One of the redeeming things about being in Melbourne during winter - I say redeeming ecause I'm not one of those strange people who like cold weather, short days, etc. - is the annual Melbourne International Film Festival. Having missed it last year, I was looking forward to it even more this year, and I again bought the mini-pass, meaning I'll be watching 10 films in the festival in a matter of about 14 days. Some short reviews of the films I've seen so far...
Thirst
A Korean vampire film, directed by Park Chan-wook (Old Boy, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance). A priest is inexplicably infected with vampire blood, after volunteering to be a subject for experiments for a vaccine trials. He dies, rises again, and returns to Korea with something of a religious cult following. As he discovers his thirst for blood, he leaves the monastery and becomes entangled in a tryst with a down-trodden married woman.
As in his other films, Park creates a strangely quiet other world, which resembles our own, but has an eerie feeling of being a stage. Thirst felt a little overworked, being part schlocky, humourous vampire flick, and part morality tale. Not your average vampire film, and worth seeing if you're a fan of his other work.
Martyrs
Described as French 'torture-porn', I was a little apprehensive to see this film. I'm not squeamish, but I'm not a huge fan of pointless inflction of pain. Lucie, a girl who inexplicably escapes from an abusive childhood, is both physically and mentally scarred from her experience. She finds some comfort in her friendship with Anna when she's placed in an orphanage, though she is still plagued by nightmarish visions. Cut to fifteen years later, when Lucie tracks down her childhood tormentors, and exacts her revenge. Then the real action ensues.
The problem I had with this film was not exactly the inability to suspend disbelief, but it something close to that. While the explanations that unfold as the film progresses weren't preposterous, I found them a little flimsy. And it seems to me that the film had to have been created around the original premise, which for me seemed a rather weak excuse for the extreme violence which would likely be the prime motivator for much of the film's audience to go and see it.
That being said, the acting was was great, and the cinematography and editing superb. Thrilling, a little chilling, if you can forgive the denouement.
Humpday
Two college friends Ben and Andrew are reunited in something of an indie take on a bromance. Ben is now married and planning to have children, and Andrew has spent his years since college travelling the world. Over the course of a drunken and drug-buffered night, the two talk themselves into making an 'art film' to enter into the local alternative paper's 'Humpfest' amateur porn competition. Leading up to the big event, the two engage in what are often painfully frustrating conversations trying to be 'more open-minded' than one another, while Ben also deals with breaking the news to his wife Anna.
While there wasn't any particular thing wrong with the film, it ultimately didn't work for me, because neither of the two male leads were particularly likeable or engaging. The conversations they shared trying to explore the notions of their masculinity ended up making them both look like a couple of douches who like to think they're self-aware and in touch with their sexuality. I don't know, was that the point? Much like Sideways, there will be people out there who will ejnoy this. I wasn't one of them. Parts of the movie were funny, but mostly I just found it rather dull.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
boysfornoise
So apparently I'm a podcaster now.
Evol Kween and I have been toying around with the idea of making a podcast, because we both listen to podcasts regularly, and damnit, we've got something to say! Well, not really, but we like to talk about stuff, and figured we should have a go at it, seeing as we're both tech/media nerds.
So go have a listen - http://boysfornoise.com/
Feedback welcome!
Evol Kween and I have been toying around with the idea of making a podcast, because we both listen to podcasts regularly, and damnit, we've got something to say! Well, not really, but we like to talk about stuff, and figured we should have a go at it, seeing as we're both tech/media nerds.
So go have a listen - http://boysfornoise.com/
Feedback welcome!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Badass
I've been riding around town on a vespa for the past month. It's an '06 LX125 (read new but retro-styled poseur scooter with a pissy little engine), it's silver, and I've named it Paolo.
When I first got back from Viet Nam, I was convinced that riding a two-wheeler in Australia wasn't for me. The traffic moves a lot quicker here, and the relative number of cars means drivers aren't used to keeping an eye out for motorcycles. And then there's the accident statistics, and that TAC ad which everyone mentioned to me when I tole them of my decision to get a bike, but which I haven't actually seen for myself.
Anyway, until yesterday, I'd been riding around in my duffel coat. Fine for ducking around the corner to the supermarket, but bone-chillingly cold when you're riding at 70km/h. Wind chill's a bitch. Common consensus was I need to get a leather jacket. And though the thought of spending hundreds of dollars on yet another jacket scared me a little, yesterday I finally went down to the moto shops on Elizabeth st in the city, and took the plunge.
