I'm back at uni and sfgaeryuktfgharj,hagjkahfglaujrkgjnajkdv fucking busy already, so I don't know how frequently I'll be posting from here on in. Oh and whilst we're on admin matter I didn't get the cuntly Paddington place :(. The boyfriend of the girl who didn't like me much's best friend is moving in instead. Balls.
Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about today is the politics behind the South East Asian sex trade. Like anybody who has spent more than 5 minutes in this region, I've been a witness to quite a lot the business of prostitution. Specifically, South East Asian local women providing or intending to provide sexual services to Western men (generally older, though not exclusively).
I was at first repulsed by this - I felt a keen sense of power differential, and basic disgust. But, during my time in Thailand, when I was with my grandparents in Patong, they explained the mechanics of the trade, from the viewpoints of the 'bar girls' and the expat community. And whilst the repulsion never really left, I got a little more of an understanding.
I want to question why the sex tourism phenomenon bothers me so much. Firstly, I felt that this congregation of men who perceive sex and 'sexiness' as a commodity with varying degrees of value were applying the same lens to all women, regardless to whether they were in the industry or not. I felt a constant appraisal, above and beyond that of the usual, a measuring of my worth as a fuck, and air of 'she'd be ok if you slapped a bit of makeup on her'. By some guy I wouldn't even piss on (even if I was into that). And it was upsetting, unnerving, and scary. Like objectification on turbo warp.
The other thing I felt upset me was that I believed the South East Asian female prostitutes were 'being taken advantage of'. But, ask me the same of a western female prostitute? Honestly, I don't feel (in that non-rational part of me) that it is the same abuse of power. Why? Well, I think I might be racist. Maybe something in me doesn't see an Asian woman as equal to me, I see her as weaker somehow. Do you know how much that disgusts me, that realisation? All my high ideals, and yet, there is some internalised bullshit belief hanging around making a mockery of all of them.
I still remain confused about where I stand on the sex tourism issue And, well, I hereby open up the discussion for you all to go sick in the comments section.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Update 5 - Oh yes, there is more
Hi Lady,
I was hoping to have caught up with you again before now, but (as lame an excuse as this sounds) I've had a mad couple of weeks and a lot to deal with. I'd love to have another drink again soon, however, I thoroughly enjoy your company. Perhaps this week?
I'm guessing you're back at Uni as of today, but if you'd again like to meet afterwards one evening that would be great.
I hope you've been well,
Hot
*******
Normally, I would bar the shit out of anyone who took that long to decide they wanted to see me again. But he really is so very yummy, I just can't resist breaking my own rules and giving him one more chance..... mother fucker better make good this time though.
Friday, July 23, 2010
You know that I love you boy, hot like mexico (?)
Have you seen this?
Hmm.
1. I LOVE the ugly/beautiful thing she is rocking here. Bleached eyebrows are awesome. I covet the nude underwear set she has.
2. her Euro affected accent is hilarious (around 3.44).
3. is that group sex or rape from 7.56 onwards? umm...
4. the bed scenes from 3.52 until about 5.00 are really really hot. Oh yes please and thank you. yummy.
5. I am not sure, in light of the accusations she is being derivative, if Gaga purposely channeling Madonna is clever or just plain unoriginal. Gun bra is inadvertently amusing.
Hmm.
1. I LOVE the ugly/beautiful thing she is rocking here. Bleached eyebrows are awesome. I covet the nude underwear set she has.
2. her Euro affected accent is hilarious (around 3.44).
3. is that group sex or rape from 7.56 onwards? umm...
4. the bed scenes from 3.52 until about 5.00 are really really hot. Oh yes please and thank you. yummy.
5. I am not sure, in light of the accusations she is being derivative, if Gaga purposely channeling Madonna is clever or just plain unoriginal. Gun bra is inadvertently amusing.
This is your fridge on detox
Day five, guys. Feeling goo-ood. Possibly would run over a small child for a small piece of nice crumbly mature cheddar though.
Last night for dinner we had a little treat (it had been a hard day): Stir fried cabbage, carrot, celery and cashews with soba noodles with a little garlic and a tablespoon each of sesame oil and tamari. And it tasted GREAT. This morning I had porridge with soy milk and a vanilla/orange dried fruit compote i made the night before, sticky and treacle-y. I'm not doing this to lose weight (though I have def shed a few pounds) but rather to break my filthy habits of late. And I really feel wonderful for it.
