fatvegan

So some of my friends and my family are going away to Peru, and they might not come back for quite a while. It is a bit sad. I don't feel like I know what's it's going to be like after they go. This little mob wasn't the only reason I came to Alice Springs, but it was a fair bit of the reason. Now I am here I like it a lot and probably will stay here for longer. For instance, I have a nice dog having a nap on my floor and Kev Carmody is playing and we are having a nice day of pancakes, cleaning, packing, painting tables, mud-brick house scheming and saying funny things to Nina to see what funny things she says back (we do that one most days). There is not much not to love about that. Some of those things will stop happening after tomorrow, but then a lot of them will keep happening. I can even still say funny things to Nina over the interweb.

It has been a pretty marvelous desert year. Another year of experimenting with not doing much at all besides trying to be around. This one probably worked better than last year. Probably because it takes babies longer to get bored of very available friends. And dogs too, they are very patient and generous with their time.

Now I will have an awful lot of spare time. I won't much be able to get into town to use it up with town activities. So I will make up some home activities in between working a little bit but not very much. My first one is building a small house. Like a tiny house, but a tiny bit bigger than that perhaps. It will have thick heavy cool mud walls. I have been told not to get too attached to technologies when planning a house, but I have got quite attached to the idea of those nice walls. Maybe I will change my mind half-way through when I have tired of lifting and moving mud from spot to spot.

If you reached the bottom of this you should come and visit us here one day. It is good.

Them: I took my doll's pram out for a push today.
Me: Was anything in the pram? Did you have a doll?
Them: And my boyfriend.
Me: Golly. That would be a tight squeeze.
Them: Yep. Cindy Anne, my D-O-G was in there too.
Me: Wow. So you have a doll, your boyfriend and your dog in the pram and took them all out for a walk?
Them: Yep. It's a good pram. No problems with it. It's in good spirits. No spider webs. No insects. No spiders. No ants nests.
Me: No ants?
Them: No. No ants. The pram still goes. I like it.
Me: It sounds like an amazing pram. Sounds very sturdy and reliable.
Them: It still has it's hood. No tearing. No signs of forced entry. No cutting. It doesn't have any flies. No mosquitoes or flies in it.
Me: A hood? To keep out the rain and sun?
Them: Yep. It still has it's H-O-O-D. I took them all out for a walk in it. We went to the city with it. And then I came back home with it.
Me: It was strong enough? It didn't break?
Them: No. It's such a good pram. Why would you want any other? I don't want another pram.
Me: Why would you? You'd be crazy to swap a pram like that?
Them: Yep. I saw the policeman at the station. I didn't make any F-U-S-S. I just shook his hand. He said the pram was OK. And he said my boyfriend was OK too.
Me: He didn't hassle you at all?
Them: Nope. He was calm.

Hey libs, if you're at home sometime today I can drop off your scarf, jumper and pear nectar.

Libby just got this SMS.

Happy Birthday Mil. Twenty-five is a pretty good age. Although tough to say if it's better than twenty-four. Definitely better than twenty-two.

Beyond the finger on the trigger

Miranda Devine has a good article about the boy who shot those students in Virginia. His story is so familiar, and mostly me makes me wonder why attacks like his don't happen more often. I could have been him when I was younger. Leaving school was one of the best decisions I've made. I had a couple of other friends when I was 13, but my social experiences were predominantly at school. Students hide out in libraries and bathrooms to minimise the number of interactions they have with other students. I suppose I took that minimisation problem to the logical extreme.

Schools suck and I wouldn't argue with anyone who thought that spending 22 hours a day in their bedroom by themselves was less harmful to their psyche than going to school.

Helen and Jon came around for dinner tonight. It was pretty fun but those two sleepy kittens always have to go nap just when the party's getting started. Jon always inspires me to not worry so much about feelings of inadequacy concerning social appropriateness.

We had curry which was hot but pretty tasty. We should have put less curry paste in.

I watched the very end of The Departed after months of wondering and was well satisfied. Scorcese is pure brilliance.

Houses are way quieter with five people than they are with six people. Especially when the sixth person is Jem. Since my sister went overseas I feel like I don't have any friends.

I reckon The Shins could be my favourite band. Apart from Merril Bainbridge (obviously) I haven't ever really wanted to be friends with anyone from my favourite bands. But I really want to be friends with the boys from The Shins. Even Bob Dylan, who I love, I wouldn't really want to be friends with, because for me that would be like being best buddies with Elijah from the old testament. And while you'd like to think that you can mix it with the prophet crowd, deep down I think we all know we'd just embarass ourselves.

Hot nudey woman

tits too

Ian is visiting me today. He's just stopping by in Sydney for the day. I haven't seen him yet, but he's around. I was going to pick him up from the airport last night, but rang into some hassles at customs I am guessing. I sent him a message asking him what was up and I got this.

I cutting trees. Distillation was not success. Well little fuel. Reasons i can explain... Busy busy busy deforestating

There is a dog that lives not far from us who we see whenever we go to St Peter's station. He's a friendly, sad-looking dog. He always gets happy whenever people walk past, but goes back to his bed when they don't stop to pat him.

Libby and I have wanted to pat him for a long time, but we were always too scared. He's a big dog, and you get the sense that if you caught him on a bad day he'd be able to snap your arm without even breaking a pant.

But today Libby told me I should pat him when I walked back home after dropping her off at the station. So I did. And he was a great dog. So lovely and generous. He got a bit riled when a skate-boarder skooted past, but who can blame him.

I read his collar too, looking for his name. It said Today we kill, Tomorrow we die. I can only assume it was an ironic statement by the dog, like the guy in Full Metal Jacket. Perhaps he was wanting to say a little something about the duality of dog. Sir.