Saturday, June 30, 2007

Customers shit me

I spend twenty-two hours of my working week in a fruit shop. I set up displays. I pack wholesale orders. I do deliveries. I peel and prepare vegetables. I know my stuff and I used to run a vege section in another wholesalers. I do this job because my friends own the business and they need someone they can rely on. I spend probably a total of two of those twenty-two hours behind the shop counter.

But that still gives people the right to treat me like an idiot who knows nothing. Who can't hold a job anywhere else because I'm too stupid. Like I stand there all day waiting for their wisdom to shine it's light through the sliding door and set off my buzzer. Like I enjoy being treated as if I know nothing even though I have worked in the industry for the last six years.

I'll just have "these three" bananas thankyou. Look, lady. I can see that there's three. I can count. I actually made it a hell of a lot further than primary school and I'm not blind either so I can fucking well see there's three. And as for the fact that they're bananas? Shit, I didn't know. I got them out of the coolroom, put them on the display that I maintain every fucking day and you know, lady, I think I just learnt something new from you. Thanks a bunch.

I suppose you wouldn't know if there's any other lettuces out the back. Not in the form of a question. A satement. What do you think? They grew on the display?

And then Can you get a fresh lot of potatoes for me? followed by oh one of the boys should be lifting that for you when I trot out with a 20k bag over my shoulder. Do I really look like the type who'd ask the boys if really could help it? I do two at a time up a full set of stairs on deliveries just to prove I can do it without help. Besides I'm often there alone and what do these idiots think? The spuds that they request are going to magically fly out of the coolroom out the back of the shed on their own?

I should be wearing a sign that says I teach music. My friends own this business and I'm doing them a favour. They pay me well in exchange. So basically I do this for fun and interaction with people who are not idiots. Please allow me to continue that ideal by fucking off.

Quote of the Day

IcePick remeniscing opening the first Woodstock (bourbon and cola) of the weekend.

It was like an orgy of angels in my mouth.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

From the other side

The last few nights I've wanted to sleep on the opposite side of the bed to my "normal" side...

Stand and face my bed from the foot. Appreciate the speakers for bedside tables and candles around the place - very sauve. Don't look under the bed because there's a couple of boxes of crap I'm ignoring the prospect of going through. Don't turn around because the precarious stack of belongings in front of the dresser mirror directly behind you might - for some unknown reason - discover gravity. Face the foot end of my bed and take note that my side is on your left. Well it was.

I've always seen that side as the male side of the bed. It's the way my parents slept and funnily, a majority of the couples I've spoken to about it sleep in the same arrangement. Is there some reason for this? I thought it was just a natural assumption from seeing my parents sleep that way until it came up in discussion that traditionally the woman is led on the left of the man, in order to leave his good hand free for shaking others' hands.

I had a girlfriend that defied this theory. She had to sleep furthest away from the door, which was an absolute bastard because she was also obsessive about peeing. You mention going to the bathroom and it would play on her mind until she couldn't stand it any longer. Every time she woke up she had to pee. Even if it was five minutes after you last rolled over and woke her light-sleeping square ass up, you could make her obsess about needing to go again. Just by waking her. But why pick the furthest spot away from the door when you can guarantee you'll get up during the night at least once?

When I was with my male partner, I slept to his left. I moved in with the girlfriend and migrated at the time to her right, which I felt more comfortable with in the context. And now I'm taking a holiday on the other side of the bed because I'm drawn to it in an obsessive and odd way. Do I just need a break over here? Or am I moving because it's closer to the door and further away from the cold window?

So what side do you sleep on and why?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Quote of the Day

Gayman, when we walked into a camera shop...

Vic, I know what you can do.

Just go up to the counter and jump.

Then maybe they'll see you over the edge of it.

Monday, June 25, 2007

The Monday Melee

Monday Melee time. The weekly digest of how shallow I can be. It's a completely self-centred Melee today, but I've got nothing else so deal with it.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Having knots in my shoulders and nobody to relieve them. A long hot soak in the bath doesn't even come close to the relief of having someone digging their thumbs into my back and working out the bits that make my shoulders crunch when I move them.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
This question. It shits me. It highlights to me how much I am out of the loop with current events and embarrasses me every week.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
The weather in this goddamned town. I'm parked on the floor in front of the wall heater with a beanie and hobo gloves on and I'm still cold. All I want to do is sit here and eat soup, stew or some other comfort food all day.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
The musical director of the musical I played bass in for saying that he loved working with me. It's great hear that you're appreciated sometimes.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I looked hot in that corset Friday night. It's not the typical Vic, but I don't mind being a chameleon sometimes.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
This weekend to hurry on up and arrive.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Interview with the dude in the loungeroom

Meet IcePick. He is the dude in the loungeroom. On weekends only. He drives in from another town, goes out drinking and crashes on a lounge in front of the heater. After three weeks of this Gayman and I decided that since IcePick buys a carton and then leaves pretty much half of it here every time he should have a key. He's the weekend housemate. We even put two lounges together for him this weekend so that he could have a double bed.

