I have been contemplating a new layout for a little while now, mainly because 100+ thumbs on the index page is really starting to drain the loading time! (my apologies for you dial up users!!). I'm glad whitepage (ahem, "blognow") is back up and running. I used to use it a little while back until it got shut down.
www.bexterity.com - is my main site with ALL of my shots. please feel free to check it out!!
Anywho.. comments can now be made on each photo or blog entry. Enjoy xo
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You're invited here to read these articles, poems and stories. As well as finding selected works by other writers, you will see links to many other excellent sites. There's a fair tilt of the black and the white here, so please work with that. Enjoy.
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Thanks very much for visiting this foreign place.
The content here belongs to whoever created it. The
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Some lovely person left this one in one of my comments way back and I was very grateful.
I don't know who it's by, but it deserves to be shared. It summons up how I am feeling right now.
The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye
To find a way that I can tell you
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take your tears
I hate this part right here
What is this? Why now, when you have the power to, won't you protect our livestock? Because that's what our whales are, right? Any animal that resides in our territory is our livestock. We wouldn't stand for a bunch of Japanese businessmen coming over here to take off a shipload of our best merinos for 'studying'. Nor do we stand for illegal fishermen coming into our waters to take our fish stock. And there is always an outrage when we hear of someone trying to export a bunch of snake eggs, or baby cockatoos. Would you allow a foreigner to go into a national park and club a heap of koalas to death?
So why should we allow one of our greatest tourism drawcards to be killed off willy nilly, with only the promise of scientific study? Seriously, what kind of useful study can be done on a dead whale that can't be done with a small sample of DNA from a live specimen? Errr..... does whale meat taste more like fish or chicken?
Come on Peter, we all know that the Japanese are treating us like the idiots that we (apparently) are. We should be sending a NAVY ship down to keep an eye on them, with the clear message that our whales are valuable stock, and that the theft and/or death of said stock will not be tollerated.
"Ancient evil" is always a huge cliche in RPG's. Instead, go the opposite. In the distant future, there's a ridiculously powerful and vengeful god-like entity that wants to destroy humanity. It did this in the future, but wants to keep killing dudes. So what does it do? It goes back in motherfucking time to kill dudes in the past. Evil sci-fi space-monster from the future vs. typical RPG protagonist with MAGIC SWORD.
You could have the world be typical fantasy, but that's boring as shit. Instead, it could be like classicalpunk. Ancient Rome, Greece, or Egypt with magic and other cool fantastical bits.
This is a tribute to John Mccain, A TRUE AMERICAN PATRIOT.
It starts with one thing
I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try keep that in mind
I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on, but didn't even know
Wasted it all just to watch you go
I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try, keep that in mind
I designed this rhyme, to explain in due time
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me
I'm surprised it got so (far)
Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me (in the end)
You kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I
Chorus
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know (2x) Chorus
Once Obama's in office, I'm going to be making a lot less money, or should I say keeping a lot less of the money I make. To keep my business afloat, I need to fire at least a half a dozen people next quarter. My issue is that everyone who works for me is important to me, and none of them deserve to be fired. We're all like a family. I don't want to raise the costs of my services either.
Four of my employees, that I know of, voted for Obama. should I let them go first? It seems that this would be the only fair solution.
Even now If I see in my soul the citron-breasted fair one Still gold-tinted, her face like our night stars, Drawing unto her; her body beaten about with flame, Wounded by the flaring spear of love, My first of all by reason of her fresh years, Then is my heart buried alive in snow.
Even now If my girl with lotus eyes came to me again Weary with the dear weight of young love, Again I would give her to these starved twins of arms And from her mouth drink down the heavy wine, As a reeling pirate bee in fluttered ease Steals up the honey from the nenuphar.
Even now If I saw her lying all wide eyes And with collyrium the indent of her cheek Lengthened to the bright ear and her pale side So suffering the fever of my distance, Then would my love for her be ropes of flowers, and night A black-haired lover on the breasts of day.
