All the people that you've loved they're all bound to leave some keepsakes

Right now I'm feeling a bit strange. I'm not sure if its because I'm going to the city tomorrow and my plans are a bit up in the air, or because I've spent too long sitting at my computer today with no real purpose, or the fact that I'm listening to the Smiths, or the fact that its the end of this year. I'm overly anxious, I always have been. I can't leave well enough alone, because I can't turn my brain off. It goes off at a thousand miles an hour, almost always in the wrong direction, and this is not a good thing.
Right now I'm anxious that Vivek will not be able to meet up with me when I get to NYC, and that the TAN man will be too busy to meet up for a drink, and that I'll be stuck in NYC alone for New Year, and then I'll be thinking about how much fun everyone else is having and it will only increase my misery when in reality I'm likely to meet up with both Vivek and TAN and we'll have a wonderful time and I'll get to see a little bit more of the city, and get a bit drunky, and buy some crappy souvenirs, and despite the fact I don't have a place to stay on Saturday night I will still have fun because if push comes to shove I can store my bag in a locker somewhere or dump it at Vivek's cousin's place and stay up all night partying with people I don't know yet.

This year, wow. We've had a few beauties this year, haven't we.
Speaking for myself, I began the year in the last stages of my Masters degree, proceeded to teach at two universities, present a paper at a conference in Australia, ended the affair I should not have been having but damn it was fun, randomly found out about this university in New York, and ended up here on a full tuition scholarship with a graduate assistantship to boot.

I also finished a career in hospitality I began eleven years previous, which was bittersweet. I still miss the madness, especially in the kitchen, but it was time to move on, and I was in a position to be able to.

I saw the Beastie Boys and the Chemical Brothers in the same day at the Big Day Out, which was coolness personified. The next one is headlined by none other than Iggy and the Stooges, and I would freaking love to see them, especially if they do Search and Destroy. That would rule. I also saw the awesomeness that is Fat Freddy's Drop on my last Saturday in NZ, and thoroughly recommend it to anyone.

I built a really good relationship with my nieces. I had a pretty good one with my nephew, because he's that little bit older, and remembered more of me from before I left the last time, but Sam was just a baby, and Rosie, well she wasn't even a twinkle in her father's eye.

Speaking of her father. My brother in law. This year was pretty extreme as far as my family is concerned. I didn't blog about it at the time, because it wasn't my thing to be talking about, but it's over now, and I feel like I can.
Not that it was about me at all, but the day before you are meant to submit your thesis is not the best day for one's beloved brother in law to be going into surgery to remove a brain tumour the size of a golf ball. Especially when said man is 32 years old, father of three children under ten years old, and a penchant for junk food notwithstanding, really freaking healthy. The guy goes for three hour bike rides. For fun!! Up and down hills!!!
When we found out we had no idea what was happening, he was having violent seizures, but there was no trace of epilepsy or similar, my poor sister had to hold it together for the sake of her children, two of whom were too young to understand, and its hard looking a child in the eye and telling them that daddy was going to be fine when you have absolutely no idea if he will live or die. I was still working in the restaurant at the time, and trying to hold it together there was a struggle at times, one which I lost a couple of times.

When I was trying to put the finishing touches on my thesis for submission while the rest of the family was at the hospital or with the children it really made me think about the important stuff. Have you seen Labyrinth? If not, you should, because it is one of the best movies ever made. All of life's important lessons are in that film.
There is one scene where the heroine Sarah, a sixteen year old Jennifer Connolly, is in a mock up of her bedroom. The evil Goblin King has stolen her baby brother and plans to turn him into a goblin, and Sarah must prevent him. A witchy crone type goblin attempts to distract Sarah with the illusion of her bedroom, and shows her all the treasures of her childhood. Teddy bears, figurines, a shiny gold mini carousel, are all things the witch uses, saying to Sarah "these are the things you want".
In the face of all this temptation to abandon the search for her brother, Sarah has a moment of clarity. She realises the true value of family versus trinkets, and hurls the gold carousel into the mirror, crying "Its all junk".

