UGH

Oct. 11th, 2011 01:22 pm
overocea: (Default)
WRITING RESEARCH REPORTS IS BULLSHIT. why THE FUCK would I ever want to do a PHD JESUS CHRIST.

10% done. kill me.

This is from one of the articles I am reading for my literature review:
A longitudinal study found that mental disorders pose a risk for involvement in abusive relationships among both sexes and were a source of mental disorders among women but not among men.
WHAT? Am I going insane? Has my reading comprehension been abducted by aliens? Didn't they just claim that mental disorders, as well as being a risk factor for abusive relationships, are also a source of MENTAL DISORDERS? WTF, AUTHORS?

overocea: (Default)
I just read through some of my notes from health psychology to try and find a word synonymous with 'pathogen' that I'd been trying to recall the past day spent wracked with the worst allergic reaction of all my lives. "It's like invader," I'd say. An antagonistic, er, aggressive, perhaps metaphorical description of a foreign body. Antigen. Alien. Illegal immigrant... I just couldn't recall. Well, I found it; it was foreign invader. How disappointing. I had remembered the term without knowing it. I thought it was better though.

Anyway I continued reading my lecture notes after finding the reference, for fun, and am smiling at some of my descriptions.. how I interpreted things so I could make sense of and remember them. "Macrophages (big chompers making up 5% of phagocytes) are totally the best; while phagocytes eat up pathogens, macrophages take a taste of the pathogen's shape, then race through the entire body screeching for the lymphocytes that match that shape so it can tell them we need more, morrrrre of these specialised chompers! Tcells and Bcells galore!"

I remember imagining little chomping phagocytes and big chomping macrophages, like different species of pacmen, racing through my body with little detectors that go BING when they identify delicious non-self foreign invaders. CHOMP

There is also a drawing of a spinal cord with a picket fence style literal pain gate. & got an HD, betch.

I wrote a lot of quite enormous papers that are really rather good. I'm tempted to use one for a current project I am overdue on and haven't started yet... but can't. It would be so easy! but I can't do it. haha. idiot.

honour

Dec. 13th, 2006 08:28 pm
overocea: (Default)
So, so, so.

My thesis was returned recently; oh the excitement. Only it didn't include the final grade, just the markers' comments. All well and good, exceedingly helpful remarks ("The results are presented in a way that makes them reasonably comprehensible," and "The discussion largely does its job." WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?), but I wanna know what I got, dammit!

After emailing the honours course convenor in a politely outraged manner, I received this:
I'm afraid we are no longer allowed to give out thesis marks! But I can tell you that both your markers gave you a mark in the First class range, so you got a clear First for your thesis. Examiners who see a thesis as First class do seem reluctant to give high marks, though, so the marks are generally in the low 80's. With your coursework marks, this means that you got a *very* high IIA honours degree overall. Congratulations.
I am unreasonably disappointed. An overall Second Class A is good. I can't imagine I would have ever expected to get a First... but I got one for my thesis! Oh oh oh, it's unbelievable, and it makes me think I should have one overall. Particularly since she had to specify that it was very high; how close I was, by how little I missed out.

Ah. The absurd things that flatten me. Like cherry lollipops not tasting even remotely of cherries. Damn you, world.

In any case, I graduate on Friday.
overocea: (Default)
Things to do once I've finished my degree, TUESDAY!
  • Buy that $240 skirt I SIMPLY MUST HAVE IT despite its $240ness.
  • Breed my prettie crowntail fighters so they have lots of prettie crowntail fighter babies.
  • Go to Ikea to buy a cabinet to build a superduper penthouse for my rattie Bean.
    • Find Bean a rattie friend!
      • I'm watching him try to haul a whole slice of bread into his cage. OMG THE CUTENESS
  • FIND SOMEWHERE TO LIVE that isn't $300 a week for just little old me. and my million pets. I would like to stay in or near Coorparoo, or a not-frightfully-expensive inner West somewhere. Or anywhere near public transport, I guess.
  • Visit Cairns for Sarah-bear's birthday.
  • Learn to drive! Maybe.
  • Make a new webdesign site.
  • Dye my hair some outgrageously funn colour.
  • Go to Lab4 & Critical Mass & Earthcore & Cat Empire! yay!
  • Get stoned and have zombie boardgame & movie night with [livejournal.com profile] bird_e and as many people we can con into coming. yay X 8sideways!

