Zoe Zombie

it’s beginning to FEEL a lot like Christmas

// August 14th, 2009 // Comments Off // humour

My family used to go ALL out for Christmas. Ever since I was born, I would always look forward to lots of presents from them and the rest of my family. I was spoiled, yes. But before you think my family are a bunch of bible bashers – we’re not. We just buy into the American style Christmas – all about gifts, nothing about Jesus. Just the way we like it.

Knowing that I had a lot to look forward to on Christmas day, I used to get so excited that I basically couldn’t eat or sleep in the days leading up to the ceremonial gift giving. Or sometimes I would eat so much because the feeling in my stomach felt like hunger – but I couldn’t tell.

Anyone close to me will tell you that I have wanted an iPhone since they came out. I am not an Apple fangirl. I’m not one of those douchebags who are like, “Ooh Windows sucks! Apple is the best! LOLZZ!!”. No. Windows does suck. But so does Apple. ALL computers suck. But. BUT. I love the look, functionality and style of the iphone. Most of all, I loved that I could have my ipod and a phone in one. Perfect.

Every time I have went to get one, it’s almost as though it has been snatched away from me. Or maybe I have just bought too many clothes. Either way, I have just never been able to get my hands on one. On Tuesday I thought – fuck it – here I go, I’m gonna get one. And I did. And then I thought – I have to WAIT until Friday to get it. What an anti-climax.

I had this weird feeling of not being able to sleep, either not eating or eating too much, feeling as though there were a thousand butterflies in my stomach, all ready to burst out. And I stopped. What was this feeling I was experiencing? I hadn’t experienced it since… Christmas ..when I was a little girl. My god. It felt as though it was Christmas, sometime between 1989 to 1994. What. The Fuck.

See, I’m old now. And I just do not get that excited about anything anymore. Not even my own birthday. Not EVEN Slayer and Megadeth on the same bill (I know – shame!). I’m excited about an inanimate object that will serve me no real purpose, other than to make a phone call. How worrying.

Why is Carrie Bradshaw (TV version) a hero for women?

// February 28th, 2009 // Comments Off // humour

When I was in Hong Kong, I bought the book “Sex and the City”. I had seen the film only a few months prior, was a big fan of the tv show and now I was ready to embark on the centre from which it all came. As I read the book, I thought – this woman is almost like a masochist. But I empathised with her. I related to her. Candace Bushnell made her alter ego feel like another person – one who seemed to be on the look for someone who would love her just the way she is, and got badly hurt along the way.

The television show lost the reality of this toward the end – I’m almost surprised that people were saddened when it was announced the show was finishing when it was so popular. To be honest, it began to border on “Fantasy” rather than the sexy, comedic tragedy of the earlier seasons.

Then there was the movie – and while die hards wanted to believe it was the best thing they had ever seen, I just kept imagining that dead, beaten horse. How could I empathise with a 40 something woman who finally decides to marry a man she’s been on and off with for 10 years? Watching the film was like watching a catatonic woman dressed in Dior – looks fabulous, but there is a whole heap of mess going on behind those eyes. So basically, what I am trying to say is – it was shit.

I liked Sex and the City because it seemed so normal – finally there was a show on tv that had women who (for the most part) talked the way normal women talk. It tried to break down those double standards that said women enjoy having sex too. And it’s got it’s too-funny parts – like when Samantha was trying to explain what exactly tea-bagging was, or the guy who fucked Carrie like a jack hammer, or when Charlotte dated “Mr Pussy”, even when Miranda faked every single orgasm she had with her lover at the time.

But as time went on, you think to yourself “I hope single women are not aspiring to be Carrie Bradshaw.” Sure, she has a shoe closet to die for, some awesome clothes and a job that everyone wishes they had – writing a column for a newspaper that takes up 3 hours of your week, leaving you enough time to spend your insane salary on shoes, lunches and clothes. But she’s emotionally retarded – she believes in a fairytale of the perfect man rescuing her from her life of singledom which she continues to say is “fabulous” but deep down in side knows that she doesn’t want to be alone forever. Who does? But her unrealistic view of relationships forces her to run away, or create problems so that eventually, whatever relationship she is in just crumbles.

I enjoyed being single, I thought it was awesome to do whatever I wanted with no one to answer to, not having to worry about someone else. And I could understand Carrie’s emotional retardedness when I started dating my boyfriend – but then I realised – I don’t want to be alone forever. I don’t want to be one of those women like Carrie Bradshaw (a fictional character, but you can’t say you’ve never met one like her) who just fucks off men because they’re not exactly what she is looking for and they can’t give her exactly what she needs. I don’t want to wake up one day at 38 and still be single because I blew some of the best relationships of my life.

