Uninternally Consistant.

I missed the meetup. Total fail. I accidently took the keys to the gaage with me when I left my house, and then needed to wait for my boyfellow to get to the bus stop so I could give him the keys, because well, all his stuff is in the garage and being able to lock it is good. So, I waited, missed some busses. Got to central at 11:30 everyone was gone by then and I didn't know where the place was, so I sadfaced and went home. New housemates (though I'll be moving again soon) are not in the lolita community, but both own some loli-stuff. One of them was like "If it makes you feel better, we can dress up and go to garden city" (we all had stuff we needed to do there.) and that was really sweet of her, like, seriously nice gesture.


I don't feel god about missing the meet-up. Also, Andrea I don't really have your contact details besides the livejournal, lol. I'd like to meet up with you and stuff, I feel bad, like, having missed you and not connecting since you got back in the country. I want to see you! :)

So, like, I pretty much live in Brisbane now.

Hee. I was at Cavs place for Christmas since my family (Read: Mother) is batshit insane, and I wasn't dealing with that in an environment I couldn't easily get out of. (The party was located in an area near Tamborine Mountain with no public transport options.) I'm uncontactable excluding the internet. No home or mobile phone at the moment. Tamala was a wise enough creature to figure that I might be at Cavs and they rocked up for a short time. Older sister Elissa smiled "Its your Christmas dress!" My Christmas dress is the one in this picture: http://community.livejournal.com/daily_lolita/687663.html

I was wearing the bodyline JSK made with the same fabric since its cooler. It was cute. Elissa gave me a little Christmas bag, and in it was an incense holder with some incense, because, we are of hippie stock. I went out and bought some lavendar nag champa, for the sake of nostalgia. Oooh.

I'm taking a break from packing at this moment. My life, going into bopxes, its nostalgia all up in here!

Coming to Brisbane _soon._

Cav has been in Melbourne for a little while, occasionally being able to get on the internet. Just had a chat that I wanna share, because it is fun. Despite our weird lolissues, we are a surprisingly lolgood couple. :3

------------------------------

Celria; Maaan, yesterday was wanting huggles and cuddles, like, so bad. Not comforting "I R Sad" types. Just "Oh yeah. Awesome." types.
Cav: WTS
Celria: WTS?
Cav: want to sell
Celria: Want to sell? I mean, wat?
Cav: >:3
Celria: I'm not paying for huggles and cuddles.
Cav: They're not worth it?
Cav: WELL FU2
Celria: You don't pay for my huggles and cuddles.
Celria: Its a mutual huggle-and-cuddle-ship.
Cav: Mine are of higher quality. This are fact prove by science
Celria: Howso?
Cav: SCIENCE
your female brain could not possibly comprehend it.
something which has also been prove by science.
Celria: Howso?
Cav: Science!
Celria: You can't just say science.
Cav: S-I-E-N-SUH
Celria: That's not how science works.
Cav: yes, but the complicated explanation would be lost on you
and there's no point entertaining the possibility it wouldn't
because it's already proven that it would.
(this proof suffers from a similar complication)
Celria: That etiquette book I read that was written a few hundred years ago, or however long
mentioned that while female brains might be incapable of understanding science, that menz who just speak sweet nothings, were generally considered unpopular with the ladies, and you should try and explain, even if she doesn't get it.
Celria: humor the ladies by telling them science things, then they'll think you respect them.
Cav: I don't believe in talking down to people like that.
Celria: Its more respectful? I can respect that sort of position.
Cav: Is it respectful to make conversation on something that your target can't possibly understand? Doesn't that fall into the category of inappropriate, much like a maths professor who kept talking about theorums and numbers and stuff in the company of lolarts students?
Celria: It depends on context.
Cav: Trying to help them understand and treating them as if they have the potential to do so can only be hurtful when they inevitably fail.
I'm awesomeful. In that if you take some away from me, I'm awful :D:D
Celria: You wouldn't go on about the joys of propositional logic, but you could be like "Hey, lolarts students. Isn't it crazy that 0 is a number? Like, seriously, lolwat?"
Celria: Actually...
Cav:Could still be inappropriate
also, lololol gotta rush
people at the door
Celria: propositional logic was a bad example
Cav:got to really get my social on
Celria: lolarts students can use that shit
Cav: buhbyes :3:3
hugs
Celria: Bye.
Ilu. hugs
Cav:(I do not really think your female brain can't understand science)
(I mean... cooking is a science :P)
Celria: (OhLawd.)

