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If Amanda Palmer knocked on your door, what be the first sentence you would say to her?

I would like to think that I would say something like "I want my chest pressed to your chest
My nervous systems interfere" (from her song 'Another Year') or "I want to touch the back of your right arm" (from her song Astronaut)... but I would probably say something like "OMG! What are you doing here!?"

Ask me anything

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If you had access to a time machine, where and when would be the first place you travel to?

Into The Doctor's bedroom. Hehe.

Ask me anything

Seeing Paranormal Activity Was A Mistake...

...not because I didn't enjoy it thoroughly, I like being scared and it had some scary moments; but because I like being scared in movie theatres and not in my own house.

I'm not talking about the sort of thing that happened after I went to see a midnight showing of The Ring on my own (which I will expand upon in another entry). I'm talking about the fact that for the third time in two nights I have woken up to go to the bathroom and discover that the back window of my house was open. After closing it.

Sure, perhaps the first time (Monday night) we forgot to close it. I mentioned it to T, she swore that it was closed, and I figured that she might have just forgot.

Tonight I woke T up and took her out with me after I found it open again to show her that I wasn't messing around. I've just gone to pee for the second time since going to bed (more boredom and insomnia than a weak bladder) to find the window open... again.

Now I know that we closed it the first time tonight. And I KNOW that we closed it after finding it open earlier tonight because we stood there and discussed the fact that it was open.

So how the FUCK was the window open when I just went to pee for the second time?!

I don't believe in ghosts (not the dead human kind, I believe in the build up of psychic energy in a space), but I do believe in spirits and demons (as well as angels)... after all, I am a Pagan. And I know that this is an OLD house - with the peeling paint chips to prove it, built on old land - Bathurst has it's fair share of history, but I've never 'felt' anything here. The only thing that scares me about the house is the spiders and bugs.

But I could really really do without the freaky window opening business.

Then a Cackle of Horror Split Her Lips As She Slowly Peeled the Skin From Her Face...

I'm slowly working my way through the entire Avon skin care range.

My favourites so far -

• Solutions AM/PM Maximum Moisture - this comes in a pot with a divider between the AM side and the PM side. The AM moisturiser is lovely and light, and contains sunscreen (always a plus!). It is a little heavily scented for my tastes (I have a very delicate sense of smell), but it only bothers me for about 30 minutes and then I just get used to the scent. The PM moisturiser is a little more heavy, the sort of heaviness that you might find in a face cream and decide that it isn't for you because you don't like the feeling. But persevere. When you consider that you are putting it on just before bed, and when you feel the results in the morning, you will be thankful you tried it. I wouldn't recommend this for anyone with sensitive skin, though - the scent really is a little too much.
• Anew Rejuvenate 2 in 1 Cleanser - easy-peasy to use. I just throw this one on in the shower. A tiny bit on your hands and then lather it up before giving your face a good wash with it. It has tiny little moisture beads and you are meant to keep lathering your face until the beads dissolve. Who knows if it works, but my skin feels smoother after only using it for a week.
• Anew Alpha Peel Off Mask - who doesn't like a peel off mask?! That moment when it finally dries and you get to peel it away like some horror movie extra... but this product seems like more than just fun. I've only used it once, but I did see a noticeable change in my skin. Almost like someone had peeled off all the dead skin - funny that.
• Anew Clearly C 10% Vitamin C Serum - Vitamin C Serums are flooding the market at the moment, and I was skeptical about trying it (I usually am skeptical when it comes to 'the latest in essential skin care') but I tried this last night, after the Anew Alpha Peel Off Mask, and my skin felt amazing. The biggest differences I felt were that my skin felt tightened, not unpleasantly so, but nice and firm, similar to the times that I've gone to get a facial. The other big difference I noticed - my pores! Tiny! Finally! This looks like a little bottle of sunshine and orange juice - but it is definately worth a try, particularly if you stare at the mirror wondering if you could actually park a mini in your pores, like I do.

More up dates to come as I experiment with probably every product Avon sells.

If you are interested in ordering any of these products, or anything else - email me atavon.from.jo@gmail.com

It's 5am and we are waiting for two lines.

I was woken up at 5am this morning. This might be a normal occurrence for some people, or at least a slight inconvenience - but I didn't get to sleep until about 3.30am.

I swear this insomnia is going to kill me... or be the death of someone who annoys me at just the wrong time.

It has now gotten to the stage where taking 4mg Xanax gives me about 4 hours sleep (as long as I don't get woken up - but we'll come back to that later), which, for the uninitiated, is a whopping great dose that should put a pachyderm in his pyjamas.

