Smurfette's Rambles... version Ani

FEATURES
[x] weblog [x] cliques & fanlistings [x] meme [x] droolage [x] icony goodness [x] Anti-War LJ Icons [x] livejournal [x] deadjournal [x] link here [x] maudlin poetry

CONTACT
[x] email [x] aim [x] yim

NO WAR!
"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." -- Dr Martin Luther King, jr. [x] Amnesty International [x] Anti-War [x] Banners and Us [x] Bring Them Home Now [x] Code Pink [x] Common Dreams [x] EPIC [x] Email John Howard [x] EndTheWar.org [x] Greenpeace [x] International A.N.S.W.E.R [x] Iraq Peace Pledge [x] MoveOn.org [x] National Philistine [x] No War Blog [x] Nonviolence.org [x] Not in Our Name [x] Patriots for Peace [x] Peace Action [x] Peaceful Tomorrows [x] Student Peace Action Network [x] United for Peace [x] Veterans Against the Iraq War [x] Veterans for Peace Thanks to Anna and Righteous Babe Records for many of these links

ARCHIVES
[x] June 2002 [x] July 2002 [x] August 2002 [x] September 2002 [x] October 2002 [x] November 2002 [x] December 2002 [x] January 2003 [x] February 2003 [x] March 2003 [x] April 2003 [x] May 2003

DESKTOP
Sylvia Plath-inspired The Gift wall by TNS @ Dying of the Light

TO DO LIST
Finish Buffy Defence essays Get Copper's website up ~~Beta BL~~ Buy new shoes Tidy room Call Cat ~~Call Lizzie~~ Email Lisa ~~Arnotts icons~~ ~~Find H birthday present~~

WEBRINGS
< # Buffy Blogs ? > « aussie blogs » << ? Earshot # >> - ? prozac nation # + << ! B/A Shipper ? >> << ? Pro Choice Is Not Anti Life # >>

QUOTEY
"There's a fine art to growling. Most men will never get a real growl off in their entire pathetic lives... a real growl starts deep in the chest and rumbles up. If you growl when you've got someone pressed against you, they should be able to feel it. Feeling the way it rumbles is part of a growl -- but if you're really good at it you can get 'em from across the room, just by hearing it." -- Diebin, Every Noisy Inch

l Monday, March 31, 2003

I know, I just posted a way-long entry and this will be my third for the day... but I have to share.

Copper told me I had to read something that Kita linked to in her LiveJournal, and I have to tell everyone here to read it, too.

It's a post by The Brat Queen on mental illness, depression in particular, and she hits it spot on.

You can read it here. And please do.
:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 11:10 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 31, 2003
I know, I just posted a way-long entry and this will be my third for the day... but I have to share. Copper told me I had to read something that Kita linked to in her LiveJournal, and I have to tell everyone here to read it, too. It's a post by The Brat Queen on mental illness, depression in particular, and she hits it spot on. You can read it here. And please do. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 11:10 PM [x] ::

l
I've been listening to the Indigo Girls of late, and now I'm craving Willow/Tara. I think I'm all set for a selected-scenes viewing of season 4,then Family, selected scenes of The Body and the final act of The Gift. Tissues, here I come ;) I've either finished or almost finished 61 shippy icons with the words "There is no substitute for quality" on them... and only two of them are B/A. Gulp. And I've got some pics still on my harddrive to do... Angelus/Willow, Giles/Jenny etc... and I still have to get some that I want of Willow/Oz, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara in Seeing Red, Xander/Willow in Lover's Walk... and I can't find a screen-cap of the moment in Innocence where Angelus kisses Spike's head anywhere. I can find the moment after, and I can find the moment before, but I want the moment of connection, dammit!! Anyone able to help? Michael Moore's article on his reasons behind that speech was printed in The Age today. I suggest anyone wanting to avoid my Michael Moore Love go to my livejournal, because I'll be using cuts there. I fully support what Michael said in his acceptance speech. I would have been disappointed with anything less; this is the author of "Stupid White Men" and... well... watch his documentary. He would have been hypocritical if he'd not said anything. It would have been invasion of the body-snatchers. If you missed the speech, this is what he said (curtesy of Oscars.com): Whoa. On behalf of our producers Kathleen Glynn and Michael Donovan from Canada, I'd like to thank the Academy for this. I have invited my fellow documentary nominees on the stage with us, and we would like to - they're here in solidarity with me because we like nonfiction. We like nonfiction and we live in fictitious times. We live in the time where we have fictitious election results that elects a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man sending us to war for fictitious reasons. Whether it's the fictition of duct tape or fictition of orange alerts we are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush, shame on you. And any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up. Thank you very much. This is what he had to say (like I said, I read it in The Age, but it's also available at his website): Why I made that speech Something had to be said at the Oscars about the war. Michael Moore explains why he was the one to say it. A word of advice to future Oscar winners: don't begin Oscar day by going to church. That is where I found myself last Sunday morning, at the Church of the Good Shepherd on Santa Monica Boulevard, at Mass with my sister and my dad. My problem with the Catholic Mass is that sometimes I find my mind wandering after I hear something the priest says, and I start thinking all these crazy thoughts like how it is wrong to kill people and that you are not allowed to use violence upon another human being unless it is in true self-defence. The Pope even came right out and said it: this war in Iraq is not a just war and, thus, it is a sin. Those thoughts were with me the rest of the day. I had not planned on winning an Academy Award for Bowling for Columbine (no documentary that was a big box-office success had won since Woodstock), and so I had no speech prepared. Besides, I had already received awards in the days leading up to the Oscars and used the same acceptance remarks. I spoke of the need for non-fiction films when we live in such fictitious times. We have a fictitious US President who was elected with fictitious election results. He is now conducting a war for a fictitious reason (the claim that Saddam Hussein has stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction when in fact we are there to get the world's second-largest supply of oil). We are continually bombarded with one fictitious story after another from the Bush White House. And that is why it is important that filmmakers make non-fiction, so that all the little lies can be exposed and the public informed. An uninformed public in a democracy is a sure-fire way to end up with little or no democracy at all. That is what I have been saying for some time. Millions of Americans seem to agree. My book Stupid White Men still sits at No. 1 on the US bestseller list. Bowling for Columbine has broken all box-office records for a documentary. My website is now getting up to 20 million hits a day (more than the White House's site). My opinions about the state of the United States are neither unknown nor on the fringe, but rather they exist with mainstream majority opinion. The majority of Americans, according to polls, did not want to go into this war without the backing of the United Nations and all of America's allies. That is where the US is at. It's liberal, it's for peace and it is only tacitly in support of its leader because that is what you are supposed to do when you are at war and you want your kids to come back from Iraq alive. In the commercial break before the best documentary Oscar was to be announced, I suddenly thought that maybe this community of film people was also part of that American majority and just might have voted for my film. I leaned over to my fellow nominees and told them that, should I win, I was going to say something about President Bush and the war and would they like to join me up on the stage? They all agreed. Moments later, Diane Lane opened the envelope and announced the winner: Bowling for Columbine. The entire main floor rose to its feet for a standing ovation. I was immeasurably moved and humbled as I motioned for the other nominees to join my wife (the film's producer) and me up on the stage. I then said what I had been saying all week at those other awards ceremonies. I guess a few other people had heard me say those things too because before I had finished my first sentence about the fictitious president, a couple of men (some reported it was "stagehands" just to the left of me) near a microphone started some loud yelling. Then a group in the upper balcony joined in. What was so confusing to me, as I continued my remarks, was that I could hear this noise but, looking out on the main floor, I didn't see a single person booing. But then the majority in the balcony - who were in support of my remarks - started booing the booers. It all turned into one humungous cacophony of yells and cheers and jeers. And all I'm thinking is, "Hey, I put on a tux for this?" I tried to get out my last line ("Any time you've got both the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, you're not long for the White House") and the orchestra struck up its tune to end the melee. (A few orchestra members came up to me later and apologised, saying they had wanted to hear what I had to say.) I had gone 55 seconds, 10 more than allowed. Was it appropriate? To me, the inappropriate thing would have been to say nothing at all or to thank my agent, my lawyer and the designer who dressed me. I made a movie about the American desire to use violence both at home and around the world. My remarks were in keeping with exactly what my film was about. If I had a movie about birds or insects, I would have talked about birds or insects. I made a movie about guns and Americans' tradition of using them against the world and each other. And, as I walked up to the stage, I was still thinking about the lessons that morning at Mass. About how silence, when you observe wrongs being committed, is the same as committing those wrongs yourself. And so I followed my conscience and my heart. On the way back home, the day after the Oscars, two flight attendants told me how they had been stuck overnight in my home state -- and wound up earning only $30 for the day because they are paid by the hour. They said they were telling me this in the hope that I would tell others. Because they, and the millions like them, have no voice. They don't get to be commentators on cable news like the bevy of retired generals we've been watching all week. (Can we please demand that the US military remove its troops from ABC/CBS/NBC/CNN/MSNBC/Fox?) They don't get to make movies or talk to a billion people on Oscar night. They are the American majority who are being asked to send their sons and daughters over to Iraq to possibly die so Bush's buddies can have the oil. Who will speak for them if I don't? That's what I do, or try to do, every day of my life, and March 23, 2003 - though it was one of the greatest days of my life and an honour I will long cherish - was no different. Except I made the mistake of beginning it in a church. Michael Moore won an Academy Award for Bowling for Columbine. This article first appeared in the Los Angeles Times. And I gotta say, I agree with every word he says. But then, I wanna bear his children, so I may be slightly biased. The best of the other opinion articles today was the one by Matthew Ricketson, Turn down the volume, turn up the quality in The Age. I don't know about you but in the week-and-a-half of war in Iraq, what I wanted was a glass of water to slake my thirst. Instead, I'm plastered against the wall, soaking wet - and still thirsty. Not for information; I'm drowning in that courtesy of hours spent watching 24-hour news channels where it is hard to see where one bulletin ends and another begins. No, at the risk of pushing the metaphor, the water is muddy with propaganda, special pleading and vested interests. I need it filtered. I think that he has it right... I'm so wary at the moment... what is it that Ani says? "The media is not fooling me". Everything, from both sides, in this war is tainted with propaganda. We cannot escape that. Everything is filled with spin, and every "on-the-spot" report is changed within the hour. We're being inundated with information, but everything we're drowning in is so spin-filled and muddied with propaganda we can't swim to save ourselves. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 10:04 PM [x] ::

I've been listening to the Indigo Girls of late, and now I'm craving Willow/Tara. I think I'm all set for a selected-scenes viewing of season 4,then Family, selected scenes of The Body and the final act of The Gift. Tissues, here I come ;)

I've either finished or almost finished 61 shippy icons with the words "There is no substitute for quality" on them... and only two of them are B/A. Gulp. And I've got some pics still on my harddrive to do... Angelus/Willow, Giles/Jenny etc... and I still have to get some that I want of Willow/Oz, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara in Seeing Red, Xander/Willow in Lover's Walk... and I can't find a screen-cap of the moment in Innocence where Angelus kisses Spike's head anywhere. I can find the moment after, and I can find the moment before, but I want the moment of connection, dammit!! Anyone able to help?

Michael Moore's article on his reasons behind that speech was printed in The Age today. I suggest anyone wanting to avoid my Michael Moore Love go to my livejournal, because I'll be using cuts there.

I fully support what Michael said in his acceptance speech. I would have been disappointed with anything less; this is the author of "Stupid White Men" and... well... watch his documentary. He would have been hypocritical if he'd not said anything. It would have been invasion of the body-snatchers.

If you missed the speech, this is what he said (curtesy of Oscars.com):

Whoa. On behalf of our producers Kathleen Glynn and Michael Donovan from Canada, I'd like to thank the Academy for this. I have invited my fellow documentary nominees on the stage with us, and we would like to - they're here in solidarity with me because we like nonfiction. We like nonfiction and we live in fictitious times. We live in the time where we have fictitious election results that elects a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man sending us to war for fictitious reasons. Whether it's the fictition of duct tape or fictition of orange alerts we are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush, shame on you. And any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up. Thank you very much.

This is what he had to say (like I said, I read it in The Age, but it's also available at his website):

Why I made that speech

Something had to be said at the Oscars about the war. Michael Moore explains why he was the one to say it.

A word of advice to future Oscar winners: don't begin Oscar day by going to church. That is where I found myself last Sunday morning, at the Church of the Good Shepherd on Santa Monica Boulevard, at Mass with my sister and my dad. My problem with the Catholic Mass is that sometimes I find my mind wandering after I hear something the priest says, and I start thinking all these crazy thoughts like how it is wrong to kill people and that you are not allowed to use violence upon another human being unless it is in true self-defence.

The Pope even came right out and said it: this war in Iraq is not a just war and, thus, it is a sin.

Those thoughts were with me the rest of the day. I had not planned on winning an Academy Award for Bowling for Columbine (no documentary that was a big box-office success had won since Woodstock), and so I had no speech prepared. Besides, I had already received awards in the days leading up to the Oscars and used the same acceptance remarks. I spoke of the need for non-fiction films when we live in such fictitious times. We have a fictitious US President who was elected with fictitious election results. He is now conducting a war for a fictitious reason (the claim that Saddam Hussein has stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction when in fact we are there to get the world's second-largest supply of oil).

We are continually bombarded with one fictitious story after another from the Bush White House. And that is why it is important that filmmakers make non-fiction, so that all the little lies can be exposed and the public informed. An uninformed public in a democracy is a sure-fire way to end up with little or no democracy at all.

That is what I have been saying for some time. Millions of Americans seem to agree. My book Stupid White Men still sits at No. 1 on the US bestseller list. Bowling for Columbine has broken all box-office records for a documentary. My website is now getting up to 20 million hits a day (more than the White House's site).

My opinions about the state of the United States are neither unknown nor on the fringe, but rather they exist with mainstream majority opinion. The majority of Americans, according to polls, did not want to go into this war without the backing of the United Nations and all of America's allies.

That is where the US is at. It's liberal, it's for peace and it is only tacitly in support of its leader because that is what you are supposed to do when you are at war and you want your kids to come back from Iraq alive.

In the commercial break before the best documentary Oscar was to be announced, I suddenly thought that maybe this community of film people was also part of that American majority and just might have voted for my film. I leaned over to my fellow nominees and told them that, should I win, I was going to say something about President Bush and the war and would they like to join me up on the stage? They all agreed.

Moments later, Diane Lane opened the envelope and announced the winner: Bowling for Columbine. The entire main floor rose to its feet for a standing ovation. I was immeasurably moved and humbled as I motioned for the other nominees to join my wife (the film's producer) and me up on the stage.

I then said what I had been saying all week at those other awards ceremonies. I guess a few other people had heard me say those things too because before I had finished my first sentence about the fictitious president, a couple of men (some reported it was "stagehands" just to the left of me) near a microphone started some loud yelling. Then a group in the upper balcony joined in. What was so confusing to me, as I continued my remarks, was that I could hear this noise but, looking out on the main floor, I didn't see a single person booing.

But then the majority in the balcony - who were in support of my remarks - started booing the booers. It all turned into one humungous cacophony of yells and cheers and jeers. And all I'm thinking is, "Hey, I put on a tux for this?"

I tried to get out my last line ("Any time you've got both the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, you're not long for the White House") and the orchestra struck up its tune to end the melee. (A few orchestra members came up to me later and apologised, saying they had wanted to hear what I had to say.) I had gone 55 seconds, 10 more than allowed.

Was it appropriate? To me, the inappropriate thing would have been to say nothing at all or to thank my agent, my lawyer and the designer who dressed me. I made a movie about the American desire to use violence both at home and around the world. My remarks were in keeping with exactly what my film was about. If I had a movie about birds or insects, I would have talked about birds or insects. I made a movie about guns and Americans' tradition of using them against the world and each other.

And, as I walked up to the stage, I was still thinking about the lessons that morning at Mass. About how silence, when you observe wrongs being committed, is the same as committing those wrongs yourself. And so I followed my conscience and my heart.

On the way back home, the day after the Oscars, two flight attendants told me how they had been stuck overnight in my home state -- and wound up earning only $30 for the day because they are paid by the hour.

They said they were telling me this in the hope that I would tell others. Because they, and the millions like them, have no voice. They don't get to be commentators on cable news like the bevy of retired generals we've been watching all week. (Can we please demand that the US military remove its troops from ABC/CBS/NBC/CNN/MSNBC/Fox?) They don't get to make movies or talk to a billion people on Oscar night. They are the American majority who are being asked to send their sons and daughters over to Iraq to possibly die so Bush's buddies can have the oil.

Who will speak for them if I don't? That's what I do, or try to do, every day of my life, and March 23, 2003 - though it was one of the greatest days of my life and an honour I will long cherish - was no different.

Except I made the mistake of beginning it in a church.

Michael Moore won an Academy Award for Bowling for Columbine. This article first appeared in the Los Angeles Times.

