Dorky McDorkster of Dorksville, New York

Last night, in a flash of brilliance, I decided upon my Halloween costume.
Now I have a month to lose about 35 pounds....she says, while munching on a delicious lunch of paneer and pilau....

Sunday all of my demons rest....






Felix is Lord of All He Doth Survey, while Cat Dooku likes to help me read my methods homework and look cute.

Two things*....

Firstly, I can't go to Toronto this weekend thanks to circumstance, finance and some other ances.
Poos and wease, but hey. We have survived far worse things than this, although the prospect of a dodgeball tournament is rather appealing.
The plus side is however, that my beloved Holly is going away for the weekend so I will be looking after Felix and Cat Dooku the mega-kitties, so cute kitty photos will likely appear in the near future.

Secondly, yesterday I bought quite possibly the coolest sheet of stamps EVER!!, as you can probably see.

Thirdly, I am still in my jammies at 3.30pm.

* And by two I of course mean three

Driving away from the wreck of the day and the lights always red in the rear view

I have just watched the final of Grey's Anatomy yes I know its old news but its the only chance I've had to see it. And when I say "just" I mean it finished 40 minutes ago, and I still can't get a hold of myself.
I knew what was going to happen and I had prepared myself for it, but this was a whole unexpected level of effect, it hit me far below the standard sad television finale level, this one hit me way deep in levels I haven't been to for a long time, deep dark parts of my brain where my childhood memories reside and where I keep the knowledge of the names of colours and down deep in my emotional core do you want to call it my heart? Where I remember what it was like to finally kiss the man I was in love with when I was 23 and where I keep the smell of my baby niece's hair and the sound of my four-years-gone dog's bark.
I have spent the twenty minutes in the shower, sitting on the floor hugging my knees and sobbing, letting the water wash over me in the hope it will in some way pull me together but that didn't work and so I tried to figure out why it was that I was so affected by a TV programme, whose ending I already knew.

I miss human touch.
I hate to stand in queues because I feel the people in front and behind me are imposing on my personal space, and I have been known to shout at people in bars who touch me, even when the bar is full. I hate being touched, in short. I am very protective of my personal space and get VERY antsy when its invaded.

Yet still, the more I think about it, the one thing I absolutely crave is the touch of someone who loves me.
I'm not talking about sex necessarily, I am so accustomed to living without that I think that part of my brain has ceased to work. What I mean is simple human contact with people who love me. A hug from my Dad, one of the kids sitting on my knee, the way my mum will always try to fix my permanently messy hair. When I'm at home I don't really notice my single status, but in the last couple of weeks I've really noticed it.
When I was away in the cabin last weekend, my friend was there with his girlfriend. While we were sitting around the fire after dinner, she had her foot sitting on his knee, and he was absentmindedly playing with it.
When I saw it, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

I think it was a similar thing that hit me about Grey's Anatomy tonight. Izzy and Denny to be specific. She loved him, he loved her, it was simple and true and she potentially sacrified her career to save his life, and then he died. I can see the image in my head, of Izzy in her pink frock lying on the bed with Denny, and it sets me off again.
Maybe I'm lonely, I don't know. I always thought I had moved beyond that, at my age one would hope that I had, but perhaps I was wrong.
Perhaps I am so deeply affected by a television programme because I am desperately in need of some human company beyond school.
Perhaps I need to be discussing this over martinis with my girlfriends instead of in a blog.
But right now all I can say is that I would give almost anything to wake up to someone who loves me.

I shouldn't have to post a warning here, the fact that I am putting these uncharacteristically honest words out there should be sufficient caution to not make smart arsed comments about offering to shag me or accusations of being emo or the fact its just a freaking television programme.
The words are out of my head now and so I can sleep. Thats all I hoped for.

AAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!

News just to hand: television is evil.
Tonight at 10pm is last season's finale of Grey's Anatomy on ABC. The season finale that I didn't see here because I was in NZ, and didn't see in NZ because it played the week after I got back here.
AT THE SAME TIME on CBS is the new season premiere of CSI: NY, which I am not ashamed to say, I freaking love.

Now a normal person would record one and watch the other, right? But given that I don't have any of this poncy flash tivo nonsense, in fact I barely have a functioning television, I am unable to do that.

fuckarseshitcuntybollockstitwankfuckityfucksticksbuggeration.

