I just stumbled across Dave's photo album which he is apparently maintaining for the duration of his worldwide trip. It's weird, I feel like he's a stranger, like I don't know him. Not that it's a great loss. Cool photos, anyway.

I can't believe the audacity of that sick fuck, Paul Denyer. In 1993, he brutally murdered three young women in Frankston. He was sentenced to serve three consecutive life sentences, with a 30-year non-parole period. And now he wants to have a sex change. He has admitted to hating women in general, and now he wants to be one? According to crime writer Paul B. Kidd, "It seemed that the only woman on earth that Denyer didn't hate was his lover Sharon Johnson, who had absolutely no knowledge of his murderous activities." That's fucked up. Anyway, the details are in this article from The Age.

I do bloody stupid things sometimes.

Oh. My. God. What the fuck? That was unexpected.

I have nothing against Indians. I think I should make this clear right from the start. I have worked with several, and found them to be no more or less objectionable than Australians. Some are nice, some are nasty, just like any other race. But this Indian guy who was my last call of the day today... was just a fucking prick. Whinging and bitching non-stop for 20 minutes. One of those bastards who asks questions and then talks over you while you're trying to answer. Saying the same thing over and over, as if I was suddenly going to realise I could actually turn back time, take his parcel, fly over to India with it, and deliver it personally!

Sometimes I find it hard to decide what I want. Particularly recently. One minute I think I want to find somebody new, then I change my mind and want to be alone, or maybe I want Jon back, or perhaps I should just chuck it all in and give up forever. The worst thing is, there are logical reasons for all of the above. How you do decide what's best, when the things that make sense contradict each other with different sense? When you're lying awake at night dying for some warmth in your bed, you want one thing. When you're having a great time with mates, you want another. Two months ago I knew exactly what I wanted, for once in my life. Now it's all thrown out of whack again. If a man can do that to me, perhaps it's best that I leave them alone for a while - a long while. Women too, I don't see why it would be any different with them. At least when I'm alone, I can fantasise. Hug Hmmrah the teddy and dream away. After all, the point of fantasies is that they don't disappoint. They don't leave. And they definately don't snore.

Tim Winton. If I could write like anybody I chose, I'd choose him and his Cloudstreet. I didn't appreciate it fully when I studied that book in highschool, although Mr Brown was such an awesome teacher it was easier to see it through his eyes. I started reading it again this morning, and I was blown away by the pure Australian-ness of it. The style, the setting. The characters, their dialogue... Most books are read with the head, it's rare to find one that I can read with my heart. But Cloudstreet does it to me like no other book. Other books have touched me, made me cry, made me feel, but Cloudstreet does it so effortlessly, so casually, I can't believe it. It has no pretentions. It's just a book, it almost says "Take me or leave me," with a shrug as if it doesn't matter. I'm getting carried away now. I think I'll just go and read it.

Quoteable Quote of the Day
Alex: I want my next girlfriend to be called Naomi... coz it's "I moan" backwards.

God, what a day. It sucked. It was long and boring, I had difficult and annoying customers, and I didn't have any chocolate. I just wanted to get home and punch something, and now I'm home I can't even be bothered punching anything. On the bright side, Boh got us tickets to see The Eagles in November.

I hate Sunday afternoons with nothing to do. They drag. Every minute feels like an hour, and every hour feels like hell.
Clinton said last night that he was going to give my email address to his friend Cathy, who's bisexual. I wasn't looking for a woman, but she looks and sounds cool. I'm hoping she contacts me. Quite frankly I'd take just about anyone right now, just for someone to be with, to be less utterly bored out of my brains.

There was this stupid dork of a fat kid at Box Hill train station this afternoon. He set a cigarette lighter so that the flame was massive, then he lit it and threw it onto the wooden seat... it sat there burning away, melting the plastic of the lighter itself and burning the paint and wood of the seat... it was burning for fully ten minutes before I went and bought a bottle of water and put it out. Dumb kid.

Had a bit of a shopping spree tonight! And why not, I did have a $50 Myer voucher to spend. So with that, and some of my own money, I went and bought pretty much all of life's essentials:

Pyjamas
A bottle of wine
Wine glasses
Books
A hamburger

So I'm set for the night!

I bought a tub. I filled it with warm water. And I'm soaking my feet in it. Mmmm, this is so nice!!!

