Most of you probably haven’t even heard of James Darren, but Goodbye cruel world is a great little song. I like this sort of old music though.

Erm, anyway…

I’m taking a little break from this site. I’m feeling a bit distanced from my normal blogosphere right now, plus the new semester at uni starts next week and being busy and unmotivated is hardly a good combination when it comes to running a blog. No definite time frame before my return, but probably only a short while because you know me…I don’t stick to anything for very long. I didn’t want to put up a placeholder image saying “I’m on hiatus” though, because it makes no sense to block a pathway to the content (on the off chance someone actually wants to check it out!) and besides, the word hiatus always makes me think of hernias.

If anyone is interested in keeping up with me, I’m still blogging (almost daily) at my livejournal, (20 Digit Combo) and will be posting random nonsense over there. It’s not a replacement for this blog, since it’s more a midway between this and my Tumblr (which, FTR, has a new username), but it’s something. I have it set up to enable comments from non-LJ users, so you really have no excuse not to redirect your affections for me there…
Don’t worry, I’m kidding.

So then, adios amigos. It should go without saying that I want you to be excellent to each other.

My lovely commentors: Julie, Caity, Simply Precious, Ash, Monkee, Sandalwood, Angelica, Charley & Vanessa.

Please Note: The post below was written while Aly was in a frustrated mood while listening to Maladjusted by Morrissey. The weather was cold and windy and she had spent the day cooking and sulking about the state of the world. Aly is therefore in a state of emotional distress and not culpable for the words that follow.

Today on the suckiness scale:

You might have noticed I changed the little intro at the top. I got bored of thinking of obscure things for the last segment, and besides, “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.”¹. You’ll notice my recurrent theme of lame silliness remains though – hurrah.

I’ve been a bit out of the loop with this site and blog-hopping and such lately, so thanks to those of you who have still been commenting even though I’ve been a lazy arse and haven’t returned any yet. I’ve actually opened up a side-blog at livejournal and have been posting there almost daily for the past week. It’s definitely not going to be replacing this blog, but I’m using it for shorter, more topical entries than my desultory ramblings here, as well as to post pictures, lists and so forth. Consider it a hybrid of this place and my (currently neglected) Tumblr. Oh, and if you didn’t pick up the pathetically pleading subliminal message in all that: add me!.

To be honest, I’ve been feeling pretty frustrated today. No, not that sort of frustrated.² I’ve just been having one of those days (weeks, actually) where it seems all the more obvious that life and the world in general is not the way I want it to be. And that’s definitely a problem, not just because it means I think the whole world is wrong in virtually every way (it is, I swear!), but because I can’t do a thing about it. Everywhere I turn I see prejudice; corruption; indifference; inanity. Cruel school children; rude sales clerks; gutters full of cigarette butts; McDonalds’ commercials; borderline-pornographic “music” videos and just so many other little signs that the world is a complete mess and so bloody shallow. It depresses me but I have no means or medium to try to change anything. The salt on the wound is to see people who do have a voice and can make a difference just squander the opportunity. I have to wonder sometimes if anyone else even thinks there’s a problem. Maybe I’m too sensitive; too querulous, and these are just carping criticisms of problems other people don’t even have an issue with. My mother says I get myself too worked up about such matters and that it’s this sort of attitude that makes people snap and commit mass shootings in classrooms and shopping centres. How sweet…my own mother is worried I’m going to become a mass murderer. Well she needn’t worry because I’m about as passive as they come – I can’t stand violence or conflict. I’m drastically more likely to join a hippie commune than the army reserve.

Anyway, tomorrow I have to put on my happy face (assuming I can find it, hardy har har…) to go doorknocking for the Leukaeamia Foundation, which I’m sure will do nothing to improve my mood because when it comes to such things I find most people to be less than benevolent. Of course I’m hoping all the traipsing up and the down the streets won’t be in vain, but let’s just say I expect more slammed doors than munificent donations.

On a happier note though, since this entry so far has sounded very grouchy and negative, I bought a new fish last night. His name is Basil (still going with the The Picture of Dorian Gray theme!) and he’s an opaline gourami. I like gouramis, not least because they’re extremely cheap (this little fella cost me $6.95!). He still seems a little nervy and I think he’s a bit intimidated by Lord Henry, but I managed to get a photo of him earlier today, albeit a rather fuzzy one:

And no, your eyes are not deceiving you, those stones really are bright pink, and so is the plant. Between that, the Oscar Wilde doll that usually sits on the table beside the tank and the view across the room of a huge poster of Morrissey being hugged by Johnny Marr, I can’t say I’m surprised that Dorian (RIP *sniff*) and Lord Henry seemed at times to be more than “just friends”. Do fish even have sexual orientations, I wonder? I doubt it, but I’m still going to say those two were friends of Dorothy.