So I was wondering what the second movie could possibly be about. I had just watched an episode earlier (for the 25th time) where Carrie runs into Aidan and his son and he says “I had a baby” and she says, with shrill and competitive excitement “I have a date!”. I mean, what the fuck? Are you 12? How is having a first date the same or even better than having a child with your wife who you just married?

I had remembered that there was talk of Aidan being in the movie, but those scenes were cut out. Then I wondered if he would be in the second film, and rejected the idea, but laughed out loud. I could just imagine, Carrie at 45, running up to Aidan with his however many children and saying something almost as retarded as “I have a date!” but she can’t since she is married. I’ll probably still see it – it’s a chick thing.

like a vampire who just had garlic shoved in his/her face

// January 21st, 2009 // Comments Off // humour

What the fuck is wrong with me today? And yesterday? And, if my memory goes back that far, the day before? It’s like all of a sudden, death metal is just pissing me off.

What an odd thing to realise. It even makes me feel just that tad bit dirty. Like a dirty traitor. Seriously, what the fuck? Yes, WHAT. THE. FUCK. Why today (and the day before and possibly the day before)? Maybe I’m just fucking sick of it at the moment. But then, that is a scary thing to realise – and here is why.

I realise that I’m probably going to offend a whole bunch of people but I don’t really care because, even though I try to believe, I am proved wrong every time. I don’t like anything but metal, and other than that – the good old pop, rap and hip hop stuff from the 80s, disco (don’t fucken ask me why), folk, rock, prog, psychadelic, funk etc from the 50s-80s.

Everything on the radio fucking sucks. This is why I have stopped listening to the radio all together (although I did listen to Indie 103 online when I had nothing else. Loved it. RIP Indie). All that dance/electronic/whatever sucks. New rock shit sucks. Rolling Stone sucks. Even fucking Metal Hammer sucks. Radio stations suck. Too many dance acts in Perth suck. Too many people who like dance music – it’s too easy! Come on, there has to be something more to you than that?!

I like Metal. It makes me think about things, it allows me live vicariously through stories etc that other shit can’t do. It’s awesome, it’s exilerating. It’s blunt, it opens my eyes. If I want to listen to shit where I don’t have to think, I will listen to shit like Ratt, or Motley Crue or Public Enemy… even the fucking Bee Gees! That shit was Boss. No matter how bad, it was still a good song – interesting, melodic, NOT trash.

Completely my opinion of course, but I hate the fact that people who like all this accessible music get the run of the yard. I’m fucking sick of seeing electronic music festivals. I think it’s retarded that these people impose their shit on everyone else and think metalheads like myself are just a lost cause. We’re your only fucking hope.

This is why I am scared that death metal is pissing me off today – and now I just made myself run right back into its morbid arms.

goodbye, 23 – and other things.

// January 12th, 2009 // Comments Off // humour

Today I am suprisingly battling a lovely bout of food poisioning. I was quite shocked and almost disappointed that it wasn’t a hangover. It’s just like me to get sick from food poisoning the day after my birthday rather than being hungover. It’s like christmas: when I curdled Bailey’s in my stomach and had to skip out on the most awesomest party on xmas day. Just my luck.

I have already learned a lot from this birthday, every single one makes you that much wiser and that much inclined to not give a shit.

My birthday felt like 200 cigarettes, you know that movie? It’s NYE in 1989 or some shit and one of the girls has this awesome party planned, she has a new dress and she’s sitting – waiting and waiting and waiting for everyone to come. The drinks are getting warm (or consumed by her), and no one has called to say they are not coming. I felt like that girl yesterday – I kind of felt stupid.

Perhaps I will start from the beginning: I decided a long time ago that people create their own present and futures. It makes sense to me. So I decided that even though my birthday (and party) were on a Sunday, and a day after a massive hens/bucks night, that the people who really wanted to help me celebrate really wanted to be there. The people that didn’t even bother to try and get a hold of me to say they weren’t coming even though they had already said they would, are the kind of people you don’t really want celebrating with you. What’s the point? I’m getting on in my years, why waste my time with people who don’t really give a shit about you?

So I thought, awesome – heaps of people said they were coming to our new casa before heading to the pub, to check out the digs. So Roger and I cleaned the entire house – it was so clean it was shiny. I was blind.

I made a platter, I made dips, I bought champagne, I had non-metal music playing on my iPod for those who don’t like it. I was sitting there, with my awesome new dress on, kicking heels, rearing to go – a little before the commencement time of 5pm.

