And I’m Singing ‘Why Can’t I Stay Like This?’

Today is some lovely lovely weather.
It even tastes lovely.

Last night I couldn’t sleep because there was a familiar itch consuming my conscious, and unconscious thought.
I flicked on the flicky flick and when the light hit my feet there were nasty red patches that I remember OH so well.
Except…I haven’t worn Keds, despite being sorely tempted, for over a year. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!

Even worse than this, I couldn’t remember wearing enclosed shoes for days, or really anything apart from my leather sandals (you’re not supposed to be able to be allergic to leather) and my rubber Havaianas.
The problem with a sudden onset of contact dermatitis from rubber, you see, would be more of an issue that just shoes. It would probably mean that I’ve somehow developed a latex allergy, and I don’t think that that would make anything much in my future easy. Especially the obvious.

This morning, my worst fears were confirmed when the angry red skin seemed to trace across my foot in a telltale V shape. However, in a last attempt of disbelief I put on one of my emerald flip flops and was confused when the blotchy skin fell short of the actual straps. How does contact dermatitis come from no contact?

A revelation!
Yesterday I locked myself out of my room, shoeless and all, and with no one else home I had to walk all the way to uni in the rain to restore access to my bedroom. Since I couldn’t very well walk there shoeless I searched through our cupboards until I came across a  pair of thongs, long discarded by former owners. One of them has been used since I can remember to prop open our door. They looked ridiculous, with inches of soles passing my actual feet, but I didn’t have alot of choice, and couldn’t actually do anything until I got a new keycard.

Today, to confirm my suspicions I tried on one of the horrible black thongs and the straps corresponded exactly to my painful skin.
Success!
And because I think that those thongs were made of some weird foamy stuff, and not proper rubber, there’s probably no latex allergy.

Don’t you love my anecdotes? It really was a weight off of my mind.
I’m still tempted to reattempt Keds, but since my horrible night’s sleep this inclination has become very much less encouraging.

You Make Us All Feel Gauche Like It’s A Smutty Joke

So, actually, I had a fun time on Monday.
Public holidays really shouldn’t have much impact on my current freedom, but since there’s something going on, some kind of link with the entire country it felt nice to be celebrating whatever nationalism is supposed to mean.
I don’t understand why changing the date of Australia Day should make our social customs more inclusive. I think, really, that February 13 is little more than an arbitrary date (I mean, what has it really acheived?) that would ostracise the histories that have been built up until now.
Not that there was ever much doubt of Australia Day remaining on the 26th of January this year, and every year. I just don’t understand what symbolic gestures are really giving back to Aboriginals. It’s a problem with no easy solution, though, and I imagine that anything I say from my ivory tower should fall on deaf ears. Quite appropriately, I’d guess.

Now Dodson has his symbolic gesture in the Australia of the Year award, even if he was planning on symbolically rejecting it.

Anyway, I spent the day in the jungle-like backyard of a friend who recently moved out of a drug infested shack in Newtown. There was a barbecue, and it even managed to cook food in the end. The jungle cat was an eight week old kitten that fell asleep everytime I picked it up. I guess Cougar turned out to be an appropriate name.
We tried to keep ourselves entertained with party games, but in the end didn’t find time for them to actually begin.
I didn’t really know anyone except the flatmate, but where can you go wrong with casual meetings around sizzling charcoal?

There was one girl, Kiki, or something else just as sickening, who kept asking me if things tasted lovely. I didn’t know what she was talking about, and had to ask her over and over what she had already said. I didn’t really understand.

I ended up sprawled on a couch, out of the rain, dismayed as the teenage legions had their way with the top ten. We ended up watching a movie and eating cold left overs after everyone else had gone. It was wonderful, and I’m glad I didn’t have other things to worry about.

Some things are just hurtful. Some things just make me feel like I don’t even matter, and you know, I like to matter sometimes.

Today I got Tonight. Finally. I always forget how much I love Franz Ferdinand, but when I saw them live just a few weeks ago I don’t know how I’ve managed to for so long.
The new album, however, wasn’t nearly as exciting as I had imagined.
I was expecting good things, I mean, I’d already heard the new songs live. I was hoping to be mesmerised by the first few notes, but it took me until I walked down some damp, city streets before I really appreciated it. I think it’s growing on me. Although, even if it doesn’t, I’m willing to keep listening until I can pretend.

On a whim, I also got Ida Maria’s album Fortress Around My Heart. I just wanted to listen to those one or two songs that I knew, but I discovered that I actually love her in her entirety. She has the kind of smokers voice that would almost make me take up cigarettes. You know, if there wasn’t the whole issue of stained teeth, fingernails, breath, and the death thing.
Smoky voices are so sexy, though.
They are the voices that rattle through your daydreams and make you want to stay asleep forever.

People are crazy when the weather changes so slightly, it’s ridiculous.
Okay, so it was about 14 degrees cooler than the horrible 38 we had on Saturday, but really, that doesn’t mean you need to be wearing jumpers, and stockings and jeans. It’s still 24. That’s not exactly shiver inducing.

