heystasa: (Mary (well... close enough))


LKDFZFBN /JADLFKB VLKC BLDM BA YOU GUYS YOU GUYS YOU GUYS JOY JOY JOY I CAN'T EVEN  \O/ \O/ \O/

I HAVE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS DAY FOR SO LONG

LIKE LITERALLY, I ONCE HAD A DREAM ABOUT PINEAPPLE CHOCOLATE EXISTING

AND I'VE BEEN RANTING EVEN LONGER

CADBURY, I SAID, Y U NO PINEAPPLE?? IT IS THE VERY BEST THING YOU MAKE, Y U NO MAKE IT IT'S OWN THING??

BUT THEN I WALKED PAST A CO-WORKERS DESK, AND THERE IT WAS. I HAD NEVER TALKED TO THIS PERSON BEFORE, BUT WE BONDED OVER CHOCOLATE. SHE GAVE ME A ROW, AND THUS TODAY WAS A PERFECT DAY, FOR PINEAPPLE CHOCOLATE EXISTED

I JUST DROVE HALF WAY ACROSS THE CITY TO GO TO THE SHOP SHE FOUND IT IN (BECAUSE WHAT IF THE CLOSER SHOPS DIDN'T HAVE IT? I WASN'T GOING A MINUTE LONGER IN THIS WORLD WITHOUT PINEAPPLE CHOCOLATE THAN I NEEDED TO). TO THE DODGY SIDE OF TOWN, THAT I DON'T KNOW MY WAY AROUND AND AM PROBABLY LUCKY NOT TO HAVE BEEN ROBBED IN

BOUGHT THREE PACKETS

AM CONSIDERING OFFERING CADBURY FIRST BORN IN EXCHANGE FOR LIFETIME SUPPLY

I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY
  
heystasa: (batman)


What the fuck.

What the fecking fecking feck.

I bought a little block of Cadbury Snack earlier, and have just eaten some, only to discover something awful.

There are no pineapple pieces.

What. The. Feck.

I only buy Snack for the pineapple. The pineapple is the best flavour. I love the pineapple. Where is the freaking pineapple?

It's on the label, still. Right in the middle, even. It's the one the glasses are pouring milk into, for pity's sake.

"With six delicious flavours" the label says. Maybe they cut out a flavour to make the rows symetrical, so they could be three on three, like, and there's still pineapple in the big blocks. But why sacrifice the pineapple? Why not the orange or the coconut or something? Or even the fecking caramel? People can at least buy a block of caramel to make up for it - we pineapple lovers (ie, everyone) have no alternatives.

I am quite distressed. I was looking forward to my pineapple. Cadbury have crossed a line. Anyone want to form a resistance movement?


heystasa: (piggy - fangirl)
WHY DO I NEVER HAVE ANY CHOCOLATE IN THE HOUSE??!


And if anyone says, 'because then you over-indulge and feel sick and fat and horrible and sulk around the house and then whinge about it on LJ' I will glare at you, because that is not the point and your snooty poopy dopey pants logic is not welcome here, thankyou very much.

After Merlin I shall go out and buy chocolate. My Mum just left, and (though, okay so I'm not actually that cut up about it, given we had a lovely weekend and I'll see her in just a couple of weeks when I go home for StuVac, but hey, it's a more legitamate excuse than "I want's SWEETS!") that means I desire comfort food.


And after that, I am going to watch Bronski and Bernstein. Which I love ridiculously, and is entirely responsible for my bizarre crush on German, and is so cute and fun and, yeah, okay, joyously embraces the hoyay at every oppurtunity, and is just ashkjd;bivcwonderful, I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU, and I haven't seen it in... what, four years? But now have on video (eeeeeeeeeeeee!), thanks to the immensly awesome and lovely [livejournal.com profile] mcicioni, and will soon have copied to DVD so I may treasure it forever.

I expect the B&B will be a recurring theme on this LJ from now on. Probably accompanied by capslocking.

