Important Announcement: New Blog Alert

I've got commitment issues when it comes to blogs. I can't help it okay? Plus there's something so satisfying about starting over, picking a template and rearranging all the widgets. (I wish my life was as easy to rearrange but alas it seems as if I've botched it real good.) Anyhow I would love it if you all followed me over to the new one. I still may keep this one as an occasional ranty space but most of my posting will be done over there from here on out. Okay? Coolios! Onwards we go.....

http://awaywardwego.blogspot.com.au/

Tumblr Famous

I just got a ton of reblogs on one post.....

And the notifications are still popping up. Does this mean I'm tumblr-famous??

Windmill windmill for the land, is everybody in?

(Source)

There was a recorded version of this and nobody told me. It's like that time I discovered my favourite Norwegian had released another fantabulously tacky Europop single...and I was 2 years late in discovering it. Alexander Rybak, don't ever change. You are perfect just the way you are.  

So I broke my streak of blogging every day of the mid-sem break. To be fair, I was able to keep it up for 3 days, which was 2 more posts than I expected when I started. Yesterday wasn't that special though. The peeps and I went to watch The Amazing Spiderman 2 last night at Wetherill Park. 'Twas pretty good. And I didn't expect that thing that happened near the end to happen. I cried metaphorical tears. Okay not really. It'll take a lot more than that to sadden me. Crying is for people who actually care about things. 

Afterwards, we gatecrashed Manly's "party" by rocking up at his house in Edensor Park in the middle of some sort of social gathering. Party is in quotation marks because when we walked in, it was just a bunch of his friends sitting around the table eating nachos and talking about stuff. Ew. Is this what parties are like when you reach your mid 20s? Because I'm pretty sure I prefer the 80+ guest parties that Nancy and I have been throwing at Kenny's. And if I had a backyard that spacious, I would be installing strobe lights (or a pool). Just sayin'. 

All kidding aside, his house isn't actually that bad despite being smaller than I imagined. It looks and is furnished like your typical bachelor pad and he did say I'm welcome to crash anytime I feel like running away from home. That was nice of him. He also said that I could bring guys over and he would be able to give us privacy since his house has THREE bedrooms and a Jacuzzi. Then he did the suggestive eyebrows thing accompanied by inappropriate pelvis thrust and I was like, yep, there he is. Sentimentality is short-lived (if not inexistent) when it comes to Manly. 

Biennale tomorrow, followed by Othilia's party on Tuesday night. Operation Forget-That-You-Have-Responsibilities is working out quite well I must say. It'll catch up to me sooner or later but for now, I'm just going to keep on running. Time is my enemy and he's a little bit unbeatable but I feel like he's granted me a reprieve these last few days. I'd be a fool not to grab it and run. 

Self-Destruction Never Felt So Good

I'm only blogging so much because I'm on break and it's my goal to do/go somewhere new every day. This blog is just the place where everything gets recorded.

Apologies for the super-duper low quality photos. Everything you see on this blog is taken by my phone camera so if it's not blurry, the exposure is probably crap. (Usually it's both.) 

There aren't that many photos this time because at around 10pm, the party really got underway, we left the hotel room and well, there were shenanigans and dancing and stuff. 

The hotel room was right above that street in Chinatown - the one where N2 is located.

Hi Danny!

Hi Nanc!

Hi William! Your party was pretty epic.

Hi Jess!

So I skipped the whole part where we went downstairs at about 10pm, walked to the club as a very loud drunken mob, danced for a few hours, walked back, saw a naked guy doing something really inappropriate in front of his hotel window, chilled in our own hotel room, went back downstairs, walked to Townhall for food at 3am, brought it back to the room. stuffed an annoying person into the closet and did who knows what until waking up at 7-8am.

There's no record of any of that so just have another photo of the balcony.

And World Square, because it's pretty.

Happy Birthday William! Thanks for the party!

