The Adventure ends but the A.E.S.M continues.

“What is the A.E.S.M?” asked John.
“I thought you would never ask,” said Amelia. “It is the Alien
Ethnic Society and Melissa.”
“Umm… OK said John.
“Hey who are these morons?” said Wild Will.
The two members of the A.E.S.M., one a cynical Russian Canadian, the other and eccentric Eurasian Australian stare blankly at Wild Will. How odd thought the Russian Canadian girl.
“Oh forgive me for being rude,” said Amelia. “That there is Melissa, we call her Gandhi and that is Chris, we call him Tori Pocoshrew.”
“How’s it going eh?” said Melissa.
“Nooninooninooninoo,” said Chris.
“There is another member, Antonia but she is not here,” said Amelia.
“Oh what, did Wild Will eat her?” said John sarcastically.
“No she is a distance member,” said Melissa.

- In search of a name (You’re So Amy I bet you Think This Story Is
About You!) June 2006

As promised here is an entry about some of the most important people in my life also known as the A.E.S.M.

I remember the day the A.E.S.M. (The Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa). (sometimes also referred to as the A.E.S.M…also Kate) was formed over two years ago for some reason I don’t remember. Perhaps it was a formation of our long lasting iconic friendship. It’s an iconic name and group, whose activities and adventures I remember frequently through out my time. I consider the A.E.S.M to be one of the most significant things about my visit to Australia. I remember our special group to be a time of creativity, the stories I wrote, the movies we made and of bonding, the Rockhampton Show and our random meetings at shopping fair and the uni library.

This is how I first described the A.E.S.M over two years ago.

“Ah yes the A.E.S.M. The Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa.
Chris and Amy came up with it, the reason is Chris is Eurasian, Amy is
Italian…actually she is part South Sea Islander I think, Antonia is from Hong
Kong and I am from Canada. Chris reckons we should find an organization to
support. Are symbol would be a picture of me as Ghandi. Hmm… I have interesting
friends. I don’t think I will meet anyone like them ever again. It must have
been fate that I ended up here in Australia. I think tomorrow when I am not so
tired I will draft rules for the club just for the heck of it.”
- June, 2
2006.

The original members were:

Amy: One of my best friends here in Australia. We can talk about anything. I still have no way of explaining my inspiration to talk about Bollywood, one of her many obsessions with her that one day because it’s not something I usually talk about or really have a profound interest in, although I do like it. The time I have spent with her felt like we had been friends for years. It hardly occurred to me that she lived in Canberra for most of it. Carol said I had it coming because I abandoned her, but I knew straight away our friendship was different. I always looked forward to seeing her again, because every time she came back she had changed so much and but she always felt like the same Amy I always knew, like we had never really been apart for months at a time. I always felt like I had grown more whenever I came into her midst. We partied both New Years here the second one surely showed how much we changed. I still remember the day she left for Canberra. She is a beautiful person and I will really miss her when I am back in Canada.

Chris: He is seriously my muse. Half the stuff in Superheroes was developed just by random musing, brainstorming talking about ideas and strange conversations that know one understood but us and seemed to confound those that happened to over hear it except for Amy. I remember talking about my writing efforts with Chris at least once or twice every time I saw him and quite frequently through text messages and msn. Sometimes it was the only thing we talked about, whether it was Carol stories, Wild Will, or Song of the Superheroes. I also let him be the first to see certain bits of stories as his input and approval were highly important. I still remember the first thing Chris said to me. “You’re from Canada. Alanis Morissette is my idol.”

My all time favourite quote from Chris was just after the Rockhampton Show in 2006 and we were waiting for pizza and he suddenly said “When I have a child I’ll name it Melissa…if it’s a boy.” Everyone in the car burst out laughing. Chris is the only that can make me laugh till I cry. I’ve lost track how many times that has happened now.

My favourite memory was when we played Monopoly and randomly named all the pieces after Song of the Superheroes characters. All I remember is the money bags was Philis because it is fat, the iron was Sarah because it symbolised what a woman is supposed to do and the car was Officer Octogenarian because it was sleek and stylish. I wish I had written the others down. Chris also came to believed he corner powers whenever we played Monopoly.

All my flatmates most likely think that I am obsessed with Chris and Amy as I used to talk about them all the time. I always thought and truly believed that they were the coolest. My current flatmate Justine thought I was hyping Chris up before she met him. She said. Surely no one could be that cool, but I met him and he was. Well of course you think I would lie about a thing as important as coolness. I’ll miss him heaps too.

Antonia: Sadly, I’ve lost contact with her now. However, the time spent with her was memorable. I remember how she used to say “sure, sure.” Amy, Chris and I would often say how beautiful she was. My favourite memory of Antonia was the first of the A.E.S.M. productions of A Flat To Myself in which she died by poison lemonade.

Kinwai: He always stuck me as someone who is really quiet. I never really talked to him much, but I liked him. I remember how he used to come and meet Antonia after Media Ethics and collect 10 cent pieces for her. Amy and I used to say that he obviously really liked her you could just tell.

Kate: I’ve lost contact with Kate over the past year, but the time we did spend together was fun. Especially when we filmed Flat to Myself 2: How Convenient and our random clubbing escapades with Chris. We also used to discuss Superheroes but differently.

And of course me which is pretty self explanatory.

Others have become honorary members

P.S. Wild Will

And some significant rules have been broken (more about that later.)

The original rules of the A.E.S.M. were…

AESM (Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa)
Statement of Principles and Guidelines

1. This is
the most important rule: Friends are first always. This principle out weighs all
guidelines
2. Joan is not allowed into the AESM, under no circumstances, if
allowed in. It shall be called AESEM Alien Ethnic Society Excluding Melissa.
Posters shall be made to accompany this rule.
3. No Americans aloud, unless
they are nice and they know Canadians don’t live in igloos, are lumberjacks or
use dog sleds as a mode of transportation. Melissa gets very offended when they
think this.
4. Martians are ok, they can join anytime
5. “Eh” is a
Canadian word :)
6. Believe in the principles set forth by Gandhi, looking
up on him and his life is essential.
7. You must be ethnic in origin being
from a city or town doesn’t count.
8. Learn the secret handshake and goodbye
salute, which is currently in the developmental stages
9. Being a distant
member is allowed, but keeping in contact with you ASEM friends while abroad is
very important or you will be deemed an inactive member. No one likes them.
Mwhahahaha!
10. Bollywood is an excellent form of entertainment
11. You
must like Alanis Morissette or at least some of her songs.
12. Wild Will is
Melissa’s imaginary dog hero. You must not make fun of this, you also read all
stories.

Principle 9 has been the most consistent and now that I am going to be even more distant from the A.E.S.M . I think it as well as The first one on the list is the most important.

The most significant rules to be broken were Principle 5 I hardly every say Canadian words anymore, Principle 8 no secret handshake was every developed although we did share secret wisdom and friendship, and most importantly….

Principle 2! No Joans allowed, blah, blah you know the rest. Chris even memorised it.

It was sadly created at a time when I was in the midst of a love hate relationship with Joan. Not to mention one sided as I was the one who drafted and created these principles and guidelines. Since this time, I come to be good friends with Joan despite the rocky start and some strange pointless arguments later. She is really the only friend that I argue with the most and the only one that can get a rise out of me. Sometimes we don’t see eye to eye and for some reason I turn into a scarlety monster or as Joan put it ‘a down right bitch.’ Which let’s face it I can be. For some reason Joan is the only one who can push my buttons and is allowed to anger me and get away with it. Chris once said that I like Joan but on my own terms. She made for some interesting stories, like the one time she made me eat lemon me-rang pie of the floor. Her annoyingness is one of her many eccentric and dazzling characteristics that I have come to tolerate and I am not sure if I like sometimes, despite people (I am not naming anyone) telling me I shouldn’t be friends with her. (Everyone is entitled to there own opinions.)And because she is an important person in my life it’s fitting that this principle should be changed or altogether eliminated, but I want to leave it for ironies sake. Principle 2 has been broken Joan can be a member of the A.E.S.M. Seeing as it’s all about friendship and not exclusion. I made a new rule that contradicts it and to eliminate the exclusionary principle altogether. I apologise for this rule and I apologise to Joan if she ever felt excluded from our group or uninvited. So you can be rest assured that it will still be the A.E.S.M. and not the A.E.S.E.M. unless you count me leaving for Canada? In which case the second name would be very fitting, but in completely different circumstances. So here it is.

Lucky Principle 13: Guidelines can be changed to suit circumstances. For example Principle 2 which was undeniably harsh and exclusionary.

I guess you could say it’s the new A.E.S.M. It’s out with the old and in with the new.

P.S.: Wild Will Rocks

Another highlight of the A.E.S.M. is the stories written and inspired by it’s members old and new. Five stories well (six if you count the last chapter in the second series of Wild Will vs. The A.E.S.M stories) were written specifically about members, tailored to their eccentricities or things that we joked about. In total there were nine stories, littered with off centred humour, inside jokes, meanness regrettably towards certain non-members and most importantly Wild Will, Amy’s cult figure and ‘my imaginary dog hero.’

They were:

In search of a name (You’re So Amy I bet you Think This Story Is About You!)

A Flat to Myself…(You’re so Chris… I bet you think this story is
about you.)

Antonia French and the 12 Dozen Singing Dogs(You’re so
Antonia I bet you think this story is about you.)

