Trysting Fields

HNY, MOTHERFUCKERS

It's on.

!!! \O/ !!!

Occupy McFarland St Treehouse aka Sarah's Housewarming

Friday, 2nd December.

Fifth Of November

Stuff I Did This Year

My 2010 started on a high. Life was good and all the stars were aligned, etc. Unfortunately the wheels started to come off in the second quarter and the second half was an increasingly shitful and regressive abortion.

So it goes. We'll do this as many times as we have to.

Amongst other things (hosting some fairly awesome dinner parties, etc) I:

• Went to Thailand;
• Started studying art in fulfilment of longterm ambitions (alongside baby sis);
• Went part time halfway through first semester (see also baby sis);
• Reconciled with a former close associate after a long estrangement, which made me very happy;
• Got very suddenly & unexpectedly shitcanned by a then-close associate three weeks later, with the inverse effect;
• Deferred school and everything else and moped around reclusively for months doing increasingly little except thinking about everything, with increasingly hilarious consequences;
• Turned 34 24 2.0;
• Slapped myself around some for having fucked up so badly, thereby fucking things up more;
• Got a job and started to apply the breaks.

I'm not going to thank specific people Oscar-stylez like I have the last two years.

People who've been awesome: thanks. People in general: also that other thing. Seriously.

Life is improving. I think we'll be doing just fine if we relax a little.

Happy new year.

4/5.

SRC Xmas Party

17th December.

Vale SRC. I'm gonna miss you hugely in some ways; in other ways not so much. I'll certainly miss your Xmas parties. Or maybe I'll just crash them.

The following was captured at Harrie & Atkins' house, at some point quite far into the 17-odd hours' worth of extended shenanigans.

Messy night; messy audio. But I like it.

(Previously.)

Hooray For The Existential Condition

I think we just Realised something. Finally.

It's quite good; could be a keeper.

Thanks to the weird amalgam of Toots, 2003 & Wads that I dreamt about last night. And also former operative Hawthorne, in an incredibly perverse but not unpoetic kinda way.

4/5, etc.

No One's There, Victoria

Shed Party / Coburg's

Abort Abort etc

(Previously; etc, etc, etc, etc, etc.)

New Notebook / Thursday Night

Things To Be Thankful For (Seven)

Art.

Specifically: really goddamn good art.

Fuck yeah.

(Previously; elsewhere.)

Things To Be Thankful For (Two)

Dinner parties of awesome.

And everything and everyone associated with such occasions.

Also: punching bags.

Birthday

It's certainly been a memorable one. I liked it much better than last year's.

Prize for the best party guest overall goes to Patrick. Prize for the most liable for nothing party guest is a three-way tie between Shane, The Sorcha, and, of course, Coburg.

Prize for the best party guest who wasn't there physically but came in essence goes to Wads. Prize for the most missed party absentee is a tie between Em and this chick. Prize for the best party guest who did attend physically, but who I unfortunately never actually got around to talking to is a three-way tie between Li, Kav, and The Major. Prize for the best (if maybe in hindsight somewhat regrettable) picture of a My Little Cthulhu Bunny goes to Magnus.

Prize for the most devastating headfuckery goes to my housemate & ex-fiancee. Prize for the most comically hypocritical abusive emails goes to Henley. Prize for the most awesome drunken deep & meaningful alleyway convo goes to Liv. I'm not sure what exactly to award the artist formerly known as Semi, but I suspect he deserves a prize of some kind - or that if he doesn't now, he may well before too long.

Prize for the most broken nose goes to Luke. Prize for the most blood cheerfully & unsolicitedly cleaned up as a result of a broken nose goes to Harrie. Prize for the driest one-liners (always) and best wildlife photography goes to Ramm. Prize for the best shisha lesson goes to Nichk. Prize for the heterosexual male with the most sophisticated understanding of little girls' pop music (and also the special award for getting locked in the enclosed garden off my bedroom by a psycho chick person I'm sure is lovely once you get to know her, and then being too wasted to think of calling someone to let him out) goes to Grimsey.

Prize for the best nail-painting (and best former housemate ever) goes to Cel. Prize for the best hungover breakfast-making and tidying up goes to Kat. Prize for the oldest and most enduring friend goes to Bentendo. Prize for the best anonymous benefactor goes to whoever sent me the copy of M2M's second album I found in my mailbox yesterday.

