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Wednesday, July 30th, 2003
11:02 am - My absence...
Sorry about that...but you see, I've been busy.

I've watched all of Buffy except the last season, most of Angel, been doing about 40 hours a week worth of interviews in the sex survey I've been employed by, done some travelling, started back to the gym, and have been doing some small renovation stuff around the house. Weak, I know...but I just got busy.

Oh, and I have a short story that is appearing in a book called "Let the Evolution Begin." The book launch is in Las Vegas in late September, and I'm going to be there for a couple of days. Anyone who wants details and wants to attend the big party is welcome. The magazine I work for intrepid media is also going to have it's 4th Anniversary that weekend, also in Vegas. Anyone is welcome, and the more the merrier.

Stop by and say "Hi!"

I'll try to actually read a few journals and catch up over the next few days. If anyone has anything earth shattering that has happened this year, you can put it here. Helps me catch up, and know what's going on.

Missed you guys. I'll try to be good, and I've got a chapter from the Dead Baby Monkey Chronicles that's almost ready to post. Stay tuned.

current mood: sheepish

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Wednesday, May 21st, 2003
1:36 pm - Heeeee's Baaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaack.......!!
Okay...alla you'se guys who kept me on your "Friend's List,"...

Brace yourself. I'm back.

Those of you who dropped me... ...eh. Who cares? I wouldn't want some low-life Aussie-Yank who never made an entry to clutter up my lists, either. You did what you had to do. (But don't be holding out for any of my famous banana bread with coconut at the next tea-party, okay? 'Cause you ain't gettin' none.)

Gimme a day or two, and I'll be more explanatory-like. Meanwhile, I've got three months of journals to read. (Yeah, right.) I'll probably seem like the slow cousin at the family reunion for a while. Bear with me. I'll have lots of stupid questions and at least one episode from The Dead Baby Monkey Chronicles.

Oh...by the way. Intrepid Media (the magazine I work for) got chosen to be in the top 100 online writer's websites. We rock.

No, really. We do.

current mood: bewildered and bemused

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Thursday, February 13th, 2003
11:07 am - A Quick Note
Hi, George!

More later...I'm not dead yet!

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Wednesday, January 22nd, 2003
2:13 pm - Especially for kelrick

I am on my third glass of cranberry juice today. I think I'm going to invest in the Ocean Spray company.

Today is a good day.

current mood: sated

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Wednesday, January 15th, 2003
11:51 am - Eat My Buffy, You Bitches


Spoiler Alert: Midway Season Five


First of all...everything from my last post is fine. Stop worrying. I had a momentary flash of "Grrrrrrrrrrr," and now I'm over it. Yay for the couple who talks about everything. On to fun stuff...

I'm now a Buffy addict for real. I've watched all the way from the beginning to midway Season Five on DVD in just under three months. Shoot me...shoot me now. Much with the talking like Willow-age.

I'm now immersed in Season Five. Okay...can I just say? Dracula? Very cleverly done, up to and including the cop-out ending so as not to destroy the legend for Buffynauts.

Xander was brilliant as Wrenfield. "Spider-eating man-bitch" and "I'm nobody's butt-monkey" are now commonly used phrases in our house. Well, actually...the butt-monkey one was already in use around here, but now it means something different.

Oh, and I want a T-shirt that is the screenshot of disheveled Giles, Buffy post-slayage, and Riley...all standing in the Count's main hall, with the caption beneath it that is Buffy's line: "Check. No more butt-monkey."

Special Feature They Don't Tell You About On The Box: Go back and play that scene with various subtitles turned 'on.' I now know how to say "butt-monkey" in seven languages. Best. Thing. Ever.

current mood: totally geeked out on a TV show, but oddly happy about it

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Tuesday, January 7th, 2003
9:45 am - Inventory


Things On My Desk Right Now:

-pencil holder, containing pens, markers, a pair of scissors, a conductor's baton, and no pencils
-two computer speakers, one of which only works intermittently
-a cordless phone
-my mobile phone (which rang as I typed that, and scared the shit outta me)
-two drink coasters shaped like fish (one blue, one green)
-a whiteboard marker
-a scrap of paper with three email addresses on it
-a broken pair of sunglasses
-4 reference books (an American dictionary, an Australian dictionary, a book of quotes, and The Devil's Dictionary)
-8 fiction books (one apocolyptic, one horror, two fantasy, 3 cross-genre, and a copy of The Orchid Thief, which I can't seem to classify)
-a drinking/dice game called "Talking Australia"
-3 packs of unused Christmas cards
-a "Good Weekend" magazine from over a month ago
-some expired blood pressure medicine samples
-a wooden box full of phone numbers and business cards
-an adjustable table lamp
-my keyboard and monitor
-a stack of magnets
-a lighter
-the key to the window locks in my office
-a useless black mousepad (useless because the mouse is an optical trackball, no pad needed)
-an optical trackball peripheral interactive device
-a rolodex that is full of outdated info and hasn't been touched in months, but I can't bring myself to discard
-a framed copy of the first paycheck I ever recieved as a magazine columnist
-two condoms (one extra-large, yay for that)
-one sample pack of Eros lube
-a photograph of me with a goatee, holding my first nephew upside down
-a photograph of my ex and I on a diveboat in Key West
-two postcard sized paintings of Turkey
-a black-n-white photo of Norris when he was 11
-two Mardi Gras tickets from 2000
-a fist-sized beanbag with a smiley-face on one side, and a frowny-face on the other
-4 backup CD's, all full
-the warranty for my clothes dryer
-about a meter and a half of creeper vine, which has invaded my desk from the huge plant on my filing cabinet
-an American flag (about 6" square)
-a navigational map of Sydney Harbour
-two wedding invitations
-3 CD's [Red, Hot, and Blue,...1998 Sydney Mardi Gras 20th Anniversary Compilation,...and The Original Soundtrack to Star Wars/Empire Strikes Back (which is also the oldest CD I own, as it came with my first CD player)]
-a tiny padlock, with key
-a "Don't Mess With Texas" postcard from kablammy
-a sock monkey
-a plastic army guy
-a bendy Gumby
-a bendy Pokey
-a plastic dinosaur (Apatosaurus, according to the name on it's tail)
-an empty orange juice glass
-a scanner

PS: There is a bookshelf on my desk which holds a lot of this stuff, so it's not all piled up. Oh, and the sock monkey, the army guy, the Gumby, the Pokey, and the dinosaur are having a sex party, it would seem.

current mood: inventorical

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Monday, December 16th, 2002
11:32 am - A very Monday morning...

Erk.

(Yes. That was my weekend update.)

This bore repeating, so I'll do it here:

"The good food was gone, the prizes for the trivia game were being awarded, and the music might very well have been what was playing in Andrea Yates' head when she drowned her five children in the bath." <----wanton_bliss

This made me smile. A lot.

current mood: broken glass

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Friday, December 13th, 2002
9:25 am - Sooner or later...
...we knew it was going to happen.

Looks like I've got a busy day ahead of me...



current mood: caught off guard

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Thursday, December 12th, 2002
11:31 am - Quote of the Day
drood receives his first Chrissy Prezzie of the season...

"My first thought was that if Mrs. Claus and that frightening Burl Ives snowman from the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer special had passionate monkey sex and it resulted in a bastard love-child, and that bastard love-child ate a lot of candy canes and holly and vomited, what was sitting before me on the table would look exactly like that puddle of sick."

I want to be this eloquent when I grow up...

current mood: hysteria

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Thursday, December 5th, 2002
3:20 pm - Ack!
My paid account is going to end in a couple of days, and I can't decide...is it worth paying for a new account? Especially when it costs me twice as much as it does anyone else, because of the exchange rate. I was really debating spending the money...and then this "livejournal is all fucked up again. Thanks for your patience!" stuff started happening. So...I'm stumped. It's been a year since I was an unpaid user...is the speed difference worth it?

Ah...decisions, decisions...

current mood: on a budget

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8:44 am - Fade To Black
I wrote this last night (my time) as the solar eclipse was happening. It wouldn't "send," so I'm posting it this morning. (Special nod to flyboys for reminding me about the eclipse...)


Well, it's half past seven in Sydney, and the Great Dragon of the Sky has begun to eat the sun (There's a total eclipse happening in Australia, and Sydney got to see about 70% of it before sunset). It's been a strange day, and it's getting stranger...

Sydney had over 30 brushfires break out this afternoon, covering most of the surrounding area. So many firetrucks have been sent out to battle the blaze that there are roughly only 15 left to protect the rest of this city (over 3 million folks in the metro area.) The winds which were pretty quiet all day have suddenly started gusting strong enough to blow debris and roof sheeting around...it's howling outside in a funny way, making me get goosebumps.

