Having a boyfriend who's so thin makes me want to cry. Or stop eating for a week. Or stick my fingers down my throat.
Whatever works.
Because I'm scared he'll judge me like I judge myself; that even though he likes me it won't be enough just because I'm not that pretty and my body isn't that great either and I'm scared that he'll realise I'm not so hot and not someone he wants to be seen with (which he doesn't anyway by his relatives and the like but that's for a perfectly justifiable reason aka although he's 18 he's not allowed to date and would be shot if he was found to), and he will stop liking me.
It is so much easier to be confident when we were just friends with benefits coz damn, I knew he wouldn't kiss me if he didn't find me attractive. And I know it makes no sense as to why he would lose that now that we're a couple, but I've never been one to work by logic, even at the best of times.
I hate that I care so much. But this relationship has been a long long time coming, even though I never thought it actually would, and I want it to last for a long, long time too...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
"What in the world's come over me?"
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
And my mother told me "It's no use crying over spilt milk"
Actually, what she said was more along the lines of "You're going to spill that milk."
"... [smug look]"
"You think you're so smart."
"... [smug look]"
"You'll see."
And less than ten seconds later, I did indeed see.
Last night I was drinking milk whilst using the laptop. Of course, being
ingenious, as I am, I was holding the cup between my teeth [look, no hands!], prompting my mother to issue her dire predictions.
Whaddyaknow. It fell. All over the laptop, over the lounge I was sitting on, on the floor, on my pants (yes, those ones >.<), on my hoodie, in my hair, over my face. EVERYWHERE. My mother was not amused. Needless to say, I was, although also somewhat abashed...
Shoulda taken a picture.
"And Cinderella Lost her Shoe", bringing you Toivoa's extremely uncoordinated moments (or epic fails) online since October 2008 (although under several different names). All events created and enacted by Toivoa, who's simply been bringing them, since 1992.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Midnight Munchies Attaaaack!
So maybe I've been watching far too many episodes of Pokemon and Digimon online recently thanks to Surf the Channel and it's way past midnight (2.08AM), but that's neither here nor there. I'm so... hungry. I crave something, but I don't know what. See, usually, when I'm up late and get the Midnight (and onward) Munchies, which we'll abbreviate to the M&M's coz I'm cool like that, it is Doritos that I desire.
Not this time. Well thank God because we currently have none in the house, I guess they haven't been on special lately, but the problem is that I don't even know what I want. I crave something, but nothing comes to mind. What specific taste is it that I need..? We have Fanta, which is great, but I can't drink it since it's not even supposed to have been opened yet... The only cookies we have are too sweet and painfully crunchy. We have no chips. Yeah that's about it.
Chris will be away from school for another week. I talked to him for the first time in over a week on MSN on Saturday night, but not for very long since he had to leave for dinner. He had his tonsils removed so he hasn't been at school, and since my phone is broken he can't get in contact with me. We're also both barely on MSN. I just... expected to miss him more. Now that I've talked to him, I do, I think. I want to talk to him properly, on the phone, or something. Not likely until I can somehow get my home number to him since he keeps forgetting to save it. I'm paranoid that he is getting over me like I always do with other people.
I miss the ex best friend. I miss the others. I miss Jimit. And Justin. And sleep.
I want new clothes. I want to watch the Jetsons and further episodes of How I Met Your Mother. I want a sleepover and a night in town. I want the movie drinking night I planned with my best friend Nick where we watch our favourite movies and have lightsaber fights coz we're into Star Wars since we're such cool kids; and hang out and drink together (because that other time does not count and we've agreed never to mention it again). I want to drink champagne with My Mofo's friend DJ and on the other hand do girly stuff; I want DnM's with a girl who will tell me what I need to hear and I want to skip lessons to sit outside KFC in the morning waiting for the chip shop to open, and go to the shops after school rather than straight home; I want a friend to walk home with no matter how much I love my sister, and good friends to hang out with in frees, not people that honestly I hardly talk to.
And damnit I want to know what munchies I crave and I want to eat them! OM NOM NOM (damnit Jake, looks like you won me over in that argument...)
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Let's be clear about this.
I will never hurt myself again.
That is a fact.
I don't want to, and I can't.
In all that I did, I lost the two most precious people ever. I want to make this clear, if I haven't before. This whole friends thing; it wasn't their fault. It was never their fault and if I implied that at all, that is not what I meant. They are amazing people, and amazing friends. I'm not mad at them, I never was. I'm mad at the situation, at myself for causing it, even though the exact things that set it off I'm still unsure about. And oh god I still do the same thing, I just realised. I just stop talking to people because I get moody. Do I learn anything???
I've learned some self respect, at least. Even when at times I feel so, so lost.
And if this is over forever, that's my fault too. I was too scared to talk to them for so long, that when I did try, maybe then it was already too late. And now, oh my god. It's been so long. Too long? Even though I know nothing will ever probably fix this, I still want to. So much. Sometimes I want to give up and forget and just. stop. Just hurt myself as much as possible so that nothing else matters anymore. But I am never ever doing that again. It's destructive to more than myself. I'm sick of hurting other people and ruining friendships. I'm so fucking selfish, and I hatehatehate it.
I want to start over somewhere else, I've wanted to move schools. Every class, every time I see them makes me choke on how much I miss them because of what I've done. That may be the one thing I can never forgive myself for. I hope they never forgive me for it either.
I could have been a better friend to them, like they were to me. I think it was when it came to myself that I fucked everything up. I don't want any of that "they're the ones missing out" crap, because, no, it is not their fault. They don't deserve anyone to think less of them for it, especially if you don't know them. They are fucking amazing and gorgeous and it was me who lost through my own fault.
You know what, I want to be innocent again. As innocent as I used to be. I ruined that too. I never learn from my mistakes, do I? I'm fucking ridiculous at times.
But I will never ever ever ever self harm again. I am so done with that.
EDIT: I still try to imagine what it would be like if we did try to work things out. Would it just... not happen? Even if we tried? It would be strange, and awkward. Would we have anything to talk about? I don't know.
