Saturday 31 March 2007


I love a busy house.

My brother David is here. There are three discussions going on at any given time, people asleep, people doing things, questions pending, things downloading. Everything is happening. The house is alive again. None of this silence or one conversation.

I love a busy house.

far too late to be writing

I spent a good four hours today convinced that this blog was terrible. More than that, I spent that time worrying that I had to get rid of it lest pain, humiliation and the like ensued. I even started the process of taking it down before I realised that was silly, and it'll all be fine - so it remains. Hopefully I won't hurt too many people with it...

I think that happened because I saw law girl and imagined what she'd think of me if she knew.

Speaking of what people would think of me if they knew, last night I ate five pieces of garlic bread (Dominos garlic bread, specifically) in a manner that earned me $10: all in the mouth at once, swallowed in under 35 chews. Thirty four, to be precise. Quite the useless feat.

Two things about tonight though. Firstly, David Hicks will serve seven years. Poor bastard has already done five. Now we just have to do something about the other two hundred and fifty people there.

The other thing: there was the first youth parliament taskforce meeting tonight. I got treasurer, unsurprisingly. I was thinking about going for convenor but... well, Pat wanted to do it and that's appropriate, and otherwise there wouldn't have been the right number of positions for people and this means there were no contested positions in a world first. So go us. I just want something that looks better than treasurer - or something that's not related to financial management. I can write press releases too, you know!

Also also, I think a first person shot, looking past my shirt and penis into a toilet bowl full of urine would be a great drugged-out shot for a movie. No really. I just felt so drugged and it was epitomising my just standing there, not doing anything. Which is what one does when one can't think of anything to do. I think it'd work anyway.

Wednesday 28 March 2007


Today in criminal law we were doing assault and we digressed, for a while, onto the crime of stalking (s 192 of the Tasmanian Criminal Code). The other important thing about criminal law today was that I was sitting next to crim girl (or law girl, as I am more comfortable calling her). Let's have a little history.

I first spotted this girl in our first criminal law tutorial. Which isn't really a valid assessment... I'd seen her before. But this was when I noticed her existence. I did so for two reasons. Firstly, she wasn't with anyone; she was sitting semi-alone. Secondly, she was smart. Still is smart, in fact, I assume. She knew answers to questions and stuff. I noticed her the next crim tute too; she stood outside waiting with the rest of us, not talking to anyone. I was doing the same. We were both eavesdropping on the same conversation, but from different sides of the room. Worse still, that conversation involved the only people in our tutorial to fail the compulsory assignment. They clearly failed dismally. *sigh*.

Anyway, so I've been vaguely noticing her when I see her. In the stalkerish way I do things before deciding to befriend someone - or rather, before actually managing to say hello to them. So, this morning, just prior to crim, I'd been sitting outside the law school feeling sorry for myself and unable to even go to the law cafe and purchase food because I was having a fairly substantial social anxiety attack. It happens sometimes. And today was the day she sat next to me in the lecture (primarily because she was last there of the group of three in which she sits, and the other two had taken the seats second from me and one from me, respectively). And of course I didn't actually speak to her or anything, but during the surprisingly extensive discussion of stalking, I did take notes, because I love irony just too much. Also because I was thinking about making her a character in a story, as I like to do, but I've decided against that.

Also, for clarity, I do know her first name at least. But crim girl is easier :P. Without further ado, my notes:

Crim girl:
- favourite colour: green (lime)
- mac person (&&ipod nano)
- two rings - paired silver
right ring
left middle
- silver watch
- earing in non-lobe (stud)
- jeans
- brown belt
- brown hair, eyes

