On Public Health

Yesterday started with a morning fart. I doesn't often happen, but when I'm alone in bed it's fairly soothing to roll over onto my back and let out the ripper that's been brewing. But wait, there was more... I had to choke it off very quickly as the possibility of the worst of all fart-related things became evident - the follow-through. So at 5am I am making a dash to the bathroom with my cheeks clenched and my face drained of all colour.

This continues with amazing regularity. Then I start to vomit. Being a reasonably terrible binge boozer (this is definitely not a factor in this particular illness) I have a mental list of the absolute worst things to vomit. Bread and eggs have been the winners for years, but yesterday saw a new entrant blitz the ranks and come straight out at the top. Camembert. How much did I regret that snack before bed?

So by 11am I have a bucket beside the bed and I can barely move anymore. I gave in and called a friend to take me to the hospital.

It was about an hour and a half wait, which I thought would be longer. The waiting room has about twenty chairs that are plastic moulded seats joined together on bars. Try sitting on those suckers when all you think you can do is lay down and die. So I curled up on the floor. Finally they noticed me there and offered me a bed.

Eventually I was told that I needed to be put on a drip to replace my fluid. So I lay there going in and out of consciousness for a while. I recall waking up at one point extremely embarrassed that I'd drooled on the pillow, but most of it's a haze.

The amazing thing, though, is that I didn't have to fork out for this. I mean, you get hit in your taxes, but on the day I didn't have to pay a thing. I think that's fantastic. In the scheme of things, getting a litre of fluid pumped into your veins and having people look after you isn't that big a deal, but it still all costs money. I am amazed. What a great thing.

Quote of the Day

"Vic is better than sleep."

Oh cute. Insert warm fuzzy feeling.

As promised, another fucking meme.

Yesterday's one-word meme was hard. I hate not being able to explain myself (yes, I'm doing it now, I know). So I decided that there has to be a longer version to the questions.

So the new constraint is: answer the questions (well, elaborate on the previous answers) in five sentences. No more, no less.

Since there's thirty-four questions I decided to pick out seven. I don't have the available time or attention span to write five sentences about thirty-four things. Randomly with no memory of what questions were on the thing at all, I picked seven numbers and wrote them down, just for fun. They are my questions to talk about, no matter what.

17. One of your wish list items: dick
I'm embracing a boyish identity. I've always been pretty masculine and frankly I want a dick. This doesn't mean I want one full time, but I'd like the option. I want to be able to present myself as male (depending a lot on the social situation). And no, it isn't because I want to pee standing up.

4. Your mother/stepmother: indifferent
Indifferent isn't the right word to describe her. It's my feeling toward her at this point. She rings up to talk about the weather. She very rarely discusses feelings or encourages discussion of feelings. When she expresses disapproval it can be very overpowering so mostly I'd rather stay away.

29. What are you doing at the moment?: breathing
When you strip it down to basics, you're either breathing or you're not. I'm not dead. I'm not being cremated as I blog, and I'm certainly not burning in hell for the multitude of sins I have committed. All systems seem to be fuctioning normally, so I'm not complaining. What a shit of a question.

25. Your mood: horny
All this exploring identity stuff has led me to be more aware, but also more intrigued by, my sexuality and gender definitions. I think about presenting myself as male and dammit if it doesn't make me horny. I think about having a dick and dammit, I'm still horny. The frequency of horniness has been escalating lately into an almost constant hum. Apart from the frustration, this may be a good thing.

3. Your hair: hathair
I used to wear a cap everywhere. I'm not as big a fan of them now, since I actually like the way my hair is these days and don't feel I have to hide it. Since the morning job involves food, I get to wear a cool black and purple cap. I'm one of those people that caps work well on, so I don't mind at all. Until I have to take it off.

8. Your favorite drink: beer
Last Friday evening I ambled out onto my front porch with a stubbie in my hand. I had a blue trucker singlet on and a pair of jeans. Gayman and a few other friends were there. One friend just looked at me and said Oh my god, butch moment number thirty-six!. So Gayman pipes up with (in typical snide Gayman fashion) - Yeah, in the last hour!

