• 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: conscious
• Listening to: “Speedway” – Morrissey
• The weather outside: 288 Kelvins
• Crazy (true!) law of the day: In Washington State, it is illegal to carry a concealed weapon that is over six feet in length. (I don’t think they have anything to worry about, do you? )

You can put down the equine tranquilizers and recordings of The Ramones’ I wanna be sedated – I got some sleep. I finally managed to crash in the early hours this morning and although I’m still feeling pretty beat, it’s a definite improvement over Wednesday’s exhaustion, delirium and fatigue-induced paranoia (which only intensified in the hours to follow, but we’ll let sleeping dogs lie, eh? ) Amazingly, what seemed to actually lull me off to sleep was a DVD of Morrissey music videos. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d fall asleep halfway through November spawned a monster (one of my favourites and also the most outrageous) and it seems almost sacrilege to admit it, but hey, whatever works! Maybe it was just the comfort of something familiar. Or considering the video, mental collapse due to sensory overload.

After waking up feeling surprisingly well-rested despite not sleeping for nearly long enough to compensate for going three and a half days without, I ended up going to the South Brisbane Cemetery, which might seem weird and creepy, but it’s right up there with the local shopping centre and the Irish Club as one of my favourite hang-outs. I find it an inspiring place, and definitely peaceful. Think about it: all the people around me are dead; they’re not going to bug me! Hehe. It’s also free from almost all imaginable distractions (the fickle elements excluded), so it’s a good place to read, study (pfft!) or write, which is what I ended up doing today. Usually all I write from my hiding place behind someone’s grave is (crappy) poetry, but today I was feeling a little cranky and frustrated, so instead I drafted a short piece (an article? An essay? I don’t know) about one of my favourite old gripes with society, inspired by one of the dozens of quotes I’ve scrawled in the back pages of my writing notebook. And since I’m sure you’re all just dying to read it… (as Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory would point out, that was sarcasm )

We need to talk: conversation as a dead art

“Conversation is almost dead, and soon so too will be those who knew how to speak.”
- Guy Debord, ‘Comments on the Society of the Spectacle’

Such was Debord’s prediction in his 1988 theoretical tome, and 22 years later, the corpse long buried, I am in mourning.

In all fairness, it was easy to overlook the art of conversation’s final gasping breaths: as society embraced the digital age, the booming popularity of instant messaging and social networking sites not only lessened the need for face-to-face dialogue, but also made it more convenient. Text messaging relieved many of the trouble and cost of regular phone conversations; a convenience that far outweighed its butchering of the English language thanks to “textspeak”. With cable television and console gaming becoming not only increasingly popular, but increasingly addictive, having a friend over to simply chat rather than watch a movie or battle it out on the Wii seems an increasingly unappealing way to spend a Sunday afternoon. To make a pithy observation, these days we simply have better things to do than talk.

(Keep reading…)

Of course technology hasn’t changed humanity’s basic social urges. We still feel compelled to communicate and connect with others, and for the most part we still want our voices to be heard. It is not the idea that has changed – it is the execution of it. Outside of the often insular worlds of literature, journalism and academia, there is little market for the written word when it is presented in a thoughtful, intelligent manner. In casual company it is rare to find a group of people willing to enter into a civilized exchange of ideas without wanting to turn it into a debate over who is right and who is wrong. (Of course, the latter is never they.) In a world dominated by reality TV, Hollywood gossip and Lady GaGa music videos, it’s no surprise that the most common topics of conversation have less depth than a toddler’s wading pool and are about as intellectual as a second-rate tabloid newspaper. Even the old favourite topics – current affairs, the economy and the weather – have dwindled in popularity, and discussing matters such as politics and religion has become akin to locking two angry children in a room together to “work out their differences”. To base a conversation around art or science is almost unheard of for those not connected to either industry, and the mere mention of philosophy is greeted with bewilderment, ridicule or accusations of ostentation. Gossip and popular entertainment therefore remain the safest, most accessible topics to connect to others via, and when in many cases the primary desire is just to make that social contact in the first place, it’s logical to stick with the topics that yield the most satisfying results.

What then becomes of those who yearn for conversation based on something more substantial than the latest Twilight movie: the repressed, under-stimulated neo-philosophers? The voiceless campaigners for the resurgence of human intellect; the bedroom recluses who can only watch helplessly at the evolvement of a society whose priorities are all amiss? Those who are in a minority are always at a disadvantage, and this is the unfortunate fate of anyone who is discontent with the world as it is now. For all of modern life’s practical advancements, when it comes to the basic underlying components of human life we are moving backwards as fast as we are moving forwards.

