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Jun. 12th, 2006 @ 12:29 am Some Pictures of Dexter

Dexter being squirmy



Dexter eating



Dexter lounging on his CD stack


If any animal has a heaven, it's a rat heaven. I'll miss them both.
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Jun. 12th, 2006 @ 12:14 am Dexter Died Today
Well, that's that, I guess.

Dexter, my other rat, died earlier today - he couldn't move, eat, or drink, so we reluctantly took him to the vet to get him put down. We didn't want to watch him wither away, and he was so lonely without Splinter, now he doesn't have to suffer any more. Poor little bloke.

I'm now ratless. We should be moving into an apartment that allows pets within two years, but until then I won't have any pets except for my batty old dog, who isn't really mine anyway.

Everything's been dying lately. It's been a really shitty week.
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Jun. 7th, 2006 @ 02:07 pm Some Rat Pictures








RIP, little brown dude.
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Jun. 7th, 2006 @ 01:47 pm Splinter died.
Splinter died the day before yesterday.

He got an abscess that turned into a hernia that suddenly went necrotic, so Mum took him to the vet and got him put down. I wasn't even there when it happened because I don't live with them anymore. She even buried him without me. She told me he was in quite a bit of pain but was still happy to be cuddled, so they gassed him in Mum's arms and apparently he didn't feel anything at all.

I feel so guilty, because it's like I abandoned the little guy months ago. We're not allowed pets in the apartment where I live so I had to make do with going back once a week to spend a few hours with him. It was so difficult though, because my parents live so far away and it takes so long to get there, so I always had to dedicate one day solely to getting there, spending time there, then coming home.
But now it's too late and I'll never see him again. Poor little Dexter, my brother's rat, suddenly got very old around the same time that Splinter died, and it looks like he's given up on life without his brother to keep him company. He doesn't even move any more except to eat and drink. He seems so lonely, and I don't blame him. Neither of them got taken out for more than an hour a day when I left, as opposed to the 6+ hours I had them out every weeknight while I was playing video games, surfing the internet, watching TV, doing homework, drawing, etc. That's not to say they weren't taken care of, I wouldn't have left them at all if I thought they'd be neglected, but there's more to a rat's life than having a clean cage and fresh food and water.

One thing's for certain, I'm never doing that to a pet ever again. I'll never just move away and only see them once a week, when I move to an apartment that allows pets, I'm keeping them (whatever species they are) near me for their whole lives, no matter the cost. It's just not fair to them and what I did is making me feel like shit.
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May. 31st, 2006 @ 03:28 am Weekend
I went to Lorne on the weekend.

Me, my mate Sean, Sean's girlfriend Steph, and Maddie all drove up on Saturday morning with 4 grams of weed and lots of money for buckets of alcohol. We stayed in a camping ground that was opposite a supermarket, so we had easy access to munchies and dinner. The bad thing was, there actually wasn't much to do past about 8 o'clock at night, since all the shops closed and it was raining most of the time.
Saturday night I smoked the most weed in one go I have ever smoked in my entire life. It was more than a gram, and I was pretty paralysed for at least three hours afterwards. The high didn't last as long as I thought it would, though... I think I'm building up a tolerance to it, although the effects of getting baked two nights in a row are still being felt, as I'm still having trouble writing coherently and eevin moor trubbl spelin wurds rite.

Sunday night I didn't get so stoned, and as a result I was lucid enough to hold conversations that lasted more than 10 seconds. We stayed up and ate SHITLOADS of food, including potato burgers, instant lasagne, ice cream, and all manner of other unhealthy artery-clogging delights. Maddie got totally trashed, and was bossing everyone around in a slurred voice which weirded Sean out a little bit, especially when she started commanding people to feel certain things: "You're eating the ice cream. It's yummy ice cream." "You're warm. It's nice and warm." "You're feeling sleepy now." etc. Later on Sean put on the Magic Stoner Hat and made my life miserable by tripping me out for a good chunk of the evening (bastard). And Steph just chainsmoked the entire time inbetween swigs of some kind of colourful sugary cocktail thing. I swear that girl will have lung cancer by the time she hits thirty.

