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Posting my NaNo on LJ this year seeing as I'll be working on separate machines. Consider this storage space.

The bone-shuddering sensation of foot-tickling pulled Damon out of his dreams. The maggots were back. The humidity of summer brought with it the parasites as well as memories of days gone by. Every afternoon the blazing sun would pour its deathrays through the window of the battered apartment, intruding into the dusty darkness where rats and ex-soldiers slept past lunchtime. It was taxing to spend so much time lying in bed, particularly when it became so hot that sweat beads rolled down one's forehead like a boiling baptism keeping sleep at bay. The squirming grains of rice on Damon's rotted foot also didn't help. He wasn't sure how they kept coming back- it wasn't as though he ever opened the windows or doors.

Peeling away the single sweaty sheet that clothed him, Damon rose from his twenty-three hour slumber and swung his legs over the side of the bed. A few of his new friends were shaken from his blackened stump and fell soundlessly to the bare floorboards, writhing in panicked abandonment. A few of them crawled blindly towards the bed legs as though trying to find something solid to cling to in the relatively vast expanse of their bare surroundings. Without sustenance, they would soon wither and die having never known life beyond their palpal stage. They would never rise into the sky on cellophane wings, never find a mate to carry on their genes. No one would even care that they'd died.

Damon crushed them underfoot -or rather, under-stump,-as he reached for his crutches and lumbered to the bathroom. The cool spray from the shower head washed away the sweat and worms from his body as he lay down in the bottom of the tub. It was indeed unfortunate to be awake again. At least in his drug-induced siestas he could escape from reality. The meds his psychiatrist had prescribed did nothing to kill his blood-soaked nightmares, and so he had taken to alternative medicines. Unfortunately this alternative required injection between his toes. After a few months of usage, he no longer had toes so he would inject into the crusty curve of the top of his foot. When that turned to blackened rot, he injected into that. Sometimes layers of dead skin would slide off to make way for the needle. It had become increasingly difficult to find a spot of solid flesh and, not wanting to ruin his hands (he needed those to put the needles together and masturbate), he injected higher and higher on both feet until naught but putrid stumps remained. Even now it was getting harder to inject into the exposed veins that were semi-attached to his ankles. As the freezing water poured down on him, he pondered the possibility of injecting straight into his neck. Perhaps after a while that too would putrefy and his brain would lose its blood supply. Then he could sleep forever.

Fandoms are funny things. I think the last one I had before this was a brief fling with V for Vendetta back in 2007, and before that Weiss Kreuz in 2005. I went through countless ones as a young un. From a personal experience, my fandoms always seem to come about when I’m going through a particularly tough time. Sometimes they last weeks, other times years. My brain’s funky little way of saying “screw this world, my imagination’s better!”

Recently I’ve made some interesting observations about how much has and hasn’t changed in popular fandoms in general. Most strikingly, fan art has improved significantly over the past decade, both in quality and quantity. Back in the early 2000’s, most fanart was what you saw on deviantART (or its crappy predecessor, mediaminer.org), and most of you reading this would be aware that the quality of dA is… questionable. Yes there are some masterpieces on there, however they’d get posted so much around forums and LJs that it soon became a task to find anything decent, new and interesting. Much of it was drawn by teens who saw the rise of the internet and got on board. I’m guessing these teens grew up and continued to post their works on the internet, and with support from fellow fans and constructive criticism to hone their art, went on to become excellent artists. That combined with easier access to graphics programmes (open source stuff like GIMP, faster download speeds for pirating) and the general attractiveness of the interwebs as a place to share art, in my opinion, seems to have raised the bar significantly for fan art. Artists are also encouraged to go to cons and sell their fan works and get recognition. The Avengers art I’ve seen is of higher quality than most of the stuff I saw in my Weiss Kreuz days outside of doujinshi. It’s brilliant.

