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, 28 September 2006'
wrote in the notebook:
In another attempt to be a hero
I pass the stick on: Check out Joe Schmidt's Blogathon for the Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI) Foundation.
Joe will be blogging every 30 minutes for 24 hours in a feat to raise funds for the Foundation. If you want to show your support, head on over to his site or check out more info on the blogathon directly from the OI Foundation here.
It mayn't be as fun as Boobiethon (launching Oct 1st, don't forget to snap those pecs) for Breast Cancer, but hey, Joe's out there tryin to make a difference.
Also on the subject of Breast Cancer Research, if you're like me and you have alot of old bra's that you need to chuck out before you go spoil yourself with some new swanky ones (and flashing your rack just isn't your thing), you can opt instead to take part in the Bras OFF For Breast Cancer 2006 held by National Pharmacies where you can be rid of those old dacky over-shoulder-boulder-holders (oh god i hate that term) with a donation and do your bit for the cause. The donated bra's will then be linked together and strung up around Adelaide between landmarks on Oct 11th as a 'visual representation will show the support of the community but also reflect the many women who are diagnosed with Breast Cancer'.
Or, alternately, you can do nothing you selfish git! Well if you're going to do nothing, at least go do nothing over on Joe Schmidt's Blogathon page and tune in to good efforts there.
That's all from me. -Your friendly neighbourhood piratey superhero.
Battle of The Bands in usual 'me' style, copied straight from the email:
Forget Australian Idol, Making the Band and Rockstar SuperNova, this is the real world and we're on the lookout, anywhere an amp can be plugged in or a beat can be broken down.
It doesn't matter how many gigs you've headlined, speakers you've blown or strings you've busted. If you're the best, we want you.
We are on an Australia wide search to find the best unsigned band and unsigned solo artist at any cost, any genre, we want it all but only the best. That means we're kick starting things with some old school battles.
Bands and Solo artists will go head to head in weekly showdowns in different divisions both online and at live sites, be put to a series of public votes to determine our finalists of each competition in each round, we cap it off with concerts, a whole lot of screaming fans and panel of judges to determine the overall winners. Interstate contestants will be flown in on us.
This is a shot for you to showcase your work, get noticed and get signed, the winner will recieve a record deal, various sponsorships and bonus cash prize. 2nd and 3rd place recieves cash prize + concert tickets.
Registration closes midnight Sept 28. Once all troops enroll the first rounds will be battled out online and in live sites around Australia, artists will upload there 4 best tracks to Myspace and be put to both a public and industry vote to determine first round knockouts and who is invited to continue. Even if you don't make it through the war, our A&R teams may pick up some wounded.
We have a registration site in Sydney this wednesday and thursday but for all interstate entries you can register through email and any westpac branch.
After registration you have until October 5th to organise first tracks to upload.
You will recieve a temporary rego number and payment instructions, you can pay at the Sydney registration but you still need a temporary rego number which you get when you contact us and that is also where you'll get the site location.
Once payment is confirmed you will be enlisted and your battle recruit pack will be sent to you straight away.
So man up soldier, it's time to fight, let the battle begin!!!!
Sometimes, a hug is all what we need. Free hugs is a real life controversial story of Juan Mann, A man whos sole mission was to reach out and hug a stranger to brighten up their lives.
In this age of social disconnectivity and lack of human contact, the effects of the Free Hugs campaign became phenomenal.
As this symbol of human hope spread accross the city, police and officials ordered the Free Hugs campaign BANNED. What we then witness is the true spirit of humanity come together in what can only be described as awe inspiring.
In the Spirit of the free hugs campaign, PASS THIS TO A FRIEND and HUG A STRANGER! After all, If you can reach just one person...
So true. We all know how much of a hug whore I am. music by Sick Puppies
Gear those chests up ladies and gentlemen. The Fifth Annual Boobiethon raising money for breast cancer launches on October 1st. Bare those boobs for breast cancer. More info on the Boobiethon site here or if you're a veteran boobiethon participant like myself, head straight for the submissions page here. Happy boobing.
My insomnia is coming back. It's taken awhile to re-adjust to my work schedule, but it's noticeably returning. At first I thought it was just some caffeine or whatever, but even when I've been really good I'm finding it hard to fall asleep again. I'm starting not to feel safe at night again, with the phrase 'The dark is where the demons are' turning over and over in my head. Last night I let some frustration out and felt a little better. Today I deliberately bought the book that sounded interesting over the one that was about being abused, then I read it and it threw some in anyway for good measure for me. So presently I'm trying to shake that feeling as well. That said, it's a good book.
Yesterday was the YHA Peace Festival in Light Square, and the weather could not have been more lovely! The day definately reminded us that Spring has sprung and that days of freezing cold wind and morning mists are on the retreat.