Ok. Bugger sex, love, sleep, money, and food. What I need, what I really need... is a tub. A large tub that I could fill with warm soapy water and put my feet in. God, that would be heaven right now. Those bloody shoes were not meant for walking in... which leads me to wonder what the hell they were made for??? They're SHOES. You walk in shoes, that's what they do! Anyway. Had a good night, caught up with Chantell... we saw Harry Potter - yes, my second time in a week! I had free tickets and I didn't mind seeing it again. Fun night. But I'm tired now.

Tonight has been filled with contemplation of many things. Childhood, largely, and how things have changed. How I have changed. I was remembering when midnight was the Witching Hour - how influenced I must have been by Roald Dhal! I remember leaping from my bed, too afraid to land close in case the monster underneath should pounce out at me. They weren't all bad, the products of my imagination. There were joyful games in the daylight hours. But come midnight, and the world changed. Before midnight, the only thing to fear was my mother catching me reading under the covers with the torch. But as soon as that clock on my bedside table clicked over to 12:00 - torch off, eyes tightly shut, that world did not belong to me. It was the Witching Hour.

Now I sit up late discussing everything from... actually just discussing sex. That's all Torbjorn talks about. Which is fine. Fun, certainly. 4am is a late night, these days. Midnight is just another time to look at and think, "I should probably go to bed soon" and then sit up for another few hours.

Other contemplations have included me and men. I guess it all started with Mart. I still speak to him, he has a daughter these days. She looks like him. Mart was a chronic liar. He probably still is. He doesn't mean anything by it, it's not his intention to hurt people. He just can't help lying all the time, about everything. He's a very deep and incredibly gentle man, his feelings for those close to him are genuine and intense. He has lost a lot in his life, suffered a lot - or so he tells me. But of course, he's a liar. That lasted about two years, I think. Anyway, the next one was Elliott. Lovely little guy, the only guy younger than me that I've ever dated. But he got freaked out when he found out I was bisexual. That was it with Elliott - only lasted three months. He was pretty intense - when we'd been together for two weeks he said "I'd like to marry you someday, if all goes well". That freaked me out. Now I think of it, El was in between Mart. We broke up, then there was El, then I was back with Mart. After that I told myself I'd never go back again. I was wrong, because then came Dave, with whom I also broke up twice. Dave was pretty much the First Everything with a guy. (Previously there had been some experimentation with Tammy, when we were about twelve.) I thought I'd found real love with Dave, I lost my virginity to him, I moved in with him. And gradually it fell apart, as it was bound to do. He wasn't right for me - too dull, quite frankly. Two and a half years I wasted before figuring that out. Then there came Jon. Well, if you read this bloody blog regularly, you know about Jon. I won't go into detail.

Then there are the ones who were just flings, not relationships at all. Daniel in early highschool, Warren in the "in between Dave" time, and later on there was Paul.

You're probably wondering why I'm writing all this. That's ok. So am I. No reason, I guess. It passes the time. It's kind of weird to look back on them all, especially Mart. I learnt a lot about life from him. I remember feeling so mature when I turned 15. Now I think 15 is incredibly young, and I must have been bloody stupid to let myself get tied down into what I thought was a serious relationship at that age. But I must admit, it was either that or become another small-town slut and be pregnant by age 16.

Anyway, here I am again, on my own. I'm 21 years old, and my heart has been broken (yes, cliche, I know) at least three times now, possibly four. It's a little worrying how soon I forget how I felt at certain times in my life. I remember being literally suicidal the first time Mart dumped me - but it was probably just attention seeking or something. I would have been at least as upset the second time, too. The first time Dave and I broke up was pretty bad. The second time, well, by that stage it meant nothing anymore. I have absolutely no recollection of breaking up with El or how I felt about it. Complete blank.

My sudden and unexpected rush of words has dried up. There's nothing more inside me. No words anyway. Plenty of obscure, disconnected thoughts. Myriads of emotions. But nothing I can type.

What a boring weekend, except for Saturday with Amanda. Sunday and Monday felt like the "long dark teatime of the soul". Forty-eight hours of 3pm Sunday. It was rather a relief to go back to work today, and actually be doing something! Needless to say, I feel a lot happier now! It's always good to catch up with folks, and hear about their great and busy weekends. Nice to know someone had fun!

Boh mentioned that he saw Alisa at Mudbash. Damian spent the whole three days on a basketball court. Marina was at her other job and doing some study. Tash went out and got maggotted - twice. I have no idea what Shauny did, he barely spoke to me all day for some reason. And Howard's scored himself more leave, the lucky bastard, so he wasn't in.

Last night was a really weird night. I went to bed at maybe 12.30 or 1am. I tossed and turned, and barely slept. I vaguely remember getting up a few times, getting back on the computer and doing shit. I clearly remember my legs itching like all hell. I think I had about three or four hours of actual sleep, and I kept dreaming of yatchs and ships and the sea. Cool.