And I gotta say, I agree with every word he says. But then, I wanna bear his children, so I may be slightly biased.

The best of the other opinion articles today was the one by Matthew Ricketson, Turn down the volume, turn up the quality in The Age.

I don't know about you but in the week-and-a-half of war in Iraq, what I wanted was a glass of water to slake my thirst. Instead, I'm plastered against the wall, soaking wet - and still thirsty. Not for information; I'm drowning in that courtesy of hours spent watching 24-hour news channels where it is hard to see where one bulletin ends and another begins.

No, at the risk of pushing the metaphor, the water is muddy with propaganda, special pleading and vested interests. I need it filtered.

I think that he has it right... I'm so wary at the moment... what is it that Ani says? "The media is not fooling me". Everything, from both sides, in this war is tainted with propaganda. We cannot escape that. Everything is filled with spin, and every "on-the-spot" report is changed within the hour. We're being inundated with information, but everything we're drowning in is so spin-filled and muddied with propaganda we can't swim to save ourselves.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 10:04 PM [x] ::

l
I once worked as a receptionist for five months. I was the World's Worst Receptionist, I'll openly admit that. But it was at a time when I was getting sick -- very sick -- and sending emails to my parents about how good the rail tracks I had to cross each day to get to work looked. For some reason, this prompted Mum and Dad to get me a doctor's appointment (wonder why) where I was officially diagnosed with depression for the first time. About a week after this, the proverbial shit hit the fan at work. I had what I can only term a massive breakdown at my desk. I was in tears over anything and I was on the phone to LifeLine and doing my best to just not crawl under the desk in a little ball. Mum drove the normally 4-hour trip to Melbourne in about 2 hours, and I left my job. After my boss told me "we all have blue days" and that it was "all in my head", wanting me to work my notice. Umm, hello, I was all but whimpering under the desk, which is a great company image. Have you ever tried answering the phone in a bright, cheerful voice when you can hardly breathe for sobs? It's an interesting experience. I've told these people at my training program that there is no way they are placing me in a reception position. I couldn't go there again, and besides which, World's Worst Receptionist, remember? But at the moment we're all busy doing reception protocol etc etc etc, and going through all the procedures is bringing back vivid memories and stress. I can't wait until we finish, because it's killing me having to remember what it was like again. I know that I don't cope with stress at all well; hence, they want to place me into Data Entry (or library work, because duh). It's just... the memory of how much I hated that job and how ill I felt and just how bad I was at that stage... it's hard. I'll survive it... I'll just be praying for the end of the day to come asap. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 12:37 PM [x] ::

I once worked as a receptionist for five months.

I was the World's Worst Receptionist, I'll openly admit that. But it was at a time when I was getting sick -- very sick -- and sending emails to my parents about how good the rail tracks I had to cross each day to get to work looked.

For some reason, this prompted Mum and Dad to get me a doctor's appointment (wonder why) where I was officially diagnosed with depression for the first time.

About a week after this, the proverbial shit hit the fan at work. I had what I can only term a massive breakdown at my desk. I was in tears over anything and I was on the phone to LifeLine and doing my best to just not crawl under the desk in a little ball.

Mum drove the normally 4-hour trip to Melbourne in about 2 hours, and I left my job. After my boss told me "we all have blue days" and that it was "all in my head", wanting me to work my notice.

Umm, hello, I was all but whimpering under the desk, which is a great company image. Have you ever tried answering the phone in a bright, cheerful voice when you can hardly breathe for sobs? It's an interesting experience.

I've told these people at my training program that there is no way they are placing me in a reception position. I couldn't go there again, and besides which, World's Worst Receptionist, remember?

But at the moment we're all busy doing reception protocol etc etc etc, and going through all the procedures is bringing back vivid memories and stress. I can't wait until we finish, because it's killing me having to remember what it was like again. I know that I don't cope with stress at all well; hence, they want to place me into Data Entry (or library work, because duh). It's just... the memory of how much I hated that job and how ill I felt and just how bad I was at that stage... it's hard.

I'll survive it... I'll just be praying for the end of the day to come asap.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 12:37 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 30, 2003
Daylight savings ended here last night, so all the clocks in the house have gone back an hour. Or at least they have in theory. My VCR clock is still an hour out (the one in my bedroom), and it keeps throwing me out. I need to change it, but I can't be buggered. Why can't they make VCRs like computers, which update automatically? The paper today showed little pictures of all the "Coalition of the Willing" troops Killed In Action. Or most of them, anyway. They had the little pictures (and it's strange how you can pick the British troops from the American troops just with a tiny little photo in the newspaper), age, how they were killed, and a short (ten words or less) biography of the soldier in question. It's funny -- and I don't mean funny ha-ha, but funny-strange -- how they remain numbers, until you hear stories. It was the same with September 11, with Port Arthur, with anything. It doesn't get to you until you see that these numbers are people with lives and faces and people who mourn them. And the Seven on Sunday. Seven things you fear or are just creeped out by: 1. Snakes. Always. 2. Spiders. Always. (I live in Australia... most of the above two are poisonous) 3. Never getting better 4. Driving. Anywhere. At any time. 5. Heights. 6. Crowds. 7. Meeting new people. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:06 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 30, 2003

Daylight savings ended here last night, so all the clocks in the house have gone back an hour.

Or at least they have in theory. My VCR clock is still an hour out (the one in my bedroom), and it keeps throwing me out. I need to change it, but I can't be buggered. Why can't they make VCRs like computers, which update automatically?

The paper today showed little pictures of all the "Coalition of the Willing" troops Killed In Action. Or most of them, anyway. They had the little pictures (and it's strange how you can pick the British troops from the American troops just with a tiny little photo in the newspaper), age, how they were killed, and a short (ten words or less) biography of the soldier in question.

It's funny -- and I don't mean funny ha-ha, but funny-strange -- how they remain numbers, until you hear stories. It was the same with September 11, with Port Arthur, with anything. It doesn't get to you until you see that these numbers are people with lives and faces and people who mourn them.

And the Seven on Sunday.

Seven things you fear or are just creeped out by:

1. Snakes. Always.
2. Spiders. Always. (I live in Australia... most of the above two are poisonous)
3. Never getting better
4. Driving. Anywhere. At any time.
5. Heights.
6. Crowds.
7. Meeting new people.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:06 PM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 29, 2003
Because with all this 24/7 war coverage, I know I need something to laugh with... so I present a new favourite link. The Gulf War Drinking Game. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:24 PM [x] ::

l
Heee!! The MaggieFic Mary Sue Generator "Have you ever longed to insert yourself into your favorite show? With MaggieFic's Handy-Dandy Mary Sue Generator, you can! Just click the buttons to create a Mary Sue that anyone would be proud of. You'll be shagging the main character of your choice, saving the world, dying nobly to save another, or bringing together your favorite pair of star-crossed lovers in no time." Mary Sue name: Bonita Haviland Mary Sue eye colour: Passionate Winter Sky Mary Sue hair colour: Burnished Bronze Mary Sue signiture scent: Dreams of Lavender Mary Sue paranormal power: Controls the Weather Mary Sue specialised skill: Scientific Genius Mary Sue distinguishing mark: Pointed Ears Newly revealed raltionship to a major character: Angel's Martial Arts Instructor :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:19 PM [x] ::

Heee!! The MaggieFic Mary Sue Generator

"Have you ever longed to insert yourself into your favorite show? With MaggieFic's Handy-Dandy Mary Sue Generator, you can! Just click the buttons to create a Mary Sue that anyone would be proud of. You'll be shagging the main character of your choice, saving the world, dying nobly to save another, or bringing together your favorite pair of star-crossed lovers in no time."

Mary Sue name: Bonita Haviland
Mary Sue eye colour: Passionate Winter Sky
Mary Sue hair colour: Burnished Bronze
Mary Sue signiture scent: Dreams of Lavender
Mary Sue paranormal power: Controls the Weather
Mary Sue specialised skill: Scientific Genius
Mary Sue distinguishing mark: Pointed Ears
Newly revealed raltionship to a major character: Angel's Martial Arts Instructor

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:19 PM [x] ::

l
This afternoon, my father was walking around the house in a knee-length blue velvet dress, complete with bra and fake breasts. Yes, there is a story behind why. And no, I'm not going to tell you. I'm stuck with the visuals, and now I hope you are too. I'm scarred for life here. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:03 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 28, 2003
I bought a new book today. Saving Francesca, by Melina Marchetta. Anyone who's done year 12 in Australia during the past 7 years will know the name of the author of Looking for Alibrandi. I read it this evening. I knew I had better things to do... but I couldn't help it. I love it. Seriously. I loved studying Alibrandi, but I think that I enjoy Francesca even more. Alibrandi was written in 1993, when I was eleven or twelve. I'm 21 now, but the pop-culture in this is something I can relate to more so than in the first. Yes, this is a book written for teenagers... but it talks about Colin Firth's wet-shirt scene in Pride & Prejudice, about having an "Alanis night" and listening to Jeff Buckley and Tori Amos and the Whitlams. It has characters debating the refugees and homelessness and terrorism. It mentions David Eddings and Obernewtyn. Francesca loves Les Mis and plays Lady Macbeth. And it has four Buffy references. I would like to add that I didn't copy the following passage in here, and I have no knowledge of any copyright laws this might be breaking. From pages 195-196. For plot references, they're on school camp: Later, we lie on our bunks, talking in the dark. About anything. We go around the room, nominating teachers we love; teachers we hate; Year Eleven Boys we'd date; Year Eleven Boys we hate. Guys or girls we suspect are gay. We have a massive debate about which 'Buffy' season was the best, and an Angel versus Riley versus Spike dispute and we end up nominating our most romantic moments in a film. Of course, they ruin some of the impression by just referring to "Buttercup and the servant boy" in that discussion (his name is Westley!!!) but... how can you hate (or even mildly dislike) a book where the characters debate Buffy seasons and Angel, Riley and Spike?! I just wish they'd tell us who won ;) I'd like to say that I know Francesca has to have enough taste to be the Angel fan, and how scary is it when you can pick the character in the book who would have been advocating Spike?!?! Or maybe I'm just taking it waaaayy to seriously. The best of today's opinions pieces: Unfortunately, I can't find a link for it, but if anyone can find the article by Sarah Wilson, We won't swallow pretzel logic, from The Herald Sun, it's well worth a read. She was doing the anti-war marches, but is now searching for some reason to support us in this war... and struggling. Gwynne Dyer, Is Saddam the new Stalin?, The Age Stalin's secret police had murdered millions, and all the non-Russian citizens of the multinational Soviet empire hated Russian rule. So masses of Soviet troops would defect at the first opportunity, and the non-Russian half of the population would greet the Germans as liberators. Sound familiar? In one I found quite interesting, kind-of on the war and kind-of on Australian politics, Louise Dodson, Labor seeks to regain its youth, The Age. Martin Ferguson, another left-wing frontbencher from Victoria, predicts that debate about Australia's foreign policy and how independent it is from the United States will be a key issue in the nation and Labor Party over the next 12 to 18 months. Indeed, he says it may become the galvanising issue that Vietnam was in the 1960s and '70s and uranium mining was in the '80s. And finally, I know I said "today", but eh. I forgot to find this one for everyone who may or may not be interested yesterday. Danny Katz's This Life column, Creeping into the theatre of war while maintaining radio reliance, The Age. We hear expressions such as "the day of liberation" and "the ultimate sacrifice" and "the Coalition Of The Willing", which sounds like it came out of Lord of the Rings, except instead of three furry hobbits named Frodo and Merry and Pippin going off to save Middle-earth, we've got three furry-eyebrowed half-wits named Busho and Blair-y and Howard going off the save the Middle East." :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 10:42 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 28, 2003

I bought a new book today.

Saving Francesca, by Melina Marchetta. Anyone who's done year 12 in Australia during the past 7 years will know the name of the author of Looking for Alibrandi.

I read it this evening.

I knew I had better things to do... but I couldn't help it. I love it. Seriously. I loved studying Alibrandi, but I think that I enjoy Francesca even more.

Alibrandi was written in 1993, when I was eleven or twelve. I'm 21 now, but the pop-culture in this is something I can relate to more so than in the first. Yes, this is a book written for teenagers... but it talks about Colin Firth's wet-shirt scene in Pride & Prejudice, about having an "Alanis night" and listening to Jeff Buckley and Tori Amos and the Whitlams. It has characters debating the refugees and homelessness and terrorism. It mentions David Eddings and Obernewtyn. Francesca loves Les Mis and plays Lady Macbeth.

And it has four Buffy references. I would like to add that I didn't copy the following passage in here, and I have no knowledge of any copyright laws this might be breaking.

From pages 195-196. For plot references, they're on school camp:

Later, we lie on our bunks, talking in the dark. About anything. We go around the room, nominating teachers we love; teachers we hate; Year Eleven Boys we'd date; Year Eleven Boys we hate. Guys or girls we suspect are gay. We have a massive debate about which 'Buffy' season was the best, and an Angel versus Riley versus Spike dispute and we end up nominating our most romantic moments in a film.

Of course, they ruin some of the impression by just referring to "Buttercup and the servant boy" in that discussion (his name is Westley!!!) but... how can you hate (or even mildly dislike) a book where the characters debate Buffy seasons and Angel, Riley and Spike?! I just wish they'd tell us who won ;) I'd like to say that I know Francesca has to have enough taste to be the Angel fan, and how scary is it when you can pick the character in the book who would have been advocating Spike?!?!

Or maybe I'm just taking it waaaayy to seriously.

The best of today's opinions pieces:

Unfortunately, I can't find a link for it, but if anyone can find the article by Sarah Wilson, We won't swallow pretzel logic, from The Herald Sun, it's well worth a read. She was doing the anti-war marches, but is now searching for some reason to support us in this war... and struggling.

Gwynne Dyer, Is Saddam the new Stalin?, The Age

Stalin's secret police had murdered millions, and all the non-Russian citizens of the multinational Soviet empire hated Russian rule. So masses of Soviet troops would defect at the first opportunity, and the non-Russian half of the population would greet the Germans as liberators. Sound familiar?

In one I found quite interesting, kind-of on the war and kind-of on Australian politics, Louise Dodson, Labor seeks to regain its youth, The Age.

Martin Ferguson, another left-wing frontbencher from Victoria, predicts that debate about Australia's foreign policy and how independent it is from the United States will be a key issue in the nation and Labor Party over the next 12 to 18 months. Indeed, he says it may become the galvanising issue that Vietnam was in the 1960s and '70s and uranium mining was in the '80s.

And finally, I know I said "today", but eh. I forgot to find this one for everyone who may or may not be interested yesterday. Danny Katz's This Life column, Creeping into the theatre of war while maintaining radio reliance, The Age.

We hear expressions such as "the day of liberation" and "the ultimate sacrifice" and "the Coalition Of The Willing", which sounds like it came out of Lord of the Rings, except instead of three furry hobbits named Frodo and Merry and Pippin going off to save Middle-earth, we've got three furry-eyebrowed half-wits named Busho and Blair-y and Howard going off the save the Middle East."

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 10:42 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 27, 2003
If there's one thing that I've come to depend on in life, it's that taste and gay men go hand in hand. Then I learn that DNA voted Steve Bracks in at #34 in their "Sexiest Man Alive" issue. ... Still speechless. Sure, they also included Viggo and Hugh Jackman on the list, but Steve Bracks. #34. Credibility and a perfectly good stereotype have both jumped the shark. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:17 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 27, 2003

If there's one thing that I've come to depend on in life, it's that taste and gay men go hand in hand.

Then I learn that DNA voted Steve Bracks in at #34 in their "Sexiest Man Alive" issue.

...

Still speechless.

