A Clue- No

I went to visit my Dad on Saturday. Like I promised I would. There was a funeral going on so I figured Mum’s prediction of a salivating murderer, though possible, was unlikely due to the large number of people around carrying pokey umbrellas. I was completely out of place- I can imagine how Converse and jeans must look to those mourning. Nevertheless, I went. I cried a little, just to show that I meant it. Then something happened that I hadn’t planned on, or experienced before. I got angry. It was strange- cemeteries are much like churches, aren’t they? You don’t swear, you don’t get angry and there’s usually a fat man muttering seemingly to himself. I was angry at “God”. They spend hours and hours each day preaching “his message” to us here, but I tend to believe my Gran on these things- if God were real, he wouldn’t mess with people’s lives the way that it happens now.

It amazes me how difficult people are surprised when there’s public backlash. The look on their faces is enough to send me to hospital in a laughing fit. Dictators wonder why their entire country plan a coup, incompetent parents are confused when their kids get into drugs… and Burgess- oh, wasn’t Burgess shocked this evening when our housemother blasted her as ignorant and arrogant and- how did she put it?- “far from little”- yes, the look on that frustrating sadistic bitch when her own friends laughed and voiced their agreeance- that was enough to keep me going for a week. It bothers me that though she knows- and has known for a while, I gather- that everyone she’s ever met- including her own parents- dislike her- that she’ll never do a thing to change.

Both my folks have been very, very sick of late- blood tests and hospital, as such. Mum’s convinced she’s got gall stones, which bodes well for none of us- when she’s sick, her mood suffers as well. Thank God it’s not the holidays.

I’ve fulfilled my life’s dream of obtaining the Robin Hood box set, and Casey and I have been quietly obsessed with it for the past four days. I was in tears as Roy died- Casey’d never admit it but she too was distressed.

I’m dying to see Anushka this weekend- this blog has been my only outside contact since I’ve been back. She’s honestly the only person these days I can relate to without finding faults in her appearance/ personality/ ability to hold a conversation.

I’ve totally fallen in love with Damon Albarn, as in Blur and the Gorillaz Damon Albarn. He reminds me surprisingly a lot of Jonas Armstrong, and I’m weighing up which one I’d like to marry most, in order to make alterations to my “List”… and that’s about the extent of excitement of Boarding life at the moment.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Harry Potter 7 was fantastic. I read and read until my eyes went numb; determined to complete it before returning to boarding. My opinion aside, many have commented on the book critically, saying that it’s boring, or confusing, and less-intense than it’s predecessors. For me, however, it wasn’t only the book that made the whole affair so exciting. It was the lead-up. I could hardly sleep the night before, and I’m only a tiny bit ashamed to admit that I had my own private hourly count-down going on. It was the anticipation that made it worthwhile. It was the lead-up to it and the ultimate realization that there will be NO MORE HARRY.

JK Rowling is more than a talented storyteller- she’s a very economically smart woman. She knew as well as you or I did that she could have written anything- anything at all, and it would’ve sold hundreds of millions of copies. I can bet she won’t be all that disturbed at a few unimpressed teenagers- no, indeed, as we say it in Aus, “She’ll be laughing all the way to the bank”.

I’ve always wanted to be an author, from the very moment I could read. And the Harry Potter books gave me hope and reassured me that there are people out there who still do read- kids who can spare an hour or two away from the TV or the computer. And from the very moment I opened “The Philosophers Stone”, I knew that this was what I would aspire to.

In other news, I got an 89% on my Math test, I’ve not shed a single homesick tear since I’ve been back, and I’m going to go and see my Dad on Saturday, as this past one was the 7^th anniversary of his Deathday. Mum’s unaware- she doesn’t like the idea of my going alone to the cemetery; “There are too many weirdo’s who hang out in that sort of place”- understandably, of course, but I’ll do it all the same.

But Human Bio calls, and I will return with another post relatively soon- that is assuming that there are those of you out there still interested.

I cannot explain it. Paranormal

It’s no secret to you regulars on this site that I’m a little left-of-centre. As much as being different has become the “in thing”, and trends like “emo” have emerged, it’s still difficult to be a… whatever you’d label me, in a world like ours.

I have premonitions. I know, alarm bells ringing, crazy person begins to talk all “Final Destination” and whatever. It’s nothing like that. The spiritual world, magic, the “other dimension”- I’m not sure what you guys call it, if anything at all- it’s not something I like to dabble in. It’s not something to be toyed with and, if encountered, it’s not something to be taken lightly. In my opinion, anyway.

I got a feeling last holidays. I was talking to my friend and I said to her, “You know, I have never been to a school where someone has died”. Three days later Rhi died in hospital after a long fight with cancer. It was upsetting, it was bizarre- but it wasn’t supernatural. I had a feeling. That’s all. It happens.

About a week and a half later I was out fishing with my family. Our boat is, massive. But I was afraid. A phobia of sharks isn’t uncommon. But I had a feeling. I call them premonitions, though no vision has to occur. We spent the day on the ocean and saw little more than a sea turtle. The very next day Stepfather and his friend went fishing to the same area. Two tiger sharks circled the boat for ten minutes. Like I said, our boat is massive- nothing happened.

Seemingly insignificant things like predicting what afternoon tea the ladies at boarding will serve, and knowing whether a fellow classmate has passed or failed their assessment doesn’t freak me out- but it’s bizarre. These things happen. My Mum believes me, but she’s one of few who do. I was called crazy tonight. I don’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s too much for some to handle.

Maybe I’m imagining it. Like my tendency to be a hypochondriac, perhaps I want so badly to be set apart that I force these things into my head. But I don’t think so. My mother is the biggest skeptic out, but she told me that everyone has the ability to see, or experience abnormalities, but only some tap into that.

