Lo and behold, I had a total of twenty three, yus, 23 moderated requests from random people across the intertubes asking me for a Google Wave invitation.

PLEASE READ THIS NEXT SENTENCE CAREFULLY BEFORE LEAVING A COMMENT.

I don’t have any Google Wave invitations to give away. Please don’t ask. If I do acquire one, I will happily help people out.

Please don’t make me feel sadder or even more left out than I do at the moment. I have no bananas or Google Wave love to give.

Thanks.

Instead the one hundred and forty characters get stretched to over one thousand. Every Web 2.0 entrepreneurial type, podcaster, former postman and social media coke snorter is waiting for a paragraph about how AWESOME Google Wave is.

Well, uhhh, sorry to disappoint you but I HAVEN’T GOT A BLOODY GOOGLE WAVE INVITE YET. So nyerr. (that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love one)

I spent time trying to make a mixtape last night. You remember mixtapes, right? TDK D90 audio cassette in a twenty year old double deck cassette recorder hooked up to an equally ancient amp fed into the Macbook.

Real girls use cassettes to make crazy mixtapes for blokes they reckon are “pretty bloody alright, yaknowhattumsayin’”.

Trying to figure out whether the bloke has a cassette player himself is a different kettle of barramundi altogether.

There’s something quite special about making mixtapes and then listening to the final product. I was brought up on wow and flutter, jumpy vinyl, half chewed cassettes recovered from a feral National Panasonic ghetto blaster from 1985.

Sadly mixtape making has been a bit of a cursed affair as well. I’ve had blokes throw my cassettes on the ground and step on them. Crushed the magnetic ribbon, crushed the creativity and crushed my heart to pieces. TDK didn’t get the chance to do amazing things to any of their systems.

Is this why all the cool kids now make mp3 mixtapes instead? Uncrushable just deletable.

So, fellas, tell me, if some chick made a mixtape for you as a way of saying “you’re an alright sort of guy, let’s hang out sometime”, would you dig that or find it to be childish?

Hit me up with a comment. I’m curious to know what you think.

• a DJ (ever since my bestie passed away, I haven’t been able to find the strength to get behind the decks and make people dance
• a camgirl (it was at a time when everything/nothing sites were cool and I thought it’d be fun to say “Hey, vacuous Internet bitches, FUCK YOU!)
• a radio show host (those were the best seven years of my life. Being able to share my love of music and talk random babble about life gave me the biggest buzz. I miss those days so much)
• a photographer (there was a time when I photographed derilect buildings and street art. Now my camera gathers dust on a shelf. Lack of inspiration and passion to capture the colourful derilect world around me)
• happy (I have little to smile about in my life these days. You once couldn’t wipe the dopey grin off my face because I was with someone who loved me, I was in a job I adored and I actually felt like I fitted in)

now am

• single and lonely (when the Low Self Esteem Fairy dusted my plump self in Low Self Esteem fairy dust, it stuck. While what very few real life friends are busy with their boyfriends, I’m fighting off the black dog that’s mauled my face)
• inarticulate (words fail me on a daily basis. I’m finding that even the simplest of sentences come out of my fat gob all jumbled up. My job involves me talking to more than one hundred people a day and I’m finding it difficult to even strike up a conversation with them.)
• exhausted (when people ask me how I am, I tell them that I’m “surviving” and then try to find some way of getting out of a conversation about my life. I feel like I’m stuck in my own private version of the film “Groundhog Day”. The customers get crankier by the day, the routine drives me to hit the hay at crazy hours and my dreams are filled with people taking me away from all that’s going on. The truth is, there is no escape)
• a blogger and tweeter (I feel as if the only people who understand me are my Twitter friends. That and the two readers of this blog)
• hopeful (perhaps things will change one day but I’m not holding my breath. Sometimes the only thing that cures misery is a smidgeon of understanding.)

We could’ve had such a BEAUTIFUL life together. It’s such a shame you sold out, went whirlygig around the world, found some random, fell in lurve and then became just another suburban drone.

Well, bub, for 32 years of age, I’m still kickin’ it, sorting out tickets to Sensation NYE, going to be an absolute kinderwhore with the blonde piggytails and white Dunlop Volleys on the dancefloor.

So….uhhh….tell me, sunshine…..what have YOU done with yourself lately?

INTRODUCING KITTY THE MACBOOK

I made the switch over to a shiny new white Macbook last Sunday. One week in to using this darling machine, I am beyond happy with it. She’s an absolute beauty and puts my poor old Asus laptop (otherwise known as The Windows Craptop) to shame.

I haven’t properly used a Mac since my uni days back in 1997 and  I’m kicking myself for not jumping on the bandwagon back then. I’m still trying to get the hang of a few things – namely keyboard shortcuts and the whole diskimage install/drag to the trash business but overall, I’m loving how easy and userfriendly Mac OS X is. I can’t wait to get my mitts on Snow Leopard.

BAD (EX) BOYFRIEND

Yet another relationship gone down the toilet and it’s made me even more cynical than before. I would honestly love to sit and write a dozen paragraphs about failed relationships but meh…

To all my darling male readers, if you’re going to end a relationship, please don’t do it via voicemail mesage. It’s not cool. It’s actually quite cowardly and you’ve demonstrated that you lack a set of testicles.

I’ve got no time for cowards or guys who think that’s it’s all well and good to use a person and then dump them like a sack of shit. Grow up, grow some balls and DO NOT cross my path if I’ve had a little too much rakija because I’ll get all northside rhymes on your arse.