The power is going on and off (I guess because of the fires), and savoy is hiding under the bed upstairs (I don't know if that's because of the winds or the eclipse...which is causing the shadows to look all funny as the sky slowly goes a pale, purplish colour.

I keep flashing back to that really cheezy 80's flick Night of the Comet. If you don't hear from me tomorrow, it's either because I'm a pile of orange dust, or I'm a flesh eating zombie shamboling around the suburbs in search of other survivors to gnaw on.

*break, while I watched the event*

Wow. This photo doesn't do it justice, but it should give you some idea. I went up on the roof (which was foolish, considering we are having gale force winds and my roof is almost 6 stories above ground) and tried to capture the whole thing as the sun set. I now know that solar photography with a digital cam is not as easy as it might seem.

But at least I'm not a zombie. Or blind.

Take a bite out of the sun...

current mood: strange and unrested

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Wednesday, November 27th, 2002
7:22 pm - Weird Craving


I want a bowling shirt.

I don't know why, but I want one. The vintage look, the funky vibe, the sexy sleeves.

I'm sick. I know this. But I want one.




I'm also an Adult Medium, in case you were wondering... (so it's a bit snug across the shoulders and in the arms).

current mood: craving

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9:00 am - For gargy...with <3...

HA! I KNEW IT!

current mood: smug, bloody rat bastard

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Wednesday, November 20th, 2002
10:27 pm - Chapter Eleven: The Dead Baby Monkey Chronicles
Potty Time with the Dead Baby Monkey


I'd read all the books. I'd surfed all the websites. I'd taken advice from young mothers, zookeepers, and taxidermists. The signs were all there, and my precious Dead Baby Monkey had reached the age that seemed appropriate. It was time.

Time to toilet train my sweet little mummified angel.

I didn't look forward to this task, not really...but the transition to solid food deemed it a necessity. I'm a bit squeamish when it comes to poo, but truth be told it hadn't really been a problem up until now. I mean, think about it. It's a Dead Baby Monkey...how much poo could it produce? My diapering skills consisted of running my finger down the back of his tiny nappy and checking for moisture...if there was none, then why change the thing? Common sense, really. Now, I know that most infant books will tell you that a diaper change is necessary at least once a day...but those same books also tell you that every child is different, and that variations in your own youngster should not be seen as abnormal. I take such advice to heart, because I know my sweet little bundle of parchment-like skin and desiccated fur is a special case...not to mention he's not even human. I know he's an ape, and I don't expect my sweet Dead Baby Monkey to adhere to all the rules. And I'm prepared for that.

But I wasn't prepared for toilet training, or the dangers it posed. Oh my goodness, no. Not at all.

First there was the whole process of introducing this new concept to my perfect little angel. I opted for the "watch daddy do it" method at first...propping the Dead Baby Monkey up on the clothes hamper while I "did my business" in front of him. It was uncomfortable and a bit embarrassing, but I had to have the mindset that I was simply teaching my tiny charge one of life's simple facts. Grown-ups (or those heading in that direction) needed to "go potty" in a grown-up fashion, and this was how.

Mind you, I'm glad no one had a camera handy. I mean, imagine the scene: Me, with my pants down around my ankles, sitting on the toilet and pretending to go poo, all the while chatting in reassuring tones to a tiny, mummified monkey baby with glued-on googly-eyes and a blue, stuck-on PlayDoh™ ear. To make matters worse, he just sat there, tilted to one side against a stack of dirty towels, seeming not to understand the purpose of the whole thing. I began to feel decidedly foolish, so I decided to change my approach.

The next method suggested to me by many parents (and one animal behaviorist, before she hung up on me) was to wait until one of those moments when the infant would "make the face" that meant a potty moment was imminent. Evidently, when a young child (or even a young simian) is about to have a pee or a poo, they squinch up their face in apparent joy, because what they are about to do will feel very good, and seem to be a relief to them. It's only as they get older that they are taught that "going pee or poo" isn't really something to celebrate so obviously with a grin or a coo, and they lose this endearing behaviour. But until then, it is evidently a reliable indicator that something is forthcoming...so I decided to give it a try.