Sure, they also included Viggo and Hugh Jackman on the list, but Steve Bracks. #34. Credibility and a perfectly good stereotype have both jumped the shark.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:17 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 26, 2003
Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! My new favourite quote? "As for (Alfonso Cuarón)'s political opinions - I agree he shouldn't have compared Saddam and Bush to Voldemort. "There was absolutely no need to insult Voldemort like that." -- Spykester :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 10:04 PM [x] ::

l
Australians all let us rejoice for we are young and free To slaughter young Iraqi boys Across the deep dark seas As they defend their childeren, Their culture rich and rare In joyful strains then let us sing Advance Australia Fair -- Michael Leunig I don't agree with everything he says, but an interesting POV from George Monbiot on international law and the Geneva Convention is here... I read it in today's Age. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:39 PM [x] ::

Australians all let us rejoice
for we are young and free
To slaughter young Iraqi boys
Across the deep dark seas
As they defend their childeren,
Their culture rich and rare
In joyful strains then let us sing
Advance Australia Fair
-- Michael Leunig

I don't agree with everything he says, but an interesting POV from George Monbiot on international law and the Geneva Convention is here... I read it in today's Age.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:39 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 25, 2003
Well, I just finished the imaging for an Ani DiFranco blog layout... now I just need to get the rest of the coding done and we have Ani!! Wheeee!! I resisted the temptation to use her bloody wonderful Self Evident, although the lyrics I did use were from Serpentine from her new album Evolve (it was released March 11)... all the wrong people have the power of suggestion and the freedom of the press is meaningless if nobody asks a question God, I love that woman, with her democrins and republicrats and... gah. Love her. Adore her. Will worship Cat forever for introducing her to me. But then, I'm currently working on both a Norah Jones and an Alison Mack layout... so I think I'm just into layouts at the moment. They're calling out to me... In between working on Arnotts icons, that is. Speaking of icons, I'm kind of making Academy Awards icons with quotes of the speeches... Oscars.com has the acceptance speeches up, so I'm grabbing the picture next to it and throwing some of my favourite quotes on it. Like Adrien Brody's "I bet they didn't tell you that was in the gift bag" after kissing Halle Berry... and his "there comes a time in life when everything seems to make sense and this is not one of those times." Michael Moore I didn't grab the part everyone is expecting me to, but "any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up". Nicole I had to get some of (Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi!), and the "my whole life I've wanted to make my mother proud. And now I want to make my daughter proud" was so sweet and had me in tears, so... Will get some of the other award winners in a minute or two and make them up soon. I've been listening to Norah again... I finally figured out one of the reasons I loved her as soon as I heard her. Not just her amazing talent, although that is there, but because in both style and voice she tends to sound an awful lot like Eva Cassidy. I'm glad that Norah didn't just find fame posthumously... note to all future artists: if you want recognition, do try and be alive for it. I've actually been feeling a little hypocritical over the past 48 hours. It's not a feeling I like. Every time I see the American POWs paraded on Iraqi TV, I get hot under the collar. My temper flares something chronic. Not just as Al-whatever, but at UK TV, USA TV, French TV, Australian TV, at everyone who are showing these poor men and woman, utterly terrified and bewildered with microphones being shoved in their faces. I rage at people for showing it, I rage at people for filming it, I rage at Bush, Blair, Howard et al for sending them over there in the first place. I don't feel hypocritical for feeling angry; I said from the start that I support the soldiers, just not the war. What I feel hypocritical about is that we were seeing (almost) identical footage of surrendering Iraqis and of Iraqi POWs, and I didn't think anything of it. The only differences I can really see is that a). we didn't interview them, and b). we treat our POWs better (I hope). We also don't show footage of the dead, although I do think that showing the sneaker I assume belonged to dead Australian camera man Paul Moran, ragged where it was blown off his foot as he died (possibly still containing part of said foot), is in incredibly poor taste. But still I feel like a hypocrite. If the families of the Iraqi POWs saw their husband/brother/father/son (or wife/sister/mother/daughter) on the TV, even if they weren't interviewed, would they feel any less upset than we do now? :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:55 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 25, 2003

Well, I just finished the imaging for an Ani DiFranco blog layout... now I just need to get the rest of the coding done and we have Ani!! Wheeee!!

I resisted the temptation to use her bloody wonderful Self Evident, although the lyrics I did use were from Serpentine from her new album Evolve (it was released March 11)...

all the wrong people have the power
of suggestion
and the freedom of the press is meaningless
if nobody asks a question

God, I love that woman, with her democrins and republicrats and... gah. Love her. Adore her. Will worship Cat forever for introducing her to me.

But then, I'm currently working on both a Norah Jones and an Alison Mack layout... so I think I'm just into layouts at the moment. They're calling out to me...

In between working on Arnotts icons, that is.

Speaking of icons, I'm kind of making Academy Awards icons with quotes of the speeches... Oscars.com has the acceptance speeches up, so I'm grabbing the picture next to it and throwing some of my favourite quotes on it. Like Adrien Brody's "I bet they didn't tell you that was in the gift bag" after kissing Halle Berry... and his "there comes a time in life when everything seems to make sense and this is not one of those times." Michael Moore I didn't grab the part everyone is expecting me to, but "any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up". Nicole I had to get some of (Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi!), and the "my whole life I've wanted to make my mother proud. And now I want to make my daughter proud" was so sweet and had me in tears, so...

Will get some of the other award winners in a minute or two and make them up soon.

I've been listening to Norah again... I finally figured out one of the reasons I loved her as soon as I heard her. Not just her amazing talent, although that is there, but because in both style and voice she tends to sound an awful lot like Eva Cassidy. I'm glad that Norah didn't just find fame posthumously... note to all future artists: if you want recognition, do try and be alive for it.

I've actually been feeling a little hypocritical over the past 48 hours. It's not a feeling I like.

Every time I see the American POWs paraded on Iraqi TV, I get hot under the collar. My temper flares something chronic. Not just as Al-whatever, but at UK TV, USA TV, French TV, Australian TV, at everyone who are showing these poor men and woman, utterly terrified and bewildered with microphones being shoved in their faces. I rage at people for showing it, I rage at people for filming it, I rage at Bush, Blair, Howard et al for sending them over there in the first place.

I don't feel hypocritical for feeling angry; I said from the start that I support the soldiers, just not the war. What I feel hypocritical about is that we were seeing (almost) identical footage of surrendering Iraqis and of Iraqi POWs, and I didn't think anything of it.

The only differences I can really see is that a). we didn't interview them, and b). we treat our POWs better (I hope).

We also don't show footage of the dead, although I do think that showing the sneaker I assume belonged to dead Australian camera man Paul Moran, ragged where it was blown off his foot as he died (possibly still containing part of said foot), is in incredibly poor taste.

But still I feel like a hypocrite. If the families of the Iraqi POWs saw their husband/brother/father/son (or wife/sister/mother/daughter) on the TV, even if they weren't interviewed, would they feel any less upset than we do now?

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:55 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 24, 2003
What kind of a B/A Shipper are you? Oh boy. You've hit the B/A rock bottom. All hope is lost for B/A according to you. You believe that B/A are never going to get together, it's creators made sure of that :( :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:55 PM [x] ::

l
I love the Oscars. "If Freda were alive today, she'd be on our side. Against war." I cheered so hard that someone got past the Academy's ban on presenters saying anything. Nic!! Wheeeeeeee!!!!! But how much do you wanna bet now that she mentioned Russell on-stage, there will be this big thing on Entertainment Tonight and Woman's Day about how his wedding is in doubt <sigh> Adrien Brody for Best Actor (so happy with him winning there!!)... I cried, although I am confused with Roman Polanski, much as he deserved it... conservative academy giving a sex offender and Michael Moore both awards in the one year?! Hell hath frozen over!! (I do not condone Polanski's actions, but he's a damn good director). As for Chicago... it leaves me wishing Baz released Moulin Rouge a year later. Words cannot describe how much I love, adore and want to carry Michael Moore's children. He's squicky, but I'd fuck him in an instant after that speech. Yes, he makes me look right-wing, but fuck. Fuck. I'd bear his fucking children. Sudden urge to listen to Ani. Self Evident. Fuck. It's at times like this I wish I smoked. Had to laugh, though... the standing ovation he got from everyone in the room, and then the look on their faces when he started the speech. People, he won the award, I'm assuming you've seen the documentary. Did you really expect anything less?? I loved all of the Best Actress nominees and wished they could all take one home, but despite Catherine Zeta-Jones' diva rep, she's sweet in public <g> Besides which, was anyone almost willing her water to break on stage, or was that just me? I'm an intellectual type. I make no bones about that. I'm a bleeding-heart, tree-hugging leftie (see my anti-war side-bar at the Blog, which I'm currently doing a new layout for. A rather political one. Also some new anti-war LJ icons there at the moment). But last night I wound up watching Where The Heart Is. I have cavities from it, but it was so... nice. I could ignore the war, I could sit there for two and a half hours and watch a classic chick-flick that was pure, fluffy escapism. I don't mind Natalie Portman as an actress, although I'd have preferred to watch The Piano at 11pm... unfortunately, when you get up at 6.30am, a film that starts at 11pm? Not of the best way to start Monday Morning. I'll also add that I'm composing that ode I said I'd write if Iraq was found to still have chemical weapons... I'm just waiting for confirmation before I post it. I'll say more with it then... but if this war was "justifiable" (even then I struggle with the idea of it, Saddam with weapons of mass destruction or not, given last Thursday as the war with Iraq broke out North Korea was declaring themselves on the verge of NUCLEAR war with South Korea and the USA... and which is the bigger threat to the world again?) it will not be the short conflict we've been promised. Mark Knight in today's paper just had Howard on the frontline in utter bewilderment... "The Iraqi's are fighting back? But they're meant to be welcoming us with open arms... there's obviously been a misunderstanding..." If Saddam is half as dangerous as Bush would have us believe, then this war will not be over in a matter of weeks. And certainly not in the "even 48 hours" John Howard said yesterday morning. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:09 PM [x] ::

I love the Oscars.

"If Freda were alive today, she'd be on our side. Against war." I cheered so hard that someone got past the Academy's ban on presenters saying anything.

Nic!! Wheeeeeeee!!!!! But how much do you wanna bet now that she mentioned Russell on-stage, there will be this big thing on Entertainment Tonight and Woman's Day about how his wedding is in doubt <sigh>

Adrien Brody for Best Actor (so happy with him winning there!!)... I cried, although I am confused with Roman Polanski, much as he deserved it... conservative academy giving a sex offender and Michael Moore both awards in the one year?! Hell hath frozen over!! (I do not condone Polanski's actions, but he's a damn good director).

As for Chicago... it leaves me wishing Baz released Moulin Rouge a year later.

Words cannot describe how much I love, adore and want to carry Michael Moore's children. He's squicky, but I'd fuck him in an instant after that speech. Yes, he makes me look right-wing, but fuck. Fuck. I'd bear his fucking children.

Sudden urge to listen to Ani. Self Evident. Fuck. It's at times like this I wish I smoked.

Had to laugh, though... the standing ovation he got from everyone in the room, and then the look on their faces when he started the speech. People, he won the award, I'm assuming you've seen the documentary. Did you really expect anything less??

I loved all of the Best Actress nominees and wished they could all take one home, but despite Catherine Zeta-Jones' diva rep, she's sweet in public <g> Besides which, was anyone almost willing her water to break on stage, or was that just me?

I'm an intellectual type. I make no bones about that. I'm a bleeding-heart, tree-hugging leftie (see my anti-war side-bar at the Blog, which I'm currently doing a new layout for. A rather political one. Also some new anti-war LJ icons there at the moment). But last night I wound up watching Where The Heart Is. I have cavities from it, but it was so... nice. I could ignore the war, I could sit there for two and a half hours and watch a classic chick-flick that was pure, fluffy escapism. I don't mind Natalie Portman as an actress, although I'd have preferred to watch The Piano at 11pm... unfortunately, when you get up at 6.30am, a film that starts at 11pm? Not of the best way to start Monday Morning.

I'll also add that I'm composing that ode I said I'd write if Iraq was found to still have chemical weapons... I'm just waiting for confirmation before I post it. I'll say more with it then... but if this war was "justifiable" (even then I struggle with the idea of it, Saddam with weapons of mass destruction or not, given last Thursday as the war with Iraq broke out North Korea was declaring themselves on the verge of NUCLEAR war with South Korea and the USA... and which is the bigger threat to the world again?) it will not be the short conflict we've been promised. Mark Knight in today's paper just had Howard on the frontline in utter bewilderment... "The Iraqi's are fighting back? But they're meant to be welcoming us with open arms... there's obviously been a misunderstanding..."

If Saddam is half as dangerous as Bush would have us believe, then this war will not be over in a matter of weeks. And certainly not in the "even 48 hours" John Howard said yesterday morning.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:09 PM [x] ::

l
I'd like to take a moment to remember. I'd like to remember the British and American troops killed in action, in a war that should never have started. I'd like to think of the American POWs, and pray that my first reaction (Iraq is ignoring the Geneva Conventions) was horribly wrong. I'd like to hope that Allied soldiers do not retaliate against Iraqi POWs. I'd like to think of the missing ITN news crew. I'd like to think of the six people (including an Australian camera man) killed in a suicide car-bombing, and the other people injured in the attack. I'd like to think of the American unit attacked from the inside. I'd like to think of all the innocent Iraqi civilians injured or killed in the continuing missile attacks. I'd like to wish I could feel surprise at these developments. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 11:45 AM [x] ::

I'd like to take a moment to remember.

I'd like to remember the British and American troops killed in action, in a war that should never have started.

I'd like to think of the American POWs, and pray that my first reaction (Iraq is ignoring the Geneva Conventions) was horribly wrong.

I'd like to hope that Allied soldiers do not retaliate against Iraqi POWs.

I'd like to think of the missing ITN news crew.

I'd like to think of the six people (including an Australian camera man) killed in a suicide car-bombing, and the other people injured in the attack.

I'd like to think of the American unit attacked from the inside.

I'd like to think of all the innocent Iraqi civilians injured or killed in the continuing missile attacks.

I'd like to wish I could feel surprise at these developments.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 11:45 AM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 22, 2003
Worst wording in a fanfic. Ever. "She was wearing a medieval looking blue georgette dress with wide flowing trumpet sleeves and a low cut bodice that ended right above her knees in a full skirt." :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:06 PM [x] ::

l
It's been a couple of days since I last updated. I'm having to concentrate on my typing and I'm going at a third of my normal speed at the mooment. Why? I'm learning to type at this course I'm doing. I kid thee not. They're teaching us to type. Admittedly, I don't normally touch-type. So I'm taking the opportunity to try and learn that over the six weeks of the course. I'm still four times as fast as the rest of the kids in the class, but it's a little frustrating. Especially when they're teaching you how to use Word Art and create a table in Word. Of course, it did wonderful things for my ego when the instructor said that she thinks I should be at 130 or so wpm by the end of the course <g> Fascinating article by Marian Wilkinson from a few days ago in The Age here (okay, it's from the Sydney Morning Herald website, but they're the same as The Age in Melbourne in any case, and Google hit this link first). Mr Bush has gambled his presidency on the outcome of this pre-emptive war. But Mr Bush and his most senior advisers are calmly confident. Mr Cheney predicted on Sunday that the US, "will be greeted as liberators" in Iraq. But if Saddam's regime can be destroyed in a matter of weeks, asked many on the Security Council, how can he be such a deadly threat? To justify this pre-emptive war, the US military will not only need to show cheering Iraqis in the streets of Baghdad but serious stocks of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq's vaults. That, they hope, will vindicate the Bush doctrine. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 4:35 PM [x] ::

It's been a couple of days since I last updated. I'm having to concentrate on my typing and I'm going at a third of my normal speed at the mooment.

Why?

I'm learning to type at this course I'm doing.

I kid thee not. They're teaching us to type. Admittedly, I don't normally touch-type. So I'm taking the opportunity to try and learn that over the six weeks of the course. I'm still four times as fast as the rest of the kids in the class, but it's a little frustrating. Especially when they're teaching you how to use Word Art and create a table in Word.

Of course, it did wonderful things for my ego when the instructor said that she thinks I should be at 130 or so wpm by the end of the course <g>

Fascinating article by Marian Wilkinson from a few days ago in The Age here (okay, it's from the Sydney Morning Herald website, but they're the same as The Age in Melbourne in any case, and Google hit this link first).

Mr Bush has gambled his presidency on the outcome of this pre-emptive war.

But Mr Bush and his most senior advisers are calmly confident. Mr Cheney predicted on Sunday that the US, "will be greeted as liberators" in Iraq. But if Saddam's regime can be destroyed in a matter of weeks, asked many on the Security Council, how can he be such a deadly threat?

