Headachey.  Vomity.  Fatigued.  Just generally quite ill. Managed to make it to work today, but uni was a no go. I do feel guilty. Even though I really don't feel like I should be driving a car right now. I'm so tired. Can't even nod off for a little nap yet. Made up a timetable today. Deviating from it already. Twice actually. So progress is non existent right now. Have to cut down my draft to 1000 words. Bummer. At least I have the 2000 one as a headstart for the last one. Pain killers are not working. My head hurts. Don't seem to be able to eat properly. Bit of a worry.

I haven't quite dived in yet. I'm just maybe running my toes along the surface. Sometimes I'm sitting on the jetty splashing my feet around in the water. I still don't quite know how cold it is in there, and I can only see the fish, distorted, through the surface of the water. I haven't even dunked my head in and gotten my hair wet. I need to jump straight in, see everything from below the surface, and discover everything I'm missing out on. I want to see if the water is hot or cold, or what different types of fish are hiding right down at the bottom. But I guess most of all, I want to see how long I can hold my breath for.

This is my DRAFT for my creative writing essay. DRAFT people. So if it sucks, it's ok.

I need to spend less time with my boyfriend. Not because I hate him, or because I feel we need "space" or anything like that. It's because the strange dynamics of our relationship make it almost impossible to make friends "on the outside". For instance, we have spent hours discussing such topics as the best strategy to survive the zombie war, how to avoid a raptor attack (after we discovered xkcd.com), the best way to administer a dose of chloroform and what inanimate object we would attach if one of us has something amputated.  Baby eating jokes are commonplace around the dinner table, farting has become a household sport and to be honest and nothing is sacred. Nothing.

Now, I find it almost impossible to carry on a conversation with a person I just met. I find it hard to believe that someone isn't interested in the funny shaped cloud I saw earlier, or that I think frogs can grant wishes if you just try. I am positive that one day the bees will take over and I feel I'm just doing my civil duty to tell as many people as I can. But no, everyone just thinks I'm weird. I'm not weird, I'm just in a strange relationship.

Apparently. Even in social situations. With friends. And my boyfriend. They can go and have fun with their games. We must stay in the kitchen and talk of depressing domestic issues. I know I'm being weird. Deviating from gender roles is seen like that. Education has turned me weird. That's ok. Am I going to be seen as a bitch? A cranky feminist? Probably PMS'ing? More than likely. Women don't have the right to question otherwise. Not at all. Stay in the kitchen. Shut up. If your upset about something, it's probably just your hormones sweetie, don't make a scene. Do I hate being female? No. Do I hate being in social situations, yes. With certain types of people, yes. Men. Uneducated men. The conversation is dominated by the setting time of concrete, and car engines. Fascinating. Anyone want to discuss the sociological impacts of the changing work patterns in modern Australia? The role the media plays on our ability to debate with each other? What about the significant impacts the Ancient Greeks had on modern day society? No? You would have loved it back then. The women pretty much stayed in the home and had no rights. Except in Sparta. Yes. Like from the movie, Sparta. No the Persians didn't really have giants. And the Immortals were not really Immortal, it just seemed like it. I heard Queen Gorgo was actually quite ugly, but that was just speculation.

I am not in a good mood.

I could also easily title this post "I hate Amanda Patterson" after her blood pressure raising story on ACA about the people who went into the water, and were attacked by sharks, and were now, get this, scared to get back into the water because there are sharks in there. In the water? Sharks? Surely you jest! If I remember correctly, two of them went in the water, early in the morning. Traditionally sharky breakfast time!

Now, I know, maybe they didn't know that, but lets look at this logically. Sharks, big man eating, toothy, bloodthirsty killing machines, live in the water. If someone wants to go in said water, do we not think that maybe, just maybe, they might want to google, or check out the wiki page on sharks, and do a bit of research on the feeding patterns on the big man eating, toothy, bloodthirsty killing machines, before they go into their home?

Holy run on sentence, batman, I know. It's just behavior like this that is going to give me an anger stroke. But hey, I promise to have sympathy for the poor bastard that gets attacked by a shark when he's in the supermarket doing his Saturday morning shopping.

Maybe it's just Amanda Patterson...every time I see her on the TV I just feel like punching a baby.

I need to stop watching ACA. I'm such a glutton for punishment.

I have only been at this job a few weeks. It's ok. Well, it's cleaning. How ok could it possibly be? Hours are good, pay isn't bad, and to be honest, the work itself isn't as bad as I thought it would be. All in all it's an ok job where I earn ok money to save for my house deposit for when I finish Uni.

But nooooooo.....that is just not good enough! I have to think that someone of with my creativity and intelligence (modesty is for suckers) should be doing something less menial. And that is my abject snobbery coming out there. Pure undiluted snobbery.

How did a low class girl from bogan-central Morisset become such a freaking snob? A girl who used to hang out and smoke cigarettes at the local train station after school. A girl who, at one point, lived off goon. A girl who dressed, and then proceeded to act just like, a pirate for her 18th birthday. What the hell happened here? Who do I blame for this terrifying transition? Myself? I didn't mean it! I just wanted an education, and came to the conclusion that 4+ years of University and the subsequent debt to become a Psychologist to possibly diagnose myself would actually be cheaper than the collective amount of my Psychologist's bill.

But back to my question, Should I stay or should I go? Should I reach for a better job, or stay with this one. I hear menial jobs are a requirement for people who are working their way to a successful career, but I also hear that being stuck in a rut is bad for one's ambitions. My boss comes back from Austria in a few months, I'll decide then. But I think I already know what I'll be doing.

Signed,
Snobby Snobbette, of Snobville.