A damn good weekend if I may say so. Now all I need to do is wait out the aftereffects of the stonedness, and when I can spell without concentrating again I'll be in the clear. Although I have got a big bag of chopped weed that's just begging to be smoked. But no, I'll wait until after the exams, like a good little boy.
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May. 14th, 2006 @ 02:12 am O Superman
So I'm sitting up late at night, trying to think of excuses not to do my overdue essay, and I hear this really weird song on Rage. I didn't catch all the lyrics, but they're haunting and evocative - maybe one of the only examples of a song in which I liked the lyrics but not the music all that much. Not quite sure what it means... I'd hazard a guess that it's about Jingoism and wilful blindness in the face of the propaganda-peddling state.
Anyway, here it is.

O Superman - Laurie Anderson

O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
Hi. I'm not home right now. But if you want to leave a
message, just start talking at the sound of the tone.
Hello? This is your Mother. Are you there? Are you
coming home?
Hello? Is anybody home? Well, you don't know me,
but I know you.
And I've got a message to give to you.
Here come the planes.
So you better get ready. Ready to go. You can come
as you are, but pay as you go. Pay as you go.

And I said: OK. Who is this really? And the voice said:
This is the hand, the hand that takes. This is the
hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
Here come the planes.
They're American planes. Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?
And the voice said: Neither snow nor rain nor gloom
of night shall stay these couriers from the swift
completion of their appointed rounds.

'Cause when love is gone, there's always justice.
And when justive is gone, there's always force.
And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi Mom!

So hold me, Mom, in your long arms. So hold me,
Mom, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms. Your electronic arms.
In your arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms. Your military arms.
In your electronic arms.
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Apr. 30th, 2006 @ 09:39 pm Sick sick sick
I've been pretty much bedridden for the last six weeks now.

I've forgotten what it feels like to be well, and I don't think I'll be getting better any time soon, at this rate. Every time I think I'm sloughing off the disease, it just comes right back and hits me in the face again. Currently I can't even swallow because it makes my ears and throat hurt. I'd be angry at the sick, but I just can't seem to work up the energy.
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Apr. 19th, 2006 @ 03:58 am Contribution to the AN Book
This is my contribution to the Atheist Network Anthology Book. I thought I'd post it here in case it gets rejected, or something... At least I'll have a record of it, because I think it's pretty good for a first attempt.

I'm an atheist, but one who's got a dilemma - I'm torn between wanting to believe in something to escape from the horrible, cold, impersonal truth, or believing in nothing but reality because that's what's logical and, well, real. It all started at my old Gran's funeral, where afterwards I was told some of the details of the days before she died. She was ready to die, and she even wanted to, in a strange way, being very infirm, very lonely, and totally bedridden.
My Grandpa had died over 15 years before, and a part of her seemed to have died with him. She was never the same, and would frequently talk about him fondly, painting him in such a loving and biased light that you would be convinced the man was a saint. Throughout that time, she was convinced that she would be able to see him again when she died, and I suppose that's what kept her going and gave her some semblance of a will to live. However, she wasn't a religious woman, and didn't swallow any of the dogmas or various crapola that organised religions would have people accept without question. I don't even think she thought about it very much - she simply fervently believed that she would meet her late husband again in whatever afterlife might exist.
Her death scared me, because I don't - or can't - believe in anything like that. My brain simply can't accept anything that can't be proven without a shadow of a doubt, I dismiss accounts of psychics, UFO's, and supernatural phenomena as the wishful thinking of people who want there to be something more than this boring little world of ours. The thing is, I find that weirdly preferable to the knowledge that death is the end - not because I'm scared of my own death, but because I'm terrified of experiencing the deaths of my loved ones. The thought that I could marry someone, live with them for 40 or 50 years and then have them die before me... To be brutally and colloquially frank, it scares the shit out of me.
I don't know which is preferable, to live my life in ignorance or outright lying to myself, or being in constant fear that someone I love more than life itself will leave me and I will never see them again. Never.
The terrible thing is, I can't lie to myself. I can't just believe in something that has no reason to exist. Do animals have an afterlife? Of course not. Do plants? How ridiculous. Then what seperates humans from animals, other than hightened intelligence? We're all made of the same stuff, what gives our stuff an afterlife while their stuff doesn't? The answer? Nothing. We fool ourselves into believing that we're somehow special, that we're the universe's chosen, that death isn't the end (because then what would be the point of life?), as dwelling on the alternative can be crushing.

