What does it mean to sport a pair of Louis Vuitton stilettos fresh from their latest summer line, in comparison to that of last season Nike sneakers purchased at 30% off? To me: absolutely nothing.
Shoes DO NOT determine the person; nor do clothes, perfume, location or jewellery – pretty much everything visible to the human eye.
A 36 karat gold necklace does not compensate for a cold hearted soul. An Oroton wallet does not compensate for a selfish obsession with brand names. Not everyone is as free-flowing as the Lisa Ho dress featured in Madison magazine.
If only we were as natural as Mount Franklin spring water. If only.
Drinking Coca Cola will, before finishing the entire contents of the can, turn you into the goddess of confidence who spends most of her time flirting with boys on the beach. Wearing a Mossimo outfit makes standing in a filth-ridden alley way, massed with graffiti and broken down buildings look good. Who are we trying to kid?
When was the last time you saved up for an item of your dreams and not feel as satisfied as you originally anticipated? Bet they didn't advertise the part about satisfaction NOT guaranteed. Marketing people aren't stupid, they didn't promise it because after all, it was JUST a bracelet, JUST a packet of frozen chips, JUST a handbag and NOT instant euphoria.
Where are the advertisements that endorse a good personality, health and well being? The ones that do exist, though, are lost in between pages promoting the newest mobile technology to change your life, and your how-to step by step guide on the new diet craze to sweep Hollywood of its feet.
Social status only gets you so far. Ultimately, we are all victims of the same time frame, blessed with 24 hours in our day – whether you make them count or not is a different story. We all breathe the same air – spoiled by the same case of global warming. We all have the same fate – death.
These points should be enough to make any sane person open their eyes and see the human race as equal. But it's not. Why? Is it because we're all at least a little bit insane?
Insecure? Indecisive. Insensitive? Indeed.
We're losers to our own game. Upon finally owning the new house, the new car, the new job – we're anything BUT satisfied. We want more. We want the new house with servants and a tennis court – event hough you HATE tennis. We want the new car with rims and the finest quality sound system, fit for 50 cent, dawg. We want to be our own boss to a million dollar empire.
Beauty is a curse on the world that stops us from scratching the surface. All we see is dirt and rubble, not the fortune of gold that lies beneath.
We've built up an appetite for material things, accepting them as substitutes for areas of emptiness in our life. Nothing beats the feeling of helping a stranger. Nothing passes the time better than spending it with people who accept you just as you are, and wouldn't change a thing. Nothing makes you rest easier than going to sleep at night knowing you made a difference in someone else's life.
As my favourite author, Mitch Albom once said: "Devote yourself to something that gives you purpose and meaning". Devote yourself to one or many things, temporarily or permanently.
I devote myself to being positive so that those around me don't have to put up with someone who seems to wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday. I devote myself to doing fairly well in my studies so that my mother, who raises three children on her own, doesn't feel that her hard earned money to support our education is going to waste. I devote to being a good sister so that my brothers have something worth looking up to. I devote myself to submitting hopefully meaningful critiques so that while I'm exercising my joys for writing, others benefit also. I devote myself to serving God because what you give, you get back tenfold; it's a win win situation.
Know that there's more to life than being the number one fashion brand name victim. It's not what you wear, and it's not how you wear it either – it's what you do while wearing those clothes that makes a REAL difference.
Wake up and smell the roses, then kick off the shoes and feel the sand between your toes!
Saturday 31 December 2005
Tuesday 27 December 2005
My Philosophy
Live to no one elses standards but that of your own.
Compare yourself to no one but who YOU were in the past. Don't strive to be anyone but a first rate version of YOURSELF.
S m i l e m o r e. Smile Frown less. Sad
Surround yourself with good people.
Be good to others as if it were the final step towards world peace.
Forget sex, a simple kiss will do. Forget a fancy bouquet, a single flower says it all. Forget extravagant dates, designer clothes and expensive jewellery to make us smile - your presence should do the job. When you wrap your arms around us. When you hold our hand. When you look us in the eye. Sometimes that's all we want, nothing more. Sometimes, it doesn't get better than just that.
Remember that it's the imperfections that make someone truly beautiful; perfectionism is just a figment of our imagination.
Without flaws there would be no compromise.
Know that nothing lasts forever but enjoy it while it's there.
Don't indulge in materialistic things - even that diamond ring is too heavy to take up to heaven with you. Rather, fulfill your life through sentimental means: How many people you made smile, how many people you made laugh, how many times you gave without the expectation of receiving and how many times you put others before yourself.
There are no such thing as strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. Enemies are the result of ignorance and lack of capacity to understand.
The grass is no more greener on the other side so appreciate where you are
RIGHT NOW.
In the situation where a problem arises don't point fingers on who did it or why it happened; only focusing on a resolution will make the problem go away.
Accusations only create more.
If you didn't land your dream job, win the lotto, or if your last relationship didn't work out, sorry honey but:
GET OVER IT!
It wasn't meant to be. The world keeps spinning, the river keeps running and time keeps ticking. It doesn't stop for one second to feel sorry for you.
It moves on, and so should you.
It happened and it was good, but it's God's way of telling you there's more, perhaps better things out there.
Don't linger in what used to be or could have been - like a broken record. Broken records are annoying. And there's a point where even your best friends tire of your miserable proclamations.
Instead, fix yourself up and press play. Make your presence the music to someones ears. Finally, realise that it wasn't you after all - it was the record player that stuffed you up. So yes, shop around and find someone who WORKS for you. It's called compatibility.
Love your family. Like the trackside team to an eager F1 driver at the starting line of a race, it's the family who equipped you for life the best they could.
It's the friends you meet along the way. They may not be riding alongside you forever - but they DID get you further than you would have by yourself.
Every now and then, do something you enjoy - paint, read, go for a walk. Keep yourself occupied and you won't have time to dig yourself into a hole of negativity.
If you don't know something... ASK! He who asks questions is a fool only for a moment. He who doesn't ask questions is a fool forever.
When you say I love you - mean it. When you mean it - show it. When you show it they'll be so convinced you're worth loving back. When this happens, the hard part is to continue showing it. Keep going, ensure that it wasn't an act and that they made the right choice in giving you their heart. As long as you're true to your word you can never tell someone too much that you love them. Don't die with the regret that you didn't say it enough.
If you've been stopped in your tracks on a bad hair day or wearing the daggiest outfit on the face of the earth - look the person in the eye and they won't notice a thing.
Sure, $50 might buy you a night out clubbing with your friends, but
the best things in life are free.
Quite a bargain price if you ask me.
All things happen for a reason. It's only when you stop complaining that you allow yourself to see the reason why.
Don't criticise. It's you mind's subtle way of telling you that you've got personal issues with yourself that need sorting out. It's through criticising people that you make yourself feel better... temporarily. So don't involve other people in your misery.
Dying is easy, it's the living that's hard. So congratulations to anyone reading this, because obviously you're alive. Stay in there!
Last of all, don't mistake happiness for perfection. The Macquarie Dictionary defines happiness as contentment, fortunate or lucky.
Be content without the big house and the big income because you're fortunate to be blessed with good health and a roof over your head. Be happy that you're lucky to be alive.
Compare yourself to no one but who YOU were in the past. Don't strive to be anyone but a first rate version of YOURSELF.
S m i l e m o r e. Smile Frown less. Sad
Surround yourself with good people.
Be good to others as if it were the final step towards world peace.
Forget sex, a simple kiss will do. Forget a fancy bouquet, a single flower says it all. Forget extravagant dates, designer clothes and expensive jewellery to make us smile - your presence should do the job. When you wrap your arms around us. When you hold our hand. When you look us in the eye. Sometimes that's all we want, nothing more. Sometimes, it doesn't get better than just that.
Remember that it's the imperfections that make someone truly beautiful; perfectionism is just a figment of our imagination.
Without flaws there would be no compromise.
Know that nothing lasts forever but enjoy it while it's there.
