July 11, 2008


Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

Sometimes I get lonely, and a conversation with the mirror is no longer enough.

Sometimes I wonder if my friends love me purely out of convenience.

Sometimes I wonder if I am the ONLY sane person on the planet, and indeed, if thinking this only proves me insane.

Sometimes I can’t handle it.

Sometimes I look at my mother, with whom I share such an unusually close bond, and realize I don’t even know who she is.

Sometimes I go through the same emotions with the girl in the mirror.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll make it.

And sometimes, occassionally, I’ll look around, at the people I love, at the person I’ve become, and I’ll be proud.

Sometimes I’m even game enough to love myself.


July 10, 2008


Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07


Racism and the underlying pain it can cause

Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

I know I’ve mentioned this before but it’s suddenly become quite relevant. I live in a predominantly Aboriginal town, well-known for its high crime rate, alcohol and substance abuse, domestic violence and anti-social behavior, particularly amongst the Indigenous population.

Writing this, it is with all sincerity that I wish for it not to offend. In the current political situation regarding Aboriginal communities and child abuse in Australia, this is a very touchy subject, and I bring it up only because of an experience of mine this afternoon.

I have a great mate, Dave, who I’ve known for almost a year now. We worked together for a while and found common ground in our joint obsession with cricket. We talk pretty much every day, about cricket mainly, about Uni, about how annoying our parents are… Nothing too deep or serious, a joke here and a Ponting update there.

Dave messaged me this afternoon with a racial slur regarding blacks in our town. I never take these things to heart- I’m indifferent to the racial discrimination that goes on in our country, and my refusal to take sides may in some cases make me as guilty as those who discriminate based on colour. Either way, I found the comment odd because I was always under the impression that Dave himself was a “half-cast”, of sorts. That is to say, that he was part Aboriginal. Naturally, I asked him if my assumption was correct. His reply avoided the question so I asked him again.

This, folks, is where it all gets quite interesting. The reply that I got said “I never answer that question”, and I messaged back with a one-word, yet apparently powerful reply;


“You’ve seen them here, wouldn’t you be?” Now, I wasn’t sure how to answer. Part of me said yes, I would be humiliated. But deeper down, I knew I was way too proud- and not nearly that shallow- to be ashamed of any aspect of my life or my heritage. I told Dave the following;

“Their actions are not a reflection of their race, but of poor personal choice. You should be proud of your heritage- Aboriginal people have a lot to offer this world”.

“Yeah that’s true but people here judge others by race and colour and not by the person, which is why I don’t say that I am”.

He told me that his own grandmother treats him differently because his Dad was part Aboriginal- a Dad he hates because he’s an alcoholic.

Dave’s story is just one of many, most of which are far, far worse. I was devastated for him. I couldn’t comprehend disliking not only the shade of my skin, but the colour of my people. I couldn’t imagine wanting to hide such a huge part of me from the world.

Like I said, I’m indifferent- I try to be racially prejudiced as little as possible. I steer away from black jokes, and I attempt to treat all people equally. But I’m no campaigner for Aboriginal rights. I don’t condone their claims for compensation based on an event that happened decades ago. I don’t feel they deserve special treatment when white families in similar situations get very little.

Racism to future generations will be what the death penalty is to Australians today- simply incomprehensible. But for now, it’s people like Dave who pay for the generalizations of our community.

July 8, 2008

Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

I didn’t mean any of that.

I just can’t handle the thought of her not being he super-person I’d always thought she was.

Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

This afternoon a friend of mine from school messaged me and confided that she suffers from the eating disorder bulimia.

She’s been seeing a professional for years and he has recently told her he thinks it is time for her to overcome her eating problems.

She asked me to eat breakfast with her in the mornings.

I almost said no.


Is it wrong for me to be repulsed? Shocked, yes, but emotionally sickened? Is it wrong for me to lose respect for her as a person? Of course it is.

I offer no excuse. I just think it’s weak.

July 7, 2008

Waking Up To Justin Langer

Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

Every morning I wake up and think “I do NOT want to get up today.” The bed is too warm, the idea of going to a 7am ballet class unappetising and my pyjamas too comfortable.

