Merry Boxing Day!

I'm leaving! I'm off to Mildura for a holiday!! Woot! :) So if you're not seeing any posts from me until the 2nd or 3rd of January (ish), that is why. I'm attempting to water-ski for the first time which should prove to be an interesting exercise... Pictures of me falling and making ugly faces in the process will most likely eventuate.

Have to get up at 5am. Not so woot.

Had a dream last night that I thought was interesting (although I don't remember all of it now obviously) - I dreamt that I became very excited about writing a story about... *drum roll* a Ghost Worm. My dream mind was absolutely racing with the endless possible storylines and opportunities for character development. Maybe I'll have a think about it while I'm away and see what I can come up with. :)

As for my last post, that was just the gist of a story that I've been thinking about writing for a while now. And I agree Luke, it sounds very, very blurb-like. Didn't realise that until you pointed it out though. Hmm.

Time to rest my weary eyes.

Happy New Year to you all, and I hope your Christmas/Boxing Day activities were grand. By the way, if anyone could leave a comment explaining why Boxing Day is called Boxing Day for me to read when I get back and "ahhh" over, that would also be grand! Thanks. :)

Dale.

*Imagine...

Imagine that the world was ending and you were the only one who knew. No one would listen to you no matter how convincing you tried to be. No matter how much you cried, yelled, screamed. The more people you told, the more people you alienated yourself from. At what point would you stop trying to help everyone? At what point would you convince yourself that you’d done all you could? When would you start believing that the end of the world wouldn’t be so bad?

For Albert it was fifteen years.

For Annie it was two.

Then they met.

Last Day at School shirts

Off my door handle in my bedroom hang three shirts. One is from primary school, one from my first high school, one from my second. They're the ones signed by my friends with wishes for the future etc. Decided I'd look at them today to see if anyone was incredibly insightful or prophetic or funny. (I'm not going to write everything 'cause that would be boring).

Primary School - Most of these were just "good luck in 2000", but here are a couple of others:

"To Dale, Good Luck xxx Ryan" - the 'xxx' should have been a giveaway.
"Sex on 2000, Kila" - Pretty sure he meant "in" and left out "for himself". :)
"Good luck, go out with babes, Nicole" - another message to do with dating and stuff.
"To Dale, thax for dancing, [heart] Chrissy" - I vaguely remember a square dance...
"To Dale, Thanks for being such a good friend, Kyzar." - Still friends with Kiel today.
"Bart" - Simple, elegant, effective. Although maybe he just wanted my shirt (so he put his name on it).

High School #1 (end of year 9, and only one penis on it!!):

"Hey Dale, Wish you didn't have 2 go to knox but I guess u do! :( Well, I'm gonna miss u HEAPS! No one can giggle like u do! lol! [heart] always, Sahithi!" - That's right, I giggle with the best of them!
"Dale! ...I'll make a deal dun forget me & I'll neva forget chu! Bubbye casper! [heart] always, Stef" - I used to be pale (hence casper). Still haven't forgotten her, but haven't talked for ages either.
"...Don't forget me or our pact... Luv Savita" - a group of us left the school grounds one lunch time to Savita's house, which was just across the road, and wrote letters about what we were thinking and stuff at the time, and then sealed them and vowed not to open them for five years or something.
"Hey Dale, u don't know me much but have fun whereva ya go! [heart] Laurena" - *sigh* My Year 7 crush who crushed me with her rejection.
"...I'm writing here cuz this is where ur heart is! I luv u heaps and I'll miss you... (personable) Jesstacular xxox" - my girlfriend for the majority of year 9.
"Daeel - have good knox - Alan. P.S.....Yea." - still see Alan and my main circle of highvale friends every so often. :)

High School #2:

"Fatty" - I have no idea who wrote this and it's kinda doing my head in! (Just asked my bro and he says that it says "Tubby" and that he wrote it. Makes sense!)
"Dale, All the best mate. Thanks for Year 11. You'll do very well. David." - My legal studies teacher! He was really cool now that I think about it...
"Dale, Your a fantastic friend. Remember pizza day, lol :). Good luck for everything, I no you'll be brilliant, Karen." - planned a pizza day with Karen in my spares every Wednesday. Not exactly sure what it entailed besides eating pizza. Maybe pizza fights.
"It's ok we will be in America soon.... At the top [heart] Jim." & "cya in Cali when we are famous [heart] C8lin." - Was planning a Drake & Josh style tv show with Jamie and Caitlin. We were big dreamers, and I had the biggest crush on him that I almost believed it would happen. We were gonna meet all the actors from the OC and live in Californian mansions with nice cars.
"Hey sweeti, you'r real smart + if i dnt see you inventing sumthin 1 day i'll b angry! [heart] Sam xxx" - arguably the year's hottest girl. We had PE together. Yeah. :)
"get your P's so your misses don't have to drive u around. Jarryd." - I did get my Ps, but only after I'd broken up with Hayley. Oh well.
"Dear Dale, you made year 12 so much better, your such a great person, stay in touch. Paul" - still my favourite message.
"Dale, hit me up when you want to get beat at poker. Jase."
"Dale, when you become the next Bill Gates, I will be your assistant. Yui Chung." Either chung had a lot of faith in me or REALLY didn't want to be my assistant!
"Dear Doile, have enjoyed discussing our mothers together. Eat more beaver. Love Claire." - One of the most fascinating/out there girls I've met. She was really fun. :)
"Hey Dale, You've been my inspiration in English this year. You can do anything you set out to achieve. [heart] Cooper." - School captain, great girl.
"It's been great teaching you 'Rowdy'. Cozza." PE teacher. He made learning fun. And yes I was a little bit of a teacher's pet. Albeit a quiet teacher's pet.

