9 Holiday To-do's.

1. Read the following:
Anne Rice-
Queen of the Damned
Tale of the Body Thief
Memnoch the Devil
The Vampire Armand
Merrick
Blood and Gold
Blackwood Farm
Blood Canticle
Pandora
Vittorio the Vampire
Mary Shelley-
Frankenstein
George Orwell-
Nineteen eighty-four
Emily Bronte-
Wuthering Heights
Craig Silvey-
Rhubarb (since I met him and he signed it I should give it another crack.)
Gaston Leroux-
The Phantom of the Opera
Oscar Wilde-
The Picture of Dorian Gray (for the twelfth time)
Lord Arthur Savile's Crime & other stories
A House of Pomegranates
The Happy Prince & other tales
The Plays
The Poems
Intentions
De Profundis (because it makes me weep like a baby)
+ Subscribe to Archaeology magazine
++ Get out every Archaeology/Anthropology based book @ the library


2. Watch the following:
Cult films which have somehow escaped me-
The Piano
Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind
Requiem for a Dream
Bad-ass Archaeology based films-
Tomb Raider I & II
The Mummy I, II & III
The Indiana Jones Films
New Releases-
Australia
Quantum of Solace with Estee


3. Finish making my design pieces:
Ladies dress, red
Ladies dress, black
Ladies pants
Ladies sweater
Gent's blazer
Gent's tie
Gent's shirt
Gent's pants
Gent's sweater
+make Tom pose for editorial shots


4. Hopefully get a dslr for Christmas!

5. Get modelling shots done, [gag].


6. <52 kg.
Don't stress!
The healthy way, plenty of fruit & veg,
One hour walks daily (to funktastic ipod beats of course)


7. All my bloody slave-driven hours of working on the holidays better make me 1k.

** Official goal, save one grand of holiday money.

8. Finish having my ball dress made, and get all that girly shit done and out of the way.

9. Finish my novel! Top Secret huzzahhhhh.

  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

Forest

I sit on my knees with my hands pushed into the soil, making my skin cold but my heart warm. Icy breeze cuts across my back; it picks up leaves on its course and embraces them in a fast waltz only to release them and they die alone. The remains of another days sunlight spills out from over the horizon, dwindling on the green hands of my cousins. Wet on my knees and love in my hands.

I am home.

 

The bright silence is deafening as it forces its bliss into my head. Tiny drops of heaven break the white and turn it grey, trickling into my mind where the bliss remains. It amplifies my heightened state and elevates me to a level of being that has a secret name. Only the wind and the trees know its glory, but in that moment I do too. As the sky falls upon my cheeks my soul breaks, and pours down with it.

I am home.

 

All around me life stirs. Stars waking and sun dying. Wind shaking and sky crying. Creatures smiling and flora nodding. I feel them with me, all things before me, all things become me. I am amongst a cosmic sect; I float in their ethereal abode. Only now may I wear their badge, and only now do I truly know. Only here in this moment am I pure, am I whole, am I tasting life, am I truly alive.

I am home.

  • Current Mood
    melancholy melancholy

Bliss

And so it began, a painfully beautiful journey through lost lands.
Over rough terrain for weeks upon days upon months, melting together in a torrent of it.
"It". It was why we came, with our spears and our pencils and our guitars and our mops.
To find "it." To see "it". To touch "it." To feel it.
IT. It. "It".
Hundreds of us, cluttered legs and lonely souls running and walking and leaping and bounding.
After it. It.
Knees down or hands up or knives out and teeth bared.
We had to find it, risking everything, at the cost of every other thing.
We needed it.

But it continues, our epically unsatisfied journey through tragic seas.
Under lightning skies for years upon hours upon decades, clumping together in a mess of it.
"It". It was why we've come, with our daggers and our cameras and our brushes and our shovels.
To find "it." To smell "it". To taste "it." To have it.
Hundreds of thousands of thousands of us, barefoot and wide eyed running and walking and leaping and bounding.
After it. It.
Knees down or hands up or knives out and teeth bared.
We have to find it, risking everything, at the cost of every other thing.
IT. It. "It".
We need it.

From Gertrude to Gladys.

