"I live on raw emotion, baby"

I meant to write a brilliantly eloquent post yesterday about ANZAC Day; however, this evil beast named homework had me in its fearsome grip. I did (half) kick its ass, but I still have some catch up work to do and we go back to school tomorrow, so apart from my nightly phone call with Jimit, and the one I just concluded with him, I’ve had no contact with the outer world since Friday evening… Unless you count church. Which I don’t.

On the topic of church, though, in paying attention I was challenged today. Not a Christian and all that, but even on another note, I am far too argumentative and unwilling to help out, particularly with family. I mean to work on that, so let’s see how that goes.

I had a brilliant topic to post about but it has crawled out of my head and is trembling on some high ledge somewhere, about to jump. Thanks, you’ve been a lot of help (I hate you). So I’m all out of sleep and blog fodder (For this blog in particular at least), and I’m listening to Maroon 5. Confession – I cannot get enough of boy bands. Backstreet Boys, LMNT (look them up), Maroon 5, Matchbox 20 – I can’t help it. The Beach Boys, Kelly Clarkson and Daniel Bedingfield all feature in my iTunes. The shame, the shame. Or rather, the guilty pleasure. This is not at all what I wanted to speak of, and more like something I’d aim to post on Let's Talk About The Tour Guide but whatever Trevor, we can’t always get what we want and I have a fabulous post idea lined up there. I need sleep (or a coffee).

Is “fabulous” really spelt like that? It just looks wrong to me…

Anyhow.

The school holidays are over for me at 11.59PM tonight, and it’s back to school for another gruelling ten weeks. Year 12 is hell. Thank god it’s the last year. No one mention Uni, I may slit your throat. If I keep it off my mind, that negativity of it all may not grind my soul into the dust, kay??

Biology is calling, and it is something of a bitch. A very large something. I have never said the words “I don’t care” and meant it so heartily except in reference to that subject synonymous with death. Although, German is quite possibly on par with that.

Bai guys. Catch you on the flipside.

xx

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It's Days Like This I Want to Keep Forever

Now that my low of before (last post) is over, I'm back to the happier self I keep finding that I am, more than usual. The disappointing of others is something I hate, particularly my dad. So why is it so hard to quit the things that would make him unhappy, particularly those he doesn't yet know about? He tries so hard to help others out of situations like the ones I jump into, and it's time I start being a daughter he can be proud of. That's going to be ultra hard. Karma's gonna be a bitch when I hit parenthood.

I want moments, when I'm a parent, like that with my best friend's nephew, Devin, today. Devin is newly eight and I've spent a lot of time with him lately, some sort of unexpected benefit of spending so much time with my best friend, especially during holidays. I remember trying to teach him to swim, with my best friend, when he was five. From then to the next time I saw him, he didn't remember me. Now he'll hang out just with me all the time when I'm over, showing me the stories he's written and trying out new impersonations and chasing me around the house in a tickling war. Today, he gave me a hug when I had to leave. Does that make me feel extra special? I know I bitch about little kids all the time, and I still think of him as one, but it's kids like him that reassure me I do want my own. (Still not too keen on the pregnancy/giving birth thing, but who knows?) While sometimes he is as frustrating as anything, he's so much fun to have around. I know, it's nothing like having to look after him all the time, and there's the dreaded baby stage to get past first, but it honestly is a joy to know him. So yes, that hug made me smile a lot, in a completely non pedophile way.

He is a never ending source of laughter, including his pretending to be female and putting on a very feminine walk while proclaiming in a high sing-song voice, "I'm a lady, I'm a lady!" repeatedly, much to our hilarity, although his older brother Miguel was much disturbed. The flower stuck in his hair merely added to the comic scene.

