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Juste un peu de silence.

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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.
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pirate folder
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: 'Tuesday 18 April 2006'


pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
 
It begins. I am so so sick. Kill me now. Blerrr. On that note, ignore the many mistakes I've made here.

Good Friday

Basil and her dad picked Ben and I up from my place and we drove to the airport where I took Basil through the simple process of check-in and security screenings - after Basil declared her hair to be the only 'Dangerous and Flammable' items on us.
We met up with Carly and Tom at our gate and I distributed little choc bunnies to everyone - including carly's mum and her partner - and before long had boarded... Ben, Basil and I being amongst the last to be let on.
Arriving in Tullamarine, Basil collected her enormous bag and we collected Maz and we skybussed it to our hostel... the onboard screens telling us that 'Buying A Ticket Before You Get On Board Saves Time Or Problems Later'... "or just remember this simple acronym: BATBYGOBSTOPL!!"
After checking in to our pretty damn good YHA hostel, where we briefly convinced Maz he was staying in a room by himself with strangers instead of Ben and Tom (hehehe) we headed out in search of food - treading the streets in the rain until we eventually found a pub that was open on Good Friday where most of us ordered a Chicken Parma - mine was the same shape and close to the same size as Africa. Our waitress was impressed, apparently we were the first to ever finish those enormous chickens... we told her they breed us hungry in SA.
After that?? For some reason I don't recall... I think we just went back to the hostel cos it was late and cold. We bought a few drinks and cheese and crackers and took them to the rooftop lounge and chilled out; getting slowly tipsy and taking pictures and playing with Maz's camcorder. Then just before it closed, I took some night-time skyline pics from the balcony and we all headed to bed.

Highlights of the day:
  • "Shut up and eat your Africa!" - Basil re: my pub meal
  • "BATBYGOBSTOPL!" - Melbourne Tourist Info


  • Awesome Saturday

    Up and showered and meeting the boys downstairs for breakfast at roughly 10am, we all trundled off to the Queen Victoria Markets and split into two groups to explore and address each of our objects. After an hour, we met up again briefly to arrange when and where we'll come together later that evening, then Basil Basky and Tom went to Ikea, and Maz Ben and I completed the Markets, shopped for clothes and went on some failed search for Griffiths street on foot.
    Since I only know the details of our troupes adventures, I can only share that with you.In the markets Maz and I went on a spree of trying on various hats and Ben took pictures- my favourites were the gangsta hats. Ben and I bought fudge and a bag of jam donuts in accordance with our familys' traditions. I haggled myself a long brown hooded coat which I'm calling my Dementor coat (Harry Potter again!) When I told Maz I was wearing a shirt and tie and my fedora to the show that night, he insisted on building an snazzy outfit also, and we walked for what seemed ages - first to try and find Steadicam on Griffiths St, then to piece together some sort of rockstarish attire for Maz.

