This is just a blog for thoughts - songs that are speaking to me, pics from where I've been today, or projects on the drawing board. Just a random outlet. An area of free association. Comments welcome - though anon's are discouraged please. Enjoy your stay & come again. Please note: The content of this blog does not represent the views of any organisations to which I belong. disclaimer
the pirate girl
coeval happenings reading: Moab is my Washpot - Stephen Fry listening to:Napalm & Silly Putty - George Carlin travelling/staying in:SA, NSW & Vic - depending when you catch me
Let's call today: 'Thursday, 30 June 2005'
wrote in the notebook:
i got to colour-in in the waiting room today. i coloured a purple octopus holding a chest full of treasure. arr! :) and i was allowed to play with the coke-bottle-fountain. that was purple too. i think they liked me playing with that cos it kept me quiet. heeheehee.
thankyou to schmirsty for sellin her camera to me. thankyou to katie for buying my TV so i can buy schmirsty's camera. thankyou to the lovely TAFE girl who fixed my hair today (i made them laugh by saying that i just wasn't cool enough to have the first funked up cut they gave me last week). thankyou to bonnie's mum cos she's re-adjusting my spine on thursday. :z
ok, so i'm carrying a lot of anger now it seems. at nothing in particular really. at least, nothing that's making itself painfully obvious. just itchy feet to change my surroundings and thwart the routine i'm falling into. listening to my Jeff Wayne's 'War of the Worlds' tracks, staring at the painting of Thunder Child, wanting to be the martian fighting machine in the story. walk and crush everything in my path and blast anything in the way.
as much as i love my mum she affects me so badly. just then i was on a roll with my work. i had windows open everywhere - music blaring, chatting on the side... i was flying. no problem. then she comes in to ask me if i can dry the dishes so she can check her email for a few seconds, which in itself i was/am ok with. but then she sat beside me, waiting for me to finish my immediate task and save my work. and with her just being there... i grew all sorts of stressed. like i was in a small room with many many people talking to me at once. i had to turn off my music, tell my chatter i'll be right back, and lower my head and stare straight at the screen. i was concentrating on the words so hard yet nothing was sticking. in the end i gave up, clicked save, and went to dry the dishes. the feeling immediately left when i stepped outside. when i'd done, and she passed the computer back to me, i sat down, ablur again. then she left and i was focussed again. what a freak i am. or she is.
i'm sorry to all those kids who somehow failed to recieve their lunchorders at Lonsdale Heights Primary School on days when vicki was the lunch monitor between c.1990 and c.1994.
i think over that time i must have swiped $15 worth of stuff from that lunchbin i helped bring down to the classroom. remember that to a 10-year-old kid, $15 was alot. hence the slight remaining - albeit somewhat flippant - guilt i think.
i would volunteer to bring the bin down from the canteen full of all the lunchorders for that day - claiming that my eagerness was due to my having an order myself.
when i'd collected the bin, walking between the canteen and the classroom i'd glance through the bags looking on the labels to see what was on offer. my selection was always made with consideration taken to the following factors:
a) what the lunchorder contained (did i feel like a pie? donut? sausage roll?) b) who it was for (if i didnt like them it was a bonus) c) how much was spent on it
this last factor was a fairly important one - if the lunchorder was for someone i knew was from a low income family didnt get things from the canteen often, like me at the time, and today was just a $3 splurge their mum was treating them with, i'd abort that target.
be informed dear readers, that i never stole from the other poor kids. kids who couldnt wear new sneakers every year either; kids who brought their peanut butter sandwiches in old bread bags too cos it was cheaper; kids also for whom a brand name fruitbox or muesli bar was a real treat - even moreso if it didnt bear a "reduced to clear" sticker.
vicki targeted only the richer, snobby or otherwise bratty kids that got lunchorders every other day. if was a handy co-incidence then that the majority of the kids that made my life hell at that time fell into that category.
so if Luke Zrim had a chocolate donut and a bag of mixed lollies one lunchtime that day Vicki - or rather "Victoria" - was picked to get the lunches, for some reason it never showed up.