Aside - I just picked up on 11.11 for the first time in months, I hope you too made a wish. Regardless of how superstitious you consider yourself to be, it's something fun to do. I take this as a good sign, that I haven't missed it today. (:

Devin lives with my best friend's family and his mother, although with her impending wedding early next year, that is soon to change. I hope I'll see him again. I do love my best friend's family, with Miguel, a high school P.E. teacher and DJ, and their oldest sister Claudia, Devin's mum. My best friend's twin brother has, in turn, ended up a pretty cool guy, in stark contrast to his painful primary school years. I spend enough time over at their house that, as Miguel puts it, I should be paying rent.

I miss that, with my family, that casual family camaraderie. I get along great with my sister, like I've said, and also with my dad sometimes, an occurrence that grows ever the rarer, to my sadness, and my relationship with my mum is terrible. When our family is together as a group of four, it usually ends in arguments, screaming and tears. Occasionally a good natured bickering will be the worst it gets, but I miss the days when we would properly converse as a family unit and tempers wouldn't flare so quickly. I'm partly to blame, of course. We all are. But even with all of our fighting, I love my family and I know I can rely on them when needs be.

So anyway, today. It was supposed to be spent with my best friend Kathleen, our good friend Michelle, and Jimit, who Kathleen hasn't met yet but wants to. Jimit is Michelle's ex of two years ago, and trust me, she does not have a problem with us ever getting together. Conversely, she encourages it, far too enthusiastically, speculating about a possible marriage between us in the future, and even goes so far as to mention children at times. I try to head her off before it gets this far, but that is the way she is, even when Jimit and I were simply friends. She tends to think ahead like that.

Michelle was busy and then Jimit was grounded, and so, it ended up being Kathleen and I. We had a good day. Nothing notable, but there was much laughter, much good music, much falling over, and far too much (and far too loud) singing of High School Musical in the open street. Kathleen tasted my coffee, decided she liked it, and ended up drinking half of it which I in my excitement over her liking coffee gave to her. This resulted in extreme hyperactivity on her end for the next 45 minutes and much hilarity for me. I imagine she is exactly the same when drunk, but apparently caffeine will get the same reaction and, no hangover? What could possibly be bad about this situation? Nothing. ;D We ate curried tuna from tubs in the middle of the mall and attempted to slurp melted Maxibon ice creams in the food court. There were extreme amounts of "I love you"s, "I hate you"s and "You love me"s exchanged, an obvious some in jest, and much spontaneous rhyming and over dramatising throughout the day. Good friends were bumped into and we deliberated long and hard over presents for upcoming birthdays, ice cream type, pie or water, and various items of clothing and music. We bought books and recommended more to each other, and swapping of objects took place. We were laughed at by a number of other people, and contemplated where else we may possibly apply for jobs. I even did some Maths homework while in her company.

All in all, it was essentially a good, while largely uneventful day, the details of which are not important. It was the company. I’m very lucky to have such a friend, who I have known for such a long time. Unfortunately I cannot say we have been friends as long, since for some time in our last year of primary school, we hated each other for some ridiculous reason. Together with Michelle we make an indomitable trio, and is that not the way friendships should be? After all, love conquers all, and a very real and necessary form of love is that in the bond of friendship.

Dear god did I really just get that sappy? Perhaps Nic[h?]olas fucking Sparks has infected me… Granted, I read those three or four or five of his books months and months ago, but they still haunt me today. Separately, they’re great. But back to back, I don’t think I could vomit fast enough. If I threw up over such things, that is. Seriously, guys. Do not read too many of his books. You may kill yourself over the predictability of the endings, the way a man can think so like a woman that he details the shaving of her legs in the shower [!!!] and the oh so perfect happy endings. I’m all for happy endings, but a little realism also hits the spot, y’all.

Anyhow, die Madre bids me fare the interwebs goodnight for now. I shall see thee all in the morrow.

Night xx

P.S. Pray I finish all my homework before school starts. I’m probably just going to die instead, but whatever Trevor. I am really that lame. You wish you were as cool as me ;)

P.S.S. When I mood swing only once, and only into reflections and not "oh I hate my life" emo type shit, in a day, I think this day was pretty kick ass. Apart from that one thing but srsly what the fuck man. I honestly don't get what's the big deal. Oh, maybe I'm being insensitive. I like to do that sometimes. But -_-

P.S.S. Don’t forget. ANZAC Day. Lest We Forget.

