Let's call today: 'Wednesday, 22 October 2008'
pirategirl 
wrote in the notebook:
okay, only because I grow tired of explaining...
yes - lauren has gotten her own place in the city
yes - I'm back with my folks at the moment
no - that doesn't mean we've broken up
no - it's not weird living at home again
When lauren got the place near glenelg, she wouldn't have been able to afford it on her own. So I helped pay rent. but I figured it I was going to pay rent, I may as well live there. I never really *moved out* from my parents' place, over half of my shite was still there, so coming back didn't exactly come as a shock to the system because what with my globe-trotting and my interstate assignments with photo corp I'm used to just being away for a couple of months and coming back.
Really, it's almost like I never leave - just some extra personal independence along the way.
As for Lauren, she has a new job and a new flat. She'll be making her own money instead of living off centrelink while she studies. So i'll no longer have to be the bread winner of a place I never wanted.
Which, in all honesty, is how I was feeling in the end.
I've never wanted to live with someone. I always saw myself like the people on TV. With my own space and a boyfriend/girlfriend who had theirs too, and we'd see each other every other day and swap who stayed where when we'd been out. Otherwise, we'd have time and space to ourselves in our own flat.
Alot of people think this means we're breaking up. On the contrary, we're both alot happier. I was feeling very trapped and sometimes used, always broke and feeling like there was nothing tangible to show for my efforts.
Naturally, and most unfortunately, my frustration led into a form of depression, and for the first time in many years I looked down the corridors of my mind and peeked at the shadows at the other end.*
I didn't want to enter that dark room again. I've lived long enough in there.
So some ch-ch-ch-ch-changes had to occur, and they have, for the best.
Lauren and I were both walking home from work this week, tired but happy. Stupidly happy again for the first time in months. And seeing us happy again makes me happier.
We were... ok, I wont sugar coat... 'are'... fighting alot, neither of us fully understands the other.
At the moment I'm tossing up a range of options as far as what I'm doing next. At the moment the one in the lead is going to Sydney for a couple of weeks to do some video work for Maz. I could do the work standing on my head - if only I could stand on my head - and it'd be an easy couple of grand and a well-needed break from the cas.
I also have an interview tomorrow for some Christmas work in Santaland which sounds like fun but if I'm going to take the Sydney option, I'll be away most of the time they'd want me anyway. I should go in any case just to check it out. Perhaps I could leave the cas sooner and let that tie me over during November? We'll see.
After all this tho, in the new year, I'm thinking about studying. Years ago Bec and I said we'd complete the massage course together and do our own business. The more i think of it, the more I like it.
The added bonus of studying, is the chance that I can also possibly return to the Disney College Program, and that makes me excited.
*I onced feverishly sketched my mindset during depression on a small piece of notepad paper, then later made a photoart out of it.
I always felt i was in a long bare hallway, with a dark room at the end full of unthinkable terrors and unnameable fear, and i was struggling to stay in the lit parts of the corridor. Afraid to move either direction, in the sketch I just sink to the floor and hover in the light.
You can see the piece here.
3:17 pm | Post A Comment... >
Let's call today: 'Monday, 13 October 2008'
pirategirl
wrote in the notebook:
today you can call me Queen Proscrastination.
Lauren's first day of training at work - and the same morning she gets approved for a new flat in the city.
Wicked.
I've only done half of what I need to do today, plus I don't really want to go to rehearsal later on.
Bleh.
Ted has just told me that if I get bored of the things I need to do today I'm to write him a shopping list.
I'm not sure who it'd be for, so that'd make for an interesting list...
one opened bottle of ketchup, 32 cans of tuna (Assorted flavours), one spinning top, a hatchet, gardening mulch, a quill, a pack of ornamental souvenir thimbles, one pair of wooden clogs, a snorkel, XXS underpants, one pair of bicycle inner tubes, a sextant, the current issue of Independent Hamster Enthusiast Magazine, a disposable camera, and jerry can filled with raspberry cordial
It'd make for an interesting day.
On the upside I've somehow managed to prepare and eat breakfast and put on pants in order to check the letterbox. So that's got to give me some points surely.
Anyway, I must attempt something a little more impressive in the way of hacking a chunk out of my to do list.
I bid you adieu.
P.S quote that proves I am truly hilarious:
"My God! When they're over each others' places, how does one even get up to go to the toilet without the other falling into Shakespearean fits of melancholy?"
in response to two friends newly together and suffering the burden of being apart for a whole two days.
12:02 pm | Post A Comment... >
Let's call today: 'Saturday, 4 October 2008'
pirategirl
wrote in the notebook:
written whilst finishing guitar practice at the beach
Song for Julie.
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
Julie is my neighbour
She lives up the stair.
She likes to send me little notes
And make our life unfair.
She's friendly to your face
But huffy to your back.
Passive. Aggressive. Paranoid.
And always on attack
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
Julie likes it quiet
She never makes a peep
Unless you count when she's stompin-around
When i'm trying to sleep.
She thumps and she moans,
You can hear it when she pees.
She puts letters in my mailbox
shouting: QUIET PLEASE!
This is a song for Julie
I wrote this a song for Julie
I'll play it if it's thrashy
It's smashy; It's Julie's song
And I'd love to play it for her
If I had an amp I'd turn it on
For Julie
Yeah Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
This is a song for Julie
7:55 pm | Post A Comment... >
pirategirl
wrote in the notebook:
a letter from upstairs
Hi there,
The last time I brought your singing and guitar playing to your attention*, you responded with a written apology & a statement** that it wouldn't happen again.
Everyone in this building wants a quiet & peaceful environment to live in & respects each other with regard to same.
I ask that you contribute in the same way & be mindful that the building is not made of material thick enough to block out your music.
Please honour your initial statement.
With regards,
Jules
Julie,
Sorry for the disturbance.
I have a gig tomorrow & am in dire need of practice & wanted to grab half an hour of playing while Lauren - and to my knowledge, yourself - were out.
The first & last time you mentioned the same it was late & we apologised.
I thought this a more reasonable hour.
I've hardly picked up my guitar more than a handful of times since then in the flat & there's only so much salt the instrument can stand by playing at the beach - which I've done before for your comfort.
As for others in the building, no one else has mentioned anything. Especially not Gordon*** who also resides close by.
Regardless, the 'noise' has ceased.
And yes, I know how thin the place is, but I take all I overhear in my stride****.
Wishes
Vicki
(I deliberately leave out what kind of wishes.)
*approx June or so this year?
**and a box of chocolates, never acknowledged did you notice?
***Gordon is the landlord, and by closeby, I'm referring to the fact that he is also one of the others sharing the building. He lives beside Julie and ourselves.
****in other words, we can hear it when you pee. (pee if we're lucky!)
7:18 pm | Post A Comment... >
pirategirl
wrote in the notebook:
what
the
hell?
when i was seven, I was happy to entertain myself making mud pies
3:28 pm | Post A Comment... >
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