Peculiar Julia - Thought repository and wine-fuelled rambles, digital scrapbook and general shambles
Menu
Skip to content
  • home
  • About me/contact
  • planning
  • creativity
  • crafty stuff

Words of hilarity, zen, and wisdom from a post-post-postmodern masterpiece

16 April, 2007

The original intention of my last post was to do what I’m going to do with this one. But I lost the plot there and took a rather random journey. So here it is … what I was orginally going to post about.

Earlier this year I read an amazing book … “House of Leaves” by Mark Z. Danielewski. (‘House’ in blue because in the book everytime the word house appears it is in blue text – a little bit of a shout out.) A post-post-modern work that can be challenging and definitely fucks with your brain a bit. But so unique, pushing the boundaries and just … wow.

I want to share a few of my favourite passages. One because it is hysterically funny. Another because I found it quite zen-like. And two more because I found them very insightful and thought provoking.

Read More

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Leave a comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

The joys of cowshit and random absurd questions

16 April, 2007

It is school holidays and it is autumn, here in Australia. So I sit here with a cool breeze wafting in the front window and I have whacked my hair up into a loose bun so that I can feel that breeze caressing the nape of my neck. Such a delicious feeling. So refreshing, so gentle, and so sensual.

There is the sound of children playing in the street. Cricket. The game not the invertebrate. It’s an Australian institution – playing cricket in the middle of the street as a child. It is, after all, the safest place to play. The chances of getting yelled at for breaking somebody’s window are much less. I confess I never did play cricket in the middle of the street as I was hanging out with girls, not boys. But I do have very fond memories of visiting my cousins down in Bendigo, Victoria, during summer holidays when I was a child. Where we played cricket not in the middle of a street, but in a long skinny paddock across the road. A paddock with a horse and a trainline. The trick was to dodge the horseshit and cow patties while we were playing. Which brings up Random Question of Absurdity No. 1 for the day (and I have a few today) …

Why are there always cow patties in a paddock where there are no cows?

Read More

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Leave a comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

Yeah I’m an underachiever – so what?

16 April, 2007

Yesterday’s entry left a few ends untied and lying loose in the brain, which I let roll around and wait for it to slowly become something coherent and with form that I was to write tonight. Like an extension piece to what went before. But I left it too long / the noise from the tv robbed me of it / daily life whatever. It’s gone. I hate that.

Still I will try and grasp the tails of the few fragments that are left slithering around and try and piece something together.

Read More

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
2 Comments
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

Why and how does this fuckup fuck up? Grab a coffee and read on ….

14 April, 2007

Warning: If you’re looking for something light and easy to read, best move on. This is going to be one long-arsed and deeply personal post (set to flist only). If you are interested in learning in how I tick … here it is for good and worse … read on.

I’m in the midst of trying to salvage this week’s fuck up. Whether the situation is redeemable still remains to be seen. My instinct says not totally. Not to my satisfaction. Sometimes the resolution of such fuck ups can lead to a much more open and deeper level of understanding, a better starting point than the original one. I’d be happy with a return to what was.

Read More

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Leave a comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

Oh the sensualness of a hirsute sleeping partner

14 April, 2007

Last night I lay in bed snuggling with a hirsute companion in my arms. A soft smile on my lips, feeling comfort and repletion as his head nestled between my breasts. Completely at peace with myself and the world. I stretch like a cat, we silently alter our positions and get comfortable again … spooning, me behind with my arm encircling his body. My fingers explore the soft thick carpet of his chest hair. Entwining my fingers in it, luxuriating in the sensualness of how it feels on my fingertips, marvelling at how a simple thing as this can be the most beautiful thing in the world, at this moment in time. I slip into the realms of sleep and dreams knowing he will still be there when I wake up. And he was. Still clutched to my body when I awoke in the morning. And tonight, as I write this now, he is in bed waiting for me.

Last night I slept with one of Liam’s teddybears. It was amazingly comforting. Incredible that even a grown-up woman with a child of her own can still fall back on such childhood props and more incredibly, enjoy it. The last time I slept with a teddybear was in 2001 when I broke my back and was stuck in my sister’s place at Queensland. I nicked my nephew’s teddy. Hey … I was under the influence of mucho pain killers and valium and the teddy and my heatpack where my only companions while everyone was out of the house every day.

I say … everyone should ’embrace’ teddybears and incorporate them into their lives. They are warm, soft, always there whenever you want them, don’t complain if you neglect them for even years at a time, and you never have to feed them.

