Saturday, August 28, 2004

Sunday Funday

I wrote a huge big rant the other day because the whole me-being-Dorian-Gray thing prompted me to explain my shameful secret. But Blogger ate it. Bad Blogger. Anyway, here we go.
The thing is, I don't really know what the word is to describe what I am. I have a prejudice.
I have tried to overcome it; searched for childhood traumas that may have prompted it; attempted to confront it face-to-face; but I know I still have a long way to go. The thing is, I don't like ugly people. My secret is out!!!! I am an Aestheticist (the best word I have come up with so far to explain it, Ugliest insinuates a completely different problem).
At work I find it quite an issue. I am forced, by the nature of my job, to be nice to people whose physical appearance offends my delicate sensibilities. Its probably quite helpful in terms of overcoming my wee problem, but sometimes its just painful. Cos some people are really fucking ugly.
And the thing is, I don't really put too much effort into my own appearance either. Most of the time I'm in jeans and t-shirt or equivalent, the other day I was working in my office in my exceptionally stunning red trackies. I wear make-up about six or seven times a year, skirt and heels about the same. Occasionally I have been known to get out the flash hair-do thingy and straighten my hair all pretty, but I really can't be fucked most of the time. Thats why we have hair-ties. If I was one of these girls that spent hours a day on their appearance then one could understand this prejudice I have, but if I was one of those girls then I would be in dire need of some more work to do. Or a stern talking to about priorities. I digress.
I realise that my arguments regarding this matter are thin at best, which is why I need help. Help me overcome my ugly-phobia!! Allow me to see the inner beauty in people, no matter how hard they try to hide it with their awful hair and ill-fitting clothes and sour expressions.
Actually, I know that there are some people who are completely without beauty in any form, and they should be taken out back and shot, but thats just me.

In other news, my mood has improved somewhat.
The Bourne Supremacy is good, although quite hard to watch at some points cos it goes all jumpy. I love that Kiwi actors are turning up everywhere. Taking over the world, one movie sequel at a time.
The GRE is going to be mind-bendingly difficult, especially given that I need to score over 700 to be taken seriously by these schools I'm applying for. Thats 87.5%. UhOh.
Good new tunes, in no particular order: "Run" by Snow Patrol; "The Rat" by The Walkmen; "In a Cage on Prozac" by My Red Cell (also wins "coolest song title" prize). I have also recently reacquired a copy of the sublimely beautiful "Papua New Guinea" by the Future Sound of London. On my top five songs of all time list, thats how good it is!! Fucking awesome.
I've also been listening to Bomb the Bass (cool) and Interpol (cool), which I recommend.
While we're discussing music, heres a funny way to pass a rainy Sunday. You will need a male friend, and his girlfriend. Go up to the girlfriend and put your hand on her shoulder. Double over with mirth as the male friend sings "Get your hands off my woman, motherfucker" in his best falsetto Justin-from-The-Darkness impersonation. Hours of fun to be had.
That is all. You can go now.

Friday, August 27, 2004

More Quiz Fun and Ugly-Phobia

The picture of dorian gray
Oscar Wilde: The Portrait of Dorian Gray. You are a
horror novel from the world of dandies, rich
pretty boys, art and aesthetics, and
intellectual debates between ethical people and
decadent pleasure-seekers. You value beauty and
pleasure but realize their dangers, as well.

Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by

Thursday, August 26, 2004

Movie Geeks Take Note!!!

Yay. Dear old Empire magazine has found yet another way for us to waste hideous amounts of time, I mean, use all that knowledge we gained from watching movies. Yes, its Son of Quote Quiz. And I am a lowly mountain goat.
In other news, Eminem is the shizzle, my nizzles. Especially "Drugs Are Bad" with the South Park kids.
That is all, you can go now.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Things that improve your day:

1- Back massages at the rec. centre and subsequent unknotted back and shoulders.
2- Nachos.
3- Hot water bottles.
4- People that sort stuff out with very little effort from me.
5- Warm woolly scarves.

I'm still working on this list.
Things that pants up your day:

1- Having to get out of bed.
2- Cold bathrooms.
3- Idiotic landlords.
4- Idiotic landlords that keep coming around when you have clearly told them that they are not allowed to, and it is in fact against the law for them to turn up unannounced.
5- People.
6- People who won't shut up.
7- People who perpetuate banality.
8- People who ask things like "how was your day?"
9- People who thrive on melodrama.
10- Christians.
11- Unceasing neck pain.
12- RSI, or whatever the fuck its called these days. Sore wrists and hands from working at a computer all day, thats what its fucking called.
13- Deadlines that just keep coming, no matter how much you ignore them.
14- Disobedient hair.
15- Not living alone, therefore not being able to play Rammstein and Ministry at maximum volume first thing in the morning in an attempt to compensate for waking up in an extremely foul mood.
16- People that don't email you back when you ask for their advice.
17- Filling in forms.
18- Fake enthusiasm.
19- People who pretend to be cleverer and funnier than they actually are.
20- Bad puns and old jokes.
21- The over sensitive and idiosyncratic mousepad on my laptop that has a mind of its own. No, I don't want to navigate away from this page, if I did, I would have fucking told you, arsehole.
22- The need to have a sensible round number of things for this list. Fuck it, I'm going to stop there. Angerball.

