Hey libs, if you're at home sometime today I can drop off your scarf, jumper and pear nectar.

Libby just got this SMS.

Happy Birthday Mil. Twenty-five is a pretty good age. Although tough to say if it's better than twenty-four. Definitely better than twenty-two.

Beyond the finger on the trigger

Miranda Devine has a good article about the boy who shot those students in Virginia. His story is so familiar, and mostly me makes me wonder why attacks like his don't happen more often. I could have been him when I was younger. Leaving school was one of the best decisions I've made. I had a couple of other friends when I was 13, but my social experiences were predominantly at school. Students hide out in libraries and bathrooms to minimise the number of interactions they have with other students. I suppose I took that minimisation problem to the logical extreme.

Schools suck and I wouldn't argue with anyone who thought that spending 22 hours a day in their bedroom by themselves was less harmful to their psyche than going to school.

Helen and Jon came around for dinner tonight. It was pretty fun but those two sleepy kittens always have to go nap just when the party's getting started. Jon always inspires me to not worry so much about feelings of inadequacy concerning social appropriateness.

We had curry which was hot but pretty tasty. We should have put less curry paste in.

I watched the very end of The Departed after months of wondering and was well satisfied. Scorcese is pure brilliance.

Houses are way quieter with five people than they are with six people. Especially when the sixth person is Jem. Since my sister went overseas I feel like I don't have any friends.

I reckon The Shins could be my favourite band. Apart from Merril Bainbridge (obviously) I haven't ever really wanted to be friends with anyone from my favourite bands. But I really want to be friends with the boys from The Shins. Even Bob Dylan, who I love, I wouldn't really want to be friends with, because for me that would be like being best buddies with Elijah from the old testament. And while you'd like to think that you can mix it with the prophet crowd, deep down I think we all know we'd just embarass ourselves.

Hot nudey woman

tits too

Ian is visiting me today. He's just stopping by in Sydney for the day. I haven't seen him yet, but he's around. I was going to pick him up from the airport last night, but rang into some hassles at customs I am guessing. I sent him a message asking him what was up and I got this.

I cutting trees. Distillation was not success. Well little fuel. Reasons i can explain... Busy busy busy deforestating

There is a dog that lives not far from us who we see whenever we go to St Peter's station. He's a friendly, sad-looking dog. He always gets happy whenever people walk past, but goes back to his bed when they don't stop to pat him.

Libby and I have wanted to pat him for a long time, but we were always too scared. He's a big dog, and you get the sense that if you caught him on a bad day he'd be able to snap your arm without even breaking a pant.

But today Libby told me I should pat him when I walked back home after dropping her off at the station. So I did. And he was a great dog. So lovely and generous. He got a bit riled when a skate-boarder skooted past, but who can blame him.

I read his collar too, looking for his name. It said Today we kill, Tomorrow we die. I can only assume it was an ironic statement by the dog, like the guy in Full Metal Jacket. Perhaps he was wanting to say a little something about the duality of dog. Sir.