I’m not sure, but I think that there is a mosquito under the desk, and I think it’s biting my feet. It’s really annoying.

Today I ordered some STAT questions. I’ll have to go online, check out the essay guidelines and see what needs writing and write it. I also have to make the decision on what language I actually want to study. I have background in French, and maybe it would be stupid to throw away so many years of study… but maybe that’s not where I want to be. I could study German, or Russian (that Clare’s suggestion, and it sounds interesting).

For some reason Noelle, Ro & mum just burst into a tuneless rendition of “Camp Granada”.

So anyway, Russian would be interesting, but I have trouble rrrrolling my rrrrrs, and there seems to be quite a bit of that going on. Still, I can always work on that. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever made a real effort to get over this thing where if something doesn’t come completely naturally to me, or isn’t effortless, I must be bad at it and there’s no point in trying. An example of this is how I never really tried with maths through high school because it wasn’t as easy as English and History and Geography and everything else that I liked, and the results that I got weren’t really encouraging simply because I didn’t try. But the job that I have now is all about calculations, and the whole thing is a numbers game. Maybe that’s why it’s become so joyless for me though.. once the challenge with anything is gone, I lose interest.

Oooh what a revelation.

Ah I’m being called for dinner.

Ok. A revelation. But then again, that doesn’t really work when it’s applied to my attitude towards writing. Maybe that’s just challenging enough, because you can never learn all the rules because there are none. Once you learn the rules with maths, that’s it, you’ve got it. With writing, there are no rules. Well, I guess there are parameters that you have to work within, for something to be called an essay, or a novel, or a short story, or a novella, or an ode, or a saga, or a sonnet, or a serial.. but within those parameters, you can just go crazy. And often it’s better that you do, that’s what stops things from being boring and usual.

I’m so tired. I should go to bed.

I am wrong in judging people. And I am wrong to feel so angry. I can’t give advice on things that I don’t fully understand. And I hardly understand ANYTHING. I feel sick from eating junk today. From never drinking soft drink to having three bottles of coke zero… and I don’t even really like it that much. I’ve got so many chemicals in my system right now and I just feel terrible.

I am tired, and was tired before, and it’s hot, and I feel sick, and everything has just culminated in one huge feeling of not wanting to exist. I feel so helpless, for Noelle, who has just had the ending of her neverending relationship. It’s been a long time coming. But the person who provided the finality has just been such a complete fucking selfish asshole about things (there it is – the most swearing you will ever hear uttered from my keyboard) and decided he “didn’t want to deal with it” until he was forced to, which was tonight. I mean, what a freaking joke. How can all of your intentions never actually come to anything? How can you intend to do so many things? How can you treat your friends better and with more respect and more of your time than your so-called girlfriend? I’m sorry, but most guys have things completely messed up. Girls are not a part-time job. They’re not something you just deal with so you can get laid once in a while.

Agh. I have to stop before I rant on.

So we went to Tropfest tonight. We had a BBQ by the sandy pool (oh sorry, I mean beach) of Southbank, and then watched the short films. Apparently Tropfest has the biggest audience of any film festival in the world (this little fact provided by Noelle) due to the simulcasts all over Australia (Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane…). The films were good. One, called “Fishy” was so disturbing I had my hands over my eyes for some of it, half hating and half loving the macabre unreality of it. The end was confusing. I think I got the point (somewhat) but Noelle’s conclusion was so different to mine that I have to wonder. She just hated it, as did Clare. And Clare said, “I know people like you, that like things that disturb you, but you’re nice at the same time, and the other people I know aren’t.” As if liking scary movies immediately makes you the scum of the earth, and anyone who isn’t becomes a curiosity. We missed out on the second half due to the end of the end of the end for Noelle, who was beset by such a profound and encompassing grief (stemming from a conversation with asshole mentioned earlier that left her shattered) that we left immediately.

I hope that Noelle doesn’t let this drag her down forever. I hope that her vibrancy and effervescence and positive energy aren’t marred permanently by the actions of one selfish individual. But it really was the best thing that could have happened. If it went on and on like it had been, then maybe it would set in Noelle the notion that she was only worth as much as he would give her: in time, energy, love…. And she is worth so much more.