In every other way, I'm a strong atheist, I see organised religion as nothing more than the product of primative, fearful, stone-age minds who dreamed up big scary gods who could do anything they wanted and knew everything.
The Abramic god, to my mind, is no different than the Mayan god Quetzalcoatl, they're both bloodthirsty, power hungry megalomaniacs who toy with the lives of their creations without guilt or remorse. The new-age, touchy feely christian god holds no water with me, because under the surface he's still like Quetzalcoatl, he still demanded a blood sacrifice to appease him (Jesus, the crucifixion) and save his creations from a fiery eternity. The Muslim god Allah is no less reprehensible, though perhaps the Koran is more honest about his bloodthirstiness than the Christian bible, not seeming to veil it in so many false delarations of love and mercifulness (as if sending someone to eternal hell for not believing in you was loving and merciful).
Deep down though, all religions read more or less the same: "It's okay, you don't have to worry about dying because if you follow [insert name here] you'll have eternal life in paradise/heaven/valhalla/whatever. If you don't follow [insert name here] though, it'll go very badly for you because you'll go to hell/reincarnate into a worm/spend forever in limbo."
But aside from the conflict and violence initiated, not to mention the judgemental mentality created by the plethora of silly messages, is it really so bad to tell people that their souls will live on after they die? Maybe some people need to hear that yes, their lives are crap now, but something better is waiting for them after they die. Yes, you can see your husband again after you die. No, you don't have to be scared of death.

Perhaps one day there'll be a world religion that isn't judgemental and preachy, that doesn't encourage people to kill other people, doesn't require people who do believe it to impose it on people who don't believe it, and that doesn't require people to believe in anything more than their own potential to outlive their material bodies - but it doesn't claim to know anything beyond that.





Yeah, I couldn't end it very well. Maybe someone will give me a hand with that, as I'm never really very good at concluding things like this.
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Apr. 6th, 2006 @ 04:36 pm Sick sick sick. I'm sick of being sick.
I'm ill. Like, really really ill. I think I've got chronic glandular fever or something, I crawled to the doctor a couple of days ago and the tests (arm stabbings and throat scrapings) are inconclusive - but my throat glands are the size of tennis balls and I wake up every morning feeling like I've been stomped on enthusiastically the whole night by six very large Samoan men.

I'm being looked after 24/7 by the greatest nurse in the whole wide world, who feeds me and makes sure I take my medicine on time and bathes my brow and tucks me in at night (and then snuggles up to me to keep me warm). God knows what state I'd be in without her, I'd probably have wasted away long ago. She told me she felt helpless because she doesn't know what to do to make me better, but she's doing just fine. More than fine, in fact. Super-duper. My only worry is that she'll catch what I'm currently suffering from, but she seems to be totally impenetrable to any kind of infection. It's like she's got tiny turret-mounted machine guns all over her skin that are drilling holes in any invading bacteria that dare to come near her. Maybe there could be miniscule revolutionaries sitting in the seats of the turrets shouting war slogans and chewing dried chilli. There'd be a big battle, or not, and then years later white blood cells would be observed wearing fashionable T-shirts with a motif made up of the beret-clad faces of one of the dudes in the turrets. I'll shut up now, because I'm rambling.

In other news, I'm looking for a new job. Yes, I know I said that months ago, but now it's for real. I want to work somewhere really geeky like a comic shop or a games shop or a hobby shop, because those places always have a really informal friendly environment, and the boss is always a jolly fat guy with long hair and a goatee who still lives at home and who likes to read Vampirella and 2000 AD.
I'm sick of working in the mass-produced retail environment. Customers start seeming like mindless hordes of consumer cattle, plodding through the store and asking their stupid unobservant questions. I'd rather be selling geeky things to geeks than boring office things to stuffy middle-aged businessmen and airhead suburban soccer mums.
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Mar. 14th, 2006 @ 03:48 pm (no subject)
Well, I'm in my third week of university now and I still haven't done any real work. I seriously have to think about knuckling down now, since there's a lot at stake where there was previously just boredom. I've got a reason to pass - I gotta get a decent job so I can pay for a good apartment reasonably near to where we're currently living. The good news is I'm actually doing subjects that are marginally more interesting than the ones I was doing last year, so my brain isn't leaking out of my ears quite as much as it was 12 months ago.