11.
This is a pearler. How many of us who've done this meme realised that there was no number eleven? How reliant on copy and paste have we all become? I know that was all I did, then replaced the previous answers with my own. These sort of shortcuts are so fucking handy, but breed so much laziness, not that I should complain because I'm guilty of it myself.


There. Go to.

Not for Old Knudsen

Yes, it's another fucking Meme. People like Old Knudsen who don't like them can fuck off and get an antidote to this special brand of internet virus. Be warned. There will be another tomorrow. So don't look if you can't handle it.

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

No.
Explanations.

Not as easy as you might think...

1. Yourself: tired

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: scared

3. Your hair: hathair

4. Your mother/stepmother: indifferent

5. Your dog: nonexistant

6. Your favorite item: gel

7. Your dream last night: forgotten

8. Your favorite drink: beer

9. Your dream car: ute

10. The room you are in: studio

12. Your fear: embarrassment

13. What you want to be in 10 years: me

14. Who you hung out with last night: girl

15. What you're not: bagpipist

16. Muffin: depends

17: One of your wish list items: dick

18: Time: none

19. The last thing you did: yawn

20. What you are wearing: socks

21. Your favorite weather: warm

22. Your favorite book: fiction

23. The last thing you ate: curry

24. Your life: hectic

25. Your mood: horny

26. Your best friend(S): occupied

27. What are you thinking about right now? shagging

28. Your car: subaru

29. What are you doing at the moment?: breathing

30. Your summer: gone

31. Your relationship status: semisingle

32. What is on your TV?: speakers

33. What is the weather like?: fuckingcold

34. When is the last time you laughed?: today

Seperated at birth?

The lovely Queen of Everything Martini, Ms. Hedonistic Pleasureseeker posted this image of the carnage left by her daughter. Why have I stolen it to post here? Notice the kitty in the top right... And the look at the picture (taken some time ago, admittedly) below. I think my cat Juno may have a long lost twin.

Monday Melee

Bugger me, is it time for the Monday Melee already? One more week down.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Not being organised. Not having things tidy and accessible. It causes me to go into a depressive state. I can handle mess to a certain extent and then I just snap, and it has to be cleaned and tidied now.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Banquets at the local Chinese Restaurant. Last night's dinner gave us seven dishes at $15.50 a head. The minimum was four people, we had ten. No more on the dishes, but they got to charge us per head for the same amount. We should have asked fro two banquets for four poeple. But that would be stupid. It's just blatant profiteering on the restaurant's part and it sucks.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
The fact that it's Monday again already. Crap answer, but deal with it.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
Gayman, for hanging out my enormous load of washing that consisted mostly of socks and undies. For me, it's the most painful of all washing hanging experiences so I was glad to pass it on.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
My soup. I have a little personal thing that goes with soup - I have to share it. I make up a huge pot and then give most of it away. It's a friendly thing and I like to be able to give something I made to people I love.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
I'm shallow and horny as all hell today. I wish for more sex.

Road Trip Pending

The mental list goes:

1. Toothbrush
2. Frisbee
3. Suit (for ball dance thingy I'm going to)
4. Clothes for tomorrow
5. Something to sleep in.

I think I have it covered.

Oh crap. Camera.

Censored.

Mike and Kat are currently in Vietnam and have informed me that they are blocked from reading my blog. They can't access Dive's blog either.

I did a little looking on Google. Only a little, too much has the potential to knock me out of the real world for hours with fifteen different windows open on fifteen different tangents unrelated to the original topic. Anyway I came across this from an article:

The regulations forbid "data that can affect national security, social order, and safety or information that is not appropriate to the culture, morality, and traditional customs of the Vietnamese people."

I occasionally post pictures of naked women and talk about being gay. Okay. But Dive posts pictures of Gargoyles and Spice Racks. What gives?

Five tips.

