Sunday, October 30, 2005

And another thing...

Daylight savings started last night. Just thought you might like to know that.

For those people that didn't read the bottom corner of page 343 of yesterdays paper.

It's not like changing the whole time scale might warrant any publicity or anything, I mean I heard it third hand from a passing Japanese motorist.

I just didn't want any of you to be late for work.

Or picking up your drycleaning...

miss you so much!

Just so there is no confusion, the title of this post is the result of AutoComplete in forms.

Last night I had the options of going to the Arthouse to see the Backseat Romeos, or the Poppin Mommas, Dung and the Meanies at the Espy, or the Highball Burlesque at Salon Kitty.

I trisected these three venues, and stayed home and had an early night. It proved to be the best choice. Not to say that I wouldn't have minded any one or even all three, but...

Chne heh.

And I just saw famous comedian Dave Hughes outside in Acland St. He just got dropped off in this beaten up old Ford Telstar. I wonder if that was part of his act?

Friday, October 28, 2005

Reformation

Tonight, I'm going to go home and disassemble myself from the head down.

And when I put myself back together, there will not be any more blowing of smoke or strange pinging sounds. And all the parts will be well lubricated and move freely in their housings.

I've done it many times before without any instructions.

And there is always a bolt or a washer left over.

Never to be replaced.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Messy night

Working some very odd shifts last week has left my body clock in a state of disarray.

Friday night I didn't get home until 5am. But the sad thing was I had just finished work. I only had about 3 or 4 hours of sleep, because there is a skylight in my room that prevents any sleep after about 10am. So I forced myself up, and went for a walk around Fitzroy Gardens. It's really nice there, reminds me of the botanical gardens in Adelaide. And the weather was great. Overcast warm with just a hint of breeze. Always feels so surreal and dreamy.

I found myself in the city at GoGo sushi, because I was craving something healthy. And a couple of green teas left me pretty spaced. I ended up at work again. Whoops! How did I get there? Free internet and phone possibly?

Anyway it started to rain and I was glad that I was inside, and when it cleared I rode my bike home for a couple of hours sleep before heading out.

My local is grauB. They've got a cheap pool table and the beers are inexpensive. The girl that manages it Kerry? is a sweetie. she always surprises with a packet of chips or a complementary drink. And she has great taste in music. It was good to hear them play some Archers. You just don't hear that in a pub. Anywhere.

Anyways, I met up with a guy that I'd met when I first came over, and we ended up at the Perserverence on Brunswick. And after a few scotch and drys, Alia Bar again. I don't know why I ended up here again, but I guess it's open late and close to home. So, home at 5am again.

I was going to go to the gym, but when the alarm went off, I was still pissed, so went back to sleep.

And when I went to empty my pockets, I found a packet of beer nuts and one of those sleeping blindfold mask things.

In all a good night. You can always tell how good your night has been by what you find in your pockets the next day.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Pisces

There are some great astrology sites on the web.

Like this one, and this one

And it's worth remembering that astrology is the oldest science in the world dating back more than 5000 years.

Therefore it must be true.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Breaking news...

My planned return to SA has been delayed by a month. The person designed to take my place here in the cartography department didn't get the job.

It's a good thing I hadn't given notice at home, or I'd be sleeping under the projector in the boardroom....

It's not all bad news, I'll have a bit of time to save some money, get my radiator fixed and enjoy living in the fair city of Melbourne a little longer. And the weather is sweet right now.

But I'll see if I can get back to Adelaide before then anyhow.

Hmm,.... I feel like a lemon squash.

Beating the curve

I got an O+ for my blood test.

It's the most common type, found in 40% of the population.

Why was I hoping for something a little more exotic?

Another wasted night

Well Friday night found me almost penniless, yet somewhat restless. I just wanted to get out of it, so I went down to the Union Club for a couple of wines. I was gonna get some food too, but that would have taken up valuable real estate. And a guy that I had met previously was there, so we played doubles with a couple of cute girls, and things started getting competitive. So we swapped partners, (ooooh how risque) and started playing for Cowboy shots.

It's another peculiarity about Melbourne. Everyone loves to play for drinks.

Not that I was complaining. I was winning after all.

We ended up at Alia Bar which is one of the countless nightclubs in Fitzroy. Nothing special about it, another faceless DJ, many 'beautiful' people.