IcePick, what brings you to our particular loungeroom with such frequency?
Weekend warriorism.

So is this a hangover friendly house?
I don't think there's been a morning yet that I haven't been hung over here.

But is it a bad place to be hung over?
No. It's a good place. Except when Vic farts or takes a grunt in the toilet. Because nothing can cover it.

No shit, yesterday he and Gayman threw a can of deodorant in for me and then stuck towels up against the gap in the toilet door. IcePick told me I wasn't allowed to come out until the smell had disappeared entirely.

How do you feel about being the token straight guy in the house that gay built?
Like a very rare collectable guy.

And then I lose his attention to his laptop. He's settled in to the wireless thing we've got going on and is happily playing Meatloaf through my stereo from his computer and playing Counter Strike.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Technology goes too far

I got an automatic text message from my hair salon yesterday evening asking me to text a confirmation for my appointment today. I'm sorry, but I walked in there in person to make the appointment. Does that mean I didn't want it? Not to mention the fact that I live a whopping three blocks from the place. This town is too small for that sort of crap.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Musical adventures: Dress-ups Part Two

So the fun continues with the musical.

Pirate night. The bastards held a sword to my throat and made me drink!

Hawaiian theme day, in which I look like a midget but really... Oh crap. I guess I'm pretty short. Our Musical Director knocked out an arrangement of Hawaii Five-O for the occasion. Yes, it's a terrible shot, but it's Vic in a bikini.

And Punk night. Gayman was twisting my hair, already laden with gel, while spraying hair spray onto it and Trumpet chick fired a hair dryer at me. I woke up in a strange house on the other side of town the next day, after copious amounts of drinking (who ever thinks that red wine at the end of the night is a goo idea? But we'd run out of everything else...). I sat up in bed and felt my hair - it had not budged at all from the night before. In fact, it stayed that way for half the day.

There we go. Upcoming highlights of dress-ups may include Mafia night, Seventies night, Moulin Rouge night and the final night... Technicolor. God knows what I'll do for that. I'm thinking body paint.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Never done that before.

Today I stepped into a lingerie shop to buy something.

Admittedly, it's for a dress up night to do with the musical I'm in. It's been decided that we should do a Moulin Rouge night, which I'm a little excited about - the high points have been wearing a dress and then wearing a bikini top with a towel around my waist, so I've got to beat that on the stepping out of my comfort zone level - but as well I'm absolutely crapping myself with anxiety about looking like a fool for an entire performance.

So I've never bought the good gear before. I buy cheap from K-Mart. I've never spent more than fifteen dollars on a bra in a shop. I've had some given to me in years past, but they don't count in this story.

I walk in. I look at all the frilly bits of stuff hanging off display trees and my mind just goes into shutdown. The only thing I can do is get my self to the counter, feeling about as out of my comfort zone as a seventeen year old boy tagging along while his mother shops for sexy lingerie. Berating myself for being such a loser, I asked the lady for help.

Um... I'm after a corsety sorta.. thing.

Okay, what size are you after?

I don't know.

Well, what size bra do you wear?

Um... I kind of do the whole minimising thing... so I get the smallest possible sports bra just to... you know.. flatten them out. So... um... I do a ten in the sports bra or an eight in the sports shirty things.

Well. What size are you wearing now?

I've just got a size 12 sports shirt. (I had none of the others left - the weather is crap and the washing hasn't been done. Plus I had three layers over the top.)

For just about a year I've been wearing sports bras and doing the chest minimising thing. Couple that with weight loss of over fifteen kilos (I actually think it would be more if I hadn't started muscling up a bit as well - but I like that better), and you get the result of me not having a clue what size I am. Cup size has meant nothing to me for what seems like forever. I know I used to be a 16D once upon a more feminine time.

So she helped. She was nice. She told me how to do the thing up. She brought more when the ones I tried weren't fitting enough. I ended up being a 10C. Then she helped with stockings. She figured me out for a no-idea type. She got it all laid out on the counter.

