My Computer is on a Save Fail so I have been unable to save the beginning of a fic I began. So I'm posting it here just to have some kind of record of it.
He had no idea what to say.
There she sat, in her white linen hospital bed, engulfed by a gaggle of her red-haired offspring. Some of them had straight hair like the rest of the carrot-topped family. Some of them resembled their grandmother, and like Gryffindor lions and lionesses they sported unruly, recalcitrant manes. All of them were Weasleys, of varying generations. Her children and grandchildren, of course.
Speechless, he had every damned intention to pivot one-hundred and eighty degrees and march straight back to the nearest apparition point. For Merlin’s sake, what was he doing here?
“What are you doing here?”
Good question.
Draco sighed, and carefully turned on his dragon-hide boots – fresh from the box – to face the pride of crimson-maned lions gawking pointedly at him. Their gazes were almost accusatory as though he was an unwanted guest, and most likely, he was. The older of the Weasley children, the adults, were quick to judge with menacing glares sealed with bequeathed suspicion and hereditary enmity. They looked upon him with slight condescension as though he were the inebriated neighbour who occasionally stumbled drunkenly through the white picket fence and into the yard, crushing the meticulously trimmed gardenias. Or at least that’s what he assumed the Weasley hovel – correction, house – looked like. In all his years, he had never gathered the courage or the audacity to check.
“What are you doing here?”
The question repeated. It was the older Weasley, her son, the one with the horrid misnomer. Ah, yes. Hugo. Scorpius had mentioned Hugo a few times in the Ministry. Pain in the arse, that one. Like his father.
“I was invited.” Draco stated promptly, allowing a hint of his customary drawl to permeate his speech. Naturally, as a Malfoy he harboured an exceptional aversion to being unwelcome, or looked down upon. No one looked down upon a Malfoy. Especially not the Weasleys. Hugo responded with a dubious look. However Draco Malfoy was being far from mendacious. He was invited, by the only other person in the room that did not boast red hair. Hugo’s oceanic eyes immediately shifted towards his mother and her frail lips moulded themselves into an upturn quiver. Despite her feebleness, she accomplished the traces of a reassuring smile and an expression that conveyed it was safe to leave.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded solemnly and clasped his hand in hers. Reluctantly Hugo turned from his mother and led the herd out, meanwhile granting Draco a contemptuous front of bravado. Draco gritted his teeth to prevent himself from scowling at the boy.
“I don’t care if you’re Scorpius’ father. You hurt her and you’re dead,” he whispered as he left.
Like he said, pain in the arse, that one.
So the Malfoy patriarch and the Weasley matriarch remained staring at each other across the gulf of standard issue hospital linoleum and the silence that spanned in between.
He decided to break the silence.
“What, Granger?” He couldn’t bear to associate her with that name, and refused to call her anything else other than the name that was hers. His voice was gruff, clearly uncomfortable. At this, she broke into a genially radiant smile.
Monday, 29 December 2008
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Life Kicked Me in the Proverbial Balls. Again.
I swear. If I were a male living in metaphor-land, I'd either be developing some serious Prostate Cancer OR would have already lost my ability to father children.
Regardless.
I am much more intelligent and far more stupid than I previously thought.
What a wonderful thing it is to discover two days before Christmas. He is now with someone else. There, I said it. There, I am acknowledging it. But am I accepting it? We shall see.
How am I feeling. Odd. I cannot quite define what exactly it is that I am experiencing. It is like being born again, I feel as though every previous experience I’ve had (however limited) should have prepared me for this moment, assisted me in buffering for such a loss but of course, it hasn’t. Nothing could possibly prepare anyone for this, unless they’ve dredged themselves through this predicament before.
I do believe that Kate Winslet’s character Iris in the film, ‘The Holiday’ reiterates my circumstances both succinctly and truthfully.
“I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.”
Kudos to the scriptwriters.
Of course, I wasn’t in love with him. Just highly infatuated. Whether it be love, infatuation, like or a crush, overcoming the adversity of the unrequited requires both time and patience. Love will take deep root in your heart and a mere crush will barely seed. To varying degrees, time will always be taken, wasted, obliterated, in order to make yourself feel whole again. Varying degrees of time will always be taken to get over that impossible someone. But the pain? Oh yes, the pain. The pain is universal.
As I said, I am more intelligent and far more stupid than I previously thought. When I initially embarked on this fortuitous and educational expedition, I knew that all we could be was friends. I KNEW. I had harboured the insight and intellect in which to predict this. Thus, I am more intelligent than I initially perceived. But of course, I’m a romantic, maudlin pathetic individual. Did I listen to myself? No. Because I decided to fall head over heels and because despite our differences, despite the distance and all the circumstances creating a gulf of separation between us I refused to believe that love would ever deprive us in such a way. In my naivety, I desperately hoped to believe that love would work the way we all wish it work, that for once, it would be my turn. I desperately wanted to believe that God and whatever fated being that governed us all would grant me just this once chance, this one opportunity to really feel, to really love and be loved like so many others have before me. I created a picture of beauty and perfection, something that omitted or condoned all flaws. I clung to it, convinced myself that one day he would see me, acknowledge me and somehow by some unspeakable magic, he would call and say that he felt the same. I clung to that picture with blinding hope, with every will and fibre in my body as a drowning man would commit to his last breath. And now, as a bubble, I watch it rise and float away.
I first responded to this tidbit of information quite positively actually, I surprised, curious, amused, even. It was morbid fascination that compelled me to discover more about her, and yet it was my defence mechanisms which had ceased such actions altogether. I refused to torture myself by comparing myself to her. If he couldn’t see me, well then, I suppose that’s his loss. I could then feel the resentment creep in, burgeoning a deep obsidian within my psyche. And then, finally it really hit me, like a slow but heavy sledgehammer it hit me. It was then that I snuggled into my quilt, closed my eyes and pretended that I couldn’t feel the droplets of moisture roll down my cheek. I wondered, pondered, perused and analysed every memory, everything we shared, simply wondering how, or why, where I could have read it wrong and misunderstood. It was exhausting, I assure you.
To tell you the truth, we’re still getting to know each other, he doesn’t know me. And nor I him. Thus I know that I could have never have loved him. My previous affections for other guys have been mostly of pure lust. However, with him how can the lust exist if I’ve only ever seen him twice this year? I actually began to fall for his personality. That isn’t at all as shallow as lust, this, this begins to take root in your heart, while lust may be perfunctorily swept away. When I needed to get over AA, I merely yanked that plant out and that was the end of it. While this, I may sweep this away with my curiosity and amusement, I may ignore it, I may yank 95% of this plant out. But, I know, that there will always be that 5% left remaining, the piece of root that had dug in the deepest. It lies there, behind everything that is me, and waits as it grows and festers, poisoning everything in the darkest of all midnight shades.
I likened the loss of him to when your computer crashes and all your important files are deleted. I can live without him, I know I can, I simply don’t want to. I suppose it isn’t the loss of him that hit me the hardest last night. It’s once again coming upon the dawning realisation that life simply doesn’t ask you what you want. It hands out all the gifts to everyone else and hands you the dodgy leftovers. I can’t say that I’ve liked anyone more deeply, and it is because of this that I walk away wounded, a mobile casualty. I walk away a little more wounded, a little less complete and a little more cynical – and that my friends, is the pain. Pain, undoubtedly, is difficult - but getting used to that pain, growing accustomed to that festering ball of darkness in your heart, that’s simply sad. Here I stand, a beacon of it. But now is not the time to wallow in self-pity – it’s Christmas, and quite frankly, although that five percent of him will always be there, I know that I’ll be okay.
I will be okay, and that’s a fact that I well and truly am aware of. It’s not the end of the world. However, that too is a source of pain. Because for some unknown and masochistic reason, I don’t want to be okay, I want to feel, I want to know that heart-wrenching unequivocally life changing pain. Why? I don’t know, perhaps it’s because for some pathetic reason, you’ll know that you truly have loved someone enough, and in that way, to make your life paradoxically yet blissfully complete. To feel that pain is to know that you have loved someone with every fibre in your being, and that perhaps, in return for loving someone with such fervour, potency and intensity, they may just love you back.
It’s stupid, I know. That’s my hopeful self talking.
Enough with the angst. I’ve been caught in a whirlpool caged in a prison for nine months now. I’ve been emotionally tossed and turned, I’ve been high and low. I refuse to wallow in my own sorrow. I refuse to think of myself as inferior. I refuse to feel sorry for myself anymore.
I wish to see this as an opportunity, as a gift.
What is that gift, you ask? Well my friends, this is the gift of freedom.
=)
Regardless.
I am much more intelligent and far more stupid than I previously thought.
What a wonderful thing it is to discover two days before Christmas. He is now with someone else. There, I said it. There, I am acknowledging it. But am I accepting it? We shall see.
How am I feeling. Odd. I cannot quite define what exactly it is that I am experiencing. It is like being born again, I feel as though every previous experience I’ve had (however limited) should have prepared me for this moment, assisted me in buffering for such a loss but of course, it hasn’t. Nothing could possibly prepare anyone for this, unless they’ve dredged themselves through this predicament before.
I do believe that Kate Winslet’s character Iris in the film, ‘The Holiday’ reiterates my circumstances both succinctly and truthfully.
“I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.”
Kudos to the scriptwriters.
Of course, I wasn’t in love with him. Just highly infatuated. Whether it be love, infatuation, like or a crush, overcoming the adversity of the unrequited requires both time and patience. Love will take deep root in your heart and a mere crush will barely seed. To varying degrees, time will always be taken, wasted, obliterated, in order to make yourself feel whole again. Varying degrees of time will always be taken to get over that impossible someone. But the pain? Oh yes, the pain. The pain is universal.
As I said, I am more intelligent and far more stupid than I previously thought. When I initially embarked on this fortuitous and educational expedition, I knew that all we could be was friends. I KNEW. I had harboured the insight and intellect in which to predict this. Thus, I am more intelligent than I initially perceived. But of course, I’m a romantic, maudlin pathetic individual. Did I listen to myself? No. Because I decided to fall head over heels and because despite our differences, despite the distance and all the circumstances creating a gulf of separation between us I refused to believe that love would ever deprive us in such a way. In my naivety, I desperately hoped to believe that love would work the way we all wish it work, that for once, it would be my turn. I desperately wanted to believe that God and whatever fated being that governed us all would grant me just this once chance, this one opportunity to really feel, to really love and be loved like so many others have before me. I created a picture of beauty and perfection, something that omitted or condoned all flaws. I clung to it, convinced myself that one day he would see me, acknowledge me and somehow by some unspeakable magic, he would call and say that he felt the same. I clung to that picture with blinding hope, with every will and fibre in my body as a drowning man would commit to his last breath. And now, as a bubble, I watch it rise and float away.
I first responded to this tidbit of information quite positively actually, I surprised, curious, amused, even. It was morbid fascination that compelled me to discover more about her, and yet it was my defence mechanisms which had ceased such actions altogether. I refused to torture myself by comparing myself to her. If he couldn’t see me, well then, I suppose that’s his loss. I could then feel the resentment creep in, burgeoning a deep obsidian within my psyche. And then, finally it really hit me, like a slow but heavy sledgehammer it hit me. It was then that I snuggled into my quilt, closed my eyes and pretended that I couldn’t feel the droplets of moisture roll down my cheek. I wondered, pondered, perused and analysed every memory, everything we shared, simply wondering how, or why, where I could have read it wrong and misunderstood. It was exhausting, I assure you.
To tell you the truth, we’re still getting to know each other, he doesn’t know me. And nor I him. Thus I know that I could have never have loved him. My previous affections for other guys have been mostly of pure lust. However, with him how can the lust exist if I’ve only ever seen him twice this year? I actually began to fall for his personality. That isn’t at all as shallow as lust, this, this begins to take root in your heart, while lust may be perfunctorily swept away. When I needed to get over AA, I merely yanked that plant out and that was the end of it. While this, I may sweep this away with my curiosity and amusement, I may ignore it, I may yank 95% of this plant out. But, I know, that there will always be that 5% left remaining, the piece of root that had dug in the deepest. It lies there, behind everything that is me, and waits as it grows and festers, poisoning everything in the darkest of all midnight shades.
I likened the loss of him to when your computer crashes and all your important files are deleted. I can live without him, I know I can, I simply don’t want to. I suppose it isn’t the loss of him that hit me the hardest last night. It’s once again coming upon the dawning realisation that life simply doesn’t ask you what you want. It hands out all the gifts to everyone else and hands you the dodgy leftovers. I can’t say that I’ve liked anyone more deeply, and it is because of this that I walk away wounded, a mobile casualty. I walk away a little more wounded, a little less complete and a little more cynical – and that my friends, is the pain. Pain, undoubtedly, is difficult - but getting used to that pain, growing accustomed to that festering ball of darkness in your heart, that’s simply sad. Here I stand, a beacon of it. But now is not the time to wallow in self-pity – it’s Christmas, and quite frankly, although that five percent of him will always be there, I know that I’ll be okay.
I will be okay, and that’s a fact that I well and truly am aware of. It’s not the end of the world. However, that too is a source of pain. Because for some unknown and masochistic reason, I don’t want to be okay, I want to feel, I want to know that heart-wrenching unequivocally life changing pain. Why? I don’t know, perhaps it’s because for some pathetic reason, you’ll know that you truly have loved someone enough, and in that way, to make your life paradoxically yet blissfully complete. To feel that pain is to know that you have loved someone with every fibre in your being, and that perhaps, in return for loving someone with such fervour, potency and intensity, they may just love you back.
It’s stupid, I know. That’s my hopeful self talking.
Enough with the angst. I’ve been caught in a whirlpool caged in a prison for nine months now. I’ve been emotionally tossed and turned, I’ve been high and low. I refuse to wallow in my own sorrow. I refuse to think of myself as inferior. I refuse to feel sorry for myself anymore.
I wish to see this as an opportunity, as a gift.
What is that gift, you ask? Well my friends, this is the gift of freedom.
=)
Sunday, 7 December 2008
CHRISTMAS CONCERT!!!
The Christmas Concert last night was awesomeness!! It was such an amazing experience, both in spiritual growth and within the maturing of our characters, and of course indeed in the utilisation of our talents!
OASIS rocked their socks off :) It was so awesome-o. I can't believe how nervous I was though. In order to relieve my tension I began to play piano as I find it a highly cathartic experience :) Then Tim comes along on the drums and we had a brief Jam session lol! Who knew that drums could actually meld into Yiruma's "River Flows in You"? I certainly didn't!
The Christmas Concert was so awesome though! Being an MC is so exhilarating, fun and yet sooo stressful at the same time! It was developmental experience, one which had "brought me out of my shell" I suppose, or in Pat's words: "You really came out of yourself." Singing "Lean on Me" with the crowd was amazing! Especially acapella where everyone can be heard. The sense of community truly evoked the Christmas Spirit!
OASIS was awesome of course, I had to run around dancing, singing and MC-ing. All in all it was an awesome night. Saw Chris there too!!! The dance was so funny though, I really thought that I was going to fall off the stage. ALSO MY HAIR WAS SO WINDSWEPT I LOOKED LIKE A MADWOMAN! I should have put it up! argggh, but anyhoo. Meeting the Councillors was also something I'll always remember! I was so honoured! Thank the Lord that it didn't rain!!!
:)
I want to say more, but I need to study!
Bye bye!
OASIS rocked their socks off :) It was so awesome-o. I can't believe how nervous I was though. In order to relieve my tension I began to play piano as I find it a highly cathartic experience :) Then Tim comes along on the drums and we had a brief Jam session lol! Who knew that drums could actually meld into Yiruma's "River Flows in You"? I certainly didn't!
The Christmas Concert was so awesome though! Being an MC is so exhilarating, fun and yet sooo stressful at the same time! It was developmental experience, one which had "brought me out of my shell" I suppose, or in Pat's words: "You really came out of yourself." Singing "Lean on Me" with the crowd was amazing! Especially acapella where everyone can be heard. The sense of community truly evoked the Christmas Spirit!
OASIS was awesome of course, I had to run around dancing, singing and MC-ing. All in all it was an awesome night. Saw Chris there too!!! The dance was so funny though, I really thought that I was going to fall off the stage. ALSO MY HAIR WAS SO WINDSWEPT I LOOKED LIKE A MADWOMAN! I should have put it up! argggh, but anyhoo. Meeting the Councillors was also something I'll always remember! I was so honoured! Thank the Lord that it didn't rain!!!
:)
I want to say more, but I need to study!
Bye bye!
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Stage Parents
Somehow I can actually understand how she feels.
I hate Adrianna, I think she's a complete ignoramus. However, there seems to be a glimmer of humanity within her in this episode despite the fact that she OD'd and practically crucified her altruistic best friend because of her own vice.
I blame her mother. Clean and simple. It's her mother's fault for dumping on her daughter that the onerous responsibility of being the sole breadwinner of the household. She's such an megalomaniacal stage-parent who strives to be bloody Dina (Deena?) Lohan.
Although, as much as I despise Adrianna's character, I can somewhat understand how she feels. Tonight, my parents were also being 'Stage Parents' towards me. They consistently have been haranguing me about joining the blogging revolution or making some grand fucking debut on the internet with my stories. They're such capitalists these days and they're willing to sell anything due to their web/marketing-seminar they've been attending - including my talent. I swear, they've been so financially-oriented these past few months that all they can discuss with me is the prospect of me selling my stories, pimping them out there for the world to see.
They just don't understand. They over-estimate my ability. I'm not bloody Stephenie Meyer or JK Rowling, or bloody Beatrix Potter for that matter! I'm not that bloody kid who won dozens of writing competitions and finally got published at age fifteen. Who is going to read the machinations of some insipid teenager who happens to have a certain aptitude for writing? No one. No one bloody cares. It's the freaking internet for crying out loud!
They've become such capitalists that all they want to do is stuff me like a Thanksgiving turkey with ideas for websites and writing and all this other technological crap. They don't know my world like I do. They don't know my writing like I do. Gosh it's so infuriating! I understand their stance and sure, why not utilise what I've got? But the way they're going about it, I might as well be so capitalist I might as well be that girl who's auctioning off her virginity for money! Her excuse? She's a capitalist!
My parents want me to go about this the easy way. They want me to shuck my morals and ideals and short cut my way to success. I DON'T WORK LIKE THAT. I believe in hard work, I believe in doing things the right way. I believe in honesty and integrity and making sure that whatever I may post on the internet is 100% my own. They don't understand that. My dad keeps telling me that I'm too idealistic. Well, at least I'm staying true to myself! I holding on to what I believe in! What is wrong with that?
Talk about selling your beliefs!
They're being so ridiculous.
It's like they're stage parents and they see me as a commodity, a tool to simply poop out stories like a rabbit and expect them to be high grade quality. It doesn't fucking work that way. I'm not a vending machine - and besides, if I were, no one wants a vending machine that only stocks second-rate wannabe brands of cola.
They also don't have any concept of time. The only thing I need on my mind right now is the HSC. IT'S ONE WEEK AWAY AND THEY SPRING THIS ON ME. Why do I need other things occupying my mind and distracting me right now? I DO NOT NEED THIS! I must study! Not think about ways to sell my soul.