I'd lost my ID awhile back (did I mention that here?) which I had thought totally blew my opportunity to soon move in with Tamala in Brisbane since she was angling to get me on the lease and as far as I could tell not being on the lease was not an option that she and her housemates wanted. This has changed, I can move in without bein' on the lease, and can perhaps aim to get on it next time its renewed or get a sublease or whatever.

This means, after all my talk for _almost a year_ I _will_ be moving to Brisbane. Scheduled to be happening after Christmas. At Tams place I still won't have a room, unless we can find some way to make the garage more hospitable. Tamala has a huge bedroom. The idea is to put up dividers and split it in half, which is more privacy than I have here.

I need boxes, and I'd feel wrong leaving here without helping Matt and Mike give it a good cleaning.

I rarely feel in the mood to post, and a posting mood just hit me, so I'm going to roll with it.

This post will probably be quite jumbly, partially because I feel somewhat jumbly. (Don't ask me to define it, the non-defined nature of 'jumbly' is all part of it, yo.) It'll also be jumbly because I am quite ill and sore, but I _cleverly_ decided to stay up all night on activitied such as playing dating sims and watching a body language documentary instead of getting the sleep my body well needs.

I've been working my way through "The Definitive Book of Body Language" by Alan and Barbara Pease. This is after having read "Body Langage - how to read others by their thoughts and gestures" by Mr Pease. "how to read others" was written first and the definitive book written later, and its a lot like the first book, only with more information, but some rather unfortunate sexist comics to go along with it.

Anyway, reading the book. Its covered submissive gestures like princess Diana used to use. The coy head down, looking up at you sort of thing. Move on to a shot of Marylin Munroe who was looking all gorgeous. Head tilted, eyes half closed, eyebrows up, mouth in an open smile. Lookin' over her shoulder a bit atcha.

Now, a good way to actually learn and pick up on the gestures is to practice them. If I'm going through the micro-expression training tool for example and something tricky flashes, where I'm not sure if its disgust or anger, I'll try and replicate exactly what I saw onto my face, and guess the emotion from there. So, I assume Ms. Munroe's pose. It makes me think of a photo of m'self that I can't currently seem to track down. One of the ones taken at the lolita high tea meetup. I've been actively trying to work on body language, see, since learning about it. (Though, I don't seem to easily rid myself of that fear/anxious face do I? I went through that set, and gosh, I look afraid in disproportionate amounts.) Cav was going through the photos. Stopped at one where I had a confident pose, open body language, wrist display, etc. He paused for a moment, gestured towards my figure in the picture, did thinking evaluating gestures, was grinning. I said "Yes. I was actively trying there for that."

My thoughts ran for a bit, somewhere I don't remember now and can't track easily. Body language, deception detection, etc. I was thinking about the incongruous slips, the distancing language, etc. N'I had a somewhat pleasant thought. I might hate people, and think we're all bastard covered bastards with bastard filling, but we're actually, a more honest bunch then I tend to think in my cynical moments. Distancing and incongruencies often (but don't always) occur because we don't _like_ lying.

Thats interesting.

Ooooh dear. While I was on that positive note, I spiraled down into deep negatives. Best articulated with a short, precise: "Fuck you Stags." Not exactly finding LJ Drama awesome, but wanting to be honest, I'll note Stags did something fair awful, and displayed some _extremely obvious_ signs of lying about it. Here's a little tip: The congruent emotional response to being accused of something you didn't do is _anger._ NOT: "and yeah when it comes to wanting to kill myself, this is one of the top reasons for it, cause i hate myself for it"

Dammnit. Fuck _you_ Stags.

Alright, posting because I've not in a while and procrastination is fine too.

First exam Thursday for the discrete mathematics course. Second exam like, four days after that for the networks course, and then an exam for programming 2. Conveniently put in the order of most, to least difficult.

Umm. Life is alright.

Gee. I dunno what to say.