Since I’ve been feeling so shitty today I’ve been comforting myself with eBay, because hey, isn’t more useless crap exactly what one needs when depressed? I’m struggling to resist some of the more useless things I can’t justify having, like rubber ducks dressed up as ninjas, one of those Oscar Wilde action figures I mentioned a while back and coasters made from old vinyl records, but I have bid on a set of original Rough Trade 7″ (record) singles by The Smiths, released in the 80s. I’d sell my own brother into slavery for them³, but considering they’re pretty rare the winning bid will probably be hundreds of pounds more than I can afford (though I am currently winning at a measly £33). Is it mean to wish every Smiths fan on the planet would slip into a coma for the next few days so that I’m not outbid? Thought so.

So…questions. If you’ve made it this far, kudos to you. Have a cookie.⁴

1. Do you use livejournal? Share your username if you have one and don’t think I’m too weird to be added to your f’list.
2. Random question: What type of milk do you drink? (Eg. Whole, skim, soy, etc…)
3. Just to warp your minds, a serious question at the end this time: Do you believe that everybody has a soul? If so, how would you define said soul?

Must return to my sulking now. Maybe I’ll have a teary and then pen a withering missive to The Courier Mail about the paucity of intelligent role models in the media and that society is indubitably doomed as a result. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Adios amigos. Be excellent to each other.

My lovely commentors: Simply Precious, Julie, Vanessa, Deanna, Georgina, Tiffany & Christine. It’s folks like you that remind me that not everybody in the world is a complete tosser.

• Feeling: melancholic
• Listening to: “Lonely planet boy” – New York Dolls
• The weather outside: 286 Kelvins
• Cool but nerdy fact of the day: A “wimpzilla” (not to be confused with a fictional Japanese monster) is a hypothetical sub-atomic particle of dark matter, theorized to be the source of ultra-high energy cosmic rays. You’d probably have to be an astrophysicist to understand that¹, but hey…”wimpzilla” just sounds cool.

First of all, completely random, but I want to plug this video:

If you missed the title when it flashed across the screen, that was Suedehead, one of my favourite Morrissey songs and also one of my favourite songs of all time, period. After talking about East of Eden² last week I was feeling all sentimental about this particular clip, even though the song itself has absolutely nothing to do with James Dean (nor does it even have anything to do with the title!). Words cannot describe how much I love it though (and I’m talking about the song itself now, not just the video!). I know a lot of people think my obsession with Morrissey is a bit nutty (words like “pathetic” and “deranged” have also been casually uttered…) but please, humour me. His music (and he himself) really mean a lot to me. Newsflash, I know.

So, you might be wondering what the heck the title of this blog is about (or else you’re just content to sit back and think: “meh, Aly’s mad…whatever” ). Well tonight is the last of a series of three football games between my state (the Queensland Cane Toads) versus our southern neighbours (The New South Wales Cockroaches). No, I’m not kidding, those are really the team names! I have sneaking suspicion that each named the other, lol. Obviously I’m supposed to be cheering for Queensland (even though it’s completely pointless to do so because it’s a “best of three” thing and we’ve already won the first two), but actually those aren’t the cane toads I’m talking about supporting. Nope, I’m referring to the real cane toads³ – the poisonous amphibians that are savagely beaten to a pulp with sticks/golf clubs/cricket bats by the Australian population en masse like it’s actually a national sport, which of course it’s not. There are even “Cane Toad Whacking” events in some places here, and people sell stuffed cane toads and cane toad leg keyrings and so forth at craft markets here (see picture to the right, lovingly borrowed from Wikipedia). Maybe I’m too soft, but I find this not only disgusting, but very cruel. I know the toads are pests and they can be dangerous to crops and other animals (after all, they are poisonous), but is it really necessary to resort to such brutal measures to control them? (Of course my opinion is NO.) Personally, I feel sorry for the cane toads. They can’t help what they are; why should they have to die for it? If I had the money and resources I’d open a cane toad sanctuary where they can be brought to and contained, so that they could still live without causing destruction to the rest of the country. And yes, I know that might sound a little ridiculous. You’re laughing at me now, aren’t you?

