Posted by: Suzy J. | April 26, 2011

Can’t sleep, clown’ll eat me.

1:57am, Wednesday the 27th of April. I DID get that job in *Hawthorn (*Malvern, the chick at DSA just told me the wrong suburb, they bump shoulders though so who can blame her?), I have moved out of home, I did start a new belly dancing class and that’s it so far for my list of things I wanted to achieve this year. The year’s not over and I’m quietly confident the rest will be done.

So, what’s it like? I mean, really what’s it like? Well … it’s hard. I’m currently living in Eltham in this beautiful house, renting it from the Lindsays who are the most generous and thoughtful landlords anyone could ever ask for. I just live with my Zoe. No house mates to sit around having late night wines and chats with. But also no house mates to get infuriated by. I wonder if I’ll always miss that opportunity? Why do we exist anyway?

Hmmm. I miss gardening. I miss Marion and Pam. I miss my old job and the delightful patients my parents looked after. I miss Japers. I miss mum & dad. I miss Katie, Dan & Jack. I miss Highton and the endless walks I’d always take myself and the dogs on. I miss my old room. I miss my Geelong friends. I miss being a part of a community that I knew from birth and loved and felt loved by, despite being more or less anonymous. I still miss Jenkins. I miss home. And who knows when I’ll ever get that back. Aren’t I a prat? Thinking I’m ‘homeless’ when there are people out there who actually are homeless. At least I get a roof over my head. In fact, I’ve got much much more. All you could ever need, functionally. But that feeling of home. Only now that I’ve left do I realise the chasm within me that won’t ever be filled. I live in a house and all my material possessions are inside it. But where will I ever find the home I long for?

Why couldn’t I have seen this coming? Everything else I can cope with. And yeah, I’m coping with not having a home. But it’s so damn hard.

So to my fellow blog readers, please help me. How do you make your house a home?

It’s not all hard though. And to prove it, check this out: ALL of my showering stuff is now kept IN the bathroom. Yeah! And my chocolate stash won’t ever diminish in size because there’s no Clever Fingers around. I never close the bathroom door when I’m in there, purely because I’ve no fear of someone walking in on me. In fact, I can walk about upstairs in my awesome room surrounded by trees, butt naked, and oft do. Because no one can see inside. I do my washing and my washing only. I have three towels and I rarely wash/use all of them at once (I have a thing about too many towels). I DO have that sense of independence that I’ve longed for for years. All the money I earn is money coming from people who aren’t my parents. I got this job on my own merits. And even though it’s crap and I’m not fond of it, I got it. And I can look after myself. Free. Independent. Lonely. A bit sad. Poor. In love.

I do like a good challenge! I’m off to sleeps now, this was really only a blog for me so apologies for not even trying to make it entertaining. But … yeah. I struggle sometimes. But I’ll get there.


Posted by: Suzy J. | January 22, 2011

R.I.P. Jenkins

I miss you, Jenkins. You were so cuddly. And random. And you always ALWAYS made me laugh, every single day. You were the best cat I’ve ever met. I’ll miss the way you so coolly would lie down in front of anyone with this “Yeah, I’m here. What of it?” attitude. I know that’s what you wanted us to read from that pose. But deep down I know you were just too lazy to remain standing or even sitting. Tubby Tonkins. I’ll miss your blatant affection when you were hungry. I’ll miss your random early morning purring and snuggles. And how you’d just as flippantly get bored of rubbing your face against mine and then walk all over me as if I was your own private runway.

I’ll miss waking in the middle of the night and seeing you there, curled up in your prawn position on my bed, purring away. You bought me instantaneous peace from what would otherwise be some awful, disorientating, anxiety riddled nightmare. I had to pat you while you were sleeping. Sometimes, you’d stretch into the pat, you seemed to think “Yeah! This is GOOD!” but I always patted you too much and within seconds your peaceful slumber would be over and you’d start biting the shit out of my hand. Good times! You never came to bed with me, but you’d always end up there, in your own time. Jenkins was his own man. He didn’t play by anyone’s rules. Not even his own.