Well...you can imagine what has happened. My formerly pliable and cooperative tot has finally launched himself into his recalcitrant years...and has deduced my intent and set about foiling me at my own game. He sits there, poker faced, unwilling to let on that he needs to go potty. My perfect, darling Dead Baby Monkey has decided that he's going to go head-to-head with me over this potty thing, but I'm going to be strong. I'll wait him out...watching him for the slightest tell-tale sign that he's about to soil his diaper, and then I'll scoop him up and rush him to the toilet, allowing him to learn by his own example how this potty-training thing should work.

I've been watching him for almost two days now, but I think I'm winning. I'd swear that his left googly-eye (the one that sticks, sometimes) just jiggled a bit...a sure sign that a bathroom moment is soon to come. After not sleeping for two days, staring eye-to-googly-eye with my stubborn little pumpkin, I hope that he realizes that I'm doing this to help him grow up...and that I'm doing this for his own good.

Yes. I'm doing this for the good of my sweet, lovely Dead Baby Monkey.


to be continued....

current mood: exhausted but determined

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Tuesday, November 19th, 2002
11:13 pm - Succumb to Temptation
Okay...you all know I hate quizzes and stuff. They just suck the life out of me. Most of you have learned to either put them behind a LJ cut, or to just not do them. For these and other things, I thank you all. (Oh, and shadoh, don't think I've forgotten about you. I actually live in fear [or maybe thrill] of the day that you claim your photos. You know what I'm talkin' bout, Willis.)

Anyway, I saw this survey on kablammy's journal, and I couldn't resist. I'm all about originality, yo...and this was actually quite clever and allowed for some interesting answers. So,...I'm doing it. Just don't call me a hypocrite, 'cause it ain't no quiz. Plus...I've had a couple of drinks, and I'm feeling the love. Enjoy.

1. Beatles or Elvis?:
Beatles. No contest. (Plus, they had cooler movies.)

2. What is your secret spy name?:
Octopenii

3. When you were a kid, you wanted to grow up to be:
...as cute as that neighbor-guy who I was always helping with his car. (I'd use his name, but who knows if he's out there reading this?)

4. Ever had an odd pet (anything other than dog, cat, fish, bird)?:
A 10ft Columbian Boa Constrictor named Houdini, a giant crawdad named Clipper, hermit crabs (one named Hermie, go fig), a Muluccan Cockatoo named Mon Amie, a Senegal Parrot named Tuxedo, a Java Rice Sparrow named Sushi, a leopard shark, a stingray, several moray eels (one named Pirelli, because he had 'tire track' patterns down the side of his body), several generations of preying mantises (mantii?), an alligator snapping turtle I rescued from the side of the road after being hit by a car (his name was Roadkill, both for the obvious reasons and the fact that he'd eat anything...including roadkill), a rabbit named Pip who was eaten by wild dogs (I lived in the country...it happens), an albino ferret with a horrible underbite named Scooter, a hedgehog named Blimey, and a Bird Eating Tarantula who only ate crickets, named Chickenshit. If all this seems a bit extreme, then I offer up as evidence the fact that I managed a chain of pet stores for years, and I also used to own a company that used animals to educate children about nature and the world, and most of the exhibits were pets of mine that I'd rescued from shelters or abusive situations. I'm definitely an animal person.

5. Boxers or Briefs (interpret this as you will)?:
my motto is "A cock ring and a smile." I avoid underwear. It is only one more layer to get in the way.

6. List the strangest town name(s) you've ever seen:
Lizard Lick, NC and Nag's Head, NC (near where I grew up)

7. Ever taken the purity test?:
I have taken "a" purity test. I failed.

8. Is your hair color currently your natural color?:
Yes.

9. Your current celebrity crushes:
Do porn stars count as celebs? If not, then I'd go with Eric Bana. Oh, and the guy who plays Angel, but only when he's bad.

10. Do you own any Tupperware?:
My Tupperware owns me, honey.

11. Ever re-gifted an item?:
Yes. Once to the person who gifted it to me. To his credit, his only comment was "I love the fact that we have the same taste." Now...that's class!!

12. Your favorite Stooge:
Moe. He is sooooooooo me...always thinking he's more clever than he really is.

13. Daffy Duck or Donald Duck?:
Donald is a milquetoast. The old, skinny Daffy with the crazy "bounce on the water" shtick. Classic WB.

