The Thaw Generation

Thursday, May 25, 2006

The end is nigh

I think I finally have managed to get up the bollocks to quit my depressingly lonely, unfulfilling, generally SHITHOUSE job. As a very lowly public servant who spends all day answering the phone to people who are upset that the Minister I work for (oooooh, cryptic, but I assure you this is a nice state level LABOR minister) won't have a meeting with them... IMMEDIATELY, I should be happy to jettison myself as far off the mouldy old pier that is employment and into the loving arms of Centrelink. But for some reason I can't. I just find it impossible, and every time that I try and do it, they come back to me with the tantalising, but as yet unrealised promise of part-time work, or better yet, the department paying for my HECS. Holy Jesus, can you imagine!? The government paying for me! I know, this is why we pay taxes, kids. So that you can pay for me to get all learned up in stuff. I can hear your little hearts beating with joy.

But the idea of being supported by the Commonwealth Government horrifies me. I wonder if I would be happier if I felt it was the shiney silver dollar of Julia Gillard that was putting me through night school (note to all, I do not attend night school, just early evening school)? I think I might be. But surely as a filthy left-leaning student I am expected to sponge of the hard-working suckers' tax money? I am so confused.

So for now, I just sit and hope that I get the part-time job, because god help us all, you do NOT want to have to hear me whining about job-hunting. Oh no you don't.

That's about all I got in me, people, now it's back to writing about how human rights brought down communism in the Soviet bloc. Wish me luck.

(Speaking of blocs/blocks, go see Dave Chapelle's Block Party. Excellent.)

Wednesday, May 24, 2006


I can't believe that the picture I have chosen to use as my profile shot is a very well known shot of a frog and it is available on magnets that are for sale in the newsagent. Sweet jesus, I thought I was SO clever with my google image search, only to find that I have chosen something that appeals to the lowest possible sense of humour. The humour of a fridge magnet. Damnit all.

So I have been forced to replace it with a shot of a moron.

Monday, May 22, 2006

The panic

Much of my life these days seems to revolve around anxiety and panic. The bizarre part of this is that 9 months ago if you had told me that I would have a problem with anxiety I would've laughed you out of town, well, maybe out of the room anyway. But the past 7 or so months have really been a fricking horror show. It seems that my brain has decided that it will tell me: ABORT, ABORT, GET THE FUCK OUT, SOMETHING IS VERY, VERY, VERY WRONG at the slightest hint of stress. Seriously. This is bad.

Luckily for me I am a pretty upfront person, and decided that I wasn't having a bar of it, and took myself of to the nice lady pyschologist with clear demands for her to fix me... immediately. Only to discover that it's a process. Oh fuck.

So now 7 months down the track I am getting to the point where I can leave the house without that thought in the back of my head that I am going to have an anxiety attack. I can't even explain the JOY of being able to get all the way to work, or uni, or random location and realise that I have made it the whole way there without even thinking that I may lose my shit. I assume that one day (sweet jeebus, let it be soon) I will be able to get to where I am going, do my thang, and turn around and come home to then realise that I have done the whole thing minus my little panic friend.

So kids, if anyone out there is suffering the dread of freaking the fuck out in public and thinking that they are going crazy, take it from me, go talk to someone. Because the feeling of relief that you get when you realise that you are a separate entity from that fucked up little panic buddy of yours is seriously fantastic.

And that, ladies, is the public service announcement for the day.

Good day to you.

PS For those of you who have been here more than once, and read the previous post about me want to leave my job so I can concentrate on my honours, let it be known that I will be giving in my notice on Wednesday. Have a drink for me, and my impending pauperdom.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

What's Cookin'?

Okay, I have a shameful secret. I LOVE cooking shows. In fact I enjoy cooking shows to a truly frightening degree. I have a particular favourite at the moment which is Rick Stein. For some reason, and it's probably because I am doing the (dreadfully boring) "trying to lose weight" thing, I think I enjoy cooking and watching cookery shows more than pretty much anything else at the moment. Good lord, the pain of it all. I think I almost have to stop talking about it, as I can feel myself getting a bit angsty and needing to either go cook something or turn on the TV. Damn it.

I can't quite bring myself to stop talking about cooking, but I will endeavour to stop the chitchat about cooking shows. I have always been worried that enjoying cooking meant that I subscribed to some weird, deeply-entrenched theory that women belong in the kitchen, blah blah blah. So you can imagine my delight when I happened upon the bonafide patriarchy-blamer Twisty, who combines fairly upfront feminism (my favourite kind) and cooking. Very happy indeed.

