactly was being tested?
I am pissed off, I am.

a big boring whine

2007-07-22T16:31:00.000+12:00

Hey sports racers,
well I got back from chch this morning and felt tired and cranky and ready to hang out in my room, having some alone time after being nearly constantly around people for 4 days - I stumble down to my room and find that the door is locked, no worries, the person staying there must've locked it when they left.
As I was fiddling with the key and the lock and dreaming of my smelly, cold little room and maybe a nap, the door was swung open; turns out the person staying there leaves tomorrow and I woke them up. Whoops.
Damnit though, being around people is tiring and I was all ready to flop onto bed, but no it wasn't to be. Ugh.
I made my apologiest for waking her up and flopped down onto the sofa instead, cracked open the laptop to see what was new on the email front. A letter from Anne, my ex-step-mother-thingy. I double-clicked it open and, much to my (further) aggravation it's a forward from some hardcore christian website talking about purity and abstinance. WTF lady, you're not my mother and just because you are feeling guilty about your adultery and sad about your divorce doesn't mean I need your well meaning advice about wearing a purity ring and all that shit.
Jesus hung out with prostitutes so I don't think he is all that fussy if I'm getting rutty with my boyfriend.
More whining, sure;
My flatmates have been drinking my milo.

My sheets have disappeared off my bed and I have a sinking feeling that they have been vomited on.

I am a week behind on school work but I know I am not going to put in a weeks work of catching up, this will make me feel vaguely guilty for the rest of semester. I always have felt a burden of responsibility being the only child to have made it past high-school education, but I also feel a burden of sloth and procrastination.

My flatmates are annoying, or maybe I am just eaily annoyed (definitely the latter);
after being with Michael for such lovely long amounts and getting to tangle up with him to sleep at night I feel sort of lonely, suddenly being back in reality, where I sleep alone in a king-single and tangle with no-one. This is somewhat scary because I have until recent always cherished being alone.

Okay I think I've vented enough. Ah, good ol' emo blogging.

Treasure

2007-07-14T19:00:00.000+12:00

Lately, I have become obsessed with amassing treasures. Gems, Jewels, Silver, and Gold. I want treasure.

When I was quite young, for my birthday I asked EVERYONE I knew to get me a treasure chest - I ended up getting about ten and I loved them all. I kept beads, pretty sequins and papers, interesting things I found, secrets and my jewellery in them. It felt good to have treasures and somewhere to stow them all.
My Mother gave me a chunk of turquoise which I would carry around with me - I was at the park one day and on the ground I saw a little silver bracelet. I felt bad taking it, so in it's place I left the turquoise, as a trade. I stashed the bracelet away in amongst my other treasures feeling very pleased with my fortune.

My Father gave me a beautiful old treasure chest and inside it was a huge collection of costume jewellery, some of it junk - glass gems and gold plate, broken chains tacky with decade old sellotape. Some of it TREASURE - 24 carat gold earrings, a tiny real pearl (you can tell by banging it against your teeth.), a broken piece of opal, handfuls of silver necklaces which I would coil into my hands and over my eyelids. Beautiful treasure.
Over the years my treasures have mostly been lost, broken or given away. I've moved around a lot and things disappear.
Last year my big, lovely treasure chest was stolen.

I have a jewellery box now, not a 'treasure chest', but I've been struck with the urge to fill it with treasures. I want chains I can coil in my eye lids, I want rings for all of my fingers, jewels and gems I can ball my fists around. I want my treasure back! I want a box brimming full of treasures, it's so bare at the moment.

So that's pretty much what I'm spending my money on at the moment, even though I know it's really silly and useless and selfish. I guess it's a pretty girly desire - the need to have jewels. I'm slowly building up my collection, I bought some costume rings the other day. I am only three away from one for every finger. I have my eye on an auction for an opal so I can have a whole one, rather than just a piece.
It's a fun goal to have and I am going to be very satisfied when my jewellery box is full of treasure. Hoards of lovely, glittering, sparking treasure.

Two Questions

2007-07-10T19:43:00.000+12:00

I have two questions that have been bugging me,

Firstly, how long does someone need to have been a speaker of english before they start thinking in english? Dreaming in english?

Secondly, people who have been deaf from birth, do they think in sign language? Do they ever dream sounds?

Answers would be much appreciated.

Beauty

2007-07-08T18:41:00.001+12:00

I, like most people, enjoy beauty.
I used to have this aesthetic where I would measure the beauty of something on how easy or hard a particular thing was to find beautiful. By my reckoning, beauty that is 'easy' to call beautiful(flowers, stars, renaissance oil paintings, etc...) was less beautiful than 'difficult' beautiful things (childrens artwork, wet dogs, rusty iron, blood...).
Now, I have a new aesthetic. I have listened to The Smashing Pumpkins' newest single, Tarantula. It's been seven years. Oh my.
The song is my new standard for beauty. No more will I dilly dally with petty discriminations over what is easy and what is hard, feeling pretentious and superior when I can find a dead bouquet just as lovely as a live one. Now the only thing I will ask myself when I come to consider if something is beautiful,
Did Billy do it?

If not, then I will languish in despair until next I can absorb more of his beautiful music which is so energized now that he has his band back.
Okay, I'm done gushing. Buy the album you guys it is going to blow your mind.

more than a PR man

2007-07-06T18:27:00.001+12:00

The news, generally speaking, is pretty shit. It's full of fluffy human interest stories, celebrity gossip and alarmist fear inducing war stories. Their unbiased, objective reporting is anything but - often they dont even try to hide opinionated views and subjective, one sided reporting.
I'm not just talking about the classic Rupert Murdoch bashing that anyone who's taken a media studies 101 paper does, feeling very clever about it too, I'm talking about all the news. In the past week I've had the opportunity to watch One news, Three news, CNN and BBC - I've heard about the spice girls re-union, David Beckham, Iraq has been jihaded beyond belief and the nasty dune coons are surely something to fear and despise. Kiwisaver has been hummed and hawed about and more mind numbing, ear splitting junk has been crammed into my brain. Yes, my terror level is high, ooh my fear makes me feel like consuming recklessly and with abandon - after all, I'm about to get terrorism-ed, aren't I?
I'm being a little over the top, I realize, but I'm pretty disgusted with the news much of the time.
However, one tiny glimmer of hope has given me reason to believe that the media is still somewhat worthwhile; this shennanigans about censorship - The ban on satirizing our politicians.
Our lovely democratic government has tried to ban it (which leads me to wonder how far they would've taken it. Who defines satire?), but our news channels are having none of it (except one news, but who cares anyway) Sky News, Maori, TV Three - have all decided they will disobey the no-satire order and continue what they do best; entertaining us slackjaws, every last one.
Mmm thats good current events.

wah wahn

2007-07-02T17:35:00.000+12:00

People with big ears.
I pity them, when you meet a big eared person, or freak, as they will be called in this blog entry, their crazy poky outy ears are all you notice. They make the freak's face look all wrong and they are limited in their choices of hairstyles.
It sucks, but what sucks more than having big ears is being a midget, or dwarf, little person, 'tard, I can't keep up with the nomenclature.
With midgets, you see them out of the corner of your eye, walking down the street and you dont know what to do, do I avoid eye contact, so they don't think I'm staring? Do I glance casually at them, but run the risk of not being able to tear my eyes away?
Either choice is going to end up seeming rude.
Do midget men have proportional genitals? Are they all midgety?
Why do they always walk like they've got a limp?
How come they have such big foreheads?
Where do they get their little pants?
I saw a nun today. This nun was also a midget; she was a midget nun, so it was a pretty unusual sight.
A tiny little mini nun, standing on tip toes to look at the bus schedule.
Is her piousness proportionate to her size?

Or what about those people who are all crazy looking because of agent orange?
All no legs and crab claw fingers and bulbous heads. Eyes all googly and shit.
That would suck to have crab claw fingers, unless you mostly just wanted to pinch things all day.

Basically, I'm glad I'm pretty normal looking and am not physically or mentally disabled because being a retard would be a drag.

