There’ll be no money-jingling for me this festive season.

Alas, Christmas is upon us once more. Anushka and I started the dreaded “Christmas shopping” yesterday, when a short trip to “Livo” (Oh God, Oh God Oh God Oh God… do not call it Livo. Do not call it Livo. Do NOT call it Livo!!) Ahem. Moving on. When a short trip to our local shopping centre turned into a combined $100 shopping spree. In my defense, she spent $80, as opposed to my #31.89.

I got my older bro, who just got his apprenticeship, BTW J, a book called “The Betrayed”, by David Hosp. I don’t actually know what it’s about, but I half-read the blurb and it sounds pretty my-bro-ish.

After a consultation with Anushka, I have decided to get Mum one of those weird foot-rolly-massage things. We saw one at a friend’s house and Mum fell in love. But honestly, she must be the most difficult person I’ve ever had to buy for.

Except my Step-Dad, Paul. Because fishing is his only hobby/interest/thing he doesn’t hate, other than drinking and working, we settled on a fishing knife- engraved with something deep and meaningful, which I have yet to think of.

As for the three musketeers- the gorgeous girls who I will never find replacements for, and had a very hard time leaving behind- I’m thinking I’ll get them each a little glass angel- because they are, really, my angels.

As for Pete, as he made read this I shall go into no specifics… but I am poor, so he best not be expecting much J

Alas, Christmas is one of those things, like beetroot and parents-in-law. You either love it dearly, and put up all your sparkling lights, or else you hate it- and want to stomp on its face and wonder how your beloved ever came from the womb of such a beast. Oh. Hmm. I mean, either you love the Big Fat Red Man, or you hate him. J

And I do enjoy Christmas- it really makes me feel part of something bigger than myself. J xxxx

FAT CHICK. :p

“God must’ve loved calories- he made so many of them.”

You see, lately, like the self-obsessed image-conscious teenager that I try so hard not to be, I have been worrying about my weight.

I’ve been trying and trying to put it out of my mind- no-one likes a girl who cries “I’m getting so fat!” every time she eats a potato chip.

Alas, my fears were confirmed yesterday morning. Now, I have these jeans… Uber-sexy, they are, and one of my fave pairs. I tried them on, you know, just coz I can. Well, unfortunately for Porky Pig over here, they came up to my thighs and would budge no further. I was distraught. My Maccas eating, cake-shoveling, couch-potato days had finally caught up with me.

I have never been one to worry about looks. There are, of course, more important things to worry about, like World Peace, poverty, Global Warming, litter, whether or not Anushka and I will ever get out of the country together…

But one must give in to their adolescent urges eventually, no?

Damn Jennifer Hawkins and those bloody photo-shopped pics! Haha Love me. xx

Once smallpox was eradicated, God made my Nan…

The old saying goes “You can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends.” And it’s very, very true. For, if I could choose those who make up my family, I certainly would not have chosen my Nanna and Pop- two of the most unbearable people I have ever met.

Bossy. Manipulative. Bitchy, Nasty, Cold. Controlling, Hypocritical, Racist and Judgmental. That’s my
Nan to a T. She treats my Pop with little to no respect, talking down to him as you would to a dog that had an accident in your bed. How he stands it is beyond me- but then again, they’ve been at it for years. She has an urge to control absolutely everything, and stresses herself out worrying about other people’s problems. She swears like a trooper, and when something goes wrong, it magically becomes someone else’s fault.

And my Pop? Useless, old and senile, the man has lost his mind. And his hearing too, might I add. Every time I talk to the loud, happy-go-lucky old idiot I see the onset of dementia.

And now I’ve concreted myself in the “World’s Most Awful Person” Hall of Fame, I’d like to say this- after what was said above, after pretty much stripping my Grandparents of any Web-dignity, they mean well. After all, they took me in, years after their own teenagers left home. And they would do anything for one of their own- which is a lot more than can be said for a lot of the other moron’s roaming this earth.

So to all you control-freaks, to those of you who are deaf (or just have selective hearing), and mostly, to you Grandparents (*cough Sandra), I don’t mind. I’d rather have to olds I’ve been stuck with than anybody else’s. J

Envy and Vanity go hand in hand.