Sunday, August 22, 2004

In Which Claire Throws Up. Lots.

As has been stated in this very forum previously, I used to be immune to the hangover. But now, holyflamingarseholesbatman. These days I'm not really one for going out on a regular basis, but when I do go, I go well.
I started off at my sister's house, where it was a rather belated happy birthday dinner for her husband. I know that folks with children don't really get much of an opportunity to get pissed, but I've seen these people a few times on the chop, and wow. They can certainly drink. Much wine was consumed, and my brother-in-law's bottle of peach schnapps mysteriously evaporated. So once we'd cleaned up the booze, my sister says: "Claire, can you make coffee? I'm too pissed." Needless to say, nobody got their coffee.
After a wee snooze on the couch (completely unintended, btw), my cell phone rings about 3am, and its the people from work I was meant to meet up with, as it was Carra's going away party. So I get a taxi, and start over again. We were supposed to be going to a strip club, for some reason Carra is keen on drinking there, but as soon as we got there we realised it was crap, so quickly made our way to Mansions, and Simon's cocktail expertise. Mmmmm. Cocktails. I'm pretty sure I had more than a couple of vodka & oranges too, but its all a blur.
I'm also having visions of attempting to chase Nike through city mall, which may explain the very sore legs I had yesterday. I was in heels. Always a good combination, cocktails, high heels and chasing cheeky Germans through town.
Also interesting, one of my workmates confessed his Feelings For Me. Its always nice when someone fancies you, even if you don't reciprocate. Its also a bit suck, cos everyone knows what its like to like someone who doesn't feel the same, so its like "Um, sorry." But I must give him credit, I was pretty pissed and he didn't once try and pull the moves or be a sleazy bastard, so thats nice.
But on to Sunday. Oh Dear. I was actually intending to blog my hangover throughout the day (Live updates from the toilet bowl), but surprise surprise, was too hungover.
I eventually got home about 8.30 am, and thats when the fun really began. I lost count of how many times I threw up, but I remember trying to drink water so that I'd have something in my stomach, but even that wouldn't stay down. The back of my throat, where it meets the nose, was burning all last night because of all the stomach acids. Also, my head was pounding like a motherfucker, but do you think that aspirin would stay in my stomach long enough to work? Not bloody likely. I did the classic hangover shower, where one crawls into the shower, turns it on hot, and sits in the bottom of the shower, hugging ones knees and moaning softly to oneself, earnestly promising the gods one will never drink alcohol again just makeitstoppleaseiwanttodie. After about three quarters of an hour of that, I had to get out of the shower and throw up again, then back to bed for a bit more sleep, before the next round of puking. Thats the worst kind of puking too, cos theres nothing in your stomach to throw up, so you don't even feel any better.
I was supposed to start work at 5.30, so J rang at 5.30 to see if I was still alive. I was still in bed, but managed to get myself together to leave the house about twenty to six, and got to work just in time to throw up again, and start work at 6. And when I say "start work", I mean I clocked in and managed to drink a glass of flat lemonade and munch on a few chips for about half an hour, before I was composed enough to actually talk to customers. Although I didn't throw up again. Yay.
So my toilet has had some good hugs in the last day, my naughty liver has had some severe punishment, and I have been thoroughly reminded of why I really am getting a bit old for this sort of carry on.
However....there is a bus trip in a couple of weeks, and you can bet your boots that I will go and get completely arseholed, and you lovely readers will have another exciting post to read then. Yay, I hear you cry.
Must go and eat some veges now, before my internal organs stage a mass walkout and go and live with someone who doesn't punish them.
My kidneys actually hurt. Not a good sign.