To justify this pre-emptive war, the US military will not only need to show cheering Iraqis in the streets of Baghdad but serious stocks of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq's vaults. That, they hope, will vindicate the Bush doctrine.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 4:35 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 19, 2003
My country is following America into Iraq. You know those drivers in a convoy who just blindly follow the tail-lights of the car in front, so that if the first car drives off a cliff they all follow? We're the people blindly following Dubya. I've been open about my non-support of any war against Iraq. I continue in that viewpoint; nothing has been said to change my opinion. Yes, if it had been someone other than Bush, senior who was in charge last time around... maybe then I'd be more open. But it was his Daddy then, and I am of the opinion I am. However. I want to make two things perfectly clear here. I do not support Saddam in any way, shape or form. I believe he is a despot, a dictator, greedy for power, killing anyone who opposes him. I believe him guilty of heinous crimes against humanity. I believe he should be removed from power. But I don't think this war is the answer. Nor do I trust Dubya's reasons for it. There is more than one despot in this world at the moment. Robert Mugabe comes to mind. Yes, Saddam has been in power longer than the Zimbabwe President; however, I notice there's a severe lack of rhetoric happening about what Mugabe is doing to the people of Zimbabwe from many leaders. I also notice that he's not sitting on oil. Get rid of Saddam by all means. Just don't say you're worried for the people of Iraq as you drop bombs on their heads. I know that if I was under the thumb of a ruthless dictator who will do anything to stay in power, I wouldn't look kindly upon the people who were dropping bombs on me, on my family, in order to get rid of him... especially when, due to their sanctions, I don't have adequate medical facilities to save the injured. The second point I want to make is that I fully support the men and women being sent into battle (of course, if the draft is reintroduced -- despite two referendums during the Vietnam War stopping it then -- I'll flee the country). I may not agree with much Johnny has ever said; however, I will agree with this statement: "Have your beef with me, do not have your beef with the men and women of the Australian Defence Force. They are brave, courageous Australians who will need our support." Unfortunately, the anti-war people are already planning protests outside he Victoria Barracks, symbolic home of our soldiers. Obviously, we have learnt nothing from the Vietnam War. If anyone is going to call the soldiers we are sending into battle "terrorists" (and that has been said at anti-war rallies already) they will have to go through me. I have, and will continue to, call war government-sponsored terrorism, but the terrorists in these cases are the people who send the troops into battle. Yes, terrorism strikes individually and by surprise... but war is terror. Is it any better when you know bombs are going to drop on your house, on your street, on your city, as when they take you by surprise? I know that Saddam doesn't play fair in war; I know he will put civilians in the line of fire. And I know that the people who are so concerned for the well being of those people will bomb them all the same. I will not tolerate war crimes from either side (and make no mistake, both sides will commit them), but it should also be the people who gave the order for those war crimes to be executed who are prosecuted for them. And this is where I bite my tongue on my bitterness and anger that American citizens have been granted immunity from the International Criminals Court. That they are protecting American interests is no excuse; any war criminal would say that they are protecting the best interests of their country. Adolf Hitler, Hermann Göring and Rudolf Hess would have said the exact same thing. I'd also like to say this is not me being anti-American; I'll say the same thing for any country on the face of the planet. International Law is already being violated in starting this war; don't completely shred it to pieces. There are no winners in war. Unless you count the stock exchange. Plus... The Peace MeMe :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:15 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 19, 2003

My country is following America into Iraq.

You know those drivers in a convoy who just blindly follow the tail-lights of the car in front, so that if the first car drives off a cliff they all follow?

We're the people blindly following Dubya.

I've been open about my non-support of any war against Iraq. I continue in that viewpoint; nothing has been said to change my opinion. Yes, if it had been someone other than Bush, senior who was in charge last time around... maybe then I'd be more open. But it was his Daddy then, and I am of the opinion I am.

However.

I want to make two things perfectly clear here.

I do not support Saddam in any way, shape or form. I believe he is a despot, a dictator, greedy for power, killing anyone who opposes him. I believe him guilty of heinous crimes against humanity. I believe he should be removed from power.

But I don't think this war is the answer. Nor do I trust Dubya's reasons for it.

There is more than one despot in this world at the moment. Robert Mugabe comes to mind. Yes, Saddam has been in power longer than the Zimbabwe President; however, I notice there's a severe lack of rhetoric happening about what Mugabe is doing to the people of Zimbabwe from many leaders. I also notice that he's not sitting on oil.

Get rid of Saddam by all means. Just don't say you're worried for the people of Iraq as you drop bombs on their heads. I know that if I was under the thumb of a ruthless dictator who will do anything to stay in power, I wouldn't look kindly upon the people who were dropping bombs on me, on my family, in order to get rid of him... especially when, due to their sanctions, I don't have adequate medical facilities to save the injured.

The second point I want to make is that I fully support the men and women being sent into battle (of course, if the draft is reintroduced -- despite two referendums during the Vietnam War stopping it then -- I'll flee the country).

I may not agree with much Johnny has ever said; however, I will agree with this statement:

"Have your beef with me, do not have your beef with the men and women of the Australian Defence Force. They are brave, courageous Australians who will need our support."

Unfortunately, the anti-war people are already planning protests outside he Victoria Barracks, symbolic home of our soldiers. Obviously, we have learnt nothing from the Vietnam War.

If anyone is going to call the soldiers we are sending into battle "terrorists" (and that has been said at anti-war rallies already) they will have to go through me. I have, and will continue to, call war government-sponsored terrorism, but the terrorists in these cases are the people who send the troops into battle. Yes, terrorism strikes individually and by surprise... but war is terror. Is it any better when you know bombs are going to drop on your house, on your street, on your city, as when they take you by surprise? I know that Saddam doesn't play fair in war; I know he will put civilians in the line of fire. And I know that the people who are so concerned for the well being of those people will bomb them all the same.

I will not tolerate war crimes from either side (and make no mistake, both sides will commit them), but it should also be the people who gave the order for those war crimes to be executed who are prosecuted for them. And this is where I bite my tongue on my bitterness and anger that American citizens have been granted immunity from the International Criminals Court. That they are protecting American interests is no excuse; any war criminal would say that they are protecting the best interests of their country. Adolf Hitler, Hermann Göring and Rudolf Hess would have said the exact same thing. I'd also like to say this is not me being anti-American; I'll say the same thing for any country on the face of the planet. International Law is already being violated in starting this war; don't completely shred it to pieces.

There are no winners in war. Unless you count the stock exchange.

Plus... The Peace MeMe

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:15 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 18, 2003
Waaaaahhhh!!! At Buffyverse: Well, it looks like all good things have got to come to an end... Today we received a call from a person who works for Fox Germany and who told us that Fox USA wants all copyrighted material removed from the site immediately or they will sue us for copyright infringement. They never clearly stated what exactly they wanted to be removed (even though we asked them multiple times) so we had to remove all the images, videos, skins etc. to be on the safe side - in other words: we had to remove 95% of our content which equals shutting down the site. Until Fox explicitely tells us what has or has not to be removed we can't decide if we're going to re-open the site. We would like to thank all our visitors for your continued support and hope you keep watching Joss Whedon's great shows! Chris, liv & the Buffyverse-Team :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:11 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 18, 2003

Waaaaahhhh!!! At Buffyverse:

Well, it looks like all good things have got to come to an end...

Today we received a call from a person who works for Fox Germany and who told us that Fox USA wants all copyrighted material removed from the site immediately or they will sue us for copyright infringement. They never clearly stated what exactly they wanted to be removed (even though we asked them multiple times) so we had to remove all the images, videos, skins etc. to be on the safe side - in other words: we had to remove 95% of our content which equals shutting down the site.

Until Fox explicitely tells us what has or has not to be removed we can't decide if we're going to re-open the site.

We would like to thank all our visitors for your continued support and hope you keep watching Joss Whedon's great shows!

Chris, liv & the Buffyverse-Team

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:11 PM [x] ::

l
Firstly, thankyou to everyone who gave such kind words yesterday. I won't be so maudlin next year... I think it was a lot because of the anniversary, that it was a decade. Anyway. New project!! I've decided to make an icon series with a difference. I'm making an Arnotts icon series, although this time they'll have nothing to do with Tim Tams. For those who are unaware, Arnotts is an Australian (well, it was taken over by an American company but it's still quintessentially Australian) company who make Tim Tams etc etc. Their slogan is "there is no substitute for quality", which I said at one point was perfect for Buffy/Angel, causing Faithgirl (lovely, adorable person that she is) to make a B/A wallpaper with the words (see my current desktop at the blog). Side-note: never figured out why the company that took over Arnotts didn't start releasing Tim Tams at the very least in the USA. Given that I'm yet to find an American who can resist them (and that goes double for Canadians), you'd think they'd want to break into that market. Anyway, I was making a B/A (fixing? playing around with?) The Prom icon last night after finishing the ones Leelee has requested, and I decided to put those words on it. "There is no substitute for quality". If you're reading this at LJ, look at the icon for this entry. Then I decided... well... it kind of goes for a lot of 'ships, not just B/A, and not just in the Buffyverse (yes, Jen, that's an indication that Farscape and Tim Tams may have something in common soon). So I'm going to embark on an icon crusade. I just have to gather the pictures. I've decided not just to use conventional ships, but a mixture of Con and UC. I'm collecting Spike/Dru pics, Willow/Oz, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Angel/Spike, Wesley/Giles, Wesley/Faith, Angel/Faith, Buffy/Faith, Buffy/Willow, Wes/Gun, Xander/Willow, Wes/Lilah, Aeryn/John, Clark/Chloe, Riker/Troi, Mulder/Scully, Alyson/Alexis (they're just too cute!), Xander/Cordelia, Cordelia/Wesley, Wes/Fred, Willow/Spike, Cordelia/Gunn, Logan/Rogue, Wes/Angel, Syd/Vaughn... anyone know where I could find a decent Harry/Hermione or Harry/Draco pic that isn't a manip? Or should I be trying to learn how to do that? And the list goes on. Anyone got any 'ship to add to the list whilst I'm at it? I'm avoiding the ones I find really squicky ::cough::Buffy/Giles::cough:: and all signs of incest in any form (and there's no way on God's green earth I'll be doing anything remotely 'shippy in a romantic sense for Buffy/Dawn because that's just wrong), but I'm seriously considering adding a Spuffy Something Blue-era one. I know, I'm thinking I've taken leave of my senses, too. But it was fun and so far out of character then that I didn't have to worry about it ever coming true and I kinda liked it... Think I want something to distract myself with or similar? I had my first day at this training-thing today... it was bloody boring. It's all so... basic. It's beyond basic. It leaves basic back in kindergarten. I hope it actually gets challenging and not just common-sense soonish, because I was bored out my skull and feeling stupid for even being there. HOWEVER, if all goes according to plan, I should be employed within four weeks, so that should be cause for some yay-factor. I hope I hope I hope I hope. Because if I don't get employed, it's all been a waste of time and I'll have spent over $200 travelling into town each day at 7.20am, getting home after 6pm and not have anything to show for it. Not to mention incredibly severe withdrawals from chat-times. Of course, if I get employed I may actually be able to afford things like paid-LJ (more icons!!!!!!!!!!), not to mention hosting & domain for the blog. Anyway. Off to download pictures... Coming tomorrow, my response to Daubya's 48-hour ultimatum, and what was said in Australian Parliament today. And I promise not to be inflammatory, and to be measured and calm (or at least as much as that is possible with me). <ot> the "No War" slogan painted on top of the Sydney Opera House was a disgrace and the security breach should be investigated... but at the same time, damn, I like it! </ot> :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:25 PM [x] ::

Firstly, thankyou to everyone who gave such kind words yesterday. I won't be so maudlin next year... I think it was a lot because of the anniversary, that it was a decade.

Anyway.

New project!!

I've decided to make an icon series with a difference.

I'm making an Arnotts icon series, although this time they'll have nothing to do with Tim Tams.

For those who are unaware, Arnotts is an Australian (well, it was taken over by an American company but it's still quintessentially Australian) company who make Tim Tams etc etc. Their slogan is "there is no substitute for quality", which I said at one point was perfect for Buffy/Angel, causing Faithgirl (lovely, adorable person that she is) to make a B/A wallpaper with the words (see my current desktop at the blog).

Side-note: never figured out why the company that took over Arnotts didn't start releasing Tim Tams at the very least in the USA. Given that I'm yet to find an American who can resist them (and that goes double for Canadians), you'd think they'd want to break into that market.

Anyway, I was making a B/A (fixing? playing around with?) The Prom icon last night after finishing the ones Leelee has requested, and I decided to put those words on it. "There is no substitute for quality". If you're reading this at LJ, look at the icon for this entry. Then I decided... well... it kind of goes for a lot of 'ships, not just B/A, and not just in the Buffyverse (yes, Jen, that's an indication that Farscape and Tim Tams may have something in common soon).

So I'm going to embark on an icon crusade. I just have to gather the pictures. I've decided not just to use conventional ships, but a mixture of Con and UC. I'm collecting Spike/Dru pics, Willow/Oz, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Angel/Spike, Wesley/Giles, Wesley/Faith, Angel/Faith, Buffy/Faith, Buffy/Willow, Wes/Gun, Xander/Willow, Wes/Lilah, Aeryn/John, Clark/Chloe, Riker/Troi, Mulder/Scully, Alyson/Alexis (they're just too cute!), Xander/Cordelia, Cordelia/Wesley, Wes/Fred, Willow/Spike, Cordelia/Gunn, Logan/Rogue, Wes/Angel, Syd/Vaughn... anyone know where I could find a decent Harry/Hermione or Harry/Draco pic that isn't a manip? Or should I be trying to learn how to do that?

And the list goes on. Anyone got any 'ship to add to the list whilst I'm at it? I'm avoiding the ones I find really squicky ::cough::Buffy/Giles::cough:: and all signs of incest in any form (and there's no way on God's green earth I'll be doing anything remotely 'shippy in a romantic sense for Buffy/Dawn because that's just wrong), but I'm seriously considering adding a Spuffy Something Blue-era one. I know, I'm thinking I've taken leave of my senses, too. But it was fun and so far out of character then that I didn't have to worry about it ever coming true and I kinda liked it...

Think I want something to distract myself with or similar?

I had my first day at this training-thing today... it was bloody boring. It's all so... basic. It's beyond basic. It leaves basic back in kindergarten. I hope it actually gets challenging and not just common-sense soonish, because I was bored out my skull and feeling stupid for even being there. HOWEVER, if all goes according to plan, I should be employed within four weeks, so that should be cause for some yay-factor.

I hope I hope I hope I hope. Because if I don't get employed, it's all been a waste of time and I'll have spent over $200 travelling into town each day at 7.20am, getting home after 6pm and not have anything to show for it. Not to mention incredibly severe withdrawals from chat-times.

Of course, if I get employed I may actually be able to afford things like paid-LJ (more icons!!!!!!!!!!), not to mention hosting & domain for the blog.

Anyway. Off to download pictures... Coming tomorrow, my response to Daubya's 48-hour ultimatum, and what was said in Australian Parliament today. And I promise not to be inflammatory, and to be measured and calm (or at least as much as that is possible with me).

<ot> the "No War" slogan painted on top of the Sydney Opera House was a disgrace and the security breach should be investigated... but at the same time, damn, I like it! </ot>

