I've quoted her before, but at times it seems necessary to remind ourselves that
Just because everything's changing,
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before.
The best you can do is to know who your friends are
as you head out for the war.
Pick a star on the dark horizon,
and follow the light -
You'll come back, when it's over.
No need to say goodbye.
But, also:
The search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So you finally know you can control where you go
You can steer.
Hold this feeling like a newborn
Of freedom surging through your veins
You have opened up a new door
So bring on the wind, fire and rain.
And, feel the
RUSH FOR A CHANGE OF ATMOSPHERE.
'cos we're
ON OUR WAY.
The intrepid foursome are going our seperate ways. I suppose four seasons in one day was always destined to be an ephemeral thing.
Man, I've made so many music quotes in this post!!!
Le gasp. Anyway, the new chapters of our lives are starting! We're turning the page, and while we've balanced on the precipitous trembling paper-edge for the last few months, we're finally cresting, now sliding, down the other side.
We've left chapter 18: The Crossroads. We've reached A New Beginning.
Life is certainly amazing.
In a semi-related topic; WHERE THE DANG IS THAT MAILMAN??
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
forty two degrees
Need I say more? I've worked all day, and it's 6:30pm, but I think I'm going to go to the beach.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
4 eighteen year old girls; 3 drivers licences; 2 cars; 1 birthday
Sound wild?
* * *
My birthday, I woke to a present at my door - but don't get too excited. It was one my dog left for me. Heat hung over the morning and thickened like a shroud slowly lowered, while beneath it all I scrubbed and cleaned and peformed other menial, unremarkable chores not usually associated with one's 18th.
My room effectively tidied, my sister Sleeping Beauty roused and perched with me, bleary-eyed, on my bed as I opened my gifts from my parents and her. Amongst the polka-dotted paper lay on my lap for a long moment the book she had lost ten years ago, my favourite book, an exact replica, surmounting another - a Complete Idiot's Guide to Learning Italian. It was a touching experience.
From my parents, an '18' wineglass and collection of underclothes, which I sorely needed. No more dressing like an ill-begotten hobo for me!
Moments after, the girls, my wayward companions and confidantes - Ess, Tea and Jay, - arrived in Jay's family people-mover. Dragging with them two unicycles, two laptops, two pillows, and other large and lumpy things, they came up the deep honey coloured stairs and down the hall to my room. Here, after gift-opening and a bout of movie-watching, we departed for a round of op-shopping through Toukley!
We piled into the people-mover; Jay behind the wheel, me riding shot-gun, Tea and Ess etch-a-sketching in the back. We delved throught the treasure hoards and ventured like explorers through the book shelves and clothes-racks and countless obelisks of pre-loved paraphernalia of these nooks in the Toukley streets.
Finally, our tummies rumbling, our arms laden with swag, we headed home for lunch.
My room was a furnace; we sweleterd in its heat, sprawled upon the floor. We tried on costumes, feeling the need to shoot anything, everything, but were finally detered by the heat.
We drove off to my Grandfather's place to see his latest accquisition; a second-hand boat, which he had already inevitably begun to refurbish and polish. From here, we made our way in a snap-decision to my twice-removed old house in the country, for Ess had never seen it before.
The is a long and elaborate story surrounding the house, and I will not go into it. Needless to say, I looked on it from the road with much nostalgia.
Coming home, we ate dinner and savoured the birthday cake my sister had made for me; a cold banana cake with lemon cream-cheesie icing. We watched the first Star Wars movie; Episode 1, discussing and debating it all the while. {PN: OH ANAKIN, WHY??!} Then we talked into the night, and drifted off 'til morning.
It is still hot in my room and my eyes, though it is mid-morning, feel tired in the heat. For now I will end it as that, and detail our next-day travails when it is cooler, and I am more up to typing.
A bientot.
(IN OTHER NEWS: We recieved out University offers. I got into my course. :) )
The girls came around at about 9:30; Ess, Jay and Tea. We went op shopping, all around Toukley
* * *
My birthday, I woke to a present at my door - but don't get too excited. It was one my dog left for me. Heat hung over the morning and thickened like a shroud slowly lowered, while beneath it all I scrubbed and cleaned and peformed other menial, unremarkable chores not usually associated with one's 18th.
