I don't discriminate against Dickheads » I probably wrote this on a train

Random Thoughts from a Train Delay

amber — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 21:47:38 +0000

Major Delays – Hurstbridge line: both directions, after an earlier equipment fault at Macleod. Delays over 25 minutes.. Connex, Keeping you updated.

Yeah, been waiting over an hour now. Random thought time.

Anklets might make you feel ‘alternative’, but when they’re under a pair of cheap stockings and you’re wearing a business suit, you just look like you’ve sold out to The Man.
The only women that call themselves ‘barren’ are spammers justifying why you are entitled to that inheritance.
If you’re going to chat up schoolgirls, don’t do it wearing a suit.
The first rule of Amber’s uterus is: don’t talk about Amber’s uterus. I won’t tell you the second rule.
I believe that songs are like parasites: if one gets stuck in your head it won’t disappear until you find it a new host.

Hello from the Future

amber — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 21:45:29 +0000

One of the issues with living at the pointy end of the International Date Line is that you get reminded of anniversaries, etc too late, and celebrate birthdays too early. So, to wake up and be told to remember the 5th of November on the morning of the 6th is too late. And to be reminded of National Blog Posting Month starting on the 2nd- again, too late, which is a shame because I wanted to increase my posting and needed the structure of a forced shared experience to get into the routine.

Asian Fur Burger

amber — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 01:13:21 +0000

A few months ago, I found out that I lucky when it comes to Asian style UFO catchers- like the western ones but with pincers instead of claws and better prizes, such as soft toys that don’t make sense. I wouldn’t call it my superpower, but I almost always end up ahead.
Anyway, truth is a) i want to post this picture but more importantly b) I want to get into google for the term ‘asian fur burger’ and confuse a lot of furries in the process. So I present to you…. The Asian Fur Burger.

Not without my Hasselblad

amber — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 21:40:53 +0000

001:20:10 Collins (onboard): …I’ve lost a Hasselblad. Has anybody seen a Hasselblad floating by? It couldn’t have gone very far, big son of a gun like that.

About 40 years ago, three guys took a giant leap. And in a month, I will be taking my own.

When I got engaged, I did not have a list of things to do before I got married but a list of things to buy before I had to stop being selfish with my money. At the top of that list was completing a quest called Operation Frankenblad, which boiled down to this: about 4 years ago, I bought a Hasselblad body on eBay, then when I got it I realized that one part alone does not a Hasselblad make (don’t worry, I wasn’t ripped off, and it led to a self imposed exile from Internet auctions for a while). So piece by piece, I have bought a photographic icon.

I think about taking ol’ Frankie out for a spin all the time, none more than the week commemorating the camera’s finest moment. But the chances keep floating away, under the pressure of making sure that everything’s done for the wedding (not the marriage, which I am ready for), but it’s time will come. And so will mine.

RIP Fish Two

amber — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 22:01:42 +0000

The fish that represents my worst Christmas, that had no redeeming features and I cared so little about that I didn’t even bother to give it a name died.

About bloody time.

Crisis of Identity

amber — Wed, 27 May 2009 03:18:09 +0000

When I was 14 I discovered that my name wasn’t actually my name. In fact, it was a yuppified version, due to a typo. Luckily for me, I wasn’t some emotional teenager so I laughed it off, made sure my signature was gender neutral, and moved on.
Then the Internet got big, and I discovered something: what if this alter-ego became my online identity? It solved all those stranger danger issues whilst at the same time showed that I was comfortable being me. So most of my online identity revolves around the typo- same pronounciation, different spelling. Unless I was lucky enough to get in early enough for my ‘real’ name. For example, this blog.
Fast forward to today, and my decision to get a new birth certificate for the impending nuptuals. “Times have changed”, says the lady at the counter at the BDM as she rolls off the list of things that wouldn’t have my given name if I applied for them today, including my marriage certificate. Passport. License. Everything. “Just change your name on everything to the one on your birth certificate”.
And the alternative? Fill out a form that the birth certificate is wrong, which sounds good in theory if a) you didn’t have to show proof that your name is your name without a birth certificate or b) the six weeks it takes means that the marriage license won’t be ready in time.
But the truth is I like things the way that they are now. It’s bad enough for an independent woman to consider dropping your surname on marriage, but to change your first name? At the same time? That’s just too much. On the other hand, if I keep the name I know and wipe out the typo, then I’m just another person who has changed their name into l33tspeak. I’m equally as comfortable with both as I am uncomfortable with getting rid of one over the other. They’re both me, and to choose one I’d lose part of me.

A rant- but not from me

amber — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 20:21:52 +0000

When I miss the train that I aim to catch each day- and this is pretty often-I get the pleasure of sharing the train platform with a lady I like to call Ranty Tourettes Woman. If you get near her she starts questioning your morality and then tells you to go forth and multiply, and then offers to smash your face in. Then you generally move away lest you find out that Ranty Tourettes Woman is actually Crazy Psycho Tourettes Woman. And then she moves on to the next person.

On the weekend I was at another train station and there she was again, and I’m sure she recognised me and now thinks I’m one of the government spies sent to follow her and apply a bug in her frontal lobe, because this morning she singled me out specifically, stood by my seat and started threatening me. Even I was suprised how little it took for me to give in and walk away.

So yeah, she’s seven types of scary. But she’s also a few type of awesome too:

The rant thing is quite ingenious on her behalf, because while everyone else is arse to cheek, she has a quarter of the platform all to herself. I really don’t know how it is when she’s actually on the train, which can be so full you could consider it sodomy, but it probably is the same.
She catches the same train each day. Being the Ranty Tourettes Woman is no excuse for tardiness, and she knows it.
She’s probably correct about the whorishness of most of the people she talks to (but not me, naturally). And requesting that they go and do the action that they are obviously skilled at may be an act of kindness rather than rantiness.
Maybe she’s the sane one.

It's happened again

amber — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 23:28:08 +0000

Another day, another mobile phone.
My N95 died, and despite Nokia telling me that they could when I handed it in, they refused to fix it because it was bought overseas.
Oh well, best way to show them how I felt was to go out and buy the opposition’s product. Bad news is that mynew phone is an iPhone. Now I’m one of those people.

Commuting

amber — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 21:56:37 +0000

When you’re relying on somebody else to get you to work, you’re suddenly running your life to a timetable. Whether you like it or not. And especially when you are on public transport.
So, because my train was late, I miss one connection. And therefore another. So I know from the start that I will arrive at work half an hour later than normal, and if that’s the case, I might as well wait where there is food and shelter, but at the risk of missing another train. But by this time, you’re getting schoolkids sharing the train with you, as well as the first panhandlers of the day- you know, the ones with ambition- and it’s best I don’t look them in the eye. All because my train was late.
Oh well, it could be worse… I could be on the train with people who never catch public transport, and them don’t know how to buy a ticket, and then complain about a pissy delay.

Don't get in my face

amber — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 21:12:55 +0000

I wish people wouldn’t serve me food when they’re sick… If they stayed in the kitchen I’d feel much safer.