And now I’m up far later than I intended, and I have work tomorrow and I’m going to be TIRED along with feeling like crap. At least it’s only another two days until payday (though having no money hasn’t stopped me from spending it). Overtime all this week, plus Saturday. I’m not going to bail on any of it, because I really need the money. The government is going to love me for all the tax they’ll get next week… And for the fact that though I intend on studying very soon I do not intend on quitting my job to do it. And so therefore I’ll still be paying my own way through everything, therefore not asking for any Austudy, therefore no government handouts. I don’t want anything from the government, I could never take something from something/persons that I respect so little. Although I have in the past.

It’s strange, but although there are so many people denouncing the current governing party, they’ve had nothing but wins since I’ve been old enough to vote. How does that happen? I loved that, on Glasshouse the other night, when the American guy said, “You guys get fined if you don’t vote!?” And Dave Hughes said, “Yeah, but you guys get George Bush.” Yeah, but then we get a weedy little idiot who copies George Bush’s every move. So we’re in just as deep as the US in everything. And the stores fill up with American goodies, and everyone wears American fashion, and do you even have to make an effort to put on an American accent? And gosh, I’m sorry, are we spelling recognise with a “z” now? (is that pronounced zed or zee? But I’ve never agreed with the Australian pronunciation of that one anyway). When people overseas mistake Australians for Americans, couldn’t that just be an unintentional comment on our current social & political situation?

I don’t want that to sound like I’m being racist. America is like the obnoxious bully kid at school who’s popular but nobody knows why, and Australia is the young impressionable kid desperately seeking approval from someone who looks like they might be established in a complicated hierarchy. So we’ve chosen our side, and our role model, and though it now occurs that might not have been the best decision, how embarrassing would it be for us to now change our minds! No one seems to want to anyway. What a rort that was – WMD. And the fact that everyone knows the acronym (I guess Team America helped with that)… What a joke. How anyone could think it wasn’t about the oil… The world is bought and sold a million times over and the most important person is always the one with the biggest piece of pie. So I guess now is the time for me to clarify that I mean the United States Government, not the people (because I don’t believe that the election of the Bush Administration by majority of the vote was an actual event, that there wasn’t foul play afoot).

Anyway, what can I do about it? Nothing. So what’s the point of me ranting about it? Best answer being there is no point, but if ever anything I did had a point I’d be highly surprised. Could someone get me a ladder so I can get down off this high horse?

The grapes taste foul. Sour grapes. haha… End of season grapes are so difficult to choose. Usually you should try not to get the ones that are too yellowy, and are still firm. I thought they were pretty good, but evidently not. Graeme always chose good grapes, and he always shared.

Work today = not too bad. So long as I can get through the day without feeling like I want to jump out the window, that’s a good day. By the way, me saying “jump out the window”, means that I just want to open the window and hop out, and then go somewhere else. Not that I want to defenestrate myself with the end result of a one way ticket to hell. Because we’re not that high up in the building anyway, and I probably wouldn’t do much more damage than I did when I tripped down the stairs today.

I think that my blog sounds slightly flat and depressed. I didn’t feel that way today, I was hyper and laughing most of the day and still managed to get a decent amount of work done. I must have been feeling better because I stayed back and did some overtime, to earn more money to pay off my credit card so that I can do what I want sooner.

What I want = to study.

So, although I may sound like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, I don’t feel THAT bad. It’s just that this is my place to vent and think out loud (well,not out loud exactly, but you get what I mean). And if that’s the only time you hear me, you could be forgiven for thinking I’m always this melancholy. (I don’t know who I’m talking to…)

I had three cups of tea today, and it was the tea that was blamed for me going hyper this afternoon and laughing at things like:

a) the fact that I have a picture of a polar bear on my wall at work that I cut out from a packet of tissues. I don’t remember doing it, but i recognise the picture. And I don’t know why i did. I mean, I like polar bears, but it wouldn’t have driven me to such desperate measures. It’s not like I can’t live without a picture of a polar bear on my wall. It’s not like there’s not enough crap up there already.

b) my desk calendar had been taken apart and put back together upside down, which someone took the time to do, which would have gone unnoticed for quite some time (possibly), and which no one owned up to. So what was the point?

c) the gold stuff that Kirra put on my desk migrated to the internal lift well in front of the door to the internal stair well, and then into the stairwell, and then down the stairs. I’m waiting to see if it makes it out the door of the stairs into the corridor, then out into the big wide world.

d) the email in which I called everyone heathens, then amended to ‘praetorian mercenaries’. You know who you are!

e) the email sent from my desktop, and Kirra’s indignation that I would accuse her of such a crime! For shame!

