Letters To Australia

These damn earthquakes keep waking me up.

At least when freight trains go by and shake the house they make a lot of noise and I know freight trains are shaking the house.

When the house shakes quietly I wake up and think ‘Poltergeists!’

I’m happy here, excited about the year and not having any regrets… but I miss the fuck out of everyone.

I was going through the photos on my photobucket account, reminiscing and wishing.

Some photography for you:

my brothers and I on mother’s day at Pino’s Trattoria

building a human pyramid by the mound

me
callan, kate
nick, dave, moo carmel

the stripe in the grass to the right is where the year eights we hated built a mudslide. just quietly, i thought it might have been fun.

practising witchcraft at the table

i don’t recall why they are lifting me. check my velcro shoes though!

i’m wearing a shirt carmel made me that says ‘deliberately barren’ (kick-ass political reference) and a black lacy thong kate gave me (around my neck). kate is dressed as a teapot with party hat breasts. we are setting up a tent that would later become full of water and house some regretable moments on my part.
my eighteenth birthday.

clay muscling in on me and sam at pyramid rock chill island.

susannah, myself, sam

nina the polaroid queen took this after the lamest year twelve muck-up day in the history of the world. i’m wearing a yellow ribbon around my neck, the only evidence of totally hardxcore day we weren’t allowed to have off the school property in a field with no shelter – meat filled sandwiches provided.

I have other more amusing photos, but I rather suspect several people would seek revenge if I posted them.

‘maybe i’ll smother an mp3 in chickpea spread and solve none of our problems’

something to think about