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Oh yah, it's Easter. Happy Easter and all that crap

So I was all like, I really want to blog this Sunday night on Easter, since it's been a few days. I racked my brains for hours (or the minutes in between episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Yes, I have that little of a life. Although, I am killing time till I go out, so there.) However, my brain isn't really a fountain of ideas at the best of times. So as I started this post with literally nothing to write about, I mentioned Avatar, and because I am a kind and good person, gave you a link for those of you who are curious. Now, what site did I link you to? The official website for this show, which there must be because everything has a website now? Hell no.

The link leads to the freaking Wikipedia article about it. Now, we've all been told by respective teachers and god knows who else that Wikipedia cannot be trusted. In fact, most sources on the internet "are not reliable". But come on, does anyone really believe that? I mean, everything on this blog is a hundred percent true. ;) Hmmm. Let me think about that.

No, no, actually, I think that is correct. Except those times when I write stuff and say "That was a lie" right after it... Yeah.

On a side note, I think it's pretty cool that my blog is getting hits from faraway places like South Africa, Spain and Brazil. From people who are actually reading and spending a number of their minutes of their life actually reading what I have to say. When seriously, what I have to say is... well, a whole lot of nothing, really.

Hmmm, anyway. So, Wikipedia. If you're like me, you've edited a Wikipedia post yourself, adding a whole lot of crap. The ex best friend showed me a post that had been mangled hilariously once, and come on, it's a lot of fun. And yet, we still trust what we read there! Unless, I hope, it has been obviously edited...

We are slaves to the interwebs. I, in particular, am slave to the blogosphere. I cannot part from it for long, even if I am not posting, or even commenting, but merely lurking. Yes, I lurk. I know.

I'm kind of obsessed with the Death Cab For Cutie song I have playing on my blog. That said, I am aware that music that automatically plays on any site is irritating as shit and anyone who causes it to happen besides the love of my life aka MySpace, which I have sadly been parted from for far too long, should be shot in the head... So shoot me.

I'll delete it soon, I swear.

Anyway, off to Movie Marathon it up or some shit my best friend and I haven't actually worked out yet but are trying to and failing because she is trying to make me make a decision from our one option. We only have ONE option, how can I not make a decision? I guess I'm just not willing to commit.

Which reminds me, Chris and I have pretty much broken up. Much hurrays and also much boos. Pro number one - Jimit is now friend with benefits again hellz yeah. I mean sure, we only hook up so perhaps friends with benefits isn't the right definition, but w/e. Okay I'm trying to look at/on the bright side and I suck, but I am actually happy about that which was one of the major downsides, in my view, of going out with Chris. I'm a terrible person.

I suck at life aha. Good night interwebs.

EDIT: What the shit is it about Easter that makes people say peeps? Not one, but two bloggers happen to have posted today using "peeps" in the title of their post. Yes, only two. But come on, it's not a common word... Just go with me on this one kayy?

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"Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor..."

"...just for the attention,
'Cause that's just ridiculous..."

For those of you who don't know, I saw a counsellor a few times after my overdose on painkillers. Maybe four, maybe five. And also for those of you who don't know, I was not trying to kill myself. But, I liked this counsellor. I felt guilty for having to see her, when it cost my parents so much. But they wanted me to get better. And I wanted to get better. And hopefully even fix things amongst our family somewhat. However, most of you will know, as well as I, that seeing a counsellor is not something you do just a couple of times. If you want a quick fix, it's better to go in for drugs, or hypnotherapy, or crazy altering-chemicals-in-your-body type stuff. If you want to see a counsellor and work through problems, it is a long term thing. It takes time, and patience. Four or five visits to a counsellor is just the start.

