The things you do for love.

Be careful what you wish for right? I’ve always expected to end up at the arse end of Australia if anywhere assuming the magic job fairy ever blesses me – and if you know Australia then you know how bleak that might be. I’ve been to the outback once and it was horrible, it’s too hot for rocks out there – too dry for anything more than beasts that survived the permian extinction. I know this because one of them, a two meter Monitor lizard tried to eat me. Lucky for me Aussie men are mad from the heat and this guy chased it off with a very large stick. I have to say though – it did look at him with some hesitation before it went away, I’m pretty sure it was thinking – can I take them both?

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Above: That’ my kitty!

I like blokey dudes, those that appear out of no where wielding a dead tree to save me from something pre-postosuchus. Thing is, we have dicks here too, a lot, and most of them I’ve met, it seems – to me.

Anyway that’s a little off topic – I’ll lay off the man bashing shall I? I’d been busy applying to the few scienceful jobs that don’t involve oil/iron/uranium/gas flavoured land raping – as I am not a fan of any of that sort of thing, and got a bite! Which is where I have been lately, I got to go play science at a big radio telescope which was actually near civilisation!

Sadly I am part of a team who has been working on some imaging tech which I’d tell you about but then I’d have to kill you. It’s a secret, unless you’re a Russian or Chinese hacker than you’ve probably already got access to it and my laptop camera, which is why I am wearing a t-shirt in bed. We are working for another place – which is much larger and specialised than the facility we will are starting at – looking at sharpening resolutions that will help look backwards in time.

Cue 2001 jokes.

The days of individuals doing anything in science alone and getting anywhere are probably gone, so I have shelved the plans I had of a warp drive, cold fusion reactor and Make-me-taller© beam, which I began designing when I was 6 I think. Sadly I am no closer to any prototypes of them than I was when I announced to my mum that the fluids under the kitchen sink which I’d poured into the lawn mower tank actually warped space/time. At least this time I won’t miss out on dessert for a month.

Gosh I hope it works – it’d be nice to actually get my masters… I have a female friend in the group – another woman who goes to parties to get asked what she does – then has to listen to some idiot guy insist that astrology is legitimate science. Poor thing, oh well at least I’m not ethnic and I don’t get the – hi do you speak English thing.

The remaining two have willies – I am assuming – they have boys names and one of them is quite a cool guy, he is capable of real conversations and actually refuses to abbreviate in text messages! Keeper! This dude and I get along quite well and so we do most of the talking, his name is Dave – get it? I do – cough.

So contestant number 4 is well – have you ever done science? You know the kid that got all the 100%’s in everything and has that look on his face like he peed his pants and he thinks you should clean that up for him? The plump mummies boy with the same thick glasses as me although not for fasshy ironic reasons just because they are more practical – sociopath? The guy who in first year said “You’ll just get pregnant to one of the marketing students” as a kind of hello.

Him. Sweet Darwin – kill me now.

So he’s a genius at programming and thankfully I’m not in that stream but somehow he ended up being interested in the kind of thing that the rest of us are. So he and his buddies wrote something that almost worked, until my other – overdue to be pregnant student – and I worked out why his software didn’t work. Here is the news! Girls beat man – at something that involves thinking no less! A dark day in history.

No, we don’t get on, did you guess? Dave seems to be able to communicate with spectacled hate and his cadre of geeks but those of us plagued with stupid inducing bewbz not so much. The other she – not me – the other woman has so much patience – not even I seem to get on her nerves but he does, so there you have it, it’s not just me.

Anyway we have to spend spring together – mostly in a small room and in small on-campus accommodation so I am ploughing through vodka and illicit substances – cards against humanity too, he’s great at that, and burying hookers in his back yard. Don’t get me wrong this is awesome, but it’d be nice to not have to deal with him.

Did I tell you I fucking love science? Even if you are stuck in a room for most of the rest of your life pouring over data, trying to work out where a hypothetical/theoretical something is.

I was worried when I took this stream that I’d end up either jobless or working for some dreary commercial interest but here I am staring at the sky again – joy!

I won’t see much of this spring though – sadly – oh hello Mr vodka! Have you met Ms lime? Have a swish around to some music and meet me in my mouth.