The Festival included lots of stalls, food stands and bands; Labjacd, Sime Nugent, Mia Dyson, Liz Stringer, The Audreys, Heather Frahn, eType Jazz, and Dada Nii & the Damushi Ensemble to name a few - as well as a group of random accordian players... just to make life interesting.
I was going to get an eType Jezz tshirt but I took so long to make up my mind that they sold out. Oh well, I saved some money. I don't really need another tshirt :z
Nic Frances was there to talk about the Peace One Day movement which you can look into here. Peace One Day was a winner at the 2004 Adelaide Film Festival.
To copy straight from the email:
PEACE ONE DAY The Film is the story of one man’s attempts to persuade the global community via the United Nations to officially sanction a global ceasefire day; a day of non-violence; a day of Peace. This documentary charts the remarkable 6-year journey of the filmmaker as he meets heads of state, Nobel Peace Laureates, aid agencies, freedom fighters, media moguls, the innocent victims of war and, eventually, everyone who was anyone at the UN.
An individual genuinely can make a difference: The UN International Day of Peace is now fixed in the calendar on 21st September annually. The real challenge has now begun - to get the world to unite on a day fast approaching. "If you build a house you start with one brick. If we want to build peace why not start with one day?" - Jeremy Gilley, Founder Peace One Day
I went with the gorgeous Tanya and her little boy Tyler (aged 7), who - after beating me at pool AND table soccer aka Foosball - told me "you have a weird voice... but you're funny." Well I'm glad that makes up for it.
We hung out and checked out stalls and listened to some of the bands, and we bumped into Weird Sister Rae & co and were kidnapped to The Garage for a drink. Rochelle and I indulged ourselves in the beer garden booth chairs that are both fun to sit in and hard to get comfortable on.
Weird Sister Rae & co were the only people that I knew would go that I actually wanted to bump into. I was looking over my shoulder alot, not really in a negative way as such, just that the evening would have gone alot smoother if I didn't have to deal with certain parties right then. I wasn't in the right frame of mind and was too tired to be diplomatic.
It was Hippy-Lesbian Central at Light Square during the Festival however. Though I was looking rather spunky myself, I felt like I needed funky Dreads and more colour in my shirt. But hey my new black western shirt did me fine thankyou. Or my Brokeback Shirt as some have dubbed it.
This would be where I'd be posting pirctures of the event but even though I took two different cameras I just didn't feel like happy snapping, opting instead to simply soak up the atmosphere.
Never quite making it back to meeting up with Rae again we headed off about 8ish as stalls were closing and bands were wrapping up. Tanya and I were just proud of ourselves that we had gotten ourselves out of the house and done something social for a few hours. Yay us.
Animal Planet is playing Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course all day. All day. Yep. All day.
you've got to be joking. Remind me not to get so famous as to become an Australian Icon this week. They're all dying. R.I.P Peter Brock - poor bastard was about to retire then gets killed driving in a rally. I guess that competition I saw advertised on the TV where you can win lunch with Brocky is cancelled now?
Que mis ojos se despierten con la luz de tu mirada yo A Dios le pido Que mi madre no se muera y que mi padre me recuerde A Dios le pido Que te quedes a mi lado y que mas nunca te me vayas mi vida A Dios le pido Que mi alma no descanse cuando de amarte se trate el cielo A Dios le pido Por los dias que me quedan y las noches que aun no llegan yo A Dios le pido Por los hijos de mis hijos y los hijos de tus hijos A Dios le pido Que mi pueblo no derrame tanta sangre y se levante mi gente A Dios le pido Que mi alma no descanse cuando de amarte se trate el cielo A Dios le pido
Un segundo mas de vida para darte y mi corazon debo entregarte Un segundo mas de vida para darte y a tu lado para siempre yo quedarme Un segundo mas de vida yo... A Dios le pido
que si me muero sea de amor y si me enamoro sea de vos y que de tu voz sea este corazon todos los dias A Dios le pido
que si me muero sea de amor y si me enamoro sea de vos y que de tu voz sea de corazon todos los dias a Dios le pido A Dios le pido
Juanes is a god. I wish I had the real English translation. I only know bits and pieces of literal translation and what David told me.
Lately (and by lately I been over the past couple years), I've been having a recurring dream. Not hugely frequent, but still recurring nonetheless. I had another one lastnite, slightly different location, but still very similar. When I was a bit younger, I would dream about being in a very large public restroom/showerblock with no doors, or doors that were very small, and being so exposed there. I also have a recurring dream about petrol stations and not being able to stop the petrol going everywhere, but at least I know where that comes from. The dreams like I had last nite involves my grandmother and a houseboat or caravan park. I'm on the verge of remotely maybe possibly perhaps suspecting what happened to me as a child, and who was responsible. That doesn't make me feel very nice. Not at all. I'm thinking that, since she's passed away and there's no possible way for me to truly find this out, it may be in my best interest to disregard all this as just paranoid delusions and getting on with my life rather than thinking too hard on it. I've done okay so far. The past week or tho I've been so run down with work it's made me crash a bit. Plus I've had all these people spilling out their crap to me wanting me to be their hero. I'm sorry, I just can't do that anymore. Not now anyway.