Sure I love writing, but it's not everyday that I'm suddenly always motivated. I don't write fast, producing a short story for me takes days, weeks even. I cannot simply run by supply and demand. Inspiration doesn't work that way. I don't have any confidence in my writing anymore. All I only write when I have to now and despite the fact that I don't like it, it's all I can do because I HAVE NO BLOODY TIME to do anything of leisure due to the fact that MY HSC IS NEXT WEEK AND I HAVE SCHOOL TO THINK ABOUT.
Why do they have to keep thrusting this upon me? I mean, yeah it's a great idea and I'm up for it, but the way they are handling this with me is all wrong. They say I'm too idealistic when really everything for them is black and white. I can't simply shove all my stories on a website and go here ya go! Next week I'm uploading something new! I've never worked that way, and when I did, everything I produced was long, drawn out and crap. Utter crap. A waste of the english language.
Here comes the part I hate most:
My parents have never read anything I've ever written.
They never read anything I give them. They don't bother. It's like a sporting dad who pushes his son to constantly train and train and train and then never showing up to his son's soccer matches or whatever. I hate it. I don't feel supported. They go yeah, sell it. But they don't even know the product that they're endorsing! It's stupid!
Gosh, I NEED TO CONCENTRATE ON THE HSC.
I CAN THROW AWAY MY MORALS AND IDEALS LATER.
LATER, I CAN EXPLOIT MYSELF. LATER, I CAN BLOODY SELL MY VIRGINITY WHILE I'M AT IT.
ADRIANNA, I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND YOU.
If I had drugs right now, and a complete lack of self-respect, I might OD myself.
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Limerence is About as Sweet as a Lime
Unfortunately, my Dostoevsky perusal mission has resulted in a failure as I was sufficiently distracted with other texts such as: The Virgin Suicides, Howl’s Moving Castle and Breaking Dawn. The Virgin Suicides was excellent and I was delightedly shocked to recognise the term ‘fin-de-siecle’ in there, also highly intrigued by the perspective the novel is written in. Howl’s Moving Castle is like any other folkloric fantasy novel and Breaking Dawn became an addiction, I couldn’t put it down, I almost cried, laughed many times and thoroughly enjoyed it. Although it was written like a bloody piece of good indulgent fanfiction, I think that’s why it was enjoyable. I am also okay with Jacob now, I like him. That’s sacrilege, I know as almost a year ago I wanted to slaughter that mutt, now he’s like the likeable cousin because he released Bella and imprinted on Renesmee. Renesmee. Seriously. Meyer! Demonstrate some creativity please!
Goodness, I’ve developed a ridiculous tangent. My apologies, I digress. I am not blogging today to discuss books. When one has six days without school or exams, aside from reading, one suddenly obtains a ridiculous stretch of time in which to think. When you’re me, you think superfluously. I think I think too much. Even now, I’m over-thinking things. Anyway, yes, I was thinking extensively, and also had a huge chunk of time to cultivate quixotic emotions especially when one reads a novel such as Breaking Dawn. (Honestly, boys, adopt Twilight as your female BIBLE and Edward Cullen as your heathen-god leader.) Coalesced with such rumination I have delivered myself to the onset of an unhealthy, festering inferiority complex. I won’t indulge in such inferiority complex, I believe, well, I hope I am more intelligent than that self-flagellation. Life’s a bitch like that, but what can one do but eat one’s own damn lemons? Other than making them into lemonade and selling it for fifty-cents a cup, of course (just the mark of my metaphorical thinking in line with our capitalist society).
Quixotic emotions, limerence and lime, inferiority complex? Who else could I be referring to, but him of course? Built in or programmed into the female psyche is the ridiculous tendency to analyse things. It’s brilliant when one is in an English class, but disastrous, stressful and arduous when such analytical ability is immediately (and unfortunately instinctively) utilised in the courting arena. So we play the courting game. I’ve decided to blog and document everything relevant I possibly can from the moment I met him. I need this cathartic release. He’s dominating my thoughts and that won’t do. I will not accept that. I am an independent woman whose mind does not require subjugation by the dominion of a guy, well, man, really. I’m hoping that releasing these thoughts and ponderings from my system will reduce the thoughts of him swimming around my head.
Him. That’s all I’ll dare refer to him as. Him. He’s something beyond comprehension. You really know how to pick’em Dana. Really. Why couldn’t choose someone a little less, unattainable? A little closer to this planet? A little more in my own world, a little more convenient, less far beyond my league? Sometimes I think that this can only end in heartache. This isn’t about ‘the thrill of the chase’ either. I’d rather that there BE NO CHASE. I wish life were as simple as imprinting. Sure, by human nature, the forbidden is exciting and alluring. It’s arousing and intoxicating. Why do you think I love DHr fanfiction so much? The temptation of the forbidden, of the unattainable is potent and carnal, regressing us back to our childhood needs and desires where rumination was not so deep, but rather instinctual. It’s pure pleasure and pain. I see that. It’s beautiful in its complexity but honestly, why can’t things just be bloody SIMPLE? On second thought, he isn’t exactly ‘forbidden,’ is he? Just highly unattainable. Believe you me I am receiving no ‘high’ off this stupid chase. I’d rather he be mine already.
But I’m not so much like that. I know me, and sure, I’m human I’m ridiculously selfish at times. Yet when it concerns romantic love, I am all giving. It’s all or nothing with me, I will bare my soul to them. I would do anything for that person and that’s a fact. (Remember the newspaper run?) If he says ‘no,’ or ‘sorry’ – however he may phrase it – I would accept it immediately and leave it at that, be his friend and pretend such feelings never took root in my heart and smile warmly, laugh pleasantly and support him when he does decide to chase the girl of his dreams. Because that’s what love does to me. Oh well, I can’t say I’m ‘in love’ with him, just highly infatuated. Despite my feminist beliefs, I am granting him liberty and free reign over our relationship and he doesn’t even KNOW it. I really wish I didn’t feel this way. But why does he have to be so damn wonderful?
This is why I only wanted to be his friend primordially. From the beginning I only wanted to be his friend despite the fact that I knew I liked him deeply, because what am I to expect from the unattainable? I can only expect nothing and everything from him. I want to expect nothing from him and am schooling myself to expect nothing from him because I am aware that my feelings are not reciprocated, this is unrequited, as always. Expecting anything would lead to unbounding disappointment. He already failed twice to meet me, so I’m quite sure I should expect nothing from him. But how can I expect less than everything from someone so beyond anyone I have ever met? How can I expect nothing less than everything from the boy who is so much more a man than all the guys I know put together? How can I tell myself to treat him platonically and expect nothing from someone so wonderful and awe-inspiring? HOW?
Such is my predicament. But I’ll concede, that since I’ve been attempting to change my mindset, I’ve relaxed around him. I’m trying more now than ever to be myself. The other day he informed me that he made it to the debating finals - that was brilliant, excellent and wonderful. It just made me like him even more, I am so proud of him and yet selfishly wish to live my would-be debating glory vicariously through his success. I must attend the finals, and so I began perusing their school website for the date (result was a fail) but discovered, shockingly, a section of the site totally dedicated to him where they promulgated his success as if he were the risen Messiah. I was shocked, awed, and also felt like some idiotic fan girl wowing at his celebrity status. Nevertheless, I could feel an inferiority complex stirring from within me. He had all these other girls at his fingertips, ready and willing to be with him. They were of the same social class, status, education and proximity, who attended the same events with the same interests. They are, dare I say it, compatible in every single way. What would I bring to the table? I have no idea.
I know I’m not going to go on this self-flagellating guilt trip. I’m not going to wallow in self-pity or doubt. That’s highly unattractive and counter-productive when I’m trying to better myself. LOL I feel like Bella when she’s around Edward. Only the envy doesn’t arise from the physical. I know that I must be thankful for at least knowing him personally, this much, anyway. I am thankful for God granting me the gift, the miracle even, of me knowing him at least. He makes me humble myself, but also he instigates this passion and drive within me to reach for my goals NOW. I’ll be eternally grateful to him for that.
The disappointing factor introduces itself when I realise that I’m not a priority in his life. I’m not a priority, I’m probably a good, reliable friend who he can flirt with. There’s potential there but considering the way his priorities are arranged, relationships are far from his mind. In expecting nothing from him, that fact is slowly taking residence in my brain and I’m slowly accepting it. Of course I’ll go on liking him, it’s fun, and I’ll enjoy the solitary honeymoon high while it’s still happening, but as much as I want to wish for it, I doubt I’ll get with him. There’s always hope though :P But I keep my emotions in check like I have a personal Jasper and I make sure that I don’t hope too much.
Wow, I can still remember the first time I ever saw him. Vividly. He entered the room and whoosh, suddenly his presence was filling it. When he began talking I was scared shitless, I knew immediately that Stef was going to lose. He awed me, I never knew any one remotely like him. He was amazing, in true form. Physically, I thought he was quite handsome, although someone I’d never personally go for, he was too unattainable, nothing would amount from it even if by some stretch of the imagination I managed to talk to him. He wowed me. I left their school happy and blushing. He was amazing. I memorised his name immediately. Of course, this is the abridged version.
I’ll continue this blog later. I’ll vlog the rest. I think I’ll be able to document it better that way.
But this was good release.
Until next time –
- Deeh xoxox
Goodness, I’ve developed a ridiculous tangent. My apologies, I digress. I am not blogging today to discuss books. When one has six days without school or exams, aside from reading, one suddenly obtains a ridiculous stretch of time in which to think. When you’re me, you think superfluously. I think I think too much. Even now, I’m over-thinking things. Anyway, yes, I was thinking extensively, and also had a huge chunk of time to cultivate quixotic emotions especially when one reads a novel such as Breaking Dawn. (Honestly, boys, adopt Twilight as your female BIBLE and Edward Cullen as your heathen-god leader.) Coalesced with such rumination I have delivered myself to the onset of an unhealthy, festering inferiority complex. I won’t indulge in such inferiority complex, I believe, well, I hope I am more intelligent than that self-flagellation. Life’s a bitch like that, but what can one do but eat one’s own damn lemons? Other than making them into lemonade and selling it for fifty-cents a cup, of course (just the mark of my metaphorical thinking in line with our capitalist society).
Quixotic emotions, limerence and lime, inferiority complex? Who else could I be referring to, but him of course? Built in or programmed into the female psyche is the ridiculous tendency to analyse things. It’s brilliant when one is in an English class, but disastrous, stressful and arduous when such analytical ability is immediately (and unfortunately instinctively) utilised in the courting arena. So we play the courting game. I’ve decided to blog and document everything relevant I possibly can from the moment I met him. I need this cathartic release. He’s dominating my thoughts and that won’t do. I will not accept that. I am an independent woman whose mind does not require subjugation by the dominion of a guy, well, man, really. I’m hoping that releasing these thoughts and ponderings from my system will reduce the thoughts of him swimming around my head.
Him. That’s all I’ll dare refer to him as. Him. He’s something beyond comprehension. You really know how to pick’em Dana. Really. Why couldn’t choose someone a little less, unattainable? A little closer to this planet? A little more in my own world, a little more convenient, less far beyond my league? Sometimes I think that this can only end in heartache. This isn’t about ‘the thrill of the chase’ either. I’d rather that there BE NO CHASE. I wish life were as simple as imprinting. Sure, by human nature, the forbidden is exciting and alluring. It’s arousing and intoxicating. Why do you think I love DHr fanfiction so much? The temptation of the forbidden, of the unattainable is potent and carnal, regressing us back to our childhood needs and desires where rumination was not so deep, but rather instinctual. It’s pure pleasure and pain. I see that. It’s beautiful in its complexity but honestly, why can’t things just be bloody SIMPLE? On second thought, he isn’t exactly ‘forbidden,’ is he? Just highly unattainable. Believe you me I am receiving no ‘high’ off this stupid chase. I’d rather he be mine already.
But I’m not so much like that. I know me, and sure, I’m human I’m ridiculously selfish at times. Yet when it concerns romantic love, I am all giving. It’s all or nothing with me, I will bare my soul to them. I would do anything for that person and that’s a fact. (Remember the newspaper run?) If he says ‘no,’ or ‘sorry’ – however he may phrase it – I would accept it immediately and leave it at that, be his friend and pretend such feelings never took root in my heart and smile warmly, laugh pleasantly and support him when he does decide to chase the girl of his dreams. Because that’s what love does to me. Oh well, I can’t say I’m ‘in love’ with him, just highly infatuated. Despite my feminist beliefs, I am granting him liberty and free reign over our relationship and he doesn’t even KNOW it. I really wish I didn’t feel this way. But why does he have to be so damn wonderful?
This is why I only wanted to be his friend primordially. From the beginning I only wanted to be his friend despite the fact that I knew I liked him deeply, because what am I to expect from the unattainable? I can only expect nothing and everything from him. I want to expect nothing from him and am schooling myself to expect nothing from him because I am aware that my feelings are not reciprocated, this is unrequited, as always. Expecting anything would lead to unbounding disappointment. He already failed twice to meet me, so I’m quite sure I should expect nothing from him. But how can I expect less than everything from someone so beyond anyone I have ever met? How can I expect nothing less than everything from the boy who is so much more a man than all the guys I know put together? How can I tell myself to treat him platonically and expect nothing from someone so wonderful and awe-inspiring? HOW?
Such is my predicament. But I’ll concede, that since I’ve been attempting to change my mindset, I’ve relaxed around him. I’m trying more now than ever to be myself. The other day he informed me that he made it to the debating finals - that was brilliant, excellent and wonderful. It just made me like him even more, I am so proud of him and yet selfishly wish to live my would-be debating glory vicariously through his success. I must attend the finals, and so I began perusing their school website for the date (result was a fail) but discovered, shockingly, a section of the site totally dedicated to him where they promulgated his success as if he were the risen Messiah. I was shocked, awed, and also felt like some idiotic fan girl wowing at his celebrity status. Nevertheless, I could feel an inferiority complex stirring from within me. He had all these other girls at his fingertips, ready and willing to be with him. They were of the same social class, status, education and proximity, who attended the same events with the same interests. They are, dare I say it, compatible in every single way. What would I bring to the table? I have no idea.
I know I’m not going to go on this self-flagellating guilt trip. I’m not going to wallow in self-pity or doubt. That’s highly unattractive and counter-productive when I’m trying to better myself. LOL I feel like Bella when she’s around Edward. Only the envy doesn’t arise from the physical. I know that I must be thankful for at least knowing him personally, this much, anyway. I am thankful for God granting me the gift, the miracle even, of me knowing him at least. He makes me humble myself, but also he instigates this passion and drive within me to reach for my goals NOW. I’ll be eternally grateful to him for that.
The disappointing factor introduces itself when I realise that I’m not a priority in his life. I’m not a priority, I’m probably a good, reliable friend who he can flirt with. There’s potential there but considering the way his priorities are arranged, relationships are far from his mind. In expecting nothing from him, that fact is slowly taking residence in my brain and I’m slowly accepting it. Of course I’ll go on liking him, it’s fun, and I’ll enjoy the solitary honeymoon high while it’s still happening, but as much as I want to wish for it, I doubt I’ll get with him. There’s always hope though :P But I keep my emotions in check like I have a personal Jasper and I make sure that I don’t hope too much.
Wow, I can still remember the first time I ever saw him. Vividly. He entered the room and whoosh, suddenly his presence was filling it. When he began talking I was scared shitless, I knew immediately that Stef was going to lose. He awed me, I never knew any one remotely like him. He was amazing, in true form. Physically, I thought he was quite handsome, although someone I’d never personally go for, he was too unattainable, nothing would amount from it even if by some stretch of the imagination I managed to talk to him. He wowed me. I left their school happy and blushing. He was amazing. I memorised his name immediately. Of course, this is the abridged version.
I’ll continue this blog later. I’ll vlog the rest. I think I’ll be able to document it better that way.
But this was good release.
Until next time –
- Deeh xoxox
Monday, 25 August 2008
What am I to You?
Thinking about him depresses me.
This, basically epitomises what I'm feeling right now.
What am I to You? - Norah Jones
What am I to you
Tell me darling true
To me you are the sea
Vast as you can be
And deep the shade of blue
When you're feeling low
To whom else do you go
See I cry if you hurt
I'd give you my last shirt
Because I love you so
If my sky should fall
Would you even call
Opened up my heart
I never want to part
I'm giving you the ball
When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
I love you when you're blue
Tell me darlin true
What am I to you
Yah well if my sky should fall
Would you even call
Opened up my heart
Never want to part
I'm giving you the ball
When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
Could you find a love in me
Could you carve me in a tree
Don't fill my heart with lies
I will you love when you're blue
Tell me darlin true
What am I to you
What am I to you
What am I to you
The worst thing is, is that I think I may already know the answer to that question - and I know I don't like it.
Well, it could be worse.
He could be... urgh, no. I won't go there.
This, basically epitomises what I'm feeling right now.
What am I to You? - Norah Jones
What am I to you
Tell me darling true
To me you are the sea
Vast as you can be
And deep the shade of blue
When you're feeling low
To whom else do you go
See I cry if you hurt
I'd give you my last shirt
Because I love you so
If my sky should fall
Would you even call
Opened up my heart
I never want to part
I'm giving you the ball
When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
I love you when you're blue
Tell me darlin true
What am I to you
Yah well if my sky should fall
Would you even call
Opened up my heart
Never want to part
I'm giving you the ball
When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
Could you find a love in me
Could you carve me in a tree
Don't fill my heart with lies
I will you love when you're blue
Tell me darlin true
What am I to you
What am I to you
What am I to you
The worst thing is, is that I think I may already know the answer to that question - and I know I don't like it.
Well, it could be worse.
He could be... urgh, no. I won't go there.
Friday, 22 August 2008
How Charming.
Oh how charming is this.
My week, which had commenced with utter euphoria, has gone TO HELL.
Hello Dante, I think I may be living in your inferno, how's that for Divine Comedy?
I should stop the depresssing puns.
I mean it's just been the accumulation of events and shitty weather and my PMS. Urgh.
Okay, so let's get Mr. Political Cognoscenti out of the way. Firstly, it does concern me that one of the brightest political minds of our generation is about AS DENSE AS A BLACK HOLE! OR:
a) he really is simply that dense.
b)He's lazy.
c)He's scared of taking a risk
or d) (and perhaps the most probable of all) he simply DOES. NOT. LIKE. ME.
Then, why, may I ask, all the flirting?
Urgh. I'm up against T's School Captain here! I am no competition whatsoever. urgh. So depressing. And isn't it lovely how they MATCH?? ggr. I mean seriously, if YOU HAD SPORTING COMMITMENTS WHY KEEP UP the pretence?
Meh I'm tired. I've lost my flair for blogging.
The Murray goes and scoffs at me with her condescension.
Go fuck a whale.
Go to Japan, get skewered and be fed to populace.
My week, which had commenced with utter euphoria, has gone TO HELL.
Hello Dante, I think I may be living in your inferno, how's that for Divine Comedy?
I should stop the depresssing puns.
