Singing Another Song About A Gender I’ll Never Understand

I went CD shopping in an attempt to redeem my less-than-stellar mood. It was the best decision I ever made. Even if I am now currently broke.

I went to JB HiFi at Glendale, which I haven’t really been to much because it got built when I was away, and I barely noticed that it was even there. I went once before, and found a Regina Spektor import, which was pretty cool then, I guess. Today, though, was the best CD experience I have had. I couldn’t stop grinning. I guess I do that alot though.  Pity I have such a grin, I guess.

I was just picking up the albums that I had been craving for months, and one of the employees came over and saw that I’d picked up Wincing the Night Away (finally), and he just started talking to me about his music collection (3000 apparently, it sounds epic, but after spending an hour talking to him about music I’d believe him). He also recommended a band called Band of Horses, which I ended up getting, although I’m not entirely sure why. He totally got the whole difference between Newcastle and Sydney attitudes though, which was awesome, because I think alot of the time people just think that I’m a snob, ha.

The most amazing part of the entire experience was just a question that he asked me. We were talking about having favourite songs, and the need to write down lists so that you can have them on paper, and out of your head, and he just asked “if your life was a movie, what would the five songs on the soundtrack be?”. I just blinked, and said that is the greatest question I have ever heard. Needless to say, it has been driving me mad ever since.

I don’t think this is perfect, yet, but this is my five so far:

- such great heights by the postal service (duh) because even if  I haven’t been listening to it lately, I still see it as the most perfect song. Also, I really do have eye freckles.

-  the two sides of monsieur valentine by spoon, because I heart spoon, I heart gimme fiction, and I heart this song more than anything.

- last nite by the strokes because I just love it.

- for the girl by the fratellis because you have to love the love and hate of it all, I guess.

- kill the director by the wombats because it was going through my head for hours during a dramatic climax recently, it’s also a really good song.

I don’t know, I probably have to rethink it all, but that’s my five for now.

I am so excited to see the wombats in March!

Her Majesty’s a Pretty Nice Girl (But She Doesn’t ‘ave Alot to Say)

I already posted about this, but since now I am in a less hysterical state, and can rationally evaluate the situation a little bit more I thought that I’d post a bit again. I am moving back to Sydney on Sunday, which, even though everyone else seems to think is insane. I don’t think you could blame them. I am going back to college, a place where the greatest appeal lies in its ability to connect you with people, and to almost force you to interact in ways that create friendships, but in reality, for a few long weeks, at least, I am going to be almost alone there. I still don’t think it’s a bad idea. For a few reasons, really.

I definitely need a job. It’s dreadful to exist in endless days of the most oppressive freedom I’ve ever experienced. It’s crazy to be stuck in a cycle that doesn’t prevent you from doing anything, but seems to be against everything you’re craving. Like structure. I don’t have anything to even write lists about, my post-its are lying discarded on the floor. I just need a job, I need something to do, I need to meet new people. I’m slowly going the way of crazy. Don’t blink, or I’m scared that I might suddenly reappear as a cat lady.

I need to move forward especially since being home has this ridiculous power to make me feel like moping is such a good idea. Just being in my room, alone, during the daytime is enough to make me think about the bad things that have happened, and I start thinking in circles. I could solve all my problems with Mindfulness Meditation, according to the Psych1001 paper I wrote, as it prevents rumination, the scariest thing I can think of (ha!). I don’t want to be a downer, or anything, but if I don’t go out then I’m never going to get out of my current funk. Everything feels like it has stopped in Black Hill. Black Hill is such a lovely place, but I cannot pretend I ever want to live here again. As soon as I leave this time I am determined not to come back.

I would also escape from living beneath the thumb of my mother, which I don’t really resent for any reason other than the fact that it is there at all. I can’t understand how people haven’t all left home, and I don’t understand how even my older brother returns home every summer to live under someone else’s roof. College doesn’t really give me the responsibilities of actually living on my own, I do realise that, but it’s not like someone needs to know where I am, it’s not like I need to be responsible for anything except me because it’s not going to hurt anyone else.