Don't indulge in materialistic things - even that diamond ring is too heavy to take up to heaven with you. Rather, fulfill your life through sentimental means: How many people you made smile, how many people you made laugh, how many times you gave without the expectation of receiving and how many times you put others before yourself.
There are no such thing as strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. Enemies are the result of ignorance and lack of capacity to understand.
The grass is no more greener on the other side so appreciate where you are
RIGHT NOW.
In the situation where a problem arises don't point fingers on who did it or why it happened; only focusing on a resolution will make the problem go away.
Accusations only create more.
If you didn't land your dream job, win the lotto, or if your last relationship didn't work out, sorry honey but:
GET OVER IT!
It wasn't meant to be. The world keeps spinning, the river keeps running and time keeps ticking. It doesn't stop for one second to feel sorry for you.
It moves on, and so should you.
It happened and it was good, but it's God's way of telling you there's more, perhaps better things out there.
Don't linger in what used to be or could have been - like a broken record. Broken records are annoying. And there's a point where even your best friends tire of your miserable proclamations.
Instead, fix yourself up and press play. Make your presence the music to someones ears. Finally, realise that it wasn't you after all - it was the record player that stuffed you up. So yes, shop around and find someone who WORKS for you. It's called compatibility.
Love your family. Like the trackside team to an eager F1 driver at the starting line of a race, it's the family who equipped you for life the best they could.
It's the friends you meet along the way. They may not be riding alongside you forever - but they DID get you further than you would have by yourself.
Every now and then, do something you enjoy - paint, read, go for a walk. Keep yourself occupied and you won't have time to dig yourself into a hole of negativity.
If you don't know something... ASK! He who asks questions is a fool only for a moment. He who doesn't ask questions is a fool forever.
When you say I love you - mean it. When you mean it - show it. When you show it they'll be so convinced you're worth loving back. When this happens, the hard part is to continue showing it. Keep going, ensure that it wasn't an act and that they made the right choice in giving you their heart. As long as you're true to your word you can never tell someone too much that you love them. Don't die with the regret that you didn't say it enough.
If you've been stopped in your tracks on a bad hair day or wearing the daggiest outfit on the face of the earth - look the person in the eye and they won't notice a thing.
Sure, $50 might buy you a night out clubbing with your friends, but
the best things in life are free.
Quite a bargain price if you ask me.
All things happen for a reason. It's only when you stop complaining that you allow yourself to see the reason why.
Don't criticise. It's you mind's subtle way of telling you that you've got personal issues with yourself that need sorting out. It's through criticising people that you make yourself feel better... temporarily. So don't involve other people in your misery.
Dying is easy, it's the living that's hard. So congratulations to anyone reading this, because obviously you're alive. Stay in there!
Last of all, don't mistake happiness for perfection. The Macquarie Dictionary defines happiness as contentment, fortunate or lucky.
Be content without the big house and the big income because you're fortunate to be blessed with good health and a roof over your head. Be happy that you're lucky to be alive.
Friday 16 December 2005
Super-update Me
Expect this blog entry to be like that of Streets Rainbow Paddle Pop ice cream - a bit of this, a bit of that, and not exactly the BEST tasting (to me, anyway). My holidays could be described much the same, like ice cream that has been consumed so quickly, that it seems unfair we couldn't savour the taste for just a second longer.
Have you ever looked at the clouds? I mean, REALLY, TRULY, ACTUALLY looked at them? I hadn't, until last week. Remember those holographic Pokemon cards, or holographic Goosebumps bookcovers. Yeaaaah, admit it, they were the bomb first time you laid eyes on such an optical illusion. Well, on that particular day, the clouds resembled something like that. While at the sametime, reminding me of puffs of white fairy floss hovering just a few metres over the errr...biosphere. The night had a beauty all of its own. Driving home, the trees looked like silhouettes against a sheet of deep purple.
They might say that small things amuse small minds, but I'm just observant - maybe OVERLY observant. Better still, I'd rather be on some level of observant than not see the things I'm looking at. Confused? It's like watching a movie but not giving your full attention. Sure, you saw the movie, but you didn't exactly watch it.
During the week the familia and I went to Centrepoint Tower for lunch. One word: Scrumdidlyumptious! Tongue I advise everyone to go there at least once in their life. The views are a tad bit high for my liking, but nothing short of specacular. My cousins (Geri, Jon & Raynald) took a freak load of luvo photos (they should really consider making luvo-ness an Olympic event) and had our full of oysters - taking advantage of the whole all-you-can-eat thing. Jon and I developed a fetish for taking photos of neatly presented desserts. I dunno, maybe it runs in the blood.
Yesterday was Benjo's No Reason Pool Party. Sunny skies. Fried Chicken. Sunscreen flavoured lollies. Coke & Sunkist. A whole lot of H2O...FUN! So much for that 'NO PUSHING' rule they taught us in primary school. We were a bunch of teenagers acting like little kids. It just goes to show that you're never too old to be young. I had to leave early for work. Elle came with me. Another luvo session, this time on the bus.
Today Chester came over. A day well spent considering I thought it would be Revenge of the Boring. Bumped into, almost everyone at Liverpool Westfields.
Other than making you Smile happy Smile , boyfriends are also good for holding any loose papers, your hand bag (until my mum told me to stop being slack), and anything heavy. Of course, my mum would know. Chester ended up carrying two shopping bags of...let's just say fragile heavy stuff. So yes, mothers benefit too.
Chester and I played the good old game of tic-tac-toe. He won twice, the rest were all ties. It was an outrage, for me. Angry
Quote of the day:
Chester: Let's play S.O.S.
Noeline: How do you spell that?
Chester: gasps for air to support his laughing fit
Noeline: I mean, how do you play that?
In case you were wondering, he won another (box) game too. DAMMIT!
Apologies (not really) for all those times I hit you (hard, apparently). Yes, I'm one of those 'abusive' girlfriends. Like Jay and Kyle said, before you know it you'll be on those ads featuring the slogan: Abusive Girlfriends - Australia says NO!
Yeah, and for the record he got his hair streaked a blondey-orangey-light brownish colour. Looks KOOLIES, I rekon.
♫ It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas ♫
I think that most parents are proud victims of festive season syndrome. Mum thought it was time we bought a new Christmas tree with built in lights and stuck on decorations. Its the summer Christmas holidays. Which means a whole lot of getting red/black (depending on how your skin reacts to sunburn) and getting fat, due to all that food and lazing about. Oh well, come school and we'll stress it all out.
I turned 16 three months ago, and unlike other sweet-sixteeners out there, I'm yet to get my L's. There's little hope when I don't know the first thing about driving cars.
More reflective, hopefully inspiring and insightful blogs to come, like the ones you were used to reading before. Lately they've just been about the everyday yarda.
Till then, here's some food for thought I might write about later on, quotes and random stuff I found interesing.
"We all love the idea of being in love. Just the reality of it sounds kind of interesting" Orlando Bloom
Personality - the BEST accessory.
It's called a B R E A K up because it's B R O K E N.
"Baby they build you up only to tear you down" Nelly Furtado
"Too much of a good thing can be bad... less is more" Joss Stone
Have you ever looked at the clouds? I mean, REALLY, TRULY, ACTUALLY looked at them? I hadn't, until last week. Remember those holographic Pokemon cards, or holographic Goosebumps bookcovers. Yeaaaah, admit it, they were the bomb first time you laid eyes on such an optical illusion. Well, on that particular day, the clouds resembled something like that. While at the sametime, reminding me of puffs of white fairy floss hovering just a few metres over the errr...biosphere. The night had a beauty all of its own. Driving home, the trees looked like silhouettes against a sheet of deep purple.
They might say that small things amuse small minds, but I'm just observant - maybe OVERLY observant. Better still, I'd rather be on some level of observant than not see the things I'm looking at. Confused? It's like watching a movie but not giving your full attention. Sure, you saw the movie, but you didn't exactly watch it.