Anyway, behold! My scarily healthy fridge with pre washed and chopped vegetables (and homemade pesto and hummus)
And check the pantry, guys! (For the avoidance of doubt, the Metamucil is NOT mine... belongs to one of the flatmates. We all know how I judge the constipated). That is a dickload of nuts, dried fruits and legumes. Note the homemade granola front and centre.
Last night for dinner we had a little treat (it had been a hard day): Stir fried cabbage, carrot, celery and cashews with soba noodles with a little garlic and a tablespoon each of sesame oil and tamari. And it tasted GREAT. This morning I had porridge with soy milk and a vanilla/orange dried fruit compote i made the night before, sticky and treacle-y. I'm not doing this to lose weight (though I have def shed a few pounds) but rather to break my filthy habits of late. And I really feel wonderful for it.
Anyway, behold! My scarily healthy fridge with pre washed and chopped vegetables (and homemade pesto and hummus)
And check the pantry, guys! (For the avoidance of doubt, the Metamucil is NOT mine... belongs to one of the flatmates. We all know how I judge the constipated). That is a dickload of nuts, dried fruits and legumes. Note the homemade granola front and centre.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Stalker city
So, I'm pretty shit at relationships and dating but I am truly excellent at procuring stalkers.
(1) Yves, Brazilian ex boyfriend
He's still fucking hassling me to go to dinner with him, despite my total lack of communication with him. Even worse, he spotted me walking home from the gym two days ago, so now he knows where I live. WEEEEEEE!
(2) Shoe loving son of Sydney's Dominatrix Extraordinare
I blogged about him a few months ago. Pretty much A grade weirdo.
Anyhoodle, was enjoying a nice sauna at the gym post workout. Not looking particularly good either, may I say - I was a fetching cerise colour from the exertion; I was wearing a bikini that I am a little too rubenesque to wear at this point in time. My armpits, legs and lady garden were un-groomed. A young man and a lady occupied the top seat, so I sat down bottom, closed my eyes, and tried to tune out their chatter.....
..."Hey, is that Sarah?" Fuck. "Iggy, right?". Forced conversation ensued, with me purposely chatting more with the lady. All I wanted to do was to sweat profusely in peace. But no. As time went by, the lady left, And I was left with him. He popped outside briefly to cool down. Then returned only to lay down on my seat with his head practically in my (hirsute) crotch. AWKWARD. I managed to flick few a few pages of my trash mag, and then I bailed the fuck out of there.
After the gym, I popped into the shopping centre downstairs to get a 1/2 hour ionic foot detox at the awesome chinese massage centre (dubious health benefits, I know, but so impressive!). Start walking along the main road back to my place. Why looky here! Who is this power walking to catch up to me?? I managed to shake him by pretending to have arrived at my street and then I high tailed it over a few peoples' backyards until I got to my place. Fucking shoe stroking freak.
(3) Officially creepy son of a bitch
I first wrote about him here (at the bottom of the post).
I got a call this afternoon from a number I didn't know - it rang a few times then hung up. I thought it might be one of the people from the house I'm looking at so I rang back straight away. I didn't recognise the voice on the other end of the line at first. I actually thought it was my old thesis supervisor for a moment - she has quite a masculine voice. Then, I realised. It was him, the creepy fucker. He asked who I was. I gave him a fake name, then quickly said he must have the wrong number and hung up.
A few moments later I get this message:
"I doubt I git the wrong no. Its been on my sim n curious as 2whr n how i knw u from b4. i didnt mean 2startle u a min ago cate [my fake name]. I'm wondering tho, do you have red hair by any chance? From narabean rite [my fake address from the first time we met]? n Gorguess? Now I remember you, hehe. I doubt you remember me cos it was ages ago but id love 4 us 2catch up."
FUCKING CREEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!! EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW
As much as I wanted to tell him to fuck the hell off, I didn't reply. I've called the cops and I will be filing a report tomorrow. Vodafone wont block him from my phone, because there isn't enough evidence of harassment. Being a creepy fucker isn't enough, apparently.
Anyway, lets just all pray one of these motherfuckers don't skin me and turn me into a coat.
(1) Yves, Brazilian ex boyfriend
He's still fucking hassling me to go to dinner with him, despite my total lack of communication with him. Even worse, he spotted me walking home from the gym two days ago, so now he knows where I live. WEEEEEEE!
