Then I’ll wank on about aliens for a bit.

Hi!

It’s a hot evening, approximately the 23rd of February, and I am coming down with flu-like symptoms. I have been annoying myself by not writing anything like I said I would, so I decided that I would jot down some stuff in the order that it came to my flu-riddled skull.

Skull is a great word. It has a ‘k’ in it where you would suppose there should be a ‘c’. I should look up the origins of that word. The etymology? I can’t remember, I always get that word wrong, and bug- and word-nerds are just such different crowds that I always come off looking like an idiot. Then I get nervous about the whole situation and over-think it, then avoid the word entirely.

See, anyone I’ve ever given shit about getting a word wrong, know that I give myself exactly as much shit internally, and possibly even more.

So I’m sick. I know exactly where it came from. Sarah and Liz were here over the weekend, you see, and they came off the plane coughing and spluttering. Just another thing I hate about flying, the air gets all recycled and then it’s everybody’s cold. So Sarah and Liz were getting pretty sick by the time they left, just in time to give it to me. I think, though, that I have it worse, which is pretty usual for my immune system, or they are much better at putting up with these things than I am (also true) because I feel like DEATH. It’s a full on flu too, none of this cold bullshit. I got the aching muscles and fevers and all that jazz. I even have this cool nausea which doesn’t seem to be interested in leaving, but that’s okay, ’cause I’m dieting anyway.

I think my stomach has caught up with the fact that I was to lose weight and has been reading too many teen magazines. Bullemia is not healthy, guys.

So Sarah and Liz were here, and that’s how I got sick. But I wouldn’t change it for the world, I love those girls. They could give me leprosy and I’d still have ’em around. ‘Specially ’cause there’s a cure for that now.

We had an exciting mix of work and play and work that was fun. They helped us so much in the construction of the wedding invitations you’ll all be getting soon, and we got so much wedding shite done, it was amazing. I need those two around all the time, to make me laugh, to understand me, and to push me (down stairs) when I need it. They rule, and I can’t wait to be back with them all the time.

We had a great night of drunken fun too, which I haven’t really had the guts or the opportunity to do since… uh… New Years 2009/10? So more than a year. It felt so good too, I felt like I really didn’t need to worry about being judged or misinterpreted, I could just relax and have fun with my sisters. And my bros, but they weren’t drinking. Boring!

And you know what they say. Hoes before bros.

Oh man, speaking of bridesmaids, Simon and Jane are in New Zealand at the moment. Yes, the same New Zealand that just had that horrible quake. Apparently they are unharmed, though, which is super good to hear.

I’ve been reading about UFOs lately. No, no, hear me out. I’ve been reading this list of a bunch of 12 government documents that take UFOs seriously. They’re quite interesting. And sort of damning. There are just so many records of seriously high up people discussing this shit for reals. Now I don’t get that, see. ‘Cause like, if there are aliens, right, following me, if there are aliens, and they have successfully made contact, why is it almost entirely with Americans? They sure didn’t scan the planet for highest average IQ. (Ooooooh, burrrrn.) And if it’s NOT only with Americans, why is it that all the government bodies of the world have sworn this, like, oath, to not talk about it. You’d think if someone in say, the Middle East, someone not so friendly with the US, had made contact with aliens, they’d be all “Check this shit out, world, America’s been hiding this from you since the 50s! LOL :)” That would sure fuck a lotta people up, that I’m sure other countries could take advantage of.

Also, if contact has been made with aliens, why is it being kept a secret at all? UFO culture obviously has a bit of a stigma attached, but that’s mostly from 60 years of people not taking it seriously. If it was talked about upfront from the beginning, or even like 10 years later once we’d had a little more time to think about it, it could’ve been taken much more seriously. Of course, this is all hypothetical. I don’t realy believe in aliens. Or rather, I do, but am of the school of thought that we will miss them by billions of years and space-kilometres, so it doesn’t really matter.

But still. Aliens, huh! They’re an interesting thought exercise.

I hate the term thought exercise. Tim fucking loves it, but I just think it sounds so wanky. Wanky to the point of preposterity. But it’s still a valid concept, so I have to live with it.

I’m pretty much made of inconsistency. On one hand I’ll write about the virtues of words and the correct spelling thereof. Then I’ll wank on about aliens for a bit. Later on I might have a bit of an existential crisis, before hitting up some of my favourite baby animal websites and shrieking for a bit.

I was struck again today about the ridiculousness of TV. I was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at this enormous wall of light and sound, and like, some channels are playing M*A*S*H and Happy Days and some are just 24 hour reruns of the same 5 images from New Zealand, cut between ads for Red Rooster and life insurance.

Don’t get me wrong, what has happened in New Zealand is a tragedy, and the more people that can help, the better, and many lives will be affected by this for years to come. But seriously, I don’t think anyone is being helped by being shown the same images of seriously injured people and people running to the rescue of those unfortunates still trapped. I don’t think there’s anyone, at least no-one who watches daytime TV, that hasn’t heard about it. I’m just saying, stop putting these poor people’s misery on display, go pick up a shovel or something and help out. It doesn’t need to be on multiple channels for hours on end, no new information is forthcoming, just give people a minutes privacy to try and pick up the pieces.

Then I flip to the Fonz giving advice on the ladies, and I just rage quit from the ridiculousness.

Ecccchhh, I feel siiiick. I’m going to beeeeeedddd.