I EMPLOY MAGICAL THINKING

(He Who Will Not Be Named wanted an update of my life in explicate detail, so be warned, this is a useless, word-heavy post with no proper value whatsoever.)

It was Festival Day at school on Thursday, which was a complete waste of a day because all I did was eat and have my camera taken off me forty thousand times. It ended at twelve thirty and so Jess and I took the 507 bus to Southlands to drop off a secret package to an unknown stranger, and then headed to the city where we had sushi at Jaws and spent like $43 in one go. After thirty seconds of window shopping we ran to Borders to find Shannon, Joel, Aaron and Nick searching for Aaron's 'smart book' for a recommended reading list. We skipped to Dymocks to find it (where Joel was lovingly warned that he was not allowed to take photos of the store) and then to Camera House to try and get my roll of 120mm film developed, but noooo. Camera House, for cameras and all things photography, doesn't do 120mm. So I'll have to find my way to one in Freo or North Perth. Hmph.

We dropped Jess off and Nick abandoned us so we took the train to Bull Creek so I could have a shower at Shannon's place while Joel and Aaron went back to Joel's place to get DVDs for our movie night. We met up at Murdoch an hour later and then took the bus to some place where we sat at HJ's and had ice cream and begged the boys to stfu. Nick met us there and together we trekked 32843768 miles to his place in Leeming for nothing, because we only managed to watch a movie and a half (movie = Punch Drunk Love, half = Boogie Nights) before returning to Shannon's place because SOMEBODY (Nick) didn't make sure we could sleep over before saying yes to us all.

At Shannon's I fell asleep while watching Amelie, although I absolutely loved it, and we went to bed at like ten, where I crashed out until I woke up at one, fell asleep at four, woke up at six thirty and stayed drowsily awake until we got up at ten to have breakfast and watch infomercials on TV about steam mops and body suits. I colour coordinated her connector pens (but left out the pinks and browns because I didn't know where to put them) and when her friend Julianne came we took the train to the city together before they went off at Perth Underground and I went home via the Midland line with Gin Wigmore on repeat, repeat, repeat...

Shannon (who reminds me of Adeline Mai in this photo)

Joel and Aaron

Nick

Shannon, me, Joel, Aaron, Nick (I think)

Last night I saw Disney Pixar's Up in 3D. What a fantastic movie! What's even more fantastic was me being a thief and stealing the glasses I wasn't supposed to keep. Yes it's true. I woke up at nine thirty all by myself this morning, and am microwaving some macaroni and cheese while texting Shannon and Aaron simultaneously. Oh, and she got me a $6 disposable underwater camera that I just can't wait to test for my art coursework. On Monday I'm going to the Royal Show with Tom and his family, and on Tuesday I have an all-night movie night at his place. Also, ABC2 is playing children's TV shows and it's 26 degrees tomorrow, which means Spring is officially underway.

MINUS THE FACT THAT I HAVE A MOCK EXAMINATION FOR MUSIC THURSDAY MORNING, life is so fantastic.

PROPHET'S PROFIT

I don't know what to think or say or do, but I must admit this state of mind is somewhat euphoric. Just sayin'.

I have been unintentionally left home alone for the past week, and while I usually love having the house to myself, this really isn't the time. I need company. Who will come visit me now? During these few uneventful days I have downed excessive amounts of sugarfree Red Bull and charged all the electrical appliances I know I won't be using for a while. I have also been drinking orange juice straight from the carton, which makes me feel like a rebel, but the feeling doesn't last very long.

It's 5:43am and I've just finished watching Incendiary. I read the book three years ago, when I was barely a hexagon-eyed, somewhat gauche speech-bubble-devouring teenager. It was only twelve dollars and the cover art was pretty, but I fell in love with its words two pages later, when Chris Cleave talked about holes and wars and little baby boys. And then the movie came out, and I didn't even know it existed, but when I did I was let down before I could judge it for myself. How could I, really, when they'd removed the biggest characters, gotten rid of the point of the plot, and changed the ending completely?

I clearly didn't know what I was on about, though. The movie may not have her much needed craziness etched into her words but I reckon the storyline breaks your heart a little bit more, but in a softer way. Soft is good. I wasn't disappointed, to say the very least.

Then again, it's 5:43 in the morning. What do I know about disappointment.

(I need to stop writing my posts at ungodly hours. I am aware.)

Everything happens for a RAISIN.

Sometimes I wake up and I momentarily forget that I'm an ocean away from home. For the first eight months all my dreams revolved around my old everythings -- old friends, old homes, old routines. In March I was strolling through the bird park. In April I danced through departure. In June I was with you.

Sometimes when I wake up, remembering reality becomes a relief. The process begins and it gets whispered into my ear that leaving is a good thing, the best thing perhaps. But sometimes, when I remember it all, I willingly admit it's a shitty disappointment. That's what it is like these days.

Everybody asks about Now, and I can never quite find the words to explain it. Life is good. I miss home terribly, but I'm getting by here. There are a handful of beautiful people I keep in my pocket, and everyone else shuffles past with their neon rave pants and odd ways of thinking. It's sort of reassuring, but I've forgotten how to scream.

Gabrielle (left) and I at Harry's party last September. I can't believe it's been a year since we sat by the pool and swayed to Coldplay and fiddled with his Lord of the Rings silver pewter chess set. If I listen carefully I can still hear Soulja Boy in the background and the sounds of their feet as they attempt to superman dat Robocop. This photograph was taken just moments before Sam and Stefano bellyflopped and drenched my camera with chlorinated water and droplets of nonexistent clarity. They say those were the good old days.

Three hundred and sixty five sometimes only feels like one.

Holy macaroni, this is long. Sorry for the frivolous sap post. I swear this is only because I'm talking nostalgia with Gabs, and I don't have Aaron to complain to tonight. Aaron Coelho, come back from biology camp. Who else will lecture me for using up a day's worth of hot water?

On a brighter note, it's the first day of spring, and Chelsea beat Burnley 3-0. Hahaha. Life is great.