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I Have Bouncity-Bounce
March 14, 2004, 1:06 a.m. I have heard a rumour that some of you think I am ‘a bit goth’. Really! Who else out there thinks I’m a goth? Honestly, I’m practically the dictionary definition of ‘perky’ – I have no idea how you people get these ideas : ) The closest I have come to being a goth is when I acted as one in a friend’s ‘gothumentary’ for her year 12 art major work. I got the part because of my long dark hair, and my audition was me keeping a smile off my face for a couple of minutes. It was bloody hard work, but I did it. Everyone was astounded, especially when I went on to demonstrate a baleful glare (I got another part in a video that year, because of my hair, for Sixten’s year 12 English major work). When I was in year ten – or eleven, don’t quite remember – I knew a boy who was convinced I was a goth, because he met me in the middle of winter, when I had taken to wearing dark clothes (among them, the odd black item). I don’t think that qualifies me as a goth, as they tend to have better taste in clothes than I had at that stage. Though I do confess to owning a corset (a lovely eight-panel Victorian dealie in pastoral brocade [that laces up the front – I’m a whore!]), it is a light-blue, not black. Once, I was a Wiccan. I held a ‘witch’ party for my fifteenth birthday, and my nana made me a black satin cloak, with red lining. I wanted it to be velvet, with a black lining, but you don’t always get what you want. Anyway, I had a lot of candles and incense, and book on the basics of paganism, but then I realised I felt no Earth Mother, and was really just an atheist feminist. I have sat on tombstone discussing the existence of God with a man in black, but he wasn’t a goth. I have been asked out on a date which would have been a picnic in a cemetery, but the guy stood me up so my cousin took me out to see Three Kings. I think I enjoyed that more than I would have the date. I have also written poetry that included a reference to slashing my wrists. Really, it’s a terrible poem, and the anger expressed in isn’t something I’ve ever really felt. I think I was channelling Catherine Earnshaw at the time. The slitting-wrists thing was an image that came to me while waiting for a train one winter morning. So really, I have CityRail to thank for that. These are all the things I have done that could be construed as goth-like, but it’s really not the case. Fuchsia is my favourite colour. I am an optimist. I listen to Guy Sebastian. I don’t wear PVC and the only piercings I have are my ears, and they’re practically healed over anyway. So, in summary, Lia = not a goth. Thank you for your time.
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