OKAYGOSHFINE

I haven't blogged in over a month.

I have tumblr.

Go there.

If you do not like tumblr, LATERS BITCHES.

insaneandluvingit.tumblr.com

Noosa, loves.

I got sunburnt and happy.

My dad works at a volunteer radio station on Mondays

They read the newspapers for vision impaired people and english language classes.

Their receptionist is blind.

They say she doesn't do much because she can't write notes or do anything but answer the phone and then forget who called them.

She's very friendly.

They can't fire her, because she's a volunteer. Even if not the most brilliantly useful receptionsist, she still helps.

I like that recepetionist.

Sometimes I feel like that receptionist.

It's official.

I am screwed for the Aus History exam.

I'm in Aus History now, not listening.

fml.

Wanna see something rather personal?

OK.

Below is the message I sent to a friend via fb message.


Hello.
First, let me clarify a few points.

1. I am socially inept and completely nerdy.
2. I get along with you reasonably well compared to other boys.
3. The aforementioned point isn't saying much as I know a total of two boys.
4. I am totally chickenshit exemplified by the medium used for this request (that being facebook).
5. (I apologise for the intense awkwardness field I'm about to create) I have a formal this year.

Given points 1 through 5 are accepted as fact, would you be ok to come to my formal with me as a [suffering] family-friend type?
If you are ok to come, that's cool, and if you aren't, that's cool too.

Yeah. I'm that lame.

I am disappoint

Whilst shopping with my beloved mother today, I offered to push the then empty trolley.
I leant on the handlebars.
I forgot Newton's Third Law.
I fell.
I bounced.
The upturned cart screeched painfully along the ground.
My knees went red.
I laughed.
My mother was unamused.

The most romantic thing you can do for someone else.

"Take her somewhere quiet. Tell her it’s a surprise and that she needn’t know where you’re going. Drive for hours. Stop only when you reach a gigantic tree that’s so gnarled and twisted it can only scarcely be called one. There’s an entrance in its roots.

Lead her through the entrance.

You’ll both have to crawl, but you’ll eventually make it to this very romantic room. Unfortunately, you probably cannot see anything because it’s pitch black - which is a good thing you brought a candle with you. Take a match from your pocket and hand it to her (be careful not to drop it in the dark). Tell her to light it. Meanwhile, run the fuck out of there. Her screams will alert you that you’ve successfully introduced her to A RABID FUCKING WEREWOLF NAMED REMUS LUPIN THAT’S ABOUT TO CONSUME HER IN ONE BITE MUHFUCKAAAAAAAAA

Oh, you meant how to woo her? My bad. Buy her flowers."

-omegleshit.tumblr.com

Aloha

Aloha means both 'hello' and 'goodbye' in Hawai'ian.

Did you know that?

I haven't written in a while, but that's because I try to write things here that actually have substance to them. I like to think that this is where I pour out the words in my head, and tumblr is where I pour out the images that accompany it.

Things that have happened in the past week:

• I have watched the entire series of Dance Academy. I sense your judgment. But it's addictive. And the boys in it are hot.


• I have decorated my converse thus:

I think it's fucking awesome.

• I have seen Toy Story 3 twice. I cried both times. It is a beautiful film.


• I saw Shrek 4. Meh. Better than the utter shit of the third, did not live up to the fantasticity of the first.


• I'm going to see the Karate Kid tomorrow, with two of my best friends. It probably won't be the deepest-slash-most soul-touching film, but meh.


• I made muffins. They are the epitome of food pornography. See? I told you so.


• I've geeked at Doctor Who. River song is the definition of bamf (apart from Neville Longbottom)


• And I took a test seeing how many of the 200 main characters in Harry Potter I could name in 18 minutes (decided by how many times their name appeared in the series). 125/200 was my score, and out of the ones I hadn't got, there were only four characters I couldn't recognise.
  

So yes.
Aloha.

SO APPARENTLY

We have a ginger-slash-female-slash-hold-the-phone-ginger Prime Minister now.

Which is all well and good, you know. So I'm for women in power. (1:0 to Julia so far)

Just, my mother would kill me if she found out I was kinda happy 'bout it. She was in the Young Liberals as a seventeen-year-old. (1:1) I come from a long line of really cool people, ya know.