Now, this stocking pack (called the Sexy Kit) comes with a G-string. You might not want that. Maybe you could give it to some special.

What the hell? Either she's got me sussed which is fine, or she thinks I'll look crap in a G-string.

Now, do you know how to attach the stockings to the suspender?

Umm... No?

Well you do this [and she shows me].

Oh, okay. That's mechanics. I can see how that works. Easy.

So I managed to get what I wanted to get. I didn't look at anything else. It just doesn't do much for me. It resembles rack upon rack of femininity that I just don't do. On someone else, yes. But I haven't met anyone that I want to buy lingerie for yet. I think I've got a hell of a lot of research to do before I do that sort of thing. Or I need to go shopping with someone who knows what they're doing, know me well and who's willing to teach me patiently just so I'm armed with a little more knowledge for the future and a hell of a lot less apprehension.

Monday, June 18, 2007

The Monday Melee

Even the Monday Melee makes me cranky today.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Period pain.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Me having ovaries.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Period pain.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
Gayman, for putting up with me whinging and yelling about period pain and then telling me the origins of the word hormone.
"Some stupid whore moaned about it all the time and that's where the word came from."

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I haven't actually bitten anyone's head off yet.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
No ovaries. It's not like I need them anyway.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Playing dress-ups: Part One

So I've been playing bass for a local musical society production. The Musical Director has picked his band basically from people he knows will work well together and be fun in the process. And fun it's been. The band is nestled in behind the stage (normally it's off to the side in the local productions) so virtually nobody from the audience can see us. We've even had comment that people think it's a CD. So we were joking about before the shows started that we should dress in pyjamas so that we'd be comfortable.

It's gone a bit nuts from there. Each night has a different theme. So the easiest most tragic choice after pyjamas was eighties night. I hit the op-shop and hacked away at a pair of jeans, a jacket and then piled a shitload of gel into my hair. The looks we got when we walked into the services club where the show is playing were priceless.

The themes are a topic of bar discussion after the show (Where else? We're musicians) and have included suggestions from the cast as well. Whatever idiot thought that we could dress up as the food groups was just pushing the friendship, though. It's been an ice-breaker between the band and the cast and I've met a lot of cool people through it.

Then we have the shot some might have been waiting for. "Formal dress" night. That's right - Vic in a dress (cue: those reading gasp at the surprise). I told the entire cast that it was a once in ten-year thing and not to get too excited. I had one lady who I'm sure was trying to convince me I could pick up a nice young lad in what I was wearing. I just smiled and nodded and thought not a chance honey.

This series of shows is the most I've ever dressed up for anything and it's been fun. Normally I'm the person who finds any excuse to turn up in jeans and hang out away from the action - to be a part of the plain furniture rather than a feature wall, but through the last two weeks of dressing up I've come out of my shell a little more as a person and it's fun.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Quote of the Day

"The closest thing he got to being christian was screaming Oh God when he fucked her."

Courtesy of Gayman, still drunk, on a rant in my doorway this morning.

Friday, June 15, 2007

You're never too old to...

go windsurfing with the advertising sails at the service station.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Dear Vic,

Ten points on your decision to just be single and not spend at least the rest of this year looking for a partner. You’ll get more done that way.

It shows that you want to learn your drum parts for brass band state championships this year. It shows that you know you’re spending far too little time playing guitar. It shows that you value yourself. It shows that you’re embracing the idea that love will happen when you least expect it. It shows that you couln’t give a rats if you found the right person tomorrow, as long as you got your space.

Hopefully it does not show you to be full of shit.


Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Warning: asshole ideals ahead

I just want some one who gets me. Eventually.

My ideal – call me shallow if you will, I’m in the mood at the moment to be shallow and an asshole - my ideal partner, friend, whatever…. Anyone I want to spend quality time with has:

Consideration to others around them, people skills. Care for the well being of the people around them. People in the street. People they’ve never met. Just a good sense of nice.

Ability to read maps. I like driving. I need a navigator. Or at least the willingness to learn to read a map. I love navigation and I honestly find it hard to understand anyone who doesn’t have a sense of direction. This is anal but who cares – I’m an asshole, right?

Respect for my property and personal space. Actually for anyone’s property and personal space. And time. I don’t have much of it spare but I give it freely when I do. I don’t want to feel like I’m being waited around for constantly. Maybe I need to find someone as busy as I am so that we cross paths every now and then and that’s it.

Culture. Appreciation of art and the world around them. Open eyes for possibility. Appreciation of music, but not along the lines of snobbery. Just an open mind and an awe of the world.