*goes off to cuddle her shiny new videos in front of one of her favourite episodes of Merlin, and waits for that bit that makes her explode into laughter. You know the one. With the sweating and the yelling that reminds anyone who's been in slash fandom too long of a very specific bodilly happening. Yeah. That one.*
 
Today is a good day.


heystasa: (Default)

Arg, I'm drinking milo and it's just all floated up to the top, the bastard! Why I felt the need to have milo at ten to twelve at night is beyond me, by the way. Especially after having had three lamingtons and a slice of chocolate cake already today.

Anyway. Have been terribly neglectful of the flist lately, am very sorry to say. So: Hi, all! How's things? Hope you are all well.  :)


Valentines Day
Got my first ever Valentines gift on Saturday: they were selling roses at B-bong races, and Lucy bought me one. I love my sister. She's such a goose sometimes. My only Valentines card ever was also from her a few years ago. She made it herself with a bit of paper and a set of connect-a-pens.

B-bong Races
Speaking of the races - won $11 in the first race! A little gray mare that surged forward in the last few seconds to make a beautiful win. In the second race, my horse ran last, for god's sake, it's not like I have cash to burn here - and in the third, it came second. Second. Gambling is hard, man. I don't think it's for me - I don't like not knowing which horse will win, which is probably a bit of an issue.

The Joyes of Fashion
Mum ended up coming to the races in the end, so did Grandma, Uncle J, and Cousin J2. Lucy and co. were also there, with Cousin M and Cousin L. I was terribly proud of our collective race fashions. For example, Grandma was sporting a very fetching bright orange rain poncho that blew excitingly in the wind, and Lucy's friend S, a large bodied young lady, was wearing a tiny pink coconut bikini over her shirt. When asked about her attire, S replied, "they barely even cover me nipples!"

AKA, The Rat
Cousin L is thirteen and looked stunning, damn her. M and I told her it was ridiculous. We didn't look that good at thirteen and she jolly well shouldn't either. She should be fat and dumpy with acne and ill-fitted clothing, not fantastically dressed with great hair, walking so naturally in heels you'd think she was born in them.

L is wonderful. She's the youngest girl in that side of the family, so we've sort of molded her in our image. She's like a mixture of the best parts of me, Lucy, M, and Cousin A. So, essentially, she is insane, hilarious, confident, into footy, enjoys confusing people, tough, loves a good faux stalk, can fangirl with the best of them, has a large range of exaggerated and extremely silly facial expressions for every situation, is a complete camera whore and total poser, has seen some of the best movies and weird English comedies around, and has a love of clothes and other pretty things that would intimidate lesser men. And she worships the four of us blindly.

One day we will use her to take over the world, somehow. Muha.

Uh, Stream of Consciousness?
I fucking love Quick-Eze. TAKE THAT, inexplicable spontaneous anxiety pain/indigestion!

Amusing Anecdote Time
SPEAKING OF CLOTHES. I have a lot of them. I'm not a shopaholic or anything, I just like pretty things and never have the heart to throw anything away. My wardrobe (which is, to be fair, very small) is overflowing onto the floor, and I have two full suitcases of stuff in the sunroom waiting to go back to Sydney. Even M thinks I have a lot of stuff, and she is a shopping fiend. You can't see her floor for all the clothes she has strewn everywhere. I plan on having a big ruthless clean out before Uni, but I doubt it'll make a dent.

That, however, is not the point. The point is: STORY TIME.

So M is going through my cupboard to help me pick a dress for the races.

"I love all your clothes, Stell, they're so pretty. Oh, is this one of those dresses that looks like a shirt?"

"Probably just a shirt. I used to wear button ups to schoo-"

M has pulled the long-sleeved white shirt from the cupboard and is holding it up. "Okay, definitely not a dress." She is laughing.

"Oh my god, I have never seen that before in my life."

"And it's a man's shirt." A size 37, to be precise. "Was it Ben's, maybe?" My brother had had the room before me. M and I are both giggling in surprise.

"If it is I have no idea how it managed to hide in my cupboard for five years without me ever seeing it. Where did that come from?! I wore button ups to school in year 11 and 12, but they were all three quarter sleeved and for women. I have no memory of ever buying that!

"... The only thing I can think of is that, I have a bit of a thing for men in white buttoned up shirts. Maybe I bought it thinking that, if ever I do get a boyfriend, he'll need one of those in order to keep me."

