breaking it down

somewhere over the rainbow

2005-08-22T21:31:00.000+09:30

quick, find the cd. it's got to be in this pile. drop some. keep searching. open coldplay cases to check. blow off dust from that forgotten nina simone cd. spread cds out across the desk. quickly. it's coming. where is it? it has to be here!

found it.
open it.
hands shaking. cliches abound.
presh the button. insert the cd. hurry.

track seven. play.

repeat.

have you ever rushed to find that song? hoping to fend off a sudden wash of sadness?
only to find it bruising your ear drums, not soothing them? completely incompatible. completely ineffective. the mood stays like a beetroot stain on white pants. immovable. determined. glaring back at you, self-assured and confident of it's own staying power, and its ability to ruin everything.

i'm glad music isn't my god.

don't take it personally

2005-08-20T19:46:00.000+09:30

once upon an hour there was a sad little teddy bear that couldn't speak. he could think though very fast and very smart. so he thought and thought hoping that if he thought hard enough his head would explode in a torrent of fast smart words and bits of fluff.
unfortunately the sad little teddy bear miscalculated the ratio of smart words to fluff, and the explosion was far less spectacular than he'd dreamed. the ragged giraffe sniggered at the tiny POOF noise the sad little teddy bear's head made when its smart and fast and fluffy contents escaped. no one even noticed the gems of thought hidden among the bits of sad little teddy bear brain--or, if they did, they mistook them for silvery sparkly flecks of glitter.

so can we just try a resurrection? and prop up this fallen down plan?

2005-08-20T19:22:00.000+09:30

it's really hard when you want something heaps and heaps but god doesn't seem forthcoming and seems to be telling you to wait and to learn and to be patient but patience is the least thing you feel yourself capable of. and when you can't help but be massively selfish and concerned only with your own personal happiness. and when you can't control your head and make it blurt out answers to assessment tasks all the while sitting at home because said assessment tasks are overshadowing everything and seem more important than jumping around to songs about pirates and hanging out with cool people and getting fatter on krispy kremes. yet not important enough to make you stop thinking about what you want heaps and heaps and make you stop resenting the fact that god has something different planned for you and all you feel is anger towards those who have what you want and guilt about feeling anger towards those who have what you want and about resenting the god whose grace sets your place at the feast of eternity and whose glory deserves to be your only concern.

it's a sad day when you notice the advertisements for online personals sites that sit at the bottom of the msn messenger window. not that you want to click on them coz even to notice them is pathetic enough and just adds to everything.

rediscover

2005-08-19T14:26:00.000+09:30

Poor little, sad little blue Bluesette

Dont you cry, don't you fret,

You can bet one lucky day you'll waken,

And your blues will be forsaken,

Some lucky day lovely love will come your way.

If there is love in your heart to share,

Dear Bluesette don't despair

Some blue boy is waiting just like you,

To find a someone to be true to,

Two loving arms you can nestle in to stay.

Get set, Bluesette,

True love is coming,

Your lonely heart soon will be humming.

Pretty little Bluesette,

Musn't be a mourner,

Have you heard the news yet,

Love's 'round the corner.

Love wrapped in rainbows and tied with pink ribbons

To make your your next springtime

Your gold wedding ring time.

chicken out

2005-08-16T20:49:00.000+09:30

someone was pretty keen to get me into their car tonight!

really? who? did he have a nice car?

nice car? not really. you know him pretty well actually.

in breaking news, gomez's latest album split the difference is hot. like pancakes. it's shaped like a pancake too, come to think of it. like circular and stuff.
anyway, apart from the fact that apparently it reminds me of delicious food, i reckon it's up there with the best cds i own. i bought it on the weekend and it's making all my other cds jealous because i wont take it out of my cd player. my eardrums heart it.

smoke

2005-08-14T14:53:00.000+09:30

our God is a consuming fire.
cutting off the oxygen
to my sin
suffocating me strangling me sunny swirls
engulfing me
like a child trembling and trapped in a burning building
i cower
clutching adam's inheritance
desperately seeking to deny His power
and assert my own.
learning
(i've repeated kindergarten many times)
to let Him extinguish the blackened soot inside my heart.
to close my mouth on solid food.

our God is a consuming fire.
burning my cross.
cauterising my nature.

our God is a consuming fire.
charring the ground before me
parting the seas
cooking up perfection in the pot of the universe
letting it bubble up
and
over
the sides
scalding my skin
leaving only scars of discipline.

our God is a consuming fire.
from up on a mountain
to up on a cross
lighting the way home.

therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for "our God is a consuming fire."
hebrews 12: 28-29

to the israelites the glory of God looked like a consuming fire on top of the mountain.
exodus 24: 17

but be assured today that the Lord your God is the one who goes across ahead of you like a devouring fire.
deuteronomy 9: 3

with a limp and a snow-shaker huh

2005-08-13T16:26:00.000+09:30

today god reminded me that i have enough money reliably each month to sponsor a child, so i've started sponsoring basil from uganda. he's seven. i felt really bad choosing a child, so i got the world vision website to choose basil for me.

some other stuff happened today, but it pales in comparison. into a gross egg-planty kind of colour.
i thought about summer. it was a bad idea. to think about it, not summer itself. god's whole seasons idea works pretty well.
i ate left-over penne with chilli in it. plus, it tasted nice.
i wore my asian jumper that says 'heroic rendezvous' on it and has a couple holding hands and the girl is holding a furry green bag with her other hand. maybe if i get a furry green bag the boy will come with it. like, buy a green bag get the boy free. or even just half-price or something.

if you know how to run, sweet virginia, you should run

2005-08-12T11:46:00.000+09:30

so i've cut out some stuff from my average week (because i have average weeks so often) and my head is a little less heavy. i showed bel how my head tilts dramatically to the side because it's so full and she laughed. not with tears though, so i guess it wasn't that funny after all.

yesterday i got all pretty and went to uni and went to one lecture and chilled in da club with people until the sun gave up and walked away. it was cold but because i'm stupid and superficial and take everything on appearances i looked out the window and went wow it's sunny as, it's a beautiful day, forgetting the significant effect of winds that had packed up their belongings and buckled the kids in the back and travelled from antarctica to the sky just over sydney university for a vacation. possibly meeting their family friends the alaska winds en route and joining forces for holiday fun.

so there i was in my hell eighties jumper that has holes cut in it so it leaves my shoulders bare. too bad there wasn't more purple in my outfit because it would have matched the colour of my lips whenever i ventured into the windy vacation. can anyone else see my prediction of impending typhoon coming true imminently? this could break the tradition of my theories never ever in 46 bijillion years actually working out on the true side.

another downside of hell eighties jumper is that paul has easy access to my shoulders with a ball point pen and a girly giggle. soon i was the proud owner of two inky tattoos. apparently i love my mum and paul woz here.

kerensa was there too and so was esther because i am magnetic and they couldn't stay away. it was funny when people asked them what they study and ker had to say she doesn't even go to this campus and esther had to say she doesn't even go to this university.

when kerensa and i get new bodies in heaven, we're going to be extremely well endowed.
*dances like a giraffe*

the music's much too loud

2005-08-07T13:48:00.000+09:30

just when my head seems set to fall off my neck it's so heavy and full and when i've never been so confused about everything in my life and when i feel like crying every two minutes, my parents are all we think this week you need to step back and reassess the way you spend your time alix you can't do everything alix you have to spend more time at home alix you're going to regret this later alix it's detrimental to your health alix you're not dedicating enough time to your uni work alix let alone your family alix.

what they mean to say is don't spend so much time doing church stuff.

i was really proud of myself, because even though my head was bubbling with anger and my heart was consumed with pain at their lack of understanding about the importance of spending time with god and his people, i just said mhm nice and calm when they asked if i understood what they were saying.

but a little bit of doubt crept in, the door creaking at the back of my head. because i'm really feeling like i just can't deal at the moment. i'm so confused that i don't even know what i'm confused about. when people ask me how i am i am genuinely lost for words. maybe i am doing too much? uni is seeming so big. last semester i got by without doing any readings, but i just can't afford that this term. the way all my assessments are set out seems so simple printed neatly in black ink on slightly crumpled white paper, but in reality--when juxtaposed with all my other commitments--it seems insurmountable. even though i know that whenever i feel like i can't do something, god carries me, i know almost as completely that i'm going to be hanging on by my fingernails to the cliff of the d average. my fingernails have always been thin and brittle. what if i fall? what satisfaction it was to bring home hds last semester. but what if my parents are proved right? what if i can't cope?

at the very moment i'm teetering on the edge of everything, my parents give me a little nudge.

usually the reassess the way you spend your time lecture leaves me annoyed but unmoved.
but at the moment...
at church i lead youth group on fridays, i help organise young adults social ministry on every second saturday, i lead singing every two weeks on sundays, and every sunday i'm not singing i help out with a youth group bible study before the service. i go to bible study on tuesday nights. i'm reading luke with a couple of the youth group girls during the week.
at uni i go to equip training on mondays, i poster for eu on tuesdays, i go to bible study on wednesdays, i go to eu public meeting on thursdays, and i go to studentlife on thursday nights. and i've just put my name down to get involved with walk-up ministry.
and i'm trying to keep up with and pray for five of my non-christian friends at uni, and keep up connections with heaps of friends who are at various stages in their christian walk.
and, of course, maintain my own relationship with god.

not that it's about time, or that i begrudge doing it at all (it gives me more joy than anything else), but not including hanging out with christian mates or my own bible reading and praying, that equates to almost twenty hours of christian stuff in an average week--more if i have to write a bible study for youth group or something like that. i have twelve contact hours at uni a week. i work about six to eight hours a week. i've basically given away any kind of exercise but i'm hoping to add four hours of swimming training a week to my schedule this semester.

what do you think?

who i am hates who i've been

2005-08-02T21:25:00.000+09:30

i wish someone would just sit me down and explain it to me.
why i have a fair amount of clarity regarding other people's problems, but my own make my head explode. why it's so easy for me to see when others need to trust god more, but so very difficult for me to see past me driving my own destiny along this bumpy road, without my Ls, in a car that seems to only have one wheel, in the pouring rain, going in the wrong direction, on the wrong side of the road.

sometimes i convince myself that i'm growing, i'm changing, i'm learning, i'm maturing. into something more than i have been. but then i tip over the half-full cup and it empties out all over my carefully constructed facade, smudging the lines, blurring the pretty picture. and i'm still a sixteen year old punk, no idea and no class.
sorry, what? i'm twenty?
no, i'm pretty sure i'm still sixteen. no idea. no class. wide-eyed and air-headed.

"it'll sort itself out. even though it doesn't seem like it will."
how can i have the gall to suggest this to someone else?
sorry, what? i'm a hypocrite?

damn straight.

oops i did it again

2005-08-01T21:03:00.000+09:30

oh, by the way: i turned twenty last sunday.

i forgot to mention it. :)

but don't worry...i'm still not a girl, but not yet a woman (britney is so, like, profound).
and there's plenty of teenage angst in me yet.

permanent stain

2005-07-29T15:27:00.000+09:30

show me the moshpit! says:
bel ive TOTALLY got issues
bel that's all it took, just one look says:
we fully need a boy chat
show me the moshpit! says:
fully
show me the moshpit! says:
come tomorrow and we will fix ourselves
show me the moshpit! says:
and the world
show me the moshpit! says:
and stuff
bel that's all it took, just one look says:
yeah

i'm nothing on my own

2005-07-29T13:50:00.000+09:30

i think god is laughing at me playing with my mind tripping my feet messing up my hair smudging my glasses refilling my nail polish bottles letting my purple uni bag eat my phone delaying the trains stopping time speeding time up answering my prayers lavishing his goodness asking me to dance in the rain dance in my room dance on the way home compelling me to laugh as hard as bel when she cries requesting i sing to him or just to the birds making my cd skip a beat or two spilling the ink in my pens directing my hand across the page telling me to sleep more drink more water exercise my body opening my eyes de-cluttering my heart saying alix stop and
smell
the
roses

all the cool kids at the back of the bus

2005-07-26T20:41:00.000+09:30

i blog when nothing is happening.
when things are happening, i am too busy to blog.

three weeks of holidays passed like the arts football team at eu annual conference. we won, by the way. with a few killer sprints by jacob, and some impressive work by the second and third years in the middle. (it was even impressive to me, and the only thing i know about football is that it involves a football.) sitting in media today, i wrote sparse notes partly in muted disbelief at the fact that i was sitting on a hard, wooden seat in the physics building. physics? yeah, that's my specialty. along with sarcasm. why was i back at uni after only being away for about two days? (the hard wooden bit wasn't that hard to believe.) that's what it felt like. a whirlwind weekend of holidays, and then back at it.

don't get me wrong. i like, even heart, uni. the sitting-in-the-nerd-room-giggling-at-spally's-insane-scatting, laying-in-the-sun-thinking-about-stuff, etc etc etc, part. but when the english lecturer started talking about assessments and showed us the brick that will be masquerading as my english text this semester, my disbelief melted into a serious desire to be cashing in on the beautiful weather...outside a lecture hall. in fact, outside of sydney uni.

ancon was wow personified. or maybe ancon-onified. it didn't disappoint.
~ jesus christ is the church
~ saved by grace, church by grace
~ the best study group i've ever been in
~ rad chats about pentecostal churches
~ some more thought about women teaching in the church
~ made some madcool friends
~ slept less than 14 hours total

the highlight for me was the last night, which spal has affectionately dubbed the night of the living dead. the teaching was amazing, don't get me wrong, and that was definitely the most rewarding part, but the last night was probably one of the best nights of my life. you know when you're so tired it's almost like being drunk? slightly delirious, devoid of inhibitions (in an innocent way)...just insanely happy and crazy and fun, not caring that you are being an idiotic child. it's great. i may have turned twenty two days ago but i'm not going to stop cherishing those awesome times any time soon. so much fun!

i'm a poet:

N ever went to bed
I ntermittedly quoted teen girl squad and blackbooks
G ot some tips on how to tell if a boy likes you, from a real life boy
H angman without the hangman, gibberish hangman, wingdings hangman
T ower of jenga blocks turned into a bridge of jenga blocks

