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The White Album
January 04, 2004, 9:49 p.m. Recently, as evidenced by the lack of the updates, I’ve been feeling particularly lethargic. The humidity, perhaps, has been getting to me and slowing my blood like . . . well, I actually can’t think of anything that flows slower when it’s heated . . . so anyway. I’d call it ennui but I’ve been on holidays from uni for too long to indulge flights of intellectualism. But today I feel much better. I got up and I did something. Granted, I got up at 12pm and the something involved making a journal for my mother and buying About a Boy and The Cat Empire by the Cat Empire (God I hate self-titled albums), but it was something. And I have plans for the rest of the week. Joy! Last night I went to a friend’s twenty-first. It was a bit disappointing. Ellie, another friend and I were the only people there who knew the birthday girl from uni, and so we were kind of alone. I wanted to talk to more people, but I’m just so annoying shy. There’s no real reason why I shouldn’t go up and talk to people, I’m intelligent and funny in a sort of self-depreciating way. I’m not totally lacking in tact and social graces. I’m not insufferably rude, I don’t (generally) spit when I talk and I’m not known for my haughtiness or habit of insulting people. But for some reason, I’m unable to walk up to someone and say, “Hi, my name’s Lia. How do you know Squidgey?” Oh well. Guess I’ll just have to bite the bullet at some point. I’ll screw myself up to it at some point : ) I’ve started loathing the Sydney “in” scene recently. Not that I spend any time in it, but it’s easy to loathe something from the social pages. I just hate all the North Shore brats who stare at me haughtily from behind their aviator sunnies, in their faux-eighties designer singlets. My thoughts are, precisely, “you shallow, shallow people.” But then they’re always my thoughts about people I feel infinitely physically inferior too. I know they’d reject me straight away, because we would have nothing in common, so I get in first and reject them. But that doesn’t really work because I still feel inferior to them, and I want to feel superior. Probably something to do with always being an outsider when I was growing up. Oh, I’m a deeply emotionally scarred person.
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