I mean it's just been the accumulation of events and shitty weather and my PMS. Urgh.
Okay, so let's get Mr. Political Cognoscenti out of the way. Firstly, it does concern me that one of the brightest political minds of our generation is about AS DENSE AS A BLACK HOLE! OR:
a) he really is simply that dense.
b)He's lazy.
c)He's scared of taking a risk
or d) (and perhaps the most probable of all) he simply DOES. NOT. LIKE. ME.
Then, why, may I ask, all the flirting?
Urgh. I'm up against T's School Captain here! I am no competition whatsoever. urgh. So depressing. And isn't it lovely how they MATCH?? ggr. I mean seriously, if YOU HAD SPORTING COMMITMENTS WHY KEEP UP the pretence?
Meh I'm tired. I've lost my flair for blogging.
The Murray goes and scoffs at me with her condescension.
Go fuck a whale.
Go to Japan, get skewered and be fed to populace.
POST-TRIAL Euphoria
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
POST-TRIAL euphoria =D
Current mood: vibrant
Category: Writing and Poetry
Aaah post-exam euphoria is the BEST thing...
I'd never sully myself with illicit substances, however I do estimate that the feeling that I am experiencing at the moment emulates an LSD experience. "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds..." and I'm even breaking out into song... with the Beatles. Ok. Moving on. LOL I am very relaxed at the moment, and rather giddy. Ever fed a child approximately the entire Switzerland's worth of chocolate?
It's like that.
If you haven't, well I would supplement a video of Louie after having consumed a glass of pure, unadulterated, undiluted red cordial. Believe you me the effects were both disastrous and entertaining. Imagine a child spring up suddenly and start running in a circle. Screaming. For about five minutes. Straight. The video is on my phone, and my phone is still being the paragon of technological malfunction after I dropped it in the shower the other week. Yes, I'm highly aware of how bizarre that appears. In a way, that makes me seem like an idiotic freak that uses their phone in the shower. No, I shall explain. In a nutshell, being the consistent person that I am who places upon the highest pedestal the virtue of punctuality - I like to know how long my showers are. Ergo I habitually check the time when I'm in there – by use of my phone. It's also my bid for the environment and our steadily depleting water supply.
Wow, ok, that was a major tangent.
I'll begin with the exam today. It was highly improved in comparison to yesterday's sordid affair. Area of Study I think was hitherto the major stuff (insert more colourful language) up of my life. I died a little inside having to BUTCHER, masticate and by way of inky projectile vomit produce a bloody 'Letter to the Editor' that both conformed to the damn criteria and somehow bore some resemblance to my original pre-written short story.
It was both painful and grotesque.
Out of 15, I do believe that I'd receive somewhere around a 5. I can simply envision Grumble or Rubello seating themselves cosily in the second-level staffroom, easing themselves into a Godfather-esque wing-chair adjacent to toasty/roaring fireplace (not that we have one of those in the staffroom lol, that is entirely secret faculty domain – so clandestine in fact that I think they conduct occult ceremonies in there – I jest) and positively itching with anticipation as they eye my exam paper with burgeoning interest. Voraciously, their eyes rove over the student number and downwards as they begin reading my pile of meaningless crap. This is where the scotch comes in. And of course the scotch comes in. You NEED SCOTCH to complete the scene. Not to mention I do believe that my English teachers would undoubtedly saturate themselves with liquid luck when they discover that their best student, whom of which they had invested such hope in, stumbled upon an astronomically epic FAIL in her HSC Trial Exam.
At least it was the Trial and not the actual HSC. If it were the HSC, a blunder like that would require Absinthe - or a trip across the road to Westmead Hospital's psyche ward.
Would you believe that whilst traversing to Japanese, Miss approaches me right with, "Dana! How'd you find the exam?"
I hesitated and pondered a diplomatic answer, "...enjoyable. I laughed when I read that we had to write a radio interview transcript, I had fun with that."
"Ah yes, we went through it in class, I'm glad. Er, were you in that class when I said 'Aw they'd never give you a 'Letter to the Editor?'" She asked bashfully. It took all my eye-muscle strength NOT to glare at her.
"Yes Miss. Indeed I was."
"I'm so sorry, I told you that and I can't believe that you got one yesterday – I'm so sorry I had no idea."
"Haha that's okay, although when I looked at the question, all I wanted to do was cry."
At least she apologised. That's more than I can ask for. Meanwhile, I'll keep exhausting the dictionary of its epithets every time Grumble decides to pop into my peripheral vision. Don't think that would make a very pleasant homeroom period every morning.
The critical analysis of inner-journey itself was... interesting – 'okay' at best. I didn't integrate as smoothly as I initially intended due to time constraints but I answered the question. My hand couldn't write bloody fast enough. I've discovered my limit – five pages in forty-minutes. That's it, so in comparison to those who like to write eight, my work has to be QUALITY over QUANTITY. I had to sacrifice three paragraphs of my initial essay. Damn. I really liked those paragraphs. Okay, lol I'm working myself up into a fit – it's not like someone DIED lol. Regardless, the Short Answer Comprehension was excellent, great texts in which I could harness my bullshitting prowess and have the audacity to call it 'analysis.' I am not concerned at all about that particular segment.
And today? Blade Runner/Brave New World – LOVED IT. The question was indeed challenging – but not impossible. I guess the only reason as to why I loved it is because I loved the texts lol. I adored Brave New World for all its ironic sci-fi-ness and it's dystopic appeal. Oh my word let me tell you about how much I LOVE utopic/dystopic fiction. It's like my bread and butter. Blade Runner, although initially I hadn't warmed to it, but after analysing it I can appreciate it for its warped beauty and of course its sci-fi! =D "More human than human." I love that quote. I'd love the song too, if only it didn't sound like there was a woman having sex with God knows who in the introduction of the song. King Lear was debatable. The question was a character question so it wasn't too difficult, just extensive.
'Telling the Truth' was about a major travesty as my 'Letter to the Editor' was. This time I attempted to incorporate more elements of the text type rather than simply giving it lip-service. I think in adhering to the text type, I MAJORLY sacrificed the quality of my analysis. =( At least I had fun with it. As previously mentioned, it was a radio transcript. Could they be any more ABSTRACT? But I was enjoying myself, thinking of songs to insert randomly. And since the Module was 'Telling the Truth,' I went with it.
[Insert song break here. Song: 'Confessions' – by Usher]
LOL. And when I finished my transcript:
[Fade into song here. Song: 'Don't Lie' – Black-Eyed-Peas]
Yeah, I had fun. Now I'm having fun listening to my VICTORY MUSIC! System of a Down! You'd think with my musical appreciation that System of A Down is entirely incongruous to what I usually listen to (jazz, classical, alternative etc.) But Dyanne is like my oracle of SOAD and, oh come on! Like Chop Suey isn't a victory song! I feel like moshing, or something. (Dyz I have fallen in love with that 'Revenga,' oh my word if System was on Guitar Hero I'd die. This afternoon I was giggling and laughing, I had felt the most elated than I have in a rather long time. I also learned 'Love Song' by Sara Bareilles on Piano, all I need to do is learn the lyrics. Very therapeutic.
But alas, I have homework to complete.
Until next time,
Dana xoxox
POST-TRIAL euphoria =D
Current mood: vibrant
Category: Writing and Poetry
Aaah post-exam euphoria is the BEST thing...
I'd never sully myself with illicit substances, however I do estimate that the feeling that I am experiencing at the moment emulates an LSD experience. "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds..." and I'm even breaking out into song... with the Beatles. Ok. Moving on. LOL I am very relaxed at the moment, and rather giddy. Ever fed a child approximately the entire Switzerland's worth of chocolate?
It's like that.
If you haven't, well I would supplement a video of Louie after having consumed a glass of pure, unadulterated, undiluted red cordial. Believe you me the effects were both disastrous and entertaining. Imagine a child spring up suddenly and start running in a circle. Screaming. For about five minutes. Straight. The video is on my phone, and my phone is still being the paragon of technological malfunction after I dropped it in the shower the other week. Yes, I'm highly aware of how bizarre that appears. In a way, that makes me seem like an idiotic freak that uses their phone in the shower. No, I shall explain. In a nutshell, being the consistent person that I am who places upon the highest pedestal the virtue of punctuality - I like to know how long my showers are. Ergo I habitually check the time when I'm in there – by use of my phone. It's also my bid for the environment and our steadily depleting water supply.
Wow, ok, that was a major tangent.
I'll begin with the exam today. It was highly improved in comparison to yesterday's sordid affair. Area of Study I think was hitherto the major stuff (insert more colourful language) up of my life. I died a little inside having to BUTCHER, masticate and by way of inky projectile vomit produce a bloody 'Letter to the Editor' that both conformed to the damn criteria and somehow bore some resemblance to my original pre-written short story.
It was both painful and grotesque.
Out of 15, I do believe that I'd receive somewhere around a 5. I can simply envision Grumble or Rubello seating themselves cosily in the second-level staffroom, easing themselves into a Godfather-esque wing-chair adjacent to toasty/roaring fireplace (not that we have one of those in the staffroom lol, that is entirely secret faculty domain – so clandestine in fact that I think they conduct occult ceremonies in there – I jest) and positively itching with anticipation as they eye my exam paper with burgeoning interest. Voraciously, their eyes rove over the student number and downwards as they begin reading my pile of meaningless crap. This is where the scotch comes in. And of course the scotch comes in. You NEED SCOTCH to complete the scene. Not to mention I do believe that my English teachers would undoubtedly saturate themselves with liquid luck when they discover that their best student, whom of which they had invested such hope in, stumbled upon an astronomically epic FAIL in her HSC Trial Exam.
At least it was the Trial and not the actual HSC. If it were the HSC, a blunder like that would require Absinthe - or a trip across the road to Westmead Hospital's psyche ward.
Would you believe that whilst traversing to Japanese, Miss approaches me right with, "Dana! How'd you find the exam?"
I hesitated and pondered a diplomatic answer, "...enjoyable. I laughed when I read that we had to write a radio interview transcript, I had fun with that."
"Ah yes, we went through it in class, I'm glad. Er, were you in that class when I said 'Aw they'd never give you a 'Letter to the Editor?'" She asked bashfully. It took all my eye-muscle strength NOT to glare at her.
"Yes Miss. Indeed I was."
"I'm so sorry, I told you that and I can't believe that you got one yesterday – I'm so sorry I had no idea."
"Haha that's okay, although when I looked at the question, all I wanted to do was cry."
At least she apologised. That's more than I can ask for. Meanwhile, I'll keep exhausting the dictionary of its epithets every time Grumble decides to pop into my peripheral vision. Don't think that would make a very pleasant homeroom period every morning.
The critical analysis of inner-journey itself was... interesting – 'okay' at best. I didn't integrate as smoothly as I initially intended due to time constraints but I answered the question. My hand couldn't write bloody fast enough. I've discovered my limit – five pages in forty-minutes. That's it, so in comparison to those who like to write eight, my work has to be QUALITY over QUANTITY. I had to sacrifice three paragraphs of my initial essay. Damn. I really liked those paragraphs. Okay, lol I'm working myself up into a fit – it's not like someone DIED lol. Regardless, the Short Answer Comprehension was excellent, great texts in which I could harness my bullshitting prowess and have the audacity to call it 'analysis.' I am not concerned at all about that particular segment.
And today? Blade Runner/Brave New World – LOVED IT. The question was indeed challenging – but not impossible. I guess the only reason as to why I loved it is because I loved the texts lol. I adored Brave New World for all its ironic sci-fi-ness and it's dystopic appeal. Oh my word let me tell you about how much I LOVE utopic/dystopic fiction. It's like my bread and butter. Blade Runner, although initially I hadn't warmed to it, but after analysing it I can appreciate it for its warped beauty and of course its sci-fi! =D "More human than human." I love that quote. I'd love the song too, if only it didn't sound like there was a woman having sex with God knows who in the introduction of the song. King Lear was debatable. The question was a character question so it wasn't too difficult, just extensive.
'Telling the Truth' was about a major travesty as my 'Letter to the Editor' was. This time I attempted to incorporate more elements of the text type rather than simply giving it lip-service. I think in adhering to the text type, I MAJORLY sacrificed the quality of my analysis. =( At least I had fun with it. As previously mentioned, it was a radio transcript. Could they be any more ABSTRACT? But I was enjoying myself, thinking of songs to insert randomly. And since the Module was 'Telling the Truth,' I went with it.
[Insert song break here. Song: 'Confessions' – by Usher]
LOL. And when I finished my transcript:
[Fade into song here. Song: 'Don't Lie' – Black-Eyed-Peas]
Yeah, I had fun. Now I'm having fun listening to my VICTORY MUSIC! System of a Down! You'd think with my musical appreciation that System of A Down is entirely incongruous to what I usually listen to (jazz, classical, alternative etc.) But Dyanne is like my oracle of SOAD and, oh come on! Like Chop Suey isn't a victory song! I feel like moshing, or something. (Dyz I have fallen in love with that 'Revenga,' oh my word if System was on Guitar Hero I'd die. This afternoon I was giggling and laughing, I had felt the most elated than I have in a rather long time. I also learned 'Love Song' by Sara Bareilles on Piano, all I need to do is learn the lyrics. Very therapeutic.
But alas, I have homework to complete.
Until next time,
Dana xoxox
Politically Revolutionary Fiction is...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Political Revolutionary Fiction is...
Current mood: blah
Category: News and Politics
... highly intriguing.
I would like to proudly promulgate (ah, the damned alliteration), for both my own sense of satisfaction and vanity, that I have as of 30/07/08 11:10pm have alas finished reading 'Noli Me Tangere' by Jose Rizal.
After 63 Chapters, 278 external notes, several passages in Latin and innumerous shifts in writing tense, I have finally completed it.
It was rather compelling as I was reading along, although his unique literary style was something to grow accustomed to. The utterly theocratic system of Philippines at the time was interesting to both exploit and explore from a modernist perspective. It calls to mind Arthur Miller's 'The Crucible' and how McCarthyism was able to be manipulated allegorically within the theocracy of Puritan society. Having completed reading the novel, it is completely lucid to me as to why it was both banned and regarded as a subversive novel, and Rizal branded as a subvert.
SPEAKING OF SUBVERTING THE SYSTEM - Here's my random rant for the day! (LOL That sounded like a segment on Rove, most likely headed my Husey or Helliar) My illustrious, gargantuan 'educator' of Studies of Religion has completely undermined the leaders system. She's a complete subvert in terms of both our spiritual nourishment and the established paradigms of our school. Excuse my plebeian use of the 'Harry Potter' analogy, but that woman is uncannily like Professor Umbridge, so much to the point that it's freaking scary. The similarities are striking, indeed. Many a member of my religion class have vehemently expressed their desires to resort to violence and 'shoot' her.
I do believe that the correct verb would be 'harpoon.'
Despite my human/environmental rights tendencies, I've discovered that Japan has alas a legitimate reason to continue whaling.
Ok. That was highly malicious. My apologies.
But Dyanne. I know you totally would have laughed.
Oh my word. I just had a thought. I could have used 'The Crucible' and 'Noli Me Tangere' as additional material together! Shaizer! I could have! It's a shame, really. A multitude of lazy people are using 'The Crucible.' But. But. 'The Crucible' and 'The Noli' fit like hand to glove! Hmm... it'll be ok. I have my political cartoons. Yet honestly, just imagine, what a politically analytical essay that would have been!
Political Revolutionary Fiction is...
Current mood: blah
Category: News and Politics
... highly intriguing.
I would like to proudly promulgate (ah, the damned alliteration), for both my own sense of satisfaction and vanity, that I have as of 30/07/08 11:10pm have alas finished reading 'Noli Me Tangere' by Jose Rizal.
After 63 Chapters, 278 external notes, several passages in Latin and innumerous shifts in writing tense, I have finally completed it.
It was rather compelling as I was reading along, although his unique literary style was something to grow accustomed to. The utterly theocratic system of Philippines at the time was interesting to both exploit and explore from a modernist perspective. It calls to mind Arthur Miller's 'The Crucible' and how McCarthyism was able to be manipulated allegorically within the theocracy of Puritan society. Having completed reading the novel, it is completely lucid to me as to why it was both banned and regarded as a subversive novel, and Rizal branded as a subvert.
SPEAKING OF SUBVERTING THE SYSTEM - Here's my random rant for the day! (LOL That sounded like a segment on Rove, most likely headed my Husey or Helliar) My illustrious, gargantuan 'educator' of Studies of Religion has completely undermined the leaders system. She's a complete subvert in terms of both our spiritual nourishment and the established paradigms of our school. Excuse my plebeian use of the 'Harry Potter' analogy, but that woman is uncannily like Professor Umbridge, so much to the point that it's freaking scary. The similarities are striking, indeed. Many a member of my religion class have vehemently expressed their desires to resort to violence and 'shoot' her.
I do believe that the correct verb would be 'harpoon.'
Despite my human/environmental rights tendencies, I've discovered that Japan has alas a legitimate reason to continue whaling.
Ok. That was highly malicious. My apologies.
But Dyanne. I know you totally would have laughed.
Oh my word. I just had a thought. I could have used 'The Crucible' and 'Noli Me Tangere' as additional material together! Shaizer! I could have! It's a shame, really. A multitude of lazy people are using 'The Crucible.' But. But. 'The Crucible' and 'The Noli' fit like hand to glove! Hmm... it'll be ok. I have my political cartoons. Yet honestly, just imagine, what a politically analytical essay that would have been!
WYD Day 5 and 6
Thursday, July 31, 2008
WYD Day 5 and 6
Current mood: anxious
Category: Religion and Philosophy
Ok. I've typed half of my account up for this. It's all on a word document and will be up here soon. At the moment I,
a) Generally can't be bothered
and
b) HAVE ENGLISH HSC TRIALS TO IMMERSE MYSELF WITH!!!!!!!
So blogging is of course, approximately fourth priority in terms of Trials, other schoolwork and Parish Newsletter writing/editing.
However, because I do enjoy and prefer to have things in concise chronological order, this notice is simply in here so I am able to permit myself to blog continuously without feeling any sense of obsessive/compulsive guilt at my lack of chronological- correctness. For now, I bid thee adieu and return to the troglodytical disposition I like to call 'intense study time.'
WYD Day 5 and 6
Current mood: anxious
Category: Religion and Philosophy
Ok. I've typed half of my account up for this. It's all on a word document and will be up here soon. At the moment I,
a) Generally can't be bothered
and
b) HAVE ENGLISH HSC TRIALS TO IMMERSE MYSELF WITH!!!!!!!
So blogging is of course, approximately fourth priority in terms of Trials, other schoolwork and Parish Newsletter writing/editing.
However, because I do enjoy and prefer to have things in concise chronological order, this notice is simply in here so I am able to permit myself to blog continuously without feeling any sense of obsessive/compulsive guilt at my lack of chronological- correctness. For now, I bid thee adieu and return to the troglodytical disposition I like to call 'intense study time.'