Even now My eyes that hurry to see no more are painting, painting Faces of my lost girl. O golden rings That tap against cheeks of small magnolia-leaves, O whitest so soft parchment where My poor divorced lips have written excellent Stanzas of kisses, and will write no more.
Even now Death sends me the flickering of powdery lids Over wild eyes and the pity of her slim body All broken up with the weariness of joy; The little red flowers of her breasts to be my comfort Moving above scarves, and for my sorrow Wet crimson lips that once I marked as mine.
Even now They chatter her weakness through the two bazaars Who was so strong to love me. And small men That buy and sell for silver being slaves Crinkles the fat about their eyes; and yet No Prince of the Cities of the Sea has taken her, Leading to his grim bed. Little lonely one, You cling to me as a garment clings; my girl.
Even now I love long black eyes that caress like silk, Ever and ever sad and laughing eyes, Whose lids make such sweet shadow when they close It seems another beautiful look of hers. I love a fresh mouth, ah, a scented mouth, And curving hair, subtle as a smoke, And light fingers, and laughter of green gems.
Even now I remember that you made answer very softly, We being one soul, your hand on my hair, The burning memory rounding your near lips; I have seen the priestesses of Rati make love at moon fall And then in a carpeted hall with a bright gold lamp Lie down carelessly anywhere to sleep.
Even now I mind the coming and talking of wise men from towers Where they have thought away their youth. And I, listening, Found not the salt of the whispers of my girl, Murmur of confused colours, as we lay near sleep; Little wise words and little witty words, Wanton as water, honied with eagerness.
Even now I mind that I loved cypress and roses, clear, The great blue mountains and the small grey hills, The sounding of the sea. Upon a day I saw strange eyes and hands like butterflies; For me at morning larks flew from the thyme And children came to bathe in little streams.
Even now I know that I have savoured the hot taste of life Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast. Just for a small and a forgotten time I have had full in my eyes from off my girl The whitest pouring of eternal light...
I'm sitting here, waiting to hear about my best beloved and I'm fuming and getting mad as hell with him as well as lapsing into deep troughs of sorrow. The thing is, he had a massive heart attack nearly a week ago, managed to grab a nurse's computer for a quick two liner saying he was out of touch and why and I've heard nothing since.
He is not allowed a phone at all, and definitely not the computer and he's in critical care. The thing is, the hospital won't hand out info over the phone as I am not next of kin. Plus, I don't even know what bloody one it is. His dad and his best friend have my number and apparently have been told to call when he's dead so that I can be notified. But being male, I don't suppose they'll update in the interim and so far they haven't. I do not have their numbers.
Yes, I know, this is incredibly stupid. It's something that I've been trying to get on top of for a while now but you have to understand that my time with Ron is extremely limited. In our phone calls and online chats I start off and ask and then he has to go tot he trouble of looking them up as his phone is broken and then we get sidetracked and mushy and pathetic and then he's yanked away for some reason or another. So I write it down in emails but he forgets. Prolonged psychological stress, such as he is suffering, actually does affect the temporal (I think its that one) lobe in the brain. This means that he forgets things and experiences other things that don't actually happen. So his concentration span is very short and it certainly doesn't extend to answering questions that I write to him.
So I'm a not-quite-lady-enough-in-waiting and it is a purely torturous limbo. I don't honestly think he'll survive this attack and my supposition is that he is slowly slipping away, getting weaker and weaker and I will never get a chance to say goodbye to him.
Remember thislady? She wrote a very evocative post about how her illness was hard because she had to give up control of her life when it intruded. I'm just the girlfriend and I've said as much in the past. The lack of control I have right now is so huge that its making me angry. Really angry. Poor Ron. He gets daily emails and phone messages left on his non working phone and he gets called a selfish son of a bitch, and other less kind descriptions, for putting me in this situation, which could be so easily remedied. Then I feel guilty over the top of the rage. Still, no matter how angry I am, I'll always tell him how much I love him because that's true as well. He'll probably never get these messages but that doesn't matter.
