My YES year?

Wonderful Celeste has suggested that my thirty-third year, be the year of YES! So, I am to document everything I say yes to, and if I can associate a song with it, I'll come up with a super playlist too...

So that's the idea. Starting Saturday. Am I putting it off? Umm, no, not really. I don't think?

Anyway, a song to start with. The Rapture's "Olio" off the Yes New York compilation, perhaps? Same version as on 'Echoes', I cannae remember which I heard first though, everything back then is such a blur ...

Yes to NYC for next year as well, too! Hurrah!

art & music is on my mind ....

Today's inspiration: Jonathan Jones' Art blog on the Guardian website.

All of his ideals about artists are pretty amazing, lofty and inspiring. But when he mixes up music - and one of my favourite bands, no less - with talk of art, I'm always particularly interested and intrigued.

Not to mention, the talk of late 70's/early 80's Britain is pretty much the most melancholy time I can imagine, what with Thatcherism at it's height and all the degradation it produced.

His other recent posts on Rothko and religion are pretty great too.

Enjoy.

birthday?

how do i get through the night now?
the next day?
week?
month?
year?
lifetime?

i lied
i told the truth
i parcelled it in lies
i apologised
a lot
i was gracious
i think
i hope things won't change
but i can't imagine them staying the same

i hurt
i'll get over it
i'm sad
empty?
free?

That's good, right?
no
we'll see
never say never
so embarrassing

nervously

apologising
profusely
and promising hope that nothing would be different

i feel i've betrayed him
betrayed his confidence
betrayed his need for an impartial sounding board

i did it to unburden myself
but instead i've burdened him with it

i hope so?
i said we could
i said i could

but not right now, no

i feel lonely
and empty
and sore
and despondent
and hopeless

it's my birthday on saturday
unhappy birthday to me
again
unhappy lonely birthday to me

Groups?

I think I'd really like to try some group therapy. Maybe it's time to speak to my friend about the Grow group she goes to? Maybe not right now, but just to find out more.

It's not often you ever see anything written about dysthmia, so I was pleased to come across this today, hence the post ...

"The symptoms you describe are accurate for dysthymic depression - mild constant depression interrupted by occasional serious episodes."

After that first session, I take a walk. It has become stunningly obvious that my noticeable traits of character - things I had put down to personal idiosyncrasies - are actually symptoms of depression: isolation, difficulty having relationships, feeling sad, rejecting affection.

I'm scared to read on though, in case she worries - like I do - that what you feel is inherent to your very personality and being, is described as bad or wrong by the medical professionals. Needing to be changed.

But changed into what? God only knows I'd love to have the answers to that and other such questions. I could have slayed **** yesterday when they were carrying on about knowing where their life and career were going. I'm just starting on that journey, trying to figure out where I want things to go, it's only just beginning for me. So, I don't think it's wrong that I don't have any answers just now. Or is it? Oh, I don't know, it's all horribly boring anyway, really.

So I'm nearly 33 and just beginning. At least I'm beginning again, and not still heading towards the end ...

WIll this ever get easier?

Having to talk to new people about my illnesses and then fill in fricking forms to analyse my depression/anxiety/suicide/general mentalness levels really dampens my mood. Is that surprising? Probably not. But the past two Friday's have been ruined by said occurences, of course, other good things have come out of them - not everything is all doom and gloom - but I just hate the absolute low that I hit and then I have to rely on someone else to drag me out of the doldrums. It's ever so boring. Well, at least Manoj thinks the DBT will only take 16 months instead of four years, how's that for hope? Do you note my sarcasm? If you dom't, I have no idea why you're even readin this, I obviously don't know you ... Anyway, here's to Friday being the new Sunday, any of my ex's can tell you quite what that involves, nightmare.

Can serious intellectual theory provide the key to happiness and personal fulfilment for everyone?

Ummmmm, YES!

Well, at least I hope it bloody well can, as that's the avenue I am pursuing at present. I haven't even read Julian Baggini's article, (I will do once I have finished typing this post), but I must say that I do think it is certainly worth trying to come up with some answers.

As I am embarking on another, probably deeper and longer period of internal questioning and restructuring (DBT anyone?), to be able to ponder on the mysteries of our existence helps to stop me getting so involved in my own pathetic problems and puts things into perspective. Plus, it's actually a damn sight more rewarding than shopping or chocolate at times too; cracking an argument or understanding a theory rather gets the blood going in a way I never expected intellectual pursuit would. The fabulous argument Philipp and I had yesterday over James vs Clifford on the Rationality of Faith being case in point!

So, if you're looking for something a little more enlightening, sobering or interesting, I would certainly give Philosophy a go. Speaking of which, time for me to pack up my books and head on in to school, I have an essay on Faith in the absence of Reason to write!

Please tell me this didn't really happen ...

Last night sitting on my bed after a day at school, I'd had a lovely mini-date/coffee with a friend from class, and was feeling tired but good. Dad comes in to tell me about some TV personality who'd committed suicide, we got to talking about how if I ever felt like that again I had to talk to someone. But I'd only just been thinking about how much easier an out it can be minutes before as I was reading about the guys death, which I told Dad, and how I noticed the guy didn't have a partner too, which at his (also my) age, sometimes doesn't help matters terribly much.

And then Dad preceeded to tell me about he'd only just said to Mum the day before about how lonely I must be, here in Perth, in this house, not being able to talk to them about anything, and how nice it would be if I could meet someone. To which the fear of having to talk to people I don't know returned and I started feeling even worse.

I knew things were bad, but I didn't think it'd ever get so far as to attract my parent's pity. Sheesh, I don't think there's an awful lot lower than that.

Except, there is. When your Dad tells you how you can start conversations iwth engineers and tell them about all the interesting things I've done. Which I told him is all well and good, and I know people are interested in me, but unless there's a apark of something interesting about them that they let slip; their passion, or what makes them tick, then it's just another empty boring soulless conversation that I would rather drink myself to death than have.

So you'll forgive me for being rather depressed today then, won't you? To top it all off, I had awful nightmare this morning which I haven't had for ages - yes, they were about running away from scary things or getting into trouble again, of course! - and so with the all-pervading sense of darkness, I start crying when "Shadows" comes on and I realise how much I miss Age & James and how little I will actually see of them while they're in Perth this weekend. I just pictured Age doing his little dance and I burst into tears.

I miss my male friends, I hate not having them here to talk to. I miss all my firends, and all my girlfriends most especially, but there is nothing like the comfort of being with people who love and understand you and want to go out and get drunk and perve on cute boys and DANCE with you. And Age & I do that so very very well.

Where has all the fucking fun in my life gone?

“We used to feel like dancing and screwing are the two things that we are still allowed to enjoy in life, and… we [want] to make music that [encourages] people to do one of those things or both,” Julian Hamilton, one half of The Presets, said recently.

Friends, today is not a good day. I will hopefully see you all tomorrow.

Where's my crystal ball got to?

As an artist manager, the changes in the music industry over the last 15 years - starting with the internet! - have made it a precarious place for musicians and related administrators to be able to make a living. I was horrified to hear hear of the advent and seemingly across-board implementation of the new wave of artist RAPE by record companies a/k/a the 360 deal, so this lifted my heart a little when I saw it today.

I know that despite all the black and pills and what-have-you I am ever the optimist at heart, and it's that part of me that desperately wants ideas like this to become a plausible way of raising revenue and releasing music for artists. Yes, it would do away with record companies for the most part, but distribution co's could suck up the talented people and those A&R peeps still worth their salt would still be seeking out these bright young things to push towards the venture capitalists. After all, that's really all a label is these days and the major's have been for quite some time, a bank.

I have thousands of dollars/pounds invested in artists that I've worked with in the past, maybe if they have the opportunity to sign this type of deal in the future I could claim my % then? Yes, I know I'm stupid for never collecting my just desserts, but unfortunately I was like the venture capitalist at the time. Maybe one day they'll pay off?

Maybe I should be speaking to people to set up something like this hear in Australia??? Yet again, maybe not as I usually dislike people with money ... just a thought though, hey?

Paris & Nicole?

You can't tell the difference between me and a famous person sometimes, due to my perfected pose. The family hate it, I oft get into trouble for not being serious enough in pictures, but I don't do toothy photos, so instead you get a pose. If it's good enough for Keira, it's good enough for me, I reckon ...

Finally got the VISA essay done, thanks to Deb for her (shouting) words at lunch today, it certainly did help to give me a good kick up the arse which was most required. Onwards and upwards with the rest now I feel. Well, maybe tomorrow then.

My hero ...

What a lovely day out this would be ...

"Alain de Botton is a philosopher committed to the idea of making people happier. That's why - and there should be no paradox in this - he also believes that we should all learn to be extremely pessimistic. He will deliver a sermon designed to focus our minds on the absolute darkness of human experience, from the moment of birth to our last sigh, encompassing adolescence, marriage, childraising and career. He will take us through the thought of the Roman philosopher Seneca, who advised that one rise every morning and run through all the disasters that might befall one before sunset. Alain will challenge the great bourgeois promise that everyone can find happiness in love and work. While this is of course a theoretical possibility, Alain will argue that the chances of anyone succeeding in both areas (let alone in one) are extremely remote - and that it is therefore peculiar, and deeply cruel, to base our societies around these values. Indeed, in denying a place for misery and despair, the modern world denies us the possibility of collective consolation, condemning us instead to solitary feelings of shame and persecution. Come to celebrate the particular joys of pessimism. Handkerchiefs advised."