Welcome to my new housemate, Gayman. Here are five tips to tell if he's moved in with you:

1. You have a house plant sprouting from every half-bare surface.

2. There are roughly twice as many body products in the shower than I'd ever contemplate owning.

3. Boutique teas dominate the coffee cupboard.

4. Mother calls at 10:30pm to make sure everything is all right.

5. Belinda Carlisle's Summer Rain gets played with regularity.

Call for names

Three of us were walking home after a random night out. This is what we found in a park on the way. Names, anyone?

Is it Monday again?

Monday Melee means that yes, indeed, Monday has plopped into my lap once again.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Washing. Yes, it's nice to have it all done but the process pisses me off. My quote to a friend (in jest) this weekend: I hate it. I need a wife.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
The new shopping centre in town. It opened Thursday to much hype and really just looks and feels like any other new shopping centre. It has the same shops that any other shopping centre has and really isn't that big. The really sad thing? It holds the first ever escalator that this town has seen.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Having sore shoulders and not having anyone to massage them.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
The City Band director, for nominating me for the committee. Now I've got a bit more say in what goes on.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I got my eyebrows waxed after leaving it for far too long yet again, and christ it makes a difference.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
School holidays, so I can have some spare time.

Answer to a challenge

I had my new flamingly gay flatmate take this shot. GayMan, would you be able to take some photos for me? Bad idea. Half an hour of "ooh that's hot" and "honey, you look evil in that one" later I was totally sick of the idea and should have gone with Dive's method of a self-timer shot from on top of the television.

Seeing the light

Student quote of the day:

"Oh hey, that's really easy since I actually practised it."

Pearls of wisdom for audience members

When requesting a song from the band, just say "play my song", or "it goes something like this" then hum a few bars! We musicians have a chip implanted in our heads with an unlimited database with the favorite
tunes of every patron who ever walked into a bar & all songs ever recorded, so feel free to be vague, we love the challenge.

If we tell you that we do not remember exactly what tune you want, we're only kidding. Bands know every song ever recorded, so keep humming. Hum harder if need be... it helps jog the memory.

If a band tells you they do not know a song you want to hear, they either forgot that they know the tune or they are just putting you on. Try singing a few words for the band. Any words.

If one member halfway knows part of a chorus, the rest of the band will instantly learn the entire song by osmosis. Knowing this, if the band still claims not to know your song, it helps to just keep requesting the same song every time there is a break.

It also helps to scream your request from across the room several times per set followed by the phrases, "AW COME ON!" and, "YOU SUCK!" Exaggerated hand gestures expressing disapproval from the dance floor are a big help as well, such as the thumbs down or your middle finger. Put-downs are the best way to jog a band's memory. This instantly promotes you to the status of "Personal Friend Of The Band."

Entertainers are notorious fakers & jokesters and never really prepare for their shows. They simply walk on stage with no prior thought to what they will do once they arrive. An entertainer's job is so easy, even a
monkey could do it, so don't let them off the hook easily. Your request is all that matters.

If a metal band had played at the club a few weeks ago, the next band that follows will automatically know every metal tune the previous band ever played, even if the current band is a blues or country band. It's the law.

Feel free to yell AC/DC or SLAYER!! to a band that plays strictly originals or jazz for example. Conversely, Deadheads may yell for Grateful Dead tunes at a dance or metal band.

IMPORTANT

When an entertainer leans over to hear you better, grab his or her head in both hands and yell directly into their ear, while holding their head securely so they cannot pull away. This will be taken as an invitation to a friendly & playful game of tug of war between their head and your hands.

Don't give up! Hang on until the singer or guitar player submits. Drummers are often safe from this fun game since they usually sit in the back, protected by the guitar players. Keyboard players are protected
by their instrument, & only play the game when tricked into coming out from behind their keyboards. Though difficult to get them to play, it's not impossible, so keep trying. They're especially vulnerable during the break between songs.