During the week the familia and I went to Centrepoint Tower for lunch. One word: Scrumdidlyumptious! Tongue I advise everyone to go there at least once in their life. The views are a tad bit high for my liking, but nothing short of specacular. My cousins (Geri, Jon & Raynald) took a freak load of luvo photos (they should really consider making luvo-ness an Olympic event) and had our full of oysters - taking advantage of the whole all-you-can-eat thing. Jon and I developed a fetish for taking photos of neatly presented desserts. I dunno, maybe it runs in the blood.
Yesterday was Benjo's No Reason Pool Party. Sunny skies. Fried Chicken. Sunscreen flavoured lollies. Coke & Sunkist. A whole lot of H2O...FUN! So much for that 'NO PUSHING' rule they taught us in primary school. We were a bunch of teenagers acting like little kids. It just goes to show that you're never too old to be young. I had to leave early for work. Elle came with me. Another luvo session, this time on the bus.
Today Chester came over. A day well spent considering I thought it would be Revenge of the Boring. Bumped into, almost everyone at Liverpool Westfields.
Other than making you Smile happy Smile , boyfriends are also good for holding any loose papers, your hand bag (until my mum told me to stop being slack), and anything heavy. Of course, my mum would know. Chester ended up carrying two shopping bags of...let's just say fragile heavy stuff. So yes, mothers benefit too.
Chester and I played the good old game of tic-tac-toe. He won twice, the rest were all ties. It was an outrage, for me. Angry
Quote of the day:
Chester: Let's play S.O.S.
Noeline: How do you spell that?
Chester: gasps for air to support his laughing fit
Noeline: I mean, how do you play that?
In case you were wondering, he won another (box) game too. DAMMIT!
Apologies (not really) for all those times I hit you (hard, apparently). Yes, I'm one of those 'abusive' girlfriends. Like Jay and Kyle said, before you know it you'll be on those ads featuring the slogan: Abusive Girlfriends - Australia says NO!
Yeah, and for the record he got his hair streaked a blondey-orangey-light brownish colour. Looks KOOLIES, I rekon.
♫ It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas ♫
I think that most parents are proud victims of festive season syndrome. Mum thought it was time we bought a new Christmas tree with built in lights and stuck on decorations. Its the summer Christmas holidays. Which means a whole lot of getting red/black (depending on how your skin reacts to sunburn) and getting fat, due to all that food and lazing about. Oh well, come school and we'll stress it all out.
I turned 16 three months ago, and unlike other sweet-sixteeners out there, I'm yet to get my L's. There's little hope when I don't know the first thing about driving cars.
More reflective, hopefully inspiring and insightful blogs to come, like the ones you were used to reading before. Lately they've just been about the everyday yarda.
Till then, here's some food for thought I might write about later on, quotes and random stuff I found interesing.
"We all love the idea of being in love. Just the reality of it sounds kind of interesting" Orlando Bloom
Personality - the BEST accessory.
It's called a B R E A K up because it's B R O K E N.
"Baby they build you up only to tear you down" Nelly Furtado
"Too much of a good thing can be bad... less is more" Joss Stone
Wednesday 7 December 2005
Don't blame it on the sunshine
My life recently..
My much loved Auntie Gloria and Uncle Jeff touched Australian ground for their month long holiday from the United States. Auntie Gloria is the coolest auntie of the bunch, boasting her iPod – comprising of tunes from the soulful Joss Stone and the super kawaii Gwen Stefani. Uncle Jeff has the warmest eyes I've ever seen; like gazing into an unopened book of wisdom.
Their arrival gives the relatives an excuse to do a little sight seeing them selves. I was fortunate to tag along on one of their sight seeing days.
It was then that I discovered there was more to Bondi Beach than the surf and sand. If you took the time to notice there were footpaths that traced along the coast, and on foot you would find spectacular views that are more than capable of taking your breath away.
I wondered to myself what it was that people thought about as they gazed out into the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. Were they gambling against odds their chances of developing skin cancer as they laid about sun tanning? Most probably not. Were they missing a loved one? Were they pondering the meaning of life? Were they retreating to a place of solace hoping the sea would wash away their troubles?
I know this may sound nerdy but there were little caves formed in the rocks, so far below the surface it went against your imagination to believe the water level was that high, millions of years ago.
We had Hungry Jack's for lunch. Even though I didn't pay for it, I couldn't help feeling odd to think I used to get bags of it for free. After that we had some lip smacking ice cream. Words just can't explain, but it was good!
As if catering to my wishes, we headed off to the art display of UNSW. I love art to bits, but if there's one thing I hate about being in an art gallery: it's that you can't stay in there forever. It's amazing the things a paintbrush and a little imagination can concoct.
Formal was five days ago, memories still as vivid as ever. Everyone looked fabulous. With little expectations, I made plenty of room for surprise. It wasn't great, but it was, nonetheless better than I expected – and that I'm thankful for.
YES, the food was crap and the music was craptacular, but it's the friends that can turn any situation around. It was a night of Kodak moments and lots of dancing.
♫ Don't blame it on the sunshine
Don't blame it on the moonlight
Don't blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie! ♫
Yesterday was quite eventful. Kristine, Kathreen, Frances, Carmela and I were so close to purchasing concert tickets to The Backstreet Boys, had it not been for the broken ticket printing machine. It didn't help that all the remaining seats were situated at the back, and our height wouldn't have balanced that set-back.
So instead we headed off for a day of shopping.
A pat on the back to Frances who gave into my friendly peer pressure which caused her to blow her well earned dosh. Thanks to me that convenient yet flashy handbag, black jeans, shorts and bikini are now hers, and not admired from a distant memory like they would be, had it not been for me.
I bought myself black three quarter jeans, a trinket badge and vest.
Here's a little segment of our day...
Two pigeons lay about on the grass of Macquarie Street Mall in a public display of affection.
Everyone: Ewwwwwwwww! Look at the pigeons.
AJ: Leave them alone. They're just making eggs.
Noeline: What?! Do birds lay eggs?
Carmela: OH MY GOSH! You did not just say that.
Everyone (except Noeline): laughs
Kristine: Noeline, what do you think nests are for?
Noeline: Ohhh yeah! Comes to a ground breaking realisation.
After a satisfying session of retail therapy, the remainder of the day was spent at Awards Night. Congratulations to everyone who received an award. I myself received the Academic Achievement Award for Visual Art, Outstanding Contribution to the College Chior and funnily enough - Outstanding Class Contribution in PDHPE. How I managed to get that when I'm absent most sport lessons and suck when I'm there remains a mystery to me. Oh well, a smile and a half from me.
I've ascertained one of life's hidden little pleasures. Put a twist to those milk and cookies and try cholate milk with Hershey's caramel chocolate. It's to die for.
I was watching Oprah today. They were promoting awareness of child sex slavery. If you think it's ludicrous that twelve year old girls are being sold off as sex slaves by their family, try grasping the concept of seven. These girls hadn't even hit puberty yet.
Concentrated in south Asian countries, it is communal belief that having sex with a young girl will bless the male with strength and well being.
Virgins are of high demand. The younger the girl the higher the price. But is ten dollars for oral sex worth defaming the respect, spirit and self worth of a young girl? I most certainly think not.
But get this: European tourists are the top customers of such a service. There is little hope when police and judges are easily blackmailed in releasing those undoubtedly guilty of inhumane offence.
Where's the justice when fifty dollars can buy a man out of years, possibly a lifetime in prison. Where's the justice when fifty dollars can grant these men a lifetime to recommit crimes of child sex slavery.
It made my realise a little bit more how lucky I was. Hopefully you do too.
Shout outs to my G.F.A. (pronounced geh-fa meaning Ghetto Farm Animals) girls! Featuring Frances the pig, Danica the horse, Carmela the dog and Noeline the slut. You've all been so good to me.
A happy birthday to my Westie gangster Kathreen who turns sweet 16 today.