There's a lot more but I would just be indulging in giving my ego even more of a boost by writing their kind words. It's sad that I only see a handful of these people any more. You should check if you have your last day at school shirts still. It's a good trip down memory lane. (And nice to read flattering things about yourself!)

As far as insights go... Not a lot. Just that people get sentimental looking back at things and tend to remember them differently than to how they felt at the time.

Dale.

Dale.

Taste Genes

I wish I blogged more. I really do! But I don't want to force it.

I had a really nice hot chocolate this morning, at the Coffee Club. Hot chocolate as I still haven't taken the step that normally comes by - if not before - adulthood: I haven't started drinking coffee. Or tea. Also beer. I was SURE that beer would grow on me, I really was. Dad likes it so much that I assumed a partialness to beer would be in my genes somewhere. Guess not. Oh and Dad's not an alcoholic, didn't mean for it to come across that way. Hi Mum! (If you're reading this.) Speaking of Mum, she drinks a decent quantity of coffee. In many forms. So much so that some of her friends have given her the nickname "Latte Liz". (Sorry Mum :)). Although maybe the caffiene quota that my genes crave is satisfied by Coke. As for the mystery of the beer, though, maybe it's a case for someone who has the time to do some research. My brother drinks a lot of it... and I look too much like both my parents to be adopted!

Beverages to food seems like a natural progression so let's do that!

I ate at a Mexican grill food place the other day. Yes, I forgot the name. :) It just opened up at Knox. My verdict: yum but could be cheaper. Food was well presented, although not a sombrero was to be seen. I'm still not sold on how authentically Mexican 'mexican chips' are, no matter how much peri-peri-like salt you put on them. The burrito I had itself was very nice though. My tastebuds were awakened to some new tastes. Mainly 'cause I get too embarrassed to ask for food "without this, this, this, oh and that too". Lime rice and coriander were what my tongue responded positively to I think.

As for dinner tonight, Dad was going to do a good old barbeque but it's raining now so I think that plan's been scratched.

Oh how forgetful of me! Luke cooked me a souvlaki kind of thing at his house the other night, and I didn't suffer any ill-effects. To the contrary I was very satisfied with it. All of the people who were waiting for a test-bunny kind of person to try Luke's cooking before they did, you can now not be afraid! Thanks Luke. (And you're welcome guys :P).

That's it from me. Gotta make my bed. Bed-making and general room upkeep also must have skipped my generation I think.

Dale.

Mind Piracy

Yay! On Thursday I bought the only CD that's release I've been excited about in recent times. Yeah, I paid money for it, and I physically bought it from an actual store (I use iTunes but don't buy iThings yet), because I'm not a pirate! It felt like the right thing to do since I was given this band's two previous CDs for free from my friends, and listened to each of them on high rotation. I'm listening it in right now. I had such high expectations that I think I was bound to be a little disappointed initially. Hoping it'll be a grower.

I was going to tell you the name but I suddenly feel playful and don't think I will just yet. Perhaps I'll hide some clues in here... No doubt I'll probably just reveal it in the comments because my clues are always way too subtle. Life Is Not A Waiting Room, you know? And Senses Fail sometimes... :)

Luke showed me a doco called Jesus Camp last night. And it's just too difficult not to blog about it. I'm not sure if you have secret blog-inspiring motives Luke, but I always seem to watch something interesting at your place that makes me feel like writing... Anyway, I'm not going to speak ill of religion because that's not my place. I will say that Jesus Camp, about evangelical Christians in the US imposing their beliefs onto their children, made me feel very thankful for the childhood I had. For having the opportunity to form my own opinions about the world and what I would stand for as being moral or right.

These kids were preached to over and over about giving their lives to Jesus Christ and creating an America that was consistent with their faith. It looked a lot like brainwashing, or mind piracy. From their speech patterns it was clear that they were just regurgitating what their heads had been filled with. Childhood should be carefree. Not filled with attending masses where without fail they'd cry for the sins of the world.

Perhaps the most scary thing that I learned from Jesus Camp was that some evangelical Christians' beliefs clash with democracy.

Driving home last night, listening to my new CD and contemplating freedom, I enjoyed thinking for myself. I don't know what I believe in really, when it comes to religion. I've always had a thing about re-incarnation, but that's another story. I guess I believe in free will and living in a way that you can be proud of yourself. And if you choose to believe in Big Foot, aliens, ghosts or... Peter Pan (shhh!) that's totally fine with me. :)

Dale.

They giveth and they taketh away...

I feel a little lost some days. My world has been changed, my routines interrupted. So far I am surviving, but it’s only day three. The unthinkable has happened: I am without Foxtel.

This means that I’m also without...

• Kyle XY and the incredibly ignorant Treger family
• “Dinosaur George” Blasing and the other imaginative palaeontologists of Jurassic Fight Club
• The pretty and scandalous youths of Gossip Girl
• Heidi Klum and the interesting fashion designers battling it out on Project Runway
• The deliciously competitive chefs of Top Chef
• The occasionally interest-piquing documentaries of the channels starting with 6
• A few other programs which I’m too ashamed to admit watching!

My parents decided to suspend our subscription for two months. So we still have the box and the remote, but it doesn’t work. Even if you try tricking it into working... The timing of their decision was interesting; my final university commitment for the year had been handed in just two days prior. I’m yet to ascertain whether this is a blessing in disguise, but I have a hunch that it may be.

So far the short-term side effects include an increase in aimless confused wandering about the house, increased internet use, increased novel reading, and increased addiction to Warhammer. Hopefully the long-term side effects will include less aimless confused wandering and more activation of my imagination. A chance to do some serious reading, write that spec script or pilot, or continue Mehico. Not to mention increased exercising and socialising!

So goodbye, Foxtel. Please stop beckoning to me alluringly from beneath the TV...

Dale.

A woman has won my heart

She is blonde.
She is lithe.
And she is Elvish...

