unhappy monday

after such an amazing weekend, going to work on monday was such a fucken nose dive straight into concrete.

awful day at the office. nothing worked. my brain felt like it would have been cushioned in cotton wool that prevents any communication going in or out. none of my so called creative cells seemed fully operational. i was cranky, shitty and under way too much stress.

but then there's msn and those funny fucked up lil messages that make me grin, giggle, laugh out lout and blush in turn.

i wish the weekend could have lasted for longer. it was quite wonderful in a way that i haven't experienced for as long as i can remember. it's quite confusing being treated like a princess. i've been so used to dickheads that i didn't remember it could be like this.

it's quite fucked up feeling uncomfortable because you're beeing treated like you should, don't you think?

...and abt the messages, i think i preferred the ones that made me blush.

wonderful weekend

quite the resourceful young man this frenchman. today, he showed up behind my door with a beautiful big gift wrapped box full of salmiakki. you can imagine that i was quite impressed. heh. he tried it and naturally hated it, but hey, more for me.

i have had the most amazing day today. first we went for a coffee in the sun and walked around paddington. then we went for another coffee at luna park, kicking kids and enjoying the weather. and for a perfect finish he took me to watsons bay for hrs of walking around at the beach, enjoying a mind boggling view of sydney while purring at the sun and being disgustingly romantic. having a fantastic late lunch of fish and chips in this beautiful restaurant at watsons bay and to top it off a glass of fantastic white wine at a nice lil restaurant at woolloomoolloo.

i'm telling you bunnies, i'm being treated like a bloody princess. i could get used to this you know...

the proposition

ended up seeing a great flick last night. the frenchman wanted to take me out to see the presets at the metro but it was sold out. so we decided to see a movie instead. the plan b was to see little fish but of course the last screening had started 20 mins before we got to the theater.

the proposition had just started. 'a super violent australian western with great cast and written by nick cave' i was told and it sounded pretty damn good. and i can tell you that it was too.

after the movie it was fantastic cocktails and good tunes at candle light. a fantastic night, once again.

blogspotted!

swingingsusan - i just found out that my crazy ex boss blogs too. she's funny as fuck that woman. an endless source of entertainment i tell you. and prolly the only female i know that uses the word 'cunt' as much as i do. strongly recommended bunnies.

"What else...Oh I created Nick Cave in the Sims only for him to electrocute himself trying to fix a fucking oven and died. It took me so long to get his nose right.

The picture is Discoman in sarong sleeping on a Saturday arvo. I really wish people wouldn't buy him things like sarongs - cause he wears them - he likes the fact that my mother told him that they go nude underneath in Sri Lanka so he is now free-balling in that dirty sarong in my house - so very wrong."

oh and the notorious discoman is my video art lecturer from uni. crazy bunnies both of them. and very good value.

un-fucken-believable

exs. you know what i'm talking abt. i still think that you should be allowed to drag them behind the barn and take care of them once you're done. clean and simple and none of this bs. grrrroar.

it's incredible how much the lack of payout (read: rootage) brings the level of tolerance down.

no, i do not have to listen to your bs anymore. i don't need to hear you whinging abt your fuckwit of a day at the office. and most definitely no, you do NOT have the right to get the shits and get all bitchy abt my current social life SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!

double standards must be one of the things that shits me the most. shits me to fucken tears. everything is peachy as long as they are the one who's moving on. but lo and behold if i have the nerve to re-direct my attention to someone new.

yes luv, i'd love to hear your petty comments. what was that? oh yes, pls get personal. and oh no, there is absolutely no need to think abt my feelings since you know, someone else is taking care of that part already.

yes. let's be friends and i'll take your bs while you sit back and relax. you know what? let's not.

wine by the sea

the frenchman took me out again. he drove me to bondi and we went to this beautiful restaurant overlooking the sea.

it was a beautiful night and we sat outside on the balcony drinking fantastic white wine, listening to the sea, flirting shamelessly and once again being disgustingly romantic.

i dare say we put the ppl in the surrounding tables off their dinner. it was fantastic.

quoting

[in her shoes: diaz and colette are having a talk abt the colette's ever growing collection of shoes she never wears...]

- 'if you're not going to wear them, you've got to stop buying them!'