I’m going to try to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. and I will not drink any more tea tonight. Even though I bought a whole new bag of loose tea today. Yeah, I’m really doing it tough. Home-packed lunches every day. I don’t even want to venture into the city tomorrow, there’s no point. Today I had to because I needed a bus ticket, tea, bread, yoghurt and tuna for lunches. But tomorrow I don’t think there’s any reason i should. And it’s so hot, and then I get back to work hot, and then after about half an hour I’m freezing cold, and I don’t think those sorts of extremes are good.

It’s strange that though I hate the taste of fish, I really love the texture. I can eat tuna from a can, so long as it’s not the home-brand stuff (yes, it does taste different. It’s the fish that john west rejects that makes john west the best duh!), and baked or grilled marinated fish fillets (which is still sometimes too fishy). Smoked salmon has an amazing texture, but I cannot stand the taste.

Anyway, I guess that’s enough for one night. My ankle is killing meeeeee ouchies. Stairwells are treacherous places.

I am waiting (fairly patiently right now) for Lauren to finish whatever it is she’s doing and call out so we can go and explore more of the neighbourhood.

I’m tired, and still a little unwell from today. I was so tired this morning, and feeling dizzy when I stand up after lying down or sitting for extended periods of time. Well good. I’m so tired that all I want to do is sit down, or lie down. And just close my eyes.

I need some water. I wish our house had a water boy. Water boy! Go get me some water!

What is the colour of a mirror? Is it silver? I like the colour of mirrors.

I want to learn German so that I can hack out ten syllables in a row and make it sound like one. Also so that I can remember what it was like, being there and hearing it.

After a week you think I’d be over it. Lauren is over it. Lauren is now at university. If I played that game Sims, then I could make her one of the characters at the universty.

I’m not doing what I want to do. What I’m doing now workwise, career-wise, makes me feel like I’ve caught the wrong train and it’s an express and it’s going somewhere I don’t want to be. Like when Lauren caught an express train to the Gold Coast by accident one day after work.

Lauren just called out. Five more minutes!

A select quote from Noelle this evening:

“Frankfurt is industrial because there, buildings exist.”

I need to tidy my room. Back six days and my room’s a mess. Tomorrow is the one week anniversary of us returning home and I hate the life that existed before that I’ve now got to settle back into. I hate it.

But what can I do? I don’t want to be the person that everyone remembers me as. Don’t get me wrong, I know I haven’t changed that much, and at least not fundamentally, but there are things that are different and I don’t want to fall into playing the role that I played before I left just because other people expect that of me. I know that happens – someone treats you a certain way, and that’s the way you act because that’s the way they treat you. Or people treat you that way because that’s how you act. It’s a circle turning around and around and around and around and never stops unless you jump out and then you might get hurt because it’s going so fast. You might end up somewhere you don’t know where you are, and is it better to know who you are through the way other people act towards you than not knowing who you are at all?

When I came home, and tried to turn certain lights on in the house, I thought, “wow, I’ve been away five weeks and forgotten which switch turns on which light.” but then tonight I realised that I never knew which switch turned on which light, and I’ve always just turned them on until I find the right one. Then again, when we came home I HAD forgotten where the plates were kept, and where the bowls were, and in looking for them I found a cupboard with little bottles of herbs and spices that I never knew were there. So it was a good thing. But that wasn’t my point. I think my point was stupid anyway, so I’ll just forget about it.