In contemplation, I should really then be thinking myself thankful for achieving both of these "great bourgeois promises" at various times in my life. It's not been that often when I've found myself despairing of the work I have to do, and there have been loves of sorts over the years to speak of as well. I am lucky enough to have a job I love at present, yet no love except for that of my friends, so on balance, things aren't really so bad after all...

Still haven't finished any of those buggery assignments though, WTF!

Pre- yet post- writings ...

I've been writing on Amanda's blog instead of my own with regards to our ridiculously bad attempts at keeping up with our fabulous new buddy system so that she finishes her book and I get my essays in on time this semester. Here's my comments to her first missed deadline post ...

Oh look, I am such a numpty, I never even wrote any, I just THOUGHT I did ... flipping heck. Maybe it really is time to crack on with it instead of attempting to drag up things that DON'T BLOODY EVEN EXIST!

I wonder if my sub-conscious actually knows which of my thoughts are real or not? I really shouldn't be posing questions like that.

RIGHT! Onwards and upwards with those essays then, I really do have no excuses now.

Study Buddy ...

So, Amanda and I have been CRAP at keeping up to our week 2 deadlines, how badly does that bode for future (non-)achievements? Anyhow, I've been commenting on her blog posts when I figured I really should have been writing my own as well, here's a response to her earlier message today ...

"No police as I'm backed up by a bigger authority ... that of GUILT whereby I haven't finished my essays, which is why you havenae received them either! I have been eating rather a lot of cake and purchasing books @ the UWA book sale instead though, and going slightly mental too. How do they stack up against your excuses?"

OK, so why am I still pissfarting around on Stalkbook and writing blogs when I should be finishing my essays, hmmmm?

And the Procrastinator of the year award goes to ...

Estates

It's been a while, but after viewing La Haine for my European Studies class this afternoon, I feel moved to write.

The director said he wrote the film to raise awareness of the housing estates en Paris. To be 100% behind the people who have to live on the estates, who know they cannot escape. To be able to film there, they are living in one of the flats, in amongst the other estate tenants. But they maintain they have to lie low during the filming as they're a bunch of middle-class filmmakers and appreciate that people do actually have to live there, and can't escape that existence. Similar estates exist all around Europe and I've seen them in Melbourne as well. They don't really exist here in Perth; I know there are suburbs or pockets of state housing, but when you're not living on top of each as they do in Europe, they don't have the same kind of claustrophobic, desperate, impossible to escape air about them.

I think the film is great, it's an insightful piece of social realism, authentic and true to life. It does have fantastical moments in it, not as many as in Trainspotting which we're also studying, but they are both very real representations of the problems and issues that people living on housing estates are confronted with on a daily basis. In class last week whilst discussing Trainspotting, I volunteered that life on housing estates really is as bad and bleak for people as it is dramatised in the film. My tutor questioned this, I suppose he and most of the rest of the class find it impossible to conceive of people even living in places like that, let alone feeling as disaffected and disconnected as the youths do. But I've lived in these places. I've been poor, living on benefits in the UK, waiting for housing loans to come through so that we didn't have to sleep on a battered, stained single mattress on the broken-tiled floor of the 19th story council flat above London, which had no furnishings, carpet or blinds and the walls were a mix of revolting old wallpaper designs that were ripped back in most places. Thankfully there was hot water, heating and electricity, but no fridge or shower and a bath that took about half-an-hour to fill as there is no water pressure that high up in the sky. People would commit suicide off the sides of the towers, ours was but one of six, and there wer often syringes to be found around the grounds. The lift didn't always work - you try walking 19 flights of stairs with your weekly shop - and people would use them as toilets, many a landing smelt of fish or curry or whatever nationality was chucked in there this week, it truly was "Mile End".

But at the end of La Haine, whilst I was watching the director's commentary, I felt weird. Here I am, sitting in my middle-class parents house critiquing this film, yet his comments of "we had to lie low" insult me. I know he understands "the plight of the estates", being a director the only thing he can do is to make a film about it, and it is an incredibly successful film that has highlighted the issues, yet it all still feels false and hollow somehow. I'm angry that my knowledge of these peoples lives was questioned last week in class, I don't want to have to get up there and tell my life story, but if it wasn't for a bunch of benefit fraud and some nifty shoplifting by my partner whose flat it was, I can't say that I would be back here now able to reflect upon it all. That tower block was the site of my first brush with suicide, the first time I really felt like I didn't want to live. I'd only been in London a year when that happened, I don't think I was even 21. I must have only been on the estate for nine months. Things got an awful ot better, but I can't deny what I felt, as a citizen of that place and how angered I feel now to think of people dismissing my knowledge and my experiences.

It's not something I've ever really talked about a lot though, I don't know if I really want to talk about it much. But I just want it to be recognised, that I've done it hard, that I know what it's like to struggle and fight and not be heard or listened to. Nothing like what most people have, but I can tell you how incredibly removed it was from my middle-class existence of only a year prior.

And I think that all people who live on estates want is for the the source of their Hate to be removed. To have their feelings and struggles recognised, to be listened to, to be provided with opportunity, knowledge and understanding. And most of all, to be treated with respect, trust, civility and fairness.

I don't know why I'm so angry about this really, but writing helps to get it out. Time to go and cook a very middle-class curry instead ... oh, the guilt.

More reading ...

Here's a lovely paragraph I stumbled across, from my usual weblinkings through the world of The Guardian:-

The idea that marriage is a settling into long-term cosiness is bizarre. A succession of short relationships allows you to coast. Staying with one person doesn't (or shouldn't). A vibrant 70-year-old I interviewed recently in New York told me that whenever she and her husband of 40 years felt tempted to have an affair, they'd come back, sit down with each other, and work out what frustrations had bubbled up in their relationship that they were trying to resolve elsewhere, and how they could deal with them. Nothing cosy there, only a constant evolving.

That's the kind of relationship I want. Hello Universe, are you listening????

Can someone pay for my flights to London please?

I need to go to this ...

Love Course

PLEASE?

i am so angry i cannot think of a suitable title

I am going ever-so-slightly f***ing crazy attempting to wipe the cache of my CrackBerry and sync it with my Mac, so during this incredibly frustrating task which seems to be taking at least 10 times longer than it should, I thought I would peruse the newspaper online, as I'd received my latest SundayHerald update email this morning ...

Bad move. I should have known it really.

There's all the Gordon Broon/nu-Labour backstabbing news with even more Tory general election leanings and legitimacy after the incredible defeat at the Glasgow East by-election served up from the SNP. Worrisome, but not fearsome. I go to read all my usual articles, Roddy's entertaining and informative column which helps me keep tabs on Ailidh sometimes, Fiona Gibson's silly parenting antics and Tom Shields' usual buffoonery. Except this time, Shields has something quite insiduous to divulge and I can't quite believe what I am reading ...

Expect a mutiny on any bounty scheme for the unemployed

I understand why governments do this kind of thing. I know I am on a similar scheme at present, but I also know that it is actually HELPING me and encouraging me to learn, work part-time and deal with my issues so that I can eventually go back to proper full-time work, doing something I love and enjoy and feel like getting up in the morning for.

If I was having to do "community service" to earn my unemployment/sickness/disabilty benefits or whatever you want to call them, then I think I'd be back on the edge of the precipice again. I'd feel even more worthless and alone, cast-out once more by the "system" and hated by "the man" for not conforming to their ideal of how people should live in this awful consumerist, capitalist bent we seem to be STILL encouraging citizens to strive towards.

"Mr Purnell believes nobody has a right to benefits." WHAT THE FUCK?? I can't even be bothered to censor that because it makes me so incredibly angry. Every citizen of every country deserves to the right to claim benefits for when they are unable to provide for themselves. That's what being a citizen is all about, right? Contributing when one can and receiving help when one needs it? That's the point of a society? Of a community? Or humanity? If it's not, then I'm sorry, but I don't want to play. But then you all knew that really, didn't you ...

Or am I really deluded in my so-called-idealistic fantasies as to how the world should be run?

My eyes have been opened an awful lot in the past year about benefits, unemployment, illness and how it differs between countries and peoples opinions towards benefits, both good and bad. I have a shiteload more I could say about all of this, but I just give thanks that I live in a country that can support me whilst I'm not doing so well. But what beggars belief, what I truly cannot accept, is that the very place that opened my eyes to the inequalities in the world and let me vote for a Socialist alternative is now going to allow this most despicable of acts to happen, to - for the most part - people who have no alternative to help themselve; no jobs, no prospects, no encouragment and no hope. I am beyond embarrassed that I was swept up in the '97 Tory revolt and actually voted for nu-Labour. It sickens me to the pit of my stomach. I didn't think GB could do this, I thought he would say no, he's fucking SCOTTISH for christsakes, he of ALL people should know better!?!

For those of you that have never heard of it before, please read about the concept of a Citizens Income. That's a UK site, here's a link for QUT's concept of a Basic Income for Australian citizens.

I encourage all thoughts and responses, I think it's something we should all be talking an awful lot more about. It especially concerns me when I realise the amount of friends I have, who have to take mental health days or breaks or years to recover from illness or stress, and how many of them are in the arts sectors where they can't rely on pensions, profits, parents or investment properties to help them recover from such "setbacks". Myself included.

