Last night I was in hospital again! On my way home from work fun drinkies I got hit by a car! I don't really remember it because my head got hit REAL hard and the people drove off. I was in a vintage three piece suit and heels, sitting on the side of the road, totally confused out of my brain and Ruth , a girl I have been working with and an angel on wheels drove past by coincidence and picked me up. I got home, vomited blood, cried a lot and that is basically all I could piece together. My glasses flew off, as well as my giant feathery head piece which I did not realise until today. Sean found the head piece in the gutter where I was hit today, but not the glasses, which is clearly the most logical way for the universe to work. I have been sitting around the house all day in prescription raybans looking like a rich, important rock and roll star/ junkie. I'm all cut up and concussed and can't really lie down for the swelling & bruising on the back of my head, am still picking gravel out of my knees, am quite teary and bloodnosey etc etc.
On the plus side, I am watching Carrie Bradshaw yell at Mr. Big on late night T.V.

Invention test: Whinging, peppered with pretty great things.

Things I don't want to do include:
- Wake Up
- Go into the sunshine
- Get out of bed in any form, not even to watch Deal or No Deal
- EAT.

THIS IS GETTING PRETTY DIRE. I am making this big massive effort to feel better by Friday, because I made a pact with myself that I would not drink until election night (when I would either get well drunk and sing a bit, or drown my sorrows about our countries certain doom), and I am pretty keen to break that pact and riot with Jess Horrocks, as ladies and gents, she has her party back.

I have been having all sorts of nightmares like being in some weird sex club and having to hide from my old teachers and my rabbit was there too and totally getting wasted with my friends and then he would not sleep and then I was in a wheelchair trying to get help for my long haired sausage dog and then we made all these miracles happen like my toy cat twinkle came to life, but her owner said she was called 'Mad Cat'. Oh also, this lady kept sneaking me 'stoner food' which was banned in the super markets for whatever reason and then I broke vegan by eating all the stoner food and woke up feeling really sick?

I reckon at least 85% of people who read this (2 people?) would have skipped over that last paragraph because HOW INTERESTING IS READING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLES DREAMS?

Other things that have been vaguely interesting to me in between blowing my nose and groaning about aching muscles are:

Okay so not really anything about that image except for Callum, who is my #1 television crush. I'm really not sure what to do now that masterchef is over? My life feels kind of empty already. I think I am gonna have to get Sean to stand in front of the television and lisp while he pretends to cook until I get used to Callum not being there. That or I could set out on a fabulous stalker mission, have not decided which yet.

Collingwood being amazing in general, but especially this guy. Do not say anything about his real awful tattoos. He looks like Prince Harry so I'm into it.

Been reading some angry Michael Moore and a book about this dude's first year in office, which is INFORMATIVE and also FUNNY! Bonus! LGFWTT!

Oh my God, did I forget about Ani Difranco? Far out, I am a loser. Almost everyone I know laughs at me when I listen to Ani D (except Anneke who rules, and Sean, who says 'PLAY THAT FUCK YOUR FACE SONG'). I'm real sorry, but um she is amazing. She is all I have bothered listening to in the last little bit because she makes me feel the right balance of totally powerful kick-ass-she-ninja and scared-little-vindictive-ex-girlfriend. I think maybe I could make a lot of cynical non-fem doubters love her. I have been struggling not to post one hundred thousand facebook status updates full of her lyrics. Again INFORMATIVE and FUNNY. YUM.

I hope none of you are this sick, it is kind of bullshit. Can not wait to be fun again, world.



OH MY GOD I AM SICKKKK. And I wanted to tell you about all my successes, internet, but all I can think about is being sick.I have been dragging myself about the house complaining all day and falling asleep during Oprah and forcing Holly into hugs.
I want to go see Blondie and The Pretenders. DIVERSION. I am watching the television.
Anyway, I have been having a busy time around these crippling headaches and snot. Sean and I went on a HOLIDAY. It was down south! Which we have never done. I got to make a wicked good playlist for the car ride, including gems by B*Witched, All Saints, Motor Ace, Hanson, Lo-Tel and Kelly Clarkson. IT WAS GREAT! We got to meet cows and also a Pony and some birds. Sean let me run around in forests which were like, soooo Twilight and we played monopoly and also we got wells drunk whilst playing giant Jenga and watching Cougartown? I dunno. I spewed.
After that we came home! Sean's Dad threw a party and I got him so drunk he fell into the garden twice. Also we had a Bruce Springsteen campfire singalong so he has sky-rocketed up my friendship list.
Yesterday Sean and I went to IKEA and as promised he bought me a Toy Shelving Device, which is one step towards making my childhood/adulthood dreams of having a whole toy room/palace come true.
You will get a picture of this amazing new furnishing when ALL of my toys are there.
AND THEN my hair got cut all off and now I am blonde again because I told my hairdresser to do whatever. Yay?

