Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Julie and Luna

I was watching the film ‘Julie and Julia’ (or is it ‘Julia and Julie’?) the other day, and realised that Julie is just like me. Ok, I only watched the first half (I can’t go against the magical force which is my bed time), so let’s pretend for the purpose of this blog that the second half of the film doesn’t exist (she could, after all, become a serial killer or something of the sort.)

1. She has a blog... so do I.

2. She writes on her blog very frequently, maybe several times a day..... we can pretend that’s true of me.

3. She is cooking her way through a famous chefs cook book and blogging about it..... I am moving my way through my own life and on rare occasion’s blogging about it.

4. She can cook.... this is the part where I say “I can’t cook”, but that isn’t true, I just don’t cook very often which makes me inexperienced and not the best of cooks (which I’m sure would be the same for Julie, had she not made the decision to love cooking and therefore do it regularly.)

5. Julie has readers who send her gifts and money, she is greatly loved by those who follow her blog...... I’m sure it would be much the same for me if I had my address on here, and a paypal system for all of you to send me money.

6. I don’t like eggs.... neither does Julie (until, of course, she tries an egg for the first time and falls in love with them.)

7. Julie caught the train in one or two shots of the film.... I have caught the train before.

8. Many people read her blog and she is overwhelmed with comments.... my time will come.

As you can see, we’re practically soul mates. The only difference between me and Julie is that she is very busy with her job, meeting friends and cooking her way through a cookbook..... I am sitting at home playing cards by myself (although, I must admit, the delight of beating myself is just wonderful.) I guess I’ll have to patiently wait until mid/late December when I catch a train all the way to NSW to meet James Johnston, that’ll be fun.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

