As far back as i can remember, christmas has included a trip to the opera house. A mango all for myself. A Darell lea christmas pudding.
more recently, it has included sleeping on my mothers sofa.
for many many years there has been a lunch that starts with smoked salmon and ends with the most decadent desserts!
So many little things make up christmas to me. the smell of pine is a must. Jacaranda trees, gardenias.
finding that perfect little gift, nothing big or flashy, but special to the person receiving it. sometimes even a pair of undies will fit the bill...
I hope you have all the things that mean christmas to you.
that is all.
20101215
???
so, when someone tells you they don't want a hug because they have been crying for about 5 hours, and hugging you would just mean more crying, do you feel good or bad? when the same person thanks you for imaginary hugs, because that's all they are brave enough to face, do you feel good or bad? do i feel bad that she cried alone for 5 hours when she could have called me for that hug? do i feel good that my hugs are a safe enough place that she feels she can cry there?
it's hard, and it leaves me feeling neither good or bad. closer to impotent, and un-useful (which is different to to useless).
that is all...
it's hard, and it leaves me feeling neither good or bad. closer to impotent, and un-useful (which is different to to useless).
that is all...
20101115
"what have i done so far"
everyone loves a list. or if not everyone, then me. i love a list. today i read a list that i want to replicate.
What have i done so far.
i am not going to write this list right now (it's after 11pm, and i have to be on a train in 5 hours. now is not the time to write a good list). i will come back to this over the next few days, in and out, and make a list of things i have done. the point of this list is to remind myself on the days i am not so confident that i have done some amazing things since leaving high school.
______________________________________________________
\
ok, so it's been a good number of days since i started htis. right now i am exhausted. i've barley been home since 5am tuesday (now 6pm friday) i can't think... i might get back to this one day.
Also, i am apparently merciless, in the best possible way!
What have i done so far.
i am not going to write this list right now (it's after 11pm, and i have to be on a train in 5 hours. now is not the time to write a good list). i will come back to this over the next few days, in and out, and make a list of things i have done. the point of this list is to remind myself on the days i am not so confident that i have done some amazing things since leaving high school.
______________________________________________________
\
ok, so it's been a good number of days since i started htis. right now i am exhausted. i've barley been home since 5am tuesday (now 6pm friday) i can't think... i might get back to this one day.
Also, i am apparently merciless, in the best possible way!
20101022
20101006
me
i wanted to write my story. an ordinary girl living in a small big city. nothing special about me, except maybe that i have a good brain that i don't use. i don't have any amazing hidden skills and talents, i have a cat who likes to sit on my keyboard, but apart from that, i'm just like so many other people in this small big city. i was born in the suburbs, and raised by my mother. i never wanted for anything, and it wasn't until much later in life that i looked back on my childhood and realised that we were - i don't know, maybe not poor, but definitely a low income family. i went to the local public school, joined the local brownie pack, did a selection of all the usual sports growing up, with a liberal helping of dance, but i never really excelled at any of it. i was proficient, and i had fun, but i wasn't ever going to be a super star. i played piano, and i sing, and i played cello. again, i enjoy doing it, but i am never going to be a super star. i went to a public selective high school where i under performed to the best of my abilities, and basically failed high school (remember what i said about not using that brain?). since then i have worked and traveled, enjoyed my life, and not enjoyed some parts of it. i've been a home owner, and i've been a pet owner. i had boyfriends growing up, and girlfriends now i've grown up. i'm like so many other people out there.
but i have had some amazing experiences, and i know some truly amazing people. and i'm a good person. mostly.
being an ordinary person, and having an ordinary life, isn't a bad thing and doesn;t have to be boring. i love it. and i wouldn't change my life for the world.
that is all.
but i have had some amazing experiences, and i know some truly amazing people. and i'm a good person. mostly.
being an ordinary person, and having an ordinary life, isn't a bad thing and doesn;t have to be boring. i love it. and i wouldn't change my life for the world.
that is all.
20101001
20100921
language and perception...
read this. if you wanna. if not, let me paraphrase. (but really it's an interesting read....)
the language we speak apparently effects our perception of events. in english, if i was to knock a mug off a table, whether accidentally or not you'd say "trip broke the mug" and you would remember that it was me. if you are a native spanish speaker you would say "the cup broke" and probably not remember that i had any input at all. Indonesian speakers would look at three sequential pictures of a man kicking a soccer ball and say for all of them "the man kick the ball", and not really notice that the three pics are different...
now, with that as back ground knowledge. we have attitude patches at work. lots of them. i tend to wear the one that says single. we are meant to wear two, sometimes i wear two that say single... the store owner came in today and gave me "flirtatious" to wear with my single... hours later a guy came in and noted the "flirtatious" and made a comment. the other manager told me he was totally flirting with me. i hadn't even noticed. i'm gay, i don't notice if guys flirt with me. if he'd been a girl i might have.... quite probably.
made me think though. is language the only thing that impacts what we perceive.
that is all.
the language we speak apparently effects our perception of events. in english, if i was to knock a mug off a table, whether accidentally or not you'd say "trip broke the mug" and you would remember that it was me. if you are a native spanish speaker you would say "the cup broke" and probably not remember that i had any input at all. Indonesian speakers would look at three sequential pictures of a man kicking a soccer ball and say for all of them "the man kick the ball", and not really notice that the three pics are different...
now, with that as back ground knowledge. we have attitude patches at work. lots of them. i tend to wear the one that says single. we are meant to wear two, sometimes i wear two that say single... the store owner came in today and gave me "flirtatious" to wear with my single... hours later a guy came in and noted the "flirtatious" and made a comment. the other manager told me he was totally flirting with me. i hadn't even noticed. i'm gay, i don't notice if guys flirt with me. if he'd been a girl i might have.... quite probably.
made me think though. is language the only thing that impacts what we perceive.
that is all.
the world is unfair in my favour
and yet i still think it's unfair. i got a really good mark in my final assignment. really. SOOOO much better than i thought i would. it was apparently my best work.
now here is my problem. i don't think i earned the mark i got. i did some work, but i'm sure there were people in the class who worked WAY harder than me. i have a brain, it obviously works well. i went to a selective high school and we were all marked at a very high standard, as you would expect when you are in a school that is apparently made up of the top 2% of the state brain wise... to do well in that environment you really had to work hard.
now i am being marked in, what i will term, a very comprehensive fashion. against a class that fits the societal average brain wise.
and it's freaking me out because i don't feel like i have earned the mark i got. seriously, i was almost not going to hand anything in because i felt i had really flunked it. it was a bad week, my heart wasn't in it. i considered putting in a request for compassionate consideration.
but i handed it in, and got a high distinction which i will not be complaining about.
but it still feels unfair, even if it is in my favour...
that is all.
now here is my problem. i don't think i earned the mark i got. i did some work, but i'm sure there were people in the class who worked WAY harder than me. i have a brain, it obviously works well. i went to a selective high school and we were all marked at a very high standard, as you would expect when you are in a school that is apparently made up of the top 2% of the state brain wise... to do well in that environment you really had to work hard.
now i am being marked in, what i will term, a very comprehensive fashion. against a class that fits the societal average brain wise.
and it's freaking me out because i don't feel like i have earned the mark i got. seriously, i was almost not going to hand anything in because i felt i had really flunked it. it was a bad week, my heart wasn't in it. i considered putting in a request for compassionate consideration.
but i handed it in, and got a high distinction which i will not be complaining about.
but it still feels unfair, even if it is in my favour...
that is all.
20100917
24 hours with trip...
11:30pm wednesday. get off the phone.
get distracted by youtube videos of Megan Washington
sleep for about 3 and a half hours.
wake to the alarm at 4:45am.
start work at 6am.
have a perfectly lovely, if a little weird, day at work.
be tired enough to read "it's just me. hold on." as "just hold me."
head home and strip the bed. be aware the cat is doing his usual psychotic reaction to the sheets being changed.
stop making the bed between stripping and re-sheeting.
take a phone call.
get attacked by the cat. 2 major scratches, three lesser scratches, half an arm of small scratches and punctures.
yes the cat is still nuttz, even when medicated..
run out of time for a nap...
grab a slice of garlic bread and a choc croissant for dinner... at 6pm.
choir rehearsal. again good, but odd.
almost fall asleep at choir whilst scratching the back of the guy next to me.
go to work for a hot choc after choir with the gang.
end up working for a few mins coz we are a big group and it's really helpful to have an extra set of hands.
when leaving the cafe, miss he last step and fall to your knees, skinning the heels of both hands whilst ur at it...
drive home, listening to more Washington.
i am exhausted, it's now 12:20.
i will wake up sore tomorrow...
that is all.
get distracted by youtube videos of Megan Washington
sleep for about 3 and a half hours.
wake to the alarm at 4:45am.
start work at 6am.
have a perfectly lovely, if a little weird, day at work.
be tired enough to read "it's just me. hold on." as "just hold me."
head home and strip the bed. be aware the cat is doing his usual psychotic reaction to the sheets being changed.
stop making the bed between stripping and re-sheeting.
take a phone call.
get attacked by the cat. 2 major scratches, three lesser scratches, half an arm of small scratches and punctures.
yes the cat is still nuttz, even when medicated..
run out of time for a nap...
grab a slice of garlic bread and a choc croissant for dinner... at 6pm.
choir rehearsal. again good, but odd.
almost fall asleep at choir whilst scratching the back of the guy next to me.
go to work for a hot choc after choir with the gang.
end up working for a few mins coz we are a big group and it's really helpful to have an extra set of hands.
when leaving the cafe, miss he last step and fall to your knees, skinning the heels of both hands whilst ur at it...
drive home, listening to more Washington.
i am exhausted, it's now 12:20.
i will wake up sore tomorrow...
that is all.
20100812
mornings...
The sounds of the morning are few, and all hidden under the wind, and the sound of my own breathing after a half walk/half run to the station because my hot shower was just too good to get out of. There is a rooster crowing, though how he knows the sun is coming is beyond me, as my eyes see not even the slightest hint of colour in the east. There is a dog barking, probably in response to the crowing, but i'm sure the neighbours would prefer that canine alarm clock went off a little later.
I listen to the rustle of leaves between the time markings of the animals, and think i hear my train in the distance. I'm not sure if i believe my ears, and start to tie my shoe laces, but the noise swells and my eyes confirm that i need to work a little faster on those laces, which are so easy to control when there is no cat attached to one end.
The train arrives, and it smells like morning. A sickly sweet soapy smell that reminds me this is one of the first trains of the day, and as such, it has come directly from the yards, and still smells of the cleaning products of large institutions, and that the few small puddles are left over from a rushed mopping job, rather than a spilt drink or the too many wet feet and umbrellas of the past days.
As i sit down it's time to change my soundtrack (what did that announcement just say? Surely it must have been 'dulwich hill'). Head phones in, and the squeak of carriage coupling is muffled already. Expert thumbs on a touch screen and Anya Marina starts singing to me. The next announcement is clearly marrickville (clearly?) but it is only half heard over the subversive lyrics of a singer whose age is apparently a state secret (maybe 29 at the time of recording this song, an educated guess).
The doors open and it must be redfern. I didn't hear (or understand) the guard, and i can see no sign, but there are more platforms but less ceilings than other stations on this line. The train (still sickly sweet, how much longer till i can breath stale air?) pulls away, and the sign that says redfern glides past (2 more stations, just breath shallow for 2 more stations).
Platforms as far as i can see means we're now at Central, my fellow morning life forms and i, half awake, barely functioning as humans, heads bowed, eyes open, but blank stares at nothing show the time more clearly than any clock can. The sun is not up as the train enters the tunnel that indicates i'll soon be able to breath more easily.
Ah, the fresh? air of an underground station, cleaner than a new york subway station, but not as fresh as what i am walking towards. Not as cold either.
Through the ticket gate with experienced fingers in charge of my ticket, my exit, working on a subconscious level, because cognitive function hasn't made it that far yet.
23 mins to make a 10 min walk uphill. Slower now than my early morning trot as i have the luxury of excess minutes on my side, and still no hint of sunrise.
One hand employed to tuck in my singlet, the other to pull up my hood. I'm glad of the memories wrapped around me, keeping me warm against that wind pushing me towards work (caffeine calling me). The memory of italy in a north face jacket, bought by my sister to ward off an italian winter more bitter and biting than this winter morning could ever hope to be. The scarf made of a fine black knit material, as soft and lovely as your favourite t-shirt, now holding the memory of being wrapped around my neck by a beautiful woman, whose name is all i know, yet.
