Monday, August 31, 2009

What Fuels Me?

  1. Juice when I wake up.

  2. Getting what's on my mind down on paper.

  3. A good one-on-one conversation.

  4. Cracking a great joke.

  5. Installing new software/hardware.

  6. Finding a new song.

  7. The first sight/date/kiss/so on...

  8. Soft Drink/Ribena.

  9. Accomplishment.

  10. Receiving a compliment.

  11. Good manners.

  12. Plans tonight.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Hung Up

I have some important decisions to make in my life, because what I have lived of it so far has been spent carrying the excess of my past. For a few years, it was one thing after another, like the time that should have been spent thinking things over and speaking up was in fact spent facing my next ordeal. The point is, what had to be said was not said, and the amount of times that I have lost sleep at night over my past is a clear indication that I am not well.

It's like a page of paperwork, and each time I would go to do it, I would get called out to deal with another situation, each of which makes an additional page to accompany that situation, so gradually, ordeal after ordeal, the tedious one page of paperwork accumulates into a pile. So, eventually the block of paper and emery becomes a part of the furniture, just another part of my desk that I choose to accept like a mouse pad or a pen and unlike those items, the pile has no use yet it takes up this chunk of space I could be using more productively, this is much the same with how I’ve dealt with my problems, I’ve let it linger in my brain for so long that it’s become an anchor, and unfortunately it could and has become a great toll on the way I associate with the people that I want to keep around and frightens those that I want around.

So let’s weigh the options of the average person: optimism, memory and unanswered questions will remain; change, a myth; comparing me with those that are much worse-off, who said anything about anybody else here? So, what is left? I mean, getting closure is the only solution that comes to mind. You see, the root of my problem is not that it happened; it's that I let most of the people get away with what they did, and the self-loathing and anger has been building ever since. Does that mean that I make like John Cusack in High Fidelity, make a top five and civilly confront those of my past? I mean getting my questions answered would ultimately wash my hands of ex-whatevers, or will these calls be rejected in fear of actually facing me? Do I have nothing to lose or will it further humiliate me as a result, leaving me even more tempered? Do I risk making this worse than it is? If I messaged you tonight, would I get a reply? Will the emails get a response? If I really put myself out there for the first time in a long while with the people who have alienated me, will the situation be rejected with immaturity or have we all grown up enough to speak without our public word posting?

See, this isn’t some proclamation of depression or tears of solemn unhappiness, I’m not unhappy about who it is I’ve become and what I have learned, however, lonely is what I don’t wish to be but it’s where my hang-ups are leading me. Honestly though, in all seriousness, I truly believe that my only two options at this point (options of an uncommon person) are: an attempt at pocketing whatever closure I can scrape from my plate or forking out the cash that is needed for therapy. Regardless of my final decision, I need to work out my issues, and as a young adult going onto adulthood, I don’t want to spend it thinking about some idiot that would forget that I existed if it wasn’t for our mutual acquaintances; it’s not on.

Monday, August 17, 2009

No Vision

I hate 3OH!3. That’s right, hate, it’s a very strong word, and I am using it.
So, after months upon months of bitching, here is a blog to accompany my utter dislike for the idiots who make 3OH!3 and, more specifically, there hit Don’t Trust Me.

Now, not only do I happen to know that that here are two sell-outs who got signed by a relatively new label called Photo Finish Records, probably as bad as the bands they sign judging by the company’s shocking name, my dislike delves a tad deeper, it’s my defence of Helen Keller.

Let me tell you a little something about who Helen Keller was: Helen Keller was an outspoken political writer who loudly and openly opposed the things she didn’t think were right with the world. For as long as I have been writing, I have collected countless quotes into numerous word processing documents, some of which were once articulated by Keller herself. Keller once said “The most pathetic person in the world is someone who has sight but has no vision.”, that one’s my favourite, now read the blurb of this blog; I will leave you to spot the similarities for yourself. And that was only off the top of my head; a quick Google search tells me that she wrote her first piece when she was eleven (even though it was unintentionally plagiarised; don’t ask, do the research and you’ll understand), she was practically blind yet she saw more than a lot of people have in the world that don’t even need glasses, in other words, she was a journalistic genius; and look at her now, it’s been over forty years since her death, and she has now been denounced from a genius to some silly lyric, from an intelligent writer to a shallow fusion of written words; now that’s a travesty if I ever saw one.