Nathan & Lauren said to me today, “When are you going to write a book?”, like it was something that I’d planned on doing but had been neglecting, like washing up or going grocery shopping. And where did this question come from? And the conversation lasted ages, where they were convincing me it was a good idea. It’s not that I don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s just not that easy, and where on earth has this all come from anyway? Because if I had said to Lauren, “When are you going to write a book?”, it would be an odd question. But why is this a normal question for them to ask me?

I love The Strokes. Nathan made me watch a documentary on Punk music today, and I loved it. I love it. So many things I didn’t know. Then I watched some Harvey Birdman, but it’s just not as funny watching it by yourself. We were watching a Tenacious D DVD and the short films on there were just disgusting, like really, really foul. I felt like throwing up watching them. But they were funny, in a shocking kind of way. Shocking funny.

Noelle came home later on, and we had a big conversation about how difficult it is coming back from such a huge, amazing experience and having to fit back into ordinary life. There are some changes that must be made. I can no longer be part of this ordinary life. Not now that I know there is so much more out there. I don’t mean that I am going to run off and join the circus or anything, but I do need to do something to challenge my mind, which I am not really doing at the moment (So why don’t you write a book?) Shhhh! that keeps running through my head! I’m not writing a book. Why do I have to write a book?

Why??? I want an answer for every single question I could ever ask. That would make me feel better. I want to know everything. That’s what I said before I had been fully trained up at work. “I want to know everything, I want to learn everything.” And now? I want to know MORE. I want to know everything about the things that I want to know about, that have nothing to do with work, nothing to do with interest rates and accounts and loan servicing capacity, and loan to value ratios, and products, and corporate dress codes, and meetings, and process changes, and stamp duty, and word and excel and powerpoint and outlook and going forward… and reminders and message flags and importance and allocations and stats and performance reviews… AGH! I’m just NOT INTERESTED!

In Greystones, in Ireland, we were standing in the street when some man burst out of the shop across the road (which was called something ambiguous but we found out later that it was like a TAB) and ran up to us with flushed cheeks and nervous eyes and said, “Could I borrow a euro?”, and we said “Oh no, we’re fresh of the plane, we haven’t converted any, all we have are pound coins.” And he said, “Well I could take a pound coin, I could use that!” And then when Lauren & Noelle were umming and ah-ing about what to say next, I said “What is it for? What do you actually want the money for?” and he said “I’m looking out for a friend.” Which means absolutely nothing, because how on earth could a one pound coin help anyone look out for their friend? And I felt annoyed because he couldn’t be forthright, and still expected us to give him something when he couldn’t even give the truth. That story doesn’t have a point either I guess. It’s like a guy I used to work with once came back from lunch and said that a homeless person outside our building had said to him, “Can I have two dollars for a sandwich?” And he had replied, “well, what kind is it first of all? I want to know if it’s something I like before I buy it off you.”

What am I doing up at 1:30am on a Sunday morning? Well, nothing, obviously. I’m sitting here doing absolutely nothing (certainly not writing a book, in case Nathan & Lauren are still wondering over that). I’m not tired, because I’ve had three cups of tea this afternoon, which is probably the equivalent of shooting myself in the foot as far as getting back on track with our time zone is concerned. Noelle & I are going into the city tomorrow afternoon. She wants to dye the underneath of her hair a black-violet. I want to be who I want to be without worrying about corporate standards. But I’m not going to worry about it any more, because it doesn’t matter. How can I be disaffected when I let myself be affected by everything? I so want to be disaffected. I could wallow in my own apathy, and say “Look, I DON’T CARE about

ANYTHING!!!” That would be so good.

I don’t CARE! (And I’m not writing a book right now).

There was a quote in our French room at high school that said, “How can I know what I think ’til I see what I say?” and what does this mean? And why do I remember it still?

I realised this morning that yesterday morning seemed so hot because I was up later than i usually am, and so was waiting at the bus stop later than i usually am (there was even a school kid there!) so the sun had already had a chance to start baking everything. Today I was up earlier, so at the bus stop earlier (though still not as early as I had intended, because things are generally stupid right now) and so it wasn’t as hot. But then again it’s not a fair comparison, because last night it rained so of course it’s going to be cooler today than it was yesterday. It rained again this morning, but by that time I had already been at work for about an hour and a half. But when I went out at lunch time (I had a lunch hour today! Everything’s all skewiff) it was hot and steamy because the sun had come out again, and sucked up all the water that had been in the footpaths and the grass etc, into the air. I hope that it rains again this afternoon, preferably when I’m walking home, because that would be very appropriate I think.

