Ahahaha, BUTTONS!

So, I managed to break my ankle (it was raining, I slipped). It's more inconvenient than painful, but it does mean I get to sit in bed all day knitting. I now have an army of tiny adorable duckies!

I present, for your edification and amusement, Dr. TinyDuck!

You can trust him, he's a doctor. Quack.

I've also crafted myself an army of evil pumpkin heads, but I didn't have nearly enough eye-buttons for them. So I got me some more! Now I sit in bed all day sewing button eyes onto things. Totally not pretending I'm someone's Other Mother. Mwahahah.

Random Pretty

I don't usually post up SecondLife pictures in this blog, but I just really liked the lighting in this shot that I took a few days ago, and something about it catches me. And yes, that's my avatar, Valerian Levee-Vayandar (double-barelled last name makes me giggle!).

 So there. Random pretty?

ClearSkies~V

Random Pretty

Darling Harbour, Sydney. August 2009

Random Pretty

This is 'De Waag', a "weigh house". It's really quite pretty, 

Dad nearly slipped down the stairs right after I took this picture.

The flu's been kicking my arse for about a week now. I'm too lazy to actually work under this kind of duress, so in the absence of actual postage I offer unto you a lil ceramic elephant. He's pretty cute, no?

Right, now I'm going back to bed. I will say this for stupid bodyache - it's helping me get a lot of knitting done, now that I've reached my TV limit. Soundtrack for knitting: CANADIANS! (k. d. lang, Neil Young, Our Lady Peace, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Anna & Kate McGarrigle, Barenaked Ladies, The New Pornographers, Raine Maida, Tegan & Sara. It's a strange playlist.)

Rambling of the Sleepless

Thought 1: Creativity is fickle. I would really like to know why mine kicks in around 4am every morning, irregardless of whether I'm sleeping like a baby, sleeping restless, wide-awake, or just woke up. Tis unfair, I declare, miserably unfair. Tonight for example, I've been poking - quite diligently - at the next installment for Valerian Night, my flash fiction blog, but the words failed me constantly; I just couldn't work out what to write. The words were dead, I tell ya! Yet now, if I sat down, opened a document, I could write, and I know I could write what I needed to write: what I want it to say. Standing in front of my bookshelf, trying to decide what to read and finally deciding upon attempting to reread Gathering Storm, I took two steps back to my room when I realised that I didn't want to read. Instead, I wanted to write. The next thought that popped up in my head was: that's lame, I should go to back to bed.

Thought 2: The other thing that puzzles me is this whole sleep thing. Apparently we need it, we can catch up on it, but we can't stock up on it? You'd think with the amount I've been sleeping these past couple of weeks that I'd be all for being able to stay awake, maybe pull an all-nighter here and there.

Thought 3: On the cute side of all things, both the cats are on my bed again, it seems to be their fave place to be. Hopefully they'll share that corner of the blanket. Signet is heavy.

Thought 4: I wish I really could put my mind in a hatbox at night, that way it wouldn't pester me while I was trying to sleep. Seriously, thinking can really suck. You're lying there, minding - ignore the pun - your own business when suddenly WHAM! THOUGHT! and you can count sleep derailed because you're thinking about how neat it would if XYZ, or how shiny it would be if ABC, or whatever.

Thought 5: ...this was a bad idea for a blog entry, even if it was random ramble...


ClearSkies~V

Silver Linings

You ever get that feeling? You know, the one that makes you think you've hit the biggest obstacle in your life and you've got no inkling on how to tackle it? It's a lot like despair, if you had to give it a name. The deep, cold, dark despair that sucker punches you in the stomach with just thatuch extra oomph right after the silent numbness of shock has vacated your nervous system. All you can think is "Let it be before, take back this knowledge, this experience; let it be when everything was right".

We've all faced this, in some form or another, let's be honest, and if you haven't, you're either living lucky, not doing something right, or you've got it coming at you with extra extra oomph. It's the heartbreak of a breakup, the diagnosis of a incurable illness, the F you got on your math test, or the car accident you shouldn't have had. It's the decisions you've made, the path you've ended up on, by whatever means, fair or foul: if you're human, probably a bit of both. Whether it's a small thing or something that literally hold lives in the balance, the emotion is still there and one thing is universally true, irregardless of faith, ideology, class, or race: IT F***ING SUCKS. I totally dare anyone to disagree with me.