(2) Shoe loving son of Sydney's Dominatrix Extraordinare
I blogged about him a few months ago. Pretty much A grade weirdo.
Anyhoodle, was enjoying a nice sauna at the gym post workout. Not looking particularly good either, may I say - I was a fetching cerise colour from the exertion; I was wearing a bikini that I am a little too rubenesque to wear at this point in time. My armpits, legs and lady garden were un-groomed. A young man and a lady occupied the top seat, so I sat down bottom, closed my eyes, and tried to tune out their chatter.....
..."Hey, is that Sarah?" Fuck. "Iggy, right?". Forced conversation ensued, with me purposely chatting more with the lady. All I wanted to do was to sweat profusely in peace. But no. As time went by, the lady left, And I was left with him. He popped outside briefly to cool down. Then returned only to lay down on my seat with his head practically in my (hirsute) crotch. AWKWARD. I managed to flick few a few pages of my trash mag, and then I bailed the fuck out of there.
After the gym, I popped into the shopping centre downstairs to get a 1/2 hour ionic foot detox at the awesome chinese massage centre (dubious health benefits, I know, but so impressive!). Start walking along the main road back to my place. Why looky here! Who is this power walking to catch up to me?? I managed to shake him by pretending to have arrived at my street and then I high tailed it over a few peoples' backyards until I got to my place. Fucking shoe stroking freak.
(3) Officially creepy son of a bitch
I first wrote about him here (at the bottom of the post).
I got a call this afternoon from a number I didn't know - it rang a few times then hung up. I thought it might be one of the people from the house I'm looking at so I rang back straight away. I didn't recognise the voice on the other end of the line at first. I actually thought it was my old thesis supervisor for a moment - she has quite a masculine voice. Then, I realised. It was him, the creepy fucker. He asked who I was. I gave him a fake name, then quickly said he must have the wrong number and hung up.
A few moments later I get this message:
"I doubt I git the wrong no. Its been on my sim n curious as 2whr n how i knw u from b4. i didnt mean 2startle u a min ago cate [my fake name]. I'm wondering tho, do you have red hair by any chance? From narabean rite [my fake address from the first time we met]? n Gorguess? Now I remember you, hehe. I doubt you remember me cos it was ages ago but id love 4 us 2catch up."
FUCKING CREEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!! EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW
As much as I wanted to tell him to fuck the hell off, I didn't reply. I've called the cops and I will be filing a report tomorrow. Vodafone wont block him from my phone, because there isn't enough evidence of harassment. Being a creepy fucker isn't enough, apparently.
Anyway, lets just all pray one of these motherfuckers don't skin me and turn me into a coat.
Paddo Pants?!?!?!
I went to see my potential new digs last night. Um, Wow. Terrace just off Oxford Street. High, ornate ceilings. Polished floor boards. Fireplaces - several. Massive bathroom with chess board tiling. Huge kitchen. Cute courtyard garden. Cleaner fortnightly - I will finally have Help! Oh, and my room? Second storey, with a big window overlooking the courtyard, bathed in light. THE BIGGEST WARDROBE YOU HAVE EVER SEEN. Do not even think about trying to swing a cat, through. Seriously tiny. But no matter. I don't actually have any belongings other than outlandish clothes, shoes, shit loads of books and trinkets.
Told Ben, my friend who lives there, that I'll take it. But his flatmate, who is a fashion writer btw, was a bit reserved - another person was coming to see the place, and I think she had this idea of turning this into some kind of Big Brother elimination process or something. Whatevs. Ben wants me to live with him, and being the massive bossy loud mouth that he is, I'm sure he will get his way.
Here's hoping it works out, hey? I mean it's no biggie if it doesn't...
Nuh- uh!! Not Fair!!! I saw it first! It's mine!!!!!1!!1!!!!!!111!
Told Ben, my friend who lives there, that I'll take it. But his flatmate, who is a fashion writer btw, was a bit reserved - another person was coming to see the place, and I think she had this idea of turning this into some kind of Big Brother elimination process or something. Whatevs. Ben wants me to live with him, and being the massive bossy loud mouth that he is, I'm sure he will get his way.
Here's hoping it works out, hey? I mean it's no biggie if it doesn't...
Monday, July 19, 2010
Detox
Because I've been an alco gluttonous piggy wig of late, I'm detoxing for the next two weeks. I the words of my wise friend at work, I'm going to shit like a gorilla (yes, we're the ones serving you food, people - be afraid)
Sunday afternoon, afterwork I popped down to the shops and bought $250 worth of fruit, vege, seeds, nuts, non-wheat grain, tofu, blarg blarg BLARRRG. I then spent about 1 1/2 hours prepping all the vegetables to ease the pain of cooking during the week.