Now I have no energy to continue with figuring out this fricking annoying phone bollocks. Seems a bit irrelevant just now anyways...

Something everyone should read

We have a drinking problem, and it makes oil seem cheap.
"It is an astonishing kind of stupidity that sees us duped into paying for bottles of water - stuff that flows free out of taps."

Can everyone who reads this article PLEASE vow to cut the number of bottles of water you buy? or soft drink, or cans or whatever? Use what's in the tap, or buy a filter if you can't deal with the tap stuff.

Self-sabotage has supposedly ended ...

... yet why am I still up working and I still don't have a finished essay to hand in tomorrow?

I don't understand, it's like I fess up and "own" it, then all the fear goes and I don't bother anymore.

Fuck I'm lonely, and well sick of the nonsense in my mind tonight.

Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting ...

Two problems

One is my heart, there's not really an awful lot that can be done about that just now. Needless to say, it's kind of driving me ever-so-slightly insane and I wish there was a cure for time, or insanity, or daydreaming, or distance, or any of the things that seem to be preventing me from being able to dull the ache. Will-power would be useful too, any quick fixes out there for that one? I think common sense, beauty and intelligence are completely over-rated; if it could be bottled and sold, will-power is what I'd be investing in big time.

I suppose that links me neatly on to dilemma number two. I'd much rather keep thinking about dilemma number one though, as there is a nice happy ending to that. Actually, that's a lie - what a surprise. There's a fictional fantasy escape land where dilemma number one can be solved in a myriad of ways, much like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. Happy endings galore. Serious avoidance going on again, my goodness, I know I can lie to myself most of the time, but that blatant fake out was just pathetic. It's obvious I don't really want to write about this now. I was in the mood earlier, started whilst I was waiting for Liv to call so I could go pick her up, but it seems the overriding guilty need to out myself has faded. I just need some help. I need some practical help, but I'm not really sure where to turn for it. I think I actually know the answer to that question, but (typically) that thought spirals off into a seemingly endless dull existence, so I'm not so keen to pursue that particular outcome. It's not a particularly nice problem/dilemma really. Needs a little bit of owning up to. And a hefty whack of soul searching to try and find out why. That's what I'm semi-scared, the why. Actually, the why is OK, it's the then dealing with the why, side-stepping it's stupidness - because it most like will be pathetically stupid - and then starting afresh. If I could banish such thoughts and be "normal" then it would all be fine.

Maybe the dull existence is what is really called for after all? If I could have the dull existence with dilemma number one solved, maybe that would be OK? Not likely, I need a *balanced* existence, remember!

This is rubbish, I'm going to just go daydream instead ...

Meme me: 6 things about me

I've done this for email before and sent it out to friends, but never on a blog! Thanks to Amanda for tagging me, I'm always happy to write about myself, so here goes ...

I have to answer 6 questions about myself. At the end of the post, I then tag 6 people and post their names, then go to their blogs and leave them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read my blog. Then, I must let the person who tagged me know when I’ve posted my answers.

#1: 6 places I have lived

1. Victoria Street, Kalgoorlie (1979/80 - 1982): Hard to believe that this incredibly urban girl could have EVER managed in the "outback", but yes, I did three years service from the ages of 5 - 8. I hardly remember much, except for the red dirt and my incredible imagination expanding beyond all capabilities. Actually, compared to the Greenwood years, I actually remember an awful lot: the fairies under the tree in the front garden, rolling across the above-ground swimming pool cover (which was out-of-bounds of course) and falling in one winter, sucking condensed milk from the tube in Dad's dilly bag in the shed, having my first sister - Miss Kitty, the cat who adopted us, making up the "soap" story about condensed milk, the bloody handprint in Kerry's Dad's ambulance bay, playing maths games on Dad's computer at work, the swingset. My favourite photo of all time is out the front of this house, I will have to scan it in one day. It's of Paul and I in matching yellow waterproofs in the rain holding hands. I reckon he would have been three ... super cute.

2. Sholl Avenue, North Beach, Perth WA (1985 - 1995, 2007 - 2008): Aaah, I used to love this place; then I hated it, missed it, hated it and now tolerate it. It will never be home. The sea used to be welcoming, now I'm afraid of it. My room used to be my sanctuary, now it has demons in it. Paul's room is now safe, I don't mind being here so much, there are worse places to be. I don't like suburbia though, and Sholl Ave is the best example of middle-class middle-aged surburbia I can imagine.

3. Bakersfield, Holloway Prison, Tufnell Park, London N7 (1996): No joke, I lived on the prison grounds. For about six months. It was an old prison warders council flat, across three levels, different rooms on every level, and a disco toilet downstairs. My first proper UK residence (after over two months in the bed-bug ridden hostel in Earls Court), Cath, Sue, Daniel & I eked our existence in this bizarro space. I had the top floor, with my window looking out over the ex-prison grounds and onto the expanse of Tufnell Park, which wasn't terribly flash back in those days. It was far better than Holloway though, which I know became super cool about seven years ago, but back then it was well dodgy. N7 wasn't quite the NW5 postcode I was looking for, but it wasn't far off, and the bus ride down Camden Road to the zoo was pretty short. I remember Cath's massive posters from Our Price decorating the kitchen walls, Jarvis was our hero and he presided over everywhere.

4. Fraser House, Green Dragon Lane, Brentford, MIDDX, England (1996 - 1999): The London years. So much to say, I have no idea where to start. The last place in the world I could ever imagine existed let alone that I would live there, would be the nineteenth floor of a tower block overlooking the M4 and the north-west of London. Sharing a single mattress on the lino floor, living like jakey's with no refridgerator, carpet, curtains or furniture. My first real home though, David and I made it cosy and liveable, however guests, pigeons, jealousy, the band and maturity fucked all that up. I still have a load of fond memories though - the night with Alan, Tag (or was it Keith?) almost falling asleep in the flower bed, rude scrabble with Susannah, talking to Shelbs on the phone in the hall, sleeping on Karl's mattress after David & I had broken up, the divorce settlement consisting mostly of LP's.

5. Oakfield Avenue & Battlefield Gardens, Glasgow G12 & G42, Scotland (2000 - 2003): The Stephen years - lets get a house, House? Freezing nights in G12, awful fights in G42, but lots and lots of cooking, learning and discovering the person I wanted to become. I don't think it had a lot to do with the homes, more to do with the boyf, but still. In G12: Roots and Fruits around the corner!, the night we listened to Billy Connolly when I almost wet myself, the day Mum called to say Aunty Sue died, baking bread, pretending to study in the tiny freezing front room, Mark coming to stay for what seemed like ever! In G42: drunken nights with the Robbos and me screaming at Gem that she couldnae sing, the massive mexicana meals, fisticuffs in the hallway, baths after football, the forbidden emails. Good and bad times.

6. Flat 2/2, 1094 Cathcart Road G42, Scotland (2003 - 2006): MY HOME. The beautiful magnificent flat that I bought all on my own. I can't say enough wonderful things about this place, there are photos and memories galore of the happy happy times there. Yes, I know I also got sick there too, but it was mine, all mine, every single little square inch of it. My 28th birthday party with the Australian theme, the matching silver "whitegoods" in the kitchen, Simon and I staying up til ridiculous hours trying to paint the front room for M&D's impending arrival in the freezing December cold, the massive hall that felt like a ballroom, my days curled up in the cocoon on the couch in front of the TV unable to move, sloping floors and skewed walls, my bag wall in the bedroom, buying a drill to hang wooden blinds in the spare room and coming across all the different colours of paint layered under the window frames, AiH staying the night and having enough pillows for ALL of them! A special magical place, that'll be my Faraway Tree forever, I think?

#2: What was I doing 10 years ago?

July 1998? I was happily ensconced as the Girl Friday @ Jeepster in Kensal Rise, seemingly preparing for the release of TBWTAS (I had to go consult the B&S site to check that!) David & I were going strong, Shelbs was in Brum (I think?), Sinister was up and running and we'd had the very first London picnic. I can't check much else of what I was doing as Sinister is down and that's the only true archive I have of where and what I was saying/doing, how sad is that! It seems like my life revolved around the band, I was planning a trip home to Perth for that Christmas with David and I had a lot of friends and fun.

#3: 5 things on my to-do list today

Bugger, today's almost over. Can I do 5 things for tomorrow instead?

1. Ring Nanna to confirm I can do her washing on Monday and figure out what time to collect it.
2. NOT forget to tape Doctor Who!!!
3. Write on Sian & Stephen's engagement card and take it with me.
4. Make + take my lunch for the meditation day tomorrow.
5. Get back to Amanda about next Sunday and plan the rest of my social calender for the week.

#4: Snacks I like to eat

1. Biscuits - any kind, they are my problem food though and I will eat a PACKET in a go if given the opportunity or I come across the extreme laziness that prevents me from cooking.
2. Chocolate - should be dark, non-dairy, 70%+ cocoa solids, yet Dairy Milk often works too. That reminds me, I have a wrapper for a free Snickers in my bag that needs to be cashed in!

I'm not really a snack person it seems, I will eat anything you put in front of me (as long as there is no meat in it) but I would rather have a meal than a snack. Is that weird?