Of course, there are some things that will always stay the same, and while fan art overall has ascended in quality, fan-fiction is still rooting around in the mud. Naturally I’m speaking in generalisations, but the Avengers section of FanFiction.net looks exactly like the Gundam Wing section did back in 2001. The stories are still all the same, with the same tropes, stereotypes and large amount of illiterate writers. Part of this is likely due to the website itself- it attracts a certain crowd and it’s easy for categories to become echo chambers where authors all use the same tropes, stereotypes and catchphrases because they’ve been inspired to do so from other works. But at the same time, FFN is still the largest collection of fanfiction on the internet so if the quality is bad on there, it can drag the whole genre down.

You really do have to hunt around for good fics these days, and most of the time it’s not on FFN. LiveJournal, although mostly abandoned, still remains an active hub for such authors. Why that is, I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s the communities and that it’s a text-based form of social networking unlike tumblr. Generally the quality of fics has always been better on LJ, and if there are other gems out there then people will tend to link to them on their favourite communities.

Another thing that hasn’t changed is the popularity of m-pregs, incest, and genderswap. Admit it ladies, even if Thor and Loki were blood brothers you’d still be happily shipping them.

Music videos are a new thing too. Even comic books have their own videos of scanned-in images flashing across the screen to the auter’s favourite songs. This genre used to exist purely for AMVs, but now there’s so many of the non-anime genre that seems to be a new category that exists alongside the fic and art practices. Ten years ago I wouldn’t have predicted that would take off, particularly with crippling slow download speeds.

It’s all very interesting. I wonder what the next ten years hold?

Current Mood: thoughtful

I'm having something of a lolita crisis at the moment.

It's not so much the clothes. I just dropped hundreds of dollars on Mary Magdalene and Moitie dresses. It's moreso the negative feelings I'm starting to attach to the the fashion.

First and foremost, the obvious- the hideous monstrosity that is my body. I often stand in the mirror thinking about how much I hate myself and how I wish I could cut big chunks off my grotesque form. I used to be a normal size when I was a child until the PCOS kicked in and I gained weight. It was something I was bullied for relentlessly at school, mostly by boys who would walk up to me and slap me across the face until I cried whilst they yelled about how fat I was. I got a lot of verbal and physical abuse for being overweight and also for being an outcast. No adults ever addressed the issue, so the feelings of self-hatred kicked in early. Most 9 year olds don't keep a knife under their beds so they can stab themselves to death once they build up the courage to do it.

I feel disappointed with myself every time I look at photos. I'm not the sort of person that cries. But the festering pain inside starts to take its toll after a while like a cancer.

Secondly, I'm not particularly feeling great about meet-ups anymore. I tend to be socially anxious as it is, but it has happened that some rather unflattering things have been said about me in passing, and it's really put a wet blanket on the whole thing. More worringly, there have been instances where people have misinterpreted something I have said or done as malicious (not even my usual trolling), or even just misinterpreted me as a person, and have gone on to imagine stories about me that are untrue. It's given me horrible stress headaches and quite honestly I get paranoid about attending each new meet-up out of concern that a new story will be conjured up.

It's been a real downer, particularly given the emotional rollercoaster I've been on over the past few months. When you're trying desperately to come up with reasons to live, the combined pressure of the above points do not make for a super happy fun time.

I'm not sure what to do at this stage. I don't think it would be any loss to anyone if I simply stopped showing up to events and dressed up in my own time. But to me, going out and seeing everyone's beautiful outfits, taking photos together and having fun is a big part of lolita.

Is it weird to be so caught up in something as superficial as wearing kawaii desu Nipponese clothing?

Current Mood: anxious

I was surprised today- despite getting up at noon, there were still tonnes of LPs around Harajuku. None of the big name lolita brands had sold out, so I'm glad I didn't take my friend's advice and get there at 6am! My suitcases are pretty stuffed and I was running low on funds, so I just got LPs from Swimmer and Paris Kid's. However, I am currently at the stage where I have filled 2 suitcases and an overnight bag, so it will be a challenge to bring it all back. I'm actually calculating how many layers of clothing I can wear at once and how much stuff I can cram in my pockets for the plane ride. Remember that episode of The Simpsons where they go to the candy festival and Homer steals the Gummy de Milo? Think of me as the over-stuffed Marge whose pockets are about to burst with burando accessories X_x

Last night was fun, some peeps from my hotel and I walked around to the local shrines for the first pilgrimage of the new year at midnight. It was cold, so the people at the shrine had lots of hot sake ready for us. At the Inari shrine we hit up, the sake was a little stronger than I'm accustomed to and my high-pitched coughing echoed throughout the holy site, eliciting an endearing "kawaii" from the Shinto priest.