I should probably do some homework. I'm behind and god how am I going to pass this year? German, especially. And Biology. And Maths. English and Classical Studies are the only two things I think I can do well in, and I'm still behind in English... Ugh.
EDIT: I think the whole eating all the time thing is kinda better now. It's back to normalish, still a bit too much junk food but I'm working on that. Although I think if I have to eat any more carrot or cucumber I might shoot myself in the head. If I had a gun and all. I haven't talked to Chris in over a week. I've practically forgotten what he's like. I'm sure it will be fine when I see him again...
Monday, March 23, 2009
"If I'd have known what you would say, I'd have turned and walked away"
I practically single-handedly express all the teen angst that is tolerable in the world. Time to stop being pathetic, Toivoa.
I am resuming my job hunt, although I don't know what good it will do, considering how completely unsuccessful it was before. But cross your fingers for me. I just want a part time job!
I'm dying without my phone here, kay? ;P
And God knows I need money for everything, our canteen is so expensive, and how else will I support local business in our financial crisis? That cafe really needs my business! And I really need their $4 Mochas! That's in Large, so that's really good... Mmm. It's been like, a week. Since my little caffeine scare. I'd link it, but I really am too lazy at the moment.
I remember the days when we'd go to the shops for a bag of fries I'd share with my best friend. Just like now, the lady at the counter would know our order, but that was a lot more embarrassing. And yet, my Mocha just isn't as much fun as wagging school to wait outside K.F.C., further away from the school, till the chip shop would open; and then stuff our faces with the most unhealthy, most delicious chips... Yes, that's right, we would actually wait for the shop to open. We couldn't go to school until we'd been, so we had to wait... From around 9 till 10.
I miss those conversations about everything. I miss having a best friend like that.
This became about them, one of them at least, again. I'm sorry.
So sorry.
And I mean that on more than one level, to more than just one group of people.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
No hope, no love, no glory
Why, why, why, does such a depressing song have such a misleading title? "Happy Ending", by Mika, I mean. Mika's songs, for the most part, seem to be overly bright and cheerful (or at least annoying beyond belief e.g. Lollipop). Case in point - Love Today. Not that I listen to Mika. Much.
I fell in love with this song the first time I heard it, and I still am. But come on, I listen to enough "emo", and depressing music as it is. Really.
The music to Happy Ending even sounds pretty chill. Not necessarily upbeat, but peaceful, relaxing. It's the lyrics that bring it down. Way down. I actually almost feel like crying every time I hear this song. But I still love it, damnit. I understand when I associate songs with memories that were good and now, circumstances having changed, make me sad and nostalgic. Or songs which I can identify with about bad / sad things. But this song is just gloomy and makes me sad. For no reason. And yet, I can't stop listening to it. On repeat. Far too regularly, too. Sigh.
As such, for the moment I'm rather pensive. Bear with me.
Tomorrow is Sunday. A morning filled with church, while I do my best to pay attention. I haven't had to try as hard to keep myself awake during the service so much lately; perhaps my naps during English Studies are taking care of that. Not that I'm too fussed about missing out on the worship. I need to try and find out what the music is for the second service, since I am supposed to be playing. I'm as highly enthused about that task as ever. Afternoon has been delegated with homework, since I neglected that terribly today. Year Twelve is going fantastically so far [/sarcasm].
Late afternoon is back to church for Bible Study. fjlkdjgpkfldjgflfd. Keyboard mashing actually is a very good way of expression emotions of frustration, anger, or distress. So over Bible Study. I don't care! Then, maybe to another church for their evening service so I can hang out with some of my friends from that week of community service I did towards the end of the Christmas Holidays. Speaking of which, I cannot wait to donate blood again! There's still another month and a half to go, but.
Oh and of course I'm heaps keen to actually be present for the service there and all...
Actually, I kinda am (no sarcasm here). Really.
I was talking to Nick on Thursday, or Friday, or something, if you recall those panicky moments I had. He told me something which I had forgotten. If I really believe that those friendships are so worth it, if I'm not willing to let them just go like this, then I should talk to the friends in question. He reminded me that I need to actively do something about it. But I have no idea what I could say. And I've been so scared since the one time I did try to talk to them. And yes, that is a link to a friend's blog, and it probably doesn't make all that much sense; half the post is about something else. And she wasn't there for the rest of it. I couldn't write about it myself, and I still don't really want to revisit it, so if you want a slightly clearer picture of what happened, you'll have to make do with that. Not that anything when it comes to Kate could ever be just "making do". (:
Anyhow, when I said "scared", I meant in the sense that it would go wrong. Again. And I'm scared of knowing for sure that they are content with leaving it this way. When that feels so incredibly, undeniably wrong to me.
I'm in a rambly mood. A purposely rambly, unlike most other times when I attempt to write about something and go off on several tangents, and tangents of tangents.
Hmmm, what else? I'm behind in a few of my subjects. Yes, I know. I wasn't going to do that this year. This was my chance for a new start and, seven weeks in, I'm fucking it up already. I'll fix this, I swear. In the meantime, my parents aren't very happy, at all. In that extremely unhelpful way they are so good at using.
I miss the days when I would stay up till 4 and even 5AM, aided by insane amounts of coffee, just to get homework done at the last moment. Because then, at least I was getting it done, on time.
My mum also is convinced that I have resumed hurting myself, by burning myself. With my hair straightener. On my neck. Even I am not that retarded! Of course, I'm not really willing to tell her that no, that's a hickey. That would be much more awkward. So her only other option is that I burnt my neck by accident, but I vehemently denied that it was anything when she first saw and asked by it. Way to cover up, Toivoa. That would be why I need my stories preplanned and all ready to go. I didn't even consider an accidental burn, although that has happened before. Oops.
So I've the rest of this dreary weekend to get through, with only the thought of a four dollar Mocha on Monday and a possible Macca's run at lunch time to spur me onward...
Well, now that I think about it, that's definitely motivation enough.