anyway. back to my last ever assignment:

This disorder has been found to be relatively resistant to treatment, which is thought to be due to the ego syntonic nature of its characteristics. The traits which are targeted for change are so pervasive and unconscious that the patient usually does not see them as a problem, and instead will place the blame on external sources. As a result of this, patients rarely present voluntarily for treatment, instead usually being treated involuntarily, having been referred by an employer, family member or, most often, the courts. They therefore generally lack motivation to change as well as insight into the need to change. Further, psychotherapy is based on a therapeutic alliance with the therapist, in which an empathic and trusting interpersonal connection is critical. Such a relationship is difficult to establish with a patient who is dishonest, lacking in empathy and exhibits only shallow affect and intimacy. Thus few psychotherapies have been found to be effective in treating the disorder.

GUESS WHICH DISORDER, THE WINNAR GETS A PREYEZE.

overocea: (all the sights)
If I can fervently drink his tears, wrote Jean Genet, why not the so limpid drop on the end of his nose? To this we can reply: first that nasal secretions are not so limpid as tears. They are more like treacle than water. When a thick rheum oozes from the eye it is no more apt for poetry than nasal rheum. But admittedly clear, fast-running tears are the stuff of romantic poetry: they do not defile. This is partly because tears are naturally pre-empted by the symbolism of washing. Tears are like rivers of moving water. They purify, cleanse, bathe the eyes, so how can they pollute?
-- Mary Douglas, Purity and danger: An analysis of the concepts of pollution and taboo, p. 125.

in other news, i've one week to write 75% of my dissertation.
YAY.
overocea: (can_t sleep)
hallo internets. I have a question for you.

I am writing my social psychology essay. it is an academic paper, so is meant to be dry and humourless.

however I've no other way to describe Contact Hypothesis but as "a lumbering fog-monster."

I love the lecturer of this class, and am reasonably sure he likes me just fine. plus he has a great sense of humour.

it is fourth/honours year level, so he can safely assume I have sufficiently shown my dry, humourless academic prowess throughout my undergrad career. and, since this is much less significant than, say, my thesis, or even a postgrad essay, surely he can appreciate my creeping ever-so-slightly out of the usual format of description.

right? so come on. tell me I can leave it as is and will get 50 A+s, yay.

also, will McDonald's cease advertising with Channel 10 as a result of their airing of Supersize Me? haha. we shall see.

also, my userinfo page has been given a virtual gift. THANKS, ANONYMOUS!
overocea: (dared)
out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
and I eat men like air


so! classes start this week.
...prompting the cessation of thought.

every now and then I become overwhelmed with the desire to cut everyone I know out my life. and everyone I don't. but I think I adore everyone I don't know a little bit more. like when strawberries taste like dust. teeny tiny flakes of skin and dead cockroach.

fairy floss & fairy bread
sulci and gyri
myopic rods and blue cones
prop open my spinal gateway

I am terrified of my own sclera

ain't it funny, that
pale-faced captivation could be
coupled with a bleak mouth, funereal
silence.


like when people on ICQ expect me to answer their black&white "wanna chat?"s

past creations generally have this talent for making me cringe. sometimes I can bring myself to recreate them.



the most adorable thing in the world is a yawning numbat. if you ever see it you'll know instantly why.

I made my nanna a website. get married. it is fun.

I can't pay my rent. I should be slightly concerned. instead I sway and giggle.
modest mouse make me smile.

edit: when Felon stalks geckos and sparrows and houseflies she does this very weird vibratey thing with her mouth. i've never seen any other cat do it (and i've seen lots of stalky cats). I call it rattling. well I shriek it rattling. I mean it fills me with so much glee to see her do it because it's so cute that I scream "she's rattling!!"

anyway? I just learned it has a name, and an evolutionary explanation! I am slightly thrilled.

k, it's 4am, if i'm not asleep within the hour i'll suffocate myself to get there, dammit.
overocea: (i'm an unbutterflie girl)
so i'm wondering what the fuck is up with drycleaners lovingly caressing muculent looking stains? it's not like it could possibly be anything anyone would want to touch.