5:10.. no one is here.
5:15 … still no one. no one has rung/sent messages/emails/nothing.
5:30… my dear friend Mahalia rocks up. We share champagne and some laughs.
5:45.. still no one else. I checked my phone for the billionth time, wondering if I had just missed a message.
6:00.. now it was time to go to the pub with Mahalia in tow. At least 10 people had said they were coming to our home and then on to the pub, but no. My platter, dips and the rest of the champagne is now just sitting in the fridge.

I felt, and still feel kind of like a fucking dickhead. Of course, I set myself up to be rejected – obviously not on purpose. But I felt foolish – I couldn’t believe that I put myself (with poor Roger) under so much stress to get everything ready, to make it all fabulous and only 1 out of the confirmed 10 had come. No one had even messaged to say “I’ll just meet you at the pub” in advance.

Onto the pub – a lot more people were there and it was a rocking time. Although I noticed someone obviously absent: my best friend from when I was 14. The person who had messaged me the same day to say Happy birthday, see you later on. Then never messaged to say she wasn’t coming. Although, upon later discovery she had in fact messaged me that she was ill and couldn’t make it although I never received this message. This made confusing when I wrote “Thanks for messaging me to tell me that you couldn’t come” in my sarcastic drunken state. Thankfully – that is straightened up now.

Although I cannot forget the others who didn’t come and had my phone number/email address and never bothered to tell me they weren’t coming. Even those who didn’t have my number: they used a friend who did have my number to contact me. See what I am saying when I say that those who really want to come (or can’t) will make the effort?

Although, I did get something back from my “rejection” and wasted platters: I had the most awesome collection of people: those who actually are my friends and want to celebrate my birthday even if there is work tomorrow, or they’ve had a busy day, or they are so hungover they feel like vomitting with every breath. That made me feel wonderful that I do have an awesome bunch of people I can call friends.

So perhaps my birthday was filled with a lonely platter and champagne and a little rejection, but I’m getting older and it’s time to grow up and move on and to not hold on to things that make you upset. And to not hold on to people who obviously don’t care to hold on to you. It never helps, it just ages you.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I simply must go stick my head in the freezer.

birthday madness

// January 7th, 2009 // Comments Off // humour

The 11th of January is my birthday and every year I have a party to commemorate this occasion. Although, I don’t really know where the motivation is coming from to have one. The last 3 birthdays have been insanely insane and not in a good way.

My 23rd was spent with a raging migrane that hit me so bad I was experiencing overwhelming feelings of nausea. My 22nd was spent trying to calm down a sad drunk. My 21st was a horrid family/friends gathering that my parents – particularly my mum – had imposed on me, despite my requests for them not to do so.

What I find most scary is that my mum always insists on making my favourite food which is sushi – sushi and pizza. It made me think about death row – don’t they give them their favourite meal before they kick the bucket? Last requests and all that stuff? What a thought.

Then there are the friends who say “Oh my gaaaaaawwwwdddd!!! I can’t believe you’re turning 24!!! Oh my gawwwwwwwwdddd!!”. They then stop short and continue talking about something completely different. The reason for this is that I am the eldest of my friends and they know that soon enough, the same thing is going to happen to them. Either they are not happy about it or they can’t believe that they will also be hearing “Oh my gawwwwwwddd! You’re turning 24!!!”. Getting older is not usually a popular conversation.

Since departing further and further from my teenage years, phrases such as “you’re only as old as you feel” and “age ain’t nothing but a number” start becoming part of my regular conversation. In 2 short months I went from being pissed at bouncers for asking for my ID, to welcoming the inquisition. Sure, I’d love to prove that I’m possibly under 18!

That last sentence looks really lame.

It’s kind of scary when I catch myself thinking “those stupid teenagers” because I think that when I was a teenager, people were looking at me thinking I was just a “stupid teenager”. I’m not sure if it’s insane jealousy, or thinking that we are somehow far more superior and wise just because we are older. I don’t think that those older than teens are a lot wiser – I’ve seen women double my age act like complete fools.

The thing I do love about birthdays is this: I can replenish my wallet so soon after Christmas and get whatever I want. So it’s not so similar to the last day on death row. Except maybe the “favourite meal” thing.

I think I am sick. Maybe.

// December 31st, 2008 // Comments Off // humour

I love old school Metallica, just like everyone else. I am pretty sure that old school Metallica and new shit Metallica are two different bands entirely. But I cannot help but say that I love Garage Inc (1998). Why? I have a fever!