Why I just may out po-mo* you all!

I have been in a crisis of augmented existence: My two worlds seemingly transposed, so that during the last 6 weeks where I have been without a home, so too, have I been without a home(page)...This posting obviously indicates a happy ending in both the virtual and real worlds...


What this retracted online presence may have done for the marginal perusals i may have once accumulated, i must accept...i may now resort to desperate BP like measures in order to direct through some traffic via google...


Though, arguably, I was in such a state of shoe gazing, wistful crisis, the one thing I may credit myself for is willful restraint from using any such social networking site to articulate my internal dilemmas.. 

I read recently with great amusement over the furore caused - from some protest, or fundraiser...or street fight - when people were accused of being grossly offensive by making the statement of adorning themselves in the attire of a homeless person.


You know, that whole bum thing scarecrow like stuffing of mismatched shirts; some - gasp! - worker pants (but for the purpose of the character, I am sure that these brave pioneers acting in the name of the un-resident-ed would have ripped a couple of token holes around the knees for added measure)..


So then, I guess if this is the seasonal look of the homeless, I may just have been considered, haute couture...


What? An audible gasp (wtf? i thought i was on myspace!?) This precious lil postgrad wants to clutch at the poverty chic of the uni days (mi goreng noodles resulted in an ulcer)  by identifying as homeless...


..."Well, try harder, you upper middle-class scum, you!!" You are thinking as you prepare to pound out an anonymous comment to that effect.


Obviously someone had a more enriching study plan for their HSC, not having to add "Life Management" to their timetables...Because, in fact, one may be "homeless" according to its scale that measures the varying degrees, with #1 = sleeping on the street and #10 = an extensive hotel stay****


And whilst I (thankfully, blessedly) was not on category 1 terms, but when it gets to the stage where you are taken for a drunk dickhead from a land that boasts a better economy and you are staying in a skanky arse Backpackers in Bondi, you are probably not having dinner parties...


Actually, the one fun part was pretending to be a tourist from an assortment of different countries, and for the first time in my life (except when I was in France) I was accepted as a frog! Quel dommage!


Not to mention the slightly dubious insinuation by an ex-cop from oppressed Fiji, now acting as a caretaker for some serviced apartments in Drummoyne that I could come and stay "anytime..we could, you know, work something out.."


That'd be right, the girl known around the UTS Radio Journalism class as "Rent for Sex Girl" (long story, even for me, my dignity remains intact though), could well have been propositioned for a similar type of deal...


Though imagine the awkwardness of settling the bill had we, indeed, got our wires crossed...


*Unnecessary to define to all those who are "true", but this means postmodernism; as in pomo-mofo**


**Unnecessary to define to anyone


***This is a completely inaccurate representation of the scale