BUT a girl in my year (<3) was a bit put out by this turn of events. It has been her goal for a very long time to become the first female Prime Minister. So, Ms Gillard doesn't have my support in the competition respect either. (1:2)

But she's a ginger, and not having a soul must compensate for the nasty, evil, LIberal thoughts, right? (2:2)

Yes, but that's made by internet trolls and idiots (e.g. me) alike. (2:3)

SO this argument is going nowhere. Shame. It had a really good start.

OH! and I'm submitting my fancy-pants short story Silver Afternoons to the Syndey Morning Herald Short Story Official Competition Thing.

I love subtle insults in essays

Wilberforce didn’t give up his swashbuckling social life just because he was a politician, as is still the case with most politicians today.

What's one thing you own that you should probably throw away, but never will?

My innocence.

An imprint of a departed soul.

THIS THING IS SO DAMN AWESOME

Have you ever done that thing

That thing where you're too busy worrying about the fre-e-eezing cold Mountain Dew in your hand that you get lost in the work experience building?

Guess what I just did.

I have no youtube/facebook BUT I have tumblr and blogger. My Colleagues are out for afternoon tea.

I made David Jones stock a swimsuit they weren't going to sell.
I made a spreadsheet that they're going to use to compare to competitiors' prices.
I know Winter 2011 colours and designs.
I know CONFIDENTIAL Summer 2010 Seafolly and JETS collections.

***

One thing that was really sweet was that the others keep referring to the average customer as if She was one person. e.g.:

She'd like this!
She LOVES this kind of thing, doesn't She, girls?
She's very into the ash and pale blue colours.

<3

Nostalgia and Monologue.

I get it. I haven't blogged in a while. Nothing much has happened for me to blog about, so here's some stuff to entertain you, you non-existent people you.

*****

I had a flashback today to year seven, when we were studying Shakespeare's Dream in English.
My friend Anni wrote this. We sung it to another English class.

Do you love Shakespeare?
(To the tune of "Do your ears hang low?")

Do you love Shakespeare?
Do you read him everyday?
Do you know him off by heart?
Can you act him in a play?
Something something Shakespeare
Something something something-ay
Do you love. Shake. Speare?

We love Shakespeare
We read him every day
We know him off by heart
We can act him in a play
We love Shakespeare
We think he's really hot
It's a pity. He's. Dead.

If he were alive today
We would date him for sure
We would see him all the time
We would love him even more
We're in love with Shakespeare
He's our number one man
We love. SHAKE. SPEARE!!!!!1!!11one!!

We were such kool kids.

*****

A monologue typed out by me as I procrastinated while "doing" PE homework that I didn't have to do. Enjoy. Or not as the case may be.

3. It has been suggested that learner drivers should practice while being supervised by someone with a full license but no other passengers. Discuss.

I never wanted to do PE anyway, but I will so I can procrastinate successfully. My mum is just behind me, sweeping in the little alleyway behind our house. I’m not allowed on my PC in my bedroom anymore, so I’m in the family room. I want to read Cyanide and Happiness, or watch some of their YouTube videos, and then subscribe. I’m that cool. But anyway, I’ll just sit here and type, so it looks like I’ve kind of done work, sort of. Oh well. Such is life. Learner drivers need to have no other distractions such as passengers, ipods, phones etc, as said in question one. Is this good enough? Bloody hope so. Sigh. What will become of me? I’ll probably end up putting this on my blog in the end. I can’t just leave it here to waste. So, hello, blog-reader if that is who you are. If this is not on my blog, then gtfo, hacker. You are not wanted here. Good, she’s gone now. Back to C+H. Crap, she’s there again. Sigh. Type typey type type typison. What eles to do. Sorry I haven’t written in my blog for ages. Wanna know the real reason? Nothing has happened. Really. Nothing. Work Experience this week. Fun. Not sure what I’m going to be doing at the place I’m going to. Hummmmm. She’s gone, BAM! C+H! Or not. She’s inside now. Lull her into a false sense of secu....GONE AGAIN. Aaaand she’s back. Woo. Walking in front of me...goin...going....going....gone. Good. Nope, she’s back again. In the laundry to me right. Putting stuff in the dryer. I love my mum, but my parents don’t trust me on my computer. I wonder why... But still, it’s not like I’m watching porn or anything. Hold on. Running out of light. Better. Lights on. SHE’S GONE C+H!

