Wes Anderson’d the place up a bit. I like the look of the Futura.
Now I’m here I don’t really know what else to say. New Year, old excuses.
This is a photo taken from my kitchen window with my Diana Mini.
I had to log in to Wordpress to change my email address, so I figured I should post while I’m at it.
2009 was a pretty shit year overall. I won’t miss you at all. Good riddance.
I suppose that sounds a bit ‘negative’, but think of it as an emphasis on how much I’m looking forward to the new year. New house, new job, new school.
Brand new everything.
Excellent.
Yesterday I woke up, commuted for an hour to earn $21/hr for my gloriously unskilled labor. I clocked off early, I bought petrol and I drove home in silence. My apple snail had died and my two nameless fish had started to eat his flesh. I gave him an undignified funeral and that was the end of that.
Last night there were happy times to be had with some good people who treat me far better than I deserve. Millionaire cocktails, a million pork dumplings with chilli oil and soy sauce, プリクラ, an altercation with Charlie Brown in the bathrooms of Manchuria.
I woke up this morning and today was not the day. Sore neck from falling asleep fully clothed on a couch, Eggs: Mexican Style, I took a train and a bus back to the slums and it was like 2000 all over again.
I borrowed Bit of a Blur without asking, turns out it belongs to someone else. It’s a good read so far. I especially enjoy the photos in the middle of the book because I’m low class.
What is the opposite of living the dream? Living a nightmare? That sounds far too exciting. Living in a coma. Probably.
I’m not usually interested in new music these days unless it was something released at least 10 years ago; and it would be new in the sense that I had never heard it before. But, here goes. Some new songs that I am enjoying a lot:
Phoenix – 1901
loveitloveitloveitloveit. It’s like Too Young’s older, better looking, so-partyriffic-and-you’re-dying-to-make-out-with older brother.
PJ Harvey & John Parish – Black Hearted Love
PJ’s latest collaboration with John Parish is a bridge between Stories From The City Stories From The Sea’s accessibility and White Chalk’s more sinister core. It’s a great balance and delightfully catchy.
Fol Chen – You and Your Sister In Jericho
I heard this (like most new music) on RRR while driving to work one morning. I like to remind myself via twitter to do things, and find out more about these guys was one of those instances. This song sounded fucking special. I bought the album and listened to it a couple of times, this song really stands out. Spoiler: It sounds like nothing else on their album, but don’t let that put you off.
WOAH WATCH OUT I MIGHT EVEN START WRITING FOR TWELVEMAJORCHORDS AGAIN. Nah, your job is safe Angus.
Today I saw a dog get hit by a car while I was driving home from work. He got up, but he went straight under the tyre so he’d have some pretty bad internal injuries if he survives. Poor guy. I felt a bit sick, I teared up and it made me miss Obi that little bit more.
In other news, this like all my other online pursuits that require more than five seconds of my time has kind of languished since I resurrected it. I think I’m getting a bit of stage fright from being in the public eye again, and I don’t really know where I’m going with this yet. But we’ll struggle on won’t we?
SO. My life in a few short paragraphs:
I work in a cultural toilet. I miss window shopping, fast commutes and lunch dates with CuteFace* in the sun. The work is a bit ridiculous but I am trying to enjoy it despite its shortcomings. After all, it’s my vehicle for getting out of debt and going back** to Uni next year, so I may as well enjoy it for what it is and stop fucking complaining, OK? YES.
I love yoga. I struggled through my first two classes, then aced the third. I won’t be attending this week because I am broke but once I get my budget in order I’ll be going all the fucking time. You mark my words!
Home is a struggle.The internet is with Telstra Bigpond, and even though it should be awesome because it’s cable, it isn’t. Mum cooks good lamb cutlets and awful other food most of the time, I miss the fuck out of cooking and my food blog is begging for me to write an article that just doesn’t exist because of aforementioned lack of cooking, I have to wake up at 5:30am to get to work, I can’t play my music too loud and it’s 45 minutes away from civilisation but it’s rent free and I have access to a washing machine AND dryer. Stop complainin’.
Anyway, life is good. I’m makin’ dents in my debt, I’m healthy, I’m pleasantly dissatisfied enough to have ambition and Wilco are making a new album***.
End transmission.
*He will thoroughly dispute this, but don’t let him convince you otherwise.
**I didn’t actually go to Uni proper. Don’t tell anyone. It was RMIT TAFE division if we’re talkin’ specifics. Shut up.
***I was in some pretty hefty denial about not being able to fly to the mother country to see Blur reform and it is still an awful gaping wound of an issue. I don’t want to talk about it.
If it’s supposed to be a possessive, it’s just ITS but if it’s supposed to be a contraction it’s I-T-APOSTROPHE-ESSSSSSSSSS … scallywag.
Hello, TDLY is back. I’m not sure why. Let’s just see how it goes, huh?