WYD Day 4
Saturday, July 19, 2008
WYD Day 4
Current mood: bouncy
Category: Religion and Philosophy
CHRISTIAN MOSHPITS are the best way to meet people. xD
Today I brought my Camera! I made up for lost time and began taking photos like mad, and took photos with new friends and almost everyone I randomly hugged. It was the Stations of the Cross today and once again we were designated an area where both our vision and aural clarity were obscured with incovenient placement of both screens and speakers. Ergo, the youth group didn't really absorb or engage themselves with the actual Stations of the Cross. It was a shame though, and I was also quite disappointed in myself for being too sleepy. I fell asleep on the floor and on Veronica's shoulder during the commencement of it. When I woke up I realised that they had only accomplished one station, which wasn't too bad I guess. The acting was beautiful though, great acting and I managed to acquire some close up shots of the action. Usually I'd sleep on the way from Blacktown to Central, but today Tim came with us. Of course, when Tim's around - life's a party. Him and his excellent ear were able to grasp that Croatian Alleluia so of course our youth group adopted that "ALLELUUUUIIAAAAAA!!!" with relentless zeal. We sang it all the way to Central, even contriving our own lyrics LOL. "Paulie is dry!!!! PAULIE IS DRY!" Dry. The word of the day. "Dry" according to Jhunlee and Joan, means "Lame." It was an incredible start to the day.
Oh and I gave my question to the Bishop this morning! He didn't answer it correctly though - he wrote off my question merely as a question of semantics and linguistics more so than the revolution of religion. For those of you wondering, Tim and I had this COLOSSAL fight over theology and Catholicism a few weeks ago (I had never been more insulted in my whole life) about whether changing the lyrics and passages in the Bible from "HIM" to "GOD" really mattered. I said that it made God more relatable, more generic and equal for women rather than permeating the Bible with patriarchal undertones. Tim's argument was, was that it was changing religion to suit the person, not the person conforming and rising to the challenges of their religion. It is a valid argument, I understand. But honestly "HIM" to "GOD" is not a massive thing. It's just semantics. My query to the Bishop was, 'What is the Church's stance on those specific alterations in this century, is it merely giving concession or accomodating for the rise in feminism, or the New Age concept of God as an entity rather than a person?' He didn't answer it, I'm afraid, so alas it is one again unreconciled. Doesn't matter really, I'm not too bothered by it these days. There were other excellent questions such as, 'How do we reconcile 'Free Will' and Predestination?'
I saw heaps of people today from school. All you Rooty Hill YFC people! LOL I'm hugging Mary, MJ, Anne, Kaye and as Anne walks by she's like "Have you finished the Maths Assignment yet?"
"NOPE! Questions 1 a) and b)"
"HI-FIVE!"
The concert was excellent though.As I said, Christian Moshpits are so funny! This whole group of guys walked passed and they were discussing starting a chant. This guy's like "I say, "How Long?" and you say "Too Long!"" so they decided to practice and the leader was like, "How Long?!" nobody answered, so I yelled randomly in passing, "TOO LONG!" They all cracked up, and cheered, giving me Hi-fives! xD They finally got Hillsong to play - with music we actually KNEW. LOL Everyone was moshing to "One Way Jesus." I love that song. You could scream it out at the top of your lungs and you'd still sound in melody and time. It awesome dancing and talking to people along the way, forming a massive Conga Line of the youth group and this guy was like "When does it end???" They also had a drama going on with Lifehouse's "Everything" playing in the background. I LOVE THAT SONG. Too bad no one around me knew it, so I was there singing passionately and Michael is like "HOW DO YOU KNOW THE LYRICS???" I must say, the drama was EXCELLENT. So I'm a corny, romantic, puddle of mush inside, and I almost cried. Yes. I'll admit to that. I became emotional. In my defence, I'll say that my faith is an integral part of me. We couldn't stay for the rest of the concert though, if we wanted to be home before 12, we had to leave. On the train - another party! We sang that Croatian Alleluia once again (I pitied the commuters), all the guys lost their voice and we finally created an OASIS chant. We sang so many songs and "This little light" went on for a century and a half.
It was an awesome night! Awesome experiences. Very cold though. Toni was clinging to me in desperation. She was hugging me so tightly for warmth that people began to think we were lesbian. No, lol we were just freezing. But Toni is PERFECT hugging height - not to mention heaps of people there have awesome hugs! Took heaps of photos, will upload soon. But I must go, I have to pack my bag for tomorrow - sleeping under the stars!!! WOO! I'm so excited! But the ten km walk with all my stuff? Not so much. But it's for my faith, I must remind myself. I also need to get a decent sleep for once! Especially since tomorrow will be a LOOONG DAY.
Goodnight!! :)
Dana XOXOXOXOX
WYD Day 4
Current mood: bouncy
Category: Religion and Philosophy
CHRISTIAN MOSHPITS are the best way to meet people. xD
Today I brought my Camera! I made up for lost time and began taking photos like mad, and took photos with new friends and almost everyone I randomly hugged. It was the Stations of the Cross today and once again we were designated an area where both our vision and aural clarity were obscured with incovenient placement of both screens and speakers. Ergo, the youth group didn't really absorb or engage themselves with the actual Stations of the Cross. It was a shame though, and I was also quite disappointed in myself for being too sleepy. I fell asleep on the floor and on Veronica's shoulder during the commencement of it. When I woke up I realised that they had only accomplished one station, which wasn't too bad I guess. The acting was beautiful though, great acting and I managed to acquire some close up shots of the action. Usually I'd sleep on the way from Blacktown to Central, but today Tim came with us. Of course, when Tim's around - life's a party. Him and his excellent ear were able to grasp that Croatian Alleluia so of course our youth group adopted that "ALLELUUUUIIAAAAAA!!!" with relentless zeal. We sang it all the way to Central, even contriving our own lyrics LOL. "Paulie is dry!!!! PAULIE IS DRY!" Dry. The word of the day. "Dry" according to Jhunlee and Joan, means "Lame." It was an incredible start to the day.
Oh and I gave my question to the Bishop this morning! He didn't answer it correctly though - he wrote off my question merely as a question of semantics and linguistics more so than the revolution of religion. For those of you wondering, Tim and I had this COLOSSAL fight over theology and Catholicism a few weeks ago (I had never been more insulted in my whole life) about whether changing the lyrics and passages in the Bible from "HIM" to "GOD" really mattered. I said that it made God more relatable, more generic and equal for women rather than permeating the Bible with patriarchal undertones. Tim's argument was, was that it was changing religion to suit the person, not the person conforming and rising to the challenges of their religion. It is a valid argument, I understand. But honestly "HIM" to "GOD" is not a massive thing. It's just semantics. My query to the Bishop was, 'What is the Church's stance on those specific alterations in this century, is it merely giving concession or accomodating for the rise in feminism, or the New Age concept of God as an entity rather than a person?' He didn't answer it, I'm afraid, so alas it is one again unreconciled. Doesn't matter really, I'm not too bothered by it these days. There were other excellent questions such as, 'How do we reconcile 'Free Will' and Predestination?'
I saw heaps of people today from school. All you Rooty Hill YFC people! LOL I'm hugging Mary, MJ, Anne, Kaye and as Anne walks by she's like "Have you finished the Maths Assignment yet?"
"NOPE! Questions 1 a) and b)"
"HI-FIVE!"
The concert was excellent though.As I said, Christian Moshpits are so funny! This whole group of guys walked passed and they were discussing starting a chant. This guy's like "I say, "How Long?" and you say "Too Long!"" so they decided to practice and the leader was like, "How Long?!" nobody answered, so I yelled randomly in passing, "TOO LONG!" They all cracked up, and cheered, giving me Hi-fives! xD They finally got Hillsong to play - with music we actually KNEW. LOL Everyone was moshing to "One Way Jesus." I love that song. You could scream it out at the top of your lungs and you'd still sound in melody and time. It awesome dancing and talking to people along the way, forming a massive Conga Line of the youth group and this guy was like "When does it end???" They also had a drama going on with Lifehouse's "Everything" playing in the background. I LOVE THAT SONG. Too bad no one around me knew it, so I was there singing passionately and Michael is like "HOW DO YOU KNOW THE LYRICS???" I must say, the drama was EXCELLENT. So I'm a corny, romantic, puddle of mush inside, and I almost cried. Yes. I'll admit to that. I became emotional. In my defence, I'll say that my faith is an integral part of me. We couldn't stay for the rest of the concert though, if we wanted to be home before 12, we had to leave. On the train - another party! We sang that Croatian Alleluia once again (I pitied the commuters), all the guys lost their voice and we finally created an OASIS chant. We sang so many songs and "This little light" went on for a century and a half.
It was an awesome night! Awesome experiences. Very cold though. Toni was clinging to me in desperation. She was hugging me so tightly for warmth that people began to think we were lesbian. No, lol we were just freezing. But Toni is PERFECT hugging height - not to mention heaps of people there have awesome hugs! Took heaps of photos, will upload soon. But I must go, I have to pack my bag for tomorrow - sleeping under the stars!!! WOO! I'm so excited! But the ten km walk with all my stuff? Not so much. But it's for my faith, I must remind myself. I also need to get a decent sleep for once! Especially since tomorrow will be a LOOONG DAY.
Goodnight!! :)
Dana XOXOXOXOX
WYD Day 3
Friday, July 18, 2008
WYD Day 3
Current mood: chipper
Category: Religion and Philosophy
Whoaaa the Pope is in Sydney and apparently I was on foxtel! WHOO!
It was a tad expected though, the camera guy was RIGHT IN MY FACE. But of course, I had to look unfazed, nonchalant and entirely in the moment if he were to continue filming me that night on the opening mass. Today was pretty good, the excitement is beginning to recede - the highlight of the day was having the Pope himself about five metres away from me and starting a chant in approximately three different nations! :D This morning, I had to do the reading, quite nervous but it kept me awake and defended my body against the dreaded onset of a microsleep. In any case, standing there before that crowd of people reminded me that I love speeches. Despite the terribly nerve-wrecking prelude to said speech, there's something so exhilarating about being up there, knowing that people are drinking in your every word. Mass was satisfying though, except for the fact that the girl sang "Here I am to Worship" in a very strange and high key that was impossible to both grasp the melody from, and reach with my alto voice.
In any case, we trained it to the city and I slept all the way on Toni's shoulder from Blacktown to Central lol, once again alighted at Wynyard and walked from there to Barangaroo. This walk was MUCH more convenient as the crowds of the Opening Mass weren't present. However it was still fun chanting and singing with pilgrims from across the world. People were chanting their patriotic cries in several languages (the German one is so cool by the way), us Aussies constantly shouted our "Aussie Aussie Aussie - OI, OI, OI" while everyone from the States had their "U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!" Anyway, I thought it would be appropriate in the prelude to the Pope's official arrival to get the "Benedicto!" Chant going (Benedict XVI - Man I want one of those BENEDICTO 16 shirts). So randomly I yelled as loud as I could "BENEDICTO!" *Clapping rhythm follows* at first no one answered and I was like "Shame man! Rejected!" But then a Spanish woman followed with a response of "BENEDICTO!" so there I was leading the chant with the Spanish, American, German, Italian and of course us Aussies. It felt so cool!!!! o(>____<)"o
It was so peculiar at Barangaroo though, it was as though they had sent everyone in Blacktown or the Parramatta Diocese to the same area as I saw heaps of people I knew, met up with them, chatted and everything. The Pope's arrival was weird though, didn't see a thing. But when he was up there talking, he was so cute! (In the non-aesthetic sense, in the old man "aaw" sense, just to clarify) I loved his accent, and his English was much better than expected. The shades of nuance in the terms he used, and the specific connotations with carefully selected words were able to unlock new ideas and meanings to notions I had believed all my life. He gave me new perspective on so many things simultaneously, they were truly words of wisdom. But my gosh! That man is such a linguist! He can speak like 5 or 6 different languages! I envy his linguistic abilities! So fluent! So awesome! When he toured around in that cute Pope-Mobile of his (OMG I think of Mr. Grace and his discomfort at saything those words when I think 'Pope-Mobile') I was like 5m away from him!! Woo! His presence here in Australia very much became a reality to me.
In any case, after his Holiness had left to tour around Sydney we had to wait a while for Bianca, Jay, Joan and Colista to return. Lucky. Got to be on the boat with the Pope. (Lol that almost rhymes!) The concert was alright, but as TJ mentioned, they were all "No Frills" acts. Ones of relative fame, but no one really knew them. It was still cool to jump around with randoms though. GOODNESS! The amount of Free Hugs! I can't believe how many people I've hugged today! Countless! There was that guy today, "Anyone from NSW gets a 75% better hug!" and he hugged me first! XD and then there was that charging group of Melbourne guys! xD Who ran up to us, and then we all ran up to them (the WHOLE youth group) and then this guy really hugged me like bear hug and then the youth group joined in and we were squashed into this patriotic sort of mosh-pit jumping up and down. Only problem was, was that because everyone squashed into us, we were still hugging and jumping and unable to untangle..... unfortunately well, I would NEVER rub up against like that unless we were.... married or something! Thankfully, this is a Catholic event where all sense of the sexual is completely irrelevant and/or ecclipsed by religious energy.
I slept on the ride home, we returned home quite early today! Instead of the usual ten o'clock, we left at approximately seven-thirty. OMG We met the Croatians on the bus! I swear, they are the most jubilant and indefatigably exuberant people you will ever meet! I just spent the last few hours trying to google that "Alleluia" song they always sing. It is the CATCHIEST tune, and they sang non-stop from the station to the bus, on the bus, all the way to the church and even out of the bus. Then they started their dancing circle. And oh! LOL that adorable Croatian guy who asked for the ball, with the broken english but who's HELLA PRO at soccer can play the drums! I just wanted to hop into their dancing circle, but I was too exhausted.
All in all, today was a good day. :) It wasn't as eventful and we didn't do much, but we saw the Pope, and that was an accomplishment. I mean, who can say that they were there on Pope Benedict's first visit to Australia. It's surely something to remember! I must get to bed! Oooh Ill bring my tambourine and a camera tomorrow! To upload take heaps of photos! :D
Until tomorrow!
Dana xoxoxoxox
WYD Day 3
Current mood: chipper
Category: Religion and Philosophy
Whoaaa the Pope is in Sydney and apparently I was on foxtel! WHOO!
It was a tad expected though, the camera guy was RIGHT IN MY FACE. But of course, I had to look unfazed, nonchalant and entirely in the moment if he were to continue filming me that night on the opening mass. Today was pretty good, the excitement is beginning to recede - the highlight of the day was having the Pope himself about five metres away from me and starting a chant in approximately three different nations! :D This morning, I had to do the reading, quite nervous but it kept me awake and defended my body against the dreaded onset of a microsleep. In any case, standing there before that crowd of people reminded me that I love speeches. Despite the terribly nerve-wrecking prelude to said speech, there's something so exhilarating about being up there, knowing that people are drinking in your every word. Mass was satisfying though, except for the fact that the girl sang "Here I am to Worship" in a very strange and high key that was impossible to both grasp the melody from, and reach with my alto voice.
In any case, we trained it to the city and I slept all the way on Toni's shoulder from Blacktown to Central lol, once again alighted at Wynyard and walked from there to Barangaroo. This walk was MUCH more convenient as the crowds of the Opening Mass weren't present. However it was still fun chanting and singing with pilgrims from across the world. People were chanting their patriotic cries in several languages (the German one is so cool by the way), us Aussies constantly shouted our "Aussie Aussie Aussie - OI, OI, OI" while everyone from the States had their "U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!" Anyway, I thought it would be appropriate in the prelude to the Pope's official arrival to get the "Benedicto!" Chant going (Benedict XVI - Man I want one of those BENEDICTO 16 shirts). So randomly I yelled as loud as I could "BENEDICTO!" *Clapping rhythm follows* at first no one answered and I was like "Shame man! Rejected!" But then a Spanish woman followed with a response of "BENEDICTO!" so there I was leading the chant with the Spanish, American, German, Italian and of course us Aussies. It felt so cool!!!! o(>____<)"o
It was so peculiar at Barangaroo though, it was as though they had sent everyone in Blacktown or the Parramatta Diocese to the same area as I saw heaps of people I knew, met up with them, chatted and everything. The Pope's arrival was weird though, didn't see a thing. But when he was up there talking, he was so cute! (In the non-aesthetic sense, in the old man "aaw" sense, just to clarify) I loved his accent, and his English was much better than expected. The shades of nuance in the terms he used, and the specific connotations with carefully selected words were able to unlock new ideas and meanings to notions I had believed all my life. He gave me new perspective on so many things simultaneously, they were truly words of wisdom. But my gosh! That man is such a linguist! He can speak like 5 or 6 different languages! I envy his linguistic abilities! So fluent! So awesome! When he toured around in that cute Pope-Mobile of his (OMG I think of Mr. Grace and his discomfort at saything those words when I think 'Pope-Mobile') I was like 5m away from him!! Woo! His presence here in Australia very much became a reality to me.
In any case, after his Holiness had left to tour around Sydney we had to wait a while for Bianca, Jay, Joan and Colista to return. Lucky. Got to be on the boat with the Pope. (Lol that almost rhymes!) The concert was alright, but as TJ mentioned, they were all "No Frills" acts. Ones of relative fame, but no one really knew them. It was still cool to jump around with randoms though. GOODNESS! The amount of Free Hugs! I can't believe how many people I've hugged today! Countless! There was that guy today, "Anyone from NSW gets a 75% better hug!" and he hugged me first! XD and then there was that charging group of Melbourne guys! xD Who ran up to us, and then we all ran up to them (the WHOLE youth group) and then this guy really hugged me like bear hug and then the youth group joined in and we were squashed into this patriotic sort of mosh-pit jumping up and down. Only problem was, was that because everyone squashed into us, we were still hugging and jumping and unable to untangle..... unfortunately well, I would NEVER rub up against like that unless we were.... married or something! Thankfully, this is a Catholic event where all sense of the sexual is completely irrelevant and/or ecclipsed by religious energy.
I slept on the ride home, we returned home quite early today! Instead of the usual ten o'clock, we left at approximately seven-thirty. OMG We met the Croatians on the bus! I swear, they are the most jubilant and indefatigably exuberant people you will ever meet! I just spent the last few hours trying to google that "Alleluia" song they always sing. It is the CATCHIEST tune, and they sang non-stop from the station to the bus, on the bus, all the way to the church and even out of the bus. Then they started their dancing circle. And oh! LOL that adorable Croatian guy who asked for the ball, with the broken english but who's HELLA PRO at soccer can play the drums! I just wanted to hop into their dancing circle, but I was too exhausted.
All in all, today was a good day. :) It wasn't as eventful and we didn't do much, but we saw the Pope, and that was an accomplishment. I mean, who can say that they were there on Pope Benedict's first visit to Australia. It's surely something to remember! I must get to bed! Oooh Ill bring my tambourine and a camera tomorrow! To upload take heaps of photos! :D
Until tomorrow!
Dana xoxoxoxox
WYD Day Two
Thursday 17th July
OMGAH. TIRED. BACK ACHING.