When I was in year 2, our teacher was reading the class a book. It was a book on what the tooth fairy uses our teeth for after she collects them. Each page had a different use written on it, with a picture to demonstrate. Around the middle of the book, one page was deemed inappropriate for us to see, and she skipped right past it and went on to the next page.

To this day, I wonder what the hell was on that page.

Before I get going here, I have to make something clear. This problem has improved dramatically in recent times, but it still remains a problem.

I have got seriously terrible study habits. Terrible. Inconsistent. Lazy. Sub-Par.

Is it the reading? No, it's not the reading. I love the reading. I could read until my eyeballs fell out. Its the writing. Well, not so much the writing, its the research. Actually, I think my problem lies in the referencing. Whatever it is, I need to fix it. I like the idea of writing Essays, doing the research, writing it all down. But I leave it to the very last minute.  Literally Minutes before the Essay is due, I am still working on it.

This is bad news, Ode. Bad news. Procrastination, thy name is Felicity. But no more ! I have thankfully only buggered up the assignments that weigh the least, but I will get the others done, ahead of time. Days, even weeks, before the due date. I will. You watch me.

I resolved to do this a while ago, but I thought I better write it down and make it official, or something.

I am learning to speak AFRIKAANS, not Africanis....which is apparently a breed of dog...

I has a new kitteh.

She is teh cute!!

So, I have been reading my Creative Writing assignment/Story and reading other peoples poems on the forums and I have come to a conclusion.

I know nothing about poetry. Nothing. I would like to know. I like the idea of being able to write poetry, and I like reading other people's poems, but I cannot for the life of me compose one of my own. I have tried, and it has never ended with anything remotely expressive or readable. Do poems have to rhyme? Do they have to make sense? Rhyming, I have never gotten over when my primary school teacher lecturing me in front of the class because my poem didn't rhyme. Bastard.

I think I may be trying too hard, I have to get into a 'creative mind frame' and start writing down anything that comes into my head.

I have a headache.

Dear Strutters Punters,

    I trust you are enjoying the alcoholic beverages that are available to you at Strutters nighclub. However, as the contracted cleaner of said nightclub, I would greatly appreciate it if when your body decides that you have exceeded your alcohol limit for the night, that you please find the appropriate place to vomit i.e not the urinal, the sink or the gap between the toilet and the toilet wall.

Thank you

Unimpressed cleaner



That aside, I should be getting a new kitty next week. A gorgeous little siamese that I will name Bodhi. I hope Laylar likes her, which is a long shot because I don't think Laylar actually likes anything, except food and sleep. According to the fella at the pet shop, my future kitty loves to be picked up and snuggled THE EXACT OPPOSITE of my little Laylar, who hates being touched.

My co worker is teaching me how to speak Africanis, so far I can say "good morning", "I love you", "thank you", "bye" and ""That is really disgusting". Which is more than I can say in German already!

Hold the Phone ! Stop the presses! I've ACTUALLY written something !

Its something that jumped into my head while playing LOTRO. Will I expand on this and explain whats happening? Yes...Yes I will.

Quick story from my recent ill fated journey down to NSW;

I went to see my sister back In Morisset (don't worry, I showered as soon as I left that hole) and I have to say her kids are adorable. Anyone who knows me can attest that I am not a kid person, but I will steal my Nephew and Niece if my sister ever turns her back for long enough.

Related fact, I have a tattoo on my right shoulder (an 18th birthday present from my Dad...yeah, dont ask), it looks like an asian design of a whale swimming through water, the only picture I have is on my myspace page.

Anyway, I was sitting on the couch with my 5 year old nephew when this happened;

Liam (pointing at my arm); "What's that?"

Me; "Thats a Tattoo, Like a drawing."

He comes closer and looks closely at my arm.

Liam (Pointing at the whale); "What's that bit?"

Me; "That's a whale, darl."

Liam; "Oohhh...." He points to the Water surrounding the Whale, "What's that bit?"

Me; "That's water."

Liam then runs his fore finger over the green and blue ink of the water and then looks at his finger in absolute puzzlement, rubbing it against his thumb.

Liam; "But I cant feel it!"


And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I want to steal my sister's kids.

So, no creativity binge. I'm sorry. For the one person who reads this (Hi Ha'th), and my fellow Creative Writing studiers (maybe, if anyone followed the link, Hello if you did!) I am truly sorry. I'll make up for it by posting a picture of my cat pretending to be me;



Feel better?

So what have I been doing? Well, I have been living with the music from Sweeny Todd stuck in my head for the past few days, and I have to say I'm ok with it. My cat has been bouncing off the walls like a crack addict for a few days as well. It's especially bad at night, walking out of the bedroom in the middle of the night to go to the toilet can get quite perilous.
I think I've worn Matt down into letting me get another kitten, on the condition that I buy him a lego Super Star Destroyer first (Don't ask...just don't ask). If it wasn't for Matt I would be the crazy cat lady, with 2 million cats running the house. Thats my plan for when I get older. Be the crazy cat lady in the street that all the children are frightened off. You've gotta have dreams people :)

Kitten talk aside, I'm just sitting here, smelling the rain through my window and trying desperately to think of what to write for this writing essay. Sadly, my jolt of inspiration I got a few days ago has all but fizzled out and I'm back scratching my head trying to find a way to structure this story. After reading all I could find on Harappan civillisation (which just felt like the same few paragraphs over and over again), I feel like I'm at a dead end.
I know that What and Why of the story, I'm just stuck on the How...

Actually, at the VERY LAST MINUTE I think I may have, possibly, maybe, perhaps though of a different story. Curse my inability to make a damn decision and stick to it. CURSE IT!!

XXOO

This is where I HOPE to put my writings and where I will end up on my next creativity binge.