me: *dumps a pile of disgusting clothes on the bench*
little old drycleaner lady: *goes through them till she finds the most disgusting article of the lot* oh, look, stains! what happened here, then? *picks at an encrusted glob of goop*
me: ... hello? THAT'S VOMIT.
little old drycleaner lady: *yanks hand away in horror* oh! okay then. well, what about this? this isn't vomit! *pick pick pick*
me: um, yeah. THAT'S SEMEN.

meanwhile, a mystery someone just ordered me a paid-for surprise pizza, yay! MUAH!

no doubt to enforce a break during mad-essay writing. ahh. well i've just started (thus the livejournaling...). it was due yesterday, but Sarah & Hawkins stopped to visit on their way to the snow, and ended up distracting me for two whole days. and last night i'd the worst hayfever evar. I went miserably to bed at 8:pm, forestalling all my plans of intoxicated wonder :<

SHE FLOATED ON AIR LIKE THE CREST OF A WAVE

oh, essay, yes yes. i'm not sleeping till it's done.
overocea: (dared)
omg Wednesday Addams pony!
but if I spend any more money I shall die. DIE.

and yes. yes, I should be working on a health psychology paper right now. so?! isn't posting on various forums and downloading every episode of Elfen Lied in existence and taking naked pictures and phone-gossipping for hours on end about which lecturers slept with which students and twirling 'round&round to the Howling Bells JUST AS IMPORTANT i'd like to know? HUH?!

*resumes twirling*
overocea: (Default)
still waking up with permanence at 4am or earlier, despite th time AT WHICH I go to bed. but it's gorgeous, earliest morning, when even witches are dead to th world. i've coffee, crunchynut cornflakes, wrapped in a blanket under a heater with ren&stimpy, my house glowing from every eye. I feel lucky. I feel i've promise.

4hours later: I feel an idiot. I vaguely recalled one of my thesis group mentioning we were meeting at 9am rather than 11. so am at uni, on time, except that was LAST WEEK. we DID meet at 9. and this week we are meeting as usual at 11. sigh.

3hours later: what is wrong with me today? I feel so dissatisfied. I feel wrong. I feel lonely. I want desperately to bump into someone I know. I want to gorge. I want to drink. I want to smoke. I want to fuck. I want to run. I don't know what I want.. but it's something. and right now. I want it.

ugh! i'm so frustrated. dissatisfied. wrong.
I could leap out my skin.
I could scream out my lungs.
I feel like I need to be saved.

p.s. waking up in the early hours unable to go back to sleep is a SYMPTOM OF DEPRESSION.

4hours later: I must think of him more than he thinks of me.
perhaps.

I don't know! because, well.. he couldn't guess how often I think of him. so.. I can't.. guess...

on the surface, uh, from an alien point of view, it would seem he thinks of me. more. most of our contact is him-initiated.
but that's true of my contact with anyone!
it's just so often..

but I can't guess how often he thinks of me.
I hope it's heaps.

this isn't healthy.
I seem to have a habit for unhealthy relationships.

but this one!.. confuses me.
I have to stop thinking about it.

livejournal addendum: if you're one of the many! who could be reading this thinking it may be about you: i'll never te-ell.

I just realised how many! of you could have thought. wow. i'm in a lot of unhealthy relationships at the moment! yay! and I love you all. :D

lol I suck.
overocea: (follow my fishie)
for some reason I just can't work at home. i've been meaning to write my counselling paper for a week... but. need to meet a friend at uni tomorrow in hopes of motivating each other to at least start. since it is due in <2days. but i'm not worried because.. I have hold of someone's same paper from last year. hurrah!

I am terrible, yes.

so today! well I woke at 4am and never did get back to sleep, lay in frustrated freezingness despite two doonas, three blankets & two cats.

previously had had a disturbing dream about a friend of mine in which she cleaned my house while dressed in a provocative bunnie costume consisting of a fuzz-tailed g-string. & floppy ears, of course. I don't think I will tell her about it.

was horribly bored by my choice of outfits, so thought I would wear a hat. but in the box labelled "hats" I found only wigs. so? wore a wig:



"you have no idea how many looks you're getting," said James.
"sure I do. I just wish they wouldn't pretend like they weren't."

because every time I looked at someone I found them looking at me,
UNTIL I LOOKED AT THEM and their eyes sped in every other direction.

I was accused of having a foundation for everything of apathy, and an avoidant attachment style (positive self, negative other).
so? my outsight is 20/20.
overocea: (Default)
today was a highly unusual day.

