retrospective blog post
So I wrote this on the plane TO Melbourne, but hey...
I am now stranded in Tullamarine for 10 hours because I missed my flight home.
Har har.
One day there will be internets on the plane. And on that day, I will be a very happy camper (or flyer?).
Alas, in the absence of twitter, facebook and myspace, I’ll have to make do with writing an LJ entry in word and posting it later.
So here I am, somewhere over the Great Australian Bight, listening to Jimmy Eat World and thinking how fucking fabulous it is to be being flown interstate at someone else’s expense. Sure, I almost missed my flight, and in the process managed to smudge my nail varnish (freshly applied in car - do not advise) all to fuck, but who cares? They called my name over the loud-speaker and everything. It was terribly exciting.
Half the problem was having to go through the goddamn security checky bleep machine 8 times. First time, he told me to take off my necklace. Second time, it was my boots. Nope, still beeping. He reckoned it was the pins on my jacket, which he suggested I take off individually.
I pointed out that my flight was boarding and that it might be best if I just took the jacket off. I think he thought I had no shirt under it or something, as he tried to stop me. When he realized that yes, actually, I was wearing other garments (?) all was well. Finally, I walked through the damn thing without beeping.
Oh, and they made me check my bag. It was 2 kilos overweight. Surprise surprise. Cha-ching, $20 in Richard Branson’s pocket, but ah well.
All my in-flight entertainment (Teatre Grotesque by Thomas Ligotti and Poppy Z’s ‘Lost Souls’) was in my big bag, so I guess I’ll be writing for the next three hours. Probably a good thing. Apparently I need to be forced to write, or else I just don’t do it. I am the master of procrastination.
When I get to Melb, I’ll be finding my fellow apple employees and we’ll all be sharing a cab to the apartments. Then its out to dinner with Ashling, I hope. She said something about sushi and bars with taxidermied animals. I’m so there. I’m pretty excited, actually. I’ve wanted to meet Ash just about forever, and I’m pretty sure it’ll rock the casbah.
I remembered (belatedly) that I’ve also never been to Dracula’s, which I really really want to do but I doubt I can gip anyone into going with me on Thursday night. I think we’re getting taken out by apple/SMA people or something. Probably to somewhere far less cool than Dracula’s.
I’m already mentally spending my entire paycheck for this week at Vicious Venus. Obviously need hot outfit to wear to Intrasonic this Saturday. To pick up hot boys/girls and make ex-rape victim jealous. Or something.
Did I mention I am apparently a rapist? I’m pretty sure I announced it on every other social networking thingy, but LJ may have missed the memo. Lock up your sons and your daughters.
This smudged nail varnish is really shitting me. Alas, I left said polish and all polish removing/touching up accoutrements in my mother’s car.
Anyone feel like picking me up for the airport on Friday night? I’ll give you a shiny dollar.
I always forget, when I haven’t been on a plane in awhile, what an awesome feeling it is when you finally feel yourself lifting off the ground. I have a thing about planes. I fucking love them. And short flights are the best kind, because you don’t really have time to get bored or annoyed at your fellow passengers/the smallness of the seats/how cold it is/the fact that its kind of a terrifying experience peeing in an aeroplane bathroom. I love watching the ground slip away. I was smiling like a goon out the window and the dude next to me gave me an odd look.
“I love flying.” I explained. He seemed confused.
I think it comes from flying so much as a kid. I was never really freaked out by it. Even turbulence didn’t (and doesn’t) really bother me. I like that bottomless feeling when you drop through the sky. Its like being on a rollercoaster. Somehow it has never really occurred to me that you could, potentially (even if it is extremely unlikely) die.
Most of all I am just shitkickingly excited to be getting the fuck out of Perth for a few days. Not because its especially bad or nasty in Perth right now, but its such an immense relief to know that for two days, I’ll wake up in a different bed, in a different city, where I barely know anybody.
The temptation to stay until next Wednesday was pretty strong (Flips are playing on Tuesday night - I always swore I would jump at the chance to see them, if they came to Australia again) but I have work next Tuesday. Also, I lack the funds to stay for any length of time. Fuck me though, its tempting. FLIPS!
Nobody informed me you had to buy a freaking update to put apps on an iPod touch. I think this is fucking bullshit.
There is too much HIM on my iPod and very little else. I can never be bothered ripping my albums. Someone remind me to do that before I go to America, or I may go insane.