I am also quite pleased to point out that just when you were probably thinking that I am the only person on the globe that has a problem with the reference, the version of the song sold and aired (and maybe even performed) in the UK had to have the reference cut from it; that’s right, it’s me…and then the opinion of a nation.

So, to every kid who has heard Don’t Trust Me come on the radio or has at one point bounced around in a nightclub singing about how Helen Keller talks with her hips, to every person that has no idea who Keller was but still continued to sing it and put money into the song’s sales, you are as bad as the people that she once stated as having ‘no vision’. On that note, my assumption is that the lyric refers to the actor (or actors) that portrayed her, not the woman herself, which makes that point as incorrect as it is irrelevant. I just hope that this is the last I have to write about 3OH!3, or any other band who decides to make invalid references (likeParkwayDrive; oops!).

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Shh, Can't Talk

If I cannot converse, crack a joke or socially connect in general, I will have a terrible time. It’s not in my character to be quiet, I am not a quiet person, but when it comes down to engaging in an activity which requires focus, my whole grip on demonstrating my social abilities can tend to go astray. At work, stress is almost guaranteed; when I was at TAFE, most of the time my only interest was trying to get out in one fell swoop, so as a result of goal, I often subconsciously force humour and conversation into non-existence.

I don’t like who I am at work. On my first shift, I knew it was going to be a taxing and stressful job, and now, it has come down to feeling like I am always arguing or never being able to have a good laugh with the people I work with, and I mean, how can someone value a friendship with a boring or angry person, someone that appears to have no character at all? My only real chance to connect is at work-related social-gatherings, even then though, the happiness that comes over me socially can, in some minds, be outweighed by the times at work that my mood has taken a new low.

At TAFE, it wasn’t my crowd. I felt like an alien when I would converse with the people I went to class with. My jokes were misunderstood and frowned upon, films that I would mention were unheard of, as with any other reference; I was on a different planet. However, there was one girl that I connected on several different levels with, but after she dropped out, I pretty much spent the remainder of the year on my lonesome with my head down and my pen to paper; I dislike this person also, because it’s just not me.

Thing is, I have modes, and often in those modes, conversation is put to a minimum. Outside of a shift or class, I am a different person, but unless my work and class mates see a reason to socialise with me outside of their obligations, how will they see the real me and not the misconception of who I am when my mind is required elsewhere? Bottom line is I don’t want people to misjudge simply because I am hard at work; I’m not dull.

" The most wasted of all days is one without laughter. "
- E. E. Cummings
I had to add this in. - 30/10/09

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Attractively Unattractive

You know what, I feel like I am disapproving of everyone. I’m not sure if it’s just me or what, but it’s all fun and amusing to meet girls in clubs, it’s almost exhilarating, especially if you hit it off, but I find that most of the girls that you could meet clubbing are, to put it bluntly, only fit for a one-night-stand. Now, I am not stating that every female that goes clubbing is some sort of slut, but when I walk into a club, all I see is a bunch of drunken girls with hardly any clothes on, and there is no way that I could date anyone of the myriad of girls who possess that type of clubbing routine; It’s great to look at, sure, but to date, no thanks.