The reason that it gave me a mere hour and a half of dream-time? Today was baby test day.

T and I decided that she would wake me up when she got up (usually 7am) and she would go and POAS (pee on a stick) and then bring it back into the bedroom (they have these nifty little covers to stop you spattering pee everywhere when you hold it up like a trophy and jump up and down - as yet unwitnessed by us) and we would wait out the three minutes together.

Three minutes is a long time when you are this tired. It is an even longer time when the stick shows only one line after the wait.

Positive would have been two lines.

I'm Tired of White Gay Men Complaining About How Difficult Life is for Them - Please Direct Them to the Definition of the Word 'PRIVLIDGE'?

I have a Moriarty. A nemesis... and I expect that would have been a lot more scary for Sherlock Holmes, seeing as his nemesis tried on occasion to kill him, and didn't just send him annoying and snarky emails.

Let us call him Mr M. For... well, for many reasons.

It started with the email sent to all of the SRC members (because this person apparently doesn't now how to tell the difference between 'reply' and 'reply all' about the one Queer Collective meeting they attended because no one talked about the things that they thought that should have been brought up, not that they submitted anything for the Agenda, nor did they actually raise any points during the meeting.

Then followed the email discussion about that.

Then they emailed me consistantly over a period of time asking me to do things for a project that THEY are meant to be running, having declared themselves the 'co-ordinator, Secretary and Treasurer' of the Project's 'Collective'.

Followed by a long conversation about the meaning of 'Collectivism' as opposed to 'Dictatorship' and the poor idea that it is not having an independent Treasurer appointed to create a means of accountability (seeing as this is where the word 'accountant' comes from) if money goes missing.

Then another long email conversation about that.

Then the emails that called me reactionary instead of rational, and implied that I was this way because I was female, and that accused myself and C of making them feel 'unsafe' in the Queer Space and 'worthless'. Well, Mr M. you can try to push all of the buttons that you want by using those words, but it isn't going to work because I am 'rational' and not 'reactionary'. For if indeed I were 'reactionary', you would realise this from the fact that you would have under 4 minutes to live due the the fact that I had sliced open one of your arteries without you noticing. For that is how my 'reactionary' side plays... which is why I am a very 'rational' person.

There was then a diatribe of insulting emails sent to my personal email address, to which I responded by explaining that he is only to email me on a professional basis via the CSU.SRC or CSU.MSG addresses, dependent on what the business was referring to.

Mr M's response? To send a diatribe of insults to the CSU.MSG email account.

No, no, no Sir. I did not ask you to use that account to insult me because it was more convenient for me to receive them there. I said that there would be no more insults and only professional emails sent to the Guild and Council accounts. So my response was to tell Mr M. that there would be no more insults, and anything like an insult would be taken as harassment and dealt with as such.

So, no more harrassing emails addressed to me.

BUT, (because these situations always have a big arse in them) we are now up to the 'I will email the Queer Collective (that I swore I would have nothing to do with) and tell them that they are disgusting and messy because I don't KNOW that it is 'her' [me, your whinning authoress] who reads them. And I will comb through the student forums and answer each of the posts she made last year with some snide comment and thinly veiled threat about the days of your positions on the Council and Guild being numbered.

Oh boy, do I have some news for you, Mr M.

As I said - the idea of a nemesis seemed so much more exciting when I was growing up reading Sherlock Holmes books.

LIES, IT"S ALL LIES!

Ok. So that sounds a little more dramatic than it was meant to. What I mean is that my last post was a promise to post more regularly... and I haven't. So, I lied. Apparently in the last sentence of my last post I also told everyone to go and buy some bitches. What I meant was 'go and buy some, bitches.' I'm taking the confusion caused by the misplaced comma as the reason no one bought any of the jewelry that I have made for Querelle'10. So now that the confusion is cleared up I know that I will be selling a lot of jewelry.

Things that have happened since my last post.
- I am still studying Psych, although I failed my Sociology subject. Oh well, there is always next semester.
- I am doing a statistics subject over summer. Oh joy.
- I went to the USA with Tracey.
- I spent time with my friend A while over there.
- I finally saw Kandinsky's works at the Guggenheim. What an amazing day!
-I am possibly am in the process of becoming a Daddy.

And I promise that over the next couple of weeks I will get back here and blog about these and other things.

Maybe.

The Official 'I Will Update More Often' Post

I know that I've not written in a long time, and let us be honest, the last couple of entries were a bit of a cop out - with more input from the genius of Ms Amanda Fucking Palmer than from me.

Well, this is the official 'I promise I will update more often' post. With pictures.

The things that have happened since I last posted...

