windy nights

and then there are nights like these where you feel that the world will not be at rights again until you are taken into someone’s arms and held close for a long, long time.

this is the weekly report

i work. i party. i don’t sleep.

this has been my last week.

not much to report on the outside. plenty going on inside my head, as per usual. though i’m not entirely sure that i want to delve into this on cyberspace where particular individuals are likely to stumble across it.

for those who aren’t aware, i started freestyle fight training a bit over a month ago with Gav and the crew. a mixture of kickboxing, jujitsu, cage wrestling, UFC style fighting etc. it’s rough and tough and fun as. i haven’t done it for over a week now though (though i’ve still been at the training sessions just watching) cos i either have been too exhausted, or didn’t have my trackies. but back into it tomorrow night for sure. as long as i get an early night tonight.

friday night i went to a freshie gig (read: western sydney speak for FOB or fresh off the boat = islanders) with Cat from work. it was great for the first half of the night, discovering a wicked NZ based band (mostly made up of Tongans) called Spacifix. incredibly talented live, such a polished performance. i’ve never seen a band able to switch from reggae to r’n'b to hip hop to funk/soul to jazz to four-part accapella harmony, throw in a beyonce chorus, go into punk rock and back to soul within one song, let alone have it sound amazing AND throw in some awesomely choreographed dance moves from the three lead singers. as well as the lead singers they had a keyboardist (who also played trumpet), a percussionist, an electric guitarist, a bass guitarist and a drummer. Cat is going to track me down their album (only available in NZ).

last night was another party, a friend’s birthday. a big bonfire and homemade sangria. it was good. i was exhausted though, having not gotten back to Cat’s place on friday night until 6am.

this week i had to buy two new tyres (@ $119 each) and a big bottle of oil. i’m hoping this week is slightly less costly, although i really need to replace my other two tyres plus my spare, and my car is almost 20,000k over a service. it is running though, which is a nice change from the last week, and so i will pay a couple of bills before i go to the next step in car maintenance. i just realised then that tax time is upon us, so that should be good for getting my car done.

this is all sounding rather boring to me (i daresay because i’m not having my usual emo whinge).

i’d like to spill a few more things but i’m not exactly in the mood for getting it out there right now.

if anybody knows of a blogsite that i can update from my phone (i have a blackberry at the moment), please let me know, i’m quite keen to get mobile on this thing.

and stacey, it’s your turn dearie.

squished inside a uniform and bad feelings

I’m having a conversation with my friend Gavin, about how I can see a girl, out of the corner of my eye. She is the me I would like to be. She is not Mandy, or Amanda. Or Ava, Willow, Susannah, Sam or Riley.

She is a girl. But more confident. Not a woman. But almost? She seems assured, daring, content. I guess she is a woman.

I would love to know her name. I admire her. She wears a hippie head-scarf, and peeks out at me from behind shady trees. She tells the world what she knows, and isn’t afraid to do so. The world listens. And they like her. At least most of them do. She isn’t concerned about the ones who don’t though. That is not her problem, not her fault. She accepts herself.

She sleeps when she is weary and awakes full of vigour. Songs pour out of her spirit, and she dances the opposite way, still as graceful as the God she talks to. She is as comfortable in her own company as of that of a hundred others. She feels no guilt, only sensibility talking in her left ear, and she amends her path accordingly. She smiles. She doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. She is beautiful either way. Her light attracts other lights, and the light of one she desires loves.

I feel like this woman I want to get to is squished inside a work uniform, and under bad feelings. Supressed. She sits patiently, waiting to be freed. But I’m not sure what the correct combination is to let her out. Who is she? Does she really exist under the chasms of the heart, or is she merely a passing fancy of the mind?

And for those who don’t know, I am now Amanda.