I like sheep too, Buddy. I like sheep too.

"Oh god, now you've stolen my wheat bag!"

God, I fucking love you people.
You two might be the only friends I have that actually enjoy talking about books and don mclean.
in that order.
for half an hour.
Finally, I've found people that understand my needs.

"Ohhhh no, where are your pants."

Inspiration in the form of Chinese Cats

And then I sat down on the floor and looked at the chinese cat Erin got me in Thailand, and I wondered when, exactly, it had stopped waving, and why I had never noticed.
And then I wondered what the point of a waving chinese cat was if it didn't wave.
And then I realised.
There is no point.
But that doesn't mean it still doesn't have a right to sit there.

MLIA- My life is AWKWARD

ahahaha geddit?
I'm playing on words here.
its funny.
*cue laughter*

LMAO SERIOUSLY THOUGH, what the fuck with my life.
Can't I get through one day without making situations awkward and being generally retarded?

I discovered something today.
Wanna know what it is?
I've never been honest with anyone. Not even myself.
Well heres some honesty.

I'm waiting for it to end so I can start again and not stuff it up this time.
Let's put it all behind us, shall we?

*walk into the distance, cue sunset, cue fields of grass, cue long barren road,cue radiohead in the background, cue fade to blackness.*
The end.

You will NEVER BE a Blossom Scout

Went to Glenferrie after school and forgot to check with the Maccas people what the Donkey toy said.
Now I'll never know, and will probably have nightmares of him shouting random gibberish at me.
Also found out Gracie and Jo are tots massive rebs. Gracie sits on the floor on trains instead of seats, and Jo *gasp* ditches study hall. Also found out Lissie eats vomit with crackers that she claims is cottage cheese.
But we all know that she's lying.


I should stop reading depressing books. Turns out, they're really quite depressing. They totally remind me of death and stuff.

This is what I do in my spare time. Write awkward, depressing short stories.

They would make us march until we died. We would walk, tripping over everything, exhaustion tugging at us, pulling us under until we fell, collapsed. Died. Or nearly died. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. “March!” They would shout, kicking us and shouting, “March!” And we would march. Because if we didn’t march, we would die. And yet if we did march, eventually we would die too. Either way, the possibility of death was there, always lingering, like a dark cloud on a summer’s day. Only there was no summer’s day. There were just clouds and more clouds.

They made us march everywhere. We would march through towns, endless towns, where people would stand and laugh at us, point at us. Our suffering was comical to them. And if it wasn’t, the soldiers would make them pretend. Everyone laughed, because they had to laugh, or they wanted to laugh, or they didn’t know better than to laugh. Sometimes, we would collapse in the streets and die there, trash on the side of the road, and they would laugh even more. Sometimes they cheered. I’m not sure how far gone I was when it got to the point I didn’t care when another one of us died. We dropped like flies, and we mourned that way too.

They turned us into their sheep, like we were things to be numbered, ordered, moved around like chess pieces on a chessboard. This piece goes here, and this piece is knocked over by this piece, and this piece goes 3 steps the left. At the start they took away our homes, our possessions, and moved us into our own little villages, Lego lands of despair and decay. Then we were put into striped pajamas, the same model for every person, and we were numbered, the way you might number a cow on a farm. All of us got the same food, the same things to do, the same dirty looks, the same beatings, the same pain, rejection, loss. We were all stripped bare. Naked, vulnerable. They sucked the life out of us, bottled it up and destroyed it. And then they destroyed us. Again and again and again.

They were doing good, they said to themselves. They were changing the world. For the better. They mustn’t feel remorse, no no, they mustn’t feel regret. They must look forward, to the bigger picture. The better picture. Because it had to be done. We were Jews. We didn’t deserve homes. We didn’t deserve possessions, or jobs, or friends, or health. We didn’t deserve life. No, we didn’t even have the right to simply exist. Our presence was too much for them to bear. So they murdered us. They murdered us, and they believed it was the right thing. When is death ever the right thing? When can you kill and be glad of it? When can you murder hundreds of people and feel noble, feel good? When, can you murder hundreds of people, and get away with it?