She is Valeina, my character on Warhammer Online.
Ain't she just the prettiest?


Lara Croft can go polish her lame guns somewhere else as far as I'm concerned!

You should totally check out the cinematic trailer for the game to see the character Valeina's based on. She has the most awesomest fight scene I reckon. This sentence will take you there.

The trailer explains it, but basically there are three races and each are in the midst of war. The good guys from each race have united under Order, and the baddies under Destruction. The races are men, dwarves and elves.

Valeina is a Shadow Warrior (and of course fighting for Order). She'll shoot you with her arrows from afar or slash you with her sword up close. So don't mess with her!

The game really feels more like a very long interactive movie.

The only computer game I've ever really come close to being nerdily obsessed over before is The Sims (1 and 2), so this has taken me by surprise. Warhammer is an MMO - see, I'm already talking the lingo - but it is much more than that too. A lot of the time you're completing missions by yourself in more traditonal RPG style. The aim is to go around each of the maps, or tiers, completing missions to advance the hopes of Order, while gaining all the experience you can. Because with experience comes new abilities and tactics. Each ability is really, really cool and not just a simple "Pikachu - Thunderbolt!" kind of effect. There are abilities that damage over time, restrict movement, decrease stats, regenerate action points, etc etc. I think the main thing is that they look really cool when you do them. :)

The multiplayer side of the game comes into play primarily for RvR (Realm vs Realm) scenarios. You fight alongside people playing as elves, dwarves and humans, against other people the dark elves, greenskins and chaos marauders. A lot of the time it's a "capture the flag" kind of deal. But each of the scenarios are really well-crafted. They're just cool!
Public Quests are also multiplayer situations. You work together with a Party of other players to acheive feats that are way too hard to do by yourself. For these you gain influence points... and I've just realised how boring this might be sounding to the "unobsessed". Sorry, I'll stop!

I just thought that since I hadn't blogged for a while, partly due to playing/watching Warhammer at Brenton's, it would be a good way to get started again. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, and for this!

I'm happy to be back though.

Dale.

The End of Voyeur

Part One - Brian

I clung, I dug in my nails, but that just drove him away. I tried to be normal, to act cool, but it was too late. I couldn’t act in the face of losing what my whole life revolved around. It was too hard. Desperation conquered me.

It was all that whore Debra’s fault. She was the wedge. She should have just stayed away. I warned her plenty. She didn’t listen, so she paid for it.

Then Tommy, the betrayer, gets in my face and hits me. Why couldn’t he see that I needed him more than Debra ever could? That what we had was important. It all got too much. I hit him back. We bled. He could have killed me, he stood over me with a baseball bat. He should have. It would have been an act of mercy. I couldn’t live alone.

I had a... a bro–...

He was important, you know? Everything... Lost. Fuck!

I’d lived with no guilt. Just his bloody clock to remind me–

Now I can’t even look at it. He’d be so ashamed. I didn’t...

I just didn’t.

And I’m not going to. Ever.

Cos this is it.

Hollywood

Out of fear of not posting for a month, here's a scence from my short script that has many a lacklustre working title.

*

The video CUTS TO:

INT. KYLE'S BEDROOM, DAY.

Kyle is sitting on his desk chair and leaning forward. He tenses his biceps for a second and laughs.

KYLE (to camera)

So those are two of my exercise tips. I feel like I could lift a horse. Well maybe not a horse. Perhaps a pony. A small baby pony... Good luck to you all in your exercising endeavours. And remember to tell your friends ‘bout me. Catch.

As the video ends the camera zooms into the computer screen and EMERGES WITHIN:

INT. KYLE'S BEDROOM, DAY.

Kyle is sitting silently, staring into space. He shuts down his computer and looks at a photo frame also on his desk. It shows a picture of Kyle with his arm around the shoulder of a younger teenager boy. He sighs.

Kyle gets up and walks over to his wall calendar, where he puts a tick next to “99^th video blog” within the 10^th square of March. Within the 12^th square of March is simply written “One Year”.

His name might be Kyle...

He wears knee high socks (sometimes).
He's lanky.
He likes dried apricots.
His elbows crack.
His best friend was a fish.
He has a vast collection of hoodies.
He can play piano but can't listen to classical music.
He volunteers at the local hospital.
His eyes are usually blue, green or brown.
He moves with the grace of a baby giraffe.
He wants to control the way people see him.
He wants you to subscribe.

He might be dying.
He might be supressing.
He might be falling.

I can't decide...

***

Just figuring out which characteristics I like for the main character of my short script assignment. If there are one or two that you respond to more than others it would be helpful if you could let me know. At the moment I can't figure out what predominant flaw to give to him.

Sorry for the not very post-like post. Soon people, soon.

Thanks,

Dale.

Dale's Prophecy

I was thinking the other day (kind of inspired by Heroes and Kyle XY), about why humans only use about 10% of their brains. Now I'm no neurosurgeon, and could probably look this information up, but at the moment I prefer my own, unanswered ponderings...

Does everyone use the exact same parts of their brain to constitute the 10%? Have there been medically documented exceptions? Are there variations within the 10% between different people? If so, are there correlations between occupation and areas of brain activity? Or even culture or class?

I guess I've also been thinking about free will versus determinism lately too (and wondering if the process of which is something I've been genetically programmed to do). See, this is what happens when I only go to a handful of psychology lectures and pick up a mish-mash of information!

The very unscientific conclusion I came to was that if we had too much brain activity our circuits would overload on an excess of information. Maybe with evolution we'll use more and more of our brains. But at the rate humans are evolving, we'll have to wait many thousands of years to see if that eventuates. You can call it my prophecy if you'd like. Note how hard it is to disprove. :)

No doubt I shall be mulling this over as I prowl the aisles at Coles tonight. If I come up with any more thoughts on this I'll put them in the comments section. Am thinking I'll question the whole superpowers/increased brain activity idea.