Also I:
* steamed potato cubes for salad
* made vegetable stock
* roasted pumpkin and garlic
* made hummus
* made detox friendly pesto
* made THE MOST AMAZING AND HEALTHY GRANOLA KNOWN TO MAN
* made a sticky yummy slice made entirely from dried fruits and seeds
It took effing ages. At 11.30, when I finished I suddenly remembered - I had to go to work the next morning. In a restaurant. That serves amazing italian/modern australian food. And I can't eat anything. Cue me at 6.30 this morning, prepping salads, smoothie ingredients, snack size granola serves, hummus tubs, YAY. Anyway. I also have my period, my teeth are fucking killing me and I have a headache, so I'm going now.....
Sunday afternoon, afterwork I popped down to the shops and bought $250 worth of fruit, vege, seeds, nuts, non-wheat grain, tofu, blarg blarg BLARRRG. I then spent about 1 1/2 hours prepping all the vegetables to ease the pain of cooking during the week.
Also I:
* steamed potato cubes for salad
* made vegetable stock
* roasted pumpkin and garlic
* made hummus
* made detox friendly pesto
* made THE MOST AMAZING AND HEALTHY GRANOLA KNOWN TO MAN
* made a sticky yummy slice made entirely from dried fruits and seeds
It took effing ages. At 11.30, when I finished I suddenly remembered - I had to go to work the next morning. In a restaurant. That serves amazing italian/modern australian food. And I can't eat anything. Cue me at 6.30 this morning, prepping salads, smoothie ingredients, snack size granola serves, hummus tubs, YAY. Anyway. I also have my period, my teeth are fucking killing me and I have a headache, so I'm going now.....
Sunday, July 18, 2010
News just in!
Mel Gibson is a really big meanie! By which I mean he is a misogynistic racist oxygen thief fuckstain! Click here here here and feel the hate whilst viewing adorable kittens!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Blog blarg
I've lost my posting mojo. Seriously, I'm only typing this because I didn't want to clean my room. I just don't feel like I have anything interesting to say that wont come across as an intellectualised Cosmo sealed section, albeit with more swears and less actual sex. Le Sigh.
So how about more general updates, hmm? I know! Fucking riveting!!
My actual life is pretty sweet, despite my filthy blogging block. I've read a bunch of books, seen a ton of art, and exercised my little heart out every day bar one or two. I've been indulging on wine a bit too much (I'm drinking every night, and even managed a rather large one this wednesday just gone which resulted in a mighty rip-snorter of a hangover), but that's cool because I'm detoxing as of Monday for a week or two...I've got a bunch of recipes already sorted, a shopping list done, and I've made my fruit and seeds treat bars already. I've given up ciggies, too -apart from 5 or so sneaky ones shhh don't tell.
I'm also moving house again - probably going to move into the city to be closer to uni, and, hell! why not? I'll have to get a new job, but let's face it, I'm a fucking waitress, can't be that hard. My current flatmate's brother lives in Paddington (and yes he is a screamer, before you ask) and he has a room available... could be fun. Also, frustrating because all his friends are scorching hot, yet only like the wang.
Oh and perhaps best of all, my brother has finally been accepted into group housing. It's going to take a few months to hook him up with the right type of house and people, and we need to get him a disability case manager, but we are finally on the right track. I'm pretty sad about it, and so are my parents, but it's the right thing for everyone. Especially Sam. And I'm stoked my parents will get their life back.
So how about more general updates, hmm? I know! Fucking riveting!!
My actual life is pretty sweet, despite my filthy blogging block. I've read a bunch of books, seen a ton of art, and exercised my little heart out every day bar one or two. I've been indulging on wine a bit too much (I'm drinking every night, and even managed a rather large one this wednesday just gone which resulted in a mighty rip-snorter of a hangover), but that's cool because I'm detoxing as of Monday for a week or two...I've got a bunch of recipes already sorted, a shopping list done, and I've made my fruit and seeds treat bars already. I've given up ciggies, too -apart from 5 or so sneaky ones shhh don't tell.
