look! It's a monkey in a suit riding a goat.

(via BoingBoing)

dear man in the elevator,

you don't need to dash across to bang on the 'close door' button. by the time you make it over there and press on the button, the doors will start closing anyway.

informatively,

elaine

an idle thought

i don't think it's just facebook that's been responsible for my lack of blogging.



it's bloody google reader. i lost the sense of community i felt from doing the daily rounds and made it a less instant way for me to talk to you. i had to really feel het up enough to follow three links. aren't i lazy!

Transactions

So I don't think I've ever made a secret of the fact that I've spent time on a pscychologist's couch. I've also seen an otolaryngologist and a myotherapist.

One of the things we talked about was relationships. It seemed that I was, actually, doing it wrong. That I needed to start acting in a more transactional manner; I do this for you, you do that for me. If you stop doing things then I do too. That I should ask you to do things for me that it's easier to do myself just to keep the scales balanced.

This seemed, to me, so cold. But I can be good at following instructions, if I choose to be. So I did. Instead of feeling cared for and respected I felt nothing. Then I felt disgust.

I tried again. And the only thing that grew from those initial good feelings was the opposite.

And again. Nothing.

Now, after one more conversation, I think I understand. There is only one transaction. The rest is putting up with your demands and your crap whilst occasionally picking a fight to make you feel that I'm not. Then, one day, if I'm lucky, you might be generous enough to 'give me a baby'.

Those exact words. "I don't know what she gets out of it but one day I'll give her a baby"

It's nice to know my 'choices'.

untitled

Get over it.

(open in a new window or tab to view ful sized, Graphic by Robert Corr)

'Boat people' are not the communist hordes sweeping down from Russia to take over Australia.

oops that was the reason behind the Vietnam War.

There are not hundreds of thousands of 'boat people' coming to invade our country and destroy our way of life. (however, if by 'destroy it is meant 'make wonderful contributions to our culture and society' then I'm ALL FOR 'EM).

on the dampening of toes.

i feel weird about this dipping my toe in the blogging water thing.

but, well hi!

i feel like there's a lot been goin' on. in all the nooks and crannies of my life. it has to make its way to the outside somehow.

i'm kicking ass at work, but i'm working hard too. and its noticed by people, you know. and i made it there through the midst of having to try hard to keep my mental health in check. it's not easy, sometimes, for me. but i won this round. hurrah &etc.

i went to morocco. and had an astounding experience. the place. the people. the land itself. i got fucking rained on in the middle of the Sahara desert. i almost posted a picture of myself to prove it but i'm too vain to post the only one i've got (it's SO DORKY). it was surreal. and super fun. i feel relaxed travelling in Islamic countries, the ones i've been so far, anyway. that's one reason i find myself choosing to travel there, i guess.

instead you get this shot taken in the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. pretty, no?

and you may like to know that street art exists everywhere. even in Essaouira, a gorgeous town on the Atlantic coast. i strolled along the beach there and in the old fortified city, arm-in-arm with a terribly handsome man. we feasted on seafood caught off the beach and drank copious quantities of coffee and mint tea.

and now i am home. with new dreams in my heart to shield me from the cold.