- 'it's just... i like to treat myself. and... clothes never looked good. food just makes me fatter. shoes always fit.'

heh, i know exactly what she means.

i've said it before and i'll say it again: shoes are the re-usable prozac of single life.

more stories from the office (piss-up)

this is yet another case of my (ex) boss cracking me up. we had a work piss-up. this time at slip-inn.

i had to leave early cause i had promised to meet a mate of mine for a coffee. of course my work mates gave me shit for leaving early and i told my boss that i had a coffee date with a pretty chicky and could not stay.

well, when the time for me to leave came, i said bye to everyone. as i was half way out of the door, she shouts out loud:

'H A V E   F U N   M U F F   D I V I N G ! ! ! '

the whole rest of the table went 'HUH?' as i giggled my arse out of the door. man, is this going to be a fun one to explain at the office.

and sorry bunnies to disappoint you, but no, there was no muff diving involved. i bet ppl at the office will be disappointed too.

awesome long weekend

maybe the best way to fight aversion to third dates is to actually drag your arse to one? i did. and it cured my second date angst in this particular case. entirely.


i met the frenchman again on saturday morning.
he drove me to a nearby beach where we enjoyed our morning coffee in the sun followed by a relaxing walk along the beach.

it was an incredibly beautiful day. sun was shining, there was a perfect fresh ocean breeze and i have to say that the company was great. it was all so disgustingly romantic and wonderful that if i would have wittnessed it from aside, i would have prolly felt sick. luveded it.

oh. and i sprained my ankle. heh. as soon as i stepped down from my heels and went barefoot i went and fucked my left ankle up.


this is not art | electrofringe at newcastle
i was so well entertained and distracted that i ended up missing my train. well, three of them to be honest. when i finally got my drunken grinning arse on the train, i headed to newcastle.

sat night was a non-stop arty piss-up with my badly behaving uni mates. heh. i got full respect (as well as the pointing and laughing) from my mates: 'man, that's dedication! a sprained swollen ankle and she's still on fucken high heels!'

but i have to tell you bunnies, i just don't get it. what the fuck is it with the stinky hippies? i mean, i personally don't think that the use of deodorant is taking anything away from my art.

why does wanna-be-arty nature have to mean that you need to be bloody feral? abt half way through saturday night i started to get this overwhelming need to educate ppl around me abt the wonders of personal hygiene. 'YES! it is a good idea to wash your hair. YES! deodorant is a wonderful thing! NO! showers and baths are NOT overrated.'

and the clothes? oh i don't even want to go there. let's just say that i was sticking out like a sore thumb in my girly skirt, high heels and styled hair. and my non-hairy armpits.


'feature artists'
then on sunday morning we lectured our workshop as feature artists. we were told that we gathered the biggest crowd among the week full of workshops. the place was packed and ppl seemed genuinely interested. they asked heaps of questions and no one walked out half way through. awesome.

as soon as we were done, we walked into the nicest bar we could find by the water and celebrated with big frozen mango daquiris. mmm... mango.


romantic australia day date
last night i was treated to yet another romantic date accompanied by the notorious frenchman. we ended up sitting at russel crowe's backyard, at the end of the pier drinking chardy straight out of the bottle, talking for hrs. overly and disgustingly drunken romantic.

update on Milking The Cow

Milking The Cow 2005 - single screen printed and scanned frame for the video

i finished screen printing the first third of frames for my Milking The Cow video. so it's all happening. right now i'm doing my best *cough* to get my essay abstract and annotated bibliography done before i head up to newcastle tomorrow.

-

life other than uni? well. once again, i am intriqued. this time it's something very refreshing and quite different from my previous adventures. i might elaborate on that more later on. but for now, let's just keep it at that.

stories from the office

see, there's this wonderful guy that i work with. he's the most flaming gay i know but at the same time he's the most concervative person i have ever met. a delicious combination i can tell you. he's like a one man's travelling entertainment show.

well. today, he was telling a story abt a recent date of his that didn't quite go all rosy. apparently his unfortunate date was not that well equipped...

"you see darling, it was when he dropped those pants that i just knew it was not going to work. you know how it is, three inches just doesn't do the trick. well, i didn't want to be mean, but i had to say something. so i said: sweetheart. i'm fat. look at my arse. you're going to need more than that to get past the grand canyon..."

i nearly fell off my chair. funny as fuck this guy. funny as fuck. now i'm going to think of him every time i hear the grand canyon mentioned. heh.

insane times ahead - 1 down 9 to go

grah. had a very long and labour heavy day at uni. and it's not going to get any easier before wednesday next week. in-fucken-sane.

printing of the 'milking the cow' frames is well on it's way. thank fucken gawd. i've finished printing c channel, did 1/3 of the m channel already and should do the rest of the second colour tomorrow. that leaves y channel for next week. that's all sweet as fuck. not really stressing over that.

we set up a small group exhibition with pg and muscles at the yz gallery today. man, i love seeing my babies on the wall where other ppl can finally see them too. that's all sweet and under control too. no stress there.

busy days at work ahead. but that's still no need to stress. they just eat the hrs out of the week. no other reason to worry.

however.

there are two fucken major clowds above my head and they are only getting thicker by the day. i'm just waiting for them to evolve into a bloody hurricane. in short: painful essay and a scary workshop as a 'feature artist'. fuck that. actually, fuck both.

help.