Oh man. My life does not sound interesting.

Here is a pony.


My life revolves around the different types of toast I get to eat everyday.

Hey LJ!
I am writing to you from VEGAS! A BOAT! Actually just bed, as usual. I am in bed because IT IS FILLED WITH HOOKERS AND I AM FILTHY RICH NOW AND CHOOSE TO SPEND MY MONEY THIS WAY! I HAVE NEW ONE THOUSAND THREAD COUNT EGYPTIAN SHEETS AND AM BEING FED FRUIT IN THEM! But actually I just fell off some skyscraper heels after getting cocktail drunk with my mum last night and sprained my ankle real hardcore with lots of blood and stuff. My bed is filled with toast crumbs, not whores. I am passing my time by MONITORING EXPLICIT CHATROOMS! LISTENING TO MGMT! I am actually writing on my livejournal and listening to Radams. I figured I'd try to inject some excitement into my life just then/ make you guys think that I have not been doing the exact same thing all my life, but SIGH I suck at fabricating.

I guess the most interesting thing about this post is that it indicates that I am OUT OF THE HOSPITAL! which has been the case for the last week or so and is actually pretty mega exciting. My time has been filled with partying with jorrocks/lamby, making sweet collages, yelling at masterchef and having a cold. REAL EXCITING HEY? I did go to see Anneke's AMAZING BAND on Friday. I am always super shocked when one of my friends bands actually turns out to be so fucking good but hey! There you go! Why I expected anything else from a band that Anneke and Alex are in is stupid on my part.

Yeah, so hospital. It was okay. I felt like my anxiety was maybe worse when I left than when I went in. I am on all sorts of meds now that make me trip balls and wake Sean up to ask him if he has a little sister? I had a lot of therapy based on letting things from the past go and allowing myself to grieve for them, which is actually pretty scary and makes me think that I will never be able to write anything again. You need longing and hate and weird feelings that sometimes make you vomit for no reason. You can't be creative and interesting if you only tell stories about the really fluffy bathrobe you are wearing right now and your boyfriend whom with you share sweaters and who just walked back in from the rainy world and shops with pumpkin soup and diet lemonade for you to eat in front of your favourite sunday night crime tv. It makes for far less tortured living, which I suppose is the outcome I was meant to be searching for, but whatever, I'm not sure if I will ever be 100% okay. And I think maybe that is okay.

Meadowlake Street came on the music machine just then and reminded me of when Sean and got a little high and he thought that maybe it was the most important piece of music in history and I thought there was a part of your body called The Panic Head. I reckon at least my call was legit.

I have has some amazing opshop finds this week. I have also been reading James and the Giant Peach but it started to really honestly scare me, so now I am reading Matilda, which is much better. Okay. That is all. I thought I might have had some epic journal posting in me tonight, but it seems not. Here are some photos of me with the greatest people on planet earth, just in case you wanted to see them.

FYI: I was dressed like Amy Winehouse on this evening for no real reason, and I spilt my tiny faux leather dress down the back when I was buying gin, so I had to get gaffer taped up the back to get through this whole night. I think it actually worked out pretty well for my trashwhore theme.

Hi! Television ate my brains!

Helloco internet!
Remember when I used to be able to write? I really knew what words meant and could rattle on for quite a while and even talk to crowds about my work/ oceans/ fairy lights/ other things I thought were important. I kinda suck at that now. I really do think education is seeping out of my ears/ I should stop dying my hair. My biggest interest right now is television and my second biggest interest is probably how many pairs of pyjamas I own. Sorry about that, especially after my last post which was all like OMG LIFE! WORDS! CUT-OFF JEANS!, which are all still great things, I am probably just tired out today and therefore prone to a whinge/ loudly discussing my shortcomings with my blog.

Tomorrow I am going back to hospital FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME. This is no longer new news to you! Here is what hospital means to me: napping, Oprah, something resembling a routine everyday, being able to turn the airconditioning up to 30 degrees in my room, YAHTZEE!, losing weight due to eating only salad and lentils (score!), going to relaxation classes but spending the whole time either falling asleep and drooling in front of people, or dreaming about how much I REALLY WANT CAKE (everyone brings you (vegan love heart shaped) cakes the first time you are in hospital, but it turns out that is the only time). Also a lot of older patients telling me that 'their daughter dresses just like me but she is moody and listens to music that makes me deaf' and 'oh! You probably know each other.' I guess there is a 'getting better' part in there too.