Thanks for hearing my thoughts... I'll invite you back into my brain soon, but for now please leave my head.

Dale.

A flashback...

On New Year’s Eve 1999 my blonde hair was streaked with blue and I was dripping. I was also somewhat anxious. I didn’t completely understand it, but I could pick up on the building anxiety of my parents and their friends as midnight beckoned ever closer. There was a hint of it behind their eyes when they smiled. It became harder to detect as empty wine bottles began to spring up all over the place, but it was still there. I wasn’t watching them all night, though. For most of the Eve I was busy trying to impress Amanda and Kelly by bagging/wrestling/competing with my younger brother Mark. It was fun and at the time it was all that really mattered to me. Next year I’d start school, become a teenager and get a Nintendo 64 – I knew these things, Y2K didn’t factor. Still, that night, for the first time in my life, I didn’t sleep.

We got to the Reed’s house at 6.30 for dinner. I probably ate some sausages and picked at my salad in a picky way. Mark probably did so in a lamer way. Kelly always made sure our drinks were refreshed. She was a really good host like that. In terms of monitoring our sugar intake on the other hand... Maybe not as good. Mark and I drank a fair amount of coke at the Reed’s place.

Upstairs the TV was always on. The four of us sat infront of it for a while, either playing car racing games or watching DVDs. We caught an erotic scene of an SBS movie late one night which was incredibly awkward. Mark probably didn’t get it though. The box helped pass the time somewhat, it must’ve been about 10.30 by the time we’d become sick of it (for the second time). We tried our hand at pool – Mark and Amanda v Kelly and I – but I don’t think we finished the game. Probably fluked three balls in over half an hour.

A tall person approached with blue hairspray so we grabbed towels and raced outside. Moments later I was looking at myself in a reflective window, thinking that blue really was more becoming on me than it was on Mark. Next we jumped in the spa. We played a game where one person hid two small discs somewhere in the spa and the person who didn’t find one lost. That person had to grab a nearby saucepan and wooden spoon (I’m not sure why they were nearby) and bang the two together as they walked a lap around the decking proclaiming that they were a loser.

We jumped out of the spa as adults approached with sparklers and party poppers.

FIVE! (Gee it’s cold...)

FOUR! (Hey Mark’s making a cool pattern with his sparkler. I should do a better one...)

THREE! (Dad looks really drunk...)

TWO! (I wonder if a plane will fall on us?)

ONE! (Is Amanda looking at me? Ooh, she is! Better smile)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A couple of party poppers hesitantly popped and everyone paused. Nothing. Then: clonk! clonk! clonk! “Daaaaale’s a loserrrr, he smells baaaad”. Mark had gotten the saucepan and wooden spoon and was marching about like a drummer boy. And he was outplaying me. Touche Mark, touche, I probably thought. Amongst other things.

Eventually everyone got tired and found places to sleep. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I could put it down to deep contemplation about what might have happened, or I could put it down to drinking too much coke. Either way, I thought a lot that night. A lot of it was “this sucks, why am I not sleeping?”, but that wasn’t all. I think it was the first time that I took stock of where my life was at.

I’m glad it happened after the activity and general fun-ness of the night though. Kids that age shouldn’t have to think like that, they’d miss out on too much if they did.

Anyway, that was the night of December 31, 1999. When the world waited with baited breath and I was a kid with blue hair.

On January 1, 2000, I did a fair bit of sleeping.

Dale.

The Troupe

I’m trying to remember my dreams (see two posts ago) for my scriptwriting subject at uni. Well, I haven’t been writing them down but one has stuck with me for its sheer oddness. You know how that happens every now and then? You get that one dream that makes you go “huh?” and consider the possibility that your subconscious could somehow be experimenting with recreational drugs? I had one of those.

In my mind’s eye (sidenote – why do minds only have one eye? Why can’t they have two like us? What if the circumstances arose that they would require depth perception? Our minds would be screwed!) I’m walking down a downward sloping alley in a metropolitan area with a group of about twelve to fifteen people. These people are a mish-mash of people from school and a handful of friends. I’m not sure what we’re doing in the city or where we’re headed, but for whatever reason everyone seems enthusiastic and energetic. I can’t rule out that there wasn’t high five-ing and that playful kind of gentle shoving. It all seemed very slow motion and music video-ish (with no music).

I’m at the head of the group as we approach the end of the alley of friendly pushing when something catches my eye and I get an idea. What I see is a big empty room that would normally be closed off by a really wide roller door. The room is bare but for what looks like a row of changing room stalls along the back wall. The heights of each door vary, but dream Dale doesn’t notice that. He’s too busy enjoying slinking into the room, kind of dancing his way towards one of the stalls. The others watch for a second before cottoning on to his fantastic idea and dancing their way into the room too. Before long each of the stalls contain people flailing their arms around, jumping up and down, making dancing facial expressions and having the times of their lives. There are a throng of people, who couldn’t fit in the now crowded stalls, dancing in front of them too. By this stage music has mysteriously filled the air, as if brought on by the impromptu dancing.

That continued for a while before eventually the music died out and people started to make their way out of the strange room. High five-ing and chest bumping etc definitely happened as everyone was exiting, and I turned to the nearest group of people with a sudden revelation:

“We can be called the Parma Dancers!”

It made sense to those people, but I’m now stupefied about where it came from. I don’t think we in any way were dancing like parmigianas or in tribute to them. Because how and why would you do that? I’m pretty sure it’s not possible (but I would love for someone to prove otherwise!).

Anyway, that was my dream. Any psychoanalysts feel free to go to town on it. :)

Dale.

You’re only turn 21 once, but you can have your party whenever you want.

