Panopticon chic
I’m not generating a lot of words on this site lately, I know. Busy with work, not much to report. Meantime, here’s a photo:
“You are on a video camera an average of ten times a day,” Mr Kenneth Cole thoughtfully informs us. One might wonder whether there’s a political point to be made about this level of universal surveillance, but no. If you’re going to live in George Orwell’s nightmare, you might as well have some nice clothes.
War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.
(Photo from Myer store window, Melbourne.)
A boy’s best friend is his mother
She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven’t you?
Photos from Bangkok
There wasn’t a lot of time for sightseeing in Bangkok, and for a substantial part of what time there was, my camera was on the blink. But I did manage to squeeze in a few hours, accompanied by my delightful temporary replacement boyfriend, the formidable Tom Lawson.
Eleven more photos in the gallery.
Impossible is nothing
(Graffito seen on Adidas poster in Fitzroy. Of course, there’s no anti-doping law against Zoloft…)
It’s official
Someone got his permanent residency today. Signed, sealed and delivered, permanently affixed inside his passport. We are very happy.
In the end, like so many things, the finalé was somewhat anti-climactic. It began with thirty or forty minutes cooling our heels in the Immigration Department waiting room, a.k.a. the third circle of Purgatory, listening to the soothing computer-generated voice calling the penitent to prayer.
Ticket number. B. One hundred and. Sixty. One. Please proceed to counter. Four. Ticket number. A. Two hundred and. Twenty. Seven. Please proceed to counter. One.
Our number was called, we dutifully attended counter two, where we were issued with another ticket and returned to the Ocean of Despair to wait again.
Ticket number. K. Nine million, twelve hundred and. Eleventy. Nine. Please proceed to counter. Four. Where your hopes and dreams will be crushed. Before your eyes.
Then, at the end, immigration dude goes tap-tap-tap on his computer keyboard, the printer spits out — bzzzt, bzzzzzzt — a sticky label for Brent’s passport, and he hands it back.
The future began today.
L’Aeroport
I’m sitting in the departure lounge at Melbourne Airport, waiting for my flight to Sydney and Bangkok. I’ve got an hour and a half to kill before the plane is due to depart.
Airports are odd places. Everyone is going somewhere but most people are going nowhere anytime soon. Naturally, this presents an irresistible opportunity to prey on that most basic of human urges: shopping. I confess, I have browsed the fine boutiques here but have purchased nothing more than a newspaper and a surprisingly good caffe latté. Best I steer clear of the shops as my luggage already exceeds my 20kg allowance, and I’m sure Bangkok’s markets will tempt me more than Tullamarine’s overpriced chain stores.
It feels rather strange to be travelling alone, although that is what used to be normal for me. For five years, every significant trip I’ve made was with Brent at my side; and he’s staying behind this time. I’ll confess to a twinge of disquiet at being all alone in the big world for the next ten days, but of course I know I’ll be alright and, of course, rarely alone.
My taxi driver was keen to make conversation and had lots of questions about AIDS when I told him where I was going. I was steeling myself for the kind of reactionary discussion I usually get from taxi drivers, but he was OK and seemed genuinely interested in the issue, although he did wonder why it was that all those Africans didn’t know how to protect themselves from infection. If only life were so simple.
War on War
Bored with the War on Terrorism? Barely able to remember the War on Drugs*? Well, fear not: here comes the War on Pornography.
* They say if you can remember the War on Drugs, you weren’t really there…
Lookin’ good
Some random jots:
Phone message from my doctor in Sydney (technically, my ex-doctor): “Got your test results. All looks good. Call me if you want details.” Luvly.
In other shiny happy news, my plane ticket for Bangkok finally turned up today, just shy of a week after being mailed from Sydney. So I’m breathing a deep sigh of relief and finally packing my bags. I’ll avoid saying anything nasty about Australia Post’s service levels…
Brent’s first day at his new job today. He came home tired (after a 12-hour day) but happy and enthusiastic. But I’ve grown a wee bit accustomed to having him at home for the last couple of weeks so I kinda missed him today.
We’re getting settled into our new home, gradually. Still lots of half-unpacked boxes around the place, and probably will be for a while yet. No DSL line yet — that can’t come fast enough. I’m jotting down this post while waiting for a 5.1MB email message to download. Dialup sucks; I wonder how we ever managed in the bad old days.
Yesterday we wandered down the road to the Merri Creek Reserve for the first time … we’re amazed to have such a stunning slice of (sort of) natural bushland (sort of) on our doorstep. The dogs — after days and days being cooped up in car and house — were going off. The smells, the long grass, the other dogs’ butts, the water.
Will try to write a more coherent entry tomorrow…