Kill me Gladys.
make it swift.
cut my spinal cord with a toothpick.
i know how much you love those toothpicks Gladys.
we had some good days with those toothpicks.
and the complimentary mints.
but Gladys, i think you know my time has come.
so Kill, my Gladys.
make it swift.
strike true Gladys.
strike true. 
 
  • Current Music
    You Could Easily Have Me - Metronomy

Writer's Block: Perfect Sandwich

Describe your perfect sandwich, layer by layer.



Oh, this is going to make me sound like the most grotesque little shit;

So last week was the first time I'd ever embraced my American-ness and made myself a PBJ sandwich! Peanut, peanut butter!- and jelly-jelly.
And it was actually awesome, so that can go in the sandwich.
But now I feel like I'm abondoning my Australian-ness.
So....... VEGEMITE LAYER.
Party's on now.
A dualnational sandwich, how multicultural.
If only we could all be like my sandwich :)


Thus, right now, it looks like this:
Bread (white bread, because I am not a seed eater, fight me if you wish to)
Peanut butter
Strawberry jam (because in my birth-land jam is called jelly and jelly is called jello. What weird fuckers right?)
More bread.
Vegemite!
Bread again.


So for everyone who actually knows me, I am of course the biggest carnivore.
....
Okay, maybe not biggest in actual size.
Biggest as in, amount of meat intake in comparison to the rest of my diet is rather large.
So lets think of some lovely dead corpse flesh to incorporate in this sandwich from hell....
Let's call it a satanich! Hah! I'm just so funny.
Okay, in the satanich we'll put some... cabanossi.
Because I had some earlier and it made me giggle.
Yes, cabanossi induces giggles, what's it to you? -.-
And some beef because I do enjoy a cow's onamatapoeia.... MOO :)
And venison because Bambi was cute.
And lamb, because its yummy.
And why not chuck a whole pile of other dead parts in for good measure?
A four and twenty meat pie should cover that, isn't it like 87% racoon anyway?


So now, my satanwich consists of:
Bread
Peanut butter
Strawberry jam
More bread
Vegemite!
Even more bread
Assorted lovely dead corpse flesh
Bread again


What now....
Hmmmmmmm.
Oh, GHERKIN RELISH.
THAT STUFF IS FANTASTIC.
Then some camembert.
I do love my cheeses XD
I think that's enough now, because I'm imagining actually ingesting this and Its making me woozy.


THE FINAL ULTIMATE SATANICH! (With pictures ^^)

Bread

Peanut butter

Strawberry jam

Bread

Vegemite

Bread

Assorted lovely dead corpse flesh





Bread again

Gherkin relish

Camembert

Final bread layer!


Thennnnn........///////???!!!


SPONEGBOB SQUAREPANTS LUNCHBOX TO TOP IT ALL OFF!






................................




*Clears throat.*



...

Wow.

:/

I really got into that didn't I?

Scent

You know when your toes involuntarily curl up and your tounge goes numb?
When your neck feels stiff and you ache behind your eyes?
Your saliva drops a few degrees and feels unfamiliar in your mouth?
And underneath your fingernails tastes like rusted blood and raspberries?
Death lingers at the back of your throat...?
And something in the air...
Changes?

That scent that exists solely to inform your soul that something huge is about to happen, and the decisions you make now will affect the rest of your life?...

Or maybe it's just me ^^
  • Current Music
    Dolls - Crystal Castles

The Apocalypse, Heroin, Rice and My Anacondas.

Catchy title eh?
So, I have this plan for when the apocalypse rocks around, and my friend Cara asked me to share it with her.
Thus I figured I'd just type it up here, and then everyone can read the lovely story :)

