dee - viscerate.com

GIRL
Diana Evans
called Dee
since May 25th, 1980
terrorising inner-city Melbourne
consuming flat whites
producing words, hers and other people's
contact dee [at] viscerate [dot] com

SITE
viscerate.com
consisting of personal reflections
photography by Amy Q
archives here

Saturday, November 18, 2000

Geugh! I HATE cockroaches. (This is me shuddering.)

Incidentally, did I mention that I found out too late that my character for J2's Werewolf RP has a cockroach as her tribe totem? Honestly, I think this was a setup. If J2 puts any situation in where my character has to schmooze up to the horrible little things, I'm going to rearrange his vital organs. Something artistic with cheese, I think.

For some reason I keep wanting to spell cheese with a z. Begone, foul hacker-speak!

11:37 PM - link to this - (0) comments

A's parents are pleasant people.

I went up to the botanical gardens (or, as Kr calls them, the tobanical gardens) this afternoon with a friend who desperately needs her life untangled. Unfortunately, I am not the one to do this, as I don't even officially know her life needs untangling. We just don't have that sort of relationship, unfortunately. In any case, we got talking about weddings, and our plans for them. I have very few. I want to get married in a dress that will be able to be worn at further occasions in my life. My mother was married to my father in a red dress that she still wears out to dinner. Mind you, it was the second marriage for both of them. Neither really took it seriously. The process that was. The vows themselves were very serious.

Back to the point. Which I did have. Really. I wanted it (my wedding) not to be in a church, unless the groom had strident views. I would feel hypocritical getting married in a church, what with my views of Christianity and all. I wanted it to be relatively small - those I loved best. I wanted my father to still be alive so that he could give me away, but more so that he could make the father of the bride speech at the reception. My father lives for giving speeches. I want so much for him to make this one. Those of you who know my age (20) would wonder how this could be a danger. Well, dear darling Dad turned 70 this year, and though he doesn't look it, or act it, he still is it. Though everyone declares me Mother's Little Girl, I know the truth. I'm my father's daughter.

Anyway, as I was discussing these matrimonial matters, I was thinking of A. Am I suddenly getting clucky? Honestly. I have no desire to get married. At the same time, I have no thought of anyone but him as my life partner. We fit together so well. But still...

Dot, dot, dot.

His parents are nice people. Did I mention that? We had dinner this evening. A long, rambling dinner with good wines and excellent food on large plates. Turkish coffee. Mmmmm... turkish coffee...

These entries are getting long and infrequent. DOUG forbid this should turn into a journal.

11:26 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Friday, November 17, 2000

What a welter of emotions swirls within me. I have been browsing writing sites, both newly discovered and those cherished in my "Writing Stuff" favourites folder. I have discovered a few things.
1: I may be a good writer - I think I am - but there are people out there who have been published.
2: Unless I sit down and actually start writing every day, I'm never going to become a really good writer. Remember, Diana, you became a good writer after years of practice. You've plateaued (what the hell???) and you're going nowhere. Change that.
3: There are so many aspiring fantasy authors out there.
4: This would discourage me, if it weren't for the fact that most of them are crap. Return to point 1.

10:26 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, November 15, 2000

Well lookie here, it's a redesign. That lovely lady is Gong Li. I messed with her a bit, but she still looks cool. She's an excellent actress, and if you haven't seen Raise the Red Lantern, you should. Immediately. Move! I suppose, failing that, you could see The Emperor and the Assassin. She was very good in that as well, but it's not quite as good a movie as Red Lantern.

Anyway, this probably isn't very 640x480 friendly, but I imagine it's better than the last one. I like it. You should do. Let me know, in either case. I'm perpetually, incurably and probably, eventually, fatally curious.

3:18 PM - link to this - (0) comments

We talked to the nice chap who's in charge of these tutorly placement things. I am feeling somewhat better about the whole situation. I still doubt that they will be perfectly happy with both of us on 3B, but we did our best to explain that the problem isn't nearly as pronounced as they seem to think, and in fact we think we would do our best job on 3B. Now I just hope that we've managed to convince him, and he can manage to convince the others. Please let me stay up here. Life would be so much easier and more enjoyable if I did.

