wark!
Now, awesome dinosaur comics aside, let's talk about the fact that I'm a complete dork.
"But Jase, your impeccable fashion sense, your dreamy hair, the way you flounder around when someone asks you a question about cars or sports, these are the hallmarks of the quintessential coo guy!".
I know, I know. However, every man has one, dorky embarassing side to him, and I am no exception. There are two things to which I am partial to. Firstly, 'cool stuff', a broad category for which everything that is cool, yet has no definable purpose, or merely a cool gimmick, fall under this heading. Weird gizmos, objects or cool promotional merchandising are an example (such as here). The other is stuffed toys. Teddy bears, rabbits, dogs, etc. While I don't go out of my way for them, I can never resist picking up a cute teddy bear in passing.
Now, disregarding the troubled psychology of this fixation,it is when these two weaknesses combine together that I literally squeal like a schoolgirl, my hands clapping with delight. Such was the case when Shaun returned from his trip in Japan with something that only photos can do justice:
Yes, thats right: It's a chocobo. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee wark! Its prmototional merchandising for the game in the aforementioned link, and man is it awesome. Dorky undoubtedly, but when you have a chocobo this awesome you don't have to care what people think.
Anyway, the reason why I brought this up is because I preordered the last Harry Potter book today. How does that relate to the topic at hand? Here's why. That's right, a plush owl. Squeeeeeeeeeee- you get the idea. Borders Perth isn't just a place where book snobs like me can drink Gloria Jeans coffee which they charge 4 dollars a pop yet serve it to you in a paper cup, while agreeing about how The Da Vinci Code is a terrible novel with awkward dialogue and hackneyed narrative structure. It's now a place that gives you a plush owl for ordering a book about wizards and magic.
Perhaps I should look into that wizards costume for the book launch?
ATTN FRIENDS
It was JESS DEAN of ROSSMOYNE who led me to Regina Spektor, I am but a mere coathanger in her wardrobe of impeccable musical delights.
Sincerely,
MANAGEMENT
consequence of sounds
"Mom, how would you rate your honey chicken?" I asked at dinner tonight.
"Not bad" she responded. "Somewhere around seven".
"I think you're an amazing cook" I declared loyally, knowing that even as I spoke those words, silent alarm bells were no doubt ringing in her head. I was right.
"What do you want?" she accused me, her eyes narrowing slightly even as she couldn't help but be slightly flattered at the rare compliment. I think my mom is amazing. I just never tell her that. It keeps her expectations from me as a son reliably low.
"Well...I want you to teach me how to cook".
"What for? You've never shown an interest before".
I laughed. "Isn't it obvious? It's about a girl".
She looked a bit surprised. She was either surprised I was being so candid, or perhaps surprised that I wasn't in fact a homosexual. "A girl? who is it? Why? "
"It doesn't matter - will you teach me or not?"
She gave me an amused look.
"It's for love mom". I thought it'd sway her.
She laughed. "You're a man, you don't believe in love".
I just grinned at her, "Lust, love, you know what I mean".
I've been busy with work, but I won't bore you with that. It is however a poor excuse for why I haven't been updating. Often the last thing you want to do when working all day is to sit down in front of the computer and try to think of somehing witty to say. I used all my wit during the day, though those relatively rested in witticisms could wryly liken that to a satchet of butter over a large loaf of bread.
So I've built up this reputation at work for being the office comedian, without actually realising it. I guess I pulled off a great performance in that company workshop a few weeks ago. Either way, the flattery directed my way has no doubt inflated my ego and made myself believe I'm more hilarious than I actually am. I've been trying to be careful - often professionalism and my desire to make people laugh are mututally exclusive, but I think I've struck the right balance. At any rate, it makes doing my job easier if people inexplicably find me likeable - though making friends is its own reward.
Still, I can't quite shake the feeling I'm still coasting through life, still waiting for something. Going to work feels like going to uni (when I did that is), going to high school, going to primary school. It feels like I'm just sitting around waiting for the next phase of my life to start. That just feels wrong somehow. We're in the big bad world now, the rest of our life so to speak, yet it feels like it hasn't started. Maybe I'm finally discovering a fundamental part of life - that this is it, that there's really never been phases in life, we just make it up as we go along. And that if you sit around all your life waiting for something to happen, you'll miss out on all the good things happening in the meantime.
That probably explains my widespread dissatisfaction with things the way they are at the moment, in terms of my personal life. My heart was telling me things my brain chose to ignore. But I'm getting out more, branching out. Someitmes you come to the realisation that you have to do some things yourself, and that the path you walk sometimes means it takes you away from others that used to tread the same path.
I've told many people this many times, but sooner or later I'll have to do it. Leave Perth. Find a new shore to call home. I can't stay in Perth forever...
I think I like Regina Spektor...but I'm not so sure. She's making train sounds as I type this. Still, I love Fidelity and Samson, from her latest album Begin to Hope, which the more I listen to, the more I like. Fidelity is the featured song for this week, found in the usual place, music player on the right. Enjoy!
oh venus where art thou
I walk out of the office, pushing through the throng of people while I head to find something to eat, my head down, lost in thought. A girl walks past, bumping into me as I distractedly apologise, still immersed in my own problems. I walk a few paces and stop with a start. I quickly turn around and look at the retreating back. It's Her.
Is it Her? I think its Her. The fashion, the hair, the way she walks. The familiar corner of her mouth upturned in a perpetual smile. I start following her, picking up speed as I become more convinced it's her. People shoot me dirty glances as I push past them, desperately trying to gain ground. Did she see me? Did she recognise me? Am I going out of my mind? I fight a losing battle with the stream of humanity that empties out into the shops and arcades of Forest Chase. She turns a corner of the bridge and heads into David Jones. In desperation, I call out her name. She doesn't hear me, or she chooses to ignore me. She keeps walking. I redouble my efforts to catch up, uncaring of the looks of indignation that cross people's face as I claw past them. I run into David Jones and come to a sudden stop. The walkway splits into two forks. I quickly scan around, but I don't see her. I curse bitterly.
In the end, I wander around for 10 minutes, trying to catch a glimpse of an angel from a distant memory, but my efforts are to no avail. I dejectedly return to the office, my hunger gone, the bitter taste of a hope lit and quenched swirling in my mouth, haunted by memories of what was, and dreams of what could have been.
With heavy heart I now go to bed, knowing beyond all certainty that my dreams tonight will be full of her . Goodnight.