A heartfelt lojevano hug to Vii who is holidaying in the Philippines, I miss you!
Toys: you're a barrel of laughs! Thankyou for every single smile and laugh you've given me over the past two months. It's just too bad that I'm so much more mature and intellectually advanced than you. The scoreboard says it all. 16-30. And that's the way I like it!
♫ We've had such a great time in these past two months
I've never laughed so much in my life
It's been all about us...♫
I've decided upon my New Years resolutions for 2006. They are to get fit and take risks. I might look alright on the outside but I'm rotting on the inside. I'd hate to see the state my muscles and bones are in. You know that saying think outside the square you live in? Well I stand firmly grounded right in the middle of that square, just where the two diagonals intersect. Boring much.
Wish me luck, I'll need it.
My much loved Auntie Gloria and Uncle Jeff touched Australian ground for their month long holiday from the United States. Auntie Gloria is the coolest auntie of the bunch, boasting her iPod – comprising of tunes from the soulful Joss Stone and the super kawaii Gwen Stefani. Uncle Jeff has the warmest eyes I've ever seen; like gazing into an unopened book of wisdom.
Their arrival gives the relatives an excuse to do a little sight seeing them selves. I was fortunate to tag along on one of their sight seeing days.
It was then that I discovered there was more to Bondi Beach than the surf and sand. If you took the time to notice there were footpaths that traced along the coast, and on foot you would find spectacular views that are more than capable of taking your breath away.
I wondered to myself what it was that people thought about as they gazed out into the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. Were they gambling against odds their chances of developing skin cancer as they laid about sun tanning? Most probably not. Were they missing a loved one? Were they pondering the meaning of life? Were they retreating to a place of solace hoping the sea would wash away their troubles?
I know this may sound nerdy but there were little caves formed in the rocks, so far below the surface it went against your imagination to believe the water level was that high, millions of years ago.
We had Hungry Jack's for lunch. Even though I didn't pay for it, I couldn't help feeling odd to think I used to get bags of it for free. After that we had some lip smacking ice cream. Words just can't explain, but it was good!
As if catering to my wishes, we headed off to the art display of UNSW. I love art to bits, but if there's one thing I hate about being in an art gallery: it's that you can't stay in there forever. It's amazing the things a paintbrush and a little imagination can concoct.
Formal was five days ago, memories still as vivid as ever. Everyone looked fabulous. With little expectations, I made plenty of room for surprise. It wasn't great, but it was, nonetheless better than I expected – and that I'm thankful for.
YES, the food was crap and the music was craptacular, but it's the friends that can turn any situation around. It was a night of Kodak moments and lots of dancing.
♫ Don't blame it on the sunshine
Don't blame it on the moonlight
Don't blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie! ♫
Yesterday was quite eventful. Kristine, Kathreen, Frances, Carmela and I were so close to purchasing concert tickets to The Backstreet Boys, had it not been for the broken ticket printing machine. It didn't help that all the remaining seats were situated at the back, and our height wouldn't have balanced that set-back.
So instead we headed off for a day of shopping.
A pat on the back to Frances who gave into my friendly peer pressure which caused her to blow her well earned dosh. Thanks to me that convenient yet flashy handbag, black jeans, shorts and bikini are now hers, and not admired from a distant memory like they would be, had it not been for me.
I bought myself black three quarter jeans, a trinket badge and vest.
Here's a little segment of our day...
Two pigeons lay about on the grass of Macquarie Street Mall in a public display of affection.
Everyone: Ewwwwwwwww! Look at the pigeons.
AJ: Leave them alone. They're just making eggs.
Noeline: What?! Do birds lay eggs?
Carmela: OH MY GOSH! You did not just say that.
Everyone (except Noeline): laughs
Kristine: Noeline, what do you think nests are for?
Noeline: Ohhh yeah! Comes to a ground breaking realisation.
After a satisfying session of retail therapy, the remainder of the day was spent at Awards Night. Congratulations to everyone who received an award. I myself received the Academic Achievement Award for Visual Art, Outstanding Contribution to the College Chior and funnily enough - Outstanding Class Contribution in PDHPE. How I managed to get that when I'm absent most sport lessons and suck when I'm there remains a mystery to me. Oh well, a smile and a half from me.
I've ascertained one of life's hidden little pleasures. Put a twist to those milk and cookies and try cholate milk with Hershey's caramel chocolate. It's to die for.
I was watching Oprah today. They were promoting awareness of child sex slavery. If you think it's ludicrous that twelve year old girls are being sold off as sex slaves by their family, try grasping the concept of seven. These girls hadn't even hit puberty yet.
Concentrated in south Asian countries, it is communal belief that having sex with a young girl will bless the male with strength and well being.
Virgins are of high demand. The younger the girl the higher the price. But is ten dollars for oral sex worth defaming the respect, spirit and self worth of a young girl? I most certainly think not.
But get this: European tourists are the top customers of such a service. There is little hope when police and judges are easily blackmailed in releasing those undoubtedly guilty of inhumane offence.
Where's the justice when fifty dollars can buy a man out of years, possibly a lifetime in prison. Where's the justice when fifty dollars can grant these men a lifetime to recommit crimes of child sex slavery.
It made my realise a little bit more how lucky I was. Hopefully you do too.
Shout outs to my G.F.A. (pronounced geh-fa meaning Ghetto Farm Animals) girls! Featuring Frances the pig, Danica the horse, Carmela the dog and Noeline the slut. You've all been so good to me.
A happy birthday to my Westie gangster Kathreen who turns sweet 16 today.
A heartfelt lojevano hug to Vii who is holidaying in the Philippines, I miss you!
Toys: you're a barrel of laughs! Thankyou for every single smile and laugh you've given me over the past two months. It's just too bad that I'm so much more mature and intellectually advanced than you. The scoreboard says it all. 16-30. And that's the way I like it!
♫ We've had such a great time in these past two months
I've never laughed so much in my life
It's been all about us...♫
I've decided upon my New Years resolutions for 2006. They are to get fit and take risks. I might look alright on the outside but I'm rotting on the inside. I'd hate to see the state my muscles and bones are in. You know that saying think outside the square you live in? Well I stand firmly grounded right in the middle of that square, just where the two diagonals intersect. Boring much.
Wish me luck, I'll need it.
Monday 28 November 2005
Going to miss...
School has kissed goodbye the asses of 2005's year 10 group. We've graduated.
Four years of memories: it saw the tragic end of primary school friendships we thought would last forever, the nervous beginnings of new relationships, compulsory use of school bags that were larger than life itself, dumped with what seemed a plethoral workload, and as we scanned through old camp photos - came to a frightening realisation that we were an oddly clad bunch back then (although at the time we thought we were THE SHIT). Who remembers the year 8 camp where I wore some number tee partnered with a red bandana? (GAG!) Like wat the hell, seriously, who in their right mind would wear something like that?
It's the unforgetably unrelivable moments that I will miss dearly. The detentions we may still think we didn't deserve. The times we'd go into a tying-up-our-hair-frenzy because a teacher was coming. The retarted circles that formed our seating positions every recess and lunch. The canteen food. That melodious bell. Going to sick bay so you could get out of a pointless reading lesson, a cranky teacher, a test u didn't study for or delivering a speech you didn't practice.
To the friends who've been and gone, thankyou for being in my life at that particular period of time. Although not all friendships last forever, perhaps there's a reason why God put us together. To share that one laugh, that one weekend, that one conversation, that one realisation, that one lesson. Maybe it was a little more than just once, and just under a thousand times; our late night rants on the phone may have been reduced to a casual hi and bye - but you're all the product of who I am today.
From arriving at school at the same time, meeting at the same place, and greeting the same familiar faces - we're bidding a sad goodbye to a few, and see you later to others.
Maybe we'll return next year changed. Will we keep the same friends? I wonder. For now, let us enjoy the holidays. Sleep in. Go out. Spoil yourself. This may be the last time we can go about our days without worrying about any assignments or exams. After that it's meeting the due dates of senior school, followed by those of you're university/college lecturer, and finally the annoying demands of your egotistical boss.
