So... A while ago, I discovered this Podcast on iTunes called Pseudopod. It's incredible - it reads you horror stories written by small-time authors. The stories are really well written, and most of them actually make my heart skip beats. Sure, some of them you go, 'Huh? That's not horror.'
But I heard (I keep wanting to say read... but I didn't, really) this one, called Mira, by Michael James McFarland, and I actually didn't want to go to bed afterward, simply because it was sooooo scary.
The host, Alistair, has the sexiest voice, too. He has a gorgeous accent, and I keep wishing he would actually read a story, but he never does. At least, not that I've heard.
They get a wide variety of people to read; musicians, other authors, lecturers, teachers, etc. etc. They all have really nice voices - soothing to listen to, even when the words they're saying make you shiver and your breath hitch.
But Pseudopod is awesome. I listen to one or two stories before bed each night - keeps my dreams interesting.
I highly recommend it. However, mature 'readers' only. Includes: sex, violence, racism, swearing and graphic descriptions of all the above. Incredible.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Window Shopping
Today I went shopping with a girlfriend of mine. While we get along really, really well, we're almost at complete opposites of the spectrum.
First, the similarities:
We're both tall - she's easily 5"8, as am I.
We both play saxophone, although she plays alto and I play tenor, and we have the same teacher, even though we're in different schools.
And that's where the similarities end.
Personality wise, image wise, fashion-sense wise, music-taste wise, we're almost completely opposite. Which leaves me at a loss as to how we can possibly survive as the tight pair of girls we are.
So we're in Dotti today (a shop for girls like her - that like flowery skirts and A-Line shirts), and she's holding up all these shirts against me as if to say 'That colour looks good on you!'. I'd never wear any of this stuff, but if I say anything, she will be offended and get all huffy, so it's best to humour her.
And then we're jewelry shopping, and I'm looking at all these chunky ID bracelets, even though I already have about five Sterling Silver bracelets just like them, and she's looking at 3" gold hoops to put through her ears. If she buys them, she'll put them on immediately, and then complain that they're brushing against her neck, but will refuse to take them off. Because that's just how she works.
Have you heard of the coloured contacts that Gloss is selling? They come in all different colours, and some of them even have patterns and things on them. I'm soooo tempted to buy bright green ones (I have very dark brown eyes - almost black), just to freak people out, and she takes one look at them and moves on. It's weird; they're the sorta thing I would've though she would have been interested in, but shows how much I know.
Anyways, it was really, really fun window shopping with her, because she is so easily led off the garden path. I'm fairly sure she will never be able to show her face in Spend-Less Shoes again, simply because of all the antics I dragged her through. Such as mixing 5" high heels made to go with flapper dresses at nightclubs with mens golf shoes, and then walking around in them, and asking a cashier if she thought the combination looked any good. I was rolling on the floor in tears, wearing, as I was, my sensible standard-issue Converse low-tops, and the cashier is looking at her as if to say 'Are you really serious, Miss?' If I were that cashier, I probably would've said 'Sure they do, sweetie, would you like me to box that up for you?' Just to have some fun. Instead, she just stands there like a kill-joy. But oh well; not everyone can have an amazing sense of humour, I guess.
First, the similarities:
We're both tall - she's easily 5"8, as am I.
We both play saxophone, although she plays alto and I play tenor, and we have the same teacher, even though we're in different schools.
And that's where the similarities end.
Personality wise, image wise, fashion-sense wise, music-taste wise, we're almost completely opposite. Which leaves me at a loss as to how we can possibly survive as the tight pair of girls we are.
So we're in Dotti today (a shop for girls like her - that like flowery skirts and A-Line shirts), and she's holding up all these shirts against me as if to say 'That colour looks good on you!'. I'd never wear any of this stuff, but if I say anything, she will be offended and get all huffy, so it's best to humour her.
And then we're jewelry shopping, and I'm looking at all these chunky ID bracelets, even though I already have about five Sterling Silver bracelets just like them, and she's looking at 3" gold hoops to put through her ears. If she buys them, she'll put them on immediately, and then complain that they're brushing against her neck, but will refuse to take them off. Because that's just how she works.
Have you heard of the coloured contacts that Gloss is selling? They come in all different colours, and some of them even have patterns and things on them. I'm soooo tempted to buy bright green ones (I have very dark brown eyes - almost black), just to freak people out, and she takes one look at them and moves on. It's weird; they're the sorta thing I would've though she would have been interested in, but shows how much I know.