I'm not crazy and I'm not suicidal; I don't even necessarily have depression, but yes, I have seen a counsellor. And, it wasn't actually a waste of time. It was helpful. Not every counsellor will be helpful to you personally, and different people "click" better with others. But that's all rather irrelevant. I'm just trying to do my bit to beat down the stigma our society associates with counsellors etc. But more on that another time.

Sometimes, I don't feel up to taking that responsibility that seeing a counsellor engenders. It means having to actually take action, to stop relying on others. Because you have to put in effort.

And sometimes, I don't feel like I have that much within me. I don't think I can keep going. It feels too hard and I want to give up. When, like me, you are desperate to know that you are loved, you will sometimes go to shocking lengths to be assured of this. It didn't begin as this, but the ways in which I hurt myself physically ended up serving another cause, when those around me found out, seeing how they were upset told me that they cared. I already knew they cared about me. They expressed it enough. But for me, that wasn't quite enough.

When I say that my friends "found out", I mean, generally, that I would tell them. Or I would drop hints or not quite hide what I had done. I hated myself for it, for making them upset. It was yet another thing to prove I was a terrible person; that I would let them know. More ammunition to use against myself. I didn't want to be attention seeking, but honestly, that is what I was doing, in that aspect of my self harm, at least. I suppose you could say I was slightly manipulative as well. But I didn't have much control over it. Each time I determined that no one would know, and almost each time, I would let at least one person know. Sometimes not for weeks, months even. But I would eventually fold.

I don't suppose I could have hidden the guilt I felt for betraying them, which is what I did every time I self harmed, even if I had truly tried. I let myself give in and tell them because secretly, that was what a large part of me wanted. Even when I didn't realise it.

Anyway, it is this need to be assured of others' love for me that led me to being heavily reliant on them. I needed their reaction to my actions as motivation to stop self harming, I needed them to help distract me when I wanted to self harm but was trying not to. I used my friends as a crutch (no one please think of the other crutch! >.<) and let myself go on feeling sorry for myself. That's the truth.

Sometimes it feels too hopeless, too hard to go on. But I know I am stronger than I think. It is up to me to keep going, not to give in as I did when trying not to tell my friends about my self harm. Because if I had wanted, I could have not told them. And if I had truly wanted, I could have stopped myself from self harming, each time. But I was scared to take responsibility, because that meant that things could be my fault. I hate being wrong. It's not that I feel I am better than others, rather, that I want to please everyone, and if I make a mistake, I am letting others down. It's why I hate team sport so much, because I was always the one who would let everyone down (apart from in soccer, I love that game C:).

In those respects, I was (and still am, in other ways) a little child. I still sometimes want to be the vulnerable one who will be in a position where (hopefully) others will protect her, and she can know by this that they care, and she matters. But I am learning to tell myself just how ridiculous that is, and do some standing up for myself.

There are the times I feel so weak and I want to hand over my problems to someone else and tell them to fix them, but that is not possible, and if I'm honest, I know I can hold out, even if it won't be easy. It is up to me whether I stand firm or break.

With all of this, I sometimes wished I would just be given anti-depressants or something. Not that I'm saying they are the easy way out; sometimes they are necessary. But I'm not keen on drugs and things that alter the body's functions and I knew I could do it otherwise, although it would be harder, longer, and more frustrating. So I was glad to be seeing a counsellor. They do help, but only if you let them, if you take on board what they say and apply it. And I was ready for that. I was ready to move forward, no matter how hard it was. And sort out stuff that I hadn't been able to sort out in my own mind. We all know the saying about not seeing the wood for the trees. A distanced person could lend a valuable perspective and I wanted that.

I had thought about counselling long before, but I couldn't bring myself to ask my parents about it. That would involve first convincing them I had things I needed to work through, and then that it should be done professionally, etc. So I was, in a way, grateful at the chance my overdose gave me. I thought that even this stupid thing I had done could be the very thing that helped me. I had to have follow up counselling. I had to confront things, I couldn't avoid it, and I didn't even have to bring it up personally!