But damn was today interesting. I woke today absolutely exhausted had to run to church (NOT a good thing on three hours sleep and an empty stomach) to be there on time for the Catechesis and then Jay tells me that I have to bloody perform five songs (NEW SONGS WHICH I HAD NEVER HEARD BY THE WAY) in front of all the American Pilgrims! Can I hear you say, WHAT??? And THEN apparently I hear that I'm reading for mass! What! So of course there I am, empty stomach, completely paralysed with lassitude and I must be so invloved. THANKFULLY However, I managed to learn those songs quick snap and I pawned off my reading to Jeanette so I think I'm reading tomorrow (today, technically).
However the Catechesis session was enlightening and the Bishop was highly entertaining, very amusing man. :) Eventually we survived it, had lunch and travelled to the city via train at approximately 1:00. Man you've gotta love those Croatians! I love their music and their traditional dancing in Hyde Park. Seriously, Hyde Park. That's where I was ALL DAY. Primordially it was due to the youth activities in the area and we were registered to pay homage to the incorrupt body of Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati (I think I got that right). However the line was SO EXTENSIVE. Any longer and it could have measured the cicrumference of the equator and then some! We were waiting tediously for approximately two hours (becoming bored enough to initiate a sort of Irish jig), we had to pass security and THEN we were able to enter the Cathedral. It was so peaceful in there, I could have spent the whole day in there in some meditative bubble of quiet reflection.
On other notes though, it was excellent unexpectedly meeting friends there and of course making thousands of new ones! In the terribly and exhaustingly long wait for dinner we lined the paths of Hyde Park and decided to treat EVERYONE that walked passed with a celebrity welcome, rushing to greet them and hi-fiving and hugging randoms. "Spreading the love" as it were. The nuns watched with amusement and loved what we were doing. Growing up a devout Catholic in such a diverse world, it's comforting to know that there's so many people who share what you believe! Seriously, this has been the best way to meet people - run up to them and hug them! They were all so lovely! I would speak more about it but I am so exanimate at the moment and I have to practice my reading for tomorrow!
Okay, really have to get to bed.
Oh yeah! OMG The train home! We were the loudest carriage! Singing and dancing with all these Iraqi pilgrims! They were so fun!! PARTY ON THE TRAIN GUYS!
I am VERY impressed with the CityRail. They're actually succeeding. I applaud them! :)
Until tomorrow!
Dana xoxoxox
OMGAH. TIRED. BACK ACHING.
But damn was today interesting. I woke today absolutely exhausted had to run to church (NOT a good thing on three hours sleep and an empty stomach) to be there on time for the Catechesis and then Jay tells me that I have to bloody perform five songs (NEW SONGS WHICH I HAD NEVER HEARD BY THE WAY) in front of all the American Pilgrims! Can I hear you say, WHAT??? And THEN apparently I hear that I'm reading for mass! What! So of course there I am, empty stomach, completely paralysed with lassitude and I must be so invloved. THANKFULLY However, I managed to learn those songs quick snap and I pawned off my reading to Jeanette so I think I'm reading tomorrow (today, technically).
However the Catechesis session was enlightening and the Bishop was highly entertaining, very amusing man. :) Eventually we survived it, had lunch and travelled to the city via train at approximately 1:00. Man you've gotta love those Croatians! I love their music and their traditional dancing in Hyde Park. Seriously, Hyde Park. That's where I was ALL DAY. Primordially it was due to the youth activities in the area and we were registered to pay homage to the incorrupt body of Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati (I think I got that right). However the line was SO EXTENSIVE. Any longer and it could have measured the cicrumference of the equator and then some! We were waiting tediously for approximately two hours (becoming bored enough to initiate a sort of Irish jig), we had to pass security and THEN we were able to enter the Cathedral. It was so peaceful in there, I could have spent the whole day in there in some meditative bubble of quiet reflection.
On other notes though, it was excellent unexpectedly meeting friends there and of course making thousands of new ones! In the terribly and exhaustingly long wait for dinner we lined the paths of Hyde Park and decided to treat EVERYONE that walked passed with a celebrity welcome, rushing to greet them and hi-fiving and hugging randoms. "Spreading the love" as it were. The nuns watched with amusement and loved what we were doing. Growing up a devout Catholic in such a diverse world, it's comforting to know that there's so many people who share what you believe! Seriously, this has been the best way to meet people - run up to them and hug them! They were all so lovely! I would speak more about it but I am so exanimate at the moment and I have to practice my reading for tomorrow!
Okay, really have to get to bed.
Oh yeah! OMG The train home! We were the loudest carriage! Singing and dancing with all these Iraqi pilgrims! They were so fun!! PARTY ON THE TRAIN GUYS!
I am VERY impressed with the CityRail. They're actually succeeding. I applaud them! :)
Until tomorrow!
Dana xoxoxox
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
WYD DAY 1
Tuesday 15th July 2008
Day 1 of World Youth Day, Sydney Australia
Receive the Power. The theme of World Youth Day, today it was evident to me for the first time in my whole World Youth Day experience ever since last year that the 'Holy Spirit' is truly evident in the youth of THE WORLD. Today was superfluously transcendental, beyond anything I have ever experienced. There was people from several countries en masse. It took us two to three hours to walk from Wynyard Station to Barangaroo because it was so packed! We were like - to use the cliched analogy - sardines packed in a can! Luckily we had the Croatian people who are accomodated at our Parish singing their songs with their drums, tambourines and guitars. Not to mention, their Croatian flag aprroximately the size of a basketball court. Damn those songs are catchy. There was even a skywriter in the sky writing "Welcome." Once it finished, everyone cheered and waved to the helicopters overhead. It was amazing, there was an exodus of youth from around the world, derived from so many nations - various that I had never encountered previously. For example, we met these people from Aruba. Aruba! In the Caribbean! I had never even heard of it before. A multitude of flags from upteen nations waved in a sea of international patriotism. Everyone was proud of their country, from the Aussies constantly crying "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - OI OI OI!!" to the Mexicans yelling, "MEHICO MEHICO MEHICO!!" The general atmosphere was mind blowing. Although I think there existed not only pride but an underlying joy and gratitude that this faith of ours has dissented across this globe. Such an atmosphere of joy, love, geniality and of course - youth.
With the Croatians and their bellowing musicality, the office workers from George street were in a daze, taking out their camera phones snapping photos and videos of us. We waved as we passed, especially at the helicopters. Beach balls were being thrown and we randomly conversed to international friends, learning different languages. The office people found it highly amusing, and were throwing us lollies out the window. It was so cool. Barangaroo itself was huge. I saw Cee!!! She was so cute coming up and running to me, we found people we knew and met TONNES of people from around the world and got them to sign our flag. The atmosphere there was so amazing like in the concert after the mass, you could just dance with randoms and that would be cool, you could dance, sing, sway, start a Conga line and learn dances from every nation you could think of just because you wanted to and people would not care. They'd join right in with you! I made so many new friends! Not to mention, we should alter the name of WYD from WYD to "Hot Catholics of the World Unite!" *wink wink Greta* (American/Croatian/French Pilgrims - highly ATTRACTIVE). It was such an awesome concert with Guy Sebatstain, Gary Pinto, Paulini and Damien Leith. Everyone was moshing and enjoying the music.
The mass itself however although long, it was quite excellent. The songs went forever but they were sung beautifully - it was reverent and a hush of solitude had swept over everyone. Kneeling though was an ABSOLUTE KILLER. That concrete was harsh on the knees. I liked the Homily though, very age appropriate. BUT OMG. Kevin Rudd speaking Tagalog was HILARIOUS! He did apologise though, which made it even funnier! I swear there was so many filos there! We even saw filos from Canada! The Italian and Austrian people were so cute! LOL When Kevin Rudd addressed everyone in German the heap of German people in front of us were going "Awww, he's alright." A very so-so accent. But it was pretty cool of him to address us in various languages. The food was OK. Of course we were served meat pies, typical Aussie Cuisine. Dinner was... interesting. We were served chicken curry in POUCHES. When I first saw it I was like: "WHAT is THAT!" I swear it resembled spontaneous re-examined food choices aka vomit. But it wasn't too bad. Mind over matter.
LOL Got to meet up with Francisco and all these other people which was excellent, hadn't seen them in a while. Oh yeah, and I was on the huge screen! The guy captured this huge close up of me singing 'Recive the Power' ROFL. I couldn't believe it! It was such an awesome night! Going home was even more of an experience as these few pilgrim girls crowded around the window of this bar and started singing Spice Girls along with the bar music. The Canadians had also commented that the city was very beautiful! So point 1 for Sydney! This day has simply been overwhelming! I know that I'm absolutely knackered but I can't wait until tomorrow. Dancing with randoms is fun lol! We missed the fireworks but it was okay, the train ride home was peaceful but lol at Wynyard station I started the chant. Darren's like "How do I start a chant? I dunno how to start a chant!"
Me: "Like this: GIMME AN O!"
Short silence... "Um O!"
Me: "GIMME AN A!"
YOUTH GROUP: "A!"
Me: "GIMME A S!"
YOUTH GROUP: "S!"
"GIMME AN I!"
"I!"
"GIMME AN S!"
"S!"
"WHAT'S IT SPELL!!!!!?????"
"OASIS!!!!!!"
Me: "See Darren, that's how you start a chant."
Jay: "Ha, the Velascos start everything"
LOL.
Gotta go. Have to straighten my hair - for practical reasons. It will be SO much more managable that way. Curly hair is just too stressful amidst all this! xD So I have to go, takes an hour and a half! Tomorrow, Catechesis and lunch!! And of course YOUTH FESTIVALS! Can't wait to meet more people! There was so much energy there, unbelievable!
Until tomorrow!
- Dana xoxoxox
Day 1 of World Youth Day, Sydney Australia
Receive the Power. The theme of World Youth Day, today it was evident to me for the first time in my whole World Youth Day experience ever since last year that the 'Holy Spirit' is truly evident in the youth of THE WORLD. Today was superfluously transcendental, beyond anything I have ever experienced. There was people from several countries en masse. It took us two to three hours to walk from Wynyard Station to Barangaroo because it was so packed! We were like - to use the cliched analogy - sardines packed in a can! Luckily we had the Croatian people who are accomodated at our Parish singing their songs with their drums, tambourines and guitars. Not to mention, their Croatian flag aprroximately the size of a basketball court. Damn those songs are catchy. There was even a skywriter in the sky writing "Welcome." Once it finished, everyone cheered and waved to the helicopters overhead. It was amazing, there was an exodus of youth from around the world, derived from so many nations - various that I had never encountered previously. For example, we met these people from Aruba. Aruba! In the Caribbean! I had never even heard of it before. A multitude of flags from upteen nations waved in a sea of international patriotism. Everyone was proud of their country, from the Aussies constantly crying "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - OI OI OI!!" to the Mexicans yelling, "MEHICO MEHICO MEHICO!!" The general atmosphere was mind blowing. Although I think there existed not only pride but an underlying joy and gratitude that this faith of ours has dissented across this globe. Such an atmosphere of joy, love, geniality and of course - youth.
With the Croatians and their bellowing musicality, the office workers from George street were in a daze, taking out their camera phones snapping photos and videos of us. We waved as we passed, especially at the helicopters. Beach balls were being thrown and we randomly conversed to international friends, learning different languages. The office people found it highly amusing, and were throwing us lollies out the window. It was so cool. Barangaroo itself was huge. I saw Cee!!! She was so cute coming up and running to me, we found people we knew and met TONNES of people from around the world and got them to sign our flag. The atmosphere there was so amazing like in the concert after the mass, you could just dance with randoms and that would be cool, you could dance, sing, sway, start a Conga line and learn dances from every nation you could think of just because you wanted to and people would not care. They'd join right in with you! I made so many new friends! Not to mention, we should alter the name of WYD from WYD to "Hot Catholics of the World Unite!" *wink wink Greta* (American/Croatian/French Pilgrims - highly ATTRACTIVE). It was such an awesome concert with Guy Sebatstain, Gary Pinto, Paulini and Damien Leith. Everyone was moshing and enjoying the music.
The mass itself however although long, it was quite excellent. The songs went forever but they were sung beautifully - it was reverent and a hush of solitude had swept over everyone. Kneeling though was an ABSOLUTE KILLER. That concrete was harsh on the knees. I liked the Homily though, very age appropriate. BUT OMG. Kevin Rudd speaking Tagalog was HILARIOUS! He did apologise though, which made it even funnier! I swear there was so many filos there! We even saw filos from Canada! The Italian and Austrian people were so cute! LOL When Kevin Rudd addressed everyone in German the heap of German people in front of us were going "Awww, he's alright." A very so-so accent. But it was pretty cool of him to address us in various languages. The food was OK. Of course we were served meat pies, typical Aussie Cuisine. Dinner was... interesting. We were served chicken curry in POUCHES. When I first saw it I was like: "WHAT is THAT!" I swear it resembled spontaneous re-examined food choices aka vomit. But it wasn't too bad. Mind over matter.
LOL Got to meet up with Francisco and all these other people which was excellent, hadn't seen them in a while. Oh yeah, and I was on the huge screen! The guy captured this huge close up of me singing 'Recive the Power' ROFL. I couldn't believe it! It was such an awesome night! Going home was even more of an experience as these few pilgrim girls crowded around the window of this bar and started singing Spice Girls along with the bar music. The Canadians had also commented that the city was very beautiful! So point 1 for Sydney! This day has simply been overwhelming! I know that I'm absolutely knackered but I can't wait until tomorrow. Dancing with randoms is fun lol! We missed the fireworks but it was okay, the train ride home was peaceful but lol at Wynyard station I started the chant. Darren's like "How do I start a chant? I dunno how to start a chant!"
Me: "Like this: GIMME AN O!"
Short silence... "Um O!"
Me: "GIMME AN A!"
YOUTH GROUP: "A!"
Me: "GIMME A S!"
YOUTH GROUP: "S!"
"GIMME AN I!"
"I!"
"GIMME AN S!"
"S!"
"WHAT'S IT SPELL!!!!!?????"
"OASIS!!!!!!"
Me: "See Darren, that's how you start a chant."
Jay: "Ha, the Velascos start everything"
LOL.
Gotta go. Have to straighten my hair - for practical reasons. It will be SO much more managable that way. Curly hair is just too stressful amidst all this! xD So I have to go, takes an hour and a half! Tomorrow, Catechesis and lunch!! And of course YOUTH FESTIVALS! Can't wait to meet more people! There was so much energy there, unbelievable!
Until tomorrow!
- Dana xoxoxox
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Confirmed fears
I discovered something today.
Something which upset me, greatly.
I knew it though, I'm not as gullible or as faithful as everyone thinks, anymore. It simply confirmed my fears, an underlying thought I knew but didn't want to believe. I've been noticing things, several things, about people. They don't think I notice, but I do. They don't think I care. I always have. Maybe me being self-centered and conceited has been my defense mechanism against that - because I didn't want to see the truth. I wanted to be ignorant. I didn't want to know that deep inside, I neglected - FAILED to help someone I loved.
That hurt. But being as pathetic as I am, I couldn't confront the truth, and so I maintained my ignorance, my conceitedness, my wild fantastical stories centred on me - because I knew that if I kept them entertained enough, maybe we'd all just forget that like an iceberg, regardless of what's on the surface there's a depth beneath people that nobody sees until you hit it - and the next thing you know you're sinking like the Titanic. That's when you realise that they've been sinking all along and you've done absolutely nothing to stop it - you're too caught in your own life, own hopes, own dreams, own damn relationships.
Truth hurts. Like a bitch.
But I'm NOT going to be ignorant any longer.
Something which upset me, greatly.
I knew it though, I'm not as gullible or as faithful as everyone thinks, anymore. It simply confirmed my fears, an underlying thought I knew but didn't want to believe. I've been noticing things, several things, about people. They don't think I notice, but I do. They don't think I care. I always have. Maybe me being self-centered and conceited has been my defense mechanism against that - because I didn't want to see the truth. I wanted to be ignorant. I didn't want to know that deep inside, I neglected - FAILED to help someone I loved.
That hurt. But being as pathetic as I am, I couldn't confront the truth, and so I maintained my ignorance, my conceitedness, my wild fantastical stories centred on me - because I knew that if I kept them entertained enough, maybe we'd all just forget that like an iceberg, regardless of what's on the surface there's a depth beneath people that nobody sees until you hit it - and the next thing you know you're sinking like the Titanic. That's when you realise that they've been sinking all along and you've done absolutely nothing to stop it - you're too caught in your own life, own hopes, own dreams, own damn relationships.
Truth hurts. Like a bitch.
But I'm NOT going to be ignorant any longer.
Sunday, 6 July 2008
Defenstration and Trivia Nights
OOO Been busy, busy, busy this week! So preoccupied with fundraising and the Trivia Night! It was such a success and we received our Youth Group jackets just in time for World Youth Day! (I love it! They have pockets EVERYWHERE! You could probably smuggle heroin into Bali with those things and they wouldn't discover it! ... okay, terrible analogy.)Oh my goodness! So hectic. (I'm culminating a severe attempt to cease my constant utterance of OH MY GOD. Mum intends for me to live a life with 'grace,' lol okay. Especially with WYD on the horizon) You know who else will be 'out of action?' (Man if I had that emoticon that Lorraine gave me, I'd totally exploit it right now). Anyway, I seriously don't know how I'll be able to appropriately 'holiday,' and I mean holiday as a verb with four assignments to accomplish in one week and to movie marathon with friends, venture to the city, go out, meet friends and RELAX before HSC English Trials, finals and the extension Major Work... and okay this is an inappropriately long sentence.
Trivia Nights are so engaging! It would have been MUCH better and less 'tense' had someone NOT attended. I saw him enter the door with his parents so I ran to the kitchen and keenly offered any assitance I could (slicing the cakes for tea). To be frank, I felt safer to a great degree, out of the main action and knife in hand. Seriously, that boy is psychotic and he literally scares the shit out of me. Is that the type of person I attract? Psychos? *Shudder* So we were on different tables on vastly opposing sides of the hall and what does he do? He sits at our bloody table beside me. Thank G- I mean, thank the heavens that Carissa was there or I'd be perpetually trapped there with him and his profoundly disturbing drawings, dark aura and eccentricities that are beyond eccentric.
I am terrified of him, and I believe that he's not letting me go. He admitted to LOUIE of all people, my little seven year-old brother that if he had a sniper rifle he'd shoot us all. Something is gravely diturbing about him, and I really don't wish to see him at all or at World Youth Day. I think that his presence would degrade the general enjoyment/spiritual enlightenment deplorably. I don't mean this in a mean way, but he needs help. I don't think any event with me present especially, would be beneficial to him at all.
In other news, I am writing once more! I love it! I'm writing again, my second chapter is finally reaching that 2000 word mark. Of course it still needs some severe editing, to refine my style and technique, at the moment the vocabulary is so plebian it might as well be Twilight or something. I'd like to venture beyond that. The 'romantic' element of the plot is culminating, I just hope I don't forget all the ideas I had in my head! Finally it's coming along, you have no idea how good it feels to slide back into writing again. It's like welcoming an old friend or family member.