That scene, better than anything I could come up with, summed up what I felt while sitting in my office that day. My thesis, the quest for money and shiny things, all the material things of this world, are all junk compared to the real wealth one finds in family. Deadlines, possessions, daily stresses, wondering what to have for dinner, what to watch on the telly, whether to buy those new shoes, its all junk when a member of your family is lying on an operating table.
And I think we've all learned from this. I said to my sister that the whole unpleasant business made me think about what we have, and told her that I love her and that I'm so glad I have her for my sister. And we're all stronger for it too. There's the feeling, at any family gathering, that we are lucky, we are so freaking lucky its not funny, to have all of us here together, and luckier still that we can recognise that.

So many people go through their lives without that sort of opportunity. Sure, it was hell, and given the option, no sane person would chose nearly losing a member of their family over an eventless year, but I believe (after many years of hard work) that there is something positive that can come out of almost anything, and out of this experience we are safe in the knowledge that we love each other, that we are important to each other, and that when the excrement hits the air conditioning we've got what it takes to come out on top.
After a month of not knowing what was going on, then brain surgery, then two months of recovery, followed by several more seizures, a benign verdict on the excised tumour, a few hiccoughs with medication, some more MRIs and other scans, we now have a really positive outcome. He is back at work, the nine month scan proved absolutely no regrowth of tumour type matter, and today he cycled over the Crown Range.
I think after its all over, I can say that the entire experience proved what an incredible woman my sister is. She had to hold it all together for her husband and children, and did so with such grace and strength I am constantly amazed. If anything, I think it was more stressful for her than anyone, including her husband, and she handled it like nothing I have ever seen.

So, if I was to pick a person of the year, as the tv stations seem so keen on doing, I would not pick any old celebrity or politician. I pick her.

I hereby nominate my oldest sister as person of the year, for grace under fire, courage through adversity, true selflessness, keeping it together and raising the three coolest kids this world has ever seen.

And with that, I end the blogging of 2005.
I'm off to the city tomorrow, and my computer will be staying here, keeping an eye on you all.
Sunshine, Grace and Apoc, you may well be recieving boozy phonecalls on New Years Eve. Or not. Depends if I lose my phone/lose my friends/lose my marbles.
TAN, I have emailed you my phone number, so please call me tomorrow and we will have scrummy vodka styles.
Tara, I'm sorry I can't be in Paris with you, but one day baby, one day....
All my friends in NZ yes I know you will have New Years 18 hours before me, please be good to the new year before you send it off this way
Flint....I'll see you on January 14th.

I'll be back in 06.

craigslist?

I have a query that isn't addressed by craigslist.org.
Say I call a guy who is driving from Buffalo to NJ tomorrow, and he sounds normal, and says that he will drop me off at a transit station that will get me to Penn Station and from there I can get to Long Island, what is the likelihood of said driver guy turning out to be an axe-wielding homocidal maniac, and of me turning up as inspiration for a future episode of CSI New York?

We lived in Arizona, and the skies always had little fluffy clouds in them, they were long, and clear, there were lots of stars at night...they were the most beautiful skies....

This just in:
- my ride to the city is no longer happening.
- a bus or a train will cost loads.
- I do however have a place to stay, at Moushimi's brother's place who will be in Washington. Party in Long Island!!
- Its nearly 4pm and all I have achieved today is posting a "please drive me to the city" ad on craigslist and eating some Marmite toast.
- Marmite is the bomb.
- I think I will get a bus to the city tomorrow.
- Some people don't realise when they are being ignored.
- The Future Sound of London are one of the greatest electronica groups ever.
- Lonely Planet books are freaking awesome.
- my microwave is really stinky because Sanjukta burnt something in it and made the whole house smell like burning corpses.
- I think I need a nap.
- My exercise ball is rubbish, but my stomach is looking better.
- Duct tape is one of the greatest inventions known to man.
- I think I have temporarily misplaced my blogging mojo.
- Since beginning this post an hour has passed because I got all distracted by calling up my friend and looking up bus fares and train fares and air fares.
- I don't like the way artists will release one version of their song as a single and then put another version on their record without putting the single version on there as well.
- I would like to go to the zoo.

This post sucks. You have been warned.