Anyways, it was really, really fun window shopping with her, because she is so easily led off the garden path. I'm fairly sure she will never be able to show her face in Spend-Less Shoes again, simply because of all the antics I dragged her through. Such as mixing 5" high heels made to go with flapper dresses at nightclubs with mens golf shoes, and then walking around in them, and asking a cashier if she thought the combination looked any good. I was rolling on the floor in tears, wearing, as I was, my sensible standard-issue Converse low-tops, and the cashier is looking at her as if to say 'Are you really serious, Miss?' If I were that cashier, I probably would've said 'Sure they do, sweetie, would you like me to box that up for you?' Just to have some fun. Instead, she just stands there like a kill-joy. But oh well; not everyone can have an amazing sense of humour, I guess.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Blogging
Wow, three blogs in one day. I'm on a roll.
Anyways, so I have an aquaintence at school who blogs. Obsessively. Note the word 'aquaintence' and not 'friend'. Her blog is incredibly negative. I very rarely read it, simply because it takes me to a place where even decent music doesn't help, and I get stuck in a funk of anger, resentment, selfishness and I get very angry over very petty things.
I'll admit, she hasn't had the easiest life in the whole world. Failed romances, broken hearts, life-threatening surgeries, you get the picture. But she has so much to be happy about! For one thing, our school is arguably one of the best schools in the state, public or not, and we're receiving an education that others could only dream of. Sure, there's pressure on us that wouldn't otherwise be there, but it's under pressure that we learn to perform to the best of our abilities, and we'll be under pressure for the rest of our lives anyway, so we might as well get used to it.
She also goes on about how she's not 'pretty'. But she is. Maybe not the conventional 'pretty' that you see in magazines - tall, skinny, blonde, caucasian; the 'Hollywood Pose: Teeth, Tits and Toes' (courtesy of Nickelback's "Shakin' Hands"). But she is pretty. Or, she would be, if she didn't slather so much makeup on her face. At a time when we were still friends, she would give me a hug and there would be enough foundation left on my shoulder for me to cover my own face sufficently. And blue eyeshadow. Okay, it looks good on tall, blonde and white girls, but when you have skin that so many would kill for - an even tan and the colour of mocha - blue just doesn't go.
Religion is another topic of protest for her. She really, really doesn't like it. She thinks of it as an excuse for heartless people to do heartless things to people who don't believe in the same things. And maybe that was true once, but in today's society, in today's Australian society, it is very rare that you meet such a dedicated fanatic. Indeed, I've never met one in my fourteen years of life. And you cannot, under any circumstances, judge someone for something they haven't done. And by that stance, you cannot judge a whole sect of people (almost 90% of the world's population cleave to one religion or another) by crimes commited by often-insane people in generations passed.
I don't believe in God as of this day (I'm agnostic), or in any other form of higher sentient being, but that's not to say that I can't respect that other people do.
Because at the end of the day, it's an individual's choice, and in taking that choice away from them, or condenming them for making a choice that I haven't, I become as bad as those who burned witches at the stake in the 1800s.
And I'm sorry if I'm bitching - I don't mean to. But I am a teenager, and while that isn't an excuse, it may offer you a little insight as to why I write the way I do.
Anyways, so I have an aquaintence at school who blogs. Obsessively. Note the word 'aquaintence' and not 'friend'. Her blog is incredibly negative. I very rarely read it, simply because it takes me to a place where even decent music doesn't help, and I get stuck in a funk of anger, resentment, selfishness and I get very angry over very petty things.
I'll admit, she hasn't had the easiest life in the whole world. Failed romances, broken hearts, life-threatening surgeries, you get the picture. But she has so much to be happy about! For one thing, our school is arguably one of the best schools in the state, public or not, and we're receiving an education that others could only dream of. Sure, there's pressure on us that wouldn't otherwise be there, but it's under pressure that we learn to perform to the best of our abilities, and we'll be under pressure for the rest of our lives anyway, so we might as well get used to it.
She also goes on about how she's not 'pretty'. But she is. Maybe not the conventional 'pretty' that you see in magazines - tall, skinny, blonde, caucasian; the 'Hollywood Pose: Teeth, Tits and Toes' (courtesy of Nickelback's "Shakin' Hands"). But she is pretty. Or, she would be, if she didn't slather so much makeup on her face. At a time when we were still friends, she would give me a hug and there would be enough foundation left on my shoulder for me to cover my own face sufficently. And blue eyeshadow. Okay, it looks good on tall, blonde and white girls, but when you have skin that so many would kill for - an even tan and the colour of mocha - blue just doesn't go.