I hadn't seen my counsellor since before Christmas as she was going away on holidays, and said just to make an appointment when she got back, whenever. Well, she's been back for a long time. I wanted to see her again, but Mum didn't bring it up, and I was dead against bringing it up myself. I'm not good at broaching certain (most) remotely sensitive subjects with my parents, particularly my mother, and I really didn't want to do this. She had made it clear she thought I was better. That I only "caused all this trouble during school" and she thought that when school started again, "her and Dad would have to endure the nightmare again". "You've put us through hell... you've caused us so much heartache... you've caused your dad so much stress that with his high cholestrol he could have a heart attack... (or, rather more bluntly) you'll kill your father..." And so it goes. My mother is not the most... er, understanding or tactful soul... Yet, while I am an absolute sucker for guilt trips (I felt guilty for eating or attacking in any other way my friend in some Wii game we were playing at his house, even though it was part of what my character had to do in order to beat him - Super Smashed Bros Brawl, if you were wondering), I refuse to let my mum's work. Of course, some still slip in past my barriers.

I didn't exactly want to explain to my mother that no, not everything was alright, and no, it had a grand total of nothing to do with school vs. holidays, but it was an ongoing thing with many issues and this matter with my friends was only a very small part of it. I made half hearted attempts to counter her nightmare statements by saying "it's not anything to do with school", and her "you seem just fine now that it's the holidays" with "how would you know"s, but I would back out and run for the hills the moment she demanded what exactly I meant.

I finally asked her if she could make a counsellor's appointment, and she was very reluctant. I was a bit stunned as she asked me how many more times I could go see the counsellor. I know it's expensive but there is absolutely no point in going a few times, it is an ongoing process! She doesn't see anything really wrong with me, which also contributes to it, but I know that I need this. I can get by without it, but to truly fix things, it would be of great help. And I love the chance to have someone get to know so much about me; practically everything, and accept it. I've realised that it is something I long for, because it would be a true mark that I am worth it, that I am an okay person; valuable, and all that.

This was over two weeks ago, and I asked her yesterday if she had made an appointment because in the end she said something which sounded like a grudging acquiescence, and she told me that she hadn't.

I don't want to say this, I don't want to feel this; but I'm disappointed and it feels like a betrayal on my mother's part. She should want me to get better. I know it is just because she can't tell anything is wrong, if I was physically sick her and Dad would spend everything they had to help me become well; but this is different and it's not as simple or as obvious as physical illness. Not that I'd say I'm mentally unwell, but still.

Sighh.

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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 (:

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It's heaps good

I may not be posting much till the end of this week (yes, I know you're all devastated). It shall be a busy and rewarding week, I'm really excited at the thought of making new friends, seeing old ones again, learning, helping others, and all that jazz.
I finally get to donate blood! I'm really excited since last time I was given the opportunity I wasn't 16, which is the minimum age for donating blood here in Australia. Procedures like that fascinate me, I love getting blood tests and the like. For those of you who don't know, I have a bit of a weird obsession with blood (I'd post a link here to a previous post but I'm on my dad's phone), and also it can help save three people's lives so I'm even more enthused! I also have a motivation never to take drugs (injecting ones anyway), because if you ever have you can't donate blood. Not that I should need a reason but I'm something of a pushover, sucker for peer pressure, etc. Anyhow I definitely want to be able to donate blood, which I can do till I'm 70 hurrah (:
But blood donating is just a small part of what this week shall be about... It is a week where teenagers participate in events that service the community, but not necessarily community service in the traditional sense. There is a bit of painting over grafitti but visiting nursing home residents, clowning, free public barbecues, fixing people's gardens are some of the other events we've got planned.
It's basically organised by a bunch of churches around Adelaide, and I last participated in the eventt two years ago. There are several bases and ours has about 70 teens, plus leaders and organisers. Apart from the events, we will hear talks and participate in group discussions where will we consider the importance of community (which is also important to me and To Write Love On Her Arms) and God and how he can work in our lives, and those kinds of things. Some really important and thought provoking ideas are raised during the course of the week, and I am definitely looking forward to it.