Okay, well, as after I finish my masters degree in law at Oxford I am moving to New York to become a human rights lawyer.
I will be living in Tribeca, Manhattan, in a penthouse.
In the penthouse I will have a large glass case, filled with tropical plants and water (and those steam spray thingos you get at the zoo).
This case will be a snake house.
I will illegally acquire an anaconda from south east asia.
The anaconda won't be from south east asia, that's just where I'll buy her.
You can buy anything in Thailand.
Seriously.
Once I have purchased my champion boa, I will buy a basement bunker somewhere on the fringes of New York state.
In this basement I will place a huge supply of rice and heroin.
Because if the world blew up and the human race was in chaos what would we need?
Rice, to eat, and heroin, to try to forget that the world blew up.
The rice will come slowly from India over a period of ten years, and I will buy larger quantities when the supplies are selling cheaper.
The heroin will come from my drug dealer side-boyfriend Rococo.
During our relationship I will slowly store up a nice large amount of smack.
As I've learnt in economics, heroin has a pretty much completely inelastic demand.
So... what's the real point of all this rice and heroin?
We'll get back to that in a minute.
Okay, so let's assume that at this time I have completely filled the basement bunker with rice and heroin.
Now we wait...
......
..........
When my anaconda alerts me (with her heightened snake senses) that the apocalypse is approaching, together we will buy male anaconda sperm on ebay and fertilize her eggs.
Anacondas, like all boas, give birth to approximately fourteen live young.
So, just before the apocalypse, fourteen live baby anacondas will burst from the gut of my anaconda.
Then I will train the snakes to break free from their glass case and swim through the sewer system into the basement bunker, get the rice and heroin, and meet me at a safe house.
When the apocalypse comes, who will be in control?
Muahhahahaha.
The new world leader will be the bad ass with a shit load of horse (one of many street-names for heroin, for those of you who don't watch enough tv), a huge food supply and fifteen fucking anacondas for protection.
:)

Blah blah blah blah.

 I hate it when I get all artsy and poetic like this.
Can't I just scream "I AM ANGRY. MY NANNA IS IN HOSPITAL, I HAVE TO STUDY FOR EXAMS, I JUST GAVE UP MEN AND I HAVE MY PERIOD. I AM VERY ANGRY."
But no.
I churn out some "literary work" that would mean nothing to anyone else.
AND I'M PUBLISHING THEM ON THE INTERNET FOR FUCKS SAKE.
I am the biggest douche.
[Actually, second biggest, to the Captain.]
BLAH BLAH BLAH!
Okay I'll shut up and show you the crappy poem now:

Soon 

My soul is escaping
Seeping wearily through my skin
My fingernails weep
My eyes scratch
Until my essence has gone.

But the spirit woman told me that all will be well
As the universe's most favoured yet ungrateful daughter
I sit here, inanimate, and the jewels fall into my lap.

But I know, and she knows, and you know too
That I know
And I'll wake up from this coma
And make our Mother proud
I'm sorry Gaia
I'm sorry Lover
I'm sorry Sister
I can feel it coming now
l will awaken soon
And when I do, they'll all know.

 

  • Current Music
    Wave of Mutilation - The Pixies

I'm giving up men until I turn 17.

I officially refuse to enter any relationship until I am seventeen years old.
Because whenever I see someone attractive I always wonder if I could potentially fall in love with them.
And I don't think that is healthy.
I have these mini-relationships all the time, which I push and push and push till they break.
Then I find a new guy and do it all over again.
Literally every two weeks I've been hunting down someone new to sweep me off my feet.
Then, when its lasted that little bit too long and I start to feel bored, I create drama as a means to end it and start fresh...
...Continually hoping that the next will work out better.
But It never does.
While I'm so unstable as a single, how could I ever function in a couple?
So, after a recent realisation of just how pathetic I have been, I came to another realisation.
Maybe, just maybe, I should be me. 
Just me. 
And actually factor out thinking about guys like that for a while.
Not see a cute guy on a train and have to worry about how I look because he could be my soul mate.
Have a better reason to like someone than their hair or what movies they like.
Not take every little event anyone does as destiny!
"Wow, you like the colour blue too? We must be soul mates!"
Fucking hell, I want to slap myself.
It can't have been destiny with all nine of the last guys I saw in a row!!!!
Again, none of this behaviour is in any way healthy.
I really have no idea what I want, what I'm looking for.
So I need to stop looking for someone else, and find myself.
And actually be happy about myself without having someone near by to reassure me about how I feel about myself.
I can't really be confident about how I feel about myself if I am dependent on having some boy-toy-of-the-week on my arm to tell me its all true.
I need to really believe that I am worth loving.
I need to really love myself.
So I've set aside one year to find myself.
One year to be happy with me without needing someone to help me to love myself.
I need to learn to really, truly, love myself.
To be someone I could love.
And anything that happens after then really isn't worth thinking about at the moment.
Maybe I'll pick the subject up on April 28, 2009 :)

  • Current Music
    Joanna Newsome - Sprout and the Bean