Important addenda: she wears her hair in a single plait, it's about mid-back. I know her favourite colour is green because it's both the colour of her ipod and the colour of the tabs (i.e. customisable bits) on her computer bag. Her background was a pattern, rather than a photo, and the laptop was a 9-15 month old PowerBook (the type with the independent keys on the keyboard, with hard plastic between them - they're cool). Her tshirt was dark red and grey (or so) horizontal stripes. She wore a lighter grey jacket over it, but took it off once in the lecture theatre. The stud in her ear was simple silver, uncoloured. She has in the past worn some of her more favoured tshirts: oscar the grouch (well-worn, you can tell because it's that plasticy stuff that comes off eventually) and wonder woman. One of the Three is a girl from friends who I can't really remember. I would say Phoebe, but it's not. The ring on her right hand was crossed parallel on the top (like a strip of metal twisted by an amateur into a ring shape, it overlaps, but doesn't actually *cross*) and had a diamond (or more likely, zirconia) holding it together (but both parts of the strip were next to each other). The ring on her left hand was thinner in the body but had a two stones in it, larger, set in squares rotated pi / 4 (i.e. 45 degrees). One was dark purpleish, one was yellow, or something similar. Maybe red. They were substantially larger than the width of the ring itself, perhaps by a multiple of 2.5. They aligned on one side of each square, resulting in a similar overlapping pattern.

Her sense of humour was sufficient to laugh at John Blackwood's better jokes, but to ignore some of the worse ones. Eyerolling was appropriate. She was not a prolific note-taker, but benefited from using the unit outline side-by-side with the notes she was taking. Each lecture forms a different Microsoft Word for Mac 2003 document. She's not a computer nerd but knows how to use her computer effectively. She didn't talk with her friends during the lecture but did animatedly beforehand. She is studious but it's not because she has to be to pass, it's because she does well.

It's surprising how good my memory is sometimes. And also a little creepy.

Tuesday 27 March 2007

Pointy beard?

That which forms the title of this post was in my clipboard (i.e. had been copied). I have no idea from whence it came.

The prime purpose of a post at this late hour is to, firstly, tell you all to post comments (I like comments :D) and secondly, to transcribe some of my thoughts from earlier, written on a scrap of paper in the dark in the car. That transcription is the entire remainder of this post.

I yearn for simpler days when love was about holding hands. When courting was common. When "thou" was a word, the law was technical and you could drive just to drive without calculating your CO2 emissions or worrying about license restrictions. When cursive or calligraphy were the only styles.

Don't get me wrong, I love the modern world. I just want the old culture.


Saturday 24 March 2007


It's Saturday night and I've done nothing of the work that I have to do. I haven't even read the materials for the administrative law essay due Monday morning. Not to mention the websites, grant applications and other such things that need to be done. I'm falling behind, most definitely.

One of the things I enjoy doing while driving is putting my hand out the window and letting the air run through my fingers. Best enjoyed while listening to music (I also wouldn't mind tapping the side of my car to the beat but I'm inevitably out of time, unfortunately, so I don't). Today I saw someone else doing just that on the southern outlet. I was most exciting. Until I got closer. They were a child of maybe eight.

I need a life.


The whole point of this blog was so I could talk about things I don't admit to except while drunk. So while drunk, here's an admission. First, I cut my toenails today. I love cutting my toenails. I love it more than almost anything else in the whole world. Fingernail cutting just feels weird, but when I cut my toenails, it's so SATISFYING. Massive quantities of nail which take substantial force to remove can be ... removed. I let my toenails grow specifically so cutting them will be more fun. Freaky or what? Pretty freaky. That was actually my postsecret, that cutting my toenails was more satisfying than any orgasm I'd ever had. Possibly hyperbole, but I don't want to actually make a direct comparison, because I'm afraid of the answer. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. I was going to talk about pornography. See, I occasionally look at pornography. But it's very occasional and never satisfying (though I do like a good story with intrigue, good characters, plot development and the occasional bit o' sex). But I ... I just get bored with life. Massively bored. Like... I want to do something, something important, meaningful, interesting, fun, exciting. Something that's not administrative law or more fucking website coding. So I turn to something 'naughty' - pornography. And it bores me to and I'm not interested and I'm left in the same position as before but with guilt and a browser history to reinforce it [for clarity, I do know how to clear my browser history, so don't worry about that]. This is the state of my life, often. Trying to fill my lack-of-friends(-with-whom-I-spend-all-my-time) void with porn. Not a great idea, even for me.

I was thinking about disabling comments but fuckit.

(baileys + vodka).rating++

I always seem to get drunk at home these days. It's not good. But having to drive causes all sorts of problems.

And I'm not drunk enough to tell (girl) that (thing). So you see the trouble.