M is cacking herself. "It's a very specific size, Stell!"

"I know, right?! Maybe I have like a weird subconscious thing for very tiny, skinny men? Which totally goes against everything my taste has ever told me. Where did that come from?!"

The Siblings
Yesterday I made two cakes and a cobloaf, and spent three hours making Lucy the bestest birthday card ever. Ben came over while I was making it, and made me sign it from him too, as a part of his plan for Lucy not to notice he hadn't gotten her a gift ("N's the one who remembers that sort of thing!" N, who has been in Dubbo hospital for the past two weeks with their newborn twins and a flu) until after he had left. He took great joy in playing with my gold texta, and nagged subtly until Mum made him a sandwich. Then he squashed my head and I scratched him.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my twenty seven year old big brother and role model.

Lucy's barbeque was probably the most subdued 18th party ever. She and all her friends were knackered after the races, and everyone was gone by 9:30. This is not a bad thing; we had a great time and the barbie was a resounding success (ain't no sausage like a barbequed sausage), but it was funny watching Lucy have to be awake and entertaining people when her usual routine after being out all night is to sleep on the couch and growl at anyone who watches telly too loud.

Effing arseing bastard Back of doom update
The old lumbar vertabrae are feeling much better now. Much thanks and love for the kindness when it was bad, guys. It really does mean a lot. ♥

Kicked out update
Oh, by the way, I have a new flat!

... Weeeell, I say new, but...

Here's the thing: Turned out I didn't get the huge one in Glebe, and when we thought about it, the one I did get was sort of unsuitable - no carspace, no balcony, no internal laundry (I enjoy doing laundry. Laundrettes are not my thing), the kitchen was just one wall of the lounge room, the rent was a bit steep, etc. Separately, I could deal with a lot of those things, but together, it's a bit much. So, after finding little that was suitable in Glebe, we rang my old agent, and she offered me a place in my old building.

I did want a change, but it turns out all I will have to adapt to will be being two floors down and having a different coloured carpet.

It will be freshly carpeted and painted, but has no curtains or wardrobe, and there's a shower curtain instead of a screen (NNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!). It does come with a washer and dryer though, so I won't have to rent them, and, presumably, this time the dryer won't be in the bedroom.

HOWEVER. One thing that is giving me pause: apparently, the carpet is brown. Now, it may turn out to be perfectly lovely, but, for now, I am disturbed. What on earth am I going to do with a brown carpet?! Nothing looks good with brown. My furniture looked so good with my old blue carpet. I don't know how I shall cope with the challenge of trying to put together a nice loungeroom with a brown carpet, of all things.

Excuse me while I let out a world-weary sigh.

heystasa: (Default)
WHY DOES MY BREAD ALWAYS GET MOULDY?

I normally try to freeze it before it gets that bad, but still. I have wasted an awful lot of money on bread that I didn't get to eat before it turned WHITE AND GREEN AND FURRY.

HOW CAN I HAVE A LATE NIGHT TOAST IF THERE IS ALWAYS MOULD ON THE FREAKING BREAD?

Aw, nuts to it, I'm gonna eat saos and watch my new (cheapest price I've found yet - yay for closing down sales!) Gilmore Girls DVDs.

Saos are more awesome than bread anyway. So nyer!


heystasa: (Default)
 THE LID HAS GONE BACK ON THE NUTELLA JAR AND THERE IT SHALL STAY. 

Uuuuuuuuugh. I feel crook. Why do I suck so much at moderation?


Also, on a less vomit-related note; living in a suburb with three second-hand book shops within a five minute walk? Bliss.


... I'll be over there. Curled up in a little ball. Groaning. With my new old books and my teddy.  
heystasa: (Fran awake)
 So I'm sitting here drinking strawberry milk (which is like alcohol, in a sense, if you're me and can get drunk on air) and half watching Black Books, and I just realised I have both feet crammed into one slipper. 

I own a great many slippers. Two in fact. The other one is under the table and I'm too cold to move and too busy cackling at everything to actually do anything.