They took us from the Ghetto, ‘rescued’ us when we were on deaths door and put us on trains, hundreds into a carriage, crowds forcing their way through. And we rushed in, squeezing past people, jumping, bustling, forcing our way to the front in acts of desperation. People everywhere, so many people in the train we could barely breathe, couldn’t move for hours. Air thick with body odour, dirt, grit. Vomit littered everywhere. The stench, so much stench. Weak bodies turned weaker. Bones touching bones. But we got on. We got on because we thought they were taking us somewhere better, somewhere that wasn’t the Ghetto. Anywhere that wasn’t the Ghetto. We weren’t to know we were being taken somewhere worse. We weren’t to know there was somewhere worse.

They piled us out of the trains into concentration camps. We were surrounded by high barbed wire fences, a promise that there was no way out, no escape from hell. We were split up, women on this side, men on this side. Older people here, younger people here. I was lucky. I was a young man. They didn’t kill me on arrival. But I watched my Mother leave me, promising we’d see each other, promising we wouldn’t be kept apart, fighting to keep the tears at bay as she melted into the crowd. I never saw her again. She died with my little sister and dozens of other women that were tossed into the ‘not suitable to work’ column. It was like they were picking teams for a sports game. Team to the left lives, team to the right dies. Easy as 1,2,3.

They rationed us on everything. Rationed rooms, bunk beds squeezed next to each other, row by row of condensed space. Rationed food, so little you’re bones stuck out at all angles, and food played in your mind like a song stuck on repeat. Rationed lives, with rationed sleep and rationed happiness and rationed family. They rationed and they forced and they pried and they belted. I remember that they would line us up, one by one, and force us to spit on the Torah. “Spit.” They would say, “Spit or get shot.” And they would walk down the line, forcing us to spit. And we spat. Once, my friend Yankel didn’t spit. He stood in line, tall and proud even though he was wearing dirty pajamas and you could see every bone in his body sticking out at all angles. He shook his head and he didn’t spit, and they shot him in the head. I remember he didn’t make a sound as he fell to the floor.

They took us on another march at the end. We walked through the concentration camp in the rain, cold and shivering as hailstones fell from the sky and the wet made our clothes stick to our skin. We huddled together, dozens of us trembling in the cold as we moved in a slow rhythm. Left, right, left, right…. We were led into a big room, where they shaved our heads until they were shiny and bald. We all looked the same, in that room after they shaved our heads. They removed any personal trait we used to have, our weight, our hair, our clothes, and replaced it with one united look. They even broke down our personalities. Who was I, at the end? Did I even know?

Then they told us to remove our clothes. I remember having a childish sense of embarrassment when I undressed in that big room. Even at the end, I held on to a sense of naïve vanity. But I was just bones now. We were all just bones. They told us we were having a shower. A convenient excuse. They made it seem like they were doing us a favour, ridding us of lice and cleaning our dirty skin. Thank us, Jews! For we are helping you!

They led us into the ‘shower,’ crowded us in like they had on the trains. Only we weren’t going anywhere this time. I remember the exact moment it happened. They shut the doors, and locked us in and them out. We stood there for a few moments, a sense of puzzlement slowly washing over us.
And then the gas started raining down from the sky. It fell like snowflakes, washed over us so quickly we barely had time to think. And we were murdered in there, choking, spluttering in that room, as they calmly waited outside for us to die. Did they care? Even a little? Did anyone care? Who was there to save us, in that moment? And as the remains of our bodies were burnt, and as our ashes wafted into the sky, one question lingered in the air.
What was this world that we lived in?

I am a rollercoaster

I miss the future.

its in and out tuesday :O

IN:
jonathan safran foer- because i am in love with him. in a totally awkward, sexual way.
crunchie ice creams: because without them, my life would be devoid of happiness. is it a crunchie? is it an icecream? i spend many a pleasant hour pondering that question
tai chi- because i'm planning to start it at a random house with a really cool tree in kew. just, ynow, to enlighten myself and receive true peace and happiness and stuff. lol jks i just want the chance to tell people i do tai chi.
poetic lonerness- because its a much nicer way to say that someone is an awkward loser. (i.e- me.)