I'm also moving house again - probably going to move into the city to be closer to uni, and, hell! why not? I'll have to get a new job, but let's face it, I'm a fucking waitress, can't be that hard. My current flatmate's brother lives in Paddington (and yes he is a screamer, before you ask) and he has a room available... could be fun. Also, frustrating because all his friends are scorching hot, yet only like the wang.
Oh and perhaps best of all, my brother has finally been accepted into group housing. It's going to take a few months to hook him up with the right type of house and people, and we need to get him a disability case manager, but we are finally on the right track. I'm pretty sad about it, and so are my parents, but it's the right thing for everyone. Especially Sam. And I'm stoked my parents will get their life back.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Lady loves Leonard
Sweet as bitches. I just bought tickets for my mummy and me to Leonard Cohen's second Sydney concert in November.
I saw him last year with Mumma and it was...amazing. Yep, that's all I got. He is divine.
(ooh and I'm seeing The Eagles again in December. Fuck yeh, Mum & Dad music!!)
I saw him last year with Mumma and it was...amazing. Yep, that's all I got. He is divine.
(ooh and I'm seeing The Eagles again in December. Fuck yeh, Mum & Dad music!!)
Monday, July 12, 2010
We interrupt this transmission to bring you a number of boring announcements
I'm a bit blerg at the moment. I think I'm bored. This confirms my worst suspicions - I need to be constantly anxiety ridden and/or totally mentally fucking exhausted in order to be happy. Yeh, I know, cry me a river, right? Two weeks left of uni holidays, anyway.
Some housekeeping:
1. I got a HD for English last semester. !! And whilst, as we know, I flirted outrageously with the teaching staff, I think I fucking well earned it.
I also "met requirements" for all my teaching/counselling subjects. This whole competency based assessment system totally screws with my head, btw. I'm like "Yeh. But what is my SCORE??!! Don't I get a letter grade even??". I know, I know, I should have let go of the ego ages ago, but I haven't, OK. Gawd.
2. My brother is in respite care after his latest episode. Think my mum and dad have finally screamed loud enough at various government departments for someone to throw us a goddamn fricken bone. No permanent accommodation sorted yet, but it looks promising.
3. The hot young guy at work has been acting very strangely ever since we told him about the hot tutor date, etc. He and I always have D&Ms at work, or at least a jolly good gossip, but over the last 3 weeks there has been lots of touching, soft kisses hello, calling me 'baby'.... There have been a few things said which are... suggestive. I think he got a bit jealous about me liking someone else, but in a totally narcissistic manner. Like he doesn't necessarily want me, but he doesn't want me to like anyone else. Anyway. It's nice to have pretty boys flirting with you.
4. Bought a bunch of books the other day:
* The old man and the sea - Hemingway (read it on saturday morning and its beee-autiful)
* Book of longing - Leonard Cohen (a book of poetry - I'm reading it now. Plagiarism to follow in subsequent posts)
* Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse (read it a few years back, but I wanted my own copy)
*Divisadero - Michael Ondaatje (never heard of it before, but it was on sale and Ondaatje is probably my favourite author)
I still have about 4 other books from my last round of purchases which I still need to read. I also have 3 books I am in the process of reading and have yet to finish. FUCK. Reading makes me stressed. Oh, and I'm going up to my family's book warehouse on Thursday to speak to my Grandpa about the young adult fiction titles in his stable (as part of the English teacher gig). So I will probably pilfer wildly from there too. Arrgh! I need to learn to read faster.
5. Remember the guy I thought knocked me up - he's a friend of several years, and quite a troubled young insect? Well, I extended an invitation to him about a month ago - he wanted to get out and 'do' more stuff, not just get on it all the time in a vain attempt to snort himself a personality. He said yeh...and didn't get back in touch with me. I didn't particularly care because it was a more a friendly suggestion (that would, none the less end up in bed as always), and I know the lure of the nose bag is quiet strong for him. Anyhoodle, got a call on Friday afternoon, real awkward, asking what I was doing. i happened to be busy all weekend and advised him of such. Plus, dude, its been a few weeks. You've missed the boat. On Saturday night, a bunch of friends were having cocktails at my work, and I had a G&T with them after my shift finished. Turns out this guy has told pretty much everyone on the Northern Beaches I want to go out with him. Um, no. I was just suggesting we hang out. As we are friends. I don't really think you are boyfriend material. I mean you might be. But the magic eight ball def. points to 'no' in this instance. And anyway, wtf happened to having a little discretion, i ask you? We share the same group of friends. I'm gonna find out what you say about me. If you had shut the fuck up, I'd let you take me to the movies then I'd probably blow you. It's that simple. Fucking figure it out, you half-wit.