    We visited various shopping districts and saw many pieces of bizarre art which I must admit is one of the few things that does attract me to Melbourne - including some skinny odd bronze men on the street and the weird water wall which looked like it was moving. Maz ended up getting most of his outfit after a few failed searches in very expensive stores that either had no waistcoats, or had them for +$1000.
    But anyway, after lots of walking and shopping and picture-taking and witnessing a domestic on the street which entailed a guy called Aaron ignoring, and being followed
    by, his hideous partner screeching his name chasing him with what I assume to be their child in a stroller... they were a sexy classy bunch. Also, Wil Anderson passed me on the street! I said hello but he was listening to an iPod or something and had a slightly miffed expression on his face so I didn't chase him - I'm not a huge fan of him anyway.
    Staggering in the hostel by 5pm I ducked back under the shower to feel human again and we got ready for the evening's antics. Maz scrubbed up nicely in his new clothes, and I loaned Ben my glasses to top his rather spunky look off in his new jacket. We ate dinner while we waited for a taxi to take us to the town hall/theatre... Maz and I trying to avoid staining our white ties.... and we discovered that you could cleverly disguise carboard as lasagne and sell it - but we ate it anyway because the day's exertions had worked up an appetite.
    Basil was the clever chicken who organised a cab and getting us to the show on time. Once there, we were almost in the wrong line, couldnt find where we were supposed to go, and got asked to spare some change to support a young lady's drug addiction... well at least she was honest I suppose.
    We weren't seated long before the show started. A few flashes went off and no one said anything about not taking pictures, so I pulled out my camera, turned off the LCD and snapped away. I discovered today that in all I took ~246 of the show... only about 20 of them were okay... I just kept snapping, figuring I'd go thru them later and get rid of all the rubbish ones.
    Dylan Moran was only on for an hour, and we were quickly herded out as another show was to start after. As we were on the street talking, I was staring into space and thought 'hey look that guy walking by looks so much like Dylan Moran.... wait a sec!' by the time I realised it was him, he had almost disappeared in the crowd. For some reason I was evidently so excited that I'd been so close to him that I lost my power of intelligible speech and could not effectively pass on that *that* guy with the hair and the backpack was Dylan himself!! Like Wil earlier that day, Dylan had a slightly pissed off expression (like he does anyway) and it discouraged me in running after him and asking for a photo... not that I don't regret that greatly now.
    While we were waiting before his show we were invited to see a free show a few blocks down the road at 8:30pm and we figured, hey it's free and we go home tomorrow - let's go. The show was called You Say Potato, I Say Die!and it was a collection of short skits starring 4 young guys. They weren't bad. Most of the skits were pretty funny and this one guy had all this intense energy, he was great. As marks all good performers, he ended the show in a straightjacket.
    After all this theatrical splendour we spent some time in a lame yuppy 10 Pin Bowling Bar (which sounds alot cooler than it was) and the sophisticated Boutique Wine Bar next to it that was screening a BW John Wayne film on the wall to which we all supplied voices til our cheeks hurt from laughing.Then we met up with Carly, Tom and Adrian in the Exford Hotel which momentarily gave me flashbacks of The Ed Castle - tho lamer and grimier and with poorer entertainment - where we had a drink or two and there was a search for Karaoke bars in Chinatown that weren't brothels in disguise (not alot of success there I believe).
    Before long Ben and I left to find coffee and/or snackage and as we walked about I realised that I'd probably reached my peak for the evening, and we set off back to the hostel - a call from Maz soon after confirmed that he and the others eventually concluded the same thing and they were heading back also.
    In the hostel we were nerdy and checked emails, cracked the pack of peanut M&Ms and Ben and I had a game of pool. Maz was still ticking from his evening's drinkage and when Carly and eventually Basil and Tom went to bed, Ben and I wrapped up our game, got another coffee from the machine, snackage from the other machine, and set up camp in the 3rd floor TV room.
    After some mucking about (Maz will no doubt watch the tape in his camcorder and wonder why theres an aeroplane shot of his nose) we ate skittles and M&Ms. Maz fell asleep and Ben and I watched National Geographic in between dozing.
    At 6am, we all woke up and I declared I was going to get at least *some* hours' sleep in a bed, so I stumbled to my room, hoping my cardkey still worked, and somehow managed to get into the top bunk where I promptly shoved everything on it to one side and threw the quilt over me, still fully clothed.
    Highlights of the day:
  • "Have you ever been masturbating and stopped halfway through because you realised you're not your type?" - Dylan Moran
  • "When I get back, I want babies from you two. Or chickens!"
    &
    "Here, have another basket!"
    -Ben and Maz, supplying the voices for characters in the BW film.