Something has changed a little with this latest development. Ms Titty Titty Bang Bang, along with her perceptive remarks about lack of control, also expresses a wish for a finish line to be drawn, something definitive that says 'alright, my cancer is done'. I really want that too, in my own situation. This drawn out flenshing of my nerves is driving me slowly insane, I think, and I don't say that lightly. Now if I can't be with him right at the end, then I want the end right now. I'm trying to save me.
On a more lighthearted note, the anger thing is coming out in rather inappropriate ways. People tell me that they are praying for him and for me and I think that's rather nice. I appreciate it. Of course, its not going to change anything but its helping them feel like they're contributing to the rather awkward social situation of death and thereby helping me. Sometimes I look back at what I say and feel a bit abashed.
The last line of what will probably be the last communication I ever have from him said only this: 'pray for me, honey, it's really bad. I love you'. Actually it said, 'pray for me hiony, ove ytou' but that I presume was morphine spelling and I can translate. But he's never said that before, about the praying, which shows how deeply he's affected by this because he is as pagan as I am ( I always thought).
I was discussing this with somebody and she asked whether I was going to pray or not. I said no. She should have left it at that but she asked for my reasons. I can't pray to any God because to do so means that I admit the presence of an omnisicient, omnipotent, morally perfect being, who has control of things. Other people also claim its a God of love and compassion etc etc.
Assuming that then, then God is either leaving world activities up to total random chance rather than interfere, or God has decided that removing Ron is part of some divine plan which I can't know the reason for but should be comforted by regardless, as part of His divine plan. Either way, in my view it makes God a fucking arsehole and I don't see why I should grovel to him. If He was so loving etc He wouldn't be doing this in the first place. And I don't care if it might be a link in a huge chain to make things better for mankind. I'm selfish and I don't give a stuff about most of the rest of you.
Anyway, this was the gist of my explanation as to why me no kneely, swear words included. But the rest of you out there feel free to pray away. Convince me, please.
I'm so angry at times. Angry at things which really don't matter much. I know this is an overflow from not being able to scream abuse at my beloved, berate him for his dying on the other of the world while I can only wait.
Today I actually found my anger kind of funny. I got really pissed off at the police.
I was driving daughter number one to her boyfriend's place to spend the night (incidentally, when did she get so beautiful? She was always pretty but she's luminescent these days and I can't take my eyes off her. Maybe its because she is young and vibrant and alive and that is so wanted by me in my life, considering the actuality of the alternative).
There was a police booze bus at the bottom of the hill (to overseas readers this means a big coach full of policeman and drug and alcohol tests. They pull you over and test you, check your licences etc. You are not allowed to refuse).
They don't pull over everybody and its completely random as to whether or not you are one of the chosen. They carefully set the bus up so that it covers both sides of the road and so that you can't duck off down side streets. It's very time consuming because everybody slows to a crawl.
Usually, I feel extremely virtuous because I don't drink and drive, and I love to happily blow into the bag and record a negative figure. Although, I did once record first thing in the morning, five minutes after toothpaste and mouthwash; no biggie, though, and they just waited another ten minutes and then it was zero. So, I was slowed right down and Emmy said, 'Hey, Mum, try to pull up next to a cute one!'.
I'm a good mamma. I shuffled the car slowly forward to a youngish cute policeman. He had torch in hand and made the sweeping off to the side movements that mean you're going to have to give a blow job. Then he paused and looked intently at me and instead waved me forward. 'What!' sputtered Em indignantly. I myself was conscious of a feeling of rage. I was prepared for a virtuous random breath test, to prove how good a system I actually am and I didn't get the chance. My reaction was actually way out of proportion and surprised even me. Good thing the window was wound up of he might have have heard the screech of 'What the fuck!" and they don't like that at all. It just seemed as though it was really, really important to me to actually do the test.