In a perfect world, jealousy would be an emotion one did not feel very often- rather than the horrible twinge I fight so hard to keep at bay everyday. It’s not as though I dislike myself- but there are definitely areas for improvement. I mean, I could do with Courtney’s stomach. The expression “Washboard”, when referring to a tummy, had never meant anything to me. Until that day in the city when Courtz was wearing that uber-hot orange top… And Lisa’s skin- I’ve seen that girl every day at school for ten months, and not once was she shiny or sporting a pimple. I mean, is that even possible? Her skin was flawless- not a fleck of makeup in sight. I could do with Andy’s sense of humor- some people come across as weird- some come across as funny. Andy comes across as completely abnormal but with a sense of humour that outweighs any of his flaws. And I wouldn’t mind having Ellie K’s thighs- they’re far from stick-thin, which just makes me feel ill, but are also a far cry from the things I have over here spreading out like pancake batter… And, I would totally kill to have Jeff’s brains. Not only is the kid a walking genius, he’s a fricken champ at basically every sport he tries… Some people have all the luck. I mean, there are so many people I feel envy towards every day. But it’s a good sort of envy, I think. I mean, I’ve not yet clawed anyone’s eyes out. I’m genuinely happy that these people have been blessed with good genes. That said, it can get a little much seeing the natural beauty going on around me all day, every day.

River Cruise

This past Tuesday our year ten group went on the River Cruise. It was amazing to see how much effort even the slobbiest (is that even a word?) of kids put into looking half-decent. I finally found something to wear, my outfit consisting of cropped pants and a cute halteneck top, and some seriously hot (and seriously painful, might I add) heels. (Side Note- The guy (and I know it was a guy- only males are so idiotic) who invented heels deserves a bullet. So painful! Argh!) Everyone was dancing- the night went off. I mean, it was definitely worth the $25, and aside from the time Fat Theresa dirty-danced with Ben the cousin-fucker, everything was pretty clean. Mum and Paul have been down since Monday- it’s been nice to see them and all, but lately all they seem to do is argue and fight. And I’d hardly be selfish enough to say they were ruining the time for me, because it’s their holiday too. But really! They’re getting as bad as Nanna and Pop, and they don’t even realize it. Ugh. Now, I have my dancing concert tonight, so I best go and get packed and ready and all that jazz. One last note- We’re going to the cemetery tomorrow afternoon (after much probing from me) to pay a very belated visit to my Dad. Much love, xxxx chick

Dance! Guilt! Argh!

I’m not sure whether or not it’s just me, but I really, really have a problem with guilt. I mean, I feel guilty about making Mum/Paul/Brother drive me to work- even though that’s the only way I can get there. I feel guilty having C take me to and from dancing twice a week- even though she lives just around the corner. I feel guilty lying to my friends- I feel guilty telling them the truth. I’m just a big fat guilt-sack, who can’t do a thing for herself without worrying about the repercussions (is that the right word?) on those around her.

So, my latest guilt-inspiring problem happens to be associated with C, my Dance teacher, whom also happens to be one of the coolest people in the world, and who has changed my prejudice views on Asian people forever.

Okay, so, Tuesday is my big interview at the school. If I get in, I will become a God-loving (Ahem? Not even Religious, people! Not EVEN RELIGIOUS!!), uniform-wearing, non-makeup-wearing boarder at the school. If so, I will, as the term boarding suggests, be boarding there (ah, it makes sense now, doesn’t it?)…

And hence, Wednesday night dancing is out of the question, right? Well, I thought so. And I was depressed, because I couldn’t go back next year. But that’s life right?

WRONG.

C seems to think I’ll be back next year- to learn her dances, to teach her classes… And as many times I’ve said “Uh… it’s not gonna happen” she goes into “All your Mum has to do is write a note! You can catch a bus to Coreena’s house… then stay over mine on Wednesday nights, then catch a train back in the morning…”

Uh… awkward situation. Mum says “Haha… no.” Something about concentrating on studies… it’s like a 2 hour train trip in the morning… So basically, it’s a no-go.

But then… I really, really, really want to go back to Dancing next year- I’m nowhere near as fit as I was, and… OMG… Amanda has become a better dancer than me! (bahaha… I sound so immature… Jesus). But it’s true. I was always the best at Dancing- there, I was in my element. But now… well, the only thing I’ve ever beaten others at, I’m not good at it anymore…

So that’s all for tonight (so much for a short post…)