I just emailed Melinda for a list of contact numbers, and she emailed me back the list, which was from an email that I originally sent out months ago. Derrrr I’m such an idiot!

So I’ve sorted out all my cards now… I think… I’m so flat broke, due to getting a fortnightly pay of only a week’s worth of wages because the last week of my holidays was on LWOP (leave without pay. I don’t understand why the acronym includes the O from without, because it’s not like it’s the start of a word or anything. Is without a composite word? or something else entirely? is racecar a composite word or a palindrome?) And I have to live off my weeks pay for two weeks. These are desperate times, people.

Kirra is away today and I am so lonesome! So lonesome and bored. I listened to my MP3 but it distracted me, because the music is just too good. If I listen to it again I’ll start tapping my pen on the desk and someone will get annoyed no doubt. I’ll bet that Stephen is glad Kirra is away, I know that before I left he was getting annoyed by the noise level coming from our side of the wall. But then apparently I was greatly missed when I was gone – I thought he’d be relieved he didn’t have to listen to us for five weeks. I don’t know why we were put next to each other – anyone could see that this would be an obvious distraction! I can’t form my sentences properly and I’m making no sense, I know. At least I know what I’m talking about, and that’s all that matters isn’t it? Melinda said that we should go down the coast for a weekend for my birthday. That sounds like fuuun.

This is going to sound ridiculous, but it’s cold in here. I am cold, and wishing that I had a jacket or long-sleeved something or other. How quickly i have become used to this horrible weather . I want to move to Greenland and live like an eskimo, except for the part where you have to eat fish all the time. And also I heard a story about an eskimo baby that was born while they were out somewhere away from their camp, and so to keep the baby warm enough they killed a polar bear, cut it’s stomach open, and put the baby inside. Sometimes when I hear the word “eskimo”, I think, “they could be saying Esk Emo”. I don’t know too much about the people that live there, but it doesn’t seem like the type of community that would spawn anything even resembling an emo. (The Esk that I am referring to here is the one in Queensland). I don’t think I’ve ever been there. Once we went for a drive up to Wivenhoe Dam, and then through Crows Nest Shire (I think that’s what it’s called) and Wivenhoe was brown and everything was dead. there was this hard grass that felt like jagged rocks, and magpies everywhere. Then, when we got further up into the hills above the dam, gradually the countryside became greener. And then we discovered this little retreat hidden away in the hills. It was so beautiful up there. The air was cool and clear, the grass and trees were lush and green… the owners had built houses that you could rent for a weekend or longer. It hadn’t been there long (things were still being finished) but already they were totally booked out for the holiday season. I had never seen it advertised anywhere (still haven’t).

We had coffee on the balcony in the sun, looking out over valleys with green green grass and trees and lakes. Then we drove back home, and the further down we went, the duller everything became. Brown and grey and boring and sad.

I am overwhelmed. By being back at work and ordinary life and everything. Ordinary life is horrible.

I hate being back at work I don’t know how to deal with it. I hate the bus for being so hot. I hate work for being so hot. I hate the air conditioning for deciding to take the day off. Where are you when I need you most? Never here! (I’m seeing a pattern here. I should send a letter to the association of air-conditioners and tell them that they are wearing me down, slowly but surely, and soon i will be nothing but dust and then I’ll float away on a gentle breeze.)

Plus this was like the Worst Valentines Day everrrr (said like comic-book-story-guy). I am so depressed right now. I hate work… and everything.
No, mum, i don’t want some sparkling shiraz or bad red wine. And I can’t stop pacing the living room.

I need to get out of here.

I can hear the violins right now. (the tiniest violin playing the saddest song just for you!)

Thanks violin, i feel much better.