TALKING WITH THE BAND

The best time to discuss anything with the band in any meaningful way is in the middle of a song when all members are singing at the same time (such as a multi harmony part). Our hearing is so advanced that we can pick out your tiny voice from the megawatt wall of sound blasting all around us. Musicians are expert lip readers too. If a musician does not reply to your question or comment during a tune, it's because they didn't get a good look at your mouth in order to read your lips. Simply continue to scream
your request & be sure to overemphasise the words with your lips. This helps immensely. Don't be fooled.

Singers have the innate ability to answer questions & sing at the same time. If the singer doesn't answer your questions immediately, regardless of how stupid the question may seem, it's because they are
purposely ignoring you. If this happens, immediately cop an attitude. We love this.

HELPING THE BAND

If you inform the band that you are a singer, the band will appreciate your help with the next few tunes, or however long you can remain standing on stage. Just pretend you're in a Karaoke bar. Simply feel free to walk up on stage & join in. By the way, the drunker you are, the better you sound & the louder you should sing.

If by chance you fall off the stage, be sure to crawl back up & attempt to sing harmony. Keep in mind that nothing assists the band more than outrageous dancing, third & fourth part harmonies, or a tambourine
played out of tempo.

Try the cow bell, they love the challenge. The band always needs the help & will take this as a compliment.

VERY IMPORTANT

Remember to allow enough time to make it from the stage to the bathroom in case of an emergency. On stage accidents are bad form. The band will carry on.

BONUS TIP

As a last resort, wait until the band takes a break and then get on stage and start playing their instruments. They love this. Even if you are ejected from the club, you can rest assured in the fact that you have successfully completed your audition. The band will call you immediately the following day to offer you a position.

The Monday Melee

Monday Melee time! The weekend is officially pronounced dead. Funeral is tomorrow, party is afterwards, supper provided.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Kids that don't practise. You can't get away with winging it, you little shits. And like "I had no time" is a good excuse. Welcome to life, buddy. But you get your meals cooked for you, your washing done and you get cleaned up after.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Cookie Dough KitKat bars. They sound fantastic. They're not.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Doing the early fruit market shift, only because I can't slog into a bottle of wine of an evening/night and get away with it any more.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
My friend for giving me her washing machine out of storage, when she found out mine was unfixable. When I offered her money, she said no. So I'm cooking dinner for her tonight in thanks.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I'm really happy at the moment. I'm so far from the depression of two years ago that I feel like the world's not just my oyster but I'm chewing it.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
I don't know. Maybe a few extra hours sleep at night with no sacrifice to the content of the day?

Road Trip Part Six: Something for Kate

Road Trip Part Five: Wildlife, aka the "Make Mike Jealous" Post

First, I saw a Wedge-tailed Eagle. I stopped and watched for a while, but couldn't get any photos as it was too far away.

Then I nearly run over this big sucker:



This goanna was mighty pissed off that I disturbed his gravel tanning. Stopped his stalking away every now and then to look back at me and hiss.

Coming down the cutting pictured in the last post, actually just after I took that shot, a shadow passed over and I look up to see not one, but two Wedge-tails. They were closer, but my shots were crap.

Unfortunatley where there's roads, there's roadkill. I've never seen a wild wombat before. Even if it's dead.



More eagles not long after. Not one, not two, but five. They were all circling and almost looked like they were chasing each other around. Doing manoeuvres. I did get some clear shots, but they're pretty distant looking, so I'm not going to bother posting them.



Ok. This guy isn't wild. But he was so cool. He had a mouth ful of grass and dropped some on me reaching out to see who I was.

As if there hasn't been enough eagle jealousy for Mike in this post, but I had one one more eagle encounter. Wish you were there, Mike and Kat. I was driving along (as you do on a road trip) with a hill on my right about ten metres away. In my peripheral vision I see movement. Two Wedge-tails, level with my drivers side window and in between the hill and my car. I startled them so they started to take off. They were HUGE. I couldn't believe it! Their legs were so powerful. They weren't too graceful taking off but got away soon enough.