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Roses are red, Violets are blue,

But roses are pure white,
Compared to my hue...

Yes, I know, I'm quite the poet. ^_^
To elaborate on my previous post. Yes, I am sunburnt.

The sun in all its glory smiled down upon me today,
And in its brightly shining, got quite carried away.

Uh, please stop with the rhyming.

Why am I so distressed about the sunburn / tan?
Okay, I'm not distressed, I'm dismayed and yet, highly, highly amused.
But come on, I had so much sunscreen on!

With Indian parents, I'm not exactly light skinned, although I wouldn't say I'm heaps dark, like not really much at all... But when I tan / burn, I tan, and this tan is permanent. My shoulders are already really dark from my second sunburn, at the end of year 9. I am now starting year 12. So, now that they have been burnt further, they will become even darker...

So I was at the beach, if you remember my post before entitled "Time for some maths", which was written absolutely shockingly, yes; I had gone to the beach the day prior to that post. I ended up going there also on Saturday, which technically is now yesterday. Thanks to some of your comments and also the fact that I hadn't really eaten much over the past day just out of forgetfulness, plus how we went to a more secluded part of the beach, I was rather less self conscious. Now I wish I had been like, "Ewwww, I am hideously fat thus I shall cover my flab", or, you know, something. Lol. And now, I am paying, dreadfully.
Haha.

See, with my face, if it weren't for the red nose (no Rudolph comments thanks), I could easily have pulled off the "I randomly have rosy cheeks for now" look. There goes that excuse.

My legs are really tanned and while I was happy with the shade they were before, they are now too dark for my liking. Hopefully it shall fade. Then there is the tan line from my shorts. Thankfully, my board shorts are the shortest item I own, so that shan't be revealed anytime soon / at all.

Now, the major problem with all of this is the fact that I'm actually not allowed to go to the beach with just my bathers. My parents wish for me to wear a tank top over them, plus the board shorts, because otherwise it's too revealing. Which is fair enough. And I wear the board shorts, but self conscious as I am, I pretty much refuse to wear a top because that's kinda lame. And you should probably have noticed by now how much I want to blend in with other people in ways like this...

So anyway. My tan line shows quite clearly what I was wearing. My back is red apart from the white (by comparison) line across it, which is just great. I also have the shape of the bikini where it comes up to tie around my neck imprinted on me. Which is only made worse when we factor in that, since I couldn't find my own bathers, I borrowed my sister's top, which I somehow managed to fit in, so when I wear my bathers next, the tan line shall be noticeable. /sulks

Haha. But it's been a good day. Lots of sun for vitamin D deficient me (:

So perhaps that is why I'm so happy... hmm.

Aftertaste

Afterthought, I mean, of course. Perhaps the consumption of certain crappy drinks while at the beach today is finally catching up with me... since it really didn't do anything then. I'm acting just a little bit odd. Having to restrain myself from writing completely random crap in comments haha. But then, that could just be me.

Pulses, pssh. If Vodka Cruisers and beer weren't at the top of my most hated list for fairly different reasons (too sweet and much too similar to undiluted cordial, plain disgusting), Pulse would be there. They practically taste like V (energy drink), and I love V. But it's just like, expensive V. Alcoholic energy drinks... >.< They were a complete waste of money.

No, no, I lie.

My friend and I found great amusement in pushing the empty cans down under the water while we were on the beach and watching them bounce up as we let go...

Because we're really cool like that. ^_^

Not like we wanted to drink much or anything, after all, twas the beach... But waste of money. To all you who have not tried it, I highly (the correct word escapes my mind) de-recommend them...

Postscript (Really, it's not a postscript at all, and if it was, since this is an afterthought, it would be a post post script) - I will never, ever get as drunk as that time at Brad's (to be explained shortly).