Also, admin assignment due monday. Bugger.

Also also, I wish I was a punk rock girl with flowers in my hair.

Thursday 22 March 2007

one crowded hour

For some reason I didn't like this song in the beginning. I was unconvinced.

I cannot imagine why.

Actually, yes I can. It seems too harsh to be saying what it should. But that's exactly the point.

of cliques

I'm part of a clique. I only realised this tonight but I'm part of what's really a very closed, very bitchy clique. And I hate it. I hate it for two reasons. Firstly, I'm reliant upon them - I couldn't possibly leave because I don't know anyone else. Secondly, they're precisely the sort of people I hated when I Was growing up. We're precisely that type. I'm part of a group that is exclusive and annoyed at everyone else and keeps people out and has a dominant set and a submissive set... I hate it. But I guess that's how life is.

In other news, if I die you have to tell everyone everything. So you people who know who I like, tell who I like. All that sort of thing. I was going to make a list but I'm tired and have to uncomfortably clear my debating-conscience while ignoring a more substantial issue I'm unable to even consider because I'm not close enough to the person in question. I'm absurd.

Wednesday 21 March 2007

fucking nikky

That's an exclamation, before the dirtier-minded of you get at the title...

Also, before we start, Hot Fuzz was fantastic. Like, astoundingly good. Go see it. Now.

When I was in Melbourne with Nikky, Gideon needed me. And she dragged me away from him because she didn't want me spending time with him, she wanted to spend time with me. But he couldn't say I needed him, and I knew that, and ... I just wanted to spend time with my brother. And fucking Nikky wouldn't let me. Well, fuck her - and unfortunately, fuck everyone in the future too. Gideon comes first. Always.

I can remember now when I knew Nikky wasn't the one for me. It was at Youth Parliament, at what's known as the FOF. The FOF, or Fire of Friendship, for those not in the know, is a campfire at the end of the week where everyone shares experiences. It becomes, inevitably, quite emotional. I take full advantage of that and cry my eyes out. It's good to do that once a year or so. I knew because crying my eyes out, I didn't want to be around her. I wanted ... I don't know. Someone else.

The FOF raises another interesting point, this time about Pat (the subject of the dream, but let's not mention that, shall we? Though I guess he's the only close-to-close male friend I have since Tully, about whom I also once had a kiss dream... very curious...). At the FOF Pat and I always say "we'll talk later", fully intending it. And we never do. I'm sure there are entire equivalence classes* of people who do this. Astounding.

* An equivalence class is a special set which is equivalent under a specific type of function. I've clearly been doing too much maths.**

** I'm reminded here of a bumper sticker I thought would be funny: 0 - 100 asymptotically. God I'm sad.***

*** I wish I were drunk. Or drinking. I need a good excuse to sometime.

Monday 19 March 2007

my own little insanity

I slept for thirteen hours last night, possibly more. I went to bed at sixish with a migraine and woke up naturally at seven thirty. I had a strange dream. In said dream I was living in the same house as everyone mentioned (of course) and they had to go through my room to get anywhere (of course). I had just dumped Nikky. I became friendly with another girl (named, but not who you - or I - would think) and we lay together in my bed, clothed and hugged and kissed a little bit and then Nikky came in and got really, really angry and girl got angry at me for taking advantage of her and it was horrible. So then time passed and I found myself back in my bed but this time with girl's boyfriend (also someone I know) and kissing him. And then the dream turned into something else.

This dream has a curious meaning. Either I desperately want to be near to girl, however I can be; or I'm actually gay and don't know it; or I'm discovering my bisexuality; or I feel unable to even think about going out with someone else because it'd annoy Nikky, unless I was gay; or it's just a weird dream and I shouldn't eat so much raw MSG. Who knows.

In other news, it's occurred to me how puerile (is that how you spell it? immature anyway) this blog and my life are. Secret codes and little clubs all to talk about who I like. It's very grade three. Or six or seven or whatever. It's surely not what twenty-odd-year-olds do with their time. It's not like it's fun. It's just childish. Reading PostSecrets and keeping two diaries and encrypting messages. Being jealous of others for no apparent reason.