#5: If I was a billionaire

I would have very very very happy friends! Every so often I daydream of winning the lottery, never do I get to be a billionaire though, that just seems a ridiculous amount to envisage! As long as I could buy a flat in whatever city I wanted to live in (would be Melbourne at the moment), my friends, the bands I've worked for & various mental health, animal & green/socially responsible charities/organisations would get the bulk of the rest. Actually, I'd also try and promote the Arts and the teaching of Philosophy in schools somehow as well. I'd spend my days much as I do now, studying Philosophy and instead of working, I'd be learning Spanish, bass guitar and how to draw/paint as well. I'd buy all of Claude Maus' womens collections in size 8/S when they come out. There'd be lots and lots and lots of (mostly overseas) travelling as well, little jaunts here and there, with many friends as companions to make up for all the time I've had to spend travelling on my own.

#6: 6 bloggers to go to next

changesustain: My best friend Jen is changing her lifestyle in many ways, and this is her blog of the various thought processes that go into some of her & Tom's decisions. She might be far away, but I feel like I'm inside her mind as I read her ponderings, which I love.

Langought: James' semi-photoblog has wonderful little snippets of inspiration and thought that make me wonder what the hell he did that day to provoke them!

Age's Design Blog: I think Age needs to post more, maybe this will be an inspiration? I wanna see your stuff on your blog too, Age!

Hello Mum!: I've often told other friends who write about Lucy's books and blog, but I've never linked to her, so enjoy!

celestronica™ : Celeste's a new friend who's autobiographical posts make me feel like I'm not the only person in the world with a whole lot of crazy in their head who needs to spill it online. A kindred spirit across the miles.

Handful of Marbles: I have no idea what the significance of the title of Richard's blog is, but his travel posts are insightful and absolutely hilarious. I miss his wonderful Northern sense of humour.

That only took me two hours, sheesh! BEDTIME as there is meditation to be learned and practised tomorrow. Except I really fancy watching an episode of Torchwood just now. Oh, the dilemmas ...

Moblogging?

Doctor's surgeries are kind of awful places. I'm an idiot for attempting to read about quantum physics in the waiting room, but it's the book I'm on just now, so what else to do? Constant mental interruptions by complaining old people, infants, rubbish TV news and the good old general public at large. Oh, for the peace of mind that will descend tomorrow, 24 hours to go! The more I read about the global downturn, the more I think I may have got out of the UK at the right time. Marksies share price down 25% overnight? That's pretty huge. I do want to go back to live in London and do post-grad @ Oxford, but if it takes three to four years to get there, I think that should probably be about right, hopefully we'll be on the upswing by then. Whether other people can wait that long remains to be seen, however that's my fantasy-land talking again and I have no way of even pretending it is a plausible possibility! Och well, one can only hope, I suppose ...

Speaking of hope, I sent it out to the Universe to sort out this morning. Anyone driving past me as I was yapping away to the heaven's would have hopefully assumed I had some sort of fancy hands-free gadget nonsense in operation and that I wasn't just talking to myself. Little do they know! Anyway, it's out there to be figured out and I have the confidence in it being done so. I know I wrote in Melbs that the Universe is a more East than West coast thing, however Cynthia has reignited the West coast cheer squad, reminding me of the *power!* so I have enabled it, hopefully :)

I think I'm going to be waiting here forever. Back to the origins of the Universe then I suppose?

the last for today

The earlier stalking proved extremely amusing as I stumbled across a load of Melbourne friends' Friendster profiles. The LJ's (of course!), Ben, Timesy, Mitchell and a whole host of others spilled forth from Guy's profile. So funny, so nice to see all the lovely things they wrote about each other back when testimonials were all the rage. Made me miss Melbourne even more, but then I miss all my friends across the world all the time I suppose, what's the difference really? If only they could all be in the one place ... I'm not even convinced I know where that would be best anymore? London? Melbourne? Maybe I'll just choose somewhere completely new that my sweetheart and I would love - Barcelona? Roma? Berlinn? - and stay there. That's if I can find a sweetheart first ...

Stalking

Being one of my favourite pastimes, I spend far too much time using the internet as a tool to obtain information about things, it almost always leads to what could possibly be termed "stalking" if one were to wiki the actual definition of the word. Which I won't do right now, as I believe that by not having that piece of knowledge, I can safely continue what I am doing not knowing whether it is or isn't, by definition, stalking. Isn't ignorance wonderful?

(Oh, and by the way, I think the word I was looking for yesterday was premature ...)

So, I went to find my old Friendster profile. Friendster is what Facebook was before Myspace was invented. Does that make sense? Friendster -> Myspace -> Facebook. And of course being the virtual slapper that I am, I had/have all three. I'm sure there's tonnes more like bebo and what have you, but these are the ones I have fallen victim to. I t would be rather amusing to count up ALL the hours I have spent on these flipping social networking sites, I'm thinking that since I started my first profile in 2003 that there could be months of my life wasted/utilised (depends on your perspective) in these virtual existences. Amazing things have come from having them, friendships rekindled, relationships approached, information obtained. Awful things too as well though, mainly stemming from jealousy and stalking. Even though I hardly ever use it anymore as I'm always logged in under the bands Myspace, I updated mine the other day and I am kind of regretting it now. As I look back at my Friendster one - which I think was last updated after I moved to Melbourne, so maybe late 2006 - it's funny to see how I view the world at that set moment in time. Compare that to my other profiles and there is a distinct progression. Still, lots of the friends are the same and their beautiful comments are still there even though it's not always known who they are from as some people delete their profiles. I'm going to go stoke my own ego now and read all the comments and see if I still have secret messages in my inboxes! Hey, at least I never got into Second Life ...

Where was i?

Oh that's right, I was going to write about some articles I've read today. However, I am going to dash off to check flights east for during my study break ... back shortly! $449 for 11th through to 22nd in Melbs. Or Perth ->Melbs -> Canberra -> Perth for $642. Maybe I should wait until I get back from this next trip before I plan my one afterwards, otherwise I'm being a little M&D about it! Plus, I don't really know what I would be going for as the band will be away, other than to visit peeps, so again, probably slightly immature? Impromptu? Improved? Geez, I hate it when my brain does this ... it's on the tip of my tongue. I still can't think of the word, but I'm sure a) you know what I mean and b) it will come to me at some ill-advised point whilst typing the next lot of nonsense.

OK, I've realised I've expended all my literaryness already this evening and I shan't be pondering on those articles. Best laid plans blah blah blah. So instead, here's the links again, you go read them and tell me what you think...

IMF finally knocks on Uncle Sam's door - here's hoping the American financial system gets its vastly overdue comeuppance. This article deserves an award, the writing is excellent, should be how ALL investigative reports are written.

Confidence plummets as Europe catches America's cold - very interesting investigation as to how the US downturn is affecting not only the UK but Europe as well. I wasn't very familiar with the economic situation in most EU countries, this article includes a brief history. I had no idea home ownership in Germany was so low, to be honest, that's probably a good thing, I think?

The apparent backlash against feminism - despite its somewhat rosy tone at the end, this article is a mostly astonishing account of just how many obstacles there are for equality between the genders. The point it makes about how society seems to be celebrating pregnancy as the rightful duty of a woman is gruesomely true. I can't say I agree with the end sentiment, it tricked me into forgetting everything I had previously read in the article. Prepare to be cross, especially you Jen if you read it.

Time for resting I think?

Can someone tell me the difference please?

Between a 15-year old boy wearing Roberts Smith-style makeup and going out in public with his mate similarly attired AND a 17-year old girl getting her ears pierced more than once in each ear?

What's worse?

What would you think would be ACCEPTABLE?

I still find it amusing that the former is a now considered a funny tale about their kooky (yet wholly normal) son, whereas the latter was dealt with threats of being thrown out of home.

Once again, am I overreacting people? Surely not ...

I'm able to write again!

I just said to a friend on the phone how nice it was to finally have the brain space to be able to write again, after the past seemingly endless yet probably only six weeks of chaos and craziness. Yesterday I feel I finally had the freedom and clarity of thought that allows me to actually properly think and comprehend without that nervous twitching that has been all-pervasive recently. I feel somewhat calm and at peace with my mind. It's a very nice feeling. I know I still have a bucketful of things to do, one which shan't be mentioned but is very much likely to affect "the 2008 plan" quite adversely. Hopefully I will get around to it later on tonight.

In the meantime, I've found three articles I wanted to blog on, but I just remembered another thing I've been pondering today so I will address that first ...

I realised that I cooked for FUN for the first time in months! I had my first creative cooking thought yesterday whilst in IGA - Scotch baps, anyone fancy a fried egg and tatty scone roll? - and today I acted on it; yet berry & choc-chip muffins were the result. And bloody nice they are too. These people who don't like berries because they are too tart are just plain stupid if you ask me.

Leading on from the food thing, I experienced an interesting thought process today when Mum told me about the cuttlefish she saw in the pool this afternoon. I'm sure it was a cuttlefish that Stephen and I were communicating with at some aquarium we went to in 2003, I think it was Singapore, but could very well have been Melbourne or Sydney or even Perth perhaps? I now recall how incredibly intelligent this creature was, waving back at us and swimming up and down in its tank. If cuttlefish aren't terribly different to squid, which I don't think they are, then how can I truly accept eating squid? And I already know how intelligent octupi are, yet the fact that they scare me to buggery is enough for me to consider eating them. Don't know if I could truly bring myself to kill one though. Removing it from the water is easy, but giving it a good bash is probably that step too far.

