Saturday, October 30, 2010


On 29/10/10, at 11:42 PM, Stace wrote:
> i just want someone to dig me that i can dig too

On 29/10/10, at 11:42 PM, Susie wrote:
> yeah mutual dig

Susie always knows exactly what I mean all of the time.

Also she says things like this which make me laugh:

On 29/10/10, at 11:54 PM, Susie wrote:
harry is such a dumb cunt, "is this a map of hogwarts??"
what a shithead

Friday, October 29, 2010

when i'm with you

For the video post for this week, we can read a poem that we have written.

I changed the 'blogs we like' and added a tags list. Because if there is one thing I definitely should be doing right now it is going back and adding tags to all of our blog posts.

Here is some stuff I that I've liked recently:


a new name

one of my flatmates turned the toaster up to 5 and my toast got burnt (resentment)

i'm not going to txt you back because you are being a dick

my dog is chasing a fly around the house with mounting frustration

sometimes when i go running people yell stuff at me from their cars and i don't know what they say and i wish they would leave me alone because i am just a person and i am just running

my sister txt me to say not to forget to call our mum because it is her birthday

when this one cat meows it sounds kind of like a wookie

sometimes i feel like the shyest girl in the whole world

today i saw a girl who literally had legs up to her face (not literally at all)

goddamn you facebook scrabble game server error

on my google search toolbar i type in 'do spiders have brains?" and then feel really stupid

there's this guy in one of my classes and i'm afraid to talk to him because he is so good-looking

listening to Best Coast real loud in the caf and tapping my right foot

i like being alone because it allows you to see so much more

curly hair and no makeup and bare legs

my dad uses the word 'convivial' like it's no big deal

at the bus stop reading my book and my hair is all flying onto my face but i don't mind

that sinking feeling when you've looked at all of your unread tweets

i am sitting outside in the sun and the cars going past sound like the ocean

we are sitting on your deck talking about how scared we are of dying alone

Thursday, October 28, 2010

fleece & flower

My childhood was full of shadows, much like my dreams still are. There always seemed to be something just out of reach, something there but not there (or is that just memory). Easter, when we awoke early to see the bunny, a tangible black shape moved in front of four big brown eyes.

Our shadows stretched out long in front of us as the sun disappeared. We grew tall as the sun went down, on bikes that became giant, foot driven tractors. I was so small at that time I could fit in the wheel of the big blue tractor we had in our machinery shed.

I built a dance floor for fairies that lived in our trees. Leaves of this tree had brushed the ground for so long it became smooth and beautiful. Glitter appeared there one day.

My sister and I frequently rode around the back of utes and screamed made up songs into the wind (banana smoothie.. it's so groovy). Prancing around the trampoline we performed concerts featuring classics like "the emu crossed the road". After rain, we played in the mud near the dams and our boots got stuck in the clay. Games of hide and seek sometimes took place in long clover; nettle's mortal enemy was doc.

Announcements like "we're going to Giudi's" after a long hot bus ride home were the most welcome. Bus rides were spent playing footy cards with a boy called Ricky Gross. In the mornings I would ask the bus driver to play Hanson and Spice Girls tapes, while an older boy would try to infiltrate my pop regime by bringing Triple J Hottest 100 tapes with the Whitlams on it. Only now do I know what "there's no aphrodisiac like loneliness" means. In prep my mum taught me to keep my legs closed when I sat down on the bus if I wore a dress to school. After swims in Giudi's pool we would lie on the itchy pavement eating shapes in the sun while ants crawled over us.

There are very old pine trees on our farm, tall pine trees that we would climb. Once a boy, one of our neighbours, fell from the fairy tree and broke his arm. I remember his bloody teeth falling into our sink. My dad's shaving brush stayed next to the sink for some time. It looked a bit like I imagine rabbit paws do. His guns stayed at the top of our linen cupboard for some time, until the local policeman came to take them away. Everybody knew the policeman by name. That's how the country is.