6. No news on the tutor front. Clearly, he is a loser and I'm awesome and he doesn't have the brains to notice.
[edited to add, because pictures are fun]
7. Vintage Pants - pre boob job - on holidays in Vietnam, 2007. This is just after I broke up with D-RO. Look how fucking happy and smug I am. I had just enjoyed a wild threesome with 2 very handsome french men (no seriously - they remain by far the hottest people I've ever talked to, let alone effed) about 2 weeks prior to this photo being taken. Ahhh, good times. Except I'm doing the peace sign thing, which is pretty gay.
Some housekeeping:
1. I got a HD for English last semester. !! And whilst, as we know, I flirted outrageously with the teaching staff, I think I fucking well earned it.
I also "met requirements" for all my teaching/counselling subjects. This whole competency based assessment system totally screws with my head, btw. I'm like "Yeh. But what is my SCORE??!! Don't I get a letter grade even??". I know, I know, I should have let go of the ego ages ago, but I haven't, OK. Gawd.
2. My brother is in respite care after his latest episode. Think my mum and dad have finally screamed loud enough at various government departments for someone to throw us a goddamn fricken bone. No permanent accommodation sorted yet, but it looks promising.
3. The hot young guy at work has been acting very strangely ever since we told him about the hot tutor date, etc. He and I always have D&Ms at work, or at least a jolly good gossip, but over the last 3 weeks there has been lots of touching, soft kisses hello, calling me 'baby'.... There have been a few things said which are... suggestive. I think he got a bit jealous about me liking someone else, but in a totally narcissistic manner. Like he doesn't necessarily want me, but he doesn't want me to like anyone else. Anyway. It's nice to have pretty boys flirting with you.
4. Bought a bunch of books the other day:
* The old man and the sea - Hemingway (read it on saturday morning and its beee-autiful)
* Book of longing - Leonard Cohen (a book of poetry - I'm reading it now. Plagiarism to follow in subsequent posts)
* Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse (read it a few years back, but I wanted my own copy)
*Divisadero - Michael Ondaatje (never heard of it before, but it was on sale and Ondaatje is probably my favourite author)
I still have about 4 other books from my last round of purchases which I still need to read. I also have 3 books I am in the process of reading and have yet to finish. FUCK. Reading makes me stressed. Oh, and I'm going up to my family's book warehouse on Thursday to speak to my Grandpa about the young adult fiction titles in his stable (as part of the English teacher gig). So I will probably pilfer wildly from there too. Arrgh! I need to learn to read faster.
5. Remember the guy I thought knocked me up - he's a friend of several years, and quite a troubled young insect? Well, I extended an invitation to him about a month ago - he wanted to get out and 'do' more stuff, not just get on it all the time in a vain attempt to snort himself a personality. He said yeh...and didn't get back in touch with me. I didn't particularly care because it was a more a friendly suggestion (that would, none the less end up in bed as always), and I know the lure of the nose bag is quiet strong for him. Anyhoodle, got a call on Friday afternoon, real awkward, asking what I was doing. i happened to be busy all weekend and advised him of such. Plus, dude, its been a few weeks. You've missed the boat. On Saturday night, a bunch of friends were having cocktails at my work, and I had a G&T with them after my shift finished. Turns out this guy has told pretty much everyone on the Northern Beaches I want to go out with him. Um, no. I was just suggesting we hang out. As we are friends. I don't really think you are boyfriend material. I mean you might be. But the magic eight ball def. points to 'no' in this instance. And anyway, wtf happened to having a little discretion, i ask you? We share the same group of friends. I'm gonna find out what you say about me. If you had shut the fuck up, I'd let you take me to the movies then I'd probably blow you. It's that simple. Fucking figure it out, you half-wit.
6. No news on the tutor front. Clearly, he is a loser and I'm awesome and he doesn't have the brains to notice.
[edited to add, because pictures are fun]
7. Vintage Pants - pre boob job - on holidays in Vietnam, 2007. This is just after I broke up with D-RO. Look how fucking happy and smug I am. I had just enjoyed a wild threesome with 2 very handsome french men (no seriously - they remain by far the hottest people I've ever talked to, let alone effed) about 2 weeks prior to this photo being taken. Ahhh, good times. Except I'm doing the peace sign thing, which is pretty gay.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Clarification
So. You might have already gathered as much, seeing as I can barely pass wind without announcing such goings on in blog-like fashion - but, by way of confirmation: I haven't heard anything from our tutor friend since his message last Thursday when I had got home.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zipp-a-rooni.