O pps! conditioned a boy's hair with milk...while he was running away from me
F ound a lost drummer out in the cold and pulled up some carpet for him to sleep on

T ried to play spotlight but then...forgot to play spotlight
H ardcore five: esther, mat, sebastian, spal, me
E njoyed some lovely dancing with spally

L istened to coldplay and ben folds five and some bad 80s piano musuk
I watched other people play 500
V ery sneakily stole the science faculty's milk while singing the mission impossible theme
I t was very messy in that room by the morning
N ow and again fell over and sustained bruises
G reat renditions of crying out loud songs and vegietales songs, we did

D evoured a bowl of milo
E ep there aren't enough things that start with e
A lmost fell asleep at about 5.3oam
D saw a stunning sunrise...d

ok, so maybe i'm not a poet.

brat pack

2005-07-25T15:28:00.000+09:30

what is more dull than a discreet diary? one might just as well have a discreet soul.
henry channon

another stupid lovesong

2005-07-17T01:37:00.000+09:30

sometimes
you're betrayed by a smile.
an uncontrollable grin
you fight to keep off your face.
you risk revealing something to others, sure.
but mainly
you risk
revealing something to yourself.

does the heart smile on the inside too?

everything’s a hustle but love

2005-07-16T23:27:00.000+09:30

TO [insert own name here],

wow!

exams are no more than a glimpse of foggy scenery from the window of a moving train.
queensland is but a memory of sore feet, good food, creaking hotel sofa beds, shiny themeparks and sparkly views.

i can't believe my last post is a diatribe about exams. i've gotten my mark for history but none of the others are yet available. i'm happy with it. [read into that assessment what you will, hehe.] apart from this numerical reminder, the exams seem rather distant. it's simply brilliant the way things which foster self-doubt and stress, because of the attachment of unnecessary significance to them, are unfailingly revealed in all their insignificant glory as god pushes time forward.

and now i'm in my pjs at my laptop, and nothing has changed. two weeks older, a mere few days until i step out of the teens and into my twenties, but ostensibly no different. no tan because sunscreen is my friend, so no outward change...well, actually, i guess my hair is longer and the colour i covered it up with duller. my head, admittedly, is newly filled with john stott's the cross of christ and the opening chapters of 1 corinthians, and my ears are newly soothed by mae's the everglow.

but i would be lying if i said that i didn't feel a little dejected when i got home and it seemed like nothing had changed. not that i expected it to, really. i hadn't thought about it. i don't feel particularly missed...a feeling due basically entirely to my own over-tired melancholic self-centred need for welcome home baloons and chocolatey proclamations of undying friendship (just kidding--though i'll never turn down chocolate).

meh. good night.

HEART, ALIX

ps. i missed everyone stacks. more than stacks.
pps. please excuse my over-tired melancholic self-centred need to use flowery, pretentious vocab.

there must be a door in the back of my head

2005-06-28T00:28:00.000+09:30

not only do i have the capacity to believe two completely opposite and contradictory things equally and at once, but it seems now that i am able to want one thing and do things to completely ruin any chances of me getting what i want. consciously.

case in point: i am sitting at my laptop, though my back is aching, though i am tired. i am talking on msn, though i promised myself i wouldn't, though i'm probably going to get myself stuck into four-hour conversations. i am not snuggling under my doona wearing three pairs of socks, though the rest of my fam have tucked themselves in. the repercussions of this? i will not be able to heave myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of nine tomorrow morning in order to start studying for my exam on wednesday. i will be tired all day and unable to think straight. which means i will stress all tomorrow and the next day, and not do very well in my exam (let alone the one i have on thursday). in case you hadn't realised, doing well in these exams is the thing that i want. i do. really. i promise.

and yet
i am totally aware that by staying up and ruining my study plans and my body clock
and therefore
i am totally complicit in sabotaging my chances of getting what i want.

but i do love dnms, even if they're online. i would abolish small talk if i had a choice. and open up my bible in every conversation.

this is what it sounds like, when...

2005-06-26T23:36:00.000+09:30

last week at church we were challenged to learn to be attracted to godly people.
the good news?

i think i'm learning.

sunny silhouette

2005-06-26T16:32:00.000+09:30

i'm looking forward to...

*reading corinthians 1 and 2*

*going on rollercoasters at the gold coast theme parks*

*not having to feel guilty about posting blog entries or talking on msn*

*eu annual conference*

*seeing lior at caringbah bizzos with cool kids*

*seeing anberlin at the gaelic with more cool kids, on my birthday*

*becoming more mature*

spread my wings (lord won't you now)

2005-06-23T17:44:00.000+09:30

there's a university in america that offers a subject in blogging.
imagine if aussie universities got imaginative too. i would suggest a subject, or maybe even a degree, in procrastinating. it would set you up spectacularly for working for the government, especially for the tax office! if they introduced that, i think my talents would be better invested by enrolling in it. i am ridiculously good at procrastinating. this entry, in fact, this blog, is irrefutable evidence of that fact.

i manage to sit at my desk for four days in a row, and at the end of it find my brain full of
a.) a detailed understanding of the difference between stabilo boss and faber-castell pink highlighters
b.) memorised lyrics by lior, missy higgins and the john butler trio
c.) a vision of the holidays
d.) trivial facts vaguely related to the subject matter i'm supposed to be studying
e.) calculations of how much my phone bill increases during months when i have exams

and my desk full of
a.) lists of 'to do' lists
b.) post-it notes stuck haphazardly reminding me of phone numbers and email addresses of uni friends i desperately need to contact to um, compare notes (shifty eyes)
c.) coffee cups with the remnants of the hot chocolate i consume once an hour
d.) pages of doodles
e.) cds i've rummaged through in order to find the best 'study music'

the exams for procrastination 101 would be brilliant. it wouldn't matter what the question was--you'd be guaranteed a high distinction if you handed in a page or so of scrawly drawings and random song lyrics. and perhaps a comparison of various pink highlighters.

in the meantime, i just realised that i've done a lot of bible-reading this week. partly because i've been a bit *down*, and yeah, probably because i'm looking for something better to do than memorise the various reasons president johnson chose to invade vietnam with 125 000 combat troops in july 1965. (and yes i had to check my notes that it was actually 125 000, and that it was in july 1965.) and it certainly is better. i will take hebrews 9:14 (how much more, then, will the blood of christ, who through the eternal spirit offered himself unblemished to god, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living lord!) to the grave, and beyond. but call me weird, but i highly doubt that 125 000 and july 1965 will stick with me til then. heck, i doubt they'll stick with me til my exam tomorrow!

sounds gracing my eardrums: missy higgins, you only like me coz i'm good in bed

you make it easy

2005-06-22T20:36:00.000+09:30

god has taught me so much these last six months. it's ridiculous how much i've grown (like 10cm, haha i think i got my dad's sense of humour). it's incredible and wonderful and frightening.

i really want to say something, and it can't wait til after exams, so i'm going to do a dodgy job of saying it now.

god has surrounded me with so many fantastic christian guys this year. i'm not going to name them because most of them would hate the publicity and all of them know that they owe everything to god anyway. i think i thank my girlfriends all the time for being there for me...which is right and good, and, keeping in mind how screwed up my head is sometimes, they've really earned it by offering their ears and their hearts. but i think--i know--i neglect my male friends. i don't want to get too psychoanalytical on you all, or too mushy either, but: it's true that i don't like being single and that it's easy to blame guys, in general, for that fact. which is completely and utterly appalling. but it's the way my sinful mind connects the dots sometimes. it's true also that there have been times when guys haven't treated me particularly well, intentionally or otherwise. but there are so many more times guys have been wonderful to me. in the end, i remember the beautiful times and forget the rest.

thank you to my guy friends who respect and love me as their sister. thanks for being there for me and putting up with me, just as my girlfriends do. you are a blessing to me.

and i'm deeply sorry if i have offended any of you by posting ridiculous comments about the male variety on this blog. know that those comments are the result of the melodrama that inspires so many of these blog entries, and undoubtedly my insecurities and my attention-seeking.

please pray for me that i will find comfort in my relationship with christ jesus, and not take out my frustrations on the (undeserving) male race.

much love,
alix

i got the blues, brother

2005-06-21T10:40:00.000+09:30

ten reasons i am alone:

one. i expect too much.

two. i'm very annoying.

three. i can't trust my own feelings to even know if i actually do like someone.

four. most days, i'm a train wreck loosely disguised by a perky pony tail and some colourful clothes.

five. i'm ridiculously self-involved.

six. i don't own any tact.

seven. i'm impatient as and ruin everything before it has a chance to begin.

eight. i'm too far from the gentle and quiet spirit that a godly guy is looking for.

nine. creation is groaning; everything is out of order.

ten. god wants me to be alone right now.

five reasons i don't like being in like with a boy:

one. it brings out the very worst in me: jealousy, exhibitionism, etc etc.

two. i explode everything in my head and it takes on an unhealthy life of its own.

three. i become ridiculously preoccupied and neglect my relationship with god.

four. it's scary. and besides, boys are stupid and we should throw rocks at them.

five. whenever someone likes me, i don't like them. whenever i like someone, they don't like me. it's a vicious cycle.

one reason i'm being all angsty and dumb:

one. i'm struggling to be content, even though god has given me the secret to contentment.

as cold and numb as you

2005-06-19T15:38:00.000+09:30

there is a glass window. with curvy, brash, childlike letters slapped upon it. G O O D M O O D. rose-coloured glass. i have looked through it for the past three weeks--a record amount of time.

last night, the shrill, piercing high notes of the proverbial opera singer started to splinter the glass. cracks appeared, shots of the dull world behind the rose glass seeping through.

today, the glass shattered.

this race / there's no first place / at all

2005-06-18T14:42:00.000+09:30

therefore do not worry about tomorrow,
for tomorrow will worry about itself.
each day has enough trouble of its own.
matthew 6:34

i feel like god has implanted that verse into my head. matthew 6 has come up--in conversation, in studies, in sermons, in prayers--an uncanny number of times, ever since that day after trials last year: i flicked my bible open in a mood of despair, and that chapter came up. god blessed. god sent.

a little while ago we had a discussion bible study, where we got to grill two visiting moore college students. a chance to bring up any questions or comments. i'm not sure how, but yet again matthew 6 surfaced, fought its way past all the other verses and books and jumped into the middle of the discussion. one of the students said something that has really challenged me this term.

"i think it's easy to forget that worrying is a sin."

now: exams. and i am not stressed at all. partly because they are still a week away. but mainly coz the minute i start to feel a twinge of anxiety in my stomach or start thinking through the prospect of--shock--getting a credit, god just goes, all matter-of-factly, echoing in me, duuude. what are you doing? don't you think i've got it under control? whatchu doing girl?

sounds gracing my eardrums: what if, coldplay

bananas (b-a-n-a-n-a-s!)

2005-06-16T16:05:00.000+09:30

i'm in the process of writing notes on online journalism. yes i've started studying! and it's only the sixth day of uni study break! i'm slowly making my way through a chapter of david conley's dirge-like textbook, the daily miracle: an introduction to journalism (2nd edt. though why anyone would agree to re-publish such convoluted and verbose writing is beyond me).

and i come across this:

"When the author was twenty he did an internship

with his small hometown newspaper in the USA.

This meant both writing stories and taking photographs."

how incredibly stupid does that sound? i mean, i know virginia woolf thought that "'I' is only a convenient term for somebody who has no real being" (no really, she did), but come on--why the paranoid refusal to articulate that letter. the letter i. I. it makes me want to repeat the letter i (I I I I I) as many times as i can, like when my sisters and i used to shout 'die die die die die' at the tv's personified energizer battery whenever that ad came up and he said smugly 'never say die!'

wow, study makes me witty as. and hella sarcastic.

as if it's not enough to show the pretentious insecurity of a journalist scared of the 's' word (subjectivity), 'the author' continues thus:

"From the beginning it was clear that simultaneously

thinking text and pictures put me at a disadvantage

with other media that could send both a reporter

and a photographer to a news event."

like, what? so then he embraces 'me'? and goes on to use 'i' repeatedly, apparently without any qualms?

i can't be expected to work under these conditions.

spies

2005-06-15T14:54:00.000+09:30

i don't think it is possible to live as a christian inside the big brother house.

suppose, against all odds, a christian made it onto the show. quite apart from having to reconcile themselves with the idol-worship encouraged by the reality genre--with the prospect of being elevated as a celebrity based solely on the merits of your personality, of walking down to the stage high with the exhilaration of popularity, selfishly won--i think the house is fundamentally, diametrically opposed to the christian life.

1. no reading matter permitted
this means no bibles. god's word is the sustenance of the christian walk. it fuels our steps closer to the living lord; by it we learn to fashion our lives more closely to jesus' example and so grow an intimate relationship with our father. the christian person has to give up the privilege of god's word not for a few days, but potentially for three months straight! i know how terrible i feel (not a guilty feeling, because i'm saved by faith not works, but i find it emotionally draining to face the world without god's word in my ear) and how much the world seems to crash in and permeate my sight if i neglect my bible-reading for more than a week. three months? unimaginable for the mature christian dependent on solid food.

2. nominations = bitchiness
each housemate must nominate others to determine the candidates for eviction. not only must they, critically and judgmentally, single out others...but they must provide reasons for voting. a lot of the time the housemates struggle for reasons to nominate, and for answers to the all-important question: 'how does that affect your time in the house?' so yes, a christian could vote purely on the basis of things like not helping out, or not cleaning. but then they would have to provide a personal justification...explain how their housemate not cleaning makes them 'feel'. i can't see that this isn't anything other than forced bitchiness. even if, somehow, the christian housemate is able to dispassionately nominate and provide dispassionate but sufficient reasons for doing so, the nomination process sets up a context in which one is encouraged to be overly critical of others.