Though the art of conversation is long dead, there may still be a sliver of hope for its rebirth worth holding on to. For the Byronic conservators of a style of interaction seemingly abandoned in a bygone era, there is perhaps a slim chance that society’s opinion will regress once the final boundary has been breached: the idea that we can only go so far before acknowledging what has been lost and trying to reclaim it. When reality TV shows lose their “charm” and Internet entrepreneurs run out of ideas for new social networking sites, perhaps conversation could be in vogue again. Like a phoenix rising from the flames; like Lazarus on his fourth day – improbable, but not impossible. In the words of the Roman philosopher Cicero, “While there’s life, I hope.”

Yes, one of my favourite complaints, as I may have mentioned before in passing. I could write forever about all the things I believe are wrong with the world, but I fear I’d become like a perpetual motion machine and I’d die of old age with still much unsaid. As my mother keeps telling me, it would probably be in my best interests to just “build a bridge and get over it!”, but that’s not a very appealing analogy when I don’t like what’s on the other side. Admittedly, I’d be willing to build the bridge – but I’d want the rest of the world to travel across it to my side!

In ground-breaking national news (if you happen to live in Australia, that is), there’s a new prime minister Down Under, and historically, also our first female one. She was only elected overnight/this morning, but already I’ve heard as much as I want to hear about the matter. I’m far too cynical to believe that the change in leadership is going to make much of an improvement (if any), and the added fervor caused by the fact that she’s a woman seems unnecessary to me. I really don’t have much of an interest in the current politics here anyway, especially considering the political party I support (The Australian Greens) is in such a minority that they don’t even have a single seat in the House of Representatives and no one I know besides myself even votes for them (my dad in particular can’t stand them, denouncing them as anything from communists to “a bunch of stupid hippies”). Of course I hope for everyone’s sake that Gillard proves to be a competent leader, but I’m really not holding my breath. And I’m still voting green in the next election.

Ironically, all the talk today about the new PM granted me my wish of an ebb to the flow of media coverage regarding the World Cup (at least locally), causing me to actually have to look up the match results online. I’m still not actually interested much in the games themselves, but I’ve been having the odd bet here and there, hehe. I won on Denmark earlier in the week, but then I lost most of it back on Mexico. Oh well – you win some, you lose some, though in my case it’s far more often the latter!

Anyway, I still have a lot of sleep to catch up on and it’s after midnight now, so good night folks! Be excellent to each other.

My lovely commentors: Caity, Simply Precious, Sandalwood, Angelica, Rena & Julie.

• Feeling: achy and breaky
• Listening to: “Jack the ripper (live)” – Morrissey
• The weather outside: 292 Kelvins
• Word of the day: Lethologica

First up, thank you for the kind comments I received on my last entry – it meant more to me than you probably realize. Rest assured I am feeling substantially less self-pitying than I was earlier in the week, so let’s get back to happy things now, like sunshine, lollipops and shirtless Morrisseys.

Or maybe I’ll just behave myself and talk about the disgracefully sirenic lure of consumerism purveyed by fashion magazines.

I got a free copy of Shop magazine on Thursday, which is an Australian fashion magazine that’s slightly less ridiculous than say, Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, but really, that’s not saying much. Amongst articles dealing with oh-so-deep and meaningful topics like who’s wearing what in Hollywood and how to wear double denim (here’s a novel idea: put your arms through the sleeves and step into the jeans feet-first! Why hasn’t anyone thought of this yet?!), there are literally hundreds of (if not a thousand or more) “featured buys”, ranging from clothes and shoes to cushions and fake deer heads to mount on your wall (what the…?). I have very little interest in fashion, so mostly I skipped through all that, but I couldn’t help but notice a few…interesting buys. For example, we have these Prada keyrings (see right). Fancy a guess at how much one of these things will set you back? $270 AUD. Seriously! (For the record, $1 AUD usually somewhere around $0.85 USD, £0.55, €0.70.) What I find the most amusing is that if they weren’t made by Prada and the exact same thing was being sold in boxes at the supermarket check-out, you could probably pick one up for $2.70, not $270! The rest of the magazine is chock-full of other atrociously priced items too: socks costing $198 per pair (seriously?! They’re socks!), a $190 thermos (yes, a thermos – like you take tea/coffee to the office in!), Hermès dinner plates for $145 apiece, and not to mention an exorbitantly priced Ralph Lauren satchel that will set you back a tidy $3995. Honestly, how can anyone justify buying a handbag for nearly $4,000 when there are people who can’t even afford to buy food?

