2004-07-12 - 5:57 p.m.
Holidays. Elephants. Babies. These are some key words in my life at the moment. Okay, maybe not elephants so much, unless you count the metaphorical elephant-in-corner-type-thing, in which case, I own enough elephants to trample my fair city and possibly construct some kind of elephant pyramid. Which would be ultimately cooler than the Egyptian ones .. but probably smellier.
Ahem. Where was I? Ah, holidays. I've been doing stuff which if I listed aloud would seem constructive but really they aren't. I can really sum these holidays up as a long period of bludging interspersed with matters of practicality [cooking! driving! and nobody's died from my doing of either yet!] and the occasional elephant wrestle [Elephants 43, Babs 2].
There's been a lot of shopping as well. I somehow now own a pink dress, pink lipgloss, pink nailpolish, and pink shoes. And this was all just bought in the last few days. I will be the Scary Pink Lady. Freaky in Pink.
Mmm. And there's been a tiny bit of life having as well. I saw Little Birdy the other night, I liked her shoes.
Which reminds me, Thirsty Merc's launch of their latest single is on Friday night at the Annandale. I beg, insist, cajole, and invite you, whoever you may be dear reader, to be there. I say this everytime but c'monnnnn ... it's going to be great! I'm probably going to be drunk within 10 minutes 'cos by some freaky twist of fate my uni results come out that day, and hah, I am so very close to failing stats that either way I suspect sobriety is likely to elude me.
I'm humouring myself now, but if anyone does go, get there early 'cos the place is totally gonna sell out. Dave Hibbert (he's good and Pete Murray-esque) and Fur Patrol are supporting ... and um ... yeah. I'm not sure what else I can say or do to promo the gig short of offering sexual favours, so I'll stop now... I'll think of something, I suppose.
I'm having diet problems again, as always. It's a strange combination of compulsive starvation and overeating, which to an extent cancel each other out and make me wonder if there's actually a problem.
Home life is prototypically problematic, to the point where it is so anticipated that it fails to get any sort of rise out of me. I don't know whether this is bad or not.
Other than that, the in-betweens of holidayness are quite comfortable. I'm still obsessed with TV -- Double The Fist, MEPHISTO ROCKS! -- and music -- Thirsty Merc! FRIDAY@ANNANDALE! -- and my other trivial pursuits. I'm still avoiding the elephants 'cos I'm too much of a pacifist to get a rifle and make with the slaughter.
Etc. etc.
Ahem. Where was I? Ah, holidays. I've been doing stuff which if I listed aloud would seem constructive but really they aren't. I can really sum these holidays up as a long period of bludging interspersed with matters of practicality [cooking! driving! and nobody's died from my doing of either yet!] and the occasional elephant wrestle [Elephants 43, Babs 2].
There's been a lot of shopping as well. I somehow now own a pink dress, pink lipgloss, pink nailpolish, and pink shoes. And this was all just bought in the last few days. I will be the Scary Pink Lady. Freaky in Pink.
Mmm. And there's been a tiny bit of life having as well. I saw Little Birdy the other night, I liked her shoes.
Which reminds me, Thirsty Merc's launch of their latest single is on Friday night at the Annandale. I beg, insist, cajole, and invite you, whoever you may be dear reader, to be there. I say this everytime but c'monnnnn ... it's going to be great! I'm probably going to be drunk within 10 minutes 'cos by some freaky twist of fate my uni results come out that day, and hah, I am so very close to failing stats that either way I suspect sobriety is likely to elude me.
I'm humouring myself now, but if anyone does go, get there early 'cos the place is totally gonna sell out. Dave Hibbert (he's good and Pete Murray-esque) and Fur Patrol are supporting ... and um ... yeah. I'm not sure what else I can say or do to promo the gig short of offering sexual favours, so I'll stop now... I'll think of something, I suppose.
I'm having diet problems again, as always. It's a strange combination of compulsive starvation and overeating, which to an extent cancel each other out and make me wonder if there's actually a problem.
Home life is prototypically problematic, to the point where it is so anticipated that it fails to get any sort of rise out of me. I don't know whether this is bad or not.
Other than that, the in-betweens of holidayness are quite comfortable. I'm still obsessed with TV -- Double The Fist, MEPHISTO ROCKS! -- and music -- Thirsty Merc! FRIDAY@ANNANDALE! -- and my other trivial pursuits. I'm still avoiding the elephants 'cos I'm too much of a pacifist to get a rifle and make with the slaughter.
Etc. etc.