Now I am sure that you all (hahaha, look at me, I got one comment, and now I am referring to " you all", kill me) have read this article, which I felt really raised important issues about the slime that occupy our radio-waves. That's right, really important issues. Hang on, did anyone ever actually think these guys weren't complete douchebags? Who? That is like saying that Andrew Bolt is a thought provoking intellectual. (PS Did we all read his latest diatribe? Although kudos to ol' Bolta for using the phrase: "the new leprosy of Christianity".) The man is a conservative fool who speaks of "family-values" and "patriotism" in a manner that makes me feel dirty for loving my family and my country. (Apologies for that past sentence, but I do kinda like my family and Australia, and it doesn't matter how you say it, you always end up sounding just a little bit like a Steve Fielding).

Wow, I think I am going to stop now, as I have managed to swap from cooking shows to Bolt-bashing, and despite my absolute love for both, I think that I have veered quickly into a ranty-type moment. I think I'll calm down with a short blast of the Lifestyle Channel.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

A sad day

Okay I am currently sitting on my couch with my cat curled under my arm (don't ask me how this is comfortable for her) and watching a VH1 special on the "25 Videos to get busy to". Hmmmm, this is really very uncomfortable indeed! Especially now people are demanding to know what could be sexier than "Chris Isaak whispering into your ear as he mounts you." WTF!?
I can't think of anything LESS sexy than Chris Isaak anywhere near me. In fact, I have to say that watching that video of Wicked Game makes me feel all a little bit steamed up about Helena Christensen more than anything. She is fucking hot.
But the original point of this post, before I got distracted by the foulness of Chris Isaak, was that I was sitting on the couch watching a Top 25 special on VH1. This really means that I have given up. On most things. Not quite life, but I am possibly the least motivated person I know. Example, right now I need to be doing at least four different pieces of assessment, but what am I doing. That's right: FUCK ALL. I would love to know of how people get motivated, and god I hope it doesn't involve my mother's favourite sentence: "you just have to do it". For fuck's, I KNOW THAT.
But I really should fuck off and do the bloody things. Just thought I should drop a post in, and yes I am aware from the hit counter that very few people read this thing. But I feel that if I kill the blog now then I won't have really given it a crack. That's right people, I am now viewing this blog as something that I have to keep motivated to do. Maybe ranting to an empty webpage will get me going to do all that shit I have to do for school.

I'll keep you posted.

Monday, May 08, 2006


Okay, so the ad on TV at the moment claims that 97% of people believe that a good sense of humour is important in a prospective partner. Now I believe that, but I think that perhaps there needs to be some kind of distinction made in this all important category.

When I think about it I reckon that there are (thinking stats here) around 4% of people that I think are funny. I mean having gone and seen 4 shows at the Comedy Festival (a PB for me) this year I had a 75% strike rate of hilarity. But I did notice that everyone in the venue with me at the one show I found tedious and crapulent found this show HILARIOUS. But I also noticed that I hated everyone in the barn/comedy venue. So I have a new theory:

- Anyone who I assume is a fuckwit, upon first setting eyes on them, will have a shitty sense of humour.

I know, I know, it sounds simplistic, but I challenge you to use this theory and I maintain that it will hold true.

Let me know how you go!

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Suck on that

This is great news.
I guess now we wait to see if the Home Office will continue their policy of removing British citizens from Guantanamo. Wouldn't that be just fucking embarrassing if after all this time, Hicks is declared a British citizen and they managed to have him released whilst the Australians just sat on their hands and pretended they didn't believe that he was consistently being mistreated. I wonder if in 30 years time we'll be studying the US and their use of torture etc., in the same way that I currently study the USSR. Troubling much.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006


At the moment I am going through a dilemma. I can't really get the guts up to quit my job. But I need to so that I can really kick ass in my honours year, which I am starting mid-semester.
I know, it sounds weird that I am having a problem quitting, but to me, it has always been really important to be independent financially, and going back to relying on the government, and *shudder* my parents, is completely fucking horrifying to me. Completely.
I assume that noone reads this outside of me, as I am too much of a baby to tell anyone about it, in case, gasp, someone comes and reads it. But sometimes I wish that there was a silent mass of people who would step forward and give me their advice on matters of concern... Dammit.
Anyone who has done their honours, tell me, honestly, how many hours did you work during it, and what do you think a procrastinator who clings onto any semblence of distraction should work during their honours year. My personal belief is that I should drop out of society for a year, and sit quietly in a room doing nothing but study. But maybe that's a little extreme. FRICK!
Anyway, I had better go and actually get my shit together and get into the fricking course.