Well shit. It' 12:26 in the afternoon and I just woke up.
I was sortof hoping this day wouldn't come. When I was small, I used to look on in disgust at my brother's teenage lifestyle. The drinking, the going out, the incredibly odd food choices and the lingering smell. More than anything I think what repulsed me was the hours he kept. He would go to bed sometime after two - in the morning! - and arise sometime after lunch the next day. For some reason, this was completely unacceptable to my pious ten year old self.
The smell is something I remember vividly. He, and all his things, and all his friends had this vivid smell. It was the smell of apathy. The smell of frequently going unwashed for days at a time. The smell of mess, of disorder, of chaos. The smell of freedom.
When my brother moved out and stopped being a teenager, I never thought I'd come into contact with the smell again.
Today, I woke up around lunch time after going to sleep sometime after two. And I realised...
I now have my own smell.
It's official. I'm a dirty, rotten, teenage dirtbag. Most people enter this phase some time in their early teens, perhaps thirteen or fifteen. But of course of entered it after my eighteenth birthday. I'm somewhat renowned for being late. Late to catch onto trends, late to class, late to get togethers that I organise....
Most of the bands I've recently gotten into were in the height of their fame a few decades ago. Bear in mind that I wasn't even alive a few decades ago.
I'm not sure what it is that makes me so late all the time. Perhaps it's the fact that I generally take too long to do anything. Or maybe the fact that in over eighteen years I still haven't quite grasped the art of time management.
Generally, I catch onto trends after they've gone full circle. They've been discovered, shared, and then disowned by hipsters as "too mainstream", and then disappeared into the abyss of obscurity. After about a decade, they are nostalgically revived, and after another twenty to fifty years they're back in fashion as "vintage" or "retro".
It's usually sometime after the trend has disappeared into the abyss of obscurity that I finally jump on the bandwagon. In fact, more often than not the trend may have been through two or more revivals and again disappeared into obscurity, before I jump onto the bandwagon.
It's safe to say that I'm late when it comes to jumping on bandwagons. I'm late for busses too. Somehow I never miss long distance trains or planes though.
Saturday 19 October 2013
Friday 13 September 2013
La Vie Boheme
Okay so it's been quite a while since I last posted on here. Nine months. I could have had a baby. I didn't. I don't have a womb. Or a girlfriend. Not that I want either.
Anyway, hello! I'm back. An awful lot has happenned over the past nine months and I don't really know where to start. I suppose the beginning?
At some point in the year I had a boyfriend. That all started and ended pretty quickly, actually. I probably shouldn't talk about it too much. He seemed sweet. But alas, that chapter has closed.
In about May I started getting involved in the local theatre. After ushering for a few shows, I heard auditions were being held for another show, "All Shook Up". At the time I was as shy as anything and didn't want to even go to the audition, let alone be in a musical. I was almost certain I couldn't sing, couldn't dance, wasn't the world's greatest actor and certainly didn't want to sing, dance and act in front of anyone I didn't have to. But I went to the audition. I did it. I'm pretty sure I turned up an hour late, even though the audition was held walking distance from my house. I'm always late to things. The epitomy of this would have to have been the time I held a barbacue down at the local beach's foreshores, and turned up 40 minutes late. I was the host. It was my barbacue. Yet I turned up 40 minutes late.
Right, the audition. So I went there and sat there shaking until the Director asked me to sing something for her. The only song I'd prepared was an excerpt of "We three Kings of Orient Are". Everyone was really shocked at how deep my voice was and didn't seem to mind that I'd sung a Christmas Carol in the middle of may.
I got into the show somehow as a member of the ensemble. I kept telling myself that I would have to let them all know that I had to leave the show as the pressure of the HSC was too strong. But I never got around to it, and along came opening night. I was running so high on adrenaline I didn't even have the chance to feel nervous or scared. Between when I auditioned for the show and the show's afterparty, I came to several epiphanies.