Happy holidays everyone!
Four years of memories: it saw the tragic end of primary school friendships we thought would last forever, the nervous beginnings of new relationships, compulsory use of school bags that were larger than life itself, dumped with what seemed a plethoral workload, and as we scanned through old camp photos - came to a frightening realisation that we were an oddly clad bunch back then (although at the time we thought we were THE SHIT). Who remembers the year 8 camp where I wore some number tee partnered with a red bandana? (GAG!) Like wat the hell, seriously, who in their right mind would wear something like that?
It's the unforgetably unrelivable moments that I will miss dearly. The detentions we may still think we didn't deserve. The times we'd go into a tying-up-our-hair-frenzy because a teacher was coming. The retarted circles that formed our seating positions every recess and lunch. The canteen food. That melodious bell. Going to sick bay so you could get out of a pointless reading lesson, a cranky teacher, a test u didn't study for or delivering a speech you didn't practice.
To the friends who've been and gone, thankyou for being in my life at that particular period of time. Although not all friendships last forever, perhaps there's a reason why God put us together. To share that one laugh, that one weekend, that one conversation, that one realisation, that one lesson. Maybe it was a little more than just once, and just under a thousand times; our late night rants on the phone may have been reduced to a casual hi and bye - but you're all the product of who I am today.
From arriving at school at the same time, meeting at the same place, and greeting the same familiar faces - we're bidding a sad goodbye to a few, and see you later to others.
Maybe we'll return next year changed. Will we keep the same friends? I wonder. For now, let us enjoy the holidays. Sleep in. Go out. Spoil yourself. This may be the last time we can go about our days without worrying about any assignments or exams. After that it's meeting the due dates of senior school, followed by those of you're university/college lecturer, and finally the annoying demands of your egotistical boss.
Happy holidays everyone!
Monday 21 November 2005
Dear Mum
Dear Mum,
You'll never guess where I'm writing from.
I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I admit I was wrong, I just wish you were here to hear me say it.
It was an accident, something I truly regret. Do you forgive me? I know I should have let you know before it happened, but I do love you. Do you still love me?
Do you remember when I was six years old? It was scorching hot outside and you were gardening. You enjoyed gardening. You said you loved watching the Purple Dendrobium Orchid Flowers grow; they were your second favourite. But most of all you said that you loved watching me grow; and that one day I too would grow to be tall and beautiful.
I was playing with my water gun. You were sweating from the heat and looked tired. I thought it would be funny if I sprayed a bit of water on you as a practical joke. With little thought my little fingers pulled against the plastic trigger.
I still remember the look on your face. Your icy blue green eyes were suddenly filled with a rage I had never seen before. I was frozen with terror. My heart skipped a beat, butterflies flooded my stomach, and as my mouth fell open I let out a gasp.
Back then my world was tiny. Having to go to 'the corner' was one of the harshest punishments imaginable. There I would think about what I did wrong, but here in this cold and clammy room it aches to think. At least there I was safe, safe from the rest of world. This Earth really is a scary place.
I wish I could go back, and remain six years old forever.
I turned to run inside, fearful of hearing you shout at me; possibly even smack me. They used to hurt, but not as much as the pain I experience writing this letter to you.
I was hit with a tidal wave of puzzlement when a surge of water splattered across the back of my dress. 'Had I run into a puddle?' I thought.
You wet me with the hose as an act of revenge and was laughing hysterically. I had never seen you so overjoyed. I still remember that water fight as if it was only yesterday.
Now at twenty years of age, I wish I had stuck to just water guns. The assembly of fluorescent coloured fragments brimful with water are harmless, they don't cost lives. Metal tubing and bullets are deadly, of course, I would know.
I wasn't the greatest daughter in the world. Now I realise I didn't deserve a mother like you. I rebelled against you, I'm sorry. I was profoundly selfish. Why it takes something like this for me to change I don't know.
I guess after dad had gone, I turned to the wrong friends for comfort. The sort of 'friends' who convinced me into believing partying, crime, getting high and smoking would help keep my mind away from my problems - instead they only created more.
Of course, I wasn't always like that. You and I used to be close; we would talk about everything till the cows came home. I miss those moments. I would bring home good grades; I wanted to be a doctor, and you believed in me.
A few weeks ago we were arguing. I arrived home at six in the morning with a massive hangover. I stumbled through the door - hair messed, eyes red and on the brink of conciousness; you were sitting down in the living room reading a magazine with the phone close at hand. Before I had time to lie and blurt out a new lame explanation to excuse me for coming home so late, you slammed the magazine down, and I could see tears forming in your eyes.
You started yelling at me. You said that you didn't know the person who I had become; come to think of it, till now, neither do I. You told me I was throwing my life away, that I was better than this, that it wasn't too late to start fresh. Apparently it was best if we moved to another state, new house, new school, new everything.
'But what about me?'. Everything was about me. I was where I belonged, or so I thought.
We argued for ages. For the first time you hit me across the face. I was angry. I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't do it. It was the alcohol, or maybe the drugs.
I retrieved the gun from my pocket and shot you. Everything else from there is a blur. I wanted to wake up and realise it was all a dream.
'Guilty' said the judge in a cold tone. Now here I am in gaol writing you this letter. Maybe this is where I belong.
A creative writing task I did last year. Hope you enjoyed.
You'll never guess where I'm writing from.
I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I admit I was wrong, I just wish you were here to hear me say it.
It was an accident, something I truly regret. Do you forgive me? I know I should have let you know before it happened, but I do love you. Do you still love me?
Do you remember when I was six years old? It was scorching hot outside and you were gardening. You enjoyed gardening. You said you loved watching the Purple Dendrobium Orchid Flowers grow; they were your second favourite. But most of all you said that you loved watching me grow; and that one day I too would grow to be tall and beautiful.
I was playing with my water gun. You were sweating from the heat and looked tired. I thought it would be funny if I sprayed a bit of water on you as a practical joke. With little thought my little fingers pulled against the plastic trigger.
I still remember the look on your face. Your icy blue green eyes were suddenly filled with a rage I had never seen before. I was frozen with terror. My heart skipped a beat, butterflies flooded my stomach, and as my mouth fell open I let out a gasp.
Back then my world was tiny. Having to go to 'the corner' was one of the harshest punishments imaginable. There I would think about what I did wrong, but here in this cold and clammy room it aches to think. At least there I was safe, safe from the rest of world. This Earth really is a scary place.
I wish I could go back, and remain six years old forever.
I turned to run inside, fearful of hearing you shout at me; possibly even smack me. They used to hurt, but not as much as the pain I experience writing this letter to you.
I was hit with a tidal wave of puzzlement when a surge of water splattered across the back of my dress. 'Had I run into a puddle?' I thought.
You wet me with the hose as an act of revenge and was laughing hysterically. I had never seen you so overjoyed. I still remember that water fight as if it was only yesterday.
Now at twenty years of age, I wish I had stuck to just water guns. The assembly of fluorescent coloured fragments brimful with water are harmless, they don't cost lives. Metal tubing and bullets are deadly, of course, I would know.
I wasn't the greatest daughter in the world. Now I realise I didn't deserve a mother like you. I rebelled against you, I'm sorry. I was profoundly selfish. Why it takes something like this for me to change I don't know.
I guess after dad had gone, I turned to the wrong friends for comfort. The sort of 'friends' who convinced me into believing partying, crime, getting high and smoking would help keep my mind away from my problems - instead they only created more.
Of course, I wasn't always like that. You and I used to be close; we would talk about everything till the cows came home. I miss those moments. I would bring home good grades; I wanted to be a doctor, and you believed in me.
A few weeks ago we were arguing. I arrived home at six in the morning with a massive hangover. I stumbled through the door - hair messed, eyes red and on the brink of conciousness; you were sitting down in the living room reading a magazine with the phone close at hand. Before I had time to lie and blurt out a new lame explanation to excuse me for coming home so late, you slammed the magazine down, and I could see tears forming in your eyes.