'Victoria' would have put the bin down, grabbed 'her' lunchorder (set aside on the top shortly before coming in), and take her seat while the crowd of expectant lunchorder kids swarmed forward and rummaged through it like a bunch of seagulls. By the time all the ruckus had died down - save for someone still out the front saying "where's mine?" - half the ill-gotten food had been eaten and the bag with the owners name on it would be safely in the pocket of my budget Woolworths jeans. any small-change that came with my selection of stolen lunch was also pocketed for a later snack or drink.
and then we'd all eat, all of us uncool kids, and watch the boy or girl that had somehow not gotten their lunch - due to some sort of error up in the canteen it seemed - with little to no sympathy because it was nice to see them in pain for a change. "In fact wasn't he the guy that punched Victoria in the shoulder at lunchtime yesterday?" "yes, right before he called her friend a blubbery whale i think it was."
kids can be so cruel. mehehe.
i wish i was then the way i am now. i think i could have really enjoy school.
i think vicki needs some time to almost herself. perhaps another bout of solitary introspection.
basically, i need to get out this house again.
an indirect sign came lastnight. I had had a pretty good day at work all day, then as soon as i stepped out of my car in the driveway when i came home, everything backfired; i was dropping things, stubbing my toe, doing all sorts of stupid things.
And all the serenity i had acquired from the isolated farm melted back into a general feeling of frustration and that overall quiet feeling of inner fury i can never quite describe.
i thought 'why is it that the fucking second i come home things go wrong??' i heard 'cos this place is cursed. its full of negativity vicki, you know that' as my answer.
standing there in the dark locking my car, i silently agreed with myself. perhaps i'll go stay with marion for a while.
leaving the western shadow naked in the face of tomorrow the madness of black desert rain that lets you rise up and flourish once again.
heading east bursting into a calm sea like a river released.
and the cool night will flow into the heat of the day i will lose this shadow i will find my way.
oh bedouin song is all i really own oo how strong the temptation to fall.
while black desert rain runs through my veins opening windows of shame
wild moon above go on, tell me there is love i will lose this shadow i will find my way.
wild moon above go on, tell me there is love i find my inspiration i will find my own way.
tonight i closed up the shed at the farm at dusk, turned off all the lights, put this track up full as it came on and sat outside at the foot of the western hill. there was a small electrical storm to the west, lighting up the sky gently. to the north the orange glow of the city and the last rays the sunset softly lit the clouds. i watched the sky darken from the dying sun with tones of purple and navy and greys in the clouds, and listened to the peacocks call far away on the southern hill, the thunder high high above me, and Lior and his guitar.
hey blogger does photo's now?? cool! hehe this pic is typical - me tryin to look cheeky, and ending up just lookin slightly evil: "hmm yeeeees, i vant to suck your bludd!" muhahahahahahahhahahahahahahhaa heeheehee but aint i cute?
i've been surfing away here looking thru various blogs, and i've learnt something: there are people out there more pathetic than i and there are blogs out there full of more wank than mine so all in all, i'm appreciating my little space here a little more each day.
im listening to N.E.R.D's "She wants to move" this song just does things to me. le purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. the first time i heard it was long ago when vicki still had a working stereo in her car. i was driving home at 11:30pm after... umm... after "visiting" someone nearby. ahem.
"mister, look at your girl, she loves it, i can see it in her eyes... hey... her curves, she's sexy... move, she wants to move, but you're hogging her, you're guarding her."
i'm surprised i didn't crash the car - dancing and driving, not such a good idea.
but yeah, i hear it now, and i still have to dance. i'm told that Ember and i dancing to this song raises eyebrows... and i'm sure other things too :P
i got my hair cut yesterday. it sucks. stupid girl who refused to listen to what i want, and disguised her stupid idea with straighteners and product. blech. now i have to wait a week before it can be fixed. good thing its cold. definately beanie weather i think..... ahem.
i went to work - raced to the pub to meet a social commitment (have a drink with ember and jane - raced home - had the fastest shower in history - got dressed (thankfully i remembered that part) - jumped into kirsty's car - and went to see a Live Stand Up Comedy show at the Rhino Room.