Most importantly, I guess, is the fact that I just absolutely miss Sydney.  I have loved Sydney to death since I saw it, and I have never wanted to live anywhere else. Despite what my resume may have implied (and I am sorry to my previous employers!) I never ever even wanted to go to University anywhere else, I never even applied to a University that wasn’t USyd (only two courses, unluckily one was the one I had accidentally been accepted into) or UTS. I want to go home.

I miss mostly living in the centre of everything, of feeling like the entire campus was mine, of lying in parks reading, of spontaneously deciding to be somewhere and then actually get there within ten minutes. I miss my friends from Sydney, and although they won’t all be back, they won’t be gone forever. The roar of Sydney traffic on Parramatta road is my heart beat, and I don’t know how I live without it. I stopped waking up to car alarms, and horns, but instead I can hear birds and cicadas, and it’s really driving me mad. Sydney doesn’t hold my greatest memories, lately, but I’m willing to forgive it and to find something else I can look back on without the inevitable straining of my chest.

The familiarity of Sydney somehow overcomes everything I was so used to in Black Hill, which is a weird experience. I can’t wait to return. It’s going to be scary, but it’s going to be nice.

I think I need to remember who I know in Sydney and maybe talk some stuff through, because I don’t know why but I feel confused.

Less whimsically, and with more sense than such ramblings, I haven’t really mentioned my brother’s twenty-first party, which was on Australia Day. I didn’t really want to spend my entire day with a group of people that would most likely be my younger brother’s basketball cronies drinking illegally, so I went to a picnic with Grace, Jack, Rachel, Andrew, and Maddi, which was weird, as I haven’t seen her at all since I finished school. That was nice. Somehow, despite sitting in the shade I got my back entirely sunburnt. I think that it was actually quite bad because I felt it sting in the middle of the night for days. That’s probably not the most encouraging sign. I’m almost scared to sit outside, but the sun is so inviting!

Later, I came back home, but didn’t go outside for a while. What am I to talk about with a bunch of boys? I am not exactly the most extroverted girl. Then Renee came, with her sister and sister’s friends, who, incidentally I adore. I went outside, and it was just nice. It was completely relaxed, I wish all parties that I went to were like it. Drinking was present, obviously, but it wasn’t the focus. I don’t know why, but I am not really inclined to drink at the moment. Who knows what will happen? College doesn’t exactly breed abstainers. It’s not like I am going to be pressured into it, though. I’ll probably just do it when I feel like it again.

I spent alot of the time talking to Renee because it seems so hard to pin her down alot of the time. I also spent a while talking to formal date Ben, who is my brother’s ‘number two best friend’ (quoted quite literally). He’s so nice, and unbelievably tall! He is formal date Ben because he was my formal date, Ben, for the College formal last October, and he was taller than me even in my highest heels, which was encouraging, to say the least. He’s such a good guy, although essentially my older brother is too even if he does seem to hide away from commitments, and tends to be a manwhore. He was really easy to talk to, I almost wish he didn’t live in Wollongong (ha!). I’m not very serious about caring, though, my brother doesn’t even know that we kissed. I don’t know what he’d think, it could be awkward. I’m not sure that he even likes me in any particularly special way because I’m always worried that my brother’s friends are all just like my him, although probably not. Who knows? It’s almost entirely irrelevant.

I’m not sure what the point of this post was, really, I just suddenly needed to type things into the faceless audience that I pretend reads this at some point. This whole system would work just as well if no one read it, I just have a new found love for writing senseless drivel and sending it into the great unknown. I would love it more if I was anonymous, although I suppose that I essentially am. James knows who I am, obviously, and he linked it from his blog, so all of the people that link from there know who I am (which is probably why they even click the link..) but none of the rest of my life knows that this is here. And it’s nice. I like to share a piece of myself without really wanting anything in return.

Why being Really Lonely can sometimes be Super Awesome

Unfortunately this is not JD’s latest blog entry. Fortunately I have season six of Scrubs to watch right now.

Super fortunately I’m moving back to Sydney on Sunday. Super super fortunately I am going to befriend the American girl who is going to live next door. Super super super fortunately I’m enrolling at UTS on Monday so it’s going to be super official. Super super super super fortunately I’m fricking excited.