You started yelling at me. You said that you didn't know the person who I had become; come to think of it, till now, neither do I. You told me I was throwing my life away, that I was better than this, that it wasn't too late to start fresh. Apparently it was best if we moved to another state, new house, new school, new everything.
'But what about me?'. Everything was about me. I was where I belonged, or so I thought.
We argued for ages. For the first time you hit me across the face. I was angry. I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't do it. It was the alcohol, or maybe the drugs.
I retrieved the gun from my pocket and shot you. Everything else from there is a blur. I wanted to wake up and realise it was all a dream.
'Guilty' said the judge in a cold tone. Now here I am in gaol writing you this letter. Maybe this is where I belong.
A creative writing task I did last year. Hope you enjoyed.
Tuesdays with Morrie
Quotes from my favourite book
Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom
"AN OLD MAN, A YOUNG MAN, & LIFE'S GREATEST LESSON"
"Love wins. Love always wins."
"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your lifeis to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
"Let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely - but eventually be able to say, 'All right that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well' "
"Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat something over and over. Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. More commercialism is good. More is good. More is good. We repeat it - and have it repeated to us - over and over until nobody bothers to think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore... These were people so hungry for love that they were accepting substitutes... but it never works. You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship."
"People haven't found meaning in their lives, so they're running all the time looking for it. They think the next car, the next house, the next job. They find those things are empty too, and they keep running."
"If you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down at you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off to people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to equally float between everyone."
Tuesdays with Morrie - Mitch Albom
"AN OLD MAN, A YOUNG MAN, & LIFE'S GREATEST LESSON"
"Love wins. Love always wins."
"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your lifeis to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
"Let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely - but eventually be able to say, 'All right that was my moment with loneliness. I'm not afraid of feeling lonely, but now I'm going to put that loneliness aside and know that there are other emotions in the world, and I'm going to experience them as well' "
"Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat something over and over. Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. More commercialism is good. More is good. More is good. We repeat it - and have it repeated to us - over and over until nobody bothers to think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore... These were people so hungry for love that they were accepting substitutes... but it never works. You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship."
"People haven't found meaning in their lives, so they're running all the time looking for it. They think the next car, the next house, the next job. They find those things are empty too, and they keep running."
"If you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down at you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off to people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to equally float between everyone."
Tuesday 15 November 2005
All the leaves are brown
All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey. It's currently pissing down rain. Ironically enough, it may be because there aint no sunshine when she's gone.
Sucks balls that the smallest things relate back to the last person you want to be thinking about.
What if - this
What if - that
Definitely - over
Maybe - later
Sucks balls that the smallest things relate back to the last person you want to be thinking about.
What if - this
What if - that
Definitely - over
Maybe - later
Wednesday 26 October 2005
That's Life
For someone who thinks a lot - I didn't think I'd come to this. Not now, at least. It seems as though the anarchy of thoughts messing with my head have died down. I became accustomed to writing about the calamities of my life, tearing at my mind that I don't know where to start in recounting the good that have occurred. So, what can I say? Life's great. The aspects of friends, family, school and me are close to balanced.
School Certificate is just around the corner. Surprisingly, I'm not all that fussed about it. After all, it's not going to determine the rest of my life. I see it more as an indication as to how I'm doing; whether I should keep up the good work or lift my game a little.
Family. It's an iffy subject for me. I haven't heard from my Dad in ages; you get used to that. I love my mum. When I grow up, I want to be like her. Unlike other parents, she isn't the overpowering type. Her judgements aren't made from tha basis of:"Because I said so". She'll step down from the parenting platform and consider seeing things through my eyes. She understands me. She laughs at the stupidest things, so now we all know where I get that from. I have her hands.
Oh how I adore the friends, my true loves! I've learnt a lesson that most people don't discover till after they've graduated: It doesn't matter how popular you are...
Can you honestly say that all three hundred-or-so of those affiliations know, at the very least, your favourite colour?
Can you confidently appoint any one of them at random to organise your wedding - catering to perfection your taste?
Can you sincerely depend on all those people to provide an accurate, touching and emotional speech at your funeral?
Most likely, the answer is no.
Not everyone that you consider a friend will know your favourite colour. It's a minority that can back up their argument in saying you prefer hot pink to baby pink, and that your room is an overstatement to colour favouritism.
A staggering 99% of people you consider a friend are not qualified enough to organise something as important as your wedding. They don't know if you're spontaneous enough to be up for a bare-naked wedding, or a person of simplicity to want a small wedding in a pretty little garden. They have no idea of what your taste in flowers is like, and you arrive to find a woodland inspired wed-lock ceremony.
Even less people would be able to deliver a captivating speech at your funeral. Oh yeah, I met her at a party. She seemed nice. She looked hot... what was her name again?
To your friends you're not just nice – you're one of the most amazing people they've ever met.
To your friends you're not just hot. They know of your insecurities: that you're self conscious about your big thighs and remember the time you tried making yourself throw up, and through it all…still think that you're beautiful.
Only your friends have an endless supply of anecdotes. That time you ran into a glass door. The times when the argument you're both engaged in loses seriousness because you start to sound like Cartmen from Southpark when you raise your voice. That time the both of you took over two hundred photos in one day, and cried when the camera broke a few weeks later.
In the end, it doesn't matter how many people recognise you when you're at a dance party or walking down the street. All you need to survive is a few people in your life that know you inside and out, can make you smile when you're on the verge of tears, speak for you as if you said the words yourself, and listen to the story you've told a thousand times without complaining.
Friends OVER boyfriends and UNDERstand that should anything happen between you and your man, it's the friends who were be there before, and will still be there after, all the tragedy. They saw you playing the role of Miss Independent - making the single life look good, watched you lose yourself like Eminem with someone you thought was different and put up with your crying when it was over. It's the life cycle of teenage drama. The worst thing you can do is push them away when a boy comes along, and pry them back when the boy walks away. Boyfriends come and go, but best friends are forever!
School Certificate is just around the corner. Surprisingly, I'm not all that fussed about it. After all, it's not going to determine the rest of my life. I see it more as an indication as to how I'm doing; whether I should keep up the good work or lift my game a little.
Family. It's an iffy subject for me. I haven't heard from my Dad in ages; you get used to that. I love my mum. When I grow up, I want to be like her. Unlike other parents, she isn't the overpowering type. Her judgements aren't made from tha basis of:"Because I said so". She'll step down from the parenting platform and consider seeing things through my eyes. She understands me. She laughs at the stupidest things, so now we all know where I get that from. I have her hands.
Oh how I adore the friends, my true loves! I've learnt a lesson that most people don't discover till after they've graduated: It doesn't matter how popular you are...
Can you honestly say that all three hundred-or-so of those affiliations know, at the very least, your favourite colour?
Can you confidently appoint any one of them at random to organise your wedding - catering to perfection your taste?
Can you sincerely depend on all those people to provide an accurate, touching and emotional speech at your funeral?
Most likely, the answer is no.
Not everyone that you consider a friend will know your favourite colour. It's a minority that can back up their argument in saying you prefer hot pink to baby pink, and that your room is an overstatement to colour favouritism.
A staggering 99% of people you consider a friend are not qualified enough to organise something as important as your wedding. They don't know if you're spontaneous enough to be up for a bare-naked wedding, or a person of simplicity to want a small wedding in a pretty little garden. They have no idea of what your taste in flowers is like, and you arrive to find a woodland inspired wed-lock ceremony.
Even less people would be able to deliver a captivating speech at your funeral. Oh yeah, I met her at a party. She seemed nice. She looked hot... what was her name again?
To your friends you're not just nice – you're one of the most amazing people they've ever met.
To your friends you're not just hot. They know of your insecurities: that you're self conscious about your big thighs and remember the time you tried making yourself throw up, and through it all…still think that you're beautiful.