Still standing still, waiting for the lights to change in my favour (surely i'm not so focused (half asleep) as to have missed the tell tale beep of the crossing letting me know it's my turn?). The van pulling off before the lights have changed, knowing the pattern so well that his light is green before he enters the intersection.
And i am sick of standing still with this cold hand tapping my back, looking for little ways to get in and give me a chill, so i cross against the lights, asking my brain to engage long enough to get me to the other side without mishap.
Up the hill, past the bakery (open for hours already), the pubs(just closing) and the coffee shops (just opening - i still have 10 mins).
Still no hint of the sun (where is it hiding today?) as i face the last two blocks, the blocks that encourage me to keep my head down and keep walking as harmless drunk homeless people ask me for change that i can't afford to spare today. Past the newsagent that i have to come back to soon, and to the final set of lights. The last open pub at my back, and the first, faintest, lightening of the sky.
My working day begins.
I listen to the rustle of leaves between the time markings of the animals, and think i hear my train in the distance. I'm not sure if i believe my ears, and start to tie my shoe laces, but the noise swells and my eyes confirm that i need to work a little faster on those laces, which are so easy to control when there is no cat attached to one end.
The train arrives, and it smells like morning. A sickly sweet soapy smell that reminds me this is one of the first trains of the day, and as such, it has come directly from the yards, and still smells of the cleaning products of large institutions, and that the few small puddles are left over from a rushed mopping job, rather than a spilt drink or the too many wet feet and umbrellas of the past days.
As i sit down it's time to change my soundtrack (what did that announcement just say? Surely it must have been 'dulwich hill'). Head phones in, and the squeak of carriage coupling is muffled already. Expert thumbs on a touch screen and Anya Marina starts singing to me. The next announcement is clearly marrickville (clearly?) but it is only half heard over the subversive lyrics of a singer whose age is apparently a state secret (maybe 29 at the time of recording this song, an educated guess).
The doors open and it must be redfern. I didn't hear (or understand) the guard, and i can see no sign, but there are more platforms but less ceilings than other stations on this line. The train (still sickly sweet, how much longer till i can breath stale air?) pulls away, and the sign that says redfern glides past (2 more stations, just breath shallow for 2 more stations).
Platforms as far as i can see means we're now at Central, my fellow morning life forms and i, half awake, barely functioning as humans, heads bowed, eyes open, but blank stares at nothing show the time more clearly than any clock can. The sun is not up as the train enters the tunnel that indicates i'll soon be able to breath more easily.
Ah, the fresh? air of an underground station, cleaner than a new york subway station, but not as fresh as what i am walking towards. Not as cold either.
Through the ticket gate with experienced fingers in charge of my ticket, my exit, working on a subconscious level, because cognitive function hasn't made it that far yet.
23 mins to make a 10 min walk uphill. Slower now than my early morning trot as i have the luxury of excess minutes on my side, and still no hint of sunrise.
One hand employed to tuck in my singlet, the other to pull up my hood. I'm glad of the memories wrapped around me, keeping me warm against that wind pushing me towards work (caffeine calling me). The memory of italy in a north face jacket, bought by my sister to ward off an italian winter more bitter and biting than this winter morning could ever hope to be. The scarf made of a fine black knit material, as soft and lovely as your favourite t-shirt, now holding the memory of being wrapped around my neck by a beautiful woman, whose name is all i know, yet.
Still standing still, waiting for the lights to change in my favour (surely i'm not so focused (half asleep) as to have missed the tell tale beep of the crossing letting me know it's my turn?). The van pulling off before the lights have changed, knowing the pattern so well that his light is green before he enters the intersection.
And i am sick of standing still with this cold hand tapping my back, looking for little ways to get in and give me a chill, so i cross against the lights, asking my brain to engage long enough to get me to the other side without mishap.
Up the hill, past the bakery (open for hours already), the pubs(just closing) and the coffee shops (just opening - i still have 10 mins).
Still no hint of the sun (where is it hiding today?) as i face the last two blocks, the blocks that encourage me to keep my head down and keep walking as harmless drunk homeless people ask me for change that i can't afford to spare today. Past the newsagent that i have to come back to soon, and to the final set of lights. The last open pub at my back, and the first, faintest, lightening of the sky.
My working day begins.
20100811
cigarettes and arrogant french girls
are things i shouldn't have - but for some reason they are both things that i kinda want...
I've had so much to write recently that i've written nothing. about the girl who nobody likes at first, but once you get to know her she's fine. about being single when you're sad and the poetry that comes with it - incomplete, forever. about the really sad book i am reading - that i have to read - that is so beautifully written that i want to read it. and also about the fact that the time that these things have chosen to be written about is the middle of my work day - day 4/8 and one of 11 shifts in 12 days.
So, here i sit, scribbling on paper far too small to contain all these big things, wanting a cigarette, and wondering what it was about that slightly arrogant french girl that got me wound up...
there's no-one to hold you now.
Beloved, by Toni Morrison. read it. but maybe read it when the sun is shining in your life, coz it's a tough read. and if you know nothing about the history of slavery in America i believe it would be even tougher... I have to read it for class, but i'm glad to have discovered it, because it is brilliant - but its affecting me... it's not helping me be happy...
and now it seems
that is all...
I've had so much to write recently that i've written nothing. about the girl who nobody likes at first, but once you get to know her she's fine. about being single when you're sad and the poetry that comes with it - incomplete, forever. about the really sad book i am reading - that i have to read - that is so beautifully written that i want to read it. and also about the fact that the time that these things have chosen to be written about is the middle of my work day - day 4/8 and one of 11 shifts in 12 days.
So, here i sit, scribbling on paper far too small to contain all these big things, wanting a cigarette, and wondering what it was about that slightly arrogant french girl that got me wound up...
The boss here, has a reputation... I knew her when we were both in our early teens, she is a yr or two older than me. Not much now, but enough then. She was just generally superior to me in the way she acted, but never outright mean, and i didn't hate her. Now, people who meet her think she is not nice, but everyone who has worked with her or known her for a few months always says, you just have to get used to her. And it is so true. But it got me to thinking, would i really want to be the girl that you "just have to get to know" to like???
as i drove to work last weekend, watching the road through tears, i was thinking it was times like these that i miss having a partner. someone to hold me while i cry. and these four lines of poetry came. i will post them here, rather than over with the rest of my poetry as it is very short, and will never be more than these 4 lines...
Dry your eyes baby girl,
no-one's coming for to help you
wipe your tears on your own sleeve
there's no-one to hold you now.
Beloved, by Toni Morrison. read it. but maybe read it when the sun is shining in your life, coz it's a tough read. and if you know nothing about the history of slavery in America i believe it would be even tougher... I have to read it for class, but i'm glad to have discovered it, because it is brilliant - but its affecting me... it's not helping me be happy...
and now it seems
that is all...
20100728
meh
i hate meh. it sucks. then after the meh creeps in the paranoia. which sucks even more.
That is all.
That is all.
20100724
so, the bible says you can't be gay...
In her radio show, Dr. Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance.
The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, penned by a U.S. resident, which was posted on the Internet.
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law.
I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that
knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to
defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them
that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End
of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other
elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and
female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A
friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not
Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in
Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a
fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in
her period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem
is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it
creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my
neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I
smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus
35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally
obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than
homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there
'degrees' of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I
have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading
glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some
wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the
hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden
by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig
makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two
different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing
garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester
blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really
necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town
together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to
death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep
with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy
considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can
help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and
unchanging.
Your adoring fan.
James M. Kauffman,
Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia
(It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian :)
The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, penned by a U.S. resident, which was posted on the Internet.
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law.
I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that
knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to
defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them
that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End
of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other
elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and
female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A
friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not
Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in
Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a
fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in
her period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem
is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it
creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my
neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I
smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus
35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally
obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than
homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there
'degrees' of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I
have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading
glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some
wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the
hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden
by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig
makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two
different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing
garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester
blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really
necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town
together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to
death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep
with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy
considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can
help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and
unchanging.
Your adoring fan.
James M. Kauffman,
Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia
(It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian :)
20100723
i think this is why
i have always hated studying english literature. I love words, and i love books. i particularly love poetry, with it's rhythms and melodies and imagery.
I love T.S.Eliot. i used his works as the basis of art works in high school, specifically Rhapsody on a Windy Night.
right now he is hurting me.
I am struggling to write an essay about "the fragmentation and failure of identity in the modern city", in reference to the work of T.S. Eliot. i "get" his work, i understand what he is saying to me, but i understand it in imagery and art work, not fragmentation and failure of identity. and it was pointed out to me tonight that my biggest issue/block with this is that i don;t want to face my own identity or lack there of. and that is true and correct. I am fairly aware of the fact that there are things in my life that i "handle" that i should probably go and deal with. do i have a sense of abandonment that means i fear commitment? or am i just using that as an excuse to make myself feel better about being the dumpER, rather than the dumpEE. have those two nights of drunken misadventure as a teen had a bigger and deeper impact on my life than i recognise. i don;t know, and i am scared to find out. i am scared to discuss these issues with anyone who may be able to give me the answers. scared to find out the truth. I handle my emotions, my possible (but mostly undiagnosed) depression. I have a good strong brain that makes me get through the days, and i feel both the highs and lows of emotion, but not in a manic way. but am i just handling something that i really should be dealing with? would my life be that much different if i went to see a professional about this and discovered that, yes, i do have issues that need to be brought up and discussed, and put to bed. or maybe i have no issues and i am just a psychiatric hypochondriac.
But i'm scared to find out.
that is all.
I love T.S.Eliot. i used his works as the basis of art works in high school, specifically Rhapsody on a Windy Night.
right now he is hurting me.
I am struggling to write an essay about "the fragmentation and failure of identity in the modern city", in reference to the work of T.S. Eliot. i "get" his work, i understand what he is saying to me, but i understand it in imagery and art work, not fragmentation and failure of identity. and it was pointed out to me tonight that my biggest issue/block with this is that i don;t want to face my own identity or lack there of. and that is true and correct. I am fairly aware of the fact that there are things in my life that i "handle" that i should probably go and deal with. do i have a sense of abandonment that means i fear commitment? or am i just using that as an excuse to make myself feel better about being the dumpER, rather than the dumpEE. have those two nights of drunken misadventure as a teen had a bigger and deeper impact on my life than i recognise. i don;t know, and i am scared to find out. i am scared to discuss these issues with anyone who may be able to give me the answers. scared to find out the truth. I handle my emotions, my possible (but mostly undiagnosed) depression. I have a good strong brain that makes me get through the days, and i feel both the highs and lows of emotion, but not in a manic way. but am i just handling something that i really should be dealing with? would my life be that much different if i went to see a professional about this and discovered that, yes, i do have issues that need to be brought up and discussed, and put to bed. or maybe i have no issues and i am just a psychiatric hypochondriac.
But i'm scared to find out.
that is all.
20100629
who's right?
i have two jobs. one is in a costume hire store, one is in a cafe. i have been working (officially) in the costume store for about 6 weeks, but unofficially for 6 months. the boss knows i have been doing some work, but is unaware of exactly how much (he thinks maybe a day every week or two, truth is closer to a day or two every week). for the next three mondays i am going to be working with the CH store manager, shadowing, then being shadowed to make sure i know what i am doing. i have been working independently and successfully for ages, and in my "training" period with him i have proved that i can do everything he has asked of me, with skill and accuracy. I have proved myself as a competent worker, and yet he continues to treat me as a trainee who must be supervised.
I have been working at the cafe for less than 2 weeks. a grand total of 6 shifts now. last week i was offered the chance to do my certificate 3 in hospitality through them - they pay for me to do the course. this was after 3 shifts. i accepted and today we sat and talked about what it would mean. permanent part time, which means guaranteed hours, holiday pay, sick leave... a qualification i can take with me if/when i decide to move on. a near future promotion to shift supervisor with a view to part time manager by the end of the year.
so. who is right? am i an incompetent noob who has to be watched, or am i a fast learning hard worker worth keeping and training for bigger and better things??? i know which one i am...
that is all.
I have been working at the cafe for less than 2 weeks. a grand total of 6 shifts now. last week i was offered the chance to do my certificate 3 in hospitality through them - they pay for me to do the course. this was after 3 shifts. i accepted and today we sat and talked about what it would mean. permanent part time, which means guaranteed hours, holiday pay, sick leave... a qualification i can take with me if/when i decide to move on. a near future promotion to shift supervisor with a view to part time manager by the end of the year.
so. who is right? am i an incompetent noob who has to be watched, or am i a fast learning hard worker worth keeping and training for bigger and better things??? i know which one i am...
that is all.