OUT:
pie: because i don't want pie for dinner. who wants pie for dinner? not me. Its much more fun to say than it is to eat
shaving cream for men: because it makes my face smell like a man. which isn't a nice smell. especially when you aren't a man.
God: because he added CARE to my curriculum. bad move, buddy
awkward conversations on facebook: because they're awkward. and they make me sound like a jerk. more than usual.

Let us embrace, and from this moment vow an eternity of misery together

Addictions don't necessarily make you happy.
*Addictions don't ever make you happy. Except for occasionally when they do.

I wonder if you know that sometimes I fancy that I'd never met you.
Then again, sometimes I fancy that I live in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1950.
What can I say?
I love corn.
And who wouldn't want to be alive in a time when buying a fridge was an exciting concept?
Nobody, thats who.

You dug your nails into my hands and it hurt

I used to smile a lot when I was on my own.
I'd sit in my room and sort of not do anything at all and just smile manically at a shelf, or laugh to myself about nothing at all.
I'd sit on public transport and try to contain my amusement about something even I didn't know about, and would do an awkward 'smile into my hand while pretending to cough thing.'
I would go for walks and think about how pretty everything was, how lovely the light caught the tree, how beautiful that river was over there, how cute that dog was frolicking in the grass.
I was in love with everything. The world never ceased to amaze me, delight me. Happy people made me happy. Life made me happy. Happiness made me happy.
I don't smile on my own anymore.
Sometimes, Dad will say something only slightly insulting to me and I'll go in my room and sob for about 10 minutes.
It doesn't take me long to realise I'm not crying about Dad.
I'm crying about nothing. I'm crying for the sake of crying. I'm crying about every little thing that goes wrong that together I fall under the weight of. I cry and I cry and I don't know why I feel so sad suddenly, why something sets me off like that. I know I'm lucky. I just don't accept it.
I'm scared that my life with amount to nothing.
I'm scared that all these dreams I have in my life that I aspire to will never happen, that my life will just be one big, ordinary sequence of events.
I want everything in my life to be big, to be exciting, to be better. Better than what I don't know, but better.
I spend my whole life wanting things, and then I'll get what I want and I'll find something else I want, and I'm not satisfied until I get that too. I spend my whole life finding people that I feel are better than me, and i spend my whole life trying to be more like them. I will never be happy because I will never stop wanting to be better, wanting to be cooler, wanting to be more interesting, more likeable, more, more, more.
In the words of my favourite author, 'her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life.'

Sometimes I feel my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I am not living

"If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."


"Brod's life was a slow realization that the world was not for her, and that for whatever reason, she would never be happy and honest at the same time. She felt as if she were brimming, always producing and hoarding more love inside her. But there was no release. She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. Her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life."

"I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others -- The only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad."


"Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn't the world, it wasn't the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it."

"I thought about all of the things that everyone ever says to each other, and how everyone is going to die, whether it's in a millisecond, or days, or months, or 76.5 years, if you were just born. Everything that's born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they're all on fire, and we're all trapped."

Because your writing proves you understand.

I was a Teenage Anarchist

Just realised I've been subconsciously lying down on my bed, inches away from Maggies face, shouting 'MOUSTACHE' at her for ten minutes. Except I've been shouting it in a really deep, agressive accent, so it comes out more like 'MOOOS,TASHEEE,'
I think I've scared the poor dog.
Except we're making some pretty intense eye contact.

Well, I guess now we know what Caitlin does when she's home alone.

Something is not right with Me

"Sometimes I wish we were never friends.
Sometimes I wish we were only friends with eachother.
Sometimes I wish I had never met you.
Sometimes I wish I was you, completely you, all you.
Sometimes I hate you.
Sometimes i hate you and love you all at once, at the same time.
Sometimes, I wish you never existed,
Sometimes I forget, but never for long. All you have to do is exist to make me remember."

Tired.
Not going to basketball.
Have to get up to go meet someone, but really can't be bothered.
I might just stay here in bed and hide under the covers with my stuffed toys, like I used to do when I was little.
Maybe if I get deep enough I won't have to hear them shouting.

Why is there never enough cheese for my crackers?

Do you ever feel like a triangle in a world full of squares?
cos i do.

and im pretty sure nina zhang does too.
POSSIBLY BECAUSE SHE MAKES UP THE COOLEST SAYINGS EVER.
true story.