it was cool. the first guy sucked - it gave me hope that kirsty and i have a chance at stardom. if this loser can get a one-hour solo gig with his lack of talent, imagine what the hell we can do.
anyway, after the show kirsty dropped me home, where i picked up my car and drove to aldinga to say farewell to Mazzie at his party before he departs for sydney. then went back to katies and crashed.
after sleeping naked - yes thats right i was nude in the room right beside Katies and she did nothing about it - i was woken by heavy heavy rain and i opened the window right beside the bed and watched it. i like winter, the rain and the storms, just as long as i'm not out in it.
we went to marion for a while - finding a parking space was pure heaven (FEH!) - and did a bit of shopping. huzzah for my new jeans!
went to work - went to Nessa's - saw Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy with her (Alan Rickman is god) - came home - found a Dread Pirate Roberts shirt parcelled up on my bed (.....um thanks allan) - and crashed.
picked a heap of things in the mud - hurt my back - washed stock - got moody - came home - check email - bath - bed. in a nutshell that's pretty much all for that day.
outfit of new clothes - pay tv - some web-work done - piratey costume shirt arrived - more pay tv - made some CD's - short visit to Bec's - more pay tv - blogging.
ahh - nice to have a chilled out day finally. ok, blood pressure dropping back down to normal.
my psychologist & my chiropractor (and no doubt my blood-pressure too) all tell me that i need less stress. i need to relax. hear that?? everyone on my death list or even at least just my 'go get fucked' list can just dissolve into the earth for the moment, cos i want to forget about each and every one of them. screw this, im going to soak in the bath and try to drown this feeling. night.
i would like to thank vanessa for being wonderful and for holding me and for sharing a laugh with me. paul has been away for a few days, so we kept each other company today. full couple of days. i'll tell you all about it later. first time home in about 27hours. i'm tired. i'm drained. i dont want to think anymore. i'm going to bed. goodnight.
dear anonymous person who bought the dread pirate roberts tshirt for me thankyou very much. that was very nice of you. your promised reward of sexual favours shall be donated to charity. thankyou once again. vicki
well if carly stepped out into her backyard late lastnight and listened for sounds of merriment and dualing guitars launched full throttle into folk music, she'd have heard the lil backyard bash i was at a block or so away from her.
the first girl i met at that stupid farm that has enslaved me since that Friday 13th in Feb 2004, was Shell. she's a happy bouncy lil ragamuffin who didnt spend nearly enough time at the farm once i started for my liking. her energy is amazing. its impossible to be unhappy around her.
every now and then she'd walk past carly and i on her way to or from class when we'd sit in the TAFE courtyard on carls' lunchbreak - and she'd always be beaming.
i love Shell.
so anyway, lastnight Ember introduced me to the 6 or so others there - they were all so cool, and tho i was the baby of the evening (as usual) they all agreed that i was cool too (of course).
out came guitars, a mandolin, a 'shussher' as katie calls it (percussion ball thing full of seeds etc - goes 'shussher-shussher-shussher' when u shake it), a cool folk drum which i've forgotten the name of, and a bongo drum.
we all rocked.
there was a brazier in the middle of all of us - i was part of the alcohol & firewood run - and now i smell of smoke. when the firewood ran out, Koby (sorry if that's spelt different) and i partook in sawing up an old table and bench set. mehehe i got to hold the torch and carry the wood back. it was hilarious. he was too drunk to even be doing it, but it all worked out without any major traumas.
we had one wounded - my right shoe, one of my NEW shoes, now has 2 melted spots from the renegade embers that spilled out in the wind at various times during the evening.
oh well, they look loved and have character now - i just woulda liked them to be over a week old before they got any such character. feh. "not happy jan!"
Ember is so funny drunk - i thought she loved me before - damn. it reminded me of April in the Little Shop castparty:
"i love you vicki, you're great" *wander off* - *wander back* - *hug* "vicki you're so great, i love you." etc etc
i'm having a real empowered interlude. fuck the world - vicki's back.