Prize for the best present (y'know, apart from causing me to be born in the first place and shit) goes to my parents.

Prize for the best sister in the entire fucking world goes to this bitch.

Prize for the best mistress (and inexpressible amounts of gratitude & love) goes to Schnozzie.

Thanks, everyone.

It's All Over

So long, the so-called Real World. It was nice knowing you. In some aspects.

ION: O. M. F. G. Why was I not told about this?! (That's what I get for not reading the news, I guess.)

Chez Hagakure Red Wine & Homebrew Quiet Night In

With Luke.

Chez Hagakure Tea & Pizza Shapes Meet

Starring this chick.

(Previously; previously; previously; previously; previously; elsewhere.)

Chez Hagakure Bong Summit

Attending; presiding.

Seriously!

Ah, who am I kidding. It'll happen when it happens.

I am well, btw. Just not very blog-oriented right now, for whatever reason..

Happy International Liable For Nothing Day

4/5.

*nods*

NBP!

LFN. :P!!

:)

xxx

(ION: \m/ (>.<) \m/)

TIA. (No, not that TIA.) (Necessarily.)

(LFN!!!)

(This post is dedicated to Mr R. Henley, who doesn't approve of this kind of thing. Appaz.)

I Want To Marry M2M

Yes, both of them.

Housewarming went OFF, btw. But that's hardly news.

UPDATE: What is news is that it went OFF so much it's been determined we need another, smaller one this Saturday to contain the fallout. There will be cigars, apparently. (And a Shisha! N - of K & N fame - totally gave me a Shisha for no particular reason. LFN!)

My Housewarming = Tonight

It is going to go OFF.

Here is a picture that this chick posted on my wall, which I like very much:

As you can see, it depicts a longhaired cat sitting atop a moog or some such against a background of stars and bares the motto: "Astro Cat will play for you the Symphony of Space."

Like William Carlos Williams' red wheelbarrow, it is what it is.

No more, and no less.

It's A Bloggy Soap Opera; Deal With It

Previously.

[Teh Gabster]
Today at 9:10am

Your status update sound news-full.

*hug*

[Me]
Today at 9:25am

So I post on her wall, right, saying thanks for a delightful afternoon (which it undoubtedly was, methinks, for all concerned) and reminding her to text me her new mobile no - which she was totally going to give me in person, but we just forgot about it.

That afternoon I get a text: "Don't know if this will go thru, but if it does plz 2 no drunken late night texts, tay? :)"

(A few months ago, before she hacked my ass, but was very actively in the process of grinding the pieces of my shattered heart into the ground and treating me - with little or no sane justification - like the spawn of satan, there was a certain amount of angsty late-night drunken text messagery action on my part.)

Taking this in my stride, I replied: "OMG, the cheek!! I can make no promises. But tell you what - I will let you into my house, where my computer lives, without any fear of disastrous consequences and my mother being called a whore to boot, tay?! :P !! (<3)"

This was met with silence. I don't think she realised her message was a joke.

Crazy woman.

I still like her, though.

Happy Third Birthday, Blog

Here's to certainly at least one more year of.. whatever the hell kind of fuckery this is.

:)

(A year ago. Two years ago. Three years ago.)

Most Fucked Up Easter Ever (Y'know, In A Good Way)

So there I was, attending an uncivilised picnic in the park on Royal Parade, having a perfectly nice time & minding my own and a select handful of other peoples' business when who should call me completely out of nowhere on my - which is to say, someone else's - mobile telephony device but the J-meister.

(Previously.)

We hadn't spoken in the voice since November, when I drunkenly and unsolicitedly facilitated her and Henley's first ever verbal exchange. She's been in the country three weeks, apparently. Now she & the H-Dogg were in my hood. And they wanted to hang.

Headfuck!

The tone of her voice didn't make me feel like something she'd just scraped off her shoe, which was nice. So, throwing caution to the wind as I am wont to do on occasion, I went.

We met at Alia. We talked. We danced. A good time was had. It seems like we're all friends now. Which is totally what I wanted, although if you'd asked me twelve hours ago I'd have said this outcome seemed less likely than [insert comedy incredibly unlikely occurrence which in practice will never ever happen here]. They're totally coming to my housewarming and shit.

I don't know what else to say about all of this, but if ever something seemed blogworthy etc.

Hooray for drugs; hooray for Jebus.