Oh my word, do you know what my mum just did? She bloody REMINDED me to do my schoolwork. AS ID IT'S NOT ON MY MIND ALREADY. WHAT THE HELL DID THIS BLOG POST BEGIN WITH??? I KNOW MOTHER, WHAT YOU THINK I'M AN INCOMPETENT STUDENT THAT I NEEEEEDDD REMINDING TO FINISH MY WORK THIS WEEK BEFORE WORLD YOUTH DAY. I'M SORRY BUT WHAT THE FUCK!! I KNOW!! GOSH. YOU DON'T THINK THAT I DON'T KNOW THAT?
AS IF I NEED REMINDING I DON'T THINK THAT I'S BE EVEN ABLE TO FREAKING RELAX THESE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE OF MY WORK LOAD. GOSH NOW JUST BECAUSE I STARTED WRITING AGAIN THAT'S IMMEDIATELY CONDUCIVE TO ME BEING COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE AND NOT COMPLETING MY WORK? WHAT THE HELL MOTHER? YOU SEE HOW HARD I WORK, YOU SEE HOW I WORK EVERY NIGHT. NOW THE SECOND I RELAX FOR ONCE YOU REMIND ME TO DO MY WORK?? WHAT THE FUCK!
LIKE I DON'T FREAKING KNOW! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!
Until freaking next time -
- deeh xoxox
I feel too accosted right now to continue my train of thought.
I want to defenstrate something. No SOMEONE. I'd defenstrate him, and I might defenstrate my mother. Urgh! How could she think that I don't know!!!!! URGH1!!
Trivia Nights are so engaging! It would have been MUCH better and less 'tense' had someone NOT attended. I saw him enter the door with his parents so I ran to the kitchen and keenly offered any assitance I could (slicing the cakes for tea). To be frank, I felt safer to a great degree, out of the main action and knife in hand. Seriously, that boy is psychotic and he literally scares the shit out of me. Is that the type of person I attract? Psychos? *Shudder* So we were on different tables on vastly opposing sides of the hall and what does he do? He sits at our bloody table beside me. Thank G- I mean, thank the heavens that Carissa was there or I'd be perpetually trapped there with him and his profoundly disturbing drawings, dark aura and eccentricities that are beyond eccentric.
I am terrified of him, and I believe that he's not letting me go. He admitted to LOUIE of all people, my little seven year-old brother that if he had a sniper rifle he'd shoot us all. Something is gravely diturbing about him, and I really don't wish to see him at all or at World Youth Day. I think that his presence would degrade the general enjoyment/spiritual enlightenment deplorably. I don't mean this in a mean way, but he needs help. I don't think any event with me present especially, would be beneficial to him at all.
In other news, I am writing once more! I love it! I'm writing again, my second chapter is finally reaching that 2000 word mark. Of course it still needs some severe editing, to refine my style and technique, at the moment the vocabulary is so plebian it might as well be Twilight or something. I'd like to venture beyond that. The 'romantic' element of the plot is culminating, I just hope I don't forget all the ideas I had in my head! Finally it's coming along, you have no idea how good it feels to slide back into writing again. It's like welcoming an old friend or family member.
Oh my word, do you know what my mum just did? She bloody REMINDED me to do my schoolwork. AS ID IT'S NOT ON MY MIND ALREADY. WHAT THE HELL DID THIS BLOG POST BEGIN WITH??? I KNOW MOTHER, WHAT YOU THINK I'M AN INCOMPETENT STUDENT THAT I NEEEEEDDD REMINDING TO FINISH MY WORK THIS WEEK BEFORE WORLD YOUTH DAY. I'M SORRY BUT WHAT THE FUCK!! I KNOW!! GOSH. YOU DON'T THINK THAT I DON'T KNOW THAT?
AS IF I NEED REMINDING I DON'T THINK THAT I'S BE EVEN ABLE TO FREAKING RELAX THESE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE OF MY WORK LOAD. GOSH NOW JUST BECAUSE I STARTED WRITING AGAIN THAT'S IMMEDIATELY CONDUCIVE TO ME BEING COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE AND NOT COMPLETING MY WORK? WHAT THE HELL MOTHER? YOU SEE HOW HARD I WORK, YOU SEE HOW I WORK EVERY NIGHT. NOW THE SECOND I RELAX FOR ONCE YOU REMIND ME TO DO MY WORK?? WHAT THE FUCK!
LIKE I DON'T FREAKING KNOW! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!
Until freaking next time -
- deeh xoxox
I feel too accosted right now to continue my train of thought.
I want to defenstrate something. No SOMEONE. I'd defenstrate him, and I might defenstrate my mother. Urgh! How could she think that I don't know!!!!! URGH1!!
Friday, 4 July 2008
KNOW YOUR WORDS BEFORE YOU USE THEM
Honestly, what is happening with language these days?
It's utterly preposterous! When you intend use a word against someone at least know the definition of said word to avoid offending the opposing party or appearing to be an idiot!
EXHIBIT A: LIE
KNOW WHAT A LIE IS BEFORE YOU CALL ME A LIAR.
Misinterpreting information is not lying. Being unable to decipher a stupid timetable is not a lie. I am sincerely sorry for having passed on the incorrect information to you, but please do not promulgate me as a liar! That is utter catachresis! I know I'm not perfect but I at least TRY not to lie. Honestly. Let's explore the definition of 'lie' shall we?
Dictionary.com
A false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood.
See that? "deliberate intent to deceive" My alleged intent was non-existent!! Yes what I said was a false statement - BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THAT! That's how I interpreted that bloody timetable, my apologies.
Would you like a second opinion?
Wordnet.princeton
tell an untruth; pretend with intent to deceive
"Intent to deceive" THAT SEEMS TO KEEP POPPING UP DOESN'T IT!
Gosh, perhaps reading a dictionary would actually be beneficial to some people.
That's my rant for today.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
P.S Privatisation is soon! I'll be as censored as Russian Literature under Stalin soon!
It's utterly preposterous! When you intend use a word against someone at least know the definition of said word to avoid offending the opposing party or appearing to be an idiot!
EXHIBIT A: LIE
KNOW WHAT A LIE IS BEFORE YOU CALL ME A LIAR.
Misinterpreting information is not lying. Being unable to decipher a stupid timetable is not a lie. I am sincerely sorry for having passed on the incorrect information to you, but please do not promulgate me as a liar! That is utter catachresis! I know I'm not perfect but I at least TRY not to lie. Honestly. Let's explore the definition of 'lie' shall we?
Dictionary.com
A false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood.
See that? "deliberate intent to deceive" My alleged intent was non-existent!! Yes what I said was a false statement - BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THAT! That's how I interpreted that bloody timetable, my apologies.
Would you like a second opinion?
Wordnet.princeton
tell an untruth; pretend with intent to deceive
"Intent to deceive" THAT SEEMS TO KEEP POPPING UP DOESN'T IT!
Gosh, perhaps reading a dictionary would actually be beneficial to some people.
That's my rant for today.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
P.S Privatisation is soon! I'll be as censored as Russian Literature under Stalin soon!
Thursday, 3 July 2008
Privacy
I am about to privatise my blog for the main reason that people I do not wish to read my blog have discovered it and are currently in the process of voraciously reading it.
So a message to all of you out there (i.e people at school), soon, unless I authorise it, you can't read it.
This is post is mainly for courtesy reasons. For people like you Raz, I do care that you read my blog (not that it's anything of real substance, I feel pathetic because such deep individuals are reading my stupid blog about some freaking guy, my apologies) so just a note, because there is no way for me to contact you at the moment. So if anyone would like to continue reading my blog, please send me a message/comment or something with your email so I can add you to my invitations list.
P.S Something of substance will be up soon. I just don't have the time for emotional catharsis at the moment I'm afraid.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
So a message to all of you out there (i.e people at school), soon, unless I authorise it, you can't read it.
This is post is mainly for courtesy reasons. For people like you Raz, I do care that you read my blog (not that it's anything of real substance, I feel pathetic because such deep individuals are reading my stupid blog about some freaking guy, my apologies) so just a note, because there is no way for me to contact you at the moment. So if anyone would like to continue reading my blog, please send me a message/comment or something with your email so I can add you to my invitations list.
P.S Something of substance will be up soon. I just don't have the time for emotional catharsis at the moment I'm afraid.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
Saturday, 28 June 2008
Tumultuous Rollercoaster Rides
of emotions.
Not only am I suffering a rollercoaster ride of emotions (pardon the cliche metaphor), but it is during my week of equivocal and highly painful ovarian activity and thus my hormones are fluctuating like they're all bipolar or something. Now, previously he informed me that he'd be attending and I was like OMFG freaking out for the whole entire day and everyone was so excited and ecstatic, especially during THE MOST unproductive Japanese lesson ever experienced when all we could discuss was Dana-san's soon-to-be BOIFURENDO. Which isn't likely to happen anyway. Also my fellow ladies of sophistication were discussing it very animatedly in Legal Studies yesterday (which I feared whilst I was English, a fear had I confirmed when Steffie approached me with a very knowing excitement behind her glowing orbs). I was becoming excited/nervous/nerves on the fray in addition to PMS-ing and my ovaries/uterus going into some form of electric shock therapy wherein which I experience sporadic jolts of pain. So there we were planning my outfit in religion in which we collectively contrived a cute/sophisticated ensemble for him. I WAS GOING TO WEAR MY LBD, and still am. Ah my apologies dear readers, for I must inform you upon what indeed happened last night.
Catastrophe ladies and gentleman. I had napped last night to alleviate my weary mind from the taxing associations with school and family and friends and whatnot who were badgering me with sexually implied comments in regards to tomorrow(tonight) night. In any case I wake to find a text beeping on my phone, and who is it but him apologising profusely at his inability to attend tonight. T_T Shock, devastation and epic fail! I am upset, of course I am, eveyone says that he's standing me up. I don't think so, at least he informed and I understand his reason completely (although my uncle thinks it's bullshit and ergo the only conclusion we can arrive to is that he's "a poof," which I highly doubt) - besides he's making it up to me lol. But I shall remain the Pragon of Poise and Tower of Feminist Strength for we are irrepressible irresistible women who can and will function without men.
Ah alas, indeed I have realised that inconsequential to whatever sect of spatial equality a man may originate from, even in the upper echelons of society, men will always be GUYS. Regardless, I am wearing my LBD and having a good time. Nevermind. I have other things to think of, such as Philippine politically revolutionist fiction. Now THAT'S interesting and worth my while. You know what I realised last night? That despite my feminist ideals, domestic activities and stereotypically 'female' duties are HIGHLY therapeutic. I baked three cakes last night and washed the dishes and that was highly therapeutic for me, very relaxing and calming all the while I listened to Fergie's 'Labels or Love' because I needed a song like that at that moment. It was very coincidental I must say as Libby had supplied me with this wonderful link with these lovely Jimmy Choo/Dolce and Gabbana pumps and boots which although looked quite painful were very cute.
Yet, I must return to my Philippine Revolutionist Fiction (Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere)and complete my studying for my English Exam.
My aplogies ladies and gentleman, this was not of substance. Just my bitching about the dramas of teenage life.
Until next time -
- deeh xox
P.S I wish to find a more enlightening skin.
Not only am I suffering a rollercoaster ride of emotions (pardon the cliche metaphor), but it is during my week of equivocal and highly painful ovarian activity and thus my hormones are fluctuating like they're all bipolar or something. Now, previously he informed me that he'd be attending and I was like OMFG freaking out for the whole entire day and everyone was so excited and ecstatic, especially during THE MOST unproductive Japanese lesson ever experienced when all we could discuss was Dana-san's soon-to-be BOIFURENDO. Which isn't likely to happen anyway. Also my fellow ladies of sophistication were discussing it very animatedly in Legal Studies yesterday (which I feared whilst I was English, a fear had I confirmed when Steffie approached me with a very knowing excitement behind her glowing orbs). I was becoming excited/nervous/nerves on the fray in addition to PMS-ing and my ovaries/uterus going into some form of electric shock therapy wherein which I experience sporadic jolts of pain. So there we were planning my outfit in religion in which we collectively contrived a cute/sophisticated ensemble for him. I WAS GOING TO WEAR MY LBD, and still am. Ah my apologies dear readers, for I must inform you upon what indeed happened last night.
Catastrophe ladies and gentleman. I had napped last night to alleviate my weary mind from the taxing associations with school and family and friends and whatnot who were badgering me with sexually implied comments in regards to tomorrow(tonight) night. In any case I wake to find a text beeping on my phone, and who is it but him apologising profusely at his inability to attend tonight. T_T Shock, devastation and epic fail! I am upset, of course I am, eveyone says that he's standing me up. I don't think so, at least he informed and I understand his reason completely (although my uncle thinks it's bullshit and ergo the only conclusion we can arrive to is that he's "a poof," which I highly doubt) - besides he's making it up to me lol. But I shall remain the Pragon of Poise and Tower of Feminist Strength for we are irrepressible irresistible women who can and will function without men.
Ah alas, indeed I have realised that inconsequential to whatever sect of spatial equality a man may originate from, even in the upper echelons of society, men will always be GUYS. Regardless, I am wearing my LBD and having a good time. Nevermind. I have other things to think of, such as Philippine politically revolutionist fiction. Now THAT'S interesting and worth my while. You know what I realised last night? That despite my feminist ideals, domestic activities and stereotypically 'female' duties are HIGHLY therapeutic. I baked three cakes last night and washed the dishes and that was highly therapeutic for me, very relaxing and calming all the while I listened to Fergie's 'Labels or Love' because I needed a song like that at that moment. It was very coincidental I must say as Libby had supplied me with this wonderful link with these lovely Jimmy Choo/Dolce and Gabbana pumps and boots which although looked quite painful were very cute.
Yet, I must return to my Philippine Revolutionist Fiction (Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere)and complete my studying for my English Exam.
My aplogies ladies and gentleman, this was not of substance. Just my bitching about the dramas of teenage life.
Until next time -
- deeh xox
P.S I wish to find a more enlightening skin.
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Simply Terrible
Goodness, I haven't been blogging anything of substance as of late.
My apologies.
When I make the time, all shall be possible.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
My apologies.
When I make the time, all shall be possible.
Until next time -
- deeh xoxox
OMFG
THIS IS COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT AND I TOTALLY HAVE TO DO MODERN BUT.
OMFG!
OMFG!
OMFG!
OMFG!
I'm so excited! I must say it in Japanese!
Bueiru-kun wa denwabango wo watashini kureru!!!!!
Dyz, you were there to receive the brunt of my excitement and bubbling joy.
OMFG!
OMFG!
OMFG!
OMFG!
I'm so excited! I must say it in Japanese!
Bueiru-kun wa denwabango wo watashini kureru!!!!!
Dyz, you were there to receive the brunt of my excitement and bubbling joy.
Monday, 9 June 2008
Catwoman/Sweeney Todd Ensemble
s:
I wonder...what does failure taste like....but,youll know...so tell me ...Tell me what you cherish most..Give me the pleasure of taking it away...
.: dana. de3h - almost died Tokyo Drift style!! says:
lol I'll tell you what it tastes like. It tastes like yanking John Roe's cashmere scarf and strangling him with it!
really, who cares about design elements. moony rocks says:
ahahaahhahaha, is that the ajudicator name?
.: dana. de3h - almost died Tokyo Drift style!! says:
yes!! Any old man with a chasmere scarf beware! I am the serial yanker in search for John Roe! And I WILL HAVE MY JUSTICE.
really, who cares about design elements. moony rocks says:
deeh
.: dana. de3h - almost died Tokyo Drift style!! says:
I just had a vision of me in my catwoman outfit climbing rooftops and yanking the cashmere scarfs of random men walking across the street like sweeney todd yelling "ARE YOU JOHN ROE!"
Friday, 6 June 2008
EPIC FAILURE ladies and gentlemen EPIC FAILURE
This is how my lovely day at History Debating and Hurlstone progressed, however dear readers, I must caution you: COLOURFUL LANGUAGE (and a certain uncharacteristic bitchiness) will most likely ensue. This will be long, as I will go into extreme and gory detail.
How am I feeling at the moment? So demoralised like Japan without its Emperor Hirohito.
How did my day begin? Excellently, actually. How did it end? Disastrously.
This morning I woke up with nothing but victory and success on my mind I was breezing through the morning singing “V-I-C, V-I-C, V-I-C-T-O-R-Y! Victory! Victory is our cry!” Despite the fact that I had a grand total of three hours of sleep and arose bleary-eyed like corey worthington with a hangover (I do despise this bloke SO MUCH and how he besmirches the name of teenagers everywhere – he doesn’t deserve capitalisation!!) I had showered and dressed immaculately, gathered my hair in a French Twist and did my make up perfectly. I was like a glimmering stallion on race day – I was Makybe Diva at the Melbourne Cup. Although we had to be at Westmead at an ungodly hour and I had an obscene amount of coins weighing my purse I was like –yeah! We can do this! We’re prepared! Evidently I was optimistic and continued to be optimistic all the way down to Hurlstone Agricultural in freaking Glenfield which is literally out in whoop-whoop land – I had never been in that direction, it was like we required a passport just to traverse there.
Anyway, we stepped off the train and suddenly there’s like this herd (pardon the pun) of Hurlstone students exiting the train. It was like Marist and McAuley at Westmead station only exemplified because Glenfield is about the size of a peanut. There was literally this exodus of students inundating the stairs and we had to walk up their asphalt pathway (does not compare to King’s at all! I’d rather almost tripping on the grass any day!) bypassing these bizarre archaic agricultural instruments on the way to their main office – which mind you was like a mission to get to. Thank God for the invention of signs and the very hospitable students. Quite frankly, despite the relatively dodgy state of their school, the students were very magnanimous and hospitable and apparently according to their office trophy-case, excellent horse breeders. O_O
Omitting all the tedious formalities, here we are at 9:25am, T-minus five minutes to total destruction. I swear I think Hurlstone had an intimidation tactic up their sleeve, they sent students as spectators and the year ten history classes to watch. So quite literally we were so engulfed with Hurlstone I felt like a bloody reject (once again, I am comfortable at King’s another reason why our expatriation off to whoop-whoop land was so unjustified). The only thing that calmed me down at that point was quite frankly a marvellous conversation with the time-keeper about Dostoevsky. (Ok how much of an ENGLISH NERD did I sound like just then – I was calmed down by discussing Russian Literature. Gosh, deeh, you are unbelievable). In short: we lost.