Everything mentioned on this blog is not to be mentioned to people, in particular, relatives, who I know kthnxbai. lol

Oh, and so far, all of you have been thoroughly unhelpful in assisting me to come up with a fake name for myself for the blogging world, and the main characters in my life that resurface time and time again in my posts... Sadface.

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This is to make up for my lack of pimples, isn't it?

I barely ever get pimples. This is someone's idea of revenge... >.<
Everyone, I am sunburnt! Practically everywhere. Okay, not quite everywhere. Just, oh you know, my face, my shoulders, my back (with a tan line from my bikini), the backs of my legs, my cleavage (!); and the front of my legs are severely tanned. Gotta love the beach.

Haha fourth sunburn of my life, I have nothing to complain about. Actually, I do, and you, my dear readers, can learn all about it shortly. I am online on my dad's phone, with this open as a webpage, I don't think he'd be too happy if I set up mobile blogger on his phone. Not that he'd be pleased I'm using it to access the internet, but it's more that this way he won't know...

He'd be even less thrilled to discover that I'm only on his phone to pass time while waiting for both he and my mother to go to bed so i can get on the computer, which, may I add, they think they have prevented me from accessing when I should be in bed. Removing the internet cable? Pssh. It takes more than that to thwart me!

Haha oh I'm ever so devious... Or not.
Anyhow, this is an irritating way to blog, my dad has a Nokia E71 if you're interested, qwerty keyboard blah. If you want a phone with a full keyboard, I recommend a Blackberry. Not this. As for why I don't use my own phone, my current piece of crap just barely has a camera... I have a particular talent for destroying phones... Perhaps one day I shall blog about it...

And yes, my parents still try to get me to be in bed by 10.30, on a Saturday night. In the holidays. Sigh. However, please notice - "try". Perhaps "hope in vain" would suit better...
Anyhow, catcha on the flip side, bloggees! (My impromptu fond name for all of you, as you may be able to tell, I'm rather cheerful, despite the current red shade of my skin. Grr)

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Hello 2009

So it's a new year. I want it to feel different. I want to feel different. We're in a different state but it could be just another day in 2008. And yesterday, it was. Maybe the day before actually, is it past 12? I can't be bothered checking the time, but probably.
I've never been incredibly keen on birthdays. But one thing I really hate is how it never feels any different. Perhaps I place too much stock on feelings. And yet, every year, on my birthday, when some adult jovially says, "It doesn't feel any different, does it?", I reply with "no", because I never expected to feel any different, it's just another day, I'm just another day older than the year before. But I still wish something would change. Sure, things do change. Hit sixteen in Australia and you can apply for your Learner's License. Seventeen and you can legally have sex. Eighteen and you can buy alcohol, must vote, and would be tried as an adult in a court of law. According to law, you are an adult at eighteen. But who is the law to say?
Different people reach the point of maturity people would call adulthood at different times. Some may never even reach it. But years, ages, they're all just numbers, that essentially, don't really mean that much.
I woke up today and I still have the same feelings, I still miss my best friends and want them back, I still worry about my sister and want her to be happy and instead see her desperately sad; and feel helpless knowing that I can't do anything to help, hoping time will help, and less time rather than more, but knowing that with her self value, time may make it worse (post on that coming soon); I still know that I am selfish in too many ways, I still determine to change that each morning but forget in the space of a few minutes, I still hate my weight, I still try to decide if I like what I see in the mirror, I still get angry at mum and lose my temper too easily... So much is the same but I guess the idea of the New Year is that a new time has begun, an ending of the period before, when really, time continues on endlessly, relentlessly; and as such a new chance has presented itself for us. To make better on the time gone, to move past our mistakes, to go forward. Is that what the New Year is for?
Keeping times and dates is all well and good, we mark the events in our lives by these things, but if we allow ourselves to be ruled by the clock, then that is something I feel is somewhat wrong. We should note time, appreciate time, understand that we have a time to fit everything in, that we do not last forever, but I think if we rush to fit things into a schedule just to get everything done within a time frame, then we can make a great mistake. Don't get me wrong, schedules are a good idea, for work and such; but if we try to plan our personal lives in a way that we must cram family and people into spaces that are left by the essentials such as work and sleep, we can end up just trying to allot them a slice of our time, so that this becomes more of another task on our organiser, something we do so we know it has been done and we have fulfilled our duty.
I'm talking crap again, I know, what I'm saying again doesn't make all that much sense, confused with several different ideas together. Sorry, I get like this when I'm tired. Ignore the previous paragraph pl0x (:
Anyway, I wish you all a Happy New Year (I think for the second time?), and that it may be safe, happy and that you may grow and love and laugh and live, and only be bettered by years to come. (: Thanks to all the followers of my blog, this and the other, at the moment known as "Head In The Clouds". Thanks to everyone who has commented and to all you other bloggers out there who's blogs I have been blessed with reading.
Congratulations to That Damn Expat on your wedding on New Year's Eve, and a shout out here to Michael Rivera who has been most caring and supportive and not to mention a wonderful blogger whose posts I always eagerly read even when I fail miserably at commenting them, although I have things to say in response to most of his posts. Which reminds me Michael, your "2008 in review" post which I forget the actual name of, was great and I will comment it and your more recent posts soon, I promise! I am hoping that we will become good friends, I think the beginnings have definitely been sown (:
Yet another mention for Diary of an Old Fart", great blog, thank you so much for this gift to the blogging world, Mulled Vine (:
Anyway, to bed I must go, seven o' clock morning tomorrow. Some market or something. (I'm in Melbourne with my aunt's family at the moment)
night, xx

