dee - viscerate.com

GIRL
Diana Evans
called Dee
since May 25th, 1980
terrorising inner-city Melbourne
consuming flat whites
producing words, hers and other people's
contact dee [at] viscerate [dot] com

SITE
viscerate.com
consisting of personal reflections
photography by Amy Q
archives here

Saturday, September 29, 2001

Aargle. I'm working tonight as bar and function staff for my college's 30th anniversary convocation dinner. I have to wear a bow tie as part of my uniform. Which means I have to button my shirt up to the top. I had a hard enough time just finding a white shirt that would go all the way up. I feel like I'm choking. I'm seeing stars. I'm not going to make it, kids. I'm going to be doing the traditional two fingers under the collar all night.

Sod it. Whose idea of fun is this, anyway?

(Note to self: buy shoelaces.)

6:48 PM - link to this - (0) comments

From Empire Magazine, a brilliant publication entirely about movies that I bought for something to read at the train station and simply fell in love with:

George Clooney, when asked if he was the cause of Julia Roberts' and Benjamin Bratt's split: "I didn't have time. I was too busy breaking up Tom and Nicole's marriage."

I can't stand the man, but gee, that's funny.

6:29 PM - link to this - (0) comments

All right, own up. Who snuck into my room and left an electronic typewriter on my desk?

2:50 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Friday, September 28, 2001

The game's called "Trials and Triumphs". Play not there, if you value your respect for mankind in general, and staff in particular.

First login: I browse through the news, and find no information about the application (apping) procedure. While distracted by another window, my login times out.

Second login: I check the staff list. Ah! Six of them are online. But wait... none of them are available. On the guest channel, I ask who I should talk to regarding apping. Ten minutes later, with no response, my login times out.

Third login: Check the staff list again. Goodie, now one of them is active, at least. I page her, asking about apping. After two minutes, she tells me it's online. I ask a couple of questions about my character concept. She has no enthusiasm, and hence fills me with none.

Compare it with "Fading Suns", where the staff and older players were attentive, friendly, cheerful, helpful, thoroughly enthusiastic and happily put up with me asking a million questions, and this T&T place really sours. I'm considering apping, just to be a pain in the arse of the inept staff. And because they'll let me play Kabuki. Rah.

2:44 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Oohhhhh, yeah. Haven't had coffee in a week and a half, and boy that's good stuff.

1:10 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Thursday, September 27, 2001

Something for Kate. Every playlist should have one. Mine has 26. Get yours today. I recommend everything, but especially 'Electricity'. Go forth and download. That means you.

They all played barefoot at the last gig I saw, which was the 'Echola-la-lalia' (or whatever) tour.

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And a small voice asked: "Where is Elfwood?"

9:26 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Frontier Psychiatrist: "So, lie here on the bar and tell me: When did you first discover that you hated your horse?"
Maladjusted Cowboy: "But, I don't hate my horse!"
Frontier Psychiatrist: "Aaah, but does your horse hate you?"

The Male has the original Wayne and Schuster recording. It was funny.

9:11 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I'm contemplating changing the name of the blog. For various reasons. The title was something I conceived of in two seconds, when idly starting up my weblog, and put on the spot about what I wanted to call it. Puns spring quickly to my mind, and this one leapt up. But, well... it really doesn't have that much to do with me, you know. I don't feel any special affinity with fish. I don't even like eating them. It has no relation to the domain name. For a while I got people commenting on the John Irving relation, and I felt like I was acting under false pretenses, because at the time I hadn't even read The World According To Garp.

So yeah, I'm thinking of maybe morphing the name to something a little more related to me and the domain name. Maybe I'm just bored. Maybe, after a year and a half, I feel I deserve a change. Anyway, do you think I should make the switch? And do you have suggestions for names? Drop me a line.

In the player: (the best of) New Order and Depeche Mode - Singles 86>98. I'm so old-skool, it hurts.

10:42 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, September 26, 2001

The email has finally stopped at 178 new messages. And that's just in the inbox. We won't even start adding up all the subboxes that have things going straight into them. Gah. (So, yes, I'm back, I'm bad, I'm running on three hours sleep somewhere early in the week and the sheer willpower only a McChicken Meal can provide.)

The week in review:

The trip down. The guy sitting next to me on the train travelled in a cloud of stale nicotine and tobacco. He spent his time messaging someone on his mobile phone and assaulting my sense of smell. It wasn't too bad, though, because he seemed to have an inability to sit still for more than half an hour at a time, and kept getting up and disappearing for long stretches. Probably to renew his personal atmosphere. Or maybe he was shooting up in the toilets. I noticed, when I was forced to use the facilities, that there was a needle disposal unit. I personally think that anyone trying to find a vein on a rocking, jolting train deserves everything they get.

The relatives. If you can possibly avoid it, or are not Italian yourself, do not get involved with an Italian. I have been kissed by more people in the past week than in most of my life to date. I've been babbled at in Italian so much that it's possibly a miracle I haven't returned with any of the language myself. Nonna spoke pretty much only Italian, but she thought I was wonderful. At least, the way the threw the Male aside to embrace me suggests it. Or maybe her slight dementia had taken a hand, and she'd concentrated so much on remembering me that she'd forgotten he was important too. (Or maybe it's just that I'm prettier than he is. Smell better too, I imagine.) They were all wonderful to me, though, and cooked the most beautiful food, apparently without really thinking about it. I felt quite unworthy, and very much in awe.

The city. Is beautiful. Oh my yes. I love the feel of it, beautiful old gothic buildings, complete with gargoyles, nestled amongst glass skyscrapers. Trees, parks, trams, little alleyways turned into chic markets. I love it, because I laugh at it, and sometimes with it, and revel in the atmosphere and laugh at myself. I certainly don't take it seriously. But I think I could quite easily live there for a year or two. Just long enough to fully appreciate it. Not long enough to be totally overpowered by it. Oh, and I could handle staying at the Crown for a week or two as well. The word 'sumptuous' barely covers it.

The trip back. Also know as the Hellfire and Damnation Express. Two hours late to begin with, leaving me huddled on an arctic platform, thumbing through Empire with numbing fingers. Behind me, four teenage girls of the itchy-trigger-finger variety. They didn't shut up for the entire journey, I'm absolutely certain. Between them, they had two mobile phones, two game boys and a walkman. I have nothing but pity for people who can't entertain themselves for at least half an hour purely alone - just them and their brain. They talked about boys, make-up, music. Rinse and repeat. Ad Nauseum. When I had to change to a bus, there was a baby right behind me. It screamed on and off in a strangely rhythmical fashion most of the way home.

And I staggered home to my email. Somewhere in here are messages I actually want to read. But for now.... sleep. (It's good to be back. Holidays are good, but I like the comfort of home.)

9:42 PM - link to this - (0) comments