Road Trip Part Four: Encounters with Roads

I got parked in by a bunch of bikers while having breakfast. I had to go up and ask them who owned the BMW and could he please move it. He even felt the need to pilot me out of my space. Lovely, but I can drive, mate. I just didn't want to bust up the bike you so arrogantly placed right near my bumper.


I will own one of these one day. Cliche? Like I give a shit.

And then I'm off on the journey that will take me over 200km of dirt roads in varying states of repair. Many were along steep cuttings with evidence (huge fricking chunks of it) of rock falls, nearly all were narrow and winding, and none had any guard rails. Oh, and the occasional log truck. And yep, I loved every damn minute of it.

Except for the bit where I was going straight for a rare stretch, humming along, up over a rise and fuck there's a bend. Fighting the car out of fishtails for a good hundred metres settled me down a bit!

The sign cracks me up. The road was actually better after this point:



The views were incredible, everywhere.

Road Trip Part Three: Note To Self

Attn: Vic

A few matters need to be addressed before further "swag in back of car" camping trips are to be permitted.

1. Ensure adequate provision of toilet paper and/or tissues. "I forgot to bring any" is not an excuse.

2. "Here will do" is only permissible in relation to the positioning of the parked car when said car is level, and near shelter. The angle of the car is essential - no matter how often you may think you're tired enough to sleep through, you'll prove yourself wrong.


And here's where I woke up:

Road Trip Part Two: Gloucester

Driving here:

Stopping to look here:

Stopping in the middle of the road to take a picture of the pretty hill here:

Known as base camp for the Barrington Tops, this little town is incredibly pretty. The posts since my desk pic have all been written at a pub, on paper with a pen that I borrowed from the bar. I've watched the sun go down from the beer garden and just had a nice relaxing evening.

There's two pubs on the main street and when the girl at the bar of the one I'm at was asked when this particular one closed, she answered: "Well the other one has a band on tonight, we had ours last night. So generally we try to close early so we can head on down to have a listen." Gold.

Road Trip Part One: Side Excursion for Dive

I decided I should take a wandering route rather than highway driving. Part of the point of getting away was to actually get out and drive for a while. Point and push just doesn't do it for me.

So my route led me toward Gostwyck Chapel. This cute little ivy-covered church in the middle of flipping nowhere has so many moods. I thought it might be showing the first touches of autumn, but it's still clothed in green, and the afternoon sun just lit it up nicely.

Just around the corner, and the real reason I dedicate this post to Dive, is the Deargee Woolshed. It was built in 1872, which doesn't seem that old until you consider that the First Fleet landed in 1788. That means it's been around for more than half our country's written history.

Note the fact that some poor bugger got bogged pretty nastily! This would be a fantstic spot for a party. Crank up the bush band and get out the beer and rum!

Cut and Colour

It's been a while since I got the last haircut. I don't often self-pamper and I find used to find salons to be foreign, uncomfortable zones of girliness that I'd stick away from as much as possible. I've come to enjoy looking and feeling good, meaning that I've started to embrace the salon thing. The idea of being pampered is also pretty damn foreign and I find it hard to take, though it is nice. I'm getting used to it.

My hair grows thick and quite quickly - according to my hairdresser it is "aggressive". It certainly asserts itself very forcefully and I decided to get it hacked off again this week end in order to conrol it's unruly behaviour. I was at the point of being past being glad to wear a hat and into the zone of getting the shits at the pieces that curled around the edges.

So Saturday morning at the hairdressers - hung over as per usual for a Saturday morning - and I told my hairdresser that I wanted blonde tips. We went even shorter with the cut than last time, which is okay for budget considerations but will take a while to get used to...

Proceeding on to the colouring - bleaching really, but this is where the story get's good. She combed the goop lightly through the top and left me with three crap magazines for forty-five minutes. I mean, thanks. I really wanted to read Girlfriend magazine. I really needed to know what my bikini personality is. I really wanted to know how to snag my favourite teenage boy crush of the moment ("Talk to him and let him know your feelings" was the advice).

She comes and checks progress and sets me off for another fifteen minute date with the heater thingy, and no magazine change. Reason: We don't want it to be yellow.