We still haven't got internet, and without it's constant comforting stream of useless information I can feel myself reverting back to the simian state of my distant troglogdyte ancestors.

rats hungry.

rats go eat.

ask his woman* for stuff eat.

rats woman* make food.

food good.

rats go now. hungry.


*previously mentioned Goddess of Food and Bad Xbox Games. All praise be to her pretty face and ample breasts.
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Mar. 3rd, 2006 @ 07:51 pm Short Update
I'm convinced:

I can control time. Specifically the time between 7:08 and 7:25 when I'm doing a closing shift at work. So much time passes between what's supposed to be 17 minutes, I can feel a five-o'clock shadow growing.

In other news, Maddy and I are looking for another place. We're going to furnish it Bohemian style - which more or less means "just stick whatever you think looks pretty in" and THAT usually means stuff that we find in junk or second-hand shops. I want some pot plants and lots of shelves. Possibly a couple of couches, too.
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Feb. 16th, 2006 @ 01:57 pm I'm one paranoid bastard.
Turns out Maddy was just trashed from drinking too much wine on the plane.

Fuck. I'm really embarassed now.
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Feb. 16th, 2006 @ 12:37 pm I just got really freaked out
I just got seriously freaked out.

I sent an SMS to Maddy using an online free SMS service called SMSpup. I can't remember what it said, but it was somewhere along the lines of:
"Are you at home yet? Did Alex meet you at the airport? Plug the phone into the wall so I can call you."

I recieved an extremely strange reply that went like this, word for word:

Free SMS by
SMSpup.com: u
cheapsk8 im not
hom atm im @
airpot LX did not
met me bags lost
fuk guy try pick
me up stupid ask
if tedi got tickit
lameo

What the FUCK was that? Looking at it now, it's obvious it was sent using the SMSpup server and not from an actual mobile phone, but I didn't know that yet. I sent back a message saying:
"Wow, that's probably the most incoherent SMS you've ever sent me. How about telling me in english this time?"

I recieved this in reply:
Free SMS by
SMSpup.com: whut
u tok abt im
understood tis
not englis wut is
u wan clean home
it need clean i go
find LX go pub
drink up

This is obviously not Maddy. She's never sent me an SMS with even one word spelled wrong before, and she never uses abbreviations like "@" and "8". I don't know WHAT the hell is going on - maybe someone's gotten ahold of her number or her phone and is using it to send me weird SMSes... But then, what would be the point of that? Maybe it IS Maddy, and she's either extremely overtired or is having a little joke with me. But why would each message be headed with "Free SMS by SMSpup.com:"?

I'm really freaked out now, and I've tried to call both Maddy's phones and all I get is the Messagebank. I've tried calling Alex too, but she's not picking up. Why oh why oh WHY couldn't I have just gotten up on time and gone to the court case instead of fucking around with stalkers on a free SMS site?
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Feb. 16th, 2006 @ 10:10 am AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!


I AM JUST ABOUT THE STUPIDEST FUCKING IDIOT IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!

I overslept. Yep, folks, my alarm clock reset itself because of some power surge in the night, and I didn't have a backup alarm because I switched my goddamn phone off. I woke up at 9:30am, and immediately thought "Oh shit."

I rang him up and told him what happened, and he told me it was all cool - they had been wondering what had happened to me, but two other friends were with him so he'd be okay for character witnesses. FUCK!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!


Now I'm here feeling FRUSTRATED because I'm sitting at home and after ALL THAT DRAMA I didn't even get to GO.

I want to ring Maddy up. She's back in Australia now, so maybe she'll be able to reassure me that I'm not just a useless fucking idiot.
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Feb. 16th, 2006 @ 12:02 am Can't wait for Saturday
I don't know what I'm still doing on the computer.

I have to be up at 6:00 tomorrow pending my early departure from the house, transported by my friend Johnny's car. The reason for this swift exodus is previously stated: We have to be bright and early for my mate's court case. I'm not so mad at him now - he apologised for making me choose between Maddy and him, and told me that I should go to the airport to pick her up. I told him that it was okay, this kind of thing is what mates are for - He may be scatterbrained and unreliable, but he's a really good bloke and I wouldn't swap him for the world.
Besides, Maddy would be uber-pissed off with me if I arrived at the airport when I was supposed to be in court with him. My Maddy is a big believer in duty.