Life is so weird right now. I feel like I’m finally defining who I am, after three and a half years of being sorta tied (identity wise) to someone else. And then a very ill-advised month of almost doing the same thing. Screw relationships, really. I have friends for emotional support and fun outings and seeing movies and doing whatever the hell you do with your ‘partner’. Right now, I just need a small -> reasonable sized list of people who wouldn’t mind spooning me (and forking me?) occasionally. Never really thought I’d come to that conclusion, but there we are. Oh how things change.
I don’t know, whenever something becomes ‘a relationship’ it seems like the goal posts shift immeasurably and suddenly there are all these expectations (on both sides) and it just goes to shit. I don’t need someone living with me and ordering me about and spending all my money. I don’t need someone else’s emotional baggage to deal with (not that I mind helping people out, or being a shoulder to cry on, or listening - but when its sort of expected that I do that because I ‘have’ to, it becomes tiresome). As long as I have a bunch of people who are willing to go out and get Mexican with me at extremely late notice (and I do) I’m pretty freaking happy.
I’m really just rambling now. And procrastinating on writing these short stories. I wish I had not left Thomas Ligotti in my suitcase. He is pretty rad (you should all check him out - he’s sort of a bizarre mix of Poe and Lovecraft…according to Clockman at Borders. You know the guy I mean. He looks like a clock. Yeah. That guy.).
The only thing I’m kinda disappointed about is not being able to go to the Scotto (har. Scotto. Look how Australian I am.) tonight and listen to Travis DJ. Cause it sounded pretty sweet. But on the other hand, I will hopefully be drinking in a bar full of deceased, stuffed animals with a hot JB HIFI employee, so you win some you lose some?
I’m still curious how the accommodation is going to work out. There are four of us flying over from Perth - two guys, two girls (me and this other guy, from ECU, and I think two peeps from UWA). Apparently the apartments are being allocated according to uni, but I’m not entirely sure I feel comfortable sharing a room with a strange man. Actually, let me amend that statement: I’d feel perfectly comfortable if he was hot. I facebooked him. He isn’t.
Gee whiz, am I a slag now or what? Woo!
Hey, there’s a baby. So far its being well behaved. We’ll see how that goes.
Alright, ok, I promise I’m going to work on something productive now. I’m fairly certain nobody is going to read 1400 words of totally wank anyway, but hey, maybe you’re just as bored as I am. Maybe.
So with that, I leave you. I’ll talk to you bitchez when I touch down in the land of Krispy Kreme and Starbucks.
Ta ta.
I am now stranded in Tullamarine for 10 hours because I missed my flight home.
Har har.
One day there will be internets on the plane. And on that day, I will be a very happy camper (or flyer?).
Alas, in the absence of twitter, facebook and myspace, I’ll have to make do with writing an LJ entry in word and posting it later.
So here I am, somewhere over the Great Australian Bight, listening to Jimmy Eat World and thinking how fucking fabulous it is to be being flown interstate at someone else’s expense. Sure, I almost missed my flight, and in the process managed to smudge my nail varnish (freshly applied in car - do not advise) all to fuck, but who cares? They called my name over the loud-speaker and everything. It was terribly exciting.
Half the problem was having to go through the goddamn security checky bleep machine 8 times. First time, he told me to take off my necklace. Second time, it was my boots. Nope, still beeping. He reckoned it was the pins on my jacket, which he suggested I take off individually.
I pointed out that my flight was boarding and that it might be best if I just took the jacket off. I think he thought I had no shirt under it or something, as he tried to stop me. When he realized that yes, actually, I was wearing other garments (?) all was well. Finally, I walked through the damn thing without beeping.
Oh, and they made me check my bag. It was 2 kilos overweight. Surprise surprise. Cha-ching, $20 in Richard Branson’s pocket, but ah well.
All my in-flight entertainment (Teatre Grotesque by Thomas Ligotti and Poppy Z’s ‘Lost Souls’) was in my big bag, so I guess I’ll be writing for the next three hours. Probably a good thing. Apparently I need to be forced to write, or else I just don’t do it. I am the master of procrastination.
When I get to Melb, I’ll be finding my fellow apple employees and we’ll all be sharing a cab to the apartments. Then its out to dinner with Ashling, I hope. She said something about sushi and bars with taxidermied animals. I’m so there. I’m pretty excited, actually. I’ve wanted to meet Ash just about forever, and I’m pretty sure it’ll rock the casbah.
I remembered (belatedly) that I’ve also never been to Dracula’s, which I really really want to do but I doubt I can gip anyone into going with me on Thursday night. I think we’re getting taken out by apple/SMA people or something. Probably to somewhere far less cool than Dracula’s.