But the lack of sleep and the many drinks had caught up with me. I sat on a couch and tried to regain my bearings. It could have been half, 1, 2 or three hours. But I was OK after that.

And after an in-depth and somewhat heated discussion on the merits of Pete Murray as a serious artist/performer, I decided to stumble home at 5am.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Syrup

Sometimes...

A voice,

Dripping with

Syrup,

Unexpected...

Is

All

It

Takes

To

Put Fire in your

heart
...

Adieu, Adieu!!

It wasn't a tough choice. I almost jumped at the chance.

I'll be moving back to SA on November 3. About 3 weeks time, just in case you didn't have a calendar on you. The day after the Melbourne cup long weekend (Here in Melbourne anyhow).

Things have worked out almost perfectly for me career-wise over here, but from a social perspective it could be so much more. In a way I think it'll be a blessing.

So I'll be living somewhere in the Barossa at first. I'll save $600 a month in rent, because accommodation is paid for, and I'll get a living away from home bonus as well. Even though I'm technically at home.

I'll miss Smith Street though.

I knocked off early from work, and headed down to get some spaghettini (I'm such a yuppie. None of that spaghtetti for me. Only peasants eat that ;) )

I was sitting there eating away, and some scruffy looking guy comes in. And the trendy lady asks him what he wants.

He says nothing, but helps himself to a jug of water sitting on the bar and pours himself a glass. He drinks it down, and then stumbles off toward the door. He puts the glass on the floor by the door, and heads off into the bustle.

It's just so random, that you have to dig it. Expect the unexpected.

I reckon I'll definitely be back here when the work finishes though. And this time I know what I'm up against. I'll do it properly next time.

Next time.

FIN

Sunday, October 09, 2005

What time is it?

"Where are my pills?" "What time is it?"

"It's quarter to three."

Every day it's the same. Except sometimes it's not quarter to three. Sometimes its six thirty.

Or nine fifteen.

And then we go on talking.

"So you were thinking of moving the couch."

"Huh?"

My flatmate has epilepsy. And she has seizures nearly everyday. We'll be sitting there talking about some trivial matter, when suddenly her eyes lose focus and this look of panic crawls across her face like a beetle.

"What time is it?"

"Where are my pills?"

And for a brief few seconds she becomes infused with daemons that take over her body.

I remember it happened to my Oma once shortly before she died. And a chill ran up my spine that was quite eerie.

Normally her palsy lasts for a few seconds and her head and arms twitch, and she continues with her rantings. And slowly, you can see her regain control of her senses. And she has no recollection of any of her short term memory. In fact it's not until you actually tell her that she had a seizure that she even realizes that she has had one.

It's quite surreal.

The first time it happened, I didn't know that she was epileptic, and when I asked my other flatmate, she said:

"Oh, yeah I forgot to tell you, but don't worry about it, it's nothing serious."

The problem is that now it is becoming serious.

Her seizures are increasing in regularity. And while the ones she has during the day are not very bad, apparently the worst ones she has are at night. While she is asleep. She has no recollection of these either, but when she wakes up, she knows because she feels like she has been hit by a bus. Every muscle in her body hurts, and she has ulcers in her mouth from where she has bitten her gums.

And she has them at the gym, and at work. And she is still driving, which I personally think is a bit wrong.

And the reason for this epilepsy is a congenital defect of her brain. It's something that she only started having at the age of twenty-four. And medication has been able to help her thus far. Unfortunately she is not responding to the drugs anymore and surgery is her only option.

It's all pretty fucked up. The surgery would be in her brain stem, and there is a strong chance that she could lose part or all of her sight. Or worse.

You don't want to go monkeying about in there. It'd be like a game of Operation, except the risks would be a bit greater than a buzzer and a flashing red nose.

"It's okay though because I'll be able to count my flatmates to look after me."

But where does the responsibility of flatmate end?

Is it having help with the rent? Is it a shoulder to cry on after a long day at work? Or is it spoon feeding them and wiping their arse?

It seems that these things always happen at the most inconvenient time. I was just about to tell her that I was thinking about moving back to SA.

I really wouldn't want to be in her shoes at the moment. And I can tell that she is scared. I would be feeling the same way.

She has been going out a lot lately. Not the best thing for her condition. But I think she's just trying to cram as much fun as she can into the next few months. If there was a high possiblity that I would have only a few months left of normal life, I might do the same thing.