Much love, x x x x

DRIIIVVVIIIINNNGGGGGGG

In Australia, when you turn 16, you’re eligible for your Learner’s Permit, or L-plates. This enables you to practice, with a qualified driver present, driving on the road. After you have completed 25 hours of practice, and had your “log-book” signed, you then get a practical test with a driving instructor, and if you pass, you get your Provisional License, or P-Plates. This means you can drive alone, just like a regular full-license driver, only with more restrictions, for 3 years (I think), and then you get your License. Ah, the ever-illusive license.
The reason I’m going into all that boring stuff about licenses and stuff is because the Government (always thinking of more stupid things to waste their money on) decided it was a good idea for the L-Plate theory test to be done at school by Year 10’s (15 year olds), and if they pass, when they turn 16 they simply go into to licensing centre and flash the certificate to get their L-plates. Following me so far?
So last week we all sat the “L-Plates theory test”, and today we found out the results. I passed with 28/30. Not bad for someone who’d not revised, I thought. Anushka, my ever-impressive bestie beat us all with 30/30. Trust her to show me up :p
Wow, that was a lot of typing just to say “I passed a test”…
So I’m back at Nan’s tonight- No more crazy church-people!!! (Did I mention I’d been staying with my Aunt and her Priest-husband, not to mention their two kids under 5, for the past week?) And to make things one-hundred million times better than they are now, Mum’s coming to visit on Monday. That’s 3 days away, guys. Just 3!
I totally can’t wait to go back home. I really can’t. But thankfully, most of the teary homesickness type crap has gone away…
Had a few problems with jealousy and the like, lately, but at the risk of sounding silly and possessive, I’ll not talk about it and just try to let it go.
 Considerably more enthusiastic about this weekend, much love, xxxx chick.

Anything but the emo hair…

I have just realised how much, over the past few months, this blog has turned from a hobby into an outlet. Reading back, I actually don’t understand how I could’ve been so damn negative this whole time and not noticed. I’m hoping that now I’ve seen how emo I’m becoming, there’ll be a bit of a change in the Happychick writings… Perhaps I’ll be “happy” again…

So, I finally got my hair done. And not emo.  They actually went a bit mad with the choppage- It pretty much just brushes my shoulders- which could be a problem for my dance concert next week, when it’s supposed the be tied back… She also put in some foils- blonde ones. VERY blonde. But I guess, as an Aunt of mine once said- change is as good as a holiday.

School’s been pretty easy- we had an L-plates test today- I’m yet to find out if I’m fit to drive. DRIVE! Me? Thank God it’s a year before I’m physically allowed behind the wheel- I’d hate to think of myself on the road. :p

I’m staying with another Aunt of mine while Nan and Pop are in Singapore (gee thanks for leaving me behind, guys.) It’s only the second night, so I wont be quick to judge, but I’ve found it pretty nice- apart from their two kids under 5. (Have I ever mentioned how much I despise kids? They’re all snotty and sticky- and when they finish being snotty and sticky? They become snobby and slutty. Perfect.)

I’m sleeping at Cel’s tonight (my Dance teacher and close mate), and tomorrow we’re all heading into town for the dress rehearsal (dude, I really can’t believe how close the concert is already!!)

Clever old Happychick left her charger at Nan’s- so she won’t have a phone for over a week. Ugh. How the fuck am I supposed to keep in contact with Mum/Pete/Everyone/Pete…. ?? I ask you that. Haha. Trust me not to think ahead.

Must go and pack my bags for tonight… And shave my underarms (I don’t know how it can be so bad already! That stuff grows like… Stuff that grows fast. UGH!)

Much love, thanks for all the comments (better late than never) x x x x

I’m doin alright… thanks so much for asking!

I had a horrible sensation today. You see, we have a teacher at school, a little Asian man, who continuously gives us lectures on the future. Personally, I find them quite intriguing, but a lot of the kids (who have heard the lectures many times before) see it all as a bit of a joke. So, he was in our class today, delivering another of his “speeches”, and he held up the clock. Now, I must admit I wasn’t listening to what he was saying, but as that little red hand ticked around and around, I thought to myself “There goes a second of my life. And another. And another. I am dying.” It was a little frightening, may I tell you.
My Math teacher (an awesome young guy with one hand that works and another that’s a little… mutated.) says to me today
“You’ve missed out on a lot of what we’ve already been through, but the fact that you work so hard and are willing to learn really surprises me. You’re results, I can be certain, will be better than that of half the class.”
It’s stuff like this that kinda makes it all worthwhile. I’ve never been really excellent at school- up there with the smart kids, but not high enough to merit any special credit. I suppose this whole notion of “DOING you homework” is kinda paying off .
Had an awesome Halloween, spending the night in with Anushka and “The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants”… I actually think we had more fun then than we would’ve had out in the cold, Trick-ot-Treating…