If you're having trouble following this train of thought, my semi-vegetarianism/vegaquarianism/pescaterianism stems from the motto that "I wouldn't eat anything I'm not prepared to kill". So, all animals and birds are off-menu, yet many sea creatures - fish, crabs, prawns, squid, shark etc. - are all allowable as they either "don't have brains" (an old quote from a probably-not-anymore friend who was justifying his cooking fish whilst he claimed vegetarianism) or I would quite happily remove them from their habitat, which in effect kills them, in order to consume them. Silly I suppose, but it has sustained me being both semi-vegetarian and (mostly) healthy for the last eight-and-a-half years (exactly, today!), so I've been sticking with it. Except I've now had four encounters that have started me thinking otherwise, that cutting out the aqua-life might be necessary too? The cuttlefish story from before is the third. Last week there was lamb (I just wrote meat but even that looks disgusting, such is my persuasion at present) defrosting on the side all bloody and revolting, made my stomach turn. Then I was having a conversation with Dad last night about fishing - which despite saying I would be happy to do, I have not done since I became this vegaquarian hybrid thingo - and I accepted I would have a lot of problems with bashing the fish in order to kill it after I'd reeled it in. Then we have the cuttlefish and as I went into the kitchen just before there was red meat being cut up to be stuffed inside pasties. Again, it turned my stomach. I'm not sure how to progress on this one, like I said to Mum, it seems that there's something encouraging me to step further away from consuming animal products. So, I have just decided to say no to shark and squid for now. Crusteaceans and fish are still fair game, not sure where that places an eel? Surely that's got to be more fish than anything else? Not that I eat eel anyway, but Dan's recommendation the other week made me curious. I wonder how long it will take for this position to be revised again? Probably not another 8+ years, I'm sure. I always thought I'd never make the move towards veganism, I'm sure I will never end up vegan, but I can certainly imagine being a proper practising vegetarian and mostly eschewing dairy & eggs too. One day. Maybe that's all part of the philosophical pursuit, as Plato termed it?

Flip, you'd think I hadn't written for months! Funny that ... Quickly on to those articles as Cynthia has arrived and I must surely become sociable.

Firstly, IMF finally knocks on Uncle Sam's door

Actually, I'm not going to get a chance to expand on these now, will have to do so later instead ...

just quickly

Aaah, ten million things to write about and never enough time. I promised I'd make breakfast in the morning too, I never said I'd get up in time for *their* breakfast (and seeing it's past 2.15 now it's highly unlikely that I actually will be up), but I should at least try and make an effort I suppose. If only I knew somewhere to get potato scones, the fried egg & tatty scone baps with brown sauce would be perfect. They'll just have to be double eggy with a strip or two of fakin' bacon instead.

I managed through another day without driving myself insane thinking in circles, not quite sure how it happened, but I did, thankfully. Discovering that In Flagranti are DJing @ Revolver the same night that Van She are @ The Prince whilst I'm in Melbourne wasn't too helpful though. Neither was the thought a couple of hours ago that I should actually ask him whether he'd like to come with me to see In Flagranti... I think I'll have to ponder on that one for a bit, perhaps I'll have an answer in the morning. Then I'm sure once I decide whether to ask or not, I'll dilemma over just when I should ask. Not that I'm crazy or anything.

To tired to write any more, I've had lots of space and clarity today, it's been an extremely welcome change.

Testing?

Trying to blog from Crack, will it work? Should I really enable it? Could be dangerous...

EDIT: Oh aye it worked alright. If I could only fig how to remove the sig that would make it better. Anyway, never again will I have to type shit out and never post it, hodden as it is in the depths of my inbox. Could be interesting ...

blogshite

So, why does a random boy who kisses my ear because he bumped into me on his way past make me want to cry? This ain't fair. How long am I supposed to wait for a response to an email? Two days? A week? Both are probably far too long. I could pretend that there was a *better* email address I could have sent it to, I could complain that I shouldn't have waited so long to send it in the first place, I could say all sorts of things to delude myself that its not that "he's just not that into me" ... But I haven't woken up to that yet. I don't want to. But I suppose I will have to. However, its now time to dance. Fuck all that shite. Surely I'm worth more?

Dearest Geraldine

I am in a night of hell in Brisbane - Cutters afterparty gone wrong, so many bogans! - and we have to do it all over again tomorrow night in Sydney... That'll be better though, I hope. Gah.

I didn't see Ben in the end, I was all waiting for his call and he never turned up at the party. Turns out a good friend of his' brother died suddenly that night and he was caught up in that. So I was all waiting for my date to turn up, dancing with my friends and just chatting to people I knew. It was fun, I was super tired - had caught the red eye over that AM - but I ended up talking to this boy for a long time who I kinda know. He's - surprise surprise - in a band and I've always thought he was gorgeous, but he was taken. Except he's not anymore, so I did the last thing I expected to do that night and ended up going back to his, where he couldn't have been sweeter or more lovely. So I fall for him - of course - and then when I try and make arrangements to see him later in the week, he's all busy. And I come back to Perth all sad cos I thought he was lovely and I decide I'm going back to Melb for another week during my holidays. So, I email to tell him that, and 48hours later still nothing :( It was a nice confidence boost, but I would never have gone back to his - usually - if I thought it was just a one night thing. Sorry to dump all that on you! I was too busy to call Ben again, I probably was quite silly in not messaging him to say goodbye. I owe him an email I suppose.

I've decided that I really have to try and move back to Melb at the end of this semester. I can't ever have the type of life I want in Perth, I don't know enough people to go out with, everyone is taken. I was out in Melbourne for three hours and I'd talked to a bunch of handsome single guys. So miserable!

Right, I gotta go make sure that Dan + Ben are actually DJing still and not off chasing girlies. Single boys, who'd look after 'em!

Miss you, have a fabulous rest of your trip and I look forward to seeing you when we're both "home" in Perth.

Am I the most ungrateful biatch in the world?

Fessing up time: following on from my "10 things I'd like" post, this additional one is what I really want, but didn't think I should post ...

Oops, too late now. All I can say is, just gorgeous, in that swoony kinda dreamy way ... hmmm.

Moving on to the title of this post, I came home to a box shaped article in my doorway. Not remembering that I'd ordered anything of said shape recently - I do sometimes forget - I realised that mother had been shopping and has bought a duvet cover for the duvet she bought about three weeks for my bed. I had told myself I would go and pick my very own special duvet up from my other little home in Abbotsford whilst in Melbourne last week, but I was too busy counting t-shirts instead. I don't know if I really have the time, patience or ability to type for that long, but it goes without saying that my bed and my duvet/bedding are a couple of my most favourite things in the world. The year I bought the flat and all the associated furniture pretty much culminated with the purchase and delivery of the most comfortable thing I have ever had the pleasure of sleeping in. It is my sanctuary. And, when I was purchasing bedding, I flew in the face of 8 years of variously toned striped blue hues and went for something that I wanted and loved, as I no longer had to please anyone other than myself. So, it ended up being a dusty kinda dark pink, which I find incredibly romantic, seductive, warm, cosy and beautiful. Ooh I found a picture ... (please excuse the Eagles Bear)


Can you see where this is heading?

Anyways, I've only been back in Perth for a year now, making do with various tripled-up blankets, an eiderdown/coverlet/piece of rubbish, a beautiful deep red covered single duvet generously donated by Amanda and when I found it at Jen's in February, my lovely snuggly pinkish throw that I had for when I first moved to Melbourne and it was freezing in Glenlyon Road. Safe to say, this bed is not my sanctuary, its just a "make do" kind of a vaguely comfortable place where I spend most of my time whilst in the house. As I can't be in my old room - too long a story to go into, most would understand and empathise, close relatives wouldn't - I reside in my brother's room which is painted a very boy-like cold blue. When I convinced Mother to purchase curtains, at least we got navy ones, so that adds some depth to the chill. However, I now have to remove all semblance of warmth as, of course, the new duvet is ...

DRUM ROLL!!!!

... blue stripes of various sizes and tones... I really don't know why I didn't contemplate that this would happen. I won't dream of mentioning it, there's far too many raised eyebrows at any movement withing this house for my liking, I feel no need to add to them just now.

So, therein lies another dilemma ... do I persist in creating excuses for *having* to go back to Melbourne in my month long holidays by adding the need for warmth and colour in my life by rescuing my duvet, despite the fact that there kind of already is one here (NOW!) that I can use? Furthermore, do I purchase the acoustic bass that can *only* be picked up from Melbourne? Do I decide that I simply *must* go and take a look around Melbourne Uni before I contemplate contacting them about their fabulous Philosophy units? Do I follow Karys' advice and book the trip, knowing full well that all these extra things are just nice little add-on excuses? I could fool myself into thinking that it's not the main reason ...

... but then I know I'd be lying too. Meh. Decisions, decisions ...

NO LIGHTS ...

Sheesh, red wine on the plane, what am I thinking? Things are getting desperate, or rather, back to normal? I'm not quite sure which it is, could be either really. Not that it matters, no-one else is keeping count, or tally, or whatever other word you'd like to call it ... Thanks for the mix Dan, this should keep me entertained for a wee while at least.

