Masterfully Ineffectual

There is a long story that could be printed here, and I am unsure of whether I will commit it to the blog. To begin with it was a great big deal, and it caused me a bit of pain; it could have been a great thing to purge here on the internet. But then after dismissing my rash plans and calming down I took some constructive action, only to have a higher power take it a lot further than I would have imagined or wanted. Gossip threatened to envelop me once more, and I thought I was overheard confessing my opinions on it to a friend. A few questions were asked but eventually I got to tell my side of the story to an even more definitive power, who softened the consequences for the accused considerably. Whose actions it turned out, had their own foundations in their own convoluted logic. I think you know to whom I refer.

The less said the better I think. It was a choice between the inconvenient more hate than love struggle of having companions, and the more productive but lack lustre experience of going it alone; and once more I chose the fleeting adult association over the tumultuous attention of my age group.

So much has happened between those events and the time I now write this blog from.

On Thursday a few boring dry people from La Trobe University came to tell us about how fantastic they are. They brought along a forest of leaflets, a slideshow strangely re-coloured by the shitty projector, and a boy of about 21 who told us that the best thing about Uni was the fact that all he did was party and get drunk. I don’t know whether they knew this was what he was going to say, and it’s not the usual selling point, but he was a great representative sample of the uncouth lot currently in their last year of school here. Even though I found him cretinous, I admired the fresh approach.

Anyway, while ignoring my English teacher in the next class, I read through their promotional booklet. This got me inspired to look into some courses on the net, and lo and behold – I found a course. It is in Melbourne, at the same place my singing teacher ended up studying, but a few qualification levels down. This course is designed for people with gaps in their musical knowledge, it says. And the best thing is, it’s out of the heart of the city, near enough to my grandmothers and I can afford it even now. Yay! Celebrate! My purpose has arrived. I feel decidedly under-whelmed, but at least this part of it is sorted. Now all I have to do is get in and get there.

I am making my reality now. I am taking charge just like I wanted. It has been a good time for art lately.

I have been on The Box a lot lately, finally finding a way to circumvent the internet policy; why The Box is banned in the first place I do not know, maybe its because of the anarchy section, which in true contrary spirit, I have been spending most of my time in. I talked to CaffeinatedCassadie and __ampersand a bit; and found numerous times, since she seems to be online at around the same times as myself, references to __ampersand’s idyllic and fulfilling sounding relationship. I spared a thought for my own loneliness.

I think I want to Brigade this year. I don’t know how my mother would feel about this, but it’s something that I want to do. I think I am finally in the right place mentally to undertake it. I racked my brains for about an hour trying to think of what on earth I would do. I couldn’t sing; or dance; or hand out candy, or secrets, or beads or what-have-you; I don’t have a living statue costume; I don’t do any wonderfully gross sideshow type tricks; I don’t have any exciting party tricks; or any friends to do something as an ensemble. It thought of handing out my contraband Amanda Palmer/Dresden Dolls fan fiction, but that mightn’t be the spirit of things, people are already having a Dolls experience by being there, and despite the quality of the writing, and the openness professed by the Shadow Boxers, fans seem to be decidedly unreceptive to this sort of art. I thought of dressing up fabulous and greeting everyone as they enter in a variety of languages, and then taking some sort of survey. But I have no idea what to ask, and this had been done the Onion Cellar. And anyway, I’m not even sure Amanda is coming to Australia at all on this tour.

I have named my three recent songs; they are called “Song Of The City”, “Ambition Blues” and “Telecast”. I promise I will bring you one of them in the podcast very soon.

Mwah!

☆