20100627
4 people
there are 4 people i talk to pretty much every day, in one form or another, and my day doesn't feel complete if i don't talk to them. by talk i mean on the phone, in person, by text, or somewhere online, email, twitter, facebook, skype, a chat room, or a ship. the thing about these 4 people is, only one lives in the same area as me, only 2 of them in the same country, and only three in the same hemisphere. yes, i have a friend in america, whom i speak to every day pretty much, and the days we don't actually chat, there is generally some small form of contact, but it just doesn't feel the same. chatting with these people has become integral to my day. i tell these friends that i miss them when i don't see them. i very rarely actually see them in person, except for the one local, who if i don't see twice a week, i feel like i am missing out.
I count myself as so lucky to have these 4 friends, not luckier to have them than my other friends, but these four stand out as part of my day. and i know i fit the same category in their lives.
thank you for being my friends.
that is all
I count myself as so lucky to have these 4 friends, not luckier to have them than my other friends, but these four stand out as part of my day. and i know i fit the same category in their lives.
thank you for being my friends.
that is all
20100626
you will one day...
i smoke. sometimes i don't. most people are surprised when they see me smoking for the first time, especially if they've known me for a few years... i'm what you'd call an anti-social smoker. i tend not to smoke around other people. You can't smoke in pubs and clubs here anymore, so it's not like i go out and have a beer and a smoke with friends, most of whom are singers, and most singers don't smoke anyway. i have only 1 or 2 friends who smoke at all, and one of them is only a sometimes smoker, like maybe one every month or so. i don't smoke at cafes because people are eating, and i would rather not do that to non smokers... but all of that is beside the point really.
the point is i have smoked on and off for a great number of years. the longest i have gone without smoking since i started was three years. i think my biggest issue is not that i can't quit, it's that i actually enjoy it. smoking that is, not quitting. i know it's bad for me. i know it smells. i smoke maybe 2 or three a day, so it's not like i am a chimney. some days even when i have some on hand i might not smoke at all. i have lots of friends telling me that i have to quit, it's bad for me, it's bad for my voice. that i can't afford it (which is sometimes true). None of these people "having a go at me" has ever inspired me to quit at all
Yesterday i had a friend say "you will one day". very simple. one day "I" will be ready to quit, for me. not quitting coz someone else is telling me i should. I think this is the closest someone has ever come to inspiring me to quit. i am not about to do it today, but yes, i will, one day.
that is all.
the point is i have smoked on and off for a great number of years. the longest i have gone without smoking since i started was three years. i think my biggest issue is not that i can't quit, it's that i actually enjoy it. smoking that is, not quitting. i know it's bad for me. i know it smells. i smoke maybe 2 or three a day, so it's not like i am a chimney. some days even when i have some on hand i might not smoke at all. i have lots of friends telling me that i have to quit, it's bad for me, it's bad for my voice. that i can't afford it (which is sometimes true). None of these people "having a go at me" has ever inspired me to quit at all
Yesterday i had a friend say "you will one day". very simple. one day "I" will be ready to quit, for me. not quitting coz someone else is telling me i should. I think this is the closest someone has ever come to inspiring me to quit. i am not about to do it today, but yes, i will, one day.
that is all.
as i changed lanes
completely on autopilot, i had a random remembering of why. i have driven that road and that route for years. when you come around that corner, there is almost guaranteed to be a queue of cars waiting to turn right, and if you aren't in the left lane, you will get caught behind them... but for the first time in a long time, it made me think of the reason i used to travel this route, which is different to the reason i travel it now. i used to know someone who lived up there. now he doesn't live there, and i wish i had never known him. but you can't choose your family.
anyway, once upon a time that trip took my mum 12 mins to do. when i type the addresses in question into google maps, they say it is a 39min trip... times have changed. Mum would never attempt to do that trip at that speed anymore, though she would still make the trip. I would still make it at that speed, but will never go there ever again.
some things that you never think will change, do. and other things just don't. i don't have a point other than that really. was just a random remembering...
that is all.
anyway, once upon a time that trip took my mum 12 mins to do. when i type the addresses in question into google maps, they say it is a 39min trip... times have changed. Mum would never attempt to do that trip at that speed anymore, though she would still make the trip. I would still make it at that speed, but will never go there ever again.
some things that you never think will change, do. and other things just don't. i don't have a point other than that really. was just a random remembering...
that is all.
family dinner
aka Sunday Soup.
early today i got a message. "family night dinner tomm night? are you free?..."
now, it turns out i am free, as i keep sunday nights free almost on principal, and on the not so off chance that i will get a text like that. the thing that thrills me about this text is, it's not from anyone who is related to me. I have been accepted into sunday soup family dinner night, regardless of the fact that i am not family. i can't put into words how special this makes me feel.
that is all.
early today i got a message. "family night dinner tomm night? are you free?..."
now, it turns out i am free, as i keep sunday nights free almost on principal, and on the not so off chance that i will get a text like that. the thing that thrills me about this text is, it's not from anyone who is related to me. I have been accepted into sunday soup family dinner night, regardless of the fact that i am not family. i can't put into words how special this makes me feel.
that is all.
20100623
DNR
yeah, that's right. Do. Not. Resuscitate.
for a long time i have been a believer in something akin to the theory of natural selection, survival of the fittest. If you are born with a genetic life disfiguring disease, and one of the attributes is the inability to reproduce, then perhaps it's a sign from a higher power that you having kids is not meant to be on the card. Do Not seek medical assistance in this matter. if you don't have any other issues, and infertility seems to be just something you got lumped with, then by all means - go for it.
i have always had the view that i don't really want to be old. i don't put an age on this - to me "old" is a state of frailty. the inability to look after yourself anymore, whether it be caused by physical or mental atrophy. that is old. if your 90 (like my grandfather) and still mowing your own lawns and cleaning your own gutters and playing tennis twice a week and giving lectures on nuclear physics at a local community college, then you are not old. if you are 70 and can't get out of bed without help because of a stroke and suffer from dementia making recovery from aforementioned stroke unlikely in the extreme, then you are old.
genetics in my family put me more in the first category than the second, and in that i am lucky. if i get parkinsons at 55, and then dementia at 60 - i don't want to be alive. if i make it 2 to 90 and still wish my kids would walk faster because i have places to be, then let me keep living (and keep up!)
today i read an article that made me think. if i have a stroke that would kill me without medical intervention, then i want to die. if i have a dicky heart that will only keep functioning with a pace maker, then i want to die. if i have cancer that chemo only has a chance of irradiating, or that is inoperable, then i want it to be left to run it's course.
there comes a point where too much medical assistance is too much. sure, if i am going to live anyway then yes, please, make it comfortable. but if without medical help i would die, then it's my time. let me go. I don;t want to live on and be a burden to anyone, and i don't believe that medical miracles are always a miracle.
that is all
for a long time i have been a believer in something akin to the theory of natural selection, survival of the fittest. If you are born with a genetic life disfiguring disease, and one of the attributes is the inability to reproduce, then perhaps it's a sign from a higher power that you having kids is not meant to be on the card. Do Not seek medical assistance in this matter. if you don't have any other issues, and infertility seems to be just something you got lumped with, then by all means - go for it.
i have always had the view that i don't really want to be old. i don't put an age on this - to me "old" is a state of frailty. the inability to look after yourself anymore, whether it be caused by physical or mental atrophy. that is old. if your 90 (like my grandfather) and still mowing your own lawns and cleaning your own gutters and playing tennis twice a week and giving lectures on nuclear physics at a local community college, then you are not old. if you are 70 and can't get out of bed without help because of a stroke and suffer from dementia making recovery from aforementioned stroke unlikely in the extreme, then you are old.
genetics in my family put me more in the first category than the second, and in that i am lucky. if i get parkinsons at 55, and then dementia at 60 - i don't want to be alive. if i make it 2 to 90 and still wish my kids would walk faster because i have places to be, then let me keep living (and keep up!)
today i read an article that made me think. if i have a stroke that would kill me without medical intervention, then i want to die. if i have a dicky heart that will only keep functioning with a pace maker, then i want to die. if i have cancer that chemo only has a chance of irradiating, or that is inoperable, then i want it to be left to run it's course.
there comes a point where too much medical assistance is too much. sure, if i am going to live anyway then yes, please, make it comfortable. but if without medical help i would die, then it's my time. let me go. I don;t want to live on and be a burden to anyone, and i don't believe that medical miracles are always a miracle.
that is all
20100617
we'll chalk that one up to experience.
i have a spare room i am trying to rent out. i put an ad online. today i had 2 people come to look.
the first guy didn't have a lot to say. my friend asked a few questions, one of which gave me quite a shock... "Are you likely to have friends over often?" i mean, of course that makes perfect sense, but i hadn't even thought about that. and the tv and my desk and computer are in the same room... anyway, that's be a no for him...
the second guy walked in and asked if there would be a desk in the room, and would i provide linen, and did i have a drier. no, no and no. he then said it looks good and can he sign the contract. NO...
i have someone else coming on the weekend. we'll see how that goes, but i may end up going with the devil i know...
the first guy didn't have a lot to say. my friend asked a few questions, one of which gave me quite a shock... "Are you likely to have friends over often?" i mean, of course that makes perfect sense, but i hadn't even thought about that. and the tv and my desk and computer are in the same room... anyway, that's be a no for him...
the second guy walked in and asked if there would be a desk in the room, and would i provide linen, and did i have a drier. no, no and no. he then said it looks good and can he sign the contract. NO...
i have someone else coming on the weekend. we'll see how that goes, but i may end up going with the devil i know...
20100607
life can be scarily short
a few months ago a friend of mine was unwell. nothing was said about what, we just knew she'd been in hospital and that she was really tired as a result. I made a few guesses, which were very intelligent, but as it turns out, very wrong. This friend is not yet 30, leads a very healthy lifestyle, eats in moderation, doesn't smoke, exercises, doesn't drink much, eats lots of home grown organic vegies, is slim and gorgeous. picture of everything we all aspire to do and be.
last night i found out her trip to hospital was because she had a heart attack.
at 29, she had a heart attack. i am still processing this, but it terrifies me. sometimes it just doesn't matter how well you look after yourself, or how young you are. life is precarious, and we can't just let it wander on by...
that is all
last night i found out her trip to hospital was because she had a heart attack.
at 29, she had a heart attack. i am still processing this, but it terrifies me. sometimes it just doesn't matter how well you look after yourself, or how young you are. life is precarious, and we can't just let it wander on by...
that is all
20100531
the fact that you matter isn't always a good thing
A few nights ago i went to see "A little Night Music" with Catherine Zeta Jones and Angela Lansbury. I knew nothing about the show. It was good, and they were both great. without them though, the show would have meant very little to me. they matter, to the exclusion of the show being good.
tonight i went to see "Next to Normal". I really wanted to see Alice Ripley, for a variety of reasons, none of them because i know her work, or even really know anything she has done. I know she won the Tony last year, and i have another fact or three about her, but that's all. I also knew nothing about the show, other than i have heard people say it's pretty heavy, but really good. I sat down, opened my playbill and two little 'understudy' slips fell out. "At this performance the role of DAN will be played by Michael Berry". "At this performance the role of DIANA will be played by Jessica Phillips". flick through playbill, Diana and Dan are the two leads. fuck. there goes Alice Ripley. oh well, such is life, that's what you get seeing a show on a sunday night of a holiday weekend.
Lights down, show starts. within seconds i had a feeling. within a few songs i was wiping tears from my cheeks and wondering if i could buy a songbook. by interval i was wishing i had a tissue and spent $90 on a program, the CD, the song book, a keyring, a hat. I have been found by this show. i can't put it into words. this show is what i needed right now - not because i necessarily associate with the story line, not necessarily because i was feeling down and needed a pick me up (coz this show ain't it). i can't explain it. This show is going to be the new "rent" in my life. the show i will see every chance i get. the show i will know all the words too within a week. the show i will sing as i walk down the street. the show i will perform songs from if i ever get the chance. the show i will tell everyone i can to go and see. (seriously - if you have the chance, SEE IT). the show i will audition to be a part of if it ever gets to amateur theatre in australia, even though the whole cast is only 6 people.
i waited at the stage door after and got signatures. i have never done that before, not even when i finally got the chance to see Rent in NYC. Jessica noted my accent in the three words i said, so i had a chance to say a few more. i told her she was amazing, that i had come to see the show "on spec" (which is mostly true) and that it was just amazing that i had to buy the lot! She is gorgeous, amazingly talented. I am so glad to have seen the show.