Ok, now here is the part when I become really bitchy and rant, and I apologise for any colourful language or enraged assertions I will make at this point, but that loss was poignant to me I wanted to literally shove my pen up my nose and bang my head on the table like that girl in Japan who did it with a pencil as she was unable to handle the pressure. We lost upon the stupidest reason – I swear to God that senile adjudicator, John Roe needs to just walk off a cliff or something or re-educate himself on how to adjudicate correctly – we lost on TECHNICALITY. Because we spoke OVERTIME. I’ll take that into consideration, however when you look upon the debate as a whole, we totally kicked their ass. It was so bleeding obvious that we lucidly had won, our arguments were thoroughly (PAINSTAKINGLY) researched – literally we left no stone unturned. Our arguments were titanium steel – our refutations were flawless we spent SIX WEEKS on that debate. We went to the State Library!!! We had expected the team to have a good quality argument. Instead, their argument was so poorly researched and NOT SUBSTATNTIATED may I add (No use of historians or historical facts – pure assertion!) Their refutations consisted primarily of speculation and their arguments were all over the place. Their third speaker was horrible! He stuttered and lost his place and confused his palm cards and said nothing of substantial matter. Then you have Libby who TORE DOWN their case like it was a discarded catalogue left out on a wet day. Literally she shredded them to pieces (we all did) as their arguments were so basic it was laughable (lol but we did employ the strategy of pretending to verse a team of Vales here, and the Hurlstone team did not even compare). And yet we lost on the bullshit reason that we spoke too long and that the other team didn’t. Well, the only reason why they didn’t is because they had no argument or research to fill the time! We went over time because we were so prepared. I swear we annihilated them like the tanks of Tiananmen Square!
What absolutely shits me is that they didn’t even know what side they were on! That ignoramus of an adjudicator said “which is why I give it to the affirmative” and they’re like – what? Is that us? God, I wanted to shoot her. Violent intentions aside, I was so demoralised and shattered. Literally my pride and dignity was so shattered it was all over the floor. This was our fundamental debate. We knew that no matter what happens – no matter if we lost the other two the Japan one would be our definite win because we were so meticulous and prepared. But no we lost on the (excuse me) fucking bullshit basis of time constraints. Everyone – including ALL the Hurlstone spectators and history students had approached us saying that we should have won. The chairperson and time keeper said that we should have won – they even made little arrows on their notes saying “They’re going to win.” The Hurlstone team, the opposition themselves and their friends approached us saying that we should have won – everyone in that room except for stupid John Roe! He was telling us why we lost and everything with his black scarf around his neck with the label “cashmere” emblazoned on the front and all I wanted to do was grab it and strangle him with it! He can just die by a cashmere noose! That’s a dignified death for you!
Anyway, so there was our team and school pride lying in tatters and all I wanted to was bloody commit suicide by shooting myself in the uterus! I was demoralised I did not care anymore. That utter loss, gosh, I wanted to commit seppuku and hara-kiri myself like the Japanese War General Anami after he signed the surrender. Usually I can take defeat, I’m fine with defeat because usually I can say okay “This is where we went wrong, this is why we lost, I know why we lost” and I am able to fault myself, but this, this is just – urgh there are no words. We all agree as a team, that such a travesty would not have occurred at King’s. There they base their adjudication upon historical matter, not freaking time constraints! I am lodging an appeal! (*ahem*)
Then there was a short recess where in which we licked our wounds in a spectacularly bitchy fashion. Hurlstone had these lovely apple crumble pieces however, once again, they do not compare to the delightful assortment of fruit and those indulgent chocolate muffin things King’s has. One of these days, I will commit other acts of espionage and steal the recipe from their kitchens. *devious look* In short we didn’t care about the contemporary historical film one, having had our pride utterly destroyed as though it were the twin towers and we were defeated again to William Clarke. Now whatever pride I had managed to salvage off the proverbial floor was completely eradicated then as we lost to this newbie school whom of which had never debated before. It cuts me that I was a semi-finalist, Libby is a debating machine and Stef had done this before, and Greta was a good public speaker we were the McAuley dream team and we lost on the basis of ONE LINE. We lost on the fact that we failed to refute this one sentence. But I could tell that the debate was EXTREMELY close though because the two adjudicators took quite literally, half an hour to decide. All the while waiting I wanted to jump out the window or shoot myself in the uterus.
But the girls from William Clarke were really nice, very polite and delightful women and approached us saying that we should have won despite that they were also challenging. Once again, the adjudication was ludicrous. I honestly do wish them luck in their future debates as they were so kind and approachable. LOL they said that didn’t know how to refute because of our extended vocabulary and internally I was rejoicing because I was like “Yep! That was the intention!” I harnessed my English-prowess! Yet again I was bleeding on the crags of defeat. Last night my parents recognised my stress and offered me sauvignon blanc. LOL! I wanted that sauvignon blanc at that very moment. It was like history debating version of Sophie Delezio’s life story. First we were burned and suffered and annihilated into critical condition and then WHAM! CAR CRASH! Like a double-whammy, kick ‘em while their down, utter humiliating situation. But we soldiered on into the final debate.
By that time we were utterly exhausted like you don’t understand. We were so incomprehensibly wrung out that I just wanted to cry and go home. But we won. How funny is that? But I did have THE BIGGEST HEART ATTACK OF MY LIFE when Greta accidentally switched the allocation and I thought that she was saying my arguments and that we had the exact same speech. It turns out she didn’t, but for a minute during the debate I think my heart stopped beating, and suicide was just a pen away. We ended on a positive note however. Dammit, I wanted to make the quarters and semi’s!! I was in it to WIN IT this year, it’s the only reason why I sacrificed my sanity and eye-sight and endured the unending masses of bullshit and illness. Seriously as soon as I arrived home I changed and collapsed onto my bed, and when I woke up I had a chest infection (and still do) so bad that it HURTS TO BREATHE. I am so ill from receiving an average of 3 hours sleep every night that I can feel the pain radiating in every single one of my alveoli. (lol, year 8 science)
What an inexorably shit-arse day. Please, excuse my language. Anyway I bought my comfort food and slowly ate my way into an msg-related death, I went shopping, not that that’s relevant and slept. Thus the highlight of my day. I want to retreat into a hole and cosy up with my Dostoevsky. Although it was very interesting to see how everyone dealt with their grief, in a totally unethical ambitious science project sort of way, it was interesting to witness our grieving process. There was Greta who comforted everyone and distracted herself, Stefanie who rattled on about needing 500kg of Oolong tea to calm her down, Libby had a quiet yet mournful shroud enveloping her with a dark ambience and I, I had my anger and violent intentions like the fiery Aries that I am (not that I believe in superstition anyway). The train ride home had been eventful though, it was an ultimate bitchfest (to be frank) about the injustices of John Roe!
Gosh, okay I didn’t know how bitchy this blog was. My sincerest apologies but venting was in order. I will now proceed to rummage through the pantry for chocolate as I salvage my dignity from charred ruins of our history debating failure.
On a positive note, I won’t to work myself into exhaustion anymore. :) Now I can focus on my Modern historical Investigation and my Extension English seminar.... oh joy. LOL.
I SINCERELY HOPE THAT YOUR DAY WAS BETTER THAN MINE.
P.S There was a hilarious occasion though when halfway through Libby’s refutation she inserted an inside joke and simultaneously we cracked up so hard. Although silently of course. We crying and shaking in our seats in effort to contain ourselves and our laughter. I swear I hadn’t laughed so hard since Dyanne made that joke about Brendan Nelson during Rudd’s sorry speech.
How am I feeling at the moment? So demoralised like Japan without its Emperor Hirohito.
How did my day begin? Excellently, actually. How did it end? Disastrously.
This morning I woke up with nothing but victory and success on my mind I was breezing through the morning singing “V-I-C, V-I-C, V-I-C-T-O-R-Y! Victory! Victory is our cry!” Despite the fact that I had a grand total of three hours of sleep and arose bleary-eyed like corey worthington with a hangover (I do despise this bloke SO MUCH and how he besmirches the name of teenagers everywhere – he doesn’t deserve capitalisation!!) I had showered and dressed immaculately, gathered my hair in a French Twist and did my make up perfectly. I was like a glimmering stallion on race day – I was Makybe Diva at the Melbourne Cup. Although we had to be at Westmead at an ungodly hour and I had an obscene amount of coins weighing my purse I was like –yeah! We can do this! We’re prepared! Evidently I was optimistic and continued to be optimistic all the way down to Hurlstone Agricultural in freaking Glenfield which is literally out in whoop-whoop land – I had never been in that direction, it was like we required a passport just to traverse there.
Anyway, we stepped off the train and suddenly there’s like this herd (pardon the pun) of Hurlstone students exiting the train. It was like Marist and McAuley at Westmead station only exemplified because Glenfield is about the size of a peanut. There was literally this exodus of students inundating the stairs and we had to walk up their asphalt pathway (does not compare to King’s at all! I’d rather almost tripping on the grass any day!) bypassing these bizarre archaic agricultural instruments on the way to their main office – which mind you was like a mission to get to. Thank God for the invention of signs and the very hospitable students. Quite frankly, despite the relatively dodgy state of their school, the students were very magnanimous and hospitable and apparently according to their office trophy-case, excellent horse breeders. O_O
Omitting all the tedious formalities, here we are at 9:25am, T-minus five minutes to total destruction. I swear I think Hurlstone had an intimidation tactic up their sleeve, they sent students as spectators and the year ten history classes to watch. So quite literally we were so engulfed with Hurlstone I felt like a bloody reject (once again, I am comfortable at King’s another reason why our expatriation off to whoop-whoop land was so unjustified). The only thing that calmed me down at that point was quite frankly a marvellous conversation with the time-keeper about Dostoevsky. (Ok how much of an ENGLISH NERD did I sound like just then – I was calmed down by discussing Russian Literature. Gosh, deeh, you are unbelievable). In short: we lost.
Ok, now here is the part when I become really bitchy and rant, and I apologise for any colourful language or enraged assertions I will make at this point, but that loss was poignant to me I wanted to literally shove my pen up my nose and bang my head on the table like that girl in Japan who did it with a pencil as she was unable to handle the pressure. We lost upon the stupidest reason – I swear to God that senile adjudicator, John Roe needs to just walk off a cliff or something or re-educate himself on how to adjudicate correctly – we lost on TECHNICALITY. Because we spoke OVERTIME. I’ll take that into consideration, however when you look upon the debate as a whole, we totally kicked their ass. It was so bleeding obvious that we lucidly had won, our arguments were thoroughly (PAINSTAKINGLY) researched – literally we left no stone unturned. Our arguments were titanium steel – our refutations were flawless we spent SIX WEEKS on that debate. We went to the State Library!!! We had expected the team to have a good quality argument. Instead, their argument was so poorly researched and NOT SUBSTATNTIATED may I add (No use of historians or historical facts – pure assertion!) Their refutations consisted primarily of speculation and their arguments were all over the place. Their third speaker was horrible! He stuttered and lost his place and confused his palm cards and said nothing of substantial matter. Then you have Libby who TORE DOWN their case like it was a discarded catalogue left out on a wet day. Literally she shredded them to pieces (we all did) as their arguments were so basic it was laughable (lol but we did employ the strategy of pretending to verse a team of Vales here, and the Hurlstone team did not even compare). And yet we lost on the bullshit reason that we spoke too long and that the other team didn’t. Well, the only reason why they didn’t is because they had no argument or research to fill the time! We went over time because we were so prepared. I swear we annihilated them like the tanks of Tiananmen Square!
What absolutely shits me is that they didn’t even know what side they were on! That ignoramus of an adjudicator said “which is why I give it to the affirmative” and they’re like – what? Is that us? God, I wanted to shoot her. Violent intentions aside, I was so demoralised and shattered. Literally my pride and dignity was so shattered it was all over the floor. This was our fundamental debate. We knew that no matter what happens – no matter if we lost the other two the Japan one would be our definite win because we were so meticulous and prepared. But no we lost on the (excuse me) fucking bullshit basis of time constraints. Everyone – including ALL the Hurlstone spectators and history students had approached us saying that we should have won. The chairperson and time keeper said that we should have won – they even made little arrows on their notes saying “They’re going to win.” The Hurlstone team, the opposition themselves and their friends approached us saying that we should have won – everyone in that room except for stupid John Roe! He was telling us why we lost and everything with his black scarf around his neck with the label “cashmere” emblazoned on the front and all I wanted to do was grab it and strangle him with it! He can just die by a cashmere noose! That’s a dignified death for you!
Anyway, so there was our team and school pride lying in tatters and all I wanted to was bloody commit suicide by shooting myself in the uterus! I was demoralised I did not care anymore. That utter loss, gosh, I wanted to commit seppuku and hara-kiri myself like the Japanese War General Anami after he signed the surrender. Usually I can take defeat, I’m fine with defeat because usually I can say okay “This is where we went wrong, this is why we lost, I know why we lost” and I am able to fault myself, but this, this is just – urgh there are no words. We all agree as a team, that such a travesty would not have occurred at King’s. There they base their adjudication upon historical matter, not freaking time constraints! I am lodging an appeal! (*ahem*)
Then there was a short recess where in which we licked our wounds in a spectacularly bitchy fashion. Hurlstone had these lovely apple crumble pieces however, once again, they do not compare to the delightful assortment of fruit and those indulgent chocolate muffin things King’s has. One of these days, I will commit other acts of espionage and steal the recipe from their kitchens. *devious look* In short we didn’t care about the contemporary historical film one, having had our pride utterly destroyed as though it were the twin towers and we were defeated again to William Clarke. Now whatever pride I had managed to salvage off the proverbial floor was completely eradicated then as we lost to this newbie school whom of which had never debated before. It cuts me that I was a semi-finalist, Libby is a debating machine and Stef had done this before, and Greta was a good public speaker we were the McAuley dream team and we lost on the basis of ONE LINE. We lost on the fact that we failed to refute this one sentence. But I could tell that the debate was EXTREMELY close though because the two adjudicators took quite literally, half an hour to decide. All the while waiting I wanted to jump out the window or shoot myself in the uterus.
But the girls from William Clarke were really nice, very polite and delightful women and approached us saying that we should have won despite that they were also challenging. Once again, the adjudication was ludicrous. I honestly do wish them luck in their future debates as they were so kind and approachable. LOL they said that didn’t know how to refute because of our extended vocabulary and internally I was rejoicing because I was like “Yep! That was the intention!” I harnessed my English-prowess! Yet again I was bleeding on the crags of defeat. Last night my parents recognised my stress and offered me sauvignon blanc. LOL! I wanted that sauvignon blanc at that very moment. It was like history debating version of Sophie Delezio’s life story. First we were burned and suffered and annihilated into critical condition and then WHAM! CAR CRASH! Like a double-whammy, kick ‘em while their down, utter humiliating situation. But we soldiered on into the final debate.
By that time we were utterly exhausted like you don’t understand. We were so incomprehensibly wrung out that I just wanted to cry and go home. But we won. How funny is that? But I did have THE BIGGEST HEART ATTACK OF MY LIFE when Greta accidentally switched the allocation and I thought that she was saying my arguments and that we had the exact same speech. It turns out she didn’t, but for a minute during the debate I think my heart stopped beating, and suicide was just a pen away. We ended on a positive note however. Dammit, I wanted to make the quarters and semi’s!! I was in it to WIN IT this year, it’s the only reason why I sacrificed my sanity and eye-sight and endured the unending masses of bullshit and illness. Seriously as soon as I arrived home I changed and collapsed onto my bed, and when I woke up I had a chest infection (and still do) so bad that it HURTS TO BREATHE. I am so ill from receiving an average of 3 hours sleep every night that I can feel the pain radiating in every single one of my alveoli. (lol, year 8 science)
What an inexorably shit-arse day. Please, excuse my language. Anyway I bought my comfort food and slowly ate my way into an msg-related death, I went shopping, not that that’s relevant and slept. Thus the highlight of my day. I want to retreat into a hole and cosy up with my Dostoevsky. Although it was very interesting to see how everyone dealt with their grief, in a totally unethical ambitious science project sort of way, it was interesting to witness our grieving process. There was Greta who comforted everyone and distracted herself, Stefanie who rattled on about needing 500kg of Oolong tea to calm her down, Libby had a quiet yet mournful shroud enveloping her with a dark ambience and I, I had my anger and violent intentions like the fiery Aries that I am (not that I believe in superstition anyway). The train ride home had been eventful though, it was an ultimate bitchfest (to be frank) about the injustices of John Roe!
Gosh, okay I didn’t know how bitchy this blog was. My sincerest apologies but venting was in order. I will now proceed to rummage through the pantry for chocolate as I salvage my dignity from charred ruins of our history debating failure.
On a positive note, I won’t to work myself into exhaustion anymore. :) Now I can focus on my Modern historical Investigation and my Extension English seminar.... oh joy. LOL.
I SINCERELY HOPE THAT YOUR DAY WAS BETTER THAN MINE.
P.S There was a hilarious occasion though when halfway through Libby’s refutation she inserted an inside joke and simultaneously we cracked up so hard. Although silently of course. We crying and shaking in our seats in effort to contain ourselves and our laughter. I swear I hadn’t laughed so hard since Dyanne made that joke about Brendan Nelson during Rudd’s sorry speech.
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
It's still bothering me
...how he was flirting with me and I didn't even realise it. And when I finally did it was SIX DAYS LATER.
I am still astounded at the density of my brain. Just because I don't think in primarily sexual innuendo - gah!
Lo and Dyz picked it up so easily.
EVEN MANTHEY DID!!!!
Oh.
Well.
IF.
IF HE WAS indeed flirting,then at least I know that he cares :P
I am still astounded at the density of my brain. Just because I don't think in primarily sexual innuendo - gah!
Lo and Dyz picked it up so easily.
EVEN MANTHEY DID!!!!
Oh.
Well.
IF.
IF HE WAS indeed flirting,then at least I know that he cares :P
REALLY!!!! SHORT.
WHY MUST I BE SO DENSE!!!!!
SO DENSE IN FACT THAT IT TOOK ME SIX DAYS TO REALISE THAT THE OBJECT OF MY AFFECTIONS MAY HAVE JUST BEEN -
ARRGGGH!!
WHY!!!
Note: this is the cleansed, edited version.
SO DENSE IN FACT THAT IT TOOK ME SIX DAYS TO REALISE THAT THE OBJECT OF MY AFFECTIONS MAY HAVE JUST BEEN -
ARRGGGH!!
WHY!!!
Note: this is the cleansed, edited version.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
My mellow Tuesday - EXAMS ARE OVER!!
Um to those that actually read this, congratulations - you've manage to endure the crap that are my blogs. I'm bored, so I post them, or I'm attempting to surmount a writer's block here, so still I post them. Well, how was the Modern History Exam, everyone? Good? Bad? A-Okay?
Personally, it was much easier than I had previously anticipated. =D There were only "Discuss" and "Describe" questions, which was quite simplistic, if you ask me. I was becoming to enthralled with writing up the Kennedy question because I loved that topic, and I think he's awesome. So, anyway all in all the Exam was quite good, the questions weren't too hard "Describe the role of Martin Luther King in the Civil Rights Movement of 50's and 60's"? That was a little too easy if you ask me, and rather broad. Only I had been so relieved about finishing the exam that I had forgotten my entire folder of Modern notes, and classwork up there in the Morley Centre, and had went through three teachers in order to find it - only to discover that it was left on the History Co-ordinator's desk. LOL She thinks we're best buds or something. Although, I am indebted to her for rearranging the entire bloody timetable just so I could actually study Modern, in the first place. I really do hope she doesn't take a peek at it. I have sloppily unfinished work in there.... and stuff not handed in... and remnants of Miss R's incompetent teaching... crap, I really have to retrieve that folder soon.
Okay, well, I'm rambling.
