It’s all a part of my mania for recording. I take photos of my house, places I go to regularly, friend’s houses, their tattoos, random visions that litter my day.

 Tuesday, 19 September 1995  8:11AM Hey Sis. I made it in. Just after finishing yesterday’s entry I packed my bags and went home.  Just felt way too crappy, went home and rang Mum for some hay fever advice and followed it to the letter. Made me feel a hell of a lot better actually.  So I sat on my couch, read my Sartre and listened … Continue reading It’s all a part of my mania for recording. I take photos of my house, places I go to regularly, friend’s houses, their tattoos, random visions that litter my day.

I wish I could be happy with less.

J’s Diary Entry Friday, 15 September 1995 I was walking down Puckle Street, looking at couples strolling as I strode (only single people stride) and thought “How come they can manage it and I can’t? and then I got depressed, then realised that getting depressed so quickly is the reason I can’t manage what they can, which was depressing in itself.  It’s weird, Dad said … Continue reading I wish I could be happy with less.

Meditation? Please! – I can’t even keep my feet still let alone my mind.

Tuesday, 5 September 1995  9:06am Whacko! New Discipline J is rearing to go! Yessiree. Up at the crack ‘a dawn. (Ten past seven – close enough.) I feel good. I was up early, I did a load of washing, I even included two extra ingredients in my sandwiches today.  I feel good.  I didn’t even pig out last night – I’m on the Wagon o’ … Continue reading Meditation? Please! – I can’t even keep my feet still let alone my mind.

How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

Friday, 1 September 1995 9:14am I’m here.  I made it!  Roasted – purified – by the flames of public transport.  Lordy it was a trial.  You just never know what’s in store for you.  I’m standing there at the tram stop, waiting to be whooshed along tram arteries to the sticky furious heart of the city, pounding, pounding, pounding.  I get on, move to a spot … Continue reading How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

I think I might have peaked as far as socializing goes.

Wednesday, 30 August 1995 9:23am Great start to the morning, Sis.  I get in to work and there’s an invitation to a party on my desk.  Lisa (one of the other Editors here) is having a house-cooling (as opposed to house-warming party.”)  And – dammit! – they’ve given me too much notice to have a bogus excuse – “Oh sorry, the second of September?  I’ve … Continue reading I think I might have peaked as far as socializing goes.

It’s impractical working with extraordinarily attractive people.

Tuesday, 29 August 1995 9:37am Oh Dear S, you’ll never guess what’s happened.  Someone attractive is working here.  I mean really attractive, like Sale-of-the-Century-model attractive. This is an ill wind Sis.  I don’t want someone extraordinarily attractive swanning around the place making me feel self-conscious.  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Have you ever encountered this sort of thing in your working life?  I just wanna work with … Continue reading It’s impractical working with extraordinarily attractive people.

I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

Saturday, 12 August 1995  11:55am S, Yeah, check that date – I’m in at work on a Saturday.  And what a Saturday it is too, the mercury is set to soar to 17°, the sun is actually shining, and I’m here working.  Mum’s coming in to meet me at 2pm, and after she jumps back in her horseless carriage and zooms back to “Poo Town”, … Continue reading I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.

Tuesday, 8 August 1995 1:27pm Wheeeeeeeeee.  I’m feeling all light-headed from champagne, courtesy of Cav.  He and his Dad, Jeremy and I just downed a bottle in the tea room.  Some cafe gave it to Cav at Christmas for being a regular customer.  It was nice, I’m no champagne connoisseur, but it was light and tangy.  It’s Cav’s farewell proper tonight.  Drinks at “Klicks” then … Continue reading I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.

If everything is pointless, why not do anything, absolutely anything?

Wednesday, 26 July 1995 9:11am Howdy S, Another day.  Woke up late, no time to make my lunch.  Crept into my clothes, sleep unfurling smokily from my back as the tram sped me down Flemington Road.  And now here I am again, at this desk, blank as a soldier.  What difference does any of it make anyhow?  We’re all of us just big old sacks … Continue reading If everything is pointless, why not do anything, absolutely anything?

I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, too plain, too sedentary.

J has cut out and completely removed three quarters of this page – all that remains is what he wrote at the bottom which follows. J’s Diary Entry  – Tuesday, 25 July 1995 Cav’s going to Canberra for a job interview tomorrow.  He’ll get the job, and he’ll leave (me) and go on to a fabulous life, never looking back.  I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, … Continue reading I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, too plain, too sedentary.