My room effectively tidied, my sister Sleeping Beauty roused and perched with me, bleary-eyed, on my bed as I opened my gifts from my parents and her. Amongst the polka-dotted paper lay on my lap for a long moment the book she had lost ten years ago, my favourite book, an exact replica, surmounting another - a Complete Idiot's Guide to Learning Italian. It was a touching experience.
From my parents, an '18' wineglass and collection of underclothes, which I sorely needed. No more dressing like an ill-begotten hobo for me!
Moments after, the girls, my wayward companions and confidantes - Ess, Tea and Jay, - arrived in Jay's family people-mover. Dragging with them two unicycles, two laptops, two pillows, and other large and lumpy things, they came up the deep honey coloured stairs and down the hall to my room. Here, after gift-opening and a bout of movie-watching, we departed for a round of op-shopping through Toukley!
We piled into the people-mover; Jay behind the wheel, me riding shot-gun, Tea and Ess etch-a-sketching in the back. We delved throught the treasure hoards and ventured like explorers through the book shelves and clothes-racks and countless obelisks of pre-loved paraphernalia of these nooks in the Toukley streets.
Finally, our tummies rumbling, our arms laden with swag, we headed home for lunch.
My room was a furnace; we sweleterd in its heat, sprawled upon the floor. We tried on costumes, feeling the need to shoot anything, everything, but were finally detered by the heat.
We drove off to my Grandfather's place to see his latest accquisition; a second-hand boat, which he had already inevitably begun to refurbish and polish. From here, we made our way in a snap-decision to my twice-removed old house in the country, for Ess had never seen it before.
The is a long and elaborate story surrounding the house, and I will not go into it. Needless to say, I looked on it from the road with much nostalgia.
Coming home, we ate dinner and savoured the birthday cake my sister had made for me; a cold banana cake with lemon cream-cheesie icing. We watched the first Star Wars movie; Episode 1, discussing and debating it all the while. {PN: OH ANAKIN, WHY??!} Then we talked into the night, and drifted off 'til morning.
It is still hot in my room and my eyes, though it is mid-morning, feel tired in the heat. For now I will end it as that, and detail our next-day travails when it is cooler, and I am more up to typing.
A bientot.
(IN OTHER NEWS: We recieved out University offers. I got into my course. :) )
The girls came around at about 9:30; Ess, Jay and Tea. We went op shopping, all around Toukley
Saturday, January 17, 2009
bed
I got my wooden bed today. Never really thought it would happen. It's dark wood, with a hint of honey and red to it, the dark, rich red of a blood plum's flesh. It's a simple affair with vertical slats and square, flat knobs, with a tulip carved out of the centre slat on the bed head. At the moment it's propped up against the wall downstairs in the hall, all covered in dust, cob webs, and powderings of other loose garage-nook dirt.
I plan to set it up in the morning, for I am too tired now.
There is little else I feel like writing about. I suppose I'll leave it at that, for now.
I plan to set it up in the morning, for I am too tired now.
There is little else I feel like writing about. I suppose I'll leave it at that, for now.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I found out why Eve smells.
As Gwen Stefani once said,
I never quite understood what she meant by that, until today.
Cleaning my car today I decided to check out the boot. I rarely have to clean in there, 'cos I never put anything in there. Or so I thought.
At first, I thought it was a rotting steak. It was black and slick as tar, and it stuck to its plastic wrapping as if sucking it in. It lay in a dark brown puddle between my earth mattresses and many, many tissue-packets, tiny rice-like maggots sprinkled around, tiny flies swirling lazily about as if they'd never seen the sun. I yelped - a disgusted, drawn out sound, both times confused (as to how a steak could have possibly got in my boot) and relieved (for I had found the source of the smell at last - indeed, a gust of it, grainy with flies, buffered me as I open the boot door).
To be honest, I was in a good mood, and when in a good mood I like to respond to surprising things in a melodramatic way. I ran upstairs and called Mum (as I was at another house) and ranted to her about it for a while, voice loud and half-hysterical, while inwardly I half-seriously toyed with possibility that someone had slipped something vile and weird ( a body part, perhaps) into my car.
I do not buy steak, so we were at a loss as to how the unappreciated thing had turned up in my boot.
"This sh** is bananas,
B-A-N-A-N-A-S..."
I never quite understood what she meant by that, until today.
Cleaning my car today I decided to check out the boot. I rarely have to clean in there, 'cos I never put anything in there. Or so I thought.