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:25 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 17, 2003
Well, it's St Patricks Day here in Australia at the moment. I was meant to start my training/course-thing today, then I got a phone call last week saying it was being postponed by 24 hours, so... I'm sitting at home. Mum's watching Pride and Prejudice and H has a student-free day at school. Dad's actually managing not to work on his day off for once. I've been in a state of almost constant remembrance for the last few months, mostly since I realised -- suddenly and shatteringly -- that today was the tenth anniversary of my grandmother's death. I promised myself that I wasn't going to go all maudlin in this; I swore that I wasn't going to spend months remembering my grandmother's death. But today, I'm going to. I've been reliving it, and I just want to get it out of my system. My doctor, when I talked about this, said (given the anniversary) it was healthy to dwell on it for a while, however, in the interest of self-preservation it would probably be wise to try not to after the date. Anniversaries are always hard. There was the incredibly painful first Christmas, the first mother's day, the first birthday for each and every one of us without her... every Sunday for a year was a painful reminder of the person missing in our life. Ten years on, I guess the pain is limited to the big ones. We feel the pain each Christmas, to be sure. I think Mother's Day is mostly painful for my mother, memories have blurred over time for me and my brothers. And I can never celebrate St Patrick's Day. I'll admit that usually it isn't on my mind as much as it has been this year. I think the pain has been worse, because I'm so aware of the anniversary. Ten years since my grandmother died. It's not something I can take on lightly. It wasn't something any of us were prepared for. Even in other situations you might be able to say, "yes, we were expecting it". You may have known it was coming, known in the back of your mind... but you're never prepared, or waiting for it. My grandmother was 56 when she died of an asthma attack. As I was growing up, we'd spend every Sunday evening at my maternal grandparents. Nana and Pa's house, with my unmarried uncle (who still lived at home in his mid-20s) and his girlfriend, and my aunt, uncle and their four children. We'd have the roast dinner and the dessert, and generally enjoy spending time as an extended family. Sunday, the 14th of March was no different. Although I do remember heading into the dining room shortly after dessert and asking where Nana and Pa were; Nana had been in the corner of the lounge room earlier that evening "on the pump", the electronic machine buzzing and wisps of ventolin escaping the mask she had over her face. I was told that Pa had taken Nana to the hospital; I was eleven and a half and this was down-played by the adults. It wasn't something unusual; my grandmother suffered from severe asthma. We could never run inside the house or such things as this would stir up any dust in the carpet and effect my grandmother's asthma. She made the bestest cheese cake in the whole wide world, which she could never eat as it was too rich for her asthma. It was a part of life, seeing Nana on the pump in the corner of the room or watching her take her ventolin. The following morning the phone rang as Mum was in the shower before we all went to school. It was Nana, asking me to tell Mum that she was home and okay. Nana always hated staying overnight in the hospital, and would go to any length to avoid it. I told Nana that Mum was in the shower, and I'd tell her she rang. I talked a little on the phone to her, she rang off with a "bye, honey". It was the last time I'd ever speak to her. I went to school as normal; I was in grade 6 at the time, which is the last year of primary school (elementary school) here in Australia. The first clue I had that something was wrong was when I was told by the school office that a family friend would be picking us up after school. I don't... that evening is a bit of a blur now. I think it was at the time. All we knew, all we were told, was that Nana was in "a coma", whatever that was (and I thought for years afterwards it was one word, acoma), that Mum and Dad were at the hospital, that our paternal grandparents (Nana and Granddad) were coming to stay the night with us. That was Monday the 15th. Tuesday was taken up with what I can see in hindsight was my grandmother trying to keep us occupied. We went and had haircuts; I had about 30cm chopped off my hair so it was to just below my shoulder blades and told Dad on the phone to "tell Nana about it". I still didn't know much about "acoma" but they'd told me that Nana could hear people talking to her. N, H and myself didn't get told what had actually happened until Mum and Dad came home for dinner that night. Not too long after Nana rang on Monday morning (to this day I don't know if Mum managed to talk to her one last time) they realised she needed to go back to the hospital. So she and Pa were packing the bags, and my grandfather came out of the bathroom to find her on the floor. He performed CPR, and managed to resuscitate her, calling an ambulance. She was still unconscious. The ambulance arrived (people living in my state will know that in 1993 we didn't have the best performance rate in that area)... and it was the wrong one. They needed an ICU ambulance. The right ambulance eventually arrived, and they took her into the hospital, to the Intensive Care Unit, where she was put on life support etc. Mum and Dad told us, when we asked "is she gonna die?" (something no parent wants to have to answer their children on) that she was probably going to live, unless things changed. That could be my memory playing up; I know that I desperately wanted Nana to live. At around 8pm that evening, Mum and Dad got an urgent phone call from the hospital. Wednesday 17th. They said she's brain-dead, and wanted to take her off life support. I wanted to come in and say goodbye. I was eleven and a half, I wanted this... but Mum and Dad said no. They said that they didn't want my last memories of my grandmother to be one of her lying lifeless, hooked up to a million machines with cords running everywhere. They have said since then they don't know if that was a good idea or not, however, that's what happened and I almost think I'm grateful for it. I told them to tell them goodbye for me, and that was that. I had lost my grandmother. Family was everything to my grandmother, and what really gets to me is the fact that out of all of her grandchildren, I'm probably the only one with even a slightly clear memory of her. Her other grandchildren were eight (two of them), six, five and three (twins). We'd see her almost daily, and she was one of those grandmothers who was willing to do anything for her family. It nearly killed my great-grandmother. She'd been saying for thirty years that "this Christmas will be my last", and suddenly last Christmas was her daughter's last. Her daughter who died at 56, the same age as her husband was when he died (when my great-aunt turned 56 three years ago, we held our breath all year). She was in her eighties, and her daughter died before she did. My mother gets mistaken for an anorexic at the best of times, and she lost an unhealthy amount of weight that year. My grandmother loved to cook. The thing is, most of her recipes we all loved so much only existed in her head. Despite being in the middle of copying them down for Mum and my aunt when she died, many of them went to the grave with her. Mum and my aunt are often found calling each other when they find something that's almost like what Nana made... but there's always something missing. That could have been Nana though. For example, the first Christmas after she died we had it at our house. My grandfather couldn't face having it where Nana used to cook for us all, nor could the rest of the family. So Mum's going through the recipe book, and gets out the one for steamed plum pudding. She starts listing the ingredients to buy, and down the bottom of the page she finds the words "and etcetera". What the hell does "and etcetera" mean?! She starts calling people. My great-grandmother, her aunt, her sister, anyone who could know what my grandmother meant by "and etcetera". Eventually we figured out that it meant whatever she felt like throwing in at the time. My grandmother was a rabid Carlton supporter. She'd be ready to kill John Elliot at the moment over what he did to her precious Blues. She always felt she failed in her duty... despite raising a family of Carlton supporters, all her children wound up marrying Collingwood supporters, Carlton's sworn enemy in the Australian Football League. We seriously looked at spreading her ashes on the grounds at Princess Park (now known as Optus Oval), home to the Blues. We decided against it, and there's a nice bench marking the spot we spread them in the gardens at Olinda. I need to finish this up. But today I just needed to remember. Love you, Nana. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:25 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 17, 2003

Well, it's St Patricks Day here in Australia at the moment. I was meant to start my training/course-thing today, then I got a phone call last week saying it was being postponed by 24 hours, so... I'm sitting at home. Mum's watching Pride and Prejudice and H has a student-free day at school. Dad's actually managing not to work on his day off for once.

I've been in a state of almost constant remembrance for the last few months, mostly since I realised -- suddenly and shatteringly -- that today was the tenth anniversary of my grandmother's death. I promised myself that I wasn't going to go all maudlin in this; I swore that I wasn't going to spend months remembering my grandmother's death. But today, I'm going to. I've been reliving it, and I just want to get it out of my system. My doctor, when I talked about this, said (given the anniversary) it was healthy to dwell on it for a while, however, in the interest of self-preservation it would probably be wise to try not to after the date.

Anniversaries are always hard. There was the incredibly painful first Christmas, the first mother's day, the first birthday for each and every one of us without her... every Sunday for a year was a painful reminder of the person missing in our life.

Ten years on, I guess the pain is limited to the big ones. We feel the pain each Christmas, to be sure. I think Mother's Day is mostly painful for my mother, memories have blurred over time for me and my brothers. And I can never celebrate St Patrick's Day.

I'll admit that usually it isn't on my mind as much as it has been this year. I think the pain has been worse, because I'm so aware of the anniversary. Ten years since my grandmother died. It's not something I can take on lightly.

It wasn't something any of us were prepared for. Even in other situations you might be able to say, "yes, we were expecting it". You may have known it was coming, known in the back of your mind... but you're never prepared, or waiting for it.

My grandmother was 56 when she died of an asthma attack.

As I was growing up, we'd spend every Sunday evening at my maternal grandparents. Nana and Pa's house, with my unmarried uncle (who still lived at home in his mid-20s) and his girlfriend, and my aunt, uncle and their four children. We'd have the roast dinner and the dessert, and generally enjoy spending time as an extended family.

Sunday, the 14th of March was no different. Although I do remember heading into the dining room shortly after dessert and asking where Nana and Pa were; Nana had been in the corner of the lounge room earlier that evening "on the pump", the electronic machine buzzing and wisps of ventolin escaping the mask she had over her face.

I was told that Pa had taken Nana to the hospital; I was eleven and a half and this was down-played by the adults. It wasn't something unusual; my grandmother suffered from severe asthma. We could never run inside the house or such things as this would stir up any dust in the carpet and effect my grandmother's asthma. She made the bestest cheese cake in the whole wide world, which she could never eat as it was too rich for her asthma.

It was a part of life, seeing Nana on the pump in the corner of the room or watching her take her ventolin.

The following morning the phone rang as Mum was in the shower before we all went to school. It was Nana, asking me to tell Mum that she was home and okay. Nana always hated staying overnight in the hospital, and would go to any length to avoid it. I told Nana that Mum was in the shower, and I'd tell her she rang. I talked a little on the phone to her, she rang off with a "bye, honey".

It was the last time I'd ever speak to her.

I went to school as normal; I was in grade 6 at the time, which is the last year of primary school (elementary school) here in Australia. The first clue I had that something was wrong was when I was told by the school office that a family friend would be picking us up after school.

I don't... that evening is a bit of a blur now. I think it was at the time. All we knew, all we were told, was that Nana was in "a coma", whatever that was (and I thought for years afterwards it was one word, acoma), that Mum and Dad were at the hospital, that our paternal grandparents (Nana and Granddad) were coming to stay the night with us.

That was Monday the 15th.

Tuesday was taken up with what I can see in hindsight was my grandmother trying to keep us occupied. We went and had haircuts; I had about 30cm chopped off my hair so it was to just below my shoulder blades and told Dad on the phone to "tell Nana about it". I still didn't know much about "acoma" but they'd told me that Nana could hear people talking to her.

N, H and myself didn't get told what had actually happened until Mum and Dad came home for dinner that night.

Not too long after Nana rang on Monday morning (to this day I don't know if Mum managed to talk to her one last time) they realised she needed to go back to the hospital. So she and Pa were packing the bags, and my grandfather came out of the bathroom to find her on the floor.

He performed CPR, and managed to resuscitate her, calling an ambulance. She was still unconscious.

The ambulance arrived (people living in my state will know that in 1993 we didn't have the best performance rate in that area)... and it was the wrong one. They needed an ICU ambulance.

The right ambulance eventually arrived, and they took her into the hospital, to the Intensive Care Unit, where she was put on life support etc.

Mum and Dad told us, when we asked "is she gonna die?" (something no parent wants to have to answer their children on) that she was probably going to live, unless things changed. That could be my memory playing up; I know that I desperately wanted Nana to live.

At around 8pm that evening, Mum and Dad got an urgent phone call from the hospital.

Wednesday 17th.

They said she's brain-dead, and wanted to take her off life support.

I wanted to come in and say goodbye. I was eleven and a half, I wanted this... but Mum and Dad said no. They said that they didn't want my last memories of my grandmother to be one of her lying lifeless, hooked up to a million machines with cords running everywhere. They have said since then they don't know if that was a good idea or not, however, that's what happened and I almost think I'm grateful for it.

I told them to tell them goodbye for me, and that was that. I had lost my grandmother.

Family was everything to my grandmother, and what really gets to me is the fact that out of all of her grandchildren, I'm probably the only one with even a slightly clear memory of her. Her other grandchildren were eight (two of them), six, five and three (twins). We'd see her almost daily, and she was one of those grandmothers who was willing to do anything for her family.

It nearly killed my great-grandmother. She'd been saying for thirty years that "this Christmas will be my last", and suddenly last Christmas was her daughter's last. Her daughter who died at 56, the same age as her husband was when he died (when my great-aunt turned 56 three years ago, we held our breath all year). She was in her eighties, and her daughter died before she did.

My mother gets mistaken for an anorexic at the best of times, and she lost an unhealthy amount of weight that year.

My grandmother loved to cook. The thing is, most of her recipes we all loved so much only existed in her head. Despite being in the middle of copying them down for Mum and my aunt when she died, many of them went to the grave with her. Mum and my aunt are often found calling each other when they find something that's almost like what Nana made... but there's always something missing.

That could have been Nana though. For example, the first Christmas after she died we had it at our house. My grandfather couldn't face having it where Nana used to cook for us all, nor could the rest of the family. So Mum's going through the recipe book, and gets out the one for steamed plum pudding. She starts listing the ingredients to buy, and down the bottom of the page she finds the words "and etcetera".

What the hell does "and etcetera" mean?!

She starts calling people. My great-grandmother, her aunt, her sister, anyone who could know what my grandmother meant by "and etcetera".

Eventually we figured out that it meant whatever she felt like throwing in at the time.

My grandmother was a rabid Carlton supporter. She'd be ready to kill John Elliot at the moment over what he did to her precious Blues. She always felt she failed in her duty... despite raising a family of Carlton supporters, all her children wound up marrying Collingwood supporters, Carlton's sworn enemy in the Australian Football League.

We seriously looked at spreading her ashes on the grounds at Princess Park (now known as Optus Oval), home to the Blues. We decided against it, and there's a nice bench marking the spot we spread them in the gardens at Olinda.

I need to finish this up. But today I just needed to remember.

Love you, Nana.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:25 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 16, 2003
Sigh. I love fics that have Buffy point out to Angel the crapness that is her life even more than I love the ones where someone else (Doyle, Whistler) points it out to him. From part 8 of Gia's Secrets & Lies: “Look, Angel, you have everything you ever wanted in LA. A flourishing business. Money in the bank. Friends. Family. Love. You even have a son, Angel. In short, you have a normal life. I had nothing. I had a crappy job at a burger joint, then another crappy job as a school counselor, a sister I was trying to raise on my own, friends that would send me out to face evil but not trust me to make my own decisions about my life, not to mention tons of bills from months of slayerettes staying at my house eating my food.” She paused and took a breath, “No one pays me for slaying night after night. I have no business cards with my name on them, no seer with visions to warn me about the next big bad evil that I’ll have to face. There are no trophies or rewards from apocalypses prevented, no expectations about moving up the ladder in my career, no grand plans about the future ahead of me. There’s no toy surprise, no great reward waiting for me when this is all over.” Buffy took a drink of her wine and soothed her hair. She didn’t blame him for the Shanshu prophecy; quite the contrary – she hoped very much for his sake that he found his redemption and got his reward. "All I get, Angel, is what you see now. Until one day I die and I’m replaced by the next girl that has to give up her life, her love, maybe even her happiness for something that’s bigger than herself.” She finished almost in a fury. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 6:27 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 16, 2003

Sigh. I love fics that have Buffy point out to Angel the crapness that is her life even more than I love the ones where someone else (Doyle, Whistler) points it out to him. From part 8 of Gia's Secrets & Lies:

“Look, Angel, you have everything you ever wanted in LA. A flourishing business. Money in the bank. Friends. Family. Love. You even have a son, Angel. In short, you have *a normal life.* I had nothing. I had a crappy job at a burger joint, then another crappy job as a school counselor, a sister I was trying to raise on my own, friends that would send me out to face evil but not trust me to make my own decisions about my life, not to mention tons of bills from months of slayerettes staying at my house eating my food.” She paused and took a breath, “No one pays me for slaying night after night. I have no business cards with my name on them, no seer with visions to warn me about the next big bad evil that I’ll have to face. There are no trophies or rewards from apocalypses prevented, no expectations about moving up the ladder in my career, no grand plans about the future ahead of me. There’s no toy surprise, no great reward waiting for me when this is all over.”

Buffy took a drink of her wine and soothed her hair. She didn’t blame him for the Shanshu prophecy; quite the contrary – she hoped very much for his sake that he found his redemption and got his reward.

"All I get, Angel, is what you see now. Until one day I die and I’m replaced by the next girl that has to give up her life, her love, maybe even her happiness for something that’s bigger than herself.” She finished almost in a fury.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 6:27 PM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 15, 2003
Squeeeeeeeee!! I love the ABC, really I do. I love Aunty more than words can say. Top 5 Reasons I Adore the ABC: 5. A tie between their news (which actually tells you what's happening) and Rage, for showing the new silverchair clip. 4. JJJ Breakfast. It makes waking up in the morning enjoyable, when there's Wil Anderson and Adam Spencer to listen to. 3. Badly Drawn Boy will be on The Fat next Friday. 2. Speaking of next Friday, The Glass House will be returning. I may have to start using my Wil Anderson LJ icon. 10:25 pm -- The Glass House [M, PIC: Adult themes and material that may offend.] Series return. Wil, Corinne & Dave investigate the strangest news of the week, lay bare the darkest secrets of their personal lives & ask reasonably special guests embarrassing questions. With The Greens' Kerry Nettle and Ben Lee. And the number one reason I'm currently in complete and utter adoration of the ABC: 1. Starting this Thursday at 9pm, they'll be screening Manchild. Squeeeeeeeee!! 9:00 pm -- Manchild [M, PIC: Contains coarse language, adult themes, and a sex scene] Witty look at the new adolescence of the 50-something male. Terry and his friends have paid the alimony and the emotional price. Now they're ready to be men-about-town and this time they have the money to do it in style. Nigel Havers :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:17 PM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 15, 2003

Squeeeeeeeee!!

I love the ABC, really I do. I love Aunty more than words can say.

Top 5 Reasons I Adore the ABC:

5. A tie between their news (which actually tells you what's happening) and Rage, for showing the new silverchair clip.

4. JJJ Breakfast. It makes waking up in the morning enjoyable, when there's Wil Anderson and Adam Spencer to listen to.

3. Badly Drawn Boy will be on The Fat next Friday.

2. Speaking of next Friday, The Glass House will be returning. I may have to start using my Wil Anderson LJ icon.
10:25 pm -- The Glass House [M, PIC: Adult themes and material that may offend.]
Series return. Wil, Corinne & Dave investigate the strangest news of the week, lay bare the darkest secrets of their personal lives & ask reasonably special guests embarrassing questions. With The Greens' Kerry Nettle and Ben Lee.