The question that really makes the difference though, is what you're going to do next. Sure, your gut's wrenched, eyes cried out of your skull, you've eaten a tub full of ice cream, ranted at someone, possibly written a really long letter (or hell, a blog entry maybe), set fire to photos, had a few too many drinks, etc. so forth and so on... That's great. Now what? In case  you hadn't noticed, that feeling is still there, and it's not going to go away on a hurry. You can't fix it by staying in the moment, can you? Or looking back longingly at yesterday thinking "Damn, they was an awesome day, I cans has plez?". It just won't fix that way. So what can you do? Look forward, when you can bare it, look ahead; think things through. Even the most horrid things give way somewhere; always a silver lining, if you choose to search for the right angle.

Optimism is rare enough to find in this world, but it's there alright, tucked away between cynicism and self-preservation. Sure, that thought killing pain won't go away, not right away, but it does help to remember that while time may not heal all wounds, if you'll let it, it will give you respite in form of a lighter perspective.

Just some thoughts from your friendly (sleepless) optimist.

ClearSkies~V    

Riding the productivity wave with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction.

I've already got a bunch of stuff done today. I posted some flash fiction earlier, in spite of my mortal dread of putting my baby out there for consumption (go nuts with the constructive criticism, folks!), did some tidying, made soup, fed the worms, gave the plants some love (& worm pee) & so on. I'm also finalising a back-to-school application by putting the finishing touches on a portfolio of writing, and I actually feel kindof satisfied with that.

It's 2.24 pm. So why the hell do I feel like I have accomplished nothing of worth today? This isn't even a rant. When I fail at ranting, I'm really failing. I can always rant.

I do not like my brain chemistry, because my brain chemistry does not like me. Fuck you, brain.

Progress!

L: It's like having a baby bird on my head! And you can rub it!

This post could technically be labelled as 'things we say', 'things I think', 'things I overanalyse', or maybe just 'hyperactive sleep-deprived ramblings'. Think I'll just go with 'random'.

So. It turns out, I have a complicated relationship with my hair. Well, since my hair is only a few mm long, it's not so complicated right now, but it's anybody's bet where that goes from here. This is very likely an unwarranted piece of navel-gazing, but I feel like blathering about it, so there.

(Yes, I'm hiding behind my pillow, and yes, all my bedding is blue. Yes, I'm aware that blue is the favourite colour of depressed people. Your point?)

I didn't realise that shaving my head would enable me to examine my neuroses quite so effectively. I'd've done it years ago, except... well, I was to gutless to do it years ago, and I doubt I would've learnt much from it then, anyway. (Aw, L feels like she's gettin all growed up! Actually, that's a lie.)

Ahem. So. I started thinking about all of this when it was commented upon that perhaps shaving your head (especially when you are a person of the female persuasion) is not the most obvious way to go about being inconspicuous. This is apparently hilarious, since I loathe the thought of being noticeable - or indeed visible - in public. Since then, I've been thinking about this whole melange of stuff, including: why does it have to be so much more 'normal' to make a decision to alter your personal presentation for charity, than because you felt like it? Why does it have to be particularly weird for a girl to shave her head? Why must people assume that I'm broadcasting something about my status because of my hair? Why have I found it so bizarrely reassuring to realise that I can in fact tell when people are out-and-out staring at me? And why am I so much more worried about my Mum's reaction (when she finally sees it in person) than anybody else's?

It's anybody's guess. But these things are indeed occupying my brain-space. I'm finding it particularly interesting that shaving off my hair has enriched my life in so many random ways. It's cut down the resources I use - no more hair-washing showers or products, so the water shortage and my budget are both fans; no more agonizing over what to do with it, so more time and less image-consciousness, and a whole lot of interesting revelations about body image and public perception.

I have to admit that there was one downer - Empire Records lied to me. It is not that easy to shave your head.

OMG I need a drink!

Wandering around town today, having run some errands, and I've got this thought running through my head as I'm sitting on the bus on the way home: 'God, I could use a drink'. This of course, made me go O.o, because I've rarely actually had the whole 'OMG I need a drink' thing going on, and this lead me to consider whether or not the I should have a drink when I got home. The funny thing is, I now understand the habit my father is in of having at least one whiskey-soda on the rocks every day after work; you'd think, having spent nearly a decade making them for him, I'd have gotten used to whiskey sooner, but no, vodka was always my preferable poison. Recent change of heart has lead that to shift towards the whiskey. Dad's birthday was yesterday...I was really tempted to include a 'Hey Dad! Whiskey rocks!' line in it, but somehow I wasn't sure if the tone would go down well, being just words and all. The last thing I want is to get an email (or a call!) inquiring into my drinking habits - though 'habits' might be a strong term, but lets not dwell on that.