At first, I thought it was a rotting steak. It was black and slick as tar, and it stuck to its plastic wrapping as if sucking it in. It lay in a dark brown puddle between my earth mattresses and many, many tissue-packets, tiny rice-like maggots sprinkled around, tiny flies swirling lazily about as if they'd never seen the sun. I yelped - a disgusted, drawn out sound, both times confused (as to how a steak could have possibly got in my boot) and relieved (for I had found the source of the smell at last - indeed, a gust of it, grainy with flies, buffered me as I open the boot door).
To be honest, I was in a good mood, and when in a good mood I like to respond to surprising things in a melodramatic way. I ran upstairs and called Mum (as I was at another house) and ranted to her about it for a while, voice loud and half-hysterical, while inwardly I half-seriously toyed with possibility that someone had slipped something vile and weird ( a body part, perhaps) into my car.
I do not buy steak, so we were at a loss as to how the unappreciated thing had turned up in my boot.
Mum (I could feel her eyes rolling at me from across the phoneline) told me to just close the boot and bring it home so we could deal with it. Hanging up the phone, I was over the melodrama. I didn't feel like exaggerating anymore. I closed the boot, giving the ? a distrustful look, and drove home with all the windows down. Now I knew what the smell could be, I could no longer stand it.
Getting home me and mum classfied the disturbance as rotted bananas though I'd already had the epiphany during the drive home. The smell still lingers, but I feel much better now to know it'll soon be disippitating and contentment is only a few hundred vaccuums away.
But yes. I have photos, but I don't want to frighten you. All I'll say is that they were way, WAY beyond any kind of banana cake potential. You think that's black - you should of seen them!
Then, I had to go to work and be surrounded by the things. I don't think I'll be eating bananas for a long, long time.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
small hours
le gasp!
I am in my room, wirelessly connected to the internet on my laptop. People who DON'T know how big a deal this is right now really shouldn't be reading this blog.
I also have a few scheduled hours at the fruitshop.
Huzzar!
I am also computer illiterate.
I am in my room, wirelessly connected to the internet on my laptop. People who DON'T know how big a deal this is right now really shouldn't be reading this blog.
I also have a few scheduled hours at the fruitshop.
Huzzar!
I am also computer illiterate.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Rich Dad, Poor Dad
Imagine the Australian bushland. Grey and blue and green, a coarse-looking sort of place, with the chainsaw-buzz of cicadas characteristically bearing down on you. The air can be tangible and close, but always it is infused with the smell of eucalyptus, bark, dust and leaf-fall. There are scuttlings and rustlings and slitherings around your feet, and whip-lash bird calls swoop up above.
Now imagine someone has suddenly placed buildings and pathways through there, like milk-cartons in an over-run garden. The bush, for lack of anything else to do, absorbs it in its old, ....... way, and this stamp of civilisation becomes part of the landscape.
The buildings turn grey and blue and dusty green, becoming part of the bush itself, and concrete is indistinguishable from the pale ghostly trunks of the gum trees, and pathways half sink beneath the leaves and bark piling up on the floor. Walkways stories high sling themselves amongst the trees like branches and a labrynth forms.
I went to the University of Newcastle yesterday.
It is not your traditional sort of University. There no lush landscaped gardens and neat courtyards, no castle-like towers or buildings reaching up to a blue and empty sky. Rather, it is an expansive place, with each nook and cranny hidden from the rest, with small, sudden courtyards and winding paths. It seems to have grown from the bush itself. There are rustlings in the undergrowth and one half expects a snake to loll itself out along the path as you make your way from one place to the other.
I didn't mind it, I think. It was deserted when I went for an explore. My friend held our place in one of the long queues snaking through the Great Hall (it was Advisory Day) while I nipped out quickly for a look. Time was limited, and what I saw was only a small fraction of the grounds, but it was fascinating all the same.
We waited an hour in the queue, and then we had to rush off because my friend and her mother, with whom I had come up to Newcastle with, had business to attend to in town. I didn't have an oppurtunity to see the rest of the grounds, which I was a little disappointed about. I'd like to go again.
My friend is rich because her mother is business savvy. It was fascinating hearing her talk on the way home in the car, telling me these things about finances and the stock market crash that recently befell us. I had no idea how terrible it was, nor that we were on a great decline. It was frightening.
The title of this entry is the title of a book she recommended I read about business, money and the economy. She's always had great faith in me. I've know her many years, and she is incredibly clever. She's never been to Uni. Rather, she went to TAFE - and now she's a self-made millionaire!