I used to have a friend with spina bifida; she had one of those wheelchairs that was powered by a joystick which I thought was sort of cool.
She was a twin and her twin didn't have spina bifida - I always thought I would secretly hold it against the other twin for being the one who could walk, if I was her, she didn't though.
I would point my joystick towards her when she wasnt looking and ram into her. Then, when she was on the ground I would run over her spine, back and forth - over and over again until she was paralysed too, just like me.
Twins for life.

Decisions?

2007-06-30T15:29:00.000+12:00

Okay, so here is my dillema:
I have money for my tattoo - again. I have about $200 or whatever saved up nicely in a box and second time could be a charm? BUT Once again, now that I have the money I am consumed with doubt and maybe a little bit of fear. What if I flinch and the needle puts ink into the wrong place and ruins it? What if I get really fat and the tattoo just becomes a colourful smear, dotted with stretch marks? What if I change my mind about the design? What if the artist I go to is shit and I end up with some crappy prison scratch on my body?
Also, thinking about my art, which is another thing I love to spend money on when I have it, which is usually never; I have become interested (or re-interested, really) in doing prints, lino, woodblock, whatever just some fuckin' cooled up prints, carving some shit up and rolling some ink all up in there - this is a pretty expensive pursuit, I have discovered in my research, especially an etching press - usually about $2000. However I've seen a little A4 one at this supplier in napier for $250. I am tempted to save up a little more and buy it because it seems more worthwhile to buy something to further my artistic education rather than the sort of selfish choice of spending it to decorate myself.
Basically, what I am trying to say, in my roundabout, run-on sentences and unsure way, is WHAT SHOULD I DO?
I want the tattoo, I've saved up twice for it now and I get all excited when I think about having it, but I also have many doubts about the endeavour.
Also, I want the etching press, but it's more expensive and what if I get the press and get all the printing supplies and then I'M NO GOOD AT IT AND IT SUCKS?
I guess I could sell it.
So, friends, who I rely on to run my life for me -
Which should I do?

??????

ouch

2007-06-09T13:14:00.000+12:00

So alcohol, right?
Am I right?

It does interesting things to people, they lose their inhibitions and slur their speech. Sometimes they piss themselves.

My theory is that it takes your brain back to some sort of primitive mental state where pissing on the floor is just one of those things and you sort of cant talk very well, sometimes you get angry over nothing, or you get all horn-doggy, but it's cool.
When you get too drunk your body, in it's primitive mode, automatically shuts down and puts you to sleep. Sometimes it even directs you home on autopilot, which is handy.
Cavemen, as I have been led to believe, were agressive and often intoxication makes people fisty, their blows fly wildly from poorly developed cro-magnon hand-eye coordination.
Dumb things are suddenly important and humorous because our view of the world isn't crippled by nihilism, or any other mumbo-jumbo junk that an 'intelligent' mind filters everything through.
Being drunk takes us back to our roots. Less brain cells and more hormones, more instinctiveness. It's simple and lovely and fun to drink sometimes, to fall back on our unconcious - we let that part of ourselves get far too lazy.

Enjoy your weekend and drink some alcohol. The collective unconcious is just a chimp on a typrewriter.

what a dud

2007-06-02T14:57:00.000+12:00

EW that was the biggest dud ever, it pretty much felt like nothing and I have a wild hangover today - even party pills have stronger effects than that big dudded up waste of time called ecstacty. I got pretty drunk last night though, which I haven't done in a while, so that was fun - I assume. I dont remember a huge amount, which is a shame because I was having some pretty nice conversations.

Also, my whole flat were crowded around my bedroom last night listening to the sounds of me having sex. This morning they were reenacting everything for me. Chloe did some shocking sounding grunts. Sex noises are so weird.
Nice one, guys.

sit a coffee on it

2007-06-01T20:55:00.000+12:00

Yo, this is a special shout out blog for genevieve, my homegirl.
What's up? How are you going, take a moment to ponder this and answer me in your own time.
Is there any funny gossip, you might be asking yourself, well, to tell you the truth, there isnt really. My life is pretty mundane, but I'll talk it up for you and that pesky sister of yours.
Um, so it's holidays now. I've got six whole weeks and it's going to be awesome. I'm going to contract full blown aids. I'm having a few beverages with the usual krew. The Kompton Krunk Krew (KKK)
South side.
Oh I bought some ecstacy. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to blog about this or not, but I've got some friends on the force, so I wont get arrested.
It was $60 and it's a lot bigger, like, thicker than I thought it would be -I thought it would be a tiny little tablet, but it's just bigger than that. It's bright yellow with a groove on one side so you can cut in it half to share it and on the other side theres a little superman symbol carved into it. Probably because I will become superman when I take it.
I'm going to share it tonight with manflesh (names have been changed to protect their identities - I'm sure you can guess).
So I guess the police can plan their raid pretty easy now.
Anyway, I'll blog again to let you know how it went down. I was told by my, ah, 'dealer' that I shouldnt get my hopes up because it wont be as awesome as I want it to be (nothing is, sigh...).
Where was I going with this, oh yeah, I'm going to partake of ecstacy and I'll let you know how it goes. I've heard sooo many stories about it being sooo cool and awesome and great, but im trying not to expect too much, it'll probably just be like taking rapture or something like that. I'll relax and watch the sports news and bond with it.
Um, what else has been goin on?
I wish I had the dollars to come back to mot. I want to sit at the red beret and celcius and eat cheesecake and drink coffee and talk about how we're better than everyone else. I miss those times.
Okay I'm going to end this now because I really havent talked about anything, nor do I have anything to discuss. In conclusion, I, the yellow dart plan the play video games for several hours.
Miss ya! Keep it real.

sweet dreams are made of these

2007-05-27T20:13:00.000+12:00

Ew, so having a strange dream, for me, is not an uncommon occurance. In fact, I remember 90% of my dreams and about 90% of those are weird. You do the math.
Last night I dreamed that I was a street hardened cop, on the case of a serial killer (I know, thats not very weird, more like I watch too many movies, just wait), the killers M.O. was to strip the victim naked and behead them over a big sheet of butchers paper, then they'd drag the body around by their feet all over the butchers paper to make a jackson pollock sort of 'painting'. It was pretty graphic.
Eventually I found this guy in some rural town hall right as he was about to behead some chick and it was Chris, my flatmate!
I was all like, well damn, this is awkward, now isnt it?
He came over and hugged me and was really pleased to see me, then I sort of switched point of view - I was seeing things from his perspective and in his mind the whole town hall was full of people watching him (he was on the stage) and clapping.
They were all dressed up like it was some fancy black-tie event and there was even a stage crew, shining a spotlight on him and opening the curtains for his show. His murderous art show...
Weird, weird, weird.
Also I could jump really high.

aint no chump

2007-05-24T21:11:00.000+12:00

People who know me would agree that I am the sort of person who needs to make their own mistakes. Sure, I can see people around me trying something and failing, getting injured, or experiencing some other mistforture due to their actions, but I need to do it for myself before I can learn anything. Maybe it was just a fluke? Maybe I'll get lucky? Maybe making that particular mistake is a load of fun?

Some people say that doing the same thing twice and expecting different results is foolish, but I beg to differ; scientific process demands a larger sample pool than just one trial. In a way, my foolish actions are selfless, I am edifying the human race by helping to confirm exacty what is and what is not a mistake.

I have seen a few people drink a bottle of wine in ten minutes - it has never ended up well. The average human body is only able to process one standard alcoholic beverage per hour.
I have seen people making this mistake and learned nothing, I had to do it for myself, I had to get educated on the intricacies of inappropriate alcohol consumption and I had to do it for humanity, for science.
I'd been randomly selected and yes, I was willing to become part of the sample group.

The wine was quite nice, as well. I usually buy wine only when I'm too broke for harder liquor and I get the cheapest bottle, but this bottle was averagely priced; it tasted classy, but not too classy, like eating out at a restaurant with a plastic tablecloth.
Ten minutes later, the wine was gone. I celebrated this fact with a shot of absinth.