Generally I give people a one week max window of opportunity to get their shit together. He's just not that into you, etc. , etc. I do honestly think I will hear from H.T again (he seemed intrigued and, frankly, I'm pretty cute for him) - it's just I'm not sure I will still care by the time he gets around to it. Epic sigh.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zipp-a-rooni.
Generally I give people a one week max window of opportunity to get their shit together. He's just not that into you, etc. , etc. I do honestly think I will hear from H.T again (he seemed intrigued and, frankly, I'm pretty cute for him) - it's just I'm not sure I will still care by the time he gets around to it. Epic sigh.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Puddles and Pants
I went on another excursion today.
In the afternoon fingers of light came through the clouds, and everything changed.
I wore my brand new blue coat/dress with silver buttons, because it makes me feel like Paddington Bear or Madeleine and I feel like I might be going on an adventure, or at least that I will get to eat croissants...
and my shiny red shoes (they have holes in the soles and my feet got wet, but I love them)...
and a red beret, but I was a little cold still.
The sky was grey and gloomy...
and everything took on this strange leering glow...
The water ran down the dirty windows as the raindrops tapped out secret messages to me upon the giant tin roof. Except I haven't figured out what they meant yet. Maybe I need to learn to speak Rain.
I like being alone on days like this... even when I'm in the presence of hundreds of others, stuck on this island with one foot on either side of history.
In the afternoon fingers of light came through the clouds, and everything changed.
(this art is by Kate McMillan. I probably shouldn't take pictures of it. Eeek, sorry, Kate.)
until it was as if it was always there all along.
Monday, July 5, 2010
this is what happens when there's a blackout
A deliberate word,
A careful rhyme,
This artfully undulating line…
Now, pause for effect -
Steal your words for mine,
Such a pretty way to waste my time.
Friday, July 2, 2010
please kill me now
KIDDING. Christ, I'm so funny.
(long awkward silence)
Shut up! I am! Do you want the goss or not? Yeh, I thought so...
Prior to calling him at 5.07 pm (didn't want to call on the hour, or on any minute which was a multiple of five, in case I seemed overly concerned HAAHA), my poor mouth was so dry my lips were sticking to my teeth and my heart felt like a caged little canary in its final death throws.
Anyway, so I called, and said i was at uni and was he ready and hahaha yes I took the library books back and ohhh yeah the fine is going to be huge and NERVOUS LAUGH.
Actually he was way more awkward than me.
So I rocked up to where we were to meet - I had unfortunately arrived first. It was rather....um romantic. narrow little over two stories, with heaps of candles everywhere... Eeek heavy.
And he arrived (5.32) , and looked as dashing as I remembered as he kissed me hello. Popped down to get us a wine after asking what I wanted (Merlot, I'm a wanker). And he came back. And we talked through one glass and then another. We talked about terribly geeky things and I was deeply interested. It was about seven. I thought, you know, we'd be done. But then he suggested dinner. Which of course I couldn't eat. It went cold cause we kept on talking and talking and talking. And went through another 2 glasses of wine. And then it was 12.00 and we were kicked out of the bar because it was closing time. That's 6 1/2 hrs for those of you who are counting.
And as we walked out I saw a cab - and I decided to get in it. It had come up in conversation that he had a studio apartment just around where the bar where we were. I didn't want to force anything, so I took the 'out' option. He kissed me on the cheek (I caught a look of disappointment, I think), and said we should do it again. Of course, I agreed. I got in the cab and cursed my sensibilities.
Got home, poured another glass of wine, and listen to Radiohead as I mulled over everything. I looked down at my phone, and there was a message from him, sent at 1AM:
Hi, i hope you got home ok.
Thanks again for a lovely evening, you're great company.
I'm glad you suggested we have a drink, and I'd love to do it again sometime soon.
Again with the weird tone.. but yeh. Not bad, eh? There wasn't an overtly romantic tone to the evening, but there was a connection. And I think there is potential. Also, i swear he cracked a boner when i told him my "I got bailed up - sexually - by 5 beauty parlour workers in a back room of a day spa in Hanoi" story (it was in context).
PS Found out his 38. I'm not really worried, because I think he is HOT.
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