You Are A Radar Detector

LIKES:

-Coffee (same old same old I know)
And I still don't care what you think.


Moving House (albeit my friends moving house)
HUZZAH. My wonderful friend B has a new apartment just off Sydney Rd. It's next to a park, a relatively good size, and close to uni and the city and EVERYTHING. I fully intend to turn up unexpectedly often and eat haloumi pie from a Lebanese bakery down the road.


Octopodes and Jellyfish
Paul the octopus won my heart. What can I say?
Oh, and also, my friend K and I had an argument about the correct plural expression of "octopus". Turns out we were both wrong: it's "octopodes". The more you know.


Glitter
"The herpes of the art world."


Pictures of New York City
I would go there, and live in a tiny apartment in Manhattan, and sit on my roof and drink coffee and eat bagels and ZOMG.


Dancing
All credit for this picture must go to the magnificent Andrew Coles, whose photos you can see here:
http://blog.adnrew.com/


Anything made of lace, slips.
I now own so many slips that I have broken a coat hanger. I shit you not.


Pretending I'm in a videoclip while on a train.
Shut up. You do it too. It's full of whimsy and niceness.


Pictures of people smoking.
I know, I know, it's bad for you, but LOOK HOW DEBONAIR THEY LOOK. JUST LOOK.


Pandas.


Flirting.
So what I've decided is: flirting is good for everyone.


DISLIKES:

Distance.
It fucking sucks.


Cold Weather.
God how I miss summer. So much. I hate winter. It makes me (more) bitter, and frustrated, and, mostly, cold.


Running out of holidays
UNI UNI SIGH SIGH


Clumsiness
I broke my flute again. I now hate everything.


xx

There Will Be No Miracles Here.

old letter.

Brainy, brainy, brainy.

Hello and welcome to the cold, silent nothingness that has become this blog.
I can see the tumbleweed rolling lazily past.

I am sorry about how dead it is around here at the moment. I think I can speak for all of us at Everyone is Mental, when I say that DEAR GOD I AM SO BUSY I AM DYING WHY DO EXAMS EXIST HALP HALP HALP.
I have at least one subject that I am seriously worrying about passing.
And I am looking down the barrel of at least four hours flute practise a day for the next three weeks.
FOUR HOURS, YOU GUYS. FOUR. Think about it. Let's say I get approx. 8 hours sleep a night. I spend 16 hours awake. A QUARTER OF THAT TIME IS TAKEN UP PLAYING FLUTE. A QUARTER. EVERY DAY. And that doesn't include other homework.
LIFE IS PAIN AND SUFFERING.
Oh well.
But on the upside, I fully intend to get more than four hours sleep tonight, WHOO. This is a New and Awesome Thing for Me.

Anyway, so I've noticed a new and disturbing trend lately. In myself. Because I am a self-obsessed whore beast. or. Whatever.
The thing is, I have this problem with opposites at the moment. Specifically, I have this thing where I go and do something stupid, or create a problem, or something bad happens, and thus I go to someone to ask advice. The conversation goes something like this:

Anna: "So [insert general issue of some variety] happened, OH GOD HOW DO I FIX IT WHAT DO I DO OH GOD HALP."
Friend: "[Insert entirely logical, rational and helpful suggestion]."
Anna:"Yeah, you're right, that's a really good idea, I'll do that, thank you! *Goes and does the exact opposite of what was suggested."
REPEAT AS NECESSARY.

It's like being in a washing machine. A REALLY FUCKING STUPID TURBULENT WASHING MACHINE WHICH I DELIBERATELY PUT MYSELF IN REPEATEDLY.
And I am not sure why. I keep trying to work it out. But I have drawn no conclusions.
One idea is that I'm exceptionally impatient, and usually the logical solution to a problem takes patience, and persistence, and shit that I'm not really good at. I also really suck at following things through. My friend T had lunch with me the other day, and watching me eat, pointed out that I left a tiny bit of every piece of food that I ate. The corner of a sandwich, I'd eaten a ring around my apple, two crackers in a packet... I DID THAT WITH EVERYTHING. I EVEN DO THAT WITH CUPS OF TEA AND COFFEE. Thus, T drew the conclusion that I have some sort of complex and a deep-seated inability to finish anything I start. He probably makes a fairly valid point, but WHATEVER T, I DON'T NEED YOUR OPINIONS OR RATIONAL ADVICE ANYWA---oh, wait a second.

Oh well. Like Theodore Deschanel tells me, at least I'll have stories when I'm older.

ANYWAY. I am so tired I think my eyes will fall out, and I have several hours of homeworky goodness to get through tomorrow, so, I bid you adieu with some pretty pictures of procrastination.

Anna xx

Fuuuuuuuuuuu

Comedowns make everything shhhiiiiittttttttt.

That is all internets.

Hands In The Ground.

If you're gone before I'm there
And your yellowing walls appear
Beneath scrubbed, greying sheets
Look inside and see
If you can't believe it's me
Hiding out beneath eiderdown skies
You are so hard to deceive
Forget everything...

Go outside to virgin ground
And dig a hole and bury my hands
In the soil
'Cause I don't like how I'm feeling.

If you can shake your head
And break through shadowy walls of sleep
Draw the blinds above your bed
And try hard to see
Through your windows into the street
At little patches of ironed down lawn
It is so hard to believe
You can do anything...

I don't know why my friends are
So strung out
Everybody's on their backs
And I don't know if they're sleeping
Go outside to virgin ground
And dig a hole and bury my hands
In the soil
'Cause I don't like how I'm feeling.

Pitter Patter Goes My Heart

Hey you. I'm getting away for a while this week. After a bad weekend, I can feel my stress levels gradually rising. So I've spent most of this weekend collecting pretty pictures to share with you. Sorry this post is the same old thing. But it's some nice escapism, and I hope you like it.
I'm off to Canberra with some mad friends of mine, brb.
Have a good week.
Love you like a fat kid loves cake.
Anna xx