Oh, the UK apparently recently passed some motion to criminally punish men who use prostitutes who have been coerced, manipulated or forced into the job, even if they don't know she's been forced, which makes the punters have to do research to know that she's not being pimped, putting the burden of responsibility onto the purchaser. 'Cause punters fuel the demand for the illegal sex trade, trafficking, pimping etc. N'they're the ones with money and power in this situation, as opposed to the group most likely to be exploited. I read through an account of the politicians debating it, and looked around at what activists were saying. Far as I can tell the ISUW (a group comprised alarmingly of pimps in the upper levels, particularly for whats supposed to be a _sex workers union_) will push to get it rejected at higher levels on the basis that strict liability ("I swear I didn't know officer") has so far only applied in cases where the person being punished is the one who is committing the primary offense, when in this case, the pimps are the primary offenders. I'm not one for legal stuff though, and I've not been following the politics for a while, so I'm a bit shakey.

Looks like they're on their way to the Nordish/Swedish model though, which is, imo, the best. Prostitution better be decriminalized, and there needs to be a strong focus in the NGOs part for providing exit services though...

Anyway. I guess the point of the above block of text is that activists who I agree with, are getting things done. Real things! Which is a huge step towards less exploitation and rape. (Demand for trafficked women drops as johns are criminalized, etc.)

It makes me want a little glass of champagne.

In the past week or two I've been told: "You're intelligent, clever like", "You're smart as", "You're clever, you should be able to handle the AI courses easily", "Your writing is intelligent, clear, collected and still real, like there's a person behind it.", "You're smarter than me, and you get better grades,they're not the same thing, you're a moral fucking paragon, and you can drink me under the table, what is this shit? Stop emasculating me!"

I've also realised I have a very real possibility to be able to do some sort of research in applied deception detection in IT over the holidays using the summer scholarship program.

And... and...

My grades are average, everyone seems to think they'd be higher than they are because I know things and I can answer questions and hold my own in conversations, but I waste so much time being moody, anxious and/or drunk. N'when I'm not so down or anxious that I can't study effectively, I'm unmotivated and lazy.

N'its frustrating. These feelings that I'm stupid, so constant and heavy. Its only recently that I've started actually internalizing to at least some degree that I'm not thoroughly stupid. All these people, including really clever people, who know me well. They wouldn't keep calling me smart all the time if I was as stupid as I tell myself I am, right?

*sigh*

Well, I'm going to either sleep, or keep programming.

I like programming when it goes well, like it has been tonight. Being logical and applying problem solving techniques, and they _work._

*sigh*

That was my favorite picture of myself from the meet, I suppose because it was so natural and I'm not posing. I can't remember when it was taken, or what ainead was showing me, but I look engaged, interested and some happy. I like it! Also you can see the parasol, thats cool.

Suze told me I should write on livejournal more often. I get this feeling if I wrote here, I'd keep generating all these angsty emo posts though, not sure I like that.

For example, while I'm feeling decent today, I spent a fair amount of yesterday, and the night before that, well, crying.

See, I've been a little emotional lately, it happens. It was a good friends engagement party on Saturday, started as a BBQ in a park at 10:30am where we migrated to the pub and I don't know what time I got home, because I was a little trashed. ((I'm not drinking this month excluding for parties, btw.))

As the night wore on, it became apparent that a certain dudely friend of mine was _not okay._ He was real unhappy. I asked him how he was, he said fine. I assured him that if he wasn't fine, that was okay, not being fine is allowed y'know, and he started crying and told me that he was _not_ fine, and it was fair sad.

Then on Sunday I went to the loli meetup and I had a nice time catching up with people, it was really quite lovely, but on the way home Steph started crying and I talked her through it some.

That sets the scene a little. I have my own whack emotional issues, and then two days in a row I had mates breaking down in front of me (which I repeat, is okay. If mates need to break down, I won't judge and will do what I can to help. Its just that I dunno, transference issues lol?) so, I was already in a little emotional. N'then that night Cav and I had a chat.

This Saturday coming, we'll have been dating 10 months. He's never said he loves me, which I've been cool with because you shouldn't say that sort of thing unless you mean it. We had a chat and basically he told me it was weird because while at some points in the relationship he's felt a little romantic affection, for the most part on his end there's been nothing like that. He said he cares about me, and we have shared interests, a similar sense of humor, called me attractive and intelligent, said he likes learning from me, but that he doesn't love me. N'that he still sort of hopes that romantic feelings will come up.