The Second Date Angst [tm]

ready bunnies? cause here it comes again. ranting on mindlessly abt something useless.

(and yes, this is procrastination at it's purest form.)

this is a brand new condition/syndrome that i have discovered in myself due to the fact that i have actually started dating. now i know why i haven't done it before: it just doesn't work. the problem is The Second Date Angst[tm] (TSDA).

you know how it is, when you meet an intriquing new person who tickles your fancy and makes you laugh. they demand to take you out for a date.

first date - it's all good
be it picnic in the park, dinner out or just the usual few drinkies in a nice venue, the first date is usually great. they are funny, flirty, interesting and there is that tickling tension between every single line said. they are ballsy, cocky and arrogant. at this stage they are on top of the game. they are the alpha male and you are the lil piece of meat that they have decided to have for dinner. they provide you with a challenge. its all good.

after the first date you hopefully get swept off your feet by a mindblowing first kiss. after which you wobble home on tipsy high heels grinning like an idiot thinking: 'wow. what a catch!'

after the first date they continue courting you, showering you with compliments and ask you out again. typically you meet the guy again a week later.

second date - anxiety kicks in
it's time for the second date and the tables have turned. the cocky arrogant fuckwit is offering his balls on a silver platter. the edgy humour is suddenly toned down, cause they don't want to offend you. they have decided that they want you and they don't want to risk the catch. suddenly there is no challenge. suddenly it all turns boring. suddenly, it's time to go home.

especially if they do the fucken 'you are so beautiful that you prolly have dozens of men like me just queuing behind your door. why would you want someone like me...' fuck that. i mean, wtf is it with that line? do guys really think it's a good idea? i mean, they must realise that instead of making the chick go 'aaawwww, isn't that sweet. no of course not hunny, there's no one else in the world i want but you!' the result is more along the lines of 'hang on... you DO have a point there...'

even if everything else goes great, the spark is flushed down the toilet of the dating world for good. i mean, i know i am going to get the balls in the end, why can't the guy at least pretend that he'll provide a worthy challenge? if i wanted a lapdog, i'd buy one from the pet store.

truth in nationality stereotypes?
maybe there is a seed of truth in the nationality stereotypes. i guess i really am a scandinavian ice princess and when put in the same room with a hot blooded male i go aloof. but instead of having the balls to slowly melt me bit by bit with steady warmth, they go and crank up the heat and there i go bolting again.

you know, it's like that frog in the boiling water thingy. you need to be sneaky.

stirring some shit

went to get my hair cut today. the hairdresser chick was fucken useless.

[abt half way through the cut at this point]

she: 'ummm... i think the other side of your hair is a bit longer than the other. i need to cut more from this side to make it even...'

me: 'yes. there is a barely noticeable TEN-FRIGGEN-CM difference! (what are you, fucken blind?)'

she: 'ummm... really?'

me: 'that's the whole (friggen) idea of the cut (you dumbarse). i think it's time to put those scissors down (before you find them sticking out of the side of your friggen throat!)'

i was gladly able to swallow the bits in brackets. wasn't easy. i told her to fuck off, came home and cut my own hair using a razor. now it's cool as fuck. very asymmetrical, very messy and very, VERY rok.

--

heh. tell you another funny story. i have done such a good job stirring shit up lately.

[sitting in the bar with a bunch of my best uni mates including pg, muscles and the mexican. we're few drinkies in and everyone's feelin nicely loud and offensive already. after hearing that muscles can't accompany me to the mca opening that same night, i start typing a sms with a grin on my face.]

pg: 'heh. the frenchman?'

me: 'oh, nono. mr. pinstripe'

pg: [cracks up] ' hah! nice work juggling all of them!'

me: 'oh you know me... i have a reputation to keep up!'

