Very tired. I filled out an application for a place in Enmore which would be great to get, but probably has many applications on it already. Looking at the office-wench I handed it to, who was pathetically dense but didn’t seem to be actually mentally impaired (just deprived of that spark of intelligence we call human nature), I doubt that it even made it to the desk of a person qualified to assess it. There’s another inspection lined up for tomorrow - I’ll feel better then. I just can’t wait to have this smelly, privacyless, musak-blasted YHA behind me.

Oh, I also met the supervisor. She’s not going to be a problem - I quite like her. And they’re giving me a desk, a computer and free printing.

’til tomorrow,

Mark

But I promise it won’t suck. Man I hate travel blogs.

Today was Sunday, so I walked from Glebe into the city. It’s fucking hot here and sticky as well. I saw the Sydney Harbour Bridge… it was big and bridgey, but not really that big. The Opera House just raised my anger at how Australians want to make all public buildings, monuments and lampposts look like ship sails. What a crock. What I did like was the Botanic Gardens, though, and Glebe is okay, everything looks grungy and dirty (including the people) but you can tell it’s just a facade hiding vast amounts of money.

The dorm smells pretty bad, but in this weather it’s probably half my fault. I need a place of my own to live.

The move seems pretty immaterial at the moment. - but this time tomorrow I may have a different idea. I’m surrounded by cardboard boxes and piles of junk.

Things I’m not taking: ‘hooked on the 70s and 80s’ tape set, Andy Warhol flippy picture cube, cow cushions, waistcoat (but will take bow tie), casio keyboard, smiley face beach ball, candelabra. Things I am taking: fairy lights, plush bunnyrabbit, leather jacket, ear warmer, bass guitar, stapler, pile of new journal articles.

I want the people I read to know that I heart them, and I’ll see them again when bandwidth increases. That means you.

Chris and I started the day early by going to the zoo, because there’s really nothing else to do in South Perth. While the crocodile and the big cats were impressive, I found myself wanting more in the way of bears. All that they had were red pandas and koalas, and neither of those are *real* bears. I also noticed a sign on the otter enclosure saying ‘do not throw coins in the water - they may pose a choking hazard’ but I suspect that the zookeepers are really trying to keep the otters from getting their hands on some money. Because everyone knows they’d spend it on booze and guns if they had the chance.

Down at the foreshore, it was wall-to-wall hicks, idiots and breeders. Still, we managed to get a spot right on the water’s edge and settled in to watch the aeroplanes and helicopters fly past. Morgan rocked up with some beers and we argued about which plane would be better for picking up chicks in, or some crap like that.

The fireworks themselves were kind of fireworkey and bangish, like usual. I wondered why they didn’t have one really huge one right at the end, but this apparently was because they use several of them now at different points in the show. I figure there’s no option left but to go nuclear, just so there can be something bigger to work up to. When they were done, we drove home through South Perth at a snail’s pace. A couple of people walked past carrying a ’souvenir’ plastic traffic barrier.

Look, I have to get this one off my chest. I’ve been diving for seven years and what I’ve found out is, it’s not the exhilarating adventure sport it’s cracked up to be. Not only is it an expensive, dangerous and tiring way to spend your time - it’s also quite boring. I mean, what’s at the bottom of the ocean? Just a bunch of rocks and some sand. Admittedly, you can see some cool shit sometimes, but that’s very rare unless you have a boat to go offshore in. Where I dive, it’s the underwater equivalent of the municipal tip.

The novelty of scuba diving wears off quickly. If you haven’t dived before, you probably think it’s serene and relaxing. In fact, it’s noisy (because of the bubbles when you breathe), it’s akward (because you’re wearing a suit and tank and you can’t move easily) and it’s cold (because the ocean is full of cold water). Another thing I hate about diving is the unholy amount of crap that it requires. If you forget even one bit, you have to drive all the way home to get it, and when you’ve used it you have to wash it all. Then, if anything breaks (or you forget how to use it) you could die or be horribly injured.

Nowadays, we mostly go scuba diving out of obligation and forgetting how much hassle it is. That and you get Chicken Treat afterwards.

Blue-grey is a bit too ‘guy’. I think I will make a burgundy version as well.

I am starting to think I missed a lot not watching Buffy. That show is very fan-worthy, and the reruns have me totally sucked in. What I notice is (I think) it’s filmed on real film and with dim/natural lighting, which makes it look classier than everything else. Also the scriptwriting is far less cheesy that I’d thought. This could be the reason why I feel so disconnected and alienated - everyone else has been watching Buffy, and I have grown up Buffyless.

woe is me / squee squee squee

This morning involved mud, too much sun and being in a canoe. Things like that are okay, to a certain extent. Kat’s exchange student had a tattoo on her forearm: this also will change - but I’m not in love with her.

This spanner sits on my desk, the only tool I am allowing myself to leave with (how it aches).

This meme hijacked from Robert.

1. What’s the total size of music files on your computer?

4 gigabytes. I don’t know when that stopped sounding like heaps.

2. What is the last CD you bought?

Ok, there were two: The Scissor Sisters’ self-titled album (the deleted version) and the Ramones Anthology 2 CD set.

3. What is the last song you listened to before you read this post?

‘Psuedo-Lesbian Girl’ by Jess. The last non blog-related one, however, was ‘Lover I Don’t Have To Love’ by Bright Eyes, which is on download.com if you look for it. That has to be one of the best, if not most accurate, songs about being a musician.

4. Name four songs that you listen to a lot or that mean a lot to you.

Okay…

a) The Breeders - Iris. Everyone loves a bit of lesbian subtext and this song also has novel-writing in it, which is another big turn on.

b) REM - Let Me In. An ode to the departed Kurt, this song is stunning and strangely obscure. Its incredible haze of guitar noise makes traditional recording techniques (of the kind that brought us ‘Nevermind’) sound pathetic and sterile.

c) Nirvana - Sliver. This song taps a deep vein of childhood fear that I almost never think of otherwise. The sense of abandonment, hopelessness and salvation is overpowering. There are also Freudian and religious overtones, if you’re so inclined.

d) Third Eye Blind - Semi-Charmed Kind of Life. This is one my old faves, and can only be mentioned in connection with Marilyn Manson, Jebediah’s first album and the Romeo and Juliet Soundtrack. Good olde times.

5. Which three people are you passing the baton on to and why?

Anyone’s free to carry it on, since I stole it myself. Just leave a note if you please.

aND bY THE wAY: Anyone seeing bugs in this site, please make a note of it in the comments. If you can’t comment, please email me - mark at (this site).net Thanks.

I forgot exactly how detached you can get from reality working at a desk and reading books. My work was causing me trouble - I could not get all the ideas straight and I was going crazy trying to back myself up.

Two odd things helped. The first was (though I hate to admit it) U2… the live version of Where the Streets Have No Name. The stadium rock-ness of this track is totally emancipatory. The second was South Terrace. To remember that the world is still, and always will be, greater than the sum of our cares; that the future cannot be forseen or predicted when there are people involved.

What does it all do? Perhaps, when you know there’s really something at stake, your mind just clears.