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Conspiracy Theory Update

I may well be the last person in this city to see "Gloomy Sunday", but I am no longer the last to have read "The Da Vinci Code". I started it on Saturday, and finished it on Sunday, cos it was SO FUCKING GOOD I could barely put it down. READ THIS BOOK!!! DO IT!!!
I really couldn't give a flying fuck about these American style conspiracy theories about aliens and government coverups and all that crap, the conspiracy theories I'm fascinated by are much older than that, and usually are based in France, for some reason. "Foucault's Pendulum" is the one that really got me started, and then the movie "Pi", and now "The Da Vinci Code". The premise of the book is that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married, and when he died, she was pregnant. Because the nasty Roman powers that be were chasing after all those associated with Jesus, she was in danger, so some of the remaining apostles helped her escape to France, where she gave birth to a daughter named Sarah, who's descendants continued the blood line of Jesus and Mary up until the present day. The Big Bad Catholic church knew about all this carry on, and were determined to destroy all evidence of Mary's child's line, so a secret society (and heres where my interest really got caught!) was formed by a bunch of important people to protect the family line, and the documentation proving their ancestry. Their reason for doing this was because a conference in Nicea in the 4th century hosted by the emperor Constantine had agreed that Christ was the Son of God. Note, this was 300 or so years after the fact. It was decided by a narrow margin that the nature of Jesus was divine, therefore he could not have had earthly relations, therefore any evidence of Mary Magdalene and her child must be destroyed. This is where the Magdalene smear campaign comes in, making out that she was a prostitute, coming up with the story of Eve and the original sin and all that crap that has made women secondary citizens for thousands of years. According to the documentation behind "The Da Vinci Code", its all a big pile of steaming turd, established years after Jesus died to keep quiet all the pesky "pagans", ie those who didn't hate and fear women, and who respected and cared for the earth.
A lot of the stuff in the book is based on historical documentation, and the book opens with a note that all descriptions of secret societies, rituals and documentation is completely accurate, which really gets the old brain ticking over. I'm intrigued by religion, really. I think its fascinating that people can accept what they're told, and base their lives around it, and in some cases, give their lives for it.
The book is loaded with symbolism, the main character is an expert at this sort of thing, and there are some interesting alternatives to popular interpretations of the Star of David, the devil's horns, the Mona Lisa, the stripes that armies use to denote rank, the Last Supper (the painting, not the dinner party) and my particular favourite, sex. Thats right, nookie itself recieves a mention. I really despise the traditional Church take on sex, that it is inherently evil and a sin. WTF? At its most base level, the purpose of sex is to make babies, so how that can be evil is beyond me, really. Someone said to me a while ago that when she was married she was "pure", ie a virgin. Thats fine, if thats what you want to do, personally I believe that being with a person physically is an important part of a relationship, but thats just me. Also, try before you buy, but what ever makes you happy, thats fine. But the notion that never having had sex makes you "pure", more so that a person that has, really gets my goat. It implies that there is something inherently dirty and defiling about sex, that by physically expressing your love for your partner you are reducing your own value.
Look, I think I've made my point, but here is the Reader's Digest Version, cos its after 2am and I'm tired.
Read "The Da Vinci Code", for it is good.
Sex is not a bad thing, and does not reduce your resale value.
Question everything.
You can never trust an organisation that has as much blood on its hands as the Christian Church.

I really didn't intend for that to be a big rant, but I'm tired, and given that I have had a whole glass of wine (you party animal!!), am feeling unable to edit what comes out of brain and through fingers and onto page.
Also, while I'm dishing out advice; plant more trees, use suncream, always check the oil in your car, get a smear test, don't smoke, teach your children about dogs, don't hide from the rain, read "Foucault's Pendulum" by Umberto Eco, drink lots of water, save half of what you earn, eat breakfast, stay away from nasty cheap wine, wear clothes that fit you as you are not as you want to be, and don't stay up all night blogging when you should be sleeping cos you have an appointment in the morning and then have to go and do lots of work!!!
Note to self: Follow own advice.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Reasons Why We Love Zach Braff

1) Scrubs is funny.
2) He blogs.
3) Hes Jewish.
4) He thinks Ali G is a comic genius.
5) Hes taller than me.
6) Did I mention that Scrubs is funny?

In other news....
Last night was a reasonably good telly night. I watched "I'm With Her", which was fairly mindless and funny, and "Crossing Jordan", which I think is really quite good. Jordan has all the qualities I admire in a person; brains, irreverence, stroppiness, blatant disregard for authority, and a rather scruffy sense of style. Yay for putting interesting and clever women on television!! I think Jordan might have the potential to be up there with CJ from the West Wing and Michelle Dessler from 24, although I hear Michelle won't be back for the next season. Oh well, we'll always have CJ, although I'm not quite sure whats happened to the West Wing. I haven't watched telly for such a long time, its nice to just sit down and be entertained for a bit. Mind you, most telly is complete and utter shite, so its a rare night when one can watch a couple of hours worth without one's brain liquifying and trickling out ones ear, or putting ones foot through the TV screen. I have a couple of flatmates who are complete telly addicts, and they watch all sorts of shite, you wouldn't believe! Every night they're watching one thing and taping another to watch later, shit that normal folk would recoil in horror from. Surprising really, given that neither of them is an idiot. Contrary to evidence from last night's laundry flooding incident.....Kidding!!! Best be nice, cos they may read this and I'll get home to find my shoes full of water and my bed apple-pied if I mock them too much.
Ah fuckit, everythings funny. Well, most things are.
Except perhaps the fact that I really have to pull finger and get stuck into this Marsden Project stuff, given that I have to have it done by October. Uh Oh!!
Less blog Claire, and more work.
What to do?