The clincher here is that She didn't matter. Alice didn't matter. The show matters. the show carried itself. She was brilliant. she matters, but not to the exclusion of the show.
that is all
tonight i went to see "Next to Normal". I really wanted to see Alice Ripley, for a variety of reasons, none of them because i know her work, or even really know anything she has done. I know she won the Tony last year, and i have another fact or three about her, but that's all. I also knew nothing about the show, other than i have heard people say it's pretty heavy, but really good. I sat down, opened my playbill and two little 'understudy' slips fell out. "At this performance the role of DAN will be played by Michael Berry". "At this performance the role of DIANA will be played by Jessica Phillips". flick through playbill, Diana and Dan are the two leads. fuck. there goes Alice Ripley. oh well, such is life, that's what you get seeing a show on a sunday night of a holiday weekend.
Lights down, show starts. within seconds i had a feeling. within a few songs i was wiping tears from my cheeks and wondering if i could buy a songbook. by interval i was wishing i had a tissue and spent $90 on a program, the CD, the song book, a keyring, a hat. I have been found by this show. i can't put it into words. this show is what i needed right now - not because i necessarily associate with the story line, not necessarily because i was feeling down and needed a pick me up (coz this show ain't it). i can't explain it. This show is going to be the new "rent" in my life. the show i will see every chance i get. the show i will know all the words too within a week. the show i will sing as i walk down the street. the show i will perform songs from if i ever get the chance. the show i will tell everyone i can to go and see. (seriously - if you have the chance, SEE IT). the show i will audition to be a part of if it ever gets to amateur theatre in australia, even though the whole cast is only 6 people.
i waited at the stage door after and got signatures. i have never done that before, not even when i finally got the chance to see Rent in NYC. Jessica noted my accent in the three words i said, so i had a chance to say a few more. i told her she was amazing, that i had come to see the show "on spec" (which is mostly true) and that it was just amazing that i had to buy the lot! She is gorgeous, amazingly talented. I am so glad to have seen the show.
The clincher here is that She didn't matter. Alice didn't matter. The show matters. the show carried itself. She was brilliant. she matters, but not to the exclusion of the show.
that is all
20100527
thing to remember about NYC
look left, keep right. the light switches are upside down, the toilets are just fuller and even though it looks like a zebra crossing, it isn't one...
it's the little things. the smell of the subway, the smell in the hallway that reminds me of the little softener sheets i used to put in with the clothes to dry.
Monday may 24th. again. still. on the subway. Across from me is a lady, i'm gonna say she's Korean, about 50. not sure why korean, she could be from any asian country, she just strikes me as korean. she is enjoying her own company greatly, chatting, laughing, smiling. just really happy. makes her look a bit mad, , but who are we to judge? i've been known to be walking down the street and been hit by a memory, or a thought, or a future plan and it cracks me up, or makes me smile so hard my cheeks hurt.
Movies on the plane - Avatar, Precious, a Tim Minchin doco and a movie about John Lennon as a boy - nowhere boy i think.
Apparently launch hasn't happened yet and may be being held till all three of us are around.
I need to get a subway map. i have no idea where i am, and only half an idea of where i am going...
it's the little things. the smell of the subway, the smell in the hallway that reminds me of the little softener sheets i used to put in with the clothes to dry.
Monday may 24th. again. still. on the subway. Across from me is a lady, i'm gonna say she's Korean, about 50. not sure why korean, she could be from any asian country, she just strikes me as korean. she is enjoying her own company greatly, chatting, laughing, smiling. just really happy. makes her look a bit mad, , but who are we to judge? i've been known to be walking down the street and been hit by a memory, or a thought, or a future plan and it cracks me up, or makes me smile so hard my cheeks hurt.
Movies on the plane - Avatar, Precious, a Tim Minchin doco and a movie about John Lennon as a boy - nowhere boy i think.
Apparently launch hasn't happened yet and may be being held till all three of us are around.
I need to get a subway map. i have no idea where i am, and only half an idea of where i am going...
things i wanted to tweet from the plane
red wine with my meal - not sure which meal of the day it was though...
finally watching avatar. it's about time.
i really like this blanket. will be glad to add it to my collection
empty seat next to me FTW
the hostesses and stewards are all really lovely
(that was all, there isn't a lot of mental stimulation on planes...)
finally watching avatar. it's about time.
i really like this blanket. will be glad to add it to my collection
empty seat next to me FTW
the hostesses and stewards are all really lovely
(that was all, there isn't a lot of mental stimulation on planes...)
20100523
today i was part of making history.
last night and today the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir made history along with the Sydney detachment of the Royal Australian Navy Band. We did a joint concert. it is the first time the navy band has performed with a gay and lesbian community organisation, the first time any defense in Australia have had a collaboration like this. possibly even the first time in the world.
i have a few different trains of thought about this. in no particular order...
everything we do every day is "making history". yeah some of it is really boring history, like going to the shops, or looking for employment, or feeding the cat. i'm sure no-one much cares about these parts of my life, but maybe one day in the very distant future someone will look back on this, and the (current day) very ordinary fact that i am writing a blog about it, and say "wow, is that how they did things in 2010" we can never know this for sure. i know i love social history, not about dates and facts and wars and treaties, but about dances and letter writing, and courting, and dress making. the every day stuff that we don't think of as making history...
thought 2. i'm really glad to have been part of something that comes under the heading of "slightly more interesting history". I'm glad that we have had the opportunity to break down some of the perceived barriers between the military, and the GLBTIQ community. and it was a great show too....
final thought...now, one fact i must point out is that i am in australia. we don't have any policy about gay people serving in the defense forces. if you want to serve your country, you can, no matter ur sexual preferences. this is as it should be. why should it matter who i sleep with if i was fighting to defend my country, my people, my nations ideals etc.
my thought is that i am a little saddened that we need to do concerts like this to break down people's perceptions of the military, and the gay community. this concert was born of the choirs desire to perform with a military band. our musical director contacted the defense gay and lesbian information service (DEFGLIS), and it all came together really well. admittedly, the band is comprised of soldiers, people who follow orders for a living, and people who were told that this is the show they are going to do next and that's just the way it is. But they were all really great people. the tenor sax player is in fact a lesbian, so i'm sure she was really glad to be a part of it. the only comment she made to me was when she was carting stuff past me for about the 5th time, and her comment was that being a pack horse came with the job. The bass trombone player asked me halfway through the first show if he could get tickets for the next day so his sister could come. they are just a band (who looked and sounded fantastic) and we are just a community choir. that's how i wish the world viewed us all, not as the gay and lesbian choir, and the band made up of soldiers who by definition must be a little stand offish with us because we are gay. we have come so far in recent decades, but there is still so far to come.
on a slightly different note, this evening (and by this evening, i mean the hours between 11:30pm and 1am) i was having a conversation with a friend in the USA which started out being about "lesbianisms" (like u-hauls and toaster ovens) and ended up being about what we face each day, having to come out regularly, and her trying to get an understanding about what it's like to be in our shoes. It was a really great conversation, and one i will never get tired of having, because every person who wants to know these things is a person on our side. it also added a whole new level of appreciation for this friend, that she wants to spend time asking questions and watching movies, and reading books and just getting to know what it feels like from the other perspective.
that is all (i think...)
i have a few different trains of thought about this. in no particular order...
everything we do every day is "making history". yeah some of it is really boring history, like going to the shops, or looking for employment, or feeding the cat. i'm sure no-one much cares about these parts of my life, but maybe one day in the very distant future someone will look back on this, and the (current day) very ordinary fact that i am writing a blog about it, and say "wow, is that how they did things in 2010" we can never know this for sure. i know i love social history, not about dates and facts and wars and treaties, but about dances and letter writing, and courting, and dress making. the every day stuff that we don't think of as making history...
thought 2. i'm really glad to have been part of something that comes under the heading of "slightly more interesting history". I'm glad that we have had the opportunity to break down some of the perceived barriers between the military, and the GLBTIQ community. and it was a great show too....
final thought...now, one fact i must point out is that i am in australia. we don't have any policy about gay people serving in the defense forces. if you want to serve your country, you can, no matter ur sexual preferences. this is as it should be. why should it matter who i sleep with if i was fighting to defend my country, my people, my nations ideals etc.
my thought is that i am a little saddened that we need to do concerts like this to break down people's perceptions of the military, and the gay community. this concert was born of the choirs desire to perform with a military band. our musical director contacted the defense gay and lesbian information service (DEFGLIS), and it all came together really well. admittedly, the band is comprised of soldiers, people who follow orders for a living, and people who were told that this is the show they are going to do next and that's just the way it is. But they were all really great people. the tenor sax player is in fact a lesbian, so i'm sure she was really glad to be a part of it. the only comment she made to me was when she was carting stuff past me for about the 5th time, and her comment was that being a pack horse came with the job. The bass trombone player asked me halfway through the first show if he could get tickets for the next day so his sister could come. they are just a band (who looked and sounded fantastic) and we are just a community choir. that's how i wish the world viewed us all, not as the gay and lesbian choir, and the band made up of soldiers who by definition must be a little stand offish with us because we are gay. we have come so far in recent decades, but there is still so far to come.
on a slightly different note, this evening (and by this evening, i mean the hours between 11:30pm and 1am) i was having a conversation with a friend in the USA which started out being about "lesbianisms" (like u-hauls and toaster ovens) and ended up being about what we face each day, having to come out regularly, and her trying to get an understanding about what it's like to be in our shoes. It was a really great conversation, and one i will never get tired of having, because every person who wants to know these things is a person on our side. it also added a whole new level of appreciation for this friend, that she wants to spend time asking questions and watching movies, and reading books and just getting to know what it feels like from the other perspective.
that is all (i think...)
20100514
good things that happened today
my shower was really nice and hot
i got to work on time.
i got coffee
i got a box from Wine selectors!!!! upon checking it later, it turned out to be 4 really nice red wine glasses and a bottle of 2004 cab sav shiraz - multi-award winner. apparently mum singed up to wine selectors coz i am signed up, and so i got a free gift!
as i was leaving work i noted that there was pink fluff on the carpet. mum said i could iron the carpet tomorrow.... made me laugh
mum told me we are having my b'day dinner tomorrow. about a month early...
i got a really sweet text message from a friend. (i still need to reply)
i had yummy steamed things for dinner.
there were other things that were less fun, but i decided not to dwell on them, and only think about the good things.
that is all.
i got to work on time.
i got coffee
i got a box from Wine selectors!!!! upon checking it later, it turned out to be 4 really nice red wine glasses and a bottle of 2004 cab sav shiraz - multi-award winner. apparently mum singed up to wine selectors coz i am signed up, and so i got a free gift!
as i was leaving work i noted that there was pink fluff on the carpet. mum said i could iron the carpet tomorrow.... made me laugh
mum told me we are having my b'day dinner tomorrow. about a month early...
i got a really sweet text message from a friend. (i still need to reply)
i had yummy steamed things for dinner.
there were other things that were less fun, but i decided not to dwell on them, and only think about the good things.
that is all.
20100511
old money.
i got handed an old $5 note the other day. it wasn't a fantastic old paper one, it was that first plastic one, with the wishy washy colours that people obviously complained about, because it got changed...
back in the good old days we had notes for all the dollar amounts. $1 was brown, $2 was green, $5 - pink-ish, $10 - blue, $20 - orange, $50 kinda yellow, $100 a very boring grey. (some pictured here and others here ). i remember in 1988 i saved up a months pocket money to go to the bank before school (we started school at 9:25am) and get a brand new $2 coin. i showed everyone in my class and all the teachers (i was 8...) and then promptly spent it on a candy induced belly ache...
when i was a teen $5 and higher were changing from paper to plastic. i decided to collect them as they were phased out, and had $88 stuck to my wardrobe door for a good few moths. then one day they were gone, and my sister said the neighbour must have stolen them. we used to leave our back door unlocked. but i was not that naive... wasn't much i could do about it though, but the upshot is i no longer have all bar one of the paper notes...
being handed an old wishy washy just reminded me, that's all.
back in the good old days we had notes for all the dollar amounts. $1 was brown, $2 was green, $5 - pink-ish, $10 - blue, $20 - orange, $50 kinda yellow, $100 a very boring grey. (some pictured here and others here ). i remember in 1988 i saved up a months pocket money to go to the bank before school (we started school at 9:25am) and get a brand new $2 coin. i showed everyone in my class and all the teachers (i was 8...) and then promptly spent it on a candy induced belly ache...
when i was a teen $5 and higher were changing from paper to plastic. i decided to collect them as they were phased out, and had $88 stuck to my wardrobe door for a good few moths. then one day they were gone, and my sister said the neighbour must have stolen them. we used to leave our back door unlocked. but i was not that naive... wasn't much i could do about it though, but the upshot is i no longer have all bar one of the paper notes...
being handed an old wishy washy just reminded me, that's all.