 

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Internet security :/

I began life on a IBM thinkpad, it was a kick arse thing when I was six I think, or five, I can’t quite remember but it only lasted a year until I broke it. The thing was really heavy and I was a small weedy kid with arms more like vines – floor meet laptop. I remember thinking wow it broke the floor then I started thinking about how the coloured shapes in the kitchen floor are rocks made of colour – or colour made into rocks. I was thinking about this not the broken laptop when my mum arrived and asked me what I’d done. I said I think I broke the floor, which both of us were more concerned about than the laptop, it surprised both of us that my dad thought the laptop was more important.

Mind of women – different you say? I am still fascinated by colour even though I was never good at art I am a boss at physics and maths – unfortunately I am also good at dropping expensive tech. 3 MacBook pros and iPad and five – yes five phones. I could have bought a Toyota Corolla for that – if I had no taste or hated life.

Poor Thinkpad – it was replaced by a cool new Vaio which I chose, mum agreed it looked cool and dad shuddered. It also had changeable covers that so you could co-ordinate – sorry I’ll go find the point again…

The Vaio was lovely, sexy and sleek but it was marred by Windows which at the time was basically a magnet for virus’ and picked up more infections than a junkie who finds his needles in the gutter. Not that I cared, I have always been a nerd and diligently closed all the ports that where not in use, installed a connection monitor, anti-virus and didn’t really spend much time at the kind of sites that spread tech disease being a  kid. Still Windows being what it was managed to get infected all the time, I understood and didn’t care, I used public transport which seemed analogous at the time.

I was a twelve or thirteen when mum bought me an iBook, it wasn’t that nasty plastic Barbie thing it was the white square one initially dismayed at it’s lack of anything Microsoft I soon got to love that lappy, iTunes helped and the way nothing seemed to worry it. I had to be gentle with all my previous computers and I could be a bit rough with that one. That was the end of me and Microsoft, other than work and airports I can’t say I missed M$.

I’ve never had a virus or malware or anything like that on a Mac but to be honest I also keep my computer updated with anti-virus apps, I don’t allow remote access to anything, I shun social media, don’t visit dodgy websites and routinely wipe caches and cookies.

I do a lot – almost all my shopping online – outside of clothes and food – but I also have a password manager. I regularly change my passwords for banks and iTunes – which is the only place I was hacked and even then because the people who did it tried to buy a iPhone at a store I’ve never used Apple said no and contacted MasterCard who called me instantly.

So I look at people who get virus ridden and loose their credit card details to the wrong people and think how? Why?

Security online? It’s only going to get worse so stop vomiting all your details and pics onto social media, I once came across a girl using my pic and she (?) actually argued that it was her! So then I stopped using it. Never put your address or even country on a profile, phone number, likes and dislikes. Trash Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and Instagram – it’s only making your insecurities worse and shaking your meme fist at Trump isn’t working is it?

Use a password generator – preferably a hardcore one not the name of your pet or deity. Use anti-virus software – if you are going to subscribe to anything subscribe to that. Use a VPN – a virtual private network – so no one can track you. Ok that’s techy – phone a friend for that.

And don’t be stupid, which is asking a lot of most people – but not you – if you read me you’re probably smart right?

Soooo – here’s how to delete your download history on the MacOs – not that you’ve been to Pornhub ever… no – me neither.

Go to your drive, then to the ‘applications’ folder, then to ‘utilities’ inside that – there you’ll find the ‘terminal’ app – launch it and paste this into it…

sqlite3 ~/Library/Preferences/com.apple.LaunchServices.QuarantineEventsV* ‘delete from LSQuarantineEvent’

You’re welcome.

Reality Bytes

Is there something wrong with being a nihilistic optimist? Don’t get me wrong I like movies, books, all kinds of fiction but I get nervous when people tell me to believe in something, I much prefer knowing, believing is to me why people fly planes into buildings and give their bank details to scammers.

I know it’s cynical of me to equate belief and fraud but it’s kept me alive so I’m loathe to drop my knickers – I mean guard on this. Aww hell it’s sunny and nice I feel like a bit of innuendo – sheesh!

In the brighter times of my life I have often let my guard down, thrown caution to the wind and let people who like causes into my life but you know what, they are all mad, mental and ok maybe angry too. Why? I dunno, like I said I am an optimistic nihilist, I like being alive, I like the sun, holidays, nature, books – hell I think I’d like two life times thanks, that way I might finish enjoying myself.

Life can be a rough pecker, doing you when you’re not ready but it’s not always, and even when it is you can usually find some light somewhere. This idea that when you die things are going to get better or you’re going to win a lottery to a better neighbourhood? Really?