Here's a secret: I still feel all weird and look away when people kiss in movies. I mean, Jesus, I should be over that at least by now. That I've actually done that and more with another person is something that freaks me out a little bit. But how insane is that? Is this a fear of intimacy? Well, it's not a fear. It's just... I don't know what it is. It's me being weird.

Sunday 18 March 2007


Is it criminal to love not someone but the idea of them? Is it worse than criminal, unproductive? And when do I next get to drink excessively? Or not even excessively... I'd just like to drink at all. Interestingly, if you place your right hand one key to the right, "just" becomes "kist". Just something I noticed, while wishing I was kist more often ;). Man I'm funny.

In other news, oh my god check out this. No, really. More disturbingly, I'd already thought of this when I was in grade eight. Even more disturbingly, so did Paul R. Packer in 1975 (and David Bartlett in 1956 and Edyth Lacy in 1918).

Thursday 15 March 2007

i traditionally spend more time looking for a blog title than writing the entry

I'd like to talk about a few things. Firstly, while listening, and I mean really listening to Landed (Ben Folds) this morning in the car I decided that I will not have any more girlfriend angst. Things will happen or they won't and there's plenty of time and it's all fine. So no more of that angst. I reserve the right to have other angst and bouts of relapsing.

Secondly, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed today confessed to 29 separate illegal acts, including planning the September 11 bombings, the Bali bombings, the 1993 World Trade Centre bombings, bombing the Empire State Building, several US embassy bombings, the Richard Reid shoe bombing, assassination attempts on George W Bush, George H W Bush, Bill Clinton, Jed Bartlett and Pope John Paul II. He also confessed to planning bombings of Big Ben, Heathrow Airport, killing Daniel Pearl, kidnapping the Lindburgh baby, hiding Lord Lukin and killing John F Kennedy, despite not being born at the time. The only things on that list I made up were the last three (and plotting to kill Jed Bartlett, clearly). This guy has confessed to everything under the sun, having been held at Guantanamo Bay for the past year, with the two years before that spent in secret CIA detention - in a "safe but secure location", one can only presume. People only confess to everything for one of two reasons: they are taking one for the team, or they have been tortured, threatened and mentally destroyed to the point where they will sign anything you put in front of them. I have my bets on which. What perhaps disgusts me most (though really it doesn't disgust me as much as the horror they've put this guy through - beyond what he deserves even if he did all that stuff) is that they are promoting this as a big victory. Clearly he masterminded everything and now they've got him for it. And they'll kill him for it.

Let's move on though. Let's talk about a question that occurred to me. Does it matter who you kiss if you kiss someone, in terms of cheating? This occurs because I've been watching too much West Wing (and also probably too much Clerks II). Like, if you kiss someone but have no intentions towards them, is that any less cheating than kissing someone with intent? I'm curious.

Next thing is that Angie has been talking about moving out. That makes me feel like I should move out. I can't afford it now but could if I tried. Perhaps I should? I almost certainly should. Hmmm. We'll see.

Finally, think about what you're doing right now. You're reading this blog on the internet. Now think about just how much work went into making this work. Start with agriculture and move on. That is truly astounding to me, the amount that was required directly - not counting water or public transport or any of that - just to make me complaining to the whole world so easy. Astounding.

Wednesday 14 March 2007

flip flop

I was told the other day that I always want what I don't have - to not go out with Nikky when I was; a girlfriend when I'm not. No. I always want the same thing. Nikky just wasn't giving it to me.

Sunday 11 March 2007


Two songs come to mind:

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (The Smiths)
[the appropriate line is: please please please let me get what I want; it would be the first time]
How Soon Is Now (The Smiths)
[the appropriate line is: so you go and you stand on your own, and you leave on your own, and you go home, and you cry and you want to die]

I really want to know what I'm missing. I can make friends without any trouble. I have lots of friends, lots of close friends, lots of female friends. None of them want to hold my hand and go for walks. Except Nikky, but I'm not talking about her. I'm talking about VT52nKM5DvOkLJ4toUSkoybt and people like that. *sigh*.

I want you to help me. Yes you. Email me and tell me what I'm doing wrong or what I should do. Hell, just what I'd have to do to get you to hold my hand (in a girlfriend way).