I will always insist that being irresponsibly drunk is a bad thing, and it is; the first time I got drunk...yeah, let's not go there, that was a bad idea and I regretted it violently the next day (and I think L took particular pleasure in attempting to feed me banana muffins - which I'm sure were delicious, but OMG NO!). So yeah, nooot doing that again...seriously, mixing frozen berries with champagne is no go.

And thus I end my little randomnessity for the night...

>.>

<.<

Clear Skies~V

Random Pretty

This is RJ (A's adorable lil boy) giving Valerian (V's SL Avatar) a biiig smoochie!

Yayy I gots kisses!

Hey Ma, I'm a cueball!

So, for quite a long time I've toyed with the idea of shortening my hair... radically. Last night, after an Easter spent visiting family (not at all traumatic, oddly), the hair got the chop. I left it uber short & fuzzy for a while (and may have walked around the supermarket giggling and rubbing my head like a crazy/silly/silly-crazy person), and then decided to go the whole hog & shave it all off.

Behold, my shiny egg-head:

Good thing it's coming in to winter, 'cause the sunburn, I do not want!

So, I sort my sugar hits before eating them...

How to cure a hangover (and the 100th Post, ironically)

I suppose some of you are going 'what does innocent lil Miss V know about hangovers?' Let me put it this way: I'm currently nursing one, ergo, I consider myself intimately familiar with hangovers since I've had one pretty much every day since Saturday, not for lack of trying to avoid it. And no, before you all get up onto your high horses, I don't have a drinking problem, it's been a social activity, and I'm at that point where I feel like I'm quite capable of pushing my limits. So there.

So anyways, out of sheer 'I should be doing school work but I'm not entirely alive yet' syndrome, I've been trolling the net looking for random ideas people might have on 'how to cure a hangover'. I found a whole series of fascinating experience-proven methods, including anything from not moving a muscle until fifteen hours after you first wake up (I figure that'll get boring real fast), to having another drink (I don't know about you, but if I'm hungover bad, that just isn't going to happen).

(...my horoscope just informed me that 'mental activity is right up my alley today', somehow I beg to differ.)

The article I found that I figured might be the most practical use was this one, from the Daily Telegraph, aptly titled 'Hangover Cure Guide' I might, in the future, after I survive this current little hangover, attempt to work my way through that list and give you a verdict, but for the time being I'll stick with barroca, water, and toast...and maybe, if a headache manifests itself, a nurofen plus.

Till then, I guess it serves us right.

Clear Skies~V

Holy cow, I am a lazy, lazy non-person.

So, I'm going to fall into that tried-and-tested blog apology - I have totally failed to post... well, pretty much at all in the past couple of months, and for those who give a damn, I apologise. I can pretty much guarantee it'll happen again, though. Just sayin'.

I guess there should be a holiday-roundup taken care of first up: it was awesome. Apart from that bit where I crashed my Mum's car, that is. That was frustrating and upsetting, and I can now add 'guilt-ridden' to my various other neuroses. On the upside, I managed not to kill V in the process, and the only injuries were inflicted on said vehicle (sorry, Tracy). Thanks to the stupidity of insurance companies, the car was written off due to the relatively minor damage (Although I'm still confused about how I managed to screw up the wheel alignment, rear axle, crack the windshield and blow out a tyre while only putting a couple of scratches in the bodywork, but what the hell). Also, V bounced completely off the seat during said accident, but is so tiny that she didn't even hit her head (*whew*).

Before I wiped out the car we were using for our lil Tasmanian road trip, we spent a fun(!) spider-filled night in a caravan at Orford; camped in the Douglas Apsley National Park, visited my ex-sister-in-law and her two delightful (and incredibly energetic) toddlers, stayed in the St. Helens YHA and drove to the Bay of Fires. If you ever have the chance to take your time and see Tasmania, it's a beautiful place - also, wandering around in summer is pleasant, rather than hot. I'll trade 40 degree Canberra days for 25-in-the-sun any day.

We spent a goodly amount of time picking berries. More or less every day we were at my mum's, actually - our record was 5kg for one afternoon's effort. Freezers that smell of raspberries are awesome. I will also post the most amazing summer dessert recipe ever at a later stage, if only 'cause it's fun to be enjoying an antipodean summer while various places experience their snowmageddon.