Would you like more evidence of how BIZARRE my school is?

Picture this: it is my all-girls' school's 125th Anniversary on Thursday. Many girls are playing instruments at the concert to celebrate. All are singing O Fortuna, a song at some ungodly pitch that will either be really, really good or absolute crap and a song written especially for our school. The music to this piece is awesome. Really, the chords and harmonies and choir bits? Although in Latin and a leetle pretentious, very nice.

But the words.

We are the quiet acheivers
We are the guiding hand
The future guadians of this wide and fragile land
With years of knowledge behind us
And light to guide our way
We have the power to change
Tomorrow today

Yeah. I know. Don't even let me begin to disect it, I'm sure you can do that by yourself.

Here is a translation of it:

We are the only people able to solve Global Warming and we're going to do it in Latin, bitch.

BUT because the darling music department who has worked wonders on this concert wants us all to sing beautifully, they have decided to not let us strain our voices for the two days leading up to the concert.

Unfortunately, the Athletics Carnival is tomorrow, two days prior to abovementioned concert.

Oh no! What are the music department to do?

I KNOW

Let's ban cheering from the Athletics Carnival Event so the precious girls won't strain their voices!

But how will we judge who wins the Spirit Cup, normally awarded to the hosue with the most enthusiasm and the best cheers?

SOLUTION!

Silent cheering.

The girls can make synchronised movements and not a word!

It's brilliant!

So quiet we might be able to hear a pin drop!

It will be smashing!

Yes. You heard correctly. Silent. Cheering.

Hooray.

Wait, no cheers. I mean *dances quietly to signal enthusiasm*.

Ahem.

Silver Afternoons

Alisha and I were looking. Again.

I didn’t know what for. Neither did she. We were just looking. Searching for something that wasn’t there.

That was the great joy of being with Alisha. She didn’t need a reason to look for something lost. She didn’t need to lose something to have to look for it. She didn’t need other people. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was announced that Alisha could survive on nothing but Pringles and Diet Coke for the rest of her life.

Alisha and I were best friends, awkward around most other people. I think that’s why we became friends in the first place - neither of us fitted in with anyone else, but we fitted perfectly with each other; her with her obscure literary references that no one understood, and me with my constant cross-examination of human behaviour. Alisha was the ideal sample test, psychologically speaking, for the simple reason that she couldn’t care less, which I always put down to the amount of caffeine being pumped through her veins. She also had a lot of personality to cross-examine, and her passionate emotions kept me entertained for years.

“I found it, Micky! Just where I put it.”

“What did you find?” I replied, crawling out from under her burgundy bed.

“I don’t know, but I feel like I’ve found it. I’m grown intellectually because of it, yet I can still enjoy the simple pleasures that bubble wrap holds. I’m healthier but lazier, smarter but more naive. I can keep my head while my thoughts spin others’. It was lost treasure and now it is mine.”

“Fantastic. Can we eat now?”

“Yes. Yes we can.”

I smiled as she pulled out a Mountain Dew from her sock drawer. I had come to the conclusion that many were hidden around her room, but I’d long since given up looking for them.

Alisha never got stressed by school work. For her, I think school work was like a break from the activity her brain usually had to cope with. Alisha wrote stories in her spare time. Less like stories, actually, more like novels. She didn’t think the pressure she put herself under for these private projects was stress, so much as spring cleaning for her head. When her brain had heaved up too much information and imagination for it to be of any more use to her, it shut down completely, leaving her curled up in a little ball of frustration for me to unravel and dust off.

We shared the Mountain Dew in comfortable silence. Alisha would hesitate occasionally and frown slightly, and then continue to consume the sugary drink.

“I wonder how much Mountain Dew someone could drink before they were so hyper they couldn’t stand up?” I pondered out loud.

Alisha leaned back against her desk leg and closed her eyes. “Micky, you don’t need Mountain Dew to fall over. You’re uncoordinated as it is.”

“Why, thank you for that unexpected show of support.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

She smiled contentedly and folded her arms. Cobra Starship was blaring in from her sister’s room next door. Her eyes flew open with delight.

“Let’s play a game.”

“Alisha, we’re sixteen.”

“I know – you came to my pathetic excuse for a party. Let’s play a game.”

