Cool MSN 7.0 chats with my bro keep me sane on an otherwise mind-numbing monday night.
Put two acrimoniously melancholic, stressed out people together and you get whacked-out, batty, yet strangely therapeutic conversations.
Can’t wait for friday night southbanklimebreezehangoutsession.
“I don’t think we’re wired to love unconditionally? Cos we get hurt when we love and we’re not loved back.
Also obviously I am super biased, but I still think it is HARDER for a girl to love without expecting anything back. Maybe it is due to the perception that girls need to be shown love more, it’s harder for the girl to give and give and give seemingly without receiving in return, whereas the guy has this.. umm.. need to be the provider?”
krys on 30 May 2005 at 08:15
It has been a melancholic, iwanttohitsomethingorsomeone day.
That said, taking a walk to the library and meeting wen and kai was a breath of fresh air…literally.
While searching for books in the library, the eye often stumbles upon weirdamusing titles. In the brief ten minutes among the 305.1 and 306 books, I found:
- The Social Meaning of Midwifery
- Paris Sewers and Sewermen
- “Whaling Will Never Do For Me”
- Good and Mad Women
- Damned Whores and God’s Police
Brings academic work to a whole new level.
- a surprise wedding invitation at the hilton from andrewandhuijeen.
- a three day extension for an essay due to university muck up. bless melbourne uni incompetence.
- pretty redyelloworange gerberas and jumpityjumpjump froghoppers (ages three and up)
- chicken curry tonight.
- vanilla persimmons
- sock hunting.
there is no point going to the gym
and then guffing half a box of honeyoatcereal thereafter.
oh siiiiigh.
championsofeurope.
A certain Kapten owes me dinner and three hundred bucks. 
in the chaos that is me, help me be still
and know
that when the oceans rise and thunders roar
i will soar with you above the storm
and remember
that you are king over the flood
and find
soul-rest under your wing
a melancholic entropy
of
pendulous mood swings
and
lachrymose gloomies
lately, all i’ve been doing is feeling grumpysadgrumpysad. and there is no one i can go to for a hug/gripe/whine/trampolinejump because everyone is busy with work. i should be too but it is hard being morose and productive at the same time.
i want to crawl under a blankey, blog-rant and wish for roadtripsdoublechocpuddingandspecialdancesontoes.
For all aspiring, but too-poor-to-get-turn-table dj’s:
mix it up in the mixulator.
bubblesoap is an a w e s o m e site.
***
I have an incomplete gothic horror essay that’s sucking the life out of me. But writing about vampiric cinematography at 115am may not be such a hot idea. Adherence to work may induce nightmares.
Now, ain’t that a bloody good excuse?
My apartment is bereft of chocolate. I’ve had to live without pure, rich, dark Dove for almost a week. In the absence of decadent Dove, I’ve had to subject my tastebuds to a variety of bleahpuh-tooi! substitutes. Cheap, more-sugar-than-choc easter eggs from last easter, WHITE chocolate (gasp!), expired cadbury flake, cooking chocolate and m&m’s.
I have been tempted to a) steal my housemate’s tiny tube of cadbury milk chocs lying prettily in the fridge b) brainwash eddie into thinking his nestle rum n’raisin has expired and must therefore be thrown away c) eat nutella (that would mean stealing from the aforementioned housemate again)
I have had enough of this nonsense.
Today, I WILL go to safeway.
And buy four blocks of Dove. Anyone who stands in my way will, I promise you, not have feeling in their right foot for a long, long while.
BLUARRRGGGH!
There’s nothing like quietly chamomile tea, a romantic Serendipity screening and a late night, ohsocute, me-to-you bear delivery to soothe a grumpyjumpytummy.