Now the main problem (in my mind, anyway) with motorcycle leather jackets, is they're all pretty ugly. But after you try one on, and realise how much 'armour' is embedded in there, you can understand why. It's a lot like that crazy padding the American football players wear. There are hard shoulder, lebow, even back pads; all designed to save your skin etc. if you do have an accident.
Only thing is, when I put my new leather jacket on, it's kind of hard to move. Oh well, at least I can no longer feel the wind. I'm resisting the calls of the safety-conscious to get leather pants.... for now.
When I first got back from Viet Nam, I was convinced that riding a two-wheeler in Australia wasn't for me. The traffic moves a lot quicker here, and the relative number of cars means drivers aren't used to keeping an eye out for motorcycles. And then there's the accident statistics, and that TAC ad which everyone mentioned to me when I tole them of my decision to get a bike, but which I haven't actually seen for myself.
Anyway, until yesterday, I'd been riding around in my duffel coat. Fine for ducking around the corner to the supermarket, but bone-chillingly cold when you're riding at 70km/h. Wind chill's a bitch. Common consensus was I need to get a leather jacket. And though the thought of spending hundreds of dollars on yet another jacket scared me a little, yesterday I finally went down to the moto shops on Elizabeth st in the city, and took the plunge.
Now the main problem (in my mind, anyway) with motorcycle leather jackets, is they're all pretty ugly. But after you try one on, and realise how much 'armour' is embedded in there, you can understand why. It's a lot like that crazy padding the American football players wear. There are hard shoulder, lebow, even back pads; all designed to save your skin etc. if you do have an accident.
Only thing is, when I put my new leather jacket on, it's kind of hard to move. Oh well, at least I can no longer feel the wind. I'm resisting the calls of the safety-conscious to get leather pants.... for now.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Teenage renaissance
Ok, so this blog post is sort of about Taylor Swift.
I know she's another insidious popteen songstress, with the blonde locks and the airbrushed flawless skin. I (refuse to believe but) know she's probably autotuned to within an inch of being Britney.
Witness exhibit A: Love Story
But damnit, I can't stop listening to her sticky-molasses saccharin-toothache of an album.
In part, I think it's just because I've always had a weakness for well-produced pop music. The propsect of running into the track at karaoke in the next few months also excites me - so listening is in fact just practice?
I think there's something a little deeper going on here, though. I was having a slightly drunken conversation with a musician friend of mine about her (he was the one who clued me in on the autotune) and he said he understood while I liked her - he knows me pretty well - and also he could see why she's so popular right now. It was a couple of weeks later that I found out she'd been at number one on the Australian charts for a few weeks. Basically, he said that globally, the market is ready for Swift's style - simple, catchy melodies, uncomplicated (almost naive) lyrics about teenage love, innocent optimism.
Witness exhibit B: You belong with me - note the tried and true ugly-duckling-makeover-gets-the-guy plotline in this one.
Which makes sense, with the constant bombarding of gloomy economic news, and the imminent threat of pandemics, unrelenting news of injustice and wars. Some bubble-headed escapism in the form of a pop tune isn't such a bad thing.
And here's where I get self-indulgent. Things haven't been totally peachy since I came back from my tour of duty in 'Nam. Plagued with annoying (but thankfully not serious) health problems, and struggling to find my feet again with professionally as well as socially, added to some - let's face it - woeful dating adventures, I don't feel so much like I've been treading water, as struggling to keep my head above water.
I can see myself emotionally cocooning. Not unlike what you do when you're a teenager, can't figure out what's going on, and are waiting to grow into who you're 'meant to be'. Who would have thought you can go through that stupid identity-searching teen angst more than once? In any case, the reason I think I'm guiltily enjoying this simple-minded pop music is because I'm waiting for the time when I can stop being a chrysalis again.
I wonder what colours my new wings will be?
I know she's another insidious popteen songstress, with the blonde locks and the airbrushed flawless skin. I (refuse to believe but) know she's probably autotuned to within an inch of being Britney.
Witness exhibit A: Love Story
But damnit, I can't stop listening to her sticky-molasses saccharin-toothache of an album.