To be fair to Shop magazine though, it’s not a complete throwaway – I’ve got it wedged under my bedroom door now to stop it from blowing closed in the wind. And who knows? If I ever decide to start using the fireplace again, it would probably be good kindling.

Moving on though, I’ve become obsessed these past few days with “babelizing” text at Lost in Translation. The basic idea is that you submit a piece of English text in the textbox and it translates it to several European languages and back to English again between each one, so that after 10 consecutive translations it becomes quite distorted. I stumbled upon it through a game at the Morrissey-Solo Forums, and I thought I’d have a bit of fun with it here too. Want to guess what the following phrases were originally?

1. Fetthaltig of Ingualmente goes, where there is no front part of the man.
2. It’ Hip of S to his with the right he angle.
3. We’ The right excluded the function, to the Magiers, the Magier the end to consider the ounce narcotic!
4. The unique method of débarasser a temptation more is to pay.
5. The USA the cleaned underclothes, if approximately in the slide bars you were worked ignited.
6. Herzlichst of the invitation, the end to feel to her in Morrissey!
7. Ingualmente descodificam hard, isn’ of these things; T?

Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to answer in the comments. (I get the feeling I’d be better off sticking with survey questions after the last quiz I posted!). Scroll down to the end of the entry to see the translations.

Ahem! After you finish reading the rest of my enthralling entry, k?

So, what else? Right…new additions to the poetry section. Oh, I know, you’re all so dreadfully sick of my soporific, pseudo-poetic rambling! I’m still posting them though on the odd chance someone actually does read them. Wine and hemlock, A tragic comedy, Off the spectrum, A cup of ice for Van Gogh’s ear, Bequeathed and Oh, Joe are all new. Teasers below (of course), picked simply because I like the name of the first one (hehe) and the second I find amusing, not just because it’s so frighteningly corny, but because I know who it was written for.

A cup of ice for Van Gogh’s ear

herein this room there lies
a gaping abyss nine feet wide
nine circles into madness
spiralling like saliva
and toothpaste down the drain
while white teeth glisten black

each unblinking face has four voices,
maybe five
a cacophony of spite and love perverse
to be arranged into syllables
soaked in wine and vinegar
to be filed and sealed with dewy dots
and if they crash into your fragile mind
you will remain unscarred

Oh, Joe

ignite the senses but dull the pain
a love to keep me safe and warm
I feel you coursing through my veins
to give me strength
and open my eyes to the world
my lips have never touched
such bitter sweetness
oh, what a shallow life I’d live
without you

I’ve been overcome this week with an urge to write letters to people. I know snail mail is so passé de mode, but there’s a certain quaint charm to it, don’t you think? I’m quite positive I’m not the only person who still likes to write letters and get real paper mail in the post (besides the ones that start with “Our records indicate your XYZ account is now 14 days overdue…”). Basically what I’m saying is I want an old-fashioned penpal (or two, or three, or seventeen…). Any takers? I’ll give you a cookie! (Literally, if you’d like – I’ll send one with my first letter! ) If anyone’s interested, please let me know (aly@geek-tragedy.net, FYI) and we’ll exchange addresses. I promise I’m not a serial killer.

Well, I’m afraid we’re out of time for tonight’s show, folks. I’ll be back sometime next week with more trash and treasure from the Alyverse! Adios amigos. Be excellent to each other!

Oops, nearly forgot the translations for the babelized texts. Here you go!
1. To boldly go where no man has gone before.
2. It’s hip to be square.
3. We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!
4. “The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it” (a quote from ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’).
5. Wear clean underwear, in case you are hit by a bus.
6. I earnestly beseech you to listen to Morrissey!
7. Hard to decipher these things, isn’t it?

My lovely commentors: Simply Precious, Shiri, Julie, Sandalwood, Monkee, Charley & Brandy. <3 (A bit behind on the comments, sorry! Will start returning them tomorrow.)