Cats don’t get shitty about being alive, they don’t get huffy when you put them down, they also don’t cry abandonment when you don’t pat them all the time, they actually get annoyed if you try to over affection at them. Yep that was a gen-y sentence huh? You know we do that to shit you right?

OoOo the joy of annoyingly, unswervingly content.

Having said that, have you seen that laugh yoga? The fuck is that? Suddenly I feel sane and not so mental, those people are mental you can just tell they would rather be crying, and probably will when they get home – to their cat – who is also not into them.

You can let personal horror and tragedy take joy out of you or you can lie in the sun when you can.

Mmm coffee and raspberry muffin. I really would like a cigarette with it though. sigh.

Historically Accurate Disney Princess Song – Rachel Bloom, enjoy, I did!

Friends – with boners – n uz olde-men… put down your beers.

One of the things I wonder about men is if they experience the kind of projection that seems to come with being female. Almost every man I’ve known has had a crack at telling me who I am and what I should be – two different things apparently. Women don’t do that – to me at least, maybe to others – but in my experience no.

So I think I am about to loose another friend who insists on drunk calling, texting and oddly emailing. He’s twice and a bit my age but I know he as a crush on me and I have done my best to dissuade his interest in anything but friendy things. Which men seem to get very pissy about – going to the extent of coming up with a term ‘friendzoning’. This horrible place where a woman you like holds you at the distance where you can’t put your dick in her.

Some people think that the law of diffusion where a concentrated substance will spread to a low concentration works on women, i.e. if you hang around one no matter the age difference, or any other obstacle – say she’s not attracted to you sexually will be overcome.

I’m pretty sure this comes from the movies, where dorks continually are showered in hot women who just love awkward idiots with bad hair and laughs like donkeys. Sure, totally hot, I don’t know why Hollywood thinks that’s so important but they have been doing it for years, maybe it’s a side effect of creepy old producers sexually harassing would be starlets into sex? Maybe they think if they make enough Adam Sandler movies we’ll all admit our mistake and marry insufferable jerks.

Not that my mate is an insufferable jerk in that way, more in the chuckle at an opinion and then a passive – ‘the right ways is this…’ Which is in itself insufferable, so why put up with it?

The charm spiral. There is this thing I call the charm spiral, where someone will be nice to you in wide nice circles, respectfully distant yet a good buddie then occasionally swoop and apologise for the strange arse squeeze that came out of no where as – ‘an accident’ or a friendly arse squeeze – you know it’s a bit like when a president grabs your vagina and you should be fine with that otherwise you’re a nazi feminist.

Being inappropriately touched by someone you know is a difficult problem to broach with a friend, so they know you are currently single, they’ve been your buddy for a while so there is common ground, so when they make a move and you are offended or even not into it then it’s a shock to them. Which is funny because it shouldn’t be to you. According to them, to them it’s a natural progression and almost an inevitability, like erosion or taxes.

The fact your friend knows you’ve been sexually assaulted seems to now be something you should – yanno – get over – somewhere in the last year you should have accepted the fact that you are his and as soon as your relationship mourning period was over get used to the idea.

That, upsetting as it is isn’t the worst things that can happen, at least in my opinion it’s the patronising that can happen with this sort of age difference. Guys – and girls my age seem to have a line they’ll tell you if they have a strong opinion, you’ll argue and its done, they know, you know and it becomes a line that you don’t approach unless it’s a joke or your relationship deteriorates to the point where you need ammo in the ‘final battle’.

I fully appreciate that at not quite 30 I am not the wisest person on earth, some of my ideas and opinions might be right. But the mansplaining thing, that my friends is fucking annoying. There are a few things I am an expert on, maths, physics, being a woman, my like of dick/pussy and things I like or dislike. Getting told about those in a matter of fact way, that’s a bit much, its like when you tell someone you are an atheist – or a deist and they nod then tell you why you’re wrong and how silly you are.

Ranty as I am I try not to lecture people about how there is no god and physics is my prophet, sorry poor joke. People get offended when you keep doing that little laugh and telling them not to be silly. Silly, that’s a good way of spotting a sentence where you’ve been an arshole and need to stop drinking then apologise and go home.

As a member of gen-y I have to accept I am responsible for the fuckery that is going on in the world, how my phone and I have ruined the planet, my views on sex, gender, politics, 80’s fashion, make up and everything else is terrible compared to older people – cough – men.

My apologies, you’re right, again.