The air had energy that day, I could sense it as I peered out the drive thru window at McDonalds, before hurriedly closing it as the rain figured out a way to slant diagonally under the eaves of the roof and wet me. So energy-full was the air that the rain was cunning and in cahoots with the wind. It was a good thing though; the day had a feeling about it. The stresses of my poorly organised 21^st celebration were fading and I began to look forward to the evening ahead.

I raced home after my shift and remembered that people like food. So I drove to the shops and picked up various bags of chips. Then I remembered that people also like alcohol. So I chose what I thought was enough of the most commonly favoured type of alcohol (other than beer) from the land of liquor called Liquorland. I knew I shouldn’t have looked at my watch but I did, and it was less than an hour until people would start arriving at my house. My stress hadn’t completely subsided after all, either that or it just got tired for a little and had mustered up some more energy – it was just my luck that my stress had regenerative capabilities . I drove home wishing I had Dad’s Enya CD with me.

Got home, got organised, had my brother straighten my hair (because I thought it was customary...), received my guests, and felt a conquering wave of relaxation as drink slid down throats and those who didn’t know each other mingled fantastically. I could almost see the vibrations of energy in the air around us. Or there was some imbalance of chemicals in my brain... Nevertheless I soaked up the atmosphere; it wasn’t often that I had large groups of people at my house. I had been kind of paranoid that if I ever did everyone would get bored, leave and never want to come back. Not sure where that stemmed from.

The maxi-taxi arrived and we clambered in. The driver was an enthusiastic Asian (I think Thai) man with good English and knowledge of the city. We did sit at the first set of traffic lights we got to for a few cycles (he made a late decision to turn and wasn’t triggering the sensor to let the traffic lights know we were there) but after that there were no problems. He was nice enough to stop the meter upon getting hasty instructions to pull over as some of us relieved ourselves.

The Elephant & Wheelbarrow was written across the side of a pub-looking building so we de-taxied. It was 9.30, and it was relatively busy. There were no other familiar faces awaiting us, and I was glad that I hadn’t forced anyone to wait around. I’d never been to the place before, so I quickly sussed it out. Typical pub: booths, stools, bar, TV’s, music. Stairs... The stairs went up to a fairly large dancefloor, stage, and second bar (I think – didn’t spend that much time up there. Well, that and my memory is a little fuzzy!) The second floor added that element that I was after. It was there for the people who didn’t feel like listening to traditional pub music.

As the other people who had been invited started to arrive, the crowd thankfully began to get a bit younger. The inter-group mingling amongst my friends continued and I was very happy to see it. I never ran out of drinks and was very thankful to see that. I felt a warmth (no not from the alcohol) of being surrounded by all the people who gift me with their friendship. That they made the effort to be there and celebrate with me, that they were doing their utmost to make sure I was having a great time... It was just an incredible feeling. I hope each of them know how grateful I am.

I remember a woman, probably 30, coming over to a group of three of us sitting at a table proffering her success and the business opportunities at her company. I wondered how stupid/drunk we looked if she even thought she had a chance of getting us to jump at her “opportunity”. To her credit she quoted a website, and I thought that was quite a clever little detail. Who knows, maybe she was legit. Maybe right now I could be pretentiously nibbling on caviar and then turning away so no one would see me cringe with disgust. Somehow I doubt it.

More importantly I remember someone’s behaviour being an attraction within itself, I remember being so happy that someone in particular was there with me, I remember smiles, I remember abandoning a kindly-bought beer, I remember some really interesting grammar stories, I remember someone being a saviour, I remember laughing, and I remember not having a care in the world.

Eventually, people began to have their fill of dancing/drinking/talking and started heading home. I endeavoured to say a decent goodbye to all of them. When the time came that I left, I couldn’t have been more content with the evening. It took two months and one day longer than expected for my 21^st party to happen, but it couldn’t have turned out any better.

Dale.

Boo :P

It's time for a post I think. Read through some of my older ones and was happy to be amused by them. I like when I like my writing, even after time transpires and I learn new techniques and stuff. It's probably the posts about me and my various activities that I like the most - well, the tone and tangents within them. That kind of stream of conciousness writing is probably the most fun for me. And if that means I have to write about myself for the rest of my life then so be it! :) No, I'm not for serious. But I do think that writing about things close to home helps in other writing endeavours, and therefore, well, I'm sorry but you poor people who (kindly) read this may have to put up with some more for a little.

Does anyone keep a dream journal? It's one of the things I'm supposed to do for my course this semester. I have very zany dreams sometimes, and manage to dream up very random stories, why I haven't used them as a source of inspiration is beyond me. They certainly are emotive enough every now and then. I've been trying to have a "falling" dream for a while now. Used to have them when I was in primary school and I remember the feeling of falling from a cliff - there was very little fear as I plunged down into the unknown. A release, sort of. If I ever made it all the way to the bottom of my fall before waking there would always be a trampoline, which I would bounce exhilaratingly high off of, and then come down and wake up. I'd never get hurt or be scared.

I'm doing scriptwriting this semester (a dedicated unit this time) and I'm very interested to see where it takes me - what I learn about my writing from how I go in it. I've always thought that novels and short stories in print would be my strength, but love the idea that I could become adept at writing scripts too (screen or theatre - but most likely screen. :) plays/musicals would be a tad hard for me to envisage I think). We also learn about pitching and stuff, so if I pick up any handy hints I shall let those talented scripty people who might be interested know.

I'm REALLY interested in that piece I wrote a little while back about the two school kids in Mexico with those wonderfully enigmatic plans for destruction at the moment. My mind keeps going back to it. I think maybe that might have been a wiser choice of story to explore. I'm not giving up though.

Yikes, gotta get ready for uni! I'm supposed to be having the "best parma in Melbourne" tonight with Kiel. I shall be forthcoming with information about whether I tastebud-gasmed or similar. :)

Oh and I MUST write about my 21st next time.