In part, I think it's just because I've always had a weakness for well-produced pop music. The propsect of running into the track at karaoke in the next few months also excites me - so listening is in fact just practice?
I think there's something a little deeper going on here, though. I was having a slightly drunken conversation with a musician friend of mine about her (he was the one who clued me in on the autotune) and he said he understood while I liked her - he knows me pretty well - and also he could see why she's so popular right now. It was a couple of weeks later that I found out she'd been at number one on the Australian charts for a few weeks. Basically, he said that globally, the market is ready for Swift's style - simple, catchy melodies, uncomplicated (almost naive) lyrics about teenage love, innocent optimism.
Witness exhibit B: You belong with me - note the tried and true ugly-duckling-makeover-gets-the-guy plotline in this one.
Which makes sense, with the constant bombarding of gloomy economic news, and the imminent threat of pandemics, unrelenting news of injustice and wars. Some bubble-headed escapism in the form of a pop tune isn't such a bad thing.
And here's where I get self-indulgent. Things haven't been totally peachy since I came back from my tour of duty in 'Nam. Plagued with annoying (but thankfully not serious) health problems, and struggling to find my feet again with professionally as well as socially, added to some - let's face it - woeful dating adventures, I don't feel so much like I've been treading water, as struggling to keep my head above water.
I can see myself emotionally cocooning. Not unlike what you do when you're a teenager, can't figure out what's going on, and are waiting to grow into who you're 'meant to be'. Who would have thought you can go through that stupid identity-searching teen angst more than once? In any case, the reason I think I'm guiltily enjoying this simple-minded pop music is because I'm waiting for the time when I can stop being a chrysalis again.
I wonder what colours my new wings will be?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Tremors
I went to Tokyo about four years ago, to visit my sister who was living there at the time. The night I arrived, there was a 5.1 quake at around 3am local time. I slept through it, apparently. I only found out about it the next day when she and her friends were chatting about it.
A couple of weeks ago, there was a 4.7 about 90kms out of Melbourne. People were all abuzz about it the next few days, because we don't really get a lot of earthquakes in Melbourne. I seem to have missed it, because I was nursing my fourth cocktail in a bar in the city at the time.
A couple of days ago, we had another one, same epicentre, outside of Melbourne, it was a 4.6 this time, apparently. I was at work, and I felt it. It was like a big truck was driving past, only I was on the 5th floor, so I doubt I would feel a big truck driving past, I'd only hear it.
Anyway, having finally experienced an earthquake (and remembered), I was left a little unimpressed. Things didn't fall of the shelves. Windows didn't shatter. Plaster didn't start falling from the ceiling. Something in me was left feeling a little cheated. I did, however, have a vague feeling of nausea for about half an hour afterwards, so I guess that's something.
When I was in Tokyo, I was musing over why my sister was living there. She didn't appear to love her life over there, she wasn't tied into a contract, and her reason for moving there in the first place (to be with her boyfriend) had somewhat evaporated, as he was now back in Australia.
At the time, I had just re-read Idoru by William Gibson, in which he describes a (fictional?) fashion trend in Japan where people were dressing up in bandages etc., in some subconscious way to deal with the psychic trauma of having lived through a recent massive earthquake. The notion that phenomena like earthquakes and other natural disasters manifest themselves in the cultural consciousness is one that fascinates me. I mean there are the obvious responses in the community, like the Sound Relief concerts recently held, but in what way do these massive natural events actually affect us?
My theory at the time for my sister's choice to stay in Japan was a tenuous one, but it goes like this: earthquakes are exciting, interesting, and potentially massively destructive events. Events which simultaneously put the minutiae of everyday life into perspective, and remind us of the possibility of random, instantaneous death. Could this reminder be a stimulus? Something which makes life seem that little more vibrant, keeps our senses a little bit keener, triggering our animal impulses and keeping us in readiness to take decisive action. A thrill to some, and stressful to others.
Yet we find huge masses of people voluntarily living in these danger zones. Take the millions living on the San Andreas fault line in California, for example. Surely it's not some sort of twisted death wish? Yet there does seem to be something attractive about living 'on the edge'.
A couple of weeks ago, there was a 4.7 about 90kms out of Melbourne. People were all abuzz about it the next few days, because we don't really get a lot of earthquakes in Melbourne. I seem to have missed it, because I was nursing my fourth cocktail in a bar in the city at the time.