So allocated hell waiting period ends and young apprentice chicky washes my hair out. A feeling of foreboding starts to creep in when the other apprentice crowds over to the basin. Feeling gets very much worse when second apprentice asks my hairdresser - "What are you going to do?". I try to allay my fears with thoughts of "Maybe these people are learning, and need to ask questions like that"...

Bear in mind that I can't see any of this - I've got my head wedged in a basin and my legs pointed skywards on the recliner chair, not to mention the bitch of a hangover forcing me to squint... Hairdresser drops what she's doing and comes over to help. She abruptly disappeared and the two apprentices cleared out also. I took the opportunity to pull a bit of my hair into visual range. Fuck. It's bright. It's yellow. Okay. Hairdresser scurries out with a bowl of goop, paints it on and then sentences me to my magazine hell for another fifteen minutes without any explanation. Just a "Do you still have a headache? Sorry, we'll get you out of here soon."

It turns out that the original bleach goop just soaked all the way through and also went yellow. So they painted a colour over it to tone it down. Apparently the colour over it to tone it down. Apparently the colour will wash out over time, leaving the yellow mop. It doesn't look so bad now, and they didn't charge me at all, so even though I wasted an entire morning I feel I came out alright in the end.

On my desk

Finally, I,ve bought a digital camera so I can participate in assignments set by fellow bloggers (as well as take pictures of normal life). Feel special, Dive.

Expect to be inundated with pictures.

I am going on a road trip today in honour of the occasion. I'm throwing the swag in the back of the car and going in search of early morning foresty goodness.

Anyway, the assignment has arisen to take a pic of your desk. Here's mine.

Complete with relaxed Vic posture, a Roland Mini Cube amp (what a great little thing it is). The Stereo speakers are not actually connected to anything, but they make a great shelf.

I'm guilty of cleaning up a little. The bit to the right of my feet rarely sees the light of day as it functions as an intray. But when it is relatively clear I feel content.

Australiana with a twist.

In an interesting snippet:

Female koalas indulge in lesbian "sex sessions", rejecting male suitors and attempting to mate with each other, sometimes up to five at a time, according to researchers.

The furry, eucalyptus-eating creatures appear to develop this tendency for same-sex liaisons when they are in captivity. In the wild, they remain heterosexual.

Scientists monitoring the marsupials with digital cameras counted three homosexual interactions for every heterosexual one.

[...]

"Wild koalas brought into captivity clearly display homosexual behaviour on a regular basis. A total of 15 heterosexual and 43 homosexual interactions were recorded in separate animals. Homosexual behaviour was restricted to females only."

Monitoring with digital cameras?

Now listening to:

Right Place, Wrong Time - Dr. John

This song is so funky. And the lyrics are brilliant.

I been in the right place
But it must have been the wrong time
I'd of said the right thing
But I must have used the wrong line
I been in the right trip
But I must have used the wrong car
My head was in a bad place
And I'm wondering what it's good for

I been the right place
But it must have been the wrong time
My head was in a place
But I'm having such a good time

I been running trying to get hung up in my mind
Got to give myself a little talking to this time
Just need a little brain salad surgery
Got to cure this insecurity

I been in the wrong place
But it must have been the right time
I been in the right place
But it must have been the wrong song
I been in the right vein
But it seems like the wrong arm
I been in the right world
But it seems wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong

Slipping, dodging ,sneaking
Creeping hiding out down the street
See me life shaking with every who I meet
Refried confusion is making itself clear
Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here

I been in the right place
But it must have been the wrong time
I'd have said the right thing
But I must have used the wrong line
I'd a took the right road
But I must have took a wrong turn
Would have made the right move
But I made it at the wrong time
I been on the right road
But I must have used the wrong car
My head was in a good place
And I wonder what it's bad for

According to Google:

An assignment via Sassy - do a Google search for "[your name] needs". I put it in inverted commas so I got the exact string.

According to Google:

Vic needs:The Beast. Old Vic needs a home. No sissies ...
Yeah, okay.