I do get very upset about animals being hurt or killed though – even things like cane toads and cockroaches (feel free to hurt the NSW footballers though, I don’t mind! Hehe). When I say I “wouldn’t hurt a fly”, I actually mean that literally. I won’t kill them. If I find a spider in my house I scoop them up to release them into the garden. Even green ants are safe, though the last one I released after it had already bitten me wasn’t very grateful because it came right back to bite me a second time. And heaven forbid I hear about a dog/cat/other domestic animal being hurt or killed! I actually react far worse to animals suffering than humans – partly because animals are so vulnerable and can’t speak for themselves to protest their treatment, but also just because I like animals more than people (I’m completely serious about that). Think about it: animals are incredibly loyal, they’re unconditionally loving and they don’t even have the capacity for negative human traits like spite, scorn and dishonesty. There’s an old feminist joke that asks “what’s the difference between a new husband and a new puppy?” and the answer is: “after a year, the puppy is still happy to see you”. It’s true though. Pathetic and self-pitying as it sounds, animals have always treated me far better than humans and I’ll usually leap to their defense first. (Though that’s not to say I don’t care about human rights – I donate to Amnesty International, but admittedly when funds are scant, PETA and the RSPCA get first dibs.)

Anyway, moving on, I’m starting to work on reorganizing the content here (and adding a few new bits and pieces), though it’s all “behind the scenes” stuff so far. I’m toying with a few small ideas for the visitor content section, and I’m definitely going to revamp the writing section (which at the moment is just poetry – I removed the other odds and ends a while back). I’m thinking of putting up some more random article/essay-type things like the Conversation as a dead art piece I published a few entries ago and perhaps some lyrics, though I’m not sure about the latter because they’re pretty shite. The poetry section could do with a spring clean too, since I hate almost everything in there at the moment.

And so it doesn’t just seem like I’ve been thinking out loud for that last paragraph (though, uh…I kind-of was, haha), allow me to post another (craptastic) poem, fresh from the notebook as of about half an hour ago. And just before anyone gets the urge to correct my spelling, I know “Bironic” is spelled with a ‘y’ not an ‘i’. It’s a jeu de mots…it’s intentional.

Bironic Hero

cramped, aching fingers brush smooth dry pages
like talc and satin against the skin
I see my thoughts in deep blue viscous ink,
words that only I shall ever read
I send a plaintive plea out to the world
      made with slaughtered trees and biros

but my voice never registers above a whisper
and this empty world has no wish at all to change
the churls and philistines that walk upon
the barren soil where nothing grows
have scant affection
for a soul that only wants to save them

Yep, back to my favourite complaint with society. To quote a Smiths song⁴ (since when am I ever not quoting Smiths songs?⁵): “This story is old – I KNOW – but it goes on…”

Last random tidbit for the night: out of boredom I once again succumbed to those blasted Blogthings quizzes, and I got a rather interesting result for the “What’s your pizza personality?” quiz:

Your Pizza Says You Are a Food Snob

People may tell you that you have a small appetite… but you aren’t under eating. You just aren’t a pig. You are a very picky pizza eater. Not any pizza will do. You fit in best in the Northeast part of the US. You like food that’s traditional and well crafted. You aren’t impressed with “gourmet” foods. You are dependable, loyal, and conservative with your choices. You are carefree and friendly. You should consider traveling to Hawaii. The stereotype that best fits you is hippie. You knew it was coming.

What Does Your Pizza Say About You?

Work is Hard. Time for Blogthings!

The most interesting thing about it is that each section of the result directly corresponds to the answers I gave in the quiz. So apparently it’s the preference of a thin crust pizza that makes me “picky”, Hawaii is obviously the place to go for my next vacation because I like pineapple (got to love that logic! ) and not eating meat makes me a hippie. Ah, good old Blogthings…they’re full of crap but at least good for a laugh sometimes.

Right…questions. Five this time, just because I’m determined to make this an epic length entry.

1. What sports do you follow (if any)?
2. What’s the weirdest souvenir you’ve ever bought?
3. What do the wise sages at Blogthings have to say about your pizza personality?
4. Are you going to stop reading my blog if I don’t shut up about Morrissey occasionally?
5. What happens if you get half scared to death twice?

Well, time for me to get going then. I have to go to the doctor in half an hour about an assortment of small complaints. I usually don’t bother going to the doctor unless I’m practically on my deathbed (I object to having to sit in a waiting room for up to an hour with snotty children and people who don’t cover their mouths when they sneeze just to hear the doctor say “rest and take an aspirin”), but my mother’s sent me about four e-mails from New Zealand, saying “Have you seen the doctor? Go see the doctor. Why haven’t you seen the doctor yet?!”. Mothers, eh?