The most amazing feeling in the world is falling in love. I've done it twice... and, I confess, almost a third time. Almost. It's a good thing I don't read trashy romance novels, or I'd be going insane at the number of "tall dark and handsome" men around (apparently) that I just don't meet! But watching TV/DVD's is more than enough. How come Laura Gibson's got an ex-husband still panting over her, Diver Dan head over heels, and now she's scored Max as well?! Even Miranda has her little fling with the fire-twirling guy, Felix. And me, I'm just back to being lonely again. After Dave, I somehow just stopped thinking about it. I wanted to be on my own, finding myself, doing my own thing. I was happy that way. But I don't feel that way this time.

I loved you; even now I may confess,
Some embers of my love their fire retain;
But do not let it cause you more distress,
I do not want to sadden you again.
Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly
With pangs the jealous and the timid know;
So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,
I pray God grant another love you so.
-Alexander Pushkin

The more of his work I read, the more I like it. Something in his words seems to speak to me, and I feel I understand the thoughts behind the words.

Things change so quickly online. I have come to regard anything more than a couple of months old as "ancient, don't bother me with that crap"... for instance, this bullshit, the chats between "bloodninja" and several other people... never mind, I'm sure you've seen it a million times before. A mate just sent me the link. I was like, "Get over it, it was funny sometime last year!"

Ahhh, today was a nice day. Went into Box Hill to see Kay the herbalist/accupuncturist, that was nice as usual - although he did put a needle in my lip, which was odd. Then I caught up with Amanda, had a bit of a girl's day (something I don't do very often!), went shopping and gossiped. That was fun. I love talking to Amanda... or rather, listening to Amanda! All I need to say is the occasional "Yeah... I know..." and she just keeps talking. It's excellent.
Anyway, I'm home now, and a little bit tired... all that walking around Box Hill Central is quite exhausting!

I remember having very odd dreams last night, but I don't remember what they were. There was something about coins in my wallet being in the wrong place, and I have vague memories of a train... but that's all. Weird.

Phew, what a day. And night. We had a massive ongoing feast all day at work today, in honour of the Queen's Birthday... ok, I confess, we just wanted an excuse for a feast. Then I went out tonight with Dom and Emma, dinner and the new Harry Potter movie, which was hilarious. Then I got home and Amanda called me to tell me, among other things, that she's just had an abortion. I didn't even know she was pregnant! But it was Jason's baby, and he'll be going back to Pakistan soon... I don't blame her at all, sometimes abortion is a necessary thing - I know what I'd do if I got pregnant now!

Just caught up with Andrew - the usual dinner and movie. Sounds like a bloody date! He's always very cheering. Chantell emailed me at work today, she wants to catch up next Wednesday. I think she had a reason for it, or something to do, but I forget what it was. This Friday I'm going out with Dom, Emma, and apparently some other people too. I forget who. I think Louise was mentioned. Saturday is the herbalist again. Sunday and Monday, blessed days off with nothing to do! Gotta love them public holidays.

God I'm lonely. I'd give just about anything to have someone to hold.

There are three TV events that I remember bawling over with my mum back in Longwood East. Two were from SeaChange: Diver Dan leaving Pearl Bay, and Elena dying. The other was from Heartbeat, when Nick's wife Kate died. Yes, we watched far too much ABC in those days. But they were good shows. They were good days.

I thought you had forgotten, heart,
Your ability to suffer pain.
That easy gift would come, I thought,
No more again! No more again!
Gone were the raptures and the griefs
And the dreams you half-believed. . .
But now I know, while beauty lives
so long will live my power to grieve.
-Alexander Pushkin

What would I do without my sweet Chantell? She's lent me the first two seasons of SeaChange on DVD, I'm watching it now... the episode where Dan leaves just finished. It's so sad. I remember when it was first on TV, mum and I both cried. It's even more bittersweet now, with my own memories and experience reinforcing the effect. God damn, I hate crying. I'll have to watch the next episode, which is funny!

I'm considering writing a comedy. Life in a call centre. Or possibly "Fantasies of Life In a Call Centre" - all the things we wish we could say to customers. My problem is this: I am a good writer, I can string words together and make interesting sentences. But I am not a good thinker, I can't come up with plots and plans and structures. That is why everything I attempt to write is doomed to failure.

I am back from Euroa, and I feel cleansed in mind and soul. I never laugh so much as when I am with my father, and I never feel so much compassion as I do from my mother. It's been good for me, and now I am well.