There is a heritage listed apple tree in a paddock there, and an old ramshackle house that my great uncle built when he first settled on the property. The walls are lined with newspaper from the 1940s. You can read about Hitler.

We moved into a town when I was nine years old. We lease out the house and the land. Even though it is near the mountains and very beautiful I feel odd when I go there. A family lives in the real house and takes care of the farm itself and it makes me sad to think about it - I can't even do that thing where you pretend to be happy that somebody is making new memories in there.

If i'm lost it's only for a little while

Lately I've been writing constantly. It feels as natural and as important to me as AIR (the usual simile). I need to write because if I don't I would be too full up. Just full up of 'stuff'. Sometimes the need feels physiological and much as it is psychological. I don't think what to write about, I just do. It's automatic. Every single little thing. Write about just anything. I just open up a word document and go. It's easy as. My emotions laid bare. It's important that you realise that not all of it has to be that great. It just has to be 'you'. Sam told me that he wishes he could write about what he feels but when he goes to write it down he just can't. I feel bad for him. I want to teach him somehow but I don't think I can. It is an important quality to be emotionally open. I look for this in people. I am in a room with the lights out. I am writing all of these little poems which kind of relate to each other. I am also writing my 'sentences' which are important to me. They help me process things. I think up these 'sentences' when I observe something or when something happens to me or when I think something. I write them down in my notebook or onto a word document. Sometimes I think about one when I am on the bus and I don't write it down because I think I'll remember but I never do. I am also writing something about cats and something about the future and something about TV show wisdom. I am writing some poetry which I will never put on this blog. Some things that are just too personal. Mostly I try to be brave in what I put on the blog because ultimately I think it doesn't really matter and that no one really cares. I don't write for you, I write for me. It's a process. A process of writing and then putting it out into the world. Catharsis. I don't know what I'd do without it.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

childhood memories

- sitting on the trampoline in my backyard
- being sad before i could even really grasp the concept
- picking my nose
- sleeping with my night light on
- spinning round and round on the monkey bars
- the crippling fear i felt on my first day of primary school
- liking a boy in kindergarten called callum
- getting salted peanuts after kindy with my mum
- being a tomboy
- wondering why i am shyer than everyone else and not understanding
- stealing peppermints from my grandma's purse
- going to my sisters classroom in the morning to play knucklebones
- not stepping on the cracks in the footpath
- sometimes having lots of friends and sometimes not
- just playing and not caring
- going everywhere bare foot
- make believe


Topic for this week is childhood.

Can't think of a video topic, can somebody suggest something?

Please and thank you.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

I can't do the video post because my internet is too slow

one of my major achievements is
biting all the nails
off my fingers.
another is facilitating
meaningful line breaks.


I enjoy shopping at a place called Camberwell market. it is a rotary market held every Sunday of the month in the eastern suburbs of Melbourne. It is a dangerous place to go, because there are a lot of decently priced vintage clothes, normal clothes, knick knacks, books, records, cds, videos, jewellery, shoes, buttons, wool.. so on and so forth. Not much food. My friends dragged me there on Sunday morning and I didn't want to go because I knew I shouldn't buy anything. But I went and of course I spent fifty dollars on two dresses that I thought would take me out of my spring slump.


I couldn't even watch Stacey's video post because my internet is ultra capped. At the moment I'm attempting to read "By Grand Central Station I sat Down and I Wept" by Elizabeth Smart which I thought wouldn't take me long because it's only 100 pages or so, but each sentence is so dense I am too scared to read it on the train. It's the kind of book you need to be alone with.

Monday, October 25, 2010


Today Susie Anderson is 21 years of age. I would like to wish m'colleague a very happy birthday and encourage others to do so via the appropriate mediums.

Sorry I didn't have time to make something a bit more 'arty'. I have an exam tomorrow so I'm cramming HARD BRO.

Love your gutz, babe.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Bonus video


oh no goddamn

When deciding which approach to take for the latest video I went with 'as awkward as possible' and 'barely audible'.

Friday, October 22, 2010

I always cry at endings

You make time for things/people you care about, you really do.