[i continue sending the sms and a lil later muscles and the mexican get up to catch a class]

me: 'see dear, you're such a sucky date! you're never there when i need you!'

muscles: 'yeh well, you know me, i'm a busy man'

[the mexican comes over to kiss my cheeks goodbye]

muscles: 'sweety, i'd kiss you too but you know... better not... *wink*'

[the mexican and muscles walk off as i turn back to the table still giggling as i notice the nin boy sitting in the next table staring at me with a devastated look on his face. i naturally choke on my wine while i crack up uncontrollably]

me: 'well... SO LONG!' [i flash a grin, wave and bolt while laughing my arse off]

what makes this convo so very tragic is that the nin boy would have been very keen on hooking up after the second date. whereas i went through the notorious '2nd date freakout/turnoff' (i'll blog abt this shit later on).

i told him that i was not comfy with the idea of dating someone from the school, cause you know... 'you just don't screw the crew'[full stop]. muscles of course is not only from the same school but from my friggen class.

of course the nin boy would have misunderstood our lil bubbly and flirty humour entirely and prolly thinks of me as a real ghengis khunt now. fantastic.

heh. i dun think i'll have any more trouble with him.

mess

i'm sorry abt the radio silence bunnies.

i haven't felt comfortable blogging lately. some ppl still too closely involved seem to read my blog occasionally. yes, you three legged battleslug, in case you're reading this, it definitely means you. not entirely comfortable with that idea.

as i said before, you should never ask questions you don't want to hear the answers to.

--

i've met someone. someone who treats me like a princess, showers me with compliments and makes me feel like a goddess. which is lovely.

that's all it is at the moment. it might turn into something. let's see. a bit too cynical to expect anything earth shattering but you know me. i always am.

everything is good as long as i don't hear the little door behind me close. cause as soon as it does, there i go bolting again.

--

at the moment however, i should be concentrating on my essay abstract which is due only too soon. this uni/work thing is starting to get pretty bloody hectic.

freak

heh. funny shit. i published a work of mine online yesterday. someone emailed me abt it. here's a quick translation of the email:

"your latest exhibition doesn't live up to the beauty and moral standards of a national socialist nation. i would recommend you to question your current western pro-individual materialistic values and look into a cause that i myself follow to provide your life with a meaning."

teeheehee. sure buddy. you're a cracker. and a nut. or maybe - maybe just a nut.

my beach

i was talking abt beaches with a friend of mine. he had his own. which was very perty. but nothing can compare to mine. my own lil paradise on earth.

i had forgotten all abt it. it seems like it was ages ago, even though it's been only four years. sailing in the caribbean. now there's one thing that i want to do again one day. i do miss my paradise. and the pina coladas.

running in martini stilettos

i got absolutely off my fucken tits on uber-wanky cocktails last night. i was taken for a fancy lounge crawl around the area. it was fantastic. and good for a 'spot the fake tits' contest too. great fun. plenty of pointing and laughing i tell you.

quite the gentleman this frenchman. me being the typical scandinavian independent bitch made him sigh 'sweetheart, you cannot do that. if my mother would see, she would cry!' abt a dozen times last night. heh. good value entertainment-wise. quite fucked up and insane as well. which is always a bonus.

oh, and i have a new fav drink: 'stiletto martini'. incredible. liquid sex.

--

and such a good lil girl i am. instead of sleeping in and suffering a hangover, i got up early, went for a run and now i feel like i could conquer the world.

or well... at least cook lunch. yes. let's go with that.

here i go again

...this boredom shit shall be the end of me.

dating is fun. even tho i really shouldn't be getting myself into more trouble at this point. i'm fucked up enough as it is. heh. oh well, like that's going to stop me.

half-french arty-farty white wine lover. so far so good. i'll tell the awful truth when i get back.

note to self: i have got to stop doing this.

--update:

wow. no awful truth to report. no horror stories to tell. i had a fucken fantastic time. a fantastic first date.

never trust online dating services

hah. man, am i fucked.

online dating. you know the shit. i've done the rant a couple of times already so not going into it now. just going to say that slamming down lil online-romeo-wanna-bes is a good remedy for boredom.

well, the funny shit is that half of the ppl i know from syd seem to have their profiles on the same service. it would be so much fun mocking them for it, but you see the problem is that i'm on it too. heh. doesn't quite work.

anyway, was curious enough to check my best matches in syd. according to the bloody thing, my best match is sunshine. heh.

first he moves into my house, drinks my goon and locks me into the backyard. after i move out of the house the fuckwit shows up in the picture again, dolls up in pinstripe and now he's my best friggen match.

bloody fucken hell. so much for trusting the internet. back to sniffing hotties irl.