3. nudity and depravity
this series in particular, sees a house populated with a bunch of losers--in my opinion anyway. usually there's one or two decent housemates that have you on side from the beginning. trev last year. reggie the year before. just likeable, good-natured, fairly down-to-earth people. i watched the first episode of this series because, well, it's nice to have some mindless but addictive tv to break up all the study etc. i guess my overall impression looked a lot like the little 'shocked' emoticon on msn messenger. now, i'm pretty naive (proudly so), but i'm not completely ignorant of the secular world of the sexually promiscuous 20-something. hell, i saw some pretty crazy stuff on the schoolies cruise last year. nonetheless, i was shocked by this batch of housemates. more than one of the women declared that other women hate them because they're jealous of their beauty and talents. or something to that effect. almost every male housemate announced that they treat women badly. the criteria for housemates this year was that they were single. further criterion are added when one considers that the sydney auditions involved producers asking candidates what the most outrageous (implying sexual) thing they would do in the house...and then proceeding to ask them to demonstrate those acts. accordingly, this season has seen marathon kissing sessions and questionable activity in a rewards-room bath. i mean, come on, the producers set up a pole dancing area in the house! and one housemate bought a kinky nurse's outfit in!
interestingly, big brother's ratings have dropped since last year. it would seem that a newly sexually-charged house isn't exactly what the public had in mind. i'm both surprised and glad about this.
but what of a christian amongst the drunken stupors and crude jokes? or, even, amongst a bathroom of housemates who, bar one i think, choose to shower completely naked (and together) in front of the entire country? i have been thinking a lot about what i wear, and what is appropriate for me to wear to church in order to be loving to my christian brothers. it's a telling contrast: me choosing jeans over a miniskirt, the housemates choosing neither.

this is all hypothetical. i doubt a christian would ever pass the auditions in the first place, particularly this season with its new and 'improved' criteria. and, even if the producers slipped and accidentally let in a rogue christian, as if they wouldn't be voted out in the first eviction! a christian with a peace-making streak and a passion not for threesomes but for the bible...i don't need to wonder how that would go down on national television.

i think it'd be cool to chuck a christian in there, to exaggerate by comparison the craziness of that house. it'd be mad to publicise the purity and goodness of christianity, to provide a christian example to mainstream australia. but it just wouldn't--and couldn't--happen.

miss independent

2005-06-14T17:39:00.000+09:30

today, a girl pushed in front of me when getting off the train.

she walked up the stairs a little before me, since she'd pushed in front of me.

she was short, perhaps indian. fine cheekbones and clear skin. long, straight black hair violated on the ends by orange-red hair dye. pulled back tightly in a neat, perky bun. she wore a figure-hugging black pinstripe suit, which accentuated her small waist and shapely hips. pink, shiny beads dropped from her earlobes and, with the hint of surprise that accompanies eclectic elements, a bright sky-blue astroboy bag dropped from her padded, tailored shoulder.

i noticed all this detail because she led the way down to the traffic lights and, after lighting up a cigarette with one hand--a business-like, snappy movement--and thumping the round silver button impatiently with the other, she pushed in front of me again on the other side of the road.

i had to walk extra slow to avoid the cloud of pernicious grey smoke that flared up around her pretty head rhythmically. inhale. exhale. keeping a few metres back, i heard square-toed enclosed feet walked, almost stomped, atop chunky black heels. i tried to decipher confidence from determination from insecurites masked by confidence and determination. she was very small, but very forceful in her movements. as if going somewhere. by a certain time. on the dot.

despite her fiery, get-out-of-my-way, i'm-going-to-push-in-front-of-you-and-pretend-i-don't-see-you exterior, she was not fully certain that she wanted to push in front and pretend she didn't see. the way she placed her hand upon the bag that sat upon her hip...carefully, arm slightly tensed, unmoving. like she was guarding secrets and half-truths bequeathed to astroboy alone.

i looked up at the sky above me. she looked at the ground in front of her.
i breathed deeply air scented with the winding down of the end of a long day. she stabbed her lungs every time she inhaled.
she was probably a few years older than me, but she seemed young.

i walk lazily, letting my red and white spotted thongs wear away by scraping the gravel. not shuffling, but not lifting my feet.

she disappeared around a bend and out of my sight, and she became a past tense. a 'she was'. a 'she had'. she exists like an extra in my movie. appears briefly in a few frames but travels outside of the range of my camera. to be edited out at a later date.
the whole world's a stage?

smile like you mean it

2005-06-14T11:06:00.000+09:30

some things various boys have told me this week:

*i am outlandish and self-opinionated.

*i look like a juice bar chick.

*i am gorgeous on the inside and well as on the outside, and god loves me heaps.

*the funkiness of my glasses makes me appear less intelligent than i am.

how can four letters mean so much?

2005-06-14T01:50:00.000+09:30

whenever i'm impressed with a boy or i start thinking i might have feelings for a boy, i do the 'loves' game. in the hope that it might affirm my feelings in some pathetic, school girl way.

alix baumgartner

LOVES

john smith

1 1 0 1 1

2 1 1 2

3 2 3

5 5%

it's not because i don't trust in god to lead me and to provide me someone to love, if it is his will, in his time. partly it's because i can't trust my 'feelings' as my head and my heart are pretty screwed up...so i might as well try my luck with the prophecy of alphabet.

and partly it's because i am (and probably always will be) a kid at heart, doodling love hearts on the front of my school diary.

hang the baskets on the wall

2005-06-13T21:58:00.000+09:30

i am quite content to do nothing. more than content--i thoroughly enjoy it. i love, especially, having the entire house to myself. turning my music up nice and loud. dancing around my room in my pyjamas. stealing chocolate from the cupboard (or at least sneaking spoonfuls of nutella from the jar). it is not so much enjoyment derived from watching dvds or surfing the net, but enjoyment derived from the fact that i can, if i choose to, watch amelie or check out homestarrunner. it's that blissful feeling that comes from knowing that i don't have to stress about anything.

having time just to being alone is a big part of me being happy. as much as i love to go to a cafe after church with everyone or do coffee with one of my lovely girlfriends or a gentlemanly boy...i need that time alone. it's only the last few months, i guess, that i've reconciled myself to that.

i think the capacity to be alone with oneself is telling of how one feels about themselves. a couple of years ago i resented catching the bus home from school by myself. but now i relish walking to the station and just spending time with god. it's nice to get away from everyone; it's nice to look up at the expanse of sky and feel totally alone, or rather, totally alone with god and--er--sky. i don't feel pathetic anymore on the occasional saturday night spent curled up in a doona at home, shuffling around the house like a fluffy caterpillar. (and yes, i think caterpillar because john marsden uses it as a simile in the tomorrow when the war began series--i can't claim it. actually, i'm shocking when it comes to similes. i've got nothing as far as similebrain goes.) but i think now i can deal with the reality of 'me.' that sounds very silly. but: there's not really anywhere to hide when you're all alone. when other people are around you can defer self-contemplation and, indeed, any expression of your unadulterated self. it's when i'm alone that i have to face my sinfulness, and, conversely, the gifts that god has given me. it's only then that i can truly give it all over to god. it's only then that i can fully say, with my whole being, both 'thanks for making me your perfect creation, heavenly father' and 'i'm so sorry that i screw up so much'. most significantly: it's when alone that the immensity of the cross bears down on me most forcefully.

there's perhaps more to it than that, for me. i like being alone because, as i said, i can for example dance around in my pyjamas. makeup-free. hair naturally oiled. sleepy eyed. enormous pj pants that sit halfway down my butt, announcing 'i'm three sizes too big for you!' as they slide. dancing ridiculously, moves that scarily resemble the routines of 80s film-clips. this is a picture of me at my worst. at least according to society. but what freedom to be ugly in society's eyes! to be a true alien of society! to be a total stranger to the image the magazine pages and tv dramas promote in glossy whispers to teenage girls like me!

i'm not confident enough to be this messy-hair, imperfect-complexion alien in public. for now, i revel in the freedom afforded by escaping society's gaze. aloneness means not having to worry about whether i look pretty or intelligent or 'cool.' aloneness means not having to shape myself according to what other people want to see.

aloneness allows me to be myself.

(and no, 'aloneness' isn't a word.)

i know you blanket your mind so much that I am blind

2005-06-10T14:34:00.000+09:30

HISTORY IN AUSTRALIA:
THE NEED FOR A NATIONAL NARRATIVE
By Alix Baumgartner

In 2002, I entered Year 11 at high school, and a new history syllabus for Year 10, with a compulsory Australian History component, was introduced. The half-teasing, rueful grin I gave my friends in the grade below betrayed my unintentional aversion to any kind of Australian history—how I pitied those whose fate was swallowing the details of a national story I so avoided! Many of my fellow university students, normally passionate about historical pursuit in all its variety, flock to lectures on American, European and Asian history in an effort to distance themselves from the vaguely known and little understood discourse of invasion and land rights, immigration and multiculturalism, stolen generations and convict supremacy. The resultant deficiency of general knowledge about the Australian past translates to a national narrative insufficient to sustain a society of myriad experiences.

This insufficiency manifests itself in a superficial patriotism. The Australian brand of patriotism is preoccupied with cricket, beer, blow-up kangaroos, and Ian Thorpe. The Australian Election Study of 1996 revealed that while a high proportion of people were prepared to say that they were ‘very proud’ of Australian sport, there was great contention—particularly among the better educated—about the role of history and the matter of pride in Australia’s past.[1]

According to Bob Carr, “patriotism arises from a profound knowledge of your country’s history and geography. And Australian patriotism is our reflection, our response to the interaction of this motley people and a unique land.”[2] Patriotism that constitutes more than a taste for meat pies is dependent on a “profound knowledge” of history that the typical Australian just doesn’t possess, and in fact deliberately, if perhaps subconsciously, shies away from. Although the history wars consume copious amounts of newspaper ink as commentators brandish their pens over whose version of what past Australia should be remembering, the stereotype of Australian history for students is that it is repetitive and uninteresting. Christine Halse’s research into the state of history in New South Wales secondary schools betrays this sentiment. Said one student, “I would rather watch paint dry” than study Australia’s past.[3] This is nothing new. In a 1975 survey, one Victorian student said that their class had “wasted too much time learning Australian history, about which there is very little of interest to learn. It is time we faced this fact instead of trying to pretend that Australia has had a very interesting history.”[4]

In the 1990s, research revealing low levels of ‘historical literacy’ culminated in a massive government effort to increase civic and historical understanding. The realization that only 18 per cent of young Australians knew who Edmund Barton was led to the national ad campaign that asked: “What country would forget the name of its first Prime Minister?” Such results, wrote Anna Clark in the Melbourne Education Age in February 2004, are worrying because history “gives context—it enables students to think about where they come from, and the ideas and institutions (good and bad) that have made Australia what it is.”[5]

The American John Ross lamented the suppression of his country’s history in ‘Against Amnesia’:
In my own country
amnesia is the norm,
the schools teach us
to unremember from birth,
the slave taking, the risings up,
the songs of resistance,
the first May first,
our martyrs from Haymarket
to Attica to the redwoods of California
ripped whole from our hearts,
erased from official memory…[6]
The problem in Australia is not official censorship, evidenced by the enormous body of revisionist Australian history developed after the 1960s. Instead, Australians are themselves complicit: we effectively ‘rip whole from our hearts’ our cultural legacy by collective ignorance. We suffer from self-inflicted social amnesia. A person suffering from amnesia is thrust into an unknown, uncertain world, and consequently becomes acutely aware of the extent to which their identity is tied up in their past. Loss of memory constitutes loss of self, loss of identity. The parameters of our knowledge of the world are historical. History, as the famous dictum reads, is society’s memory. It is the only steady foundation for societal growth.

So, is the answer a Bob Carr-style history syllabus? The compulsory New South Wales syllabus has, after heavy criticism and disappointing student results, just been rewritten. What is needed, suggests Michael Spur, professional development coordinator for the History Teachers Association of Victoria, is a “real narrative” so that students can find the same sort of drama more obvious in the German or American contexts.[7]

Indeed.

Keith Windschuttle has attempted to provide such a narrative. Just as Alfred Deakin believed that nothing less than the “national character and manhood”[8] were at stake in enforcing his White Australia policy, Windschuttle, more than 100 years on, believes that this “national character” is at stake—in the writing of history. His revisionist The White Australia Policy, published in December 2004, is the latest installment of a larger political undertaking: the project of redeeming Australia’s national honour.[9] Arguably a professional confrontationalist, Windschuttle continues in the combative and polemical strain of The Fabrication of Aboriginal History.[10] “Australia is not, and never has been, the racist country its academic historians have condemned,” he declares.[11] In Windschuttle’s view, history should serve the nation. Thus he writes as a patriot, determined to rescue Australia’s reputation from those who, in his view, seek to impugn it. The academic historians he flays are a diverse group who, in actuality, disagree with each other as much as with Windschuttle, but “political combat requires the fantasy of a powerful and unified enemy.”[12]

As Windschuttle told the Sydney Morning Herald, “My broad agenda is to criticise my own generation, people who were educated in the sixties and took on board a whole range of ideas which I think are socially damaging, of which one is…hard multiculturalism, and the idea that Australia is a shockingly racist country comparable to South African apartheid.”[13] Politically driven history, which charts such a “broad agenda” and simplistically casts historical subjects as heroes or villains, can pose a barrier to understanding an ambiguous and complex past. Indeed, in arguing that Australian nationalism was not race-based, Windschuttle not only engages in perversity, but erects false dichotomies. Defining Deakin, for example, as merely a “cultural relativist” is tenuous at best: Deakin was overtly racist, recognising that the empire comprised ruling and ruled classes and insisting that, as white men, Australians belonged to the former. If nothing else, as Marilyn Lake notes, such an argument is not a fruitful way to understand “the range of race thinking and subjective identification that characterised the federation period.”[14]

Windschuttle’s ‘narrative’ of the Australian past is too simplistic. He is right, though, to observe that the central unanswered question of Australia’s national story is a racial one. Today, the noble stamp of egalitarianism is a primary source of pride for real-life Ramsey Streets with their token Asians, Arabs and Africans. Yet, Australia’s history has never been reconciled to Australia’s present. While university students keep a hand on their purses when exiting Redfern Station, John Howard’s refusal to articulate official reconciliation reflects the fact that modern-day Australians do not accept ownership of their history. The dispute over the term ‘invasion’ has echoed all over Australia, each state experiencing its own struggle over the language of Australian history syllabuses.[15] It proves not only that the teaching of Australian history is a contentious business, but that Australia exhibits significant historical problems which remain unresolved. There are enormous deficits in Aboriginal-White Australia relations, which poke as many holes in our national identity as there are stars in our southern sky.

