This afternoon, I got some jeans.
They are incredibly run of the mill, but anything would be an improvement upon my current pair which are so faded they're almost white, and so shredded at the cuffs that I either have to fold them up or wear them with boots. And the only boots I own are gumboots.
Whilst I was at Target getting the aforemantioned jeans (I know. I'm classy.), I saw one of those floofy peasant shirt thingies. I thought to myself 'Hmmm. I wonder what I'd look like in one of those.'
Here's the answer: a mushroom. As it turns out, quasi-Sinti Eastern European gypsy is not a look I can rock. I can however totally rock the look of Eastern European downtrodden farmer or tailor. I guess it's genetic.
And although I've been bagging out my old jeans, I'm still going to wear them to every winter mufti day...along with my Target gumboots.
And the belonging.
I have a bit of a quandary when it comes to finding self selected texts for belonging.
Initially, I was going to use The Shipping News (Annie Proulx), but that turns out to be an Ext Eng proscribed text, which means I can't use it.
I could use the movie, but it's just so bloody depressing.
Even so, I have too many self seleceted texts to choose from. There's The Shipping News (movie), Kolya (Czech movie about the Velvet Revolt), Forrest Gump (Winston Groom), or The Savage Altar (Asa Larson).
I should have two. I hate having to choose. They're all really good.
Oh well.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Tuesday arvo
Written during double english. Thus explaining the later use of present tense.
At lunch I discovered that my rpevious title of Latin class whore has been upgraded to a generalised kinky whore. Thanks Monica.
In English, instead of puttimg my hand up whenever Mr Turner (the vampirate teaching us Frankenstein) asks a question, like the complete nerd that I am, I'm sitting completely still, with a bored look on my face.
First I got back a piece of creative writing which I threw together during a double period of Modern History on the last day of term (when it was due). Apparently I have the foundations right (i.e. my spelling is correct and I'm anal about grammar) but my plot, whilst "imaginative" (read: mildly ludicrous) really didn't deal with Belonging.
Of course it didn't. I'm rubbish at Creative Writing, and I think that Belonging as a stupid concept. But anyway.
Back to me seeing if I can mess with the head of my teacher by lacking opinion. Because I'm the only one who consistently answers questions.
Class started at 1.15.
Mr Turner is working hard to get input from the class. He asks a question ...pauses ...elaborates ...pauses ...waits a bit more ...eventually someone mutters something with an interrogative upwards inflection and he jumps on it in a desperate attempt to prompt class discussion.
1.50
He still hasn't cracked. But he's definitely working harder that usual.
2.15
A good minute of silence waiting for an answer. A decent start. I'm going to need to continue this not working on class participation shindig. It's rather enjoyable.
At lunch I discovered that my rpevious title of Latin class whore has been upgraded to a generalised kinky whore. Thanks Monica.
In English, instead of puttimg my hand up whenever Mr Turner (the vampirate teaching us Frankenstein) asks a question, like the complete nerd that I am, I'm sitting completely still, with a bored look on my face.
First I got back a piece of creative writing which I threw together during a double period of Modern History on the last day of term (when it was due). Apparently I have the foundations right (i.e. my spelling is correct and I'm anal about grammar) but my plot, whilst "imaginative" (read: mildly ludicrous) really didn't deal with Belonging.
Of course it didn't. I'm rubbish at Creative Writing, and I think that Belonging as a stupid concept. But anyway.
Back to me seeing if I can mess with the head of my teacher by lacking opinion. Because I'm the only one who consistently answers questions.
Class started at 1.15.
Mr Turner is working hard to get input from the class. He asks a question ...pauses ...elaborates ...pauses ...waits a bit more ...eventually someone mutters something with an interrogative upwards inflection and he jumps on it in a desperate attempt to prompt class discussion.
1.50
He still hasn't cracked. But he's definitely working harder that usual.
2.15
A good minute of silence waiting for an answer. A decent start. I'm going to need to continue this not working on class participation shindig. It's rather enjoyable.
Chivalry
This morning I had to catch the bus with my Tuba. It's unwieldly, heavy, the wheels don't function properly, and it has a turnign circle larger than that of the Titanic.
Usually, the bus, after I get on at Blakehurst High wends its way through Carss Park, Kogarah Bay and Carlton before arriving at Kogarah where it divests itself of passengers in order to reverst the journey back to Hurstville.