Anyway, I said some snarky things to my flatmates, talked in a vague; broad manner about very specific happenings, ate a pita bread full of cheese (given by a flatmate in hopes of sobering me up), threw up the pita bread full of cheese, and smoked 14 cigarettes.
Three and a half hours later I was sober enough to be aware of my surroundings and talking cohesively, albeit slurringly. I no longer had to close one eye in order not to see double.

Experiment complete and a lesson finally learned, I went to sleep at four AM, Seven hours after initial wine consumption.

You're welcome, science.

bookmarks

2007-05-21T18:03:00.000+12:00

I downloaded the latest firefox update and when all was said and done all my bookmarks were gone. I spend ages cultivating those dudes! Damnit!

In other news, you know how in movies about university life everyone is always partying and drinking and sleeping with eachother? Until recently, my feelings were, whaat? It's not even like that at all, whos life is like that?
After this weekend though, I've realized that although my life isnt exactly all about the drinking and slutting it up for dear life, that most people who I surround myself with are stereotype college students from a movie. It's so weird! How had I gone 18 months without noticing this? Even denying this? How, when it's actually ridiculously obvious? I live in a party-hardy frat house full of hormones and liquor. The shenanigans that go down here are worthy of yet another american pie sequel, American Pie 11, I guess we're up to now, right?

I actually can't get over it. How have I not noticed it? This is so weird!
I used to be all, tertiary students just aren't that desperate, they just aren't! I would cringe at those movies and wonder what sort of fictional, ideal student experience they were based on. Heres the news people: The movies are just based on everyday joe schmo student, doing regular student junk like drinking and whoring.

Seriously, how have I never noticed the amounts of alcohol I consume, or the number of crazy, whacked out sexual encounters my friends have?

Dont be blind like I have been. Take stock and appreciate your university years, I guess.

Siblet

2007-05-17T19:27:00.000+12:00

Siblings.
I am the youngest of five, two half brothers, one half sister and a 'regular' brother. I don't think in terms or halves and wholes though. As the youngest, I have become accustomed to being treated a certain way by both my parents and my siblings. Growing up, I always despised this treatment. Parents crave a youngster to coddle and I being the final and youngest youngster was coddled for far too long.
Sibling read this as preferential treatment. Spoilage. They also feel a sense of responsibility for me - because of all the over coddling, I am percieved as weak - or something.
So I am resented and protected. Now that I am an adult, this strange combination of behaviour has dissapeared, which is good I suppose, but now I don't know how to act, or to react. We used to have little parts we would play out act by act. My two 'favourites' (yeah I have favourites) are different towards me now and I thought it was what I wanted all along but I was comfortable with my routine.

My sister sent me some texts tonight and for once I text her back without resorting to play acting my expected 'youngest sister' role. I am not used to it. It's not bad, I'm just not used to it.

That is all I guess.

Irrational thought

2007-05-15T12:25:00.000+12:00

you know what I find odd?
We are intelligent, logical (somewhat), reasonable (sometimes) people, yet we all have done something which goes against all of this - irrational thinking. I don't understand it.
I know what I'm thinking is wrong, yet I continue to think - and believe it anyway. How is this possible?

I feel that I especially am prone to this irrational thinking habit. Not only do I harbour several irrational fears, which I recognise to be irrational, logic tells me there is nothing to fear, yet I continue to experience fear.
Also I think I'm better than everyone. This isn't just sometimes, when I'm talking to someone stupid or predjudiced. I regularly think I am better than everyone.
I know this is irrational, we're all equal, other things of that nature, yet I continue to feel aggravated at the people around me for being lowly and aggravated at myself for being too awesome.
I'm really exaggerating here, of course, but it's weird isnt it?
I know I'm not better than anyone else, but something innate wants me to disagree with myself and society and morality.
Something requires me to be irrational - which in itself negates anything which would make me better than anyone.

Sometimes I wish there were hyper intelligent robots around so they could explain my own logic to me.
Where are you when I need you, robots?
I'm really important, didn't you hear?

take a look at my girlfriend

2007-05-14T16:13:00.000+12:00

argh, I thought I was through with that goddamn song, I was done with it, but I'm sitting in the lounge and we're listening to the radio and it started playing and the catchiness is growing on me. I actually hate this stupid, catchy song. It is tearing me in two. IN TWO!
Now Jared Leto is singing, he's in a band! Who saw that coming? He's not terrible, either, as I assumed he would be (sorry mr leto). Music is so weird. I don't understand how there can be a song I dislike so much, but need - NEED to listen to.
What the hell?

I like...

2007-05-13T19:53:00.000+12:00

my flatmates, they're so crude.
I also like outtakes from movies and television. It makes me feel like there could/should be some sort of halfway point between scripted and reality programming. Maybe the actors get some sort of idea, an outline of what should happen and what to say, but they mostly get to make things up.

Ad lib sitcoms would be more appreciated because the humour wouldn't be carefully built up by a team of writers, it would just be some dudes doing their thing.
The canned laughter would sort of play at odd or innapropriate times. Maybe there should just be a 'surreal night' of television once a week, with dadaist reinactments of popular shows, the news would be the same, except the camera would be turned upsidedown and fake moustaches would abound. Crime shows would find the guilty party in the first five minutes, then spend the rest of the hour doing paper work.
Dramas would have actors occasionally look at the camera, 'this is some shit, right?' they'd ask us all - and it would be. It would be some shit.
There would be a show like 'survivor', but with contestants finding their way through a giant hedge maze, the prize? Their family gets to live.

I need to find someone with some sway at tvnz. I'm sure I can get surreal tv night to catch on. Who wouldn't watch a half hour show that consisted entirely of people flipping pancakes in frying pans over and over again?
You tell me who that person is, I want to talk to them.

that is what it looks like

2007-05-09T12:06:00.000+12:00

So have you ever been sitting around, thinking to yourself, What would a ninety egg omelette look like? What circumstances would cause such an omelette to arise? How should one present an omelette of such distinction?
Well here are all your answers.
The above photo is what a ninety egg omelette looks like. Piping hot and served fresh on a plastic cutting board. Two frying pans were utelized, along with some milk to give that smooth, omelettey texture. It was created as a birthday cake for a friend/neighbour who is on a protein diet.
It is now sitting in the bottom of our refrigerator looking soggy and sad and half eaten.
Here are more photos of the omelette.

douche is french for shower

2007-05-09T12:00:00.000+12:00

I swiped this beauty from eatliver.com
Oh so relationship problems are caused by the dirty, unnatural fluids from my vagina.
IF ONLY IT WERE THAT EASY?

well wasnt that something?

2007-05-07T11:30:00.000+12:00

Hahaha, did you read that drunken blog? What was going on there?
Ooh wait, my toast popped. mmm toast.
im typing with one hand (the other being full of toast) so thats why there are no capital letters anymore. deal with it.
So I got a b- for my first computers assignment, which is fair, but I'm certainly not very happy. This I am taking as a signal (a very obvious one once I think about what has been leading up to this). A signal that my intended major of time based, filmy shennanigans was maybe something I wanted to do, but not what I should be doing. This will probably make no sense to anyone reading, but it makes sense to me. Perfect sense.
I feel like I need to be working on my illustrations.
However knowing me, I will get another 'sign' in a few months telling me something different so I have an excuse for things.
You know what I dont like?
People called 'thom'. It's like, get rid of that silent H you wangface.

drunken blog

2007-05-06T00:16:00.000+12:00

Here I'm drunk now and totally going to blog. Well I told the select few, which is to say, the Select Few something embarrasing and personal. I even said hey keep it on the down low but tonight when the drinks are flowing there are all these jokes getting thrown out there and I cant deny it.
I actually cant keep my eyes open but cocktail nights are fun and too filling though like I cant fit as many in my belly as I wish my belly could fill. It's the liquid that maeks me bloated.
I dont even know where they came from, I just woke up and people were drinking cocktails so I was like sweet, I'll take one of them.
Then michaela was trying to force me to do all these shots and I fucking hate shotting and she seemed to think because I have this reputation that I would just be like okay yeah I'll do the shots if you tell me to, which is actually not how I roll at all. I mean you have to be true to yourself and all that jazz hands.