What else? I fractured my hand a couple of weeks ago! it is no longer blue though, and I did it running with excitement to get some freshly popped toast and falling down, so there is really not anything interesting about that. I have been watching a lot of TV this week? Sean and Holly and I got cute matching colds and can't be bothered standing up. Hercules missed out but he is hella tough so I am not surprised. I like Masterchef again. I swore it would only be a one season affair. Today I watched Precious, which DID NOT MAKE ME CRY AT ALL. It only made me want to do a step by step review on my blog ala Soda. Also Fantastic Mr. Fox FINALLY, which is the best thing I have seen in forever, except UP!. I just wanted to smoosh those fluffy tails and stroke those faces. Holly copped the end of that emotion.

Anyway, I don't feel very well today. I feel strange about my family and also about being touched, and I have eaten like, 4 sandwiches. I can't stop twitching. My neurosurgeon has no idea what the lump in my head is. My Grandma got her heart valve replaced with a pig's valve after fainting in a shopping centre, which I have seen on T.V before. It makes me feel very soft towards her, even though she lives pretty far away. She wrote me for the first time ever about 2 weeks before she fell. It was kind of strange because we have never been really close, but I got quite moved as well. I wrote back the next week and have been constantly worried that this sudden correspondence possibly caused her to collapse.

I think I hear owls outside, but also the lady who lives above us is pretty obsessive about cleaning, to the point where it keeps us awake, so maybe it is just her cleaning her mirror over and over. Last week I accosted her when she was getting out of a taxi and we were drinking straight from a wine bottle waiting for one. We had never actually met before. I said 'I AM THE ONE WITH THE RABBIT OUTSIDE!' She said she knew.

Anyway, I have been meaning to tell you guys about an exhibition that is on at Little Creatures at the moment that I am in. the whole show raises money for the RSPCA, with artists effectively donating their work. I was really happy with my piece and was also so, so hoping that it sold so that i could feel like I'd made a contribution to maybe my favourite charity. I found out yesterday that it had in fact sold. I am going to show you anyway!

I was thinking that I could commission small drawings / zines / photographs / text based works to people I know for $5 or $10 each and donate the money to the RSPCA at the end of each month. I really feel bad that I do not do as much work for organizations as I used to. I really don't like the feeling of my life being just about me. If you are interested in this or know anyone who might be please let me know! It would help me to start using my brain again and help animals who have been at the hands of pretty unhelpful humans prior to finding sanctuary.

Anyway dudes, I'm out of The Mountain! See you when I return, hopefully more mentally balanced. xx

Some hospital revelations (nightimes are long and loud)

My name is Kate-Anna, although when I was in school people called me Kate. My parents hardly ever called me Kate, more things like Katie and Katie-A, and when I was being yelled at I got called Kate, but only then. When I left high school I went back to being called Kate Anna, and added a hyphen for eases sake. When people call me Kate I get remarkably uncomfortable because it reminds me of being super scared of my Dad. I was thinking of adding a hyphen by deed poll, which I hear is actually pretty easy to do. My dad is one of the most comforting sources in my life now, and I am exactly like him in hobbies, stature, nature and passionate loves (lonely country music, political writing, animals, good cooking, football, family and talking).

I am a vegan which I don't really like to mention to people who I immediately meet. I cook meat for Sean and for my Mum because I love them, but I can't help but say little prayers when I do. The way animals are farmed makes me cry, but for me, I think, the real true and whole reason I cannot eat animals is because of their intellect, compassion and eyes. When an animal is ugly or small and without much but instinct, I think about their lungs. What other people eat does not really bother me. When someone will not even take the time to understand what meat actually is, and the process of killing an animal to get it, I can not help but get upset however. When wild animals eat each other in documentaries, usually about Africa, I do not get sad.

I like Hello Kitty and love hearts and I like tattoos and I like punk music and big dorky glasses and I like black clothes, band teeshirts and black lace-up canvas sneakers. i like hoodies and dying my hair black and I really like leopard print and ripped tights and getting sweaty in moshpits at shows. I like lip rings. When I was young I always thought I would grow up to like only this stuff, because when you are fifteen you never realize that one day you might start thinking that other people might see you as uncool and you might start liking floral dresses, designer handbags, highheels, lipstick and Tiffany & Co. You don't realize once that is happening, however that one day you will fall in love with an amazing dude dancing to some song at some alleyway club and he will buy you brooches and live with you and he will love you in a moshpit wearing cutoffs, or at some exhibition kicking around with bright red nails and sky high heels. It turns out that he will love you in pyjamas too and that he won't mind when you get so sad you cannot get off the couch, or that you seem incapable of realizing that the entire house is not a wardrobe, and who will sit at your bedside in three different hospitals and sometimes sleep there so that you don't have a massive anxiety attack about being alone.

