A long cold winter

In this longish hiatus from my posting on this site, I have thought much. Indeed, I'd go as far to say that a terribly lot of things have happened in my life. I've met all these people, done all these things, spent all this money.

None of that however is terribly interesting or entertaining. Not so much as those few little oddment bits of anecdotal strain events that have blotted the landscape in between the bigs and the grands, and filled in the modest gaps in my rather gappy life.

Firstly is my discovery that my new laptop underlines misspelt words in red, no matter what program I am in. After writing a facebook (which i shall come to later) wall post which resembled a suivre:

LOL thats massively kewl! LOLZ u rok girlf! LOL!

the squips of red rather disconcerted me. I reconsidered with a rather more conservative 'laugh out loud!'.

Secondly, my loss of ability to write anything remotely interesting, entertaining or witty such as to invite readers and potential publishers into my literary sphere. This has resulted in mass book collecting, writing everyday, in the hope that the loss is salvageable and not entire. Further such updates may ensue.

Three my newfound adoration of wordbuilding and making up words to suit the sounds I need, the descriptive morphology, phonology and orthography to establish that which I am trying to explain to whomsoever may be in the vicinity. This is perhaps not as fruitful as hoped, though these words are slowly seeping into my everyday vocabulary, thus further enriching and diversifying it. Three point five is my use of unnecessary or inappropriate words particularly adjectives in sentences.

Four, my complete failure in French. I think no more needs be said on this matter.

Fifth is my UNYA hackness and my apparently unquenchable desire to be consumed by UNYA in such a way as leaves no trace of my soul and but for my modest collection of stamps and Muse newspaper cuttings would all my remnants be lost. BKM better be appreciative.

Sixth is my unnerving desire to insure my new car, along with my echinaceal love of good health and painfreeuninterruptedmovement.

Seventh is my new addiction to facebook, the vice of the studying world, my foray into internet obsession and meandering thought trails. I feel journeyed alongside, shared and betrothed to a higher demon than those that tie me to facebook and not to my tortsbook. Alas this betrothal reminds me of brothel and thus eight.

Eight is unsurprisingly my desire to travel around WA. My WAphile status has long been knownst to myself, though to others it may serve as a reminder that I am slightly bizarre and off-kilter with the wants and desires of the contemporary Australian youth. That dirt just gets in your blood and courses through them veins, then you're suckered for good and can't think of nothing by saltbush, sandalwood, open horizons and lonely highway corners upon which one may meet a roadtrain. The minimalism and simplicity of it all has me virtually begging to be taken. TV programmes such as the circuit and a quick sojourn to Kalgoorlie neither helped nor abated this thirst.

Nine is my despisal for all things law related: employment, lectures, assignments, professors (bar Doug), Brenda McGivern (bless her), cases, tortsbook, laptop. Ouch. Don't shut down on me honey. You are also my gateway to outside world, I need.

Ten is the realisation that in order to avoid reading I will write an unnecessary list of things to entertain no one but myself. I think my blog is an empty alley, kind of lit by a light that keeps going out and then going white then going orange, a skip bin, high walls, odd smell. I skulk around here and kick around the grime for playtime things to do. Playlunch comes with the scurrying of feet.

Eleventh is my new love of wondering around, yes with an o, being only interested in things that interest me, coming to terms with people who don't like me (like you'd really waste time on that?) and my dislike of fibromyalgia.

For now c'est tout.