There is every chance that after her operation (which hasn't yet been confirmed) that she would be left paralysed or needing months or years of rehab, reprogramming her speech and learning to walk.

And you wouldn't even know that she had it if you passed her in the street.

So that's the story.

Should I let this new variable affect my decision? Or should I be a selfish cunt and move out?

Friday, October 07, 2005

Decisions, Decisions...

I hate making decisions. I always have the feeling that it's a matter of life and death...

The boss just asked me if I would be interested in relocating to Adelaide to work on a job mapping powerlines.

Ha!

I'm certainly interested.

Despite the fact that I've just relocated from Adelaide... and blown a fortune in the process of getting here, it might be nice to spent a bit of time touring about SA. Good to catch up with Darren and the old gang.

The only thing is that the boss doesn't really want to lose me from the project that I'm on now either. I told him as much, but I don't mind where I'm working just as long as I'm doing something. I'm such a job-slut. And I was just about to start mapping a new railroad line in the Murray Mallee, that I was quite looking forward to.

The new contract would be for 10-12 months working 6 days a week, and I'll be living in a house with maybe 3 workmates with all accomodation paid for.

It'd be a great way to save some cash. Although I'd still be paying rent where I'm living now despite not actually living there.

This could be my chance to become a hero and win plaudits and adulation from my fellow co-workers and broaden my skills base and job prospects to the point where my cv would look quite sexy.

And having the home ground advantage would certainly help.

But I am only just getting into the swing of Melbourne.

I have until Monday to let him know...

Any ideas?

Thursday, October 06, 2005

3 things that happened in Melbourne in 24 hours

(1) Bloodsport

Last night riding home from work at the ungodly time of 11pm, I was pedalling up Flinders Street with a tummy full of tasty Kashmiri chicken and assorted pickles and conserves, when I felt my spider-senses tingling. They always seem to tingle around this part of town... Just out the front of the Flinders Station.

The last time, there was some drunk guy yelling at me to "chuck a mono". After I declined his invitation, he then yelled that I was the "worst bike rider ever." That was just rude and hurtful. By the way, he wasn't making such a great pedestrian either :)

There was trouble up ahead. A van had stopped in the traffic, and I pulled into the traffic to go around. I could hear two strapping young twenty-somethings shouting expletives and flapping their arms about like a couple of seabirds fighting over that last greasy yet nutritious chip.
And between them was more pink-polo-top-with-upturned-collar-ness than one could bear to watch. Not that I could see much because the van was blocking my way.

As I came up around the other side of the van, I could see a few fists being thrown about, none of which were hitting any targets. But,... one of the bemulleted youths was sprawled over the bonnet of the oncoming van, leaving the poor driver with ringside streets at an unexpected bloodsport in the comfort AND privacy of his own vehicle.

I didn't hang around to see what happened, but I suspect that hair was messed up, and girlfriends may have screamed. And I didn't stay around to see who won, but I don't think either of them did.

(2) Trip to IKEA

I saw this particularly nifty workstation for my desktop that would fit great in the little nook at the bottom of the stairs.

I rang them to find out if they could send one over because my car was out of action.

After waiting on the phone while the pre-recorded message went through the rigours of trying to piss me off, I was finally put through to a human being to finish the job.

I was told rather indignantly that all purchases must be made in store. And delivery is $35 if within 5 km and $65 if between 5-10 km.

Convenient.

That's nearly as much as what the furniture costs.

So I had to get the car fixed, and went down to pick one up. I couldn't really complain about the service because there wasn't any :)

And I suppose that's why they make the prices so low.

But anyway, I'll have fun tomorrow morning trying to bolt it all together. Lets just hope that it turns out like the one in the picture.

(3) Celebrity sighting

I saw Nicole Kidman at Safeway.

And she had her hair the same way as in BMX Bandits. Tight little orange curls.

Tasty.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Depression

Whoa, this is a big post.

I thought I'd write a bit about my experiences with it. And if people get anything out of it, then so be it. Otherwise I hope it's an entertaining read? It's pretty psyched out stuff, so if you are easily freaked out, just continue on with your daily doings.

Depression.

There's a LOT of it going around at the moment. And not just with me. It's not nice when someone you know has it either. There's not a lot you can do to help them. It's about battling with your personal demons.

Noone else can help you with it because they don't understand it. And no amount of kind words or nice thoughts, well wishes or hugs can stop it. Sure it might feel nice for a little while, and it can certainly help. But as soon as they're gone, you're just sitting there with your brain once again. Sad but true.

