Saturday, May 06, 2006
Backbench Politics
I. am. a. turkey.
Greetings and salutations, judges and overseers of my life!
Actually, life is happy and beautiful at the moment.
Aside from the brain overload. I am walking intertextuality, and it's painful. I can't focus on one thought or be my usual potato, non-participatory self.. The head itches with spiralling wisdom and connections and parallels, and then I just laugh to myself because walking in Bondi at night and coughing up my last good kidney reminds me of... Well, many a thing.
The title of this post is in reference to my drama major work script (yes I can't let a post go by without mentioning the painfulness which is called 'school')... That's the name I have been using. I thought it was witty, and I liked it. But it has nothing to do with politics. Well, perhaps the politics of life. Crazy (politically incorrect) characters meet on a parkbench. Bob, Jess and I are performing a bit of it for Festivale (prefect organised student performance night jazzo).. The ending we've decided for it (we need an ending for this excerpt) is that the fired!Jenkins turns out to be oldbutnot!Grandma's long lost son, she nearly has a heart attack, homeless!Smith is left on stage and.. goes back to sleep? I'll have to go get the notes I made.. I think it shall be quite hilarious, and for those who remember those Proposal days (only last year's dancing), you'll know that we can make quite a trio. We're looking forward to it. And it's great, because I'm supposed to workshop my script a few times..
Last night I saw a yay! King Lear in the style of Feudal Japan (thus the Bondi at night-ing).. Nice and wacky. With my analysing/intertextuality brain overload, and extreme tiredness, I was worried about not being able to enjoy it.. I managed to watch it from the POV of a drama gal, not an english student.. so all was well. Though I was twitching at not knowing the symbolism of the white material over-hanging...
Ok, still twitching *pokes eyebrow*.. And the coffee did nothing for me last night. The first Gloria Jeans I had back in Australia made my hands shake delightfully, but perhaps I was just too overwhelmingly tired last night. And I was feeling a little ill and headached (I've taken drugs every day for the past few days >.<) but International Roast and afternoon sunlight seem to pair off together wonderfully. Maybe because they're both just so terrible! :D
Oh my. Do you see the pattern, do you? All I talk about is school *shudders and then glances over to ancient history homework* and coffee.. I crave an Irish Creme.. And Gloria Jeans had a special of the week - Emerald Dream beans.. Which is basically irish creme.. oh, delicious mouth-watering fake alcoholic goodness! (I have not yet done something 18-ish) But as I don't have a coffee grinder, buying beans would be a little silly. Unless they were magic beans. I wish I had a cow.
*hits head* See - walking painful intertextuality overload! The most painful thing is, I think, that no one else is operating on the the same waves, so I walk around mumbling to myself and then hitting my head (hoping I can erase enough brain cells) and glad+sad no one else can understand.. Oh, I wouln't wish this on anybody.
And why am I a turkey? Because I forgot to collect my extension 2 journal/logbook from teacher straight after school.. Making the assessment on Monday near-impossible. I got called a turkey. I have now learned to always turn back.
*skips away and then falls flat on her face* ¶ 2:50 PM
Greetings and salutations, judges and overseers of my life!
Actually, life is happy and beautiful at the moment.
Aside from the brain overload. I am walking intertextuality, and it's painful. I can't focus on one thought or be my usual potato, non-participatory self.. The head itches with spiralling wisdom and connections and parallels, and then I just laugh to myself because walking in Bondi at night and coughing up my last good kidney reminds me of... Well, many a thing.
The title of this post is in reference to my drama major work script (yes I can't let a post go by without mentioning the painfulness which is called 'school')... That's the name I have been using. I thought it was witty, and I liked it. But it has nothing to do with politics. Well, perhaps the politics of life. Crazy (politically incorrect) characters meet on a parkbench. Bob, Jess and I are performing a bit of it for Festivale (prefect organised student performance night jazzo).. The ending we've decided for it (we need an ending for this excerpt) is that the fired!Jenkins turns out to be oldbutnot!Grandma's long lost son, she nearly has a heart attack, homeless!Smith is left on stage and.. goes back to sleep? I'll have to go get the notes I made.. I think it shall be quite hilarious, and for those who remember those Proposal days (only last year's dancing), you'll know that we can make quite a trio. We're looking forward to it. And it's great, because I'm supposed to workshop my script a few times..
Last night I saw a yay! King Lear in the style of Feudal Japan (thus the Bondi at night-ing).. Nice and wacky. With my analysing/intertextuality brain overload, and extreme tiredness, I was worried about not being able to enjoy it.. I managed to watch it from the POV of a drama gal, not an english student.. so all was well. Though I was twitching at not knowing the symbolism of the white material over-hanging...
Ok, still twitching *pokes eyebrow*.. And the coffee did nothing for me last night. The first Gloria Jeans I had back in Australia made my hands shake delightfully, but perhaps I was just too overwhelmingly tired last night. And I was feeling a little ill and headached (I've taken drugs every day for the past few days >.<) but International Roast and afternoon sunlight seem to pair off together wonderfully. Maybe because they're both just so terrible! :D
Oh my. Do you see the pattern, do you? All I talk about is school *shudders and then glances over to ancient history homework* and coffee.. I crave an Irish Creme.. And Gloria Jeans had a special of the week - Emerald Dream beans.. Which is basically irish creme.. oh, delicious mouth-watering fake alcoholic goodness! (I have not yet done something 18-ish) But as I don't have a coffee grinder, buying beans would be a little silly. Unless they were magic beans. I wish I had a cow.
*hits head* See - walking painful intertextuality overload! The most painful thing is, I think, that no one else is operating on the the same waves, so I walk around mumbling to myself and then hitting my head (hoping I can erase enough brain cells) and glad+sad no one else can understand.. Oh, I wouln't wish this on anybody.
And why am I a turkey? Because I forgot to collect my extension 2 journal/logbook from teacher straight after school.. Making the assessment on Monday near-impossible. I got called a turkey. I have now learned to always turn back.
*skips away and then falls flat on her face* ¶ 2:50 PM