"To the Boys Who May One Day Date My Daughter" - Jesse Parent

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This is the second poetry video that I've posted this week. What's wrong with me? I don't even like poetry. High school stamped out any burgeoning love I ever had for the art form. But maybe it's because we never studied anything like this. They gave us the driest topics in high school when really they should've been showing us spoken-word or TEDx-like performances. But anyway, I'm rambling. Just watch the video. It's pretty good.  

I found David Bowie in a Bikini

We walked around Newtown in the morning for a bit. Nice suburb. Lots of Thai restaurants. 

There were sculptures of clockwork dogs,

Posters of pink cowboys,

And giant balls on the ground.

There was also Watermelon and Strawberry cake from the Black Star Pastry cafe.

And more art.

I went with this girl. She kept photobombing my pics.

I wish someone would give me flowers. Wait, no I don't because flowers are useless and die after a couple of days. I wish someone would give me money.

The shops sold cool things.

And I found David Bowie in a bikini.

ET phone home.

We walked to USYD and I got to pretend that I actually go to a decent-looking university.

While Nancy was in class, I went exploring.

I once received an award in this building. I had canapes, shook hands with an important person and received lots of propaganda about enrolling in USYD. Maybe I should've taken them up on that offer. USYD's got grass and nicer-looking boys.

I met Tracey at the Manning Bar and we watched people do terrible stand-up comedy. It was pretty fun.

And then we went home.

(Half) A Day in Photos

As if UTS wasn't hipster enough, they went and pasted giant parrots all over the walls of the cafeteria. They've also laid down fake plastic grass - no doubt to compensate for the sad lack of greenery on campus. Maybe they thought we wouldn't notice the difference between synthetic, spongy turf and the fresh, green, dewy kind. 

The bricks are fake. That weird, exuberant girl is all too real, unfortunately.

Ropes hanging from the ceiling might give people the wrong idea. But maybe that's just me.

I was walking through Chinatown with an Italian-Australian friend recently and she asked me if Asia was similar to this street here. I said sure, why not.

You had one job Starbucks lady. One job.

There is no witty caption for this photo. It's George Street, plain and simple.

"Craft-a-Doodle: 75 CREATIVE exercises". I have nothing more to say.

Remember when I used to know how to sew? Yeah, me neither.

Sometimes I forget that Sydney is a beautiful city. Also the sky looks purple! Which reminds me, someone tried to sell me a purple car the other day.

It started to pour so I had to share Nancy's umbrella. BTW, SHOUTOUT TO NANCY who wants me to blog because she's bored. Also SHOUTOUT TO JESS who mentioned me in her post. Thanks Jess.

Fried chicken from Liverpool Street near World Square. It tastes better than it looks, I swear.

And that's the end of this sad, sad photo post. I'm now officially on break guys so hit me up if you want to party. And by party, I mean go somewhere to chill cause that's just how I roll baby!

No, but seriously. Give me things to do.

Period Poetry

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The organisation that I'm currently doing my internship at on Mondays and Tuesdays holds these monthly events called fastBREAK at the Powerhouse Museum. They usually involve 5 creative thinkers giving short talks about a given issue (there's a different one each month). Usually I would keep my work life and personal blog separate just because I don't want to risk anyone from my "professional" life stumbling across this embarassingly unprofessional ranty space. However, I'll make an exception this time because this particular talk from last month's event was too entertaining not to be shared. 

You only have to watch the first two and a half minutes. Her name is Tami Sussman and she's a spoken word artist giving a performance on menstruation. The piece is titled "Fuck Yeah, I'm Bleeding"  and it is hilariously confronting and unconventional. Enjoy.

Dear You

Also known as: thoughts about people that you wouldn't voice aloud because you'd basically be crowning yourself the Queen of Awkward and Unnecessary Insights. 

Subtitled: I'm Not Analysing You But I Kind of Am. 