SOMETHING TO CHEW ON

Do any of you out there have a fear of being alone, even though you class yourself as a loner? I’ve been personally pondering this very thought for a while.  I’ve spent the majority of my life in an alone type state (i.e: only child, very few friends, socially awkward….the list goes on…). I’m used to being a loner but my biggest fear is spending the rest of my life alone. The majority of  folk in my real and virtual social circles are partnered up with and without kids.

At almost 32 years of age, I feel like my use by date has well and truly gone. With strands of grey hair becoming more and more visible, laugh lines with dreaded crows feet and a body that is reminiscent of a badly drawn cartoon character, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will probably spend the rest of my life as a loner.

It honestly depresses and scares the living daylights out of me. Above all, it hurts…

Some things are best left unspoken in a positive way. Who needs words when there’s a bassline calling your name?

• Microsoft Windows 7 Release Candidate – I decided to take the plunge and install the latest Release Candidate version of Microsoft Windows 7 on my trusty dusty craptop after having read numerous writeups about it over at Lifehacker. Eyecandy wise, it gets the big thumbs up. Performance wise, it runs a lot smoother than Windows Vista. Multimedia wise, my USB TV Tuner dongle actually works straight out of the box without any pissfarting around with other software. Overall, Windows 7 is a HUGE improvement over Vista (which was an operating system debacle). It’s nice of Microsoft to allow the regular Joe or Joanne Geek to be able to test-drive the latest addition to the Windows family in the real world. It is, however, a bit of a shame that Microsoft did nothing more than slightly tart up what has always been a dog of an operating system, IMNSHO.

• Hiatus – I’m taking some much needed time off from Twitter. With all that has happened over the last couple of weeks, a month off will no doubt be enough time to sit back on the sidelines and watch the world go by…one tweet at a time. To be honest, Twitter stopped being fun for me and if it’s no longer fun, I’ll just walk away. Perhaps I’ve just missed the point or something but hey, it’s only a social network, fer Pete’s sake. I’m not entirely sure if I’ll be attending the next @MTUB event. I have an uncanny fear that I’ll end up sitting on my own, in a corner for a while because I’m lousy at mingling and heck, I’m, well, you know…..@melbournegirl. I’ll be returning to Twitter some time in June. Feel free to follow me on Friendfeed or send an email my way. I don’t bite…

• Everything else - In between the madness that is the beloved dayjob, I’ve been following Angus Kidman’s rather awesome Hand Luggage Only adventures. One piece of carry-on luggage and a smattering of Australian locations to be visited. Hardcore geek roadtrip to the max! In the coming days/weeks, melbournegirl.net will be going under the knife. The blogroll will be gutted, the theme will be chopped to bits and all the other rubbish will be archived. You have been warned!

On a final and very personal note, a big thanks has to go out to a couple of very special people out there (who will remain anonymous out of respect) who have helped me through the last few days. Here’s to yet another HUGE eff-off weekend of actually living that thing called LIFE!

I’m lousy at writing letters these days because there’s not a lot going on in my life that would excite you or the next person who perused this. I’d love to blame my day job for sapping all the creativity out of me but I can’t. I’m armed to the hilt with two Moleskine notebooks and a packet of Post-It notes for all the times that I do feel like drawing or writing.

I’m confused, Friend. I’m confused by what is going on right now in my life. I know I keep babbling about some muse in my weblog and well, I’m sure you’re tired of reading about it but right now I just feel like I’m going to hear the all too familiar badoom tish and some whacked out punchline is gonna hit me in the throat. I suppose I’m too used to being the butt of everyone’s jokes because I walk funny, have a lazy eye and well, to be quite blunt, can’t afford ten grand to make myself look something like an actual human being.

Yeah, I know, you’re going to tell me off for having self esteem that is lower than sea level. I’d love to throw an apology your way and nonchalantly laugh off what I just wrote but it doesn’t work that way in my head. Perhaps you should tell me off for writing really stupid insomnia fuelled letters to you.

Even though I am feeling confused to the hilt and probably should be writing about some new fandangled piece of technology that’s going to make our lives so much better, all I am able to do is write a dull letter to you. I’d jot this down on paper and hand it over to you, if I ever found the courage to do so.

I’m sure I’ve bored you beyond rhyme and reason with this letter by now. I’ve got so much to say but brevity is biting me on the arse, so I’ll have to cut it short.

I saw a star shining outside my window tonight. I closed my eyes and made a wish. Buckley’s of it actually coming true but that doesn’t mean that I have to totally give up.

I’m not expecting a reply to this garbled heap of junk I’ve tapped out on my craptop laptop. If you receive this letter, be gentle with it.

Yours in total and utter insomnia,

- m

P.S: The sleepy Headsetcat is all mine. I told you I was always armed with Post-It notes.

You doubt he’d even read this. Whoop! Close call. Don’t talk about the dream you had about him, girl. Sha-sha-shut your mouth. The mix CD is all ready to go. Sha-sha-shut your mouth. He’s a one in a million with a writing style that makes you wa-wa-weak at the knees. Poetry in motion and the quirkiest spelling.

Did you just think that out aloud? You’re too foo-foo-full on, girl. If only he could see what you’re wri-wri-writing.

It’s been 14 years since you’ve felt like this but in reality, you know it’ll just blow up in your carwreck of a face.

Sleep. Dream and don’t sweat it. Or hide. It’s only happiness …whatever that is.

It took a handful of messages on WhosHere – a proximity based social networking application available on the iPhone, a handful of Twitter direct messages and now I find myself thrown head first into a secondary web project that’s more about being “happy and content”.

Its all too confusing, this whole “happy” thing, this whole “focus and move forward” thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s damn AWESOME but for crying out loud, I feel out of sorts.

Appetite is shot, attention span is actually longer than it usually is and I’m a lot more focussed than ever before.

It’s all a little too scary. What to do?