Only your friends have an endless supply of anecdotes. That time you ran into a glass door. The times when the argument you're both engaged in loses seriousness because you start to sound like Cartmen from Southpark when you raise your voice. That time the both of you took over two hundred photos in one day, and cried when the camera broke a few weeks later.
In the end, it doesn't matter how many people recognise you when you're at a dance party or walking down the street. All you need to survive is a few people in your life that know you inside and out, can make you smile when you're on the verge of tears, speak for you as if you said the words yourself, and listen to the story you've told a thousand times without complaining.
Friends OVER boyfriends and UNDERstand that should anything happen between you and your man, it's the friends who were be there before, and will still be there after, all the tragedy. They saw you playing the role of Miss Independent - making the single life look good, watched you lose yourself like Eminem with someone you thought was different and put up with your crying when it was over. It's the life cycle of teenage drama. The worst thing you can do is push them away when a boy comes along, and pry them back when the boy walks away. Boyfriends come and go, but best friends are forever!
Monday 17 October 2005
Life's little mysteries
In that song, she'll be coming around the mountain, who is she?
If Dracula has no reflection, how comes he always had such a straight parting in his hair?
Why does the Easter bunny carry eggs? Rabbits don't lay eggs.
Why did Mary own a little lamb?
How do "do not walk on grass" signs get there?
Can a person with no ears wear glasses?
When people say, "I'm so tired it's not even funny" or "my head hurts so much it's not even funny", why would it even be funny in the first place?
Aren't the 'good things that come to those who wait' just the leftovers from the people that got there first?
Can you breathe out of your nose and mouth at the same time?
"Have you ever noticed that if you rearranged the letters in mother in law, they come out to Woman Hitler?"
If heat rises, then shouldn't hell be cold?
Why do they call the small candy bars the "fun sizes"? Wouldn't be more fun to eat a big one?
If the day before a holiday is called Christmas Eve, is the day after Christmas Adam?
When you see the weather report and it says "partly cloudy" and then the next day it says "partly sunny"; what's the difference?
Can a person choke and die on a life saver?
Why do birds bob their heads when they walk?
Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?
How come stealing from one book is plagiarism, but stealing from many is research?
What are those little things on the end of your shoelaces called?
Have you ever thought what life would be like if your name was Anonymous? You'd get credit for everything nobody wanted credit for?
Why does caregiver and caretaker mean the same thing?
If an ambulance is on its way to save someone, and it runs someone over, does it stop to help them?
Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp which no decent human being would eat?
Why are boxing rings square?
Can good looking Eskimo girls be called hot?
Why do they call them "apartments" when they are all stuck together?
Why is the alphabet in that order? Is it because of that song?
Why is the word "abbreviate" so long?
Can fat people go skinny-dipping?
If love is blind, how can we believe in love at first sight?
What's the opposite of opposite?
If a robber tried to rob a dance club and yelled, "Everybody get down", would all the people start dancing?
Where in the nursery rhyme does it say humpty dumpty is an egg?
If quizzes are quizzical then what are tests?
If a Man is talking in the forest and there is no woman there to hear him, is he still wrong?
Is there a Dr. Salt?
If Dracula has no reflection, how comes he always had such a straight parting in his hair?
Why does the Easter bunny carry eggs? Rabbits don't lay eggs.
Why did Mary own a little lamb?
How do "do not walk on grass" signs get there?
Can a person with no ears wear glasses?
When people say, "I'm so tired it's not even funny" or "my head hurts so much it's not even funny", why would it even be funny in the first place?
Aren't the 'good things that come to those who wait' just the leftovers from the people that got there first?
Can you breathe out of your nose and mouth at the same time?
"Have you ever noticed that if you rearranged the letters in mother in law, they come out to Woman Hitler?"
If heat rises, then shouldn't hell be cold?
Why do they call the small candy bars the "fun sizes"? Wouldn't be more fun to eat a big one?
If the day before a holiday is called Christmas Eve, is the day after Christmas Adam?
When you see the weather report and it says "partly cloudy" and then the next day it says "partly sunny"; what's the difference?
Can a person choke and die on a life saver?
Why do birds bob their heads when they walk?
Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?
How come stealing from one book is plagiarism, but stealing from many is research?
What are those little things on the end of your shoelaces called?
Have you ever thought what life would be like if your name was Anonymous? You'd get credit for everything nobody wanted credit for?
Why does caregiver and caretaker mean the same thing?
If an ambulance is on its way to save someone, and it runs someone over, does it stop to help them?
Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp which no decent human being would eat?
Why are boxing rings square?
Can good looking Eskimo girls be called hot?
Why do they call them "apartments" when they are all stuck together?
Why is the alphabet in that order? Is it because of that song?
Why is the word "abbreviate" so long?
Can fat people go skinny-dipping?
If love is blind, how can we believe in love at first sight?
What's the opposite of opposite?
If a robber tried to rob a dance club and yelled, "Everybody get down", would all the people start dancing?
Where in the nursery rhyme does it say humpty dumpty is an egg?
If quizzes are quizzical then what are tests?
If a Man is talking in the forest and there is no woman there to hear him, is he still wrong?
Is there a Dr. Salt?
Saturday 1 October 2005
Birthday Bondi Beach Bash
Memorable moments of Friday 30th September 05: BONDI BEACH
* Vii and I being nigeled at our corresponding train stations because of our friends who took yonkers, providing some sort of comfort on the phone with each other and complaining about waiting. Realising that hardly anyone was coming.
* Robert, Andel & Christy kicking the ball on the railway tracks, and as a consequence missing our train.
* My mood swings. The outbursts. The unstoppable l a u g h i n g . The unbearable screaming.
* The guy on the train who had a bag that looked like a vacum cleaner. Wot tha?
* Arriving at Bondi to realise Vii and I weren't such losers after all. Hello people! We've become such an anti RSVP generation.
* Being given taxed chocolate and not knowing how to react. It was taxed.. but it was chocolate!
* The photo sessions.
* Being thrown into the water by Jeremy and CJ. The event resembled a satanic ritual. I was the wild and screaming borehog that the barbarians - Jeremy and CJ were about to sacrifice.
* Vii and I experiencing the most difficulty in withstanding the waves because we were that short.
* The accidental booby flashes.. AHAHAHA! hello!
* Jeremy throwing me into the water.. again!
* Theresa and I throwing the football like a netball because we didn't know how to pass it. "Whoever drops the ball first is a loser" .. so what do I do? I drop the ball. I didn't like the game anymore.
* Robert and I making sandcastles.. or 'piles of sand'.. for a while we had a next door neighbour.
* Being beyond gullible. Falling for everything Chysley said, like burying Andrew's shoes in the sand leaving him barefoot; among many others.
* Andrew taking luvo photos of himself and making it everyone's mobile phone wallpaper.
* Danica and I unable to bear with the reggae music. "Looking in her big brown eyes!"
* The bus ride home with Frances and having tiredness dawn over me.
* Being thankful for such a beautiful day and being one less victim of suburn.
* Vii and I being nigeled at our corresponding train stations because of our friends who took yonkers, providing some sort of comfort on the phone with each other and complaining about waiting. Realising that hardly anyone was coming.
* Robert, Andel & Christy kicking the ball on the railway tracks, and as a consequence missing our train.
* My mood swings. The outbursts. The unstoppable l a u g h i n g . The unbearable screaming.
* The guy on the train who had a bag that looked like a vacum cleaner. Wot tha?
* Arriving at Bondi to realise Vii and I weren't such losers after all. Hello people! We've become such an anti RSVP generation.
* Being given taxed chocolate and not knowing how to react. It was taxed.. but it was chocolate!
* The photo sessions.
* Being thrown into the water by Jeremy and CJ. The event resembled a satanic ritual. I was the wild and screaming borehog that the barbarians - Jeremy and CJ were about to sacrifice.
* Vii and I experiencing the most difficulty in withstanding the waves because we were that short.
