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Fleur Susannah

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Friends only [Jun. 20th, 2007|05:03 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |peacefulpeaceful]
[music |God Speed]

Once I was a real blogger. And a quite good one at that. But the hey-day of this blog has been and gone. No longer does it explain how I single handedly kept the apocalypse at bay between the ages of 4 and 11, the humiliation of having home made underwear, the history of the modern female orgasm, updates on my struggles with eating disorders or contain surveys of how much sex education various readers received or essays about the perversion of the Australian media. Still the occasional gem appears but no where near the quality of its past days. And the final blow has come: this is the entry I have to write to announce what some of you may have already noticed:

This blog is now friends only. For anyone else who is reading this and not on my friendslist, you really aren't missing too much. My entries these days are more likely to contain pleas for proof-readers than competitions for the best manner in which my grandmother's glasses ended up in a cumquat tree. For those of you who know me well or have been reading this for a long time, you will know how much I hate having to lock it but such is life, I guess.

Comment if you want to be added but, as has been previously stated, it isn't really worth it kiddies.

Please note, I do not mean to sound self-pitying when I say this. I am incredibly happy with my current readership and how my journal is these days suits me fine. I tend to be more active these days on my deviantart account (http://halohid.deviantart.com). Also if you are looking for a blog which is more in the style of what mine used to be jickle is the best blog that I know of.
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Cars I have known [May. 9th, 2007|07:54 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[Tags|, , , ]
[mood |uncomfortableuncomfortable]
[music |Jarvis Cocker Album]

A friend recent told me that I own 'the most student car I know'. I guess my Claude does fall into the category of 'student' quite neatly really. Tiny, over 15 years old, two seats and decorated with stencil art. In addition to this, the left side has been smashed into so and you can't unlock that door from the outside and the socket for the passenger's seat belt has been mauled by a Labrador and is barely functional.

This got me thinking about some of the other cars I have known which fit into the category of 'student'.

Cheyney's Car, 'Baby'

It takes a while to get used to driving 'Baby'. The most difficult aspect of 'Baby' is the gears. How do I explain this? They are sort of out of alignment. When you think you are in 'reverse' you are actually in drive and 'drive' is actually 'neutral' and so on and so forth. When you are used to it all is merry and Cheyney doesn't even notice this little oddity of Baby's, just like I forget I have one door smashed in until someone has to try and get in.


Hannah's Car, 'Maisy'

Now this is one car I absolutely hate to drive, mostly because it randomly stalls at traffic lights. In addition to this, Maisy has also developed another oddity: her right indicator will not work in conjunction with the headlights. Bloody annoying when driving at night, I can assure you. Sometimes when I am doing a right hand turn across a well lit inter-section I turn off the headlights completely and other times I alternate between the two options.


James' Car, which remains nameless

Now, in the race for Number One Student Car, James' must surely lose a few points because people still try to break into it so it must look in better shape then it is actually in. Thanks to numerous break-in attempts, the locks have been well and truly fucked. Now the only way to unlock the damn thing is to climb in through the boot and unlock it from the inside. In addition to this a 10 cent coin was dropped into the steering wheel. Consequentially, the horn goes off randomly when you turn left. Sometimes it produces a short, sharp beep and other times it continues to sound until you punch it really, really hard.

I must also mention the car which James owned before his grandparents gave him his current gem. Its locks had also been destroyed, so much so that you could unlock it with a 20 cent coin. James actually found this very useful for when he was being a pizza delivery boy: he would leave the car running with the keys still in the ignition whilst he took the pizza to the door and would then re-enter the car by means of a coin.


So, I hand it over to you, kids. Which car gets the title of 'Most Student-ish Car'? My 'Claude', my housemate Cheyney's 'Baby', my sister Hannah's 'Maisy' or either one of my ex-boyfriend's gems? Or, alternatively, do you know of a car which is more deserving of the title? Tell me.
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(no subject) [Apr. 14th, 2007|11:23 am]
Fleur Susannah
[Tags|]
[mood |jubilantjubilant]

Last night I slept terrible but that is okay! Sometimes insomnia produces useful things. Last night produced several very ambitious concepts for photoshoots, a random text message to my sister, the expansion on an essay plan on my directorial concept for Porgy and Bess and, most exciting of all, a title for the current play I am writing.

I am a quarter of a way through my latest play which has previously been called 'Four Nights' because it takes place over four nights. (Yes, naming things is not my forte.) It is about sexual abuse within a family and who is to blame. Thanks to my insomnia, it is now called 'The Sleeping Dog Lies' which makes me happy on so many levels. a) Because we all know it is best to let a sleeping dog lie b) because one of the characters is called Wolf and constant references are made to him either being a predator or a guard dog according to whose side you take c) because the sleeping dog might lie or tell multiple lies. Gosh I am pleased with myself! That honestly took me an hour to come up with!