Why are they jazz anyway, they should be just hands

you spin me right round

2007-05-03T20:13:00.000+12:00

Ah, Boy George. I can't say I'm exactly a fan, I can only name one song and I hate that he used enough garish makeup for a small island nation.
Well I'm really tired and have been ignoring many of my responsibilities in favour of gadding about with friends. Gadding about is so much more fun, but now it's thursday night. I went to sleep last night at two thirty or something. Life is full of regrets.
It seems I'm only really capable of getting into the spirit of one class project at a time. If only I didn't have to juggle a whole THREE classes.
I go to class and start doing the work for my latest assignment - Generally get all excited/inspired and go home to continue working on things. Come the end of the week and I'm ahead for one class and desperately behind in the others. People always said I had a one track mind...

Yeah so tomorrow I have fine art sp. topic and we're supposed to be working on some 3d... somethingorather, but I've spent all week doing self portraits and rushing about getting my computers assignment done. Oh and a lot of gadding about. Perhaps too much, but you only life once.
No one is ever on their deathbed, listing lifes mistakes and says, "If only I hadn't had so much fun with the people I care about!"

In fact, you know how parents and role models always try to tell you not to procrastinate, not to waste time just hanging out, just getting drunk or causing trouble with pals? They always tell you to work hard and you'll regret it if you dont because then you wont be successful and you will have no future.
Maybe fuck having some successful future, or whatever successful means. Maybe living entirely focused on the present and seeking pleasure and satisfaction with the minimum of effort and the maximum of enjoyment is what I should be doing. Maybe I should become the ultimate hedonist.
The only work I will do is work which brings me instant and long lasting pleasure.
I guess that means I find myself a rich sugar-daddy patron who will buy all my art at exorbitant prices and shower me with praise.
I would totally love to just be an artist. Y'know? But like, a happy one, not a gloomy starving one living in a hovel waiting for their break.
Although that actually sounds pretty fun too because then I could complain which I am good at.
Basically hedonism is easy when you enjoy everything, or enjoy when things are terrible - which is maybe more the case for me.

PS. my self portrait assignment is getting put on dev art so if you want to check that out by all means go look but it's nothing fantastic

ow

2007-05-02T10:17:00.000+12:00

I feel like I have heartburn, but it's on the wrong side.
So you know black holes right?
Everyone thinks you get sucked into them never to be seen again, well it turns out it's not that easy.
Observe:

Notice how there seem to be stars and gas and other space junk just sort of hanging about just outside the black hole? They're not getting sucked in, infact, that's how the astronomers and their buddies the astrophysists can even tell theres a black hole there, by checking out the stuff that is orbiting around the black hole. Black holes have mass and therefore gravity, so thats why stuff gets sucked towards it, but unfortunately for the sci fi fans, you dont just get sucked in if you happen to be starship enterprising along past one (yes starship enterprising is a verb).
The point at the cenre of a black hole is called the singularity and thats where space-time is the most warped. It's so compressed that it's pretty much just a zero in size and mass and that good stuff, even though our physics rules don't allow things to have zero size, the black hole just doesnt care, but I digress.

Basically you would have to be pretty much in the black hole to get sucked into it, which you'd have to be pretty dumb to go enterprising past where all the stars and gas are orbiting into this black abyss. I mean, you're asking for trouble. It's sort of more fun to just imagine flying around minding your own business and them wham, you're just getting sucked by this inescapable force that light itself cannot escape from.

In conclusion, I'm sorry I destroyed your fantasy, but if it's ruined for me, it has to be ruined for everyone.

Here are some neat primitive looking graphics for your edification. I nicked them from the cornell university website.
This one is what space time does when it encounters something of large mass and size, like a sun:

This is what happens when space time comes across a black hole:

skeet

2007-04-30T19:44:00.000+12:00

Oh fuck. Actually fuck.
I am the worst with mobile phones. In six years (I was 13 when I got my first phone) I have had eleven phones. Now, I'm not one of those trendwhores who just has to have the latest in bluetooth technology, or require a replacement the instant my screen gets a scratch.
I'm just unlucky. Unable to choose a phone that isn't cursed to last less than a year (I have never had a phone more than a year) Fated to never be able to remember my number, which will inevitably change like the tides (cue emotional piano solo)

Today, a few hours after I had asked my parents for money for something else (!), I dropped my phone. Into water.
Electrical devices and water are notorious enemies and this union of phone and liquid were no different, my poor phone is dead. Functioning on nothing more than life support - turning itself desperately on and off by itself, almost struggling for life. Damnit, was all I could say as I tried drying the components separately, blowing onto its cold little microchips like a sad parody of resuscitation. Dont die on me! I need you! Didn't you think about me when you did this?!!

I've had some good times with this phone in the 10 months I've had it. The number was pretty easy to remember (It had lots of sevens - Not so lucky sevens) and it was easy to use. Now the buttons squish uselessly into the key pad and the handy little torch on top is stuck on. That phone was with me for some good conversations and some wonderful texts (they were saved in the archive. Now they are gone...)
Goodbye, fair nokia. I'm sorry you had to get stuck with me. Your days were numbered, but you served them gallantly.
Adieu, adieu.... Adieu.

sketchy

2007-04-30T10:47:00.000+12:00

Well, as usual I'm supposed to be at school right now, but I'm laying in my room drinking a coffee, listening to The Avalanches and swigging coffee out of a dirty cup.
I was in class, but I've done all I can do, I need to put the image onto a usb and find a screen printer.
Heres what I'm turning into a t-shirt.
Can you handle it?
Well last night I had an odd dream. I was some sort of professional skater (...?) I was really good, had all the moves - it was fun because even though I was actually asleep, it was like I could feel myself flipping around.
Maybe I was seizing or something.
The thing was, I lived waaay out in some rural valley, the only place I could go skate was this weird sort of druid altar, which was generally fine because the druids weren't usually there and there'd be other people skating it up there too.

HOWEVER, I was with Steve ( I had just had a strange arguement with my dream mother. I dont know what it is with dream mother, but we never get along.) He drove us through some big gothic looking gates into the druid compound to go skate it up at their digs, but as we drove up I could see that thy were using it. They were all cliche times, wearing black cloaks, beards, serious faces. They looked up as we pulled up. A shiver ran down my spine. I turned to steve and told him to drive away, but before he could, the cult dudes (I dont know what they were. My shadow I guess - faceless, black, unsettling.) all dove upon the car and were draggin us out. I managed to get away temporarily, but when I got back to the big gates, they were closed and the druids got me.

Thats when C-dogg's alarm woke me up.

hahah it's a snail and a penis too

2007-04-27T20:59:00.000+12:00

shut up and sleep with me

2007-04-27T20:43:00.000+12:00

It's a song, relax.
Oh man but you know what, I have these three songs which I have been listening to non stop and I can't get over their catchy beats. They're sort of dumb songs but I can't stop! I cant stop listening to them!!! What is the world coming to?!!!?!??!!11!!!1?!?!!

What are these songs, you ask?
well, let me start of by saying that this isn't like me at all, I'm not hugely into hiphop and I'm not really into the whole top 40 shebang. (I'm waaay to trendy for that)
but I'm listening to a constant repeat of:
Gym Class Heroes - Cupids Chokehold
Obie Trice (feat. Akon) - Snitch
Sin with Sebastian - Shut up and sleep with me

If you download, or God forbid, PURCHASE LEGALLY, these songs I hope you don't end up sitting in your room alone listening to them over and over and over again. Lousy catchiness.

I mean, she even cooks me pancakes, and alka seltzer when my tunny aches.
It rhymes!
Then the chorus has that easy to remember "bah da da da"
Fucking deep, meaningful shit, y'know?

Theres only one answer I want to hear

2007-04-26T19:22:00.000+12:00

So c-dogg accidentally broke a window in next doors flat a few weeks ago.
When I saw it was an accident I dont mean she was throwing a ball around and it 'accidentally' hit the window, or she was throwing punches and one accidentally flew the direction of the window, she leaned back against it and it just cracked. These things happen.
The ex-army jackass from next door just came barrelling over demanding to know what she planned on doing to 'unfuck this fucked up situation' Apparently there was only one answer he wanted to hear, otherwise he was going to come down on her like he came down on his army guys.
It was pretty funny but also what a jerk, taking it upon himself to extract payment. Who does this guy think he is?