-I dropped out of Nursing.

-I picked up psychology.

-I moved into a large pink house that makes me think of walking into a giant vagina every time I come home.

-I went to Canberra for Queer Collaborations'09.

-I bought furniture and tickets to fly to the States (16th October)

-I now have a 1 year old nephew who is walking.

There are other things that have happened, or that I have done. I can't really think of them now.

The thing that I want to elaborate on is my time at Queer Collaborations'09. I arrived feeling quite old and cynical, after all I am 35 years old (everyone else there seemed to still be in their early 20's) and I've been involved in the queer community for "Years and years."

And then I realised that I shouldn't be so cynical because I learnt more in the first day of QC'09 than I had in the "Years and years" that I thought I'd spent involved in the queer community. I realised that I hadn't really spent time in the queer community, but just with a bunch of friends who happened to be gay and knew about as much as I did - which was squat.

Since getting back to Bathurst from Canberra I've been doing a lot of work through the Queer Collective at CSU and some of it with the SRC (who can be helpful at times, when certain people let their egos down and actually listen to what is being said.) One of the great things that we have organised is Queer Week which starts on Monday and looks like it is going to be fabulous.

I know I promised pictures, ut instead I'll give you all a couple of links.

Firstly, Ms Amanda Fucking Palmer...

Secondly a link to the jewelry I have been making to raise money for the production of Querelle'10. Buy some bitches!

Who Let The Queers Into Canberra? - Queer Collaborations '09

What do you get when you have 350 queers in a room?
The flu, lots of arguments and a massive headache.

Luckily, that isn’t all that I brought back from QC’09 this year.

Queer Collaborations is an annual event that is run with the help of NUS and other organisations to provide a forum for GLBTI students from around Australia (and the world – there were Canadians there!) to discuss political issues, learn about sexuality and gender, meet a lot of other people and get drunk with them.

We listened to (and at times joined in on) hotly contested debates on Racism and Sexism, asking if it was racist to be attracted to someone because of their skin tone and if men can be victims of sexism or is there a difference between sexism and gender discrimination.

We watched presentations on what it meant to be hetero-normative which led to long and varied discussion about whether it was acceptable to be hetero-normative or whether the presentation itself had been discriminatory towards hetero-normative people.

We went to workshops on polyamory, gender, living with HIV, risk aware sex, Centerlink and the changes to the law, how to be a trans* ally and many other interesting and vitally important topics.

We held two protests – one at Canberra University to protest their closing of the Queer group and freezing of all student group funds by the Uni, and the other in front of Parliament House to demand equal rights for LGBTI couples.

We ran caucus groups (which are interest groups that you can attend if you identify as a part of that group of people) for women, trans*, cultural and language different people, people with ‘dis’abilities.

We held a very moving candlelight vigil in the rain with Amnesty International to remember those who had been victims of hate, oppression and violence due to peoples' lack of understanding about their sexual and gender identities.

We discovered the concept of ‘Safer Spaces’ – not only made safe for us by keeping queerphobia out, but also the need to discipline our own behaviours as adults so that our fellow queers feel safe around us.

We fought and argued. We made up and then argued again. But we did all of this as a community of people with a common identity and without the fear of being boxed in and labeled as being different. We were different to each other, but we gave ourselves the space to celebrate that fact instead of apologising for it.

In conclusion, QC’09 was an amazing week that opened my eyes to a LOT of issues facing queer folk of all sorts of flavours that I had never even thought of before.

I am 35 years old and thought that I had effectively sorted through my sexuality years and years ago. I have also had friends who have sorted through gender issues and felt that I knew enough about things to not be phased or shocked by anything - but this last week has taught me that I don't know anything.

I wasn't shocked or disturbed by what I saw or the people that I met; I was motivated and moved by them. I met people who identify as female, male, neither and both. I met people who are attracted to female, male, neither and both. But most importantly I met people who were intelligent, funny caring and who deserve the same rights as any other people in our country.

Just for the simple fact that whether they are a 'he', 'she', 'they' or an 'it', these people are people.

And these people deserve rights.

I can say this with certainty because I am one of these people - and I want my rights.

By 10 o'clock I'm Back In Bed Fighting The Jury In My Head

It has been a disappointingly long time since I have had anything to write about - and I still don't. I just thought that instead of being alone in my disappointment I would share it with whoever (if there actualy is anyone) reads this.

I have moved house. I was living in a neat little yellow cottage that filled me with inspiration for art and music, and now I am left to rattle around in a large pink house that saps my motivation and makes me feel like things are falling apart. Perhaps it makes me feel this way because the house actually is falling apart. There are holes in walls and the wall paper is peeling off. For the life of me I can't remember why we were inspired to move into this particular house. It has fabulous potential if one wants to work on it, however I am only a tenant and therefore can't start stripping wallpaper and painting doors. I will eventually put some pictures of the house up here for people to look at.