I’ll miss you being a little shit, running outside JUST as I was readying the dogs for a walk and I’d have to spend twenty minutes chasing you, catching you and locking you inside. I’ll miss your heavy little foot steps. I’ll miss patting your jubbly bits (my affectionate name for the fat that hung between his belly and hind legs).

I’ll miss that bizarre, arrhythmic knocking that would follow you down the hall. I’ll miss turning around to find you raping that sex toy, something you seemed to enjoy most when there was an audience. I’ll miss the frustrated cries you had when you couldn’t position yourself right on it. I’ll miss laughing my ass off at your weirdness and the look on your face that seemed to say “DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!”.

I’ll miss all my friends and strangers reactions to you when they’d pick you up “He’s SO cuddly!” and not just cuddly, but submissive. Floppy. Unless you wanted out, then you’d let us know. I’ll miss how offended you’d look after I’d hit your head because you’d bite me for no apparent reason. You were like a little teenage boy. “WHAT?! What did I do?! I HATE YOU!”. I’ll miss your crying, “Guys? … GUYS?!! … GUUUUYS!!!” – It sounded so important. And so whiney. And then as soon as we’d give you our attention you were too cool for it. You’d leave the room, go out to the courtyard and start your whining again.

I’ll miss your crazy hour. 11pm. Particularly insane when Ed Harcourt would be over. I’ll miss you flirting with Zoe. I’ll miss you sitting and shaking paws for food. You were SO smart! It took you less than two minutes to learn that. I’ll miss how offended you’d look when you offered your paw. “Really?! C’MON! We do this EVERY time! Just, f*ckin’ feed me already, I’m hungy, bitch!” I’ll miss your cuddles under the blanket on the outside couch, on a summery afternoon. Those were the most genuine cuddles. You loved them. Not because you wanted food. You just seemed to want my company. Maybe warmth and comfort as well. But you’d come running from where you were to be with me on that couch.

I’ll miss you coming to lie, and cuddle up on my hands when I’d be typing. It was always welcome even though you were a total hindrance and managed to fall asleep with random limbs on the keyboard and your head on the space bar. I’ll miss your fascination with being in things. Particularly brown paper bags. I have a fond memory that I’ll have forever of you spending fifteen minutes figuring out how to get into this one brown paper bag. So elusive, it seemed. Until you figured it out. You sat in there, with a look on your face that so perfectly said “I am IN a brown paper bag.”

I’ll miss all your insane little behaviors. I’ll miss your love of eating birds in their entirety and feeling your super tight fat tummy. I’ll miss your sleepy eyes. Your adorable little face, all blinky and sweet when I’d come home from work. You obviously would’ve just woken up and you’d stumble out of wherever, looking up at me with tiny slits for pupils and an expression that seemed to say “Suz … ‘sup?” – Too cool for me, you were Jenkins. Maybe that’s why you’re somewhere else now. I loved your company when I had it. And I feel grateful for having known you at all. I’ll miss you forever. My little squirty.

Jenkin’s Song:

Who’s the littlest guy I know?
Jenkins! Jenkins!
Who’s the littlest guy I know?
Jenkins! Jenkins!
He’s so sweet,
He’s got feet,
He bites sometimes,
But not very hard.
Who’s the littlest guy I know?
Jenkins, Jen-kins!

Posted by: Suzy J. | January 11, 2011


Can’t go back, can’t go forward. That about sums up my life situation right now. And even though I’ve probably never felt so ungrounded, I feel strangely at peace. I am my own woman. Speaking of books, I recommend Beatrice and Virgil.