14. Favorite game to play (not sport, just game):
Naked Peanut Oil Twister with Porn Star Friends and Eric Bana (only I seem to know the rules, and I ain't telling.)

15. You do a GREAT impression of:
Sean Connery, the gingerbread man from Shrek saying "you're a MONster!" and any farm animal you can name. Oh, and Marvin the Martian.

16. Most recent celebrity spotting:
John Leguizamo eating breakfast at a cafe near my house. His baby is cute, in a "let's cook it for dinner!" sorta way.

17. Strange skill you have that not many people know about:
My knees are double-jointed, so I can bend my legs into odd shapes. Plus, I can cause total strangers to stop what they are doing and stare at me like I'm crazy. (That is a skill, isn't it?)

18. The body part you like best on yourself is:
My brain. It manages to cover a multitude of shortcomings in other places...

19. A bad habit you have is:
I talk too much. About absolutely nothing. But I'm funny, sometimes.

20. The last concert you went to:
Elton John, here in Sydney. The wig looked almost natural from the 20th row.

21. Kinkiest location you've ever done It:
Depends on what you'd call "kinky."
Kinky=fetishy: On a stage at a dance party
Kinky=most unusual: On a ferris wheel while stuck at the top
Kinky=EW! No way!: In the ice-room at a huge fish market. He was hot enough to compensate.

22. What is your drag name (name of first pet with mother's maiden name)?:
Princess Jordan. Oh, fuck...that's funny.

23. Your favorite fast-food burger is:
What a disgusting thought...I haven't eaten 'fast food' in years...maybe decades. Bleah.

24. Worst job you've ever had:
Worst type of job: Bussing tables at a restaurant, possibly tied with sorting bottles at a recycling factory
Worst pay: being a writer...but damn, I love the hours

25. In the movie of your life, whom do you want to play you?:
Ed Norton...but only after he'd spent a year in an asylum, and then been beaten in the head with a frozen squid. Otherwise, I don't think he'd get the nuance right.

26. Your dream car:
I don't drive, and I hate cars. I haven't been behind the wheel of a car in almost 4 years. And I love it.

27. Your favorite comic strip is:
Sluggy Freelance. No one does mutating space aliens and homicidal dwarf bunnies in one strip and gets away with it...but somehow, he manages.

28. Do you still have your appendix?:
So far, my abdomen is still unbreached.

29. Toilet paper: rolled under or over?:
Why do people ask this? I'm sure I've put it on the roll both ways, because I've never paid any attention whatsoever. It still gets the shit off my ass...it's not like it has a "good" side and a "bad" side...

30. Your favorite donut:
Another culinary delight that has escaped my notice. Much too sweet for me.

31. Favorite basketball team (if you have one; pro or college; men or women):
Don't get much basketball down here in Oz...but any team that still has short shorts and spunky forwards.

32. Favorite Simpsons quote:
"I'm just trying to get into Heaven...I'm not running for Jesus!"

33. Do you collect anything interesting?:
erotic photos of armpits...and I'm not kidding. I have several thousand of them. I think at this stage it is called a "fetish."

34. What are your hobbies?:
Writing. (Sadly, it is also a career.) I also flirt. (Maybe that's a sport...but oh, well.)

35. Your favorite form of chocolate:
Please don't tell anyone...but I don't really like chocolate.

36. Your guilty pleasure:
That second spoonful of sugar in my coffee...and green olives (especially stuffed with anchovies....YUM!)

37. Your favorite piece of sushi:
a really nice piece of bluefin tuna, or blue-eyed cod (easy to get here, hard to find in the States)

38. Your favorite way to blow $20:
A DVD, or half a dozen schooners of nice brew down at the pub. Especially if I'm sharing them with a few mates...

39. Ever slapped someone who was not a blood relative?
Yes...and he snapped right out of it and went back to fucking without a single word of complaint. God bless'm.

40. Your favorite Girl Scout cookie:
One layer of Oreo's, a layer of Girl Scout, and another layer of Oreo's. Dip in milk. Repeat.

41. Your personal theme song:
Pachabel's Canon in D. Don't laugh...it's "me."

42. Do you have any jewelry in your birthstone (and what is the stone?)? :
No, and I don't know.

43. Your favorite sandwich (or sammich, if you prefer):
Peanut butter, applesauce, and saltine crackers. Don't knock it til you've tried it...especially if you're poor. Heaven.