It did my head in, yesterday, looking at courses and thinking of the future. Do I really want to do Graphic Design? The course is very computer-based, and I'm more a traditional artist. I'm torn in a number of directions - should I try something new, perservere, and get that job at the end of the day?; Should I follow this urge inside me and do English, which I love, instead?
Sigh. Pressure.
Now imagine someone has suddenly placed buildings and pathways through there, like milk-cartons in an over-run garden. The bush, for lack of anything else to do, absorbs it in its old, ....... way, and this stamp of civilisation becomes part of the landscape.
The buildings turn grey and blue and dusty green, becoming part of the bush itself, and concrete is indistinguishable from the pale ghostly trunks of the gum trees, and pathways half sink beneath the leaves and bark piling up on the floor. Walkways stories high sling themselves amongst the trees like branches and a labrynth forms.
I went to the University of Newcastle yesterday.
It is not your traditional sort of University. There no lush landscaped gardens and neat courtyards, no castle-like towers or buildings reaching up to a blue and empty sky. Rather, it is an expansive place, with each nook and cranny hidden from the rest, with small, sudden courtyards and winding paths. It seems to have grown from the bush itself. There are rustlings in the undergrowth and one half expects a snake to loll itself out along the path as you make your way from one place to the other.
I didn't mind it, I think. It was deserted when I went for an explore. My friend held our place in one of the long queues snaking through the Great Hall (it was Advisory Day) while I nipped out quickly for a look. Time was limited, and what I saw was only a small fraction of the grounds, but it was fascinating all the same.
We waited an hour in the queue, and then we had to rush off because my friend and her mother, with whom I had come up to Newcastle with, had business to attend to in town. I didn't have an oppurtunity to see the rest of the grounds, which I was a little disappointed about. I'd like to go again.
My friend is rich because her mother is business savvy. It was fascinating hearing her talk on the way home in the car, telling me these things about finances and the stock market crash that recently befell us. I had no idea how terrible it was, nor that we were on a great decline. It was frightening.
The title of this entry is the title of a book she recommended I read about business, money and the economy. She's always had great faith in me. I've know her many years, and she is incredibly clever. She's never been to Uni. Rather, she went to TAFE - and now she's a self-made millionaire!
It did my head in, yesterday, looking at courses and thinking of the future. Do I really want to do Graphic Design? The course is very computer-based, and I'm more a traditional artist. I'm torn in a number of directions - should I try something new, perservere, and get that job at the end of the day?; Should I follow this urge inside me and do English, which I love, instead?
Sigh. Pressure.
Monday, January 5, 2009
sweet merciful heaven!
I don't know if the above title is blasphemy, so I apologise exceedingly if it is; this was just the phrase that hit me on the distracted drive home, and it seemed appropriate in some far-stretched way.
I've been saving for a laptop.
I don't get much work, as I'm more of a call-girl; I fill in for anyone who isn't up to working, doing sporadic hours. But every dollar, every cent, (apart from the odd few dates, yogurt or petrol) I am saving in a laptop fund -
Ever since I was little, I've wanted a new bed - a dark wooden one, with carved flowers or stained glass. Ever since I was little - and now, finally, for my 18th birthday, my parents have decided to buy one for me. But my laptop need is so consuming that I've even resorted to asking them to overlook the bed and make a monetary contribution!!
And then, a backdoor opens and light falls through...
My parents seem to be in possession of some magic card/account thing, with which I may purchase my laptop and not pay any interest for three years. I'd have it now, and be paying off my parents.
At first, it seemed... a hollow prospect? For what else had I been devoting all my savings to? To what end had I focused my mind, money and energy? I had suddenly something to work for, really earn - and now I get to venture the high-road? It sat ill with me.
But then I thought to myself:
Indi, you are an idiot.
Take the high road. You'll still be paying for it, still working for it...
But will the motivation be quite so intense?
On this dire laptop-need of mine: I don't know where it's come from, or why it is there. It seems an empty yearning, somehow - I feel, deep down, as though I might really be apathetic towards it. What are material possessions anyway? I feel as though I don't truly, deeply, full-heartedly want anything material anymore. They feel like surface-wants, fleeting.
But a laptop certainly would be handy and very, very nifty. I think about it and I am delighted to say that a spark of excitement bubbles still. I am smiling right now.
I'm a many-sided lass, am I not?