In no particular order, here are some things I plan to do this year (I have a 100% track record of writing stuff down and then making it happen):

1. Move out
2. Learn Italian
3. Sell some paintings from some funky dive cafe
4. Get that receptionist job in Hawthorn
5. Study horticulture
6. Chill out
7. Learn belly dancing from a new teacher
8. Learn a martial art

Yeah, that’s a good list right there.

Sheri, what are some things you wish to do this year? I have a feeling you’ll be the only one who reads this one …

If any others do, hope you’re all doing well! In a most peculiar place. Let me know what you’re doing? Or don’t. Whatever floats your boat!

Love from Suzy 🙂

P.S. I’ve deferred nursing for a year, maybe forever. Hopefully forever. Ain’t I a li’l stinker?
P.P.S. I’m most into passion fruit yogurt with celery and crimson grapes as a snack right now. It’s very refreshing. Tick. Ticks. I have ticks. Refreshing also as usually I have fleas.

Posted by: Suzy J. | December 19, 2010

A New Word.

Ok, so everyone, check it. There’s this new word on the street. And the word is “blatched”. How would one use the word blatched? I tell you. When you’re in the car, and you’re eating a meal, say, sushi, and you’ve kind of got something to cover your lap but you don’t feel 100% sure that it’ll collect anything that’ll spill? And you’re a bit scared that you’ll spill soy sauce all over your going out clothes? So you’re all “far out man, this is such a blatched situation.”

Eh? Eh?? God bless you Sarah Silverman.

Anyone else got some ideas for new words for already existing situations?

Let’s hear ’em!

Love from Suzy 🙂

Posted by: Suzy J. | December 17, 2010

Christmas :-)

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Have you ever experienced a good run of days/weeks and just know that even as you’re experiencing them, they have a certain … flavour … something unique that you know will cause you to remember them fondly for years to come? Because I do! And this Christmas is shaping up to be a lovely one. The following are the reasons why it’ll be so memorable for me: Lisa coming home, The Sasquatch Dumpling Gang, Sufjan Stevens latest album, Zuzanna work outs, our newly renovated hallway, the crafty shit I’ve been busying my hands with, Reece’s chocolate peanut butter cups, the Christmas parties that are coming up, The Millenium books.

Hmmmm …. yeah. That’s a good Christmas right there. What’s some good stuff my fellow readers are getting themselves involved with? Not necessarily Christmas related, but memorable because they’re occurring at Christmas time. Would you recommend anything? I recommend all of what I’ve listed. I know recommending Lisa coming home doesn’t make much sense but if you know her as I know her, you know she’s hella cool and totally fun!!! Want to come hang with us some time? We’re into Dr. Mario and food of all types. And recommend for a fourth time.

It’s a most wonderful time of the year! Looking forward to singing some carols, and Ed and Kass’ partay tonight.

From Snooze 🙂

P.S. Out of utter boredom, I got my hair dyed the other day, first time I’ve set foot in a professional salon in 6 years. And they didn’t shame me for my crappy hair cutting! So here’s praise to Danni at Rennaisance Hairdressing in the Tivoli Arcade, Melbourne. You are one cool chick, and I trust you. I also like your bunny ears.

Posted by: Suzy J. | December 6, 2010


Hello, everyone!

I had one of my thoughts yesterday that inspired a blog. And here it is, tributes to my most favourite people. Because should I die before I get to share this with them, at least they’ll always know of these stories and how they touched my heart and made me smile every time I remembered them.

I’ll start with Dad. Last night, we were looking at old slides from Dad’s childhood. There was a slide of a young girl at the beach to whom he remarked “That’s Rosemarie” (Mum I thought, ’til I noticed she looked nothing like Mum, which is why what he said next shocked me all the more). “I was in love with her”. “How long did you date her for?” I asked. “Oh, we never dated, I just loved her from afar”. – I thought it was so frikkin sweet. I love unrequited love. Plus, I assume, like a lot of people who’s parents have been together for eons, the mere idea that they could’ve even noticed another person from the opposite sex never pops up in our heads. But that’s silly though, Dad was in his late teens when he met mum. Of course he had other interests! Quite a good-looking fella, he was once.