Advertising at its best
I haven't had a Macca's Filet o' Fish burger since I lived in New Zealand when I was around six, and just personally, I'm keen to keep it that way. All the same, the ad below is making me crave some of that greasy food, any of it, from that place with the golden arches we love so much... Okay, maybe nothing with the new seared chicken. >.< Or the apple slices that are a choice in Happy Meals. Come on, we do not go to Macca's for healthy food,and especially not apple slices!
McD's --> grease grease grease. Golden fries dripping in grease. Burgers with melted plastic cheese and meat patties we learn not to look at, for our own sakes. Food that is so bad it cannot be anything but great. Don't try to understand it. Just embrace it. After all, Macca's is what our inner children know we need. And our inner child knows best.
We are the fattest nation in the world, and if I contribute to that by my consumption of McDonald's, I gotta tell you, I can deal with that.
P.S. This ad is addictive (kinda like Macca's). I can't stop watching it, and the fish song is in my head... You have been warned.
UPDATE: My sister now can't stop singing it either. ;D
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
What the crap?
What is up with noodles these days? Yes, I did a noodle post not all that long ago, but come on people! The issues that noodles bring are endless. Let's consider my current problem.
I am, as I type, in the process of trying to enjoy eating two minute cup noodles, in a "super big" and "mega" size. 100 grams, in fact. These super-sized noodle cups can be a great source of messy delight, but when in a flavour called "Smokin' ribs"? Even before opening it, smelling it, let alone eating these noodles; that flavour does not bode well for your tastebuds. It was sitting on the kitchen bench top as I arrived home, and I was invited by my mum to eat it, which I gladly went to do. Until I saw the flavour.
Smokin' ribs??
Just for a start, the apostrophe replacing the simple "g" implies a "tryhard-ness". Is it really that hard to say "Smoking"? Really? I know, Australians are lazy with grammar, spelling, and the like. But, even we are not necessarily that slack. So what are they trying to compensate for..?
And for the love of god, what has happened to the simple flavours we grew up with, beef, chicken, oriental; and those more daring, like chicken and mushroom? I know I've missed something major, forgive me.
Thankfully, we have not lost these classics yet (touch wood), but the influx of new, fancy flavours on the market, and not just among noodles, is something that disturbs and irritates me. We have enough choices to make in life already. Why make it harder for us who only want easy, quick foods? Is not my generation indecisive enough already??? I dread the thought of what today's toddlers will grow up to be like...
And as for McDonald's... Happy Meals used to be simple. You decided between chicken nuggets and a cheeseburger, the flavour of soft drink, and possibly the toy. And now. SO MANY CHOICES. There's the orange juice, soft drink, apple juice, and whatever other options there are for a drink; and then there are choices of apple pieces and God only knows what. It saddens my heart, my wonderful mega fast food chains who destroy people's livelihoods and nature and most things to bring us those lovely greasy fries, so well symbolised by your hallowed golden arches. Please consider slightly more. We do not come to you for healthy options. That we go to Subway for. And while Hungry Jacks and KFC also have their hold on us, nothing compares to Macca's with your beef patties that are best eaten without being seen.
I think it is now time for me to quote some lines from one of my favourite (and possibly one of the most random) books ever,
"I am Ronald,
of Mordor,
the Mage, the
Destroyer.
Taste the scorched fruit
inside my pies.
Chew the bitter towelette
of truth.
Die, you seedy little elves
who refuse to accept any
new menu items added
after 1975.
I scorch your loins with
coffee that sears like a
molten steel patty
flipper.
I smash your bones on
rocks of ice churned by
spews of cola.
I till your soil, steal your
potatoes, circumcise
their skins, cook
them in tallow
and tell you
they're vegan.
I shall castrate your
bulls, rendering them more
juicy and docile,
and I shall salt them with
hormones, making them
girly-cows.
You shall wander the
wastelands in search of fishwiches fallen from
the sky, frozen and plump
with weevils and sauce
of fiercest tartar.
My face is stripped of
pancake makeup,
staring at the sun,
burning, awaiting
balloons and a helium
canister that will never
arrive.
You ears shall hear only
the sound of a french-fry
computer that beeps
eternally.
You shall remain forever
parched with a
bottomless Styrofoam
drinking cup.
You, my imprisoned
sprite servants, I shall
deprive of both minimum
wage and nutrients.
My cooker writhes
with yellow frybabies
your lips shall
never taste.
I shall pierce your being
with shakes made of
ground bones, nay,
chalk.
You shall beg for death,
but instead shall receive
only laughter and
choking hazards
disguised as plastic toys.
In my costume of yellow
bib and coarse
enormous red feet, I will
smite you with burgers
laced with thorns.
Inside your bird nuggets
you will find razor
blades, rats and tumours.
The only real clown is a dead clown.
I ONLY MAKE YOU FAT SO THAT YOU'LL SIZZLE WHEN YOU BURN"
As you can see, it's incredibly strange. The book, "JPod" by Douglas Coupland, is obviously not everyone's cup of tea, but it is something I find highly amusing.
Anyway, apart from my divergance onto my inexplicable love for McDonald's, something that seems to afflict many teenagers; my original point is that weird flavours are a no-no for me.
My noodles taste terrible. Sigh.
And society complicates far too much.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Got Milk?
No, really?
I'm currently consuming water and milk at an alarming rate... Not as we speak. Although I am drinking Milo and wishing I had left it in its pure, unadulterated form, that of pre-Milo (although come to think of it, I always put Milo in the mug before the milk... shush!). But I'm definitely not drinking water at the same time.
I don't know if you are aware, but I love juice, of the orange variety in particular. My other love is iced coffee. Chocolate milk also makes it on the list, but only when I have the craving for it. Strawberry or Banana flavoured milk? Nuh uh. I'd rather stab myself in the throat. throw up. Which is something likely to happen if I drink it anyway... Not quite.
Anyway, I have long wished that one could survive by consuming only liquid substances. Think, juice, milk, Up and Go, iced coffee, alcohol ;D; all the very best things are liquid. Who needs food? Call me lazy but I much prefer to drink than eat. It just is simpler. Fun fact: I much prefer to drink through straws.