I sighed. Arguing with Alisha was like wrestling with a pot plant - futile and pointless. She was the boss in any situation. Anyone who dared think otherwise would be exterminated for their own good. I liked being bossed around by Alisha. She was good at it. Alisha was the most wonderful person on Earth to me. I didn’t love her, oh God, no. If I had, she’d have beaten me up. Every boy wanted Alisha, but she was “above normal things, especially boys”. She always said that she didn’t want to be swept off her feet. She wanted to sweep someone else off their feet. I had considered pointing out that she did this by just walking down the street, but had decided against it for personal safety reasons.

“Ok, what kind of game do you want to play? Monopoly? Charades?”

“No. Those games are boring. Whoever created them was deficient in the creative-slash-vibrant department. We’re going to play an Alisha Game.”

“Explain the rules.”

“There aren’t any. We make it up as we go along.”

Days with Alisha were spent like this. They were good days. Golden Mornings. Silver Afternoons. Violet Nights. Always colourful, like her. Any day with Alisha was a fantastic day. Even if all we did was play Nintendo and laugh at stuff on TV, it would still be a really good day. Alisha made every day for herself. The sky was smothered under a thick cloak of clouds and the grass stretched itself over the garden, trying in vain to catch some sun that might accidentally wander over its territory. I would make terrible jokes and she would laugh.

In hindsight, Alisha probably did love me after all. And I probably loved her. I don’t mind that I’ll never know. I’m happy not knowing.


*******

To clarify, this is my English short story. Alisha is based on expectofuckingpatronum.tumblr.com

Real Alisha, I hope I haven’t offended you, but what I know of your personality is fantastic and makes a great story. <3

*******



awwww!
polka dots. nom nom nom.

So, what has happened of late?

Since the loss of my best friend Jazamina, who now attends an English boarding school, I have been retreating further and further into the virtual world and slowly losing contact with the real one. Jaz was the only one who was half as obsessed with Doctor Who/Alex Day/to a certain extent Harry Potter as me and now I can only discuss with Tumblings on tumblr. People at school constantly approach me and either make fun of/try to support but really make fun of my youtube videos and/or blog.

I am reading more, listening to more secluded music more often, spending more time alone and doing generally nothing. I put more thought into what I say in class. I say more productive stuff in class. I listen and learn in science. I create things in my spare time. I play the piano significantly better and the saxophone significantly worse. I sleep little and read to try to compensate. I think a lot more. I'm trying to look after my body, but it is consistently rebelling under my not-so tyranous rule. I have more friends. People think I'm less weird. No, rephrase that. Less people think I'm weird.* I'm closer to my friends but I'm further from them than I've ever been before. I talk and work but I feel like every day does not fit into a continuum of time, but rather stands on its own in a timeless entity that ends when I see the next episode of Doctor Who. This sorts out my brain and makes me reevaluate my options somewhat, before I relapse into a dreamlike state, bludging my way through mathematics homework haphazardly.

Well, you *did* ask.



*PS, yes, I know. I made a grammatical error here. It was done with poetic license in mind, silly.


PPS, someone from school wants me to mention her on my blog. Sweetheart, much as I admire your taste for the internet text world (because really, who isn't fascinated by my blog**), I won't put your name on here a) for privacy reasons b) just to annoy you.


**PPPS */sarcasm

la moustache

himynameisharrypotter.blogspot.com

I have another blog.

It's Harry's blog, really. But he needs technical help =)

It will be a project to satisfy my inner nerd. Yes, another one.

Australian History

I have an Australian History Test tomorrow.

No one in the year knows what we're learning about.

I've tried listening to Mr Colleen, believe me, I've tried.

I have learnt nothing.

It helps that his teaching methods are out of date and that the subject is so GODDAMN BORING.

A HISTORY OF AUSTRALIA
1. Aborigines lived here for many years and had a generally peaceful time of it.
2. Europeans arrive and f#ck everything up.
3. Europeans f#ck up some more stuff.
4. Australians go and f#ck up other countries in various wars.
5. Prime Minister apologises to Aborgines on behalf of European Australia for being so f#cking narrow-minded.

THE END.

It shouldn't count as a subject! "Proper history and stuff" people have only been here for 200 years, and that's not enough time to come up with an Australian History course! Our history isn't history - it happened yesterday!

So, if you don't mind, I'm going to go and learn the entire year's Aus Hist course in a night and try to expand my knowledge of Australians f#cking up.