A couple of days ago, we had another one, same epicentre, outside of Melbourne, it was a 4.6 this time, apparently. I was at work, and I felt it. It was like a big truck was driving past, only I was on the 5th floor, so I doubt I would feel a big truck driving past, I'd only hear it.
Anyway, having finally experienced an earthquake (and remembered), I was left a little unimpressed. Things didn't fall of the shelves. Windows didn't shatter. Plaster didn't start falling from the ceiling. Something in me was left feeling a little cheated. I did, however, have a vague feeling of nausea for about half an hour afterwards, so I guess that's something.
When I was in Tokyo, I was musing over why my sister was living there. She didn't appear to love her life over there, she wasn't tied into a contract, and her reason for moving there in the first place (to be with her boyfriend) had somewhat evaporated, as he was now back in Australia.
At the time, I had just re-read Idoru by William Gibson, in which he describes a (fictional?) fashion trend in Japan where people were dressing up in bandages etc., in some subconscious way to deal with the psychic trauma of having lived through a recent massive earthquake. The notion that phenomena like earthquakes and other natural disasters manifest themselves in the cultural consciousness is one that fascinates me. I mean there are the obvious responses in the community, like the Sound Relief concerts recently held, but in what way do these massive natural events actually affect us?
My theory at the time for my sister's choice to stay in Japan was a tenuous one, but it goes like this: earthquakes are exciting, interesting, and potentially massively destructive events. Events which simultaneously put the minutiae of everyday life into perspective, and remind us of the possibility of random, instantaneous death. Could this reminder be a stimulus? Something which makes life seem that little more vibrant, keeps our senses a little bit keener, triggering our animal impulses and keeping us in readiness to take decisive action. A thrill to some, and stressful to others.
Yet we find huge masses of people voluntarily living in these danger zones. Take the millions living on the San Andreas fault line in California, for example. Surely it's not some sort of twisted death wish? Yet there does seem to be something attractive about living 'on the edge'.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Melancholalia
Years ago, when I was with some friends at the pier in Hobart, buying freshly shucked oysters straight off the boat from a fisherman, I came across a woman who was a little bizarre. She was on her own, and seemingly speaking to no-one in particular. Only she wasn't having a conversation in her head - or maybe she was - but instead she kept repeating the same phrase over and over again. "Wouldn't have a clue... wouldn't have a clue... wouldn't have a clue..."
It seemed she perhaps had some mental problem, but in any case, this was my first and only encounter with someone who appeared to suffer from echolalia, often associated with autism or Tourette syndrome. People with this condition involuntarily repeat snippets of something they've heard someone else say.
It's been about two and a half months since my relationship with D ended. While in many respects, I've come to peace with this, and for the most part I'm ready and eager to move on with my life, I often find my mind wandering back involuntarily to my relationship. I well up with regret, resentment, and melancholy, and what I know to be futile and irrational feelings of inadequacy. Then after a while, I brush them off, think of happier things, and surround myself with friends and find an equilibrium again.
Part of me wonders if this melancholalia might be a sign that I still haven't resolved my emotions, and dealt with the breakup properly; that in maintaining my composure and control, I've somehow emotionally wounded myself. Or perhaps not wounded, but rather poisoned. The poison seems to well up, and then when things might otherwise become toxic, the overflow valve is released...
melancholalia.
It seemed she perhaps had some mental problem, but in any case, this was my first and only encounter with someone who appeared to suffer from echolalia, often associated with autism or Tourette syndrome. People with this condition involuntarily repeat snippets of something they've heard someone else say.
It's been about two and a half months since my relationship with D ended. While in many respects, I've come to peace with this, and for the most part I'm ready and eager to move on with my life, I often find my mind wandering back involuntarily to my relationship. I well up with regret, resentment, and melancholy, and what I know to be futile and irrational feelings of inadequacy. Then after a while, I brush them off, think of happier things, and surround myself with friends and find an equilibrium again.
