Who's birthday is it?

My housemate Emily had her birthday party last night, and things got a little out of control.  A picture says a thousand words right? Let's revisit the night through some photos.

Before the guests arrived we decorated the room with streamers, and prepared some snacks...

After midnight things kicked up a notch, Emily and I found ourselves in the kitchen unsure of who anyone in the room was, and whether or not they knew who's party it was, or even who's house it was. They seemed harmless enough!

I thought I'd record some of the damage, at 3am...

The birthday girl danced her little heart out until 6am (Emily's the brunette). 

We found this note on the wall this morning.  That was pretty much the night.

It took us 3 hours to clean the house and fill the recycling bin to overflowing (it was empty). I'd say it was well worth it, and I have to admit there's something almost enjoyable about putting on a good record, making a cup of tea, and cleaning the house with a couple of friends after a great night (so long as you're not hung over that is). 

Oh and at 2pm our other housemate appeared from his room, after the cleaning was done, still drunk.

Party Rating: 8/10.

snack time!

On Wednesday I baked raspberry and white chocolate cupcakes, and since I spent hours teaching myself how to ice flowers on top, I thought I'd post some pictures of the results.

On the note of hypertext, This was fun.

A Gig Review of Sorts

Death Cab For Cutie @ Metropolis Fremantle 20/8/08

Bixby Canyon Bridge

The New Year

Why You'd Want To Live Here

Crooked Teeth

Long Division

Grape Vine Fires

Movie Script Ending

Company Calls

Title Track

Soul Meets Body

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

I Will Possess Your Heart

Cath...

Styrofoam Plates

Expo '86

Sound of Settling

encore

Title & Registration

Your New Twin Sized Bed

Marching Bands of Manhattan

Transatlanticism

Who Am I?

A few years ago a guy I'd met SMS-ed me asking if I used MSN Messenger. At that point in time my computer and MSN Messenger were not on the best terms, so instead I replied that I had other online haunts.  I sent him the address of my myspace page, which had links to my livejournal and last fm page (this was even before I had facebook!).  

My online identity has always been a matter of linked profiles, cataloging different aspects of my life.

Is this a fixed identity?  To a degree it is, but what I love about my online identity is how fluid it is.  It grows and changes just as I grow and change.  Is my Livejournal profile the same as it was when I first signed up in high school? Certainly not! My Myspace profile has changed many times, as I like new bands, read new books, and as my interests and priorities develop or disappear.  Last FM gives you an up-to-the-minute profile of what I am listening to, which bands I've listened to the most over a period time (this week, this month, the last 6 months), and my favourite tracks.  My current charts include bands such as Los Campesinos, Cloudcult, Beulah, Okkervil River and The Hold Steady, most of these bands (many of my favourite bands) I've only discovered over the past few years.

Of course each of these online identities are constructed to a degree.  I choose each time I update my profile which bands, books or films I want people to associate me with, they are never an exhaustive list of what I listen to and read.  I list interests such as baking and summer dresses to create a romantic image of myself (although actually these two things a significant parts of my life!).  I don't mention that I actually enjoy going running for exercise, or that I sometimes read cosmo, secretly love Hilary Duff or that I spend way too long doing my hair.  These things don't fit with the identity I've created, so they get edited out.

So, who am I? See for yourself...

Livejournal userinfo

Myspace profile

Last FM

Facebook Profile

Writing exercise #1

It was strange coming back here at first, a little nostalgic. I went to high school just down the road, these are the streets we used to wander when there was no where to go.  Too young to go out, to old to stay in. 

I always imagined that when I moved out of home it would be somewhere a bit more glamorous.  Near the city, north of the river, somewhere where a cab home would cost $10 instead of $25.  When it came to it though, I need a place to live and a friend of a friend had a spare room two suburbs away.  

The first few days walking these streets didn't feel like growing up, it felt like I was in high school again. The shops we'd visit for chocolate and orange juice, the parks where we'd sit for hours, passing the time between school and dinner.

Soon enough the nostalgia faded as the streets gained new familiarity.  Now those shops are where I buy milk on a Sunday morning, those parks are where I go for a run in the late afternoon.  Each spot is renewed.  I'm not the same person I was then, and the streets have changed too.