Although once, my mum bought this heavenly frûche that made me want to live solely off it... /swoons
Anyway. When I was younger, and I don't mean when I was a baby being breast-fed, although I suppose that would apply also; I used to love drinking milk. I'd have a glass everyday before bed, as well as with cereal at breakfast, when, you know, I used to eat breakfast...
I was about five and I loved milk. However, I had abandoned this, one of my first loves, over the years. But, oh baby, it's back. ;D
I just can't keep myself away. My evenings are spent devouring this lovely thing, and I simply have to go back for more. You can tear me away but in a few minutes, know that I will return. I thirst for it with a desire that cannot be quenched. ^_^
Okay, let's stop with the creepy milk loving that is probably disturbing you even more than it is me...
I think you understand. I really like (to drink) milk. It's just, good. Wholesome. Creamy. And since I am apparently fussy as to what I eat, in this hot weather with nothing much else to cool me down, what else shall I turn to? Fun Fact Two: I don't really like ice cream. Or chocolate, just by the way.
I've been drinking a lot of water lately too, litres and litres each day. Literally up to or even over five at some points. Not to replace food... But I just like to, for the sake of it, whatever other reasons I may have.
You'd think my mum would be pleased; at least I've developed some healthy habits... Wrong. "It's no use, you're not exercising and eating healthily. Look at how much weight you are putting on..." and yada yada here we go again. Well fuck you, I will keep you thinking that you're not getting through, whatever I have to do. I'm more stubborn than you'll ever know.
P.S. For those of you uneducated and deprived, this is the only iced coffee that counts for anything.
Feast your eyes and feel the the thirst burning at the base of your throat... This is desire as you have never felt it before.
The best thing ever produced by South Australia
It's "heaps good".
Best ad for Iced Coffee ever. Here is a link if you don't understand the references...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
So when I go for a few days without much food, a barely decent amount of sleep, and lose 470mL of blood + a bit more (donated blood today!); I am completely mindfucked.
Really. I was talking to some guy today, at the skate park, from the event I am doing; but I forget his name. I went really hyper and didn't make much sense.
I'm definitely lacking in energy at times but that could be because I haven't been taking my Vitamin D and Ostelin tablets. I forget what Ostelin is for and yes, I am severely deficient in Vitamin D. Yes, Vitamin D is derived from sunlight. So that is correct, I am not getting enough sunlight living in Australia. Apparently because my skin is darker it doesn't absorb sunlight as quickly, but I'm still out in the sun a fair amount...
Anyhow. Lack of Vitamin D can contribute to depression, tiredness, etc.
But, driving home today, I made so many mistakes. My concentration levels were shot; I hadn't even realised till then, I couldn't focus on enough things at once. A tiny distraction and I made a huge error... It was disturbing.
Sigh.
Only way this week could be better though, is if it was a camp. And if I got to see Justin more.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Sometimes I prefer older people than those my age
Seriously, half the time, at this community service week (it finishes at 6PM rather than 9PM both tonight and tomorrow), I would prefer to spend time with Justin and my other leaders than people my age. I love other teens, don't get me wrong. Like my new friend Monika, who turns 15 tomorrow. She's 14. That seems insanely young... And then there are Amber and her boyfriend Luke (who is sooo cute /dies), who are 15. Cale, who is in year 10 this year at my school (although I've never seen him around before although he's seen me lol), so he's 2 years below me in school, is 15 and a half. He constantly sounds like he has a sore throat, and he has really long dark hair that should probably be cut, which he is getting done on Saturday (and I hate when guys get their hair cut coz it rarely looks good), and braces and a tiny bit of acne; but like I said he's really nice. And a little bit of a flirt...
I hate being friends with guys who are flirts, even without meaning to be, because I think I start flirting with them back, without realising. Although, apparently I flirt with guys heaps, but I've never noticed that I do. Yet, so my friends tell me. And I think I do, looking back, but I really don't mean to. It's just kinda how I am with guys near my age, unless I am completely un-attracted to them or they are my friend's boyfriend or something. Although I guess I still act the same way around them anyway.
But. Justin. I'd pick him anytime. And my other leader, Kristen, is amazing too, although she's just 19. Most of the leaders are awesome. James Bowden is also fantastic, so mature for his age (21).
Today, my friend's younger sister told me that I was really pretty. I was like, uhm. Because her (and her twin) are both absolutely gorgeous. Haha that was a whoa moment for me.
For those of you who don't know, Justin was my small group leader when my friend and I did Big Week Out two years ago. We adored him and spent most of the week with him. He is now 28. When we first met him he was already married to a chaplain, and he was a youth worker. He is really smart, caring, fun, nice; basically everything good. I look up to him so much. I have told him almost everything; not the recent friends thing, but about my self harm since even before it became serious, my issues with myself and my mother, with God. He has been a great help, and there for me in those two years whenever I have reached out to him. He's offered to teach me to learn to drive in a manual, although I'm not sure how serious he was. But how cool would that be? Especially if it means I would get to see him after Big Week Out! He is the most amazing person, and if I could spend all of BWO with him, I would. He's pretty busy with organising things for it though. He was my event leader today (we did an afternoon today and painted over graffiti), and after our event, back at the base, Cale and I were sitting together in one chair (a tiny bit squashed, but he was warm and so I was comfy), and Justin was sitting next to us talking. I haven't really talked to Justin much this BWO, which I'm so disappointed about. Hopefully I will.
He noticed that I wasn't eating lunch today, and he knows about my hating to eat and all the reasons why; but I walked away from him so he couldn't make me eat something. But I love that he cares about me.
Tomorrow I am donating blood, which I am really excited about. Not having eaten much, it may be a problem but we'll see. Since Tuesday I've eaten two chocolate bars and a handful of shredded cheese (I was hungry when I got home today), and we shall see how it goes tomorrow. I hate eating during school time anyway, and really, I have put on so much weight.
I know, it's not a good idea, it doesn't work, and all that. People have been telling me that for far longer than I've known Justin. But... I just don't know.
