With the venomous kiss you gave me.

Ash's LJ entry got me in the mood for HIM. Goth, adolescent angst music still appeals; so sue me.

There are so many things I could write about so I'ma pick whatever falls into my head as I go and everything else can get left out and just deal with it as best it can until it grows up and can afford the counselling sessions that'll help it finally recover emotionally. That was a longwinded joke and not a very funny one so I should probz just get right into the proper blogging, yes? Good, let's go.

My work had its annual Christmas party last night so that was bucket loads of fun. There was some truly awful, cheap alcohol being served all night along with the massive awkwardness of an "intimate" end-of-year party for a large company of people that is inevitably rather clique-y. However, even my rather aggressive and domineering negative side can't ignore the fact that I really enjoyed myself.

I finally achieved one of my- more recent- life goals and received a real hug from Allison. I really love that girl, from her accent to her stylish yet affordable boots. I also got to watch Annie down her weight in beer. I know she weighs about thirty grams but, still, she was going for it. And a whole lot of people who are normally rather reserved got royally sloshed and started chatting to me and everybody else about everything from travelling to high school bullying to wait staff with crushes on ... well, the object of their affection was much debated all evening.

So that was my Friday night. Saturday morning was far more subdued.

Julia and I went to market and purchased lots of things; among the more interesting of our conquests were a finger puppet, elephant-shaped keyring and a dress- gasp!- for none other than Hannah herself. Oh, and we had a friand with ingredients including, but not limited to; chilli, beetroot and belgian chocolate. It was a great morning and really needs no explanation other than; I love Julia, I love vegan food, I love quirky clothing, I love markets, I love Saturday mornings and I love hippies. This particular morning had all of these things in abundance and thus, I have had a really good first-half-of-weekend.


Oh, and before I forget (HA! Never going to happen, actually);

While at the market, Julia decided to go taste some hot sauces at one stall. This young boy was manning the place and his old man told him to warn "the lady" about how to pace herself with the sauces but the boy stayed silent for a minute or two with no explanation about any of the products. Julia tried one such item called "Dragon's Blood" with a heat rating of "10/10" - she ignored me when I suggested starting with the "2/10" range- and complained after having one or two drops that she needed more because it did nothing for her. So, a good dollop later, we discover that the boy behind the counter actually has a voice when he says "it takes two minutes to reach full hotness". Julia's eyes widen as quickly as a VCE student's waistline during exam period and for the next couple of minutes she gets steadily more teary eyed and starts coughing.

I am beginning to hope this guy is actually an adolescent descendant of a native American tribe where the men turn into werewolves so that he can reach full physical maturity, develop an awesome personality and confess a strong attachment to me and my weird emotional screwed-upedness; all so I can marry him today for being so thoroughly spot on with his timing. Then the kid just smiles, watches Julia take a swig from her drink bottle and says "Water makes it worse."

It's not faith if, if you use your eyes.

I thought after my last- very ugly- post (I read it back and wanted to cut off my own fingers to stop myself ever writing anything so vitriolic ever again. Ugh, it was bad. Apologies.), I might try writing about less... stupid? topics.

My life is nice and boring right now. Work and seeing friends. Every now and then I know I really am inhabiting my "old lady" moniker when I get really happy in my battiness.

I've started talking to the characters in the books that I'm reading when there's no one else in the settlement room with me. I giddily drink in the smell of pine leaves in buildings prematurely decorated for Christmas. And I lament my aching feet to anyone that will listen.

Oh, and just to be uber positive in this entry; here is an overdue quote for you (from last week).

Heard:

"It's the awesome threesome!" - Amanda at work describing me, Annie and Allison. I do love those girls.

I am Heathcliff.

School seems to infiltrate everything. Especially with me. I can't live in the world without relating it back to what I was told by this teacher or that textbook. I quote everything. Nothing I say is mine. I'm made of other people's ideas.

I argue with my mother about Kyle Sandilands and it becomes a question of media censorship and the idea of uses and gratifications (I say there should be no editing or delay because people have a right to both hear and be heard when it comes to self expression, Michelle says that if someone is being thoroughly outrageous editing is important). I'm regurgitating other people's arguments: think Marilyn Manson and Michael Moore, among others, in Bowling for Columbine. Or, basically, the summary by Evelyn Beatrice Hall of Voltaire's conviction: "I disagree with what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it."

I discuss the situation my father and I share at work with Annie and it becomes some revision of Goffman's Front stage, Backstage theory. I bring up Anthropology practices while shopping for vegetables at the market. I quote novels when people ask me how I feel.

I can't help but assume that I'll never say anything as well as someone else will. Why try and compete? Maybe T.S. Eliot had a good thing going with the Waste Land. If I beg, borrow and cadge other people's phrases, perhaps I'll seem brilliant and not just plain boring.

So when I try to explain how and why I always express myself with other people's words ... I'll use other people's words.

Kitch Lit.

I haven't updated in a while and I am uber tired so this'll be a rather untidy and possibly overlong post. Deal with it, hag. Yes, Annie, that last sentence was directed at you.


This is absurdly minute as far as irritating things go but I'ma blog about it anyway just because I can. I am a vegan and thus use vegan cookbooks. So far, so semi-good (I know I just lost most people at "vegan", let alone "cookbook", but bear with me). But every time the cookbook says "almond essence", "pine nuts", "peanut oil" et cetera I have to substitute stuff 'cause I happen to be allergic to nuts. And I can't help thinking I'm altering, perhaps too much so, the flavour or texture or general character of certain dishes. Like this batch of chocolate-raspberry cookies I made using coconut essence instead of the aforementioned almond. I couldn't taste the raspberry; I just got the added bonus of nervous worry about getting raspberry seeds in my gaping- wisdom teeth related- wounds. Don't get me started on the pesto issues...

Since workmates read this thing now I'ma give them a shout out. Sirpozedly I don't mention work in my blog much so here we go. Casual settlements clerk. Yes, I got an ENTER that assured my seeming attractive so far as young employees go but now I actually work there people know I'm actually a total ditz. But aside from my being a wee bit of a silly lass, I have some loverly friends there. If you're reading this guys, I really do appreciate you. I like Allison's shopping addiction and the adorable outfits that result (I really do love those shoes). I like that Annie walked halfway to the train station with me the other day so I wouldn't complain about her ditching me to go home to surprise her Mum. I like Jason's being uber smart and driven but also really modest so it takes half a day of me badgering him before he tells me he aced last semester at Uni.

I had another movie night Friday the other night, this time with Maddee, and it was great. Manhattan was a really funny and sort of creepy/sweet movie where this 42 year old guy is in love with a 17 year old girl. Sounds interesting enough until I tell you that Maddee and I watched Juno directly afterward where a 16 year old girl is hitting on her middle aged teacher; "I love Woody Allen". Hello?! I tried saying this to all these people and no-one really got my point until I finally told my Dad (who loves Woody Allen films, actually named me after one, but thinks the guy himself is a total creep) and he did that cheeky grin he does. Great guy, my Dad.

So speaking of this weird film immersion thing I've been doing recently- seriously, it's basically been my life of late- I'm rather sorry I paid to watch Baby Mama. Only $1, mind, but it was still a waste. Note to self: never, ever, go watch a film just because Tina Fey is in it unless you're completely sure she wrote it herself.

On that note, I'ma go do that white, middle class girl thing I do so well where I have the absolute best time shopping at Officeworks.



Heard:

"That's generally what happens next in an argument between males." - Maddee.

"Ass-tet-ick... is that the word?"- Annie.