The Horror of
Love…(You’re so Kinwai…this story is definitely not about you.)

Wild
Will and Melissa the Writer vs. Justin and Joan P.S. Ruthless Roy

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 1: The created turns on the creator

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 2: It’s all in the name

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 3: You’re so Kate…this story IS about you!

Then of course I can go with out mentioning Song of the Superheroes.

“Melissa! I want to be in a different story,” said Wild
Will. “Write me in a different one or I will eat you.”
“What is a Kate
featured story not good enough for you?” Chris asked.
Melissa writes a
paragraph or two in her notebook about Wild Will. She then shows it to Wild
Will.
“A cameo appearance?” said Wild Will. “Whose idea was this?”
“Amy’s,” said Melissa.
- A Multimedia of Problems Part 3: You’re so Kate…this story IS about you!

I guess you could say Wild Will needed a bigger place to run a muck, being the wanker of a Rottweiler he is. I don’t know if it can be directly related, but Song of the Superheroes never would have been if it weren’t for my friends in the A.E.S.M who gave me the inspiration. Scarily I had a whole plan to turn the A.E.S.M. stories into a novel called What is the Meaning of this Madness?! Now I know that it wasn’t meant to be but these nine stories were actually preludes to something much bigger and very special to me, my first ever novel. Not to mention my favourite offbeat character I created three years before I came to Australia arrived in a proper story Song of the Superheroes and he will be a fully fledged main character in the sequels to come. This is all because of the A.E.S.M.

P.S. Wild Will Rocks My Socks

One thing I remember specifically that involved the original four members of the A.E.S.M. was the Flat To Myself franchise. Sometimes when it rains I think about it, Antonia coming out of the fridge, Amy being impaled by a scrub brush, (I am so taking that brush back to Canada! :P) Chris being Chris and me being a narrating ghost. I think about the sequel especially when I was procrastinating for a big assignment the next day, (as it was made the day before I had two assignments due.) I reminisced about Kate and her basket ball throwing and Chris, with the pictures of Antonia (which I think was a heart) and Amy (a pair of boobies) on the brick wall shouting strange things at it while banging at the pictures with a knife. And who could forget the phrase “She has lottery tickets!” or the girl with three voices Melora, Wild Will and Carol.

I’ll miss the time I spent with the A.E.S.M. more than I will miss Australia. I missed everyone before they even left, yet somehow it still hasn’t sunk in. I have nothing but fond memories of the A.E.S.M.

P.S. Props go to Joan for her idea about the red cordial in Song of the Superheroes, which was my favourite scene and oddly was titillating for someone else to read. Hmmm…I had Doritos for lunch.

Surprise entry.

Surprise! I updated today!

I guess I shouldn’t be slightly embarrassed when a Brazilian in the computer lab says I am very beautiful?

What could be the most random thing to happen at the moment? How about a Brazilian named Wagner who adds you to msn but talks to you in Portuguese and when that fails translates it on Babel Fish so it is still a bunch of gibberish to me? This has happened more than once. I find it quite random. I don’t speak Portuguese, he doesn’t speak English. I don’t see how any kind of relationship is possible with the language barrier. Not unless one of us learns the language. I don’t see myself learning Portuguese in the near future, although I am particularly interested in French for some reason. Anyways he wants to make kissy with me and I don’t. THE END!

I guess my many encounters with Brazilians can go into my stock pile of memories of my time in Australia.

I still remember a 36 year old Brazilian saying to me. “I dream of you at night! I am 36 I like 23.”

Ewwww!!!

And my new favourite quotes so far.

“How you this my angel?”

“It would like to call you pra to go in boate, q you only goes to travel.”

“If some day you will have time, you encina me the English?”

“What it was with you?”

“You this gripada?”

When I showed Joan this her response was wtf, along with various lol’s.

I don’t know why but I find this slightly amusing. He just doesn’t get it. Here is a sampling of the msn conversation.

Wagner: It would like to give a kiss today to you!
Me thinking: Oh dear God!
Me: I have girl friend.
Wagner: I no understand.
Me: I don't want to kiss. I am saving my kisses for my future boyfriend back in Canada who happens to be a girl.”
Wagner: No understand!
Then two minutes later.
Wagner: I am very happy for you.
Me thinking: What the?
Me: Thank you why?
Wagner: Very pretty e a person to have confidence in the other and to be faithful
Another two minutes later…
Wagner: you would like to find somebody as one day!

Oh wells this has given me the silly Melissa giggles. THE END!

P.S. I changed a rule in the A.E.S.M. Rule 13. Lucky 13. Rules can be changed to suit circumstances. For example rule # 2 which was undeniably harsh. Chris will understand what I mean.

P.P.S. I have a longer entry planned before I make leaving to Australia dedicated to the A.E.S.M. Hopefullly I sit down and write it.

The long awaited entry.

Long time no write. Chris made that point to me extra clear when he said to Amy and I on Monday morning in Shopping Fair that her and I are becoming a bit slack with blog entries.

“I keep checking your blogs and I keep seeing ‘Creature of Habit’ and ‘Goodbye Democrats’.

Joan remarked how she is updating more regularly.

Then Chris demanded once more.

“DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! NOW! NOW! NOW!”

I don’t know why I have become slacker with the blog writing business. I could have blamed it on uni, but I did make a point in previous entries that I was writing purely for procrastination. Then it could have been work, but I only work six hours a week usually so I should have heaps of time to write something. I think I am just slack. I always seem to start my blog entries with ‘I haven’t written in a long time.’ Gosh gee wiz maybe I should stop stating the fricken obvious.

I have decided to share with you a story. I haven’t written one in ages. It’s a Philis story. Somewhat inspired by my literature courses I took. I might even put it into Fizzy Lemonade. :P Because Ashleigh has finally discovered her area of expertise in her nerd nerdy retardedness! I already showed Chris but I made more changes...

Ashleigh and Philis are sitting in the lounge room in a small rose coloured apartment, house sitting for Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum.

Philis: (Frantically) Ashleigh, Ashleigh!!!
Ashleigh: (Somewhat annoyed) Yes Philis?
Philis: I was reading..
Ashleigh: Did you just say you were reading?
Philis: Yes, surprised? You think I can read because my eyes our covered in fat?
Ashleigh: Yes actually.
Philis: What’s That’s terrible!!
Ashleigh: No I mean I am surprised you are reading! So what was your general complaint about the book?
Philis: Who said I was complaining?
Ashleigh: You always complain Philis.
Philis: Noooooooo I don’t the only thing I complain about is being fat, which I am. Is it not justifiable to complain about being fat? I wanted to tell you about this book which is ironically fat.
Ashleigh: OK….
Philis: You see this book by D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, but it’s boring it keeps going on about ‘the bitch goddess’ and how machines will take over the world and our turning away from nature.
Ashleigh: Well I guess you could say the book was a bit prophetic machines our common place. Wait your reading D.H. Lawrence?
Philis: Yes. By the way who is the bitch goddess? Is she fat complainer so people think she is fat, but she is beautiful like a goddess?
Ashleigh: I’m pretty sure that Officer Olds reference was in no ways literary related. Philis: Sooooo who is the bitch goddess Lawrence was always on about?
Ashleigh: Success, wealth! A common theme in modernist writing is the desire to return to nature.
Philis: Nooooo that’s stupid why did he just go live in a forest if loved nature so much?
Ashleigh: Philis you are talking about one of the more prolific authors of the modern era. These concerns were present in his time.
Philis: Modern era? It’s modern now.
Ashleigh: No many would say were in the area of postmodernism.
Philis: Nooooo that’s not what I want to argue about.
Ashleigh: I don’t even want to argue.
Philis: Well before you interrupted me with your nerd nerdy retarded weird girl words because you think I can’t read because I am fat.
Ashleigh: I didn’t say that. Although I am genuinely surprised and shocked that you are reading a book.
Philis: Stop interrupting me! As I was saying Lady Chatterley’s Lover was supposed to be about sexy times, but it hasn’t gotten to that bit yet. She and Mellor’s haven’t maked sexy and it goes on for ages. I got the chickens but it maded me hungry and I figured I must be angry because I am hungry because I am fat because fat people eat when they are angry or sad, mostly sad.
Ashleigh: You know Philis maybe you should stop eating your feelings. Anyways if you had finished reading the bit about the chickens you would have got to the sex scene. Oh yeah and there was sexy times with Michaelis that Irish playwright.
Philis: That doesn’t count because he can’t get it up. Like King Gorilla Man Boobs friend Captain Crazy Balding Monkey Man. Anyways if that counted as sexy times it would be Lady Chatterley’s Lovers…
Ashleigh: (Sighs) I see your point.
Philis: Shut up. You see nothing
Ashleigh: I read the book.
Philis: Nothing!
Ashleigh: OK I will clarify that again. I read the whole book. Not half way through to the part about the chickens.
Philis: Sooooooo what you think I can’t read a whole book! I can express my opinions about a book just because I am fat. I don’t just watch TV because I am fat. You think I can’t read because I am fat.
Ashleigh: I never said that!
Philis: Yes you indiscriminately did!
Ashleigh: No I didn’t fat ass!
Philis: Oh look it’s the chemist you are secretly in love with!
Ashleigh: (Runs to lounge window) WHERE!
Philis: (Throws book at Ashleigh)
SMACK!
Ashleigh: Owe that hurt you cow! What was that for?
Philis: That’s how much the book made my hurt! I was expressing a point.
Ashleigh: Some expression! Then why did you bother to read it then.
Philis: I thought it was about sex. And seeing as I can’t have sex I want to read about it.
Ashleigh: It is about sex. It takes a while for the good parts to come.
Philis: Ewwwww Ashleigh don’t make disgusting puns.
Ashleigh: I wasn’t….
Philis: Hmmmph!!! (Folds arms) I am going to read a different book Orlando. It’s about sex.
Ashleigh: A change in biological sex. Not actual sex.
Philis: Sooooo I find miraculous changes in biology to be interesting.
Ashleigh: Yeah well miraculous changes in biology determined you to be an idiot. If you don’t like D.H. Lawrence, you won’t like Virginia Woolf either.
Philis: Why not?
Ashleigh: Well for starters Orlando was written for her close friend Vita Sackville-West who was her lover. She was a saphist
Philis: A sapphire! Ashleigh, don’t be ridiculous!
Ashleigh: No you twat. She was that way! They were close friends, lovers.
Philis: What! I’m not that way!
Ashleigh: I know, I know, but if Nigel knew you were reading this particular book he’d say you were. He would use it as proof to say you are that way! You don’t want another editorial by him!
Philis: Noooooo I guess not!
Ashleigh: If you want to read about sex, try erotica. I am assuming was your intentions in the first place. Anais Nin. Just be warned that it’s a bit out there!
A short while later.
Philis: Ashleigh, Ashleigh! I just read The Delta of Venus by Anais Nin! It was the most digustingess book ever.
Ashleigh: I tried to warn you.
Philis: Shut up no you didn’t.