Til then, everyone keep writing!

Dale.

Oh the serenity.

I do bid you to forgive me... But my lack of posting has been due to the fact that I... I... I’ve been away! Not ‘away’ like ‘in the slammer’ but ‘away’ like ‘on a holiday, man’. Went to Waratah Bay near Wilson’s Prom with Brenton and it was a really great trip. Stayed in an A-frame house and managed to walk into the roof a couple of times (because technically the walls and the roof are the same thing right? Unless you’d only call the top point of the A the roof but that would silly and make it less possible to say things like “I managed to walk into the roof a couple times”). Got there with the help of Karen (my GPS device who mispronounces words and gets a little confused on the more rural highways – either that or she really doesn’t like us and would have us plunge headfirst down the sides of mountains where she “thought” there were roads... I think she just has a sense of humour though).

Wilson’s Prom was really beautiful. We took the track to the top of Mount Oberon and the views were really stunning – I even managed to take my eyes off Brenton for a couple of seconds. :) Anyway, we took lots of photos (of which he’s not allowed to delete any...) and I won’t be forgetting any of it at least until dementia sets in.

This coming Sunday I’m going to Queensland with my family, and get back on Thursday. So there may be a lapse in blogging again. Although I will be taking my laptop so it could be a good time for some writing to take place. And theme-parking. :) We’ll see!

Oh and this Friday (a mere two months and one day since my birthday) is my 21^st. Reports on this celebration may be vague... So be there if you want more accurate details. :)

Dale.

My Story-Blog (Official Announcement)

It's pretty much been splashed across the headlines of every newspaper in Victoria, but the project entitled "Creepy Lamingtons" is, in fact, a story-blog a la Ashton X. It's called Voyeur.

I wanted to get a few entries done before I went public lol. I hope you all give it a go - any feedback would be awesome.

http://thevoyeurstory.blogspot.com

In other news, the title 'Creepy Lamingtons' has inspired a short story by Luke (the very author of Ashton X). It has a killer twist and I highly recommend it.

http://creepylamingtons.blogspot.com

"Normal" entries will resume on here shortly, but until then - check out dem links ya'll! [Which reminds me - I actually heard someone say "youse", as in the plural version of you, lately. It was... an experience. Maybe more on this issue later].

Thanks,

Dale.

Creepy Lamingtons

The something's been started...
And soon it will be linked to...
I couldn't resist not keeping it secret!

Dale.

Condition

I am the President of the United States. My influence is limited. My position is an incredible burden. Am I more than figurehead? I am the Pope. My life is structure. I am a vehicle for the faith of countless believers. Do I have a voice? I am a celebrity. I am lampooned, scrutinised. Image is my life. Actions determine my ascension and downfall. People want me to falter. Am I living for me? I am a war hero; a hero for killing people. My patriotism is never questioned. How will I be remembered?

Thank you, Jamaica Kincaid

When Nobody's Watching
by Me.

"Have you seen anything like this before?"
"No... I can't, I can't say I have."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What now?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
"You're... I delegated, it's proactive."
"Well I re-delegate it back to you!"
"You can't."
"Says who?"
"Says... Just says, ok? Where's your sense of urgency?"
"I deal with this sort of stuff all the time."
"You've watched three episodes of X Files and Men in Black 2."
"It's enough. Do you see projectile vomit?"
"Touch it then. Go on."
"And get my DNA on it? Nice try."
"Paranoid. Just take the picture so we can go. I try playing with you but you're no fun."
"I still don't know why you want this."
"There are a lot of things you don't know."
"You really think this'll change everything?"
"Anarchy, my compadre. And it shall be our hombre. I'm being proactive."
"Alright, got it. Zip it up and let's go."
"It'll be years from now but it'll be worth it."
"I know, I know, 'The face of the world changed by a young visionary'."
"They don't make Grand Plans like they used to. And this one's been broiling for years."
"Wait... Did you...? Your uncle... Broiling?"
"Come on, let's kick this place."
"How could you have possibly...?"
"It's not exactly Airforce One. Yet. Here, put this on."
"A sombrero?"
"Figured we'd try to re-enter our great nation the fun way."
"By donkey?"
"How much Spanish do you know?"
"Mi amo es... Should I ask how you knew about these tunnels?"
"There should be one of those trucks around here somewhere. Just look for the one exuding fear and anxiousness."
"I'd say you were completely off your nut but... No, you are completely off your nut."
"'President's nephew caught riding with illegals' - nice ring to it don't you think?"
"Part of the plan?"
"Nah, just fun. Now put your sombrero on. We've got a great big ignorant country to deceive."
"I better make it to school tomorrow..."

Two Objects and the Space Between Them

1. It was too hot to wear on my wrist so I detached it and put it on the table before me. It left an imprint on my skin, I noticed, which was now cooling off. I look at it; silver and blue, mostly, with luminescent glow-in-the-dark indicators. It didn't seem like three o'clock, but it rarely lied to me. And it wouldn't surprise me if time had escaped under its watch. My watch's watch.
2. It was a little smudged - surely not by my fingers though - and there were tiny specks of white clustered toward the basin side of it; escapee spittle from tooth-brushing. I ponder why I take pictures of myself in front of it. The sight I see is never the same as what my camera produces; never as pleasing anyway.
3. I stop watching my watch and I'm 21. I stop looking at myself in the mirror and my hair grows, or I have a pimple somewhere new, or I need to shave again. I can't be doing both at the same time; I shouldn't be hung up on doing either. They are different ways of blinding myself. Time is infinite, just not for me. I will have a physical form, just not forever, or one I will always be conscious of...
   

Inspired by "The Monkey's Mask"

Wrote it last year at uni, for no particular reason. Was just bored, and I should have posted it on here then, but meh. This is something only one other person has seen. Let's see if he remembers... :P

Untitled

It's tearing at my innards
A rake's sharpened prongs clawing every surface
The rash worsens with every dig into my skin
Conscience
Get off! Go away!