Aside from the part where Noelle made a video of it, dancing is a good way to stay warm. Also, it makes you look happy. Even if you don’t feel happy perhaps… but if you’re not happy then why are you dancing? To stay warm. Oh. Well that makes sense. Maybe if you keep it up long enough you’ll feel happy, because I know that I have heard a lot of people say that you have to fake it til you make it. I’m not sure I like that sentence, because it uses an abbreviated form of “until”, which is a short enough word already. If you’ve got the time to say one syllable, you’ve got the time for two. That’s just lazy.

Anyway. Pick up Rosie at 3. Righto.

Rosie wanted me to eat a blueberry, but I said they were too sour. So she brought me one with icing sugar on it, except that it turned out to be flour and she ran from the room laughing. Only to return again with the actual packet of icing sugar this time, plus the blackberries and the blueberries. I don’t want to eat them though, because they’re sour. Now she has gone, the icing sugar on the carpet the only evidence she had ever been. (Does that sound like an ode to a lost soul?) She’s in the kitchen now, baking muffins. I have already done mine. Now I’ll have to make the icing and decorate them. “But muffins don’t have icing!” i hear you cry. Well, dry your eyes, because these ones do in honour of good ol’ Saint Valentine, who defied the church by performing marriages when no marriages were allowed. It’s a bit of a dubious holiday though, because the only reason everyone was so upset about not being able to get married was because of the rule of no sex before marriage, so therefore, the only reason they were so eager for holy matrimony was so they could get right down to consummating the marriage.

So…. maybe we shouldn’t glorify something that’s just about scratching an itch.

Because, in a few hundred years time, will there be a “Hugh Hefner Day”, dedicated to the man who helped keep soldiers of the 20th and 21st century minds’ on the job, through products designed to provide relief where they might otherwise have to resort to Victoria’s Secret catalogues, thus helping keep civilians safe, thus ensuring the ongoing existence of the free world?

I’ve probably strung a fairly long bow on that one. But whatever.

I feel very tired. It could be to do with the fact that it’s 11:30pm in London right now, and I might still be stuck on GMT, or the fact that I didn’t get to sleep until 1am this morning and was woken again at 6am by mum yelling at Rosie, and again at 7am by Lauren searching my room for something that she’s hoping I didn’t throw out when I cleaned up all the stuff from the dining room last night… not sure. So nice to be home.

I miss the cold It’s so hot here. I just went into the kitchen to get a drink, and thought “It’s nice and cool inside the house”. And thinking that, in 29 degree heat (hey, it could be worse…) makes me realise that after only a day I am again used to Aus. That seems slightly sad, because aren’t you supposed to appreciate home after being away for so long and missing out on the things that you took for granted? I thought for sure that as soon as I got the chance I’d be outside in the sunshine soaking it up. But now, it just looks too hot. And is too hot. And I’d probably get a melanoma or something.

I don’t want to forget what snow is like!

Berlin is cold. I was right right right right right! Actually, it wasn me that was right, it was the weather people. Good on you weather people! I am in the foyer and every time someone opens the door i get hit with this icy blast of freezing cold air. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… But I am sitting right next to a radiator so i should be fine.

We went to a pub tonight, and I had two Radlers, and there was a man across from us at another table who looked like he was trying to be Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean. He was funny. Sometimes Id forget that we’re in another country, because we are all just sitting around the table drinking, and then all of a sudden i hear a conversation from the next table and it’s in German and I remember.

We saw Checkpoint Charlie today, but no one is really sure what checkpoint charlie is. There are some awesome hats for sale on street stalls around checkpoint charlie. I want a white one, or a black one. But then Simone said she thinks they’re real fur, so of course I cannot support that sort of goings-on. They also sell real pins from the communist regime, and belt buckles and jackets and things. I didn’t get the chance to get to a bank today. We went into Deutsche Bank, which is really strange because it’s like a bank, and a store, and not like a bank at all, and they said i couldn’t get money out there. But hopefully i can find a bank that lets me withdraw on VISA tomorrow.

When we touched down at the airport today, we had to wait in line for so long to get our passports stamped, whereas all the EU nationals got to just go straight through. Noelle’s passport got looked at through the little eye magnifying thingy. All very exciting. Mine got the once-over and then a stamp. Danke Schon!

Anyway, i am very tired again. i really need some more sleep. Mmmmm Sleep. I guess I should go do that.

Nighto!