Selfless, Cold & Composed Ben Folds
I said what you wanted to hear And what I wanted to say So I will take it back And all the dishes intact Let them be broken. Broken.
It's easy to be Easy and Free When it doesn't mean anything You remain selfless, cold and composed
You've done me no favor to call and be nice Telling me I Can take anything I like. You don't owe me to be so polite. You've done no wrong. You've done no wrong, Get out of my sight.
It's easy to be easy and free When it doesn't mean anything to remain Selfless, cold, and composed ~~ Come on baby now throw me a right to the chin Don't you just stare like You never cared I know you did But you just smile like a bank teller blankly telling me have a nice life
Come on baby now throw me a right to the chin Just one sign that will show me that you give a shit. But you just smile politely and i grow weaker and
I said what you wanted to hear And what I wanted to say So I will take it back.
It's easy to be Easy and Free When it doesn't mean anything, When it doesn't mean anything.
You can take anything. You can take anything.
Cos you're selfless, cold, so selfless, cold, so selfless, cold, and composed.
i feel like the girl he's singing about. its great.
i went into work this morning to lend a hand. the Friday team havent seen me for aaaaaages. they asked if anything exciting has been happening in my life lately. Ember and i looked at each other for a moment, then cracked up. 'hahaha, well....'
when they departed for Melbourne early Sunday morning, mum left a series of detailed notes stuck on the cupboard door.
on them were scribbled in her own unique handwriting (for which i was constantly accused of 'sick-note forgery' in school) rather stupidly obvious details - such as when the bin needs to be taken out, to feed the pets, and that the house should be clean when they get home.
even my television bore a note that read 'this week - clean your room completely!' with a 'please' squashed in at the top as a polite afterthought.
now let me just share something with you: i hate this.
a note is always handy to have, but mum always takes it to overkill.
so kirsty and i devised a plan to get her back at her own game. kirsty brought me home some sticky notes and we set to scheming that her, april and i would run rampant in the house with them wednesday night, labelling everything we could find: door, light, chair, floor, ceiling, clock etc
instead, wednesday night as you know turned into a choc-fest with cool music.
so at about midnight last nite, i set to work solo.
first attacking the objects of my scorn:
then one side of the kitchen:
then the other:
then one on mums bedroom door saying simply 'gotcha back xx'.
then at about 7am i locked up the house, left Christian still snoozing in bed before school, and drove out to avoid the madness when the parentals come home - just in case they were grumpy from their 10hour or so train trip from Melbourne.
when i got home at noon however, mum was catching a nap - an activity i was planning on partaking soon myself, having still not slept from the night before - and dad greeted me light-heartedly telling me that 'i got her!'
i giggled and collapsed into my bed snuggling with my plush lion 'Kit'. maybe i'll just catch a quick nap.
i just got one of those inspirational emails from my cousin. usually i skim thru and delete them, stating that 'i know all this already!!' but tonite i decided to do as it said and read it, and then think for a moment about each point.
in it were these:
"No man or woman is worth your tears, and the one who is, won't make you cry." that's a nice notion - but i dont really believe it. sometimes i think we make ourselves cry, and blame the other person. i know i have.
"Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have." that's something i need to remember.
"There's always going to be people that hurt you so what you have to do is keep on trusting and just be more careful about who you trust next time around." hmmm
but of course, my constant tagline: "Everything happens for a reason."
i feel really really yucky. blurk. i was about to drive down to the depot with a carload of recycling but thankfully Boo logged on and now i have an excuse for not going. now i'll take them tomorrow morning when i go to work - er "uni" - yeah thats what i meant... uni. we can safely say that vicki has failed all her subjects this semester. doesnt that just give you a warm fuzzy feeling inside? oh wait now, it's just me about to throw up again.
why do i feel hungover? i didn't drink lastnite. all i did was hang out with kirsty and april and we played Scatman (i've tried to find the artist's name but my google search has lead me places that i wish not to share - i think it's "Scatman John" - aha it's here ) over and over and i made a film clip out of it by flashing stills on the screen that had nothing to do with the song. and they drank red cordial and we ate lots of chocolate and doritio's - well i did anyway.