The only one that can help you deal with it is yourself.



Let me take you back to the year 1992. The year punk broke.

I was in high school. Year 10 I think. All the other kids in the class were total dicks, and used to pick on me for one reason or another. Mainly because they didn't understand who I was, and I couldn't be bothered trying to explain myself to them.

Ha, like they would have got it anyway.

But anyway, there was this one other guy in my class. Nathaniel. And we struck up a pretty good acquaintance. He was a bit of a loner, and pretty quiet and so I guess we just naturally gravitated towards each other.

We had a lot in common. An appreciation of music. We'd talk about our favourite bands of the time: U2, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd.

And he was always sitting there in class (when he turned up) and drawing caricatures and tripped out pictures on his notebook, whilst the teacher droned on about something or other. And I bored him senseless with my stories about my favourite girl of the week and how I wanted to kiss her so much and that I was going to marry her :)

He also made music. He had an Amiga and he had a cheap strat copy that he could play a few chords on. So I thought he was pretty cool.

And we were both the rebellious typoe I guess. I hated science class because if you didn't end up with 27 spitballs in your hair or recieve threats of violence, you were doing well. So, he invited me around to his house around the corner as a more appealing alternative. Sounded like fun. So I went.

As soon as we left the school grounds, he lit up a smoke. And I had one too. And we descended into the housing trust area of Midlunga.

His house was a half of a housing trust maisonette. You see them in the Parks area of Adelaide or Port Augusta or Whyalla. I haven't seen them anywhere else, but if you know what they look like, you'd understand. And there was that smell in the air. The one that you can smell if you walk down Mersey Road on a summers night.

A cross between fish'n'chips, laundromats, burnt tea, burning eucalyptus wood and lounges that have been left on the veranda for more than one winter.

We went around the side of the house and threw our school bags through the window.

I asked why we didn't go through the door, but it seemed like a rhetorical question. The front door was dead bolted and the back screen hung on its hinges.

BEWARE OF DOG

As I slid through the back gate, I was beset upon by two of the largest dogs I have ever seen. I still don't know what they were, but they backed off when they heard the magic word

"Gitouuuuuuuuuuuuuttt"

So I went through the back door, and his dad was there stirring baked beans on an old gas stove. And he said little. He didn't ask why his son was home, just stood there stirring his beans and listening to the wireless. It was the first at Globe Derby Park. Or somesuch.

As I looked around and took it all in, there were holes in the carpet, and hadn't been washed since it was laid. Holes in the walls, and lots and lots of cats. The dogs circled me like sharks, growling and making me feel very uncomfortable.

Inside his room, there was a Led Zeppelin poster. The one from Houses of the Holy.
And a bong on the floor.

He fired up the Amiga and we had played a few games. I don't remember what they were but I was suitably impressed. I was still in very strange territory however. I had always wondered what it was like inside a poor persons house.

In my family, my mum would do housework everyday. Everything was clean and dusted. Three meals a day.

But this was totally different. I was intrigued. I wanted to experience it all, as wrong and as dirty as it felt.

"Have you ever tried this?"

And he produced a small pillow of greenery in a plastic J-bag.

"No", "What do you do with it?"

"Well you just smoke it through this."

So I tried it. And I sat there for a while, and we played some more Amiga.

"I don't think it's working, I don't feel anything"

And then in three minutes or less, I started to feel something. I had this pleasant buzzing in my mouth. Like I'd swallowed a mouthfull of bees. And I couldn't stop laughing. There was a dog in a nighting gown running across the computer screen like he was sleepwalking. With his arms out in front of him.

When you're a kid you think people do that when they sleepwalk.

"You should try this then."

And he produced a yellow bucket full of dirty looking water with a 2 litre coke bottle floating in side.

And he busied himself with it while I continued playing. It was that game where you were the driver of a stunt car, and you had to do vertical loops. Someone out there might remember it. It was in the arcade too I think.

Anyway, I took a toke of this Gravity bong or buckety as its known in the 'burbs.

And I don't know what happened after that.

My pulse rate went way up. I was jumping out of my own skin. People were talking to me, but I wasn't aware of what they were saying. I felt like i was in a cinema by myself watching everything happen around me on a giant screen.

I didn't want to be there all of a sudden. I didn't want to be anywhere. I just wanted it all to stop.

