~~~The Realm of the Palace Princess~~~

About Me

Read about me ... for those of you who don't already know me!

Links

Crikey
Fisk
The Bladder
Dark Horizons
Oz Pagan
Clitical
So Shoot Me!

Blogs I Read

War Info Links
The PM's Blog
Iron Monkey
AFL Blog
*B.Weaver
Cry Like A Girl
Gawker
Home Blown
Cynical Optimist

What I'm Reading

Life On Air-David Attenborough
A Dagg At My Table-John Clarke

What I'm Listening To

John Mayer-Heavier Things
The Waifs-Up All Night
Dido-Life For Rent

Words of Wisdom

"The spirit is most often free when the body is satiated with pleasure, indeed, sometimes the stars shine more brightly seen from the gutter than from the hilltop"-
W. Somerset Maugham

Classic Songs

Split Screen Sadness...And I don't know where you went when you left me but Says here in the water you must be gone by now I can tell somehow One hand on the trigger of a telephone Wondering when the call comes Where you say it's alright You got your heart right Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and Wait on the porch 'til you come back home Oh, right I can't find a flight We share the sadness Split screen sadness Two wrongs make it all alright tonight All you need is love is a lie cause We had love but we still said goodbye Now we're tired, battered fighters And it stings when it's nobody's fault Cause there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name It's only the air you took and the breath you left Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and Wait on the porch 'til you come back home Oh, right I can't find a flight So I'll check the weather wherever you are Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight It might be my only right We share the sadness Split screen sadness I called Because I just Need to feel you on the line Don't hang up this time And I know it was me who called it over but I still wish you'd fought me 'til your dying day Don't let me get away Cause I can't wait to figure out what's wrong with me So I can say this is the way that I used to be There's no substitute for time Or for the sadness Split screen sadness We share the sadness-John Mayer

------------------ First Cut Is The Deepest...I would have given you all of my heart But there's someone who's torn it apart And he's taken just all that I had But if you want I'll try to love again Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know the first cut is the deepest But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst I still want you by my side Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried And I'm sure going to give you a try And if you want I'll try to love again (tryyy) Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know the first cut is the deepest But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst I still want you by my side Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried But I'm sure gonna give you a try 'Cause if you want I'll try to love again (try to love again) Baby, I'll try to love again but I know The first cut is the deepest Baby I know, the first cut is the deepest When it come to being lucky he's cursed When it come to loving me he's worst The first cut is the deepest baby i know The first cut is the deepest try to love again...-Sheryl Crow

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Sunday, February 09, 2003
[POSTHUMAN]
Why does everything seem to have 'post' as a prefix these days? Postmodern, poststructuralist, postpatriarchal – the list goes on.

Then of course there's 'postdefinition', which pretty well sums up any approximation of any quasi-relationship that I may or may not have experienced over the last 6 years. Am I predestined to a life of postdefinition relationships in which a hell of a lot of time is spent in the company of another person, but ultimately it remains a 'thing' which essentially amounts to nothing? Possibly, but I can live with that.

This introspection was spawned by a spontaneous conversation I had over a delicious lunch today, in which my companion and I reflected on the likelihood, or unlikelihood, of various aspects of the future, especially with regard to things that are commonly thought to be desirable.

OK, so at this point I don't want children, I don't want a life of sacrifices, I don't want my future mapped out for security purposes, I don't want stability or an 'ordinary' life and I can't imagine myself being overtly patriotic with regard to citizenship in any particular nation-state. As for relationships, as my dining companion so poignantly put it, how am I going to find someone who wants to come home and listen to Nick Drake or Diana Krall before upping the tempo and chucking on some Groove Armada or Foo Fighters? Is that eclecticism overkill?

Hmm, this is potentially one of the more personal blog-posts I've written in quite sometime, and it's starting to sound a bit self-obsessive and lame. I seem to have drifted back to the Carrie Bradshaw-like posts of old (and yes, I'm still minus my Mr Big!) ... don't be surprised if you find that I've deleted this one in a day or two...
xxx
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And who said u can't make fun of your own ..... I got told this joke today, kinda thought it was amusing.

Wayne Carey and Mark Bickley are enjoying a lunch at a fancy West Lakes restaurant.

The waitress approaches their table to take their order. She is young and very attractive. She asks Mark what he wants, and he replies, "I'll have the heart-healthy salad."

"Very good, sir " she replies. Turning to Carey she asks, "And what do you want, Wayne?"

Carey answers, "How about a quickie?"

Taken aback, the waitress slaps him and says, "I'm shocked and disappointed in you. I thought you were on the straight and narrow and committed to high principles and morality, not like last year. I'm sorry you have joined the Crows." With that, the waitress departed in a huff.

Bickley leans over to Carey, and says, "Wayne, I believe that's pronounced 'quiche' ".

posted by The Princess 4:43 PM



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Devoted to Viggo
Second Opinion.. The glow inside another red-crossed pelvis will drain when they crush that little bulb. Menstrual minstrels drift in from the weedless garden. The immaculate blue flame from the fake fireplace burns in the corner of my eye. Can't stop staring at nothing. A gloved hand opens the door, and the man enters soothingly, with an air of respect for the dead. Encourages us to look on the bright side. Black pants hide your pain afterwards, and there's a cookie on a napkin and a paper cup of red juice to replace your strength. We drive home without blinking because the sun isn't real .. . -Viggo Mortensen

Song
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