I like the cold, and I wish that it would dip into icy temperatures soon, although I realise the futility of such a dream since it’s only January. I like the shivers and the goosebumps and the icy breath and the serenity of thick doonas.
Sleeping in is so much nicer.

I’m going to move to Germany where I’ll be cold forever. Or not. I don’t even know what the weather is like there.
Still. Mmm. Toasty.

No Buildings Will Fall Down As You Walk Away

Australia Day really only means one thing to me, apart from all the rah rah nationalism and stuff, and that’s the Hottest 100.

For weeks I’ve been trying to guess the top few songs and today as they were revealed I was unfortunately found to be right with Kings of Leon taking two precious places, MGMT taking two more, and the Presets deuce also rounding out one of the most boring countdowns in a while.

Except, what does it matter, really? I really like the bulk of the numbers where my votes usually find themselves cast. I wish A-Punk did a little better, though.

I spent a nice day in a nice backyard with nice people thinking nice thoughts drinking nice drinks having a nice time listening to  music. It was nice. Things were so nice. Nice. Nice fricking nice.

Think I’m confusing? Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I don’t care.

Nothing Lasts Forever, If You Had It All You’d Leave

Tell me already, okay?

You Would Cry Too If It Happened To You

George Michael, man up already! Please? I’d like to see you make out with your cousin on the BIG SCREEN.
You’re breaking my heart.

Sometimes I’m almost sure that I know how things are going to turn out, although that’s not always a good thing.
There are a few things that I’d lay some sort of claim to, even if I’m not quite sure why.
It’s something to do with the idea that things tend to work out if you just think positively, maybe. I just think that things tend to work themselves out, because I don’t see that there’s a reason for them not to.

Sometimes I’m almost sure that I know how things are going to turn out, and it scares me because when I feel like there’s a storm brewing it makes me feel miserable without a tangible reason.
I was travelling around and contemplating life and I thought about some time that I remember making me stress out because I just knew that something was going to go wrong.
And it did, I was right, and it was terrible.
The thing is, though, that when I remember it, I do so fondly. And not because I think that I’m somewhat psychic, because I know that I’m not. Picking up on the little things that people expose about themselves unwittingly isn’t exactly a phenomenal process. It’s just human nature. I just wish it didn’t make me panic.
I think about it fondly because even thought I knew that something terrible was happening, and even though it made me feel terrible, and even though I couldn’t see an end to it, it all worked out. Why shouldn’t it have?

I suppose that I’m overly concerned with this because I feel like something’s wrong, and something’s going to go wrong. I’m not sure that it really can all work itself out, but then I remember that this isn’t the first time, and it’s not the last time. It’s probably going to all work out.

It’s just like waking up on an arbitrary day at an arbitrary time knowing that you’re going to have a terrible day, with little to no impetus. You know you’re going to burst into tears, and that you’re going to think about everything that scares you until you can’t breathe. It’s just that at the same time you know it’s going to end soon.

You wake up the next morning, and you know it’s okay again.

I just hope that it’s like that this time, again.
It’s like hoping that the sun comes back, almost.

Nothing Happening, It’s All Illusion

I can’t afford a Kikki K diary, and so I decided to make a password post.
Although I am paranoid that somehow it’s actually completely accessible all of a sudden.

I just needed to vent. I like writing letters.
I remember feeling exactly like this in June.

Tomorrow is going to be a better day.

Protected: Sex Reminds Her Of Eating Spaghetti

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Hey There Green Eyes You Are Just In Time

WWhhiirrr.
Whhirr.
Whir.
Fricking whir.

No One Sees Her Lift A Finger

Summer is hot and lazy and sticky and sweet, and the beach tastes salty and warm, and the parks are busy and sunny and waiting.

I don’t really have much to do, which isn’t as nice as I would have imagined.
I don’t really feel fabulously lazy, just bored maybe.

It’s silly, though, because even if I feel like I have way too much time on my hands, I don’t think I could really take any less of it. I like to sit without the pressure of someone else’s mind whirring next to me.

There’s one good thing about living between two cities, and that’s being able to avoid people that don’t ever seem to be able to pin you down properly. I’m always in the wrong one for the wrong people.

It did mean that I’ve been anxious to stay away from public areas that could find me thrust into the path of this one in particular guy. It’s not that I don’t want to have lunch with him, I think, but the out of town lie slipped from my lips before I’d really considered the invitation.

I don’t dislike seeing him, or anything. He’s always had some sort of idea of me that I can’t believe would ever actually describing anything accurately. It’s kind of nice to be in the presence of someone who likes you like that. Just not today. Or for a while.

Last time I saw him ended up awkwardly entangled in ways that I still can’t really fathom. I wasn’t that drunk, I think, but I was clearly unaware of implications.

In short, I am an avoider. I avoid people.
It’s only bad because I can’t explain half the time why I’d want to.

It’s going to get worse. He’s moving to Sydney soon.
It’s not really bad, but why can’t I think of anything good that could come of it?

He calls me Liz, does that say enough?

Eek.

I’m a little bit pretty scared just now.