Yeah okay, he's dead, and yeah poor Terri and the poor kids etc etc. But really, are you freakin surprised? The guy got a stingray barb in the chest, went into cardiac arrest and was unable to be revived this morning.
What pisses me off is that Colin Thiele, a real Australian icon, passed away too, but no one media-wise gives a fuck about that.
All I've seen on the news tonight is about that wanker Irwin dying what he did best - messing around with a potentially dangerous animal - with interviews from people who knew him and announcements of interviews featuring Irwin himself are to be repeated on the ABC instead of the usual programming, yet one of our greatest writers passes away and he gets a 3 second mention at the end of the news?
That's fucked up.
Sorry Steve, and his family, but that's fucked up.
This country needs to choose its heroes - or at least how they're honored - better.
Today, sitting in my inbox on top of the filing cabinet was a letter. It was postmarked Adelaide Aug 22nd, so it had evidently arrived just after I left for my 2 weeks on the road, waiting for me to come home.
I picked it up. It was kinda thick, obviously a few pages inside, and I thought it was a newsletter or something. My name and address was hand written on the front in purple pen, no return address on the back.
I opened it.
Inside was a story. Neatly typed and printed out. No title. No author. Just a date and 'The End' on the last page.
The story uses no names, written in the first person: only 'you's and 'I's.
It tells of the reader, me (assigned to be a female and evidently meant for a female reader: me again), hearing a knock at her door and opening it to the writer, who's apparently not-terribly-close-friends with the reader, and they've been remotely intimate at one time before. This is the first time in a while they've seen each other.
The writer is returning something, something they've had for a while and been meaning to give back. Also - I'll get to the point - the writer reveals that they 'want to taste' the reader. Then they grab the reader and they go into her room and have sex. What follows is somewhat explicit.
Let me stop here to say that I'm not a huge fan of people dictating what I'm doing in sex... Allow me to explain: Back in my cybering days if you told me what you were doing to yourself or even to me that would be fine, but as soon as you started saying what I was doing... as far as moaning, screaming, moving or - especially - climaxing... you'd be blocked. Hardcore. As far as I'm concerned, you don't know what the fuck I'd be doing, I do.
So of course, if this story is meant to be some sort of fantasy involving myself and this anonymous person, by the point in the story where I'm thoroughly enjoying having cunnilingus performed upon me, or being fingered, and 'bucking (my) hips' and it being 'several minutes before (I) were able to stop (myself) from trembling'... I was getting kinda offended and angry for receiving this letter.
Who the fuck does that? I think most of us, those who are so inclined, have written stuff like this, I know I have. But I've never sent it to someone. And I usually destroy them once I've finished. And I don't dictate the other person's actions unless I'm recounting an event, not playing out an fantastical event that has not occurred.
Someone I know, at least to the point of them having my name and address, has sent me what I can only presume to be a fantasy they have about me. To what purpose, I know not. What is this supposed to achieve? Perhaps I'll read it and quiver with excitement at the proposition and spare no expense at tracking them down so that we can make fantasy reality?
Sorry but instead, I find this a pointless and cowardly act. Not to mention creepy. Perhaps I'd have been more impressed if you simply wrote me a letter about what you want to do with me and tell me straight out about your attraction and who you are instead of hiding.
Oh and yeah, calling my clitoris a... what was it.. my 'hardened bug'?... not really the most flattering thing in the world. A bug is an insect, or a term of endearment between me and Richarrrd. And I have no doubt at all that it certainly wasn't him who sent this.
I have my suspicions as to who I think the sender is. Someone I'm kinda-friends-with-who-I-haven't-seen-for-a-while, someone who I know is attracted to me, someone who is a writer, someone I have kissed before, and someone who can be... well a little creepy sometimes.
If you read this and I've just shattered all your fantastical dreams about us, sorry, but by this creepy move you've already screwed up any chance (if any) of ever doing to me anything you wrote in this story.
Being human of course, I'm curious as to the writer's identity. But only so I can know who to expect this kind of cowardice from again. By all means, contact me *you evidently know how to reach me) and tell me who you are and why you did this. I won't be mad really (unless you take this to epic stalker proportions), I just want to understand why.
There's a reason 'Sunday Driver' is used as an insult...
A customer abused me, my leave was cancelled, I ran out of almost everything, was boringly not-busy in the Riverland, blew away my quota every day in Mildura, caught a man trying to look thru my bathroom window while I was getting out of the shower, was bitten by a spider and another creep-crawly things. All in all, my last 2 weeks away were eventful, but not neccessarily a pleasant experience. At least I'll get some good commission hopefully for the truckloads of customers I did. For now tho, after 5 hours of driving, I'm going to eat and have a nap. More another time.