I dropped out of my two classes for this semester (that is, this semester that is now over) and am planning on changing my major to Psychology and my degree to a Bachelor of Social Sciences. I am just waiting on paperwork to be processed. I was speaking with the husband of my science lecturer the other day (whom I know through work) and he passed on that my lecturer missed having me in her class and was sorry to see me drop the course. I miss being in her class - she is a fantastic teacher.

Emotionally things have been difficult for me. The line from 'Blake Says' by Amanda Palmer seems apt lately - "And Blake's been having trouble with his head again. He takes his pills, but never takes his medicine." I've been taking my meds as well as I can remember, but I feel miserable all of the time. I had a really bad time a couple of weeks ago and was wanting to just stop everything, but I feel that I'm pulling back from that and slowly slowly getting back to normal. What is normal, anyways?

I've been getting involved with the Queer Collective at Uni, which I am enjoying doing. I'm meeting some really lovely, thoughtful and intelligent people... and am thinking of becoming involved in the SRC as well. It has been too long a time to sit silently by and watch things happen without saying anything. Fight the Power and Damn the Man. I think that people are going to be surprised when they find out who the Man actually is.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream...

A Nauseous Nocturne
From: The Essential Calvin and Hobbes

Another night deprived of slumber, Hours passing without number, My eyes trace 'round the room. I lay 
 Dripping sweat and now quite certain That tonight the final curtain Drops upon my short life's precious play. 
 From the darkness, by the closet Comes a noise, much like a faucet Makes: a madd'ning drip-drip-dripping sound. 
 It seems some ill-proportioned beast, Anticipating me deceased, Is drooling poison puddles on the ground. 
 A can of Mace, a forty-five, Is all I'd need to stay alive, But no weapon lies within my sight. 
 Oh my gosh! A shadow's creeping, Omnious and black, it's seeping Slowly 'cross a moonlit square of light! 
 Suddenly a floorboard creak Announces the bloodsucking freak Is here to steal my future years away!
 A sulf'rous smell now fills the room Heralding my imm'nent doom! A fang gleams in the dark and murky gray! 
 Oh, blood-red eyes and tentacles! Throbbing, pulsing ventricles! Mucus-oozing pores and frightful claws! 
 Worse, in terms of outright scariness, Are the suckers multifarious That grab and force you in its mighty jaws! 
 This disgusting aberration Of nature needs no mitivation To devour helpless children in their beds.
 Relishing despairing moans, It chews kids up and sucks their bones, And dissolves inside its mouth their li'l heads! 
 I know this 'cause I read it not Two hours ago, and then I got The heebie-jeebies and these awful shakes. 
 My parents swore upon their honor That I was safe, and not a goner. I guess tomorrow they'll see their sad mistakes. 
 In the morning, they'll come in And say, "waht was that awful din We heard last night? You kept us both from sleep!" 
 Only then will they surmise The gruesomeness of my demise And see that my remains are in a heap. 
 Dad will look at Mom and say, "Too bad he had to go that way." And Mom will look at Dad, and nod assent. 
 Mom will add, "Still, it's fitting, That as he was this world quitting, He should leave another mess before he went." 
 They may not mind at first, I know. They will miss me later, though, And perhaps admit that they were wrong.
 As memories of me grow dim, They'll say, "We were too strict with him. We should have listened to him all along." 
 As speedily my end approaches, I bid a final "buenas noches" To my best friend here in all the world.
 Gently snoring, whiskers seeming To sniff at smells (he must be dreaming), He lies snugled in the blankets, curled. 
 HEY! WAKE UP, YOU STUPID CRETIN! YOU GONNA SLEEP WHILE I GET EATEN?! Suddenly the monster knows I'm not alone! 
 There's an animal in bed with me! An awful beast he did not see! The monster never would've come if he had known! 
 The monster, in his consternation, Demonstated defenestration, And runs and runs and runs and runs away. 
 Rid of the pest, I now cah rest, Thanks to my best friend, who saved the day.

More Love from the SOH

End Music (to a Film) by Radiohead has always been an emotional and inspiring song for me.  It is the reason I have my 'Breathe' tattoo on the inside of my left wrist.  Seeing Amanda finally play it live, and to be able t sit only meters away from her while she excuded such raw energy and passion was astounding.  I wish that A had been there to witness the event so he can understand my obsession with her music.

