He's a Labrador retriever.

The aussie is so friendly to everyone. And everytime I think we're doing something as a pair, it turns out that it was a group invitation for the whole flat (e.g., asking me what I'm doing tomorrow My power of delusion is astounding. Now, if I could only control it so that I was deluded into believing that I deserve to land a job rather than if I can. Heh.

A common theme in poetry and writing is the inabiltiy of language to correctly express a situation. The problem is two fold: the imprecise nature of language, and that there are people invovled. I wish that writers would pay more attention to how people screw up everyday meaning in conversations and encounters, and that even without complex thought or language we are all stuck with the pipedreams in our head of how we want the world to be rather than how the world actually is.

Had a conversation with the Aussie flatmate about the blog last night, as I had let it slip that I write things about the flat on the blog. He should really be more afraid about I write after I'm out of the house, considering any novel I manage to get published will have a larger readership than the blog. Okay, I'm crossing my fingers on that one. That is if I don't manage to get the article done for Modern Love. We just won't tell him.

Actually, there are now two aussies in the house, but will be called the Aussie flatmate (as previously refered to in the past) and the other will be known as the Cook, because he's a chef (yum!).

I saw Crash on Thursday night. There are reasons why I want to watch it again, mostly the cinematography was just that good, and going frame by frame would be worth the effort. However, it was a movie which made me feel extremly uncomfortable. I often feel strange watching movies about America here, as this is the face which most people often see. That and whatever the news happens to mention, and a lot of that is Pres. Bush. I feel as if I have to either apologize, or even explain that no, this is not how things are. It's always the negative ones too.

Moving on.

In Crash I saw myself in two characters, the first being the young idealistic police officer, and the second being the upper middle class LA wife, who doesn't realise how lucky she is to have a maid that does everything for her. The first is where I am now, and I'm afraid that I'll turn into the kind of woman who lives in a big home, discussing shallowly deep things, and is unable to fathom that her accomplishments are really nothing and built upon the labour of others. Its a bleak picture isn't it.

Updates and other things

I think I have an interesting idea for the NYTime's Modern Love column. Then again, who doesn't have an interesting idea for the Modern Love (anyone?).

Well see if the people in charge actually get back to my e-mail (btw -- am I the only person who thinks that that column is the perfect one for revenge?).

It's World Cup time. I just don't care. The restaurant Harlem has an American flag out (go team USA!). But really, if all the England flags and stuff just make me roll my eyes. Don't know why, I spent four years smack in the middle of Red Sox Nation which should mean that I'm able to appreciate obsessive fan bases (and are any fans as obsessed at Red Sox fans? I think not!). Anyway, I think that while everyone else is watching the world cup, I'm going to be an internet cafe today (if only my computer was able to pick up a connection at home) listening to the Red Sox, because I'm a tad home sick for baseball.

Just downloaded the new Dresden Dolls album off of iTunes. First, when did they come out with a new album. Second, they were reviewed in Entertainment Weekly (yay), and the cd was out on the wall of new releases in London. Its awesome being able to watch something grow fairly big. But Shores of California is on this album, which has been one of my favorite songs by them (it's so bouncy!).

I finished a draft of a story today. Finally. Now start on the essay that I want to write for M.L, as well as work on Fairest, which I think could turn into a really good Y.A. book, or at least a good short story if nothing else (it's a bit more my normal screw up voice too, which I like).

Speaking of the NYTimes again, I find the most e-mailed and blogged lists fascinating. The most e-mailed tend to be features (right now it appears to be parents sending things to their children), while the blogs are the meaty political stuff. Speaking of which, there's a liberal bloggers convention ?!? I suppose that this makes perfect sense, at least to me. Just thought I would want to point it out.

Okay, last post for the day I swear!

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I would like to say that I love YouTube and would like to confess that I just purchased the ChickenDance off of Itunes. I have serious problems.

But silliness solves everything.

Woot

I missed this but was scrolling through BitchPhD today and found out that a California appeals court says that the First Admendment's freedom of the press applies to the the internet.

Hell ya.

From Salon.com Broadsheet

Congratulations, grad!

From biology to business to history to the social sciences, female students are now earning more degrees than men, according to new federal data published Thursday, the Associated Press reported.

The 379-page report, "The Condition of Education," a yearly compilation of federal stats about academia, also found that women now account for about half the enrollment in professional programs like law, medicine and optometry, up from just 22 percent merely a generation ago. In fields where women are still trailing men, they're also gaining ground, "earning larger numbers of degrees in math, physical sciences, and agriculture," the AP notes. The good news for women also provides further confirmation that men are falling behind in education, which Salon and others have covered.

Check out this Detroit Free Press headline on the same AP story about the new federal education data: "Women take over in fields once run by men." And, in case you missed it, the Detroit paper includes this helpful subhead: "They've taken over male fields." Not so fast. Right now, women are earning more degrees in these fields, not taking them over -- at least not yet.

And I still have the feeling that in 10 years women will be earning less then men, and aren't put in as many prestigious positions.

Bragging Rights

I wrote a poem yesterday. Okay, so it's really only a draft of a poem, and I'm still working on somethings. I think that it wants to be longer, but have to play around with it a bit.

Knives

The purpose of a knife is,
Using that sharp part
That blade should sink in
To flesh and slice away unity.