Just thought I'd share. A few of you here here have read the first draft of act one. Thoughts? And how awesome is my word play!?

A happy Fleur.

Oh and in other news, yep, still in plenty of pain and doped up on hardcore pain killers but I guess that isn't going to change any time soon, is it?
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A new story, part 1 [Apr. 9th, 2007|09:09 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[Tags|, , , , , , ]
[mood |chipperchipper]

Read more...Collapse )


Something nasty in the wood shed says:
This is the first bit of the story whose character I said you wouldn't like.

Simma says:
ok i read it, why was i not going to like it?

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
You don't mind the mother?

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
I thought the whole, trying to get herself pregnant without the guys knowing would have made you dislike her.

Simma says:
Its a strong character, i would not be able to let it go without issue but thats my choice

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
And here was I typing away going 'hehe, Simon will hate this one!'

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
My evil genius is thwarted again.

Simma says:
lol sorry

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
That's okay. I'll just have to try harder next time.
Make her go on a penis collecting rampage or something.

Simma says:
lol that would be hi-larious

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
Not really in keeping with the style of the piece to date but I'll see if I can slot it in.

Simma says:
oh god, contemporary drama about a womans quest for identity and a brief chapter in which there is mass murder and penile theft

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
On a completely different note, today I cleaned my room using a wooden peg, a ribbon and a broken radio antenna.

Something nasty in the wood shed says:
And my god that story is so much better if left at the first sentence.

Simma says:
lol thats seven kinds of odd
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(no subject) [Apr. 8th, 2007|10:23 am]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |thoughtfulthoughtful]
[music |Midnight Oil]

Both housemates have returned to their family homes for the Easter break so me and the two doggies have been left to our own devices. I'm really enjoying it actually. I'm working on a new story, watching stupid amounts of Buffy and doing dance routines in my underwear all over the house.

Last week I saw a new physio and she gave me a series of exercises to strengthen my pathetic right arm. I have started off with a 400 gram can of kidney beans as my weight and could only lift it 5 times in a row last week but now I'm already up to 10 lifts before it becomes too painful. Me and my kidney beans are the best of friends now and we go everywhere together.

The drugs I'm on at the moment have been working really well but for the first time in ages I forgot the take them last night so I am dreading today and am already in more pain then I've been in for ages. But knowing I brought this about by forgetting my drugs makes it sort of easier to cope with. I know that if I hadn't been stupid, I wouldn't be in pain.

I really want to get a few photoshoots done over the break. I have no paid gigs coming up (which entirely my own fault as I've had to let several pass because of being idiotic with pain) but this means I'll be able to do more creative things.

In the last month, I have auditioned for three productions and not been successful in any application. This has been really hard to take but strangely, it has come at a time when I've been becoming much more confident in my acting ability. On Thursday I had a major assessment and I really feel surprisingly confident that I did well. My dancing ego, on the other hand, has been completely crushed. I constantly feel guilty when people are partnered with me, as I am sure I will hold them back. I want to push myself but everyone fears my sling and is too nervous to push me. Alot of our work is currently based on lifts and no one is willing to trust their weight to me (and considering my 400 gram of kidney beans, they are probably right not to let me take their weight) and is too scared of dropping and injuring me to balance me. This has been really hard but I am now participating in almost everything we do in class and it has been more then a week since I've had to leave a room in too much pain to continue.

Sometimes it is hard to know if I am pushing myself too hard or if the pain I feel is just from working hard. On Thursday I was doing part of the main routine from The Metamorphosis Project (the main movement project for Second Year BPA students). The big cat sequence is by far the hardest part for me as it involves alot of weight on arms. We had been working on ones of these minutes (pretty much Down-face dog with only one leg on the floor and the other pointing up to the ceiling). I was in pain but dismissed it as what everyone else must be feeling until my arm actually collapsed and I fell onto my face. It really shocked me because I always think that I am being too cautious and not pushing myself enough but I guess I'm not being as lax as I think.

Thank god I'm getting special consideration for the semester.
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Self indulgence [Mar. 27th, 2007|07:51 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |melancholymelancholy]
[music |Porgy and Bess]

Being in pain alters your personality. I really hate what it is making me become. More then anything, I hate that my friends have to suffer me. Even the most patient of them must be tired of it by now. They are as supportive and wonderful as ever (two of them took me to hospital last night and kept me entertained while we waited for my MRI scan and made the whole experience verging on enjoyable) but I know that they must just be so tired of it. I know they must be because I am so, SO sick of it myself. I just wish I didn't have to put up with it any more.