This taping is the reason that we were so late being allowed into the venue.

Amanda Palmer:  Exit Music (for a Film) by Radiohead from shoottheplayer.com on Vimeo.

And then there is Creep - another Radiohead song that has become a staple.  Nobody does it like AFP - dressed in rufflies with a ukele.

Not so much breaking the law as just bending it slightly

Oh no! I am a criminal.

I am sitting in the library at Uni waiting to meet a 'client'. She should be here between 2.30pm and 3.30pm.

It really isn't anything as interesting as you might be wishing that it is. The University library supplies us with a copy of EndNoteX1, which is a clever little program that compiles all of your references and creates a bibliography or reference list for you at the end of your essay. The issue is that it is far surpassed by EndNoteX2 (which incidentally also works well on Macs, where X1 doesn't...), however the University won't pay for access to X2 for it's students. Cheap Bastards.

So, I happened to come across a copy of X2 (one for the PC and one for the Mac) and have them on a USB drive that I am sharing around with people.

Fight the Power!
Damn the Man!
Share the Software!

Ok, maybe I've seen Empire Records one too many times.

Amanda Palmer at the SOH

Watch more YouTube videos on AOL Video

Amanda Palmer is one of my favourite artists. She is passionate, alive, bawdy and vibrant.

I was so lucky to be able to see her in concert a couple of weeks ago. It was simply the best concert I have ever seen, and I can't imagine seeing anything to top it.

We bought the tickets before Christmas, and I was really nervous about going. Not only because of the idea of the crowd, but for the fact that I was going to meet some SGF friends in person for the first time. The concert was at the Sydney Opera House (the above clip is actually from the night that I was there), in The Studio which is a lovely small venue, very intimate. We were right at the front of the floor area which had been set with tables and chairs, giving the theatre a lovely cabaret style feel to it.

She performed with a string accompaniment and with the theatrical assistance of The Danger Ensemble, doing songs from her new album "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" and some Dresden Dolls work as well.

I wish that there was more footage of the night to show you. And more footage to relive.

She Would Drive Satan's Own Mother To Tears

I had an interesting moment of self-awareness at work last night.  I am currently working at a hospital in the regional area of NSW I live in… no, it isn’t the hospital that has been in the news a lot.  Well, not anymore it isn’t.

I am listed on the casual staffing pool and have only had a half dozen shifts so far, most of which I have been working with different staff members, and all in all they have been quite a lovely group of people to deal with.  Except for the occasional racist remark that makes my hand itch to slap someone, but you tend to get comments like that in the more regional and rural areas of most countries.

Last night I was working with a person who just shit me to tears every time she opened her mouth, which is to say constantly.  I arrived home and T asked me how my night at work had been, she also reminded me to take my medication as I had forgotten to do so for the two days before that.

Then it dawned on me… did this woman constantly annoy me because I had forgotten my meds for two days?  Was my reaction to her the fault of my own lacking discipline?  Perhaps she was a pleasant and cheerful woman who had been trying to help me feel that I fit in to a new workplace.

Nah, she is a Nazi cunt from Hell.

Some Background For Those Who've Arrived Late To Class

I don’t really believe in labeling people, but I can see how they are helpful in defining ones roles for others.  So I’ll label myself for you… try to keep up.

 

I’m a gothic lesbian submissive babygirl with a fetish for vampirism and edge play, works on a casual basis as a nurse, listens to John Denver and plays Fishdom obsessively.  

Yes, I said John Denver.  

Fuck off.

Let Me Try This Again…

I enjoy writing blogs.  I’ve kept a number of them over the years, and I’m sure that if you googled any of the online aliases I’ve held over time that you will find the list I’ve left scattered behind me, like some sort of depraved one-sided litany.  The bastard children of illness and insight, of affliction and awareness.  My attempts at breathing a semblance of meaning into my pain and trying to help it gain a strength for a few sessions of psychological self-flagellation later on.

 

So, I decided to start another blog and she was supposed to be a commentary on things that were happening in society around me… but she told me to fuck off.  So then I tried to make her into a blog about our attempts to find a sperm donor and conceive a child this year, but then she said “You know?..  No.”

 

But now I’m trying to build her into something new.  I’m trying to feed this one on truth and not self-pity and drama.

 

Perhaps I’ll conceive something this year after all.

 

"So this little song is probably...she's one of my best friends of all the songs. And um, she just didn't want to be on any of the records. She was supposed to be on Pele, and then she told me to fuck off. And then she was supposed to be on Choirgirl, sorta kinda, but then she said, 'you know...no.' And then she decided she liked being played live, so I play her a lot."  ~Tori Amos Cooling