20100505
the filing cabinet...
and instant noodles...
tonight i had to go down to the filing cabinet. it's in the garage, and squashed up against other stuff that i am storing there, like a punching bag and half a house full of antique furniture. I needed to find the certificate that says i can responsibly serve alcohol, and therefore can get a job in any establishment that sells alcohol. a very useful thing to have these days, and didn't cost me anything to get when i did it 6yrs ago. Thankfully my certificate and transcript were in a box on top of the filing cabinet so no heavy lifting was required *putting my butch card away, undusted*
While i was there i also found some old transcripts which i might need when i enroll in a university preparation course tomorrow. ya know, i'm 30 now, figured it was probably about time i went to uni... and i have finally found something that inspires me enough to want to live on instant noodles for the next 4yrs. So, in honour of my enrollment tomorrow, i am having instant noodles for dinner. right now, at 10:31pm, and straight from the pyrex measuring jug in which i cooked them in the microwave. so very student life style. all i need is a beer and i would have this thing in the bag! *sipping my G&T* whaaaa!?!?!!
while i was looking for my RSA i also found a highly entertaining letter from a teacher, written to my mother in may 1994. i was about to be 15. the fact that i have it, and it has been severely scrunched and then flattened suggests to me that my mother never saw it...
but here it is for you, typed out exactly as written.
25.5.1994
Languages Faculty
Dear Mrs Clarke (not only spelt wrong, but my mother went by Ms.)
We are very concerned about Alex progress/conduct/attendance in Latin.
What particularly concerns us regarding your son/daughter is:
~ regular histrionic behaviour & lack of self control.
~ disruptions to others through talking and above.
~ underachievement in classwork & tests
~ lack of positive attitude to do the right thing.
~ short attention span & inability to focus due to other agenda
~ she is difficult to discipline and very volatile
We would be pleased to discuss this matter with you. Please call the school for an appointment with your son/daughter's subject teacher, Ms. Diana Fraser.
Your faithfully
N.W. JENNINGS
HEAD TEACHER, LANGUAGES
Now, Mr Jennings wouldn't have been able to identify me if he walked into our classroom, and there were only about 12 of us in the class.
I remember making life Hell for Ms fraser, for a very short period. I loved Latin, and i loved my latin teacher in yr 7 and 8, and then over summer she was gone and we had Ms Fraser. if i had not been such a pain in the arse i could have easily passed latin, even got close to 100%. the language makes sense, and she would translate everything for us in class. if i had just written stuff down i could have aced the class. but something about her rubbed me the wrong way. quite possibly it was the fact that she translated everything for us in class. there was no autonomy in her class room. not long after the letter she kicked me out, and said i was not welcome back in her class until i had been to see the counselor. Now seeing a counselor is useless if you are sent there, i know this for a fact, my mother sent me to one when i came out. I had no intention of going to see the school counselor, so i just didn't go to class for two months. when i returned to class she was as sweet as pie to me. She put the rest of the class on yellow slips one day, but not me (yellow slips have to be signed by every teacher for a week to say you attended class and behaved. not sure what the consequence was though). for a few months i paid attention, wrote stuff down, got a really good mark on my end of yr exam that year. over the summer i seem to recall something being said about her not wanting me in her class the following year. Now, this was a 2yr course, and as i'm sure you can imagine by the small size of my class, there was no other latin class for me to attend, so i went to see my year adviser and she sorted it out. I went to latin, continued as i had at the end of the previous year, behaving, paying attention, doing well. then one day, mid term, mid week, completely without warning we had a new teacher. i thought he was a substitute teacher and so asked jokingly if Ms Fraser had gone. when he said yes i almost fell over. now i didn't much like him either, but he was just boring, and made us do the work ourselves (as we should have been for the previous yr and a bit). this is where it showed that i had not been listening for over 6 months. my final exam mark for Latin was 9%. yes that's correct. 9%. the grade on my report card is a D. how the hell you get a percentage mark in single figures and not get a fail is beyond me. I still love latin, but the phrases i have retained are useless. i can say thing like "alas, the dog is annoying me" (ehue, canis et meum vexat), "oh no, i'm dead" (ecce, mortuus sum), "mother is in the hall, the dog is in the street" (Mater est in atrio, canis est in via) and "Grumio is in the kitchen pleasing the slave girl" (Grumio est in culina, delectat ancilla). that last one is my favourite.
but seriously. why did i ever choose to study latin???
tonight i had to go down to the filing cabinet. it's in the garage, and squashed up against other stuff that i am storing there, like a punching bag and half a house full of antique furniture. I needed to find the certificate that says i can responsibly serve alcohol, and therefore can get a job in any establishment that sells alcohol. a very useful thing to have these days, and didn't cost me anything to get when i did it 6yrs ago. Thankfully my certificate and transcript were in a box on top of the filing cabinet so no heavy lifting was required *putting my butch card away, undusted*
While i was there i also found some old transcripts which i might need when i enroll in a university preparation course tomorrow. ya know, i'm 30 now, figured it was probably about time i went to uni... and i have finally found something that inspires me enough to want to live on instant noodles for the next 4yrs. So, in honour of my enrollment tomorrow, i am having instant noodles for dinner. right now, at 10:31pm, and straight from the pyrex measuring jug in which i cooked them in the microwave. so very student life style. all i need is a beer and i would have this thing in the bag! *sipping my G&T* whaaaa!?!?!!
while i was looking for my RSA i also found a highly entertaining letter from a teacher, written to my mother in may 1994. i was about to be 15. the fact that i have it, and it has been severely scrunched and then flattened suggests to me that my mother never saw it...
but here it is for you, typed out exactly as written.
25.5.1994
Languages Faculty
Dear Mrs Clarke (not only spelt wrong, but my mother went by Ms.)
We are very concerned about Alex progress/conduct/attendance in Latin.
What particularly concerns us regarding your son/daughter is:
~ regular histrionic behaviour & lack of self control.
~ disruptions to others through talking and above.
~ underachievement in classwork & tests
~ lack of positive attitude to do the right thing.
~ short attention span & inability to focus due to other agenda
~ she is difficult to discipline and very volatile
We would be pleased to discuss this matter with you. Please call the school for an appointment with your son/daughter's subject teacher, Ms. Diana Fraser.
Your faithfully
N.W. JENNINGS
HEAD TEACHER, LANGUAGES
Now, Mr Jennings wouldn't have been able to identify me if he walked into our classroom, and there were only about 12 of us in the class.
I remember making life Hell for Ms fraser, for a very short period. I loved Latin, and i loved my latin teacher in yr 7 and 8, and then over summer she was gone and we had Ms Fraser. if i had not been such a pain in the arse i could have easily passed latin, even got close to 100%. the language makes sense, and she would translate everything for us in class. if i had just written stuff down i could have aced the class. but something about her rubbed me the wrong way. quite possibly it was the fact that she translated everything for us in class. there was no autonomy in her class room. not long after the letter she kicked me out, and said i was not welcome back in her class until i had been to see the counselor. Now seeing a counselor is useless if you are sent there, i know this for a fact, my mother sent me to one when i came out. I had no intention of going to see the school counselor, so i just didn't go to class for two months. when i returned to class she was as sweet as pie to me. She put the rest of the class on yellow slips one day, but not me (yellow slips have to be signed by every teacher for a week to say you attended class and behaved. not sure what the consequence was though). for a few months i paid attention, wrote stuff down, got a really good mark on my end of yr exam that year. over the summer i seem to recall something being said about her not wanting me in her class the following year. Now, this was a 2yr course, and as i'm sure you can imagine by the small size of my class, there was no other latin class for me to attend, so i went to see my year adviser and she sorted it out. I went to latin, continued as i had at the end of the previous year, behaving, paying attention, doing well. then one day, mid term, mid week, completely without warning we had a new teacher. i thought he was a substitute teacher and so asked jokingly if Ms Fraser had gone. when he said yes i almost fell over. now i didn't much like him either, but he was just boring, and made us do the work ourselves (as we should have been for the previous yr and a bit). this is where it showed that i had not been listening for over 6 months. my final exam mark for Latin was 9%. yes that's correct. 9%. the grade on my report card is a D. how the hell you get a percentage mark in single figures and not get a fail is beyond me. I still love latin, but the phrases i have retained are useless. i can say thing like "alas, the dog is annoying me" (ehue, canis et meum vexat), "oh no, i'm dead" (ecce, mortuus sum), "mother is in the hall, the dog is in the street" (Mater est in atrio, canis est in via) and "Grumio is in the kitchen pleasing the slave girl" (Grumio est in culina, delectat ancilla). that last one is my favourite.
but seriously. why did i ever choose to study latin???
20100430
the date..
quite recently it was 26/4/10. i had to write the date down a few times that day. and half the time i did it i wrote 26/10/4. i have no idea why i kept getting it wrong, but it led me to thinking maybe that date had some psychic significance.
so, what was i doing on Oct 26, 2004... well my friends twins were born on sept 21, so they would have been just coming home from the hospital - they were premmie... I might have been just getting my arm out of plaster, i had broken it at karate b4 the twins were born. my partner was less then three weeks away from giving birth, which probably means we were at the hospital, at least sometime within a week we would have been at any rate. we spent a lot of time there. work was boring, but there were a few layoffs about a month later, not me. there was a huge thing going on which i won't talk about, but i don't recall anything specific about it happening that day.
so the long and short of it is, i don't know. when we look back in our lives do we ever remember what happened on a specific random day? i know we remember the big things, but if you had to pick a random day of the year 6 years ago, what do you remember???
so, what was i doing on Oct 26, 2004... well my friends twins were born on sept 21, so they would have been just coming home from the hospital - they were premmie... I might have been just getting my arm out of plaster, i had broken it at karate b4 the twins were born. my partner was less then three weeks away from giving birth, which probably means we were at the hospital, at least sometime within a week we would have been at any rate. we spent a lot of time there. work was boring, but there were a few layoffs about a month later, not me. there was a huge thing going on which i won't talk about, but i don't recall anything specific about it happening that day.
so the long and short of it is, i don't know. when we look back in our lives do we ever remember what happened on a specific random day? i know we remember the big things, but if you had to pick a random day of the year 6 years ago, what do you remember???
20100421
working with mum...
or "how to feel like a teenager all over again".
“By the way, I know I’m this confident, ‘out’ person on the outside, but there’s still part of me that’s like this 16-year-old scared girl who is in the locker room and doesn’t want to look up for fear that the other girls will think she’s looking at them…”
Nicole Pacent said it right. and it's a real thing, that so many of us experience, and still struggle with. I don't know what goes through str8 girls minds when they are in the same situation, coz i'm not a str8 girl. it doesn't matter that i'm not interested in any of the bodies around me in a dressing room, but i worry that the other girls will think i am looking because i am gay, so i keep my eyes down, or face the wall. i'm not modest. i really don't care if you see me in my underwear. i don't care if your male, female, gay or straight, if we're getting changed you will see my underwear. meh, no biggy. If i am interested in dating you then i will care more, but only because, like most women, i lack body confidence.
so how does this relate to working with my mother? She manages a costume shop. She is a costumier by trade. Her work and training and qualifications means she spends a lot of time with people in their underwear, and when they go see her they expect that. I have been working with her, but have done everything i can to avoid helping people with fastenings or fittings or anything like that. it comes back to that fear that people will think i am looking at them. we get school kids through to grandparents in the shop, trying on costumes. it's what we do, and it's why they come, but it's generally only the women who need help with fastenings - it's the nature of the costumes they wear. and because i work there i guess they expect me to have the level of professionalism, and maybe i'll become confident in that thought one day, but right now the fear wins, and Mum just doesn't understand. which takes me back to "what do str8 girls think". by the way my mother acts and reacts i could take it that it's not an issue. but then again, as stated, this is her career, her trade.
but i hate feeling like a teenager. it wasn't that much fun first time around.