(Is anyone else underwhelmed by using 'snowpocalypse' or 'snowmageddon' to describe these snowstorms? I guess it must be comforting to have a way to refer to them when you're stuck in the middle of one, but I can't help feeling that if we're gonna make up words, they might as well be fun ones.)

I also spent a fair bit of time sorting through my childhood relics, and lugged a bunch of them home with me. If you've never come across Barbro Lindgren's The Wild Baby, I whole heartedly recommend it - possibly the most endearing and funniest toddler ever. Also, V and I apparently had the same first watches. Weird.

I will leave you with this last comment - 6am skinnydipping in the Douglas Apsley waterhole is the best wake-up idea ever.

Ah...Valentine's Day.

So. Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you're all snug 'n things with your partner of choice, be they male, female, virtual, furry, fluffy, blown up, near or far, a book, a cat, a dog, or a box of tissues and chocolates (or as it is in my case, a large bottle of vodka, a bottle of cranberry juice, and my computer).

I've been meaning to talk about this for a long time, but for some reason it just seemed silly and somewhat stupid to talk about that crazy lil thing called 'love' when, firstly, I don't claim to know a thing about it other than what goes on in my brain, and secondly, I figure it's different in all books. And then, hey, check out the date! Perfect excuse right? But before we begin, let me set the rules: I will not cry, I will not rant (much), I will attempt to be objective and general, and I will attempt to use as little profanity as I can. Provided you lot don't laugh or roll your eyes or cry, rant, rave, or judge. Also: I'm not the expert! I'm just being opinionated 'n stuff 'n things, so no one kill me. All happy? Awesome, let's rock...

I keep seeing people stuck in relationships they shouldn't be in, either at all or anymore, take your pick. I know people who shouldn't still be together, except somewhere down the line in the turns and twists of their relationship they forgot that they were allowed to choose their own way, and now they're stuck together for the rest of their lives (granted, at 70, I suppose you really have to want to get out). Humans are creatures of habits, we like things we know, we're scared of things we don't. So few of us take risks anymore, and those of us who do tend to be looked upon as 'crazy idiots who really should settle down'. The thing is, habits and patterns are all well and good, if they're good patterns and habits. If you're in a relationship right now where you respect and love your partner and get that respect and love back, where you're communication is brilliant and everything is shiny 'n happy etc etc etc, then by all means, stay in that pattern and that habit. People who end up sticking it out in relationships where the spark has flown, either need to rekindle (and no I don't know how, I'm just half ranting thoughts here) or need to break the cycle and move on. The trouble is, they don't, because they're in a pattern where they know the ins and outs, where they know the rules and they know how the game is played - even if they don't like that game.

Of course, it's easy for me to say all of that. They're only words for me, for people in the situation, they have to be actions and that's always harder than words.

I've always viewed Valentine's Day as a little bit of a 'silly' holiday, carrying the same weight like 'Teacher's Day' - that came out a little bitter, but the metaphor stands: Teacher's Day is great for people involved in it, bringing apples to the teacher or whatever the traditions are these days (did that make me sound old?). The same goes for good ole V-day: if you're in love, and you're with someone, YAYY!!! If you're not in love and (I suppose therefore) not with someone, then YAYY!! Just another day!! If you're in love but not with someone, then you're just f***ed, cept not literally, which would be part of the problem maybe. (Okay that was bad. Sorry, couldn't help it. BAD V! *finds L and gets  a slap on the wrist*).

(Side question...is quarter to 4 in the afternoon too early to start drinking?)

Of course, you could argue that Valentine's Day is primarily driven by the deliciously capitalist chocolate fabrication businesses, I mean this is their jackpot day right? Forget Halloween, forget Easter (though I would really like another chocolate orange, kthnxbai), and forget Christmas, Valentine's Day is where they really hit the spot. Why? Because people forget about it if they're not 'in the loop', and so they look at the calander and go 'Oh shit, Valentine's Day...should do something in case s/he thinks I forgot and don't love her/him! Where's the nearest chocolate store?'. Okay, so maybe that's a little cynical (*cough*unhealthycynicism*cough*)...and maybe I'm spending too much time thinking about it, but it is V-day...that kind of gives me perogative to think about it right?

Anyways, I hope I didn't spoil anyone's chocolate kisses, and those of you celebrating, celebrate away (safely, please, the world is already overpopulated, we'd like to avoid more accidents in the back of the car, kthnx). And those of you who can't wait to move onto the next chocolate season where you don't have to think about not being someone, it's okay, Easter's just around the corner and we can all celebrate Zombie-Jesus Day with extra chocolatey oranges 'n bunnies, if that's your thing.