I have a night off work tonight, and I have no plans, no family dinners to go to, no homework to do, no movies to attend, no functions to be at, and I'm really not quite sure what to do with myself.
While I was writing my thesis I composed a huge list of Things To Do Once Finished, but its just so huge that I really don't quite know where to start. Perhaps if I go home and try to fix my sewing machine I can get started on a few things. Or I could go and get geekishly ahead on my statistics work. Or spend the evening working on my research?
I think maybe I purposely overload myself with work so that I'm not forced to make these decisions!! Maybe I'll bake. Maybe I'll work on my plan for world domination. Maybe I'll try and get through the practice GRE exam I have. I have developed an inability to waste time, when perhaps occasionally it is good for one to waste time.
I could try that.
And after ten minutes, I'll find some work to do.
Yay, Fishboy is returning soon!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, August 08, 2004

Sad Old Cow

No really, I've had a whole 330ml bottle of Steinlager, and am several sips into my second one, and am feeling a bit pizzled. Oh dear. I remember the days when I could drink half a bottle of vodka, party through the night, and be at work at 9am the next day. Now I'm a one-can-wonder, a Cadbury special as it were. Glass and a half. Am showing my age. UhOh. Time to start lying about it I think.
Its Sunday night and I'm chilling out after work, giving serious consideration to going to bed, and half watching Alien Resurrection while catching up on blog-reading. Brad Dourif is one freaky dude. And the bloke that plays the captain of the ship that brings the prisoner bodies to the alien experimenter guys has a really sexy voice. Plus theres the added bonus of that really hot bloke from CSI, and Sigourney Weaver, cos shes really cool. So all in all, a lot better than people say.
Went to see Hellboy on Friday night, I thought it was pretty cool. Mind you, I think I'm pretty easily pleased when it comes to movies, so you'd expect that.
Am giving some consideration to buying a house. The thing is, I want to live by myself, given that I'm the only person I'm capable of living with (extremely low annoyance tolerance and unwillingness to spend any time improving it), but in this city, if I want to be doing that, it will cost at least $150 a week for a liveable place. And if I'm spending that much every week, I may as well be paying back a house, rather than lining the pockets of some fat bastard landlord. And if I do end up going to live in the Great Satan for five or six years while I do a Phd, that is if someone will give me a fat scholarship and entrance into one of those flash graduate schools, I can get tenants in the house, and I can become one of those fat bastard landlords whose pockets get lined!!! But then there is the whole coming up with the money thing, and just for a change, thats where my plan falls flat.
Sexy voice guy has just been munched by the alien. Bugger. Oh yay, heres Ripley, come to save the day in manner of Mighty Mouse or similar. Time for bed now I think, 1.15am, and have to go to work in the morning. Hey, 11 o'clock is still technically morning, cos thats about when I'll be arriving at the office!
A gazillion things to do this week, and about 50 hours work is included in that. Bizzo.

Monday, August 02, 2004

Saving the World, in 3 easy steps

If only...
Thanks to Sanchia's informative informational skills, I am applying for the Vodafone World Of Difference Grant, so that I can go to Afghanistan and teach women to read. Providing, of course, that they want to read English, cos I don't know a single word of Pashto or Farsi (I had to Google that!!). But hey, you've got to start somewhere. And so, I will be volunteering at the Refugee and Migrant Centre, and we'll be adding that to my two jobs, a statistics course and the completion of my MA, and whats that other thing I like to do.....ummm....Oh yeah. Sleep. Theres not a hell of a lot of that going on at the moment.

I am the only person in my house who has a job. Hows that? And there are those among the jobless in my house that I do at least twice as much as in terms of household contributions, and who sleep twice as much as me. Theres only so much nagging one can do really, before it starts to get beyond a joke. Actually we left the joke component behind in about February, so keep an eye out for the headlines: Lazy slob student disembowelled by angry flatmates, judge rules it completely justified, praises flatmates for contributing to the earth's future.

See, now I'm even angry thinking about it. Let it go Claire.....

In other news, I still haven't heard from the chap at Yale who I want to study with, which is really not a good sign. Uhoh. Maybe hes off plotting ways to get me into Graduate School without having to reveal my awful GPA. Or maybe hes hoping that if he ignores me long enough I'll go away. Fat Chance, mate. Thats been tried many a time, with a perfect record of failure every time.

Anyway, must dash now and finish my stats assignment. I wonder if it takes anyone else in the class all afternoon to do.......