Now Mum. Mum once had this little plastic toy air-freshener, on a spring that you stuck on your dash board in the car. I assume to keep your car from smelling nice. So anyway, I used to sit there and flick this little toy because I liked how much it kept moving after I’d flick it. Mum was watching me once as we were driving back from school and said “Ah, yes … I always take the corners really sharp and fast to try and tip that thing over but it always bounces back into position” – She said it with such disdain, and it’s very unlike her to not drive safely. I burst out laughing. If she hated it so much, why didn’t she just remove it? Why did she put it there in the first place? It remained there for a good year.

Amanda – Lisa and I were repainting the house once, getting it in ship shape for Katie’s wedding. There was one day in particular, where Amanda, Katie and John-Paul joined in the painting. I was SO happy! All my siblings together, painting this old dump that I love so much! So anyway, we gets to painting and before I know it, my bare, lower back feels this cold wet, sticky feeling and I look behind to see Amanda’s painted me! So, we had a paint fight! I’m pretty sure I got my hand coated in paint and then slapped her so she’d have a Suzy-shaped hand print on her … maybe on her butt … Aaaah! Memories! I’m used to seeing my eldest sister in a certain light, being reckless and cheeky is not one of them.

Brosef – Ol’ Jamaica. I like that stuff, sometimes. I bought some of it once about 3 years ago when I was going through a dark chocolate phase. So one time, I gets to my stash and John says to me, he says “What’s that you got there?”, “Ol’ Jamaica” I replied. I let John smell the tupperware I’d been keeping it in and offered some to him because, like me, he enjoyed the smell. So I put two pieces into his index and middle fingers because he was precariously holding a cup of sugar and a hot cup of tea in the rest of his fingers. He ended up dropping the chocolate I gave him on the floor, spilling the hot tea on his hands and spilling lots of sugar. So I gave him some more chocolate and he ate it and he hated it. And he yelled at me “If you EVER offer me Ol’ Jamaica again I will kill you!!!” – fuck it was funny! So much shit happened because he wanted to try it and then when he did, he hated it! And to the point of killing me if I so much as offered it to him in the future. HA HA HA HA!

My Lisa! That Christmas we spent with Bethan, playing Trivial Pursuit. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard and for so long. Craps Potata. Where do we get our ideas? Also, last time you were here and we watched pretty much ALL of Arrested Development. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but I like it. And so does Lisa. And hearing Lisa laugh is one of the best sounds in the world. My Lisa’s got a fantastic laugh!

Katie-Loo – That time we did Zumba at your house, in the evening, it was pretty warm. I like to wear a singlet, Zumba pants and sneakers when I do Zumba. Katie’s the same only she usually doesn’t wear shoes. So, we get to the “American Time” part, the beginning of which, is like active recovery, which bores Katie, so she usually takes the time there to have some water. Anyway, this one time, Katie disappears around the corner and comes back sans pants. The beginning of American Time is Country-style, get-away music. And I couldn’t help laugh as Katie danced the heel-and-toe just in her undies and a singlet. She looked like she was maniacally trying to get away from someone but she was moving in style. And not wearing much. In my head it’s funnier. Words aren’t my strong point, OK?!

And now, my loyal blog readers. Of which there are four.

Lord Crommington. All those times during sax quartet rehearsals where we laughed so hard we could barely play. But in particular, those times in “An American In Paris” where I’d do a turn around from bar 40 and then it was on, for young and old to see how many turn arounds we could do.

Sheri – that phone call at work gets me every time! In fact, there’s a part of me that thinks it’s you calling around 5pm every night when I’m in the office, hoping that it’s another one of that crazy maplehead’s pranks!