Cinema One is the shit

just saw inception.
was waiting for that, 'oh i get it!' revelation the whole movie, ynow, when you suddenly realise what everything meant and that confused haze is completely lifted.
it never came.
i still don't know what the movie was about or even what inception actually is.
it's a skill to be that bad at understanding movies, I think.

You look very pretty in that Tartan Coat

Awkwardly got roped in to talking to Mr Steer for far too long today.
All I wanted to do was find out whether I should do economics if I want to do a journalism course, and he starts excitedly talking about the election and money and how the bank might bring up the interest rates which will be bad for Labour. His enthused face made me a little uncomfortable.

The future doesn't sound very fun right now.
What if I decide to be a columnist in year 10, so I study english, history and economics, and then have a revelation that I want to direct quirky sci fi movies while I'm already at Uni studying Journalism?
I'll never be able to follow my true passion, and will instead be stuck writing shitty articles for a business magazine nobody ever reads while I slowly become more and more conservative and start subconsciously putting my hair in a strict, gelled back bun. I'll become one of those people that invite boring friends to awkward dinner parties where you eat things with foreign, fancy names and listen to soft classical music in the background while drinking ginger beer and discussing russian opera.
Oh well, if worst comes to worse I'm pretty sure I can make a stable living out of growing my hair and then shaving it off and selling it for wigs or medical research.
I think I could look quite good bald.

What does it mean to be fulfilled?

Ew, CARE.
Why must you make me think deeply about my life and what we should all want and why everyone is secretly fucked up and jealous of others.
You're meant to be happy god loving christians that wear funny novelty ties and awkwardly tall cowboy boots.

Ynow the only times I'm truly happy?
During the Summer, when I'm in a little beach town where everyone likes eachother and smile all the time, and a big event is when the guy with the ice cream truck drives down your street. Days where you spend hours on the beach, or at a friends house lazing outside and drinking glass after glass of coke, and never tell you're parents where you are or what you're doing because they're too relaxed to care, and you don't really know where they are half the time anyway.
Because at my beachouse in the summer, the world slows down, and theres nothing to worry about anymore, and, for a few months at least, I can imagine I live in a bubble devoid of time, where nowhere else in the world exists and life isn't full of death and prejudice and racism and hateful bullshit.

But then the Summer ends, and I remember where I am and what I'm doing, and I have to experiance that depressing pang that comes with the knowlege you're still sharing the world with Jimmy from Masterchef.

Don't date people you suspect will make awkward break up statuses on facebook

Did you hear about that guy that tried to fuck his dog?
Maybe life would be easier if that wasn't illegal and frowned upon.

Lol jks that would be weird and awkward.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Did you ever love me?
No, never.
I've always loved you.
I'm sorry for you.
You're a terrible person.
I know.
I just wanted you to know that I know that.
Well, know that I do.
Do you think you could ever love me?
I don't think so.
Because I'm not good enough.
It's not like that.
Because I'm not smart.
No.
Because you couldn't love me.
Because I couldn't love you.

LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH

no thanks. COS NICKLEBACK ARE GAY AND AREN'T SICK CUNTS AT ALL.

I've discovered,
I'm not very good with surprises.
Especially when i find myself casually turning around in mcdonalds to find myself faced with a cross dresser in a gold, shiny jacket wearing, what appeared to be upon closer inspection, black nailpolish.
Sometimes, its pretty damn cool to be living in Melbourne.

As a side note:

I hate you for making me constantly being on facebook in case you happen to be online.
You're inconveniencing my life, homie G.

Inside the Brain there lived a Dream that shot round like a Lazer Beam

I'm In Love




With someone I've never met.

V is not as cool as on the Ad's

went to glenferrie.
got a 50 cent cone.
found out tash has been 'playing tongue hockey' with some year 11.
got a free t-shirt from 7 eleven and thanked the lady profusely for giving it to me.
planning on wearing it tonight because I'm retarded like that.
saw an amazingly hot guy on the train who I had to hate because he was wearing a (brace yourselves) nickleback jumper. *shudders*
and now im at home, slowly and methodically widening the hole in my stockings, because this is what my life has been reduced to.