im sorry mary, i was writing you a big long reply to your email, but my stupid fucking #@$%$@%#^&%^#%@#$#ing computer decided that NOW was a good time to restart - you know about 20mins after i asked it to.
i'll re-write it again when i finish yelling at overrated technology.
after 33 games of Yahoo! Pool, and various blogging exercises, it's time for bed. what do you think about the permalinks? which would you rather, the date at the top as words or as digits with the time next to the comments? i like the words so i'm going with that. let me know what you, the masses of adoring fans, want to see. goodnight.
talking to Maz just now he reminded me of the post i did a few days back about the shoes i wanted and having to wait til i got paid. well, it made me realise 'hey it's gone midnight, my pay will be in my account'. usually i wouldnt care, i'd find out when i go get money from the ATM tomorrow but now i have to do this whole routine with Centrelink every 2 weeks and tell them how much i've been paid etc.
so i log into my bank account, working out in my head the miniscule hours i've done at that stupid farm, and i come up with something around the $80 mark.
the screen loads - i go into "Statement" and see Payroll Credit and there it is:
it's definately new shoes day tomorrow.
I just hope i dont do that nextday thing where i've been sensible and gone home rather than buying something straight out - then when i get to it again i dont like it. but if that happens - then yay me and wahahey i save $30 to waste on something else.
i just used my boredom time and unused ekit credit to call Woodloch and talk to my old mate from the main kitchen Chuck. it was so wonderful to hear the accents again. and to hear how happy i made him when he heard my voice. love ya chuck xxx.
the thing that makes me want to slap myself at the moment is that i mis-spelt my own name just now. duh.
anyway. my folks are in melbourne til friday. so the house is mine! - oh, and our exchange students - but everyones too busy or whatever to hang out. oh and i should be doing uni work etc but i've decided not to bother. yep you heard me.
well thats not entirely true. i'll still finish my script for the one class i like. but the other two - im way behind in with no hope of redemption. so fuck them.
"fuck them... with a stick... with nails in it." - Paul
fact a) there's a pair of shoes vicki wants fact b) these shoes cost $30 fact c) vicki has no more than $9.20 on her fact d) vicki doesnt get paid until tuesday. fact e) vicki really shouldnt be buying shoes because fact f) vicki has a $230+ speeding fine fact g) vicki isn't girly enough to buy shoes all the time fact h) due to the past week-or-so's events, vicki should spoil herself fact i) vicki will buy shoes on tuesday.
im having a down moment. the upside of today was kirsty and ness and i hung out and wasted the afternoon away. the downside is all the filming we'd planned to do never got done. meh. am thinking too hard about uni and the direction i'm heading in. i feel like i'm coming up to a crossroads soon and i need to think now which way i should go. i reckon i'm going to go see the course counsellor at uni and see what my options are. maybe i'll go to TAFE with kirsty, or maybe i'll just become a worker bee. none of those thrill me too much - except for the 'with kirsty' part.
a few weeks back he told me proudly how he dropped into the local baseball club just in time to see my brother hit a home run. then he bragged to one of the guys who coached alex there years and years before about him, who then said 'yeah, it's good to have him back.'
then the other day alex was over and he was talking civilly to him about this and that and whatever else. both he and alex were actually having a conversation.
dont tell me my father is becoming a dad??
what's next? my mum will stop screeching across the house and actually be nice to people i bring home??
guess what? i'm number one on her's and angela's list of 'girls i'd want to be a lesbian with' 2 married sexy beasts of ladies want to sex me. i really AM a hot young temptress!
it's odd, married guys wanting to fuck me, i shrug off and call them sleazes. married ladies, well then, come over here and vicki shall convert you! (perhaps it's cos i dont actually like each of these girls' husbands.)
or alternatively i am just a big fat lesbian. feh i admit it.
on monday morning i came out to the kitchen up to my mother and said: thats it! men suck! i'm becoming a lesbian. what do you mean 'becoming'? no, i mean a REAL lesbian! a full lesbian!!
calling all lesbians who want me - please form a line at the door and hand in your application to my secretary as your enter my office for an interview.