Anyone who knows me would be very, very sick of hearing about my "existential crises" or "sudden epiphanies". But I'm going to assume you, whoever you are, have perchanced to visit this blog for reasons dark and unknown, and as such don't mind me blabbing on.
Rehearsals started in May after the cast had been put together. I was shy and terrified of everyone and everything. My hair was auburn, and I had a boyfriend. By the time the show ended, all of that was gone. On opening night, we were all slapping each other's arses and undressing in front of each other backstage. And my hair, well, I'd dyed it black because I was sick of having to keep up the dying process. And the boyfriend, well, he was gone. It was good, in retrospect, that we parted ways. Even though I didn't really like him, I'd forced myself to believe that I did. And somehow it still hurt when it all ended. I guess being rejected isn't nice, regardless of who did the rejecting.
He might have rejected me, and other friends might have walked out or faded away from my life, but in the theatre I found sanctuary. I became eerily close to my theatre family over those few months. At one point I performed a less than sober striptease to some of the girls in the cast to Cher's "Welcome to Burlesque".
Anyway, the theatre became my home. I spent more time with the cast and crew than I did with my own friends and family, which felt like a bad thing. But then I came to the realisation that the theatre is what I love. I love performance. I love it.
It's been very difficult for me not to drop out of year twelve to become a full time vagabond. When I found out that auditions for "RENT" the musical are taking place somewhere in Sydney in October I sent off a flurry of excited emails. But then reality struck, and I realised I wouldn't be able to afford constant trips to and from Sydney, and shouldn't be traversing acrossing the country between HSC exams. And I decided I should stay here in my hometown for the rest of the year as it is my last year living here, and some people I might not see again.
Fuck, I'm going to miss everyone and everything about this town. Well, that's a lie. We have our fair share of bogans here, and much less than our fair share of excitement. But I have met the most beautiful people living here, and made connections I don't want to lose. People here have touched me on a deep level and I'm actually terrified and distraught at the thought of losing this connection. Although we all vow to stay in touch, I know that in reality only a few of us will, and the rest are doomed to drift off into the "I used to know" category.
I am truly going to miss this place. This beautiful town full of gorgeous people. It was where I grew up. It was where I first found myself. I learnt to walk, talk, sing, dance, drive and thrive here. I learnt how to be a person, how to be a friend, how to be a lover and how to embrace everything life offers with both arms. It was here that I had my first kiss, my first love. It was in this town that I discovered who I am. I discovered that I might be anybody, or somebody, and that I wasn't just nobody. I learnt to persevere, to try my hardest and to never give up. I learnt when to stop, when to let go, and when to walk away. And I know that moving to Sydney next year is something I just have to do. But I will forever hold this town and it's people close to my heart.
Anyway, hello! I'm back. An awful lot has happenned over the past nine months and I don't really know where to start. I suppose the beginning?
At some point in the year I had a boyfriend. That all started and ended pretty quickly, actually. I probably shouldn't talk about it too much. He seemed sweet. But alas, that chapter has closed.
In about May I started getting involved in the local theatre. After ushering for a few shows, I heard auditions were being held for another show, "All Shook Up". At the time I was as shy as anything and didn't want to even go to the audition, let alone be in a musical. I was almost certain I couldn't sing, couldn't dance, wasn't the world's greatest actor and certainly didn't want to sing, dance and act in front of anyone I didn't have to. But I went to the audition. I did it. I'm pretty sure I turned up an hour late, even though the audition was held walking distance from my house. I'm always late to things. The epitomy of this would have to have been the time I held a barbacue down at the local beach's foreshores, and turned up 40 minutes late. I was the host. It was my barbacue. Yet I turned up 40 minutes late.
Right, the audition. So I went there and sat there shaking until the Director asked me to sing something for her. The only song I'd prepared was an excerpt of "We three Kings of Orient Are". Everyone was really shocked at how deep my voice was and didn't seem to mind that I'd sung a Christmas Carol in the middle of may.