What was I going to write about? Things to be done I suppose, desires that are still wanting. What clarity has this morning provided? Not much more than from last night, however there are a few more friendly faces around town to make me feel welcome. Age is right though, I should make a list of the things I want to do, I'm not so sure about keeping it private, I don't really care what anyone else thinks, I just need to have it somehow I know I can refer to it, not hidden away where I'll never reflect on it. Let's see if I can get it to 10 just now ...

1. Learn Spanish - to no particular extent, just to start and to continue doing so if possible.
2. Purchase the acoustic bass that I've always been on about, and teach myself how to play.
3. Become a TM proper - I could amend this to being: go on tour overseas with a band I love, either or would do. However from the "Dreams" list it would be fabulous to be able to make it into a proper job.
4. Own a cat - doesn't go terribly well with the overseas TM job, but y'know, I'm trying to come up with 10 things here!
5. Learn to DJ - either that or just find a program where I can mix tracks into one another so I can do it at home. I doubt I'd be terribly good at it, I'd just still really like to do it.
6. Write more - blogs, stream of consciousness, diary, fiction, lyrics, prose, whatever. I should keep more of what I think, mostly so that I don't let it destroy my mind, but also just for, because I always said I couldn't.
7. Cook one new thing every week - difficult with the parentals, but necessary. And I could keep a journal of what I make, thereby writing more too.
8. Be more confident - believe in myself more, believe in people wanting to know and talk me. Speak to the people I want to, I need to lose the paralysing fear I have of rejection. Be more like I was on Friday night, I enjoyed the rush of it all, and it paid off handsomely ... oh, did it ever.
9. Move back to Melbourne - again, difficult, yet necessary. End of November looks good, set about making plans to make this happen.
10. Get married - so much easier said than done, but it does need to be acknowledged. There's no point pretending it isn't actually the longest real desire I've had on the list. I'm sending it out there, I want it happen. It ultimately has to be for love but it can start off with a visa/passport thing if necessary. I don't know how I manage to daydream so incredibly far off into the future from just one night, but ... oh, you never know. I don't know how I allow myself to (seemingly) be hurt so badly, yet to still think of the good in it; the possibility is still very very fresh in the air. That's today's perspective anyway, this very minute.

The silly boy is still very much desired. If only ...

OK, I made it to 10, that's an achievement in itself. Post it tonight, see where I go. Review soon, very soon.

I just finished an interview ...

I have done very few in my life (not including the impostering other people ones, oops!) so I thought it might be nice to preserve this. Thanks to Amy Richardson for asking, it's for her fanzine (do they still make these???) "Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams", and for some reason I'm writing about my time @ Jeepster. So, if you'd care to read on ...



1.When did you begin working with Jeepster, how did you get that job?

I think I started for proper in May 1997? There's kind of a pre-amble to that, which I hope you don't mind indulging me in? I'd met B&S when they came in to the record store I worked in before a show they were playing @ The Borderline in November 1996, around the time that "...Sinister" was released. Anyway, I ended up being involved in running their fanclub, which was how I met Mark Jones & Stef D'Andrew @ Jeepster, and they had a guy called Ben who was sort of the office assistant person at the time. I think he decided to go back to college, so Mark needed someone to help him run the London office and I said I'd do it as kinda work experience. I think I started on one day a week, it ended up as a trial thing and then I eventually had a job proper, somehow?!

2.What were your responsibilities at Jeepster?

They started out pretty basic: cups of tea, answering phones, etc. I think after all the time I spent there I ended up doing national and regional TV & radio plugging, national and regional press, A&R, office assistant, PA to Director's, merch girl, Production Manager, Manager, International liason, accounts, royalties, general dogsbody ... you name it I did it. It was a very collaborative kinda place to work, everyone pitched in and helped out as and when necessary.

3.Did you deal with Belle & Sebastian from the beginning of their time there?

Umm, yeah, I suppose I must have done? I knew them already, from having met them in the record store and running the fanclub with David from our flat, so I would have been dealing with Neil and the rest of them as and when necessary. Oh sorry, I've just re-read your question! No, I wasn't working there when they were first signed to the label, I only started after the "Dog On Wheels" EP was released and the first record I worked on was the "Lazy Line Painter Jane" EP. And obviously "If You're Feeling Sinister" had come out before both of them.

4.What was your involvement with the band?

Mostly dealing with Stuart & Neil's requests, I think? And then just label stuff like I mentioned above, like fielding press/radio enquiries, helping organise the webchat we did via the IMC #sinister chat room (that was pretty memorable!), sold merch at the gigs - which was my first experience of going "on tour"; booking accom for tours, listening to test pressings. All sorts of stuff! Obviously I was a lot more involved with B&S when I moved up to Glasgow to work for them proper, but when I was at Jeepster, it was mostly that kind of stuff. Such a long time ago now, its kind of hard to remember!

5.What was the best thing about working at Jeepster?

Fulfilling my long held dream of working in London in the music industry.

6.And the worst?

Realising that despite the fact that everyone should want the same thing, bands and labels are sometimes opposed to the best way to go about achieving said "things", and that if you work for the label, you can't be on the bands side. I suppose I realised that the most important thing in my life, music, was actually a business at the end of the day for everyone, the artists included. That took a little of the shine off it, off my favourite songs saying and meaning so much to me and moving me in ways that I'd never experienced before. But, it was something I think I had to learn, and going from a label to a management position kinda highlighted the paradoxes in a sense. It's certainly not a bad thing to realise, it just came a little later to me than most who work in "the biz". I was very naive though!

7.Do you listen to B&S now ever? Do you have a favourite record of theirs?

No, I don't listen to them anymore. I sometimes think - like I am now typing this - about my favourite B&S songs and how much they've meant to me in the past, but I don't have any on my iPod or computer, and all my music is in storage, so I'd have to go and buy it all if I wanted to! I have really fond memories of every record, and I love that it's kind of impossible to think about the songs pre-DCW without thinking mostly of the album. That was the point, that was what they were trying to achieve and totally did it. Such a great legacy, Stuart is certainly a man of vision and belief in himself and his ways of doing things! I love "Tigermilk", and "The Boy With The Arab Strap". I love the "3..6..9..." EP as well as "...Modern Rock Song". I really love "Legal Man" too. I just don't listen to them anymore.

8.Name your top song, book and film:

Oh gees, do you mean of all time? Only one of each? My goodness, I really don't know if I can! I can't figure out whether I should treat this as a recommendation or a self-explanation? Or just my favourite? I'll have to come back to these! I've decided on most popular, for me at least. So that's most times viewed/read/listened to ...

SONG: Joy Division "Twenty-Four Hours" (I have to listen to it again now, so so so amazing. The slight delay on the snare (I think that's what it is) kills me every time. Sends me into a trance.
BOOK: Enid Blyton "The Folk of the Faraway Tree" This book has inspired me to live the fantasy life I do.
FILM: Grease, I have seen this so very very many times and I love it every time.

Three quick alternatives ... "Heroes" by David Bowie, "Blow Up" with David Hemingway and Kurt Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions".

9. When / why did you stop working at Jeepster?

Couple of reasons, mainly that B&S were looking for someone to run the merch out of their office in Glasgow, and it was a job and move I quite fancied. There are personal reasons involved too, but that's kinda boring. I'd also realised that - kind of like I mentioned before - my loyalties lay more with the bands interests than the label's interests, so having the opportunity to jump to the good ship Banchory, it was a good time for both me and Jeepster to leave. It was August 1999 I think?

10. What are you doing at the moment?

I started a BA this year, I never went to University after school, so I found myself living back in my home town - Perth, WA - and thought I might give it a go. However, the same day I got my acceptance, the international manager of my favourite band in Australia got in contact looking for someone to oversee the Australian stuff! So I find myself studying full time and working part time for Cut Copy http://www.cutcopy.net I'm actually over in Melbourne with them just now, as they're on their national tour promoting their second album and I'm organising all the after parties, amongst other things. LOts of fun, but VERY different to B&S!

11. Do you still keep in touch with any of B&S?

Yeah, it was Stuart & Marisa's wedding last weekend in Glasgow and I would have given my right arm to have been there. I miss them all awfully, I worked for them in Glasgow for nearly seven years, plus the two that I was at Jeepster for, so they're a massive part of my life. I never write anywhere near enough, I don't think anybody really does though. But I sort of keep in touch through other people and method's - like Facebook! B&S became my family, seeing as mine were all on the other side of the world! The Banchory office was a very jolly place to be most of the time, very safe and I was very comfortable in amongst it all. It is a family really, all the touring folk, crew, session musicians, label people, accountants & lawyers and management. We had a really nice little self-contained unit and it was my life. Sad as that may sound!

12. What’s your favourite animal?

Oooh, I dunno? I love all animals. I do love cats a lot, I suppose they could be my favourite? Penguins and otters too. Hairy Coos as well! And I find myself liking dogs a lot more than I used to these days too.

Sheesh, I suppose I better go back and do the song/book/film thing now then!

DEVO!!!

