| Hacked |
[Jan. 8th, 2008|10:03 pm] |
My journal was hacked. Why, I don't know.
Whoever you are, I hope you're happy with your few minutes of fame in my limelight.
For anyone who managed to come across the short-lived journal entry above, my apologies you had to witness some sad persons' attempt to slander me. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 19th, 2007|12:37 am] |
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It never ceases to amaze me, the cocoons we weave. We create these protective covers, and all the while believe ourselves to be growing into bigger, better creatures as we make our way in the world. We never stop to think of the blinding dazzle of sunlight when we finally emerge, nor the frighteningly short life-span spent with our senses tingling, amongst the coloured flowers.
Not the awful truth of what is waiting there to greet us.
Ourselves, though very much changed.
And yet, this is me.
I used to think I was lazy.
And then I found myself working a job, maintaining 40 hours or over while doing a full-time uni degree, and one day, I thought to myself:
But, do you feel lazy?
No. Just tired. And a little sad.
I used to think I was ugly.
And then one day I saw myself in the eyes of someone else, and I realised that I was committing that age-old error of vanity:
Ugliness would entitle me to so many things. So many what-ifs and backdoors, and loopholes.
But I'm not ugly. Not all of me. There are parts that are, that over time have grown bitter with disappointment and spoiled values.
But there is more. And it's not going to go anywhere.
Because what I feel there, has always been. From the moment I knew myself, it's been there.
This is me.
You can try to suppress it. You can ignore it, or laugh at it, or call it fanciful.
But my dreams are what make me happy.
They're the foundation I've built my life on.
The cocoon feels safe in times when you're left in the rain with nothing but empty hands.
And whether or not out there approves, or is compatible, or looks back in anger - - -
It's still going to end on the same page.
We were always going to end up here.
Because running never did anything but keep me distracted from the real issues.
Issues. And Tissues. And tears.
Oh, I've had them all.
They say that everyone has a breaking point.
I proved it, and broke.
But what they forget to tell you is, that's never where it ends.
Nothing defines you better or worse than your faults and failures.
But our sucesses are just as important. Our little strengths and victories along the way.
However small.
Even one step forward is progess.
It's how they used to get to places, back in the days when strangers still smiled at old ladies. |
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| ARGH! |
[Mar. 14th, 2007|10:42 pm] |
I have compyness!
I am actually online. For the first time in over nine months, I have a computer connected to the internet in a room in a house, in a city.
I feel so accomplished.
Like there are a thousand opportunities for me to seek out.
I've felt so isolated from so many people I love, whom I only really have access to through the net.
It's nice to be back.
Lets hope, for good. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 14th, 2007|02:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cranky | ] |
Computer should be in working order tomorrow. I think to celebrate, I'll feed it chocolate.
I've reached the conclusion that I've become a manipulative and twisted version of my former self.
Without realising it.
With that in mind, it's probably a good thing I'm doomed to walk the earth alone forever.
Kinda like the Hulk.
And Drew Barrymore.
Before she married Adam Sandler and found happiness.
Lucky bitch. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 27th, 2007|11:37 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  calm | ] |
Attended my first lecture of the uni year this morning at nine, and now am burning time until my tutorial at 4.
I really should have organised my timetable a little better, but in a way it's nice to just slow down a few paces.
I've been working almost every day the last few months, but have cut my hours down now that uni is back. It's weird, because now it feels like uni is a kind of holiday. Everyone keeps telling me to slow down, but in a way, I find a kind of relief in the crazy hours and long work days. If you're doing three 11 hour shifts in a row, you're not stopping to think about where you are, or where you're going.
Had cocktail training on Sunday with Rachael, so in theory should now know how to make a dozen drinks or so. I say in theory, because after countless tasteings and a couple of sneaky double vodka cranberries from a manager, it got a little messy. It's a strange feeling to be in a room full of pissed coworkers at 8.30 at night. Lends a kind of eerie 'Christmas Party' tone to the whole thing, only there was no dancing and certainly no falling down three flights of stairs. Certainly an improvement for me.
Our new cellar man was singing my praises to the table while I was at the bar, and we have a date tomorrow. At least, I think it's a date.
I just hope he doesn't turn out to be married, like last time. I don't think I have it in me to go through that again, and certainly not so soon after. I'm still technically hating men at this stage. He's 30, which is only 8 years difference this time, instead of 14. And I know alot of unmarried 30 year olds. We'll see.
New house is wonderful, new room is larger and also wonderful, despite the fact haven't been home long enough to unpack it properly. New housemates and house kitties are equally wonderful, I feel very much at home in my new surroundings.
And we have a gorgeous lilac bathtub and toilet. And wooden floor boards.
Now I need only work out how to attach things to my walls without peeling the paint off to be well and truely settled.
Tis a very good start to the year, methinks.
Found a hilarious comic from last week: http://www.asofterworld.com/soft_feb16_2007.htm
Snicker. |
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| scatter |
[Jan. 7th, 2007|08:22 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  drained | ] |
NYE was a rather evenful evening, starting with work at 4 pm, and finishing shift in the wee hours.
Can't actually remember getting home.
Can't actually remember much, to be honest.