Adios amigos. Be excellent to each other.

My lovely commentors: Sandalwood, Lilian, Angelica, Amy, Simply Precious, Caity & Deanna.

• Feeling: enervated
• Listening to: “It’s hard to be a saint in the city” – Bruce Springsteen
• The weather outside: 283 Kelvins
• Retro cartoon superhero of the day: Bananaman

You can thank Elbert Hubbard for that ultra-profound quote. It’s just so true though. *sigh*

I have made some incredibly drastic changes to the site, as you may (not) have noticed. Firstly, I changed the main font from Arial to Cambria/Andale Mono/Georgia/generic serif, depending on your OS. Hey, this is a dramatic development, people – show some excitement! I’ve also decided to start using footnotes¹ instead of the acronym tag to make side references. And here you thought I was being lazy and not doing any work on this thing!

My baby!

Anyway, I took my dog to the canine opthamologist on Monday, and it turns out the surgery isn’t an option after all because rather than cataracts, he has a condition called Progressive Retinal Atrophy (PRA), for which there is no treatment. Apparently it’s quite common in older dogs, particularly Labradors. Unfortunately this means that he’s just going to go completely blind (he’s nearly there already these days) and there’s nothing that can be done about it – though thankfully the vet says he should be able to adjust and there’s no reason to worry about having to have him put to sleep. We’ve just got to make a few lifestyle adjustments to help him adapt (like wearing something jangly so he can hear where we are; putting scented oil on the furniture so that he can smell his way around, etc) and the vet gave him a little charm for his collar that says “Please be kind – I’m blind”. Aww. Poor little Harry.

As for me, my vision may be fine, but I’m still not feeling the greatest. My tooth is still giving me trouble, though at least I’m currently distracted from the tooth pain temporarily because of another type of mouth pain, having burned and blistered my tongue and lips on a Quorn² pastie tonight. I swear I’m just not meant to be pain-free at the moment! I’ve also got a bad bout of sinusitis and the beginnings of a cold, but that’s pretty much my usual condition in the winter months. *sigh* I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I end up with bronchitis too – it, head colds and sinusitis are my usual winter trifecta. The prize? Bedrest and an excuse to get out of doing anything I don’t want to.

Like I just said, I’m pretty sick at the moment, so this is going to be a short and boring blog – sorry. I just wanted to update tonight because it’s been nearly a week since my last entry and I haven’t been online much anywhere else (besides the forums at All You Need is Morrissey³, the place I end up when I click my heels together three times and say ‘there’s no place like home’ ) and thought I should probably put in a brief appearance to assure the world that I am indeed still alive.
I like how I assume anyone even notices when I disappear.

So…that’s it for tonight. I’m crashing at my brother’s place tonight to get away from She Who Must Not Be Named⁴, so I should probably go and find blankets and so forth to stop me from freezing to death on the couch (wow, what a cliche I am…sleeping on my brother’s couch, haha). Adios amigos. Be excellent to each other!

My lovely commentors: Charley, Sandalwood, Simply Precious, Caity, Georgina, Vanessa, Mimi, Julie, Angelica, Christine & Catherine.

• Feeling: a great deal of pain
• Listening to: “Lucky lisp” – Morrissey
• The weather outside: 281 Kelvins
• Cocktail of the day: Red Corvette

Yeah, I know, bad pun and a reference most of you won’t even get, but bear with me here: I’m in pain! After last week’s horrific bout of insomnia (awake for more than 3 days straight, remember?!) plus a week-long headache that still hasn’t gone away, the last I thing I needed was a toothache. And not just a normal toothache: I’m teething. At long last I seem to be getting some wisdom (teeth that is, hardy har har) and I can feel the first one breaking through. I was actually starting to assume I wouldn’t ever get any since I’m 24 now and most people I know got them in their late teens, but hey, that’s me all over: slow on the uptake. Anyway, it turns out my brother and cousins weren’t just wussy after all: it actually hurts! Ouch. Now I understand why infants do nothing but scream and cry when they’re teething.