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
1 Comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

The not-so-uncommon act of cutting off penises

13 April, 2007

I’ve been sitting here in complete silence (what, no music?) trying to come up with a post tonight but the input box has remained blank for a full 20 minutes. I seem incapable of dredging anything up … even now I sit … wait … my brain remains obstinate. My unconsciousness is saying “you fuckup, you haven’t fucked up today. Don’t tempt fate now. Stay silent. Stay down.” ๐Ÿ˜†

Read More

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Leave a comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

I’m a monumental fuck up.

12 April, 2007

Bad Things:
* I’m a total fuck up. It is astounding the huge lengths I go to to make a phenomenal giant-sized fool of myself.
* Myspace. Yesterday I had a hard-on for it. Today it’s wilted. I wrote a whole blog post. Myspace had a brain-fart and wouldn’t move. I restarted the computer AGAIN and lost the whole post (sigh). Because …
* I fucked up.
* A friend is moving to Ireland. Even though she is now in the US, somehow Ireland is even further away.
* Not only am I a fuck up but I am also a social retard.
* My nose is cold.
* No-one can fuck up quite as well as me.
* After it taking all summer for the air conditioner mechanics to fix my aircon, now it’s time for using it for heat … something is stuck in the fan and making a a huge noise.
* I’m thinking of naming this new blog version 2 “Lessons in Fucking Up”
* I still don’t have a job. There are no jobs here. Unless you are a motor mechanic or a truck driver. And honey, I ain’t no truck driver.
* I need time out in The Hut (RENA!!!!!) so I can’t fuck up again tomorrow (it’s still before midnight here). Or better still .. just lock me in there and throw away the key for ever and ever amen. So I can’t fuck up ever again. Although .. I’m sure I could find some way to fuck up even in solitary confinement
* I turned my back on Catholicism many years ago which means I cannot now cloister myself in a nunnery (sigh). (stolen from Hem.)
* When will I ever learn not to fuck up?
* I’m female And not even a girly one at that.
* I have a bout ofร‚ย  insomnia again.
* And I have a tummy ache. Well that explains everything!!! As someone asked me just yesterday and DON’T you HATE that.
* Anxiety .. in response to fucking up … I had a nice bout of anxiety tonight. Choking, nauseating, quick-I-need-to-vomit anxiety.

No more whinging. Except to say I want to go to Ireland with.

Good Things:
* I have food in the fridge.
* It’s autumn … I adore autumn.
* There is a bottle of red wine in the house .. somewhere … I just have to find it. And cheese. But I know where that is ๐Ÿ˜‰
* I am in the middle of an excellent book. And I have a pile to others to read after it.
* I have Bauhaus doing Ziggy Stardust streaming through my headphones.
* I’m singing, tapping my feet and nodding my head. That’s a good thing.
* I have a “commission” to do a pen and ink portrait.
* Now it’s the Buzzcocks – What Do I Get? – what an awesome playlist ๐Ÿ™‚
* I am curled up on the lounge with my laptop.
* Bowie singing All The Young Dudes.
* I’m having a conversation via myspace messages with my sister in Qld as I blog. Regular contact, no expensive phone calls. It’s a good thing.
* Tylenol.

Now … I want my girls, a bottle of wine, and a great big cuddle. Not necessarily in that order.ร‚ย  ๐Ÿ˜ฅ

I must go to bed soon before I christen the new day with a brand new fuck up .

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
1 Comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

Welcome to blog incarnation no. 2.

6 April, 2007

Aร‚ย  fresh start … fresh look … fresh name. It may be a work in progress for a while until I get all of the admin and layout worked out, stuff transferred over.

Here’s to a more serene blogging experience!

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
2 Comments
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

19 January, 0007

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Tumblr
  • More
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Leave a comment
Share
  • Pin it
  • Share
  • Tweet
  • Share
  • Email
  • Print

Posts navigation

Previous Page 1 2 … 19 20 21

Archives

  • March 2019
  • August 2018
  • March 2018
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • January 2015
  • August 2014
  • June 2014
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • October 2012
  • April 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • June 2011
  • December 2010
  • November 2010
  • October 2010
  • July 2010
  • June 2010
  • May 2010
  • April 2010
  • March 2010
  • February 2010
  • January 2010
  • December 2009
  • November 2009
  • October 2009
  • September 2009
  • August 2009
  • July 2009
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • November 2008
  • October 2008
  • August 2008
  • June 2008
  • May 2008
  • April 2008
  • March 2008
  • February 2008
  • January 2008
  • November 2007
  • October 2007
  • September 2007
  • August 2007
  • July 2007
  • June 2007
  • May 2007
  • April 2007
  • January 7

Meta

  • Log in
copyright peculiar jules 2015
Angie Makes Feminine WordPress Themes
%d