The beginning of the end.

And so, the day has all but come. Tomorrow night, in the most dramatic terms, I shall be starting my new life for the next two years. The daunting phase is over- as is the apprehensive, the scared, the “I think I’ma wet my pants”… the excited stage is nearing, invited or not, and one plane ride later I will be in the big city.

To this small town, I again say goodbye- until next holidays, I will miss you. And when next holidays come around, I will dread you.

To my Mum- I will miss you most of all. Everything that has happened, you have been the constant. Without that, I may crumble.

Alas, that is all I can think of to say. If I have access to the net, you betcha I’ll be writing- if not, you betcha I’ll find a way. J xxx

Australia Day 2007

Living in
Australia, growing up here, is more than I could ever have asked. Some people say “the lucky country”- for me, it’s the only country. Not that I’ve met all that many people from overseas, but I can say with certainty that, as a people, Australian’s really do have a “vibe”. We hold ourselves differently, we live a much more laid-back lifestyle. No hustle and bustle of
New York City, no crime of the Middle East- Pedophilia like in many Asian countries? Forget about it. By no means am I saying we are better people. But this place, this lifestyle- this is how I want my children to grow up- with all the opportunities I have, and more.

And so today, on Australia Day, most Aussies will get drunk, watch the fireworks with many exaggerated “oohs” and “ahhs”… and we’ll be celebrating what we cherish so much.

More terrifying than your naked Gran – I kid you not!

One thing I’ll never do is swim with sharks. They terrify me to no end- and I can just see myself flailing around in the shark cage, knocking myself out, accidentally tripping the latch and being chomped up slowly by man’s most feared predator. What? It could happen! And while I’m on the topic of scary natural killers, spiders horrify me. 8 legs- not natural, not desirable, and definitely not the last thing I want to remember of life on earth. And another thing- after watching that uber-pathetic, yet surprisingly petrifying “Snakes on a Plane” (which, btw, was probably Samuel L. Jackson’s worst movie to date); I’m not all too fond of the thought of lying in a pit of snakes either.

I don’t hate.

However many time I’ve thought it, said it, and thought I’d meant it, I’ve never said “I hate you” with any actual feeling. Sure, I dislike people. I dislike a great many people. I even despise some people. But hate? It’s a very commonly-used word, and don’t get me wrong, I say it more often than I say “I love you”… but I think I’ll try and cut down. I have no idea how I’d feel if someone said “I hate you”… it would cut me real deep.

Mooshy eggs and tattoo woes.

- I tried to make myself an egg, “sunny side up” the other day. It ended up exploding, mooshing together and even had a bit of the pan on it when all was said and done. I’ve decided that, before I move out, I will be buying multiple “how to” books on the basic household chores like cooking and cleaning- hoping and praying that they make those.

- Ever since forever I have wanted tattoos. 3 or 4, simple and meaningful. Lately, talk has turned to tattoos and I find myself craving them. Mum’s a bit of a nazi when it comes to these things though- thankfully, this time in 3 years, I’ll be able to make my own decisions on such important matters.

- I blew off going to the beach today- the girl I was supposed to be going with has been irritating me lately, and I can think of nothing worse than spending an afternoon in her company.

- I’ll be in the city this time next week. It’s funny; boarding school seemed much more appealing 6 weeks ago- but now? Well it’s far too close for comfort and I feel a headache coming on.

- I’ve never been any good at Math. In fact, I’ve never been any good at flying kites or making paper planes, either. But last term in Math I did better than I’ve ever done. Probably b/c I tried harder than I’ve ever tried, but that’s just in the details.

- It was 38 degrees inside when I got home from work today- how was I supposed to know the air-con had two modes, and that I’d set it to the wrong one??

And alas, my involuntary crush on said boy is becoming even more complicated- turns out the boy may have cancer- again.

<3 Chick

Boys things that girls hate.

It’s common knowledge- Boys are annoying. So here I am, taking a stand for all girls, listing the things that piss us off most about the opposite sex. (Please note: This is just a sample in a long line of things that are infuriating).