Tomorrow I hop on a plane to Brisbane. I'm none too thrilled about it. I was discussing with one of my ex-pat friends who lives in Tokyo now about how the lack of variety, new things and fun stuff to do after 5pm other than drink in Brisbane really sucks the soul out of you. She used to love the place because it was her hometown, but like so many, she was able to reflect on how truly stifling it is there after she got out. I want to get out again too. I really do. Maybe that should be my belated New Year's Resolution.

I is here and HOLY SHIT NOSTALGIA. I haven't heard those happy little train station jingles since the X-Japan concert in '08. (Every train station has its own jingle it plays when the train is about to depart instead of the grating "Doors closing, please stand clear.)

I'll have some pics up soon but yesterday I caught up with a friend who's staying over here and we managed to do both Harajuku and Shinjuku in one day. The latter was full of host boys! They had the most lovely hair and faces, but I must be getting old because they were all too young for me.

It's positively freezing so hot cans of tea from vending machines have been on the menu. I also had an epic riceball that was tomoato sauce rice wrapped in egg. My friend and I hit up an Izakaya in Shinjuku and did the "all you can drink" thing. The bastards served the booze in big glasses that were practically steins so I only got down 5 and a half drinks before our time was up. That was my limit anyway, seeing as I had been mixing sake and umeshu. Vomiting and passing out in a foreign city isn't something I'd like to repeat. (AVCon 2006 afterparty, anyone?)

So today I'm wandering over to Shibuya and then hopefully onto Akihabara for PantyQuest2011. Wish me luck.

Hurrk, I accidentally got this skirt in navy blue instead of black. Anyone want it for $45 or so? It's brand new and fits waists 75cm-100cm. Lemme know.

I really want to get the new AatP circus print JSK that comes out on Friday but I won't be at a computer when it comes on reserve. Can any of you guys help me out if I give you my account deets?

I'm a little bit proud of myself today because my tales from the streets of San Francisco made it in the country's biggest selling paper, The Telegraph. I even managed to get a Lolita reference in! So I thought I'd just post it here both for entertainment value and to motivate myself the next time my story ideas fall on deaf ears.

There's a district where the spirit of the '60s lives on, struggling to keep a culture of greed away, writes Suzanne Dorfield

DOCTOR Evil - aka Mike Myers - once observed that ``there's nothing more pathetic than an ageing hipster'', but in San Francisco's famous Haight-Ashbury district the free love culture from the '60s is a profitable legacy.

The neighbourhood was home base for 1967's Summer of Love and inspired the John Phillips-written, Scott McKenzie-sung San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair).
Local bands such as The Grateful Dead and plentiful smoke shops helped cement it as the home of 1960s counterculture. Being raised on The Mamas and the Papas (John Phillips again) and their ilk, I am keen to spend a day exploring the hallowed streets that spawned a movement.

It's a weekday afternoon and the odour of marijuana smoke hangs low in the air as I pass a group of time-weathered hippies in Golden Gate Park, a sprawling space that was a place to chill during the reign of hippies and is now home to an AIDS memorial and the California Academy of Sciences.

Clearly times have changed and for every message denouncing greed and capitalism there is a shopkeeper willing to put a price tag on it.

The plethora of souvenir shops on Haight St are well stocked with screen-printed tie-dye shirts fresh out of Beijing and images of pop art and protests adorning coffee mugs that sell for $US6.99 a pop. Even some of the smoke shops seem to have lost their edge, blaring Katy Perry and selling mass-produced key rings and other items emblazoned with pot leaves. It seems these are aimed less at people who enjoy a toke and more at teenage girls who loudly announce that they can see pink elephants after a puff on a spliff.