It's not that I don't want to work with any of the other tutors, let me state right here. It's that I don't want to move off 3B. And J1 feels the same way. So it seems to work out. I can't think of anyone else who would want to be on 3B anyway, so what's the problem?

Anyway, more interesting things to come soon, I promise.

12:20 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Tuesday, November 14, 2000

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Angst, fear, panic. So, I told you that I was made a college tutor (it's like an RA). I told you about my fears that they would move me off my floor. Well the bastards want to do it. They don't want both me and J1 tutoring on 3B. I guess I can vaguely see the point they might have, but they're wrong, dammit. And fascist and horrible and fuck this.

Now we just have to figure out how to talk them into letting us do it anyway. War meeting at high noon. Film at 11.

8:23 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Monday, November 13, 2000

I only have two dreams these days.
#1: The Rollercoaster Tycoon dream. My rollercoasters are always pure forms of excellent design, being laid down section by section in a neverending unravelling of steel and wood. There are never trees in the way, and the landscape always conforms perfectly to my image. Or maybe it is merely that my brilliance allows me to meld my construction to its curves like velvet hotpants to a buttock. Now there's a mental image.
#2: The Werewolf: the Apocalypse dream. This is a more abstract one, filled with numbers and sigils, wisps of mist and feelings of fur. Concepts walk the darkness as if they were real, and in a sense they are. I never remember the details on waking. Probably because they were not there to begin with.

From this, it can rightly be deduced that these two activities have been taking the majority of my time and attention for the last little while. J2 wants to run the werewolf roleplay over the holidays. Various folk are interested, and you know me; I'm always up for some RP, especially with people who know what they're doing and who I know are sensible. For those in the know about such things, I am going to be a Homid Glass Walker Ahroun. For those not in the know, my character's going to be a spoilt little rich bitch with a fetish for technology and a really bad temper. She is going to be very fun to play, I anticipate. The rest of the party might not like her very much, though.

As for Rollercoaster Tycoon, well, I had a lapse of concentration, and it slipped in under my "no computer games apart from Carmageddon" barrier. It's fun. It's silly. It's amusing when the little guys puke. And drowning Entertainers is my new hobby. A mime is a terrible thing to waste. (3 points, and my respect.)

9:49 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, November 12, 2000

So, inquiring minds want to know? Well, even if they don't, they're going to get told.

Friday, having nothing better to do, I trekked the three-hour walk out to see a hungover A and his equally befuddled housemates. I arrived at one, figuring that was the bare minimum required to allow them to be up and dressed and mildly coherent. I may have been a little ambitious, but they were at least up and dressed. I watched them clean for a little bit. The grill looked very worse for wear. A packed his overnight bag, and I took it and scabbed a lift back to college with one of his housemates. He drove all the way with the window down and his hand stretched out. A good few times I thought a passing car was going to take it clean off. He is a little addled, but in that cute, cuddly way.

Those used to reading mystery novels may have noticed that subtle clue I dropped there (taps side of nose with a knowing wink). Yes, A needed an overnight bag. As a combination belated birthday present and post-finishing relaxation, I had made arrangements for us to spend Friday night at the Hyatt, undeniably the most luxurious hotel in Canberra (don't anyone dare deny it, you'll make me cry, so there). And get your minds out of the gutter. What sort of girl do you think I am? (Pause) That sort?? Get out of my room!

Anyway, the hotel was exquisite. Gorgeous bathroom. You know chicks always love bathrooms, right? Especially ones they don't have to clean. We played with all the facilities like the immature university students we are. I especially liked the phone beside the toilet. The whole hotel has a nostalgic theme, specifically 1920s. The staff are dressed accordingly, and it's such a wonderful atmosphere. We revelled, we luxuriated, we did other suitably over-the-top adjectival verbs. We even got the newspaper all to ourselves without having to fight anyone for the best bits. Now this, my friends, is luxury.

I recommend everyone treat themselves. Do it for me. Then write to me, and tell me about it.

9:29 PM - link to this - (0) comments

The silence is deafening...

8:53 PM - link to this - (0) comments