Vic needs:HIRE ME! Vic is looking for work.
No. But I'd probably fit something else in if I could.

Vic needs:SLICK VIC NEEDS A HOOD RAT!!! ... GURLS ARE LIKE POKEMON ...GOT CATCH EM ALL...
Heehee. This is my less shy self!

Vic needs:Vic needs employment. He left his job two years ago to start a nonprofit drug/alcohol addiction treatment center with sober living houses but due to certian ...
Due to what? The fact that I'm drinking right now?

Vic needs:vic needs to be able to load a user provided file that contains either a ...
Yes! I took me ages to be able to put a photo on my profile!

Vic needs:VIC needs to be confident that the faculty is going to give them the necessary support and ...
Yep.

Vic needs:Vic needs a "babies!" userpic.
Nuh-uh. No way I don't. A woman came to the shop this morning with her garanddaughter to show me. Yeah great. Baby. Am I fascinated? Try harder.

Vic needs:His telepathic dog, Blood (Tim McIntire) depends on Vic for food, but Vic needs Blood to...
Woah.

Vic needs:The New Vic Needs Your Help. Really. ...
Yep.

Vic needs:It's time for an extreme makeover at Vegas Vic's Tiki Lounge, and Vic needs a web designer to help. What Vic gets: A cool, shag-a-delic website that helps ...
Bring that fucker on!

Ranodomicity

Currently listening to: Everybody Here Wants You - Jeff Buckley now becoming Jeep On 35 - John Scofield.

Currently pissed off at: Mosquitoes. Since it's been raining pretty much daily for the last couple of weeks, there's been a population explosion in my forest yard and the little fuckers follow me in a cloud.

Currently drinking: Coffee. 7th cup of the day and not the last.

Currently happy about: I ran a guitar ensemble today at the boy's school and all the kids called me "miss". Ah, classroom teacher respect.

Now listening to: In the Way - Ani DiFranco

Currently wearing: Musician style all black which works so well because it hides the dirt from the fruit shop job in the morning and also makes me look a little slimmer.

Currently craving: Snow Peas and Broccoli. And salad. I think my pestilent body is sending me important messages here.

Not looking forward to: having to keep my eyes open and my mind focused for at least the next five hours.

Looking forward to: Sleeping.

Signing off with: Yer Old - Reef


In case you haven't realised from the rest of this post, I'm exhausted and falling apart.

The Monday Melee

And it's time for TheMonday Melee yet again.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Supermarkets that only have two registers open on a busy day. Yes, it's hard to pick when a rush will be but for fuck's sake. Can't your shelf stocking people be cross-trained to open up a till and serve when it's busy? Or not have two staff milling around the service desk looking at all the people with trolleys lined up waiting to get out of the store?

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Cold & Flu + Guarana tablets.
"Contains Guarana to help maintain Stamina and Endurance while fighting cold and flu"
I took one of these suckers this morning and my flu symptons were worse, not better. The guarana thing, which is what sold me, did not help me work any faster at all. It sent my mind into overdrive and I just got jittery. I had a running mental commentary for everything that I was trying to do and a total inability to focus on getting it done quickly and efficiently.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Missing out on the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras again. Next year I will be far more organised.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
My mate who stayed for the weekend, for exerting an easy, blokey atmosphere over my house. I haven't lived around actually blokey masculinity for a long time and really enjoyed the company.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I got picked on by a bunch of assholes for looking like a boy, but underneath being pissed off that these guys had the rudeness to yell it out, I actually like it. I like my short boy-cut hair and I like wearing men's dress shirts. And goddamit, I think I look good that way.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
To be able to breathe without snuffling, not to feel backache and to never ever have to pick the fluff off clothes that have been put through the wash with tissues in the them again. In short, I want the flu to fuck off.

Where the hell is the postman?