I soon find that the spirit of the '60s is better enjoyed in some of the long-established coffee joints that line the street. Dreadlocked waiters walk the floor and the walls house autographed posters of defunct psychedelic rock bands.

Nursing a mint green tea in a little cafe called Coffee to the People, my eyes wander over the walls that are covered with so many outspoken bumper stickers that I feel like I'm trying to find the sailboat in a Magic Eye picture. As I absorb messages including ``Peace is Patriotic'' and ``Power to (insert downtrodden minority here)'', it occurs that I have been here all day, and not once has some redneck screeched out their car window about my fishnets, skull charms and black bows breeding on my head.

Indeed, in this oasis of peace (also the lesbian and gay capital of the world) you could express yourself by wearing naught but sparkly pink hotpants and a bra made of live turtles and the only questions asked would be, ``So what do you feed them?''.

Delightfully quirky clothing stores have sprouted like mushrooms and offer everything from vintage party outfits to burlesque nipple pasties. I am delighted to find a Bettie Page outlet store as I wander down Haight. An average dress costs about $US140 and the boat-necked gowns and circle skirt designs of yesteryear are stylish without looking like costumes. I debate whether my cash should go towards a teal secretary's dress or a cab fare to the airport.

Regrettably, common sense wins out, but I do invest in a Pokemon-like action figure from the nearby toy store Kidrobot. It becomes my constant companion until losing its pink limbs under a weight of second-hand comics. RIP Mr Pinky.

The peace parades have long since been replaced by gay pride events, while the city's homeless are growing in number. The latter are particularly noticeable around the notorious Tenderloin district where I do my best to ignore aggressive panhandlers. I seek refuge in a record store after a man gets angry at me for not responding to his mating call of ``Your walk sounds sexy'' and spend the next 20 minutes sifting through compilation albums from bands which never quite made it past this street.

There are many shops like this, and in among all the peace signs, coffee mugs and bong-gas mask ensembles, it's a reminder that behind almost every counterculture are bands that use music to unite and mobilise people. And while local businesses make money off a movement that ended decades before the shops themselves opened, the fact that the flower power that was mocked by conservatives decades ago is still being celebrated today is a sign of an enduring legacy.

One that didn't die with tie-dye.

[Link]

Reporting live from NYC!

Yesterday I was a complete fucking tourist and went past the Statue of Liberty before going up the Empire State Building. It was crowded with tourists and I spent 15 minutes on the observation deck after spending like 2 hours in line. Damn you for raising my hopes Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan :(

I've done a lot of death marches around town, plodding painfully along to various attractions including the Museum of Sex (they had a furry costume head on display) and The Daily Show studio where I was sadly turned away due to a lack of standby tickets ;_; In one of my many toe-torturing strolls around town, I rounded a bend into a side street. There weren't many people there, and a nearby construction site had that nasty smell of smog. I spent a lot of time looking at the strange mega-machines inside that site, managing to peer down into the dirty pit they'd dug out full of rubble and stagnated water. It was hard for my brain to make the connection that this stinking, dusty pit was the reason why we're not allowed to take nail files on planes anymore, or how us Gen Y'ers who had little to no memory of the Cold War were all of a sudden introduced to a new enemy. And our generation's war isn't nearly as legendary as the glorious bloodbaths of our forefathers.

And now, I must bathe with the shower on full heat to take the sting out of this sunburn. I look like Zoidberg :(

Ahahaha I can dfeewl each one of my teaath induvudally in my gumns. I saw this guy wtonight and hge was asking to dance but we didn't want todance with him and he got sad so I offered and he ways real y gau and grindinga gainst my leg but he was pretty flamboyant and weronte for the TV fguys so its okauy ghaha. But omg that bud light wtf i had like three driks and smoked a lotta weed but the bid light just fuked me over and now i can feel all my teeth insuvidually and my ears are ringing and my cheek feels warm and itchy. I'm in Caliofornia bitchezesdzzzzz

Behold, my first purchase from an actual brand since... God, last year O_O There's been so many dresses where I've liked the pattern and not the design or vice versa (jelly rolls don't help either), but I think I'm slowly starting to get back into things having sorted out something resembling a work-life balance (lol, not really).