I am taking the highroad, and I am excited about it. And I've thought of something new to save for!
Travel!
I've been saving for a laptop.
I don't get much work, as I'm more of a call-girl; I fill in for anyone who isn't up to working, doing sporadic hours. But every dollar, every cent, (apart from the odd few dates, yogurt or petrol) I am saving in a laptop fund -
Ever since I was little, I've wanted a new bed - a dark wooden one, with carved flowers or stained glass. Ever since I was little - and now, finally, for my 18th birthday, my parents have decided to buy one for me. But my laptop need is so consuming that I've even resorted to asking them to overlook the bed and make a monetary contribution!!
And then, a backdoor opens and light falls through...
My parents seem to be in possession of some magic card/account thing, with which I may purchase my laptop and not pay any interest for three years. I'd have it now, and be paying off my parents.
At first, it seemed... a hollow prospect? For what else had I been devoting all my savings to? To what end had I focused my mind, money and energy? I had suddenly something to work for, really earn - and now I get to venture the high-road? It sat ill with me.
But then I thought to myself:
Indi, you are an idiot.
Take the high road. You'll still be paying for it, still working for it...
But will the motivation be quite so intense?
On this dire laptop-need of mine: I don't know where it's come from, or why it is there. It seems an empty yearning, somehow - I feel, deep down, as though I might really be apathetic towards it. What are material possessions anyway? I feel as though I don't truly, deeply, full-heartedly want anything material anymore. They feel like surface-wants, fleeting.
But a laptop certainly would be handy and very, very nifty. I think about it and I am delighted to say that a spark of excitement bubbles still. I am smiling right now.
I'm a many-sided lass, am I not?
I am taking the highroad, and I am excited about it. And I've thought of something new to save for!
Travel!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
novo
I am a little pathetic.
I went to bed last night at a quarter to ten. A quarter to ten! And I felt no guilt - not matter how hard I tried to - about missing the end-of-year-that-only-happens-once-a-year-the-darn-milestone-of-the-year fireworks either. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
In other news:
I still don't feel guilty about it.
But yes. The first of January dawns and ends. It be-eth 2009! I like the sound of 2009. I'm not sure why. I may elaborate further in twelve months or so.
I am so looking forward to Uni. I'm so looking forward to ... life. I've made a number of resolutions I hope to keep - have you?
Washed Eve today. She's developing a mysterious and evasive odour of which I am not particularly fond. I scrubbed and scrubbed every part of her - I even peeled back the seat covers and gave them a thorough going over, scrubbing the naked seat beneath until it stopped oozing brown foam from that suspicious patch {I have a canine companion, you see.}.
And she still smells faintly...unpleasant? I'm not sure - it's an annoying, persistant odour at worst, really. Not terrible. Faintly like feet. But still! I want it out out out!
Poor Eve, sitting on the lawn, gleaming like a splayed white beetle, her unfolded metal carapace.
And yes. At the mo I am thoroughly sticky with sweat and dirt. Sigh.
And that was the beginning of 2009 for me. I hope it isn't reflective of the rest of the year.
Oh, and they shaved my dog.
I went to bed last night at a quarter to ten. A quarter to ten! And I felt no guilt - not matter how hard I tried to - about missing the end-of-year-that-only-happens-once-a-year-the-darn-milestone-of-the-year fireworks either. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
In other news:
I still don't feel guilty about it.
But yes. The first of January dawns and ends. It be-eth 2009! I like the sound of 2009. I'm not sure why. I may elaborate further in twelve months or so.
I am so looking forward to Uni. I'm so looking forward to ... life. I've made a number of resolutions I hope to keep - have you?
Washed Eve today. She's developing a mysterious and evasive odour of which I am not particularly fond. I scrubbed and scrubbed every part of her - I even peeled back the seat covers and gave them a thorough going over, scrubbing the naked seat beneath until it stopped oozing brown foam from that suspicious patch {I have a canine companion, you see.}.
And she still smells faintly...unpleasant? I'm not sure - it's an annoying, persistant odour at worst, really. Not terrible. Faintly like feet. But still! I want it out out out!
Poor Eve, sitting on the lawn, gleaming like a splayed white beetle, her unfolded metal carapace.
And yes. At the mo I am thoroughly sticky with sweat and dirt. Sigh.
And that was the beginning of 2009 for me. I hope it isn't reflective of the rest of the year.
Oh, and they shaved my dog.
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