In other mundane flat news, I couldnt find my flannel, so I washed my face with a tea towel. It did an adequate job so I was pleased. I looked at myself in the mirror for a little while, then went and sat in the lounge to watch Oprah.

Tough Anzac Day Choices

2007-04-25T14:18:00.000+12:00

I eventually decide on penne, after much deliberation.

2007-04-25T13:34:00.000+12:00

I had this horrible dream last night where I was stuck in a game sort of like a combination between Second Life and Avalon It was one of those 'if you die in Canada, you die in real life' type things so I was trying to keep to myself, but these creepos kept harrassing me all up in my grill
Anyway, so I got all pissed off and was running past these people and slicing at their faces with something sharp I had on me. I was doing it so fast that at first the creepos hardly noticed, but when they did they all surrounded me in a circle of vengeance.
Somehow and all of a sudden, within this angry circle was my family and friends, basically everyone I love. The mob was all stabbing at them and blood was going everywhere and I was feeling guilty and freaking out, like noo take me instead. The angry mob were like well okay so they started stabbing at me, like all the way through my arms with these big machete things, but also still aiming for my 'loved ones', I was trying to protect people and stop them getting stabbed but it wasnt really happening.
Then I woke up in a cold sweat all freaked out like, 'nobody dream stabs MY homies but me!'
It was especially weird because usually in dreams I am pretty aware that I'm dreaming and wouldn't really care if I was seeing my mother get stabbed in the spine, but NOT THIS TIME.
Ew I also woke myself up at another point in the night with the sound of my own snoring. Snoring!

Premonition

2007-04-24T11:27:00.000+12:00

I dreamed last night that I was on a train and now I really want to be on a train.
I also think I was maybe fighting with someone, but that was probably my SHADOW (I'm getting all Karl Jung on your ass and theres nothing you can do about it)

In other news, do you know what a great word is? Ineffable. It's so useful, it pretty much means something that words cant describe, so you can use it whenever you're too lazy to properly describe something.
Some people say that the human soul is ineffable, but my guess is they are just being lazy because I'm SURE theres a wikipedia article about it
here it is, you lazy philosophers.

Ineffable is also used by some dudes/dudettes to describe things that are highly subjective, like love. This is completely stupid and wrong and if I ever catch you doing this I will NOT take you with me on my train ride.

Ew the bottom of my coffee mug has a pile of grinds in it. I am so ineffably mad right now you guys.

huzzah!

2007-04-23T19:55:00.000+12:00

So I've been requested to blog(something I do so well).
This must mean I have become extremely popular, but it's okay because there's enough Sarah to go around.
Did anyone notice I removed the word "bachelorette" from the little description at the top of the page? That was no accident.
School has started up again and kaloo-kalay, the latest brief is all about self portraiture. As anyone who blogs knows, we're a self obsessed sort, so I'm pretty well versed on the whole self portrait game. C-dog has even offered to help me make a SELF PORTRAIT FILM OMGWTFBBQ this has never been done before in the history of art. I'll probably put it on youtube when/if it's done. I've actually got a bunch of arty (I said arty, not emo 'i cant look directly at the camera') photos (courtesy of c-dogg) and maybe even a drawing or two.
Fuck, I really love myself, huh?

Something like that, yeah.

2007-04-22T16:13:00.000+12:00

Well today I did a photo shoot with my friends, what did you do?
Thats a really washed out photo of me, but I like it so deal with it in the most possible way. I'm going to kill you until you die from it.
(hot shots 2, for those keeping track of my quotage)
School starts again tomorrow and I don't have any pressing topics to discuss, basically I'm just listening to fiona apple and wishing I did more of my homework while I had the chance. Stupid life filled with regret.

The photo shoot was fun, just with my flatmates, we got dressed up in black and white and I had great Wednesday Addams makeup. I even got to wear my new FROCK.
Went to the waterfront where we saw that politician with the dreadlocks, Nandor something... We got a photo with him, he was talking about earth day and recycling... some shit.
After that excitement we sat on the diving board which juts off the waterfront and sprawled over eachother until the memory card was full. Nice way to spend a day, you should try it with your flatmates some time.
Unless they're dicks who never do the dishes, then forget about it.

bourgeoise

2007-04-20T10:13:00.000+12:00

I don't know if I spelled that right, but the upper middle class, right? Whats their deal? What is their collective deal?
Why is it that racial stereotypes and distinctions are pretty much okay to joke/comment on these days, but people sort of shy away from class stereotyping, even as the gaps between lower incomes and high incomes grows?
I think it's a fair statement that income and therefore social class (thats just how the world works people) has a bigger impact on a persons behaviour, but why is it that we joke about asian drivers and black criminals rather than the single white male driver with disposable income? Or what about those low income earning criminals?
Those poor people are always stealing things! I mean come on! Is it too easy to joke based on class boundaries? Too touchy an area?
I'm just sort of sick of lame old racial humour that isnt even neccessarily true.
I demand accuracy in humourous stereotypes and if you do too, I suggest making the change from race based stereotyping to class based.
It will be pretty satisfying for everyone I think.
But what do I know I am lower middle class trash y'all

evs

2007-04-19T12:20:00.000+12:00

So I'm actually at school right now. Can you believe that?
Well you're going to have to believe it because it's true. I'm just doing some very important school work that is probably going to positively impact the entire world.
So, you know, just the usual basically.

For those of you who didn't quite buy that, I'm really just turning the above image into an illustration using (funnily enough) Illustrator. Who knows, this small action may end up saving all of human kind. Have you people never heard of the chaos theory?
Last year in an art history class I used the word 'entropy' in an essay (completely in context, I mean, come on) and when I got the paper back the word was circled and a big question mark had been drawn above it in that no-mans land of a double spaced page.
I found this at first ironic, then troubling. VERY troubling. What was the reason for the question mark? Surely a harried tutor isnt going to spend time searching essays for places they can use their red pens to make things ironic. Did the tutor think I had made some mistake in using this word? Did they not recognise the word? Why was no further explanation offered?
After I considered these options I decided that the question mark must have been a secret handshake of sorts.
A symbol that they too are aware of entropy and the implication that our insignificant actions may shockwave through the fibres of the universe to create all sorts of consequences. Maybe when you picked your nose the other day, you pulled a string in the wrong direction, it rippled across time and KILLED THE DINOSAURS.

NICE GOING I CANT BELIEVE YOU KILLED THE DINOSAURS JEEZ

2007-04-15T13:10:00.000+12:00

Dead Birds for everyone!

What is with the dead birds getting photographed and painted all over the place? Seriously, art world, I'm sort of getting over it you need to find some new way of speaking to my conscience about mortality. THERES LIKE TWENTY OTHER WAYS OF DOING IT GUYS WHY DONT YOU MIX THINGS UP A LITTLE

Make the money.

2007-04-14T16:22:00.000+12:00

DID YOU KNOW?

that ever since I was little (I'm talking ten, eleven years old) I have wanted a tattoo, however also ever since I was little I have been incredibly indecisive. These two aspects of my life dont mesh particularly well because although I want a tattoo, I either dont know what I want it to be of, or I do - only to change my mind a few weeks later.
If I am to have something needled into my skin I really would rather it be something I'm not immediately going to get tired of. You dig?
For about two years now I've been slowing down, trying to focus and I really thought I had decided what I want. I really did. This image branching gracefully down my ribs (riblets) and another sparrow in the same style about to alight on the bottom of the branch. It's really a beautiful image and sparrows are one of those animals that seem to represent something to me (Just something, okay.) and I was dead set on this, even starting to get excited, looking for an artist who I would trust to do it, saving up my dollars (Hard to do when you're an unemployed student, believe me.)
Then two things happened.
First, I saw this:
Okay. SOMEONE OUT THERE ALREADY DID IT. It looks SO good too, which makes me scared that mine would not measure up to that lovely job and also pissed that they beat me to it! I cant even believe it.
Then, if that wasnt enough, I reached my savings goal. I figured this would cost me $250 to do, right? So I have now saved up this amount of money and it's scary. Now I need to actually go do it. No excuses now really, is there? But I keep humming and hawing... Maybe I should start with something smaller? (I do have a few smaller projects I wouldnt mind getting into...)
Basically I'm just freaking out at this point about whether or not I am going to change my mind because fuck, I will be angry if I change my mind and I just KNOW that I am going to think of something one day that I'd like tattooed on my ribs (riblets) and have to be all, like "Oh shit, yeah I already have my ribs ribleted, dang."