Am I crazy? I’m not planning to grow up and make money from fortune telling. I don’t claim to know what the future holds or when the apocalypse is due. It happens. That’s all I know. To be honest it is a little scary. I can’t get on a plane and know whether my uneasy feeling is natural nerves, or something more sinister. Sinister’s not the right word, but you understand. Don’t you?

And yet another happychick ramble that I cannot explain. It sucks being such a control freak and not knowing whether, at 15, you’re losing your mind.

Good Lord I have nice hands.

I caught up with Kk today- RACK is dead and buried but it was so nice to be able to talk to her just like we used to. She’s on a health kick similar to my own- the only difference being that perhaps she’s more consistent and motivated.

I bought the new Missy Higgins album “On a Clear Night” when we were away last week- I saw her live once, did I mention? She wasn’t wearing any shoes, which at the time made her very strange- probably the reason why I love her and her music so much.

Mum bleached my cons and so they look (almost) as good as new. I can vaguely recall when only “emos” wore Converse- just goes to show how things change, right?

I think one of the biggest things about going away and coming back is that the kids in this town judge you on your return. Suddenly I’ve slept with him and dress like that- I’m not the same, I’ve changed, I’m a “city bitch”… Sometimes it’s not all bad. But usually it is. I don’t mind so much anymore- it used to get to me. But everyone changes. All of my tight clique of friends aren’t so tight anymore. The ones who can accept that I am changing and becoming different- whether for better or for worse- are the mates that really matter.

Mum and I went shopping yesterday- jeans shopping. It was kinda upsetting, having my own mother imply that I’m fat- well, fatter than I was. “I’m not a size 11!” I wanted to scream. But sadly… I was. Am.

Looking through Kk’s movies today we dug out “Anaconda”- that awfully frightening Jlo movie with Ice Cube and John Voit (Angelina Jolie’s dad)… It’s strange watching it now and laughing at how pathetic the acting and the storyline is, when not so long ago I was terrified of watching it.

On Saturday Harry Potter 7 comes out- I’ve been looking forward to this for two long years. It’s also when the lotto is drawn- Mum thinks she’ll win it big. Saturday, July 21 is also the 7^th anniversary of my Dad’s death. To be honest, I forgot. I really did. The calendar brought it back with a shock and I began to feel like the worst daughter in the world. But despite it all, I am happy. And he’d be happy that I’m happy.

I can’t wait to go back to school, only 1 semester to go and then I’ll officially be a Year 12.

I’m excited about Nush and my joint birthday- we are so close after all these years that I don’t think I could know more about her if we were married.

I’m confident the rest of this holidays will go smoothly if the StepDad can resist the urge to be an ass, if the brother can learn to clean up after himself and if I can deal with the large amounts of homework I’ve put off until the last minute. Later.

(BTW Kk- I found that post which upset you all those weeks ago- completely insensitive. Apologies. )

I haven’t done my homework either!!

It was bound to happen sooner or later, and in that respect I’m glad it was only mild. Of course, I made a fool of myself over a boy. Not in any major sense, but enough for me to take a step back, feel a little sorry for myself and roll about on the floor laughing. I’d just assumed he liked me and thought I’d play along- until of course, he asked me for the numbers of any, quote, “hot single friends” I may have. And that was the end of that. It’s the holidays, and so I’ve been a little lazy in terms of posting an update here and there. What news is there? Cate and I watched the Robin Hood final last night- it was simply fabulous if you disregard the uber-cliché Toyota jump at the end of it all. Consequently, I spent about 45 minutes searching for the series at the shop- they’d gone and sold out, hadn’t they? Just my luck. Shared a smile with the cutest trolley boy this afternoon at Maccas (I wasn’t eating, BTW- just walking Cate to work)- I’ve decided I’m in serious need of a holiday fling. I’ve not hooked in with anyone since the ex and that was 9 months (omfg) ago. On the subject, it’s come to my attention that none of my friends/acquaintances believe me when I say that I’m a virgin. Cate reckons it’s because I’m “hot”, but it really gets me thinking whether or not I dress, and especially act, like the kind of girl who’d do that. Sleep around, I mean. To be honest, and I’m sure I’ve said this before, I am such a prude I’ll probably die before I give a blow job. Either way. I’m totally wasting my holidays feeling left out and pissed off- the extended family have all come for a visit and they’re painful- to put it nicely. I’m so used to being the centre of attention when I come home that all these extra people- combined with getting kicked out of my bed for the second holidays in a row- have made me feel just a bit invisible. I know, it’s just another case of selfish teenager syndrome, but that diagnosis makes it not one bit easier. Speaking of reasons why I want to fall off a bridge- the weather. It’s great. It’s warm and sunny and not as hot as I’d predicted. But warm weather means shorts. And clingy singlets. And these things show off happychicks’ not-so-sexy-anymore-due-to-complete-lack-of-exercise body. I’m doing well, mind you- eating well, and I walked about 4 kilometers today- but the fact that my thighs now produce friction and my tummy hangs over my pants even when I’m standing up make me feel a bit like Darlene Cates (for those of you unaware- she plays the morbidly obese mother of Leonardo di Caprio and Johnny Depp in “What’s eating Gilbert Grape)… though perhaps not to that extent. God I hate teenage girls who worry about their weight and appearance- I really am becoming one of them, aren’t I? We’re off on a little expedition to one of Australia’s grossly overrated holiday spots tomorrow- I’ll make a concerted effort to lighten up a bit- no one likes snooty teenagers who bitch and moan all the time- who knows, if I wear shorts and a clingy singlet I may even get that holiday fling I’ve been hanging out for.