Joie de vivre

I don’t cry much, I don’t cry at movies, I don’t cry at weddings, sad songs, but I don’t begrudge people having a cry, I think it’s good for you I just don’t do it much. I have done, many times but I think after all is aid and done I am a positive person. If I am not positive then I am sarcastic, which some see as the low point of wit, they usually wear pearls and drink unsweetened tea when we are doing shots, and tisking when we are snort laughing.

This has either allowed me to stay mental but cheerful or if you watch a lot of horror means you shouldn’t go camping with me. Fear not, I hate camping and the only stars I like to sleep under is the five stars of a hotel.

I think this cheerful outlook comes from how I treat drudgery, I tell myself it won’t last so look forward, I also think this when I am enjoying things like parties and uni, so I tell myself to enjoy that too for joy is fleeting stuff as much of it into your handbag as you can.

There are days like today, when I have done my work that can sit here with the thermostat on 30, in a t-shirt and ugg boots, smell the full cream sexy of my coffee while blowing a joint like it was my favourite ever boyfriend and do what I please.

You remember the tale of the ant and the grasshopper? I’m neither, I am thrifty with things so that at the end I can indulge in obscenely selfish pleasures. I’ll have a bath, that will take an hour where I’ll slowly rub the soreness out of every bit of me. Dress in something comfy and warm and go down to this park not far from here and sit there and read something that has nothing to do with physics and it’s going to be divine.

After I’ll order some Thai, have another joint before it, a Chardonnay during and watch a movie on the couch then have a bed joint before bed.

I’ve had a few addictions, the worst was cigarettes but even those I rarely smoked more than 10 a day at a peak. Chocolate, coffee and other minor addictions I’ve never over-indulged in, nor have I ever seen the worth of it. Treats should be treats, otherwise they have a way of backfiring and most things in life are about balance. The trick to having a cake for lunch is not having cake every day, nor ice-cream nor anything that is bad for you but comforting.

Still; enjoyment is what life is meant for, pleasure slightly less, sensuality is a measure not a scoop or a second helping, denial is part of why reward is so good. Those of you who are good in bed know what I mean, there is a balance to everything, sometimes that is obvious sometimes it’s a feeling, a line an abstract.

A friend of mine was listening to Édith Piaf and telling me how bitterly sad La Vie en rose is, I never thought so, to me it sounds defiant, a celebration. She tells me it’s about the life of a rose, thorny and bitter sweet, I tell her it’s about a rose coloured world, neither of us speak French, we look at the same thing and take a different meaning.

Today was a good day, as a reward for working hard, you should try that I highly recommend it.

Alice – Pogo

I alone have escaped to tell you…

I am not religious in the slightest, I even don’t believe in luck, the greater good or karma, that said I live in this world with the rest of you, so this is where the title comes from. When I was a kid I briefly lived rough on the street after escaping the clutches of state care, which is a joke if you’ve been there – because if you had you’d realise that the state don’t care at all. Suspicions confirmed.

At two of my lowest points I was picked up by a mission, church groups that go around and look after the messy things that become of people when they live in dumpsters and doorways. After these two occasions I felt beholding enough to visit their churches and during one of the sermons the priest gave a talk about Job, this guy who god and the devil make a bet over.

The devil tells god that Job, a pious man, is only that way because god gives him all the toys, god says no – he’s like that because he loves me. So the devil bets god he can make him change his way. God takes up the bet and lets the devil loose on Job who loses everything, his family, health, wealth and whatever. At this point I was like, wow that’s me, then as the story goes on it becomes apparent that god is a sociopath and gives no shits about Jobs family, just wining the bet. Then when Job takes it all it seems that the both of them are cut from the same serial killer cloth.

Job ‘wins’ god the bet, so god bestows a new family on him, wealth and sheep which back then was the equivalent of a house in Brighton, Ferraris and bitches. Everything is wonderful again right?

No, fuck no, not a bit.

When you are one of Job’s family, and fate – because that’s as close to god as is possible – deals you a back hand then tells you to smile while repeating the back hand, it is very difficult to see the bright side – ever again.

For all the smiles and curls and pretty frocks you wear on the outside, it’s almost impossible to drain off the rot of abuse and abandonment, violence and usury. We all have our own flavour of mud we used to – perhaps still – soak in though. We stumble through life, and an horrific amount of us have this thing inside us, that fate did to us and we don’t have the slightest idea how to rid ourselves of it.

Sadly superstitious pasts have confused the issue and hampered medicine, science and care from coming up with anything but pills and generic cures which often are no cure at all.

Here take this.

Simile, until it becomes a habit!

Talk, it helps when you do.