Someone with get up and go. Someone with a job who doesn’t sit around all day watching the time go by. Or worse, stay up all night and then sleep through the day just because they think there’s nothing better to do than waste time.

Someone who likes to stuff about playing frisbee or racing down the isles of the supermarket. Or to go for road trips when the time is there just because life is too short to play house.

Maybe I should just appreciate being alone.

The Monday Melee

Crap. I missed the Monday Melee by a couple of hours.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
Having a demonic red eye.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
It's my fault I have a demonic red eye. I left my contacts in too long because I'm a useless lazy idiot when it comes to looking after my health.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
The fact that there's five other lesbians currently drinking in our loungeroom and I can't join the fun too much because I have to be at work in four hours.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
The Musical Director of the musical I'm playing bass in. He's stacked the band with people he knows will groove out well together at the end of the night. We've played different wlak-out music every night so far and it's been just awesome.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I wore a dress for a non-official reason on Saturday night. And... I hate admitting this... but this is the spot that crap like this comes out. I looked good. Yes, there will be pictures.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
Not to have had the argument I just had about the fact that I didn't trust a drunk person. Not to have heard her just explain to the rest of the room after I left it what an asshole I am.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Song of the moment

Now playing: Pink - Fingers
Listen to it. It's gold. Better than porn.

I'm alone now
Staring at the ceiling
I'm kinda bored now
I can't sleep
And you and me can't make my life complete
When you cum***** you slip into a dream

When it's late at night
And you're fast asleep
I let my fingers do the walking
I press record
I become a fiend
And no one else is watching
I let my fingers do the walking

I'm starving
For some attention
I'm begging, pleading, bleeding
For a suggestion
I bite my tongue because I wanna scream
I'm almost there and you turn and look at me

When it's late at night
And you're fast asleep
I let my fingers do the walking
I press record
I become a fiend
And no one else is watching
I let my fingers do the walking

Rewind and you will see
Why in the morning
I'm happy
Right there on the tv screen
Me vengo, me vengo

I'm restless
You need some caffeine
But I'm wasted
If you could only see
Cause I need more than you are gonna give

When it's late at night
And you're fast asleep
I let my fingers do the walking
I press record
I become a fiend
And no one else is watching

When it's late at night
And you're fast asleep
I let my fingers do the walking
I press record
I become a fiend
And no one else is watching

Sunday, June 10, 2007


Hospital adventures

Get a load of this: Contact-lens induced conjunctivitis.

A couple of hours in emergency because it's a long weekend and there's no way I'm going to pay some doctor exorbitant call-out fees when I'm not doing anything better with my day.

I spent my afternoon with half a dozen hockey injuries and a parkinsons case. And five Women's Weekly magazines. Only five. I'm going to take all my old magazines there because it is something seriously lacking in public health. Sure, you have to wait. That's understandable and totally expected. Anyone who turns up to emergency and doesn't expect to wait for at least a few hours is seriously delusional.

So I turned up to this place after the chemist refused to sell me medication - Honey you need to go to a doctor now, you've let it go for too long - fuck you lady, it's flared up over the course of twenty-four hours. Oh and the top-off I don't trust that you'll stay around in emergency because there's too much of a wait. What's with that? Just because I shuffled in wearing ugg boots and the jumper I slept in, looking like a total degenerate, doesn't mean that I'm not going to look after myself. I got there in the first place to buy medication didn't I? But this lady moved me on and I went straight to Emergency without being prepared. Last time I visited there I took a book. And five, I mean five only magazines. And they were trashy magazines. Seriously, Women's Weekly? What good can there be in a magazine titled Weekly when it comes out once a month?

Friday, June 8, 2007

Quote of the day

Apparently medium carrots are as dear as rocking-horse shit.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Notes on eye colour:

I've blatantly stolen this from Marda at lesbianrules. I have brown eyes...

Blood Shot Eyes
People with bloodshot eyes spend the shortest time in relationships except for the one with their current addiction. They are leg humping friendly to borderline sleazy. They always fall in love with anything that that has two legs, a pulse and a wet spot. They are great kissers—-until they vomit all over you. They are very easy to please unless they haven’t had their latest fix of alcohol, meth, cocaine, or prescription medicine.

Blue Eyes
People with blue eyes last the longest in relationships. They are kind, pretty or handsome,very good kissers and are really hot. They always fall in love with their closest friends and never understand why. They are very funny, outgoing and don’t care what people think or say. They are very satisfying and love to please. Are straight up WARRIORS when necessary.

