Friday, July 23, 2004

In short... 

In the past seven days, I have bled, ached, wept, cursed god multiple times, made a cake in four hours that was meant to take twenty minutes, knocked on strangers' doors to ask if anyone had an electric beater to make said cake, met my friend's new friends (replacements), snuck into my old school to steal wireless and download music/programs/porn while avoiding the cleaners, contemplated stealing a school mouse but refrained,
walked to Deakin to photocopy the dozen odd cases I'm meant to read for Monday, gossiped with my grandma, played far too much solitaire, sent about forty SMSes, arranged to meet the uncle I haven't seen for like six months, watched Bad Eggs, Mean Girls, Australian Idol, and a documentary on cracking a child porno ring, run around multiple KMart/Target/Toys R Us stores looking for Tamagochis, checked my four email accounts far more than necessary, invited someone to GMail (two left, any bidders?), slept in, worn the same clothes too many times, written wanky blog posts and refrained from posting them (eg. from 4am: "WTF, the World Health Organization is going on tour?!" [THE WHO, hyuck hyuck]), gone partially deaf from trying to clean my ears with water & those cotton sticky thingies, listened in to AT LEAST one conversation between my med/physiio friends about anatomical planes and the wacky and weird facts about cadavers (apparently the preservatives on them make you hungry), pondered the concept "fuck buddies" with said friends, had noodles with curry for the first time, enjoyed Gardiners' Creek, lost French Girl for a short time when she dawdled shopping for ingredients for aforementioned cake from hell, tried to explain the meaning of "bugger", "bloody", "stuff it" and "piss-weak" to FG, met half a dozen new people, been a interpreted bloody trilingually for FG, my dad & grandma, filled out the new jkrowling.com quiz (howler question), reconsidered my career direction because cadavers are so much more fun than longwinded judges, been rude to my crazy grandfather, rectified and then re-fucked-up my sleep cycle, read a few chapters of Bill Bryson's new popsci book, read Dan Brown's addictively trashy "Angels & Demons" and "Digital Fortress" (formula: symbols/codes + weird sect/terrorists + dashing hero + ravishing-yet-brilliant-heroine + obligatory sex + obligatory popular culture references + shifty albino/cripple + obligatory minor moral conflict), forgotten how to write a pithy sentence or blog post that doesn't involve listing because that actually requires skill and thought, god forbid.

Take that, Proust.

# posted at 12:35 am

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