I’m already mentally spending my entire paycheck for this week at Vicious Venus. Obviously need hot outfit to wear to Intrasonic this Saturday. To pick up hot boys/girls and make ex-rape victim jealous. Or something.
Did I mention I am apparently a rapist? I’m pretty sure I announced it on every other social networking thingy, but LJ may have missed the memo. Lock up your sons and your daughters.
This smudged nail varnish is really shitting me. Alas, I left said polish and all polish removing/touching up accoutrements in my mother’s car.
Anyone feel like picking me up for the airport on Friday night? I’ll give you a shiny dollar.
I always forget, when I haven’t been on a plane in awhile, what an awesome feeling it is when you finally feel yourself lifting off the ground. I have a thing about planes. I fucking love them. And short flights are the best kind, because you don’t really have time to get bored or annoyed at your fellow passengers/the smallness of the seats/how cold it is/the fact that its kind of a terrifying experience peeing in an aeroplane bathroom. I love watching the ground slip away. I was smiling like a goon out the window and the dude next to me gave me an odd look.
“I love flying.” I explained. He seemed confused.
I think it comes from flying so much as a kid. I was never really freaked out by it. Even turbulence didn’t (and doesn’t) really bother me. I like that bottomless feeling when you drop through the sky. Its like being on a rollercoaster. Somehow it has never really occurred to me that you could, potentially (even if it is extremely unlikely) die.
Most of all I am just shitkickingly excited to be getting the fuck out of Perth for a few days. Not because its especially bad or nasty in Perth right now, but its such an immense relief to know that for two days, I’ll wake up in a different bed, in a different city, where I barely know anybody.
The temptation to stay until next Wednesday was pretty strong (Flips are playing on Tuesday night - I always swore I would jump at the chance to see them, if they came to Australia again) but I have work next Tuesday. Also, I lack the funds to stay for any length of time. Fuck me though, its tempting. FLIPS!
Nobody informed me you had to buy a freaking update to put apps on an iPod touch. I think this is fucking bullshit.
There is too much HIM on my iPod and very little else. I can never be bothered ripping my albums. Someone remind me to do that before I go to America, or I may go insane.
Life is so weird right now. I feel like I’m finally defining who I am, after three and a half years of being sorta tied (identity wise) to someone else. And then a very ill-advised month of almost doing the same thing. Screw relationships, really. I have friends for emotional support and fun outings and seeing movies and doing whatever the hell you do with your ‘partner’. Right now, I just need a small -> reasonable sized list of people who wouldn’t mind spooning me (and forking me?) occasionally. Never really thought I’d come to that conclusion, but there we are. Oh how things change.
I don’t know, whenever something becomes ‘a relationship’ it seems like the goal posts shift immeasurably and suddenly there are all these expectations (on both sides) and it just goes to shit. I don’t need someone living with me and ordering me about and spending all my money. I don’t need someone else’s emotional baggage to deal with (not that I mind helping people out, or being a shoulder to cry on, or listening - but when its sort of expected that I do that because I ‘have’ to, it becomes tiresome). As long as I have a bunch of people who are willing to go out and get Mexican with me at extremely late notice (and I do) I’m pretty freaking happy.
I’m really just rambling now. And procrastinating on writing these short stories. I wish I had not left Thomas Ligotti in my suitcase. He is pretty rad (you should all check him out - he’s sort of a bizarre mix of Poe and Lovecraft…according to Clockman at Borders. You know the guy I mean. He looks like a clock. Yeah. That guy.).
The only thing I’m kinda disappointed about is not being able to go to the Scotto (har. Scotto. Look how Australian I am.) tonight and listen to Travis DJ. Cause it sounded pretty sweet. But on the other hand, I will hopefully be drinking in a bar full of deceased, stuffed animals with a hot JB HIFI employee, so you win some you lose some?
I’m still curious how the accommodation is going to work out. There are four of us flying over from Perth - two guys, two girls (me and this other guy, from ECU, and I think two peeps from UWA). Apparently the apartments are being allocated according to uni, but I’m not entirely sure I feel comfortable sharing a room with a strange man. Actually, let me amend that statement: I’d feel perfectly comfortable if he was hot. I facebooked him. He isn’t.
Gee whiz, am I a slag now or what? Woo!
Hey, there’s a baby. So far its being well behaved. We’ll see how that goes.
Alright, ok, I promise I’m going to work on something productive now. I’m fairly certain nobody is going to read 1400 words of totally wank anyway, but hey, maybe you’re just as bored as I am. Maybe.
So with that, I leave you. I’ll talk to you bitchez when I touch down in the land of Krispy Kreme and Starbucks.
Ta ta.