 

1.) Ogling.

It is one thing to look at a pretty girl- acknowledge she has nice curves/ boobs/ a pretty face. You can even give her a (only slightly suggestive) smile- these things are appropriate. It is quite another to ogle- to hang out of your car window, to give “the nod”- to basically make a girl feel that she is being undressed by your eyes. Believe it or not- this does not make one feel sexy. (Note: Wolf-whistling, winking like a loon and yelling obscene things are also on the “do not” list.)

 

2.) Going too fast.

Sure, it’s great to stick it in, but spare a thought for the poor girl on the other end who’s feeling nothing but the strong urge to punch you in the face. One word: Sandpaper. Nobody likes to think of their sexual experiences as excruciating, unsatisfying and generally a waste of their life.

 

3.) Pressure.

Face it man- you can tell her how many of your mates and her mates are getting it on- you can buy her porn- you can even pull a sooky face and become suddenly “introverted” when she actually wants to watch the movie you guys paid to see. Unless your girl or prospective date is a slut or has very low self esteem, if she doesn’t want to sex you- she won’t. And the way you’re going you’ll end up getting an elbow to the groin and a not-so-subtle “It’s over” for your efforts.

 

4.) Jealousy.

Now this one’s tough. Girls are big fat hypocrites. If you want to spend the day with your neighbor whom you’ve known since birth, who happens to be sexy, slutty and seductive, chances are your girl will say “over my dead body”. Girls, on the other hand, like to flirt. It’s nothing against you personally- but a woman has to know that other men, besides you, whom she loves, find her attractive. This’ll probably happen with her engaging in a little flirty banter- but when she starts going on camping trips with his folks your little red flag should go up.

 

5.) Fashion.

The way you dress matters. Truth is, you could be the coolest guy she’s ever met but if you’re still wearing FUBU and “bling”- it’ll never happen. Same goes if you tuck in your shirts and wear thongs with jeans. If she suggests some new shoes- ask her which she likes. If you hate them, tell her so. Pick a similar style which you both don’t despise. Yeah, it sounds like you’re changing for her… because, well, you are. But if this is the girl you love, and possibly your future wife- wouldn’t wearing nike rather than those old crocodile boots do you all some good??

 

There are many, many, many other pet hates that girls harbor for boys. Whether you like it or not, certain things you do shit us to tears. Literally.

The male mind is almost as complicated as the female one.

I wish there was a way to get inside a boy’s head, which didn’t involve putting yourself out. You see, there’s a guy. (I know, with me, there’s always a guy.)

But this guy is different to all the others… well, to an extent. I mean, his smile still makes my knees weak, when he says/ does something nice I try to give the biggest/cutest/nicest smile all at once, I find myself thinking about him at the randomest moments (ie. all the time), and wondering if he’s doing the same… but that’s about where the similarities end.

And so, this crush, as with all crushes, comes with complications. In this case, more complications than usual.

Problem 1: Age.

You see, you wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he’s 18. No getting around it, my (slightly overprotective) Mum would disapprove greatly, and we won’t even get started on my Step Dad. I’d pick him for 16, 17 at the most. But nooo God had to go all kooky on us and have him born 3 years before me.

Problem 2: Appearance.

He is as far as you could get from Pete. In fact, he’s a far as you could get from any guy I’ve ever crushed on in my life. I guess that’s what trips me out most- he’s not my usually definition of “hot”, or “good looking”… at most, I’d go for “cute”.

Problem 3: Reality.

Reality is, he has a crap job. He has a not-quite ancient car, and my Mum is a Nazi when it comes to boys. She pulls this face and I tune out somewhere between “Only interested in sex” and “Why don’t you stay single for a while?” Reality is, I’m moving away to boarding school, and I can’t trust myself with long-distance things.

Problem 4: My Feelings.