• Feeling: a bit peevish
• Listening to: “The more you ignore me, the closer I get” – Morrissey
• The weather outside: 289 Kelvins
• Bizarre metaphor of the day: Life is a purple hedgehog wearing a velour jumpsuit

Quick sort-of apology to any religious people offended by the post title – it’s just a line from a song, and one that I think is particularly fitting for me tonight (and every Friday night, really). So if you’ve got a beef with the blasphemy, take it up with Morrissey

So, I’ve had a pretty rotten day. There’s not really much to say about it though, except (Crappy Weather + Family Drama + Unusually bad insomnia + Life’s inherent suckiness) – (Money + Energy + Some parcels I’d hoped would arrive today) = 1 miserable Aly. And now to make everyone else as miserable as I am, I’m making you think about math. Hey, misery loves company! Come join me…I’ll open a bottle or two of wine and we can all whine about how much life sucks. It’ll be fun!

You want to know what’s not fun? (At least for me?) Designing layouts. Seriously, I have zilch aptitude when it comes to graphics, and I’m only marginally better at all the coding stuff, so the actual webdesign elements of running this site tend to be met with a bit of a groan and squishy-faced expression. I’m thinking it’s probably time for a new layout here (much as it will pain me to part with the current Morrissey one ), but I have no ideas and the prospect of doing new stylesheets and adjusting all the formatting is not an exciting prospect. I don’t want to use fully pre-made layouts though – I’m happy to use a base just for the basic code (I’m currently using one of Georgina’s, btw) but I want the rest of it to be mine…even if it’s pretty crappy. Bit of a bind, isn’t it? I actually have no idea why I just rambled on about that. I need to stop thinking out loud!

The poetry section has been updated at last after being abandoned for a month or two. Sublemon, sublime, Vacuum, Chimera, Old scars, Square 1, M Phase, Sinking cynic and That is all are all new. And as usual, some previews…

Chimera

trapped but still fighting
repressed but still yearning
the clap of your hands
      is music
and I dream only in song

the day is light and I cannot
open my eyes
stained and ashamed
and I am to blame
I am the abused and the abuser

the pendulum snaps
the needle is jerked
and my life song becomes distorted
I exist in two places
      two heads
      two hearts
      and four hands touching nothing

That is all

first to the fore with a forceful air
underfed and over-read
concrete walls will embrace you and
keep you safe from harm

on a spasmodic high and a gradual decline
fighting each passing year will make you
feel like Sisyphus on the hillside

time will leave us weary and
only ugly portraits can hope to save us
never one to believe in miracles
I have a feeling this is it

I’ve been wasting time looking for gimmicky things in online stores again today, and I have to say…I want some dollies! I admit that sounds 1) weird and 2) pathetic coming from a 24 year old, but look! (Below…)

Left to right: James Dean Barbie (Ken) doll, Oscar Wilde and Albert Einstein action figures, Vincent Van Gogh plushie, and Morrissey bobblehead.

Try to convince me these are not the most awesome dolls ever! First of all we have a special editon Ken doll made to resemble James Dean (including the classic outfit from Rebel without a cause), which I actually saw on eBay, but I don’t have a spare $100+ to buy it (bugger, eh?). Presumably there are other places that would sell it though. Then we have the coolest action figures ever: Oscar Wilde and Albert Einstein (needless to say, I desperately want both!). I mean, seriously, move over Batman! I would love to see two kids “battling” with these in the school playground – how cute would that be? You know, before the rest of the class beat them up. Anyway…there’s also the Vincent Van Gogh plushie, and get this: the ear is detachable with velcro. Brilliant! And last (but certainly not least, in my mind anyway), the Morrissey bobblehead. Okay, admittedly Morrissey isn’t as famous as the others, but Moz=God in my mind, so I still desperately want one of these. Why oh why are they still sold out? *sulks*

And speaking of Morrissey… *cue audience groans* …tomorrow is another “religious holiday” in the Alyverse, to celebrate his birthday. Unfortunately I have no one to celebrate this portentous event with, since no one I know offline is a Morrissey fan (they’re all mad! Mad, I say! ) and here in Loserville, Australia, there are no Smiths tribute concerts or similar events to go to. So, I will probably “celebrate” by myself, just having a celebratory drink while listening to his music, watching Who put the M in Manchester and posting at the Morrissey-Solo.com forums.
Which is pretty much what I do every day already.

Anyway, here’s some questions to finish off with.

1. What would your ideal weekend involve?
2. Random question: Do you still buy CDs or do you get most of your music via digital downloads?
3. Admit it, you want one or more of those dolls, don’t you?

I’ll be off now. Have to see a man about a horse… *cough* Adios amigos. Be excellent to each other!

My lovely commentors: Simply Precious, Sandalwood, Dawn, Alyssa, Julie, Catherine & Georgina.

