Ouch, I have lost myself again

I don't really know what I will do with all this life and it appears there is an awful lot of it left.
I don't want to be my mother, but what am I going to do instead?
Half way through lunch I noticed the weevils in my cous cous.

I think I might break

I've been watching the finale episode of Six Feet Under and I have that last song in my head, going round and round.
Help...
... it's doing things to me ... I think...

Simon me gave a run down on all the behind-the-scenes technical aspects and difficulties they must have faced in it's making; like why it goes all jumpy and sped up when they switch from film to some kind of HD. I wanted to share my literary annalysis of David's confrontation with his red-hooded demon, but no one cares. Where are you Cara, you would care, where are you?

Luke says I shouldn't try to apply a literary annalysis to everything; like Vice Magazine, for example. - This is something we argue about, we did it again in Black Cat just yesterday. - I say you can, that everything is a text, and that reading into it all too much is what makes us human... But yes, I do see how some might think it can be a dangerous and silly thing to compare your own life with a story...maybe... and so is smoking ... and so is keeping a blob. Cheers all those things that we might do secretly or alone sometimes.

Well I'll be Rooned

I went for a few quiet drinks with friends last night at the Yacht Club and then Black Cat.
Then I woke up at 6am and saw Death with a bottle of Jaegermeister inviting to sit on his lap for a bit. I declined the offer and he left me with a complimentary headache, sore eyes and what I'm pretty sure was an enormous moth with a brick tied to it's ankle frigging about inside my stomach. I wish I'd just said yes.

Three drinks and I'm out.
How does that happen?

Maybe I should have eaten more... but my boss told me I was becoming a bit of a fatty the other day.

I just got told today I am not going to be a mailroom clerk too. I feel ruined, RUINED, rooned.

Yeah, oh woe is me etc.

But really, what else is this for?

This afternoon, Luke, dragging me by the elbow along Sydney Rd to a cosy lunch at Thom Phat that would only distract me from my cold bath in hung-over misery, I thought, "Death, come back, give me a hug and let me wallow with you." And you know what, I thought he just might, but then Luke gave me a hug and my Pad Thai arrived.

The Blue Velvet Fog Stopped Working Yesterday.

I was on my way to a job interview and I was going to be late.

My brother and I had to walk along Main Rd together. I carried my good shoes in a brown paper bag and let important papers fall from my folder like the last and forgotton few autumn leaves as I stuggled to keep up and my mobile went nuts.

ME: Simon, this is crap, I feel poor, I feel like that family in the "Grapes of Wrath" carrying all this stuff and looking for work, it's embarrassing.

SIMON: Yes, I hate walking along Main Rd too; I can feel everyone having a good look at me as they drive passed.


A car goes passed with a yelling head sticking out at us.


SIMON: Why do they do that, I can never understand what it is that they are saying?

ME: I bet a bus comes passed right now, we should have got a bus!


A bus goes passed


ME: Fuck


An old lady gives me an evil.


SIMON: Stop swearing!

ME: Not you. (To the old lady)

Simon I'm getting all sweaty, Simon I'm going to be smelly in my interview!


We are arriving at the station

SIMON: Don't worry you have fortyfive minutes on the train to air off, you'll be fine, here, change your shoes and I'll take your old ones home with me. Take my ticket, it'll save time buying one. Don't foget to call them on the train and apologise for being late and don't worry, you'll be fine. Goodluck!



I like my little brother, somewhere we must have changed places, he looks after me now. He's always the calm, sensible one when I'm busy constructing quaint moments of crisis. Thank you Simon.

What I need

I just got back from an interview with a recruiting agency. I told them I was hoping for "...An entry level position with the opportunity to develop, (...) I'm really hoping for something like front-of-house reception and associated administrative tasks, (...) for a company with a creative edge would be a bonus." They are offering me an interview for a position as a mailroom clerk for a law firm (guh!). I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't know I could make more money pulling beers and banging out lattes and which I'd rather be doing anyway. It's a shame, I simply cannot see a future in my brief affair with the hospitality (so-called) "industry", and I was just getting to know my wines, but, it's time to move on.

I was feeling a bit lost,
So, I took Dell's advice;
I tried it.

• Jen needs to have a session or two with a therapist.
• Jen needs to be a My Little Pony!
• Jen needs a break.
• Jen needs your help
• Jennifer needs a cold shower
• Jennifer needs a smack daddy
• Jen needs to get a life
• Jenny needs to demonstrate more self control
• Jenny needs to curb her socializing in class
• DJ JEN NEEDS YOU!!!
• Jennifer needs to be in a mental health facility RIGHT NOW
• Jen needs friends
• Jen needs him
• Jen needs a new gun petition
• Jen needs more time to work through her part in the dissolution
• Jen needs to stop shopping
• Jen needs to do something with her physical self
• Jen needs to eat a meal
• Jen needs the money
• Jen needs to get over it
• Jen needs to forgive her mother
• Jen needs to find a self righteous, conspicuous "I'm better than you" charitable position.
• Jen needs your feedback


It's true, I do need to be a My Little Pony and in an "I'm better than you" position.

I new gun petition wouldn't go astray either.

But, some of this seems rather insensitive, why does my google needs list have to so immediatly call my mental stability into question?