Today, I had every intention of sleeping in, but NO. Louie had to be crying for some unintelligible reason which was like a bloody alarm clock. But anyway, my dad and I went to the bank today and I opened an account. LOL, I'm serious, and then had to inform the lady (whose name was Jan - I think that's a little cliche) that I lost my tax file number years ago...In any case, it's all due to my mum's passionate desire to have me embark on this endeavour into internet businesses and have me selling my stories/photography online and hoarding zillions of dollars from it. Hmmm, self-employed at 16, wouldn't that be lovely? I only wish that I actually possessed the time to invest in such a project.
In any case, in such spare time, I've managed to rewrite the opening of Chapter 2, I am much more satisfied with it now! :) I feel the need to edit Chapter 1, though. Also did a little History Debating, after that debacle the other week that left me with a massive coronary with that extra debate and I'm freaking out. We can do this, intense historical discussion will indeed ensue. And I've got that English speech landed upon me like a freight train, and that's also due. I wish there was an onomatopoeic word to indicate a 'sigh.' Well, I have to go soon and pick up Louie again from Basketball training, I already had to walk up there once to pick him up from school and endure the honking and whistles from those horny/perverted labourers in their utes or those people in their suped up WRX's with their head stuck halfway out the window. It's not like I was wearing anything provocative anyway, gah I hate walking up reservoir road. I'm rambling again, and going on this freaky nonsensical tangent so I'll refocus.
I felt so deprived yesterday afternoon I had been SOOOO looking forward to having a celebratory viewing of 'Fight Club' once exams were over. But NO. TJ has been unavailable, and so I spent Monday night in an abysmal tedium (is that even a word?). Oh and I recently received an email from my cousin in America with a video attached. The video is like totally praising my family and their military efforts which I think, kicks-ass. Congratulations to my cousin Jeremiah, though on becoming - what was it? I'll check again - he was "promoted from Marine Sergeant to 2nd Lieutenant" pretty cool. Also my uncle who's a retired Navy Officer, my aunt who was in the US army and my illustrious grandad was there, in Phoenix to see him receive his medal. LOL my grandfather was receiving this full profile and praise, and I was like -WHOA I didn't know that! I mean I knew he assisted the American war effort in the Philippines by decoding Japanese plans and climbed to Lieutenant Colonel in Philippine airforce - but I had no idea that he became a geurilla fighter at age FOURTEEN. I mean, the man was living in my house just last month before they went back to the states - HOW COULD I NOT KNOW THAT?
Watching that video makes me go shiiiiitt... my family is cool. LOL. My cousins and aunts were featured on that vid, I think that's awesome. Anyhoo, I'm quite tired from having to ferry back and forth from Louie's basketball so I'll end this soon.
ROFLMAO. I just received a call from Tim, and he's stuck at Penrith! LOL he fell asleep from Central to Penrith on the train, so I'm assuming he'd be late. (Insert 'sigh' sound here). I should be returning to the Himalayas worth of work I have stacked up here...
Ciao, ciao my loves,
Until next time -
- deeh xox
Personally, it was much easier than I had previously anticipated. =D There were only "Discuss" and "Describe" questions, which was quite simplistic, if you ask me. I was becoming to enthralled with writing up the Kennedy question because I loved that topic, and I think he's awesome. So, anyway all in all the Exam was quite good, the questions weren't too hard "Describe the role of Martin Luther King in the Civil Rights Movement of 50's and 60's"? That was a little too easy if you ask me, and rather broad. Only I had been so relieved about finishing the exam that I had forgotten my entire folder of Modern notes, and classwork up there in the Morley Centre, and had went through three teachers in order to find it - only to discover that it was left on the History Co-ordinator's desk. LOL She thinks we're best buds or something. Although, I am indebted to her for rearranging the entire bloody timetable just so I could actually study Modern, in the first place. I really do hope she doesn't take a peek at it. I have sloppily unfinished work in there.... and stuff not handed in... and remnants of Miss R's incompetent teaching... crap, I really have to retrieve that folder soon.
Okay, well, I'm rambling.
Today, I had every intention of sleeping in, but NO. Louie had to be crying for some unintelligible reason which was like a bloody alarm clock. But anyway, my dad and I went to the bank today and I opened an account. LOL, I'm serious, and then had to inform the lady (whose name was Jan - I think that's a little cliche) that I lost my tax file number years ago...In any case, it's all due to my mum's passionate desire to have me embark on this endeavour into internet businesses and have me selling my stories/photography online and hoarding zillions of dollars from it. Hmmm, self-employed at 16, wouldn't that be lovely? I only wish that I actually possessed the time to invest in such a project.
In any case, in such spare time, I've managed to rewrite the opening of Chapter 2, I am much more satisfied with it now! :) I feel the need to edit Chapter 1, though. Also did a little History Debating, after that debacle the other week that left me with a massive coronary with that extra debate and I'm freaking out. We can do this, intense historical discussion will indeed ensue. And I've got that English speech landed upon me like a freight train, and that's also due. I wish there was an onomatopoeic word to indicate a 'sigh.' Well, I have to go soon and pick up Louie again from Basketball training, I already had to walk up there once to pick him up from school and endure the honking and whistles from those horny/perverted labourers in their utes or those people in their suped up WRX's with their head stuck halfway out the window. It's not like I was wearing anything provocative anyway, gah I hate walking up reservoir road. I'm rambling again, and going on this freaky nonsensical tangent so I'll refocus.
I felt so deprived yesterday afternoon I had been SOOOO looking forward to having a celebratory viewing of 'Fight Club' once exams were over. But NO. TJ has been unavailable, and so I spent Monday night in an abysmal tedium (is that even a word?). Oh and I recently received an email from my cousin in America with a video attached. The video is like totally praising my family and their military efforts which I think, kicks-ass. Congratulations to my cousin Jeremiah, though on becoming - what was it? I'll check again - he was "promoted from Marine Sergeant to 2nd Lieutenant" pretty cool. Also my uncle who's a retired Navy Officer, my aunt who was in the US army and my illustrious grandad was there, in Phoenix to see him receive his medal. LOL my grandfather was receiving this full profile and praise, and I was like -WHOA I didn't know that! I mean I knew he assisted the American war effort in the Philippines by decoding Japanese plans and climbed to Lieutenant Colonel in Philippine airforce - but I had no idea that he became a geurilla fighter at age FOURTEEN. I mean, the man was living in my house just last month before they went back to the states - HOW COULD I NOT KNOW THAT?
Watching that video makes me go shiiiiitt... my family is cool. LOL. My cousins and aunts were featured on that vid, I think that's awesome. Anyhoo, I'm quite tired from having to ferry back and forth from Louie's basketball so I'll end this soon.
ROFLMAO. I just received a call from Tim, and he's stuck at Penrith! LOL he fell asleep from Central to Penrith on the train, so I'm assuming he'd be late. (Insert 'sigh' sound here). I should be returning to the Himalayas worth of work I have stacked up here...
Ciao, ciao my loves,
Until next time -
- deeh xox
Saturday, 26 April 2008
4:48am supervising inebriated teens. Joy.
This was taken from my Myspace Blog. I know. A rarity.
Hello, if you're actually reading this then wow, welcome to my life. This is how my fruitful ANZAC Day transpired.
If you're still reading, congratulations.
I am currently bored out of my mind here, the fact that I'm using my 'Myspace' Blog is evidence of that. This is seriously unhealthy and transforming me into a nocturnal creature but I gave my word to my mother that I'd supervise them downstairs, provide plastic bags and tupperware if they require a place to project their spew into or tissues, or money for cabs. Why do I, barely 16, currently need to supervise a bunch of 18/19 year olds?
It was Tim's 18th birthday bash. Yay. I was bracing myself for this, as were my parents, and we had incredibly valid reason to. Tim's quite the popular guy, you see. Very popular. Earlier my backyard was transformed into the epitome of teenage partying and all manner of adolescent horror. It was Absinthe, Jim Beam, Johnny Walker, Black label, Smirnoff, Absolut galore! Hmm, terrifying. Now I'm disputing anything against alcohol, I mean sure, it's a social lubricant, it instigates the party - oh whoops there Tim goes again - I better check on him, make sure he doesn't choke on his own... stomach content. Back, and the guys downstairs wanted cereal. Odd. It's 5am, nice and early breakfast. Anyway, I digress, as I was saying. The backyard turned into a nightclub - I am quite serious - could you blame them though? The DJ was awesome. Tim went out frequently to buy drinks etc. pick up people.
The girls were the first to go. Joan was just goooone. She doesn't usually like drinking but she has a rather petite physique so I wasn't surprised that she was lolling around quite quickly. I then had to spend the night comforting her because she was so upset about not letting her parents see her in that sordid condition. She also requested no help from my mother because she didn't want to taint her 'good girl' reputation, I mean hey, I wouldn't either. Her younger brother was also so cute taking care of her. She was the first to throw up. In times like these I wish so terribly that we had a second toilet downstairs. There was a spewing line, if that's what you could call it. Of girls. We had to provide seats along the hallway for girls too inebriated to stand and wait for our crowded bathroom. There were girls in the lounge room lolling around their boyfriends too drunk to even slur a sentence together. It reminded me distinctly of those nineteenth century 'fainting rooms' for women who had to go in and faint because their corsets were depleting their oxygen consumption. Like Elizabeth Swan in Pirates of the Caribbean.
Tim was so smashed, I really can't find another word for it, shitfaced would suffice too. Anyway, he was so far gone he didn't even look drunk anymore. He looked stoned. Stoned to the point that Krish (his wonderful, wonderful girlfriend, he is SO lucky to have her) was very concerned that there could have been drugs at this party. (I doubt it, my parents were monitoring). But seriously, even his vanity could not revive him from his drunken stupor (We tried telling him that he was fat, and gay, but he just gave us the thumbs up). It would be hilarious had I not been so concerned. Then he threw up all over the couch. We managed to grab a bowl in time, but not in time to save the blanket, or the pillows, or his very nice shirt. We managed to clean him up all right - but guess who had to take out the towel, and the blanket and the pillows? Me! Joy! And seriously, the re-examination of my older brother's recent food choices was absolutely grotesque. I was horrified. It was without a doubt, one of the most disgusting things I had ever deigned to accomplish. On a practical note however, I seriously think Tim needs to consider chewing his food more. He passed out first. Krish stayed vigilantly by his side and rubbed his back every time he had to upchuck and made sure he had enough water. etc. She's so nurturing. Anyway, evidently Tim left early for his party.
If you are still reading this, I commend you greatly for your ability to withstand the tediousness of my random drivel.
Who else consumed my time? Oh Shivon, dear, dear Shivon. She was a hilarious drunk, but the amount of times I had to see her Smirnoff and Orange juice flow from her mouth wasn't as funny. She's such a lovely girl, but when she's inebriated she's all limbs and spew and eyeballs rolling into the back of her head. We had to permanently attach the plastic bag to her ears. She was so drunk it was inconceivable. She required three people to help her walk. I was one of them. My mum just looked around with this gravely disapproving look but mopped the floor with me all the same. Poor girl, we had to drive her home. There was other drama and controversy such as this random perverted bloke from somewhere along the street taking advantage over a drunken girl (who for some unforseeable reason) decided to meander down our street alone. And drunk. Don't worry, it wasn't THAT bad but I saw the definite potential for it to become worse.
At the moment, there's about ten guys crashing in my living room, I would say sleeping, but crashing seems much more appropriate for their actions. Two of which, I am quite sure are eating cereal and I'm supervising them! Wow, I feel so mature. My mum was going to do this night vigil until they all fell asleep, but I could tell she was absolutely exhausted. So being the lovely daughter I am, I drank heaps of Coke (for the caffeine of course) and told her that I'd take over, watch over the drunkards in our living room for the night. I'm also keeping a night watch over Tim, he's spewing quite a lot and I'm really concerned. I mean hey, the first drummer of ACDC died because he choked on his own vomit. Stupid way to die, really. Idiotic. So here I am at 5:29am, I haven't slept a wink, and I'm blogging, wow, lol - random. I'm wondering about what I could do to pass the time and I should probably start on studying for English. The one subject I needed most time for, and I'm blowing it off jeez deeh, nice...nice. Well that seems like a very 'Dana' thing to do. When one is bored, study. LOL but I had better, I need to have King Lear read and analysed, like - now. Like I was meant to do it over the summer holidays, like I AM SO BEHIND!
I also need to write up the next newsletter and have it printed. Shit. Why do I take on so many extra curricular activities? I have barely started on Modern (can't think of that now) and I have History Debating to consider. I'm getting myself stressed out. I have English and English extension to do - I'll do that. Oh and my Japanese speech. Ah, shit - that too. I have spare time now, I'd better hop to it. But I feel like writing, I've finally finished and am relatively happy with my 7005 word Chapter one, and I'm currently on my second or third paragraph into Chapter Two. My dreams of becoming a novelist must wait, I guess... I'll read up on King Lear, or do Modern or something... I don't know.
I'm rambling now, and if you are reading it, wow. Just wow. You have an attention span beyond even mine. I had better check on the boys downstairs.
See you when I see you.
Until next time -
- deeh xox
Hello, if you're actually reading this then wow, welcome to my life. This is how my fruitful ANZAC Day transpired.
If you're still reading, congratulations.
I am currently bored out of my mind here, the fact that I'm using my 'Myspace' Blog is evidence of that. This is seriously unhealthy and transforming me into a nocturnal creature but I gave my word to my mother that I'd supervise them downstairs, provide plastic bags and tupperware if they require a place to project their spew into or tissues, or money for cabs. Why do I, barely 16, currently need to supervise a bunch of 18/19 year olds?
It was Tim's 18th birthday bash. Yay. I was bracing myself for this, as were my parents, and we had incredibly valid reason to. Tim's quite the popular guy, you see. Very popular. Earlier my backyard was transformed into the epitome of teenage partying and all manner of adolescent horror. It was Absinthe, Jim Beam, Johnny Walker, Black label, Smirnoff, Absolut galore! Hmm, terrifying. Now I'm disputing anything against alcohol, I mean sure, it's a social lubricant, it instigates the party - oh whoops there Tim goes again - I better check on him, make sure he doesn't choke on his own... stomach content. Back, and the guys downstairs wanted cereal. Odd. It's 5am, nice and early breakfast. Anyway, I digress, as I was saying. The backyard turned into a nightclub - I am quite serious - could you blame them though? The DJ was awesome. Tim went out frequently to buy drinks etc. pick up people.
The girls were the first to go. Joan was just goooone. She doesn't usually like drinking but she has a rather petite physique so I wasn't surprised that she was lolling around quite quickly. I then had to spend the night comforting her because she was so upset about not letting her parents see her in that sordid condition. She also requested no help from my mother because she didn't want to taint her 'good girl' reputation, I mean hey, I wouldn't either. Her younger brother was also so cute taking care of her. She was the first to throw up. In times like these I wish so terribly that we had a second toilet downstairs. There was a spewing line, if that's what you could call it. Of girls. We had to provide seats along the hallway for girls too inebriated to stand and wait for our crowded bathroom. There were girls in the lounge room lolling around their boyfriends too drunk to even slur a sentence together. It reminded me distinctly of those nineteenth century 'fainting rooms' for women who had to go in and faint because their corsets were depleting their oxygen consumption. Like Elizabeth Swan in Pirates of the Caribbean.
Tim was so smashed, I really can't find another word for it, shitfaced would suffice too. Anyway, he was so far gone he didn't even look drunk anymore. He looked stoned. Stoned to the point that Krish (his wonderful, wonderful girlfriend, he is SO lucky to have her) was very concerned that there could have been drugs at this party. (I doubt it, my parents were monitoring). But seriously, even his vanity could not revive him from his drunken stupor (We tried telling him that he was fat, and gay, but he just gave us the thumbs up). It would be hilarious had I not been so concerned. Then he threw up all over the couch. We managed to grab a bowl in time, but not in time to save the blanket, or the pillows, or his very nice shirt. We managed to clean him up all right - but guess who had to take out the towel, and the blanket and the pillows? Me! Joy! And seriously, the re-examination of my older brother's recent food choices was absolutely grotesque. I was horrified. It was without a doubt, one of the most disgusting things I had ever deigned to accomplish. On a practical note however, I seriously think Tim needs to consider chewing his food more. He passed out first. Krish stayed vigilantly by his side and rubbed his back every time he had to upchuck and made sure he had enough water. etc. She's so nurturing. Anyway, evidently Tim left early for his party.
If you are still reading this, I commend you greatly for your ability to withstand the tediousness of my random drivel.
Who else consumed my time? Oh Shivon, dear, dear Shivon. She was a hilarious drunk, but the amount of times I had to see her Smirnoff and Orange juice flow from her mouth wasn't as funny. She's such a lovely girl, but when she's inebriated she's all limbs and spew and eyeballs rolling into the back of her head. We had to permanently attach the plastic bag to her ears. She was so drunk it was inconceivable. She required three people to help her walk. I was one of them. My mum just looked around with this gravely disapproving look but mopped the floor with me all the same. Poor girl, we had to drive her home. There was other drama and controversy such as this random perverted bloke from somewhere along the street taking advantage over a drunken girl (who for some unforseeable reason) decided to meander down our street alone. And drunk. Don't worry, it wasn't THAT bad but I saw the definite potential for it to become worse.
At the moment, there's about ten guys crashing in my living room, I would say sleeping, but crashing seems much more appropriate for their actions. Two of which, I am quite sure are eating cereal and I'm supervising them! Wow, I feel so mature. My mum was going to do this night vigil until they all fell asleep, but I could tell she was absolutely exhausted. So being the lovely daughter I am, I drank heaps of Coke (for the caffeine of course) and told her that I'd take over, watch over the drunkards in our living room for the night. I'm also keeping a night watch over Tim, he's spewing quite a lot and I'm really concerned. I mean hey, the first drummer of ACDC died because he choked on his own vomit. Stupid way to die, really. Idiotic. So here I am at 5:29am, I haven't slept a wink, and I'm blogging, wow, lol - random. I'm wondering about what I could do to pass the time and I should probably start on studying for English. The one subject I needed most time for, and I'm blowing it off jeez deeh, nice...nice. Well that seems like a very 'Dana' thing to do. When one is bored, study. LOL but I had better, I need to have King Lear read and analysed, like - now. Like I was meant to do it over the summer holidays, like I AM SO BEHIND!
I also need to write up the next newsletter and have it printed. Shit. Why do I take on so many extra curricular activities? I have barely started on Modern (can't think of that now) and I have History Debating to consider. I'm getting myself stressed out. I have English and English extension to do - I'll do that. Oh and my Japanese speech. Ah, shit - that too. I have spare time now, I'd better hop to it. But I feel like writing, I've finally finished and am relatively happy with my 7005 word Chapter one, and I'm currently on my second or third paragraph into Chapter Two. My dreams of becoming a novelist must wait, I guess... I'll read up on King Lear, or do Modern or something... I don't know.
I'm rambling now, and if you are reading it, wow. Just wow. You have an attention span beyond even mine. I had better check on the boys downstairs.
See you when I see you.
Until next time -
- deeh xox
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