The Paul Kelly concert was tonight, and what a night it was. Very cool.

Anyway, too tired to write much. But let it be known that all is grand!

Well I'm going up to Euroa for the weekend. Just going to chill out for a while, relax, do nothing, and cry on mum's shoulder - I've missed doing that. It'll be good to get away from things... and people. Boh keeps offering to drive me up, or drive me back... he doesn't understand that the point is solitude. "Me" time. And some "Mum and I" time. Funny how mothers always make things better... she's been doing it for me for 21 years now.

Must stop sending SMS's to Jon. And thinking about him. And talking about him. And even dreaming about him, for god's sake. Must accept the fact that it's over. Despite the way every bone in my body tells me that this is wrong. It's right for him, it seems. Somewhere deep in my subconscious, I am actually still thinking of him as being "mine" - he's just... "gone away for a while". It's like what parents tell small children when a pet dies. Gone to a better place. In other words, it's stupid and I have to stop it.

Michael had his court case today, he was hoping for a deferment or dismissal or something... instead he's on a two-year good behaviour bond with a $500 fine. Poor chap, he ain't too happy, especially as he has to pay $2000 in legal fees as well.

Thank god it's Friday. I couldn't have taken another day of that bullshit. I got best True Calls and Best Overall for May - only because I hate the customers so much I try to get them off the phone as quickly as I can. Nothing to do with being good at my job! Still, looks good on paper.

Oh my god!!! Boh got tickets to see Paul Kelly!!! This Sunday. I don't even know where. But it's gonna be so awesome!!! Just yesterday we were both complaining that we couldn't afford to go and see him. And then Boh reckons I need cheering up, so he goes and gets tickets anyway!!! So I got this voicemail on my phone saying "I've got a bit of a problem and I hope you can help me solve it when we see Paul Kelly on Sunday" and I call him and I'm like "WHAT??!?!?!! AWESOME, YOU ROCK!!!" and so forth!!! This is so cool!!! Except now I think I owe him a concert - I paid for Deep Purple and The Who, he paid for Meatloaf... oh, and Paul Kelly. It seems we're square. Excellent!!!

I've barely slept the last few nights. I keep having dreams and then waking up at all hours, believing the dreams for a moment before I realise it wasn't real. I keep dreaming of conversations with Jon, and every time he says something I wake up wondering what it means, before remembering that the entire conversation was a product of my subconcious mind. I woke up at least four times last night, and probably more than that the night before. I feel very female at the moment...

Well I think I'm ok today. It's hard to tell. I mean, my chest feels constricted and my head hurts, but I'm not crying. I'm laughing quite a lot, in fact. Defense mechanism, possibly. I'm also having disturbing daydreams of Jon asking me to take him back - but they never get any further than him asking, I can't see what I answer. I don't know what I'd answer, if it ever happened, which it probably won't anyway so it's a moot point.

I wonder if garbage trucks were specifically designed to be loud and wake people up? They're just too good at it for it to be an accident!

Self Affirmation

I am a friendly happy person with a cheerful disposition and an optimistic lookout. I am cute and sexy. I have a great sense of humour. I am tolerant, forgiving, and I perve on chicks. There is nothing wrong with me at all.

Jon is the one missing out. Michael says he's a gutless wonder and a shmuck. Behk says he's a poo-head. Wayne says I deserve much better. My mum said all of the above. Carla said there's a million better guys out there and I'll find the one for me someday, and she reminds me how young I am.

I like Dom's theory of the RDZ - Rebound Danger Zone. He reckons that for every month of the relationship, the RDZ is extended by approximately a week. For instance, after a six-month relationship, the danger of getting into a relationship that ends up being only a rebound lasts for six weeks after your break-up. It's not entirely accurate, it's all approximations... but he reckons it's not a bad guide. Let me see - Dave and I were together for 30 months. So that's a 30-week RDZ. About seven and a half months. Well, it's been seven months since we broke up now, I think. I'm well out of the RDZ, I know that... so Dom's theory isn't quite right in my case, but that was an unfair example... I was pretty much over Dave within two weeks of the break-up, and didn't want any further relationships at all for a long time, whether they be rebounds or not. In Jon's case... four years... that's 48 months. A twelve-month RDZ. I should have known it was too soon. If anybody's to blame... well, I guess we both are, a little. I do feel mislead... but perhaps I let that happen to myself. I should have been more cautious. I guess I'll just add him to the list of "Stace's Failures" and move on... I wonder what my next fuck-up will be.