indulgennnnnt.

today i was an absolute glutton for self-indulgent behaviour.

the concept of sleeping in is as familiar to me as a mirror to amy winehouse. my days often start at six, seven, & even sundays i wake up at seven thirty to catch an eight thirty body pump class at fatness first. I WOKE UP AT TEN THIS MORNING...& while it may not be that momentous for anyone else but me, those extra three hours of r.e.m. & its cyclical ways were sweet sweet occasions of triumph, like the first time riding a bike! like telling your dad to 'take one for the team' after he talks about the life insurance windfall to come in case anything happens to him!

my justification: yesterday i rose at five forty in the morning because i had a six thirty (til three!!) shift, & only stumbled home past one thirty from the nouvelle vague gig... which, incidentally was phenomenalamazingmindblowinglylifealtering.

just in case my sporadic fusion of adverbs & adjectives did not aptly convey my sentiment, it was, uh, good.

i have a terrible case of lust for one of the two nouvelle vague chanteuse's - nadeah miranda - her voice, poise, amazing genetics, & unparalleled caliber of sex appeal was enough to fill the room with standing ovations... in the pants. (ohohoh see what i did there?!)

picture of nadeah miranda clearly not taken by these shaking hands & clearly not used with permission from sendell on flickr (thank you, whoever you are):



anyway, back to my self-indulgent ways... my fiesta of siesta was matched by my shopping. i purchased assorted christmas-related objects, a dress, four pairs of shoes, self-tanning shiz (because i want to be orange!) & some goodbye cellulite that damn-better-well be potent like kevin federline's nasty bizness!



financial crisis, i bite my teenage thumb at you!

& just because i feel like it, i will disclose the youtube comments that really get my blood boiling. surprisingly, it's not the "your* ugly / fat / stupid / lame / boring, you stupidasian / bitch / whore / slagtitpoopmothertruckingcrackwhale" comments. (* means that grammatical prowess has been retained for accuracy).

rather it's the ones that read, "you have too much time on your hands, get a life," mainly because it's quite le contraire. i really don't have too much time on my hands. in fact, without making videos, i already struggle to keep up with work shifts, academic responsibilities, household duties & minimal social interaction. when i make videos, i do so at the cost of something else. i extract myself from social situations or i edit away during hours that should be spent sleeping because when it comes to art & some kind of creative expression, i will & i do rearrange my priorities around it.

in recent times, i've come to acknowledge that my life is art. my life is creating. not much gives me the same kind of satisfaction & fulfillment from a finished product, irregardless of its quality. sorry that my definition of 'life' does not conform to your closed-minded perceptions of it being a weekly occurrence of empty beer bottles, a thousand pictures with my pouting hot friends at hip locations like a club bathroom or on youporn.com's premium collection, smoking at a parking lot all heavy-eyelinered & setting ducks on fire, & shoplifting chocolates at kmart.

so sincerely sorry that my lifestyle may actually contribute to a small iota of worth when i grow up. shove it up your filthy asses & get burning hemorrhoids in the process, mother truckers!

...i'm so disillusioned with relative exposure, can you tell? i don't understand how you youtube elite put up with it. goodnight.

short & superficial



went to le bull last night because rose demanded that we partake in the viewing pleasure of her guitar idol, who was on drums that night. my ears are still ringing, but it could quite possibly just be my electric fan & the jarring sounds of the neighbours' pavement being, you know, re-paved.

matty of the rockstar variety was also in my vicinity by fluke, i say, fluke! he had the set before rose's to catch... this odd timing business is wickedinsane.

anyway, happysnaps of rose, nerida & i:




aaaaand, nerida looks like cate blanchett...yes yes oh yay?!

self-reflection & the subsequent waaa waaas



the lack of blogging is not an indication of the dullness of my world & the lack of worthy things to write bout. if anything, it's the exact opposite.

since my last post, i've started about five separate entries on five separate occasions, with fingers itching to spill spill spill & preserve words, emotions & the whiteness of afterthoughts. the thing is, i take this process of preservation very seriously (lame, i know). much like the egyptians just couldn't skip brain-extractions-through-nostrils & proper embalming, & still call it 'mummification', i can't just write one dismissive sentence on things momentous & expect to feel fulfilled with my blogging quota.

if i can't write about something with the depth & the justice it needs, i'd much rather scrap it to the legions of my memory instead. aaaaaand this is probably (& unsurprisingly) called being obsessive compulsive in most modern societies, BUT THIS IS JUST HOW THIS NIKSTER TICKS, OKAY.