I have been sewing tonight for one episode of E-ring one episode of Criminal Minds one episode of CSI New York and two and a half episodes of the X Files season 4 and now my shoulders are all sore and tense because I hand sew none of this sewing machine rubbish and I need a shoulder massage where is my imaginary boyfriend when I need him?
I went to Holly's house today because she's in Oh Hi Oh for the holidays and I said I would water her plants (that's pretty funny really, cos I have what gardeners call a brown thumb) and I raided her cds and books because she said I could and came home and listened to Jewel's first album and sang along really loudly to Who will save your soul. I also watered the plants, and the kitchen floor a little bit too. Now my pooter has some more Simon and Garfunkel to get down to and Grant Lee Buffalo and some Smiths too because the Smiths fucking rule no fricking question about that.
My super duper plans for New Years have gone a bit south because it turns out Sanjukta can't make it to the city with me because she has to go to Canada in a couple of weeks and I was a little cross for about 3 seconds and then forgave her because shes such a cool little Indian and we loves her yes we does. But I won't be completely Nigel NoFriends because Vivek will be there (hopefully thats still the plan) and we can trawl the bars hunting down the finest vodka drinks the city has to offer.
Too tired to blog more.
Going nighty nights now.
A better effort imminent. I am considering a Year In Review type thing, because goodness gracious me what a year!!

I can't pretend I don't need to defend some part of me from you...

I was vicously attacked by the broken handle of my teacup, and much blood came out of my finger, and it was all dripping down my arm and looked really impressive, but I'm a bit of a retard today, so I didn't think to photograph it until it looked much better and now I feel a little put out that it doesn't look as impressive.

So yesterday was Christmas day. It rained, and I got quite drunk. I had a good day though, my sneaky flatmates went and bought me presents, when I thought we'd agreed not to do presents, so I felt a bit stinky about that. We went to this anthropology professor's house, and she made lots of lovely food, and there was much wine, and two beautiful dogs and I am such a sucker for dogs so I was happy talking to them. Then we came home and our house was host to several Bangladeshis so there was them to be talked to, and Sanjukta and I drank some more wine and then I went to bed and watched some old Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy it was pretty cool then I conked out cos I was fairly soused and woke up at 8am dead hungry and thirsty and there were leftover paranthas in the fridge so I ate one with cheese it was odd but good. Much like myself.

And then I slept on and off until after 4pm and managed to squeeze in there the obligatory hangover feed of eggs and tomatoes on toast with loads of Marmite and a few cups of tea and this evening I've been watching telly, some crap magazine style gossip programme and then Crossing Jordan and Las Vegas it was a crossover style thingy, where some extremely spunky guy from Las Vegas was on Crossing Jordan and he snogged Jordan and she had some really cute jammies with ducks on them and then Jordan and Woody were on Las Vegas with hot guy so it was all good a right visual spectacle of hotness. That Jordan's not hard to look at either, she's hot in a smart way and I like that in a woman. My finger hurts, it didn't even when it got cut up, but now it does. Bollocks.
Because I slept all day I am feeling a bit minging at the mo. My teeth are fuzzy and I got dressed at 6.15pm and I really need to have a shower now and try and scrape these colonies of fur off my tooths.
Mmmmm no wonder I am just fighting the boys off with talk like that. They are fair beating down the door to get to me and my hangover death breath and trackpants and scruffy hair and general smelliness.
The hot boy I fancy (a real life one not the hot guy from Las Vegas who I think is going out with that skanky ho from the band formerly known as good before she turned up and now known as the Black Eyed Peas so now I have evidence he has questionable taste in women so sweet, I'm in!) ....um...lost my train of thought.
Yes, hot boy, I can write all sorts of things in here about me being a complete minger because hes away from the internets for a few days and he won't hear about me wallowing in all my hotness and will still fancy me I hope.
Right Claire so far this post blows.
I is going to NYC for some New Year festivities, and I is going to meet up with the TAN man, and the reason I'm publicising this is just in case he turns out to be a psycho serial killer and chops me up into little pieces and posts me home to my mum and dad in small packages, because thats the kind of luck I have. There is also the party to end all parties in Brooklyn apparently, hosted by some ex-Syracuse geography dept folk, and my little Indian friend will be there and we have made some decidedly half-arsed plans to drink martinis in some cool bars. Perhaps TAN can point me in the direction of the cool bars, because I'm bollocksed if I know how to find then, not being particularly cool myself as you may well have guessed.
That Claire, she's many things, but cool has never been one of them. Tall and kind of geeky, but not cool.
Oooooh, speaking of geeky, I got me some grades back today.
PPA 810.2: Research methods for Public Administration - A-
MAX 800: Citizenship and Human Values - A.