For excessive use of the word frick blame Elliott Reed.

my heart says danke scheon

I don’t think I’ve been passionate about anything since I finished school and I think that scares me. I want to change, I’m hoping to change. I think I have the reason to change because I’m going to be good at something again, but I don’t know if I will. I’ve always been passive, but have at least had something to be passionate about. I hope it comes back. I miss the crazy competitive mark-scrubbing girl that graduated high school.
I’m passIVE but I’m craving passION.

I was in a really bad mood this afternoon and I was driving somewhere when my plans fell through and I didn’t want to turn around and go home so I drove to the cinema. There’s nothing like the darkness of a movie theatre to calm you down. You get forced to watch the screen and can’t dwell for too long on the irrationality of your psyche. I don’t understand why people would want to go together, it seems like such a solitary expedition. I saw two girls from school, though, and they asked me to sit with them. I didn’t refuse, I didn’t want to reestablish my biatchy high school reputation, really. Afterwards we were walking out and they mentioned something about our mutual, all girls english class. I really hated that class, and so I told them. Then they asked me why, and I told them how I hated the stupid, unrelated, baseless drivel that most of the girls up the front used to spout off with at any given pause in the lesson. Sometimes eve n during the lesson, so no wonder I am still dismayed with my abysmal hsc mark. Then I realised I was talking about them.
I think that’s when they did too.

OneTwoThreeFour

I was listening to ‘Lazy Sundays’ on Triple J which make me miss Roy and HG so much, but Claire Bowditch and Libby Chow were interviewing Sally Seltmann who wrote Feist’s song “1234″.

I now have that song utterly wedged into my brain.

It’s super cute, super melancholy but I kind of feel like that.

It’s nice.

Also, I fricking hate those fricking animals fricking singing fricking ridiculous things on the fricking ringtone ads. Almost as fricking much as the fricking people that fricking buy the fricking beasts.

Friday I’m In Love

At least, last Friday I was. With the Big Day Out. Because despite the inevitable crowd rage, the inexplicable sun burn, the growing hatred for all human kind and the irrational anger that Erin attributed to me wearing four shirts I got to see so many bands and rock out for almost twelve hours straight.

I saw tonnes of bands, some that I loved and some that I don’t so much. I missed most of British India, which was sad, but I saw the last song “Black & White Radio” which was so good! Then I saw the crazily physical Cut Off Your Hands, who really aren’t so hardcore as their name implies. The lead singer was the cutest thing I have ever seen, and he might not know it yet but we’re getting married. Despite having a broken foot, apparently from jumping off of a balcony, he was very exciting to watch. He even climbed the side of the stage, which, of course every other frontman seemed to attempt, but his spectacle was all the more impressive for having a fractured limb. I loved them! I have heard them in parts, but never whole like this so that was great. I mean, who wouldn’t love them? They pretty much are the only band selling frisbees so…like if you want a good summer you know…you should buy one…

My anticipated highlight was Spoon, duh, but whilst waiting for them I caught most of the Enter Shikari (or…something) show. Another crazily physical thing to see, but it was so fun. No broken legs, but a broken sense of fashion was exhibited quite freely. Apparently they are some bizarre brand of “screamo-trance” which is not the most attractive genre, but I really liked them anyway. I’m not sure about their album, I’ll have to get it, but they had such audacity that it was hard to hate them. All I can say is that next time I will get involved! and form a circle!

Spoon were really good as well, I had read things and wasn’t sure. They weren’t the most engaging band, but I didn’t mind. Britt Daniel even attempted to assuage the insane security people who kept spraying us with the hoses despite the fact that it wasn’t hot, the sun was barely out, and we weren’t even moshing. The lack of a mosh was the best part, I think. I was about a metre from the stage, which was amazing, and it was just a more intimate setting. Erin’s main comment about them was that the bass player’s pants were ‘fug’. I, on the other hand, totally dug the groove, and when they sang “Got Yr Cherry Bomb” I kind of wished that I could have given them my cherry-bomb. Music is some kind of aphrodisiac.