Oh sweet Jesus it's so cold, time to hide beneath the doona... with you <3

Current Mood: excited

*Go to Lolita meet-up
*Play a game involving pairs
*Choose boyfriend as team mate
*Oh shit, the game involves picking obscure dress names and Lolita celebs out of a hat and getting your partner to guess what they are by describing them
*Partner is non-gay and male
*Still end up coming second

Current Mood: tired

OMG gais need advice!

I want to do uber-gothic lolita for Supanigra and wanted to use a mask. (Harlequin tights are on the way!)

I've narrowed it down to these three:
Plague doctor.
Feathers ftw?
I'm a fuckin' crow.
Bootyfly.

Thoughts?

Dear family: Stop getting cancer n' shit.

Looks like my only remaining aunt has got a dark mass on her brain scans. She's already been fighting breast cancer for 10 years and is in her 70s so it doesn't look good. We're not super close but we get on well and have great phone conversations. (We're both cynics to all hell.) The thing I'm worried about is, she's Dad's sister and the last of his immediate family outside of me and it would be so sad for him to have her die. They always spend hours on the phone talking about "back in my" day stuff, and it would be awful for him to lose that connection to his mostly-deceased family. So we're all going to go out for lunch soon, hopefully. I hope she sticks around this existence for a while.

On a brighter note, today has been quite nice/busy. Matt and I finally made it to breakfast at the Gunshop Cafe and only had to wait in line 10 minutes. Sweet potato hashbrowns and delicious mochas are just what I need at 9am! After that we checked out GoMA where we scorned the 4chan wall and eventually progressed to the standard art gallery where they have some Renaissance art on display at the moment. I always love looking at old stuff, be it paintings or fossils. They're like time machines that give you a glimpse into another plain of existence.

Oh Lord, I'm at home on a Saturday night, what's up with that? Honestly I've been keeping a low profile this week just because work+social life means I have a lot to catch up on. Still, I need to hit up the Bowery again at some point.

Current Mood: exhausted

Did anyone else see this on Bodyline? It's a knock off of a Vivienne Westwood jacket. I guess they're extending their reach?

OLD MAN STORY TIEMZ: Back in 1999 it has fucking hard to get music. Sure there was Napster (God rest its soul), but if the person you were downloading from went offline you were left with half a song. Plus it took about 40 minutes for a single file to download. I took to recording songs off the radio with my mic.

ONLY JUST NOW have my nostalgia powers resurrected those songs from my memory and I feel like a 70 year old who has just realised he can listen to The Beatles on JewTube. Prepare to nostalgia in 3... 2...

FAPFAPFAPFAPFAPFAPFAP

Highlight of my Christmas weekend: Visiting a drive-thru Zarraffa's twice in one day. Why don't we have shit like that here ;~;

So yeah, went down to the Coast with Matt and spent Christmas Day downing Strongbows and obscure wines. We also checked out Surfer's which was difficult because it's been raining since, I don't know, February. We found one of those Happy Herb shops where Matt and his sister bought some vanilla-flavoured cigarettes while I was distracted by a muscle balm for your lady parts called Tight Lips.

Matt got me a nice watch for Christmas and some epic Tokidoki hairclips from Surfer's with little heart crossbones on them <3 So cute. Upon my return I found some delicious vodka waiting for me from my family. I have 2 bottles of the stuff now, and a bottle of Strawberry Daiquiri mix from Matt. Fuck yeah, awesome NYE ahead! (Speaking of which, is anything going on for New Year's? I haven't even thought about that yet...)

"Here's to alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems."

Current Mood: tired

Anyone got some good corp goth inspiration pics on hand? My first pay cheque will probably be going to Modcloth and TaoBao for "acceptable alternative" stuff I can wear into the office. Like I really needed another excuse to buy clothes.