And with that little piece of gloating, I'm off to have a shower.

Ok 'fess up.

I got my bear!! Yay!! Thank you!
Someone was clever enough to pick up on my subtle hints.
But what I really want to know is......

Who was it? I really have no idea.
I know who I want it to be from, but unless he was being very cunning, he doesn't know my address, cos I didn't give it.
And as far as people who know my address? Well the mind it doth boggle.
There's one who knows my address who I wish didn't.
There's people at home (NZ) who know it, and who may be the culprit/s (looking pointedly at a certain lovenest in Grafton St...)

This is seriously doing my loaf.
Please tell.

Edit: the nice people at Netflix obviously read blogs, because lo and behold, they now have Black Books, season One, which will be released on January 10th, and which is currently at the top of my queue.
I have but one thing to say: "Don't get judgy with me, Ming the Merciless!!"

There's no aphrodisiac like loneliness, youth, truth, beauty, fame, boredom, red hair, no hair, innocence, awkwardness, impunity, and a picture of you ...

Sunshine said I was pants for not posting.
Ha. I'm getting the natives to speak the lingo!!
Pretty soon they'll be calling up saying lets go out for some kai and going cheers, bro and saying stuff is choice and kia kaha when things get rough, and ka kite when they're leaving and randomly shouting bring back Buck and you're not in Guatemala now Doctor Ropata if the occasion should arise. Photobucket is having a bit of down time at the moment although I think its probably been banished to the time out room cos its not been behaving so nicely recently and refuses to share with the other kids so I'm giving this blogger photo thing a wee go.

If you could cut that skinny Knightley girl out of that photo and replace her with me then I would be happy. I'm a willing volunteer for the Clive/Ioan sandwich.
Actually after the other night's viewing of the Fantastic Four, which completely rules, thanks for asking, I may well have to add Ioan to the list of "men I would leave you for". Perhaps a further viewing of Horatio Hornblower would confirm my diagnosis. Also, Netflix (yay) have the Forsyte Saga, the new one, that he's in, and as soon as I've finished watching The Office (British version, of course) and Yes Minister and Dangermouse and Jeeves and Wooster and all the other things on my list, I will start on that.
The thing that does suck about netflix though is that they don't have Black Books, which I REALLY want to watch. I miss Bernard! I was at Borders the other day and was reminded of that episode where Manny gets a job at the big Borders type bookshop next to Bernard's and the guy tries to get him to cut off his hair and he climbs out the window and gets back to Bernard's, and Bernard's drunk, just for a change, and goes "wash the ceiling, hoover the curtains" and its dead funny. Gee, great story Claire.
See this is how sexy I am. Due to popular demand here I am modelling my brand new top-of-the-range winter jammies, ($12 at Target menswear dept). I also have them in red. Of course.

Now its after 2.30am and its time for lights out, a busy day tomorrow planned, I think I'll have a nap, and maybe watch some daytime telly. There are three Corona's remaining from the dozen I bought on Monday, perhaps I will have them for afternoon tea.

Frightfully sorry...

...but I'm far too busy to blog.
I've got some serious napping to take care of, theres the ceiling that needs staring at for hours on end, theres two dvds from netflix that need watching, theres beer that need to be drunk, sofas to be lain upon, crap telly to be watched, navels to contemplate and excessively long showers to be had.
So you're just going to have to battle through without me for a while.

So this guy comes up to me, his face red like a rose on a thorn bush, like all the colours of a royal flush, and he's peeling off these dollar bills, slapping 'em down...

I would love to write a big fuck-off blog about how I've nearly finished all my work, how I've just got the SPSS component of my exam to do which I have to do on campus because I don't have SPSS on my 'pooter, and how I've written all my citizenship paper except for the intro which I'm doing tomorrow, and how its pretty fucking awesome that I've finished my first semester here and survived relatively unscathed (knock on wood), but seeing as how yesterday I spent 14 hours at my computer and today I've spent about 11 I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF MY COMPUTER that I'm going downstairs now to watch telly and drink vodka.

TTFN.

Right bitches listen up.
Most of you (ie all) will not be getting a Xmas card from me this year. Its not because I don't care (actually it is) its because I bought a pack of twelve and once I'd sent cards to my aunties and uncles and friends back home and friends in Australia (sorry Chad, go to Janine's and share hers) I ran out. I now have one card left, and I'm saving it for that special someone.
Soon as I meet him.....
So, I took a picture of the cards I sent out this year, so you can pretend you are important enough to get one.