I also saw Hilltop Hoods, who I really don’t like, but they do a great set and I did actually know all of the songs, which is crazy. I hate knowing every word to songs you can’t stand, but it seems to be almost inevitable. Silverchair were also really good because they played the few songs from their new album that I liked, but mainly old stuff as well which is always a hit. Plus, Daniel Johns is crazy. And people from Newcastle are cool.

Then I saw Arcade Fire who really weren’t that impressive. Maybe it was the setting and they’d be better in a more classical concert venue, but I really didn’t get encouraged to stay, and by the time they came on I needed to sit down and rest my feet anyway, so I ditched them halfway through. They had a reasonable crowd, but I’m pretty sure they were all there for Rage later anyway.

My favourite thing throughout the entire day was the last, LCD Soundsystem in the Boiler Room. I was kind of surprised because I usually don’t dig the whole electronic thing, and it was so late I was getting ready to leave. The Boiler Room was SO cool though, and it was so different to everything else that I had seen. It was pretty engaging in general, and they did the songs in an order that took you through an entire relationship, with their closing song breaking up with the crowd. Great theme, I’ve been broken up with twice in two weeks now. They were so good, I think I love them now. Except, I’m not sure the drummer was wearing pants. Apparently he had very short beige shorts on. Hopefully..

I did see some stuff I hated. Well, hate now. Faker, who I have previously had a bad experience with (the “slapping incident”) gave me more reason to hate them. I think the lead singer is kind of pretentious, the songs are kind of boring at a point, and I almost died in the fricking mosh!  The only other mosh that I let myself be dragged into that day was the mosh to actually get into the front section, which was crazy because you couldn’t even see a band at that point. Apparently though, even though I have discovered that I’m actually two inches taller than I had thought, I am still short. I am just tall enough to stick my head into the air above the tangle of bodies. Turns out I am that girl that everyone is concerned about it, and I was fending off queries about whether or not I was okay all day. I shudder to think about what would happen if I actually WAS short.

Apart from the epic saga that is the Big Day Out, and the accompaniment of the six hours of trains to get there, I have had a pretty good week. I have been accidentally sunburnt so many times lately that I am starting to fret about all of the skin cancer advertising and articles in magazines. It’s bad, I know, but in my head I think I’m making it slightly more dramatic. I am going to try and be better now.

Today I went to the dog beach where I got completely sandy and salty and wet, but I feel so good now. There is nothing so refreshing as the beach, especially when you’re just sitting back watching your dog freak out around puppies.

Just gotta breathe in the salty air.

Out.

Inches off and they’re on the floor.
I’m not, but maybe later?
Screw you and your space.
If you don’t think I’m attractive why should it matter?
I don’t need your validation.
I don’t need you, and I never did.

It’s just seven days, but it feels like a week

So, Heath Ledger was found dead just about three hours ago. That’s kind of weird.
I don’t usually find that celebrity deaths are shocking. Steve Irwin had been poking animals for years, one was going to poke back, Anna Nicole Smith had issues from birth I guess as far as the public knew, and I don’t know, but it seems odd to me that this time it was Heath Ledger. Although, he’s bound to become the epitome of a tragic superstar in the manner of River Pheonix or James Dean. His films were explosive pieces that are sure to reverberate throughout the subconsciousness of the film industry.

I’m almost jealous. He died young and stayed pretty.
I’m kind of scared of getting old.

I am sick of being the same person that I was last week, because unbeknownst to me it wasn’t even working out then. Today I’m going to go do something to change myself, and hopefully something will help me move on.
I hate that I know something has to go forward but I don’t have the oppurtunity to even try yet. Bring on February.
I’m not going to miss you that much.

everywhere and everything but you

I kind of wish I was pretty enough so that I’d realise I didn’t have to be.

I kind of wish someone would hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright.

I’m just trying to break your heart </3

I remember reading a friend’s blog ages ago that served to question the art of “friendshipping vs. relationshipping” (what, actually, is with all the shipping?) and this has kind of become the impetus for one of my  own. He pretty much was the reason that I HAVE this blog, although I’m sure that he didn’t forsee himself as the inspiration for quite so many posts in quite this manner. Although, then again, maybe he did.