Ahhh, I wish this didn't always end up as a bunch of rambling thoughts, and was an actual coherent structured useful record or narrative for others to read. Still, I think I'll have to do an *awful* lot of free writing to be able to rid myself of the stream of consciousness style I am so accustomed to. I'd love to be able to write other things. I'd really love to be able to write music, if I was being truly honest with myself in my heart of hearts as to what I'd like to do. But, as per usual, there are 10 million blocks I put in place of my being able to. You don't have the right equipment, or time or creativity or whatever. The wee Casio is just not going to cut it I fear!

TANGENT TIME!

Remember that list I wrote of all the things I wanted to buy with my house money when I left Glasgow? I don't think I got any of them except for the bike. No car, no diamonds, no acoustic bass guitar, no scooter. I'm sure there was heaps more ... I don't really need any of those things either, boy do I have enough shite to sink a ship, but I would still like them all. And I would really like to try the guitar ... Do I find that when I do get the right tools, after procrastinating that I can't do such-and-such because of so-and-so, that things actually start to work? I'm not sure, I'm not sure I let/force myself to reflect back on things like that. Maybe I should?

BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND ...

I've sat back wanting others to ask me to be involved for the longest time. Pretty bloody stupid really, if I'm learning anything from this trip, it's to be open to things, and have no expectations. That's crap, if I've learned anything from Friday night it's that nice things happen when you least expect it every so often! There's no universal "this will happen if you think blah blah blah", it's all chance and whatnot, most of it I have no control over. I only have control over how I let it affect me. And that's what this kind of writing helps to do; let those horrid hating angsty feelings out, remove them from my conscious and avail me of mental power to be more proactive in other things.

WHINGE TIME ...

Why is it so easy for all these boys to fall into collaborative projects as they do? What the FUCK are all the girls doing at the same time? I know for sure that some of them do make themselves available, but why do we feel that our projects should be solo projects? Does it come from some sense of having to prove "I can do it myself?" Seems kind of logical as I type it, but I would HATE for that to be the answer? I hope Em find her creative side stimulated beyond her wildest dreams from forging out into new collaborative projects. I don't really know where I can go with my desires for creativity. I'd like to have the encouragement and support of others, no wonder I crave being "part" of something all the time. I'm not brave enough to forge my path on my own ... well, maybe I am actually, but I think it would be more fun having the hands of others to hold and their arms to fall back on and shoulders to cry on when the need arises. And more mouths for drinking copious amounts of alcohol and laughing like crazed goons with when it all goes right and there is celebrating to be done.

I'll find my niche, somehow, someday. I do really like the idea of coming back here for the summer. Finding a sublet, soaking it all up again. Exploring and seeing where I end up. But for now, I think I will just have to accept that I could possibly return before then, and most probably will not.

But I am going to go and see how much it would be to fly over when DEVO are here, as it would be terribly stupid not to, don't you think?

crap from last night ...

So, Em believes I have to put the good vibes out there. Believe I deserve good things to happen to me, so I can encourage them in. People are a lot better with the universe on this side of the country, I wonder why that is? Anyway, regardless of why, I'm putting it out there; I want something beautiful, special, deep, personal, intense, magickal and wonderful. I want it, I deserve it and I hope it happens. I can't wait to meet that person, I hope he's excited about finding me too.



Melbourne takes my breath away with its vibrancy, yet it can also be terribly soulless at times. I'm enjoying being the me I am now here this trip. Things are clearer, I'm more at ease and I have more of a sense of purpose about myself. A confidence in me. Certainly encouraged by various recent others, they do and don't need to know/know who they are. I like the me I am this time, I feel comfortable in it. And it seems to be repaying me in spades too. How fabulous is that? I'm certainly not complaining :)

something i wrote

I feel like I’ve woken up in a dream and here I am in the library, the alien library, the University library, where all around are people I won't ever get to know properly, all seemingly part of my life and existence, yet I can wish them away in a second by focusing on this ridiculously odd path I seem to have found myself in.

How the hell did I choose this?

How the hell did I think this was the right thing to do?

I know I was clutching at straws and that this possibility seemed the least difficult most useful path to take, but is it right? Is it really what I should be doing?

How will I find that out? At what point will the monkey jump up and down and say well done, you can move on to the next level?

I have said I’ve committed to three years, but in my heart of hearts I know that’s bollocks and this may only be a very short stop gap to something else. What that something else will be I have absolutely no idea, I don’t really know if there is a right thing to do next.

I still need help to find those answers, I know its wrong to want someone to help, that I really need to be decide for myself and be happy in those choices because of that, but I find myself yet again wishing that I had the guidance of someone I really trusted, who really knew to help me choose.

I haven’t found that yet. I love all my friends, I love them dearly and I would be lost and gone without them, but still, it shouldn’t be this hard to find someone to help, should it?

Stop looking around, it’s not helping. The only thing to do is focus, focus on what needs doing and do it so you then have clarity to be able to focus again on the next thing, which could possibly be this.

OK?

Somebody

I want somebody to share, share the rest of my life, share my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details. Someone who'll stand by my side and give me support, and in return he'll get my support. He will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in, and life in general. Though my views may be wrong they may even be perverted, he'll hear me out and won' t easily be converted to my way of thinking, in fact he'll often disagree. But at the end of it all he will understand me.

I want somebody who cares for me passionately with every thought and with every breath.
Someone who'll help me see things in a different light, all the things I detest I will almost like. I don't want to be tied to anyones strings, I'm carefully trying to steer clear of those things. But when I'm asleep I want somebody qho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderly. Though things like this make me sick, in a case like this, I'll get away with it.

Oh, Mr Gore, you have an awful lot to answer for. I had a dream where I did have someone like this last night/this morning/whatever you want to call it. I'll now be seeing this person in a different light, he treated me so beautifully. I was quite amazing - to me, cos I can't say I'm actually used to it - just how loving and tender someone could be, and I wonder if he is actually like this in "real life"? (That's such a rubbish saying, real life, anyway) He has a very lucky girlfriend if so. I'll probably get all aflustered the next time I see him, that'll be dead embarrassing. I've not been able to shake the feeling of this dream all day, kind of nice in a way as I feel protected and loved by it, but when my head hits the pillow later on, I'm sure I won't be smiling. Who knows. It'd be lovely to have that dream every night and wake up feeling that way everyday, I'll see if I can encourage that instead.

An economic behaviouralist?

Now, as you know I'm not a big fan of thinking or talking about money. It's just not a priority for me. There always seems to be enough in the bank to do most things, I'm not a terribly extravagant person; unless I have pots of money like I did in Melbourne 2006 post-Glasgow flat sale, and you only have to look at my fabulous wardrobe to see what happened when I *did* have disposable income. So, it's kind of funny that this story caught my eye:-

Meet the economists who know why we buy what we buy

"One of the most exciting areas of research, behavioural economics could overturn many of the assumptions and assertions that shape modern policy-making."

I suppose it means I should really be studying psychology, but all the years of nonsense to get to the "pop" psychology would just drive me (more) nuts, so that ain't going to happen. It fits in quite well with my philosophy studies though, for all the experiments, theorising and calculating that the economists do, the irrationality of human behaviour wins through yet again. It's a silly old-school punk attitude to have, that we've stuck it to the man, but it does give me great pleasure to see individualism win out again.

I always used to think people could be sorted into little wee boxes of societies making, I've tried countless times to try and fit into this one or that one, or deliberately not fit into any (so I thought), yet it doesn't seem to matter anyway, as we're all completely irrational and individual.

Right, off to Uni to try and find myself a behavioural economist!

Should I take this advice?

So instead of reading all the flipping research I have done on the British (lack of) Constitution and Lord Hailsham's "elective dictatorship" claim, I find myself on the Guardian's website this afternoon, on the life&health section. Reading about lots of people's lives and secrets is probably the best form of procrastination one could enjoy and seeing as I have sworn off all gossip magazines etc - except for popbitch - it seemed like an innocent indulgence. And I came across this ...

Trying to work out if someone's interested.

May have to give it one last final proper shot. Whaddya reckon?

The wrong decision? A study in why I haven't had a boyfriend since I returned to Australia