Ah, Vincent, how do I love thee, let me count the ways...
Here is what I would have written on the inside:

Dear (your name here)
Happy fucking Christmas.
Smoochies, Claire.

And who says I have no Xmas spirit?!?


Speaking of Xmas spirit, I REALLY FUCKING NEED THIS!!!

Normally when asked what I want for Xmas, I respond with the standard "world peace, end to hunger, European sports car, hot boyfriend who likes to shag" but this year its different. I still want all those things, but I also want this bear.
Whoever buys me this bear will be my number one favourite person for ALL OF JANUARY. Yes, thats right folks, what an offer. Who can refuse the honour of being #1 on Claire's list. And not #1 on her shitlist, which is an entirely different story. Yes, you will be showered with abuse kisses and slaps love and all sorts of pain joy for an entire month!!!
Email me for the address to send the coolest valentine bear to me, and I will love you for an entire month. (buy me the bear)
(unless of course you are an annoying little twat, in which case you can get fucked. But still buy me the bear).

In other news: there is an ice storm. My windows are frozen. Fun. Buy me the bear.
I have just finished my political science paper, and it rules. And by "rules", I of course mean "is complete pants". Buy me the bear.
And now, I have to start this arse munching, bunny killing, flower be-heading, tyre flattening, open mouth eating, puppy kicking, knicker ripping, milk curdling, homophobic, misogynistic, racist, anti-Semitic, red-necked, reactionary, ingrown toenail of an exam.
Pray for me.
And buy me the bear.

I freaking wish....


Thanks Chuck

Finally....

I had a big rant last night about the death penalty and went all Dostoyevsky on your arses, and then realised it was a rant better off over at mine and Gwen's flash new site for such political rants, Some Common Ground.
So all of you toddle off there and have a wee read and pour your vitriol into the comments box.

In keeping with the hideous amounts of work I have to do this week, I'm off now to go out for lunch with my friend.
Ah, I love my life.

Smoochies.

Sphincter says what?

I'm sorry? What did you say, John Howard?
Australia is not a racist nation?

I think we have another nominee for the GW "Delusional World Leaders Hall of Fame".
If Australia has "no underlying racism", then there are gigantic piles of nuclear, biological and chemical weapons lining the streets of Baghdad, inmates at Guantanamo Bay are read bedtime stories by the US army and tucked into bed at night by Condoleeza Rice, Schwarznegger has a PhD in economics, and I'm a middle aged black man.

I mean really, John. This from the country where I learned more racist slurs than any other place I have lived? Where up until the mid 1970s it was still not a crime to kill an Aborigine in some states? Where your houses of government are almost exclusively white, in a country with more ethnic diversity than any place I've seen? Where Pauline Hanson developed a following? Where your government rounds up refugees and places them in concentration camps in the desert? (can you say Woomera?)

Don't get me wrong, I lived there for two years and had a wonderful time (except for when I burnt my hand at work one day, but thats an entirely different story). I have some good friends who are Australian, the lifestyle was great, and there are a gazillion positive things about Australia (cricket team notwithstanding). And I know NZ is far from perfect, despite my usual protestations to the contrary.
But to say that there is not a problem of underlying racism in Australia is equivalent to staring down an oncoming tsunami and claiming that its just a bit of rough weather.

Problems don't go away by denying their existence. I would hope the people who run this world have moved beyond the stage my very small niece is at where she covers her eyes to make things go away.
Problems are resolved by acknowledging them, staring them in the face, understanding them, and addressing them head on.

And here endeth the rant.
Bring it on.