“By the way, I know I’m this confident, ‘out’ person on the outside, but there’s still part of me that’s like this 16-year-old scared girl who is in the locker room and doesn’t want to look up for fear that the other girls will think she’s looking at them…”
Nicole Pacent said it right. and it's a real thing, that so many of us experience, and still struggle with. I don't know what goes through str8 girls minds when they are in the same situation, coz i'm not a str8 girl. it doesn't matter that i'm not interested in any of the bodies around me in a dressing room, but i worry that the other girls will think i am looking because i am gay, so i keep my eyes down, or face the wall. i'm not modest. i really don't care if you see me in my underwear. i don't care if your male, female, gay or straight, if we're getting changed you will see my underwear. meh, no biggy. If i am interested in dating you then i will care more, but only because, like most women, i lack body confidence.
so how does this relate to working with my mother? She manages a costume shop. She is a costumier by trade. Her work and training and qualifications means she spends a lot of time with people in their underwear, and when they go see her they expect that. I have been working with her, but have done everything i can to avoid helping people with fastenings or fittings or anything like that. it comes back to that fear that people will think i am looking at them. we get school kids through to grandparents in the shop, trying on costumes. it's what we do, and it's why they come, but it's generally only the women who need help with fastenings - it's the nature of the costumes they wear. and because i work there i guess they expect me to have the level of professionalism, and maybe i'll become confident in that thought one day, but right now the fear wins, and Mum just doesn't understand. which takes me back to "what do str8 girls think". by the way my mother acts and reacts i could take it that it's not an issue. but then again, as stated, this is her career, her trade.
but i hate feeling like a teenager. it wasn't that much fun first time around.
20100413
since forever ago...
my cat is an odd ball. he is on prozac. lately he has started to settle. i really like it. the things i love most about him.. when he's settled, when he is following all his own little routines that i know and expect. when i wake up he try's to convince me to feed him b4 i shower. he always fails, follows me into the bathroom, and as soon as i turn on the water he leaves. when i get out he then sits on the mat between my feet and stays there till i hang up my towel. when i sit in a particular spot he will wonder around my legs, waiting for me to pull his tail. when i get pizza he will sit on the box. if he can't have any, then neither can i...
there are some routines i am less excited about. he will wait till i am cleaning the litter to go... he will sit on the clean washing and leave it covered in hair. when i am putting clean sheets on the bed he will try and get under the sheets, in the quilt cover, every where, super hyperactive, and i always end up with scratches.... i totally understand why my friends have taken to calling him cunter...
but i love him....
there are some routines i am less excited about. he will wait till i am cleaning the litter to go... he will sit on the clean washing and leave it covered in hair. when i am putting clean sheets on the bed he will try and get under the sheets, in the quilt cover, every where, super hyperactive, and i always end up with scratches.... i totally understand why my friends have taken to calling him cunter...
but i love him....
20100218
the river
every day i cross this river twice. i cross this piece of my childhood, so integral in the life of sydney. the river that starts as a creek and becomes what i believe to be one of the most beautiful harbours in the world. I grew up by this river, in this river, on this river. playing in the mangroves and on the fairy's island down near the elephant cage at the end of my street. we'd leave in the morning and come home wet and dirty when our bellies said it was lunch time. as i got older there was sailing, rowing and canoeing on the river. surfing ferry waves in kayaks. floating in an upturned canoe, kissing in an upturned canoe because no-one else existed in the world at that time. sailing and constantly being terryfied of capsizing in the ferry channel. rowing to abbotsford alone in tom thumb, all the boys in arrowhead. beating the boys, proving that i was as good as them, and better. taking the row boats our for late night picnics. standing thigh deep in the most horrible sticky black mud at low tide, the only way to get out being to lie down. campfires on the beach. dead grass after a king tide. running and bombing off the end of the pier at tingira - completely against the rules, but so much fun. fetching soccer balls b4 they get too far.
i miss the times i've spent with this river. it is an old friend who will always be there for me. I would have as much trouble leaving it as i would leaving sydney.
everyday i cross this river twice, and my childhood lives on in my mind and i look forward to the next time i can get back in.
that is all.
i miss the times i've spent with this river. it is an old friend who will always be there for me. I would have as much trouble leaving it as i would leaving sydney.
everyday i cross this river twice, and my childhood lives on in my mind and i look forward to the next time i can get back in.
that is all.
20100214
girls night out
aka, a big weekend...
on thursday night. after i had taken my car on a date to the movies i dropped in at post choir drinks - which is always lovely. at least a dozen of us, sometimes closer to 20, invade a local cafe/bar and completely dominate the outdoor area! right there we planned for all 6 of the "cleavage club" (the younger group of women in the choir, most of us have ample cleavage...) to go see Valentines Day on friday. when planning this i had forgotten that i have guides on a friday now, but thankfully we went to a later session and so i only had to leave guides a little early.
anyhoo, got to the movie - no-one bought Libby a ticket, so we had to sneak her in.... there was a seat for her, and she did buy a ticket, just not the same movie... i won't review the movie except to say it is the same premise as Love Actually, but different enough to not beg too much comparison.
about halfway through the movie we could here water running. lots of it. when we had arrived it was hot and muggy and we knew a storm was coming. it was loud, but not so completely annoying that you couldn't still enjoy the movie. you could tell it was in the roof. after about 5 or 10 mins, the sound changed. all of a sudden the running water was inside... in three points the roof started leaking. it was running at about the pace you would turn on a tap to wash ur hands - really pouring in through the roof. we had a laugh, someone went to tell the people, but there was nothing they could do. when the movie finished we went to play in the huge puddles that had formed in the carpet.. we splashed and played like kids, and took photo's. Candy had her brollie so there are pics of us standing under the shower... it was so much fun, esp after a generally entertaining movie. if you go see it stay for the beginning of the credits - there are out takes - funny stuff.
saturday - slept a little late.. had rehearsal from 10-4, but it was so hot we ended up finishing early. lunch time conversation - a lot of laughs. and as so often happens we flick through a huge variety of topics, but come back and forth to sex about 15 times in an hour... then back home after that, with some of the girls, we had over an hour to get ready to go out for the night. they all had to straighten their hair... so girly for a bunch of lesbians...
dinner of pizza and wine, then on to karaoke. i haven't been a non designated driver for years... and the birthday girl wanted lots of songs sung for her b'day, so starting at dinner and going right through karaoke and on to Max Brenner for coffee after we sang the whole night. we had randoms stopping on the side of kings st in newtown to listen to us sing! none of it was classy, but it was all fun. it was a great saturday.
in a few hours i have to get ready to go out to a movie launch... About a yr ago the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir performed henry purcells "fairy queen". We were the first G&L choir to ever put on a full opera. it was documented and tonight that documentary is being launched. really looking forward to it - another night out with my choir friends, who i love so dearly.
that is all.
on thursday night. after i had taken my car on a date to the movies i dropped in at post choir drinks - which is always lovely. at least a dozen of us, sometimes closer to 20, invade a local cafe/bar and completely dominate the outdoor area! right there we planned for all 6 of the "cleavage club" (the younger group of women in the choir, most of us have ample cleavage...) to go see Valentines Day on friday. when planning this i had forgotten that i have guides on a friday now, but thankfully we went to a later session and so i only had to leave guides a little early.
anyhoo, got to the movie - no-one bought Libby a ticket, so we had to sneak her in.... there was a seat for her, and she did buy a ticket, just not the same movie... i won't review the movie except to say it is the same premise as Love Actually, but different enough to not beg too much comparison.
about halfway through the movie we could here water running. lots of it. when we had arrived it was hot and muggy and we knew a storm was coming. it was loud, but not so completely annoying that you couldn't still enjoy the movie. you could tell it was in the roof. after about 5 or 10 mins, the sound changed. all of a sudden the running water was inside... in three points the roof started leaking. it was running at about the pace you would turn on a tap to wash ur hands - really pouring in through the roof. we had a laugh, someone went to tell the people, but there was nothing they could do. when the movie finished we went to play in the huge puddles that had formed in the carpet.. we splashed and played like kids, and took photo's. Candy had her brollie so there are pics of us standing under the shower... it was so much fun, esp after a generally entertaining movie. if you go see it stay for the beginning of the credits - there are out takes - funny stuff.
saturday - slept a little late.. had rehearsal from 10-4, but it was so hot we ended up finishing early. lunch time conversation - a lot of laughs. and as so often happens we flick through a huge variety of topics, but come back and forth to sex about 15 times in an hour... then back home after that, with some of the girls, we had over an hour to get ready to go out for the night. they all had to straighten their hair... so girly for a bunch of lesbians...
dinner of pizza and wine, then on to karaoke. i haven't been a non designated driver for years... and the birthday girl wanted lots of songs sung for her b'day, so starting at dinner and going right through karaoke and on to Max Brenner for coffee after we sang the whole night. we had randoms stopping on the side of kings st in newtown to listen to us sing! none of it was classy, but it was all fun. it was a great saturday.
in a few hours i have to get ready to go out to a movie launch... About a yr ago the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir performed henry purcells "fairy queen". We were the first G&L choir to ever put on a full opera. it was documented and tonight that documentary is being launched. really looking forward to it - another night out with my choir friends, who i love so dearly.
that is all.
20100211
fault and human traits.
"When it comes to Terry's part of it, and Alima's, I'm sorry—and I'm ashamed. Of course I blame her somewhat. She wasn't as fine a psychologist as Ellador, and what's more, I think she had a far-descended atavistic trace of more marked femaleness, never apparent till Terry called it out. But when all is said, it doesn't excuse him. I hadn't realized to the full Terry's character—I couldn't, being a man." - Herland, Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman
I am reading Herland at the moment. It's a utopian society that for thousands of years has been entirley comprised of women. this section that i have copied here is basically about rape. it is never stated so harshly, and it was written in a time when marital rape didn't exist - or more accurately wasn't defined as a crime, or even an act. if you married a man you had given up ur right to say no... the implication given by the narrator is that Alima is as much to blame for the rape as Terry, because she is female, and also because she didn't or couldn't explain to terry well enough about the beliefs of her world that meant that sex wasn't for any purpose other than procreation, because that is the natural order of things in the animal kingdom. He is to be absolved of some of the blame because he is male and it is his nature and right as a MAN to "have" his wife.
i am simmering this right down to basic principals, read the book to get the whole story - it's not that long.
so it's her upbringing and culture and custom of her people for thousands of years to not have sex. it's his upbringing and culture and customs of his people for thousands of years that when you get married you own the woman and therefore she has no right, no thought, to say no to you in any matter.
therefore both are responsible for the act that took place, her for not submitting, him for not seeing her as different to the women of his world who had been rasied with the same ideals and beliefs as he had.
Me being me, a woman who was born in the late 20th Century, strong minded, strong willed, opinionated, i struggle with seeing how Alima can be at fault in this situation. Men don't rule the world, certainly not my world. it scares me that it was 1991 before the australian high court abolished a ruling that exempted any husband from being convicted of rape if his victim was his wife (though South Australia had partially abolished this as "early" 1975). i am not a complete innocent and totally blinkered in this world, but i struggle to see how a woman/victim can EVER be at fault for rape.
maybe this is another reason why we don't have as many children per family as we used to...
where do we draw the line though. where do we say, it's not ur fault, it's the way you were raised, it's not ur fault it's just part of ur nature and ur culture. if i was raised in a culture that existed entirley on communal food and then came to work in an office, would i be allowed to raid the fridge and eat whatever i wanted because it is how i was raised? if i was raised to believe that the elderly and terminally ill are a burden on society and therefore they must be left to nature to deal with (euthanasia through omission of care), would i be unaccountable under Australian law which still outlaws euthanasia? i think the answer most people would agree in both cases is i would still be at fault and accountable under whatever system of government there was.
just reconciling thought in my head..
that is all...
I am reading Herland at the moment. It's a utopian society that for thousands of years has been entirley comprised of women. this section that i have copied here is basically about rape. it is never stated so harshly, and it was written in a time when marital rape didn't exist - or more accurately wasn't defined as a crime, or even an act. if you married a man you had given up ur right to say no... the implication given by the narrator is that Alima is as much to blame for the rape as Terry, because she is female, and also because she didn't or couldn't explain to terry well enough about the beliefs of her world that meant that sex wasn't for any purpose other than procreation, because that is the natural order of things in the animal kingdom. He is to be absolved of some of the blame because he is male and it is his nature and right as a MAN to "have" his wife.
i am simmering this right down to basic principals, read the book to get the whole story - it's not that long.
so it's her upbringing and culture and custom of her people for thousands of years to not have sex. it's his upbringing and culture and customs of his people for thousands of years that when you get married you own the woman and therefore she has no right, no thought, to say no to you in any matter.
therefore both are responsible for the act that took place, her for not submitting, him for not seeing her as different to the women of his world who had been rasied with the same ideals and beliefs as he had.