Religion is another topic of protest for her. She really, really doesn't like it. She thinks of it as an excuse for heartless people to do heartless things to people who don't believe in the same things. And maybe that was true once, but in today's society, in today's Australian society, it is very rare that you meet such a dedicated fanatic. Indeed, I've never met one in my fourteen years of life. And you cannot, under any circumstances, judge someone for something they haven't done. And by that stance, you cannot judge a whole sect of people (almost 90% of the world's population cleave to one religion or another) by crimes commited by often-insane people in generations passed.
I don't believe in God as of this day (I'm agnostic), or in any other form of higher sentient being, but that's not to say that I can't respect that other people do.
Because at the end of the day, it's an individual's choice, and in taking that choice away from them, or condenming them for making a choice that I haven't, I become as bad as those who burned witches at the stake in the 1800s.
And I'm sorry if I'm bitching - I don't mean to. But I am a teenager, and while that isn't an excuse, it may offer you a little insight as to why I write the way I do.
'Heyy'
So, today on Facebook (yes, I use it and yes, it is amazing), I saw that one of my friends had 'liked' (a way of stating that you agree with or participate in something) a group called:
'She texted "heyy" with two "y"s, she totally wants my dick!'
I laughed very hard, for some time.
And then my second thought, much to my disgust, was that maybe I could use that. But in reality, this just highlights all the problems in today's teenage society. Even if my friend liked this as a joke (I hope...), there are plenty of bimbos and jerkoffs out there that think this is a perfectly reasonable and logical way of attracting boyfriends/girlfriends/whatevers.
I'm still laughing. Seriously, this is hilarious. I think I'm going to go like it, just to see what people say. Teehee.
'She texted "heyy" with two "y"s, she totally wants my dick!'
I laughed very hard, for some time.
And then my second thought, much to my disgust, was that maybe I could use that. But in reality, this just highlights all the problems in today's teenage society. Even if my friend liked this as a joke (I hope...), there are plenty of bimbos and jerkoffs out there that think this is a perfectly reasonable and logical way of attracting boyfriends/girlfriends/whatevers.
I'm still laughing. Seriously, this is hilarious. I think I'm going to go like it, just to see what people say. Teehee.
Busking
So, today I went busking with my saxophone ensemble in Fremantle, Western Australia. We're pretty decent; we have an amazing teacher, and everyone can hold their own.
I play tenor sax, the other girl (a friend of mine) plays baritone, and two boys play alto and soprano.
It's incredibly amusing to watch people that wouldn't normally look twice at a quartet of buskers do double takes at my friend-the-baritone-player, simply because she's typically European, with long and flowing blonde hair, red jeans, Converse shoes, curves and a red flower in her hair. I'll admit, she's gorgeous, but surely there's no need to make it that obvious that you're checking her out?
Especially when they put a $5 note in our case, and then proceed to stand next to her and pretend to be following the music over her shoulder, as she - all the while - cringes closer to me in the hope that they'll get the message and leave her alone.
For some reason, I was under the impression that Perth's society was less shallow than this, and also less willing to part with their money - especially for a pretty girl who's unlikely to want anything to do with them.
Was I mistaken in assuming that most people would jump to conclusions, and assume that the two boys and myself and my friend would be dating? Both the boys are older than us, and relatively good-looking, as are we.
Don't doubt that I'm insanely grateful for my friend's ability to... increase our earning capacity beyond what it would normally have been, I just find that I'm slightly insulted on her behalf. Also slightly insulted in my own right, too, as I'm a girl as well, and would've hoped that I would have had at least one admirer, as she had at least six over the course of the one hour period.
All in all, it was a good day, and we made quite a bit of money, which will go towards our collective music tour funds, as the saxophone ensemble is performing on tour i.e. France, England, Budapest.
As you can imagine, we are all very excited :)
I play tenor sax, the other girl (a friend of mine) plays baritone, and two boys play alto and soprano.
It's incredibly amusing to watch people that wouldn't normally look twice at a quartet of buskers do double takes at my friend-the-baritone-player, simply because she's typically European, with long and flowing blonde hair, red jeans, Converse shoes, curves and a red flower in her hair. I'll admit, she's gorgeous, but surely there's no need to make it that obvious that you're checking her out?