Clear Skies~V

News worth reading? Wait, what?

BWAHAHAHAHA. Who'd have thought the Canberra Times could ever come up with an article worth the reading?

Also, I should add that I haven't slept yet, so it might be funnier now than it will be when I'm actually awake.


Clear Skies~V

Also...

Before I forget and someone kills me for it...




Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans who read or might read this!




Clear Skies~V&L

As an aside...

Just to chime in... since V decided to share her feelings about all that Twilight crap: this is pretty much the best description I've seen of it...

stupid friggin sparkly vampires... shitty cinematography... crappy acting... didn't bother to hide the wires... /mumblerant

Magma is a funny word.

So, lately all my post titles have been pinched from Looking for Group comics. Ah well, there's nothing original on the internets anyway, right?

I was just thinking that actually, hectopascal is a funny word. I always thought it was spelled hecterpascal, thanks to the delivery of the weatherman throughout my childhood, Mike Pook. (We always called him Pookie. The nightly weather was a somewhat onesided conversation at our place. Aaaand this haphazard train of thought has reminded me of the insane way my sister used to giggle whenever someone said 'Hong Kong', and got the old theme music from The Bill stuck in my head.)

Trying to distract myself from the ridiculous heat (I can't help but sit here and whimper at the fact that it's only going to get hotter for the next couple of months), I have, of course, been blogsurfing. Strangely, this is a form of procrastination I've only (relatively) recently embraced. At times it's a hugely counterproductive activity, since I have a tendency to get cranky when I'm thinking about stuff and things from a feminist perspective. At this point it's probably necessary to state that I am, in fact, explicitly outing myself as a feminist. Probably kindof obvious too, but what the hell.

So. For the past few months I've been wending my way through various blogs, grateful for these intelligent, articulate women writing stuff that makes me think, but intensely frustrated by the very stuff it makes me think about. A recent chemical change (hello, happy pills!) has me on a more even keel, and I think I've finally got the hang of thinking philosophically rather than angrily about male privilege, patriarchy, 'culture', all that jazz. V's probably sobbing with relief, since on of the real outcomes of this particular epiphany is a little less ear-bashing from me.

*Cough*

Ahem. Not sure what the actual point is here, but I reckon I might get to it eventually. I started wandering through feminist blogs (as a spectator; I don't tend to comment) because of this post. Some of them are on our blogroll; if you're at all interested in reading actual content from actual people who are actual feminists, I'd suggest dipping a toe in. I don't mean feminism in the sense that a lot of people seem to think about feminism; there's no bitter man-hating going on. It's not about teh evil menz so much as it's about paradigms, and paying attention, thinking critically about the ways people relate to each other and what that means.

A couple of months ago I was incredibly angry that no-one (apart from a bunch of people with blogs) seems to credit this as a conversation that desperately needs to be happening. John Howard might believe that we're in the 'post-feminist' stage of the 'debate', but I like to think that anyone with even a little bit of a brain can see that it's not a 'debate' when the wage gap is still ridiculous, and it's not a 'debate' when the choices women face in terms of career and family are so structurally unfair. It's not a debate when the much-needed American healthcare reform turns into an exercise in neglecting several forms of basic healthcare for women, or when the 'principles' of American conservatives prevent any federal US funding from going towards aid programs which provide abortions.

It's weird, to be something other than angry about all this. In a way, I am angry - I'm angry every time I hear someone say something that I know needs to be challenged - angry at them, and angry with myself for failing to challenge it, as I know I often do. Angry that on those occasions when I do manage to make that challenge, I fail to adequately articulate why these things are important, to me personally and to society as a whole.

So, maybe I am angry, but at least it feels like good angry. I spend a good chunk of each day hoping for updates, reading intelligent, articulate people write about important things, trivial things, amusing things, interesting things. I've learned a bunch of things about random stuff, from pedagogical techniques (I find myself addicted to academic blogs, even though I'm no longer studying; it's making me rethink my approach to being a student, even if it is a bit late...) to fat acceptance, and more topics in between than I ever thought I'd spend hours reading about.

I think maybe I lied before. I'm not sure I am getting to a point; I think I'm probably just crapping on about how awesome the internet can be. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with this random little epiphany, if I do anything; I guess I'll just leave this as a thankyou to all the people I've got blog-crushes on, who routinely make my intellectual life richer thanks to what they share.