Windschuttle is also right to assert the need for a national narrative. Yet this narrative need not be simply a black armband interpretation, or, conversely, a Three Cheers celebration of white settler achievement. In the words of Bob Carr,
Those two stories of our history for…Australians exist side by side. One can take pride in the achievement of these white intruders while at the same time acknowledge [sic] the tragedy of Aboriginal dispossession. One story doesn’t exclude the other. History is a complex contradictory process and it requires rigour to disentangle the different threads that comprise the tapestry, and it’s true of the story of our history. Those stories, those experiences…are valid for the people who lived them and both are components in our national character.[16]

Even though we may have an unexhilarating national anthem (or an inspiring disco version, as evidenced at the 2005 New Year's Eve Sydney fireworks display!), or a flag design we can't all agree on, there is a need for a more complex—and accurate—national narrative. The superficiality of Australian patriotism is evidence of flaws in our national identity. We are amnesiacs, suffering because of a lack of comprehension of our past. Our present condition must be remedied.

[1] Katherine Betts, ‘Patriotism, Immigration and the 1996 Election’, People and Places, vol. 4, no. 4 (1996), 29.
[2] Bob Carr, Heritage Week (National Trust New South Wales) Speech, 22 April 1997, at
http://www.isis.aust.com/afnt/carr.htm, viewed 1/4/2005.
[3] Anna Clark, ‘The Great History Debate’, Melbourne Education Age, 9 February 2004, at
http://www.hyperhistory.org/index.php?option=displaypage&Itemid=673&op=page, viewed 6/4/2005.
[4] Anna Clark, ‘The Great History Debate’.
[5] Anna Clark, ‘The Great History Debate’.
[6] John Ross, reprinted in Michael Parenti, History as Mystery, City Lights, San Francisco, 1999, p. 1.
[7] Quoted in Anna Clarke, ‘The Great History Debate.’
[8] Quoted in John Wilken, ‘Racism in Australian history: Two episodes’, Compass, vol 37 no 3 (2003), 12.
[9] Keith Windschuttle, The White Australia Policy (Sydney: Macleay Press, 2004).
[10] Keith Windschuttle, The Fabrication of Aboriginal History: Volume 1; Van Diemen's Land, 1803-1847 (Sydney: Macleay Press, 2002).
[11] Keith Windschuttle, The White Australia Policy, p. 10.
[12] Marilyn Lake, ‘The White Australia Policy,’ Sydney Morning Herald, 23 December 2005, at http://smh.com.au/news/Books/The-White-AustraliaPolicy/2004/12/22/1103391831142.html, viewed 10/4/2005.
[13] Quoted in Deborah Snow, ‘White Australia now has a history shaded grey’, Sydney Morning Herald, 4 December 2004, at http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/White-Australia-now-has-a-history-shaded-grey/2004/12/03/ 1101923341702.html, viewed 29/5/2005.
[14] Marilyn Lake, ‘The White Australia Policy’.
[15] Detailed in Stuart Macintyre & Anna Clark, The History Wars (Carlton: Melbourne University Press, 2003), pp. 171-190.
[16] Bob Carr, Heritage Week (National Trust New South Wales) Speech, 22 April 1997.

don't figure me out

2005-06-10T14:09:00.000+09:30

only one assignment and three exams until this semester is completed!

SEMESTER ONE MARK TALLY
media: D, HD, D
history: HD, HD, HD
english: HD, HD
other stupid english: D, HD, HD
(sorry, but i don't have anywhere else to gloat.)

it's a mad feeling showing my mum my hd in my 40% history essay, knowing that while writing it she was telling me i was going to fail uni because i haven't been doing enough work.

i love uni. i didn't realise this until last week. but i've been hanging out with some fantastic people, and my quest to become a normal person (and not an insane stress head who locks herself in her room for whole weekends) is going far better than i expected it would. the christian stuff on campus is so awesome; yesterday there was an excellent talk at eu about the bodily resurrection of christ which i found incredibly rewarding. the pumpkin toasted things and the tandoori chicken wraps at manning. playing with bouncy balls in my english tutorial. dancing with spally after studentlife. happy hour with bel, jeremy, jacob and phil on wednesday. death tuna monday. monday dinners with claire (though, unfortunately, we weren't heaps consistent with them). borrowing my first library book from fischer...not to read, but as a prop for a group presentation. laughing hysterically at the sign in the library that cautions students to refrain from putting their library cards into their mouths. laughing at jacob laughing at me. surrounding myself with people who really build me up, or at least indulge my self esteem by laughing at my stupid jokes or the way i get all excited when telling stories about blackstump. having insane talks with non-christians about christianity during media lectures, or, alternatively, at midnight on msn. not going to university english. learning the shortest route to bosch from woolley (hey, it only took us six weeks). finding out this girl in my history tute was a christian. having the same people crop up in basically all my lectures and tutes: god really does connect people. meeting someone who knows who the bees are. having a four-day week.

sure, there's a bit of dodginess that filters through all the 'i'm a cool uni student' stuff. but the balance sheet of semester one is an overly positive one (unlike the balance sheet of australian history, john howard). wow, was alix just political? break it...down.

sounds gracing my eardrums: lior, superficial

fly me to the moon

2005-06-08T19:38:00.000+09:30

have you ever liked someone but not known why, exactly, you like them? been attracted to someone even though they're not particularly your type? someone very different to you? someone...who just seems an illogical choice?

it's a confusing and surprisingly exciting feeling.

i can see clearly now

2005-06-01T21:19:00.000+09:30

i've had such a fantastic mondaytuesdaywednesday. just chillin in da club pimping wit mah money--well actually my parties are more like chillin in the sun with tea and milk and honey. (first person to pick song and artist for that random quote wins! wins what? just wins!!) i'm playing the uni student role soooo well, bar the whole drinking while proclaiming strident political opinions thing. breezy. hanging with lovely people. it's been fantastic.

i was praying on my way home tonight, and just swept up in how brilliant god is and how intense his love for us is. wow!

and today was extra cool coz i met new people at eu...and admittedly scared some of them i think because i was in a crazyhappylaughinginsanemood. and then paul and i sang and stuff for a while and it was cool. what is cooler that we are mad tight friends eh! wooot! *you're HOT paul!* LOL!!!

i heart god sooo much! *grins*

it's a good time to blast off to space

2005-05-30T09:26:00.000+09:30

steve said this really cool thing on saturday night. something along these lines:
don't be afraid to fall in love. god did, and he got hurt, and he is hurt everyday, but he still loves and never stops loving us.

love freaks me out. i am simultaneously enticed and repelled by it, as a notion and in practicality. i desperately want to feel it, but when i do--or i think i do--i have the biggest desire to crawl under my finding nemo quilt and stay there til the feelings fade. i rarely like a boy. on the one hand, i have high standards and i don't want to settle for anything less than a deep and total love. but on the other hand, my lack of self-esteem makes me think that those few who do meet my standards are far too good for me.

i know that i'm pretty smart, and that i am sufficiently human-looking to get by, and that god has blessed me with talents and passions. moreover, i am in the process of knowing more fully that being a child of god is my complete identity. that regardless of said smarts and talents and physical appearance, i have been clothed in righteousness by jesus' blood. that i am god's workmanship, and though everyday i flee from him into the ever-widening arms of sin, he has rescued and redeemed and sanctified me.

it's one thing to seek after a godly guy. but what do you do when you find one...and find yourself filled with an all-consuming sense of inadequacy?

are you in?

2005-05-27T14:51:00.000+09:30

abstract:
finished my last *major* essay last monday. skipped half of my uni hours this week. spent way too much time on the internet (why?). wrote a bible study on genesis 12-50. thought a lot, but didn't get anywhere.

it's been one of those funny weeks that float away without me realising, like the clouds rolling away from above sydney uni halfway through the day when you're wearing jeans and a blazer. and left boiling in the heat of the gravel path home from the station. actually, it's not much like that at all. friday night i didn't have a melt-down in kerensa's car, breaking from the tradition of the last few weeks. maybe because she didn't drive me home. hehe. normally on a typical friday night i'm experiencing tiredness of the cranky variety, and fear of the essay syndrom: not a good mix. but last friday, though certainly tired, i wasn't gripped by the usual fever that comes with the insidious creeping of an essay due date towards me. which is good, but also bad because though i stayed home on saturday night ostensibly to start the essay (and, let's face it, coz i'm a serious nerd), i had no motivation. because fear of failing is generally my only incentive to spend hours in front of my laptop, to the sound of custom kings. who are great, and yet another band to move to melbourne for. so, without the fear i was pretty much useless. pottered around. did the msn thing even though i don't even like msn. posted on the col forum coz it's a fabulous procrastination tool and it makes me feel even more like a die-hard groupie.

consequently i spent sunday moulding myself into the shape of a chair. or maybe sitting on my chair for way too long essaying it up (baby). still wasn't stressed, even though The Makings Of The Worst Essay I've Ever Written smirked at me through the computer screen. meh, i figured. it's the worst film in the world; it deserves to have my worst ever essay written on it. too bad it's worth 35%. went to church at 6 coz i was on singing roster, which was fun. i love singing. i would be stoked if i could just sing always. i was in a really strange mood at rehearsal before church because...well, partly because by this stage my progress on the essay was so insignificant that The Makings Of The Worst Essay I've Ever Written had now started laughing at me, cackling away in my room while i was singing a suburb away at church. but since i still was seriously un-stressed about said essay, my weird mood was mostly due to the fact that even though i'd only left my room for food and potty breaks all day, i'd been yelled out (what seemed) continuously. somehow i manage to get in trouble even when i've locked myself in my room. if it wasn't so damn annoying, you could even say that's a pretty amazing talent.

yeah so anyway. i rant and rant and forget completely what i was talking about ten lines above. singing roster was cool coz i was just being really stupid and randomly scatting and improv-ing and dancing and being a total loser. i was so loserish i would fit in on australian idol, even. had the hand actions and the paulini tapping the mic thing going, and i was even throwing *deep* facial expressions at lara so she kept stuffing up coz she was laughing at me. wooot.

i feel sorry for the band kids who were subjected to viewing my stupidity. i don't feel sorry for lara though, coz she knows what i'm really like.

cut uni on monday--three hours of my twelve down. i had to or the essay wouldn't have gotten done by 6pm. did a shoddy job of it but i'm on a hd av in that subject anyway, so i guess i can afford a dodgy mark. then i went to dinner with spal and paul and it was lovely. had a massive d&m vibe which was kinda cool--what i needed anyway. then spal and i d&med it up some more. i love my girlfriends. if only i knew a boy who understood me half as well as kids like spally and bel?
*drowns in self-pity, and then forces way up to the surface with the realisation that it's a stupid cliche*

tuesday i went to uni!! all my classes!! phil would be so proud. hi phil! :P

wednesday was awesome wednesday, awesome because even though i have to get up ridiculously early to get to uni at 9am (and yes, i'm an arts student) and the first half of my tute was boring as, sam and kat rocked up an hour late...with bouncy balls and a yoyo! oh the joy. you must understand that my english tute, though full of really cool kids, is terrible. so bouncy balls and a yoyo are infused with an entertainment value usually reserved for primary kids clutching such toys. history was good, as usual. i've never missed a history lecture. if i learnt as much as i do in history in all my other subjects i probably wouldn't miss them either. then it was HAPPY HOUR. meaning jacob and sebastian (ok, his real name is jeremy, but he totally looks like a seb) and i get to spend an hour making bel cry because we're so hilariously funny. honestly, wednesday lunches are absolute gold. we laugh literally for the entire hour. it's so brilliant. and when phil comes along it's even better. jacob and seb and phil are so much greater than most boys. :)

and wednesday was even awesomer than usual because we extended happy hour for an extra hour, so actually it was happy two hours. so that means another hour of uni missed, since i was supposed to be in a tute. i had never intending to go to my uni eng seminar that arvo coz it was just kids doing boring speeches. so in total three hours missed on wednesday.

that would equal six hours of uni missed. check out mah mathematic brilliance! wickety mah wickety. word.

ok the last three points of my abstract don't really need any explanation. and i've gotta go to work.

herein ends the essay.

sounds gracing my eardrums: the octopus lovesong, the amazing joel hockey movement

the horror looks you right between the eyes...the terror on the screen

2005-05-22T12:11:00.000+09:30

i am writing (or not writing, as the case may be) an essay on the worst film ever made in the history of the world.