To the Video Store and Back

Her blistered feet thumped across the steaming pavement, there was nothing but a pair of thin plastic thongs between her flesh and the hard concreted ground that ran through the park. She picked up her pace, her head still pounding with the sound of shattered glass and drunken laughter echoing from home. All too quickly she reached the local shops, moderately deserted, only the essential stores.
Not knowing what to do or where to go, she decided hastily to visit the video store. She knew that in there she could walk around leisurely for hours without anyone so much as noticing her. She pushed hard on the store door, which was conveniently closed to keep the cool air inside and the hot air out. Feeling a wave of relief as she entered the air conditioned store, she felt suddenly aware of the light dress she was wearing, feeling its weight on her body as if it hadn’t existed all the time she was outside.
Late Friday afternoon and the video store was packed, parents and their children come to choose a film for the night. Happy families, laughing and playfully teasing each other. Maybe she shouldn’t have come to the video store. She headed to the back of the shop, where the horror and thriller films sat hauntingly awaiting their next victims, ready to jump out at any unsuspecting child who wondered unknowingly to the wrong end of the store. Here it was empty of people. Her eyes flicked over the gory covers until she’d had enough and could no longer withhold the mask of bravery she’d put on.
Her eyes met those of a young boy, perhaps three or four years of age, he stared at her for a while, his mattered hair covering the majority of his oversized glasses, after several seconds the staring became less and less innocent and an eerie sensation that the child was dead crossed her mind.
“Michael, come away from the horror section” a tall man placed his hand on the boys shoulder, his hair was much the same as the boys only more tame and groomed, and his glasses were of a suitable size. The child broke his gaze and looked up at his father longingly “you might see something frightening” the man persisted, and led his son away, guiding him to the counter of the store. The boy turned around and looked at her once more, from the corner of his right eye a line of thin crimson liquid streamed down his cheek, he slowly turned his head, took his father’s hand and they silently approached the counter.
“Excuse me” Lily called after the boy and her father “excuse me!” she repeated louder when neither of them responded. Lily walked closer to them, stood on her toes and tapped the man on the shoulder “excuse me, I think your son’s eye is bleeding” she said in her most mature voice, trying to sound sure of herself despite being only eleven. The man turned around, and Lily was too stunned to scream or even talk when he looked down at her with dripping red eyes, under blood splattered glasses.
He and his son quickened to a sprint and left the store, without so much as putting their film back on the shelf. “You have to pay for that!” the cashier shouted after them, oblivious to all that Lily had seen. Too shocked to pursue the man and his son or tell someone what had happened, Lily fearlessly concluded that a house of drunken men would be safer than the unknown of this seemingly ordinary, and yet spine chillingly unordinary, evening out at the shops, and decided to head home.
The sun had not yet fallen, Lily wasn’t used to being able to see so clearly at 7pm, but was glad the evening sky provided her with some comfort and guidance for the short journey home.
She wacked her headphones on her ears and turned up the volume, as to wash out her own horrifying thoughts. It didn’t take long until she was away from the shops and walking alone, down a street of houses.
The upbeat music with its sweetened lyrics added a somewhat creepy feel to Lily’s walk, but she dared not turn it off and be succumbed to the evil powers of her own imagination. The guitars and drums played a familiar tune in her ears, she tapped her fingers gently on her leg to the rhythm, until a strange unheard of instrument began playing a flicking, scratching noise every three or so beats. Lily figured she just hadn’t noticed this particular instrument in the song before, but became more and more certain that it didn’t belong as the song progressed. Eventually she was jolted to the terrifying realisation that this sound may not be coming from her MP3 played and, with a quickening heart beat, lifted the fluffy black headphones of her ears and heard as the flicking noise got further away with the rest of the music. She exhaled in relief and placed the headphones securely back on. But to her horror, the music was no longer playing and all that could be heard was the rhythmic flicking, like a long nail quickly scratching some hard metal surface. She whipped off her headphones and left them of the floor, she was free of the noise but began to run.
She continued to glance behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed, but kept a focused determination on the road ahead and the desire to be at home in bed. She looked back and noticed the shadow of a person reflecting on the pavement meters behind her own shadow, without checking to see who it was she broke into an electrified sprint and ran with more energy than she thought she had and yet less than what she wanted. The person continued to gain on her, from the shadow she could see that he was much larger than herself. The torture of not knowing what her pursuer looked like finally got to Lily, and she looked down the path behind her. There was no one there. She continued to run, with less speed, turning back to make sure no one was there several times.
It took almost five seconds before she noticed the shadow on the ground, still there, still gaining on her. She looked back and saw no person. Whose shadow was it if there was no one after her? Lily stopped running and watched as the shadow approached her own shadow, pulled out a large shadow knife and stubbed her right in the shadow heart. She watched as her shadow clenched at the wound and fell to its knees, she had to check to make sure she wasn’t making the same movements. Lily bent down and touched the darkened outline of ground, but it was just concrete, just a shadow.
Running all the way back home, the light reflected off her but caused no shadow, she reached the door of her house and went inside. She wasn’t surprised to find it unlooked. She cautiously snuck past her father and his friends, who were asleep on the floor of the kitchen, bottles of bear in each of their hands. Once she reached the stairs she ran up them victoriously, she had made it home alive. She grabbed her pyjamas off the end of her bed and pushed open the bathroom door, locking it behind her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes were a shiny scarlet, dripping heavily from their sockets and onto the sink.

Monday, November 2, 2009

lol

It has come to my attention that ‘lol’ is no longer an acronym for ‘laugh out loud.’ These days, when someone actually physically laughs they have to say ‘HAHAHA’ or ‘I actually just loled at that last comment you made!’ even ‘haha’ is often used when the person doesn’t laugh, but is commonly used when they find something funny or amusing. In the present day ‘lol’ is used to ensure that the receiver of the message or comment acknowledges that the conversation is light hearted and not too serious.

For example: “you’re so crazy lol”
Or
“Stop talking about Matthew Lewis lol”

It isn’t an expression of sarcasm, what is being said is meant, but possibly the sender is smiling while writing it or wanting to avoid offending the receiver. ‘lol’ is also commonly used to break up sentences, as a more friendly substitution for a full stop or comer.

For example: “yesterday was so fun lol what are you doing tomorrow?”
Or
“Stop bringing up Matthew Lewis lol ur obsessed”

The moment I realised ‘lol’ no longer represented laughter was when I sent a friend this message:
“Why weren’t you in class today?”
And got the reply
“I was sick lol”
I almost said
“haha yeah that IS pretty funny, I’m laughing out loud at the thought of you being sick at home as well!”
What she actually meant was
“I was sick, but don’t worry, it’s not that bad”

And that’s pretty much all I have to say, this blog is all but dead lol