Speaking of Maddy, I've noticed that she severely underestimates her own ability and intelligence, something which irritates me to no end. She seems to be under the impression that she's good for nothing but motherhood - which just isn't true. There are a multitude of things that she could do for a rewarding career, things like teaching, childcare, editing, journalism, playwriting, etc etc. I want her to realise her full potential before she becomes a mum. That's not to say that she wouldn't make a totally awesome mother - I can't think of anyone better suited to the job of raising children. She's patient, loving, caring, nurturing, she's got a good sense of what's right and wrong, and she respects everyone. Any child with her as a mother would grow up to be a fantastic, engaging, and overall good person.

I'm just saying that motherhood isn't the ONLY thing she's capable of - she's got a wide and varied set of terrific talents that a lot of people would be really jealous of. For instance, she can write like a professional, even though she's had no training and she only does it for a hobby. Her short stories and plays are invariably based around the "love, loss, and reunity" thing chicks go nuts for, but they're flowing and seamless, and her characters are vividly believable.

It's now very early on Thursday morning, and I WANT SATURDAY TO COME. Right NOW. Do you hear me, Saturday? Are you listening, you elusive little bastard? Hurry the fuck up, I'm sick of the other days of the week and I don't want to see Thursday and Friday very much. You think you're special because you're the first day of the weekend? Fuck you! Don't you fucking laugh at me, you obnoxious prick! Grrrr, when I get my hands on you I'll knock you into next week.


----NOTE TO MADDY IF SHE IS READING THIS ----

Sweetie, whatever you do, don't read the post below this one. You're going to anyway, aren't you? Well, don't say I didn't warn you.
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Feb. 15th, 2006 @ 10:52 pm Rant about Christianity and life in general. Maddy, DO NOT READ THIS.
As a critical thinking atheist, a lot of the posts of Maddy's blog were repellant to me - worries about how god didn't want her to be with me, and how she had a god-planned destiny to be with whomever her father chose for her, how her parents kept telling her she shouldn't be with an unbeliever, etc etc etc.

I rebel against this type of thinking for a number of reasons - first and foremost because christians in authority will use god to support their own views on whatever subject you care to think of. You can bet that if a christian leader holds a view on something, god will be on their side, no matter what they're arguing for or against. I sometimes hate her father (even though I've never met the guy) for stuffing all of this manipulative bullshit into her head. I don't know whether he thinks he's doing the right thing or not, but Maddy thinks he thinks he's doing the right thing, and that's all that matters.

I get disturbed when I read about how she thinks god is giving her signs to do stuff - she's so convinced that because her fanatical father says something is wrong, that makes it wrong. He wants her to be with someone whom he approves of, so that means that god magically thinks the same way.

Bullshit.

If god did exist, then it wouldn't matter how many arrogant, judgemental people thought what we had was wrong - her parents, her sister, her church, a thousand million fucking people - God would still be totally cool with it because love is never wrong. The world needs less people trying to impose their contrary will on others, and more people who are content to live and let live.
Instead of: "No no NO, you can't be with him because he's a SINNER and an UNBELIEVER and he's WHITE and it says in the BIBLE that it's WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!"
How about: "Oh, you love him that much, huh? Well, okay. Love like that can't be wrong, I guess."

Why the fuck would god have invented something beautiful and healing and gentle like love if he was just going to let arrogant control freaks tear it to shreds and smash their fists all over it, imposing their selfish will over the top of it? Why on earth would any sane, competent god be on the side of someone who wanted to destroy love rather than let it be? Why would He put a sweet, gentle, warm, kind person like my girlfriend through the heart-wrenching decision of "Godly Parents" vs "Godless Boyfriend"?

And why the FUCK would the divine creator of everything imaginable be intensely interested in pulling apart the private lives of two perfectly nice people, anyway?

She writes a lot about being forced to socialise with her father's business associates. To me, a casual observer, it looks like he uses her as an accessory, parading her around in front of people he wants to impress in order to show how much of a family man he is. He needs her to do what he wants in order to preserve his reputation, rather than having any real desire to see her happy. He'd rather her marry someone she doesn't love and be under his watchful eye for the rest of her life, rather than marry someone she really DOES love and have no control over her. I listen to her tell me about how he yells at her for getting A's instead of A+'s, how he's away for most of the year, how he scared all of her friends away so nobody wanted to stay at her house when she was little. He wants to cosset her like a pet, keep her in a glass tank so she can never feel or experience real life. It disgusts me. It makes me furious, but it's the kind of powerless, impotent fury of a person who knows very well what's going to happen and who cannot change it.