Okay enough pointlessness about myself. How was your day?
*It's been pretty alright, Sarah*

Oh I know what else I wanted to say, I have decided that my being dark and negative isnt just angst. Which for ages I figured it was, but now I realise it's a philosophy and one I try to adhere to. Let me explain; see life is not wonderful, it's merely tolerable. There is the choice to give in to all the worldliness out there and say it's beautiful and make it so, but there is also the choice to suffer and I am realising that, theologically, this is the right one. This is not the life to enjoy is all I'm coming to see and it's good to know this because I, like you, have struggled with the responsibility society has given me to be happy and enjoy life, maybe to even give back a little.
Secular society has it all wrong! Life is ugly, people are foolish and the world is just dirt, not a wonderful, living, breathing mother of us all. To attempt to find happiness in amongst all the sadness is folly and furthermore will restrict your capacity to experience happiness in the future i.e. When we are dead.

Think it over people. The flagellants were pretty clever people.

Oh oh

2007-04-07T16:23:00.000+12:00

Well last night I meant to drunkenly blog because blogging drunk (blunking) is neat. When you go read it the next day, it's like you've never seen any of it before.
Try it out next time you're drinking and blogging.
Blog.

lolcats

2007-04-05T18:11:00.000+12:00

I'm ALWAYS into internet memes. They make me feel like I'm part of something large, impersonal and stupid, but completely non political or corporate. They make me feel clever when I get them, and left out of the joke when I dont.
I love being able to chuckle to myself when someone says, "all your base are belong to us" on a forum, or a picture of an owl saying "ORLY?" gets posted on a blog. What about that kid who was fooling around with the golf club and then everyone turned him into a starwars guy?
I was there.
To me, the memes are a neat part of the internet culture. I'm white, so I don't often get to claim culture for myself. I leap at any chances to be part of something.

I have been admiring the whole Lolcat meme thing for a while, thinking, okay cute, but it's sort of done now. I get it, the cute cats are doing stuff and theres 'internety' captions over them.
If you like that sort of thing, check some out at this site.
BUT THEN,
I saw this one and I knew the competition was over.

So there you go.

old games.

2007-04-05T00:11:00.000+12:00

What games do you remember playing on your computer when you were young?
For me it was Duke Nukem, the original 2d. I clocked that so many times, but always loved it.
Then there was crystal caves and fairy godmother, which I enjoyed somewhat, but was never successful in.
Last but not least, Commander Keen. I loved everything about this game. The surreal concept and kooky music. The way you could jump around on a pogo stick. The easter eggs hidden in the alien language. All of it was just magical and so addictive.
What have modern games lost? They have their fantastic graphics and intricate story lines. You could lose your whole life in one of them, but the fun is somehow missing. The connection between gamer and the person who created the game is gone. I for one miss that.
I am drunk by the way.
Good night.

Thats right!

2007-04-03T23:48:00.000+12:00

Okay folks,
it would seem I'm back. I dont know for how long and I dont even know if anyone even reads this, but evs, right?
So today was weird. Did you guys know that I actually cant go into a supermarket like a regular person?
No, I'm what you might call an oddball.

Firstly, I can't go there when it's busy. Thats a no-brainer. Too many bodies, trollies, children crying, hands reaching for shelves. Mayhem.

Secondly, I can't go there with other people. Friends, Family, anyone. I try to play it cool and go shop it up with friends who need to do their shopping too, or people who want to tag along and chat while I shop, but I just cant do it. How do I tell these well meaning friends? "Oh actually can you go shopping and tell me when you've left the store so I can go in alone?"
I cant exactly say no to these people who make an already difficult task even more unbearable. I've tried to do it all different ways, but I have finally concluded - I NEED TO SHOP ALONE.

Thirdly, I need to have a detailed list of what I want to buy and a pen with me to add up prices as I go along. This takes out the confusion of trying to remember what I need, the temptation of sneaking un-budgeted items into the trolley. A list reduces the need to go down uneccessary isles or lift my head to peruse uneccessary shelves. Distractions which I can do without.

Shopping for me is a loathsome task. Any shopping really, but especially groceries. I look at all the different types of bread, colours and bargains screaming out at me. A wall stacked high with selections and it just crushes me. It hurts my soul to be bombarded with packaging and slices and grains and Superdeals of the week. I dont like selections. I dont like making choices.

I wish there were just a single loaf of bread laying non-threateningly on the ground. One choice, no stress. No harried price comparisons. No flicking over the tags to find the best 'use by' date. Just a loaf waiting for me to take home.

Bright lights, garish colours and blaring signs everywhere declaring "Savings!", "coupon!", "Special Value!" All vying for attention.
It's a sensory overload. Something my simple brain cant handle and it just shuts down on me, leaving me in a sort of primitive survival mode.
Get the basics, grab anything, lets just GO.

To the checkout where I must sort out everything in order of most durable to most crushable, with soaps, cleaners, and other possibly contaminating products placed last. If I fail this task, I fail in the eyes of the checkout operator and the bagger. If I perform my task too slowly, I fail in the eyes of whoever stands in line behind me.
Every item beeps as it passes through, reminding me that it's all adding up. Asking me whether I have enough money, or face the embarrasment of putting something back.

I'm just glad to make it out of there with a few shreds of sanity. My cold sweat. My quivering hands - I can handle all that once I get some fresh air outside the mausoleum mart.
I was almost buried alive in there again, but somehow made it out alright.

sorry guys

2006-10-27T12:11:00.000+13:00

I haven't posted in a while. Thats because I'm staying with my Ma at the moment and the internet is very hard to come by. I sort of check my email and thats that. there is a plushie anteater atop the scanner keeping an eye on me. Making sure I dont break the rules. Well theres no rules about listening to the mint chicks!
Yeah, I'm such a rebel, right? One day, with much training, maybe you too can be a rebel like me. I've pretty much got it all, as far as rebellion goes - all the desirable aspects; I drink, I smoke, I listen to ghostface killah, sometime I don't hang the towels up properly. You could say I'm heading down the fast track to thuggery, but I would reply, "Up yours, ugly!" regardless of your actual physical appearance. I'm just ruthless like that. Knocking 'em down left right and centre, bam, bam, bam, bam. Like some sort of weather phenomena - a typhoon of rebellion. Civil defence recommends you lock your doors and venture outside only if you want a fist full of badass right in your grill.
Grill means mouth in this context.
On the breakfast news this morning I saw a video of a pelican snapping up a pigeon off the ground and trying to swallow it while the pigeon struggled. This video isnt it, but it is similar -
why dont you check it out?

Actually, I have to conclude - birds are pretty sick

Birds!

Drugs

2006-10-14T16:12:00.000+13:00

I like drugs. From what little experience I have had, with the tamer substances, I've been impressed. I was laying in bed just before reminiscing about the time I took four 'rapture' party pills, just because I'd had them for ages and needed something to do with 'em.
I didn't go out, it was a sunday and as I recall, I just sat home alone and watched the evening news, noticing the effects come on just as super sports sunday began.
It was very surreal but also completely stereotypical, Like an oxymoronic experience, if you'll bear with me.
As I watched, I began to question myself, "Why don't I ever watch the sports news? This is great! I understand all of it, no I feel an afinity with sports itself."

Sports instantly became something really deep and I felt foolish for dismissing it as boring in the past. I found myself really feeling atuned to big-time sports fans; finally! This is what they're always hooting about! Someone crashed a rally car, this is amazing!
One team beat another in a particular sport - how great for them, how terrible for the other team, boy am I glad I'm not one of them.