Today I was feeling so miserable about it that I thought I would remind myself (and anyone else who felt like reading it) what I used to be before this dominated my life. Before I started to have to edit my answers to 'how are you?' so as not to become repetitive, when I was enjoyable to be around and didn't carry hard core pain killers around with me. Before I started to consider going back to SA just to give my friends in Victoria a rest. So here it goes:

A Fleur who is not silly with pain is actually a surprisingly good nurse. I fire twirl in my underwear in public and am a big fan of nudity. This said, I've never been able to sleep naked, much to the disappointment of previous lovers. I've appeared on stage in my underwear and had an on-stage orgy with three other actors. Both the men were gay and the other girl was straight. Oh the chemistry! I photographed women to show them how beautiful they are. I fostered a customs puppy for a year until she tore out all the wires in our hot water service and had to be sent back. I super glued small, yellow toy chickens throughout the main mall of Adelaide and was delighted to see that they had all been taken within a week. All twenty of them had found new homes. Or been destroyed. Either way. I have jammed with other musicians in a friend's kitchen, using only voice, cello, saucepans and a length of PVC pipe. I am a singer (classical and jazz but strictly not pop), actor, dancer, photographer, director and playwright and have won awards for five of those six things. My dancing still leaves a little to be desired. I am scared of moths, spiders, banks, laundries and public transport. I am a horrible passenger in a car. I am a good cook but a terribly reluctant host as I tend to find parties stressful. I read slowly. I am dyslexic. I bite my finger nails. I once nearly choked to death on a 20 cent coin. I don't cry in public. I hate taking medication or pain killers. I am obsessive about sunscreen and nag everyone about it. I love talking to new people but hate crowds. I am addicted to chips.

Sometimes it is hard to remember that I am a person under the pain. I just wanted to remind myself. Very self-indulgent. Sorry.
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A heritage. [Mar. 25th, 2007|08:01 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |soresore]

All the characters I have played, that I have truly been for a brief moment or for several months, are my ancestors. They become part of what brought me to this place. In my history, my blood, there lie the memories of Auschwitz concentration camp, of the animalistic strength which kept Fania Fenalon alive, of the rape of Persephone. I came from a woman who felt the hands of a terrifying, unknown god upon her body yet grew to accept her fate, as Queen of the Underworld. Emily Webb of New Hampshire lies in the narrative of becoming me. The tale of her wedding is as familiar as that of my parents. The Country Women’s Association catered for them and did not provide enough plates. Guest had to eat off of saucepan lids. Emily was terrified at the door of the church and it was only the comforting words of her father and husband-to-be which kept her from fleeing. Victoria’s sexual revolution led to my creation. My heritage is in her leaving her manipulative husband. I came from a fox, a cat, a dog, a bear and a bird. Skin and bitten fingernails grew from feathers, fur and claws. I am the product of animalistic fear, fight and lust.

However, I am not these characters. They are my ancestors but are not me. When I relinquish these roles, they become part of the process which created me but a process, a memory, a heritage and not my life. The terror of Persephone belongs to her, my history, and not to me as Fleur. One cannot hold onto all their characters. We must shake them off, bid them a fond farewell and leave their instincts, their urges, their passions and neurosis behind.

Being the fox taught me much. I responded with my body, not my mind. I became more primitive; more truthful. However, being human is responding with our minds, morals and intelligence emotions. The fur was borrowed, just as the protective skin of Victoria, hardened by the misery her husband inflicted upon her, was borrowed and the fluttery, panicked hands and quivering lips where borrowed from Sylvie Moon.

Each characters brought me a step closer to where I am today but to linger as them is t not take the next step. It is to become sick and insular, too caught up in someone else’s life to live your own and return to Self.

I lingered once, as Fania Fenalon, locked in her experience of survival, hunger, weakness, fear and anger for the entire duration of the performance run. I did not step out of her after each night’s show to return to Fleur. That week I spent much time alone, angry when I was disturbed and fearful in the light. I lay for two hours, curled up in the darkness between the floor and the stage, feeling strangely disembodied and weak. Her reality became more real then my own. That week taught me much.