When she finishes university here, she's going to put up a token effort and tell him that she loves me and that she's not coming home. Then he's going to fly over here and bully her into submission using a combination of shouting at her and threatening her with divine retribution - until she does exactly what he commands her to do... And then she's going to leave me here forever. She's going to go back to Malaysia and marry some rich little prick whom she hardly knows, and she's going to be unsatisfied and unhappy for the rest of her goddamn life because she missed out on something irreplacable. All because of him. All because his fragile business empire wouldn't survive if it looked like he couldn't control his own daughter. Jesus fucking Christ, Hollywood would shell out megabucks for a screenplay of this shit.

I'm not pretending, either. It would be fucking difficult for a few years if she stayed with me. We'd have major money problems, a small, dirty little house in a shitty area, crap work hours, a non-existant social life, and nobody to help us out. But it would get better. And eventually we'd have a nice house, good jobs, a stable income, and a life that we made for ourselves, by ourselves. What an accomplishment that would be! How satisfying, to be able to look at your partner, and then at your nice house and nice job and say "we did that by ourselves! We're so smart!"

Sigh. I don't know. I don't even know if I deserve her - but I know that I deserve her a hell of a lot more than whichever rich little Jesus-boy her father picks out for her (who will probably concidentally be the son of one of his close business partners).

I don't know what I should do anymore. I can't let her go - that's unthinkable. But if I stay with her she'll just get even more scarred when her father rips her away from me - maybe even permanently so. I hate being a stupid nineteen year old whom nobody listens to. I don't even have my fucking driver's licence because I've got nobody to teach me. What possible difference can I make against a millionaire business mogul/preacher who controls thousands of people?

-------Contd.----------

Christians say that atheists are the ones without morals, but looking at their deplorable holy book, I'd say the opposite is true.

At a glance, the Christian Bible:

* Condones slavery, in fact it even has rules regarding how you're supposed to beat your slave,
* Condones rape, even has rules outlining how a rapist can buy his victim from her father,
* Has no problem with incest (quite a few biblical marriages are incestuous),
* Condones child killing (the children who mocked Elisha were torn apart by a bear sent by God)
* Condones mass genocide (the great flood).

And apparently I should be put to a horrible death for putting evil anti-Christian ideas into her head:
"If thy brother, the son of thy mother, or thy son, or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is as thine own soul, entice thee secretly, saying, Let us go and serve other gods, which thou hast not known, thou, nor thy fathers; Namely, of the gods of the people which are round about you ... Thou shalt not consent unto him, nor hearken unto him; neither shall thine eye pity him, neither shalt thou spare, neither shalt thou conceal him: But thou shalt surely kill him; thine hand shall be first upon him to put him to death, and afterwards the hand of all the people. And thou shalt stone him with stones, that he die." - Deuteronomy.13:6-10

About the only Biblical quote that I put any stock in is this one:
Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them. - Matthew 7:12, Luke 6:31

But why is it that the good quotes are the ones most Christians don't follow?

----------A note to Maddy----------------

I told you not to read this. I hope you're not too angry at me for thinking this way - I just had to get it out somehow. What I think might not be accurate or informed or correct, but it's based on information that I got from you, so I'm sorry if I've developed any premature assumptions. I'm sure your family are very nice - I just tend to hear about the bad side of them, that's all.
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Feb. 15th, 2006 @ 10:16 pm I recieved an Email this morning...
I recieved an Email this morning from my woman.

For some reason, out of the blue, she's decided to give me the address to her "Secret Blog". This blog is hidden from everyone but the people who are chosen to view it, which before me was nobody. I don't think she was ever planning to let anyone read the blog, but for reasons only she knows, she gave it to me this morning.
In it, she's got nearly three whole months of writing almost exclusively about me and how much she loves me and doesn't want to lose me. That's almost three whole months of sleepless nights, wringing hands, constant thoughts about me, walking around on cloud 9, the whole shebang. I was like "is she talking about me? Nah, she couldn't be... Is she? Holy shit, she's talking about me! She's talking about ME!" I tell you, everyone should read something like that at least once in their lives. I didn't actually comprehend how important I was to this woman before I read these entries... Deep down I always believed that I had somehow tricked her into staying with me, or something. Wow. This blog blew away all of that shit. She loves me.
God DAMN that feels good to say that.