So anyway, Cale. I have noticed that I have a problem in which, when practically any guy starts to show interest in me, I consider the potential for something more than friendship. I don't want a relationship. But you know what I'm like in desperately needed to feel like I'm good enough, and if a guy likes me, that makes me feel like I'm pretty enough and am acceptable as a person; although I also partly think that they are somewhat deluded... usually, I will end up liking them in return, at least for a while. I also don't have very many guy friends. So when I do, I kinda want them to like me, even if I don't like them. Because like I said, it makes me feel good enough. Even though I'm still scared I'll never fall in and stay in love with someone who will love me back the same way.
Completely off topic - You know what, I almost feel ready to listen to "Rise Above This" again. It is my all time favourite song (thus far), seconded by "The Way She Feels" by Between the Trees. Rise Above This by Seether is the song that gives me hope and courage to live, no matter what happens. It's a song I haven't listened to in over five months, since things fucked up went to hell with my three best friends. (I didn't want to want to keep going. It also reminded me of one of them, the one I post about the most, since he also liked it.) If you're interested, take a look at the official music video on YouTube, it's amazing; about a boy considering killing himself. Or, here are the lyrics (Yes, they are pretty elementary, but still) -
"Take the light, and darken everything around me
call the clouds and listen closely, I'm lost without you
Call your name every day when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Hate the mind, regrets are better left unspoken
For all we know, this void will grow and
Everything's in vain, distressing you though it leaves me open
Feels so right, but I'll end this all before it gets me
Call your name every day, when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Call your name every day, when i seem so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this doubt
I'll mend myself before it gets me
(I'll mend myself before it gets me)
I'll mend myself before it gets me
(I'll mend myself before it gets me)
Call your name every day, when i feel so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Call your name every day, when i seem so helpless
I'm fallin' down, but I'll rise above this, rise above this
Forty eight ways to say that I'm feelin' helpless
Fallin' down, fallin down', but I'll rise above this, rise above this"
Apologies for any typos or errors, it's a mere copy paste.
As for specifics on Big Week Out, tomorrow. It's been great so far (:
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Typical toivoa moment
So today I decided to fry some eggs.
There were a few sitting there in the egg shelf of the fridge door, so I grabbed two as the oil was heating in the pan. All seemed normal...
The problems began when I attempted to crack the first egg. It was rather hard and when it actually did crack I wasn't paying much attention. I held it above the pan, trying to break it apart, thinking that what I was meeting resistance with was that filmy white layer you get just within an eggshell. Not looking, I was thinking, this is soo thick... :s Once I finally came up with the brilliant idea to look at what I was doing, I realised what I was actually holding was an already boiled egg, obviously done by my mother.... Feeling like a bit of a douche, I had another look in the fridge and took another 2 eggs from the carton I found there.
Now, this egg was also quite hard as I hit it to crack it. I got a little bit impatient and tried cracking it simply with the force of my fingers, whereupon it promptly broke and the egg splattered all over me...
I was left standing there, bewildered, with the broken pieces of eggshell in my hands and egg yolk slowly dripping down my top...
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Pretty as a Picture
As a little girl (hey I'm a teenager now kay?? i'm like, all grown up and don't need anyone to tell me what to do, i know all ;P I swear, we're not like that all the time!!! It's a largely untrue stereotype, honest to God! lol), I never really cared what I looked like. I wasn't into dressing up, make up and handbags, high heels and pretending to be a princess. I'd dress up my Barbie dolls, but then I'd make some boys (my parents wouldn't buy my sister and I boy dolls haha) so I could act out my stories that I made up for them. I wasn't quite able to ignore the fact that they were still so obviously female, even when I cut their hair short and dressed them in t-shirts and shorts I made out of tissues and sticky tape, or even, haphazardly sewed, or stapled, spare pieces of material (I was creative!). But I wasn't big on caring about looks.
My mum did my hair for me until I was eleven. My parents chose my clothes until I was in year 6, although I was given choices. But it didn't really matter to me.
I don't know when looks became so important to me. In year seven I emerged out of my shyness to make some friends at school, just before leaving to go to high school. What I do remember is how much I hated myself.
We had a year seven reunion today, about three quarters of our year seven class turned up. We were looking at a Powerpoint where, in year seven, we had each made two pages with pictures of ourselves and written a little bit about us and our primary school memories. What struck me about mine was that under "Dislikes", I had written "Me". I was a little bemused by that, seeing how open I had been about it then. I remember telling my friends on a regular basis how I didn't feel they should be friends with me, how I was a "loser", and whatever other words were derogatory at the time. I'd talk about it all the time, I felt I wasn't worth them. I didn't deserve to be cared about. I was twelve.
I think that because I had been so shy and without many friends all these years, that I felt, subconsciously, when I did make friends, that I couldn't deserve them. If I hadn't before, why would I now? I was just a little more visible. And realising that I was desperate to be noticed, accepted.
It was in about year seven that I began considering my weight. I've never really been one to read magazines. Our family didn't even own a TV for the first eight years of my life, because they thought it had too many bad influences, which I'm inclined to agree with, to a point. Sure, with my new found friends, I would look through their glossy new "Girlfriend"s every month, but it seemed pretty stupid, even then. I don't really find pictures of models and celebrities to be something I desire to look like. I am aware of the falsity of those images, the pressure and extreme measures taken to be that thin, etc.
No, where I began to care about my weight came from somewhere much closer than that. My mum. I remember, in year six or seven, one of her comments as I walked into the room where she was sitting, "You look pregnant!" My mum has never been one for tact.
I haven't forgotten this yet, obviously, because no matter how much I tried to ignore this, it attacked me somewhere deep inside. How easily we remember past wounds! I know I remember hurtful words clearly, while forgetting kind mentions. This in part is due to how I would seize upon any negativity from others and twist it, digging the arrow in deeper. My worst enemy has been myself, but with others lending weight to the negative thoughts about myself, I was trying to protect myself by making sure their messages stuck, that I would remember. How is that protection? So that I would not embarrass myself, that I would not delude myself into thinking I was pretty, an acceptable body shape, and possibly even reveal that I thought so, when it wasn't true. I was driving home these "truths" so that this embarrassment could not occur, for if I thought I was better than I was and others saw that, would they not just deride and scorn me? And although I thought I was not deserving of these friends of mine, that did not mean I didn't want them. I did, oh I did! To feel loved, it was wonderful. How selfish of me, to want friends who I would only bring down through our friendship. Yet another thing I must hide deep within, another shameful secret to bury. I didn't want to be selfish.