Bulumbo Shamanaka, bitches.

I don't say Bub because I'm not Retarded

I completed 2 things today.
I watched the sun set while eating mini cupcakes by the river, proving you don't have to be 'romantically involved' with whoever you are sitting with to 'roost there' by the yarra, and I finally finally finally saw the Tim Burton exhibition, which was like one big old slice of wow.
However, I just discovered I left my indo books in my locker, so I guess I won't be doing my homework.

I love how when you go to a friends house so often for so long it starts feeling like home.
Even though I'm still never going to learn where people keep the cups.
Screws me over, every single time.

I'm so hormonal

This music video made me cry for some reason.
Like, actually full on cry, not just like a little tear here and there to wetten the eye.
I'm not sure why.
But I just sort of sat in my room for like, 10 minutes, watching it over and over and crying awkwardly.
Old people and folk singing just get to me.
God, I'm such a weird romantic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-GH35-FDP8&feature=related

Please watch it, its the cutest thing you will ever see.

Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

I'm afraid to die because I don't want the world to keep on living without me.
It seems weird, that I'll just die and live the rest of eternity being dead and slowly disintegrating into the earth while people keep on going about their daily lives, buying flowers for their girlfriends or burning their toast in the morning, completely unaware that I'm no longer living amongst them.
They'll go to work, and flirt with the girl that gets coffees, and play the radio loud in the car, and I'll never know whats happening, and who's inventing what, and who said what to who, because I'll be too busy not existing.
Not that I want everyone to die with me when I die and civilization to end because I'm no longer there, just, it weirds me out.
Death doesn't seem real right now but its possibly the realest thing we have on this earth.
Its the one thing we can rely on to happen.
You live, and you die, and everyone grows old together, and then you create new people who go through the same process.
And all the while life floats along, creating new wars and new kinds of evil, and more exciting, expensive brands of cereal.
And thats pretty much the way of the world.

You put that evil back inside yourself

Sometimes i hate myself.
I don't like looking through your eyes.
Because that person is all wrong.

Most of all, I hate not being able to tell someone about... all of it.
Like, every little embarrassing, depressing, awkward thought I have.

I don't believe there exists a friendship in which you can tell someone anything at all, no matter how lame, or stupid, or disgusting.
That closeness doesn't exist.
Because everyone wants to seem cooler than they actually are.

Something funny

I don't really care about looks anymore.

I am in love with you and your voice.





I feel like putting a space between sentences makes things more dramatic.

Like you can pause to take it in.

And sort of reflect before you go on.

Like my thoughts are so deep you need spaces to pause for air.

Because otherwise you'll just drown in the deepness of it all.

Intense.

Couples Like To Glare At Me Because I'm Interrupting Their Couple-Ness

Lif-

10 things I discovered this weekend:

darren hanlon proved its the inside that counts
people can sustain a ridiculously high voice for quite a while when they get a shock
people walk dogs really late at night when all you want is privacy
sometimes, it looks like people are making out when theyre just sittin
there is an awesome couple out there somewhere that just about made my life who i will never see again
my brother has some pretty weird friends
i dont really like the football anymore.
wearing a tshirt and a tshirt with sleeves isnt the best idea for winter
my mums brand of cigarettes are really bad and 'don't taste like honey.'
camille is pretty cool.

Mary Anne

Is a stupid name.
Catalyst.
Is quite informative and interesting on occasion.
Lying down.
is really fun except when you're trying to sleep.
Inappropriate music.
I've found, isn't that inappropriate at all.
Legs.
Are my favourite part of peoples bodies.

Jimmy,
is gay.

Patriciaaaa the Striiiiiperrr

I like your beautiful soul.
Lol jks I'm not Jesse McCartney.

Fear is the only God

IN:
The "Im Judging You" Hand Motions
Being thirsty and then drinking water and not being thirsty
Micheal Cera- As always cos hes saaa cute and hot and sweet and we're secretly lovers
Ridiculously underpriced concerts by ridiculously cool bands
Tim Burton cos... yeah enough said hes awesome
You
OUT:
Maths
Results to Maths exams
Math Teachers
Anything to do with Maths
Starbursts that taste like lemons
Not being able to tell people things even though you want to
Screwdrivers

Is all the World Jails and Churches

When I was little, Annie seemed like the coolest movie ever.
Now, that little ranga kid just makes me want to blow something up.
Damnit she's ugly.
Pippy Longstockings is soooo much cooler.
And she has a monkey.
Beat That.