44. The farthest place you've ever traveled to:
I'm there right now...I've been around the world twice, and I'm currently living in the biggest city in the country that is almost exactly opposite the point on the Earth where I was born.

45. What would you do with a million dollars?:
Pay off all my mom's bills, put my nephews through college, and spend two weeks trying to blow the rest in the most decadent way possible. Whatever is left over goes in the bank.

46. What is one of your life goals (have you achieved it yet?)?:
To have one of my novels published. Not yet.

47. Have you ever seen the movie "Free to Be You and Me" in elementary school?:
Nope. Have no idea what it is, but it sounds schizophrenic.

48. Your favorite Muppet (from any Henson production):
Chamberlain, the hunchbacked cross between a buzzard and a lizard in The Dark Crystal. (You remember? He kept going "HHHMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........." all the time. He was cool and creepy.)

49. In 10 more years, you want to accomplish:
Financial independence. I'm tired of worrying about all this mundane money shit...I want to get on with the business of living.

50. Your favorite foreign-language film:
I hate subtitles, but I really liked a French film a year or two ago, that had the name Harry in the title. Can't remember the rest, except that it was a murder/comedy film. Very strange, very French, very funny in a dark way. Loved it.

current mood: surveylicious

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Friday, November 15th, 2002
5:40 pm - Wow. Blue.


I just ran into jeb at the post office. We were both picking up packages that our respective mail carriers were either too lazy or too unwilling to deliver to our doorsteps. (My carrier always knows I'm home, yet she still shoves a slip under the door and tries to make a getaway without making the delivery. I catch her halfway up the block, sometimes, and demand my package.)

But yeah...jeb's hair is blue. Stand-up-by-itself-and-yell-at-you blue. He had a cap on, and even the tiny ring of fringe that stuck out had everyone in line behind him pointing and whispering. Wow. Shocking blue.

I love it.

current mood: aquamarine

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1:19 pm - Chapter Ten: The Dead Baby Monkey Chronicles


Our First Battle of Wills...or...The Dead Baby Monkey vs Asparagus

It had to happen sooner or later. It just had to.

After months of tender care, restful nights, pleasant disposition, and warm, loving looks up at me from those plastic googly-eyes of his...the Dead Baby Monkey finally displayed his first streak of rebelliousness.

Now...I'm not living in some fantasy world. I'm perfectly aware that infants will have bad days. There will be nights where some young ones will simply refuse to be put to bed, or will cry for hours with no apparent reason. Some babies eat heartily, and some refuse anything that is served at mealtimes. But I've been spoiled. My cuddly little simian has always gone quietly to bed, always spending a restful night lying there in the dark and never waking me, even once. Often, I'll go into the nursery in the mornings and find him still in the same position in which I left him the night before...resting splayed out on his back, arms akimbo, staring blankly up at the mobile that hangs above the crib. "What a good, quiet baby!" I croon as I pick him up and check his (always dry) nappy. "What a fine, well-behaved Dead Baby Monkey you are!" I say, lightly brushing the stray bits of skin and hair from the baby mattress.

And it doesn't stop with the sleeping patterns, either. The Dead Baby Monkey never struggles when I dress him, nor does he whine or cry when we go out in public. He has always been the epitome of a well-mannered baby. Always, that is, until last night.

For the first time, I changed his diet. Until now, he had done well with the bottle. Never a spilled drop, no matter how long I left him alone with it. But last night, I decided it was time for some more grown-up fare, so I steamed some vegetables lovingly in the microwave, and presented the colourful plate (after letting it cool, of course) to my dear little one. I figured the bright colours of the carrots and asparagus, combined with the interesting and easy-to-hold shapes, would entice my fuzzy young munchkin to try his first solid food.

Nothing. The Dead Baby Monkey hardly stirred when I put the plate in front of him...instead, he simply sat there, staring straight ahead as if I had still not served dinner. I was perplexed, so I tried a new approach: The Airplane Trick. (Okay...so it isn't new to everyone else, but it was new to the Dead Baby Monkey.)