N'I did the undashing thing and started crying. I apologized some, said that I've been emotional lately. Went through spurts of trying to get it together, and then little crying stages again. I asked what it meant, and he said it _didn't_ mean we can't continue to have a caring relationship.

Next morning we were chatting. I was trying to put on a neutral face, I'm not very goo at hiding or falsifying my expressions, and Cav is very good at reading faces. (Like. Very good.) at one point he noted it. "You look neutral. Well, no actually. You look sad."

I smiled "Yeah, sorry. Was reading more about NVC and psych stuff, I do know sad women are terribly unattractive." Cav listed several other unattractive traits, not all of which I have, but some of them I do. Swearing, intelligence. Then he was like "Well, no, intelligence is good if you don't take it too far, and witty is very attractive. Playing video games is attractive too, but only if you don't take it too far again. I guess, I guess shared interests are attractive, but only if you're not being a man about them." and I put on a little defeated look, and he looked apologetic.

N'he went off to study, and I cried more. 'Cause like. Well. In the four year relationship I had with Matt, there only would have been a few months, a maximum of a year where he was willing to say he loved me. So, I was sitting there feeling... unlovable. There's probably mommy and daddy issues too. (Spelled the American way because I'm making fun of myself.)Like, I get complemented. Dudes seem to think I'm admirable, I get respect, albeit grudging respect at times. N'don't get me wrong, I like admiration and respect, but... I like love!

Meh. So. I feel all raw and human like.

I've spent about an hour alternating between pacing up and down my street, going in my house, sitting down for a minute, feeling feelings, getting up and pacing up and down the street again. I'm supposed to be at uni, but I decided at some point last night that it wasn't happening since study for my math course is a better use of time.

I've not studied for my math course, I have paced up and down the street for about an hour with small periods of staying inside. I think I'm actually still dong it, but this is one of the inside moments.

Frenetic movements, facial expressions changing rapidly, fists clenching and unclenching.

A guy doing his gardening put his gardening things down and looked at me, I was tempted to spit out something like "Yes I _am_ crazy, go about your business."

Went to lolita meetup. Tired, left early. Decided "I'm on the train that will get me to Cavs station, while I'm on the train, maybe I should call him and see if he'd like to have me over for a bit?" He did, so I went to his place, then I tried to socialize with him and fell asleep on his couch. I woke up, went to his room, and fell asleep on his bed for several hours. I'd intended to go home, but I'm still here.

When I got here he hugged me and then said "You smell like lolita."

I was like "What? Lolita doesn't have a smell."

"You smell the way you do, when you're in lolita."

"I... I think... I think thats hairspray..."

:)

I got bored and decided rather than study I decided to photoshop a picture of myself into an icon. I've been on livejournal for two years now and have as many icons. It is my default icon now, as it is happier and I'd like to encourage some happy.

I like photoshopping myself... There was this episode of pokemon once where Ash and that joined up with Team Rocket for some reason and they went through James's belongings and he had all of these photos of himself. James put on this cute ashamed thing and said "I like looking at pictures of myself in my spare time." Its that. :)

Might make an entry about uni soon. P'raps.

Tired as fuck, I so doubt I'll make the meet tomorrow and that'll be the millionth one Ive missed. (Oh the powers of exaggeration!) *sigh* Bleh. I might be moving to Brisbane soon, if so, I'll go to loli meets more often. I can never sleep the night before a meet, I don't know why, its right terrible and I just feel fucked.

Blaaaaah.

I have recently developed something of an obsession for "lie to me" and related materials. I've spent the last few days pouring through reading materials, went through eckmans blogs on the show and his newsletter (Eckman being the RL researcher that Lightman is based on.) and the blog of an IRL natural. (They call them "Truth Wizards") The naturals blog is cool, she takes videos of celebrities and such, and gives her opinion on whether or not they're lying, then when the truth comes out she notes that she was right.

Cav has an interest in this sort of stuff as well, which is cool because it means I have someone I can talk with about it. He's way better at it than I am, like, if he's paying attention in test scenarios he can see micro-expressions and he's generally good at reading body language etc. I suppose he's doing psychology and he pays attention to people.

I don't think I want to learn it proper because I'd just see shit that'd depress me, but at the same time I'm considering buying Eckmans books and training CDs.