She's got a lot of issues that she needs to resolve, but I think maybe her sending me the address of this blog is her little way of communicating with me, of telling me the problem and letting me help with it. She always was better at communicating via the written word rather than by speech.
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Feb. 13th, 2006 @ 03:25 pm Four more days...
There's four more days to go until I get to spend a weekend with the most beautiful woman in the world. FOUR MORE DAYS!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!!?!? FOUR MORE DAYS!!! How the fuck am I going to last another four days - I can't last another four HOURS, let alone days.

Argh... Waiting sucks.
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Feb. 9th, 2006 @ 07:13 pm Rather annoyed
I'm pretty pissed off at the moment.

I wanted to go and meet Maddy at the airport next thursday, take her home, and maybe grab a few hours of sleep with her before I had to go to work. Instead, I have to go to my mate's court case because he stole a licence plate and got caught with it still on his car.
I warned him about it too, I told him if he was going to fuck around with licence plates he'd better get rid of them as soon as he'd finished with them - but noooooooo, he's gotta get wasted afterwards and completely forget about them, parking his car in the street outside his house. Next thing we know he's got a fucking summons, but he didn't tell me what date it was on until last fucking week - when I've already made plans to meet my girlfriend at the airport.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? I KNEW this shit would happen one day - the classic mates vs girlfriend fiasco... But like THIS? This is fucked. I mean, I HAVE to go to the court case, Maddy understands, she's cool with it and she hid her disappointment, but I feel so guilty about telling her I'd do something and then just dogging her because of my stupid mate. She didn't do anything wrong, he did. This is all his fault. But you've got to jump in for a mate, otherwise what kind of person would you be?

It would have been better if he'd told me when it was EARLIER than this, so we didn't feel so disrupted. But then, that's the way he is. Now I've got to find some way of getting all the way to Frankston, and then to the courthouse there BEFORE 10am on thursday morning. And since it'll go all day, I have to find someone to take my shift at work as well. I mean, I've already asked for 3 days off to be with Maddy - this is REALLY pushing it. Fuck it though, I'm thinking about quitting and doing something else, as I hate my job.
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Feb. 2nd, 2006 @ 09:05 pm Absinth is not good for you
I got dangerously wasted last night.

I drank a six-pack of wild turkey, had about 4 or 5 cones (yes, I know, I was supposed to have quit - call it a moment of weakness... or four or five moments of weakness), and then when I was on the wrong side of the drunkness and stonedness wall, I got offered a small amount of absinthe.

Now, for those of you who don't know what absinthe is, it's a highly potent spirit made from wormwood. It's 160 proof - 80% alcohol - and it will strip the mucous membrane from your tongue and throat and then enthusiastically kick you in the liver and kidneys with it's large steel-capped workboots.
One sip of that paint-stripper after the mix of weed and turkeys, and I was knocked flat on my arse. I started seeing spirals of white and yellow behind my eyes, and my limbs felt as if they had been nailed to the floor. Then, my mattress slowly turned upside-down and became part of the ceiling. It was great! I spent the night looking at the white floor far below, and wondering why there was a light sticking out of the middle of it.

That's probably the last chance I'm going to have to get wasted for quite a while, so I enjoyed every second of it. There's something about the panic of knowing you're not going to have much time for anything in a few weeks that galvanises you into finding ways to get drunk and stoned as often as you can. Honestly, the small amount of time I'm not going to be studying or working I want to spend with Maddy. Every single moment is important, and I don't want to throw away my spare time getting smashed when I could be doing stuff with her.
She gets worried sometimes because she thinks I don't spend enough time with my friends, but it's got nothing to do with her. All they want to do is get drug-fucked all the time, and these days I'm hardly ever in the mood for that kind of shit. If I go out with them, I'll end up smoking, drinking, or popping something I shouldn't, doing something really stupid, and then regretting it the next day.

On a more exciting note, Maddy comes home in 15 days!!! Exciting exciting exciting! I have to get up early to meet her at the airport on the 16th, spend the morning with her, and then go to work in the afternoon. Then on the 18th we're going to get a hotel room and have us some FUN!!!

"I can't friggin' wait" is probably a massive understatement.
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