*********

Dear You #1,

I just met you so I don't really know much about you. I don't know how old you are, what you're studying, what sorts of things you did before you got this position, etc. However I do know that you are mind-blowingly AMAZEBALLS at your job. I have never seen someone so young delegate and organise as efficiently as you (and with so much confidence). If I was half as articulate, I would be over the moon. You simultaneously scare and inspire me. Please don't hurt me. And please teach me your skills. 

Dear You #2,

I wish you would have more confidence in yourself. You will find that people are always willing to talk and share things but the only way they'll do this is if you open up and give them the chance. Try to put yourself out there a little bit more. I know it's hard but in the end, only the opinions of the people close to you and who you value matter. Plus, you are a naturally kind and caring person. It's just not possible for people to dislike you. 

Dear You #3,

I think you’re all sorts of amazing. It sounds so terribly clichéd but you really do live life to the fullest. You remind me a bit of Jenny from Forrest Gump (minus the fucked up abusive background) because of the perpetual flightiness. That reminds me; you always seem so restless - like you’re running away from something. Why ARE you so restless?

Dear You #4,

During that whole time, you took my existence for granted. So fuck you. 

Dear You #5,

You make me laugh. You make a lot of people laugh actually because you're always doing things that go against what's expected. When I first met you, I thought you were your typical Asian gym boy. (To be fair, you do say 'swag' and 'brah' a lot AND you've got that haircut). But then we had that really random talk about life fulfillment and I realised that you've got much more depth than you let on. Sorry, I shouldn't have made an immediate judgement.

Dear You #6

You don't make sense to me. I have trouble figuring out what you're thinking, which unsettles me because I'm not usually this bad at reading people. I always feel like I'm missing something crucial. Like you've left me out of the joke. It's not just me though. I think you confuse a lot of people because your motives are so ambiguous.

Dear You #7

I care about you a lot and I wish you would get your shit together which is why I'm always nagging you. I'm sorry if it comes across as super-bitchiness but it's just because I don't know how else to motivate you. I hope you would take a step back and look at the bigger picture. You've always lived in the moment and that's great but I feel like I need to warn you that life isn't so forgiving. 

Dear You #8

Even though we don't spend as much time together as we used to, I feel like you still get me like no one else at uni does. You are such a lovely and sweet person and you make Wednesday nights that little bit more bearable. I always feel stressed for you when you tell me about your assignments because I'd been there last year and it was such an unpleasant and horrible experience. We should hang out more often. 

Dear You #9

You know your shit and that's hella attractive to me, I'm not even going to deny it. You always seem very tired and stressed though (and with good reason as well). I'm sorry if I'm in any way contributing to this. I hope you're not stretching yourself too thin. Good luck with whatever else is going on in your life. 

Dear You #10

Thanks for reading this blog post. Did you go through it trying to figure out whether any of these were directed at you? ('Cause that's totally what I would have done). I just want to clarify though that the nine people above aren't necessarily those I consider the most important people in my life. Some I don't even really know that well. They just happen to be people who make certain impressions spring to mind. 

                

The 1975 - Sex

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"Hey, watcha listening to?"

"Sex."

"Oh. Okay."

I Want

I want to sleep for 12 hours straight and not feel guilty about it.

I want to go back to the Botanic Gardens and just lie in the grass for a whole afternoon. Maybe bring a friend with me so we could chat if I get bored.

I want to drive somewhere far away with the windows down and good music blasting from the stereo.

I want to stay out until 2 am playing lame board games.

I want to hang out with the girls at someone's house and chat about stupid shit.

I want to go for a midnight swim. Preferably not drunk.

I want to listen to people talk about things they're passionate about.

I want to listen to The Civil Wars and Beirut on repeat while lying in bed.

I want to spend a whole day learning songs on an instrument.

I want to go to a museum or art gallery and just look at interesting things.

I want to sneak out at 5 am and watch the sunrise from somewhere high up.

I want to read a good book.

I want to take up jogging again.

I want solitude.

I want company.

I want to stop being such a whiny loser so I can concentrate on work.