This is probably what wakes me up most at night. I don’t know whether or not I truly like him, or perhaps he’s just an outlet for my built-up flirting muscle? Maybe I’m just desperate for some action and/or attention? Worse still, maybe I’m just an attention seeker.

Problem 5: His Feelings.

Well this is the part where I want to throw in the towel and walk away. As of yet, he’s not made a move. (Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known him just under a week… but still!). Subtle hints, like a smile or eye contact that lingers just too long… Or maybe he’s just being nice. I mean, is it too much to ask for a guy to get down on one knee and have flowers delivered to your door? I’m joking, guys. Though at least if he did that I’d know how he felt.

So the way I see it, it can go 3 ways:

1. Ask him out, with blessings from my folks. Get a yes, have a great little fling, perhaps continue it on next holidays.

2. Don’t ask him out. Sit around waiting and wondering, realise we’re just friends, find someone else to turn my attention to.

3. Ask him out, get a no. Be sufficiently embarrassed for the rest of my natural life and have to work with him every day.

4. Ask him out, have my folks hate him, things go sour, everything sucks at work.

5. Don’t ask him out. Maybe he likes me back, maybe not. Go off to boarding school and never know what could’ve happened.

 

We can all see which is the most desirable… but the truth is, I’m a stupid whimp and chances are it’ll remain a one-sided love affair until the end of the month. =)

Reactions to life’s difficulties and shit.

One of the worst things in the world must be losing someone you love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those pompous, assuming pricks that don’t have a damn clue what they’re talking about.

As I’ve mentioned more than a few times before, my Daddy died when I was 9. 6 years have passed and the pain has all but faded. I’m not about to launch into a rant on how hard I’ve had it or how painful it all was- I’ve done that a few times before, too. No, what I really want to focus on is how people deal with things differently.

Mum (cynical female that she is), says that many people have bad things happen to them, but only some adopt a “victim mentality” (her words, not mine) and begin to believe that everything works against them.

And thinking about it now, I kinda agree. I mean, I know people my age who have worked themselves into such a self-destructive rut that I’d be surprised if they got their lives on track at all in the next ten years.

I’m pretty much speaking of one mate in particular.

He had a hard childhood. He really did and I’m not one to dispute that. His parents sucked at the most important job there is, he got lost in a world of hate and contempt for the world, and even now- especially now- he can’t seem to find a way to sort his life out. Not through lack of trying. He even moved across the state in a bid to find closure and a new start. But still “he has it bad” and he can’t stand to leave anything to chance. I worry for him greatly and I think it’s contributing to the pimple forming on my upper lip.

On the other hand, I’ve another mate in a similar situation. But he never kicked the bucket and grew disdainful and cold. In fact, he picked up a great job, and has a real plan for the future which I personally would love to see come into effect. I am so proud, and in fact, astonished at the way he has handled himself and I love to think that I have friends who can do that.

Now, I started the post with a little speal about losing a loved one. I fell into a dark hole of depression (oh God that was cliché) for a couple of years, and pretty much turned into on of those people I now find pathetic. It took a lot of help from my Mum and a few close mates to get me back on track, and if I hadn’t had those people there (yes Anushka, this means you), I probably would be a drug-addict, alcoholic, and… well, I’d be acting like a 15 year old hussy.

So if I’ve gone around in circles and contradicted myself- so sue me, you should expect that by now.

Up Late Update

Hmmm, update of the current happenings in my life:

 

-         I went over to Rach’s house today- wasn’t half as awkward as anticipated. We swam in her pool, went for a walk along the beach and watched Napoleon Dynamite, afterwards contenting ourselves with Harry Potter (honestly- the whole of Foxtel and we were watching Harry Potter??). She’s such a great girl, faults and all- I mean, I don’t really think she knows how strong she truly is.

-         You’ll be interested to know I’ve apologized to my ex for my outburst on Christmas, which basically consisted of hurtful (yet surprisingly releviing) phrases such as “I hate you” and “Never speak to me again” yada yada yada… Putting aside my strong sense of pride, yes I overreacted, but at the time I had reason to.