It seems like a couple of weeks ago that I arrived here in Australia. I doesn’t feel like two and a half years at all. I don’t think it has sunk in yet. Even when I hugged my friends goodbye. I feel like I will still be in Rockhampton waiting till they come in the summer.

It seems like yesterday when I got a going away card from my mom wishing me luck in “Aussie Land!” I kept it with me the whole time. I used to look at it when I was homesick sometimes or when I was feeling down for encouragement and inspiration. My mom always knows what to say to make me feel better, whether she realises it or not. All I know is I made her really proud, she emphasises that a lot with a lot of her cards and messages. Sue-Woman seemed a bit critical about her pride in me a bit, I felt like she accused her of living through me vicariously or that I was some sort of victory that my mom could claim because she is a single mom. I used to think that too, but now I realise that my mom has every right to feel the way she does whatever the reason. If it wasn’t for her encouragement and support I wouldn’t be here. Not to mention she gave birth to me.

I’ve done a lot of new and different things. Too many to list or to remember all at once. I’d have to do a whole entry in retrospective and that would take ages.

For starters the most recent would be eating kangaroo. I still remember my Canadian friend Becky’s shock when I told her that Aussies eat kangaroos. She was genuinely upset, but then I reminded her that Canadians eat deer, moose, caribou, etc.

I will have lots of stories to tell.

Like on of my favourite memories of when I went to Great Keppel Island with Amy. She and I were swimming in the ocean and then all of a sudden we saw our Indian friend Raj out on the beach. He looked as if he were naked. Amy and I began to freak out and plan our escape which appeared to be futile anyways because he was getting closer and closer. Luckily moments later it was discovered he was wearing flesh toned underwear. I still remember Amy’s exact words on Raj’s apparent nakedness. “The only man I want to see naked is my future husband!” I think I had the exact same sentiments. The rest of the day turned out to be awesome fun. In which I went camera happy, got sunburnt badly, (Amy apparently still feels bad about that one) and developed lasting memories and friendship.

I guess some highlights were Multimedia Guy, mainly the mythological status of him, writing Song of the Superheroes, New Years 2007, Jo’s random dinner parties, and my all time favourite memory Sydney with Chris and Amy.

Anyways I was in the do not approach mood earlier. (Actually still kind of am.) It seems like when I am in this frame of mind everyone approaches or talks to me God damn it. Then every little question or thing they say makes me even more mad. I tell them I am not in a good mood or frame of mind to communicate, but they just don’t get it. Some people are just thick as bricks or maybe I am just a bitch. I am bettering on the later.

Peach out! I meant to write peace out. But I think peach out should be my signoff on entries from not on followed by…the usual P.S. something, something, something....

P.S. I am stressed to the max and excited to go home.

A creature of habit.

Long time no write…So I guess this entry will be about something I have randomly thought about.

So I am in a whinging ranting type mood again all because a flatmate unknowingly interrupted my balance. You see I am a creature of habit, very particular and once something I do has been upset or displaced I get agitated. I don’t know if anyone has noticed this but I like things done a certain way and things in a certain place and I have a certain routine. It’s as if one of these things is changed without my consent I am really upset and agitated, scary agitated and causes a lot of anxiety. I like having my things in a certain place and not moved and I hate sharing. I have no idea why. Maybe I am OCD or something.

Usually the anxiety is caused by something bigger, but little things trigger it that are completely unrelated. For starters I am sick of my new flatmate calling me Mel. My name isn’t Mel I wish people would realise this. It’s Melissa. M-E-L-I-S-S-A. I can’t stand little noise when people eat or the sound of the keyboard. I also have a particular obsession with objects. I like them because I can control them probably and because I think I am a bit selfish.

I like my stuff in a certain way and it really annoys me when Justine or past flatmates stacks the bowls wrongly (although it’s not technically wrong). By wrongly I mean mixing the bowls by size and type. Like stacking the plastic bowls in between the ceramic bowls or putting the plastic ones underneath the ceramic bowls. This sounds really weird but I like the ceramic bowls to be on the bottom, then the plastic bowls, then the bowls in the next smallest size and so on. I am seriously afraid if it isn’t in this particular order that A. it looks tacky and B. it will fall over and smack someone or myself in the entire head seeing as for some reason they are n the highest shelf, but I don’t want them on any other self because they have always been on that shelf. Death by kitchenware doesn’t appeal to me. This stacking applies to plates as well. Glasses are never stacked. I NEVER stack glasses.

Then in my cupboard shelf I like it organised too. First with cereal, then pasta, then long life milk, the sauces, etc. I used to alphabetise my CD’s. Now that I think about it I have impulse to go and do this. The files on my computer are meticulously organised by file and type. I organise my books by size from largest to smallest. I organise my DVD’s by genre and if it is a TV series by volume, so you wouldn’t find season four by season two of Futurama.

I am also non confrontational. I always tell a third party about my annoyances rather than tell the actual annoyance. I think I am afraid they will lash out at me or something. Another thing I noticed is I am constantly worrying to the point that it annoys people, to which I am worried that I have annoyed them, constantly looking for self reassurance from others, asking others the same question I already know the answer too as some sort or confirmation of some sort and worrying about failing assignments and tasks that I know I shouldn’t be.

P.S. If any of this doesn’t sound completely obsessive I don’t know what is. This is all slightly embarrassing to share too.

Ripple Effects

I am done uni in an entire week. AN ENTIRE WEEK! I am one step closer to finishing my degree or should I say one assignment closer. If only I could get past this writers block, this mental anguish. I am seriously procrastinating to the max this year. So much in fact how about pretty much writing an oral presentation on the day it is due! Luckily I got through OK….I surprisingly got a HD!

So here is another addition to my scramblings of things I have written meant for my blog, but have probably lost its timeliness, a very importanty thing in the world of journalism. Anyways, back to the oral presentation…I wrote it on the most seriously awesome book I have ever read, If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller. So I was comfortable with it and I knew how to answer it.
However, I am petrified of public speaking, I couldn’t speak, I kept fumbling the words while reading it and felt like I was having some sort of out of body experience. I am not afraid of the people in my class as such, but more afraid of what they think of interpretations, that they’d think it was a bunch of bullshit or completely wrong, luckily in my class The Modern Novel there is no right or wrong answer it is interpretation, well to an extent. However, I digress I am rambling on and forgetting why I am really writing about all this.

I finally figured out that I do want to be in the journalism field, not a journalist as such, but a columnist that writes about the oddity stories or someone who writes book and/or movie reviews and of course a novelist. I definitely do not want to be in the broadcasting field because it is kind of like the oral presentation, but times then ten people in the class by a million. They call it mass communication for a reason. I guess I don’t see these people watching me on the television, but I know they are there. If that makes any logical sense.

It came to me at the end of this while discussing it with the lecturer. He mentioned that if I was going to be a teacher, (most students in the class are studying to be one) that I should be using audio visual aids and be comfortable with public speaking. So I told him I wanted to be a writer and the other stuff just came out. I suddenly felt like I had an epiphany and I wanted to tell everyone my idea, specifically my mom and grandma.

This must telling of my sudden realisation of dreams led to starting to like Grandma Sue-Woman after a really good chat. I liked her the same way I did when I was little. I suddenly was able to be honest with her in a non-angering way. I kind of realised I still would not be in Australia if it wasn’t for her or my grandfather. She is controlling, (and she does own me to an extent), but I don’t think she is aware of it, it has become so internalised and natural to her that she just does it and I don’t think she does if completely for the sake of being controlling, she does it because she wants what is best for the people she loves and cares about. So maybe she should be Sue-Lady? She also has a way with words, she is very diplomatic I am never really sure she is agreeing with me or deceiving me into thinking that she is and I am really agreeing with her. I am not sure how to explain. Anyways, I really envy her talent.

The Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum in Superheroes, not the Chris’s Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum (They are very similar, but have different interpretations to an extent) may be based on her just a tiny bit. I see a bit of my grandma in her. Sue-Woman is very cultured and into the whole being a good female kind of person. This is going to sound even weirder but I see a bit of Grandma Jim-Lady in Fergus. I won’t go into this one. It’s like all the characters I created they are either many facets of myself or different pieces of people I know.

I can’t wait for uni to finish so I can start the sequels to Song of the Superheroes. The one I started No Dogs Allowed To Drink Fizzy Lemonade (I combined the titles :P Read previous entries if you have no idea what I am talking about) is more about Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum ironically and so is the sequel The Bamboozle Blues are for Convenience Sake. Oh and I am really excited Wild Will my cult character has more of a role in both and I think I am bringing the whole problem solving thing in, but it’s NOT the same as the A.E.S.M stories or at least I hope it doesn’t end up that way because I remember Chris saying I probably shouldn’t be bringing that element in the Song of the Superheroes because it would turn into a Wild Will story and Sarah Evans may be forgotten. Anyways, I can manage the mental strength I will begin as soon as I hand in the last dastardly assignment on Friday night! Heck Yes!!! I have five left…. So I guess you can imagine by reading this blog I am procrastinating once more, but not to stress I know it will get done. It always does, despite the late nights listening to the child next door scream and the annoyance of people making the click clack noise on the keyboards on the computers at the uni library.

So I guess the point of this is to say that for every instance there is a ripple effect. A scary oral presentation leads to an epiphany, which leads to me feeling good about myself, which then leads to me talking to Grandma Sue-Woman and understanding her a bit better and then finally this blog entry. Perhaps I think about things too much.

P.S. I am done uni on Friday!!!

Procrastination causes randomness!!!

1. Justin
2. Joan
3. Louie
4. Shane
5. Kayla
6. Corrin
7. Lyndin (I think that’s his name)
8. Kristine
9. Kumar
10. Daryn
11. Mohammad
12. Taryn
13. Maria
14. Christie
15. Dave
16. Jenifer
17. Elise
18. Sam

I’ve had 18 different flatmates.>

And now

19. Justine

5 out of 18 were bad apples – 28%
3 out of 18 did a lot of ummmm…screwing – 17%
2 out of 18 were anti social – 11%
3 out of 18 I got along with but never really got to know properly – 17%
5 out of 18 were awesome – 28%

As you can see I’ve thought a lot about flatmates and some random made up words, which I think are too weird to post, but were merely part of an idea for another story.

I’ve become a dastardly procrastinator. For starters I just finished an assignment that was due on Friday. I didn’t begin it till Friday night. Luckily the lecturer said we could submit the assignment over the weekend, as he wasn’t checking until Monday afternoon. Phew!!! However, I digress I ended up finding the assignment rather interesting and easy. I could have done it way sooner and got it out of the way, why did I choose to procrastinate? Oh the shame! This blog entry aids in further procrastination. Rather than go into details about

Let me tell you a story.

Me: (Quietly discussing something related to my superheroes characters about another sequel yes another I may or may on elaborate on it as of yet).
Justine: Are you OK Mel?
Me: (Cringes as improper use of name) Yes
Justine: Who are you talking too?
Me: Myself….
Awkwardy silence
Me: I day dream about my stories and I tend to get carried away sometimes.

I wonder if maybe my imagination about stories has run off with me, to the point that I rather sit and muse about them continuously. I’ve done it since I was seven. I tend to day dream a lot when I am stressed or upset about something, when I want to escape. It’s also evidently these times when I come up with my best ideas. When I day dream I get really into it to the point that I take on a role of one of the characters or various characters and begin talking to them like they are really there, yet I know they aren’t. I recognise that I am in this imaginary realm, but the longer I get into it the longer I can sense the line between imaginary and the real kind of blurring. Sometimes I pace the floor in my room or I do something that I can do with out properly thinking. My imaginations tend to take on top priority. I am worried sometimes that I am losing touch with reality. I’ve never mentioned this to anyone before. I am plain old addicted to this form of escapism. I feel better, I feel safer and somewhat productive because I am coming up with ideas for my stories.

It makes me wonder if when I reply that I am talking to myself am I merely talking to myself or many versions of me or am I talking to imaginary beings that I have brought into imaginary existence. Let’s face it I am embarrassed that I was caught in the act. Normally I make sure I am on my own, but sometimes I do participate in it when I am around people. According to my Mom I get a really blank stare that looks like I am very deep in thought. My cousin onetime told me my mouth moves sometimes, but I think she was more annoyed by it than freaked out by it. So if any of you have seen me do any of those things I am probably imagineering something.

P.S. Is there something wrong with me?

Flatmate troubles!

Whenever I am stressed the strangest things get to me. Like people typing on a computer next to me. The little light sounds of click clack just irritates me some. It just the way a particular person is typing. I lose all ability to concentrate. I want to take a pen and stab myself with it so the irritation will seise. I want to pull out my hair and stream just to rid myself of the bizarre irritation. It’s happening again, two girls sit beside me and talk quietly in the low whispery voice. There is just something about that low whispery voice that irritates the hell out of me. These kinds of things get to me when I am stressed and I think I have a good reasons to base all of it on. Hence I should warn you this entry may be a bit long.

Assignments: again with the “owe my entire brain!” Literary theory, novels, I’ll be glad to go back to a period of non-reading.

Homesickness: Enough said!

Flatmates: This requires a bit more explanation.

It all started with a coffee tableon Friday last week and an ended with the disappearance of a kettle cord this previous Thursday, but the explorations and discovery began with the removal of the house sayings on Saturday.

Goodbye house sayings/signs. They were nothing more than a passive aggressive attempt to pay both flatmates out and make it look I was having a go at myself too for good measure. That was more like the no offence clause. You know when your about to insult someone you say “no offence” as a scapegoat so you can get out of trouble. The all intelligent flatmate and the nice underestimated flatmate took no notice of this. Except for the socks, that was an obvious go. The many references to socks worked Sam-Lady (She wasn’t MEAN enough to have the “Woman” on the end of her name) no longer left her socks and clothing lying around. However, she was forced out by meanness by the all intelligent I am so up myself I think I am better than everyone else in the entire world because it revolves around me flatmate a.k.a Elise-Woman (She no longer deserves to be called Elise-Lady). So I decided the sock signs no longer had a purpose.

Then there was the signs referencing Big-W, cheese, K-Mart, being a house ninja. They were jabs too or more like reminders of a certain flatmates one-liners and pay outs towards me. I was throwing them back in her face, but she in her all intelligence never once figured it out. I was trying to show how insensitive she was, how mildly uncaring she is, (well she is a sociopath!). So I decide these signs no longer served their purpose either. I also realised I shouldn’t pay myself out for others benefit.

Poor Sam had to move, I can’t help thinking I had a part to play in this as well. I didn’t want the previously aforementioned sociopathic flatmate Elise to hate me, so I bid into her sphere of influence. I hid Sam’s towel. I put up passive aggressive signs. I dobbed her in with management because of her smelly room and had no intention of telling her about the impending room inspection. I talked badly behind her back because I liked the sense of power I felt in doing so. She was alienated and didn’t feel like she even lived her. How could I be so horrible? This was to someone who wanted to be my friend. I can now honestly say I never hated her.

For some reason I just don’t like not being liked. I am sick of letting myself be swayed and sucked in by these types of people, such as Elise. Why do I allow myself to be manipulated by them? I came in contact with someone similar before I left Australia and now ironically I have before I leave. Even more strange is the fact I lived with both of them. One convinced me I had mental issues and the other convinced me to act on my dark side. I quit my job at Pixi Foto because of acting on the dark side. I dumped someone that I knew liked me for me because I was influenced to act on my shallow side. I even have one of those types of people now that has followed me everywhere my entire life, who I know I will never be free of.

I guess I should now mention that I was caught in the middle of a flatmate war. I was neutral, Switzerland you could say. I played on both sides of the argument. I agreed with what both were upset about. For starters, I agreed with Elise that housework should be done by all equally. Washing up and cleaning up your rubbish is common sense. The bare minimum would have been suffice for me. Although I am sure it would be for Elise. Secondly, I agreed with Sam. No one has the right to make you feel like you are not welcome in your own home or judge you because you don’t go to uni and get HD’s in every subject. I also under I understand being tired when working 12 hours a day. I also agree that if Elise had a problem with Sam she SHOULD have told her so instead of leaving nasty notes on her door.

It was after this I suddenly realised Elise isn’t a very nice person. Come to think of it she leaves her shit around too! The lounge room table has a pile of magazines, her painting stuff is everywhere and she leaves her stupid pictures, maybe to remind everyone how more artistically talented and intelligent she is or something.

I managed to make her hate. Because I see both sides I ended up making things worse. Or as she so eloquently put it “Those who play for both sides of the fence end up impaling themselves. Well done!” She said it with such venom. I could feel my heart sinking to my stomach. And why did she say this too me? She overheard me warning Sam to collect her stuff because Elise wanted to make timber out of her ugly coffee table. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to repeat this to Sam as it may have been confidential, but I wouldn’t put it past Elise do something like that. Come to think of it I said that with in ear shot too, perhaps that was the problem. She stopped talking too me, but I am glad because I no longer can be controlled by her sphere of influence as I am not allowed back in it.