In which dogs are the nicest people there are

This is a photo of a photo of my beloved and departed doggy. I can honestly say, he was one of the nicest most genuine people I have ever met. And I miss him.
I was talking to Apoc via the wonders of google talk (get it you bastards so I can talk shit to you all day and night) and we got talking about dogs, and so I thought I'd share with you the coolest dog ever, who had more personality in his right paw than most people I've met, and didn't let the fact that he was a dog get in the way of being great company and a much loved member of our family.
The great thing about dogs is that they think you're freaking perfect. They couldn't give a rat's arse if you've put ten pounds on, or if your work isn't up to scratch, they just want you home so they can sit at your feet and get pats on the head and chase the cricket ball around the back garden with you and you can take them to the park and they can snuffle around in the dead leaves and eat all sorts of disgusting things and jump on the kids at soccer practice and then come home and put their chin on your knee and look up at you and sigh so you will feed them then they sit beside you all night and in the morning they're so sad to see you go to work and you know that they really mean it. They have no agenda, and their motives are simple and pure.
You are a complete, well rounded and accepted person around your dog.
And for that, I love them.
And now hes chasing cars and smelling other dog's bums in heaven.

This is very confusing

This is what happens in the northern hemisphere in December.
Meanwhile I'm getting emails from my Dad saying how lovely the weather is at home and how the garden looks fantastic and how nice the swimming pool is and how its such a nice warm day and gosh summer in NZ is just smashing.
I am seasonally confused.

Because the fate of the many may depend on a few....

Ohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigod!!!!!!!
I am already nearly peeing my pants with excitement.
Only six months to go...

All this time...

...I've just been a big ol' four-eyed ginge.
Who knew?

Tuesday morning Yin and Yang

On the upside:
There's a 15cm layer of snow over the world outside my window and everything's pretty.
I just did 35 situps and 25 pressups and a bunch of stretches and feel good.
The spiky kitchen window deathsicle is growing and making good photos.
In two weeks I will be finished all my work and can sleep all day.
Pitt and Outlaw are in love and engaged.
"The Bromley East Roller" is still a fucking rockin' tune.
I have great hair.

On the downside:
All my friends are going home for Christmas and I will be lonely.
I woke up screaming at 4am from a nightmare I can't remember and only had a toy tiger for comfort.

Live through this with me I swear that I will die for you

Yep, its the Hole post. I freaking LOVE Hole. Punk rock, motherfuckers!!! And I believe in sharing my love of things with everybody.
When I was 18 I went to Auckland to my very first Big Day Out because Hole were playing for 50 minutes. And damn, it was worth it. I had to get a second job for the sole purpose of paying for the airfares, because my normal activities in the university summer holidays involved doing sweet FA. But not in the summer of 94-95 (do the math, yes. That's really how old I am.) because that summer I was working in some crappy office in Lyttelton and saving every cent so I could see Hole live.

Yes, I know that in recent years Ms Love has lost it somewhat, what with the drugs, and some more drugs, and losing custody of her child, and getting ripped off by her dodgy accountant, and then some more drugs (step away from the crack pipe, Courtney!) but damn if she didn't make some killer records.

Take the very first Hole record, Pretty on the Inside. The title track is completely Punk, and not in a naff Green Day arsey "oh look we've got spiky hair we must be punk" kind of way, I mean in a screaming until your throat bleeds kind of punk. The good kind. The kind that allows you to channel all your pain and anger and shit and teen angst into one primitive wail. The cleansing kind.

Then of course, we have the second album. The sublime Live Through This. I was recently asked what five albums I couldn't live without, and this is definately one, but not in a "I love this record so much I must listen to it everyday or I'll simply die" kind of way. I mean that this record actually saved my life. OK, so it didn't jump out of the stereo and give me cpr, but I can honestly say that me surviving relatively unscathed through a particularly bleak period of my life has a lot to do with blasting this record so loud I completely shagged the speakers, and taking power from the fact that I could be angry instead of sad, that I could externalise it all and didn't have to take it all on myself, and the simple fact that the person speaking to me from this record sounded a lot like she knew what I was going through. And sometimes thats enough.
And then there's the lyrics. Unfortunately for Miss Courtney, this record was scheduled for release within a few days of her husband committing suicide. And when she sings things like "I made my bed I'll lie in it, I made my bed I'll die in it, I made my bed I'll cry in it" it gives one a little shiver. And her harsh wail on Gutless "You can try to suck me dry, but there's nothing left to suck, just you try to hold me down, come and try to shut me up".
Powerful stuff. Yes, I'm listening to it right now.
Doll Parts: "I want to be the girl with the most cake, I love him so much it just turns to hate, I fake it so real I am beyond fake, someday you will ache like I ache"