Maybe because the rest of my life is so out of control and that would have been a fixed finite positive. There's precious few of those around right now for me.
I was puzzled why he appeared to change his mind though, because it had looked as if we definitely were going to do it.
I thought and thought about it and then I came up with something that might explain it. I think he recognised me and he was being nice, because most people don't care to blow in the bag.
And just how did he recognise me? Spiders.
I wrote about it once upon a time on a different blog. There was an incident at that exact same spot on the road involving me, a large evil furry spider, a motorbike cop and semi nudity.
If you're interested, here it is. I wrote about it again a while ago to try and cheer Ron up.
I was driving back from dropping Emmy off at her boyfriend's place, which is at the bottom of Kalamunda Hill. It has been very sunshiny today and the angle of the sun meant it bounced off a roof up the hill and dazzled me a bit. So i pulled down the sun visor
...only to see a huge fucking great huntsman spider on the other side *shudder*.
You know me and spiders! I screamed hard, instinctively tried to draw my hand as far away as possible but that random move, combined with the radical swerve of the car as I lost my grip on the steering wheel, FLICKED it straight onto my face!
more screaming (I think I went hypersonic) and in trying to claw it off my face punched myself really hard in the nose!
Spidey scampered off my face and onto my shoulder!
Still screaming, I at least had the presence of mind to drive into the side of the road (i wasn't going very fast) and jump out of the car. I couldn't see it and I was running my hands frantically down myself to get rid of it but I couldn't find it . (This is all happening in about 2 seconds by the way). So I stripped off my shirt. And my pants. Amazingly enough, I was wearing panties, in preparation for a beauty treatment, but trust me, standing on the side of the road in your underwear is not a regular occurrence. At least the countless cars that signified their approval as they went past didn't think so. No spider in either item of clothing and I checked up and down, inside and out, and then put my clothes back on.
But the story doesn't end there. Oh no.
You see, as I came around the corner at the base of the hill, there was a traffic cop with a speed gun on the opposite side of the road hidden up a bit. He saw my random swerve, jumped on his bike and sirened after me. Of course, I had already pulled into the side by then and he came up to me as I was taking off my clothes!
I don't honestly know what he said because I was in fucking spider of DEATH mode and it took a little while before I paid him any attention. He then made me blow into a bag, convinced that I was drunk and it wasn't until it came up negative that he accepted the spider explanation and then he laughed so much he could barely stand up.
Nice man, though. He went into the evil cannister of DEATH car and found it on the back of my seat and got rid of it for me. I was allowed to continue my merry way spider free and unticketed, although my legs shook for hours.
I loathe spiders. They appear to know it, also. Anyway, I think that was the same policeman because he sort of grinned and waved me on.
Well I wanted rain and it has come in spades. Luckily though we missed out on the strong wind and hail that hit parts of Brisbane but we have had well over a 100mm so far this month with more promised for today and tomorrow. I have had to pump water out of the pool twice and will do so again in a minute in readiness for today's rain as it is likely to be very heavy. Still shouldn't complain given the drought conditions in much of the country.
Italian class is fun but will have to miss out on the end of year bash as I have to take my daughter to ice skating on the night it is being held. Did anyone say that Italian is easy? Like most languages (I have studied and speak fluently several) they start off easy and the more you get into them the more difficult they become. Currently we are studying verb forms that just do not translate into English. No wonder we have difficulties in understanding Italians who are newish to the country trying to translate their Italian into English!!
The other day we heard from our landlord of the house in which we stayed when we were in Italy. It is always good to have to translate and respond in real time to real Italian as it is currently spoken and not from a text book. A friend who recently returned from a European trip showed us some photos the other day including parts of Italy. Oh I do want to go back!!
Anyway must go for my walk before today's rains come. Ciao
I recently purchased a new laptop that is equipped with WiFi. I can now finally be one of those people that I have despised for so long - the people who hang around cafes like Starbucks wearing chic urban gear and colourful glasses (my glasses are still conservatively coloured). I always ridiculed how pretentious people look when they sit in cafes and tap away at laptops, but I have been lured by the promise of free internet access and the chance to get away from my apartment. There is something quite refreshing about working in a public area – the snippets of conversation and the movement outside the café all comfort me in a way that an empty apartment cannot.