anyway, last week i was privy to something momentous, something set in motion through my own accord. it took a lot of sleepless nights of fine tuning of words, anxiety, tears, but most of all, conviction. it wasn't momentous for what it was; it was momentous because for once, i acted on something i believed in. complete honesty is a terrifying thing... but as fulfilling in its wake.

i did establish that this was going to be a long post, but i'm much too drained to even get to the guts of what this post was going to be about. in order to really clear my head & start fresh with this new year, i wanted to list & acknowledge the things that are weighing me down, as well as list & acknowledge the things that will keep me optimistic this new year. maybe tomorrow. it's for my personal clarity, more than anything.

for now, i leave with the enthralling parting words of, "I WANT MY GYM GLOVES BACK".
i left my gloves at the gym several weeks ago, & proceeded to check lost & found the next day. no luck. the other day, my mother saw someone wearing my sweaty, bacteria-ridden, iron-pumping gloves.

i fully emphasise that they were my gloves because i bought them overseas two years ago & hence that style was & is not procurable in australia. :(

speaking of endorphins, eating gives me the same kind of satisfaction as working out. the following are visual representations of what i ate & what i didn't eat at the bakery's christmas party dinner. the chicken rigattoni in spinach cream sauce was absolutely divine! & the chocolate drenched waffle & my mouth missed the chance at some sweet, sweet procreation because i stupidly ordered the apple & rhubarb crumble... which tasted like crappy porridge, & hence, does NOT deserve a picture. hmph.




& because people are sometimes fun to look at, here is rose hiding behind her hands because apparently she likes monkeys (her shirt told me so), plus renata & i being gangster, or maybe just odd.




& ONE MORE THING.
david who approached me today, if you're reading this, which you probably aren't, thank you very much for conversation. i can't tell you how much i appreciated a little boost of faith in humanity (:

basically, at work, this man (to be later known as david), approached the counter & said, "you're hilarious!" i assumed he had seen me dancing & prancing around the bakery, generally fulfilling the dictionary definition of 'strange'. instead, he spoke of how i had served him the other day & how i looked familiar & it clicked when he saw my face on youtube. he was just incredibly encouraging & lovely & telling me to quit wasting my time at the bakery & get the hell on out to where i can play with talents. it was just unexpected & refreshing. in all honesty, i have been feeling sensitive about all the recent negativity on my videos mainly because of the circumstances i've got on my plate at the moment. the straw may be almost weightless, but eventually there will be the one that breaks the back. my inability to brush nasty words aside with grace are these straws right now, & as superficial as this may sound, david's validation & dismissal of those people... could not have come at a better time.

anyway, exhausted, exhausted.
one fourteen a.m. & i need to get up bright & early to do some laundry before i jet off to le bakery. again. i used to love christmas until i started working in retail. ugh. happy freaking thursday.

i just sneezed all over my keyboard.


acquired ze green p's just in time for ze approaching christmukkah season! that's right, my baby greens shit all over your red p's & yellow l's. i can legally drive ten km's higher than previously allowed, oh mirth & rapture! (i don't want to hear anything from all you full gold-licensed beasts. I WILL THROW YOUR BALD PATCHES & WRINKLES IN YOUR FACES, old cretens!)

anyway, i was ragingly fired up last night. about circumstance. about honesty & it's complete lack thereof. & i was so ready to drop expletives on this mother trucker of a blog like samuel jackson with some mother trucking snakes on a mother trucking plane.

& much like human emotion is as fickle as the hearts of males (oh i went there!), the rage isn't occupying my head & hands right now.

but i digress.
out of this lifetime, i want two things, & by 'this lifetime', i actually mean 'the next ten minutes'. one being french mudcake, & two being urination. as an early christmas present to myself, i have been paying in installments for a generous case of DIABETES! want...mud...cake...now...

you know what, clarity really isn't on my side, so i'mma assault (& a-pepper) some viewing eyes before i skedaddle.

here is an image of me being coy & persistent & downright clingy. the second picture is just a zooom.


higher-res is available for consumption on flickr.

aaaaand two 'outtakes' or images i didn't use:



unexpectedly most substantial word in the history of my ever is 'babycakes'. totally rocking my world, fat-boulder on a dingy sailboat style. i'll tell you when you're older.