In my itunes search bar I type 'get me away I'm dying'.

Kissing a boy with a beard is exactly as fuzzy as you think it's going to be.

I think I could be a vegan if I had someone to cook for me.

In the car with my dad, he turns up a Rolling Stones song really loud and says: "wooooooooo".

Jandals and jeans are just not the most aesthetically pleasing combo.

The girls I am sitting next to in the library are talking about how bummed they were when they missed out on Lady Gaga tickets.

I just said this without a hint of irony: "Ooh, can I have your burger bucks?"

Remembering inside jokes from my teen years and giggling quietly to myself.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

one million kisses for one million boys

This is a blog post related to consumerism, elaborating on the "shopping" theme that Susie suggested.

Here is my inventory of (major) purchases made over the last two weeks:

A research methods and statistics textbook $140
Camp a low hum tickets $220

Here's a list of things I bought today:

Apples 2x
Mini falefal and rice (lunch)
A kitkat
Cashew nut vegetables with tofu (dinner)

Mainly I spend my money on food. I hardly ever buy clothes, or 'stuff'. I used to buy books but now I just go to the library or read books I already have. A lot of the time I buy stuff when I'm bored. I hardly ever have cash. I have a credit card which I don't imagine I will pay off until my late twenties.

I'm not someone who is that into shopping, but I like obtaining 'stuff' because it feels nice sometimes (for a short period of time). As for places I like to shop, for groceries it's Lim Chhour on K Rd, which is an Asian supermarket. I mainly like it for its proximity, but I still like going to New World to use the self checkouts. I get some strange pleasure out of scanning my own pasta spirals or whatever it may be.

For books it's Jasons Books on Lorne St, which is a secondhand store, I don't go there often but when I do I stay in there for about an hour and come out with about 10 books. I also like the vibe of Unity Books on High Street. I often go to Borders on Queen St, just because it is a good place to waste time while I'm waiting around in town. There are lots of places to just hide away and read.

Op shops kind of annoy me lately because I can never find anything I like. Generally though, I like St Vincents de Pauls in Avondale. Last time I went there the old lady behind the counter said I could pay $3 instead of $4 for a shirt I was buying, for no particular reason.

My all-time favourite store is Iko Iko on K'Rd because it was has the most beautiful, useless things.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

topics yo

It amuses me that Stacey has begun a topic that says 'sorry for posting a lot Susie', it's just because I get anxious about not being able to stay up to date with all my RSS feeds and I am scared that happens to other people. I haven't read my feeds in a while and I'm scared to look because they will have accumulated. But ultimately it doesn't matter because I figure people who subscribe to our blog enjoy what we do here.

I keep buying lots of things. Here is an inventory of my purchases over the last two weeks:
- one queen bed doona (duvet? I don't know what you call them in NZ/other parts of the world)
- one doona cover w/pillow covers
- two pillows
- one pair of black tights 70 denier
- red & silver nail polish
- felt tip eye liner
- red lipstick
- mineral face powder
- mascara
- a jumper made from tshirt material with a doily/lace heart printed on it from cotton on
- a leather belt embossed with signs of the zodiac (was so stoked to find this at my local op shop which had hitherto disappointed me)

I am buying bed things because for my birthday my mum is buying me a new bed. I am excited, but slightly concerned about having two beds in my possession after my birthday. Having a birthday is weird isn't it. On facebook people have them all the time - well people have them all the time regardless of whether it's on facebook or not - but I forget how they feel personally. I guess because all this stuff is happening at a busy time of year for me - I am graduating from university this year - I am thinking more about how this birthday in particular fits in with my "life".