Saturday, August 8, 2009


I love feature films so much, but the thing I love more than films are their several different installments and the drawn-out development of story involved in making those installments. I love a film that I can either correctly predict what will happen because the next movie was released ten years ago or be able to relate back to the previous escapades of each of the characters; it adds some reality to the storyline. With all of that being said, here is my current list of movies I am eager to see.
  • Funny People (10th September, 2009 AU) - IMDb
  • Well, it's the third masterpiece that Judd Apatow will soon be able to sit on his mantle-piece, followed by The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. Writing and directing Funny People, alongside cast and close friends, Adam Sandler and Seth Rogen, and wife, Leslie Mann. There is not a great laugh that Apatow hasn’t brought to our screens like Superbad, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Pineapple Express, Anchorman, Year One, and, even the box-office fail, the cable guy (which I loved, by the way); can't wait.
  • Get Him to the Greek (11th of June, 2010 US) - IMDb
  • Another Apatow Production; a spin-off of Forgetting Sarah Marshall, with the return of Russell Brand’s character, Aldous Snow. Also starring Jonah Hill.
  • Toy Story 3 (24th June, 2010 AU) - IMDb
  • There was a moment where I believed that this project had been scrapped, you see, due to Pixar and Disney’s ownership and differences on certain intricacies of the series, this movie had to be delayed for years after its slated release (which was years back). So, finally, upon the release of the teaser trailer, my mind was put at ease. Plus, I am excited about Michael Keaton’s involvement.
  • Arrested Development (2010 US) - IMDb
  • Fantastically cynical, yet somewhat short-lived TV show, now turned movie. All cast will return, as well as executive producer (and hopefully, narrator) Ron Howard.
  • Austin Powers 4 (2010 US or NEVERLAND) - IMDb
  • I am quite skeptical as to if this will actually be made or not. As far as IMDB is concerned, this has been announced with Jay Roach directing, as far as I am concerned, this is only wishful talk of Mike Myers, which I have a feeling that Jay Roach, director of the previous three films in the franchise, is reluctant to have a hand in. If this does actually happen, it will quite possibly flop; however, it still has my sixteen dollars.
  • Bond 23 (2011 UK) - IMDb
  • I love the 007 series. The moment I leave the theatre of the latest James Bond flick is the moment I begin counting down to the next one. Synopsis is unknown, same to say about the cast as well, apart from Daniel Craig and Judi Dench as they are casted by contract.
  • Little Fockers (2011 US) - IMDb
  • A.k.a. Meet the Parents 3 - Please don't. You know how they say don't ruin a good thing; well I have a gut feeling this is risking it. Meet the Parents was great, and Meet the Fockers only trumped it, now it's time to leave it there. Perhaps Jay Roach's return as director is a plus; however he made the same mistake with Austin Powers in Goldmember, and look where that put that series.
  • Alien Prequel (2011 US) - IMDb
  • Ridley Scott, who made Alien, the first in the series, will be returning for a prequel, that’s the good news, the bad news however is that Sigourney Weaver will be absent, however, if her character were to be in the prequel, the story would make no sense.
  • Monopoly: The Movie (2011 US) - IMDb
  • It is a movie... based on a board game and, wait for Ridley Scott! I am so curious.
  • Ghostbusters 3 (2012 US) - IMDb
  • Although I am not too pleased about it being animated, I am nevertheless happy about the film in general and the return of the full cast, including Ramis and Ackroyd as the writers, excluding Sigourney Weaver’s character for some strange reason.
  • Monsters Inc. 2 (2012 US) - IMDb
  • Not only was I a big fan of the first installment, but I am a Billy Crystal fan, so this release will hopefully bring him out of hiding (along with his other upcoming films).
So, if not all, most of this list will have me seeing them on the silver-screen once they shoot into theatres. This list isn't definitive, though, so I trust that there will be more.

EDIT: Fixed some mistakes & added an IMDb link for each of the movies. 9/8/09

Friday, August 7, 2009

Familiar Feeling

Location realisation - It's like automatic pilot. I am partially absent for the trip there, deep in thought, then I return to the world upon arrival; most recently, this happened to me the other day in the city. It was like whoa, I was once home and now I am actually here; how did I get here, and so quickly?.

It usually occurs at work or the city and is often caused by the change of atmosphere, a transformation from the quiet solitude of my home to something considerably busier like the dark busy room of people at work or the sea of people amongst the enormous buildings which compliment Sydney's city skyline.

It is a single moment, only minuscule to the rest of my day, but its general significance is euphoric. It is the loudest moment of my day, a moment where the most happens around me, where I am completely exposed to whatever treatment the public eye can hand me; one bump brings me back. It's similar to a recurring dream I used to have as a child, where there would just be nothing, an infinite white room maybe, in which I was tiny and paralysed, and sounds, massive beats and thumps that held a lot of bass behind them, and I lay tiny, listening to the almost deafening and unknown noises; I have no idea what this means, however, I do associate the two.

So, you're probably thinking man, he is nuts for having that dream and to be honest, I might just be, but fortunately, a lot of other people share that trait, if I do happen to possess it, that is.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Friday the Thirty First

I can’t honestly say that I have ever done the whole journalistic type recount of my day before, not just on cyberspace, but any type of medium, because, to be blunt, I find them hard to read. I often fill this domain with compilations of my thoughts of the particular moments and occurrences that happen in one of those days, either accumulatively or just singularly, so, a rare change is due.