Because of it a new war has broke out between Elise and I. This time there is no Switzerland. The flat has descended into disruptive silence, an oxymoronic conundrum. I say disruptive because it was uncomfortable and angry silence and silence because well it was silent. The only safe haven was my room and it felt like that was were I belonged, while Elise figured she could own the entire flat.

By Tuesday, I had a vendetta. The three days of silence had eroded my common sense. It had driven me insane. I wanted Elise to feel like Sam did, like I was at that very moment. I started to hate her I became obsessed with hating her. I wanted her out of my flat. This anger and hatred were eating at me alive. I realised it was poison and futile attempt as people like her never see it the other way. They are drowned by their arrogance. I just couldn’t let go.

Little did I realise it was merely just karma at work and I was learning how Sam felt. It’s not very nice, Latter apologised to her. She was acting like the flat was hers and I was getting sick of it. So on Wednesday began to act on my passive aggressive nature. I moved the TV remote to random places. It only happened twice that day, once in the draw where we keep the telephone books and the second time in the kitchen drawer. It was an attempt to tell her. I am here too and it’s also my flat. You don’t own the entire television set! I was hoping that perhaps maybe she’d say, “Melissa where is the remote?” or “why did you hide the remote?” But no she found it and the silence continued. I was merely trying to open the lines of communication, but it was a failed miserable attempt. In retrospect I should have talked to her. And said she was being childish, etc.

That evening in my insomnia I realised I should let it go. However I had hid the remote a second time before bed and I figured I’d put it back where it belongs in the morning. However, I should unhide it at that moment because Elise decided to hide the kettle cord the next morning. I should have seen it coming. It’s quite brilliant actually. I was amused by it for some reason. I use the kettle more so than the television. I have a bit of a tea obsession recently. Oh wow she cared to notice. However, I only hid the remote around the house, she hid it in her entire room because she knew I couldn’t get it back. She was one up on my on this little battle.

Then I decided that perhaps I should stop and look at my own childish behaviour. I went to the managers and admitted to hiding the remote saying I was trying to get her attention as she was ignoring me. I surprising didn’t get in trouble although I felt that I should have. Elise on the other hand got a notice of remedy breach, a warning for her bad behaviour, which I so eloquently put on her door. I had the upper hand this time, but I didn’t feel any better for it. She wasn’t evicted, but close too it. She in return left a note on my door that accusing me of not telling the whole truth. I replied with another note that said I did tell the truth about the remote, I realised I was being childish and there is a difference between the two implements involved. She ripped it up and stuck it back to her door. It would have been so much more effective if she stuck it too mine, but who cares.

So as you can see if I wanted to repair the damage, it’s too late now. That is why it ends with the kettle. Why would I want to be friends with someone who brags about picking up random men, actually brings them home, makes me feel bad for being a virgin, who is mean for no reason, but to be mean and has a prejudice towards people who are not at her level of intelligence. I’ve lost respect for so I couldn’t care less if she hates me. Then again it saddens me a bit because we did have some good times together. Perhaps that was the impalement she was telling me about? Anyways what I am getting at is, I am Libran and weigh both sides out, hence the scales, I finally saw Sam as the one with more merit and I sided with her. THE END! I am finished my amazingly long rant. However getting this out has made feel better…I seem to be having this cleansing type process lately, where I am just unloading all of my feelings out into the nothingness of the web. Now that this is out in the open I can no longer dwell. My 5 days of dwelling, which should have been 30 is now entirely over.

P.S. I obess too much.

Owe my entire beautiful brain!

I’ve been dabbling random thoughts in my journal lately in attempts to possibly construct a useful entry, but it’s a garbled mess of musings from the past two weeks that make no sense to me, but perhaps it will to you.

I highly suspect someone invisible uttered an unspeakable F name of a certain headache causing variety, because I am not acting like a chicken, laughing uncontrollably, jumping up and down because of a board game, (although I am suddenly really wanting to play Monopoly purely for procrastination type purposes) and unfortunately not taking a nice long nap. Did I mention I want to take a really nice long nap? Perhaps it will cure my headacheyness, which of course is another made up word. Come to think of it is probably this insane amount of literary theory by crazy French men, which is really interesting, but headache causing, stupid assignments, then there is the eye strain from the catastrophic amount of novel reading, financial stress because work is being a poo head and only giving me six hours a week, my humongous gianormous accumulating debt, then other types of stress, think flatmate type wars and the story idea outbreak going through my head at the most inconvenient moment.

So to quote the lovably vain Officer Octogenarian, the character not the person, “Owe my entire beautiful brain!”

Yes there has been story idea outbreak in my entire mind, stupid characters are really insistent about the sequel to Song of the Superheroes for some reason. I’ve decided Sarah Evans is coming back, apparently she doesn’t feel like she has fulfilled her mission against the corporate owning media or more likely the misogynistic Nigel. I’ve just lost the will to write lately. I want to get these ideas onto a computer screen and/or paper, but I think I have become to stressed or depressed to do so. It hurts me to neglect my writing.

I suddenly feel like I am whinging. I keep thinking sometimes that I hate my life and I have wasted a good part of my adult life doing everything in strange mix matched make no sense kind of way. I don’t really think my life has ever made sense to me. Then again I shouldn’t because I’ve accomplished some major goals of mine for starters come to Australia and to go to university. I’ve done two things my family hasn’t. I should be immensely proud, but all I feel is regret for some strange reason. I just feel like my priorities have become all backwards. For starters I continued to go to school after high school had finished, went to a foreign country to study, suddenly rebelled like I secretly wanted too and by that I mean question religion and partying. Now I want to go home just have a random job and work towards my drivers’ license so that I can get a good paying job in journalism so I can work towards being an author.

I can’t help thinking it should have been the later, followed by school, some sort of rebellion I didn’t come into partying till I was in my twenties most of my friends rebelled once they hit 17-19, then college and university in my home country in something I decided. I was kind of prodded into journalism because everyone reckoned I was a good writer. I wanted to be an astronomer, still do sometimes, but now I am in so much debt, that will be likely to not happen. Then I should have come to Australia as a tourist, not a student before and/or after getting a good paying job, but no it’s all jumbled around. It feels random and sporadic, I feel like chaos. May I remind you this entry is not about sympathy, just random garbled feelings I’ve been neglecting I need to get out of my head for some cathartic reason.

I have to constantly remind myself that everything happens for a reason, I wouldn’t have met my amazingly awesome beautiful friends here, written a novel or rebelled. It will be interesting to see how much I have changed once I go home. I shouldn’t regret my decisions, but I still do.

I am going home, but despite the minute amount of mixed emotions still left I am at peace with it and actually quite excited about it. I suddenly realise my fantastically intelligent attempt to stay here, if it didn’t put me in further debt helped me become ready for going home perhaps? To face my issues that I now admit perhaps came to Australia to get away from. Maybe I should go home to figure out how all this chaotic order of events happened and perhaps settle it before it becomes more so. Also my grandparents are getting older, I can’t help feeling they are not going to be around for much longer and I don’t want to be overseas when they are pushing up the daisies. Then there is the friends I’ve forgotten back home, I feel like I’ve neglected them. Mind you going home has nothing to do with guilt.

And the big thing I want to do is find my father. I feel like some will never know what it is like to have a big question such as this constantly hanging around you. The longer I put it off the more it eats at me. I have also just made the connection to why I am dreaming about being eaten by aliens. For starters I have felt alienated by people most of my life and well questions such as who is my father combined with this is slowly metaphorically eating me alive. It’s not a nice feeling.

Does anyone feel the way I do?

Dinner for T-Rex in Outer Space

I’ve had some interesting dreams lately.

For starters I keep getting chased by a Tyrannosaurus rex but I am not really scared of it. This T-rex seems to be a reoccurring character.

In this recent dream I was on space station or at least a building that I would say is technologically profound compared to now. Ashleigh McGlonagick would most likely remark that she was in nerd NERDY retarded paradise, but anyways Rex was on the lose eating the residents. Now that I think of it was kind of like the Alien movies, except it was a carnivorous dinosaur. Strangely enough the T-rex had a lizard tongue. I am not sure how to describe it but he or she or perhaps it as I am not sure of the sex of the beast, I am not really sure it matters. Gender doesn’t seem to be an issue for dinosaurs only humans. Hence the dinosaur could grab his victims with its tongue and swallow them whole. The more Rex ate the bigger he became.

Some of the survivors including me managed to capture him and put the monster into a jail cell. (A very dark cell.) In other words I kind of felt bad for Rex all alone in a cell. He seemed to shrink a bit too. However those in charge of the place were worried he would escape, so two guards were chosen to watch over the prison, one of them being me. Ironically I think I was male, equipped with military knowledge and physically fit, basically I potentially had the ability to out run Rex.

However, Rex somehow tricked the other guard into letting him out but disguising himself, rather badly as a pregnant old lady woman. I think this term was used as well as I was aware of his deception. Rex some how put on wig and an ugly blue dress. I was increasingly aware of the shadowy figure lurking in the jail cell.

Sure enough as soon as he escaped him ate the other guard who freed him. He began to chase me. I shot at him trying to shot his tongue off as that was his primary means eating. Sadly I was caught and he was about to eat me head first, but somehow he was stopped by another guard who came to help me. I thought perhaps it was a stomach upset as he had eaten a lot. I then remember grabbing the t-rex unnaturally little arms and pinned him to the wall with magnetic cups while he squirmed and resisted.