Deliberated about the topic for a little while, but because I'm in the mood for it

topic: favourite places to shop in your respective city
video post: show & tell what book/s you are currently reading (or in my case, what book you are trying to read but failing at because things are too busy)


i want to write a poem
but it is late
and my eyelids are drooping
so i just type some letters
and hope that my brain
can still work out some
breathtaking metaphor or something about
why people hurt each other so much
and about how i feel so sad
but all my brain can concentrate on
is that it is late
my eyelids are drooping

My 19th October a.k.a. 2 days before my hummus goes off

I woke up at 8am feeling very confused about a dream I had which consisted of me buying tickets to go see Mary J. Blige. It made me laugh so hard. I made toast for breakfast. Had to wear my polka dot dress because all of my jeans were in the wash. I like dressing more boyish than girlish because paradoxically it makes me feel more feminine. Got my bus to Britomart, and as far as I'm aware, nothing of note happened during this time. I caught my next bus to the AUT Akoranga campus where I had a class. Akoranga campus is way more chill than city campus and I like it a lot. I met my friend and we got Subway. I bought a mini sub because I was amazed that they had them and also I like child-sized portions. When I walked into the lecture theatre a Seal (the singer, not the animal) song was playing loudly and it was pretty alarming in general. It was our last abnormal psychology lecture (N.B. abnormal psychology is the study of mental disorders), and a lady from the Like Minds, Like Mine campaign came to talk to us. It was probably the best lecture I've ever had in my whole university life. She talked about her own personal experience of mental illness (she has previously been diagnosed with 8 disorders) and it was really moving. She also said that there are positive things about mental illness which I thought was pretty true. I think that mental health awareness is important, and I find most people don't really understand mental illness at all. After that, our lecturer talked about our exam and we got our marks back for our presentations. I got an A, no big. After class, Sarah and I had lunch, I got a mini falafel and rice and it was probably the best thing I've eaten in a while. Then I went to the library and studied for a few hours before venturing to the cafe for snacks. I got some cashews and an apple. I ran into my friend Xinia who studies dance. I sat with her for 20 minutes or so and then I went back to the library. At 5 I caught the bus to the city and met up with my friend who had made me carrot cake. It was really yum / thoughtful. Then I met Sarah in the library and we were there until 8.30pm. We didn't get much work done, but we ate approx. 2/3 of the cake. I got dropped home and resolved something that I was really nervous about. Then I did some study but got distracted and starting watching Zach Galifianakis stand up. I continued to study until about 1am and before bed I got really nervous about something else (see: pattern), but the sound of rain quickly sent me to sleep.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

lower case/heaviness

sometimes i'll get this really heavy feeling
and i'll be endlessly scrolling through my itunes library
trying to find the perfect song
to cure the heaviness
quite often
i do not find it
edit: jon lemmon - somewhere with something

Monday, October 18, 2010

Why I Love Susie: Part 2

High school was not a great time for me. Girls in high school were pretty awful, and I had shitty friends who I couldn't relate to at all. For some reason I joined up to livejournal and I had this virtual support group of people. It was pretty nice. Two of these people I still talk to. One of them is Susie Anderson. Susie lived in a small town in Victoria, Australia. We would email each other about the trials and tribulations of teen life. We found something in each other. Over the years we have given each other constant support. We take turns in visiting each other and it is my turn next; I am going to Melbourne in November. I would name Susie one of my best friends. She is the only person I tell everything to, and I think we all need a person like that. Despite being in a different country, she is always there for me. I adore her and she is pretty much a babe.

September #3

Sunday, October 17, 2010


Next week is going to be a fucking nightmare.

Start over

What the Living Do

Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably
fell down there.
And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes
have piled up

waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the everyday we
spoke of.
It’s winter again: the sky’s a deep headstrong blue, and the sunlight
pours through

the open living room windows because the heat’s on too high in here, and
I can’t turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street,
the bag breaking,

I’ve been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying
along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my
wrist and sleeve,

I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called
that yearning.

What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to
pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss – we want more and more and
then more of it.

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the
window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I’m gripped by a cherishing
so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m

I am living, I remember you.

Marie Howe, from her 1998 collection What the Living Do

I really like this poem, and I wanted to read it out for my video post but it is too long and I don't like the sound of my own voice. I just think it's so beautiful how people talk about the little things in life. These things may not seem particularly pertinent when you are doing them, but like a lot of things, just verbalizing something makes it special.