There must be a transition, a moment when the slumbering Self returns, when the body unfurls and becomes human. I do it through breath. The transition is very physical. As the body adjusts, returning to its usual posture and breath, the mind resumes ownership of it and Self takes over. Laughter or self-critic help some people but I prefer the moments when I can simply step aside and, without reflection or embarrassment, make the experience part of my heritage and continue to be Fleur.
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(no subject) [Mar. 24th, 2007|01:47 pm]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |blahblah]

The positives:

I suddenly have access to some amazing new and old photography equipment through the guy who does the photography and media work for the drama and English faculty at Uni. I'll possibly be doing some of the photography for the department this year which is brilliant but more then anything I'm excited about the equipment. There are some fabulous brand new lenses that I have the chance to use. I have some amazing photo shoots planned in which I shall take the virginity of this http://www.lensbabies.com/ amazing little lens. *bounces*

The negatives:

Last week a girl crashed into my car, causing around $2600 damage which is more then the car is technically worth. This said, to get a car as good I would probably have to pay over $3000. I'll be given around $900 for him as a write off and then I could buy the 'wreck' off the insurance company and pay the $2600 to get him fixed. This little car I brought in 2003 for $1200 and has been incredible ever since. He runs brilliantly and has never needed any repairs done to him that my father couldn't do. (Except for the time I got a flat tire and -living in a different state to my dad- couldn't figure out how to change it. Yes, I am shit at practical things.) My father brought his current car for around $10 000 the week after I found 'Claude' and since then has had many thousands of dollars of repairs done to it.

I've done stencil art over him, he takes $22 to fill up and famously was driven from Adelaide to Melbourne by my father on $35 of petrol. Now I don't have enough money either to fix or replace him. In addition to that, my poor dog has been having problems with her skin which has led to being put on medicated food which costs $40 for a week and a halves food. By budget for a week is $120 from centerlink so this is a pretty massive blow.

Sorry. I needed to vent.

Yeah... also still in plenty of pain. I'm going to hospital to get some scans done on Monday. My muscles have all withered away so now I can barely lift two kilos at once.


But still... Camera lust! Yay!
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A random thought [Feb. 16th, 2007|09:34 am]
Fleur Susannah
[mood |depresseddepressed]
[music |Dresden Dolls, 'Truce']

What if my beagle is actually God? Or possible a sort of watching angel. Maybe all dogs are sent to Earth by some deity to watch us and report back to someone. I wonder what Solace would report.

I think it would change depending on the day.

Today she might report thus:
Dear God,
Well Fleur is fabulous! I mean, she rubbed my tummy for half an hour this morning! Isn't that worthy of a Saint-hood? Then she got out the Puppy walking machine* and we went for an awesome run through the parks. It is only 9:30 in the morning and already she is the best person EVER!

On Tuesday she may have written this:
Dear God,
Fleur is a tyrant!!! She deserves to be imprisoned in the deepest dimensions of hell for all eternity. Today she put me in water and rubbed foul smelling stuff all over me! I had worked for a week to achieve maximum stink and she went and washed it all off! I'm telling you, this lady is no good! Eventually I escaped and hid under the bed for the rest of the day. hate her


Sorry, a bit random. It was just a thought.





*bike
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Some men really deserve to be worshipped [Feb. 1st, 2007|10:58 am]
Fleur Susannah
[Tags|, ]
[mood |gratefulgrateful]
[music |Dresden Dolls]

A tribute:

On Friday I went up to Emerald for GemCo Players Australia day festivities. Its an hour drive and by the end my arm was completely useless and I was close to tears. I wandered around for a bit, hoping that movement would return but by 7pm I was forced to admit that there was no way I could drive home. So what does one do, stranded 50kms from home? They call Nimrod who drives that distance to pick me up! My car was housed in Emerald but I got home thanks to Awesome Man Number One.

So I exist for a few days without my car. I could barely drive so it didn't make much difference. On Monday I go to my physio appointment, pretty much in tears because Monday was a Bad Day. The physio is distressed to see that two trips to her every week for six weeks have done nothing and refers me to a new physio. Simma picks me up from the physio and walks me to my big brothers house. Note, Awesome Man Number Two! I arrive at Jarrod's house, hug him, collapse on his bed and begin shaking uncontrollably and nearly threw up from the amazingly intense pain that has suddenly struck. Big Brother Jarrod stays with me the whole time, gets me medication and a heat pack. Note, Awesome Man Number Three.

By the time Nimrod is out of work, the pain has subsided enough for me to go with them when he and Jarrod drive back up to Emerald to get my car. Big Brother takes my car to go and visit a friend and Nimrod drives me back to my lad Paul's house. Paul makes me have a hot bath, cooks me tea, gives me a massage and puts me to bed. We are up to Awesome Man Number Four. Jarrod drops my car off at Paul's house at 3am and walks home. It is about 5 or 6 kms. He filled the car with petrol and washed it.

The next day he gave me a bike.


I don't know what I've done to deserve these four incredible men in my life but I sure do know that I need to get them massive, expensive presents.

Oh, and a fifth man has offered to drive me up to Emerald today for a rehearsal, wait around for the two and a half hours and then drive me home. Believe me, I know I am blessed.
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