I would be so screwed if I ever had to make a real decision in my life.

You wanna win a war? Like PLO don't surrender

In a display of utter geekery, Claire reveals concern that one of her professors doesn't think shes all that and a packet of crisps.

IT WORRIES ME, OKAY!!!!

We all go on about how we couldn't give a flying fuck if some cunt we don't care about doesn't like us, but I want all my profs to love me! Its important that they love me, because when it comes to marking my work, and its late at night, and they have already graded ten papers, and they get to mine, I don't want them to think "Ah, fuck her, shes loud and annoying and I'm tired and bored she can have a B-" I want them to think "Oh, she's so funny and clever and cute, heres an A".
Note: yes I am aware that I have to do work of an appreciable standard to get the As. I want the love too.

AND THEN...... instead of doing the readings for Thursday's class in keeping with the aforementioned appreciable standard of work, Claire settles back in her chair to watch Battlestar Galactica.

Put your clock back for the winter...

POST NUMBER 500 MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!


And so to celebrate, here is me with horns. This pic is weird because I undid the red-eye thing and it made my eyes go strange they're actually blue but you can't tell from that picture I had to share that with you because I am so vain.
We are also celebrating something else today: the fact that I didn't get eaten by bears in the woods. Yippee.

Ithaca is SO much nicer than this shithole town, so I think I might move there.

Dear Cornell University
Your town is so much nicer than Syracuse, I would like to live there in one of those cute little houses up on the hill. Therefore, please give me a scholarship equivalent to the one I have now, although about 50% more would be nice too. I promise to work really hard and be a very good student and not shag any professors.
Cheers.
Smoochies, Claire

We went to a cabin about 20 minutes south of Ithaca, built by a former Zoology professor, who evidently rejoiced in the glory of his chosen field by shooting animals and putting their heads up on the wall. It was a very lovely room of death. Much fun was had however, despite the all pervading stench of gratuitious death.

Ok so I think I will go to Toronto next weekend for Blodgeball because I am a gigantic dork and don't have any real life friends outside of the internets also, way to get out of the US at the first available opportunity I love Canada I know they don't play cricket but they're still like one of us because they have the Queen on their money also I have visions of snogging a mountie.
Also, the idea of hitting people with balls appeals to me greatly. Maybe I should take a bag of wrenches for practice?
All I need now is a ride there and a place to stay.

Go craigslist

Look out bears

Going to get in a car in half an hour and go to a cabin in the mountains for the night to get eaten by bears.
A bunch of students in the mountains overnight....sounds like the perfect setting for a horror film.

Play nicely while I'm gone.

Don't you just hate it when....

....you're sitting in class talking about something completely un-sexy and all of a sudden out of the blue all random styles have I emphasised the unexpectedness of it all sufficiently a really filthy thought crosses your mind and while it does surprise you somewhat especially with the previously emphasised random nature of it its also kind of a nice surprise cos you've got all these lovely filthy thoughts swimming around in your head and they make you feel all delicious and dirty in a good way but you also have to deal with the fact that these thoughts have about twenty seconds to get the fuck out of your head because you have to talk sensibly and informedly about stuff that is about as unsexy as a really unsexy thing and its late and I can't think of a sufficiently unsexy thing that does justice to the unsexiness of the subject matter without casting aspersions upon the inherent value of discussing said subject matter anyway my point is don't you hate it when these things jump into your head at just the wrong moment and you have to focus on something else completely when what would be really nice is to be left alone with your lovely thoughts but maybe thats the point life as I continue to find never ceases to be interesting what with its random thoughts and all the other stuff ok going to watch dvds now goodnight.

ps maybe i will go to Toronto next weekend....

Flick Her

I have a Flickr account. I have yet to put a link on this here blog, or figure out all the flash bloggy flickry stuff that goes with it, but I'm sure you can figure out. Just search Flickr for people with the same name as me. My first two names, anyway.

Ok time for bed.
Smoochies.

Local boy, neighbourhood, easy as the breeze in springtime, he don't talk too much. When he does the whole room gets luminous

I have just had a moment of sheer brilliance!!.....actually its a fairly average idea, but any idea after midnight that is neither drink nor drug fuelled is a rarity.