[Like, I was thinking the other day that if we look upon our own experiences and interactions in hindsight, it makes those experiences and interactions more valuable. If we can't contemplate our own lives then what does it really mean anyway?]

The sink being clogged and having to call the plumber, the crusty dishes, spilling coffee, having the heat on too high, buying a hairbrush, dropping a bag of groceries, your own reflection in a shop window. All of these things, these everyday things, there is beauty in each one of them.

I love the line "what you called that yearning" and sometimes I will think of it and say it out loud, putting emphasis on the word 'yearning' because that's how I imagine she meant it.

Ever since I read Susie's short story which mentioned everyday things, it made me think of this poem and then that prompted me to start this series which I guess is just called "everyday things". I am probably going to make it into a zine and call it "This is the everyday we spoke of" as a tribute to this poem.

Here is a teaser:

This is the way I like my tea: milk, no sugar.

I like to put the milk in first because that is how I have always done it. When people put the milk in last it secretly irks me. I think most people do it that way.

I have about 12 so far. But all of these projects I keep starting will have to wait until uni is over. I shouldn't even be writing this because I have too much to do. I sometimes question whether I'm going to make it.

videos and things

I have loved Conor Oberst since I was 15 years old. Monsters of Folk is like some sort of dream combination of people for me. It's nuts how awesome they are.

Whenever I record these video posts I tend to prop my laptop up in dumb places. For instance, tonight's was recorded atop a fruit bowl. I was also rather worried about the white space in the background. It made my loungeroom look much more giant than it actually is. I have also realised, through them, how cartoon like my face actually is.

I did another one that you can see on youtube if you want. But I don't know why you would do that.

Also more generally I think that me and Stacey should make this blog about what we do with ourselves and our lives. To initiate this, I would like to tell ya'll that yesterday I finished classes for my undergraduate degree, which is pretty exciting. I still have to do assignments, so of course it doesn't feel as if things are ending - just the normal end of year rush and anxiety.

Me and Stacey are also making plans (along with my friend Zoe - she makes really neat stuff, just look at her blog!) to go to Campus a Low Hum next year. I experienced some difficulties buying tickets to that this week and realised how kind the phone people are at both Westpac and Commonwealth banks. I recommend their assistance, should you ever need it/any assistance. Call them up for a chat even, I'm sure it would be super pleasant.

I am also turning 21 in 8 days. I have not felt any wisdom tooth related pain yet, so I am not feeling much angst about that. Probably more concerned about "getting a real job" and "not relying on scholarship money". Good times ahead.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Watching The Moon by Izumi Shikibu


At the moment I am enjoying poetry that contains imagery.

I do not like summer very much at all. I want to move somewhere where it's cold at Christmas, where things start halfway through the year. Time in the southern hemisphere rests too much on the way the months go around the calendar and it seems like having your events finish at the same time as a year is just a little too much excitement.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Summer #2

I was thinking that Summer is like warm honey on my skin.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

My last 3 Summers

Summer 07/08

One Summer, me and Sam went to New Plymouth for Womad. We had only been going out for 3 months. We were barely out of Auckland when my tire exploded on the motorway. It was a really beautiful and long drive. We got there in the late afternoon and drank beers in the grass. We watched some bands and walked around. When it got late we drove to this lake and had a very uncomfortable sleep in my car. On the drive home, we stopped at a beach and skinny dipped. It was so warm that day. When we got back to Auckland, he told me he loved me for the first time.

Summer 08/09

Sam and I went to Tauranga. It was a beautiful time.

We also went to Waiheke because there was a sculpure walk. I really love Waiheke Island, and it was a really brilliant day. You walked through this track which went through bushes and meadows and it was right by the ocean. It took you about an hour to walk through and at the end there was a tent with food and beverages.