I am bad with knives.
I have many
My words, my looks,
My smile is a dagger.
But I only just cut myself.
These are dull weapons.



It's strange. I used to write a lot of poetry. Not all of it was crappy (it was good enough that my friends would post it as away messages, and one girl would keep asking me to send her a copy of one poem. Strangly enough, I don't have a copy of it with me, it's on Dante, my desktop back in the States), but nothing really amazing.

I've started writing poetry again. This is a small happiness, but a pleasant one.

I saw this on Making Light today:

The First Thirteen Presidents

From General George to Millard, all
Owned slaves, except for two:
Those Massachusetts liberals
John (senior) and John (Q.).

There are more, you should go look. Also check out her piece on the current cuts to funds alocated to protect NYC against terrorism. (Is the current administraton stupid? Hell yeah. My non-American friends dislike Bush, but they really don't have any idea at how bad of a President he is, at all.)

All's fair...

All's fair in love and war.

Pardon my ignorance, but what exactly does that mean? That in love and war anything goes, any behaviour is acceptable. It's the ends justify the means. Just as any means might be taken to win the war, a girl is allowed to do anything in order to get the guy.

However, there are rules to war. There has always been rules and codes and things that are just not done. If a city surrenders, it is protected, the invading army does not pillage and burn. It is only when a city fights back that it is destroyed. Prisoners of War are treated a certain way, civilians are treated a certain way. In the modern world, leaders of countries can be convicted for War Crimes.

There are also rules for love. There's the strange game of courting, the expectations of society. But often, when that maxim is used, it is used when people are in competition with each other for the same guy (or girl) as excuse bad behaviour. And in certain situations, there are no external rules and everything really is fair, but that rarely happens.

I short that maxim is a damn lie.

Wolves in the Walls and Squeeky Beds

Right now at the flat there is an almost love triangle.

I say almost because I'm pretty sure that the actual triangle part lasted for only a few hours, and as of last night it is most certainly not a triangle anymore, but a line segment and an unconnected point.

How do I explain this in nice simple, non judgemental terms? The flat's cast of characters have changed to include two French kids, a South African, a Swede, a Lithuanian and an Aussie. Now, I've been hanging out with the Aussie a lot in the past few weeks. Last weekend we ended up going to a movie, and hanging out together on Bank Holiday Monday. Its kind of safe to say that there's a connectiong between us, maybe just friends, maybe something more, but not the sort of thing that I want to fuck up by making assumptions and moving too damn fast (either as a more serious "romantic" relationship, or as a pretty darn good friendship).

Now, for the past week we've had a a guest appearance, a friend from back home. She's been here since Monday night, and has been more or less a wonderful house guest. She also gets along with the Aussie very well. At first I was just thinking, oh this is cool that my guest fits in really well here. Oh, how naive I was, since this girl is not the most subtle in the world when it comes to things like this (she was the one who abandoned me after a movie one night to go home with some kid).

Well, she's also never heard of one of the cardinal rules of being a girl -- you do not go after a boy your friend has already claimed, unless, maybe the boy shows interest in you (and you value the boy more than your friend). And, at least from my perspective, it look like it was she who was doing the persuing more than he. We walked home from a pub, she was hooked onto his arm. Me being me, the spineless wonder decides that fine, the game is up, and proceed to run into the wall of a few buildings because I have no sense of balance at times (oops). The Aussie wraps his other arm around me.

The assymetry continues when later, the aussie and I are on the couch, and my friend is on the bed/sofa next to him. She's holding his hand. I notice this, and notice that his other arm is on the back of the couch. I move away from him, because he's touching the back of my neck and I don't want to presume. But then he definatly makes it clear that that was intentional.

(And I'm just puzzled at wtf is going on).

I leave to go talk to the French boy who was in the kitchen listening to music, because there's only so much of being a third wheel which I can take (or not third wheel, I don't know).

We all decide to go to be. The Aussie's in the bathroom, and she's on the top bunk (where's she's been for most of the week). I stick my head in to see what's going on, and she asks me "are you okay with this" last night. What exactly was I going to say, no, I'm not okay, because I'm not sure what the hell is going on in the first place. In the second place is, it's a little too late to be asking that question now, if I had said yes, I really do mind, would she have cared?

I think I really should look into taking up acting.

Anyway, this morning I couldn't go to yoga because the class was full. I head back, do a ton of cleaning in the flat. She's up already. (I'm more annoyed because I need a break from people. This is the first time I've been by myself for a while.) But she doesn't say anything. Until later at breakfast when I'm tired of not talking, and refuse to ask her what exactly happened, she makes this comment: I hope that your flatmates don't find me too disturbing. The bed squeeks.

Until then, I was going to give them both the benefit of the doubt and just assumed that nothing happened. There was a reason why I didn't ask. I don't want or need that sort of information. But now, for me its incredibly awkward. This is my flat, this is my friend. How dare you come in and mess up the status quo!

I'm trying to justify everything in my head in her favour (including the lame excuse that I'm tall, blonde, and classically pretty, while she's not, and that it's good for her to "win" sometimes, except that it's a lame excuse, she's not a charity case), but it doesn't stop me from hurting.

And I'm awful in situations like this -- my response is to run away.

Hence why I'm here.