& i have pictures from ausone sydney youchoob gathering schmathering which i may put up. or not.

the imbalance of circumstance.


i feel weightless, but i feel restrained.
circumstance is full of ironies right now, but in time everything will unravel.

i'll tell you then.

goodnight.
xx

mental health day

i stayed home today & did absolutely nothing productive, bar the laundry (which i didn't even fold. ho ho ho).

i don't recall the last time i had absolutely no commitments - uni, work, social or otherwise - & had an actual day for myself. & I TOTALLY CELEBRATED IT IN STYLE, running amok the way snakes might, had they some legs, & getting the creative juices pump-pump-pumping the way i do at the servo station... oh yeahhhhh.

with a new youtube video comes the plethora of unused footage, & i decided to take screenshots that are testament to how attractive my expressions actually are. with no further ado, this is nikki - redefining poise:






anyway, it's been an eventful week. i meant to blog after hilary's twenteenth on the weekend, but as senility often hits the young, supple adult, i don't remember all the profound things i would have spilled, so images of the beautiful hil will have to suffice. (she's glowinggg) :





also, i keep receiving assorted foodstuffs from the male variety while at work. i guess my physique makes no secret of what is important to me in this lifetime (FOOOOODZZZ). thank you suitors, past present & future. i am easily bribed by food (as you already know), empty promises to neverland, thumbtacks, & terrible car smells!

would just like to take a moment to say i am grateful for many things, clumsiness being the most unexpected source of thanks. this one's for you, rare stranger.

good night chiklets.
xx

picspam.



the above was the very first picture of myself on my new canon 1000D. am totally breaking it in, self-indulgent style!

anyway, the smallest creature of my family turned fourteen & had a small celebration of sorts. i was the appointed pho-ho-to-ma-tographer for the night. MY FAVOURITE SNAPS ARE AS FOLLOWS:






i really really really like the next one of ze mama & za papa. it's the classiest they've ever been:


& this is what happens when you let small children maneuver the camera. chopped limbs & the like!


anyway, i'm out of here (here being e-space) like diarrhea from a queasy gut!

hey, to the stranger who brought me a mango at work, thanks. 'twas an unexpected & refreshing present, much like when the school bully only punches out four of your teeth instead of the six he originally threatened to. refreshing, i say!

you will be jealous.


this is what nikki & min get up to when left to own devices, behind closed doors.
ze sexual tension is undeniable.

people & providence?

this picture will have some relevance in a few paragraphs time.


but for now, some thoughts:
human interaction is much like walking through a revolving door.
most of the time, we get through okay. sometimes, the glass hits you straight in the face.

today, entailed one of these casualties.

so, at work, the lunch rush ensues & four hundred twelve different conversations are zipping past my head. i'm at the coffee-machine when ** asks if i can make coffee for her customer too. 'that's fine' i say, 'please just take care of the rest of this man's order'. twenty-six hours later, i'm still frothing milk & sprinkling sweeteners (because everyone decides to have their caffeine fix then & there like it's going out of fashion) & customer man is still waiting for the rest of his order, impatience growing on the tips of his nose & cheeks. in the midst of making everyone else's mocha-choca-latte-ya-ya, he asks me (nay, sternly asks me) to get the rest of his order. stress is not nice colours on me, & my haste & exasperation (at ** for failing to help this man out) were perceived by man. he got defensive, & for lack of a better term, i got a verbal lesson from him about attitude.

i wasn't angry at him, but at her. but in this instant i became angry at the world the way hercules was angry at hades when the large-ass pillars collapsed on meg (walt disney version, of course). i may or may not have been rude & dismissive back?

time elapsed, as it often does, & tempers simmered. i saw the man approaching again, & immediately as he got to the counter, i wore my sincerest face & told him i was sorry for earlier. i explained that my annoyance was not directed at him, but rather a bad case of antsyness at the growing mob & exasperation at **. he smiled, offered his own apologies & all was well in the world. this is the part where the door keeps spinning & you run with it like the five year old amazed with centrifugal motion.