Before I was in the lolita community I was really bad at fake smiling for photos. When lolita-ing I learned some method acting, but I didn't realise it was called that. I'd think about things that cause me genuine happiness (often Cav, lol.) Anyway, I went through old photos from before I learned t'do that.

So many fear smiles! I are afraid? I've seen candid shots of me that end up looking scared too. I want to look less scared. I suppose that means I have to _be_ less scared. Ahahaha.

Ho.

Ads by google has given me an advertisement about some human rights group, and an advertisement for a goth store that sells steampunk things.

They're onto me!

Still, the advertisement on the right of this page is a sexy lady you can chat with thing, so, they don't have me down yet.
 

I am drunk on so much rageahol right now.

I was the only glassie rostered on at work tonight. It was state of fucking origin. I work at a fucking football club. There were hundreds of people there, it was packed, like shoulder to shoulder. Also after the game they held a search for a model contest which I found pretty fuckin' degrading. Especially when I heard one dude shouting in the general direction of the stage about how one of the women clearly had fake breasts. Like, fucker, you're participating in a pretty patriarchal event wherein the soley female contestants are judged entirely on their appearance and they're doing it for your pleasure and entertainment. N'you're surprised, nay, offended that they would artificially enhance said appearance? The makeup was fake too y'know, but I'm pretty fucking sure you'd complain if she went without it. Can't win for losing.

Copy pasted from the description I gave of my general state while working, to friends in an MSN conversation:

My entire being was split into three general categories. The first part was me trying to be as optimal and efficient as possible. Like, I didn't have the mathematic abilities or data to pull off running dijkstra's algorithm, but generally I was making active choices to be efficient as fucking possible in the shitstorm.

The second part was making sure if I had to push someone out of my way to get somewhere I was pushing the most confident looking large football dudes possible. The type who like to own the space they're in with the sense of entitlement so wide they think that they don't deserve to be moved, someone weaker should give up their space instead.

The third part was showing incandescent rage regarding the fact that management is thoroughly _abusing_ my tendency to do the first part in shitstorms. Because if they're going to abuse me like this, I shouldn't have to act like I'm _happy_ about it.

The context of that last bit: I feel bad if I do badly at something I'm being paid to do, it makes me feel like a failed human or some shit. Part of being good at my job means acting pleasant and social. I'm bad at both of those things, but I certainly try. Not tonight though. If I had to list the most taking thing about my job it'd be the having to act pleasant at all times, being hit on, or perhaps a combination of those two points: Having to act pleasant towards folk who are hitting on me. (I mean, a lot of them are entitled arseholes about it. N'drunk.) I rank these things as worse than cleaning the vomit in the tiny contained toilet cubicles, with the sort of smell you imagine vomit would have in a confined space.

I dropped the nice act tonight.

'Cause seriously? Fuck it.

I just bought a newspaper based in the cover story. I might write a more in depth version of what I want to say about this in my feminist blog, but raw unformed thoughts go here.

The article says that since prostitution has been legalised in Sydney, illegal streetwalking, illegal unsafe venues, trafficking and sex slavery have increased. I could have told them that would happen, being as that is what always happens. Demand for prostitution increases since the Johns feel entitled and know they aren't breaking the law. When deman in a place increase, thats when the trafficked slave girls get sent there. Legal venues cost the girls more money to work in, since the legal venues have higher running costs to maintain the testing of ze girls, implement the safety measures, and otherwise make sure the place is legal. While some women in prostitution are making good enough dough this isn't a problem, a lot aren't making great money and can't really afford the increased pay cuts, or feel the illegal place is worth the risk for the extra money.

Like. When I write my proper article I'll reference proper academic sources, but seriously, this shit isn't hard. I feel like legislators don't research these things as this ain't hard to look up, and I wonder if pimps and ze minority of prostitutes in good situations and such were the ones lobbying for legalisation since they get so much benefit out of the whole shebang.

BLAH. Swedish model ftw. (Though that has its issues too, I feel its not as bad as other available alternatives.)

I think I may have a fangirlish crush on Spock as a character. I mean the version in the movie, the one who was filled with emotion, more like an extremely repressed man trying to ignore the feelin's n'cloak everything in logic. Eee.