I have always really liked to be on my own. i've decided many times that i'm best on my own, and am thus meant to be so. I only seem to deeply think when alone, and to be creative, and to be myself.

well i'm on my own for the first time in around a year & a half. and i'm not used to it.
i've been craving alone-time for months, and now? i'm bored. i'm lonely.

me! lonely!
why, it's absurd!

in fact after a weekend of moping I only just admitted it today, when, after my 9am class, I found I didn't want to go home. to my lonely home.
so I didn't. instead I spent NINE HOURS
at uni, simply sitting and talking to semi-friends.

and had some very enlightening conversations.

Anjali reports that I stand out because of my blackness, after I told her I wear black so i'll be invisible. I think it was the most honest answer i've ever given to "so why do you always wear black?" yet.

James reports that I am MACHO. I was horrified.
he didn't say that. he said I have many masculine qualities, e.g. a huge protective shield I never let down, etc, that he figures I modelled after a macho male in my early life. this is because I am apparently hiding my devastation at breaking up with Dennis. come to think of it, Dennis also pointed out that my lack of devastation was male-like. hmm.

Liz reports that Anais is a frightful role model. and I realised it's true. but I can't help it! she thrills me so. she makes me think she's me. (she has masculine qualities too!)

a girl whose name I never processed so couldn't remember if I tried (I seem to never be listening when people tell me their names) reports that I am possibly the only person doing honours who hasn't begun writing their introduction. hello? I haven't even begun researching it!

she also asked me to live in Italy with her. I can't wait!

so I am feeling hopeful. tomorrow I think I will go into the city and take many pictures.

crack out

Nov. 16th, 2004 11:27 am
overocea: (andromeda)
I get spams with subjects like "they're light-minded," "his closed eyelids," "the moonlight melted," "his confidence will ooze out if this situation does not olden," "satisfy blackburn denotative as any necrotic a nobody," "It's a fine aggregation, I assure you" and "skip the solid earth, and land lower down than I intended."

well, I did make them slightly prettier.

eyes perpetually squinted shut against the blast of sight
oh &! mouth perpetually open, just in case. well closing it may mean preventing the escape of some lovely utterance.
just in case I blow out.

I am studying. I am.
overocea: (I feel mightie)
whilst researching my criminology essay I frequently come across:
psychopathy, the term forensic psychology uses to refer to something almost the equivalent to antisocial personality disorder; put simply, someone with no remorse, empathy or conscience.

conscience!
1. The awareness of a moral or ethical aspect to one's conduct together with the urge to prefer right over wrong.
2. A source of moral or ethical judgment or pronouncement.
3. Conformity to one's own sense of right conduct.

definitions of words thoroughly confuse me, because words seem far more than their literal meanings. my dictionary would have at least two pages per word.

conscience. of course it is difficult in a world of a thousand various forms of parent per person to not have grown up to know the difference between right and wrong, the consequences of them both and the collective one's preference between the two. thus when choosing between right and wrong, justifications aside, one almost invariably knows which is which!
the knowledge alone can't be conscience, as psychopaths know what is wrong, they just choose wrong anyway.

are remorse, guilt, shame, pity, empathy, moral outrage! self-disgust/reproach, et cetera part of conscience?
if you know to murder is wrong, yet feel no shame, remorse or empathy and commit it anyway, you've no conscience. obvious.
if you know murder is wrong, yet would feel shame, remorse or empathy and commit it anyway... your conscience is a pussy and your id reigns supreme.

if you know murder is wrong, yet would feel no shame, remorse or empathy, yet do not commit it because you know it's wrong?
overocea: (Default)
i'd look at the calendar & see "psych exam" written on it & think: it's okay, got a whole week to study yet.
then, a day before the exam, I thought: it's okay, got all of tomorrow morning to study.
so I woke up at 8am this morning & started studying, absorbed a horrendously huge amount of information in four hours, & now the exam is over.
I feel like I should be more relieved. & do you know what else? I have a 5 day weekend. 5 days, baby.
although I do have 3 papers due within the next 2or3 weeks, & haven't started any of them, but it's okay, 'cause I have 2or3 weeks to start yet.



people-said things today, minus the haircut related ones:

library boy: hey, do you know where the psychology journals are?
me: no.
library boy: oh. I saw you over there and so thought you must be after them.
me: no. I was after Other journals.
library boy: oh.