Adam – That time I stubbornly stayed at your house to finish that jigsaw puzzle with the dinosaurs and we talked for hours of philosophy and religion. I’m sure that’s not unlike most experiences people have with Adam but mine was unique in that it involved a puzzle with dinosaurs. Also, since that day, I’ve only ever been socially retarded around you but I feel like for a brief moment, maybe you might have respected my brain. Now you know me for who I really am. I was actually just reading all those “ideas” I had off the back of my left hand, which you couldn’t see as I used my right hand to do that puzzle. Pretty ingenious, eh? Particularly since I’m left-handed.

And Julian. One of my all time favourite memories is when, after we all got cake from The Wharf Shed and came back to Shoubs, Matt said (in his best Mum voice) “Oh, gee it was nice” – And Julian was a gonner! He laughed so hard he actually fell to his knees, and the cake on his plate fell to the floor. Which in turn, made Zoe’s day. I don’t think I’d ever seen you laugh so hard. I also have fond memories of playing classic Nintendo with you. We did clock Super Mario Bros. together once, didn’t we? I know, you’re probably reading that thinking “We?!” – I could never defeat Bowser. I couldn’t even get passed those millions of hammer-throwers in the 8th world.

Anyway, those are just some of my fond memories of y’all. There are SO many more but I assume most people won’t even read this post, even my loyal followers. “What’s this crap?”, they’ll think. “Just another shit blog”, they’ll say. “All text? No pictures? No links to videos? Let’s set fire to Suzy’s dogs, that’ll teach her. “Don’t. You. DARE.” I’ll respond, and then it’ll be on, for young and old as we fight to the death. Who will win? Place your bets, place your bets!

So much anger and hatred from one blog. This is not the way it was supposed to go at all.


From Suzy J.

By the way, what does the “G” stand for in “AVG”? I assume the “AV” part stands for Anti-Virus. Perhaps the “G” stands for good? Anti-Virus. Good! Anti-Virus Grotection? Anti-Virus, Get-into-it.

Posted by: Suzy J. | November 29, 2010

The Day Before My Boifday – A blog about me.

So … as my last evening of being a 24 year old, I thought I’d write a blog. Not on anything in particular because … well, I never have anything remotely interesting to write about anyway. So join hands with me, as we take a step into my retarded mind, I can guarantee you one thing if you do. The minutes you spend reading this blog, you will ne’er get back.

I really like painting. And creating. Doing anything with my hands makes me feel completely at peace. I’m looking forward to the next few days as I’m gonna decorate the living cuss out of our front hallway with Christmas decorations. I spent $100 on decorations last Friday night from Spotlight (but only paid $60 because I’m such a loyal cuntstomer and Spotlight looks after me), and I’m gonna hang them all around the place. We’ve never had nice Christmas decorations and I thought it was high time our family got some. I’m gonna make a kickin’ Christmas playlist, too, and get into the Christmas spirit early!

My friends from belly dancing, Nicole and Sonja took me to a funky funky art gallery last Wednesday morning, called Ballyhoo Art, located in Ryrie Street next to Geelong Art Supplies. Over the last year, Nicole has commissioned two paintings from me. She loves my work so much that she finally, after 6 months, convinced me to take some samples of my work to Ballyhoo to show the owner, Sandra, to see if I could sell some stuff. Sandra liked my work. She said “here’s my card, when you get some stuff ready, bring it back in here and we’ll see what we can do”. I went home after having a delightful lunch with Nicole and Sonja at Lotus Living, and started a brand new painting, of an image that’s been stuck in my head for 5 months. It’s nice to get it out. Last Wednesday was a great day! It was 30 degrees outside, cloudy, grey, muggy as all heck. You knew the rain was gonna pour down at any moment, and there was that electricity in the air that gets my insides all buzzing. I sat in my room with my painty clothes on, made a playlist of pop songs from the ’90’s (interspersed with some Beatles), and sat back and painted. Once this blog is complete, I shall continue on with that painting. It’s called “Getting Ready” – I’ll take a photo of it one day and post it on my blog … maybe …

I’m reading The Girl Who Played With Fire at the moment. I like Lisbeth Salander. In fact, I think she’s the best heroine I’ve ever discovered. I guess you could say I love Lisbeth Salander. I like her because she has morals and she treats people the way I always imagine I’d treat people if I were provoked to do so.