Does it? My experience of internal damage is that it’s customised to the individual, as mad as it sounds to me some even find solace in religion, and even hippie things. Some people even get better with medicines, though I am dubious, the other thing is – often there is no cure, often the problem is more the world than the one who finds it hard to live in.

We sometimes have an idea of what we should be and that idea is not realistic, so the more we try to be it the less comfortable we are, and that was me, for a long time.

In a time where guns, bitches and bling is what every one wants, I’m told, there are many of us who feel alien, I do, so much so I wonder if the ones in the grinning selfie aren’t like me in mine, acting.

I’ve learned to accept my inner reverse polarity, my love of the dark, I like things that others are repelled by, I think differently, I dance to something only I hear, sadly it took most of my life to work out that’s OK, that the others are probably the mad ones and that I do no harm turning up my nose, other than the wrinkles I will soon develop.

Write your own life, beat, if you’re a boy and you like pink good for you, at least you’re not boring. It’s the only way out of this swamp you know, to make a path.

Here’s a marching song for the journey.

“And sometimes when you’re on
You’re really fucking on”

Quitting

 

I stopped smoking about two months ago, I’m not allowed to say quit because it has negative connotations, not that I give a damn about that, but my doctor tells me that – well that people need positive affirmations about anything and everything now.

Quietly, in my mind I whisper fuck off in an ASMR kind of way because deep down I am the beast and I need to remember I am five foot nothing and weigh about as much as a decent back pack. I my plan to kill this patronising man will fail if I use my fists.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my doctor, he like many older men are my daddy fixation made flesh. I have no sexual interest in him but we can talk about my female parts critically, medically without me wondering if he’s dying for a feel. Which, yes I expect of most men, sorry but it’s true that’s what most women think, unless they have no self esteem at all – I imagine.

My inner dialogue prattles on about his fine nose and yes they are YSL glasses, funny, the brand – it’s not really high end fashion any more – is anything in this world? High end, as defined by my long lost matriarchs – mum and nan, this referred to things non-wealthy people couldn’t afford, now everyone is parading about in Chanel nothing is high end unless it’s say Burberry or other brands that set fire to excess stock…

He shoots me an “answer this” look and I replay his last line in my head –
“Really well, I just quit, I don’t actually feel like one at all – mostly.” I smile leaning forward slightly to end the inquisition by pinging his personal space “When I do I distract myself with something, by the time it’s done the want is gone.”

“If only you’d done this years ago…” He plays parent and I let that fall on its face without an answer or even a change of expression – was he parrying? Nice work Dr.

Sick, the nice word for it, which goes unsaid.

Fuck I feel like a cigarette now, but that’ll have to be a joint now that I’m not allowed nicotine, and nicotine gum is an ugly thing so pot it is. Cop out? To you maybe, to others, for me most of the time being stoned slows my mind to the pace of Mr & Mrs Average, the Smiths, the bystander – blow into this Ms…

I pay the $75 for the visit and wonder why the hell I pay for private health insurance seeing as everything ever costs me money to do with medicine. You’d think that I’d at least get my contraceptive implant for free but sex preparedness – even for the chaste (don’t laugh) costs money.

My car now smells new, still, after three years, this is the longest I’ve had a car, I’ve also never owned a non-German car. Should I change? No ash, no scraps of tobacco, there isn’t even a lighter in my car. What would I buy? I go off the idea as I no longer care about cars, it’s still quite a nice looking thing and its comfortable and my phone gets along pretty well with it.

I forgot to get crusty bread for my soup so I get out of the car and go to the IGA – I hate Coles, which is good IGA is closer. Outside people smoke, the ground has little rolling butts that fall into the gutter for dolphins and other sea life to choke on in the month it will take for them to make it into the bay. I instinctively go to the 12 items counter which sells cigarettes and almost ask for some.

“May I also have a packet of Tally-ho papers and some orange Ventti filters please?” She knows I’m going to make a joint, she gives me a slight grin, I wink at her, she and I do the – if I was queer look and wish each other a good day.

Women are better flirters than men, and mostly we are better in bed, it comes down to patience and the way women are bought up. Less expectations, a far greater need to please, that inbuilt masochism we all seem to have, it’s subservient but not the way you look down your male nose at it. Men equate that with something they abhor, which is why the see us as less, as a group.

22% less pay in the science sector. On sale, now, one mathematician, only slightly breasted.

I’m going to have a joint now, those of you that smoke both know that takes more will power not less.

Bonjour or Gute Nach, wherever your PC/Mac might be.