Despite my cynicism regarding his religion(s), I am a fan of the man's work. That cunt was liable for nothing.

Liable For NOTHING

Okay - the liability for mess thing? This thing? Totally figured it out. Mess can be made liability neutral. Gab and I are cleaning up mess right now and WE. ARE. HAVING. A. BLAST. We seriously are.

We will be slightly sad when the mess is gone, because there will be no more mess to not be liable for, and shit. But that's okay; we'll find something else to do.

Liable for nothing.

Seriously.

*eye contact* etc

Totally.

*very long pause*

*nod*

Rainbow Serpent (Part 2)

Rainbow Serpent (Part 1)

So yes: about a month ago I accompanied my colleague and fellow Merrie Scrambler Major G to Rainbow Serpent. She'd scored a free ticket and needed a handbag company; we went halves.

It was incredibly excellent.

I captured a lot of media, and thankfully had the foresight to copy it off my phone before it died. Then my computer died. Etc blah blah.

Here at long last, etc.

To be continued.

Okay.

It's a bit hard to to know where to start.

*thinks*

So my computer's sound recording facilities had been playing up, right. Had been for a while. It was no good. I wanted to make an album.

Thus on the morning of January 15th, I called a taxi and took the old gel into town to be serviced. They told me it would take four days. It wound up taking three weeks. But they did it.

In the meantime, I got totally hacked. First teigan@gmail.com, then [mylegalname]@gmail.com, my blog and my Facebook accounts all stopped accepting their passwords across the final week of January.

On Friday the 8th of February, I got my computer back. On Saturday, I threw a party. This is where we came in.

Upon getting reputered, I created some special email accounts and conducted a few experiments. Via these I established to a high degree of likelihood that my hacker was good old Henley. Somewhat predictably, I lost my shit at him.

On Tuesday 12th, I attempted to boot my newly restored digital handmaiden only to discover that - four days after returning home to me - she had totally, totally died.

I was 'puterless once more.

Then the following night - Valentine's Eve, no less - none other than Henley's girlfriend, a former close associate of mine, claimed responsibility for the hacking via SMS.

Leave the poor petal alone, she said. He's innocent.

I was skeptical at first, but when she told me that teigan@gmail was wide open for resetting (Quick! Jump up and find an open internet cafe at 2am etc), I realised she was probably telling at least some weird Lady-J-since-she-turned-feral version of the truth.

Why had the former love of my life done this to me? She'd written to me at another account, she said - one of the ones she hadn't violated and locked me out of - explaining everything.

Only problem was, I had (of course) been changing all my passwords like a demon - without having gotten around to making a backup or a hard copy of any of them. From my computer. Which had since - you will recall - dropped totally, totally dead.

In other words I was now not only 'puterless and locked out of my hacked accounts, but 'puterless and locked out of all my internet accounts.

Then in the early hours of Sunday 17th, Wouters dropped my last remaining link to civilisation phone in a full glass of bourbon & coke.

Oy.

Various people have eased my journey through this Durdenesque ordeal, and thanks are due.

Mishuki of Hagakure 419 fame was good enough to let me use hir Facebook profile. My colleague in social research, fellow FB tragic and soon-to-be-housemate Celestine has been extremely generous with her 3G handset, enabling me to update my status in something akin to the style to which I've become compulsively accustomed. Thad gave me a safe-haven email account on his server. And last Tuesday, having learned that my dead six-year-old eMac would cost $700 to reanimate, my long-suffering parents offered to buy me a MacBook. Which was very nice of them.

I picked it up this morning. I'm using it now. It's lovely.

(I'd take a picture but since the destruction of my phone I've got no working digital camera, except the one inside said MacBook. And its eye is not prehensile. But here's a picture of the box:

)

And now I have my accounts back.

Things are gradually returning to some semblance of what passes for 'normal' on Planet Teigan.

*flops exhaustedly*

Apart from all of that, I have mostly been going out a lot - having, y'know, not a whole lot else to do - and taking quite a lot of acid.

It's been.. awesome, actually. Can't complain.

Oh, and I got engaged on Saturday night. I think. But that's a whole other story.

Welcome back, blog.

Coming soon: the long, long-delayed multimediatastic Rainbow Serpent post.

Liable For Nothing

Starring Johnny Coburg (nb liable for nothing) and Sjorka The Sorcha (please note: liable for nothing), as themselves.

No liability was incurred.