Especially when they put a $5 note in our case, and then proceed to stand next to her and pretend to be following the music over her shoulder, as she - all the while - cringes closer to me in the hope that they'll get the message and leave her alone.
For some reason, I was under the impression that Perth's society was less shallow than this, and also less willing to part with their money - especially for a pretty girl who's unlikely to want anything to do with them.
Was I mistaken in assuming that most people would jump to conclusions, and assume that the two boys and myself and my friend would be dating? Both the boys are older than us, and relatively good-looking, as are we.
Don't doubt that I'm insanely grateful for my friend's ability to... increase our earning capacity beyond what it would normally have been, I just find that I'm slightly insulted on her behalf. Also slightly insulted in my own right, too, as I'm a girl as well, and would've hoped that I would have had at least one admirer, as she had at least six over the course of the one hour period.
All in all, it was a good day, and we made quite a bit of money, which will go towards our collective music tour funds, as the saxophone ensemble is performing on tour i.e. France, England, Budapest.
As you can imagine, we are all very excited :)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Bus Talk
The other day, when I was on the bus, a pair of typical teenage lolitas were sitting behind me. They were blonde, beautiful, gum-snapping and having a typical teenage conversation - bitching.
I was struggling very hard not to laugh, as I had my iPod headphones in but nothing playing, so I was hearing every word they were saying - they were bitching about me. More specifically, what I was wearing; my Extra-Hi vintage Converse, with denim shorts, a black tank top, dog tags and a crew cut.
'She's all like, bad-ass and stuff, with her lace-up shoes and shit like that,' said one to the other,
'I knoww! She's such a dero, thinks she's so like, cool and stuff.' the other replied,
I was biting my cheek to stop my laughter at their limited vocabulary, their narrow-mindedness and their shallowness. I may not look like the most mainstream person in the world, but I'm most certainly not 'dero', which, for those of you that don't know, is an insinuation that I'm from the 'Ghetto', or from a not-very-wealthy neighbour hood, which I'm not, so it was quite funny.
Throughout the whole bus ride from Stirling station to Karrinyup shopping centre they were bitching about the way I looked, the way I was sitting (on one seat with one leg folded over the other), the way I wore my earrings (double piercings, with small studs in each) and the way I listened to my music (quiet enough that they had to lean forward until they were almost next to me before they could hear it). I found it quite amazing that they could both participate in a conversation about one person neither of them knew personally for thirty-five minutes.
I vowed to try this with my friends (after filling them in on what happenened), and found that we could only keep up an active conversation for a maximum of ten minutes before the temptation to move onto another subject became too much. We were both laughing very, very hard by the end of it, having made the subject of our experiment a mutual friend of ours that likes to dress 'alternatively', more alternatively than me.
If you're my age, try this out. If you're not, join me in marvelling at a teenage girl's ability to bitch.
I was struggling very hard not to laugh, as I had my iPod headphones in but nothing playing, so I was hearing every word they were saying - they were bitching about me. More specifically, what I was wearing; my Extra-Hi vintage Converse, with denim shorts, a black tank top, dog tags and a crew cut.
'She's all like, bad-ass and stuff, with her lace-up shoes and shit like that,' said one to the other,
'I knoww! She's such a dero, thinks she's so like, cool and stuff.' the other replied,
I was biting my cheek to stop my laughter at their limited vocabulary, their narrow-mindedness and their shallowness. I may not look like the most mainstream person in the world, but I'm most certainly not 'dero', which, for those of you that don't know, is an insinuation that I'm from the 'Ghetto', or from a not-very-wealthy neighbour hood, which I'm not, so it was quite funny.
Throughout the whole bus ride from Stirling station to Karrinyup shopping centre they were bitching about the way I looked, the way I was sitting (on one seat with one leg folded over the other), the way I wore my earrings (double piercings, with small studs in each) and the way I listened to my music (quiet enough that they had to lean forward until they were almost next to me before they could hear it). I found it quite amazing that they could both participate in a conversation about one person neither of them knew personally for thirty-five minutes.
I vowed to try this with my friends (after filling them in on what happenened), and found that we could only keep up an active conversation for a maximum of ten minutes before the temptation to move onto another subject became too much. We were both laughing very, very hard by the end of it, having made the subject of our experiment a mutual friend of ours that likes to dress 'alternatively', more alternatively than me.
If you're my age, try this out. If you're not, join me in marvelling at a teenage girl's ability to bitch.
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