"VROOOOOOOOOOM!" I crooned, flying an asparagus spear through the air over the high-chair. "Coming in for a landing!" I intoned as I approached the DBM's slightly agape mouth. But nothing I did would entice a reaction...it was almost as if the Dead Baby Monkey was mocking me, sitting stonily in the high chair and refusing to even acknowledge that it was food I was attempting to entice him with. Over and over again, I begged, cajoled, wheedled...but to no avail. He stubbornly stared straight ahead, ...sort of. (One googly-eye was pointing at a slight angle from the other, making him seem to mock me even more.) "Eat!" I cried. "Eat this, or there will be no dinner for you! Is that what you want? To go to bed without dinner!?!" I felt like a heartless, abusive parent for saying such things...but I had no choice. He really did need to learn to start on solid food...it was far past time.

I eventually resorted to mushing the veggies up into a paste, and spooning them into his mouth. He was still resistant to the solids, and refused to help me at all by chewing or swallowing...but I finally got a small serving of carrots into him. The asparagus I gave up on as a bad idea, simply because I don't like them either, and my conscience was starting to bother me for trying to force the issue of solid food on the Dead Baby Monkey at a time when he plainly was not ready to accept it.

Later, after putting him to bed, I realized that this first solid meal was not agreeing with my poor baby. There was a funny smell coming from the nursery, which I assume is the gas his poor uninitiated tummy is producing in protest of this strange new meal. Oh, am I a bad parent? Or am I doing what is right? Because, that's all I really want...what's right.

I want what's right for my dear sweet Dead Baby Monkey.


....to be continued.



current mood: conflicted

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Thursday, November 14th, 2002
11:02 am - Absolute Best Quote Ever
Mainly because it is true. From thirdreel

"Have you ever watched claymation cartoons with Mongolian monks? Well, I have. And that means my life is cooler than yours."


I'm still around...just very busy again.

Short version: The Gay Games, lots of very fit boys turned loose in a new city, dancing, debauchery, and some work thrown in for variety. Ask me about any of these things, and I'll answer. Otherwise, I have to try and get to the University in time for another two-hour question session concerning sex. I still can't believe I'm getting paid for doing these interviews with people.

You guys are fun to read. Thank you for doing what I evidently cannot...which is to make regular entries into your journals. But I'm trying...

current mood: overwhelmed, in a good way

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Tuesday, October 29th, 2002
8:06 am - The Bride Was Not Amused
Norris: (at a wedding we attended Saturday) "Look at the program. The reverend's name is Boak Jobbins."

Me: "Didn't he live in the Shire, right behind the Baggins' place?"

Australian women love weddings...it's the only time they get to put on eye-shattering primary colours and big hats at the same time. I haven't seen so much green taffeta and floral print velvet since my last experiment with LSD.

Oh, and what's the deal with Hawaiian shirts and Aussie weddings? There has been at least one person wearing one at every wedding I've attended here. (And the person wearing the natty blue-and-white floral Hawaiian shirt at this wedding was also named Jack.) But I'm not complaining...at least this wedding was indoors, and the photographer didn't have to climb up into a tree to get a shot of the wedding party that didn't include kickboxers and model airplanes.

Yeah. That's another story, though.

current mood: matrimonially challenged

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Tuesday, October 22nd, 2002
5:07 pm - The Dog Ate My Journal Entry


I am hopelessly behind on everything, including my "friends" list. So if you've done something worthy of comment...I haven't gotten there yet. But I will. I'm obsessive enough to go through all 1000 posts (as far as LJ will let me go back) and read whatever you wrote. I'm insane like that.

Reasons for my "behind-ness?" Well, Norris and I have taken in a new flatmate, and he'll likely be here for about 6 months. He's temporarily in Sydney for work, and he's an old friend of Norris (and a new friend of mine.) Also, the aforementioned interview work that I'm doing for the university has now turned into about 30 hours a week of extra work, which isn't bad...just time consuming. I'm loving it, though. Gay men in Sydney have some very interesting stories to share it seems, about the sex they are having.

Okay...to get me back in the swing of things (and to see if anyone is still reading my journal, since I've been so remiss in updating it), I'm going to jump on a trend I've seen going around in the past. Here goes:

Until I make the next entry, I'll answer any question you ask me. Pull out all the stops, ask me anything...I'll answer it honestly. My only caveat being that I won't say anything that reveals personal/contact details about another person, or divulge any confidence that I've made with someone else. Anything about me (as long as it isn't hurtful or dangerous to another person) is fair game. Fire away.

Just don't ask anything that you really don't want to know the answer to. You've been warned...

current mood: exposed

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