I HATE UNCIVILISED.

say a little prayer for me

2005-05-12T18:07:00.000+09:30

Dear Lord,
Fill me with a desire to become more fully the woman of God that a man of God seeks out. Work in me to achieve gentleness and quietness of spirit. Help me to stand firm against temptation, and be clear-sighted in determining the kind of man I am looking for. Don't let me compromise! Don't let me be persuaded by looks or materialistic ideals. Dont let me be blinded by my preconcieved ideas about a potential partner. Don't let me settle for anyone but a man of God, who desires to know and love Jesus more and more, and who is determined to discover what pleases You Lord, and to live it out. Let me be attracted to those men who live up to the expectations of a godly husband as described in the Bible. Help me to be content. To appreciate the joys of singledom. To know that You have my best interests at heart...whether those interests include a relationship or not. Thank you for Jesus. Thank You that He perfects my imperfect prayers so that I can come before You in prayer. Thank You that the Holy Spirit is inside my corrupt little self.
Amen.

a tune for the poparazzi

2005-05-09T09:41:00.000+09:30

woot woot woot.

switchfoot's the beautiful letdown is one of those cds i love and then forget about, then love and forget about again. at the moment i'm loving it, and not the macdonalds kind. it's really great. by far the best thing about it is (are?) the lyrics. the lead singer's voice is pretty unexciting, it's good enough but there's nothing special about it. he can sing. but it doesn't grab you or anything. on songs like meant to live the guitars are really fab, and on this is your life, the decks are cool. but in all, it's definitely the lyrics that get me. how fab to have a christian band--a real christian band, who are unashamedly christian and let their passion for god spill over into and indeed inform their music wholeheartedly--become so successful. permeating the minds of the masses, hooked on the riff in meant to live or the honesty of dare you to move; subconsciously infiltrating the minds behind mainstream culture with the word of life.

i should be studying.

all i've got here is books and music / used to have exercise but i outgrew it

2005-05-06T07:49:00.000+09:30

alix wins!

i got another two assessments back yesterday and they were both hds and both the highest mark in each of my classes!

i need to take the opportunity to gloat now as i foresee my hd average suffering some pretty severe set-backs in the second half of semester...

in the meantime, yay for me! yay mostly though to god giving me a brain. i pray he'll be able to use my brain for more important things in the future--that is, not just essays on Lithuanian American immigrants or Orwell's Ninteen Eighty-Four or feminist lit or news-stories. and can i take this opportunity to say that writing news-stories is so incredibly, ridiculously boring.

i went to training this morning, taking my tally for this week up to two sessions!! which is two sessions more than every week since january. i always feel better about myself and more awake when i get up and train. it's not particularly fun, but then again it's not particularly heinous either. and yes i got the word henious from ten things i hate about you, which is a fantabulous movie that i watched the other night.
'tempestuous?' 'henious bitch is the term used most often.'
'have you seen the unwashed miscrients that go to that school?'
'but she's a mutant, what if she never dates?'
'...are there sheep?'
'you are so not who i thought you were.'
etc.
i can totally quote that movie as it goes. gold.
i'm not even sure if that's how you spell 'heinous', but it'll do. nor is that the correct usage of the word, probably. but that'll do pig, that'll do. meh.

what's been happening? sleep. eat. uni. stay on the laptop far longer than i should each night. work at becoming an even bigger nerd than i already am. i am such a loser. just ask lara, she gets to witness it. particularly when i'm tired...i say the stupidest things. man.

blonde incident to report: on sunday, i go to eirian (in all seriousness) 'so this oz tag game we're playing...is there a ball involved?' IS THERE A BALL? break it down i say. wickey wickety wack. or the regular kind. it was a fantastically liberating moment of pure stupidity.
i'm smart. really i am.

grease lightning

2005-05-03T17:59:00.000+09:30

SWIMMING UPSTREAM
By Alix Baumgartner

Hayley Barnes didn’t have to pack a medal into her bag before she left Brisbane last week, at the close of the National Age Swimming Championships.

She didn’t win one.

Hayley placed equal 17th of 20 competitors in her pet event, the grueling 200 metre Butterfly.

Most 16-year-olds wouldn’t survive 200 metres of Butterfly, but Hayley’s training regime at Roselands Aquatics Centre—18 hours in the pool and four cross-training sessions every week—makes this distance seem short.

Hayley says that she loves swimming, but that her performance at the National Championships was disappointing. She clocked a time three seconds slower than her best. “It’s the best feeling in the world when you swim well. But then again it’s the worst feeling when you swim badly,” she says.

Her coach, Col Robson, says Hayley is the most consistent trainer among the Roselands squad. “Hayley very seldom gives a poor performance at training,” he says. Mr Robson has accompanied Hayley to each of her three National Championships, and says “it is very frustrating when she doesn’t achieve her goals because she deserves to.”

Hayley’s training partner and best friend, Lauren Phee, also competed in Brisbane. Lauren qualified for the championships for the first time this year, and also performed below expectations. “I wish I’d swum a personal best time, but I’m looking forward to swimming better next year,” she says.

Hayley and Lauren agree that it was hard to see their fellow team-members swim so well at the week-long championships. 14-year-old Ciaran Morgan placed fifth in the 100m and 200m freestyle in personal best times. 13-year-old Nicole Ellis slashed her personal best time and improved from 49th ranking to 12th overall.

“I was happy for Ciaran and Nicole, but it is tough to watch,” said Hayley. “I know that I train as hard and sacrifice as much as they do.” But Hayley says it isn’t productive to lament disappointing performances. In fact, “When I swim slower than I hoped I would, I have more motivation at training,” she says.

It is a creditable achievement to even qualify for the National Championships. The qualifying standards improve each year as swimming becomes ever more popular, especially in New South Wales and Queensland.

Andrew Flaherty, Assistant Executive Director of the NSW Swimming Association, said that the number of registered amateur swimmers across the state has increased by approximately 1000 to nearly 40, 000 this competitive season.

As testament to the strength of Australian swimming in the younger ages, the winner of Hayley’s event, Queenslander Stephanie Rice, came second at the Open National Championships in January. But Hayley says she doesn’t compare herself to competitors like Stephanie, who can swim up to 15 seconds faster than her in the 200m Butterfly.

After all, the value of the three medals is created by the fact that 20 or more swimmers are competing for them. “Winning a medal and swimming five seconds over your best time is nothing to be proud of. If you can’t say you’ve improved yourself, it doesn’t mean much,” Hayley says.

Hayley intends to keep swimming indefinitely. “I know I can go faster. As long as I have something to strive for, I’ll keep swimming. I’d love to make a final at Nationals.”

the earth rise

2005-04-30T20:20:00.000+09:30

Her soul was not fashioned from my head to direct,
Nor feet to be spurned, but from within my side
-my ribs she was taken
An equal from beneath my arm for me to protect,
And nearest my heart to be loved for
-not forsaken.

by christian, who hits the keys for crying out loud. i think it's beautiful.

smelly cat

2005-04-30T19:55:00.000+09:30

l...is for the way you look (you're looking) at me, and
ooooo...is for the only one that i see see see
V!! is for the very (ba-dum!) extra ord-in-ar-y
e...is even more...than anyone that you adore can
looovee...

that song is in my head. and i am at home alone.
song in head + home alone = much of the improvising variety at the top of my lungs.

hehe speaking of which, i was *practicing* (read: listening through twice) this song i'm supposed to sing at church tomorrow in la's bedroom, since she has a cassette player, and me being the oh-so-technologically-savvy chick i am i don't. it's pretty enough. the song, not lara's cassette player. though it is bright pink. i digress. i was *practicing* in lara's room, doing these mad fun trills and oohs and ahhs hella loud...when i realised that all the windows at the front of the house were open and anyone within a twelve kilometre radius could hear my foghorn-like improving. woops. and normally it's the house across the road that infuriates the inhabitants of kingsgrove with their trumpet and piano and whatever else. maybe they'll all think that noisy house has acquired a vocal gymnast aswell? hmm.

there is one slice of chocolate cheesecake in the fridge. and i am at home alone.
chocolate cheesecake + home alone = much of the demolishing variety.
must get to it.

wow this is a pointless post. i'm reaching new heights of creative mediocrity.

sounds gracing my eardrums: beloved, failure on my lips (nish would be so proud)

never enough

2005-04-28T21:30:00.000+09:30

i have several messages now.

claire:
honey. we're drifting. it sucks. you are sad and i'm a bit sad (but with not as much reason). if you want i am here to talk. you should talk i think. i mean, it's up to you. and if not with me then that's fine. but i want to be there for you and i want us to be close like before. much love kid. i'll see you on monday...counting the days. :)

bel:
how can someone get me and all my crap? we have the coolest friendship. you are so amazing. you lift me up and you keep me accountable and you listen when i'm ranting (which is often). thanks for being there for me unquestioning this last little while. i've needed you, and i fear i haven't been a great friend to you in all the self-centredness of that. sorry. will make it up to you. i appreciate you muchly!

spally:
my angel in disguise. you may not have the bright glowing thing going on but you're certainly the awesomest. i miss you something crazy, yet i see you more than i ever have ever. it's weird. but i look forward to mondays and uni because of our little lunches. they are so fab. ps. i have big plans for you as one half of the phattest power christian couple. it will be excitement! :P

phil:
dude i've been kinda...something towards you. i've been struggling a bit and probably taking it out on you. i'm sorry. i want to sit down and have a good chat like we did through the summer sometimes. let's make sure that happens ok?

esther:
you rock kid. seriously. pray hard girl. give it to god...who better is there? :) much much much of the love variety to you.

lauren:
honey, i love seeing you, even if it's only occasionally these days. i guess it just means when we get to see each other we are happy and excited and fun and it means all the more. i can't wait to see you around campus and at manning. yiew! work hard kid. you are brilliant. fully. you build me up, you encourage me, you care. i couldn't ask for more.

daniel:
sorry about everything. hehe. i'm totally looking forward to being friends and working together in ministry! you are a top guy. keep jesus as number one. keep being honest with me.

wilmo:
dude! you know what i think about you. wow. that is all. go you. go god working in you. keep encouraging and loving and being you. you may have to fend all the girls off if you keep up this behaviour though! :P

nish:
thanks for caring. thanks for making me feel like you're always there for me. and get your butt back at church already!!!

eirian:
it's tough. work at it like you would a science prac (or whatever crazy things you do in those parts of campus, lol). you are god's workmanship, his masterpiece. live it. see yourself as a child loved by god. then you'll be sweet. you are beautiful. sick brah.

ash:
i got your email. i pretty much agree with your assessment of me. i hope i haven't been too much of a burden to you this year--really. i'm sorry i've been so down. i'm working on it. thank you for being you. amazing, intelligent, kind. in love with jesus. you're quality, kid.

laaaaaaaara:
i love you. you said to write you a long message, but that sums it up pretty nicely i think.

stuff i've been wanting to say, and which i'm now in a sufficiently soppy mood to say. if i haven't mentioned you it's because i suck, not you. i suck eggs, even! feel free to flood me with hate mail if you must.

so real

2005-04-28T18:22:00.000+09:30

today i got to uni about half an hour before eu was to start, so i went down to the park and sat in the dappled sunlight. many a lunchtime at high school amelia and i discussed the wonders of dappled sunlight as opposed to straight sun or straight shade. the decision we came to time and time again--that dappled sunlight was the brilliantest--was certainly true. i was sitting in this dappled sunlight, reading arundhati roy's the god of small things...i know roy doesn't mean the god i love, but as i was sitting there i meditated a bit on that title. certainly he is the god of small things--of each beautiful petal of a flower, of high distinctions or even just passes, of trains arriving at the station just as you do, of voices swelling up in church, of wiping away every individual tear, of moments like those in that park before eu. the sky was the clearest blue--you know the effect you get when you are in 'paint' and you select a section of your crappy little scribble to fill with colour? say you picked the light blue colour. that's the kind of sky god let me look up at in the park today. the awkward blocks of grey protruding from beyond the park--the city buildings--looked absurd, such was that awesome vast blue mass. like god had grabbed a god-sized brush and painted it in one smooth, god-like stroke. if i looked directly up (which obviously, i did, otherwise i wouldn't be able to write this sentence) the leafy tree, which sprouted up like one of those fab afros on brooding arty uni boys, was punctured by a dot of brilliant light. the sun. so bright my oversize sunglasses couldn't compete. but not nearly as bright at the light jesus embodies. the tree was punctured by the sunlight, offering a tiny glimpse at the penetration of god's light in this world of darkness. sitting there, i felt utterly calm. i felt silent. i felt content. i wasn't bored or anxious or stressed. i didn't have to make sure i looked sufficiently pretty and confident to fool those around me that i wasn't 'making sure' and that it was effortless and natural to be pretty and confident. the two boys kicking a soccer ball around, the couple chatting, the young guy reading and highlighting ferociously: all insignificant to me. just--that feeling of being alone, and happily so. at least at that moment i was content with being alone and being with god and knowing jesus. which should be enough at every instance, of course. 'i have learned the secret of contentment,' wrote paul. that is a secret i know and just need to cling to and grasp at with the fervour of all those action heroes dangling off a precipice in the climatic scene at the end of those dirge-like films.

as i was settling in, i realised there was weird sticky stuff on the ground where i was sitting. and as i got up to brush myself off the 'no vsu' rally march bore itself down past the library and next to the park. a seething, yelling, colourful mass of people, sweaty with protestation and passion, brows furrowed with the effort of prepared slogans and rallying calls led by the most enthusiastic of their kind, who chanted into their megaphones with pride. i agree vsu should be stopped; i understand it's implications for university life. but in truth, the juxtaposition of the tranquility of that park and the spectacle those marchers as they wound their way down was more than a little comical. everything took on humorous undertones: a red-hot university protester, running across the park to catch up to the march, with his curly mop of hair flopping rythmically up and down against his back, the fact that the two guys playing soccer seemed to get worse with practice. etc etc. it was a nice, private, inward-looking feeling; like i was privy to a joke made by and for myself. or maybe that god revealed the funniness, the quirkiness, of those little gestures of the few people scattered across the park. 'oh that was so real' wails jeff in his lovely tortured tenor on windows media player, right this second. indeed it was. so real, and so god's, and so me being privileged and blessed.

if i only had a brain

2005-04-25T08:45:00.000+09:30

i love how
i write in this thing
when i have a massive essay due tomorrow
and it's not going to get done
(well it is--i was just praying yesterday, thanking god for the fact that although i often don't think this or that essay or assignment is going to get done, it always does...albeit with the aid of the early morning hours)
but it's funny how
when i have uni work/school work/work of any sort
i want to
read trashy magazines
watch dvds
write in my blog
when i have an assessment due
but as soon as
that assessment is completed
the desire to do those things
disappears.
during the three month summer holidays
i didn't read any trashy magazines
i watched one dvd total
ok, i wrote in my blog a fair bit, but only because it was a new toy at the time.

what up wit that? (no 's' in what up; no 'h' in wit...get with the program anthony!)

sounds gracing my eardrums: custom kings, peace

i see the light but i can't feel the heat

2005-04-23T19:54:00.000+09:30

yes, i complain about boys a fair bit...they sometimes disappoint me. but god did make us to be in relationship with one another...and what's so wrong with wanting a boyfriend? i wish i could say that i enjoy being single, but i simply don't. and i'm not going to pretend that i do for the sake of sounding like an 'independent woman.'

bel understands what i mean.

i have been feeling quite emotionally fragile and just generally not very happy these last few days. i hate writing on this thing when i'm feeling sad, because i sound so ridiculously pretentious--in fact, mostly i do write my thoughts down but i just never post them. they remain as drafts. but jono inspired this one, and then he said i had to name-drop his name very subtly. this is as subtle as i get my friend. ;)

i have this nightmarish essay due on tuesday. i have spent twelve straight hours on it today, and only covered one of three required texts. and, what i have written on that one text is more than a thousand words over the word count allowed for all three. which really, really sucks. and my back hurts something severe. and i'm supposed to be at bel's watching dvds!

i feel like i should stop complaining. on one level, i certainly should be putting others first and not wallowing in self-pity. yet i got contrary advice from wilmo, the poster-child for gentlemanliness, the other night, which was lovely. he was the first of the male species to ever tell me they liked my insides, even though bruised and in pain, better than my outsides. it made me cry like a damn fool. but how wonderful! in his words, why would he want to know only the shell of an m&m when there was chocolately goodness inside? i guess i need to get stuff out occasionally.

playground love

2005-04-06T19:40:00.000+09:30

my love life is so bad
because my imagination is so good.

i hope one day
my fantasies and reality will collide.

