WANTED: one proofreader. Now. As given a recent reminder that I suck at proofreading, I do not trust myself. Story at 3,500 words, and involves privateers.

Fourteen Years Ago I Thought-



The year before I finished grade 6, my primary school started a tradition of giving the graduating grade 6 students a wall, and letting them paint something of themselves on it. For my year, they gave us the theme of what we wanted to be when we grew up.

For the state election last weekend, my area's voting centre was at my primary school. I brought a camera along, just in case my painting was still there, and it is.



Yeah. All girls want a pony.

Subterranean Gold Pirates!

(When I'm at work, I'm usually doing my best not to work.)

I for one am not sure they warrant the application of the word 'pirate'. They're thieves and trespasses, but I don't sense pirate vibes from their activities.

I am also not sure how they do it. Underground for that long? My skin crawls at the thought. How do they not die of rickets? How do they not utterly destroy their eyes?

THE PRESTIGE

That is a film well worth seeing. I won't write any sort of review, as I know the blogsphere has already munched it through, and better munching than I could provided. I do like that neither of the central characters are particularly likeable people, yet this is made irrelevant by the fact that they are fascinating.

Here I dreamt I was an eagle,
and could fly where I would,
but some evil bad guys had all my friends hostage at the top of a building in a very Bladerunner-like city,
and I rescued them instead,
and the eagle went away.


Here I dreamt there were bears trying to get into the house,
that no one else could see,
and they kept opening the doors,
and I am not quite so strong as bears
who force open doors,
and I didn't want to be eaten.

And the world sings

Yesterday, while bored out of my mind at work, I stumbled across this article on the age website: Mystery humming sound captured. Apparently, Auckland hums. For no easily discernable reason, and at a low frequency, so not every one can hear it. There's a sample at the end of the article. It's rather ominous, and I imagine for those who can hear it and live in Auckland, really bloody annoying.

The article also linked to another about singing dunes, on a physics site. Me and physics, we're not friends, and I don't care. How utterly fascinating! I don't want there to be a scientific explanation, I just love the fact that the sand sings! (So of course now I want to go to somewhere in the world that has such dunes and play with them.)

I like it when the natural world gobsmacks me. *petpetpet*

DTE? GSOH? WTF?

This morning's copy of The Age came with a supplementary magazine that was nothing but introduction ads, and because I find these creatures fascinating reads, it consumed my morning. After such a concentrated exposure, I couldn't help but start composing my own ad in my head.

I: moody, anti-social, difficult, overly-imaginative, contrary, silly, two-faced, contradictory, too-sensitive and will not return your calls. You: either really like a challenge or have murky motives. Give up now.

Hmmmmm. Maybe not.