Like a vampire - without a soul
No guilt, no remorse
Nothing to fear from oneself
A life without looming consequences
Or nagging thoughts
Or doubt

It used to be fuzzy
Just cold now
Coldness in every face
All seem to know - to chastise with eyes of scorn
Revert, revert, revert!
It's flimsy

A mental voyage completely
To the depths, the recesses
Probing down narrow
Peripherals disregarded
Blind to chasing light from above
Selectively unselectively blind

There is not a real me
Core values?
Faithful disintegration?
It will all go undocumented by the world
Tragedy spurns

Because quietly I'll fall -
You didn't see that coming
Neither did my old I's
Get some perspective!
Gosh.
Awaken from ignorance
Breathe


Dale.

Some stuff I had to write for Uni.

These are two examples of "free writing" which we're being encouraged to do in my fiction writing class. The first one was associated with a text message from someone else's phone, the second was inspired by a drawing by a Japanese artist whose name I can't recall. It wasn't Yoshi or anything though - I would have remembered that. It depicted a relatively small wooden boat in the midst of great, over-arching waves (with a mountain in the background which I didn't have time to work in to my story...)
Anyway, here's the first one.

"Ah, the bane of my highschool existence..."

It haunts me still. The days that dragged on longer than any elastic band could stretch; the all-consuming boredom of learning about chlorafil; the politics and ridiculous pecking orders that left many the aspiring bird wingless and completely without inventive metaphors*. Yes, it was not long ago, but it seems like a fuzzy blur of mundane somethingness. It was a time before now, but after before... It was highschool.

That's where I was when I ran out of time.
Here's the next one.

He was lucky to have survived this long anyway. The years of scouring the ocean for his fishy livelihood had been pockmarked by hints of his good fortunate coming to an end. He looked across at his friends, tugging desperately at the oars, oblivious to the hopelessness of it all. The waves towered over them and each blow against the stern of their insignificant vessel knocked them about with increasing veracity. Even clinging on wouldn't save them now. He knew that the death of his boat was imminent too. Already there were cracks in the hull; it wouldn't hold together much longer before it was smashed apart entirely. He looked to the sky and there he saw an angel. He knew he would be alright.

And that's when I ran out of time for that one...
The angel** in the sky was because there was a cloud that looked person-shaped. Actually, I'll try and find the picture... *google image search* I found it... But it looks a bit different. Think it was reversed too. Ah well, here it is.


And that's it for now. Just thought I'd share a little. :)

Thanks for letting me,

Dale.

* "completely without inventive metaphors" inspired by something Luke wrote once... Don't get your lawyers on me!
** not sure if angels are prominent in Japanese culture, but it's free writing so it can't be completely error free!

"And we've got everybody singing..."

I may not be a music aficionado (thank you spellcheck) or have any musical talent (I tried learning guitar once... It didn't take), but music is really important to me. A song or album comes along every now and then that kind of elevates my mood and makes me feel more in touch with stuff. Some music gives me confidence, it inspires me. Other music I associate with a time or an event and I'm jolted back to my emotional state at that time. Music helps me study, helps fill in time, and even helps me write. A lot of what I have written has been the result of a clever lyric or an infectious sounding chorus drawing words out of me. Who needs therapy! If I feel like I need to have a healthy cry (who doesn't?) I'll put on "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, "Silence" by Sarah McLachlan, or "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. Other music I just get excited about listening to. If I'm not at home/don't have access to my ipod or computer or CD player or car stereo I seriously look forward to hearing a song or series of songs that I'm growing to really like.

*interrupted by dinner and socialising*

So that ends that. Could probably have been summed up by a simple statement such as: "Music is profoundly important to me". But where's the fun in that?

Dale.

Listening to:

The Audition - "Dance Halls Turn to Ghost Towns"

Who is it tonight, Doctor Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?

The bookshelf spins,
when I pull the Websters from the third row,
second from the right,
and this is where the chemicals grow,
this is where reactions flow,
the dictionary chemical cookbook was meant to hook you into me.

Would you please take off your lab coat, kiss me as we roll through every chemical.
Would you please put on your dance shoes? 'Cause I'm sick of dancin' alone.

Who is it tonight, Doctor Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?

Two hints lust, then I mix some charm with a dash of wits.
Add some good looks and then, close the door and dim the lights.
(This will finally be the night)
where the dictionary chemical cookbook will finally hook you into me.
...

i am aware they're only birds

We've had them for seven years. Buddy & Holly. Lovebirds. Quite charismatic little winged-things. They grew, we watched. They did stuff, we loved them for it. They woke us up in the mornings, but we didn't care. They conducted a cage-break, and for three minutes they were wild. They decided their little home was more for them, we rejoiced. They laid eggs, but had no luck - between you and me I think they were both male. They got sick, we worried. They recovered, we saluted their combined strength. They loved each other, and we were touched. Then Buddy died. I got teary. Mum got teary. Mark went quiet.

He had a good life. But I still wonder whether he'd have like to be set free so he could fly distances and heights and just go where he wanted. See more of the world. Fly with other birds. I know he wouldn't last long by himself. Perhaps it was knowing his cruel fate (death by predator) that stopped me. There's always Holly... I wonder how long she'll last without her life partner. I wonder if she feels the loneliness. She must...



RIP Buddy, thanks for being such a cool bird (you were always my favourite).

Dale.

