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, January 26, 2002

So, Hottest 100 ack-shawn, right? For the record, I threw a hissy-fit when Paul Dempsey's voice came on at number 2. Not because his voice is really that wonderful, but because that meant Monsters wasn't number 1. Amazing? Pah! Insipid, more like.

Yes, I am the hard rock goth chick. Fear me.

Meanwhile, more on the Garbage commentary. Having now heard Androgeny, and really listened to Cherry Lips, as opposed to laughing at Shirley Manson, I have reached some conclusions. These songs are the musical equivalent of those plastic cheese slices. It's smooth and sleek and plastic-wrapped and almost perfect except that it has no bite. No soul. No oomph. Nothing, in short, that would make me even nod along, let alone mess up my hair by moshing. Far from their halcyon dirty self-titled days.

That's enough Garbage-bashing for one blog, I think, so I'll just shut up about it from now on.

(Oh, wait, one small PS and then I promise I'll shut up. The obsession this mob has with gender and sexual ambiguity make me raise my eyebrows. Something you're not telling us, guys?)

7:38 PM - link to this - (0) comments

My cat was out last night, protecting her patch, yo. Now she's sleeping and I'm pulling little tufts of fur out of her. She's too old for this. It's like Judy Dench going out and kicking ass.

Meanwhile, the people sending me kisses and crushes and happy spells and stuff like that, the problem is that I'm not going to sign up to the silly services to get them and find out who sent them because I am the Apathy Queen (and you shall all bow down before me). Sorry. But I get a warm fuzzy, truly I do.

12:01 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Thursday, January 24, 2002

I really hate making my bed. Have I mentioned that before? Hate it. Making other peoples' beds, that's fine. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm generally paid $9.50 an hour to do that. No one's paying me to make my own bed.

Plus, for the last few days sleep has been something that happens to other people. Except after about 4am, but then I get woken up at 8 by my mother telling me that at this hour, sleep isn't happening to anyone.

What's so good about hospital corners anyway? They're just as easy to pull out. Trust the girl who could disco-sleep in the Olympics. I know my sheets, baby.

11:16 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I've finished my jar of Nutella. Now I'm even less interesting than before.

6:02 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Last night, I let the cat in when she 'knocked' at the back door. (Actually, she's just trying to go through the cat flap in the screen door and is too stupid to realise that the reason she can't is that the door is closed and the cat flap is banging on it.) I apologised profusely for there not being any food for her, and encouraged her to eat biscuits, eventually feeding them to her by hand. I gave her a cuddle, and went to bed. When she jumped up on the bed ten minutes later, I cleared a spot for her. When she rushed to the window fifteen minutes later (straight over the top of me, naturally), I held her up so that she could see out, and make sure there were no other cats running around in her garden. And then I put her back in her spot, and patted her until she lay down in sleeping position. At 3am, when she knocked over my stack of books beside the bed, I picked her up, and gave her a cuddle, and then let her out.

This morning, in return, she threw up in my doorway. Thanks, cat.

11:46 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, January 23, 2002

If I'm online, then the phone can't ring and someone can't ask for my father, which has been happening on average once every half hour, including one memorable stint where the phone rang four times in fifteen minutes. The last one was a telesale girl, who might have been very nice, and under ordinary circumstances I would have told her politely that our house is already clad, but I hoped she had more luck in future, but as it was I was pissed off at the world and the phone-using percentage even more so, and I just screamed incoherently and hung up on her.

6:44 PM - link to this - (0) comments

I have decided that Monica Seles is actually a Cabbage Patch doll. Now I just have to figure out how they got her to stand up and play tennis.

10:05 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Monday, January 21, 2002

Him (with American-style smile): Hello! What can I get you?
Me (with Aussie-style vague): I'm still... thinking... Do you have that satay chicken stuff?
Him: Satay chicken, absolutely. Is that a foot-long or-
Me: Six inch.
Him: On what sort of bread?
Me: White.
Him (eviscerating bread): Would you like any bacon with that?
Me: No thanks.
Him: Any cheese?
Me: No thanks. Just some lettuce, please.
Him: Lettuce? OK. (pause to apply lettuce) Any other salads with that?
Me: No thanks.
Him (now nearing desperateness): Any sauce?
Me: No. (pause) Sorry, I'm boring.

9:08 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, January 20, 2002

Sorry, I can't take it anymore. I could live with the world when Pink's "Get the party started" was number one, but that semi-spanish schmuck currently wailing away in some poppy, disgusting piece of faff is just too much to be borne. There's nothing else for it. I'm simply going to have to stop watching music shows.

In other news, that new Corrs song where they try out different images in the film clip makes me laugh. I liked heavy-metal Corrs. And punk Corrs. When the lead singer goes punk she looks surprisingly like Shirley Manson. At least, I thought so. Give me a break, it was early on Sunday morning, for DOUG's sake.

And meanwhile, I finished A Song for Arbonne. More Guy Gavriel Kay. Obviously, I'm trying to kill my creative writing career before it even gets started. Although this one wasn't as blindingly brilliant as the others. Still very good, but only two moments of tears, and I recognised a couple of the elements from Lions of Al-Rassan, which will remain the peak of literature, as far as I'm concerned. Nevertheless, it's lovely to have Kay I haven't read before. I think I'm going to have to hold off on finding a copy of Tigana, just so I'll always have the warm fuzzy of knowing that no matter what, there's always a Kay book out there that I haven't read yet.

7:57 PM - link to this - (0) comments