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"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.

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One of my best friends has gone to New Zealand today

and her twin brother...

sigh.

I'll miss her.

We haven't been this close in a long time

She's going to have the most amazing time (:

And perhaps Michelle and I will finally get the chance to catch up, even though without her

My most significant friendships tend to be in threes...

New word to describe me is: docile. I am the house pixie C:

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Waiting

I'm usually okay at waiting, I have waited for a bus for over an hour before, in India taken a bus standing for over two hours [sigh] and can wait out stuff fairly well.
But being grounded the last two days, not seeing my friends sunday, and saturday i spent the day with my sister which was great but it's not quite the same, you know? which reminds me i saw these awesome heels ;P
anyhow, i'm supposed to be going out with two friends, but they need to check their blogs and call me lol, since i have no credit and i don't want to ring them and wake them up by mistake
i truly suck at sleeping in
grrrrr

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A thank you to my mind

For seizing onto topic and bringing me distraction

WARNING - MAJOR BITCH ABOUT IRVING LOLOLOL

what a fucking whore

wait no she isn't a whore she's far too ugly to ever possibly one

The most desperate man would rather fuck his grandmother than her, and pay irving to stay away from him for the rest of his life, if only he didn't drop dead in the face of her monstrous appearance first.

I'm so angry, she sent a letter home saying I've missed a number of English lessons, what the fuck is she talking about, I turned up to the majority of those lessons, waste of fucking time as it was >.<

My mum is angry at me again, but dear god seriously what the fuck you prune faced bitch??? [irving, not my mum, thanks]

She's so cantankerous and so narrow minded and almost all of our English tasks are designed by her with such a bias towards what she likes, assignments on her favourite movies, assignments on poems she thinks are worth reading, stating her opinions with no sensitivity as to what may be offensive to some, unwilling to listen to others, set in her ways and so stubborn and refuses to admit another being right over her >.<
sfoijdsklfjd :@

Admittedly I'm only being so angry and so vicious in order to save myself here, from my mind, but anyhow. This is in general, not the overarching rule, and ashfkldsjflds

Anyway, gotta go do my hair, fun stuff.

Ze Bay and seeing Australia tonight (yn), then Kathleen sleeping over. Which reminds me, I have to call her.

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