The next big thing? Not...

So I've registered my interest in being amongst the next batch of Optus Sound Scribes (no Birds next time- but on the plus side, at least I'll never have to endure seeing them with my bogan neighbours. Score!) However, given that it has only been a mere ten minutes since, in retrospect, I realise that there are numerous problems associated with my bandwagon jumping:

1. The next 'big band' will be the next 'big sell-out'. At least my lovely Birds have earned their place in the spotlight for a time (no matter how much it is to my selfish chagrin). But, let's just be frank- come next year, or next month, there will be another hype band to headline. Let's just thank fuck that it won't Powderfinger ever again.

2. I've learned that journalists- regardless of their speciality- are amongst the lowest paid individuals ever. Everybody suffers for their art, but upon learning the measly sum that trainee journalists receive per annum, I decided to study education instead- which is proving a hindrance considering I'm starting to like the sound of joining the police force (only I don't drive- fuuuuuck!).

3. I'm an overly ambitious person who is also rather proud. No matter how well known an individual or 'celebrity' is compared to me, I'll still consider myself equal or superior to them. I might as well be the one being interviewed given my egotisticalism (is that even a word?). Let's face it, music journalism- no matter how decent my linguistic skills- will be a little bit of a step backward.

4. I'm with Telstra. Damndamndamndamndamndamndamn!
I may just stick to occasional freelancing and leave it at that. I have slightly higher aspirations, I suppose.

Eep.

I don't recall wanting to die of embarrassment so badly.

You see, I live with the most careless and assuming house guest. She befriends those decades younger than her out of desperation, and then assumes she can bring them back to the house. Currently the house is in a state of...well...mess. She doesn't care in the slightest! She's an embarrassment to this house, and half of the mess is her doing.

FUCK YOU DION.

Cheaper than Therapy

Given that it's been months since I've last been on here, not surprisingly I've forgotten how on earth my current background came to my current background and other things. Odd.

Today: Nothing profound learned. Unfortunate.

This evening: Some excellent wine, and, after much panic and confusion, the discovery tha my Birds of Tokyo photo book was actually in my bookcase the whole time and not in the recycling as thought. Apologies and thanks to anyone who went digging through it for me!

It's exam time! If you can call a lone exam anything special, that is...

Uh...

Well...

I'll get a life, and let all know how that goes, all in good time!

X!

Sometimes when the world stops turning

Most have never experienced the divisive sensation of ambivalence. It's not pleasant. It's disgusting. Wanting to hug and slap someone simultaneously very nearly qualifies you as a nutcase. It's easily the worst mindfuck ever. It gets even worse when mixed with strong feelings of indifference- seemingly impossible, but I'm feelin' it. Aack. Well, enough is enough; it doesn't bother me if the trigger is not present.

There's no much to report. I'm doing some insight reading into some old photographs, and it's conflicting terribly with information I was once told. It's confusing. It's not my problem, but I'm worried about what..or rather, who...it concerns. I don't know them; I'll probably never meet them, but I'm worried about them.

Well...
Well...
My canary looks tired. I want to keep watching Ponyo...but Good News Week is attracting my attention. Uh oh.

X!

Diving straight into the deep end.

Even in creating this, I've realised how ridiculous my penchant for the font 'Verdana' is.

For the time being, this is going to be a severe restriction on my creativity. I suppose it's comparable to when I initially made a Myspace profile, although at this age I shouldn't be so confused by this.

Oh well.

It's late. I've had a great deal of thoughts run through my head, although none have really lasted all that long. Work beckons tomorrow, and the only thing (well, things) that has really made me laugh and grin like a wicked little girl is a list I've made of aims for the end of the year.

As one can see, the ambition sparkles off the screen.

BY THE END OF THIS YEAR, I WILL:
Have grown my hair to a nice, respectable length
Have learned to keep a better hold on my tongue, or else be confined to a scold's bridle (you have my solemn word, I promise)
Have bought a Nintendo DS/Dsi with a Triforce on it
Have bought an iPod, or similar device that is capable of holding a HEAP of audial bliss
Have not failed more than one University subject (haha)
Have bought a cheap, yet decent bass, or steal one from a friend, then convince them to provide me with lessons
Quit lollipops.

Oh, and have had fun, I suppose.

I'd like to rant on, but fatigue is setting in. NOOOOOOOOOOOO! There goes my earlier plans to play Twilight Princess and watch Ponyo down the toilet.

Good night to the zero people reading this. I shall berate you all later.

Big Love

X!