Now I realize what is fake and what is real about all of those things, and that I would rather wear shitty cheap clothes and be able to do cartwheels in them at the park or on the dancefloor than look really great all the time, just to impress people that I think I should impress.I still like dresses and jewels and bags, but somersaults are way more important than Marc Jacobs.  I realize the only people that I truly want to impress are my best friends because they will hang out with me if I am not wearing make up or a dress and they don't always need me to have a champagne flute in my hand in order to find me entertaining. I went through a period of time when the music and pashing and fashion scenes intoxicated me so much that I thought I could find real friends there. I found a couple of treasures, who I love for sure but I looked all over and so hard and persistently and in the end, I was trying to be this person worthy of popular people's time. It was like school, but worse and far more bitchy and heartbreaking. My stupidity in only so recently working out that those friends had been around all along makes me blush. They know my whole story and I have slept on their loungeroom floors. They never left even though I had gone in pursuit of something I thought might be better, And they did not see me as being fat, or sad about boys, or unfashionable and trying to hard, or being loud and drunk and memorable for it. They saw me for being me, straight up and down. They saw this kid who likes punk stuff, and pointless adventures at midnight and hello kitty and music ACTUALLYSOMUCHITHURTS and who dances in the loungeroom at lunchtime and eats whole bags of skittles and climbs impossible trees and makes them pose for a million photos. I know that tense is a little messed up, but I think you get my point.

This year has been awful. I'm sure there will be some more awful bits. I can't sleep at night without drugs, I can't really do anything without a thousand chemicals. But do you know what? For the first time maybe ever, I have worked out that I do have people who care for me and who I love so much it is kind of hard to tell the internet.These people can call me Kate and I don't even care. I am working out who I am and where I stand and that nothing at all sucks about being the kid in sneakers and the Jebediah teeshirt (right now), and nothing sucks about hanging out with the same people for ten years and it actually doesn't suck being clumsy and directionless sometimes because there are so many things I want to do. Not knowing is scary but it is okay. Having chipped teeth and reading uncool books is okay too! It is okay that I kick around every day in $15 sneakers and a handful of Tiffany rings. Being a vegan and a political freak and a fiery arguer and  a sensitive person is okay too. It is important to have opinions and traits, even if they conflict and make you fragile and even if you can't make everyone happy, which I cry about sometimes. Eating food is okay, and so is being fatter than I was last summer. IT IS OKAY. I AM OKAY!

My intention coming into this post was going to be all HAI GUYS! And to let you know that I am bouncing around between being in and out of hospital, but some other thoughts got in my way after I took my midnight meds and read a story about best friends and a telephone booth in Vegas, and a superhero called Fox. I'm sorry about that. but feeling actually good comes pretty sparingly for me, and so does the notion that I am the luckiest person on earth to have a family, including all you dorks who still wanna do hand stands and laugh about the get up kids with me. It is also strange that I am planless, workless and not really scared. I'm going to get off the internet and write a list, under the covers so Sean can get some sleep, of things that I have not done but have meant to because of time. Time terrorizes me, so I may as well totally own it's ass.
I hope you see some sun today. x


Dear Lifejournal,
Today I really wanted to update you about a lot of things.
One was my weekend which gave me huge smiles, mainly on account of Anneke who is great at hugs even if it is 2am and I am forcing her to listen to me sing the whole B*Witched singles backcatalog whilst not getting out of her bed.
One other thing was about how I finally finished my drawing of a solar kitten moon for the RSPCA show at Little Creatures which is on pretty soon and about how I am working on some things with said Anneke for a show in a few months which I hope will be feathery and MYSTICAL, and I will become like Conor Oberst writing Cassadaga.
One other thing was that the words ' Transylvanian Accidentally Announcement' are saved as a word document on my computer and I do not remember why, although I quite like them all in a row like that. Also that I watched the Toy Story 3 trailer this morning and I was totally correct about the premise of the film, and got goosebumps watching it. Yup, I am that into Toy Story.
I would have probably updated about how much I hate doctors and how scared I am about being sick, when I really wasn't before and about how wearing sneakers is really great and I wished I never stopped doing it to try and look sexier which basically just resulted in my breaking the same toe about 3 times. I might have even talked about the morality of stealing dated magazines from waiting rooms and whether it is okay if you know you will get so much more use out of said magazine than any other crazies or if you replace it with a new copy of something else.
Also I would have talked about my pets, and how angry a pro-life website made me last night that I vomited in my mouth a bit and think that I could make a really good lobbyist.
BUT you are safe lifejournal because you do not have to hear about these things because I am going back to hospital in a couple of hours, for a bunch of intensive mental treatment and I am really afraid.
I'll see you on the other side.
Love, K-A x

LIFE, now with pictures so you don't get as bored.