I don't know about you, but one thing I learned from my peers was that belittling yourself was a good thing. If someone complimented you, you would disagree. "You're so pretty." "No, I'm not,", before listing imperfections which proved why the girl in question could not be pretty. Being smart was something I learned to hide early, no one wants to be a "nerd", not even me, who would read at recess and lunch, while walking home, and through the holidays until she was ten or eleven. Even accepting a compliment, in my mind, has come to seem conceited. Even if what is stated is true. It's ridiculous, I know. But from my subconscious observations of others, this is what I put together.
And also, putting yourself down got you assurances. For, even if you thought badly of yourself, if you were wrong others would tell you so. So, even, as I told myself that these reassurances were just what my friends were saying to be nice (After all, they were nice enough to be friends with me, and who on earth could be so nice that they would befriend someone like me?); a small part of me hoped, and wanted to believe that they meant what they said in all honesty, that they were right.
My mum has told me time and time again how I am putting on weight, how if I keep eating the way I do and not exercising, I will end up unable to walk from how fat I am by the age of 20, how fat I am getting, how much I am "expanding", etc. She is always bugging me to exercise.
Why won't I?
For a start, I have never really been good at sports. This makes for being extremely embarrassing for such a shy girl. The public humiliation of always being picked last for a team, of letting down the team, was something I hated. Standing there unwanted, because I wasn't good enough, isn't that enough to make anyone cringe? People tend to either act like they don't care, and play even worse on purpose, or, like me, avoid being placed in such a situation as much as possible. I knew the only way to get better was through practice, but through practice I'd have to play, and I couldn't do that. I have engaged in sports over my primary school life, swimming, tennis, and soccer. But it was worse because my dad was really good at sport, in particular soccer. I wanted to make him proud of me by being like him, good at soccer. I love watching soccer, and playing it. However, for a long time, I didn't want him to see that I was bad at it, as I knew I would be, and so I wouldn't play soccer with him. In year seven I actually did play soccer for the under 13's or 14's girls for school, and it turned out I was a decent defender. It was fun, our team was good, and we won the majority of our games. Come high school and we didn't really have any teams, and I knew I wasn't good enough to play for a club. I was scared to try out since I was scared to be rejected. However, I did organise for my friends and their parents and my dad and people from my church to play soccer most Saturdays for approximately the next two years. It wasn't as skilled, teams were unevenly numbered and sometimes there were barely any people, but it was fun. That eventually petered out.
Reason Two: My mother and I have had a fairly turbulent relationship for most of my adolescent life, just to break the stereotype haha. We argue about a lot of things, but to me, if I exercised, it would mean that she had won. She would know that she had gotten to me, with everything she said. I would have lost. That would never do. So I would lose weight in my own way, and I would be happy and so would she. But I would not let her win. Her telling me about my weight was not going to get to me. It did. But she would only win if she knew how that affected me. I could not allow that.
Why? Why did it matter if she wanted me to exercise? I could have. It shouldn't have mattered who suggested it, when it was the healthy way to go.
I'm still not sure what the reasoning is behind this "not letting her win" thing that I have.
I know she only means well. She wants me to be healthy, and fit, and not overridden with diseases and weak before my old age. She wants me to have the best in life. But, she is blunt in typical Indian manner, and my easily hurt self has been wounded deeply. I am trying to gain self-worth. I am trying to believe that beauty is from within, and that outer beauty doesn't really matter, that it fades anyway. That true beauty comes from the heart and overflows to the outside. A beautiful soul is the most important thing. I know this. But I still can't abandon my foolish fears.
I want to look nice because I want other people to like me. I'm scared that if I don't look nice no one will want to be around me. I know people aren't that shallow, but I need to be accepted so much. It's somewhat irrational.
The End, for now.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Time for Some Maths
Me + the beach = Me in bathers
+ Self Consciousness = very uncomfortable me
+ being convinced that she is overweight = I either don't eat for two days beforehand OR try to make myself throw up
Factor in that the second option is more likely these days due to my lack of discipline, however apparently if you're going to make yourself throw up you should do so within 15 minutes of eating; pretty much nothing occurs.
Except it's gross. And tastes disgusting.
+ I feel horrible afterward for trying to.
Stat: Calc: Enter:
y = Stupid cycle in which nothing much occurs except building up of negativity.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Oooooodles of Noodles
I love noodles. Really. Chinese food is great. Indian-Chinese is also good. Seriously, in the four year gaps between our visits to India, I draw up from my memory the taste of food from a nearby Chinese restaurant to my nana's home in Pune, India, time and time again. It sustains me as I pass by the days, eating mediocre food. Haha well, not exactly.
And, please, explain to me this fascination with Indian food people seem to have. It's good, but not that good. It delights me to find non-Indians /people from similar countries who dislike or at least don't love Indian food. That's one more person to shove in the face of my parents as evidence that not all others love Indian food and I am not just strange and alone in my non-loving view of it. Or something.
Then, I love 2 minute noodles, noodle cups, and stir fry, etc. Any noodles are good. (:
However, there is a problem when it comes to my eating of noodles...
I am rather uncoordinated. If I was easily embarrassed, I am of no doubt that my face would permanently be a bright red. Although, I'm not too sure if my face actually does turn red when I am embarrassed, since my skin is dark(ish), but... metaphorically speaking...
Anyhow, much laughter is had at my expense, on my side as well. Our sloped driveway has me tripping almost every time I get out of the car, I fall over while simply walking, stumble on nothing, and drop things a lot. As for my phones, they're lucky to survive as long as they do. I believe my mobile comes into abrupt contact with the ground at least twice everyday, no matter how much care I attempt to take. I'm forgetful and easily confused; not to mention incredibly disorganised.
It's not even that I'm disorganised as such. Really. ;P I love organisation. I love matching sets of items.