I work two days a week these days, and have five consecutive days off. It’s the reverse of what most people do. My spare time is spent gardening and doing art stuff. I’ve decided just today that I’m going to defer my studies next year, take a break from studying, and get a full-time job in Melbourne somewhere, clearing bush trails. I’ll spend my evening and week-ends doing whatevs, I’ll save as much money as I can, and the year after, I’ll get my degree. I don’t like nursing, you see. I want a break from studying. I want to get away from Geelong, the painfully familiar.

I want to work outdoors, forever. Hopefully working for a year will give my heart some peace, enough to get me through my degree. Nursing … I just don’t see myself doing it. It’s not just the hours and the work. It’s the people. And I don’t mean the patients. Other nurses. Battle-axes, young ditzy nurses (I don’t get along with women as a general rule), egotistical doctors (don’t like egotistical anybodies), cleaning up bodily excretions. Honestly, who the fuck invented nursing?! Shittest jorb ever. And you know what else sucks? The hours! THAT’s why I’m so instantly infuriated by people who don’t know me, asking about “my nursing”. Hmmm … I just got an idea for a t-shirt …

And finally, I’m in love! With Zuzana and I won’t spoil the surprise but if you’re into muscle tone and accents, then you’ll probably not be let down.

There. Got through the WHOLE blog and what did you get out of it? Nothing.

I warned you, didn’t, I?

Love from Suzy J. 🙂

Posted by: Suzy J. | November 21, 2010

Gear Grinding and fluffy things.

In no particular order, the following are things that have driven me to the point of wanting to set someone on fire this week:

1. People asking me “how’s your nursing going?”
2. People looking puzzled when I answer “One year to go” when they know all too well the course is three years long and I’ve completed my third year. That’s right. I failed. “But BOTH your parents are doctors?! You shouldn’t have failed when BOTH your parents are doctors!” * smug smile * “You shouldn’t scream when I strangle you with your own intestines after I’ve gouged them out with my finger nails”.
3. Men who hate women.
4. People giving me the third degree.
5. Anyone who tells me the same thing more than once.
6. People who drive SUV’s in the Safeway car park on MY side of the road and then have the audacity to look at me with an expression that reads “You’re in MY way.” – But, I’m not. You’re driving a tank in a three metre radius of concrete.
B. People being indirect with me. If I’ve pissed you off, annoyed you, offended you, just plain right tell me. Don’t beat around the bush and pretend everything’s fluffy. I can smell you from a mile away.
f. Being the loser that I am. Although on that note, you should see what my losery skills are capable of doing in a day out in the garden. ‘Twould be impressive if you were into that kind of thing. Which, let’s face it, no one is.
10. Last one. People interrupting me when I’m trying to talk to them.

On a lighter note, in no particular order, here are some things that I like:

1. Eckhart Tolle, although not his voice. It’s a bit … smug.
2. Watching Tara do any number of retarded things.
3. Listening to Paul Simon whilst looking up at the full moon in all it’s yellow, low-to-the-horizon, giant-cheese-wheel glory.
4. Lying on my super comfy outside-couch and reading a book.
5. Sharing a Curly Wurly with Jenkins.
6. Sky Khor.
7. Children who say the darndest things. Most recently, little Bella, who, despite being only four years old knew all the smutty lyrics to a Katy Perry song.
8. All my sisters.
9. Text messages from people I don’t see enough of.

There. I’ve vented. Sorry about that, everyone. I probably should’ve kept all of that to myself … but there’s something cathartic about sharing your insignificant frustrations with the people of the world.