Later it was found out that the people he ate were still alive. It was merely a matter of getting them out of his stomach. I could see and hear people inside him. It was entirely weird.

P.S. It was sometime in April 2004 that I was thinking of going to Australia.

A Product of my Procrastination

I eat my feelings!

Damn you and your cheese talk!

WHO ASKED YOU SQIUGGLEBUM?

Did you remember your sock spray? Otherwise learn how to swim.

Ugachaka!

I burn things…

Socks live in here!

Socks do NOT live here.

No Socks Allowed!

Nobody socks here anymore...

“Je suis un chef de doo de doo!”

“The world is like Big W. W unknown.”

“Free will would be eating the hats.”

“It’s so romantic. I need some rope.”

“Someone is having a barbeque.”

“You’re a house ninja.”

What does the K in K-mart stand for?

“What that’s terrible!”

“Oh no it’s a pregnant old lady man monster!”

“A fogery pregnant old lady man monster stole your towel, love the Tooth Fairy!”

“The cupboard door is not your sex toy.”

“I eat children.”

“Children are not food.”

“Thanks Tickelface! (P.S. You spelt “tickle” wrong. Love the Grammar Nazi!)

“That’s Tops!”

“When a woman has a baby she gets pregnant for seven months to a dogface lady man.”

What is this random garble of words and sentences? Why they are house sayings, Chris-isms, Melissa-isms, A.E.S.M-isms, inside-joke-isms and random-targets-towards-housemate-isms. I wonder how many can figure which ism they belong too. Why so many ism’s? For the last couple of weeks I have been a sign maker and putting these random sayings all over the flat, most likely out of randomness or procrastination.

Hey! My classes are very complicated this term. I am homesick! I have a lot on my mind. Procrastination is a wonderfully quick cure, so what if I am screwing myself in the end. :P

I can’t believe its April already in two months my random adventures in Australia may be nothing but memories. It makes me really sad. Perhaps my procrastination is a product of me wanting to prolong my stay?

Well yesterday would be the first time I met MEAN Canadians. They were entirely rude and unfriendly to me. ENTIRELY RUDE! Maybe it’s because I was working at Big W. I really wanted to tell them to go back to Canada, because they are making other Canadians look like hosers. I reckon they were Americans in disguise as Canadians, using our hard earned respect so people will be nice to them, mostly because they sounded American at first. It really annoys me to no end when Americans go overseas and pretend to be Canadians, because people are nicer to them. Half the time they can’t get it right either. My country earned the right for people to be nice to them because we are nice and Americans have no right to use our national identity as a way to be treated better. I am sorry but it's there fault people hate them so much. Sorry that's just my rant for the day. Nothing against Americans who actually say they are American by they way.

I have also been watching that Moment of Truth show. I am confused as to why one would publicly humiliate themselves whilst allowing complete strangers in there living rooms’ leagues away into their deep and personal secrets. I guess the lust for money and 15 minutes or so of fame is enough for them. I remember watching last weeks episode, which was apparently one of the most controversial ones in which a wife pretty much destroyed her entire marriage on national television. She lost it all on one question "Do you think you are a good person?" She said yes. However, her behaviour would imply other wise. She just previously finished answering a question beforehand which asked if she had sexual relations with someone other than her husband. The husband must have been just as humiliated. She lost more than $100,000, but that's just my opinion. I find humanity to be a very curious species indeed and to be a part of it confuses me just as much.

This blog entry is a product of my procrastination as well as rantings, musings and a very special e-mail chain. I really honestly should get on track.

P.S. This entry is actually being published on a Friday and not a Sunday. :P

“Socks live in here!”

Dear people of all awesomeness,

Friday, although rather slow, due to the fact that it’s a public holiday and was like a Sunday. It was rather amusing.

I have been procrastinating for the whole weekend. So rather than work on uni, on Friday I scrubbed a bathtub, to the point that I smelt like bleach, washed some walls in the kitchen and cleaned my bedroom floor. The later I was hoping would get rid of my sneezing as I think I may have a dust allergy. Unfortunately it did not help.

Anyways, Thursday I randomly bought Monopoly to:

1. Fight off boredom due to bad television AND
2. To aid in procrastination. It is because of this

While leaving work I walking out with a big famous board game did not go unnoticed. I think a majority of co-workers remarked how I had it. Yes I bought Monopoly big deal. I should have invited them all to come to my flat to play.

It kind of made me sad when I got home. I didn’t even take it out of the packaging till the afternoon. I was worried I’d have no one to play with it. On Friday afternoon Elise decided she wanted to play Monopoly. It was fun and all until I was accused of being a house ninja. I kept buying house on my property. It is the idea isn’t it? Elise hardly bought any houses and she wondered why I am winning. The aim of the game is to take risks. So I am proud to be a house ninja. The unfinished game was on the lounge room table till this afternoon. I finally realised looking at the sad unfinished game that I probably won’t be playing it for a while because I suspect Elise doesn’t like to lose.

I also apparently ate a scrub brush, but this is completely unrelated to Monopoly. The scrub brush was found later, but no apologies were issued.

Just now I was thinking how my flatmate Elise and I have someone intelligent discussions that turn into nonsensical musings.

For example:

Me: It felt weird leaving Literary Theory to go to work yesterday. We discussed free will and how we technically we don’t have it, we merely have choices. I then thought about going to Big W in which I could technically have the choice not to attend work or any kind of work and do what I want if “free will” existed.
Elise: Yes well you have the choice to be poor and not eat, but you kind of have too.
Me: That’s true. The lecturer believes that we don’t have free will because we give that up as soon as we are born into society and we merely have choices.
Elise: Yeah that makes sense everyone has to conform and know one is different.
Me: You know I was thinking Big W is kind of like a mini culture because you have to act a certain way to conform or you’re fired. It’s kind of like society in a way.
Elise: (Perplexed look.) What does the W in Big W stand for?
Me: I have no idea. I should ask a manager. They should know.
Elise: The world is like Big W. W unknown.
Me: I think it stands for Woolworths. I think Big W came around to compete with K-Mart.
Elise: What does the K in K-mart stand for?
Me: I have no idea.

Sometime later….

Me: I tried telling co-worker about my theory on free will and she kind of just looked at me. I said you have a choice to by things such as hats, but if you think about it you don’t really have free will.
Elise: Exactly free will would be eating the hats.
Me:And cooking it in a pot in the middles of the fashion accessories aisle.
Elise: Yes I can it imagine it bubbling in a cauldron.
Me: Mmmmm hat soup, tastes like leather. All hail the naked lady statue.
Elise:Ugachaka!
Me:This causes people to think you are crazy.

Now I suddenly realised I am not supposed to blog about the company I work for. However, I wasn’t attacking anyone, just discussing eating hats, buying socks, the meaning of the W and how I bought Monopoly. Hopefully this doesn’t get me fired. Case in point I should really be careful think previous job with Pixi Foto... I pretty much whinged about them every entry. Not good.

So as you can tell the concept of “free will” has peaked my interest. To mean it makes sense, as we give up freedoms to be a part of society. We don’t have free will we have choices. For example buying socks at Big W we have the choice to buy them. Speaking of socks my new flatmate Samantha leaves her socks all over the flat. Elise says she saw a sock in Sam’s window. It is kind of funny and random. So does she have the free will to place socks every where? Or is it merely a choice. This kind of makes my head hurt. Anyways Elise and I decide to hide the socks she leaves randomly around the house and put of informative signs such as “Socks live in here!” on her bedroom door and “Socks don’t live here” on the bathroom door until she figures it out.


Another concept is how literature is of timeless significance, transcends the age it was written in and speaks to what is a constant human nature. After reading that one must wonder what constant human nature is. It is the way we behave as humans, but it’s not universal. The idea that there is a single human nature is problematic. I am now curious to know what exactly does it mean to be human as we are all seen as individuals, but the same as well.

P.S. Ugachucka!

My entirely rebellious entry.

Dear Readers of the hopefully intelligent universe,

I’ve decided that Fridays should be blogging days, for the mere fact that I keep forgetting to update, despite the random hints from friends. It’s been over three weeks since I’ve graced my presence and I apologise for the lack of updates. This opening paragraph explaining my lack of updates is becoming a frequent occurrence I might add.

Ironically this entry is being published on a Sunday, but I digress it did begin this on Friday. I also apologise that this entry is rather scrambled as they seem to be lately. It has no coherent pattern of any kind.

It’s during these three weeks or so with university and work I have discovered a lot about myself. In fact I have noticed a great change within myself the past few months. I’ve become a rebel. AN ENTIRE REBEL!

For starters, I think I might have quit Pixi Foto. I decided against my better judgement not to show up for a shift, or three hour staff meeting on Tuesday. So believing that one staff meetings aren’t typically three hours long and two, having better places to be. I decided they should keep their precious $18 per hour. My flatmate answered my phone and said I was sick, the manager may or may not have believed her if it weren’t for the fact that she’s a sadist and was laughing while describing my illness. Sooooo I am fired. I feel like I’ve turned into the employee I am not supposed to be. The End!

Secondly since I have been here in Australia I have started drinking. I was NEVER going to do that. I even made a pledge when I was nine before I understood what alcohol was. This might include other beliefs I made a pledge too before understanding them as well.