The problem, you see, is that I am too organised. If something is messy, I want it organised. But I have a specific pattern that things must be in. I will not half organise. I want matching kitchenware, complementary furniture in a room... Matching holders on a desk, rooms with a particular style to them. It drives me absolutely crazy how, in our house, some of the furniture in a room would be appropriate for a country style home, others fitting for a simplistic, modernised set up, yet others casual and comfy in earthy shades; or bright colours; with others formal... the list is endless. I see all the possibilities to theme different rooms, or the same room in different themes. I considered interior designing as a possible future career but I passionately want to have a job where I can help people in important areas, make a difference in people's lives, not their homes.
Okay, our home doesn't clash that terribly, and thank god. I am still irked by the lack of a theme. (And yet, I hate themed parties. Dress up parties, that is. If I had loads of money to go out and create fantastic costumes, they would be fine. As it is, working with my $35 of pocket money per month and added grade money each term [remind me to do really well at school this year!], it is not something that brings great joy to my heart. [I really really want a Star Wars themed party some day, just by the way. I would be Queen Amidala LOL.])
How am I too organised? Well, if I can't organise something perfectly, I refuse to organise it at all. When I clean my room, I haul out everything out from the depths of my wardrobe, dresser, and under my bed. This, firstly, makes my room messier than it is, and is more time consuming. My mum cannot understand it. She says I should do things one at a time, i.e. clean the outer messiness and at another time do all the concealed stuff. But I want to do it all in one shot. And of course, I must take advantage of my mood. When I start doing something, if I leave it unfinished, I am likely to leave it so for a long time.
When the urge to cook attacks, I will make three or more things in one hit. As for cleaning, when that urge comes, I clean everything I can possibly think of. Another point of complaint for my mum. She wants me to cook more, after all, I am sixteen, blah blah. When I do cook, she usually complains that my delectable (or not so) creation is unhealthy... Cleaning? "Good. Now if only you'd do it more often. (Also applies to the cooking scenario)" The woman is impossible to please, I swear.
I like my stationary to be matching and look good. What I write in and what I write with are very important to me. I like the expensive stuff. It's not on purpose, it happens with clothing too. I see it, I like it, I want it, I check the price tag and tend to be somewhat incredulous. I will not spend recklessly, always. Even if I really love something I find, if I find the price ridiculous, I will put it back (reluctantly) on the shelf and move on. Mostly. (Shoes are my biggest weakness. It seems it's a female thing. I fall in love with heels even faster and perhaps more often than I fall literally. Haha, I'm hilarious. >.< I think I've been around Jimit for too long.)
The point is, if something cannot be organised as well as I would like, I deign to organise it at all. Probably not the best way to go about life...
So. Uncoordinated. That's me. Ask my friends to recall a funny moment involving me, and it will either be an incredibly "blonde moment", or a time in which I fell down or off something. Without even trying, at least 5 events come to mind. I shan't go into those now... I was meaning to discuss noodles.
So, the other night, I was eating noodles from a noodle cup. When eating noodles, there are a few minor issues resulting from my lack of coordination which I urgently need to address. Firstly, I am incapable of twirling noodles onto a fork. How is it done??? I try, but as I turn the fork over to add more to the bundle of noodle, the previously twirled noodle untwirls off the fork... Then there is how noodles seem to, while being put on the fork, drag others along with them, so twirling can never be finished, even if successfully done. I suppose I could just cut it, but I'm too fearful that any twirling half accomplished will be completely undone by trying to cut the noodles. So I end up with noodles ends dangling from each side of my fork.
That is not all, folks. The worst is yet to come.
Due to my twirling incapability, I usually just shovel noodles with my fork. Again, this drags other noodles from the bowl or plate with it, and the problem of dangling noodle ends makes an appearance once more. Why do I never actually try to cut it..? Definitely need to consider my options more.
Now, most noodles are accompanied by something liquid - sauce, curry, or the flavoured water in 2 minute noodles. The problem then, is this: when I am eating my noodles of the fork, the dangling ends must enter my mouth eventually. Even if I try to use the fork to bring these up to my lips, they flick. If I don't use a fork here, they flick. They do that. Even if they don't hit my chin and leave my face covered in gook (not that I don't love the "baby-who-has-just-eaten look", however it's not really my thing), liquid tends to fly, onto my shirt, onto the table, etc. I am a) confused, b) grossed out, and c) embarrassed by this.
It's not that I don't understand how it happens, I understand, all too well. But why, why can't I eat like a normal person???
Don't even get me started on what ensues when I eat a yiros. Particularly, that time I ate a yiros when my collarbone was fractured and I couldn't really use my right arm...
Postscript - I said "folks" in this post. I fucking said "folks"...
Thursday, December 25, 2008
"Christmas time is buzzing in my skull"
Will it let me be?
I cannot tell."
So I love the Nightmare Before Christmas. And before I had the chance to blog about this much celebrated holiday, Christmas is upon us.
"There are so many things I cannot grasp
When I think I've got, and then at last
Through my bony fingers it does slip
Like a snowflake in a fiery grip"
As I have mentioned before, I am a member of a Christian family. Even practically all of my extended family are Catholics. When I say practically all, I mean there is literally one and he's married into the family, who is a non practicing Hindu. This, then, is the reason so many are surprised that we barely celebrate Christmas.
My parents will give my sister and I gifts, yes, but barely. It is more often than not in the form of money, which doesn't make for the most interesting of presents, although I can always do some more. What other presents we received were almost invariably actually given to us post-Christmas, thanks to the mid-financial year sales. Smart, yes. The only reason we actually do get presents is so "we don't feel left out". At least, this is what my parents used to tell others.
We also go look at Christmas lights, but that's about it.
The reason we don't celebrate Christmas is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard. When missionaries first came to some large country, or possibly Europe; yeah I'm not too sure; anyhow the native people had lots of celebrations for their gods; the missionaries, not wanting converts to feel left out and become dissatisfied with Christianity, decided to designate this day as Christmas, "the birth of Jesus". And no one really knows which date Jesus actually was born on. So according to my parents, it's stupid to celebrate because of its origins. By my reasoning, it doesn't matter what the origins are, what matters is what it means to you as you celebrate it. For all the non Christians who celebrate Christmas, its a good time to spend with family and give each other gifts, and be joyful and all that jazz. In the same way, it can be to truly celebrate Christ's birth if we so wish.