I got into the show somehow as a member of the ensemble. I kept telling myself that I would have to let them all know that I had to leave the show as the pressure of the HSC was too strong. But I never got around to it, and along came opening night. I was running so high on adrenaline I didn't even have the chance to feel nervous or scared. Between when I auditioned for the show and the show's afterparty, I came to several epiphanies.
Anyone who knows me would be very, very sick of hearing about my "existential crises" or "sudden epiphanies". But I'm going to assume you, whoever you are, have perchanced to visit this blog for reasons dark and unknown, and as such don't mind me blabbing on.
Rehearsals started in May after the cast had been put together. I was shy and terrified of everyone and everything. My hair was auburn, and I had a boyfriend. By the time the show ended, all of that was gone. On opening night, we were all slapping each other's arses and undressing in front of each other backstage. And my hair, well, I'd dyed it black because I was sick of having to keep up the dying process. And the boyfriend, well, he was gone. It was good, in retrospect, that we parted ways. Even though I didn't really like him, I'd forced myself to believe that I did. And somehow it still hurt when it all ended. I guess being rejected isn't nice, regardless of who did the rejecting.
He might have rejected me, and other friends might have walked out or faded away from my life, but in the theatre I found sanctuary. I became eerily close to my theatre family over those few months. At one point I performed a less than sober striptease to some of the girls in the cast to Cher's "Welcome to Burlesque".
Anyway, the theatre became my home. I spent more time with the cast and crew than I did with my own friends and family, which felt like a bad thing. But then I came to the realisation that the theatre is what I love. I love performance. I love it.
It's been very difficult for me not to drop out of year twelve to become a full time vagabond. When I found out that auditions for "RENT" the musical are taking place somewhere in Sydney in October I sent off a flurry of excited emails. But then reality struck, and I realised I wouldn't be able to afford constant trips to and from Sydney, and shouldn't be traversing acrossing the country between HSC exams. And I decided I should stay here in my hometown for the rest of the year as it is my last year living here, and some people I might not see again.
Fuck, I'm going to miss everyone and everything about this town. Well, that's a lie. We have our fair share of bogans here, and much less than our fair share of excitement. But I have met the most beautiful people living here, and made connections I don't want to lose. People here have touched me on a deep level and I'm actually terrified and distraught at the thought of losing this connection. Although we all vow to stay in touch, I know that in reality only a few of us will, and the rest are doomed to drift off into the "I used to know" category.
I am truly going to miss this place. This beautiful town full of gorgeous people. It was where I grew up. It was where I first found myself. I learnt to walk, talk, sing, dance, drive and thrive here. I learnt how to be a person, how to be a friend, how to be a lover and how to embrace everything life offers with both arms. It was here that I had my first kiss, my first love. It was in this town that I discovered who I am. I discovered that I might be anybody, or somebody, and that I wasn't just nobody. I learnt to persevere, to try my hardest and to never give up. I learnt when to stop, when to let go, and when to walk away. And I know that moving to Sydney next year is something I just have to do. But I will forever hold this town and it's people close to my heart.
Friday 4 January 2013
So, it's next year. I'm sure a lot of people have made resolutions. I'm sure a lot of people have looked back at the previous year and given themselves a pat on their back for their achievements.
Let's have a look at what I got up to last year.
I spent most of January wandering around, confused. I'd go from the beach to a friend's house back to the beach again and occassionally back to mine. I would always wear Jeans when my friends dragged me to the beach, to avoid having to swim. This never worked, however, and at one point I was picked up bridal style and thrown into the water. I was not happy.
Sadly, I lost my grandmother in February. I won't make any jokes here because she was a woman who lived and breathed love, the epitamy of sweetness. I remember to this day a comment she made on all the pills she had to take. "I just give myself a shake and all the pills go in where they're meant to go" she'd say, making light of anything she was given. I miss her and regret not getting to know her as well as I could have.
On Valentines Day, I was single. And life was depressing. I wore a singlet over a shirt that day. I think it was that Valentines Day that one of my friends bought me a stuffed toy bear holding a love heart. There was nothing romantic between us, she was just lovely.