  • Sleepy Sunday

    Finding myself at 9ish AM already dressed for the day ahead - hehehe - I had a brief wash and brushed my teeth, threw everything in a disorderly fashion into my bag and stripped my bed. We collected Ben, checked out, ordered breakfast, had to call Tom and Maz to see where the hell they were - and eventually found ourselves a very tired bunch in the downstairs bistro.
    Ben Maz and I bummed around on the couches taking pictures and lightly dozing, and in general stuffing around while we waited the half hour left until the skybus came. I stole Ben's scarf hehehehehe!
    Tom and Carly weren't flying out til 8pm but Ben, Basil and I were leaving at 1:30ish PM. Maz: a few minutes before us, back to Sydney.
    Whilst eating something abhorrant in Tullamarine airport I bumped into, of all people, Zak who was also flying on our flight back to Adelaide... that's the second time I've bumped into him in an airport hehehe.
    After making friends with our flight attendant Liz, who we deemed cool becasue she blew the whistle on her lifejacket during the demonstration and waved back at us when we madly greeted her after her introduction, we keep quoting "I am le tired" a zillion times and alternately talked, napped and listened to music until Adelaide came into view and my ears threatened to explode. Tired AND sore ears. What fun.
    We collected our bags and Basil's dad took us back to my place where I burnt all the photo's onto CD for Ben before taking him home. We had to go to Matt's place before Ben's house where the two of us had to be charming and funny and tell travel stories but eventually our fatigue got the better of us and I dropped Ben home before scuttling home myself.
    I managed to have enough time to have a shower, get dressed, watch a bit of TV, then away to David's cocktail party where I kept saying I wouldn't drink, but ended up having about 4. The only one I remotely liked was some pink Dacquiri thing we nicknamed Pink Bits.
    Running on pure adrenalin by this point, I somehow managed to keep buzzing until about midnight when I prompted fell fast asleep in bed.
    Highlights of the day:
  • Lazing on the couches with my boys, and the various reminiscences throughout the day.
  • "Someone hold my 'Pink Bits' I must urinate!!" - at the cocktail party


  • Rainy Monday

    Up at 6:30am before anyone else I got dressed, gathered up my Dementor coat and drove to the meeting point in Woodcroft for the Oakbank Easter Races.
    Six of us in a van drove to the racecourse and I was given a white Official's labcoat and a green tag and was told the stupid liquor license rules I was to uphold for the day.
    All I was doing was working one day at Oakbank and making sure that glass bottles and canned drinks were not to be brought past us - supplying people with plastic cups instead.
    It was actually not too bad, and kinda funny when most people thought we were confiscating alcohol then finding out we just wanted to take their bottles and cans. I was called divine intervention, a champ and was told I was loved by one tipsy cute girl.
    People were mostly all dressed up, and it made me laugh greatly to see all the insipid girls barely older than me, if they were in fact out of their teens at all, walking across the woodchips in high heels and dresses that revealing oh so much flesh that I was certain breasts were going to fall out at any time - not that I'd be looking... no, actually no sarcasm there, they were annoying and skinny.
    The guy in the booth by us selling racebooks had a harsh lisp so his spruiking wasn't really music to the ears all day, and his revelation to me about wanting to be reincarnated as a toilet bowl in a ladies restroom made his advances later in the day... well... just a tad more creepy. I did tell my 'boss' Ian that if this guys hit on me one more time, I was going to punch him and I wasn't going to be held responsible. Ian told me that that was understandble, but he couldn't blame him really.
    Flattery will get you everywhere, Ian.
    At one point Nine News was talked to two guys across the way from me and I found myself looking down a camera lens... saddened slightly that there wasn't much I could do but continue working.

    Then the rain came. And I donned my Dementor coat. I reached the point of "I'm as soaked as I can get" by about Noon.

    Wrapping this up now because its taken me longer to write this epic post than it's taken you to suffer reading it:
    I finished work about about 4:30, collected my pay, and the 6 of us tired and damp but happy souls drove back to the Woodcroft meeting place where I got into my freezing car, drove home and headed straight for the bath.
    Mum surprised me with a freshly made bed (and my chiropractic matress placed back on the base from the student's room), and a hot cup of tea, and I chattered with her in my towels and bathrobe as I ate my tea in front of the heater.
    A few sneezes later I discovered that my day in the rain had earnt me my $100, a newspaper, 4 drinks, and a bonus cold thrown in for free.

    Again, tired AND sore ears. What fun.

    Highlights of the day:
  • Watching glamourous girls that had taken about 3 hours to get ready that day reduced to freezing goosebumped crying balls of mud.
  • Wearing a bin liner and dancing in the mud quacking like a duck to warm myself up.
  • Seeing innumerable highheels sink into the ground and stick, and a drunk guy in a shirt and tie running, slipping over and sliding a few metres in the mud.


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