NOW FOR THE IMAGE RELEVANCE:
this post is about people & the odd ways people waltz in to your life.

those of you ample readership (of maybe 2) in australia would know of thirsty merc, the band. now, on my youtube front page is a video called "emancipate myself" by said band... i don't quite know how to narrate this story creatively, so i'll skip the frills & get on to the bit where matt baker, original guitarist of band, writes me a message on youtube.

the sequence of events leading up to the message is as follows:
matt has an upcoming audition for a pink floyd tribute show. matt decides to prowl youtube for pink floyd videos. matt needs to lean over the computer & fiddle with something technical or other. matt's elbow accidentally nudges a button, which causes the mouse hovering over my face to load up. matt watches video of strange girl possibly with a mixed sense of curiosity & disgust (am banking on 98% disgust). matt considers writing to girl to let her know of how odd she is, but decides against it because writing to strange girls on the internet is (a) something he never does, (b) unorthodox, & (c) probably worthy of capital punishment. matt clicks on strange girl's front page instead, & low & behold, there he is rocking out in the small screen on autoplay, on the front of her page. matt did the right thing by the stars & messaged the strange girl.

anyway, there is talk of some musical union & (small-time) gigs, but i am unbearably excited. EXCITED, I SAY.

now here i am posing haughtily with a rare thirsty merc 3-track album. matthew is second from left.



hot damn!
only one final work left to hand in, & i can shove this semester straight up all of your collective behinds. SUMMER, come on down! my intentions for this summer are entirely creative: musicmusicmusic, videos & photography.

on a note of finality,
nikki is a proud new owner of a canon 1000d digital-slr! BIG FAT HOOZAH FOR AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHY :D

christmoween.



i'm finishing up damned feature article & i want all one thousand five hundred words done before my head hits the pillow tonight & starts dreaming of business ventures & diet plans.

too bad i'm using my words on a blog & not on the artikol. (i figured eight hundred & sixty words was an alright place to pause.)

anyway, halloween party tomorrow & i might rock up as christmas. green dress, red shoes, tinsel, nay?

oh my lord. ten forty four p.m. & work starts at six thirty a.m. tomorrow. i neeeed to finish this article NOW.

nanowrimo also starts tomorrow & am envious of alex day who seems to have concrete for ideas while i have vapour or, if we're feeling poetic, smoke from a slow-burning cigar. i've got my very loose story idea & my four characters, but other than that, they are one dimensional &
the plot is as sparse as my natural poise. shit. i also have large, obnoxious assessments which take precendence over said story. I'M SO SORRY NANOWRIMO, PLEASE LOVE ME STILL.

a picture is worth a thousand words, & i'm in grave need of six hundred & forty.
in exchange, i leave six hundred & forty words worth one of my finer moments:

a cumulation of things.

i had a nap today, & it was fifty kinds of surreal. my most vivid (& possibly last) recollection of my naps is from back in the fifth grade, for three consecutive afternoons after i lost a gold bracelet with elephant charms from my grandmother.

i suppose that even then, i decisively took my reality diluted with doses of wonderland.

i can't get myself to write this damn feature article. have been struggling for days now. i am, however, consoling myself with the fact that i only have three assessments left to submit, & a little over a week of class left. halle-freaking-berry! (you see what i did there? you totally didn't expect "berry" in lieu of "llujah", don't even pretend!)

let me reiterate this: ONE WEEK OF UNI LEFT FOR THE ENTIRE YEAR. & BOY, AM I EXCITED. think of all the havoc i could wreak with that elusively pesky thing called free-time!

speaking of university, two years down my degree, mother says that maybe communications wasn't for me. maybe psychology would've been more appropriate for me since i apparently have a knack for this advice bizness. i lovingly remind her that back in 2006 when considering a course to undertake, i said i wanted to try my hand at psychology. her peanut of wisdom then went something like this:

"psychology? but you're crazy enough to go to a shrink yourself!"
haw haw haw. i'd like to think that my empathy for/with the insane isn't such a terrible thing to have.

anyway, here are two pictures which should give some insight into the extent of my wholesomeness. watch for how lovingly i stare at the queenster!



&
a few other general things which i feel the need to get off my chest.

* i don't care that second-person narration is tricky business. i will damn well write my stories in second-person-omniscient because that is how i want them to read. eat shit, english conventions & my writing course!

* if you are driving fifty km/h in a seventy zone in front of me, i would like to put you in a human-sized container with leeches & feces. i would like to put you anywhere that is not on my roads.

* my life would attain that extra inch of fulfillment without beyonce. before you throw a revolution in my face, let me remind you that you may not like your gardener. you may not like that kid who sits in front of you in world history who drops fart-bombs like he's misguided american-supremacy & your face is hiroshima. (oh snappp, i went there!) you may not like people who breathe with the same haste as you, & this might all be unjustified & hardly valid. whatever the case, i don't like beyonce.

