Bandwagons, and the jumping upon thereof.

So I gots me a LiveJournal.
Heather (she's a sentinel, you know) said I needed one, and she usually knows what she's talking about. These things are a great way of keeping track of people, and I haven't always been the best at staying in touch with friends, so that's useful. And more importantly, blogs and journals have sometimes shown me sides of my friends that I wouldn't have seen otherwise. So I thought I might return in kind :)
As to what will go on it? Well, I'm not sure. Confessions and secrets? Maybe. Rants? Most likely. Reviews and the like as I try to push my opinion on an unwary world? Could be. Everyday reflections? Whatever. Acres of blank space as I let another commitment fall by the wayside? Let's hope not. I just haven't planned very far ahead. Whatever happens, hang on to your hats, it's going to be a bumpy- ahh, who am I kidding. It's just a journal. Calm down. Put your pants back on.

Thanks to andrewaskew for my startup code thingie :)

Cheese.

For lunch on Friday I ate Spaghetti with my fingers, which was fun. I had it with almost no sauce, but lots of cheese. And hence I discovered that the bizarre concept of "too much parmesan", a phenomenon which I had previously written off as the sort of urban folklore believed in only by the same kooks that insist they've been kidnapped and butt-raped by aliens that travelled halfway across the galaxy for that purpose and that purpose alone, was in fact a real occurance. Who woulda thunk.

Friday night I saw the SUDS production of The Real Inspector Hound with Owen and Tull. I'd never seen it before (though I have recollections of a completely inaudible school production), and a stonking good piece of meta-fiction it was too. It occurs that Tom Stoppard is responsible for most of the good things that have come out of England in the last decade. (debate!)
Afterwards we went out and Tully had a go at planning his life, spurred on by the impending need to make a decision about weather to apply for Uni. He made a big chart and mapped out possibilities for his life whilst Owen and I looked on and helped. And/or hindered.
I got a little inspired. My life is lacking for direction, and I need to examine my options. I'll let you know if I come to any conclusions.

Saturday I went house-hunting with Heather and Andrew, and Heather's mum, who is lovely and who drove us around. Norton was absent as ever.
Unfortunately, no joy.
We were geeed up to see a 3 bedroom place in Strathfield that was going for $150 a week, which turned out to be in fact a 3 bedroom cesspit in Strathfield that was going for $150 a week. Its stunning features included a single window, a toilet and bathroom convinent to the kitchen (adjoined, in fact), and the all pervasive smell of urine, dust, and rotting flesh. At least I think that's what it was. We also looked at a flat that day that came with a built-in high pitched background noise. Be the envy of your friends.
We did see a some houses that looked pretty good, and morale was boosted by the introduction of the idea that prices can be talked down if you are ready to move straight away - which we are.
I've been taking a passive role in much of this. I should probably start visiting agents or something.

Saturday night Chris (whom I still owe a birthday present) and I had a jam, which was fun, and watched Paris, Texas, which was good, though I got pissed off at the main character towards the end. Chris and I both agreed that jamming with drums should take place soon.

And the rain did hammer down.