And the number one reason I'm currently in complete and utter adoration of the ABC:

1. Starting this Thursday at 9pm, they'll be screening Manchild. Squeeeeeeeee!!
9:00 pm -- Manchild [M, PIC: Contains coarse language, adult themes, and a sex scene]
Witty look at the new adolescence of the 50-something male. Terry and his friends have paid the alimony and the emotional price. Now they're ready to be men-about-town and this time they have the money to do it in style. Nigel Havers

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:17 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 14, 2003
Firstly, again with the new iconage. I blame Diana for the two Mr. Blobby ones (it's very sad), but it's my own obsessions with yet another Tim Tams icon. I need to get back to that Buffy-icon-obession, really. I think it was healthier. Yesterday, the Prime Minister of Australia, the Honourable (well, that's questionable...) John Howard made this very long-winded speech with a total lack of charisma about Iraq. I watched about half of it live (I'm a masochist) but turned the TV off in disgust when he said the following: Bin Laden identified Australia as a terrorist target because of the intervention in East Timor. Let me pose the question, if that threat had been issued prior to the invention in 1999 should the Australian government have pulled back? I think not. Would the Australian public have wanted the government then in the face of that threat to have pulled back? I think not. Okay, I agree with him in the context in which it was given, BUT. As someone who wrote letters and campaigned long and hard for Australia to at least recognise what was happening in East Timor, can I just say how much that statement got under my collar in a bad way? The situation with Iraq is completely different to that which existed in East Timor. As far as I'm concerned, what the Western stance on Iraq is doing, is simply breeding further anti-Western sentiment and future terrorists. Colin Powell, I think it was, said recently that the new regime after they topple Saddam would look favourably upon the nations that helped oust the previous government. The people won't. The people of Iraq don't see the West as some powers who are looking out for them. They see us as the people who make it so they don't have medicines when they are sick, that they can't have clean water, that they can't have the basic necessities of life due to the sanctions placed upon their nation. They won't see the food relief as a blessing during war, but they will remember the terror of the bombs dropping every day for a decade. If I can be shown solid proof that Iraq still has "weapons of mass destruction" and are a threat (I don't like Saddam and think the sooner he gets out of power the better, but at the moment I can't see anything coming from him in terms of world-peril), I'll eat my words. I'll issue a public apology for every anti-war comment I have made. I'll even drink coffee at Starbucks and eat at McDonalds. I'm yet to see proof that makes me think I need to start composing the odes. Show me proof. Show me something that says this rush towards war is necessary. Show me something that justifies the loss of thousands upon thousands of lives. Show me something that says we don't need approval from the U.N. to march towards war, and I'll be quiet. Until then, I'll stand firm in my belief that this is unnecessary and dangerously stupid, and that without a U.N. mandate anyone who orders the march to war is guilty of government-sponsored terrorism. p.s. if anyone is even more masochistic than me and wants to read the speech in full, you can find it here. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:19 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 14, 2003

Firstly, again with the new iconage. I blame Diana for the two Mr. Blobby ones (it's very sad), but it's my own obsessions with yet another Tim Tams icon. I need to get back to that Buffy-icon-obession, really. I think it was healthier.

Yesterday, the Prime Minister of Australia, the Honourable (well, that's questionable...) John Howard made this very long-winded speech with a total lack of charisma about Iraq. I watched about half of it live (I'm a masochist) but turned the TV off in disgust when he said the following:

Bin Laden identified Australia as a terrorist target because of the intervention in East Timor. Let me pose the question, if that threat had been issued prior to the invention in 1999 should the Australian government have pulled back? I think not. Would the Australian public have wanted the government then in the face of that threat to have pulled back? I think not.

Okay, I agree with him in the context in which it was given, BUT. As someone who wrote letters and campaigned long and hard for Australia to at least recognise what was happening in East Timor, can I just say how much that statement got under my collar in a bad way?

The situation with Iraq is completely different to that which existed in East Timor.

As far as I'm concerned, what the Western stance on Iraq is doing, is simply breeding further anti-Western sentiment and future terrorists. Colin Powell, I think it was, said recently that the new regime after they topple Saddam would look favourably upon the nations that helped oust the previous government.

The people won't. The people of Iraq don't see the West as some powers who are looking out for them. They see us as the people who make it so they don't have medicines when they are sick, that they can't have clean water, that they can't have the basic necessities of life due to the sanctions placed upon their nation. They won't see the food relief as a blessing during war, but they will remember the terror of the bombs dropping every day for a decade.

If I can be shown solid proof that Iraq still has "weapons of mass destruction" and are a threat (I don't like Saddam and think the sooner he gets out of power the better, but at the moment I can't see anything coming from him in terms of world-peril), I'll eat my words. I'll issue a public apology for every anti-war comment I have made. I'll even drink coffee at Starbucks and eat at McDonalds.

I'm yet to see proof that makes me think I need to start composing the odes.

Show me proof. Show me something that says this rush towards war is necessary. Show me something that justifies the loss of thousands upon thousands of lives. Show me something that says we don't need approval from the U.N. to march towards war, and I'll be quiet.

Until then, I'll stand firm in my belief that this is unnecessary and dangerously stupid, and that without a U.N. mandate anyone who orders the march to war is guilty of government-sponsored terrorism.

p.s. if anyone is even more masochistic than me and wants to read the speech in full, you can find it here.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:19 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 13, 2003
I've been doing the parody-of-fanfiction fics today, and because I'm hopelessly addicted to posting at least once a day (don't ask me why) I'm just sharing the links. The fic that started my going-through-them-all-afternoon was actually a West Wing fic. I've never watched the show, but everyone has to read Any Given Day. Then there's Matt's After a Day's Work at the NC17 Studio which... lmao!! But I still think that my favourites are HonorH's 'Ships that Pass Into Type saga, the third of which I hadn't read until today (note to self: must check her page on fanfic.net more often). There's 'Ships that Pass Into Type, Some 'Ships Shouldn't Sail and the new one, Loose Lips, Sinking 'Ships (which concludes that AtS canon-ships have finally gotten stranger than anything the fans have ever thought up). I'd rec Serena's Free Time and The Meeting, but a). I don't know if Serena would thank me for it, and b). they're more the characters railing against the writers, rather than the fanfic people. Same with Matt's The Wonderland Option. But have spent a highly amused afternoon. Which was much better after that very strange Buffy/Glory fic. Side-note: sobbing over the loss of Yahoo Groups this weekend. As I said to Dawny, sometimes I get frustrated by the crap that gets sent out, but how will I survive without it?! p.s. a Tim Tam icon at the icony page. edited because I freaked out FaithGirl, Groups isn't going away completely. This is what they're saying: The Yahoo! Groups service will be down for scheduled maintenance Friday, March 15, 9:00 PM PST (GMT-8) as we move our servers to a new facility. We expect the service to be restored the morning of Sunday March 17. During this time the web site will be unavailable and email will not be delivered. (Some users may experience email non-delivery notices while the service is down, but all email should be delivered once service is resumed.) Please note: once the service is restored, there will be email delays due to backlog. We expect these delays to last no longer than 1 day. Please do not re-send email to your group as this will only add to delays. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. The Yahoo! Groups Team :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:43 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 13, 2003

I've been doing the parody-of-fanfiction fics today, and because I'm hopelessly addicted to posting at least once a day (don't ask me why) I'm just sharing the links.

The fic that started my going-through-them-all-afternoon was actually a West Wing fic. I've never watched the show, but everyone has to read Any Given Day.

Then there's Matt's After a Day's Work at the NC17 Studio which... lmao!!

But I still think that my favourites are HonorH's 'Ships that Pass Into Type saga, the third of which I hadn't read until today (note to self: must check her page on fanfic.net more often).

There's 'Ships that Pass Into Type, Some 'Ships Shouldn't Sail and the new one, Loose Lips, Sinking 'Ships (which concludes that AtS canon-ships have finally gotten stranger than anything the fans have ever thought up).

I'd rec Serena's Free Time and The Meeting, but a). I don't know if Serena would thank me for it, and b). they're more the characters railing against the writers, rather than the fanfic people. Same with Matt's The Wonderland Option.

But have spent a highly amused afternoon. Which was much better after that very strange Buffy/Glory fic.

Side-note: sobbing over the loss of Yahoo Groups this weekend. As I said to Dawny, sometimes I get frustrated by the crap that gets sent out, but how will I survive without it?!

p.s. a Tim Tam icon at the icony page.

edited because I freaked out FaithGirl, Groups isn't going away completely. This is what they're saying:

The Yahoo! Groups service will be down for scheduled maintenance Friday, March 15, 9:00 PM PST (GMT-8) as we move our servers to a new facility. We expect the service to be restored the morning of Sunday March 17.

During this time the web site will be unavailable and email will not be delivered. (Some users may experience email non-delivery notices while the service is down, but all email should be delivered once service is resumed.) Please note: once the service is restored, there will be email delays due to backlog. We expect these delays to last no longer than 1 day. Please do not re-send email to your group as this will only add to delays.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

The Yahoo! Groups Team

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:43 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 12, 2003
Article in today's Age on Fametracker and TWoP. I kept looking for a Miss Windy quote and couldn't find one <sigh> Am at the local library, which as a service... well... sucks. Sorry to any of the librarians going through the history and reading this <g> but it's true. But I'm on the children's computer which appears to have both MSN and YIM installed... may have to come back after I've signed the forms in an hour... I'm sure I had other stuff I wanted to say, but I've forgotten what it was. The other highlight of today's paper? A cartoon on the front page with the American and British delegates to the UN Security Council storming away from the table as the Russian and French delegates glare at them, with the USA and UK people angrily declaring, "Iraq needs a democracy!" "And the U.N. needs a dictatorship!" :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:32 AM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 12, 2003

Article in today's Age on Fametracker and TWoP. I kept looking for a Miss Windy quote and couldn't find one <sigh>

Am at the local library, which as a service... well... sucks. Sorry to any of the librarians going through the history and reading this <g> but it's true. But I'm on the children's computer which appears to have both MSN and YIM installed... may have to come back after I've signed the forms in an hour...

I'm sure I had other stuff I wanted to say, but I've forgotten what it was.

The other highlight of today's paper? A cartoon on the front page with the American and British delegates to the UN Security Council storming away from the table as the Russian and French delegates glare at them, with the USA and UK people angrily declaring, "Iraq needs a democracy!" "And the U.N. needs a dictatorship!"

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:32 AM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 11, 2003
Okay. Major Quote Squee. I got an email with S.J. Smith's new one-piece Wasteland. Her sig was this quote: "You have friends with a bond that grows stronger every day, while [Buffy] watches her bonds of friendship fade more and more. You have a prophecy telling of redemption and reward, while she has only the promise of a lifetime of fighting...You are experiencing a new love where she has only found failure in every relationship she attempts...And finally, you have a son, the one thing you claimed was your motivation for leaving. To give her the opportunity to have a family, but she's alone and look at you." Doyle, to Angel, "Dreams of Forever" -- Jossfan28 Bear in mind that I haven't read it yet... but my God, that quote!!! and heh... just going to tape Buffy for H... next on Buffy... "who needs enemies when you have a best friend like this?" -- they were indicating that it was Willow who "must be stopped" in Selfless. Nothing like misleading the public... :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:24 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 11, 2003

Okay. Major Quote Squee. I got an email with S.J. Smith's new one-piece Wasteland. Her sig was this quote:

"You have friends with a bond that grows stronger every day, while [Buffy] watches her bonds of friendship fade more and more. You have a prophecy telling of redemption and reward, while she has only the promise of a lifetime of fighting...You are experiencing a new love where she has only found failure in every relationship she attempts...And finally, you have a son, the one thing you claimed was your motivation for leaving. To give her the opportunity to have a family, but she's alone and look at you." Doyle, to Angel, "Dreams of Forever" -- Jossfan28

Bear in mind that I haven't read it yet... but my God, that quote!!!

and heh... just going to tape Buffy for H... next on Buffy... "who needs enemies when you have a best friend like this?" -- they were indicating that it was Willow who "must be stopped" in Selfless. Nothing like misleading the public...

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:24 PM [x] ::

l
I received a phone call at 4pm this afternoon. Should I manage to get off intensive assistance, I can be accepted into the training program I had the interview and testing for. I guess I'm supposed to feel elated at this. After all, in nearly 12 months of unemployment, during which time I applied for every job available within the local area, I'd only gotten as far as an interview once before this. Yet I'm filled with what I can only describe as dread at the thought of this. I've known for some time that part-time work would suit me infinitely more than full-time. Whilst this would not allow for financial freedom, it would allow me to retain peace of mind and some semblance of sanity, allowing me to stave of what I'm beginning to view as an inevitable emotional breakdown when faced with the stresses of Real Life in The Real World. I worked in the library for 20 to 30 hours a week, if that, and whilst it didn't pay quite as well as to allow me the financial independence I crave it allowed me to stay sane. I was there for over four months with no sign of emotional stress, whilst at the accounting firm (my time there still gives me nightmares) I was told to get home as quickly as possible where my parents could watch me by that stage. I was heading rapidly in that direction after a month of being faced with my inadequacies at the bakery. I guess that's why I was disappointed when I discovered that I didn't get the bank teller position. Not only because it was the closest I'd gotten to employment for so long, but because I would have had one day off a week, in addition to the weekends. The fact that it was Tuesdays, and as such a day when my doctor was available for our appointments, was an added bonus. That's the thing with me being in full-time employment. My doctor is a GP. I find that GPs are much better than psychiatrists or whatever; I don't know why, but the two GPs I've seen make more headway in one session than any shrink has in the entire time I've seen them. But her appointments -- the one-hour ones, anyway -- are only available at 9am. Here, Working!Smurfy, you can become a Valuable Member of Society and not just a Burden On The System, you can stop feeling self-conscious every time you see the unemployment statistics and you can make some contribution to the economy, but we'll cut you off from every ounce of support you've managed to build for yourself over time. The thing is... the thing is, I need this. I need to get into a position where I'm not stagnating in an unhealthy lifestyle as I have been. I need to go out and join the Real World again. But there's fear, and there's a strong knowledge of how badly my track record has been in that area. This program will run for four weeks, during which time I'll still be on Centrelink benefits. Licence-less me will be catching a bus at 7.37am every morning, and getting home after 6pm each day. I know that this will bring up the old issues with my father, who will be saying how I should have been taking driving lessons. Never mind my issues and the fact that I get the shakes at the thought of getting behind the wheel of a car (let's just say my first experiences with my father at driving were less than savoury, and with my self-esteem etc I become that quivering wreck again every time I get in the car with someone I don't know. Which is really good when said person is a driving tester. I've been going through meditative exercises with my doctor, but as yet...). But I'm happy to pay the $9 a day in bus fares. The $18 a day without any form of concession, should the placement they find me be in town (and it most likely will be) may be a stretch, but I'm willing to do almost anything to avoid the stress of the driving issue. But yeah. I won't be around much in terms of chat-time as of next Monday (Sunday USA time). Although I will be around more in the Australian time-zones for chatting... I'll just have to make sure I'm online over the weekends, and rediscover the wonders of email, as opposed to instant messaging. Random thought of the day: The Diary of Anne Frank is the most-read diary/journal in the world. Would The Very Secret Diaries count on such a list, and if so, how far down would they be? :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:28 PM [x] ::

I received a phone call at 4pm this afternoon. Should I manage to get off intensive assistance, I can be accepted into the training program I had the interview and testing for.

I guess I'm supposed to feel elated at this. After all, in nearly 12 months of unemployment, during which time I applied for every job available within the local area, I'd only gotten as far as an interview once before this.

Yet I'm filled with what I can only describe as dread at the thought of this.

I've known for some time that part-time work would suit me infinitely more than full-time. Whilst this would not allow for financial freedom, it would allow me to retain peace of mind and some semblance of sanity, allowing me to stave of what I'm beginning to view as an inevitable emotional breakdown when faced with the stresses of Real Life in The Real World. I worked in the library for 20 to 30 hours a week, if that, and whilst it didn't pay quite as well as to allow me the financial independence I crave it allowed me to stay sane. I was there for over four months with no sign of emotional stress, whilst at the accounting firm (my time there still gives me nightmares) I was told to get home as quickly as possible where my parents could watch me by that stage. I was heading rapidly in that direction after a month of being faced with my inadequacies at the bakery.

I guess that's why I was disappointed when I discovered that I didn't get the bank teller position. Not only because it was the closest I'd gotten to employment for so long, but because I would have had one day off a week, in addition to the weekends. The fact that it was Tuesdays, and as such a day when my doctor was available for our appointments, was an added bonus.

That's the thing with me being in full-time employment. My doctor is a GP. I find that GPs are much better than psychiatrists or whatever; I don't know why, but the two GPs I've seen make more headway in one session than any shrink has in the entire time I've seen them. But her appointments -- the one-hour ones, anyway -- are only available at 9am.

Here, Working!Smurfy, you can become a Valuable Member of Society and not just a Burden On The System, you can stop feeling self-conscious every time you see the unemployment statistics and you can make some contribution to the economy, but we'll cut you off from every ounce of support you've managed to build for yourself over time.

The thing is... the thing is, I need this. I need to get into a position where I'm not stagnating in an unhealthy lifestyle as I have been. I need to go out and join the Real World again. But there's fear, and there's a strong knowledge of how badly my track record has been in that area.

This program will run for four weeks, during which time I'll still be on Centrelink benefits. Licence-less me will be catching a bus at 7.37am every morning, and getting home after 6pm each day. I know that this will bring up the old issues with my father, who will be saying how I should have been taking driving lessons. Never mind my issues and the fact that I get the shakes at the thought of getting behind the wheel of a car (let's just say my first experiences with my father at driving were less than savoury, and with my self-esteem etc I become that quivering wreck again every time I get in the car with someone I don't know. Which is really good when said person is a driving tester. I've been going through meditative exercises with my doctor, but as yet...). But I'm happy to pay the $9 a day in bus fares. The $18 a day without any form of concession, should the placement they find me be in town (and it most likely will be) may be a stretch, but I'm willing to do almost anything to avoid the stress of the driving issue.