So it went until sports were over. I don't recall what I watched next, but I sat through the night just watching television and feeling one with it all at a cosmic level. Maybe TV was my soulmate.
It was really hilarious in hindsight, but even through the silliness of it all, it was really nice too. Just watching tv and feeling all these extreme emotions connected with it, feeling like I was a part of something big.
My father told be a story when I was younger about how in the 70s he used to get high, turn on a record and watch the TV on mute with his friends, all wondering in amazement when the music would match up with the happenings on-screen. He told me it was called 'Hippy Vision'.

Basically I had a good time that night and I thought I should tell the internet about it.
I leave you with the words of the beatles; Everybody must get high.
(That was the beatles right?)

Lovely

2006-10-14T14:26:00.000+13:00

Your daily quota of beauty filled:
Two poems by Ingrid Ankerson, of whom I expect great things.
Go. Read.

Gusty day

2006-10-13T20:47:00.003+13:00

I spend my days just wasting time until I can go to sleep again. It's very fulfilling. Usually I get out a bunch of dvds at the start of the week to watch during the day in between smoking on the balcony, leering at the tiny people trampling my kingdom. Its all very angsty and misunderstood.

So I have my five or six dvds and I brew a bunch of coffee and start watching until I run out. I ran out yesterday and today I just didn't know what to do with myself. I made a coffee, but then what? What do I watch while I'm drinking it? I can't smoke yet, its not intermission. Oh yeah, I also ran out of strikes yesterday, what luck.
Today I was at my wits end and I used what geeks, nerds, and hardcore gamers might call my '1UP' - a voucher for free admission at the rialto. I was wearing my latest creation, a bit of a crookedy dress with a paisley print and a ne'er-do-well hemline. Walking through civic square at 12.45, taking in the sunshine and checking out the business types - a sudden gust of wind caught my skirt and flipped it up around my neck. Lunch hour patrons looked on as I fought to hide my burgundy underwear with the shopping trolley print. I was pretty embarrased.
After I got the hell outta there I went and saw Little Miss Sunshine, which is a comedy.
It had Steve Carell in it, so I knew it was quality. It was a really original idea and while all the characters were flawed in improbable ways (Steve Carell a homosexual suicidal..) it all came together hilariously with pretty good acting. Its basically got something for everyone with part black comedy, part slapstick, and part old-man swearing a lot.

The theatre wasn't very full, but all of us there were laughing out loud at the funny bits and then a baby cried. People with babies shouldn't be allowed to take them out. When I go see a movie I don't want there to be babies there. It's all I ask.

Also really looking forward to seeing mocumentary; Kenny, Crockumentary; Fastfood Nation and Neo-Noir, Brick.
Director, Rian Johnsons, debut, 'evil demon golfball from hell!' gives me high hopes regarding his skill, so hopefully Brick won't let me down. Also Joseph Gordon-Levitt stars and he's pretty good, never let me down so far. I also find him to be a great speaker. Enunciates well, meters his words. Shit like that makes a movie.

Lets go watch some movies this summer together.
Later, intercourse.

Meaty meaty meat.

2006-10-11T20:46:00.000+13:00

Whats up with kosher meat?
All I really know about it is that a rabbi has to be there when the animal is killed and that you cant let the meat touch any non-meat items together on one plate.
This evening I decided to find out more about it and discovered how odd it truely is.

Firstly, there is a list of appropriate and inappropriate creatures for eating and thus slaughtering and secondly, the slaughter doesn't just need to be witnessed or blessed by a rabbi, but a specially trained kosher slaughterer, certified by Jewish authority, must cut the animal in a particular way (called shochet). This involves cutting the trachea and oesphagus with a big razor, letting some blood flow out, then finishing the beast off with another slice.
There is controvery in America over the largest kosher meat slaughterer in the country regarding their technique. You can watch a rather graphic short clip here discussing it.
So after the animal is dead, it is inspected for abnormalities then meat is cut off the animals in a specific way which is apparently quite time consuming because nodes of fat and blood vessels are all avoided.
The cuts of meat are soaked in water in a big special jewish meat tub and finally salted all over and put on a rack so the blood can drain away.
So thats whats up with kosher meat. No blood, no fat and fancily killed.

Here is another short video clip regarding the animal to burger process. This is a 'chicken harvesting' machine. It's pretty short and tame gore-wise but at the same time very unsettling.
I recommend taking a look at both the clips, even if you keep eating meat like I tend to do, at least it's important to know where it came from and the process animals go through to become the product that we consume.

Interesting Science

2006-10-11T13:43:00.000+13:00

Science can be interesting sometimes.
Here you can find two pictures, one of a brain cell, the other an illustration of what physicists imagine the universe to look like.
Marvel at the eerie similarities and make theories about our cells each encompassing entire universes within them, or maybe the opposite, that the universe is really just a brain cell of some cosmic insect, a praying mantis, say.

I personally think it's something to do with fractals. Fractals are always behind it when both science and patterns come together.
However, notice the circled area of the above photo. My own face appears to contain within its complex epidermal cell structure the constellation of Orions Belt.

Coincidence, or Facial Universe?
You decide.

Pizza face

2006-10-10T23:10:00.000+13:00

I don't like acne.
There, I said it.
I know, it's the bane of all teenagers, a passing phase for most, well documented, and much hated - then bam - you hit 21 and it's free and clear.

I guess I have little sympathy for the condition because I myself have never had any problems with it, not to brag or anything - I've certainly had the odd zit, just never a greasy carpet of fleshy craters, like so much pepperoni.
When I have to be in close proximity to an acn-o, as I refer to them, I make an effort to maintain a certain distance, in order not to brush against the oil slick, or be consumed by a crater.

Lots of my friends have had some experience with acne and I should say that it hasn't affected their personality, but I just don't want to be touched my them.
I sometimes try to imagine myself in their place, waking up every morning and having to scrub and blot at my face, then apply careful foundation to hide my shame. It would get tiresome and self-esteem killing pretty quickly, so I'm glad to have my thin eastern european skin, even if it means I'm hairer than a turkish woman (who have the dubious title of 'worlds ugliest women'). Hair can be plucked out, acne is with you every hour of every day - Making ever room you occupy into a pizzaria.
Basically I think thats why I'm never attracted to guys younger than me - they all still have acne, I just imagine going to kiss them and sliding around their greased up face, all red and patchy, uneven shave due to pustules blocking the razor.
Thats just not hot and neither is acne. If you have it, I am very sorry for you because there is a lot wrong with the world, but acne is one that bothers me on an everyday basis.

If you have nice skin, give me a call.

Oh Noetry!

2006-10-10T20:54:00.000+13:00

Well, I mildly embarrassed myself today. I'll tell you about it, take a seat.
I took a shower and, as is my custom, wrapped the towel around my naked self and went on the balcony to let the sunshine dry me off and, to be honest, probably have a smoke or two. The weather was so nice, not windy at all - perfectly warm and sunny, so I sort of made sure the walls of the balcony were shielding me well enough and lost the towel, so as to work on my tan. After a time, the shadow of a crane moved over me and blocked my little patch of sun. I looked over towards the construction in annoyance and saw - two builders in fluoro vests standing on the roof of the new building, not ten metres away and directly level with where I was sitting. They were just sort of glancing over and chuckling. Thankfully not having a big ol' perv, just sort of like "ahaha, someone naked in the sun, that's unexpected."
Regardless of perving or not, I quickly re-towelled myself and clambered in the window to get dressed. I couldn't believe I forgot about the stupid contruction and shit, I'm glad schools over so I never have to walk past them again on my way up to uni.
So thats my sorry tale. Hopefully the last for some time...

Movies, keep talking like a bitch and I'll slap you like a bitch

2006-10-09T22:19:00.000+13:00

Quentin Tarantino movies have a line in them for all situations and are also pretty great.
You should watch some.