mehehe, ok, so its the ego-trip / esteem-booster i needed. :-P
*sigh* ok, so i'll tell you the story. since i've realised that for once im innocent, i've reached the conclusion that i dont owe anyone anything, and that this is my space - so i shall frikkin well blog about whatever i wish!
for those of you not directly in my circle of friends who mayn't know, i'd met a guy a few weeks ago. he was really sweet and kind and everything, he messaged me all the time, called me lots and lots and spoke to me for hours.
everytime i spoke to him, or the couple of times i spent with him, everything bad seemed to go away and i forgot about any other crap that came back to haunt me. he quickly became my Knight.
but something was never really fitting. he'd tell me not to fall in love with him, but then 3 seconds later he'd do some thing or other to show that he was falling for me too. any of my friend that i tried to descibe this to said that it sounded like he didnt know what he wanted. i didnt really either, so that seemed okay with me. i figured we could work around that.
but i couldnt understand why it felt like he was pulling me closer with one hand and pushing me away with the other.
i brushed it off - blaming my own indecisions and uncertainties. everytime i said we should stop because i was feeling unsure, he convinced me not to. it wasnt hard. i really didnt want to stop. but it was his idea of not having an actual relationship, just 'enjoying what we have' that didnt sit right. those that know me understand how i cant do things halfway. as i said in a previous post - im an 'all or nothing' girl.
the first time he said we couldnt be much more than...whatever we were... and i said why, he didnt really have an answer for me... i know now that in fact he did.
he came to see Equus friday night. after the play, and after enduring some pay-outs from my friends, mehehehe, we left and drove down to the beach.
we had sex. there's no other way to put it, i just tried typing some sort of alluding sentence, but they all sucked. so 'we had sex' will do.
at the time, it felt like more than that. i had put off sleeping with him because i knew that once i did, i would start to fall for him, and he had told me not to. the night itself was really nice. he held me after and we laid together for ages kissing and talking before separating.
then we spent some time out on a reserve on the esplanade on Witton Bluff watching the waves lit by the moon and by the lights of Christies. we held each other, doing those pathetic nose touches that couples do - im surprised that no one driving past us hurled abuse or... pointy objects of some sort.
when we finally got around to driving back to my place, he walked me to the doorstep, we kissed again, and began playing outside my house in the dark. i eventually stopped it and told him he needed to get home, and i needed to go inside. he agreed and left and thats the last time i saw him. friday night.
sunday night, during one of our many phonecalls, we spoke about all sorts of things, confiding in each other. i told him something hardly anyone else knew, and he told me a few secrets of his own. he had also mentioned that he had something to tell me. i could tell by his voice it wasnt good.
having told me already that he'd been known to sleep around a bit, i thought he had met someone else, or had slept with someone else. he said he wanted to tell me wednesday (today) which is when we were going to see each other again. i said ok, but i was still concerned.
we launched into this whole deep conversation. he said that i did things to him, i told him he did things to me too. i told him how much i trusted him and that he's one of the few guys i've been with that i havent been scared of or freaked out with. i could hear this was eating at him.
he said he's falling in love with me and he cant. i asked why. he replied, "because im married."
at 3am, a few moments after that conversation ended, i crept into the lounge room and called carly. i dont know why, i just needed her.
that's about all i can be fucked writing for tonite about it. even that was exhausting.
yknow i just told a mate i chat with about whats happenin with me lately - he always wanted us to get together (frankly he's too much of a geek for me to even consider it, sorry kirsty, but there's people out there sadder than you) and then he told me that he's 'technically married' - she's some nut or something, they never got a divorce, but they not been together for something like 2 years. regardless, its still on paper.
mum said to me the other day "what is it with you and married people? and with kids??"*
i have decided that i must be just a hot young temptress.
i have also decided that i need some nice rebound sex. so ok, who wants me? i know there's heaps of you out there, even if you dont all leave comments. *sniff*
let me get out my little black book.
*yes, i know carly wasnt 'married', but my mum always called her that - thats cos shes a stupid stupid woman. my mum that is, not carls :-)