Aside from complaining about my toothache and (only half-jokingly) asking for Farley’s rusks, I’ve had an unusually eventful weekend, having gone out both Friday and Saturday nights, then Sunday morning too. Within 48 hours that’s more weekend activity than I’d usually have in about three months (yes, I’m pretty much a hermit – how sad!), so I’m a little overstimulated now, not to mention pretty tired. Most of the activity centered around a visit from a friend who lives up the coast and going to the casino. We were able to get into Club Conrad (the high roller’s room) thanks to some connections of my mum’s, and Club Conrad basically equals free cocktails and a much swankier lounge than anywhere else. The public areas at the casino might seem more like a regular bar with scattered slot machines and blackjack tables, but Club Conrad is closer to what you’d expect casinos to be like from watching James Bond movies. Impoverished souls such as myself of course can’t afford to gamble there (the minimum starting bet on the cheapest “high roller” table is $50 per hand – no thanks!), but afterwards I won an overall total of $7.50 playing blackjack on a much cheaper ($15 per hand) table in the public area. I know, what a win! Now to decide what to spend it on…
Actually, come to think of it, I’ve already spent it today on rice crackers and a French pastry. How luxurious!

You don’t mess with the classics, and you definitely don’t mess with James Dean!

Moving on, I must say I’m not usually one for Hollywood gossip and news about upcoming movies, but I couldn’t help but snap to attention when I heard/saw that there are plans to film a remake of East of Eden next year. I won’t go into the storyline because I know I’d invariably say too much and ruin it for someone (you can always read about it on Wikipedia anyway), but just in case anyone isn’t familiar with it, this is one of the three classic James Dean movies, and also the only one released while he was still alive (Rebel without a cause was released about a month after he died, and Giant the following year in 1956). Now, call me old fashioned, but I hate the idea of a remake. As far as I’m concerned, the original was perfect as it was (and to quote a certain someone I’m always borrowing words from, “why meddle with a masterpiece?”). Not only that, but it’s also significant as James Dean’s first starring role…that makes it almost sacrosanct in my mind. Admittedly I’m probably a bit too sentimental about these things, but even so, it doesn’t even seem necessary to keep remaking movies that Hollywood actually got right the first time around (which is more than I can say for the majority of the stuff they’ve been churning out for the past decade or two). I’ll say now though that I feel sorry for whoever gets cast as Cal (Dean’s character). I mean, James Dean was Cal Trask. I imagine standing in such a shadow would be very daunting, because you know already that it’s unlikely they’ll compare favourably.

On a completely unrelated topic, it seems my poor doggy is probably going to have to have cataract surgery. I’m taking him to a specialist clinic tomorrow (well, technically later today) to see a canine opthamologist, but even his regular vet said last week that he thinks that’s what will be needed. Poor Harry! He’s naughty as hell of course (every dog that’s gone through my family has been!), but still very sweet and obviously I adore him. I’m teaching him to appreciate Morrissey’s music now. For years I’ve noticed that he gets in a huff and will actually leave the room and sulk whenever he hears the theme song to Kommissar Rex (an Austrian/German TV show about a police dog who Harry hates!), so I figure he’s capable of responding to musical cues in some way or another. I’m using the good old classical conditioning method that Pavlov used on his dogs to teach Harry to associate the first track of several CDs or my voice saying things like “Do you want to listen to Morrissey? Ooh yes you do! You like Morrissey, don’t you? That’s a good boy!” with a treat. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but it’s actually starting to work because now when he sees me turn on the stereo and Alsatian Cousin starts playing (I chose that one as a bit of a joke because the TV police dog he hates is an Alsatian ) he wags his tail and waits for the treat. Nifty, huh? Once he’s learned to appreciate Morrissey (always my first priority, and of course with humans too!) we’ll start on fetching drinks and turning the lights on and off.

So, I think I’ve rambled enough now. At least since I started writing this my toothache seems to have gone away again (it’s very fickle!), though sleep is still out of the question because I’m now listening to Breakfast with The Smiths (that radio show that everyone thinks I’m insane for getting up to stream at 2am on Monday mornings, lol). Seriously, it’s pretty much the only good thing I can rely on to actually happen on a weekly basis! And of course it’s always a bit of a thrill when the song I request gets played (because I’m relentless and request something every week, haha) or the DJ says hello to me. (Fame!) Okay, clearly I’m overtired now…

Oh, nearly forgot: questions for you to answer because I’m just so nosy.

1. Do you currently have any of your wisdom teeth?
2. Who do you think they should cast in the lead roles for the East of Eden remake? (If you say Robert Pattinson I will be forced to smack you with a soggy newspaper!)
3. If dogs or cats could train humans to perform a specific trick or task, what do you think they’d make us do?

Anyway, adios amigos. Be excellent to each other!

My lovely commentors: Simply Precious, Sandalwood, Jess, Georgina, Angelica, Ash & Shiri.