I love how they climax in the middle then end abruptly, leaving loose ends and veering from classical narrative style, while also adhering to parts of it in the extreme, almost mocking the stereotypes of classical cinema.
I also love the attention to detail he pays to making the dialogue 'realistic' - Sure, much of it is pretty o.t.t to be sufficiently exciting, but all the conversations people have about music, food and other minutiae? I just love that shit, it makes the characters seem even more knowable and just sort of gives me that 'movie smile' - You know, the one where you're just smiling dumbly at the screen getting all into it.
It may come as no suprise that tonight I watched Pulp Fiction and loved it even more than I did when I was 15. Back then it was like, "oh cool guns!" but now I realize that it's some clever shit goin' down and I appreciate the effort put into the dialogue. Hard to be realistic and exciting, I know whenever Im writing dialogue it's like two planks of wood talking to one another. I can just imagine him sitting in front of a typewriter, talking aloud in different voices, his squinty eyes flashing with brilliance, scraggly hair flying with passion.
I think he and Wes Anderson should get together and collaborate on something.
Can you imagine that? How hard would that rock? That would be some cubic lattice type shit.

I guess I should do a re-write of pinocchio or something.
Hah, get it?... 'cos of the whole wooden thing... ahaha.
I kill myself!

Whats the deal with...

2006-10-08T23:22:00.000+13:00

Sorry to be a Seinfeld, but "what is it with... Burnt CDs and travel?
I have recieved a couple of burnt CDs in the mail over the past few months, all carefully wrapped, but in either paper or a little plastic sleeve, not a jewel case. All parties assure me they gave a test run before mailing and things sounded copasetic, but when I go to spin some tunes, I get error messages or half a song, followed by a thrashing cymbal (sp?) repeating into infinity.
Maybe all my mail passes through a magnetic x-ray device to see if its full of guns and bombs.
Actually that could be right. Fuck, I want my mail to arrive with magnetically stored data intact!

2006-10-08T11:32:00.000+13:00

It was sort of like that, only not at all.

Homey don't play that

2006-10-08T00:05:00.000+13:00

I keep getting emails from Myspace Camwhores, soliciting me to join in on the XXX Teen sLuTz pArTy and it makes me sad.
No, not young women objectifying themselves for money and the affection their fathers never gave them, it's just that I hear the little 'mail' warble and get all excited, thinking I'm going to hear from one of my many handsome european boyfriends with PhDs and trustfunds.
I mean, I haven't heard from any of them in a while and maybe - maybe its because my inbox is too full of camwhore invites.

Soren?
Lars?
Marcello?
Pierre?
I'm worried about you guys. You guys that exist.

Being naked

2006-10-07T23:52:00.000+13:00

I am rather fond of being naked. Many of my close friends are familiar with my Pantsless Saturdays and will probably not be too suprised that I'm typing this topless.
Theres something terrible about that mentos (?) gum commerical though; that man whos nipples grow all long and nubile, like taut little fingers. Something about how all the women he comes across find this incredibly arousing, liquids oozing down their legs as they struggle to contain their carnal urges.
I may be exaggerating slightly, but it's the sort of thing that digs itself a little burrow in my brain and I can't stop thinking about how disgusting it is. I like being naked, nakedness in general I am totally for, but hideous things like this tear me up inside.

I conclude that the following needs to happen, in an effort to clean up advertising standards:
1. All future advertisements must be previewed and assessed by me before being aired.
2. I should get paid for this.
3. That is all.

Cosmo Queenz

2006-10-07T18:48:00.000+13:00

So Did you know that there are actually girls who will buy this months Cosmo Magazine and then buy everything the magazine tells them to buy?
This month, apparently the big thing is patent leather, 'sorbet' colours (a new way of introducing the pastels they march out every spring)
and also whapping big ass ugly bows on everything so you look like a present.
I was down in the dining room, eating my slop when in comes this blonde girl who I just could not take my eyes off. I mean, she was spectacular, Cosmo should give her some sort of award for following instructions so carefully.
A pastel green top, pastel purple skirt, a silver plastic headband, almost as big as her head --
and around her waist?
A silver patent belt.
Now this belt, I'm hoping, was one-of-a-kind because affixed to it was a huge, shiny bow. It was god-awful and matched especially well with her (guess what colour?) silver shoes.
Yay, matching accessories! Too bad you fucked it up with the green and purple. She was just too, too much, like something from a circus freakshow.
I know that bow is going to haunt me forever - that is, if I ever regain my sight.
Thanks a lot, blondie
(PS: You also have chicken legs, cover that scrawny, scaly shit up, man.)

You heard it here first.

2006-10-07T14:48:00.000+13:00

Amy will be returning to Mot on about the 3rd of November. She enjoyed the ball and her makeup was especially nice.
Peter woke up today with morning wood. He plans to study all weekend and will be returning to Mot shortly after Amy.
Chloe is hanging out at home for another week. Her car has no registration or warrant, but she doesn't care because the police will never catch her. She has un-named sources.
Michael has a few interesting things come up when you google him. He will be returning to Wellington free from STIs. His facial hair is alarmingly similar to Edward Norton in American History X.
Genevieve had a run-in with Sebastians mother a few days ago - she told Gen that she looked both 'stressed' and 'tired', Genevieve, meanwhile has made comments alluding to the want of a new dog.
Michaela has stopped hunting for a job in wellington due to the fact that it's going to be happening in Mot during summer.
Nairi is working at Up the Garden Path. She suggests you dont order the chowder if you dont want urine flavoured food.
Jasper is going to drive a car for the very first time ever today. He needs a haircut.
My sister Vanessa is moving into Chloes old house in two weeks. Hopefully the stale chloe smell is gone.
Googling my brother Dameks name comes up with a lot of weird fantasy shit.
Oh hey and for all the cool people going to be in mot over summer. Lets have a Kumara party, just like old times. And go skinny dipping!

Silence

2006-10-07T14:17:00.000+13:00

Lately I've had a fascination with silence.
Is it possible for someone with a functioning ear to ever hear complete silence? (Maybe 'hear silence' should read as 'not hear anything')
Composer, John Cage , who once spent time in a soundproof chamber, aiming to see if complete silence was obtainable, decided after hearing the internal noises of his own body, that complete silence is indeed impossible to obtain. (His avant-garde piece, 4'33" was made to present an awareness of the constant ambient sounds that are around us.)
Here is an article about hearing and sound, if you're interested.
I've also read several religious essays arguing that 'silence' could be the voice of God and some even go on to theorize that one could not survive such an experience. I'm not sure if I agree, but still, interesting.
A debate on the website allphilosophy came up with the following;

Silence

It is not possable to achieve total silence, for the hearing at any rate, if there is sufficient silence , it will be interupted by the sound of your heartbeat, and breathing.True silence would have to be even an absence of thought because though technicly you do not use your sense of hearing , you do hear your thoughts. If that could be accomplished, you would lack the intellect to know if you were hearing anything or not.

So, it's not possible and even if it was, we just wouldn't be smart enough to ever be zen enough to attain it? All the ways I can think of possibly creating a scenario where silence could be 'heard' (i.e. by removing the possibility of soundwaves travelling) would result in death (vaccuum, black-hole) so I guess maybe we're not meant to ever hear nothing? Would a person really die if they percieved that they weren't hearing a single sound? Maybe not, but in the act of percieving the silence they would negate it, hearing their own thought telling them to listen to the silence.
Or I don't know maybe you'd go crazy or something. It's a fascinating topic is all I'm trying to say.

What is up with that?!

2006-10-07T12:37:00.000+13:00

I've currently got a beef with City Gallery in Civic Square, Their sign outside states 'FREE ENTRY', 'Open Everyday.'
However, did you know they actually close to install new exhibits - sometimes for up to seven days?
Not only that, but their latest exhibits cost money ($7) to visit. I'm not very impressed, City Gallery. If I paid taxes, I'd make some sort of comment about my tax dollars going into the pockets of a few corporate fat cats and not into letting me into the gallery for free, but I don't pay taxes, I mooch. I also reserve the right to complain.
While on on the subject of things that bother me in civic square - what about that library, huh? I totally have a $25 fine there, becuase they charge you like $1 every day you're late and I had about 5 books late for 5 days. I just cant show my face there ever again or I'll get shot.

Logo

2006-10-07T11:56:00.000+13:00

Lets Begin

2006-10-06T23:22:00.000+13:00

Remember those listening comprehension tests from primary school?
I always used to ace those babies.