Thirdly, I have become even more confused when it comes to religious matters. I don’t know what I believe in anymore. It may have to do with the fact that I am studying journalism and all the stuff I have been learning at university. I am constantly questioning things. I think I am leaning towards humanism for some reason. I’ll write more about this another time.

I have also recently thought about dates April 18 and October 24. I keep dreaming about them and I feel they have some sort of significance, but I can’t figure it out. It could be that April 18th and October 24th are just a dates and random information that slipped into my consciousness?

I have the following theories:

I dreamt that on April 18 Chris and Amy went to London with out me and I felt left out and decided to go back to Canada.

April 18 is the day I met Officer Old, (whom now is also being referred to as the chemist.) However there is something wrong with this particular theory. I met him on the 20th of April. I only know this because I wrote about it comprehensively in my journal on the 21st. Journals are a wonderful archive of garbled ramblings that no one will ever read except me.

Then again April 18 could have something to do with London, Chris and Amy or perhaps my fate of whether or not I go home?

As for the dream about October 24 I dreamt about a photo album with lots of photographs. There were photos of my cousin, some unknown guy and I in the forest, presumably a national park and my old dogs Shelby and Heidi, which I compulsively started taking them out. The album was dated October 24. I suddenly realised I wanted to put the photos back, but they kept sliding everywhere. I then realised that some of the photos had blue tack so I used it to put it back together, including taking blue tack from photos still in the album.
I know that on October 24 I was interviewed for a job at Pixi Foto. Ironically when this date came to me in my dream I was looking at a photo album. I wonder if that is just coincidence though.

October 24 could also be the day I started thinking about song of the superheroes? Although I vaguely remember reading in my journal my beginning ideas on the 26th and of course I didn’t actually write the first chapter till the 31st. I still feel happy every time I read the beginning sentence “Sarah Evans has a very busy day ahead of her…” written in my big bubbly messy writing.

I have many other theories I thought of but I’ve forgotten. Case in point I am obsessed and I over analyse things too much.

Speaking of words, thinking about language and something the lecturer said. How “language speaks us.” We can’t have thoughts without language as we use words. It is language that constructs society and it is seen as the necessity for being.

P.S. I have a new flatmate which brings the flatmate total to 18! EIGHTEEN! She is pretty cool by the way.

My Antarctic Penguin Adventure!

Dear readers who are not averse to read randomness,

I am still convinced certain friends have no sense of humour. A couple of weeks ago after a week of still “rescuing their laundry from the apparently evil Ev-Lady,” This time my flatmate was getting sick of looking at Joan’s bra. So I devised another scare tactic text.

“If you don’t come and get your stuff it will get eaten! And by that I mean dressing the naked lady statue outside and leaving it in the rain. THE ENTIRE RAIN! As she demands clothing and warmth. P.S. my flatmate is going to go Germaine Greer on your bra and I’m gong to try on your mini skirt.”

Unfortunately, I was rung moments later by Justin, who did not see the “joke in it.” Then to make it even more random, my flatmate Elise was chanting “Uguchaka” our worshiping naked lady statue chant in the background. This caused Justin to mention she was psycho. No she just has a sense of humour!

May I point out to last the entry? I wouldn’t let anything happen to Justin and Joan’s precious stuff. I like them, why would I do mean things like that? It was an entire joke. AN ENTIRE JOKE! My flatmate knew it was joke and I am pretty sure others would too. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out I wasn’t serious. Which I might add was successful message as Justin came to collect the stuff. So where both of them just oblivious to the fact it was humour or do they have none? Besides the naked lady statue wasn’t particularly interested in Justin and Joan’s clothing, she’d prefer some nice silks from the props at certain photography studio. THE END!

I keep having strange dreams…This one tops all of them!

It started off with my brother in my room and sadly just like old times he was making a mess in my room, by throwing stuff and breaking things. This of course really pissed me off. I was about to kick him out, when a scientist arrived at my door and informed me that my brother and I had been selected for an experiment and we were turning into penguins. It was time for us to leave and be taken to Antarctica. I remember my mom waving goodbye.

As we came to the door, I suddenly felt very short and felt like I was wobbling. We were at one point meandering down the city street and a big brown dog came up to me and tried to eat me! The scientist offered no or little help. Then after I fought the big brown dog off I saw a vulture and I knew I would have the same problem with him. Luckily the scientist came to rescue my brother and me in a black limo, running over the vulture. This was lucky because there was an alligator not far behind as well.

Once my brother and I were safe inside, I suddenly had the urge to eat raw fish. We drove all over I think it was North America until we came to the ocean and the limo turned into a deep sea submarine. Soon we arrived in Antarctica I saw others like me. Apparently they too were turned into penguins but they could still only see their human self as that is what they had been conditioned to believe. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t see my penguin body, but my normal human self.

To test my readiness for penguin-hood they placed me in the cold ocean water. I panicked and nearly froze from the cold. They said it wouldn’t take long so they placed my brother and me on a fancy ice sculpture. I followed the other human to penguin experiments to the top. I suddenly realised this was my new life and I have to take care of my brother. I realised I had to feed him by eating fish and vomiting it back into his mouth as he was just a little baby penguin. He however rejected it because he did not understand what was going on. I then tried again by vomiting into my hand and offering it too him. I told him it was eggs and mushrooms, his favourite foods. He didn’t believe me.

P.S. The humour or lack there of thing wasn’t meant to be an insult. It was just my rant for the day.

Thank's Tickle Face!

Dear hopefully respondent readers,

Here is my attempt at being more attentive to my blog. I will start off by making an entire correction. In my previous entry, I stated I got a message regarding my blog which said

“UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE NOW NOW NOW!”

But really is said.

DATE UP DATE UP DATE UP NOW NOW NOW!

Sorry for misleading any dear readers and causing harm to the message sender himself.

It’s hard to believe in nine days I’ll have been in Australia for two years which is two entire babies and then some, but according to Chris,

“When a woman has a baby she gets pregnant for seven months to dog face lady man.”

So if this theory were correct it would be three babies and a bit?

Anyways, I would have written a longer entry last time but lately the computer lab is constantly taken over by entire Brazilians. ENTIRE BRAZILIANS! By about 7 p.m. they smarm in to look at pornography. At around 8:00 Friday night six of them filled the room instantaneously. By 8:15 there were at least eight. I had to make a quick escape before they attempted hitting on me and asking me repeatedly if I am married or speak Portuguese. As I left the room I being polite said see you later bye! To which all six of them in unison said bye! Then one, who is 36 and likes 23 said “I love you!” and smiled at me. I was seriously freaked out and made a hasty exit. Mr. Thirty Six is the creepiest he keeps telling me that I am very beautiful and that he dreams about me, but enough about Brazilians.

I guess I could start with writing about a dream I had that was very confounding or interesting to say the least.

I dreamt a cold snap came to Australia, just like the kind back home in Canada. It was snowy, cold, freezing, but I didn’t feel a thing. I felt quite normal. I was walking down the street enjoying it for some reason. I remember all my friends complaining and I kept saying, “You think this is cold? It’s much worse back home!” The only thing I remember from the cold that was out of place was my feet were really cold because of my boots.

I remember some friends saw me and they offered me a lift. Officer Old was in the car but I didn’t see who was driving as he was sitting in the passenger’s seat. He seemed really happy, but just like real life I couldn’t seem to speak to him. The car was like the cars back home, which is the opposite of Australia. I quickly got in the back seat stopping two other girls from trying to get in because I thought they were evil. I wasn’t successful as one of the girls made it in magically. Suddenly on the way the girl who made it in kept whining how she needed to go to Big W so she could buy underwear and I said I might as well go because I need to check the roster. I think it was my way of keeping the peace.

I then remember walking down a set dodgy stairs to check the rosters. But the railings kept breaking when I held on to it for support and I was for some reason walking around in my bare feet and I kept thinking I really need shoes. I then checked the roster diligently searching for my name, but I couldn’t find it. Feeling distressed I asked a manager what the go was, to which he replied they had to make some cut backs and they’d call me if they needed me. I felt that I was in actual fact fired and felt really anxious and I wanted to cry. I suddenly thought now I am screwed because I’ve lost both my jobs, first Pixi Foto and now Big W. Funnily I felt as though I cause Pixi Foto to be angry with me.

So I not willing to give up went straight to the head manager (who is a very scary lady boss I might add) bare feet and all decided to tell her the situation. I pleaded with her to give me another chance. I said:

“Please can I have my job back because my I am uni and my grandma said she won’t help me if I don’t have a job and I’ll have to go home.”

I was on the brink of tears. The assistant manager who was in the office too, (he is pretty scary too) and he told the head lady boss not to listen to me, but luckily she sighed reluctantly and said “OK.” I felt an overwhelming peace and I replied, very enthusiastically.

“Thanks Tickle Face!”

I suddenly realised I shouldn’t have said that because the manger looked very silent and shocked because I was in fact pointing out a giant fuzzy ticklish looking spider on her shoulder, named Tickle Face who was the real manager of Big W and was helping me all along. I wasn’t supposed to bring attention to this. I suddenly felt panicked and that is where this dream ends.