Purchased from ebay last week, as yet undelivered:

Used but in imaculate condition 65Watt valve state amp Has 1x Valve in preamp section giving great clean and 2x overdrive modes plus volume boost all footsitchable. Nice reverb and Celestion 12" speaker made inUK Cost $1000.00 new and is in as new condition never gigged hardly played

So hurry up already.

Catch up session.

Well. Weekend over and back [hopefully] to normal daily posting.

Here’s some highlights of the week that was:

1. My nose turned into a snorkel with the second week of battling the flu

2. Seeing a gypsy jazz band The Straightback Fellows with an amazing bass player. He was all over the fingerboard of his acoustic fretless bass and it was brilliant

3. Two consecutive days of drinking with a friend who I haven’t seen in two years

4. Viewing of friend’s heavily pierced penis – strike that off the list of things I really wanted to see

5. Being asked twice, loudly and roughly by a bunch of rural fuckwit uni student boys, if I was a boy or a girl – and having the presence of mind not to hit them but just walk away

6. Laughing with friend about the “straight” rural fuckwit uni students that tried to take a picture of his heavily pierced appendage at the urinals

Kate's Challenge

So the challenge was to post something in a strange environment in fifteen minutes…

The pressure is on and already I’ve had to go back and correct half a dozen typos! But here goes in earnest.

I’m at the boy’s boarding school, in a little shoebox room that is my teaching space for the day. I chose which day I wanted to teach here by finding out who (out of the instrumental teachers I know and like) would be coming in on which day. Thursdays present the best social opportunity for me, since I’ve got another mentor guitar teacher here and my good mate the brass teacher, who is also a smoker. He and I carpool out of the grounds for quick cigarette in the breaks.

I got here a little early today, and after booting a violin-playing kid out of my teaching space – nice that you’re practising in your free periods mate, but fuck off out of my space – I decided to do the tea lady run. This school is the only one I work at that provides plunger coffee and has a staffroom just for instrumental staff. It is so nice to be looked after in that way. Anyway, tea lady Vic takes the coffees and the biscuits to the various friends and comes back in time to teach student number one… Only to find out that he’s on exchange in France for the next five weeks. Hence Vic is writing a blog post instead.

I find it difficult to get into a full-blown rant. Sure, there’s stuff that pisses me off. But usually I can get over it. Or I come to write about it, and realise that I just don’t have the head for useful facts, therefore any ranting will sound uninformed and like a whingeing idiot.

But here’s something that does piss me off immensely. This entire school has goon wireless. I could be sitting here with my notebook, connected to the internet as I type this post. I had this in mind when I bought the notebook – I made sure that it had wireless built in. But what pisses me off is that this school is a Mac school. I don’t have problems with Macs, in fact I like them. I just prefer this notebook, which isn’t a Mac. And the school is a discriminating school. In fact I find that this happens with a lot of the Mac users I’ve met. I couldn’t care less what type of computer a person uses, but these people insist on having this whole Oh, just go to the dock and Oh, right, you’re not on a Mac or You’re having problems? That’s because you’re not on a Mac. Fuck off. It’s discrimination.

So back to the school being a Mac school. I have to pay $100 per year to install an antivirus program from the school so that I can use their wireless system. The actual use of the system is free. If I had a Mac, however, I wouldn’t have to install the antivirus stuff. Meaning I wouldn’t have to pay a cent. What makes me pissed off the most is they way they say it. If you had a Mac, you wouldn’t have to do it. Fuck off. And there is no way I’ll pay $100 for the ability to use the internet during my five hours of teaching on one day per week for roughly thirty weeks. No fucking way. I’ll just do what I need at home and stuff this discriminatory arsehole school. I shouldn’t be really using the net while I’m here anyway.

Well this post has taken me half an hour instead of fifteen minutes, but I’ve had the time to use up. Meanwhile Brass Man has been making elephant sounds on a trombone with a new student, and Sax/Clarinet lady has been doing swung duets with a student who has a tone like a newborn goose. Guitar man is sadly at the other end of the building, so I’m missing out on that part of the musical melange. Later on I will be sandwiched in between two piano teachers as well. More coffee now will help.