Field of Daize’s

I woke up today in an ungodly hour, feeling wretched. Then on the Sunday program on Channel nine, there was a lovely piece on Martin Luther King. It had excerpts from the “I have a dream” speech. I was surprised to find myself shedding a tear during it. Of course, I first heard it when I was a lot younger, and it had a massive impact on me. I find it pleasingly unusual that it should still have the same power.
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Last night I spend a marvelous evening at the house of KT, cooking, drinking and generally talking bollocks with dear company. I was just so tired when I got there, and all of a sudden, when I started to chop stuff up, I suddenly awaked.
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Black snot.

Anyone who has worked shovelling dirt will know exactly what i’m talking about. As though it wasn’t enough that every piece of clothing you are wearing (including clothing that has yet to see the light of day) get’s covered in a film of soily crap, the soil starts to run into your nostrils, creating a most unseemly of mucus.
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There has been so much going on lately, that I feel guilty for not having documented it in my diary. I guess this is one of the pitfalls of having a regular diary you write in. For some reason, I’m stepping into the trap of thinking that nothing in my life happens till it has been recorded in this log, and been commented on by the handfull of readers I have.
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So I check my email today, and there is a bizzilion new messages. And some of the most clever spam ever. There was a couple of messages that I just had to open, becuase the subject heading read “You rule!”. This spam KNOWS that if it fans my ego, it will get opened.
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People from dodgy towns always wait for the pedestrian light to go green. This is an immutable fact, and trying to desuade them from anything else would take extreme devine intervention. I observed this curio after a visit to my home-town (in the most technical of defintions) of Gosford, in the Central Coast. While travesing through what is called the “city” district, I reached an intersection in a two way street. A clearly marked pedestrian crossing was there, clicking in a steady metronomic pace. I waited for all cars to stop coming, and then crossed the road. Supposing that the other people there would follow me, I was shocked to see that no one moved. At all. It wasn’t till I was about ten meters from the crossing that they all moved like lemmings from one side to the other.
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Allways, I’ve been told that I can amount to something, and that I have potentials in so many different things. That is a fairly good observation, though it is one that is fairly shallow. The question really is, HOW is it that I’ve come to have these different potentials to do anything? How have I become the person that I am now?
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I’ve recently had trouble getting into my website to make an entry, and a fair bit has happened since my last entry. In fact, I scarce know where to start. With so much choice, perhaps it would be best to start with the most trivial thing. I was frequenting the sanitary installations at uni, and I happened accross some unusual graffiti. It read “Valdemort is 1337!”. For those who aren’t familiar, “1337″ is a rediculously geeky way of writing stuff, which substitutes letters with numbers. The word 1337 really reads “leet”, which in turn is slang for “elite”. For some reason, the pairing of 1337 with Valdemort seems so incredibly right to me.
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Last night I did something that most of my dear readers will find insane : I went to the taping of “Australia’s Funniest Home Videos”. Before the sniggers and insinuations start, let me tell you that though it was a little long (ie, it started at 7:00 and it finished at 11:00), I had a surprisingly good time.
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The perils of living with all your family all at once : only one bathroom. I’m sitting here trying against all might not to urinate in my own trackie dacks. Now, that last statement is probably more embarrasing from the admition that I own a pair of tracksuit pants (the ultimate tool of Satan), but if the whole sentence offends you this morning (eve?), then I appologise.
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I’m certain there are a bizillion things that I should have written between this and my last entry. The only thing I will mention is that I had dinner with Jimmy the other night, and it was totally awsome, for so many reasons.
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