Part of me wonders if this melancholalia might be a sign that I still haven't resolved my emotions, and dealt with the breakup properly; that in maintaining my composure and control, I've somehow emotionally wounded myself. Or perhaps not wounded, but rather poisoned. The poison seems to well up, and then when things might otherwise become toxic, the overflow valve is released...
melancholalia.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Meme time
OK, I've had writer's block, so here goes (I borrowed this from a friend on facebook):
Rules: It's harder than it looks! Copy to your own note, erase my answers, enter yours, and tag some people. Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real . . . nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.
1. What is your name: Billy
2. A four Letter Word: Boat
3. A boy's Name: Bartholomew
4. A girl's Name: Belinda
5. An occupation: Baker
6. A color: Blue
7. Something you wear: Boots
9. A food: Broccoli
10. Something found in the bathroom: Bath
11. A place: Bangkok
12. A reason for being late: Bad public transport
13. Something you shout: Bitch!
14. A movie title: Brokeback Mountain
15. Something you drink: Beer
16. A musical group: Beatles, the
17. An animal: Baboon
18. A street name: ByrnesSt (the street I grew up in)
I tag: trackingbeam, peanutbutters, evolkween, and mspixieears
Rules: It's harder than it looks! Copy to your own note, erase my answers, enter yours, and tag some people. Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real . . . nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.
1. What is your name: Billy
2. A four Letter Word: Boat
3. A boy's Name: Bartholomew
4. A girl's Name: Belinda
5. An occupation: Baker
6. A color: Blue
7. Something you wear: Boots
9. A food: Broccoli
10. Something found in the bathroom: Bath
11. A place: Bangkok
12. A reason for being late: Bad public transport
13. Something you shout: Bitch!
14. A movie title: Brokeback Mountain
15. Something you drink: Beer
16. A musical group: Beatles, the
17. An animal: Baboon
18. A street name: ByrnesSt (the street I grew up in)
I tag: trackingbeam, peanutbutters, evolkween, and mspixieears
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Slumdog Millionaire
I don't think Danny Boyle's ever made a movie I didn't like. Yes, i did fall asleep while watching 'Millions', but that doesn't mean I didn't like it. I also fell asleep during 'A Mighty Heart', and I llike just about everything Fat-lips Jolie is in.
The first thing I thought when watching Slumdog Millionaire was 'oh, this is neat!'. The plot is driven by the sequence of questions asked of the 'slumdog chai wallah' Jamal on the Indian version of 'Who wants to be a millionaire'. The questions are used as a neat device to tell Jamal's life story. As each story unfolds, we learn how he knows the answer to the question - seemingly against all odds.
There's not really much to fault with this movie - and you can kind of understand the four golden globes it just won - everything is deftly handled, and it's hard not to be drawn in by the vibrant cityscapes in which the action takes place. The score (punctuated by M.I.A. tracks) does well to set the tone, too.
I give it a 4.5 out of 5.
The first thing I thought when watching Slumdog Millionaire was 'oh, this is neat!'. The plot is driven by the sequence of questions asked of the 'slumdog chai wallah' Jamal on the Indian version of 'Who wants to be a millionaire'. The questions are used as a neat device to tell Jamal's life story. As each story unfolds, we learn how he knows the answer to the question - seemingly against all odds.
There's not really much to fault with this movie - and you can kind of understand the four golden globes it just won - everything is deftly handled, and it's hard not to be drawn in by the vibrant cityscapes in which the action takes place. The score (punctuated by M.I.A. tracks) does well to set the tone, too.
I give it a 4.5 out of 5.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Playlisting as the dust settles
I'm a little at a loss when it comes to blogging at the moment, if you couldn't tell... so I thought I'd juat post a playlist of the music I've been listening to a lot lately. It's mostly to do with processing the end of my relationship with D (surprise surprise). I've always found music to be somewhat cathartic, even when it's in amplifying or resonating whatever pain you might be going through.
Mayonaise - Smashing Pumpkins
Breakeven - The Script
Last Goodbye - Jeff Buckley
How My Heart Behaves - Feist
Irreplaceable - Beyonce
How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead
I Forgive You - Darren Hayes
When You Were Young - The Killers
Free - Destiny's Child
Details in the Fabric - Jason Mraz
Mayonaise - Smashing Pumpkins
Breakeven - The Script
Last Goodbye - Jeff Buckley
How My Heart Behaves - Feist
Irreplaceable - Beyonce
How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead
I Forgive You - Darren Hayes
When You Were Young - The Killers
Free - Destiny's Child
Details in the Fabric - Jason Mraz
Friday, December 26, 2008
Duck FTW
@jessikatze Reason #37 why Ho Chi Minh City beats Hanoi:
For those of you who prefer a youtube version.
