O me, o me, o me! I heart W.W.

O me! O life!

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;

Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;

Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;

Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?



Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.


Walt Whitman

I'm sick of...

... being sick! I got a really bad cold about three days into the school holidays, and have felt gross ever since. So I went back to work last week, and had so much on, that my cold just got worse and worse.

When I was talking to the other girls, we came to the conclusion that in our jobs, we just have to accept that we'll be sick pretty much the whole time from between about April/May to early November. The abominably early mornings, the straining our voices constantly above the din of classroom chatter, the sniffles, coughs and sneezes all over us as snotty kids try and tell us they need more time on their essay, they need to go to sick bay, can they go to the toilet please?, Miss -- can you sign this note etc etc.

I fall into exhaustion from all the caring, caring, caring, listening to 29 whining voices, only to be told by the bell after 45 minutes that I have to move onto the next 29 strains of colds and flu and high-pitched voices.

It is absolutely, definitely categorically time for career #2. Or just another job. I said to Josh last night, "maybe I'll have a baby, and not have to work.' That was met with a fairly determined 'no'.

So the hunt is on. The question now is... for what??

The Challenge

Mi amiga Lisa has presented me with this challenge (cos someone presented her with it):

List five things that certain people (who are not deserving of being your friend anyway) may consider to be 'totally lame,' but you are, despite the possible stigma, totally proud of. Own it. Tag five others.

It's kind of hard, but I'll do my best. And like Lisa mentioned, I'm not sure I'm proud of them, but I guess they are things that I think are pretty cool or at least completely acceptable.

1. I always listen to my iPod/mp3 player and pretend I'm on Australian Idol.

It's true. And I don't just imagine I'm on the show, I actually imagine my outfit (black vinyl bodysuit ala Britney Spears Oops!... I Did It Again for when I do Thriller by Michael Jackson), hairstyle (will probably need hair extensions for the ones I want), the genre of the week (playing an instrument - Alive by Pearl Jam) and the judges' comments (Dicko: "Every week you amaze me... you just know how to rock out.")

I don't even watch Australian Idol!

2. I'm fanatical about etymology.

I'm prone to giving people enlightening, exciting lectures about the origins of the English language, and I analyse words to see what links they have to ye olde English, German, French, Gaellic etc. Unfortunately most people are ingrates who take our language for granted and poo-poo my hordes of knowledge on the topic.

3. I get stressed out really easily, especially when it comes to Cuba and what will happen when Fidel Castro (viva Fidel!) passes away.

I couldn't sleep the night he had that operation last year. What am I worried about? I guess I hate to see everything he stood for torn apart by US occupation. Who wouldn't be worried!!

4. I want to be everything and therefore am totally non-committal to any kind of career.

You name it - a law degree? Hell yes, I'll do that! Beauty therapy? I'm looking into it my friend! Acting - I'm organising my portfolio as we speak! Farmer? The simple life is what I want! Writer? I've started three novels and a screenplay! A fairy at childrens' birthday parties? I'm the girl!

Never ask me for a long term(or short term for that matter) plan cos I got nothin' and everything! In fact I've made a career out of dreaming!

5. I still sleep with Snuggles, my teddy of 22 years. And he has a small wooden doll inside him that seems to have once been a part of a babushka set that is drawn as a British knight, called Arthur (see photos).

Snuggles is from a line of toys that I believe is now defunct called 'Glow Worms'. I took out Snuggles' glow stick thing years ago and mum stuffed him with some material. Upon finding Arthur on the floor of my mum's shop in about 1991, I put Arthur inside Snuggle's tummy, where he rests on a red woollen bed. Weird? I think not. Innovative? Absolutely!