I woke up on St Patrick's Day at a friend's house, and slowly headed home with Nell. The next morning, we woke up and made Green Pancakes & Milkshakes to celebrate St Patrick's Day a day late.
In April I think I went to Dubbo. My old dear friend Brodie moved there two years ago and I rarely get to see him. It was lovely. He showed me a terrifying manga animation while I was there, after which I proceeded to scream and jump on top of him. We also went shopping with his now-ex-girlfriend. I learnt all about Dubbo, what life was like for them in Dubbo, and about how a friend of theirs had contracted Herpes. I haven't seen either of them since.
Honestly, my winter was quite a blur. I went to parties and at one point made out with someone, but other than that I don't remember doing much. Other than being depressed. It was in July that I became interested in Sarah Blasko.
In the September holidays, I went on a school trip to Vietnam. It was absolutely astounding. None of us wanted to leave Halong Bay. It was a truly gorgeous place, unlike anything I'd seen before. We went canoeing at one point and saw the most adorable monkeys in existence. The only one in our group that had brought a camera dropped it in the water, so we decided to stay and closely observe the social structure of the monkey's society. They had a habit of jumping out of trees and falling down several atmospheres but remaining fine nonetheless. Much like the way that the Vietnamese had a habit of driving recklessly but managing to avoid nearly all collisions. I honestly think less accidents occur on Vietnamese roads than Australian roads, despite our strict road rules and their lack thereof. Or perhaps they just don't make a fuss when accidents occur. That sounds like a very Vietnamese thing to do.
At some point I became avidly interested in baking. I don't know when or why, but somehow it became a hobby of mine. The number of cookies I made last year is terrifying. I once baked over 100, with mum's help, to sell at a CoastOut stall. They sold really well, but after that, I never wanted to see another cookie again.
I also got into riding to school. I think this was 83% due to the fact that I'd lost my bus pass and I couldn't be bothered putting up with the crap bus drivers gave me when I got on. Sure, having to pay to catch a school bus bothered me, but what bothered me more was how rudely I was treated by the bus company. There is no need for such derision when someone who is clearly a student and has clearly caught the bus almost every day for a year lacks a bus pass. I don't even know why bus passes are necessary. If I'm going from my home to school and back every day, clearly I'm a student. I have never heard of someone pretending to be a student just to hitch a free ride from their house to a school.
In December, I went to see Regina Spektor in Brisbane with my friend Lola. It was beyond words. Her voice she takes me somewhere else. She manages to tell someone else's story so well, again and again. Her songs aren't manufactured to fit a mould - she herself said that something like that each song could fit a different genre. She creates such real characters and real stories, and then puts them into beautiful melodies.
I made a lot of new friends last year. There was a lot of drama, and a lot of good times. A lot of memories you don't expect too, not all of them drunken memories. I have one memory of dancing to Christmas Carols in Brisbane while going mad from the heat.
Let's have a look at what I got up to last year.
I spent most of January wandering around, confused. I'd go from the beach to a friend's house back to the beach again and occassionally back to mine. I would always wear Jeans when my friends dragged me to the beach, to avoid having to swim. This never worked, however, and at one point I was picked up bridal style and thrown into the water. I was not happy.
Sadly, I lost my grandmother in February. I won't make any jokes here because she was a woman who lived and breathed love, the epitamy of sweetness. I remember to this day a comment she made on all the pills she had to take. "I just give myself a shake and all the pills go in where they're meant to go" she'd say, making light of anything she was given. I miss her and regret not getting to know her as well as I could have.
On Valentines Day, I was single. And life was depressing. I wore a singlet over a shirt that day. I think it was that Valentines Day that one of my friends bought me a stuffed toy bear holding a love heart. There was nothing romantic between us, she was just lovely.
I woke up on St Patrick's Day at a friend's house, and slowly headed home with Nell. The next morning, we woke up and made Green Pancakes & Milkshakes to celebrate St Patrick's Day a day late.