I got outside, and the winter sun was warm but there was a chill in the air. I walked towards my house, though I don't even know how I knew where I was going. Everything that I did required immense concentration.

There was a throbbing in my head. It felt like it was coming from the base of my spine and travelling up my neck into my pituitary gland. I had these visions that I was being impaled. On the devil's pitchfork. And I couldn't shake these thoughts.

As I walked down the street, I saw a woman with a pram. I saw an old couple. I was convincing myself that I was watching my life unfold before me. Like I was dead.

Like I was dead.

It suddenly dawned on me that I was dead.

Even though I wasn't.

But I couldn't help thinking that I might be. And with every thought, it seemed like the logical conclusion. And when you are in that state, you can't convince yourself otherwise. You just can't.

I cannot begin to express the terror that I felt at that moment. The regret,... it was overwhelming.

In hindsight, I think the fact that I had been to a Christian forum at my school recently had me thinking a bit about the metaphysical, and this was brought to

And I got home, and Mum was there, and everything was normal. I was relieved when she talked to me, because it confirmed in my mind somewhat that I might just be imagining things. Plus, I didn't want her to see me in this state, so I went to bed. And tried to sleep.

But the pictures kept repeating themselves in my mind. It was agony.



When I woke up, things had returned to normal somewhat. I was thirsty, and very cloudy. But I was somewhat relieved. Things seemed to be normal again. The only problem was I could never see things the same way again. I had been tarnished. And no matter what happened to me, there would always be that horror in the back of my mind.

For the next three months, I noticed things. And if things were different, I would be very suspicious.

"Didn't that tree used to be smaller?"

"Didn't the sun used to be higher in the sky?"

I don't know if anyone else could tell, but I was very suspicious and paranoid about everything.

I was restless, I always went for walks around the block just to check if everything was still as I remembered it.



One night I walked to a family friends house, and just lost it. I was a sobbing mess. And the more I tried to make them understand what I was feeling, the more they seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. And I cried for hours. I calmed down after awhile, and I had a cup of camomile. I was numb. And that felt so better than what I had been feeling for three weeks.

My mum came to get me at about 11pm that night. It was very embarassing and I couldn't explain to her what I was feeling.

The thing that I remember the most about that time is the music I was listening to. Pink Floyd - The dark side of the moon. I couldn't listen to that for years because it brought all the feelings back. All great tunes, but they were wasted on me.


I remember after this had happened sitting in a bath robe in the lounge looking at the dog and asking him pleadingly what was wrong with me. It wasn't fair. Here he was looking dumb and disinterested and yet totally content. I wanted to know how to be like him. I knew too much.

The psychiatrist prescribed me a little jar of blue tablets. And they worked amazingly. They brought me from the depths of despair back to reality. In a few weeks. I think how lucky I was.

It took me until I was in university to understand it better.

There was a guy in my class I remember, and in retrospect, I think he suffered from bi-polar syndrome. I remember seeing him one day, and he was manically happy. I had never seen him like that before, and I was amazed. He told me that he suffered from depression and I was shocked.

How can someone so depressed be this happy?

He told me he had been reading a book called "Feeling Good" by David Burns.

And I went out and bought it that day.

It was all about cognitive therapy and understanding the difference between your feelings and your emotions. And it teaches you how to disassociate what you think and what you feel. There's a bit of L Ron Hubbard about it for sure, but read it and then be the judge.

Anyway I found it very helpful, and I recommend it to anyone that suffers from depression. I don't want to spoil the ending.

But there are a lot of great books out there.

And I wonder what I would have been like if I hadn't gone to that house on that day. If I had gone to a different school...

It's changed my brain chemistry. For sure.

To think, I never even had a clue what depression was until this point. But now that I have seen it, I can't forget it. Not entirely.

And the funny thing is that you can be going along thinking that you have it beat, but it somehow tricks you into thinking that it is a part of you until you suddenly realize:

"Hang on, you haven't gone away at all have you?"

And he's back in there trying to ruin your life with his sly trickery and deception.

Now I have to spend the rest of my life trying to figure myself out again.



Well life was too easy anyway...

Fancy fone



Here's a pic of my fancy new fone. But it's in black/silver. I kinda like the one in the pic though.

If you can be bothered, click on the link and you can read all the technorati.

It even has a built in kamera. Now I can post saucy pics ala Rupert.

Heh.