[michael olliffe, christian, bachelor, music man, part-time daydreamer, deep, arty, cool.]

who wouldn't stand inside your love?

2005-04-03T21:49:00.000+09:30

i think this is my first blog on my new laptop, which is all silvery and pretty and light and cool. so yay. it is also my first blog since my new 'hot hair' transformed me from drab to fab. yay yay.

this easter break i have done far too little, spending more time lamenting the fact that the rest of semester--ten long weeks of assessments--is going to suck, than actually doing anything to make said semester suck a little less. unfortunately i am 110% unmotivated, with a lot of laziness thrown in. the upside is that i am so not stressed. though i dread the seemingly endless due dates all lined up and highlighted in blue (hell, it's supposed to be calming) in my kitschy little asian diary, i'm not perpetually worried like i was during what i fondly call The Longest HSC Ever (And If Not The Longest Then Definitely The Stupidest).

Last night, she said /Oh baby i feel so down...not really. last night i went to the Attic to see COL!!! COL so incredibly deserves three exclamation marks!!! it was fantabulous, as per usual. totally crowded, hot, smelly--and worth it. it's just as exciting to talk to the band members afterwards as it is to see them play. because even on their bad days they sound extremely good, and even on their bad mood days they are lovely. christian and steve are particularly friendly; very good at just walking up and being nice. simon, the drummer, is a very lovely boy. a very lovely boy whose number is now saved to my phone. :) just keeping my options open. hehe.

wishful thinking and know exit, both from victoria, also played and were tight as. this very cute girl band called randall opened the show. they were good in a 'good on them getting up there, coz they're chicks and chicks don't have a big enough presence in the band thing, despite the fact that they're not that good it was ok coz they have a bit of potential' kinda way. nah but all props to them. they were gutsy.

i set today aside to finish off my MECO news story which i have been researching off and on (ok, more off) these last two weeks. it's due tomorrow afternoon, so i figured worst-case scenario, i had a good few hours in the morning to write it frantically.

so you can imagine my surprise when i looked up at the clock after cutting my draft down to 406 words: 10.30....am. so rockin!! "yes," i thought, "now i can clean my room and do the washing!" woot woot woot, as TGS would say. woot.

tonight church was really good. we had matt olliffe come as a special guest, and his sermon...well, whenever he speaks, i leave the service inspired to be a missionary because he has a really strong global evangelistic perspective and is always ready to challenge each member of the congregation to be more active in god's big plan. it's not unforseeable that i complete my degree (at the end of 2008), do honours in history or english or something (2009), and then... i'll be 24...i could go to bible college for a year or two (or more?). by that stage i will have found a wonderful man who is my equal in everything, and we will get married and do mission overseas? even without the wonderful man it's certainly more than possible that mission could be my future. a scary and exciting prospect.

sounds gracing my eardrums: the go-gos, head over heels

love is only a feeling

2005-03-28T13:17:00.000+09:30

i have very little to say really. had a pretty good weekend, and by that i mean that the nights were good, and the days were full of note-writing. but the whole easter chocolate thing made even that more bearable. on saturday i went to bel's house with la and we watched live dvds...no the dvds weren't alive, but the music on them was recorded live. (i apologise for that terrible pun; claire and phil really are rubbing off on me.) jeff buckley, ben harper, jack johnson, john butler trio, and michael jackson filmclips to top it off--sweet dude. totally.

apparently bel's brother is now in love with me, because he thinks i'm emo. like one can 'be an emo'. which is really funny for anyone who knows me and my penchant for wearing pink and pearls. apparently my glasses and the badges on my bag gave my emo side away. hehe. i'm sooo not emo! hilarity.

on sunday night, church was fab, and millions of kids came back to bi's afterwards. we chilled, and talked, and watched stupid tv shows where dumb men hurt themselves and their possessions very badly, and embarassed themselves on sing star, and ate junk food. good times. i had a good chat with nish, about relationships and the like, which was nice. but it did prompt me to ask: why is it that so many of the boys i know see me only as a friend? what's up wit that? homie g?
;)

mood? chilled. love on the rocks with ice baby.

overgrowth of time

2005-03-22T22:49:00.000+10:30

lack of bloggage lately corresponds to disappearance of said blog and the pain and suffering thus caused. [that sentence does not make sense, but one should excuse this due to inability to practice writing in coherent sensical sentences due to temporary death of blog.]

so much has happened, yet little to tell. it's funny how my 'issues' seem so profound and impactful and important on the day they are experienced. but when days merge into weeks, all my little problems are revealed as just that, just a mere stitch in the patchwork of the quilt of life. man, i am SUCH an idiot. listen to me, "quilt of life"? what? that's not breaking it down, that's just embarrassing.

the end result is that even though my mind has been preoccupied with problems and musings virtually non-stop this last week or so, when it comes down to ranting about what has been bothering me...nothing is really that significant. conflicts at home hit me hard in an immediate sense but their effect seems to fade as my head sinks into my two soft pillows at night. money troubles (which, now, apparently, is to be a feature of my life) are similiar; somedays i worry, other days i don't even notice. it's like that. and that's the way it is. [song quote for novelty value.] as far as readings and assessments and uni work in general goes, i'm not scared. fear drives me--fear of failure, and by failure i mean coming second in the race that is marks--and since i'm not gripped by it, i'm not doing anything. i'm two weeks behind my media & comm readings already. and yes, that means i haven't done any readings at all. i did a meco assignment today in class, which it is quite possible i did badly in. perhaps a bad mark would be a good dose of disappointment to really fire me up (or freak me out, which is probably more accurate).

i've now got another actual friend, rather than just an aquaintance. his name is sam and he's undoubtably the best-looking meco boy in first-year. admittedly this is why is spoke to him in the first place. superficial any? it's ridiculous, i know. he was sitting alone, so i can pretend that i struck up conversation in pity of his loneliness. transparent any?

the downside to 'actual friends' is thus: we talk. to each other. namely throughout boring meco lectures. on the day before an assessment. probably missing vital information about said assessment. and probably annoying catherine lumby (which i highly doubt is a good idea, given the abrasive harshness of her personality).

but he's nice and loves music, and did similiar subjects to me, and shares a dislike of catherine lumby and of the prospect of pursuing print journalism as a full-time career.

my history friend, alana, is lovely. very pretty and stylish and smart and funny. she and sam are both in my english tut aswell, which is nice and makes me look popular. of course this is my sole aim and purpose in attending university. hehe.

that's enough for me tonight. tired; and predictably, haven't done my readings for tomorrow. i guess this blog just says, 'i am still alive, and now that my blog is un-disappeared, it too is alive and proverbially kicking'. woot woot woot.

tomorrow is my last day on uni this week, and i have next week off for easter break. so i'll have no excuse but to post faithfully in the coming days. and to that end i better save up my words and creativity and finger muscles.

sounds gracing my eardrums: mae, tisbury lane (everyone go to www.purevolume.com/mae and check out this most beautiful of songs)

there's no atmosphere on the moon

2005-03-11T14:20:00.000+10:30

yesterday night, after my pathetic little one hour lecture, i went to bondi junction ostensibly to see if borders, which was having a sale, had any of my uni textbooks for cheaper than the crazily jacked-up prices of the charming co-op bookshop. i ended up buying four cds. i truly am unstoppable! so now there are wonderful sounds impressing my eardrums, namely:

free the bees, the bees
i know next to nothing about this band except that they are fab and obscure; they have this excellent retro 60s sound and have funny lyrics including the title of this blog. i shall endeavour to find out more about them i suppose, i'm thinking they're either british or american? there's this one particularly great instrumental song called 'russian' that goes for about six minutes. it's muchly great, with brass and everything.)
the hustle, g-love
since i'm seeing jack johnson, donavon frankenreiter, xavier rudd and g-love next friday at centennial park--speaking of which yay yay yay--i figured i should get me some musical education of the g-love variety since he's the only one i haven't really heard. it's so great! he's funkier and rougher than jack, more eclectic in his sound, more inventive and experimental. at this point i'm liking him more than jack, so i'm doubly excited for next friday!)
moon safari, air
been meaning to buy this one for about a hundred years, and it is certainly not a disappointment. i love that song 'sexy boy'; i think maybe it's on the 10 things soundtrack? anyway, it's awesome atmospheric chill-out mellow study music, and i love it.
soundtrack to the virgin suicides, (also by) air
got this cd for a wicked 10 bucks. another cd that's been pined after for much the same reason as moon safari.

i think i'm going to give up on boys and just take up a love affair with music fulltime. i can't get enough. now if only i had more opportunities to make my own music... ;)

since yesterday was 'youth group eve' (hi lara), today is 'youth group day,' which inspires excitement each friday. it's so much fun being a kid. tonight should prove interesting (as in a bit weird) due to some craziness which has unfolded this week. but nonetheless, it's something to look forward to through work. weirdness at work too: my mates dave and bec have randomly gotten together. i sorta guessed it was happening, though i have no idea how since it virtually came out of nowhere. they better not break up or get heaps cut at each other, because teasing dave is like the only thing that gets me through friday arvos.

today was my first official day of uni, per se, and it was largely uneventful. typed out some notes for english because i was feeling motivated, then got over feeling motivated, then had a quick look for laptops at the shops, then came home. things change really fast. on monday i felt like i had all this 'boy news', as in news in the boy department, but now i don't really have anyone. which is mildly depressing, but also a lot less complicated and emotionally less stressful. so i'm feeling pretty mellow really. nothing's really fazing me at the moment.

slap that bass

2005-03-10T12:01:00.000+10:30

so let me get this straightsay now you loved me all along?what made you hesitateto tell me with words what you really feel?i can see it in your eyes you mean all of what you sayi remember so along ago see I felt the same waynow we both have separate lives and lovers (and lovers)insignificately enough we both have significate othersonly time will telltime will turn and tellwe are who we were whencould've been lovers but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were whenwho knew what we know nowcould've been more but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were whenBut thoughts they change and times they rearrange i don't know who you are anymoreloves come and go and this i know i'm not who you recall anymorebut i must confess you're so much more then i remembercan't help but entertain these thoughtsthoughts of us togetherwe are who we were whencould've been lovers but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were whenwho knew what we know nowcould've been more but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were whenmy day late friendso let me get this straightall these years and you were no where to be foundand now you want me for your ownbut you're a day late and my love she's still at homewe are who we were whencould've been lovers but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were whenwho knew what we know nowcould've been more but at least you're still my day late friendwe are whowe are who we were when

i know everybody here wants you

2005-03-09T13:48:00.000+10:30

if you can't hold yourself together
why should I hold you now?

big shout out to bel, who, in keeping with being fabulous and wonderful, put up with my ranting today and listened to stuff i just couldn't keep in my confused little head. you rock kid.

uni this week has been ok. the supreme crapness of university english (what does a full stop look like? what is the importance of punctuation? how does one construct a paragraph, or even--shock horror--an essay?!?) has dulled, somewhat, the decent-ness of my first meco (media and communications) lecture, and the brilliance of studying history again. i can feel a healthy dose of cynicism and a capacity for coherent academic and abstract thought slowly (ok, very slowly) permeating the recesses of my holiday-numbed brain. hell, i couldn't have written a sentence as pretentious as that one a week ago!!

good news is that my timetable is pretty good; bad news is that it could be better. i have fridays off, but i have to come in on thursdays for one lecture at 4pm. which is annoying because i will spend at least double the amount of time i spend at the lecture travelling there and back. but i can dig it. (can you dig it?--robert smith rocks my socks!) i mean, it's only first semester so there's a fair bit of novelty factor in the whole going to uni process thing. i'm sure that'll wear off by, oh, probably tomorrow. but nevertheless.

good news is that i've found it ridiculously easy to make friends. eu helps in that respect, but i've discovered in myself a rather welcome self-confidence and assured conversationalism with all the randoms i've been bowling up to on campus.

good news is that i got a fab new uni bag that's all purple and squishy and cool, and is now covered in badges and kitschy little objects. my kitschiness is accelerating at an exciting pace with the advent of never-ending 'mufti weeks'. love it!

i really should start going through stuff and work out what readings i need to do this week, so i can have the weekend off. not that i have anything planned--and a certain someone seems to be screwing me around with regards my social life, grr. but still. :S

oh yeah, one important announcement:
boys
are dumb.
the end.

sounds gracing my eardrums: dashboard confessional, as lovers go

i'm still waiting for you to be the one i'm waiting for

2005-03-06T20:58:00.000+10:30

things in the works; work in progress. watch this space.

boy meets girl. girl likes boy. then?
:)

feeling ok, excited to become all nerdful tomorrow at my first day at uni.

cash money...can you buy me true love?