But yeah. I won't be around much in terms of chat-time as of next Monday (Sunday USA time). Although I will be around more in the Australian time-zones for chatting...

I'll just have to make sure I'm online over the weekends, and rediscover the wonders of email, as opposed to instant messaging.

Random thought of the day: The Diary of Anne Frank is the most-read diary/journal in the world. Would The Very Secret Diaries count on such a list, and if so, how far down would they be?

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:28 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 10, 2003
I had a number of errands I wanted to run today. I wanted to go to the post office, go to a Centrelink office, go to the local job network place, and a couple of other bits and pieces. So I'm lying in bed awake at 7am, wondering why I can't hear H going around and getting ready for school. When suddenly I remember. It's the Labour Day public holiday in Victoria. Doh! Is it just me, or is this year zooming by? <sigh> I remember when each year seemed to drag on and on, and it was forever between each summer holiday (and by extension, Christmas). And yet it's mid-March already. I haven't given anything up for Lent. I'd actually forgotten it was Lent until I saw the Shrove Tuesday/Ash Wednesday stuff on the calendar; see my comments about the year going by too quickly. But I have a friend who will give up coffee each Lent, and has a tin in her kitchen to donate 20cents to the Royal Children's Hospital Good Friday Appeal for every coffee she has. Needless to say, she gives a fair bit to the charity. Giving up stuff for Lent has never been something that looms large in my family. We're not Catholic, but members of the Uniting Church of Australia, so very protestant (despite the Catholic school education all us kids received). Church and faith in general has always been a part of my life. If you look in my baby books, under "first outing" there's the words "church picnic". I remember going into shock when I went to kindergarten and realised for the first time that there were people who didn't go to church. Sure, my paternal grandparents didn't go, but I thought that was an aberration; all my friends were members of the church, as were my parent's social circle. My parents met via church youth groups. My father's been a Uniting Church Minister for (almost) nine years now. But I've always been pretty casual about my faith. Sure, I used to go to church every Sunday, but at the moment it's not even Good Friday and Easter, it's only Christmas Day I darken the church's door. I don't pray every night, although we say a standard grace at the dinner table (if it's me, N or H saying it, it's simply a very rote "dear heavenly father, thank you for this lovely food, amen"). I actually have huge problems with evangelism, and I find the people going around telling you to repent or go to hell, the people standing on the steps of Flinders Street Station reading from the bible, the people who go around trying to convert people... I have as huge problems with them as anyone else. Heh. Dad's brushing Jasper to get rid of what he's shedding, and the cat's in ecstasy. Anyway. I don't know where I'm going with this, but over Lent (and especially over Holy Week) I tend to reflect on faith and spirituality. I almost wish I'd gone with Dad to his services yesterday (they weren't at the local church) because apparently he was going to talk about how even God makes mistakes and sins, and has to apologise for them. It would have been interesting to see how the congregation reacts to something like that. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:59 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 10, 2003

I had a number of errands I wanted to run today.

I wanted to go to the post office, go to a Centrelink office, go to the local job network place, and a couple of other bits and pieces.

So I'm lying in bed awake at 7am, wondering why I can't hear H going around and getting ready for school.

When suddenly I remember.

It's the Labour Day public holiday in Victoria. Doh!

Is it just me, or is this year zooming by? <sigh> I remember when each year seemed to drag on and on, and it was forever between each summer holiday (and by extension, Christmas). And yet it's mid-March already.

I haven't given anything up for Lent. I'd actually forgotten it was Lent until I saw the Shrove Tuesday/Ash Wednesday stuff on the calendar; see my comments about the year going by too quickly. But I have a friend who will give up coffee each Lent, and has a tin in her kitchen to donate 20cents to the Royal Children's Hospital Good Friday Appeal for every coffee she has. Needless to say, she gives a fair bit to the charity.

Giving up stuff for Lent has never been something that looms large in my family. We're not Catholic, but members of the Uniting Church of Australia, so very protestant (despite the Catholic school education all us kids received).

Church and faith in general has always been a part of my life. If you look in my baby books, under "first outing" there's the words "church picnic". I remember going into shock when I went to kindergarten and realised for the first time that there were people who didn't go to church. Sure, my paternal grandparents didn't go, but I thought that was an aberration; all my friends were members of the church, as were my parent's social circle. My parents met via church youth groups. My father's been a Uniting Church Minister for (almost) nine years now.

But I've always been pretty casual about my faith.

Sure, I used to go to church every Sunday, but at the moment it's not even Good Friday and Easter, it's only Christmas Day I darken the church's door. I don't pray every night, although we say a standard grace at the dinner table (if it's me, N or H saying it, it's simply a very rote "dear heavenly father, thank you for this lovely food, amen"). I actually have huge problems with evangelism, and I find the people going around telling you to repent or go to hell, the people standing on the steps of Flinders Street Station reading from the bible, the people who go around trying to convert people... I have as huge problems with them as anyone else.

Heh. Dad's brushing Jasper to get rid of what he's shedding, and the cat's in ecstasy.

Anyway. I don't know where I'm going with this, but over Lent (and especially over Holy Week) I tend to reflect on faith and spirituality.

I almost wish I'd gone with Dad to his services yesterday (they weren't at the local church) because apparently he was going to talk about how even God makes mistakes and sins, and has to apologise for them. It would have been interesting to see how the congregation reacts to something like that.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 1:59 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 09, 2003
Because it's still Sunday here and the seven is up, for once I'm going to actually do... Seven on Sunday Seven on Sunday: Seven super powers you'd love to have 1. This girl-without-a-license would love to fly... it would also make that Big International Trip (Tour de Babble) a lot cheaper, although I'd like to not be shot down by the Star Wars Missile Detection System, please. 2. To walk through walls. I don't know why. I just think it would be cool. As long as I could still sit in a chair and not sink through the floor, please. 3. A faster metabolism. That's enough of a superpower for me ;) 4. Move things with my mind. Because I'm lazy. Although that might explain part of the metabolism bit... 5. Super strength. Or super-good immune system, in any case. 6. God, this is hard. I'm running out of ideas. X-ray vision... in case I ever meet Viggo. It would also help with the mess that is my room. 7. The ability to heal things. Other people. So I could fly to Africa and cure the AIDS epidempic. And speaking of, did anyone else hear about the village in which 68 children were immunised with the one needle in the middle of the AIDS epidemic?? God, that... the poor people there. BTW, Copper, if you're reading this at LJ, go look at my drool page. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:13 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 09, 2003

Because it's still Sunday here and the seven is up, for once I'm going to actually do...

Seven on Sunday

Seven on Sunday: Seven super powers you'd love to have
1. This girl-without-a-license would love to fly... it would also make that Big International Trip (Tour de Babble) a lot cheaper, although I'd like to not be shot down by the Star Wars Missile Detection System, please.
2. To walk through walls. I don't know why. I just think it would be cool. As long as I could still sit in a chair and not sink through the floor, please.
3. A faster metabolism. That's enough of a superpower for me ;)
4. Move things with my mind. Because I'm lazy. Although that might explain part of the metabolism bit...
5. Super strength. Or super-good immune system, in any case.
6. God, this is hard. I'm running out of ideas. X-ray vision... in case I ever meet Viggo. It would also help with the mess that is my room.
7. The ability to heal things. Other people. So I could fly to Africa and cure the AIDS epidempic.

And speaking of, did anyone else hear about the village in which 68 children were immunised with the one needle in the middle of the AIDS epidemic?? God, that... the poor people there.

BTW, Copper, if you're reading this at LJ, go look at my drool page.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:13 PM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 08, 2003
I don't know if it's Australia-wide or not, but here in Victoria you're going to get a speeding fine if you're three kilometres or so over the speed limit. This has caused a storm of letters to the editor in newspapers, and people complaining about "revenue raising" and how unfair it all is. Generally, I haven't had much sympathy for these people because I figure that speeding is speeding and you should generally know how fast you're driving (I also don't drive and so have no chance of ever being caught over the speed limit). Then my grandfather was caught doing 65km/h in a 60 zone. You all know my grandfather. He's the grey-haired man in the car with the hats in the back window, sitting at least 10km/h below the speed limit. He's the one you're always caught behind whenever you're in a rush to get somewhere, who takes forever to turn a corner and is generally one of the most frustrating drivers ever to anyone else on the roads. One day he said, blow it, it's 8am on a Sunday on a deserted country road and who's going to notice if I do five kilometres over the speed limit? He's now the guy sitting 15km/h below the speed limit. My Mutual Groupie just shared some BtVS spoilers with me... not happy, but discussing it with her I may get my "bigger-than-The Gift" episode after all... :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:50 PM [x] ::

l Saturday, March 08, 2003

I don't know if it's Australia-wide or not, but here in Victoria you're going to get a speeding fine if you're three kilometres or so over the speed limit.

This has caused a storm of letters to the editor in newspapers, and people complaining about "revenue raising" and how unfair it all is. Generally, I haven't had much sympathy for these people because I figure that speeding is speeding and you should generally know how fast you're driving (I also don't drive and so have no chance of ever being caught over the speed limit).

Then my grandfather was caught doing 65km/h in a 60 zone.

You all know my grandfather. He's the grey-haired man in the car with the hats in the back window, sitting at least 10km/h below the speed limit. He's the one you're always caught behind whenever you're in a rush to get somewhere, who takes forever to turn a corner and is generally one of the most frustrating drivers ever to anyone else on the roads.

One day he said, blow it, it's 8am on a Sunday on a deserted country road and who's going to notice if I do five kilometres over the speed limit?

He's now the guy sitting 15km/h below the speed limit.

My Mutual Groupie just shared some BtVS spoilers with me... not happy, but discussing it with her I may get my "bigger-than-The Gift" episode after all...

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:50 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 07, 2003
Having now actually seen About A Boy (and yes, I bought the DVD before seeing the film. I adore Nick Hornby, so...) any part of me not in total lust with Badly Drawn Boy is now gone. So not fair. I want to be Peter David when I grow up. Even if he thinks AtS is better than BtVS (I take it he's skipped most of the last season...). I could be bitchy and point out that he can't spell "Lyla"... But that could be me thinking that bringing out the CHEEKBONES equivilent does not a series make ;) Anyway. I'll say hi because it seems some people get all excited when they're mentioned in an entry <g> so here's a shout-out. I actually realised today that daylight savings will be ending here soon, and so my entire internal clock regarding international time-zones will be thrown out by a couple of hours. This may suck... :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:02 PM [x] ::

l Friday, March 07, 2003

Having now actually seen About A Boy (and yes, I bought the DVD before seeing the film. I adore Nick Hornby, so...) any part of me not in total lust with Badly Drawn Boy is now gone. So not fair.

I want to be Peter David when I grow up. Even if he thinks AtS is better than BtVS (I take it he's skipped most of the last season...). I could be bitchy and point out that he can't spell "Lyla"...

But that could be me thinking that bringing out the CHEEKBONES equivilent does not a series make ;)

Anyway. I'll say hi because it seems some people get all excited when they're mentioned in an entry <g> so here's a shout-out.

I actually realised today that daylight savings will be ending here soon, and so my entire internal clock regarding international time-zones will be thrown out by a couple of hours. This may suck...

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:02 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 06, 2003
Firstly, new layout at the blog... procrastinate? Moi? I need to thank Faithgirl once again for the fantastic Princess Bride layout that, alas, is no longer with us. It was a fantastic layout, sweets, I just felt the need for a change. And I'm kind of hoping this works the way I want it to now!!! Stupid screwy tag board... New layout is, of course, Bad Eggs. If you don't know who the couple are, I have to wonder why you're reading this. See, Emily, I can still ship with the best of them <g> Of course, as soon as I finished making this one I had an urge to make an Alison Mack one... that may arrive when the second season of Smallville arrives here. Okay, a side-note for font-addicted peoples... does anyone have any idea why not all the fonts in my fonts folder (and yes, they're all True Type .ttf files) are accessible in Word or PSP etc? I've tried re-installing them, but it's not working -- it's also annoying me no end. I spent today in town, visiting doctors, taking employment tests and trying to find people birthday presents. The shops wouldn't co-operate for some people's so they may be a little late, and I think I really want to keep what I got for someone else (who, I might add, didn't actually tell me it was her birthday <pointed look> and may get a scolding for it next time we cross paths). The doctor's visit was actually <gasp> productive today... I'm not sure, but I think hell might have frozen over. I need to spend the time until my next appointment looking at what "works" in my life at the moment... because obviously something is working in my life, or else I'd be a blob on the floor. And the only time I'm actually a blob on the floor is when I turn into mush over fluffy fanfiction, but let's not go there. We came up with some interesting theories, my doctor and I, but I just need to keep thinking about that. Hence I'm typing it here, because heaven knows it's the only way I'll remember it. Of course, then I burst into tears about ten minutes before my hour-long appointment finished as I told her that it's almost the tenth anniversary of my grandmother's death. General warning to all: don't expect a bright, bubbly or green post on St Patrick's Day from me. My grandmother died after spending three days in a coma in ICU following an asthma attack at the age of 56 on the 17th March 1993, and I'm currently feeling like I'm in the first stages of grief again. Okay, that's a lie. It's not the first stages, but I'm feeling it more than I have in quite some time. I know that reading about Rae's loss has made me remember it all more vividly, but... I probably should talk to my mother about it all, given how she was for a good year or so after Nana's death (my mother gets mistaken for an anorexic at the best of times, and in the year following she lost way too much weight) and I know that she'll be feeling it, but I don't know how to bring up the topic. Mum and I... well... I think most people will know we aren't terribly close all the time. We care, but we… clash. We cope better when we're not living in the same house, but please note Smurfy's situation in life. Since I was in town today, and feeling a little blue after going through it all with the doctor (also feeling very frustrated after the spelling and grammar section of the testing... circle the spelling and grammar mistakes, and it read like the worst piece of fanfic you've ever read. I wanted to circle the entire document)... so retail therapy. I want to buy out Just Jeans and their winter wardrobe. Seriously. Their winter coats... I'm not meant to want lambskin. I'm not. I feel guilty enough wearing leather shoes. But they were so. nice. And they have 20% off all skirts, and they had nice long suede ones and... and... and I don't do retail therapy on clothing, so I didn't buy anything. But I love winter clothing so much. I'm never tempted by summer fashions, but I love being able to wear my winter wardrobe. I've got three times as many outfits for winter as I do for summer (although given I have about three outfits for the summer months, that's not saying much). So I responded by going into Collins and into Sanity and into Myers... I had to get H a PSP game (The Clone Wars) so I "accidentally" found copies of About A Boy and Notting Hill (it was a package deal) along with Four Weddings And A Funeral (it was only $14.95... how could I say no?!) on the EFTPOS transaction. Then when I was getting some of those presents, I found that a Norah Jones single was only $2.95, and I love b-sides... and Neon Ballroom was on special and my copy's kinda worn out (and with N at uni) so... and then Janis was only $14.95, so... Sigh. I should have all plastic cards taken away from me whenever I go into town. Seriously. At least I avoided buying AtS season 2... that's next week's job (didn't I say that last fortnight?) :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:12 PM [x] ::

l Thursday, March 06, 2003

Firstly, new layout at the blog... procrastinate? Moi?

I need to thank Faithgirl once again for the fantastic Princess Bride layout that, alas, is no longer with us. It was a fantastic layout, sweets, I just felt the need for a change. And I'm kind of hoping this works the way I want it to now!!! Stupid screwy tag board...

New layout is, of course, Bad Eggs. If you don't know who the couple are, I have to wonder why you're reading this. See, Emily, I can still ship with the best of them <g>

Of course, as soon as I finished making this one I had an urge to make an Alison Mack one... that may arrive when the second season of Smallville arrives here.

Okay, a side-note for font-addicted peoples... does anyone have any idea why not all the fonts in my fonts folder (and yes, they're all True Type .ttf files) are accessible in Word or PSP etc? I've tried re-installing them, but it's not working -- it's also annoying me no end.

I spent today in town, visiting doctors, taking employment tests and trying to find people birthday presents. The shops wouldn't co-operate for some people's so they may be a little late, and I think I really want to keep what I got for someone else (who, I might add, didn't actually tell me it was her birthday <pointed look> and may get a scolding for it next time we cross paths).

The doctor's visit was actually <gasp> productive today... I'm not sure, but I think hell might have frozen over. I need to spend the time until my next appointment looking at what "works" in my life at the moment... because obviously something is working in my life, or else I'd be a blob on the floor. And the only time I'm actually a blob on the floor is when I turn into mush over fluffy fanfiction, but let's not go there.

We came up with some interesting theories, my doctor and I, but I just need to keep thinking about that. Hence I'm typing it here, because heaven knows it's the only way I'll remember it.