Popping Pills and Wavering Confidence

I'm on medication. It's for a skin disease kind of thing. Doesn't seem to be helping much, I don't quite trust my doctor anymore. I find out on Monday what the lab has to say about the sample the doctor sent away. I got proactive (with the help of my second mum), but not the Vanessa Williams infomercial acne cream. I bought something topical and stuff for what I thought the problem was. It's early days but I think it's helping. The rash is in most places. Predominantly on my face and neck, but semi-large scabby things have formed on my arms and legs too. It makes me insecure. On my cheeks I struggle to feel normal skin, my forehead's almost the same. I wear collared shirts and hooded jumpers to conceal my neck as best as possible, and shorts are pretty much out of the question. It makes me angry.

I'm not sure how it started and I hate that it's just come from nowhere. I've had to work the last three days in a row and I see the way people look at me when I serve them and don't like it much. But that's when I'm in a negative mood about it. Now I'm learning to be positive about the situation. Putting it into perspective, it's not such a big deal. So what if I get looks, what does it really matter? I'm not gonna let something small like this stop me from living and doing the things I normally do. I think this is going to be good for me. Whilst it's going away slowly, I think I'll have it for a little while yet, and it might teach me a lesson about appearance and confidence. For me the two may have been a little too closely related. So I'll end this now on a high note before my volatile mood makes me slightly depressed about it again... Good can come from this. As long as I'm smiling it doesn't matter what I look like.

Until you see me next, you've been warned so don't recoil upon the visage of my face and stuff. :P

Dale.

"Only you can't drink photos."

The last thing I wrote began with a description of a resilient ant. It was happening before me and it helped me get started. It loosed my mind and the words flowed out onto the page. The immediate external environment inspired me. It never used to be so. I used to be able to call to mind an issue that was in the news, or (more frequently) something that had happened to me or affected me in some way. More of a mental thing. I’ve written this before, just in other words. I need to focus because my writing mind seems thick with a dense, foggy-like fog. I need to “re-ignite the passion” (said with South American accent). I need to stop thinking in clichés!

I wrote in my little black book while I was away at Rye. And no, my little black book doesn’t contain any dirty secrets, it just so happens that my notebook is smallish and the complete opposite of white. So there’s no point in trying to steal it for purposes like blackmail or popularity-inducing gossip. Because I know that’s what you were thinking. Besides, I keep it in a wooden box with a padlock on it, so you’d need bolt-cutters to get into that box. And procuring those would require effort and planning and we both know it’s not worth it. Unless I’m just pretending to keep my little black book containing no secrets in the aforementioned wooden box with padlock.

Game, set, and match. :)

Dale.

"I'm just going through and doing them all."

Thanks kindly commenteers for all your... encouragement. Like the Mouseketeers you have stirred me into action. Albeit a slightly different kind of action, with fewer embarrassing aspirations... Here's the stock-standard silly excuse for not posting:
"I was really waiting until my last post had 10 interesting comments but I figure Luke's one makes up for at least three. :P
And Luke's imagining of my day was actually eerily close to the truth. Except for the part about Brenton and I looking for defenseless animals to beat up. Although we did see a cat with a tumor whose appearance was kind of comical. But I didn't laugh. I was too focussed on how I was going to win our race.

Okay, I guess I should explain that one. It was late, we'd been eating Party Mix, and were feeling particularly spritely. One thing led to another and the outcome was a 100m dash at the park right near his house. Had I been wearing the right footwear and concentrated on my technique I would have won. Or alternatively, if Brenton hadn't had a ginormous head-start I would have won also. :P

So what have I been doing? A lot of small-ish things really. Aside from still working at McDonalds (which goes 24 hours this week. Interestingly I think I've finally earned enough respect not to be given the more unfavourable shifts, so that's good.) and being completely head over heels I have...

Ice skated at NewQuay (the Docklands), which was really fun. It was my first time and I didn't fall over!! There's even video footage of my grace and poise and general goodness at being a pro ice-skater. [Thank you to all my friends who had countless birthday parties at Rollerama in Primary School. :)] I want to go again soon. I think there's an ice-rink in Oakleigh? Anyway, that was part of a spectacular evening involving impressive attire, revisited beginnings, fine food, a flower, a note, and unbeatable company.

Been doing the 1000 steps about two times a week, and playing tennis with my brother (I'm up 2-1, suck on it Mark :P), as well as with Brenton, and Ian & Luke R. Sorry for the name dropping Paul. It's in my nature. *helpless shrug* And that sums up my physical activity of late. The steps are really good. I'd recommend them to anyone, at any level of fitness. Hmm, who would I have in mind when I say that? :P (have you all thinking now don't I? haha).

I've been reading. Robin Hobb primarily, and the enthralling "The Last Man" graphic novels that Luke has been lending me. I'm hooked-er than a fish that's addicted to fishing hooks. And Robin seems like a good writer too...

I've been to Gold Class to see Juno where I enjoyed playing with the electric button reclining chairs a little too much. I ate with chopsticks, somewhat proficiently. :P I've jointly procured an investment property. I'm not saying where or what, but it's in the "pipe"-line *overthetop wink*.

I received a somewhat inspiring message from a girl from school, Sam, just yesterday. I hadn't heard from her for a long, long time - probably over a year - so it made the message all the more... significant/meaningful. We had English and Methods together at school, and she became school captain (whereas I was just a lowly prefect :P). Anyway, this is what she said:

"I know I'm slow to catch onto things, but I only just found out u swapped from commerce to writing and i am SO PROUD of u for doing so. I actually shed some tears of joy. I can't wait to read something by dale stephens, you're going to be great xox."

So yeah, that was strangely motivating and... just nice. Kind of reaffirmed some self-belief in my writing abilities that may have been lacking recently. Thanks, Sam, your chance to read something by Dale Stephens could come sooner than you think. [I might tell her about this blog :P].

That's all for now, Paul's gonna be here any second, and I've still got to admire Luke's latest text message to me for another 45 minutes, as well as scout for poor anim... I mean, scout for talent... -ed authors to read. :)

Thanks again for the comments,

Dale.