library lady: excuse me, but can you stop doing that? the flash is probably disturbing people.
me: can I take your picture?
library lady: no. no more pictures, okay?
me: okay.
(I was bored. obviously.)

refectory girl, to counter boy: can I get a sausage roll?
counter boy, to refectory girl: yeah, but next time get it yourself. they're self serve.
refectory girl, to me, next in line: oh, does that open up at the front?
me: yes.
refectory girl, embarrassed: you can tell I come here often, huh?
me: polite chuckles.

denise, in psychology tutorial: how many points did you put?
me: 5.
denise: really? wow. I think only, like, two people put 5.
me: yeah. I figured everyone else would get greedy.
denise: laughs.
(regarding a social dilemma ballot. if 4 or less people put 15 points and everyone else puts 5 points, everyone gets their chosen points. if more than 4 people put 15 points, no one gets any points. no one got any points.)

computer lab girl: hi, is anyone using this? (the computer next to the one I was on.)
me: no, I don't think so.

bus stop boy: looking forward to the weekend?
me: it starts now, so I don't have to.
bus stop boy: oh, yeah, if you're waiting for the bus I guess that's true.
me: I just had an exam..
bus stop boy interrupts me: uh, yeah. I think I was there.
me: oh. you take psychology?
bus stop boy: yes, and, um, i'm in your tutorial. I even know your name.
me: oh. sorry. I never remember anyone.
*brief silence*
bus stop boy: are you waiting for the city bus?
me: no. but it went already.
bus stop boy: oh, shit!
me: laughs.

I think the above constitutes everything i've said aloud to-day.
heavenly creatures is a darling movie.
overocea: (posturing)


my sociology tutor is a funny man (a general, whatever that is. how awful it must be to be called "general." hi there, general! wassup?) going bald much too young. I am apparently the only student in my class whom he knows by name, thus he is constantly calling on me to give my opinion on whatever current social issue we're supposed to be discussing at the time.

the last one was the workforce. would society function without a labour division?
"yes," every one collectively answered on cue. "sure it would. why not?" of course, because even mentioning the fact that the labour division exists is so not PC.
"Jessica?" he said, "I know I seem to be picking on you, but you always seem to have an opinion."
ONLY 'CAUSE YOU ALWAYS ASK ME. I CAN'T EXACTLY SAY NOTHING BECAUSE YOU'LL REMEMBER ME NO MATTER WHAT I SAY & IF I SAY NOTHING YOU'LL REMEMBER THAT & FAIL ME. "it's a stupid question," I said.
he barked a mixture of a laugh and an incredulous "huh?!"
I recalled the time the topic was education, and he asked why females consistently do better in primary and secondary schooling than males & I answered "because girls are smarter." he uttered the same discordant then (YES, I KNOW IT'S AN ADJECTIVE), before insisting I elaborate, at which I think I shrugged & looked away, disgusted with myself and him.
so this time I obliged: "you couldn't have no labour division. one sort of person is good at and likes one type of job, another type of person likes another. upper class people are groomed for certain jobs, lower class people with less education take what they can get. it wouldn't work any other way. even if you tried to eradicate it, it would naturally creep on back because it's just the way we are. thus, the question is stupid."

I actually said that. do you think I would say anything even remotely like that outside of a sociology tutorial? I can't bear the terms class or division. I don't believe in them & it's because of them I don't believe in or WANT society at all.
nothing depresses me as much as sociology. I have an essay due in a few weeks & the topic is "does race determine intelligence?" OH. MY. GOD. oh my god.

and it is expressly preferred that we do NOT bring up the war. I can just imagine. I don't care what is going on because it does not affect me. saddam hussein is an evil man. war is necessary. weapons of mass destruction. THAT IS ALL CHANNEL 10 HAS TOLD ME SO THAT IS ALL THERE IS.

so i'm still disgusted with myself. and miserable. and lonely. i'm sure they're all related.
can't believe I admitted any of them
overocea: (Default)
This, pretty much word for word, is my train of thought on the 7:20 2A bus this morning:

I spend $2.70 per day on the bus
($1.35 each way, because there's no such thing as a student return ticket),
4 days per week.
Plus a $7 24 hour beaches pass to go into the city for groceries.
That's $17.80 per week on the bus.

How much does the average Australian student spend per week on petrol? More or less?