• Feeling: impatient
• Listening to: “Little ole wine drinker me” – Dean Martin
• The weather outside: 293 Kelvins
• Easter egg hiding place of the day: The vegetable crisper (no child will look there!)

First of all, unless this is your first time here, you can probably see that I’ve done some major tweaking with the layout here. I found out recently that the layout was completely botched in IE and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it, so instead I’ve switched to a two-column version using one of Georgina’s bases for the all the structural stuff. I was going to make a whole new layout, but I didn’t really have the time or inclination and besides, I’m rather fond of my Morrissey layout. So apologies to those of you who don’t like him, but this layout will probably be up right through to the end of semester.

Secondly, happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it! My Easter has been about as uneventful as possible: we don’t really celebrate it now that my brother and I are adults (and even as kids it was basically just about the chocolate, lol), so it was really just a normal Sunday for me. The saving grace of this otherwise boring non-Eastery weekend though was finally getting my room painted – goodbye ugly blue floral wallpaper! I managed to talk my dad into painting the walls cream over the long weekend and it’s all done now and looking fresh and pretty. I’m actually doing a complete revamp of my room over the next few weeks, after deciding that the last lot of redecorating left my room looking far too tacky and childish. (I know it’s hard to believe, but I do have a serious side to my personality…it’s just far more reserved than my inner child ) I’ve also bought a few new sticks of furniture, including the desk you see to the left (which should hopefully arrive some time this week), a mini sideboard table with small wicker drawers, a cheap TV stand (flat-packed and waiting to be assembled *groan*), and I’ve also got a fantastic new swivel recliner chair that I salvaged from my mum’s work, hehe. I couldn’t believe they were just going to throw it away…crazy academics. Most of the wall deco is being replaced too – I’ve ordered a Bob Dylan art print with one of my favourite quotes on it and a poster of this adorable picture of Morrissey and Johnny Marr from eBay, both of which should be arriving towards the end of the week, assuming USPS and Royal Mail are a bit more efficient than Australia Post (it’s really not a hard ask, lol). I get so impatient having to wait for everything though! I’m like that Queen song…I want it all and I want it now!

Since deciding all this earlier last week (plus being sick the week before – and no, I’m still not fully recovered! Gah) I’ve been more than a little distracted from the internet, so apologies about having been so slack with comments lately. I’ve been popping in to Twitter periodically though, and I’ve also finally started using my Vanity Booth (oops, I mean Daily Booth) account a little bit, plus answering the occasional Formspring question that comes my way (hint hint!). And in case this paragraph isn’t already pitifully crying “add me, please add me!”, consider this a welcome invitation…
I know, I’m shameless.

For some reason today I felt like answering a meme. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any short ones (I’m sure no one wants to read my answers to a 48235319-question survey), so instead I tried the writing prompt thing at Word Beads. The words for this challenge were moat, holocaust, assessment, irritant and explode, and I ended up with a whole poem as the result. Parts of it still seem too forced to me, but I think it will do since it was just to kill time.

Crumbling castle, crumbling queen

gagging on silver spoons
and choked with Venetian silk
she dreams one day she’ll curl a fist
and drop rocks into her pockets
before she jumps into the moat

here lives the queen in her crumbling castle
with its tall stone towers and walls of ivy
that pierce her flesh so delicate
each time she steps outside for air
blood vessels explode beneath her skin
and her face contorts with pain

fresh air is how nature taunts the trapped
the real world mocks those who do not live in it
freedom is the irritant of those with nowhere left to go

and so she gives her orders to the white knights
and the sky errupts in a burning blaze
the castle walls crumble before her eyes
and in this flurry of destruction
with a holocaust stained on to her hands
she has never felt more alive

stepping through the smouldering rubble
she finds she now knows how to smile
and her taunting words are so very frightening
to every heart that loved her

say, father, does this please you?
does this give lustre to my crown?
I’ve become a monster and still I smile
does this fit with your assessment?

More questions for you all again, since I’m just so terribly nosy.

1. What do you have on the walls of your bedroom?
2. Do you prefer dark, milk or white chocolate?
3. Do you use sites like Daily Booth, Formspring, etc? Feel free to drop your usernames.
4. Have you ever visited a famous person’s grave? (I was just listening to Cemetery Gates, lol)
5. Quick word association! I say “cherry pie”, you think _____?

And that’s it for tonight…I need to tidy up all the mess I made earlier today so I can go to bed. So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, adieu! And of course, be excellent to each other!

My lovely commentors: Julie, Caity, Simply Precious, Angelica, Tiff K, Kelsey & Vanessa.