How appropriate it rains today!

I finally did scuba diving during our long weekend trip to Cairns, and it was every bit as thrilling as I'd imagined it to be. I was pretty petrified going underwater the first time, with nothing but a thin tube of air protecting me from the suffocating sea, and the eerie metallic sound of my breath in the regulator. But soon I forgot it all - forgot the discomfort of the mask, the cold, the tiredness in my legs. Beneath me, around me, was a world completely alien to me. So beautiful and full of life, like a silent movie.

A lot of my childhood afternoons were spent poring over my dad's fish books, vivid page upon vivid page of fish and coral leaving me amazed and captivated. I would read stories about gropers remembering the faces of divers, and giant clams big enough to swallow a man. To be able to see it all for myself; well, it's been a dream of mine for the longest time, and I'm so happy that I've been able to fulfil it.

The winter is
So cold.

I often like to think of myself as bold and enterprising. I'm willing to take risks, explore new horizons, challenge myself. I'll be the one leaping over chasms or cycling down steep inclines. Liberal, adventurous, open-minded - you'd think I would like things to be ever-changing. But no - change scares me. Being in a different environment, being with strangers, being outside my (surprisingly small, I've realised) comfort zone. These things are to be avoided. Change must be gradual, easily handled.
You see, we all seek constants in our lives. We need that reassurance, something to cling to in the confusion and debris of a turning world. It's what we strive for, and, at the end of the day, it's the constant things in our lives that make us happy.

I remember a movie I watched as a kid. One of the characters was an unemployed, low-life kind of guy who would entertain his friends with cheap magic tricks. There's one scene where he's drunk in the courtyard of the apartment block, holding his magician's wand. Tears are streaming down his face and he's waving the wand around maniacally, shouting 'Change! Change!' over and over.

I almost changed jobs last week. I'd had enough, and started looking for a fresh start. I went in for an interview, and then another, and soon afterwards received a job offer. At the last minute my manager persuaded me to stay. Among other things, he was able to convince me that out there it was a cut-throat industry and I was less than suited to it. It made me think of who I am, and who I want to become. Seeds of doubt began taking hold, feeding on my anxiety and sprouting through my ears. I turned down the lucrative offer and opted for the easier option. No, I don't regret it - but sometimes, sometimes I too will wave a wand drunkenly and yell.

'It was only when I heard clapping, that I realised it was all over.' - JoH.

It's been a busy week. I've had a lot of drama at work - it must be the first time I've really fought with a colleague (a manager, no less) and been visibly angry. To me it reinforces how terribly meaningless it all is - as if being forced to toil for a living isn't bad enough, we must do so at the bequest and whims of others.

Crowded House played at the Enmore earlier in the week. ('Crowded House? You like Crowded House?' Ah Mother, how little you know about me). The small theatre gave the concert an intimate air, and despite the hundreds of people present it felt like the band was playing for each and every individual. The concert was at it's best when the old familiar songs were played, and the crowd erupted into song.

Friday was good for killing zombies.

Last night was clubbing with two disparate group of friends. The night almost didn't happen, with all the rain and long queues and creeping sense of listlessness. I realised, while watching the girls get approached by random generic-looking strangers, that guys can sense vulnerability in a girl, and love it. That's how my friends seemed to me - delicate and fragile and tragic, like origami princesses. Though we spoke in hushed tones and giggled when we had finally dissuaded the persistent intruders, was I really right to judge and blame them? I know I am very much the same. And when she held me tightly and sighed, I knew she was thinking of someone else.

Oh I remember a dream I had the other night. I was with a group of friends at a house party, and was lying innocently and slightly drunk on a couch for some unknown reason with a friend whom I have no romantic inclinations whatsoever. As the lights dimmed her face moved towards mine, and we kissed. Her tongue was in my mouth, strong and rough in a way I'd imagine a giraffe's tongue might feel like. The entanglement didn't last long, and then giraffe-tongue girl abruptly sat up and walked away, leaving me shivering on the couch. Who said dreams don't mean anything?

'But every time I look at you, I hope it's your arms I fall into.' - Falling Away, Big Scary