"Has the ooorrgannnn been tuneedddd?" :I

For a second I just got really excited that there's only one me in the world

I'm shit at sleeping lately.
I keep thinking and getting annoyed about constantly thinking.
Like I'll go off in this tangent about some weird scenario and then move on to another topic and then get annoyed and roll over and then start again and yeah it's annoying.
I'm awkwardly hyperactive. Like, actually hyperactive, not just haha you're so hypo. As in I shake slightly.. And pace. And can never sleep.
I wonder what would happen if I was on speed.
Wow I'm scared now.

Caught in a Landslide no escape from Reality

First day back.
It was pretty much exactly the same as it always was.
Except classes have changed.
And Tash is gone.
Awesome.
So um yeah. It'd be fun if something was different.
Normality is awfully normal.
And Carey is starting to really piss me off.
Mostly because English is pretty much my world and I have Mr Joyce as an English teacher and two shit looking English electives to choose from for next year.
Thanks for nurturing my creativity, guys.

Being a hippy suddenly sounds especially more appealing.
A stoned haze would at least make everything sufficiently pleasant.
And they're festivals are the shit.

We're as rebellious as Ferris Beullers evil cousin

LOOK ITS A CRAZY BABY.
this photo is too big for my liking

Hi.
I'm blogging to escape grandma, so I don't really have much relevant to say.
Today was funnn.
I suspect Friday will be even more so.
I mean, who can say no to free gigs and sneaking out at night?
Ynow a weird word? Calamari.
That's all.

Takk...

This album is fucking awesome.
There was no speaking in the first song, and i don't have a clue what they're saying in the others.
They sound like whales.
And I actually mean that as a compliment somehow.

HI IM A RANDOM SCOTTISH PERSON

lol jks, its just me, caitlin.
i changed the name of my blog!
cos ynow, I don't really think having a pleasant dream is a false comfort any more.
In fact, I might go as far to say I find pleasant dreams quite comforting.
now, i better make this blog legit by telling you where scotland is and giving you other useful tips.
SCOTLAND IS IN EUROPE!
a useful tip is, different manures work better on different plants. consult a gardener before deciding which manure is best for you!

i dont really like labels.
probably because i dont fit in to any of them.

*sorry for blogging so much today. its mostly because i have no life.

I call It Mindfucking

Oh, I forgot to say.
Get him to the Greek was ridiculously funny.
Even though beforehand I accidentally spent 10 minutes in the gay section at borders.
Please go and see it now, okay?

You know when you hear about someone and then you meet them? Thats happening now.

this morning, I woke up kissing a book by bill bryson.
wow.
intense.
i think i was checking to see if the book was real or if i was just seeing things.
but ynow, using my hands would have been cool too...

Wow. that was pretty much the most interesting thing that happened today.
i guess you could also say I had a bunnings moment. I decided to spray paint my tables and bookshelves with spray paint.
needless to say, it looks shit.
at least i got the spray paint though.

I wish that I was beautiful for you

I like buying snow cones you don't even want just because theres a hot guy at the counter serving people.
I like that I can't ice skate for shit and yet I assumed I would get on the rink and automatically be pro and graceful.
I like that the package arrived today and dad thinks it would be a good idea and i might get what I've dreamed of for months.
I like that I get whoever I'm with lost for at least half an hour until it's borderline not funny anymore, whether I'm in Myer or by the water at docklands, and generally lead people in the complete opposite direction.
I like that Darren Hanlon is playing for free at polyester records this friday night for all ages.
I don't like you.
And yet I do.
Maybe more than you could ever have imagined.