Summer 09/10

Summer/Christmas time is about family for me. Me and my sister went to the beach most days. We went to this beach called Kaitarakihi, and we liked it because it is small and beautiful and hardly anyone goes there. It is like our little secret. I also went down to Te Awamutu to stay with Sam and his family. We went on bush walks and stuff. I played with his grandparent's cool dogs. At night we would drink wine and play lots of silly games.

Topics for 13-20 Oct


Read aloud a poem that you like.

from 'good morning, midnight' by jean rhys

"When I saw him looking up like that I knew that I loved him, and that it was for always. It was as if my heart turned over, and I knew that it was for always"

p 130

I adore this quote even though I have never felt like that before.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

what I wore today

Stacey sent me this top ages ago. 
The cat skirt is my favourite ever.
I wasn't sure whether to wear tights today but then it rained and I was glad, except I think that people stare at me for wearing such a bright colour.
Pardon my face.

I will keep you company on those days so long and black

When I think about the poems that I like, they are not only written by classic poets but also more contemporary poets who play with the medium of poetry a bit more. They blur the line between the poetic and the literal. I like this kind of almost non-poetry because, not only can it be interesting, but it feels more immediate and personal. I suppose that is the way that I like to write my poetry. Meter, rhyme, and prosody just seem so tired to me. I think there is still a place for those things, and they can be done beautifully, but there is so much more exciting and innovative things that people are doing with poetry today. When I read a poem, there are many factors that contribute to me liking it or not. The two main things are the language used, and the emotional reaction it elicits. So, I guess the whole idea of something being "poetic" doesn't really matter at all to me, so long as I can connect to and appreciate the poem.

short story

This is a story about every morning when her housemate woke her up. This is a story about when the cat got stuck in the storeroom for hours but didn't poo in it. It's a story about the time when they decided to have fish and chips because it was a warm afternoon, the first one since the last summer, and how they had to pay 40c for individual sauce packets because there was no sauce at home. It's about the way the wind blows on a forty degree day on the edge of a country town, has a bit of dirt in it too, and blows spiky gusts against bare legs. It's about when the first indie band she ever started listening to finally release a new album and everybody is anticipating it but she will never forget how special their first CD was on those lonely nights studying just to get out of that tiny town.

This story is about the quiet freshness in the mountains and how lovely he thought it was that of all the places in the world, deep in the mountains seemed like one of the places that might remain untouched for a long time yet. He remembers how at high school he was the only one to pick up rubbish from their spot on the lawn: now when he leaves food courts he has to put everybody's rubbish away and is uncomfortable with leaving it there even though the cleaning ladies are always loitering around ready to take it. It is about when he moved into a place with his girlfriend for the first time and it turned out one of their housemates were growing shrooms. They would never take drugs together because her father died recently. Their electricity bills were huge that winter.

She never had the courage to ask if she could use the milk or the bread and figured it was better just to use them when her housemate was out - she was annoying anyway - and use as much as she thought she could without being noticeable. This story is about the time when she passed people in the corridor and must have been pulling a face because after she walked by she heard them asking "what was that about" and she resolved to seem more happy when she walked in public places, even though the incident really made her more sad than she really was. This is all about the time when she couldn't decide to kiss him because she had just eaten something satay, even though they were sleeping so close together it he probably smelt it anyway.

This story finishes with the time they both thought how nothing really seemed to ever work out or matter and life was just a combination of small events in a too big world, that time they didn't know how to write about the weight that they felt every day inside so other people would feel it too, or whether that they even felt that weight and were just trying to make themselves feel as terrible as everybody else they knew.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Part 3: Animals

Trouble, Miscellaneous cows, Mittens, Horse.