In April I think I went to Dubbo. My old dear friend Brodie moved there two years ago and I rarely get to see him. It was lovely. He showed me a terrifying manga animation while I was there, after which I proceeded to scream and jump on top of him. We also went shopping with his now-ex-girlfriend. I learnt all about Dubbo, what life was like for them in Dubbo, and about how a friend of theirs had contracted Herpes. I haven't seen either of them since.
Honestly, my winter was quite a blur. I went to parties and at one point made out with someone, but other than that I don't remember doing much. Other than being depressed. It was in July that I became interested in Sarah Blasko.
In the September holidays, I went on a school trip to Vietnam. It was absolutely astounding. None of us wanted to leave Halong Bay. It was a truly gorgeous place, unlike anything I'd seen before. We went canoeing at one point and saw the most adorable monkeys in existence. The only one in our group that had brought a camera dropped it in the water, so we decided to stay and closely observe the social structure of the monkey's society. They had a habit of jumping out of trees and falling down several atmospheres but remaining fine nonetheless. Much like the way that the Vietnamese had a habit of driving recklessly but managing to avoid nearly all collisions. I honestly think less accidents occur on Vietnamese roads than Australian roads, despite our strict road rules and their lack thereof. Or perhaps they just don't make a fuss when accidents occur. That sounds like a very Vietnamese thing to do.
At some point I became avidly interested in baking. I don't know when or why, but somehow it became a hobby of mine. The number of cookies I made last year is terrifying. I once baked over 100, with mum's help, to sell at a CoastOut stall. They sold really well, but after that, I never wanted to see another cookie again.
I also got into riding to school. I think this was 83% due to the fact that I'd lost my bus pass and I couldn't be bothered putting up with the crap bus drivers gave me when I got on. Sure, having to pay to catch a school bus bothered me, but what bothered me more was how rudely I was treated by the bus company. There is no need for such derision when someone who is clearly a student and has clearly caught the bus almost every day for a year lacks a bus pass. I don't even know why bus passes are necessary. If I'm going from my home to school and back every day, clearly I'm a student. I have never heard of someone pretending to be a student just to hitch a free ride from their house to a school.
In December, I went to see Regina Spektor in Brisbane with my friend Lola. It was beyond words. Her voice she takes me somewhere else. She manages to tell someone else's story so well, again and again. Her songs aren't manufactured to fit a mould - she herself said that something like that each song could fit a different genre. She creates such real characters and real stories, and then puts them into beautiful melodies.
I made a lot of new friends last year. There was a lot of drama, and a lot of good times. A lot of memories you don't expect too, not all of them drunken memories. I have one memory of dancing to Christmas Carols in Brisbane while going mad from the heat.
Brilliant Things
The Band "Shanteya & Jo"
Basically, they're two beautiful souls that come together to make ethereal, organic and poetic music. You can find them here:
https://www.facebook.com/ShanteyaAndJo/info
http://www.triplejunearthed.com/ShanteyaandJo
Pretty Much All Australian Comedians
Denise Scott once described speaking with an Australian accent as going in a "long, flat line"
Judith Lucy once lamented on the absurdity of women's vanity by claiming that one day, she would pick up a magazine and read "now we all no how much men hate lungs"
Kitty Flanagan once told the elderly to "use their old people skills to ward off the gypsies"
They're from Bellingen. Anyone who knows Bello will know what I mean.
They're just so Bellingen.
Basically, they're two beautiful souls that come together to make ethereal, organic and poetic music. You can find them here:
https://www.facebook.com/ShanteyaAndJo/info
http://www.triplejunearthed.com/ShanteyaandJo
Pretty Much All Australian Comedians
Denise Scott once described speaking with an Australian accent as going in a "long, flat line"
Judith Lucy once lamented on the absurdity of women's vanity by claiming that one day, she would pick up a magazine and read "now we all no how much men hate lungs"
Kitty Flanagan once told the elderly to "use their old people skills to ward off the gypsies"
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