Then she got famous because of her dead husband when in reality she should have been famous for her awesome music and in my humblest of humble opinions I think Live Through This is superior to anything Nirvana did, and she made some movies, and got all glammed up but was still punk, and then Hole made Celebrity Skin.
This is a fine fucking record, don't get me wrong, and has some incredibly powerful songs, but it has a different meaning for me. Its the most radio friendly of the three records, I think Pretty on the Inside would probably cause most radios to fall apart, and there are some lyrics on this record that are just fucking amazing.
One of my favourites: Reasons to be Beautiful: "miles and miles of perfect skin, I swear I do I fit right in".
Petals, about the late Kristen Pfaff, former Hole bassist who od'ed three months after Cobain died: "she's the grace of this world, she's too pure, for the likes of this world, this world is a whore"
Playing Your Song: "I had to tell them you were gone, I had to tell them we were wrong, and now they're playing your song, they bought and sold it all its gone, they took it and they built a mall, and now they're playing your song"

And now that its past my bedtime I will leave you with the last word in this deranged fan-post from the lady herself. I'm off to bed now to dream of sweet loving.

Northern Star
And I cry and no one can hear
Inhale
The blinded eyes that see
The chaos
Bring the pitiful to me
Even though I’m wide-awake, I will
& blackest night & I will wait for you
It’s cold in here, there’s no one left
And I wait for you
And nothing stops it happening
And I knew, I’d cherish all my misery alone
And I wait staring at the northern star
I’m afraid it won’t lead me anywhere
He’s so cold, he will ruin the world tonight
All the angels kneel into the northern lights
Kneel into the frozen lights
And they paid, I cry and cry for you
Ghosts that haunt you with their sorrow
I cried cos you were doomed
Praying to the wound that swallows
All that’s cold and cruel
Can you see the trees, charity and gratitude
They run to the pines
It’s black in here, blot out the sun
And run to the pines
Our misery runs wild and free
And I knew, the fire and the ashes of his grave
And I wait staring at the northern star
I’m afraid it won’t lead you very far
He’s so cold, he will win the world tonight
All the angels kneel into the northern lights
Feel their hearts, they’re cold and white
And I want you
And blessed are the broken
And I beg you
No loneliness, no misery is worth you
Oh, tear his heart cold as ice
It’s mine
And I wait, praying to the northern star
I’m afraid it won’t lead you anywhere
He’s so cold, raining on the world tonight
All the angels kneeling to the northern lights
And I pray, begging to the northern star
I’m afraid it won’t lead you anywhere
He’s so cold, he will rule the world tonight
All the angels, kneeling to the northern lights
Kneeling to the frozen lights
Feel their hearts, they’re cold as ice

Practice, practice makes perfect

OK I'm trying really hard to do this retarded presentation for Wednesday that actually has to be ready to go by Monday and really by tomorrow at 2pm because me and my fellow geeks are having a practice run and Marie-Lou wants to bring bacardi and get drunk while we practice our presentations anyway I am trying to get it finished but am doing a completely pants job of it cos I'm really tired and want to go downstairs and cook although I'm only very mildly hungry but I've had a piece of chicken marinating in garlic and feijoa vodka for a few hours and I'm going to grill it and make me some saucy chicken salad action this is a really long sentence time for a rest. Phew.
Today I helped Marie-Lou move into her new house that she bought how grown up and then we ate pizza and then I went home and remembered I had to return a library book so I stomped through the snow to uni and then did my washing and scotchguarded my clogs and made my bed and sewed my pillow case up and had a wee snack and I'm hungry again go figure. Whenever I'm really hungry and getting stuck in to loads of food my mum says "Are you pregnant dear?" cos shes cheeky and I reply "chance would be a fine thing, Elizabeth" cos I'm cheeky too.
So, my presentation is retarded and is only three slides long so far, I am going to cook a chicken salad and it will be the shiznit because I am a fricking domestic goddess and then I'll probably watch Crossing Jordan or maybe 24 and get all blase about not doing my presentation and then maybe have a wee vodka and come back upstairs and piss about on the internet for a bit although nobody will have written anything cos its Saturday night and everybody is out having a life but I'm a graduate student in the last fortnight of semester so have no life until the 19th of December and even then all my friends will go home to their families for Xmas and I'm stuck here being a Christmas orphan loser so I will while away the remaining weekends of my twenties in my red trackpants and slippers eating chicken salad and being a sad cow. OK now it sounds like I'm all morbid and depressed, which I'm not, because quite frankly, how could you be depressed when you're me? Really.
However, I BADLY NEED A WEEKEND IN THE CITY!!!! ANY CITY WILL DO!!!
That New Years party in Brooklyn is looking pretty good right about now, I am in dire need of some serious partying. Martinis, my brown boots, a pretty skirt and lipstick, lots of dancing and many hot boys. Maybe some sightseeing during the day, a stroll through Battery Park, a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (I heart the Brooklyn Bridge) and some scrummy cafes, maybe a meal at Anthony Bourdain's restaurant (yes, I'm still stalking him, even though Fux cancelled Kitchen Confidential). Yep, I'm definately going to the city for a few days these holidays.
But now, vodka chicken.