Had a drink thrown on me by a disgruntled patron, who then pegged a glass at another work mate, hitting her in the forehead.
Luckily, we'd swapped to plastic.
Security were bloody useless, didn't even catch the guy, and since I got a chill after being soaked through, I've since developed a cough and have lost my voice.
I curse the bastard with impotence.
Having the fireworks going off all around me was amazing. At 12 they shut the bar and we all wondered outside to watch the bridge go up, champagne glasses in hand.
They'd closed the street, so we stood there, and turned around in slow circles watching the differnt colours shoot off from the skyscraper rooves, and across the harbour. Hearing the roar of so many voices raised in wonder was so surreal.
There was a fight between a customer and one of our bouncers, which resulted in the guy on the ground bleeding profusely after kicking in one of our windows.
It all happened at my feet just about, but I managed to not notice a thing until after the fact.
It makes me wonder, sometimes.
What sort of person I am becoming.
You never know until you're put in a situation, exactly who you are in that scene.
When someone is lying in a pool of blood not 2 meters away from me, I'm the kind of person too distracted by fireworks to even cast a glance behind me.
I think this place has finally gotten to me. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 25th, 2006|08:33 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  shocked | ] |
There is no Christmas tree in my parents' house.
But there's food.
And chocolate.
And a glowing wood fire overlooking a misty mountain.
And a dog who growls at me every time I walk past.
It's good to be home.
I brought a bus ticket on a whim Saturday night. I realised I couldn't quite face the idea of spending christmas alone in Sydney without so much as a room of my own [I'm renting it out for a week as a favour to some friends of an ex housemate].
Which means, my room is positively spotless at the moment, and I have clean sheets on my bed, so I hope they appreciate it!
Took the bus down to Canberra yesterday with Glen, and was picked up by my mum at Jolimont. We drove down the coast in the dark and looked at the Christmas lights.
Being back here is like coming into another time.
The air is taught with the scent of the mountains, and it surrounds you like a veil, wraps you up until you feel that you'll never be cold again. There's no place like it.
My sister almost died on Friday night.
She lost her baby.
The operation was a success.
We didn't lose her.
This year has brought so much death, I realised last night. I've lost alot of people dear to me.
But my sister. Losing her. I don't think I'd come back from that.
I doubt I'd want to. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 21st, 2006|01:10 am] |
"Are there any new men in your life?"
The fact that this is the fourth time this week someone has asked this of me probably has something to do with the fact I felt like throttling them.
Yes, there are plently new men in my life. In fact, I meet more every day.
I just don't sleep with any of them.
Why is that so hard for people to accept.
I'm not interested, and never have been, of jumping someone I barely know.
Nor even the ones I do know, most of the time.
It just doesn't work that way for me.
/End rant.
It's looking like this will be my first Christmas spent away from a family environment.
Not that my family were ever that big on Christmas.
We tend to be pretty cynical, as a rule.
But it does make you think.
Work's going to be closed.
What will I do with myself?
Maybe I should bake a roast.
Or do a Bridgit Jones, and get shitfaced in my PJs listening to music.
Hmmm. Difficult. Very difficult. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 19th, 2006|12:17 am] |
There is something calming about the city at night.
The wind rustles the tree leaves constantly, and there's an emptiness in the silence broken only by the sound of the occasional taxi passing up from the beach.
On Mondays, there are few calls from drunk pedestrians bubbling up from the footpath, and the neighbours have learnt the art of quiet living.
I like it here.
I like that I can see the ocean from my balcony, and the city is only a short bus ride away.
Sometimes I struggle with all of this.
It's overwhelming to be out in the world every day.
To deal with bank accounts, and bills.
To recieve mail, and remember what the date is.
Being isolated on a property teaches you to interact with the world on your own time.
Things wait for you when you're unreachable.
Here, now, I wait for the world.
Part of me feels like I'm drifting. That I'm unfocused.
Maybe that's whats keeping me up at night.
Maybe not.
Worked a 12 1/2 hour shift on Friday night, and another 5 hours on Sunday. Didn't sleep until Sunday night, and only a few hours at that.
Spent Saturday night with my housemates Kat and Andy saying goodbye to the Irish traveller. He left today to fly back home.
His absence probobly contributes to the silence now.
When you're awake for three days, it all becomes one. Time becomes compleately relative, and moves at different speeds.
The hours between 4 and 7 am are the strangest.
I don't know what I'm waiting for, but it seems that whatever it is, it isn't sleep.
Lately, I feel a bit like Layla in the movie Buffalo 66.
Swept out of what you have grown used to, finding yourself living a different life, to someone elses rules.
And before you know it, you're falling hopelessly in love with the feeling it brings.
It's quite often lately that I've found my life composed of random events, surreal and fleeting. I'm living in the moment, and every minute there's the potential for something new to present itself.
This is what they talk about.
The siren song of the city lights.
The fast cars, the dark streets and the strange men.
Girl, It's all here if you want it.
All you gotta do, is close your eyes, hold your breath and count to fifty. |
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| how strange |
[Dec. 3rd, 2006|07:43 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cynical | ] |
I heard the weirdest phrase today.
'Petty guilt'.
Kind of like petty theft, only without the glamour.
What. On. Earth. |
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