Today however, as I was wresting the evil plastic monstrosity fo a case (overpackaging much?), the bus driver said that he would continue on to my school after reachign Kogarah (according to Cityrail, it's another 700m. It's not that difficult with the tuba - the wheels may not function properly, but at least they function - it's just irriatating when the Kogarah High kids ask me whether I have a body in tere. As if I'd tell them if I did.)
Thanks bus driver.
Chivalry isn't dead.
Usually, the bus, after I get on at Blakehurst High wends its way through Carss Park, Kogarah Bay and Carlton before arriving at Kogarah where it divests itself of passengers in order to reverst the journey back to Hurstville.
Today however, as I was wresting the evil plastic monstrosity fo a case (overpackaging much?), the bus driver said that he would continue on to my school after reachign Kogarah (according to Cityrail, it's another 700m. It's not that difficult with the tuba - the wheels may not function properly, but at least they function - it's just irriatating when the Kogarah High kids ask me whether I have a body in tere. As if I'd tell them if I did.)
Thanks bus driver.
Chivalry isn't dead.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Labels and other blog formating nightmares
I wanted to get the thingy which one sticks on the side of one's blog which shows the different labels one has used with relative size showing the frequency with which that label has been used.
The closest I could get was that weird swirly label sphere thingummywhatsit located below the blog archive.
I am underwhelmed.
The closest I could get was that weird swirly label sphere thingummywhatsit located below the blog archive.
I am underwhelmed.
Metallica
A few posts ago, I was rather put ut by the fact that scuttlebutt is that Metallica would be coming to Australia in august.
As it turns out, they're playing at Acer Arena on November 18, which is after the HSC.
I am excited beyond description. I'm doing a happy dance.
OH MY GOD, I'M GOING TO A METALLICA CONCERT.
As it turns out, they're playing at Acer Arena on November 18, which is after the HSC.
I am excited beyond description. I'm doing a happy dance.
OH MY GOD, I'M GOING TO A METALLICA CONCERT.
Lacrosse
Today was the first game of the new Lacrosse season. This made me happy.
I sustained numerous arm and shin bruises, which means I spent a very productive hour playing.
I have the post-violent-sport happies :)
See: I'm so happy I did a smiley face.
I sustained numerous arm and shin bruises, which means I spent a very productive hour playing.
I have the post-violent-sport happies :)
See: I'm so happy I did a smiley face.
Incoherent Indies
I was watching Rage on ABC on Saturday morning, and I was reminded of one of my pet hates: incoherent apathetic indie bands with stupid names.
They mumble, they ‘sing’ in irritating breathy voices that demonstrate quite obviously that they have absolutely no diaphragm support whatsoever, and they have stupid band names.
What kind of an idiotic name is ‘Fire! Santa Rosa. Fire!’? seriously.
And what about ‘Fauns’.
It’s only a matter of time before they just start taking names out of science textbooks: I will in no way be surprised when there’s a band called ‘the Electrolytic Cells’ or perhaps ‘Xloem vessels’. And let’s not rule out ‘the Tickertapes’; ‘the Hubble Telescopes’; ‘the Stephen Hawkings’… I could go on.
And it’s as if they can’t even get enthusiastic about their own music. They just stand there, playing their instruments in an expressionless manner. They seem to think they’re too cool for their music, but they’ll deign to play it anyway, and we just have to deal with their boredom.
On a slightly unrelated note, scuttlebutt is that Metallica is coming to Australia in August. Tiff (the one who introduced me to the joys of Metallica) and I are really cut that it’s in the middle of trials.
Damn and blast.
They mumble, they ‘sing’ in irritating breathy voices that demonstrate quite obviously that they have absolutely no diaphragm support whatsoever, and they have stupid band names.
What kind of an idiotic name is ‘Fire! Santa Rosa. Fire!’? seriously.
And what about ‘Fauns’.
It’s only a matter of time before they just start taking names out of science textbooks: I will in no way be surprised when there’s a band called ‘the Electrolytic Cells’ or perhaps ‘Xloem vessels’. And let’s not rule out ‘the Tickertapes’; ‘the Hubble Telescopes’; ‘the Stephen Hawkings’… I could go on.
And it’s as if they can’t even get enthusiastic about their own music. They just stand there, playing their instruments in an expressionless manner. They seem to think they’re too cool for their music, but they’ll deign to play it anyway, and we just have to deal with their boredom.
On a slightly unrelated note, scuttlebutt is that Metallica is coming to Australia in August. Tiff (the one who introduced me to the joys of Metallica) and I are really cut that it’s in the middle of trials.
Damn and blast.
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