Post Fragments

I wasn’t planning on writing a new post until next week, and then I realised, I don’t have to, I have one ready and waiting. Although admittedly, it is a pretty lazy post filled with other barely written posts that have been lying around for months (unedited, sorry). As Scummy suggested I seem to be going through a (blog) identity crisis- so this post can be both evidence of the fact I can’t decide what to write about (or how to present myself…?? I dunno- I just write whatever I feel like at the time- does this approach actually have a unifying vision/tone for any of you?? In fact, why the hell are you visiting me at all? I WANNA KNOW) and also tide you over while I work it out with booze.

1) Exploding Brain Cells (April 07)

Have been out of mind busy with work and uni, but I still gave up a couple of hours of much needed sleep this weekend in favour of catching up with some “important” stuff, such as checking out all the shows on style.com for fall/winter last month that I’d missed. I love that crap, but sometimes I think it is aiding in the rapid degeneration of my brain.

For example this quote from the hair stylist for the Chloe show explaining why they decided to expose ears (through long hair left undone):

“This [new Chloe girl], since she’s a little on the rebellious side, she wants to go against what’s normal, so- we’re showing ears”.

I’ve lost so many IQ points trying to decipher the logic of that statement, I have no idea what to say- help me out here.

2) Ode to Uni (March 07)

I will definitely not miss:

-the shiteous and limited subject choices this year and presumably from now on, (”Growing Esteem” my arse- get fucked), which mind bogglingly still continue to be cancelled

-never being able to get the book/journal I need from the Bailleu at a critical time when the catalogue says it is a available and damn it, it is not on a holding shelf you bastards

-the constant guilt of not having done enough work

3) Books (Oct 06) NB: I have no idea what I was waffling about here.

…not for any perceived pretention, because I’m nothing if not pretentious (let’s be honest), but because, no matter how beautiful or well constructed a phrase/image/whatever- presenting literariness is to betray the mechanics behind its construction. Specifically literariness implies a level of well honed tradition- be it style, whatever- and the kind that I’m referring to, almost staunchly refuses self reflexivity except to the tradition to which it refers. Maybe I mean modernist impulse???????????? ???

4) Salad Days (Dec 06)

… that Kate Moss felt the need to ask Alexander Mcqueen if he wore a butt plug and has ultimately resulted in my reaquaintance with the term ’salad days’.

5) Pregnant Sisters (Dec 06)

… spending time being shuffled back and forth between pregant sisters. This is not in fact a time of joy, as you’d imagine- but a rather a stress filled time where I have had to listen to daily moanings about people being nauseous, headachy, stressed, paranoid, tired from already looking after one child and juggling a job, illness etc.

What I’ve learned: being pregnant is hard people- and there are times I feel as if their pregnant hormones have infected my body, making me similarly naseous and headachy. I’ve also had to endure the most disgusting, gut wrenching descriptions of labour from one sister in such detail that at times I would honestly like to hurt her- she feels informing me of her epidural free labour (not by choice- note to pregnant women: check your hospital has a 24hr anesthetician) is helpful- as if being told the mechanics of labour will make me more prepared to pass a child the size of a melon through a hole the size of a fifty cent coin. I call it: upping the chances I am never going to pop a child out of my body.

Several months on and I have learned that Sister N and husband have a rule that they must never impart details of the birthing process to any woman who has never given birth (thank-you, some sanity)- unfortunately Sister S has made that decision redundant in my case, given not only have I heard FAR too many recountings of her first labour, but I was also present for every single disgusting, scream-filled moment of her second (in January this year, OH.MY.GOD).

To my girlfriends: please don’t get pregnant any time soon and regale me with awful pregnancy/labour stories. Thank-you.

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