Yesterday I made a bacon bone soup, which tastes ohmygodsoamazing, and have discovered that apparently it takes me about four hours more than it should to cook soup. This time it was because I forgot the dried soup mix for the first three hours of boiling. I thought it was strangely thin, then figured out why and had to wait another couple of hours until everything was actually cooked. And the really silly part is that this happened last time too. Along with many, many other ridiculous soup making incidents.

 



heystasa: (Default)

1. I can't stop eating these Mars filled Pods things. I buy them thinking I'll ration them as treats, but then I just munch on them constantly. I have no self control. Damn seductive caramel.

2. I have to get seriously working on my Games and Simulation assessment. I am making a text adventure game. It is set in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. There are Oopa Loompas. It is a group project and we've got it quite nicely planned out. All I have to do is start coding my part. IT WILL BE EASY AND FUN BUT I AM STILL PUTTING IT OFF. WHY DO I DO THIS???

Dear Brain,
                    Can we please stop with the anxiety? It will be very difficult for me to pass my courses if a great whopping wall of terror is erected every time I contemplate doing an assessment. I actually really enjoyed the last essay I wrote, you know. And do you remember all that pride when I handed it in on time? Wasn't that nice? Don't you want that again? Come on, kiddo, let's get adjusting. That's how you're supposed to work.


3. My flat needs vacuuming, I could make up a load of washing, and there are clothes flung everywhere. Clean up day soon, YAY! 
I loves domestic chores. They makes me feel real. And it's nice to see the floor. I have such a nice floor.

4. So, last night (as well as having a lovely night out with a friend at Circular Quay for a birthday dinner) I actually met someone from fandom in real life! Am not the only insane HP slash fangirl in Australia! Look, look, I have proof! Muhaha!! And I have made a new LJ friend! Hiiiii!! *waves enthusicastically* Will do proper greetings and exchanging of recs etc when I have taken care of point 2.  Must... do... uniwork. It-will-be-fun, dammit!

5. Have to cook tonight. I refuse to have toast or cereal for tea and I've run out of left overs. Which means I have to wash pots. Curses.

6. My god this album. It's amazing. It flows and crashes and screams and whimpers and settles and brakes and falls and lifts and it's impossible not to go with it. He has the most honest voice - more like speaking than singing, and all the while trying not to fall to pieces, filled with cracks and strange little screams - and the most sweet, exposed, and devastatingly lovely lyrics. ('The world's got me dizzy again/ you'd think after twenty-two years I'd be used to the spin,'  'It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live,'  'This is the first day of my life,/ Glad I didn't die before I met you.' ) 

The songs - lyrics and music - are so beautifully complex, even the deceptively quiet ones. There is a real simplicity to what he sings about, he doesn't romanticise, but sings about things at a very basic level, creating such honesty. It's like, he's describing things as they are, as they actually feel, but somehow it sounds so breathtaking. And the music cascades in from nothing, crashes down and sweeps through or is so silent you forget it's there, you can only focus on his voice. That sort of honesty and reality is so rare and precious.  It's impossible not to be affected. 

The closest thing I can think to compare it to is The Cure - Robert Smith has that same stuttering honesty in his voice, and that same childishness and wonder in his lyrics, and that same cascading lushesness in some of his music. In fact, the stereo is set so that Disintegration is the next album to play after Bright Eyes finishes. 'Plain Song' is a perfect way to follow up I'm Wide Awake..., it too, never fails to be stunning.

7. I'm always pinning after my pets, wishing I could take them with me to Sydney. I am acquainted with all the neighbourhood cats, and am sure to say hello when I pass them. So my mummy made me a cat so I wouldn't be lonely.


I love my Mum.

I had a moment the other morning, lying in bed, just about to wake up. I thought to myself, it's feels like I've barely seen anyone (my family) the past few days. Will have to spend some time wth them today. But then I opened my eyes and remembered. I actually hadn't seen them for the past few days at all, because Easter was over and I was back at uni again. I felt so dissapointed. I really wanted to see them. But then I woke up, and got on with things, and laughed at how easilly I'd gotten mixed up. 

I'm fine, really I am. But it's hard sometimes, getting used to not having them around. That morning, filled with sleep, I really missed them. Sometimes I just really want for them. 


August 2012

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