Maybe I'm gay? Doesn't seem reasonable though, given how guys are quite so repugnant to me...

Friday 9 March 2007


I want a girlfriend. I don't want sex, or kissing, or anything like that. What I want is a girlfriend. Someone I can walk around with holding hands. And someone I can talk to all the time about everything. Maybe a little kiss one day or another, but really it's mostly about holding hands. Listening to songs like Kiss Me (Sixpence None The Richer) or One Crowded Hour (Augie March). Acting out Kiss Me maybe. This isn't what I had with Nikky. But it's all that I want. Something simple and innocent. That's all.

Clearly, I'm on my way down. I knew this.

normally distributed?

I won poker again this evening. Only $25 winnings, but there was the initial bet plus the cash game plus petrol, so I'm only up about $6 on the evening. Even so, that's pretty good - to be paid $6 for a night out with friends.

Now, on a completely different note, I was wondering this evening, what do you think it's like to defecate as a horse? Or indeed any of those quadrupeds who defecate while walking. Because it's a different shape, I imagine a different texture, different muscle use. I wonder how it would feel, and how different to defecating as a human.

I wonder all sorts of things. Like about when women begin relationships relative to their position in the menstrual cycle. And any correlation that would have with hormone levels, age, personality type, IQ, EQ, socio-economic status and anything else that one can measure. You'd do a whole analysis measuring proportion of relationships from all relationships started in the past five years. You might also look at longevity, what constitutes the "start" of a relationship, whether there's any time correlation with first kisses or anything else. I think that could be really interesting. You could make similar comparisons with men but you couldn't use position in menstrual cycle. You could use hormone levels though.

I'm particularly curios to see if there's a difference as age increases, and also a generational difference - i.e., measuring seventeen year olds this year, how do they compare to seventeen year olds in ten years time? How as twenty-seven-year-olds will they compare to themselves at seventeen and how about contemporary seventeen year olds? All these fascinating questions. You might also look at drug use as an independent variable. Another possible dependant variable might be loss of virginity. You might consider promiscuity (or relative promiscuity) as an independent variable. There are all sorts of interesting questions. All I need is a psychology PhD and a research grant...

Monday 5 March 2007


Yesterday our Futures meeting ended up at Hudsons.

There are a few things to note. Firstly, there was a power point that was on. So I turned it off. I do that always, as a tribute to Jules. It's good. It reminds me of when she used to live in this state. I get to remember good times, turning off power points in every room in the state.

The other thing about Hudsons itself is that I had a hot chocolate. I like hot chocolate. What I love most about hot chocolate is the "ahhh" as you enjoy it, after a sip, and the hot air comes out and warms my lips. I love that. It's one of those simple pleasures in life people talk about. It's truly a pleasure.

I also spoke to Maddy a lot. I enjoy that. I knew I would.

Sunday 4 March 2007


Television seems to fluctuate between good and bad very quickly. I watched What About Brian, which contained a fantastic short speech:

Girl: You know what was the best part of our marriage? My favourite part? When we only had $20 left and it was our three year anniversary. And you didn't have a coupon or anything and you called for a pizza with eight toppings, plus cheesy bread. And when the guy delivered it you handed over the $20 and told him to keep the change. I love that.

That's beautiful, I think. What made it even better was the next line.

Guy: It probably helped that we were baked off our heads.

They then went into "cheaters" - an exposé of cheating spouses and the fights that follow. It astounds me how they do that.

Saturday 3 March 2007

vodka! yay!

I like being drunk. I like how I feel, how I can talk, how free I am. I like how other people treat me. I think I'll drink more. If only I didn't have to drive so much...

Thursday 1 March 2007

two things

The first thing is about Gideon. He's really in love with Bonnie. He has no idea how to handle the situation, how to show his love, but he knows what he feels. Ironic, because I like to think I know a bit better how to handle that, but I never have any idea about how I feel. Between the two of us we could make one half-way decent man.

The second thing is just a long list of times I've come second. There was Talking Up Science. There was state debating. National Youth Roundtable. National Youth Parliament. Contract law. Lots of other things I've forgotten.

I'm just feeling shitty. Sorry.