Welcome to my hell

Sig. 2 tailed e.g. 0.000000000007% (p value) chance that there is a type 1 error, so we would be confident that there is a significant correlation between these two variables. anything over 5% (0.05) is too high, not a significant correlation. e.g. if p= .183, it would be 18% which is too high, and it’s a weak correlation. the closer to 0 it is, the more significant the correlation is.

probability value = 0.000007 or 0.999993 chance that there is a correlation

regression analysis is part of correlation

R square is how similar the two variables are, how much they overlap, e.g. venn diagram

constant (B) refers to the y intercept, and slope of the line underneath

beta is standardized, if we used z scores, same as R, regression not useful if you have just 2 variables

I took these notes in class last week and now have no idea what any of it means.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

why I love Stacey

this picture
I saved as the cover art
for  "Stacey mix 1"
a mix cd that is now in parts
going from computer to computer with me
over the last five years
tracks that remain are
a scale, a mirror & those indifferent clocks - bright eyes
beautiful - belle & sebastian
science vs romance - rilo kiley
with arms outstretched - rilo kiley
dead disco - metric
a better son/daughter - rilo kiley
black comedy - bright eyes
the genre is "steak" because
one time Stacey said a boy
at a party called her Steaky


I started this pseudo diary thing in 2007 where I'd just write a few lines. It goes from May 07 to Jan 09. I haven't looked at it in a while, and it made me feel quite sentimental. Here are some highlights:

Sunday 27 May 07
A plane, a backpack, a goodbye.

Friday 29 June 07
I'm stupid really,
but Laura told me that someone told her that
no emotion is stupid.

Tuesday 14th August
These thoughts make even more sense because I am whispering them before I type them.

Mon 12 Nov
Melieshas grandpa died today.

We just listened.


Bye bye Ben.

Sunday 18th Nov 07
I have perspective.

Tues 27th Nov
Kiss me on the lips.

Monday 17th March 2008
I love you.

Wednesday 19th March
Relief and 

Speaking for trees.

Sunday 20th April



Monday 21st April 2008
I am no more or less than you.

Sunday 25th May
Are things falling apart?

or coming together?

My foggy mind.

Monday something of June, 2008.
"I really do love you, and not being around you physically hurts sometimes."

Sunday 15th June
What is Truth?

What does this gurgling sound in my stomach mean?

What am I doing here again?

Sunday 3rd August 2008
A dizzying sort of existence.

Thursday 11th Sept
Love, vulnerability and mix cds.

Sunday 28 Sep
My feet are cold and I'm living my life in bed.

23 December 2008




Saturday, October 9, 2010

Lame outfit post

Didn't expect that door to be there. Also I feel like my voice is really manly when recorded.

Friday, October 8, 2010

I Love Susie: Part 1


This morning on my run I saw that guy from Shortland Street and also Being Eve and I was so star struck.

I hope my next boyfriend has a sweet beard.

Is there more to life than blog hits?

I hope I don't get manly leg muscles from running.

When things get bad enough I guess I sort of clock over and start anew.

In my lecture, a girl has a pencil case that says 'Miss Whatever' written in pink glitter.

Today at uni me and my friend ate churros and felt really sick.

Pear cider on sale for $5.90.

Walking down K'Rd by myself at 1am and a jock makes fun of my beret.

Tonight I talked to a really tall boy and it hurt my neck to look up at him.

I think one of my flatmates ate my last packet of mi goreng.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

visual statement poem

Part 2: Boys + computers

Things I am doing to improve my life

1. Running - It makes me feel like I've been productive, makes me feel good (sup endorphins), and gives me something to do.

2. Deciding to go to a counsellor - I feel like the act of deciding to do this was more helpful than the actual sessions. But it is good to talk to a professional. Plus, I am a psychology student, so it's research in a roundabout way.

3. Loving myself - I never used to, but now I am appreciating my inherent 'Stace-ness'.

4. No boys - I need to be by myself for a while, and be comfortable with being alone. It's pretty hard though. I haven't been single for more than a month in the past four years. I also think that boys are often detrimental to my well being, well, the wrong ones are anyway. (May fail hard at this one)

5. Finally deciding what to do next year - I am half way through a psychology degree which I like but don't see a career in it for me. So I applied for two other degrees (Vet Nursing; Animal Management and Welfare), thought about applying for one other (English) and also seriously thought about moving to Melbourne. When Melbourne fell through and I decided I didn't want to be a vet nurse, I thought I should probably finish my degree. So now I am continuing with that, only I am doing creative writing as my minor.