PIggy & Sushi - Coming soon to walls near you

Hey y'all.
I like documentaries about graffiti.
I also like the fact that I moved an extra bookcase into my room which I use for storing clothes.
I quite like my room now.
If I removed the scary 'lion witch and the wardrobe' type closet and disposed of the ugly brown wooden chest of drawers, it'd be near to how I imagined it when I decided to dispose of the inhumane amount of pink and return my prized, albeit lame possesions from the room under the stairs. (babooshca doll, obama bobble head, chinese stamp making thingy, spray painted mini elephant.)
I guess I finally decided to stop making my room follow a 'trend' I found cool at the time, (pink paris theme, black and white modern theme, grunge punk theme,) and instead made it follow my theme.
I like to call my theme 'caitlins class.'
Cos it's in a class of its own.
Yeah.
It's fun when you decide to be yourself.

Honey, I'm home!

"Have you head of Choking victim? They're fucking awesome man."
"Ughhh, no. I'm more into the folk classical thing."
What. The. Fuck.

So I'm back from Canberra.
It's weird cos when I was leaving I was actually all sad and not wanting to go.
I came into this week hating Canberra and thinking it was a hole and generally being annoyed, but now.
I don't know. I like Canberra. Or I like the people in it. Or something.
Who knows.

"while you sit on the toilet and let a small package be posted in to the water consider the starving dogs in uganda who would die for your package to be sent to them."

Guess i didn't realise how high I was.
Awkward because we thought we were so funny we posted this on Facebook and kinda ridiculously embarrassed ourselves.
I'd say 'you had to be there,' but I don't think it really would have made a difference.

Edwardo, Edwardo.

So it turns out i have an amazing superhero talent that I didn't even know existed.

I'm a marvel.

A genius.

I'm like the next superman or teenage mutant ninja turtle.

I am immune to bleach in my hair.

So if anyone tries to put blonde highlights in my hair, or turn my locks into a pretty golden colour, you've got another thing coming.

Everyone was astounded when I sat calmly for 30 minutes, waiting until I could look like jessica alba when her hair went blonde, to find, much to my horror, the same, mousy brown hair i always had. You should have seen the hairdressers face. It was like she'd found out her husband was planning to move to russia to become a gay stripper.

Anyway.

I'm planning to knit my superhero outfit as soon as possible, so I can get to work fighting crime as quickly as possible.

I can just imagine myself, rushing to evil hair dressers or distressed customers, and shouting in a brave, bold voice 'STOP! I'VE GOT THIS. I'M (pause for dramatic effect) HIGHLIGHT HERO GIRL!"

Stuff invisibility, my hair is magical.

MLINA

Just got back from dinner at a belgian beer bar.

interesting. the beer looked like medicine, and everyone was laughing and carrying on about 'a spoon full of sugar helping the medicine go down.' mary poppins really came through with the goods on that one.

conversation ranged from acapella mens singing groups to binge drinking and cocaine to working as a masseuse in a sex shop (suprisingly nice prostitutes came to get massages) to dogs having toilet training issues.

i sat at the end of the table, and managed to engage in pleasant conversation to a kind middle aged woman called wendy about her dogs spastic tendancies while also chattin about being found blind drunk on the lawn at 15, 'just staring at the moon' with the 'young hip' kids also at the end, who weren't kids anymore but weren't adults either. (ynow that fun, good age where you spend half the time pissed and the other half travelling, generally in europe.)

i also realised that as far as parents friends go, they're pretty cool.

i mean, anyone that can laugh over pedophile priests being busted for having child porn at school camps have to be at least moderately interesting.

or at least fun to quietly laugh at.

Clap Your Hands

Oh blow.

I shouldn't be allowed to go shopping. I just waste all this money and buy stupid, pointless things and get tired and sore and race around 'like a chicken with it's head chopped off,' for lack of a better description.

And in Canberra, it's like this evil shopping demon is unleashed inside of me and I become this scary, inhuman animal thing with horns and stuff.

LOLZ JKS BEB.

but seriously. I probably freaked Ellie out along with the rest of those crazy canberra kids.

i bought a jacket for 50 bucks. I didn't try it on. Turns out, it was a shitty jacket that didn't fit and it also cut off 3 quarters of the way down the arm. What a practical idea!

then I bought a pencil case for 40 bucks. 40 fucking bucks. cos it was from mimco and so expensive it had to be good. Great logic, dipshit.

and then, to top it all off, I got some crappy top from cotton on cos it was 15 bucks. yeah, cheap. cheap = fun. fun = good times.

oh well, at least I went to the movies too and got to see taylor lautner with his top off.