I'm enjoying my last few days of freedom before I start at the Courier-Mail two Mondays from now. I still don't have my grades back, it'd be pretty shit if I'd failed a course right as I'd been accepted into a grad program >_> Life likes to troll me like that sometimes. On the flip side, Kylz, Jess, Caitlin and I are roaming West End for celebratory cocktails tomorrow night which is going to be so much fun! (I'm starting to feel like we're the Sex and the City girls without the prostitution.) I just hope I'll be able to sober up for Harry Potter in the morning X_x

Look at those perky pink anuses. Really puts things in perspective.

Current Mood: nervous

Soooooooooooo...

I have been called into the Courier Mail for a follow-up interview :D So I'm very hopeful! Thing is, I've never really been to a second-round interview (outside of trial retail stuff), so I'm not sure what to expect :/ Last time it was daunting... four dudes in business suits who looked as though they'd never smiled in their lives... scary editor types I guess. And there were these big glass security gates you had to go through, I assume so no one could steal the precious news being manufactured (which also explains all the chimneys).

Anyway... fingers crossed 2.0!

Tonight

bakames ,

xelyna and I toddled over to

vrrrrt 's for debauchery and lulz. I think that I"m gradually starting to accept cider into my life. Fruit = healthy, amirite?

Also, I have The Human Sexipede if anyone wants it!

Current Mood: hopeful

Today was weird, and having an active imagination, I can't stop thinking about it.

I took the company car out to Wacol to cover a story about a new police training centre. I'd never been out there before and it was like being transported into a movie. On one side of the tracks there's your standard low-end housing, milk bars and fish and chips shops, but on the other are some sinister buildings hidden behind shrub and hills. There are a number of facilities out there including the prison, youth detention centre, and mental institution. There are few trees sprouting from the red soil, and it feels 10 degrees hotter than the rest of Brisbane. That squiggly little Queensland Government logo you're used to associating with festivals and buses is juxtaposed onto big white buildings with high walls and razor wire.

I drove up to the top of a hill where an old concrete guard tower stood. As I got out of the car, I turned to see a kangaroo staring at me. I'd never seen one outside of the zoo and was feeling awfully white bread. Sadly I saw another kangaroo that say, lying by the side of the road with its neck twisted :(

So yeah, they showed us the new police cars and some bits and pieces of the new facility which was full of old buildings with broken windows. It also overlooked the prison. All you could see were roofs. I keep thinking about it. I want to know what life is like behind those big white walls. It wouldn't be a newsworthy story because there's been plenty of doccos done on life on the inside, but how can you not be curious about something like that?

I met up with Matt later that day and we had coffee in King George Square. As I looked at the clock tower, my mind kept drifting back to that hidden part of Brisbane that felt like being sent into another dimension.

Edit: Mah story.

Current Mood: thoughtful

Today I photographed a buttfuck of places for Melbourne Cup (Brisbane Times internship this week!). A number of things happened and my feet are currently leaking puss. But aside from Stefan offering me a prawn, the most interesting part of my day was this:

>Doing some vox pops
>Ask people how they feel about interest rate hikes
>Find out they're trainers
>They won $30, 000 and buy me a drink so I'll stay while they tell me stories
>Fuck yeah, this is what life is all about!
>Aging foul-mouthed baby boomer asks to take picture with me
>Look down, his hand is hovering over my boob but I humour him (no actual contact)
>Turn to say something to him
>HE FULL ON PASHES ME ON THE LIPS

Now that said, there is a chance that there was no drunken debauchery involved and he was just trying to suck the youth out of me. At least Matt and I got a bit of a giggle out of it when recounting the tale. (Take a moment to read one of my articles so my mouth-AIDS won't have been in vain!)

SIDE NOTE: Brisbane Times will run a story I pitched this week that is a little bit... frilly :D

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friezaess

My arty stoof

November 2012

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Easily Distracted

Here there be milky discharge

Recent Entries

NaNoWriMo 2012

Then and now- a look back at how fandoms have changed over the years

Lolita crisis

Lucky Pack GET!

GLORIOUS NIPPON

Sale time

Humbly requesting a favour

Of hippies and hash

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Pink bits

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Materialism

Who arted?

Moozak

Merry Monday

It's the final count down- dun dun dun dun!

Are we there yet?

My advice: Don't ever go crazy.

xoxox

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November 2012

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