So, here we go – It was Friday the 31st of July and much like the rest of the herd, it’s my favourite day of the week, not only because it ends a usually hard week, but because it is my day of working during the actual daylight and doing whatever I like under the moonlight, as opposed to my usual nocturnal days of waking up late and working into early the next morning.

Scurried to the bus stop to catch the piece of junk they call buses around here, it was practically at the stop waiting for me; what I call a smooth morning. One thing I need to point out, the entire street can be clean, not one sign of litter on my short journey, and then when I get to my bus stop, tissues everywhere, strewn across the lawn…I mean, I have a thing about tissues, make me upchuck, please.

Got to work quite promptly; day-shifts are amusing at the CafĂ© I work at in terms of the array of people we are forced to serve. A night-shift you are faced with your run-of-the-mill bunch of idiots, yet during the day there is a bit more to it than that, let me elaborate; you have your analytic bunch that have so much precision in their ordering process, it’s amazing, it can go from something page three like the temperature of a coffee to something nuts like the width of the slices of fruit that we sell, both of which occurred today; then you have your polite crew - on a day-shift, I almost never have to ask how are you? twice to receive a response, and to trump that, they often ask back, and this could be for a number of reasons, one, it’s the fresh new morning, two, we often get intelligent people on their way to or from work or, three, they haven’t been waiting in line for forty-five minutes; you also will get your fair share of kids who purchase our cheapest item, which angers me simply because it’s this grand symbolism on how predictable and unadventurous kids are with spending their money, saving up will get you something better than a small container of milk chocolate; and finally, you get your “Max Brenner Runs” where an office has sent someone with a list of things to fetch, let me stress that reading off of a list that is often written by people who know how to order properly is maybe the easiest venture when taking orders. Personally, day-shifts also mean that I can enjoy the fact that I have something to look forward to for whatever I am doing post-work, and that I can possibly do next to nothing for the same money I am paid during an off-my-feet night-shift; day-shifts are fantastic. Although, my break would be where I discovered that my plans to drink up with Andy had fallen through, leaving my Friday night to become a lame Friday night.

The concluding half-hour was pretty much me standing around speaking to a work mate making last minute arrangements to salvage my social goings-on for the night; I also spent some time speaking to my good friend, Jess, who was just passing through from school. She wanted her MP3 player back after I pretty much made a best of playlist of my entire music library on her player. Then as she left, Alice surprise visited me to let me know that we weren’t spending the Friday night as a duo (which I already knew), so we decided to hangout for a little after I finished.

So, I finished work, grabbed a Waffle for Alice and we migrated to McDonalds for her to eat it. A good one-on-one conversation was had, which pretty much was me trying to convince her that she shouldn’t be flunking in school. The conversation then died and turned into a party, unfortunately. I have a real thing about numbers; I often rather enjoy a one-on-one with people rather than a four plus people crowding around. When this happens, it suddenly turns into one of those groups who loiter, they disturb peace and I want no contribution when that happens, it also would happen that any intelligent conversation can hardly survive when in groups; essentially, when people began to arrive, our semi-intelligent conversation depleted and it just transformed into a group of people bored. Notably though, Roberta showed up so it was good to see her for the first time in a long-while. Don’t get me wrong, though, I am not bashing parties or any type of get-together, just when the gathering is in a shopping centre. So, I soon left that, and the group broke up.

Another hunk of crap took me home, once again, waiting for me at the stop, luckily; also, only had a twenty dollar note to give the driver, which is rare for me as I usually try my hardest to always have the exact fare for the bus.

Then my time at home - Anybody that really knows me would know that I spend 99.9% of my time at home in front of my computer, the other 0.1% is spent making food, toileting, cleaning myself or doing my hair. My computer is my life, when it comes to technology, I am very materialistic; it homes my music collection, most of my movies, it types, stores and submits each word that I mash together, it keeps me connected with friends, it’s where I read my news, not to mention, a large fraction of most of my reading comes from it’s screen, and it does a tonne of other things. So with that being said, my time in the late afternoon was essentially spent catching up on my reading, and by this I mean various articles scattered all over the net. There a two outlets which help me do this, my RSS feeds for and Neowin, which scroll in a marquee across the top of my web browser where I can select whatever interests me from the headline, and then more importantly, my Google Reader account, which holds the rest of my RSS feeds, which I am also notified in my web browser about anything from blogs to job openings to MySpace comments I don’t want to miss out on in my absence from the site. There was a casual job for 3, not interested, there were a bunch of posts from a tech-geek Chris Pirillo, one from this brilliant writer I only stumbled across the other day here, there were also some from Geekolgie which I have Andrea to thank for turning me onto. Then I got the message, letting me know where to meet and so forth.