One thing about me, I love traditions. I love the idea of heirlooms and I have tried to construct family trees, I love old things that continue on. I love the idea of Christmas, the festive spirit, although we all know it has been completely commercialised, but as I said before, I believe that its what you make it. Not even necessarily the idea of Santa; I never believed in Santa Claus either by the way. Not sure I'd want to, you'd be so disappointed when you find out he isn't real lol. And I'm not too keen in believing in something that isn't real. But Christmas in general seems like such a fun idea.
When I have my own family, we will celebrate Christmas. I determined this a long time ago. We will put up a tree and decorate it, and lights around the front of the house. Our family has put up a Christmas tree once during my life.
Another thing. My parents actually used to celebrate Christmas, when they were Catholics. When they became Christians, it was to become part of what some would call a "legalistic" church, that is, they wanted to abide by every possible law in the Bible, so it was very strict; they believed that women shouldn't really wear pants due to a Biblical passage stating that women shouldn't wear men's clothing; although my mum, my sister and I still did, but not to church. So that is where this idea came from. We have changed churches now, although there was actually much to admire about the beliefs of this former church of ours, but there is time for that in another post.
So anyhow, I hate that we don't really celebrate Christmas. I think my parents have finally begun to grasp that, although my mum worked this Christmas morning and the last one too; my mum encouraged my dad to take us out to The Pancake Kitchen for breakfast this morning, and we're having turkey for dinner, even though my mum thinks it is bland and disgusting ;P
Indians and all their spices >.<
I wouldn't mind celebrating Christmas the Indian way actually. It's amazing. Most people live in lanes or apartments in very small estates or apartments in Pune, where my family is from. Around Christmas, they hang huuuuge Christmas stars and other decorations right across the lanes and in the estates. There are Nativity scenes just as big placed around. Motorbikes and / or scooters are the preferred method of travel rather than cars in the city. So these things are so large they are practically fully blocking the streets and bikes can only just get through. They have Christmas shows in these lanes and almost everyone who lives in the lane or the estate, whichever, will participate. And there are fireworks, of course. There are so many people, everywhere. People sell fancy balloons by the road side, which admittedly happens most days of the year anyway. Beforehand, for weeks, people make handmade Indian sweets of all shapes and colours. /shrugs
It's good.
My surprise which I mentioned briefly the other day is that I finally got my Learner's. If you're not Australian, or South Australian, that's for driving, which you have to pass a theory test for. You have to do 50 hours of driving and hold it for a minimum of 6 months. During this time you can only drive with someone with their full license next to you in the passenger seat. You need to have a certain amount of lessons with a driving instructor also. After this, you can get your P1's. This is your provisional license, where you display P plates on your car, but can drive without a fully licensed person. After this, you can get your P2's, where you can take your P plates off, and after I don't know how long of this, you can eventually get your full license.
I failed the test the first time I went for it on my 16th in June, I got really confused on the give ways lol. So it took me this long to go back for the test, since I was so scared I'd fail it again. (You have to get all the give way questions correct, which is the first part of the test. The next is a bunch of multiple choice questions which you need to get 32 out of 40-something correct) But I only got one question wrong on the multiple choice this time C: I'm happy. I've already been driving a bit, I drove on the roads straightaway lol. I have driven before, but not on roads that are used by anyone else and not since last year. But it's fun (:
And I don't think my parents are so opposed to celebrating Christmas anymore, Mum is thinking of buying ornaments after Christmas for next year, and saying we could put our tree up next year, we still have our old one in the garage somewhere. I just find it sad that I missed Christmas properly, all these years. I would have loved to experience the excitement of waking up on Christmas morning, opening gifts that we had all given each other, spending the day together, having fun and doing family things. Although, we did a lot of family stuff when we were little. But the anticipation in a present being a surprise; it's been a long time since I've felt that. For years I've always known exactly what I was getting for my birthday or Christmas, have even been there when its been bought. In a way, it's good, it ensures that I will like it; but it doesn't have quite the same feeling...
That said, I think too much emphasis is placed on gifts with Christmas these days. Like I mentioned before, Christmas has been commercialised. Retailers place importance on how you need to get presents for other people, need to buy all this new stuff. The stress of this can make Christmas completely worthless. If you feel like you need to get someone else a present because they are getting you one, that is missing the point. You should be giving gifts in love, because you care about the person, and want to express it.
Mmm anyway, I'm done for now, may come back and add to this later, but as you can see, my thoughts are scattered and not well put into words. I need some more sleep. Ah well.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
My Apologies Were Never Quite Enough
I just wanted to apologise for the banality of my posts lately, nothing very interesting at all, or if so, merely copy pasted, while acknowledging that.
I haven't written in a while, though my tremendously long posts leave something to be desired anyway; perhaps brevity? ^_^
I do tend to go off on tangents far too much. And I'm not too sure that all that many people enjoy my detailed insight on the mind of a reformed and hopefully staying reformed self harmer who still thinks about it a lot...
But, topics I am intending to write about soon:
- Why I hate Christmas
- Why I faintly want to be a part of the scene
- My thoughts on the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer
-The food thing these days
And so on and so forth.
I'll try to keep my three ex (?) best friends out of the picture, I think it's enough of the missing them in text for everyone to read, it must get old. Needless to say, it hasn't gotten old to me, I still miss them.
That's all for now, it's 12.53AM.
I'll be fixing up my iTunes for a couple of hours now (:
xx
Monday, December 1, 2008
That's it
/dies
haha not quite
i can't be bothered having a shower as yet, ehhh tonight i suppose
i'm listening to the Hairspray soundtrack, could do with watching it with someone right now
ima gonna go find something to knit >.<
lol i like knitting
i'm half considering refusing to eat in protest of being grounded LOL
but nah i eat when i'm bored aha, and we have tiny teddies atm
actually i don't even feel like eating regardless
so eh we'll see
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