Hope you’re feeling better than I am when I wrote this. My shoulders are all tense. I need to chillax.

Goodnight, loyal readers.


Posted by: Suzy J. | September 17, 2010

Drug Addiction = Bad ?

I know someone who’s addicted to pain killers. I can’t imagine what that sort of life must be like. To always be in physical pain. I never want to know, either. I think it would suck balls.

But I feel for this lady who’s addicted to pain killers. You know why? Because someone else is in control of her medications. I.E. The doctor. The doctor follows protocols and reads that this lady has been prescribed too many pain killers this month. No more ’til next month. What’s the big deal with taking too many pain killers anyway? They ease her suffering.

It got me thinking. If the reason why there’s a limit to how many pain killers one can be prescribed, it’s probably because people don’t want the people who need pain killers to be a burden on the health system, you think? And I think that sounds reasonable. But basically, by doing that, someone else is always in control of how much pain relief you need. And that’s crazy! NO ONE can decide that! Pain is an incredible sensation that affects all dimensions of one’s health. And people react to pain differently. So who is anyone to decline them relief?

Imagine if limits were put on how much you could eat? “I’m sorry Mrs. Johnson, but this is your fifth big Mac today. NO MORE … ’til next month” – ‘Cause let’s face it, T2D, hypertension, hypercholestolaemia, stroke, and heart disease are the biggest strains on the health system yet no limits are put on those people who abuse what they can get. And let’s not forget about bowel cancer. Quit eating fiber and you can be sure that’s waiting for you at the end of 20 years.

What are your thoughts, the nobodies who read this blog?

Happy Friday!

Posted by: Suzy J. | September 14, 2010


I’ve been gardening a lot recently.

I think I’m in love with it.

I like how instantly gratifying it is. I can spend four hours clearing and mowing a lawn and look at it’s pristeneness for about a week and then there’s that second week where it looks shoddy but isn’t long enough to warrant mowing it and then by the third week mow it again and marvel at it’s uniform length, where the hodge podge of weeds that we call grass look like one singular species. And I love raking stuff. And weeding. And getting multiple blisters on my hands. At the end of a day of gardening, I come inside and scrub my hands and open blisters with a scrubbing brush and soap. My hands are always dry and in pain now and that’s how I like them.

I’ve discovered Explorer socks. Mine are all brown so as not to confuse them with brother Charlie’s*, whose are navy and black. I would like a mass of colourful Explorer socks but they’re expensive and I can’t foresee myself ever spending $14 on a single pair of socks, colourful and awesome as they be.

*John. Charlie is his new name though, Matt and I coined it from that retard from the movie The Black Balloon.

I submitted my last big, uni. assignment for the year on Monday which means all I’ve left to do this year is study for my pharmacology exam, and that’s in one month. You know what I do? I put my pharmacology lectures on my iPod and I listen to them whilst I garden. You know what else I do? I eat oats for breakfast.

I like gardening because, unlike this painting, sitting here next to me, that’s been sitting here next to me for four months, gardening is easy. It’s hard work, but it’s rewarding to the maximum. Painting I love … but am never happy with what I create. So wait shall you, painting. One day, I will finish you. But most likely not today.

I like sewing, too. And opening cans with an old fashioned can-opener. One day, I’d like to be ballsy enough to kill a cow and prepare it for eating but feminine enough to wear an apron as I make a hearty beef stew. And then if I only had some multiplying, flying device in which I could feed the poor with my hearty beef stew. Not the Indians though, they don’t eat beef, I assume.

You know what I wouldn’t ever be able to eat? Bush meat. I think I’d rather starve to death then eat bush meat. I wonder if the people who eat bush meat think us eating cows is equally revolting. I hate this world sometimes. It’s impossible to make it all better. I’ll just focus on this garden, I think. All I can do is help myself. And make waffles*.


* toast.

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