That’s not to say that pretentious people do not like hanging around Starbucks. When I was testing out my new laptop at Starbucks on Friday, I came across a very pretentious North American. He sat at the table beside mine, with both a laptop and a page of typed manuscript sitting in front of him. At a glance, he appeared to be about 35 years old. Judging by the typed manuscript, he was probably an English teacher putting way too much effort into his job.
The man’s voice first entered my head when he talked in Chinese on his mobile phone. His Chinese was not bad, but it was still jerky like the Chinese of most foreigners. He steadfastly tried to infuse humour into his speech, but it sounded more like arrogance. His tone of voice inferred that he was in complete control of his second language when in fact he sounded very much like a laowai. (I did not need to look at him because I knew a foreigner was speaking Chinese from his jerky way of speaking.)
At around 5:30pm, the man stood up and was preparing to leave Starbucks. Before he left, he stepped over to a nearby table and started up a conversation with a young woman. Speaking Chinese, he asked her what she was studying. “Business,” she replied in English. The man continued to speak in Chinese and the woman eventually said “your Chinese is really good.”
The whole episode made me feel uncomfortable. It seemed like the man was showing off his Chinese and fishing for compliments. I really do not think there is any reason to show off your Chinese in China. Do you really want to be compared to Dashan? In my opinion, Chinese people are not at ease with foreigners speaking their language with a decent level of proficiency. Two responses are likely – they will either deride your Chinese level by saying that you know ‘a little bit of Chinese’ or they will exaggerate your proficiency by saying that your Chinese is ‘incredible’ but the tone of their voice is always slightly condescending.
People like the man I encountered are living in a fairy world if they think it is worthwhile to show off their Chinese. I have really started to hate speaking Chinese – I cannot deal with the strain of conversing with someone who thinks it is strange to be talking to a laowai in their mother tongue. I also struggle with the false compliments. I know that my Mandarin is better than some people from Hong Kong, but I also know that they do not feel the same strain as me. They look like Chinese and that is the most important thing.
It's a sign of how much I love the guy that I am even sitting at this computer, trying to write to him (I don't know whether he'll even get to read it but its the writing thats important).
I am still housesitting at my mums and using her computer, which is a desktop, next to a large glass window.
Said window has a fucking huge grey and black spider walking all over it. It's at least 3 inches across and furry and fanged and legged and stripey and...... *shudders*......It's on the outside of the window but I'm not convinced that it definitely will stay there. The window is shut but these spiders are smart fuckers and probably have special breaking and entering skills.
In any case, it just KEEPS WALKING UP AND DOWN AND AROUND SO THAT I CAN SEE ALL OF ITS NASTY FURRY FANGED LOATHSOMENESS and I'm whimpering and cringing and not doing terribly well at all. I might also be crying a bit because I am terribly scaredy cat when it comes to these things and I'm consider that I've been strong and brave enough for quite a long time now, what with the situation of my boyfriend dying and all, and adding big fucking furry spiders with TEETH into the equation just seems too much.
Actually, forget whimpering and cringing and crying a bit. I am flat out howling. I have had enough.