Me being me, a woman who was born in the late 20th Century, strong minded, strong willed, opinionated, i struggle with seeing how Alima can be at fault in this situation. Men don't rule the world, certainly not my world. it scares me that it was 1991 before the australian high court abolished a ruling that exempted any husband from being convicted of rape if his victim was his wife (though South Australia had partially abolished this as "early" 1975). i am not a complete innocent and totally blinkered in this world, but i struggle to see how a woman/victim can EVER be at fault for rape.
maybe this is another reason why we don't have as many children per family as we used to...
where do we draw the line though. where do we say, it's not ur fault, it's the way you were raised, it's not ur fault it's just part of ur nature and ur culture. if i was raised in a culture that existed entirley on communal food and then came to work in an office, would i be allowed to raid the fridge and eat whatever i wanted because it is how i was raised? if i was raised to believe that the elderly and terminally ill are a burden on society and therefore they must be left to nature to deal with (euthanasia through omission of care), would i be unaccountable under Australian law which still outlaws euthanasia? i think the answer most people would agree in both cases is i would still be at fault and accountable under whatever system of government there was.
just reconciling thought in my head..
that is all...
20100206
i thought i had written this
i already thought i had written about this but i can't find it anywhere
i'm watching star wars. revenge of the sith. Anikan does it all for love. he turns to the dark side because he has a premonition that his wife is going to die. he is trying to save her, instead he ends up being the reason she dies.
how often do we all do something out of love, or for the best intention and it all goes wrong. they said it in Wicked too - no good deed goes unpunished, no act of charity goes unresented. was said in Xena too, frequently, by Ares.
i'm not sure i have a point, but it's just a thought that runs around my head every now and then, and makes me think.
"Was I really seeking good
Or just seeking attention?
Is that all good deeds are
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?"
that is all
i'm watching star wars. revenge of the sith. Anikan does it all for love. he turns to the dark side because he has a premonition that his wife is going to die. he is trying to save her, instead he ends up being the reason she dies.
how often do we all do something out of love, or for the best intention and it all goes wrong. they said it in Wicked too - no good deed goes unpunished, no act of charity goes unresented. was said in Xena too, frequently, by Ares.
i'm not sure i have a point, but it's just a thought that runs around my head every now and then, and makes me think.
"Was I really seeking good
Or just seeking attention?
Is that all good deeds are
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?"
that is all
20100205
20100204
gay marriage is wrong because...
i found this whilst wandering around the interwebz and wanted to share..
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control are not natural.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people cannot get legally married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children because straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful, since Britney Spears’s 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and it hasn’t changed at all: women are property, Blacks can’t marry Whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by the people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of the official state religion are always imposed on the entire country.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people makes you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage license.
10. Children can never succeed without both male and female role models at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to cars or longer lifespans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages will for gays & lesbians.
1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control are not natural.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people cannot get legally married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children because straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful, since Britney Spears’s 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and it hasn’t changed at all: women are property, Blacks can’t marry Whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by the people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of the official state religion are always imposed on the entire country.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people makes you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage license.
10. Children can never succeed without both male and female role models at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to cars or longer lifespans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages will for gays & lesbians.
20100201
love and hate monday...
monday. the day we all love to hate. it makes sunday nights uncool just by association.
i was sitting on the loo thinking - coz that's where so many of us do our best thinking (and there is scientific reasoning behind this, to do with letting ur mind wander and being able to recognise that "ah hah!" moment...) about things i love and hate..
i love my new chucks - white, covered with tiny black stars.
i hate talking to people in public toilets.
i hate that self confidence, or a lack of it, can be so debilitating.
i hate that i missed out on saying good bye last night because of it.
i love that it was commented on.
i love that i was included in the "you don't need to rush off" group.
i hate the fact that she told me i "missed out" once before.
i love that i had an opportunity to miss...
i love anticipation
i hate anticipation
that is all
i was sitting on the loo thinking - coz that's where so many of us do our best thinking (and there is scientific reasoning behind this, to do with letting ur mind wander and being able to recognise that "ah hah!" moment...) about things i love and hate..
i love my new chucks - white, covered with tiny black stars.
i hate talking to people in public toilets.
i hate that self confidence, or a lack of it, can be so debilitating.
i hate that i missed out on saying good bye last night because of it.
i love that it was commented on.
i love that i was included in the "you don't need to rush off" group.
i hate the fact that she told me i "missed out" once before.
i love that i had an opportunity to miss...
i love anticipation
i hate anticipation
that is all
20100129
schools back...
Have you ever floated a leaf down a creek in the country, or watched a gum wrapper meander along the rain? it's peaceful. sometimes watching students can be like that. better when you can't hear them.
Students en masse are like water. slow moving water... they will find the path of least resistance. not always the fastest way, but without fail, the easiest. so if you want a pleasent stroll stick with the students. if you want to get somewhere quickly, maybe find another way..
I haven't caught a train consistently since i left high school. i have recently started catching the train to work three days a week, on the smae line that i used to catch in school. this morning, now that school is back, i was surrounded by fortians (Fort St students - once a fortian, always a fortain) as i got off the train. the scary thing is that they were instantly recognisable by their uniforms. in my day (when we had to walk up hill 5 miles both ways in the snow just to get to school...) Fortians were conspicuous for their lack of uniform... how times have changed....
that is all. just a little trp down my memory lane..
Students en masse are like water. slow moving water... they will find the path of least resistance. not always the fastest way, but without fail, the easiest. so if you want a pleasent stroll stick with the students. if you want to get somewhere quickly, maybe find another way..
I haven't caught a train consistently since i left high school. i have recently started catching the train to work three days a week, on the smae line that i used to catch in school. this morning, now that school is back, i was surrounded by fortians (Fort St students - once a fortian, always a fortain) as i got off the train. the scary thing is that they were instantly recognisable by their uniforms. in my day (when we had to walk up hill 5 miles both ways in the snow just to get to school...) Fortians were conspicuous for their lack of uniform... how times have changed....
that is all. just a little trp down my memory lane..
20100124
huge. massive.
Big. Day. Out!
for the second time i have been privileged enough to get to do volunteer work at the BDO, which means free entry. a more then fair trade if you ask me!
Yesterday was the day. woke up early than i wanted to but later than i should have, after being awake for about an hour in the middle of the night... on the "track work" bus, into Olympic Park, breakfast with some friends and then in to do my 4hr shift. Wristbanding over 18's. Not strenuous, but busy and monotonous. this year we shared the wristbanding space with "the wormhole" a dance space that was basically dark and had strobes and laser lights. great music. the other bonus about wristbanding is that you get to sit in the cool for the hottest hours of the day!
out of there and off to see Esky mojo (eskimo joe...). I always forget how much i love live music till i am there in it and can feel the beat reverberating in my chest. it's better than any drug. anyway. the blue stage and orange stage are right next to each other and bands alternate one side to the other so there is no lag time for set up between acts. I stayed in front of the stage Hilltop Hoods were about to be on, so i couldn't see esky mojo, but i did hear them sing "i don't understand the point of fingers".
Hilltop hoods were awesome, but the mosh pit was hectic. i am very thankful i made it out with all my limbs attached. i have a few random bruises and scratches, but no major injury. there were people being taken out over the top because they just couldn't handle it. within about 2 mins of them starting i was soaking wet, filthy dirty, and covered in other peoples sweat... LOVED IT!
Next was Dizzee Rascal, so i went to the loo and to get some water, then came back for Lily Allen. i was thinking about getting to the front but after the hoods i wasn't so sure. looking at the lily crowd on the big screen though, it was very calm... oh well. she was amazing. she has a huge power for someone so small!
I finally found my friends, which i had been trying to do for 4hrs, and we wandered around for the rest of the day fairly aimlessly. we handed around my worker wrist band so they could use the Staff loo's as the lines to use the others were horrendous!
for the rest of the day i saw a little bit of calvin harris, a little lady hawke, went on an awesome ride, bought 1/4 of a watermellon for a dollar, bought glow sticks and danced like a raver to muse, heard a little bit of grinspoon, went to the worm hole but it was closed down (news this morning says man in critical condition after drug overdose - that was probs why the worm hole was closed), went dancing in the jager cube - had my first jager bomb - an experience i plan on repeating!, then went to groove armada. they were awesome!
got back to my house at 1am, realised i had picked up the wrong spare key in the morning... drove to my mothers only to find that the screen door was locked so i couldn't break in to get my other spare key, so i slept in my car outside her house until she came out at 7:30 this morning and gave me my key!!! came home, finally showered!!!!! and now i want to sleep some more. my plans today are maybe hang out with some friends. if i nap now, that will work out really well... so i'm gonna take my dizzy little exhausted head for some time in lala land...
that is all.
for the second time i have been privileged enough to get to do volunteer work at the BDO, which means free entry. a more then fair trade if you ask me!
Yesterday was the day. woke up early than i wanted to but later than i should have, after being awake for about an hour in the middle of the night... on the "track work" bus, into Olympic Park, breakfast with some friends and then in to do my 4hr shift. Wristbanding over 18's. Not strenuous, but busy and monotonous. this year we shared the wristbanding space with "the wormhole" a dance space that was basically dark and had strobes and laser lights. great music. the other bonus about wristbanding is that you get to sit in the cool for the hottest hours of the day!
out of there and off to see Esky mojo (eskimo joe...). I always forget how much i love live music till i am there in it and can feel the beat reverberating in my chest. it's better than any drug. anyway. the blue stage and orange stage are right next to each other and bands alternate one side to the other so there is no lag time for set up between acts. I stayed in front of the stage Hilltop Hoods were about to be on, so i couldn't see esky mojo, but i did hear them sing "i don't understand the point of fingers".
Hilltop hoods were awesome, but the mosh pit was hectic. i am very thankful i made it out with all my limbs attached. i have a few random bruises and scratches, but no major injury. there were people being taken out over the top because they just couldn't handle it. within about 2 mins of them starting i was soaking wet, filthy dirty, and covered in other peoples sweat... LOVED IT!
Next was Dizzee Rascal, so i went to the loo and to get some water, then came back for Lily Allen. i was thinking about getting to the front but after the hoods i wasn't so sure. looking at the lily crowd on the big screen though, it was very calm... oh well. she was amazing. she has a huge power for someone so small!
I finally found my friends, which i had been trying to do for 4hrs, and we wandered around for the rest of the day fairly aimlessly. we handed around my worker wrist band so they could use the Staff loo's as the lines to use the others were horrendous!
for the rest of the day i saw a little bit of calvin harris, a little lady hawke, went on an awesome ride, bought 1/4 of a watermellon for a dollar, bought glow sticks and danced like a raver to muse, heard a little bit of grinspoon, went to the worm hole but it was closed down (news this morning says man in critical condition after drug overdose - that was probs why the worm hole was closed), went dancing in the jager cube - had my first jager bomb - an experience i plan on repeating!, then went to groove armada. they were awesome!
got back to my house at 1am, realised i had picked up the wrong spare key in the morning... drove to my mothers only to find that the screen door was locked so i couldn't break in to get my other spare key, so i slept in my car outside her house until she came out at 7:30 this morning and gave me my key!!! came home, finally showered!!!!! and now i want to sleep some more. my plans today are maybe hang out with some friends. if i nap now, that will work out really well... so i'm gonna take my dizzy little exhausted head for some time in lala land...
that is all.
20100118
fame! i'm gonna live forever...
i'm gonna learn how to fly..
well no, not really. i'm reading Lady Chatterley's Lover (can anyone tell me if it's worth persisting, this is my second try. so far it's less interesting that chaucers canterbury tales, which are a great read).