Hello Lifejournal,
I wanted to tell you about my weekend as it was actually really good and I did not feel sad for ONE MOMENT. Which is pretty unnatural because I think alot about things like pets with no homes, people with no homes, old people who are not sassy and have to eat their meals alone etc.
I will give you a pictorial tour kind of.
On Friday I went to see Collingwood play which is the event I most anticipate all year. I have never seen Collingwood lose, so I was nervous and also unsure how I would emotionally cope if we were not totally awesome. Turns out we were sitting front row behind the goals, we met Joffa, we drank free beers and we had a total love in with bogan strangers at the end, when we pummeled Fremantle. I am pretty sure most you you skipped this paragraph/ sat seething in anger and thinking about how I have chipped teeth. Here is something to recapture your attention/ enrage you further.


On Saturday Emma and I were basically geniuses and invented a game called ginopoly, where the premise is you drink a bottle of gin and play monopoly while Sean cooks you pizzas. The game is alot more complex than it sounds, trust us. I also met Emma's mum, so I am pretty sure we are in a serious relationship now. Then some more things happened and I ended up dancing to Justin Beiber at The Court. DO NOT DENY THE BEIBER FEVER!
Somewhere in there also I got really excited about applying for university next year so I went looking for a backpack. I did come home with a backpack covered in kittens, but also a kitten snow hat and a kitten purse, and Sean decided I am not allowed to go shopping for serious things on my own again.


Yesterday was International Vegan Waffle Day, which sounds like a bit of a scam but a scam I am so totally Okay with. Anneke and Alex and I went and ate vegan waffles, which soon turned into me buying $50 worth of vegan junkfood (HOLY SHIT VEGAN MARS BAR ALL OF MY PROBLEMS ARE SOLVED.). This soon turned into a 30 Rock bed party, which then turned into a really long gin session involving us, Natalia and Carl and a Drinking Darts board. When Alex and I removed ourselves from the social group to sing along to Get Up Kids songs in the corner I decided it was time to go home.


Today my Dad is coming over to deliver me some really great things like the new Dave Rawlings record he bought me and Breaking Bad Season 3 and National Geographic. We will then eat burgers as we are now BFFS. Anyone who was reading my lifejournal when I was about 16 would realise this is totally insane. I am really putting off thinking about the rest of this week as it basically involves brainscans, tests, doctors and decisions. I am really bad at all of these things. The reality of being sick has maybe only just hit me? BLAH.
WELL DONE, AGAIN IF YOU GOT THIS FAR. This post was entirely self indulgent and you didn't really learn anything except that Collingwood rule.
Love, Kate-Anna x
OH P.S  The new Hold Steady album rulz and our copies on vinyl arrived on Saturday and now I am not sure if we will leave the house again. Also Craig Finn And Tad Kubler were on The Colbert Report and I didn't die from over excitement. ACHIEVEMENT! 

Learning to Love You More.

Assignment #11

Photograph a scar and write about it.
I have a bunch of scars, as I am innately clumsy but this is the first one that I remember getting. I was 4 years old, and at school in Melbourne. I was eating lunch with my friend whose name I don't remember from my favourite 'Australia' lunchbox. It was a really hot day and the school gardener came around to the lunch area and asked who wanted to be sprayed with the hose. (This in retrospect is so totally creepy.) Anyways, I was like WOO! HOSE! And ran off, asking nameless friend to look after my lunchbox (which she TOTALLY didn't, evil friend). I was super excited and sprinted off down a giant gravel hill to the gardener, neglecting to realise it was WET GRAVEL and stacked it, scrapping allll the skin off of my knee. Mum was working in the canteen, so I ran to her crying and she gave me an icey pole and also a bag of gummy bears and I got to go home from school early and watch T.V, so lunchbox loss aside, the whole thing was pretty O.K.

Assignment #55

Photograph a significant outfit.

I was wearing this on the day I found out that I had a brain tumour.