Of course, you'd have to deduct for the added freedom and comfort a car brings, not that the bus is uncomfortable, but being alone is always preferable to being accompanied by strangers who are sometimes loud and/or smelly. Then, too, you'd have to add for the additional atmospheric pollution an extra car on the road would contribute, as well as my inexplicable fear of driving and likelihood of 759364920 accidents per day, which I suppose would decrease the longer I'd been driving. And certainly you'd have to add for the initial cost of the car, as well as insurance, registration and maintenance, not to mention lost reading time, for I'm pretty sure you can't simultaneously read and drive.

*ten million hearts in place of ellipses*

This, pretty much word for word, is my train of thought in my 3-5pm Psych lecture:

I really need to take a picture of this theatre as full as it is now. I'm sitting three rows from the back, way up the top, and can still read, all the way down the front, on one of those puny little blackboards, that some supreme being has written:

if you read this
your gay


Um, hello? Isn't a University traditionally meant to be populated by, if not intelligent, then educated people, who at least have a grasp on basic grammar?

Not only that, the lecturer is talking about Freud's sex and child development theories. I'm not far from three girls with bleached hair, tank tops and diet pepsi who groan and shudder dramatically every time she says "vagina," burst out laughing at every mention of "penis envy," and who have said "ewww, this is soooo disgusting," about 999999 times.

*ten million farts in place of ellipses*

I know my word for word trains of thought because I wrote them down at the time in my wrinkly all-purpose notebook, which, as soon as it's full, will be left... somewhere. Do you know how thrilled I'd be to find some stranger's all-purpose notebook in a long-vacated library booth, park bench, bus stop or trampled, muddy roadside?

Anyway, my initial purpose in posting was to tell you all to take this personality quiz. It was given to my psych class two weeks ago, and we got the results back today, which were simply grand. Your results will also be grand. Here is a conditional that proves it:

If P then Q
P
Therefore, Q

P = take quiz
Q = results grand
overocea: (follow my fishie)


I had two lectures in a row in the same theatre yesterday, so after the first one ended and everyone swarmed towards the two tiny doors at the front I sat and waited for the next one to begin. There is a ten-minute gap between classes. The girl behind me did the same. Ten minutes later a handful of people had drifted in one by one and were waiting. Five minutes into what was supposed to have been a sociology lecture the girl behind me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "This is SY1001, isn't it?" I had tilted my head back to look at her upside down but still managed to nod. After another five minutes I took out my timetable to check, because lecturers are never late, but the lecture was there. The right theatre, the right time. I sat and stared at the timetable for another five minutes until I noticed that this particular lecture was only scheduled for week 19, when the rest were scheduled for weeks 8-21. I turned around and shouted (which, for me, involves talking above a mumble) "does anyone have a timetable?" No one did. So I told them there was no lecture and walked out, feeling REALLY STUPID, but that's okay because everyone else there was stupid too, and at least I thought to PRINT OUT A TIMETABLE.



The other week/month Lila was vomiting all over the place. As soon as she ate she'd puke a billion times, and instead of jumping all over me and attempting to rip my face off every time I went outside she'd just lie there for an hour & then docilely amble over & put her head on my foot. So I took her to the vet. The vet probed her in 50 different ways & said he couldn't feel any obstructions & had she had all her shots? Has she eaten anything strange? "She eats everything strange," I said, she eats EVERYTHING. I PICK TICKS OFF HER AND THROW THEM AWAY AND SHE FUCKING EATS THEM. And then I remembered that two days before, she'd picked up a huge chunk of plastic wrap while I was walking her and swallowed it whole. So he was all "well take her home & don't feed her & if she's still sick tomorrow we'll have to gut her which is heapsnexpensive." And then I forgot my PIN while paying by EFTPOS, but anyway she got better. The next day she ate a whole dead decomposing stinky WORMY BIRD, FEATHERS, FEET, BEAK & ALL.