Granted, that meant I saw 'rob patz' too. With his weird, pained expression and inhumanly wide eyes. Which makes sense, since, ynow, he isn't human and all.

But it still makes me feel more than a little uncomfortable.

God save the Queen, she ain't no human being

Is it just me, or are like, 95% of the blogs on blogger religious nowadays?

Where did all these Christians come from? *shifty eyes*

And they say such weirdly radical stuff. Like, since it's the internet, they can say whatever God shit they want without people thinking they're crazy or whatever.

They're all like, I gave Mickey a bath tonight, I looked down on his beautiful God given face and thanked Jesus for blessing me with him. Praise god, for he is our saviour and will lead us out of evil sin to the land of a beautiful world where little Mickey will shine like gods angels.

Or words to that effect.

Well wanna know a little secret, christian blog people?

God isn't real. And God didn't create little Mickey, you and your husband did after having sex.

I know, the truth hurts.

Awksss

ABC- more like 'ayy, bc is good!'

I came up with that joke.

It'd be really funny if BC meant anything other than Jesus stuff.

..

Its relevant cos I watched Miss Marple on ABC tonight. Man, I'm lovin miss marple. She's so quietly smart, but you'd never realise since she's old and wears pleasant floppy grandmother hats. But then she manages to solve this massive murder with like, no clues other than the way someone wears a watch, or the way a painting is tilted. She's like an old Monk.

And it's set in the 1950's, so everyone wears attractively vintage clothes and talks in posh british accents that would sound gay if they were in the 2000's. But heres the awesome part, it's old times, so they don't sound gay at all, they just sound cute and hard to understand.

What fun.

Icelandic Bands are hot beb

Kayy, to start us off, if anyone else says, writes or even thinks about saying or writing the word beb, I will personally come to their house and kill them. I don't even like the use of babe, so when you alter it in a stupid, irritating way its like rubbing dirt into an already infected wound. Ew, I'm not liking that analogy. Seriously though, I will hurt anyone that uses beb with like, a sharp knife or a jagged pair of scissors or something. Its funny cos you can't tell if I'm joking.

Just as a heads up, I'm joking. Lolz jagged scissors never where my thang.

Anywayyy, hey hey, Iceland finally came through with the goods! In the form of good old fashioned music and a half. (the half is for the naked people they have on their album covers.)

I happen to believe foreign bands are particularly cool because you never know what they're saying. They could be preaching the word of some weird cult or reciting the alphabet and you wouldn't have a darned clue. Even when they speak English I often know bugger all about what they're saying. I've listened to Glasvegas, the Scottish band, like 20 times and they're accent continues to amuse and confuse good old me!

So listen to Sigur Ros. They're icelandish, or would be if that was a word. Yeah man, when I use italics, you know I'm serious. *serious face*

I like Thursdays the mostest

Who would have thought Canberra would be fun?

Today was good.

Found out Molly has possibly the coolest house I have ever seen and spent possibly too long watching MTV and excitedly disscussing the pros and cons of teen mom/parental control/date my mom and my super sweet 16. (date my mom is obviously the best and parental control has been harshly overexposed on television.)

Went into Civic with Molly's friends, still fun even though Civic was slightly underwhelming. Toy story 3 is indeed as awesome as everyone has been saying, except the end was kinda ridiculously corny and made me feel uncomfortable for some reason.

And then, to top it all off, I managed to gain 25 bucks from babysitting 3 random kids for an hour with Molly and Hughie. All I did was jump on their trampoline and play a game called Kingo that was obviously bingo in disguise with a different first letter. I mean seriously, we're not retards, people that make boardgames.

It's all a bit of a shame, cos there are so many cool people that I would enjoy spending a lot more time with if I could in Canberra, and yet, to put it mildly, it is a bit of a hole. Maybe its just cos Melbourne is so cool in comparison to everywhere else in the world. Cept' maybe London, cos they have such an amusingly large Ferris Wheel.

And who doesn't like Ferris Wheels?