For those of you who prefer a youtube version.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Gridlock
So I stupidly got talked into having dinner with a friend in District 1 tonight. I knew traffic would probably be a bit crazy, as it's been for the past two weeks, with crowds of Vietnamese families taking their kids to see the astoundingly abundant Christmas decorations and light shows.
What I didn't count on was the fat that tonight was ALSO the first leg of the Suzuki Cup final. Which Viet Nam won, beating Thailand 2-1 (thanks, in part, to some dubious refereeing).
For those of you from/in Melbourne, picture Lygon St after Italy won the World Cup in 2006. Put every second person on a motorbike. Multiply the four blocks of one street to a space about the size of the CBD. Absolutely. Packed. With massive Viet Nam flags, and red headbands galore.
The mood is decidedly festive though, despite the inability to move. People seem ready to shout and cheer for just about anything. Person A makes a fuss about Person B else getting in the way of their motorbike. Person C else points out that Person A has only moved abot a meter in the past five minutes anyway. Person B laughs, cheers, and the crowd cheers with him. And then the drumming starts. Banging on anything as a drum - street signs, car bonnets (they weren't moving anywhere fast), motorbike seats. Now THIS is a street party.
I really must learn to bring my camera with me everywhere in this country.
What I didn't count on was the fat that tonight was ALSO the first leg of the Suzuki Cup final. Which Viet Nam won, beating Thailand 2-1 (thanks, in part, to some dubious refereeing).
For those of you from/in Melbourne, picture Lygon St after Italy won the World Cup in 2006. Put every second person on a motorbike. Multiply the four blocks of one street to a space about the size of the CBD. Absolutely. Packed. With massive Viet Nam flags, and red headbands galore.
The mood is decidedly festive though, despite the inability to move. People seem ready to shout and cheer for just about anything. Person A makes a fuss about Person B else getting in the way of their motorbike. Person C else points out that Person A has only moved abot a meter in the past five minutes anyway. Person B laughs, cheers, and the crowd cheers with him. And then the drumming starts. Banging on anything as a drum - street signs, car bonnets (they weren't moving anywhere fast), motorbike seats. Now THIS is a street party.
I really must learn to bring my camera with me everywhere in this country.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Cross-posting
So I'm testing out the instructions I found at Lexi's Lounge to cross-post simultaneously to Blogger and Livejournal.
Here goes nothing...
EDIT: Success!
Here goes nothing...
EDIT: Success!
Friday, December 19, 2008
... and we're back.
So after a long hiatus, well spent in the lands of LiveJournal, I'm finally coming back to the milky bosom of Blogger.
Anyway, just had to make it official.
Must work now - rant later.
Anyway, just had to make it official.
Must work now - rant later.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Lady Punch
| This lady takes one on the kisser. I love the noise. Sometimes I feel like doing this to people on public transport. Or in the supermarket checkout line. Or at the post office. Or the bank. Or when people can't shut their screaming children up. | |
Friday, December 01, 2006
The other blog
So it seems that I'm not really that up to posting on two blogs after all... for those of you who are interested, here's the blog that I DO maintain..
http://cloudcontrol.livejournal.com
http://cloudcontrol.livejournal.com
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
New Photos
I've just updated my flickr, the photos are totally random, but someone might find them interesting.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
The Other Blog
So I just rediscovered this blog account, which I started in 2003, apparently. I'm so cutting edge. Anyway, I've since been maintaining a blog on livejournal, and I have a bit of a social community there, so I don't think I can leave that just yet. However, I also have a few friends who blog on blogger, so I thought I might re-open this portion of my online footprint.
The tricky thing will be to decide which blog is for what posting - I don't think I'm going to be patient enough to post the same thing twice very often. I guess it's just going to be whimsy (on a whim) which blog I post to.
In any case, look out blogspotters, I'm back (with a photo)!
The tricky thing will be to decide which blog is for what posting - I don't think I'm going to be patient enough to post the same thing twice very often. I guess it's just going to be whimsy (on a whim) which blog I post to.
In any case, look out blogspotters, I'm back (with a photo)!
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