How can you define the difference between friends and lovers? I hate that when you look at that sort of question you leave it, you dismiss it as indefinable. I hate that because why can’t you define something so fundamental? I hate that because right now it’s all that I need to know.

Friendship is such a variable condition. I think that I tend to be such an insular person that maintaining a friendship is difficult. Throughout school I floated through so many groups, I found it so hard to find a stable collection of friends. I couldn’t even seem to find myself in the mess of adolescence. Now, a year after graduation I find myself home in Newcastle with only a handful of people that I’ve kept in touch with. I love them all, but I find myself questioning how I’ve reached such a conclusion. I feel like I’ve been stripped of everyone but those people that were once my very best friends, but at the same time I feel like they are drifting away from me as well.

My best friend for three years started as yet another unrequited crush. I feel like my whole life is just another unrequited crush. I feel like I’m not meant to be loved. He helped me get through high school to some degree, because it gave me someone to have that no one else really did. I didn’t see him much outside of school, and I don’t think I shared that much with him, but that was really the best part. After the intensity of being thrown together for a whole week of school, I needed the time to be alone without feeling like I was abandoning the friendship. The thing with this is that right now I can’t even stand him. We had no fight, we had no disagreement, we didn’t even have a reason to dispose of each other. How can you have so much affection for someone and then just lose it? He was a friendship, and I think that the difference is partly based on the idea that friendships just tend to be fickle.

How can you honestly be such friends with someone, and yet find yourself completely despising him just a year later? I think that my problem with friendships is that I am not in the practice of exposing myself within them. I think that relationships have to be friendships first, obviously, but I feel like the difference is that you have to want to be completely open. I tend to tell lots of people lots of different things, and expose myself in parts, but, almost inexplicably, I want to expose myself wholly to someone I not only love but that I also at least feel that I could be in love with. Friendship can only go so far, it is the willingness to be seen naked, both figuratively and literally, that pushes it into something else, something much more intense, but also much more rewarding.

Obviously, this whole condition must rely on the mutual acknowledgement of this desire before it can develop itself into something more. All I ever wanted, and all I still want, is for someone to absolutely know my, or to want to absolutely know me and to hold me. I finally understand how desperate you can feel to be close to someone because you want to so bad that you need to have them, and to be consumed by them. A physical relationship is quite obviously a large part of a truly magnificent relationship, but it’s a secondary reaction to the intial response.

I spent my first year of university life single, and I decided offhandedly to cheat my way into intimacy. I fell into these two incidents because I wanted to be exposed to what I saw as a more grown up lifestyle. I wanted to assert my independence, but found myself left feeling empty, and I wasn’t sure that I’d want to bother trying again. I did, however, in the throes of what I assumed to be love, and found that before I was missing such a crucial element. I was missing the relationship. I don’t want to sound like I regret the steps that I took, because how can you regret your past, but I did discover a way to know myself better.

Love, love, love is the extension of friendship that makes you seek nothing but closeness, and nothing but more. Can you take it back? Can you take back the fact that you were naked in their presence? Can you resume a friendship even though there wasn’t one initially? How are you supposed to deal with such a ridiculous fall out? When there is no animosity, when there is no desire to be left behind but you find that you really have been, what are you supposed to do? You can’t just go into hate, there’s much too much already at stake.

By my definition, your lover is your best friend, but where do these feelings go when you just stop? How can I be able to lose my love and just be friends? I miss having someone to talk to about everything, and to tell everything to, so I’m maintaining a friendship even though he’s “just not attracted to me”, even though he “just needs some space”, even though I feel like such a transition is cheating me out of something. How can I lose both my boyfriend and the person I expose myself to? I don’t understand how to continue, so I’m just trying. I don’t know what it’s going to be like a few weeks from now, so I’m just trying. I don’t know how to deal with the fact that he didn’t steal my money to buy drugs, and didn’t make it an easy situation, so I’m just trying.

I’m just so confused.

But I’m just trying.