"Connie wondered a little over Clifford's blind, imperious necessity to become known: known, that is, to the vast amphorus world he did not himslef know, and of which he was uneasily afraid:"
this made me think of fame, being known in a world you may not even know yourself, especially child stars, so insulated for their own sake, so they can have a chance at normalcy. But what is normal about being cloistered. would famous kids be better off going to main stream schools in the public eye? they would have to be of good character though, because the media would burn them for the slightest indiscretion.
but what of adults? 'hard work and years of perserverance' kind of thing. the effort to BE known. then the small look into what it's really like - great popularity in a specific arena, still able to walk down the street, but unable to get across a room of gathered fans, everyone knowing who you are but forever wanting to know more - what do you keep for yourself? what do you keep OF yourself? do you remain the open book of the child star? do you let the media, the fans, see it all and hope that your character is good enough? or do you follow the P!nk school of thought - if they are going to hear it i want them to hear it from me. I think by being less enigmatic you become less interesting, less of a senstaion, but do you also lose part of yourself?
that is all...
well no, not really. i'm reading Lady Chatterley's Lover (can anyone tell me if it's worth persisting, this is my second try. so far it's less interesting that chaucers canterbury tales, which are a great read).
"Connie wondered a little over Clifford's blind, imperious necessity to become known: known, that is, to the vast amphorus world he did not himslef know, and of which he was uneasily afraid:"
this made me think of fame, being known in a world you may not even know yourself, especially child stars, so insulated for their own sake, so they can have a chance at normalcy. But what is normal about being cloistered. would famous kids be better off going to main stream schools in the public eye? they would have to be of good character though, because the media would burn them for the slightest indiscretion.
but what of adults? 'hard work and years of perserverance' kind of thing. the effort to BE known. then the small look into what it's really like - great popularity in a specific arena, still able to walk down the street, but unable to get across a room of gathered fans, everyone knowing who you are but forever wanting to know more - what do you keep for yourself? what do you keep OF yourself? do you remain the open book of the child star? do you let the media, the fans, see it all and hope that your character is good enough? or do you follow the P!nk school of thought - if they are going to hear it i want them to hear it from me. I think by being less enigmatic you become less interesting, less of a senstaion, but do you also lose part of yourself?
that is all...
20100105
remind me.
every now and then we all need reminding of what we mean. to people, to one person, to the world.
as i've been unpacking my life (yay!) i've found a few little bits and pieces that i have missed seeing day to day. this one i thought i would share with you. it is a note written to me, not by me, by an intelligent and independent young woman who i had the pleasure to lead. She was a natural outcast, considered by many to be snobbish or difficullt, and as a teenager, that hurt her. i didn't try to pigeon hole her, i just took each meeting and each emotion as it came. I was myself with her, more than many others i lead that year, because i trusted her to be able to handle me. whilst others found her hard to discipline, i found no need to discipline her at all.
"We can all be angels to one another. We can choose to obey the small stirring within, the little whispers that say 'go. ask. reach out. be an answer to someone's plea. you have a part to play. have faith.' we can decide to risk that he is indeed there, watching, caring, and cherishing us as we love and accept love. the world will be a better place for it and wherever they are the angels will dance" ~ Joan Wester Anderson ++ "Acept the things to which fate binds you and love the people with whom fate brings you together with but do so with all your heart." ~ Marcus Aelius Aurelius ++ I don't think you really need to be told that quote becoz you are the emodiment of the meaning as expressed through these words. Throughout gang show YOU have been MY angel showing me unconditional love and acceptance when everything seemed so dim. Through your spirit and light it gave me the permission, nay the comfortable arena, in which i could freely just be myself. A, I cannot express to you what you have done for me, nor can i explain what you mean to me. You showed me your whole heart, no questions asked. U are amazing, beautiful and more. You reached out to me and my time at gangshow was made better for it. Aye for an old fart you're pretty cool. and i guess angels must be dancing. <3 E.
that is all.
as i've been unpacking my life (yay!) i've found a few little bits and pieces that i have missed seeing day to day. this one i thought i would share with you. it is a note written to me, not by me, by an intelligent and independent young woman who i had the pleasure to lead. She was a natural outcast, considered by many to be snobbish or difficullt, and as a teenager, that hurt her. i didn't try to pigeon hole her, i just took each meeting and each emotion as it came. I was myself with her, more than many others i lead that year, because i trusted her to be able to handle me. whilst others found her hard to discipline, i found no need to discipline her at all.
"We can all be angels to one another. We can choose to obey the small stirring within, the little whispers that say 'go. ask. reach out. be an answer to someone's plea. you have a part to play. have faith.' we can decide to risk that he is indeed there, watching, caring, and cherishing us as we love and accept love. the world will be a better place for it and wherever they are the angels will dance" ~ Joan Wester Anderson ++ "Acept the things to which fate binds you and love the people with whom fate brings you together with but do so with all your heart." ~ Marcus Aelius Aurelius ++ I don't think you really need to be told that quote becoz you are the emodiment of the meaning as expressed through these words. Throughout gang show YOU have been MY angel showing me unconditional love and acceptance when everything seemed so dim. Through your spirit and light it gave me the permission, nay the comfortable arena, in which i could freely just be myself. A, I cannot express to you what you have done for me, nor can i explain what you mean to me. You showed me your whole heart, no questions asked. U are amazing, beautiful and more. You reached out to me and my time at gangshow was made better for it. Aye for an old fart you're pretty cool. and i guess angels must be dancing. <3 E.
that is all.
20100101
things to meet, people to do.
Dr Suess said it. Oh, the places you'll go! go read it, it's amazing how much deeper it is without the pictures, and with an adult mind in your head. it should be given to all high school students to read as a serious text. but i digress...
i have been saying "things to meet, people to do" for ages. in my head i always connect it with the above mentioned Dr Suess, and also, going places to meet people. recently i have found an entire community of friends online, and i have had to go nowhere to meet them. admittedly i have gone places and met a few, but they are not any more special to me than those i have not met. but there are some who stand out in my day, they know who they are. but just coz sometimes it helps... Jen, and Jen (one slightly more famous than the other) Chrystal (don't forget the H) Corx, Dax, Evil, hope and hope (again, one better known than the other) Abigail, Nat, RENEE!!!, bec and moni and a cindy or two (equally infamous in this case). if ur name isn't here, it doesn't mean i don't care, or i don't think ur funny, but these peeps, these friends stand out above the rest. these friends bring a smile to my day, a shoulder to my tears, and ear to my troubles and a laugh to my (sometimes lame) jokes. My life is richer because of you.
that is all.
i have been saying "things to meet, people to do" for ages. in my head i always connect it with the above mentioned Dr Suess, and also, going places to meet people. recently i have found an entire community of friends online, and i have had to go nowhere to meet them. admittedly i have gone places and met a few, but they are not any more special to me than those i have not met. but there are some who stand out in my day, they know who they are. but just coz sometimes it helps... Jen, and Jen (one slightly more famous than the other) Chrystal (don't forget the H) Corx, Dax, Evil, hope and hope (again, one better known than the other) Abigail, Nat, RENEE!!!, bec and moni and a cindy or two (equally infamous in this case). if ur name isn't here, it doesn't mean i don't care, or i don't think ur funny, but these peeps, these friends stand out above the rest. these friends bring a smile to my day, a shoulder to my tears, and ear to my troubles and a laugh to my (sometimes lame) jokes. My life is richer because of you.
that is all.
i have a hip hugging laundry basket
and a slight headache. let me take something for it and get right back to you.
so, where was i. oh yeah, headache. brought on in no small part by dehydration and probably from a bit of exhaustion, but i can guarantee it's not a hangover. or if it is it's a day late...
yesterday was NYE. Sydney is an amazing place to be on NYE because we have a beautiful harbour to sit around, and an amazing bridge, and we have some of the best fireworks i have ever seen, and i have seen plenty of fireworks, including NYC on NYE 2003.
i left home at 8am on NYE to head to the city to stake out my plot of land for maximum viewing pleasure. i was saving space for what would eventually be 7 of us, but was planned for a fluctuating 5. picture a harbour, now make it prettier, add friends and friendly strangers, some sun, some fun and you have NYE to a tee. in the 19 hours i was out i peed once, which is a skill well worth having when it's a 20min queue for port-a-loo's. i ate almost consistently, but no real meals were had, i went from being stretched out and spacious to sitting upright and perhaps just a little cramped. by the time the 9pm fireworks started i had my family and friends with me, and i had also met two lovely random strangers who became part of our party. Sydney does countdown fireworks, a couple of red bursts with 10 mins to go, then a little red shower from the bridge at 5 mins, and even a count down projected on the bridge. the 9pm (family) fireworks were good, but showed nothing of the spectacular that was to come. 10pm, one cracker. 11pm, another cracker, 11:30, a couple. then 15 mins, 10 mins, 5 mins, and an awesome gold pulsing explosion from one of the buildings across the harbour for the countdown. then about 15 mins of fire works, choreographed to music, ebbing and flowing, pulsing and growing, from the top of the bridge, the middle of the bridge, falling from the road base of the bridge, all along the full length, in canon and all at once, from 4 barges in the harbour (there were more, but i could see 4).
then the half an hour sit around and wait for the crowd to thin a little, the 30 odd min walk to the nearest train that we won't have to wait an hour to get onto, then the 15 train home. finally got home at 3am, having been out of the house for 19 hours. i had a shower and fell into bed. i have so many photo's and one story that ran all day to share.
i was sitting on a sandstone wall of a little bay that has been enclosed as a swimming hole. when i arrived in the morning the tide was high, the pool was full. the tide spent about the next 4 hours going down, leaving the pool as an enclosed sand pit essentially. high tide was due again at 9pm. people kept going to sit on the sand... we warned every single person that walked past us to get onto the beach that the tide would come up and they would get wet. most didn't listen, and from about 6pm we laughed as we watched them all creap further and further away from the rising water. it was just too funny, there were floating shoes, wet tripods, expensive camera's held aloft. we laughed every time a wave crashed over the break. we had warned them all and they hadn't listened. it was higlhy entertaining for those of us who had arrived at9am or earlier to get good spots with a clear view.
Happy New Year
that is all.
so, where was i. oh yeah, headache. brought on in no small part by dehydration and probably from a bit of exhaustion, but i can guarantee it's not a hangover. or if it is it's a day late...
yesterday was NYE. Sydney is an amazing place to be on NYE because we have a beautiful harbour to sit around, and an amazing bridge, and we have some of the best fireworks i have ever seen, and i have seen plenty of fireworks, including NYC on NYE 2003.
i left home at 8am on NYE to head to the city to stake out my plot of land for maximum viewing pleasure. i was saving space for what would eventually be 7 of us, but was planned for a fluctuating 5. picture a harbour, now make it prettier, add friends and friendly strangers, some sun, some fun and you have NYE to a tee. in the 19 hours i was out i peed once, which is a skill well worth having when it's a 20min queue for port-a-loo's. i ate almost consistently, but no real meals were had, i went from being stretched out and spacious to sitting upright and perhaps just a little cramped. by the time the 9pm fireworks started i had my family and friends with me, and i had also met two lovely random strangers who became part of our party. Sydney does countdown fireworks, a couple of red bursts with 10 mins to go, then a little red shower from the bridge at 5 mins, and even a count down projected on the bridge. the 9pm (family) fireworks were good, but showed nothing of the spectacular that was to come. 10pm, one cracker. 11pm, another cracker, 11:30, a couple. then 15 mins, 10 mins, 5 mins, and an awesome gold pulsing explosion from one of the buildings across the harbour for the countdown. then about 15 mins of fire works, choreographed to music, ebbing and flowing, pulsing and growing, from the top of the bridge, the middle of the bridge, falling from the road base of the bridge, all along the full length, in canon and all at once, from 4 barges in the harbour (there were more, but i could see 4).
then the half an hour sit around and wait for the crowd to thin a little, the 30 odd min walk to the nearest train that we won't have to wait an hour to get onto, then the 15 train home. finally got home at 3am, having been out of the house for 19 hours. i had a shower and fell into bed. i have so many photo's and one story that ran all day to share.
i was sitting on a sandstone wall of a little bay that has been enclosed as a swimming hole. when i arrived in the morning the tide was high, the pool was full. the tide spent about the next 4 hours going down, leaving the pool as an enclosed sand pit essentially. high tide was due again at 9pm. people kept going to sit on the sand... we warned every single person that walked past us to get onto the beach that the tide would come up and they would get wet. most didn't listen, and from about 6pm we laughed as we watched them all creap further and further away from the rising water. it was just too funny, there were floating shoes, wet tripods, expensive camera's held aloft. we laughed every time a wave crashed over the break. we had warned them all and they hadn't listened. it was higlhy entertaining for those of us who had arrived at9am or earlier to get good spots with a clear view.
Happy New Year
that is all.
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