-         Back to work tomorrow… could very well die of boredom and frustration, but assuming that I don’t, I’ll have another $300 by the end of this week. The place is driving me mad- but I guess going back to work is the lesser of two evils- it’s either working and earning money, or staying at home, bored to the point of eating my own arm.

-         School is looming closer and closer… not a pretty thought. I may have mentioned this once of twice before, but living with a bunch of hormonal teenagers is not what I would call “appealing”.

-         Mum and Step Dad have been acting a little… off, lately. Not 100% sure why. In fact, I think it could be the mere fact that they’re over having kids in the house, and boarding school is a brilliant way to get rid of me, at least for a while.

 

Alas, my bro is coming over (yes I’m home alone again- what a sad life I lead) and we’re going to get tea… From Chicken Treat. Ugh. As I said to Shona, my family is making me fat.

xx

(Later)

P.S.(standing for, I have been told- “post script”) I currently am menstruating, and hence, my tummy is bloated, my mood swings are bad (well, worse than usual), and I do think it’s about time that I went to bed.

Nothing left for me to do but Dance…

Hobbies are a funny thing. They really are. I’d liken it to love. One person/thing inspires another. It brings our passion, lust, enthusiasm. I kind of pity people who don’t have a hobby of some kind. It’s like they’re missing the feeling that others get- the feeling you get from one activity that stirs you to the very core.

I’ve had a passion for dancing since my Mum convinced me to give it a go when I was nine years old.

I still remember it clearly- believe it or not I was a little shy back then. Self conscious, body conscious, skin conscious, hell, I could have been the poster girl for “introverts-r-us”.

I didn’t want to try new things. Netball season was over and Mum was trying to get me involved in some kind of social/physical activity. Not that I can blame her. No-one wants to raise a recluse. So she gets a flyer in the mail, and asks me if I want to give dancing a go. Well, of course I gave her the “Are you mad woman? Just let me be!” look, and thinking back now, I probably hurt her feelings.

But still she made me go along. It was hard at first- I was the eldest girl there, I had little to no coordination… I felt hopelessly out of place and I knew my face was beetroot red.

But after the first lesson, I went back.

I guess, deep down, even in that stage of my life, I’ve always been a show-pony. Well, for lack of a better word. I love the stage. That’s my favourite thing of all. Being on a huge stage, all by myself, smiling and winking and basically showing off to a judge, and then hoping to God I get a place against all the other girls who do the exact same.

It’s the sort of rush you have to get used to. An acquired taste.

I mean, I remember the first time I ever went on stage. I’ve never felt anything like it. A hundred people scrutinizing your every move, laughing shamelessly when you fuck up- it was crazy. I never knew I had such thick skin. My partner Alex and I did a jazz duo to “Can’t get you out of my head” by Kylie Minogue. We got second, and from the moment he gave us the medal, I was hooked.

Every year after that, which makes it about 7 years now, I worked my ass off in order to be on par with the kids I competed against. We were always the underdog. Our school was just new, and not half as prestigious as any of the other posh, strict dance schools.

But I’d never have stuck with it if it weren’t for C. She’s not only my dance teacher, but one of my closest and most trusted friends too. If I was ever in trouble, and I couldn’t go to my Mum, she’d be there for me.

I know how strict and cruel other dance schools are, which makes me a hundred times more grateful that I found C’s. The atmosphere is so relaxed. I found that many times I preferred to be there, in the cold or the heat, with the ants and the hard concrete floors, just because I felt so part of it. I don’t know if that makes any sense.

Knowing that this year I won’t be going back, it kills me. Knowing that I’m losing my technique and my fitness too- it hurts. You might think “But you’ll be doing ‘Dance Studies’ at school”, but it’ll never be the same.

In all honesty, I loved my dance school because I was good at what I did- in fact, for many years I was the best. Until I moved, of course- yet another reason why I resent this town.

So I’ve ranted on far too long about my “hobby”. You can tell a lot about a person from what they do in their spare time. Wonder what you think about me.