So, it was a bunch of time getting ready with the constant mirror poses, hair-teasing and too much cologne, then waiting around, then killing time with mum and showing her a bunch of Fail videos on YouTube posted by the Fail Blog; she was in hysterics. So finally, I got the message that they were on their way to the city, so mum offered me a lift to the station, which was great, saved a lot of hassle. Got to the station, had to wait and watch the Sydney Terminal express train go because I didn’t want to have to do the hike from Central to Town Hall, so I killed the twenty minutes watching Quantum of Solace on my MP3 player, trying to gather a somewhat positive opinion on the film; pulling it out probably wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. So, the train ride was a little heated; a young African dude having a chinwag on his phone in his native tongue sat in the seat in front and some white drunk guy sat across the aisle. As the train progressed further along the Western Line, drunk guy begins to get a little bit agitated by the black man’s talking, then subsequently begins to tell the man to shut up and that he should go fight that guy, pointing to an Indian guy also on his mobile having a conversation, this of course was right before he pulled out a colossal bottle of Victoria Bitter and began to skull it; respect to the African guy for not kicking his head in, plus that would’ve made me late.

I arrived, got a call pretty much simultaneously with my train stopping at Town Hall, waited at the bus stops across from Town Hall near the Woolworths, and almost literally jumped into a car to be greeted by my work mate, Gladys, her boyfriend, Lawrence, which I knew, and there two friends, Ven, the designated driver, and Ryan (I think). We parked, detoured to an ATM where Lawrence insisted that we don’t go near the Commonwealth teller’s only twenty metres away; paranoid. Then to the line at our destination, Havana on Oxford St, King’s Cross, Sydney. The line continued after the security check, a nice man waved a wand in front of my body and signalled me through, up the stairs, paid twenty-five bucks, and in we were.

Lawrence mentioned how your first moments in a club are the full force, with the blast of music and the lights; this was correct. I have always found clubs funny, funny in the way that they are the biggest crock of shit. With Fridays and Saturdays (and whatever other night) pouring in people paying twenty five dollars each simply for admission then each downing countless ten dollar drinks, it’s the ultimate money-making scheme. Hey, let’s put some flashy lights up, a bar and a guy that sits behind a sounding board and his laptop and I am a millionaire! It’s the main reason I avoid clubs, each time I have been clubbing since the law has allowed me to, I have always set a dollar limit for myself so that I can prevent waking up the next day with a hangover in my bank account; so, once I have hit that limit, I spend no more. My limit is always set when standing at the ATM shortly before entering, last night, I chose sixty-dollars, plus of course, the two dollars I was charged for not using a St George or Westpac teller machine. I knew beforehand, but if not told, I would have worked it out almost immediately, it was an Asian club, an assortment of gorgeous Asian girls with their massive boyfriends; I won’t say that I was the only white person there last night, but you know, I was one on the wrong side of a ratio. Three Smirnoff Double Blacks and a Long Island Ice Tea later, and it was time to go. Quick stop off at McDonalds, and I was then dropped off at home. I am not too sure why, but I have this habit, there will be all the light in the world in the car, but I always wait to get to my door before pulling out my keys, simply so I am forced to fumble around and try to fit keys into my door like I am trying to do a Jigsaw-Piece Puzzle until I can get the right one, I must do this for both the normal lock, and the dead-lock; it’s retarded.

So, I spent seventy-two dollars all up, not including my McChicken Bacon Deluxe. So, getting home, for some reason, as drunk as a skunk, I jumped on my computer thinking that reading words would be simple, yeah, it wasn’t. With my eyes almost touching my monitor, I called it a night, giggling myself to bed.

Luckily for me and my work shift I have tonight, I am absolutely without a hangover, as per usual, however, I woke up with the driest mouth, a drought was occurring within my body, at one point, I woke up, had two full glasses of apple juice and went back to sleep; I was so dehydrated.

And that was my day, and my gosh, that is my recount, he exclaimed two thousand words later. Do you now see why I do not like to recount; anyway, a pinch and a punch for the first day of the month.

Stay safe.