Of course, then I burst into tears about ten minutes before my hour-long appointment finished as I told her that it's almost the tenth anniversary of my grandmother's death.

General warning to all: don't expect a bright, bubbly or green post on St Patrick's Day from me. My grandmother died after spending three days in a coma in ICU following an asthma attack at the age of 56 on the 17th March 1993, and I'm currently feeling like I'm in the first stages of grief again.

Okay, that's a lie. It's not the first stages, but I'm feeling it more than I have in quite some time. I know that reading about Rae's loss has made me remember it all more vividly, but... I probably should talk to my mother about it all, given how she was for a good year or so after Nana's death (my mother gets mistaken for an anorexic at the best of times, and in the year following she lost way too much weight) and I know that she'll be feeling it, but I don't know how to bring up the topic. Mum and I... well... I think most people will know we aren't terribly close all the time. We care, but we… clash. We cope better when we're not living in the same house, but please note Smurfy's situation in life.

Since I was in town today, and feeling a little blue after going through it all with the doctor (also feeling very frustrated after the spelling and grammar section of the testing... circle the spelling and grammar mistakes, and it read like the worst piece of fanfic you've ever read. I wanted to circle the entire document)... so retail therapy.

I want to buy out Just Jeans and their winter wardrobe. Seriously. Their winter coats... I'm not meant to want lambskin. I'm not. I feel guilty enough wearing leather shoes. But they were so. nice. And they have 20% off all skirts, and they had nice long suede ones and... and... and I don't do retail therapy on clothing, so I didn't buy anything. But I love winter clothing so much. I'm never tempted by summer fashions, but I love being able to wear my winter wardrobe. I've got three times as many outfits for winter as I do for summer (although given I have about three outfits for the summer months, that's not saying much).

So I responded by going into Collins and into Sanity and into Myers... I had to get H a PSP game (The Clone Wars) so I "accidentally" found copies of About A Boy and Notting Hill (it was a package deal) along with Four Weddings And A Funeral (it was only $14.95... how could I say no?!) on the EFTPOS transaction.

Then when I was getting some of those presents, I found that a Norah Jones single was only $2.95, and I love b-sides... and Neon Ballroom was on special and my copy's kinda worn out (and with N at uni) so... and then Janis was only $14.95, so...

Sigh. I should have all plastic cards taken away from me whenever I go into town. Seriously. At least I avoided buying AtS season 2... that's next week's job (didn't I say that last fortnight?)

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 9:12 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 05, 2003
Okay. It's official. I now have D.I.Y. ulcers from Buffy Defence. I need to stop getting so worked up over this show, because... ow. Of course, in the meantime I've gotten the basic HTML done to do a new layout at the blog (Emily will be so proud of me, because it's a Bad Eggs layout) and for Copper's long-promised website. Procrastination rocks! I'm on a strange Simon & Garfunkle kick at the moment. Huh. I think I have to blame the Grammys. It made me put aside Norah and put in The Sounds of Silence. Who woulda thunk? I forgot to tape BtVS for H last night, so I'm in the dwang today. It was Help, too, and that's meant to be a fairly decent episode, right? Slightly tempted to watch Selfless next week, which will be the first time Joss has really tempted me since the insanity episode (whatever it was called) last season. And not because it was brought up, but for the utter hypocrisy of Xander. It's okay to give Buffy shit for not killing Angel straight away for how many seasons, but the instant it's someone he cares about... This is another reason I refuse to watch the shows anymore. It's not good for my blood pressure. Speaking of blood pressure, I need to get that blasted thing is finished for B.D., ulcers and rising blood pressure aside. So enough procrastination with the HTML and rambling about nothing, I need to finish that essay. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 3:30 PM [x] ::

l Wednesday, March 05, 2003

Okay. It's official. I now have D.I.Y. ulcers from Buffy Defence. I need to stop getting so worked up over this show, because... ow.

Of course, in the meantime I've gotten the basic HTML done to do a new layout at the blog (Emily will be so proud of me, because it's a Bad Eggs layout) and for Copper's long-promised website. Procrastination rocks!

I'm on a strange Simon & Garfunkle kick at the moment. Huh. I think I have to blame the Grammys. It made me put aside Norah and put in The Sounds of Silence. Who woulda thunk?

I forgot to tape BtVS for H last night, so I'm in the dwang today. It was Help, too, and that's meant to be a fairly decent episode, right?

Slightly tempted to watch Selfless next week, which will be the first time Joss has really tempted me since the insanity episode (whatever it was called) last season. And not because it was brought up, but for the utter hypocrisy of Xander. It's okay to give Buffy shit for not killing Angel straight away for how many seasons, but the instant it's someone he cares about...

This is another reason I refuse to watch the shows anymore. It's not good for my blood pressure.

Speaking of blood pressure, I need to get that blasted thing is finished for B.D., ulcers and rising blood pressure aside. So enough procrastination with the HTML and rambling about nothing, I need to finish that essay.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 3:30 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 04, 2003
Something the more observant amoungst us may have noticed is that H gets more use out of my DVDs than I do. This evening, as I read some of the reactions to the latest DB interview (needless to say I didn't go to the main part of the BB), H was watching Somnambulist. And as I watched that, I was busy remembering why AtS season 1 was so good... I'm Buffy's girl. I make no apologies for that, just as I make no apologies for the fact that it was the travesty called AtS season 3 that kept me from watching BtVS season 6. And I'm still not watching either show; I keep the memory of how they were before they jumped the shark, even if the jumped version is better than most hours you can spend in front of the TV. It will take more than just a B/A reunion to make me watch the final episodes of the show, because I felt that The Gift was the perfect ending. It will have to show me a finale for Buffy that is bigger than her doing what all Slayers are required to do, sooner or later -- dying to save the world. You'll have to excuse me here, because I adore The Gift. It's my all-time favourite episode, and no one can ever convince me that it isn't the bookend that the series was meant to finish on. And if anyone dares tell me Buffy was being "selfish", you'll get the essay I'm just finishing writing for Buffy Defence quoted at you. I could gush on about why this was the perfect ending for the series (whether Angel appeared in it or not) for days. But instead I'll say this: the only thing that could make me tune in to see the last episode, whether or not we get some massive B/A affirmation, is if they give us the Fray ending. As much as I hate it, Buffy is the Slayer. She's never going to get that happily ever after, we all know that. One Slayer dies, the next one is called. There's a production line of them coming from the Powers That Be, and sailing off in the moonlight with her Prince Charming is never going to be part of the equation. That's why I love The Gift so much. It was Buffy. She didn't have that which had kept her alive anymore. "The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world... your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies." She didn't have her mother. The Scoobies were busy telling her to kill her little sister; to my mind that counts them out as being any form of support. She was faced with killing Dawn, or dying herself. She chose to die herself. This could turn into a big thing on how heroic she is to my mind. This could turn into another massive defence of Buffy. But I'll just say that it will take an awful lot in my mind to top that. And it has to be bigger than The Gift to get me to tune in again. This all had a point when I started. I can't remember it now, and I'm sure it wasn't that. You'll just have to live with what I wrote, then. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:53 PM [x] ::

l Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Something the more observant amoungst us may have noticed is that H gets more use out of my DVDs than I do.

This evening, as I read some of the reactions to the latest DB interview (needless to say I didn't go to the main part of the BB), H was watching Somnambulist. And as I watched that, I was busy remembering why AtS season 1 was so good...

I'm Buffy's girl. I make no apologies for that, just as I make no apologies for the fact that it was the travesty called AtS season 3 that kept me from watching BtVS season 6. And I'm still not watching either show; I keep the memory of how they were before they jumped the shark, even if the jumped version is better than most hours you can spend in front of the TV.

It will take more than just a B/A reunion to make me watch the final episodes of the show, because I felt that The Gift was the perfect ending. It will have to show me a finale for Buffy that is bigger than her doing what all Slayers are required to do, sooner or later -- dying to save the world.

You'll have to excuse me here, because I adore The Gift. It's my all-time favourite episode, and no one can ever convince me that it isn't the bookend that the series was meant to finish on. And if anyone dares tell me Buffy was being "selfish", you'll get the essay I'm just finishing writing for Buffy Defence quoted at you. I could gush on about why this was the perfect ending for the series (whether Angel appeared in it or not) for days.

But instead I'll say this: the only thing that could make me tune in to see the last episode, whether or not we get some massive B/A affirmation, is if they give us the Fray ending. As much as I hate it, Buffy is the Slayer. She's never going to get that happily ever after, we all know that. One Slayer dies, the next one is called. There's a production line of them coming from the Powers That Be, and sailing off in the moonlight with her Prince Charming is never going to be part of the equation.

That's why I love The Gift so much. It was Buffy. She didn't have that which had kept her alive anymore.

"The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world... your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies."

She didn't have her mother. The Scoobies were busy telling her to kill her little sister; to my mind that counts them out as being any form of support. She was faced with killing Dawn, or dying herself. She chose to die herself.

This could turn into a big thing on how heroic she is to my mind. This could turn into another massive defence of Buffy.

But I'll just say that it will take an awful lot in my mind to top that. And it has to be bigger than The Gift to get me to tune in again.

This all had a point when I started. I can't remember it now, and I'm sure it wasn't that. You'll just have to live with what I wrote, then.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 7:53 PM [x] ::

l
Yesterday afternoon, H was sitting in the living room watching my AtS season 1 DVDs -- Room w/a Vu and Sense and Sensitivity to be exact. As the episode was playing (and as I was complaining that I miss Kate to everyone I was chatting with... they could at least have given an explanation of where she went, y'know? And it's not like there was ever actually anything between her and Angel...), my mother comments that they really must have made Kate as a form of Buffy-replacement. I said something about how they did, how she and Angel were meant to have some form of sparkage but hello, the whole reason he left Sunnydale was because he couldn't be with a human. Then my father, bless his soul, said, "if they were going to put him with a human, you'd think they'd pair him up with Cordy." I kid you not. My father said this. As my mother was going "shhhhhhhh!! Don't say that!!" and waving her arms in the air to get him to shut up. My mother knows you don't say something like that in front of me. Dad hasn't quite gotten the point yet, although I think after I finished telling him how incestuous the idea is and cursing the day David Greenwalt was born, he'd received some idea that this is not a topic you raise in front of me (you'd think he'd have learnt after all the times at the dinner table when he started a conversation about Buffy and Spike from the episode H had in the DVD player as we ate, but he's male. These things take time to sink in). "Sorry I asked..." he says. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:59 PM [x] ::

Yesterday afternoon, H was sitting in the living room watching my AtS season 1 DVDs -- Room w/a Vu and Sense and Sensitivity to be exact.

As the episode was playing (and as I was complaining that I miss Kate to everyone I was chatting with... they could at least have given an explanation of where she went, y'know? And it's not like there was ever actually anything between her and Angel...), my mother comments that they really must have made Kate as a form of Buffy-replacement. I said something about how they did, how she and Angel were meant to have some form of sparkage but hello, the whole reason he left Sunnydale was because he couldn't be with a human.

Then my father, bless his soul, said, "if they were going to put him with a human, you'd think they'd pair him up with Cordy."

I kid you not. My father said this. As my mother was going "shhhhhhhh!! Don't say that!!" and waving her arms in the air to get him to shut up.

My mother knows you don't say something like that in front of me. Dad hasn't quite gotten the point yet, although I think after I finished telling him how incestuous the idea is and cursing the day David Greenwalt was born, he'd received some idea that this is not a topic you raise in front of me (you'd think he'd have learnt after all the times at the dinner table when he started a conversation about Buffy and Spike from the episode H had in the DVD player as we ate, but he's male. These things take time to sink in).

"Sorry I asked..." he says.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 5:59 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 03, 2003
I don't know why, but at the moment I've been thinking about desserts, and trifle in particular. Have I ever talked about my great-grandmother's trifle? I hope everyone knows what trifle is -- it's a desert, with a layer of cake on the bottom, then a layer of custard and a layer of jelly and cream. Sometimes there's a layer of tinned/stewed fruit in there, too. I can never eat it. My great-grandmother was a teetotaller, and very dedicated. She declared until she died at 92 at the start of 1999 that alcohol had "never passed" her lips. The glass of brandy she drank every night for "medicinal purposes" never counted, of course, and she never knew what the "green cordial" (Miduri) was that she insisted on trying when she saw my grandmother and aunt drinking it. But when she made her trifle, she would soak the cake in sherry. This never counted, either, because the alcohol was "cooked out of it". If you don't get the joke yet, let me just say that trifle is served cold. She would soak the cake in sherry, put in the custard, layer the jelly and cream and put it in the fridge. Somewhere in there, the sherry somehow managed to be cooked out of it. I swear, one piece of that trifle would make you unable to drive home. :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:07 PM [x] ::

l Monday, March 03, 2003

I don't know why, but at the moment I've been thinking about desserts, and trifle in particular.

Have I ever talked about my great-grandmother's trifle? I hope everyone knows what trifle is -- it's a desert, with a layer of cake on the bottom, then a layer of custard and a layer of jelly and cream. Sometimes there's a layer of tinned/stewed fruit in there, too.

I can never eat it.

My great-grandmother was a teetotaller, and very dedicated. She declared until she died at 92 at the start of 1999 that alcohol had "never passed" her lips. The glass of brandy she drank every night for "medicinal purposes" never counted, of course, and she never knew what the "green cordial" (Miduri) was that she insisted on trying when she saw my grandmother and aunt drinking it.

But when she made her trifle, she would soak the cake in sherry. This never counted, either, because the alcohol was "cooked out of it".

If you don't get the joke yet, let me just say that trifle is served cold. She would soak the cake in sherry, put in the custard, layer the jelly and cream and put it in the fridge. Somewhere in there, the sherry somehow managed to be cooked out of it.

I swear, one piece of that trifle would make you unable to drive home.

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 2:07 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 02, 2003
Okay, if you've ever entertained a slashy thought in your life, head on over to Red Panda's place and look at the slashy pics of Viggo and Karl. But the main thing you have to see is Dom and Billy's reaction to a manip. I'm still wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. editing to add, because it's all from Red Panda's LJ Followed a link to here where I found the following comments -- it's an interview with Sean Astin: When asked, in a roundabout way, about the, ahem, relationship between Frodo and Sam (with specific reference to comments made on the subject by Sir Ian McKellen), Sean said, "Tolkien rocks." He said that Tolkien's description of the love bond between the two male hobbits is very powerful. He was very committed to the qualities he saw in Sam: loyalty, honesty, faithfulness. But he didn't personally think that the relationship amounted anything sexual, although he said that if Sir Ian wanted to think that, "far be it for [him] to burst his bubble." He mentioned that Sir Ian was the one who pointed out that in the original text, it describes Sam stroking Frodo's hand in Rivendell when he awakes, and Sean played it in the scene because he wanted to be true to story. The last questioner managed to squeeze in an inquiry about, of all things, the Very Secret Diaries. Everyone, including Sean, laughed. He said he has, indeed, read them. He said, "yeah, they're all about how cute Orlando is. How beautiful Elijah's eyes are." But he said that LOTR producer Mark Ordesky told him once, "If you want your man true, then you want Sam." That brought down the house. He's read The Very Secret Diaries!! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:58 PM [x] ::

l Sunday, March 02, 2003

Okay, if you've ever entertained a slashy thought in your life, head on over to Red Panda's place and look at the slashy pics of Viggo and Karl. But the main thing you have to see is Dom and Billy's reaction to a manip. I'm still wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.

editing to add, because it's all from Red Panda's LJ

Followed a link to here where I found the following comments -- it's an interview with Sean Astin:

When asked, in a roundabout way, about the, ahem, relationship between Frodo and Sam (with specific reference to comments made on the subject by Sir Ian McKellen), Sean said, "Tolkien rocks." He said that Tolkien's description of the love bond between the two male hobbits is very powerful. He was very committed to the qualities he saw in Sam: loyalty, honesty, faithfulness. But he didn't personally think that the relationship amounted anything sexual, although he said that if Sir Ian wanted to think that, "far be it for [him] to burst his bubble." He mentioned that Sir Ian was the one who pointed out that in the original text, it describes Sam stroking Frodo's hand in Rivendell when he awakes, and Sean played it in the scene because he wanted to be true to story.

The last questioner managed to squeeze in an inquiry about, of all things, the Very Secret Diaries. Everyone, including Sean, laughed. He said he has, indeed, read them. He said, "yeah, they're all about how cute Orlando is. How beautiful Elijah's eyes are." But he said that LOTR producer Mark Ordesky told him once, "If you want your man true, then you want Sam." That brought down the house.

He's read The Very Secret Diaries!! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

:: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 8:58 PM [x] ::

l
Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! New favourite website: John Howard's Blog (authenticity may be questionable) Should be online for catch-up and update tomorrow... and for the record, Jen, MISS YOU, TOO!!!! Also with the Groupie-missage, but she knows that anyway ;) :: Smurfette blogged for peace @ 6:15 PM [x] ::