It’s after that bizarre ending to my dream I thought what the hell? In retrospect I figured out some of the meanings. I am homesick, my grandma who is helping me is Tickle Face as I am not supposed to tell anyone she is helping and reflects some real life fears, mainly the one about getting fired, which is strange because I am willingly going to be fired from Pixi Foto. In fact I keep lying to them and scarily it’s getting easier. It makes me feel unsettled. I am being completely dishonest and yet surprised that I am getting away with it at the same time

I also know how to get ones attention. On Wednesday I saved Jo’s belongings from peril in the laundry room. I wondering when she will come and collect it ask her when are you coming to get your stuff? To which there was no reply. So I resulting to drastic scare tactics text her this.

“My flatmate wants to have a bonfire and your stuff is it. She said she’s sick of looking at your bra!”

To which I was rung at 10 a.m. by a frantic Jo asking.

“What the hell is happening too my stuff!?”

I told her it was merely a joke and a device to get her attention, which let’s face it worked. She said it wasn’t very nice as she a couple of things are family treasures from 50 years ago. I know it wasn’t very nice. Joan, Joan, Joan like I’d let anything happen to your stuff!

This entry was random as my flatmate and I discussing what we should sacrifice to the naked lady statue outside. I’ve given her flowers twice, both symbols of guilt, (if you read last entry you’ll figure it out), an Australian flag, a bird feather and a necklace. Elise says the guy who mows our lawn will be seriously confused. We also discussed giving it bread and chanting to it when our new flatmate arrives to freak her out. Also something as mandatory and equally as random as updating my blog, Song of the Superheroes is now in it’s final stages of completion. I’m now done the third draft and will upload it for your reading pleasure. I think and hope this is the final one.

P.S. NEON MEATE DREAM OF OCTOFISH!

Fake Bookings + Catastrophe = Silly Melissa Giggles

Dear readers I know who read my blog....

What have I been up too since the 13 of January? Quite a bit actually, but for some reason I have neglected my blog for almost an entire month. I plan to write more even if it’s shorter and more pointless than this one. In fact I am updating now because I have been getting friendly reminders from certain people over the last two days.

Reminders that say:

“Update your entire blog!”

“UP DATE UP DATE UP DATE NOW NOW NOW!”

And

“When are you going to update your blog?”

So I am assuming that since there is a sufficient demand for an update I’d better write one. NOW, NOW, NOW!

Anyways I have some exciting news! Guess who made bookings at Pixi Foto recently?

NIGEL BOTTINGTON! At 9 am on Saturday the 23!

And

*Drum roll!*

MRS. LACHLAN’S MUM!!! 40 minutes after Nigel. (Under the pseudo name of Cathy Somerfield…They’ve banned people with the name Such And Such and if I put Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum I think they’d find it rather obvious)

Daniel Hillard from Mrs. Doubtfire made a booking at 10:20 too!

Then 3 people are being rung up at a later day by them…

ASHLEIGH MCGLONAGICK!! She want’s pictures to send to Scotland (Again if I put Neptune…)

PHILIS PHILMORE (Has a request that close up shots are made because she is worried she won’t fit in the camera shots)

NORMA NORMINGTON! She are wants nice pictures too!!!

This prospect of booking my superheroes characters gives me entire silly Melissa giggles.

They will also be calling

Janet Weis and Brad Majors from Rocky Horror Picture Show

And Robin Hobb the famous author

As well as a clever play on words…

PAT SMEARS! (Think Pap Smear) Because they love to talk about them so much! In fact one time I heard them talking about their ovaries while a lady in a pram meandered by.

And just for Chris Laura Honeysome…

Along with other random people who don’t exist. Who knew that fake people were more keen to book than real ones. Case in point I intend to leave my dastardly job with an entire bang.

I’ve had a tyrannical obsession with sticking it to Pixi Foto for the last two days now. I feel kind of bad, but then again Mrs. Amazing James Dean Lady is only giving me three hours next week so to that I say...see you later! They are proud of my sudden amazing rise in my rates, that will be until they call the adult shop, Later Day Saints (Mormons), Jehovah’s Witnesses, another REAL photo studio, escorts, septic tank treatments, pregnancy termination services, Jenny Craig and others I can’t remember.

I am going to be in so much trouble. However, I must give 50 -70 % credit to my flatmate Elise who told me I should do it!

This all started when I had my first talking to by my manager at Pixi Foto by Miss Amazing James Dean Lady. Apparently when she wanted me to get some dastardly unrealistic amount of bookings in a half hour I rolled my eyes. But not only did I roll my entire eyes I did so in the presence of a potential recruit into her anti nerd nerdy retarded army of photographers. I say anti because they are on a different level than me. Don’t get me wrong I like Miss Amazing James Dean Lady and her sidekicks Fig-Lady and Jam-Woman, but they have amazingly high expectations and demands on my promoting ability. Apparently I should be bringing in more for the $18 an hour they pay me and if I don’t get my rate up there is no point in keeping me around. It’s not my fault if they have gotten them done before, have their own cameras, don’t have the money to pay or have many other legitimate excuses. Case in point I am looking for another job…AN ENTIRE NEW JOB! So now it’s evident I will leave this job with catastrophic outcomes for both parties.

Not to mention they make me feel like an outcast because I feel more smart then them. For instance Fig-Lady assumed where I live will be affected by the flood coming to Rocky. I felt like saying I live on higher ground you twat! Yes the water is going to roll up the hill…But I didn’t because it wouldn’t have been nice.

This is also the first time in my life I rejected someone. I’ve never been in this situation before. I am usually the rejected not the rejecter! I won’t go into much details nor, will I mention who it is because my friends know the entire story and that’s pretty much all the counts. I feel pretty horrible about potentially breaking someone’s heart, but I was told this is normal. It’s not my fault if I am not attracted to him in that way. I think if I did like him I would want him in that way, which I don’t. I think there has to be passion, butterflies, can’t eat, can’t sleep, dwelling in my dreams like some sort of reoccurring character. Even if they happen to say NO NEVER! To you while in dream land. Apparently, love of this kind is dangerous and unhealthy according to someone. Sadly I don’t see this person’s point! I’ll like who I like even if it’s unrequited because one day you never know if someone special will come along. Hev-Lady always said that these kinds of feelings are natural. It’s what makes us loving and caring beings. I agree. I just hope I made the right decision.

P.S. I have more I could write, but I’ll save that for another entry! Sorry I've been gone so long

MY ENTIRE LIFE!

Dear readers of the universe,

A few minutes before writing this I saw an episode of Royal Canadian Air Farce in which there were politically incorrect pregnant old lady men. To which they said the best thing about being old is being able to say whatever you want.

The 26 of December last year was the last time I updated which would mean I haven’t written in my blog in at least a few weeks? So what have I been up to since I neglected my electronic space of endless thoughts and musings? Work, sleep, occasional partying (more than usual I might add) and an ear infection. Sounds exciting doesn’t it?

On New Years Eve last year I was forced into hugging a drunk girl who was crying for some reason, smelled bad and kept babbling about snorkels. This year was way different. I’ll just leave it at that.

I could write an entire entry about 2007 in retrospective but it seems kind of redundant if you want to know what happened last year you can read previous entries. The only major thing I think happened was deciding to stay in Australia for now by finding some amazingly clever loophole and finishing Song of the Superheroes.

As for Song of the Superheroes I know I said I finished it in October but, I am still technically working on it. I am writing the third draft in which I am going over some plot errors and fixing it up a bit. I could have it finished sooner, but I’ve been too tired to write. In fact one of my New Years Resolutions is to get back to my writing I feel like I’ve neglected my craft. I am also attempting write the sequel which is rather garbled. I think its coming together differently than Song of the Superheroes. However it is likely to be just as dastardly weird and random. I even have a new main character and other characters as well.

My job at Pixi Foto has turned out to be the most amazingly challenging job I have ever had in my entire life. My friend Phillip keeps paying me out saying who would honestly want photos taken? Oddly he showed up at work on Wednesday to which I proved to him that people do want them. I got an entire lead, which is basically a call them back later. Ha so there! He still keeps paying me out though. I believe people for some insane reason do want portraits done you just have to find them. Its like finding an entire needle in a very aggressive go away I hate you type haystack. It’s challenging which is one of the reasons I like it and hate it equally. Everyone tells me to quit and I think about quitting at least once ever other shift, but I am going to stick with it and prove that I can do it. Besides I can’t go now I finally got my Pixi Foto name badge which makes it official.

I also meet some interest people at Pixi Foto. Yesterday I met two Canadians, which strangely made me seriously excited. I now actually agree when some say there is a difference between the Canadian and American accent. Also they were from Calgary which is three hours from Lethbridge where I used to live.

So I not wanting to pass up the opportunity asked the Canadian guy the one question I’ve always wanted to ask another Canadian if in fact I ever ran into one. Do you often get mistaken for American? And once corrected on the true nationality do they apologise profusely? In fact he was mistaken for American earlier that morning. We all kind of agreed that it’s kind of annoying and somewhat insulting to me mistaken for our neighbours south of the border but it’s not enough to get cranky because it is an honest mistake. These two Canadians were an obviously not interested in getting portraits taken, but were randomly looking for camping gear. I then helped my fellow countryman and woman by giving them directions to Big W or Kmart which would most definitely have what they were looking for. Before this I met one Danish and two Austrians. Yesterday was a very international day.

Not to mention I keep meeting random people who have seen me at both jobs and ask me why I have two jobs. It’s none of there friggen business that’s what! It keeps me busy, sane, sheltered and fed and that’s what matters. I don’t have to explain nothing.

P.S. I apparently have an entire boyfriend.