2005-03-03T12:22:00.000+10:30

what
i
want
(in no particular order)

1.) to be happy

2.) a laptop computer

3.) a new phone, which isn't possessed by the devil and therefore doesn't specialise in the 'techno moo' ring tone when it's feeling insane

4.) enough money to see all my favourite bands when they tour; enough money to go to bluesfest

5.) either intense physical beauty, or to have physical beauty mean nothing to me

6.) many a cd

7.) fitness, and a lightly-defined six-pack (hehe)

8.) to be self-esteemed

9.) to understand that god is always in control

10.) a charitable soul

11.) chocolate

12.) the ability to play bass and to write songs

13.) a band, maybe a stage band, or a jazz trio, with whom i can indulge my penchant for scatting

14.) to be as cool as lara and as good a friend as claire

15.) all the kitschy asian clothes and shoes and accessories my little heart desires

16.) a manifestation of:

"her wedding day and she's thinking about

the way he won her affection

she was so cynical about love

‘cause she didn't want to be heart broken again

he looked her in her eye with sincerity,

said he only wanted to protect her so she

took a chance on him and she's glad she did

because he came for real

and he did, just what he said,

for that she'll love him forever

he kept his word to her,

for that she'll love him forever."

(india.arie, promises)

so little time

2005-03-01T12:40:00.000+10:30

sweet summer soundtrack...in the true spirit of mary-kate and ashley goodness...
(not in any particular order)

1.) spoon, that's the way we get by
2.) the beautiful girls, weight of the world
3.) gwen stefani, what are you waiting for?
4.) the streets, it was supposed to be so easy
5.) relient k, which to bury, us or the hatchet?
6.) gem, just a ride
7.) five iron frenzy, every new day
8.) red hot chili peppers, suck my kiss
9.) reel big fish, beer
10.) the dandy warhols, godless
11.) missy higgins, the special two
12.) sounds like chicken, entrails
13.) crying out loud, portrait of weakness
14.) anberlin, paperthin hymn
15.) joel turner, these kids
16.) silverchair, tuna in the brine
17.) nina simone, feeling good
18.) jamiroquai, canned heat
19.) alicia keys, if i aint got you
20.) carmen mccrae, is you is or is you aint my baby?
21.) switchfoot, gone
22.) u2, vertigo
23.) gavin degraw, just friends
24.) fm static, definitely maybe
25.) blues brothers feat. aretha franklin, think
26.) idea of north, masquenada
27.) israel kamakawiwo'ole, somewhere over the rainbow
28.) natasha bedingfield, these words
29.) 88, how good it can be
30.) the darkness, love is only a feeling
31.) cordrazine, crazy
32.) ben harper, brown eyed blues
33.) the whitlams, no aphrodisiac
34.) smashing pumpkins, tonight tonight
35.) hugh masekela, mama
36.) billy joel, vienna
37.) portishead, glory box
38.) india.arie, promises
39.) placebo, pure morning
40.) the cat empire, the lost song

break it down for ecleticism

just a kid who dreamed it big

2005-02-27T12:25:00.000+10:30

break it downnnn.

that is all.

not really.

hi. lara says to talk about her, but i'd prefer to talk about my week. which she was in, albeit generally as a guest star. unfortunately. because i've not really been at home this week--yes, alix has actually been going out and doing holiday stuff. woot.

on monday i worked. on tuesday i saw pat and went to bible study. on wednesday i went to the eu (on-campus christian organisation) orientation day, which was fab and so inspiring and exciting, and then went out to dinner to celebrate the brief return of her coolness herself, miss kirsty e, to sydney from her new abode of canberra. thursday i shopped for a little while and managed to spend a fair chunk of money, then went to ker's to watch a couple of dvds before work. on friday, i went shopping again and spent more money on some awesomely kitschy shoes and this fab yellow top i've been pining after, and then i went to work and youth group. on saturday i worked again, and then claire and i went out to balmain to catch the cruise band, brown sugar. playing, as in. to catch them playing. not to like, play hide and seek and catch them. or something.

so: earnt money with which to shop, shopped, saw my great kooky wonderful friends. not least of all claire, who ran far far away where i couldn't see her, which sucked. namely the gold coast. and really, i don't care if she was having fun or not, coz i missed her and wanted her to come home. selfish any? yeah. we had a great night out on saturday (yay, i beat phil out for 'claire time'...since valentine's day it's officially become a competition. or battle of the titans, if you will. not that it's really a battle at all, because everyone knows i kick his butt at everything, especially four-unit maths questions. but i humour him. you know how it is). this going out business is mightily tiring, but overall, it's been fun. it's been nice to get a bit of distance from home, even though things are floating along calmly at the moment. i've been making a really conscious effort to bite my tongue and be loving towards my parents even when they're being a bit less than loving towards me. and despite the fact that they can't seem to say it, my parents don't want me to leave again, so they're making an effort too i think. yay for effort.

some fab links, just as a sidenote:
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/end.php
a remarkably accurate depiction of the world's political sphere through an illustration of the end of the world (plus, they say 'woot' and 'word' and 'yo', so it's cool, hehe)
http://www.whiteboydj.com/babygotbook/
just check it out, watch it. the funniest thing i've seen in ever. yiew. i like big bibles too!

sounds gracing my eardrums: anberlin, paperthin hymn

i dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

2005-02-22T17:48:00.000+10:30

9.30am: awoke, stumbled from room whilst fumbling for my red glasses, ate stupid coco-pops, read a bit of who magazine to get my mind off the whole cereal thing, showered, plucked eyebrows, got changed.
10.30am: grabbed some rockin cds--everything from joss stone to sons of korah to silverchair to the streets. closed up the house, locked the doors with my awesomely kitschy pink patterned keys, threw on my earphones and let switchfoot drown out the sounds of the motorway and of my feet as i trudged to the station.
11.02am: caught train to central.
11.34am: caught train from central to parramatta. an experience since i don't think i've ever really been there before.
12 noon: met random boy. ok, not that random. and no, i didn't like get myself raped in parramatta or anything. not to pay out rape victims. eep. anyway. i met pat at a friend's eighteenth the other saturday, and we hit it off. or at least we argued about christianity and discovered a mutual love for drama, coldplay, and the chili peppers. both of which needed to be explored further. pat's a country boy (i forgive him, just!), from the blue mountains, so parramatta was the go due to the whole travelling distance thing. i had mixed feelings about spending the day with him, not apprehension as such--a bit of bemusement, because, after all, we were both coming a fairly long way to see each other even though we'd only met once and spent at least half that time arguing. but hey, pat's hella cute in the tall, well-dressed way that i so like, so i definitely wasn't dreading seeing him. (read: alix is in a truthful mood today. watch out.)
12.15pm: followed pat's intition all the way to parramatta westfields, an atm, and a pretzel world outlet. ate pretzelly-goodness and reminisced about the cruise. wandered around the shops aimlessly, stopping only when i sensed a cd store coming up. went to a clothing store pat reccommended, where i convinced him to buy a (very) pink top that i promise he'll pick up in. mm go my persuasiveness.
1.30ish: meandered (love that word) down to the very ugly poo-coloured parramatta river. sat down and started pouring over cds, but...this guy doing evangelism work came up straight away and pat agreed to listen to what he had to say. i'm telling you, the kid is interested, even if only so he can disagree about christianity in an educated way. but still. i didn't even have to work to get the conversation around to the important stuff. we talked life, we talked death, we talked sin, we talked creation groaning, we talked sacrifice, and we talked love. it was pretty draining. but those are the conversations that matter; and, even if pat's lack of understanding about the true extent of hell's horrors and of god's unfailing love is preventing him now from grasping what a big decision he's making by turning his back on his creator--maybe these are the conversations that will eventually lead him to renege that decision. maybe.
3ish: got subway, ate subway.
4ish: caught different trains to different destinations.

we're pretty similar really. ok, so there's a fair bit of disparity between our respective uais, but then there's an almost equal amount of disparity in the amount of effort we respectively put into the hsc. drama students. music tastes. height. style. oversized sunglasses. a penchant for pink shirts (hehe). a love of bowling. on-pitch vocal cords. a talent for holding a conversation. strong views. a stubborn streak. i'm finding myself wishing he would just hurry up and become a christian so i can consider liking him. because he's very nice, and pretty damn fine. but i've seen friends travel down that path, and i know better than to put anything else before god's love. it's the harder, more frustrating decision, but it's the decision that accords with god's wishes for my life. and how better can a decision be than if it has the sanction of the lord?

sketches for my sweetheart the insomniac

2005-02-22T02:26:00.000+10:30

please could you stop the noise i'm tryin a get some rest?

from all the unbornchikkenvoices in my head?

huh what's that?

i'd forgotten how much i love that song. actually, that band. i so dig that whole angst-wrenched bleeding heart lyrical poetic mess. go radiohead. a couple of years ago i listened to ok computer on repeat basically every afternoon when i came home from a school day i'd hated.

the quintessential drama student, i am frequently accused of practicing such evils as melodrama and hystrionics, maybe even both at th same time; the more tired i get, the more those labels justify themselves. hell, what else is there to do but overthink everything that ever happened to you ever when your eyelids beg to fall and your muscles yearn relaxation, but your head refuses to shut down? constant churning, wheels turning. instant replay. exaggeration, modification, perversion. my brain doesn't stop.

what i've done today, what i'm doing tomorrow, what i'm planning, what i'm dreaming, what i'm needing, what i've failed at.

who i've hurt, who i've helped, who i've engaged in meaningless banter, why it's meaningless, who i've confided in, why i chose them.

boys. girls. parents. sisters.

what i want.
what i want to change.
what i want to change about myself.

why i think so damn much.

why god has put me right where i am and directed my feet into the future.

why i can't dance (particularly if god is directing my feet).

why boys smell.

why life seems more tragicomic when god turns off the sun and i turn off my bedside light.

why i care so much about what i look like, and what i don't look like.

why i'm better at spelling than multiplying.

why feet are so unattractive.

why chocolate tastes so good.

why my motives aren't pure.

why i can't get away with semi-random semi-literate ranting like thom yorke can.

lord unchain my hands

2005-02-17T19:19:00.000+10:30

the premier's awards, today, were mightily boring. (basically it's a nice award whereby my good friend bob goes 'yeah, i've had a bit of a gander at your hsc results kiddo, and fair dinkum, i like em.' or similar.)

i got this cool glass trophy though, which i haven't even broken yet! and i didn't even stack it once. and, seated in alphabetical order, i ended up next to this nice chick who was about as cheeky and rebellious as i was feeling so we whispered throughout the whole ceremony--as all 916 recipients shook The Bob's hand and smiled as the flash went off. and we snuck out and bought some glorious fudge during rehearsal toilet break, so we devoured that during the ceremony as well. good times. her name's keira and she's doing some combined health-related degree at the cumberland campus this year. cool kid. quoted bring it on ('awesome! oh wow! like totally freak me out...') and that 'i like big butts' song with me. so she's fun in my book.

in (slightly) more earth-moving news tonight, i had a talk/debate/whatever with my mum this morning and she is no longer pretending i don't exist. which is a good thing.

sounds gracing my eardrums: the darkness, love is only a feeling

perfect

2005-02-16T21:47:00.000+10:30

last night was the first bible study of the year. since i'm a newcomer to the study group, and i've been feeling pretty emotionally fragile these last couple of days, i made a big effort to stay focused and involved, to be confident about my ideas and my opinions, and to attempt to articulate myself well. we're studying the book of james for the next few weeks, and though i had intended to read and make notes on the book in its entirety before the first study, it didn't happen. i did, however, go through the first chapter last wednesday, just before the crazy badness went down (check out my sad white chick homie lingo, hehe).

james was most probably written by james, eldest brother of jesus. the apostle james was martyred years before the letter's composition, and neither of the other two jameses (hehe) mentioned in the new testament were well-known or influential enough to have introduced themself simply as "a servant of god and of the lord jesus christ." it was probably written to christian jews scattered from jerusalem in about 47/48 AD, so about ten years after jesus' resurrection. in contrast to paul's letters, which were generally addressed to the gentiles, james presents issues from a jewish perspective.

as we covered last night, james 1:1-11 presents three main ideas: perseverence, wisdom from god, and humility.

1.) perseverence (vs 2-4):

consider it pure joy, my brothers,

whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith

develops perseverence.

perseverence must finish its work so that you

may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

we should look on trials with 'pure joy'--not enjoying them as such, but recognising them as god-given opportunities to develop perseverence (in faith, in trusting god and his 'big plan'). perseverence in turn creates 'maturity' and 'completeness', which translates into godliness, that is, a state of becoming what god desires for our lives. trials can thus be used as a tool for becoming more godly. this doubles back: the more godly a person is, the more able they shall be to cope with trials and tribulations.

matthew 5:11-12: (jesus said:) "blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

romans 5:3: not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverence; perseverence, character; and character, hope.

1 peter 1:6: in this (the promise of heaven) you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.

2.) wisdom from god (vs 5-8):

if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask god

who gives generously to all without finding fault,

and it will be given to him.
but when he asks, he must believe and not doubt,
because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea,
blown and tossed by the wind.

that man should not think he will recieve

anything from the lord;

he is a double-minded man,

unstable in all he does.

james turns to the man who is under trial, and has not the wisdom to deal with it or comprehend god's working amidst such hardship. he calls for us to ask god for wisdom, to pray to god that he will grant us wisdom for attaining godliness in heart, thought and deed. the focus of the struggling believer's prayer is a desire to live in accordance with god's wishes. the 'doubter' james speaks of is 'double-minded' and 'unstable', tossed around and uncertain in his belief. but there is no middle ground. you either believe, or you don't. you are commited, or you're not. this doesn't mean that if you believe you won't doubt, or fail to live up to god's perfect standards--because both are inevitable. but it does mean that a 'double-minded' man, whose moral focus is split and whose butt aches from fence-sitting, cannot expect anything from god, because if you are not for him, you are against him. so one could almost translate verse six to read: 'but when he asks, he must believe and not not believe.'