6. Positivity - I have to consciously say self-affirming things to myself, and it's pretty lame but I don't care. "I am awesome."

7. Going to be more social - Go to more gigs. Drink more cider (social situations stress me out). I could do with some more friends. Friends are nice.

8. Keeping busy - I am approaching the end of the semester, which is good because I have so much work to do, but bad because I don't want to do any of it. Also trying to find stuff to do over the Summer holidays because I usually get pretty depressed when I have too much free time.

9. Doing all of the above things - I realised that the most important thing is just deciding to do all of these things, and not whether I actually achieve anything from them. It's as if the act of making an effort to improve one's life is enough gratification.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

my turn

Poetry is something we here think about a lot and it's interesting to decipher what makes something poetic and what doesn't. I've been considering this idea a lot due to reading Voiceworks submissions - we certainly have a particular style of poetry that we publish and I'd be interested to hear what Stacey (and our readers!) think makes something poetic.

** Amendment **

Having considered a few things inside and outside of myself, I feel as if this topic "what makes something poetic" should be written as opposed to video. But to make good on the visual side of things, I want us to post pics of our outfits. Freakin rad, right.

Monday, October 4, 2010


When all was said I felt okay.
I went about my day and when I got home I went for a run.
Then I sat on the deck and wrote a poem about how I felt strong.
I thought about if I was going to be okay and I figured that I would.
I thought about how I wanted to be a whole person from now on.
My sister sat on the deck with me for a while and we talked about nothing much.
I thought about how I loved my sister a lot.
I sat on the deck until the sun was setting and it got cold.
I zipped up my jumper and put my hood up.
I wondered what was for dinner so I asked my sister and she said, "Quesadillas" and I was like, “Yum.”
My sister's boyfriend, Sam, came and asked what I wanted in my quesadilla.
I said "No onion or tomato" because I hate onion and tomato.
I sat there in the dying light and I just felt happy that I existed.
I always feel like this when I watch documentaries about the universe on Discovery Channel.
Yesterday I watched one about galaxies.
I thought it would be cool to be an astrophysicist just so you could say you were an astrophysicist.
I thought about black holes and stuff for a while.
Finally it got too cold and my quesadilla was ready.


Part 1: People

Me, Joseph, Kiki, Kristy, Sam.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

This video is about what I did yesterday

my eyes look rather cartoonish! I think that's how they actually are though.

if you live in Australia, are under 25 and are into drawing/illustrating, Voiceworks neeeeeeds visual art surrounding the topic 'technicolour' for the next issue. seriously. we crave it. submit that shit here plz

Friday, October 1, 2010

since i deleted the other one

go find another lover

I am sitting outside on my deck dunking biscuits into my tea.

I always make myself too much pasta.

This morning I openly wept on the bus.

On my run I saw six ginger cats sitting on a trampoline and I thought I was dreaming.

I like eating fruit in public.

I wrote several statement poems about you.

I have jaffas in my pocket.

I am listening to ABBA in a kebab shop.

I lay in my bed and my feet are cold.

statement poem videos

I am now in Newcastle and it turns out that not only am I staying in my dream house but there is supremely excellent wifi throughout it and I will be able to blog to my heart's content.

To this end, here is the statement poem I owe Stacey from last week. It is not very beautiful or poignant because frankly I haven't had any thoughts that were worthwhile. The only statement poem I have properly thought of is "I have not had any good thoughts this week" and I am trying to remove the I from my writing so that wasn't an option.

However I always have this thought:

When you get trains throughout Melbourne you will notice that the concrete sides of the train track enclosure things (hard to explain) and bottom of platforms have been terribly grafitied. I suspect it is the train companies who do this but it is painted over with boring colours. Near East Richmond station you can see that they have painted over the grafitti but someone painted a heart shape above the border of this paint. And this is when I realised "boys will never know how much we think of them"

A Quote

From the book I am reading, Narcissus and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse:

"Ah, everything good and beautiful is forbidden us, we were both born for sadness."