I lay there in the dark and I say, in the loudest voice I can muster, “Justin Langer would get out of bed and enjoy very moment of the precious amount of time he has on this earth”. I plant my feet on the floor, bound across the room and rip the covers off my roommate Casey, shouting “Wake up Lobster!”.

Every morning I wake up determined to become more. To learn more, to express more, to go futher. To prove to all my sceptics- particularly myself- that I can become better. That I can improve always.

July 4, 2008

Boarder’s Socials

Filed under: My Life — happychick @ 6.38p07

I tend not to go if I can help it. Having a good time at these things depends on a significant number of factors- the music, the people you’re dancing with, the boys, the outfit, how much sleep you got the night before, how much homework you could/should be doing… And only occasionally do all of things go well enough for the night to be a success.

Our school held their annual Boarder’s Social last weekend, themed “Cops and Crims”. Because it was held by us it was compulsory for us to be there. There was nothing I could do, I had to go, and surprisingly, enough of the above factors were stacked in my favour to allow for a relatively painless evening.


The music, as expected, was awful. It was all “apple bottom jeans”, “put your hands up for Detroit”, “I got it from my Mamma”… No metal. No rock. Not even British Indie, like Arctic Monkeys/The Fratellis/ Bloc Party… The strange voodoo rumor is that metal incites violence, and all teens are underlyingly savage anyway, right? No reason to tempt us with a bit of Red Jumpsuit, or, even more shockingly, Escape the Fate. There was a large amount of ass-shaking and ass-slapping at times (my inner feminist was weeping) – it was, as HK puts it, “a vertical expression of a horizontal act”.


Casey’s my best mate and I love her to pieces- we share a room, we share classes and friends and several interests, but when it comes to socials- or socializing, for that matter, she is so damn awkward it’s uncomfortable. She hates dancing. She gets… weird, around boys. She has very little self-confidence and it shows in situations where faith in yourself is all that you have. But it was compulsory- she had to go. And it hurt me to see her in such a state of visible pain. I danced with her- she, standing, me and Boggs dancing beside her. Boggs was a lifesaver. She, too, hates anything to do with socializing (particularly with other Boarders), but she really got into it. We had fun, despite it all. We even staged it for a song or two.


Aware of how shallow this sounds, they were probably the highlight of my night. Initially I was asked by a group of boys to dance with their friend, Lee. He was cute, but in the year below us, as E so politely yelled into my ear, completely devoid of tact. That ruled out number-swapping and spit-swapping too. Further into the night I was dancing with a boy named Matt, and to my dismay Lee was getting increasingly uncomfortable with this arrangement. I hated the fact that I’d made someone envious like that.

As it was themed “Cops and Crims”, there were a lot of fake eyeliner-moustaches, as was the case when dancing with Luke, who’d come dressed as Chopper Reid, complete with the handle-bar mo. He was very polite, we danced and there was tonsil-hockey, which was all nice and well, until I got home and realised my mouth was COVERED IN BLACK EYELINER. As conspicuous and humiliating (and ultimately hilarious) as it was, no one had said ANYTHING throughout the night. The conversation back at boarding went something like;

“Casey, what the fuck is on my face?”…

“Oh yeah, I noticed that.”…

“Why, then, didn’t you say ANYTHING?!”


I was caught between Cop and Crim, ending up wearing shorts and stockings and a white striped blouse. I actually looked cute, and a few layers of foundation and a whole lot of mascara sealed the deal. My Roaccutane is working at last- give it a couple of months and I’ll be clear-skinned- something I have been longing for for 6 years.


Non-existent. The night before I’d stayed at Asha’s after Nick’s surprise birthday dinner. We watched 27 dresses (with the chick from Grey’s Anatomy), and then there was some very strange midnight movie on with Jack Black. Needless to say, the social tipped me over the edge- I’ve been over-tired for a week.


ARGH. School holidays began yesterday and finish in two weeks, within which time I have 9 assignments to complete. No exaggeration. It’s past the point of insanity and it’ll get worse before it gets better.

All in all, things went well. And they’re going well. My exam results saw me top Year 12 in both Human Bio and Maths, and I got a B in both Media and Lit. School holidays, as mentioned, are upon us, and I love love love the fact that I don’t have to do anything at all except homework and watching movies.

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