* i am so annoyed by people who contribute to the gen-y barrage. be quiet, you old cretens! we're not all lazy & spoiled & living off mom & dad's gift-wrapped hundred dollar bills. i study full time & i work a combined total of about thirty hours a week for both of my jobs. i'm ambitious & trying to make something of myself here, & i can name a lot of my cohorts who feel the same way i do. go back to your oatmeal & laxatives.

this has turned quite rage-encrusted! i think right now, i just have some much needed perspective & clarity on a lot of things. i...i am nice on better days, i promise!

i part with this video of kate-miller-heidke who is superabsolutelyphenomenal. i adore her & would very much like to see her perform, as well as threaten her with my company for dinner!

azns.





photos yoinked from baz.

eventful weekend, to say the least, & dark undereyes like alaskan winter nights & blotchy skin will attest to this. exhaustion surpasses desire for stringing words & thoughts together. this means no coherence tonight. (not like there usually is).

favourite:


plenty more where this came from so you'll just have to deal if i want to show off my friends' faces. ha.

p.s. absolute girlcrush on ruby rose. hothothothot, want.

a year ago exactly


this happened.

has new.



personal space is a myth on peak-hour-trains.
we find elbows in the ears & blonde hair in the mouths. in the carriage, there are four with eyes crouched over books; three of these are unexpected. three are young. palming neil gaiman's fragile things, i do not think of the essays i have to write or the dinner i may have to make. the man with the briefcase & tired eyes is not thinking of falling interest rates. the boy with the nice jawline is reading to kill a mockingbird & is not thinking of kicking his friend in the shins. the boy with the book i wasn't sneaky enough to catch the title of, is not thinking of the train's low hum.

this boy with the book with the unknown title, he doesn't have as nice a jawline, but somehow, his face is more appealing.

i decide that the fourth time he looks my way, i will smile. the thing about the stories worth telling though, is that they're usually full of irony. & in this case, i sat the rest of the way home with lips pursed to the sky.

growth


my hair grows fast.

i've decided that i'm going to keep my new year's resolutions this coming year. i have the convictions of a droopy-eyed fence-sitter & i don't take kindly to change, which is why i'm giving myself these two months to accept them like an accidental newborn.

resolutions:
* write my young adult novel
* write my adult literary novel
* complete a writing exercise every week (i'm very open to writing prompts, guys)
* start gigging, & in effect, get my stage presence up
* actually run the city2surf (i've done the 14km fun run two years in a row now. my endurance is like stale bread so i don't run the entire thing.)
* do chin ups without assistance
* have nice hamstrings, triceps & deltoids (screw the glutes & adductors, i want those babies!)
* be more patient / tolerant
* stop caring about the people who don't matter
* (EDIT) collab with wirrow - i thought you'd never ask (:

everyone & everything will let you down eventually. the only way to stay sane is to not let yourself down.

p.s. made a video the other day. it was shithouse like cable tv's decision to axe oldschool nickelodeon. never seeing the light of day just like the little boy in my closet.

p.p.s. i am terribly disappointed at my inability to justify spending greater than eighty dollars worth on three books. times is hard, yo.
* no one belongs here more than you: miranda july
* love in the time of cholera: gabriel garcia marquez
* unaccustomed earth: jhumpa lahiri

waaaaaaaaaaaaant :(

twenty


happy twentieth birthday to my favourite hughberry, the lad with the best bowel movements in town! you are no longer young & supple. do include prunes in your daily diet if you want to retain your title.

first to leave his little shindig because i'm a slave to the not-so-corporate cause & must wake up in a few hours time for my six thirty shift.

today, i thought minnicus died / was being held hostage without my consent but possibly with her consent.
we made plans to meet after my delectably boring class at one. one o clock came & went, as did one thirty. still, there was no minnicus. after nine calls & two txts that remained unanswered & about thirty seven perves at passersby, treff* & i decided to trudge away to chinatown. i wondered several times aloud about the kind of condition i'd find my minnicus in. at five, i get a phonecall from an apologetic minnicus, saying she left her phone at home & had the library clock to go by. thing is, daylight savings happened & the library is like a wrinkling woman with a cane - just not quick to get with the times, literally. so min waited around at her version of one o clock, which is more handsomely known as two o clock. but regardless, I LOVE YOU. EVEN FATE CANNOT KEEP US APART.

*treff & i totally looked like twins today, in jeans & tops as white as my conscience. feasting over eastern baked goods & the psychoanalysis of mankind, i wish i could've gotten a picture. but ah, as it turns out, the stars don't play in my favour & i have no pictures of us looking like (accidental) twins. instead, here is an old one that might be almost as charming:


goodnight everyone. sorry about being so cryptic as of late; let's just say that some things are better left unsaid.