If only that could be my thesis statement, I'm sure I could write 2500 words on that. Plus even. Oh for fucks sake, I've ever started making a mixtape, that's taking this all too fucking far. How black the melancholy can sink, nasty and yet inspiring that it is. D's words are ringing in my ears from Friday night - who says it's wrong, and what EMPIRICAL evidence do you have to prove their conclusions correct? Yes, indeed, I have none ... except that I cannot imagine anyone I know who would not raise an eyebrow were the words to be spoken. It took time then I found you. Bastard. Right, playlist completed, all is good with the world, I'm back in 2004, seemingly in NYC as well, strange that. Not really strange, kinda obvious I suppose. Too many links I could possibly make between now and then, then of mind and actuality. How am I going to remove this sense of unfulfilment (I have no idea how to spell that fucking word) and get back on track again? Study is hard, work is hard, mind is barren on both and seemingly fertile on other topics which aren't particularly much help right now. Nice to think about, daydream about, ponder upon whilst one is on the bus, yet no good whilst attempting flipping philosophical critique. I think I'd rather just read what Freud had to say instead of reading what others said about his writing. it's rather eloquent in parts, and if you can keep a reasoned head upon your shoulders, very logical in part as well. I'm feeling rather candid about the analysis of PA that will occur during tomorrow's tutorial discussion, I'm sure that will probably lead to crazy bag lady ponderings, but to remove the temptation would be quite helpful. Then I'd have to ponder on Freud himself I imagine, and I'm sure the resulting neuroses would be rather more constructive with regards to recovery than an experience which more than likely end in some form of disaster. I sense the danger, yet I still want to run towards it. But it's not a self-destructive notion, I think? Is it just because it's the only available (interesting) option? What's stopping me making noises in other directions, those that I think could be positive? Despite the distance, I truly thought I could be brave enough to put myself forward today, in that particular direction! Well, for all of about two seconds on the bus, I thought I could, I thought, "What's stopping me? What do I really have to lose?" Money and independence I suppose. Surely they'd be regained some other how. But why in that direction when I'm pretty sure there is another option at a similar distance that would more than likely bear fruit? Am I just trying to convince myself that as it could be possible it should be an option? There's none of the symptoms, but the symptoms are kinda misleading at times I suppose. Maybe a little more study as to what the point is would help? The notion of Human Nature. I know mine goes against the grain. I have decided once and for all that "theirs" is not my destiny. So fuck the rules then, if I believe I'm outside the box, then maybe my unorthodox traditions can continue? As long as there are no more collapses I suppose. Oh the highs and lows of typing! Euphoria and nophoria in a one minute span, surely that has to be a record! Should I burn the disc? Can I control my thoughts to not be so random? The only two options I've seen that I'm interested in here are both fraught with difficulty, one legal, one not-so-legal yet probably a far worse stigma attached to it. Unattainability, how can one be attracted solely by that? Surely that's not the answer either? I don't believe I have a death wish, a guiding self-destruct button. I'm drawn to what I'm drawn to, it's generally the same thing I've been drawn to for aeons, that mysteriously handsome creative spark. I should burn it. Except I really do have ulterior motives, and surely, despite the passing of far-too-many-to-count years, the "mixtape" still has certain connotations. Not just certain, actual bloody non-avoidable connotations and consequences. I'd be admitting to that by clicking burn, well, if it ever left my hands, I would be. And, it has songs on it that someone gave to me on a mixtape. In 2004 no less. How's about that for a neat summation?

Oh, the nostalgia!

Still waiting for the London mayoral result, 4.16pm their time and it's still not confirmed that Blondie Boofhead is the new mayor, but it seems to be horrifically leaning that way. Maybe I won't move back to London until there's a new mayor in town ...

Anyway - sorry, Catherine Tate Show is on in the background, seem to be tempted by its awfulness - the Sinister list archives are back and I've been tempted to have a wee delve. Yes, it's horridly narcissistic, but searching for ones early posts is something I'm unable to resist.

As I'm flicking through, I remember the trips off Sinister on to Bowlie and then ILM/ILX at various times as well, all the things said that will just stay out there in the ether for ever it seems. My first post from "our" account. My first post from Jeepster. My first post "as" Jeepster. Then from Glasgow as the shop, as Banchory, as me, as management, as press officer as the band. All the posts that are now lost that were written before Sinister existed. All the fun (and evil) things on Bowlie that will disappear at some point in August. All the people I've been in contact with through these lists, through this band. All my different sig files. My "no capitals" phase. The very officious posts. The overfriendly lovey dovey ones. The crap attempts at being "the" source of information. Finding people years later on Friendster, Myspace and now Facebook. Massive part of my life, I think I could spend hours following the threads and people, but I should really be reading Freud or something else. Anyway, this has to be my favourite personal discovery so far. I'm sure I'll find more some other time, but this amuses me greatly for now.

Bootlegging Tigermilk

no idea

I'm trying to avoid getting too depressed at the English&Welsh council election results, and I can't stop laughing at this:-

Animal Pharm

My fave has to be the Moo-tang Clan, just brilliant.

What happens if Boris really does beat Ken? I don't know why everyone is so anti-Livingstone now - need to brush up on my recent Londinium history - but BoJo? REALLY? Come on people, surely whatever Red Ken has done isn't worth that?

And all anyone in Perth can be bothered with - politically I mean - is a frickin' seat-sniffing numpty ... there are more important things in the world, and surely they can see that? No, of course not, all the media here is so f*cking insular as well. I think this has been my worst "I despise Perth" week since I got back. Maybe that has something to do with the factthat it will be the 1 year anniversary next week and the thought of having to be here for another two and a half years is just far too much to bear in light of recent events?

How am I going to get out of this mess???

Oh, off to the shrink today, maybe I'll see if he has any answers ...

Lastly, I got my first lot of essays back this week. Did OK in Politics, good in European Studies (wish it was better) but outstanding in Philosophy, so that's encouraging. Here's hoping I can pass the Latin test on Monday though. Speaking of, best go do some study.

And then I see this ...

A lifetime of denial

... and I wonder how "they" think that any mental illness at all, and I do mean ANY, is actually possible to get over or recover from?

There's no light at the end of the tunnel today. Triggers? The philosophy tutorial? An extremely brief telephone conversation with an old friend? The London A-Z? All of these and more, I'm sure.

A quick cry and I think it's all OK again. For now ...

Why do I want to do this?

Can someone please give me a good reason as to why I shouldn't post "my story" to the Guardian, as per their "My Story" (more below) column? Desperately needing to reach out and find comfort in people that know me today, feeling like a crazy isolated stranger again and I'm thinking of packing it all in and getting my move on once more... Trying to find solace in the outside world, I know if I could just read my book - how funny, it's a semi-textbook! - I'd get some peace of mind and at least push these thoughts away for a while.

Oh, listen to that, dinner's ready, maybe that will help instead. Gotta love the distractions ...

Anyway, the article I've just read is here. Her story is 10million times worse than mine, but you know, I just want to connect to something. Anything.

Fucking get over yourself House ...

What's that buzzing sound???

Oh yeah, right, that'll be my ears then ... Thanks PNAU! FUCK, that band were LOUD!!! I'll have to remember earplugs for Capitol next time. How the hell are we going to top that for a live show? Thinking caps ahoy ... well, once I can stop wanting to jump around like a crazy bastard and get some sleep and do some study and write some emails and come back down to the real world again. Tea and toast are helping, just ...

Just a quick message this AM, after the positivity of the 2020 summit and calls for all sorts of reforms, good old "white Australia" rears its ancient, racist, zenophobic (is that the correct use of the term?) head to deliver this:-

Immigration concerns

Crazy really, do people think that they can truly have these attitudes forever? I love my bus route to Uni in Perth (one of the few things I do actually like), it's the most multicultural cosmopolitan scene I can imagine. Well, apart from Amanda's school classes I suppose. As it glides past Churchlands ECU, Shenton Park College and UWA, all sorts of students from all over the world hop on and off to go and learn, and you can pretty much tell which campus they are attending when they get on the bus. The best bit is picking up at Churchlands ECU in the evenings, that's when I feel I'm back in Melbourne or Manchester even, not dreary old Perth.

blog blog blah blah

So I'm doing my EURO1101 homework (for last week admittedly, but anyways) and reading about EU focus groups and people's reactions to queries about the European-ness and feelings of integration, what is Europe etc. Reading peoples comments about how good it feels to be outside of your own country, yet in Europe with other Europeans reminded me of a party I went to a couple of weeks ago.

I was embroiled within turgid discussions of maximising wealth-creation - how the HELL do I have friends like this? - when I escaped to meet new people from South America, Switzerland and Japan. I proceeded to engage in lengthy free-flowing ebullient discourse (sorry, I got started on that sentence and I HAD to finish it Stephen Fry style). Let's start again ... I had the most lovely chat with these people, exchanging travel stories, learning new words from each others languages, posing for photographs, sharing study plans and discussing future prospects. It was the most lovely conversation I had had with (dare I say it) "strangers" in a very long time. I can hold my own amongst such people, I would have felt the same if we'd been in any of their countries - as one might be keen to point out that I was the native here - and we were all equal. I rarely feel that in my little city in this corner of the world - probably why I upped sticks and left so early on in life - yet to come across citizens of the world like these, those who've ventured beyond their language/economic/political boundaries for whatever reasons, and to communicate with them, is probably one of the most interesting things about being alive.

Long may it continue ...

I am drowning ...

... in SuperSearch! It's limitless possibilities and endless connections to obscure fricking journals with tiny wee undergrad papers AND book reviews (what use is a BLOODY book review???? ) is driving me to the point of BASHING ON MY KEYBOARD VERY HARD, pushing my temples to stop my brain from exploding, grunt loudly at the computer, push my fingers as far into my stomach as I possibly can without it really properly hurting and wanting to jump out the window.

How am I EVER going to find a flipping article I can use in my essay when there are probably ten trillion billion to choose from?

Maybe going to University in the times before the internet was actually easier? Maybe that's why my friends actually had FUN (yes, you heard it, FUN!) at University, because there weren't ENDLESS LIMITLESS POSSIBILITIES. Can I make it any clearer as to how difficult for a perfectionist ENDLESS LIMITLESS POSSIBILITIES actually is?

I think I need to rename something of mine ENDLESS LIMITLESS POSSIBILITIES. My anxiety? Too obvious. My brain? Not witty enough. My sense of reason? Untrue. My capacity for insanity? Aha, think you've hit the nail on the head there, House ...

I might just go post this at NODE and see what kind of a response I get. When is someone going to wake up to teh fact that I am slowly going C-R-A-Z-Y again and need help??