As we speak...

...this is what's going on out my bedroom window. Yep, snow. And lots of it.
Its 4.30pm, and I'm going to have a nap.

Party on, Wayne.

I want to be the girl with the most cake, He only loves those things because he loves to see them break, I fake it so real I am beyond fake, Some day you will ache like I ache

This just in: I'm perfect.
Yep, I'm going to be quoting this.

Right. Its 1.22 am, and here is a brief sample of the 2071 words I have written since 5.30pm.

There exists the possibility of a type of reverse regression artefact as a threat to the internal validity of this study. It is conceivable that certain conflicts were selected for a particularly high-profile, ‘aggressive’ or comprehensive conflict management effort because it was extremely violent or prolonged. Such conflicts may have less chance of achieving a peaceful resolution than others.....
This study represents many of the difficulties encountered with social science research, in that many of the variables to be tested are not simply quantifiable, that no control group is available, that no pre-test is practically possible, and that a non-equivalent dependent variable is not available, given the nature of the context in which the treatment occurs. The experiment aims to conduct a multiple regression analysis of the above variables to discern a relationship.

No I didn't read it either.

So I'm sitting here and I notice that its officially Gracie's birthday. I have her phone number. Do you know how tempting it is to call her and sing happy birthday? Except I think she's now in Toronto which is the same time zone as me, and given that its nearly 1.30 am I think that would probably go down like an SS uniform at Prince Harry's costume party.

I went swimming this morning. I am a fish.
This is why Fishboy loves me.

ER was really good tonight, and STOP READING NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS it looks like from the preview of next week's episode that Luka and Abby finally come to their senses and live together and make babies until Sarah and I come along and they realise their true loves and Luka runs away with me and Abby runs off with Sarah I don't know how Ree will take this but she's fairly understanding I'm sure she'll be fine.

Holy red eye Batman I really need to sleep I have to get up at about 5am (yeah, right!!) to finish my loser proposal for this fucking course so then I can go to class at 9.30 am with proposal in hand and give to the prof and then have class and then meet with him after class so he can tear my proposal to shreds so then I can write a new one before Monday and turn it into a presentation with power point and everything but after my meeting Holly's coming to pick me up and we're going to the supermarket cos I'm running out of food and we need to go to the Chinese shop too cos I'm nearly out of chilli sauce and life without chilli sauce is no life I want to be living also the coconut milk at Wegmans sucks arse so maybe we should go to the Indian shop too and then I can go home and write my proposal again as above but with food and then on Saturday I'm helping Marie-Lou move house and on Sunday having a practice run for presentations. (breathe) Also Marie-Lou wants to get drunk this weekend because her kids are in India but I really don't have time, not for the drinking because there's always time for that I mean the hangover I'm losing it in my old age and can no longer handle the hangover jandal.

Anyone in my home town please go and visit my darling cousin who has had her sinuses regrouted or something. Poor wee possum. Sending love from the fine (cold) state of NY.

I was in class on Wednesday and one of my classmates comes up to me in the break and says "Hey Claire, I love your blog!"
Right, so I should not comment on classes or name professors or go saying what school I go to and maybe stop using my real name cos I don't want to get in big troubles with the uni and get kicked out for badmouthing people and lose funding or whatever and then I'll get deported which sounds pretty good right about now because its summer at home and my sister will have her kids at Dad's house and he'll have the pool going and the beer will be flowing and the BBQ cranked but still I came a long way to be Dr Claire so nobody go around saying Syracuse university will you. Oops.

1.44am. Wake up time in...T-minus 3.16