My son's girlfriends mother passed away at home late last evening. She was only 47. She had been ill for many years, after her pregnancies her auto-immune system failed and finally last night her vital organs failed. What suffering she has been through. I feel so sad, her daughter is motherless at 16. Just when a girl needs her mum. I spent last night with my daughter at a family reunion with girls or my extended family, we went bowling at then out for pizza, us cousins hardley ever meet up but we made the effort to finally catch up and some of us with our daughters. I had a wonderful night, laughed, enjoyed my daughters company, felt such pride for her, felt happy. As I walked in the front door my son called to me from upstairs, he wanted me so I went up to him, he was in the bathroom getting ready to go to girlfriends house after getting the call from his girlfriend about her mothers passing. I was immediately devasted ....both mother and daughter will never again spent a night like I had passed, in each others company. I cried for them both.....what great losses for both of them. Mother won't see her daughter become a woman, all those joyous milestones, daughter cannot share them with her mother. What loss. Oh, of all the mercies I have had in life the most precious is seeing my children become adults, I am so grateful for that. I keep thinking how hard it must have been for the mother to have left behind her children....God...how cruel, to be robbed of that priveledge. Darling son. beautiful boy, his rock for his girl, I am so proud of him, his tenderness for her.
• 15/11/2008 - I'm sick of pretending that things are ok
Posted By kitty
Actually, mostly they are ok and I can deal with them. But tonight I'm not doing well at all.
I'm on my own (my daughters have very intensive weekend social plans and I haven't told them the full story anyway - they just know he's not well). I'm on the other side of the world and I'm waiting, I'm just waiting.
I can't even try to be positive because I'm not the sort of person who is unrealistic and clings to tiny bright sparks of hope. I don't have any religious faith to cling to; to think that things might get better or that its all part of some divine plan. It must be comforting a little if you can believe that but I'm pragmatic and quite frankly, I can't see any way in which the loss of him will be better for either of us.
All can do is wait to hear. He's very ill.
Silly isn't it? I just wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice one last time; it has been such a long time since I've heard it, even though we've been in contact via email and online chat.
I wanted to be holding his hand when he died, to have him know how much I loved him. He does know that, of course, but I wanted to be there.
This came very suddenly; he was actually going to be released from hospital. We had a lovely online chat and talked about a little bit of a future. He had one last test to do and then they were letting him go. That last test triggered a massive attack. Although he didn't die immediately, he's not strong at all and it doesn't look like like he has the fortitude to recover from it.
So I sit here and I listen for the phone and I feel so helpless. There is nothing worse than not being able to do anything, anything at all. I thought I'd cried all my tears out; come to acceptance. I feel very much alone tonight.
I know it sounds a weeny bit cynical but....I firmly believe this quote. Hence, I will no longer do good deeds....somehow they always backfire on me or more is expected from me. You know give an inch and someone else takes a mile. Why only on Wednesday I had yet another fine example of this. A bloody client asked me if I had any high quality shampoo and conditioner in bulk form for her to purchase. I didn't really but I did have some put away for my daughter so I said she could have it. Oh she was so delighted...but had no money left on her. She offered to wait till her next appointment which is a 3 monthly colour cut blow dry or would I mind if she direct deposited to my account immediately, oh, she could do it now if I wanted from my computer upstairs ( my son's actuall mine died months again and hasn't been replaced seein as money is tight cos gee we are building so we are living of the smell of a friggin oily rag) and I didn't really fancy her going through our house with her 3 year old son etc etc. I was thinking why friggin ask for something if you can't pay for it? Then I asked if she would be passing this way sometime ( not like I live in Timbucktoo) and she said oh, not really. So..what does muggins do?Yep gave it to her, with my banking details, she was going to go home and transfer it immdeiately!!! Yep you guessed it, it is now Sat no deposit, I should have predicted it....the fact she rocked up half hour late for appointment, the fact I had to ring her to check she was still coming...those were big clues huh?
So what pisses me most is I will have to be in the position of calling her up and chasing my money...which is rather a signficant amount considering the quality and size of products. This chickybabe is a enthusiastic ebayer...yeah,, and the sllers out there do send her her items without her paying for them first don't they? NOT!!!
I am soooooooo pissed off with myself for having been taken advantage off yet again.
I hate being put in that position...where to deny could lose me a client cos it seems like I dont trust them.
God, I just hate the whole thing.
I am so sick of having to be friggin nice...perptetually friendly to clinets who I wouldn't give the time of day to normally.
Sick of selling myself to clients and feeling shit about it.