Green Eyes
People with green eyes have the most passion put into relationships,honest and trust worthy, they have long lasting relationships. People with green eyes are also the most beautiful, are fun and outgoing, love to make people laugh, random as hell. They long for the touch of another. People with green eyes are very sexy and very attracted towards the opposite sex. tend to cover up true feelings, get scared over relationships.

Hazel Eyes
People with hazel eyes are very loveable. They are really hot and are awesome to be around. They don’t enjoy ‘pet names’. They don’t care what people think or say. They are lovers, not fighters. But if you mess around, they’ll knock you out. They are very satisfying and they love to please. They can exceed your pleasure standards. They are very laid back, chilled and love to just be around. They like to party to love to have fun fight when they have to and there good kissers and good in bed if u r with a hazel u are lucky and out going trustworthy a very good friend and they are very funny and fun to be around.

Brown Eyes
Either sexy as hell or are adorable. Loves to make new friends. Their relationship tends to be very honest because if they aren’t truly in love, then the relationship won’t work. They fall easily for their best friends. Will do anything for that special person. Kind and polite. Enjoys being with their guy/girl. LOVES to party. Can make ANYONE laugh or cheer them up. Loves to please the one they care for or love.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Blogging for sex education...

I put my hand up for this without a clear idea of what is really expected here. Change? I don’t know.
The best way for me to relate what I think is lacking in this area is to tell my story.

I’ve always been attracted to women. I have not always had the capability of recognising myself as a lesbian. This came a lot later.

We didn’t really get taught about same sex relationships at all at school. We briefly touched on gay sex during sex education. The only reference to lesbian sex that I remember encountering was discussing what the hell a dental dam was. Mainly there was discussion of sex between men in relation to the transmission of AIDS. That it is possible to have a loving, fulfilling same sex relationship was never mentioned.

I’ve always found it difficult to relate to my parents when it comes to personal discussion. Mainly we talk about the weather and what has been happening recently when we talk. We talk often, but not about the personal stuff. They aren’t exactly opposed to me being lesbian, but they do not provide much support. There is a level of disdain toward the gay community, that I especially feel from my father, which led me to hide my feelings so much that I did not recognise them for what they were.

I was in a relationship with a man who I still love as a close friend for five years before meeting the girl that I came out for. I was extremely close to marrying him, with no clear idea what love was actually meant to be. I often thought, well… I guess this is what life is going to be, then. I left him out of the blue for this girl. I don’t think that I ever would have had the guts to do this – except that she told she’d die without me. This appealed to my sense of chivalry so much that I just up and left. I left a horrible mess which I still am appalled to know that I created. I knew no other way at the time, and spent a lot of time and emotional effort trying to explain the shit that I’d dumped onto this poor man.

I remember clearly that first night that I called her and said that I needed her to pick me up and drive me away from the home I had with this man. We talked about what the hell we were going to do with our relationship – this covert thing that we thought wasn’t going to be accepted because we didn’t know any better. We decided that we couldn’t touch in public. We would let our close friends know and that would be it. I thought that I’d let myself in for a life where I was going to lose everything I had. Except for her.

We were met generally with acceptance from our friends. Support. I was overwhelmed. Nobody seemed to care about this thing that I’d been brought up through ignorance to think was indecent and should be hidden. These friends helped me to celebrate myself through her, they stood there at our engagement and knew that there was love.

I know very clearly now that without the catalyst of her I would be still in the relationship with the man I loved in a very different way. I could never have come out on my own. I may be strong as a person now, but not then. Not without this lifetime of self-exploration I’ve put myself through in such a small amount of time. I was full of self-doubt and ignorance.

After a messy, soul-destroying break-up with her was when I really got to know my first other lesbian friends. Before spending time with them I had no idea how to deal with myself, with the pain, with the question my straight friends were asking me. Does this mean you’re still gay? I had no idea. I just threw myself into work and sat in my empty house with no phone and stuff all belongings not knowing how to cope. This couple I got to know, they’ve been together ten years. They helped me through and I’m eternally grateful. They were the education I never had regarding loving relationships and self-acceptance as a lesbian. I learned so much from them in such a short time. How could I have been through two years of loving relationship and come out the other side knowing so little? I guess she was my life and the only thing I felt I needed to know in that time was her. I was so unprepared.

The Monday Melee

Sometimes I look forward to the Monday Melee. I have what I want to say roughed out in my head and it just flows. Other days I have no idea what will come out. It's a lucky dip from my head today, and I'll probably find the answers as surprising as everyone else.

