lost treasure: erin

i made a friend in uni called erin. i was studying postmodernism and was completely lost and struggling, wading through all the bullshit created by other more self-important lit students. i had a friday morning tute which is basically unheard of when you study arts- everyone has friday off, making thursday the night to go out drinking cheap dirty beer. so friday tutes make for some rather uninspired and hungover contributions, except by that peppy know-it-all who i now suspect of being on crack, or at least a shit-tonne of coffee. damn her. anyways.

we had a discussion about one of the novels we were studying, and for once i was inspired instead of bored. i wanted to continue the discussion post-tutorial, and bravely put the suggestion out there- i didn't have any friends in my tutorial- but nobody had the time, or the inclination. it was at this point erin piped up to accept my offer. we went to have coffee, both slightly nervous at the prospect of a new friend (university of melbourne, i felt at that stage, was mainly groups of private school students who all knew each other and had no need to make friends or even be polite to strangers) but filled with enough lit student bravado to muster up a half decent conversation.

we didn't talk about the book. at all. i managed to mention early on something of my religious ex with schizophrenia, to discover that erin, in fact, also had a religious ex with schizophrenia.

i'm sure there are plenty of them out there, but it felt like a pretty magical meeting at the time. there are not many instances where you can confess horrible things and have someone meet and match you. we had a great chat that day, a little shy of 2 hours and 2 coffees later swapping numbers.

we met up fairly frequently, and wrote letters over the holidays when i was in nsw with my family. she was beautiful, she looks like katherine heigl, freakishly so.

and then i left uni, and she continued on, and we lost touch. now i don't know where she is, or if she's in australia anymore, and if she managed to shake the echo of the crazy ex.

i hadn't thought of her for a long time, but tonight she popped into my head and i looked for her on facebook, and googled her, and nothing appeared...

i hope she is happy, doing things she loves and being alive.

secret: a small rant on assholes

what is the deal with assholes anyway

i hate those guys

secret: a midnight thought (at 1am)

i watched a lot of grey's anatomy today and i decided i would like to die in my sleep. calmly, when i'm old, but not so old i've started putting the kettle in the fridge and microwaving my handbag.

i'd like it to be free of drama, and i'd like my affairs to be in order, and i'd like to have some awesome possessions to leave to my appreciative grandkids in my will.

i'd like something nice but relatively obscure to be played at the funeral, so that only my close friends knew to chuckle or smile wryly, or fondly, when they heard it play.

and i'd like to go before anyone else died, so i never had to live alone.

i'd also like my body to be found right away when i didn't wake up in the morning. i do not like the idea of being found in a decomposed state, because that is scary.

also, if something bad happens and i'm resurrected as a zombie, i want my loved ones to know i fully support them doing what it takes to disable me and stop me from eating brains.

secret: I've lost my feet (I've lost my head)

i confessed to a friend recently that without snowboarding, i realize, i have become rather 2 dimensional. i'm working on healing an injury i did last season. ladies and gentleman, learn from my mistake, and treat your sprained ankle right away please.

i haven't had any time up the hill yet, besides that one run on opening day. besides not being able to ride, there are all sorts of other things i'm missing out on. i'm trying desperately not to be 'the injured one who can't go riding and doesn't want anyone else to enjoy themselves or tell her anything about their day' (yeah, nobody wants to be that guy). i don't know if i've succeeded, but in trying so damn hard not to let it bother me i wonder exactly i have put off dealing with.

i met up with a fairly new friend last week. she has had many ankle related injuries in her time. she's also a bit of a hippy, which reminds me of my mum, who i dearly love and miss a lot right now (mums always fix hurty stuff with their mum magicks). spiritually, and i say this with hesitation as i know you're probably sniggering at me even bringing it up, your ankles are what ground you, what put you in touch with solid ground. so she says, she says that a bad ankle disrupts everything.

i will listen to anyone's opinion on nearly anything. i will consider it. i know i don't know everything, a fact i become increasingly aware of as time passes.

i've been so damned sad. i thought it was just because i really really like snowboarding. it was suggested to me that the shitty things i normally let run off me like water do, in fact, run out through my feet. and the darn ankle's just fucking my shit up.

it might be true, it might not, maybe he did, maybe he didn't (not... alive). <-- click here

all i know is: foot bad. me angry. no go riding. sad and angry inside. pretend happy outside.

except when i eat really tasty food. then i'm happy right down to the crappy ankle. and beyond.


also i like to youtube bits of tv shows i like.
this week it's scrubs. oooh and family guy. <-- click here too

i have more to say but youTube just took my brain hostage.

post ended.