3.) humility (vs. 9-11):

the brother in humble circumstances

ought to take pride in his high position.

but the one who is rich should take pride in his low position,

because he will pass away like a wild flower.

for the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant;

its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed.

in the same way, the rich man will fade away

even while he goes about his business.

these few verses are pretty complicated, and at first glance fairly jarring to rich westerners like myself. suffice to say that riches are meaningless, and the pursuit of wisdom for godliness, through perseverence, is all-important. james doesn't talk about the rich in a positive light due to situational issues--he is, after all, writing to a predominately poor sector of society, and, at least generally, condemning rich non-christians. the message for us is not that all rich people are going to hell, because god has blessed us with those riches andand he himself placed us in our privileged position in australia. inherent in these verses is a stark warning against the temptation of wealth and a plea for us to avoid having a heart for riches.

with a view to eternity: when jesus returns, the poor will no longer be poor, but the rich will lose their wealth. wealth and earthly possessions are temporary, and ultimately insignificant.

sounds gracing my eardrums: missy higgins, katie

passion's overrated anyway

2005-02-16T09:58:00.000+10:30

i hate breakfast food. i really, really do. i'm not a fan of any kind of cereal (though i'll eat coco-pops over anything else, just because of the chocolate flavour). and i'm utterly sick of having two pieces of slightly-burnt toast, one with a little bit of jam, and one with nutella (chocolate fix again).

i used to eat toasted (well, actually, grilled, because we don't have a toaster in our house so we use the grill--yeah, i know it's weird) blueberry bagels every morning. i put butter and sugar on them. that sounds strange, but try it once and you'll understand the appeal. divine. but then, for no reason at all, my mother decided to stop buying them. so now every morning i dread breakfast because it tastes so bad. maybe if mum hadn't taken away my bagels, i wouldn't start every day on such a bad note, and then i'd be happier and maybe more able to sustain relentless criticism from her?

i'm also partial to hot porridge smothered in brown sugar. but do we have that at home? nope.

hehe. yes i know it's pathetic. but stuff is so messed up that even the little things are getting to me.

711, keep me warm

2005-02-14T12:32:00.000+10:30

ok, so my last post was mostly an attempt to channel my inner emo child, crying black eyeliner tears. tongue-in-cheek, if you will. but nonetheless, life has shown once again how abruptly things can turn spectacularly bad. the dysfunction that is my relationship with my mother has reared its ugly, ugly head, bubbling to the surface (as it always does). last time she told me to leave, i promised myself that i would do so the next time she made it clear that i wasn't welcome in 'her' house--so, on thursday night, i ran. away. from my parents, and unfortunately my sisters.

claire came to pick me up, and patiently listened to my angsty rantings and tearful frustrations. living on a mattress in claire's room was welcome distraction, even if it was only prolonging the inevitable. meanwhile she drove me to work and to youth group and to work again so i could pretend to be my normal, eccentric, happy, confident self. (however, how natural my 'normal' social state is was, i think, shown by my uncanny ability to fake it these last few days. hmm.)

having finished five long hours teaching kids to swim with a frozen smile plastered across my face, and having mulled around claire's room for a couple of hours in an effort to put off coming home, i rang the doorbell to my mother's house (after all, i hardly feel welcome). thankfully, mum was asleep and the door was opened to reveal lara's beautiful face. apparently, as i later found out, if mum had had her way i wouldn't have been allowed home at all. talk about love. anyway. then i retreated to my room, unpacked my bags, hung up the clothes scattered over my bed, tidied up the piles of books and paperwork and cds...and put myself to bed. i have a feeling that i could actually be getting really sick: splitting headaches, aching glands and muscles, sore throat, and of course the horrible cough i've had for almost a month.

getting away taught me a few things. firstly, that moving out and forcing my parents to allow me independence is a viable option. how many times have i been told that i am utterly incompetent and completely dependent? to an extent, this is true. but there are options; the christian organisation at sydney uni, for example, offers great living assistance and rental opportunities, and centrelink provide monetary support to full-time students. the second thing i learnt impacts on the first. my friends, and in particular claire and jono, have proven themselves selfless and compassionate and caring and concerned, not just in kind words but in practical help when i needed it most. i am so very bad at sharing my problems with others that my friends don't generally get a chance to prove their support of me. claire says it's because i'm so good at listening; i inspire confidence in people to express their own problems, often at the expense of my own. maybe she's right: the other week, at about 3am at an 18th that was slowly winding down, this random guy came up to me and launched into his life story, suicidal tendencies and all. sometimes i get a bit resentful towards my friends because i feel like i end up giving heaps of emotional support to them without recieving any in return. but in truth, it's my fault because i don't share in the first place. ker, bel, eirian, all those kids, have offered to have me if i need a place to stay, also. and they totally rock. but anyway, my point is that now i am certain that my incredible friends will be there to hold my hand if i do decide to go it alone. which makes moving out an option for me.

there's one major problem with me moving out though
i'd have to learn to...cook.

in other news, it's valentine's day. yiew. i'm not a fan of valentine's. yeah sure, there's the whole commercialism, consumerism, invented by hallmark, questionable motives of valentine writing to his jailer's daughter. but to be perfectly honest, i think i'd quite like it if i ever had someone to share it with.

i'm pretty sad huh.

sounds gracing my eardrums: massive attack, inertia creeps

why does it always rain on me?

2005-02-13T17:07:00.000+10:30

(check out the angst.)

life/death

bleeeding
... ...painn

deyghhh hatred anger venomous lying yelling screaming spite
llovr?
choices, pain and life OrR life and pain

mental
***anguish**

#smirking passion
RYUNNING AWAY

leave me alone

through misconception

2005-02-10T11:27:00.000+10:30

i am so glad i was wrong.

last night was fab. claire and i had an awesome time. the boys, ok, men (it sounds so incredibly dumb and cliched but seriously, there's a massive and obvious difference), picked us up from town hall; we went to arthouse for pre-dinner drinks (where, to claire and my dismay, we got asked for id--as per usual), and then to an italian restaurant on darling harbour. it was such a good night.

why 'men' and not 'boys', i hear you ask?
1.) hello, we went to pre-dinner drinks. and they never considered letting us pay for ours.
2.) well, they didn't get asked for id. hehe.
3.) they're incredibly respectful of us and genuinely interested in what we have to say and getting to know our personalities (as opposed to getting to know our bodies. eek.)
4.) they can hold conversation for a good four hours, no worries.
5.) they're secure enough in their own masculinity to be able to handle my frequent jokes about their manhood.
6.) they drove us all the way home, like almost an hour out of their way, without being asked. just to save us the train trip. i'm like "are you taking us to town hall?" and deni's like "something like that" and proceded to drive us home.

ok, there are more reasons than that. it was just the general vibe. (note that some boys are so close to being men that it's not funny--the wonderful philmeister, for one, would have little trouble fulfilling most of the above six points, albeit probably without the same level of confidence as eric and deni. but then, ten years of inexperience can hardly be held against lovely boys like phil.)

probably one of the best things about last night was the totally platonic nature of our mutual relationships. i completely misjudged deni, or at least, he was acting totally out of character on the cruise with his flirtatious behaviour towards claire the gorgeous. very few arm pats, much less arm-over-the-shoulder stuff. (which, when you think about it, has really great implications for an understanding of deni's motives for asking us to dinner. maybe he just enjoys our company?? go us!) we spoke at length about thorny issues of the heart. well, to be fair, we spoke about deni and eric and claire's prospective lovers, and my lack thereof. but same diff right? oh well. deni and eric are both debilitated by intense pining for apparently goddess-like women. love is a many splendored thing. i got to put my dr phil hat on and pretend to give advice borne of personal experience (yeah right).

definitely one of the best things about last night was deni's promise to introduce me to one barry southgate. as in the ridiculously good-looking idol semi-finalist from this season.

break it down.

and apparently he's a christian, which is even more attractive a characteristic than his perfectly sculptured face, chocolatey skin and teased afro. (i am such a damn fool.)
all i've got to do is show up to their next gig, coz deni's organising barry's band for him. so maybe i do have a prospective lover? hehe. i have a bad feeling that he's not exactly an intellectual giant, but hell, i'll be at uni and surrounded by cute smart preppy tall christian boys, so maybe i'll have no need for him. hehe! i better be surrounded by cute smart preppy christian boys, or i'll be cut. something severe.

sounds gracing my eardrums: the beautiful girls, so it seems
(yes, my favourite beautiful girls song, which they didn't, i repeat didn't play at their concert on saturday. even though they did half an hour of encore, and every song they started i was waiting for it. since it's the first song on their album. grr. but the concert was great anyway, i guess. hehe.)

this corner of the earth

2005-02-09T10:55:00.000+10:30

tonight i'm going to dinner with my best friend claire (who is the greatest, by the way) and two much older musos.

the funny thing is, it seems like everytime claire and i go out anywhere, we get guys trying to pick us up. and by we i mean she--i get to be hot by association. hehe. anyway. claire's extreme hotness and confidence aside, we met deni and eric on the schoolies cruise, on which they were employed as part of the live band. deni is totally interested in claire. it's actually mildly hilarious. he's been messaging me like 'oh alix, how are you? i've missed you' and 'we've got to catch up' (except his messages are almost unreadable coz he's big on crazy sms abbreviation and rarely uses consonants). but the translation of those messages goes something like this:
'hey alix, how is your friend claire? i've missed her. i really want to see her again so i can see if i have a chance with her or not. even though i'm like fifteen years older than her. damn that girl is hot. and we are mutually interested in martial arts, so we're totally soul mates.'

seriously.

but anyway, eric and i got along really well on the cruise--no, not really really well, but he's a great guy who can actually hold a conversation for more than five minutes, which separated him from most of the other males on the cruise. he's got it bad for some chick who's afraid of commitment; plus he's like thirty-three. besides, i'm not interested. suffice to say that it will be good to have a chat to him, whilst giggling internally every time deni puts his arm around claire or touches her arm or looks deep into her eyes. and then cough really unsubtley (no, that's not a word) to cover up the fact that my internal giggle has escaped.

quite apart from that, claire's been really sick and i haven't seen her for about four hundred years, so i'm looking forward to talking about our 'issues'. hehe.

this week is shaping up to be an odd one, characterised by two rather unusual practices (for me, anyway)
1. getting fit: i fully went to the gym last night and did a rbm bike class thing with my ultra-buff friend eirian. the instructor dude didn't say anything to me apart from pointing out that my knees are screwed. thanks, but nothing new there. and then this morning i got up at the uncivilised hour of 4.30 to go to swimming training, at which i sucked, but nevertheless. go me.
2. going on dates: yeah this is so unlike me it's not funny, but there is a relative abundance of boys wanting to take me places this week. i'm not complaining. but it's freaking me out a bit. i met this guy from katoomba, pat, at a party the other week, for example, and he's coming down (up? meh) from the blue mountains to see me. maybe he just likes long train trips. either way, go me.

sounds gracing my eardrums: the dandy warhols, nietzsche

number one

2005-02-08T22:43:00.000+10:30

i am a blog virgin no longer. what a brilliant medium for pretending i think deeply about...stuff. what a fantastic way to avoid getting learned when those studious days come around again. at the moment, i am absolutely loving my holidays. like seth cohen deciding he wants to "marry the hotel" in las vegas, i wouldn't mind tying the knot with hot summer days filled with unstress, unresponsibility, and unhealthy eating. mm chocolate. speaking of yumminess and also of that fab guilty pleasure known commonly as the oc, the extreme hotness of one adam brody deserves a mention in this here my first bloggage. that kid is fine! i gotta find me a seth cohen. mental note to self: be on lookout for preppy beanpole nerds with curly hair. who am i kidding, i'm always on the lookout for them. add 'christian' and i'll be sweet, thank you very much.

so very many people warned me that by january i'd be sick of holidays. so not. so incredibly not. certainly i am looking forward to uni (mainly because i'm excited about checking out bands at manning bar and joining the fab christian org on-campus)--but not that much. not so much that i'm bored of doing nothing. oh sweet nothing. it's such a novelty to go out all day, or meet up for coffee or lunch or dinner (or all of the above), or stay awake all night, or ring people at obscene hours. or just to sit at home blissfully aware that no essay awaits composition and no reading awaits my tired eyes. and it's really great to listen to music twenty-four hours a day. lately i've been buying a cd a day, on average--my music junkiness has become a full-blown addiction. i can no longer venture into a cd store without mentally wrestling with a couple of price-tags and my (slowly nonexistent) bank account.

my dwindling funds are forcing me to become better at making my own (free) fun. a subconscious--but deliberate, i like to think--decision to leave my keycard at home on a day-long city shopping spree meant that i didn't have to file for bankruptcy with my parents. and last saturday a couple of cool kids and i played trivial pursuit very badly until the wee hours of sunday morning. having said that, before we played trivial pursuit that night i did buy a tshirt at the beautiful girls concert that i really never intended nor budgeted to buy. so saturday night is maybe not the best example. but this not-spending-money thing is a work in progress. after all, i am such a good shopper that i manage to buy clothes, shoes and cds without actually having any money to spend. go figure. i'm working on it. really i am. though i doubt i'll ever be able to fully deny the lure of new things--actually, i reckon retail therapy keeps me out of real therapy--i'm trying to rethink the way i spend my money. apart from slowly paying back the grand i owe my folks, the only things i've bought these last few days are presents for the thousands of eighteenth birthdays that have booked up my saturday nights these holidays. i even got into the gym for free last night because an old friend was working. yiew!

somedays i realise how ridiculous the amount of stuff i own is and feel hella guilty about it. actually, more and more as i get older, the mound of clothes on my chair in my room seems pretty wasteful (that's right, check out my heightened social conscience). i've wanted to sponsor a child for a while now, like through world vision or some christian organisation. so i might actually budget that in each week. and i'll put a bit more than my usual in the plate at church this week.

(not that that's gonna change the fact that i'm basically a commercial enthusiast, basking in the glory of plastic consumerism.)

damn i am good at talking about myself.