I am doing a course on politics of the developing world, and its really interesting, and the major requirement is a final research/reflection paper, focusing on a particular paradigm or concept that we have discussed in class. Paradigms and concepts to be discussed include modernity, colonialism, post-colonialism, Westernisation, development, development as Westernisation, political economies of development and globalisation, and the import and export of political models.

Soooo....here is my idea. Seeing as how I will be reading all this really interesting stuff, and get to choose the topic for my final paper, and will have to write it anyway....

HELLO DISSERTATION PROPOSAL!!!!!!

Is that allowed? *crosses fingers*

"Smell is a potent wizard that transports across thousands of miles and all the years we have lived"

There is something stinky in my room.
No Tim, its not my feet.
Unless my feet all of a sudden smell like a mixture of red curry powder, cumin, cayenne, nutmeg, garam marsala and possibly star anise, that have been dryfried and left a little bit too long in the pan.
Its one of those annoying smells that tickles the back of one's throat, and is really starting to do my loaf.

So, now I am about to turn my room upside town in an attempt to find it, and destroy!!!
Updates likely to follow.

"Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more"

Dreadful news!!!!
There has been a tragic death in the family!!!!

I got a rather upsetting text from my sister last night which delivered the bad news..... after many years of faithful service and despite the best in medical attention, my sister's cretaceous-era desktop computer has finally died.

Gone the way of the dodo.
Deader than a dead thing two weeks after the funeral.
Partying beyond the Pearly Gates with Dudley Moore and Allen Ginsberg.
Exhibiting as much life as the front row of a Genesis concert.
Ceased to be.
Expired and gone to meet its maker.
Kicked the bucket, shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.
Bereft of life, it rests in piece....

Ok so its only a computer, but thanks to the wonders of Skype it was also the easiest way to talk to her and her kids, plus talking computer to computer is free, and given that I am as poor as a church mouse whose just received a huge tax bill the day after his wife ran off with another mouse and took all the cheese....(heehee three guesses as to what I've been watching), free stuff is about all thats within my budget.

So we say PANTS to that, and cross our fingers that some nice person will buy my lovely sister a lovely new computer very soon.

P.S. Little Miss Sunshine is freaking awesome and thoroughly gorgeous and we loves it so the three of you who have yet to see it GO NOW!!!
P.P.S Oh what a lot of links.

SNOOCHIES!!!!!

I am so fucking tired, I can't understand it.
For the last few days I've had this ouchie type pain on my right side, and my nurse-in-training flatmate says there is a big ol' muscle that goes from beneath one's shoulderblades round the ribcage kind of area, sort of holds everything together as it were. Anyway, this ouchie pain in my side is probably a muscle type thing, and in lieu of a deep tissue massage, I had a muscle relaxant.
Not that I normally have serious dopey type drugs hanging around the house but, I got these from the doc last year cos of back pain from being wonky and all, and HOLY FLOPPY BUNNY EARS BATMAN they do tend to knock one out a little.
And now its 6.44pm and I still feel all dozy.
Is this what relaxed people feel like all the time? All weird and....floppy.

And, the other news is that we have been preliminary, albeit grudging, landlord approval for our adoption plans.

Ok bye.

ShitFuckArseTwatBollocksTitWankCuntyPissBuggeryFucksticks

Is currently 11.06pm.
In 12 hours I need to be in class for an hour and a half, followed by three hours of class, followed by 3 hours of class.

I haven't done readings for class #1, but its ok cos I'm the TA and have 3 degrees and a graduate diploma so am well experienced in Making Shit Up.

In class #2 I am doing a 25 minute presentation on metageographical concepts as discourses of power. So far I have done the reading and written 3 pages of wank that I plan on delivering, peppered with anecdotes about how I am awesome.

Class #3 requires one to submit notes on the readings "the day before" class. That would mean today. I am thus far operating on the standard "If I haven't been to bed then its still the same day" m.o.
The readings, incidentally, are 232 pages of democratic theory, 14 pages of something I haven't read yet, and 17 pages of something else I haven't read either, although the latter is by Dahl, and in my experience he repeats himself a lot, so maybe I can get it down to 3 or 4 pages.

And so why am I blogging about it instead of sucking it up and doing the work?
Ummm.....

A happy day for crocodiles everywhere....

Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter is dead

All those years chasing crocs, and he gets done in by a stingray.....poor bastard.
RIP Crocodile Hunter.

My Dad is convinced crocs the world over will be mightily pissed off they didn't get the last word in but....