Then, another day, I was on the esplanade and I thought I saw some strange girl walking her, which is totally weird because she's a freaky looking mongrel. So I finally realised it was some other dog who just looked like Lila, & I jumped up & ran over & said "what kinda dog is that?" and she smiled patronisingly and said "it's a husky cross rottweiler," like she got asked all the time, because I GET ASKED ALL THE TIME when walking Lila 'cause she looks like a husky & then like a doberman & then like an alsation. Anyway, I said "omfg! I have the same dog!" and she was like "oooo!" and I said "did you get him from Cairns Central?" and she said "No, we got him from the owners 'cause we knew them but they did take the rest to Cairns Central." and I was all "Wow! I have your dog's sister!" So we compared their personalities, and WHY DID I HAVE TO GET THE MANIAC FREAKAZOID ONE? Hers was all quiet and nice. But he looked more like a rottweiler than Lila does, which is uglier, 'cause her face is all pointy and nice.

Chloe is my other dog & she's a big fat border collie & is lovelie & perfect except she likes to attack little kids who pat her, & she once ripped open my neighbour's leg as he dived into the pool, which wasn't her fault 'cause she's a SHEEPDOG & it's INSTINCT for her to chase diving things.



THINGS I REMEMBER FROM BEING SEVEN:
- Getting the newly-painted-pink second-hand bike for my birthday and dad taking me to the football oval to learn to ride it.
- Having the kiddie train carriage behind me jacknife & land on my head & then being rushed to hospital while yelling "no I don't wanna go I wanna ride the train again!"
- Staying out in the playground with my friends after the end-of-lunch bell until our teacher came looking for us and lined us up the front of the classroom and told us to bend over so he could wack us on the butt with his big black-board ruler BUT HE ONLY PRETENDED TO WACK US.
- Mumm giving me my first Enid Blyton book which was "The Enchanted Wood" and since then I'VE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE.
- The evil babysitter who gave us dry toast and water as a snack and let her daughter beat us up and then yelled at us for complaining about it.
- My dad coming home drunk from a policeman's party at which he won a meat platter in a raffle and he left the meat platter out on the porch all night long and when mumm & my sister & I came home from visiting my nanna we found the meat platter there all rotten with flies.
- Going fishing on the ocean with my friend Michelle with the curly white hair & her big brother, & I caught a shark, & the brother said "it's only a baby, throw it back," and I said no! I caught it it's mine! and the rest of the day every time the boat rocked I thought it was the mother shark coming to attack us & save her baby.
- I used to stuff the sandwiches my mumm made me for lunch under my bed, & I came home one day & there was a huge grey rat lying dead at the front door, & dad said "I found that under your bed eating those mouldy sandwiches" & ever since then I've had a fear of rats under my bed so I would never put my feet down in case the rats bit them.

My parents got divorced when I was nine, and I was happy.

GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT REALLY PISS ME OFF:
- When people say "might of" rather than "might have."
- When people use "whom" just to use it because hardly anyone knows how to use it and they want to seem like they know how to use it. HERE'S A TRICK SO YOU KNOW WHEN TO USE IT, IT'S EASY: Use "who" when it goes with "he," and "whom" when it goes with "him." For example: He is speaking and Who is speaking go together, and To whom am I speaking and To him am I speaking/I am speaking to him go together. GET IT? IT'S NOT THAT HARD IS IT?
- Semi-colons. You can't just eradicate them because you don't know how to use them, and you can't just use them in place of commas for the sake of using them.
- Sarah and I. "AND ME" IS NOT ALWAYS INCORRECT. You wouldn't say "That pie is for I" (well, [livejournal.com profile] ghostlight would), so don't say "That pie is for Sarah and I."
- The use of "his or her" over and over and OVER and over. While not a mistake, it's still FUCKING ANNOYING. You can use "their" as an asexual pronoun, despite it being plural, IT'S WIDELY ACCEPTED AND NOW CONSIDERED GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT. EVEN JANE AUSTIN DID IT. There are entire WEBSITES dedicated to it.
- whose and who's. whose is possessive, who's is the same as it's. IT'S A CONTRACTION. WHO'S IS NOT POSSESSIVE.

I'm hungry. Time to go get fish & chips.
overocea: (Default)
Semester 1.
my first lecture is in 13 hours, and it is for anthropology.
i'm sure that 10 miles deep in the bubbles of my lungs is some small remnant of enthusiasm.

my biggest wish today is that I could adequately explain my dream. if I rolled my eyes to the back, they dissolved, and eventually reformed a different colour. I could see it as it happened as though I was simply wearing eye-patterned kaleidoscope goggles. I remember exactly how I looked with blue eyes. for a time my skin was the texture of over-ripe lemons. I made that last part up.

February 2017

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