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something you absolutely hate.
The cold. I put on a brave front and say things like you can always put more clothes on and the days are so crisp and clear which are both true... But the cold drills into my mind and things just don't work as well. The entire town seems to lose it's optimism. We all live here - but we all bitch like nothing else about the winters. I'm a barefoot child and I love my suntan. I also hate having to chip the ice off my windscreen of a morning. I'm already holding out for another summer.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
Me in a customer service role. I'm paid to be nice no matter what and sometimes it's just a sham. Complete and utter. Why would I want to be nice to some asshole who thinks I set the prices and that the only reason bananas are so expensive is so that I can line my own pocket? Why would I want to spend time helping a drooling old man who smells like three day old urine? And smile about it? Rather than say, look bud, you stink. Get a regular bath or get a carer. It's indecent to put that sort of pressure on the people who have to come into contact with you.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
Not having any cigarettes. Being broke because a cheque hasn't cleared yet so I can't afford cigarettes. They are a luxury item but they rank up there with food for me. I'm antsy and have a short fuse. If I keep going without it might be good for the flu and terribly clogged lungs I've been suffering for the last three weeks.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
The stunning red-haired friend for playing frisbee with me in the mall in the centre of town, on a Saturday morning. We were buzzing from good coffee and good company and I had an absolute ball.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
My bass playing. I'm playing for a town musical at the moment - something I've only done once before and in quite a different context. I was playing yesterday and it struck me just how happy I am with my tone and my particular attack to playing. I used to be unsure as a player and ask for help finding the right tone. Now I know exactly what I want and can even think of it as my sound. It's a confidence that I like to have.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
Summer to come around, so that I can be barefoot and easy going once again.

More on that word.

I've been writing a lot about love and hurt lately. I've been thinking a hell of a lot about it also.

There are so many different types of love. This has been pointed out to me so much and I've always known it. It's just... I've felt as though I need to guard against using the word in any other context than that mind-smashing relationship kind of situation. Keep it from being overused. Keep it sacred in a way, so that it's meaning for me stays powerful.

That said, and all my talk of reluctance to use the word, I've done the opposite this week. I have accepted the multiple levels of the word, and I have been able to accept that I'm going to feel it in many ways, too. It's been such an up and down week, but I think the overall conclusion is that I can love deeply and express it in a completely different way to the experience I've had before. It does not change the integrity of that experience, it's just different.

I'm at a very confusing place in my mind. Nothing seems clear. A year ago I went through a break-up that tore me to pieces. It changed me almost as much as the relationship that ended had changed my life. I came out in that relationship and having it end left me feeling stranded and unsure of my status as a person. I hid from that through work. I busted my butt at my job and became a great reliable worker. I sat at home with no phone and a barely functioning fireplace and then started going out on weekends - meeting people, making new friends. Redefining myself as someone who exists a sole entity, rather than with a partner. I started blogging. All that stuff is positive.

But at this point in time I'm fighting to keep that clarity I worked for. My mind isn't clear. I think that the time of year and the change in weather have a little to do with the lack of positivity. I'm working hard and trying to push it all out again and partying hard when I get the chance, but as for staying happy... I just can't seem to get my head above the water some days.

Forgive me if I don't make sense. How can I be clear about something I feel so confused about?

Saturday, June 2, 2007

Saturday nights

And there's a house party again.
Again. The two hottest lesbians in the whole house....
Cruiseydyke and Groover...

Friday, June 1, 2007

Yet another cool street art project

This post started life with the intention of becoming a blurt of massive proportions. I've had an amazingly shithouse week - some really high highs but some absolute crash and burners as well, which override all the good stuff too easily. So I did an image search for "fuck the world" just to add some colour to an otherwise drab outpouring of personal crap and it all changes for a while.

I came across FUCK this website, home of a project that asks people to stick stickers of the word fuck in funny places. The explanation:

I don't know, just had the idea one day and thought it would be funny. So I printed out stickers in a bunch of different sizes, took them everywhere with me, and started taking photos. It quickly turned into an obsession, and I ended up with a book. So, now it's your turn, let's see what you can do. Get some stickers and take some photos. Believe me, once you start, you'll never look at signs the same way again.

You can actually buy the stickers from this website and they are supposedly strong and removable. I really like the disclaimer that goes with them - this is supposed to be about collecting funny images, not FUCKing up people's personal property. Don't be an asshole and leave the stickers on signs around children's playgrounds. It's good to see some culture jamming with principals.