* The accidental booby flashes.. AHAHAHA! hello!
* Jeremy throwing me into the water.. again!
* Theresa and I throwing the football like a netball because we didn't know how to pass it. "Whoever drops the ball first is a loser" .. so what do I do? I drop the ball. I didn't like the game anymore.
* Robert and I making sandcastles.. or 'piles of sand'.. for a while we had a next door neighbour.
* Being beyond gullible. Falling for everything Chysley said, like burying Andrew's shoes in the sand leaving him barefoot; among many others.
* Andrew taking luvo photos of himself and making it everyone's mobile phone wallpaper.
* Danica and I unable to bear with the reggae music. "Looking in her big brown eyes!"
* The bus ride home with Frances and having tiredness dawn over me.
* Being thankful for such a beautiful day and being one less victim of suburn.
Monday 26 September 2005
Friends are the family you're allowed to pick
Noeline. Jeremy. May.
Three ordinary people who see each other in an extraordinary way.
Friends. People I've picked to be part of my family.
The end of the blame game. No more accusations about which side of the family we seem to have inherited our 'bad' features from.
Why we have overly thick hair. Why we have extremely thin hair. Why we're so short. Why we're too tall.
All of that doesn't matter anymore.
Finally, WE have the final say in who can, and who cannot, influence our inner self.
Why we're bitchy. Why we're nice. Why we put an act. Why we're ourselves.
And to a large extent, it's because of our friends that we're who we are on the inside.
Blame them, and ultimately, you're only blaming yourself.
They ARE you; and YOU them.
So goes the saying "Date one person, and you're dating their friends and family"
Don't say you're only into wog boys, rock music, surfy clothes and red nail polish because the rest of your group is; and that's what it takes to remain. That's just a display of your vulnerability to find real friends.
Jeremy, May and I, comfortable with our differences, were on the rooftop of May's place. The perfect place to play murder in the dark. We would have, but then we turned seven years old. Ok, no more pretending to be mature - it's because it was sunny that we didn't. We decided to admit defeat to the weather and just talked.
We talked about The Three F's:
1. Food… typical!
2. Friends
3. Family
For those few hours, we were happy basking in the sun surrounded by each others company. Perhaps what we discovered that day, about ourselves and within one another was our inability to accept the imperfections of our biological family. We were three people, the same in some aspects but more importantly - different in others.
We were the result of three different families.
Jeremy came from the 'normal' family, broadly speaking. He had a mother, father and younger sister.
May had a mother, father and siblings; yet wished her parents were separated.
I coming from a divorced family hoped my parents would never get back together.
May thought I was the luckiest girl alive. I envied that at least her father stuck around; I only saw mine every now and then.
What I'd give to have a set of parents who were together and got along - like Jeremy's.
What Jeremy would give to have the kind of close relationship I have with my mother.
Three completely different scenarios, yet each of us were unhappy with the one we came from. It just goes to show: Is anyone ever completely happy with their family?
Like me, we can be content; accept that things aren't, and never will be perfect – and cope with it.
Regardless of what kind of family we come from, I bet, if given the chance, we'd have an endless list of 'rooms for improvement'. Families aren't supposed to be impeccable. Siblings weren't made to get along. Life wasn't meant to be easy.
Still, to be alive is a grand thing. Contentedness is accepting the imperfections that life entails.
Three ordinary people who see each other in an extraordinary way.
Friends. People I've picked to be part of my family.
The end of the blame game. No more accusations about which side of the family we seem to have inherited our 'bad' features from.
Why we have overly thick hair. Why we have extremely thin hair. Why we're so short. Why we're too tall.
All of that doesn't matter anymore.
Finally, WE have the final say in who can, and who cannot, influence our inner self.
Why we're bitchy. Why we're nice. Why we put an act. Why we're ourselves.
And to a large extent, it's because of our friends that we're who we are on the inside.
Blame them, and ultimately, you're only blaming yourself.
They ARE you; and YOU them.
So goes the saying "Date one person, and you're dating their friends and family"
Don't say you're only into wog boys, rock music, surfy clothes and red nail polish because the rest of your group is; and that's what it takes to remain. That's just a display of your vulnerability to find real friends.
Jeremy, May and I, comfortable with our differences, were on the rooftop of May's place. The perfect place to play murder in the dark. We would have, but then we turned seven years old. Ok, no more pretending to be mature - it's because it was sunny that we didn't. We decided to admit defeat to the weather and just talked.
We talked about The Three F's:
1. Food… typical!
2. Friends
3. Family
For those few hours, we were happy basking in the sun surrounded by each others company. Perhaps what we discovered that day, about ourselves and within one another was our inability to accept the imperfections of our biological family. We were three people, the same in some aspects but more importantly - different in others.
We were the result of three different families.
Jeremy came from the 'normal' family, broadly speaking. He had a mother, father and younger sister.
May had a mother, father and siblings; yet wished her parents were separated.
I coming from a divorced family hoped my parents would never get back together.
May thought I was the luckiest girl alive. I envied that at least her father stuck around; I only saw mine every now and then.
What I'd give to have a set of parents who were together and got along - like Jeremy's.
What Jeremy would give to have the kind of close relationship I have with my mother.
Three completely different scenarios, yet each of us were unhappy with the one we came from. It just goes to show: Is anyone ever completely happy with their family?
Like me, we can be content; accept that things aren't, and never will be perfect – and cope with it.
Regardless of what kind of family we come from, I bet, if given the chance, we'd have an endless list of 'rooms for improvement'. Families aren't supposed to be impeccable. Siblings weren't made to get along. Life wasn't meant to be easy.
Still, to be alive is a grand thing. Contentedness is accepting the imperfections that life entails.
Friday 23 September 2005
THANKYOU !!
I'd like to thank all you beautiful people who, yesterday, made my 16th birthday the absolute best! Sweet sixteen? Indeed it was.
Thanks a bunch for the greetings, the hugs, the kisses, the smiles, the laughter, the cards, the text massages, the phone calls, the belly ring and most surprisingly - that birthday cake!
Oh my gosh, I can't believe yous had the whole candle thing going on =) Plates? Spoons? Knife? Serviettes? Prepared! I think yous were more prepared for that than the trials themselves.
"Hurry up and blow the candles Noeline!" Who needs wishes when I've got friends lyk yous!
But ok.. an extra wish won't hurt.. woot!
I honestly thought no one would make a fuss as the week was full of exams, demanding hours of study and thoughts running riot in the fields of english, maths, history and geography.
A most pleasant surprise to see that you guys (you know who you are) were capable of arranging such an act behind my back.
The belly ring.. prettyfull! The cake.. delish! Chocolate.. my favourite!
My friends.. THE BEST !!
Being the 'goody two shoes' I am, you guys are aware I hardly ever swear but..
F*CK I LOVE YOU GUYS
Hope you guys all have a safe & fantabolous holiday. I'll see you guys around. Remember to behave!
Love, Noeline
xox
P.S. Happy Birthday to my gorgeous Frances on the 26th. From your #1 'effing byatch' !
Thanks a bunch for the greetings, the hugs, the kisses, the smiles, the laughter, the cards, the text massages, the phone calls, the belly ring and most surprisingly - that birthday cake!
Oh my gosh, I can't believe yous had the whole candle thing going on =) Plates? Spoons? Knife? Serviettes? Prepared! I think yous were more prepared for that than the trials themselves.
"Hurry up and blow the candles Noeline!" Who needs wishes when I've got friends lyk yous!
But ok.. an extra wish won't hurt.. woot!
I honestly thought no one would make a fuss as the week was full of exams, demanding hours of study and thoughts running riot in the fields of english, maths, history and geography.
A most pleasant surprise to see that you guys (you know who you are) were capable of arranging such an act behind my back.
The belly ring.. prettyfull! The cake.. delish! Chocolate.. my favourite!
My friends.. THE BEST !!
Being the 'goody two shoes' I am, you guys are aware I hardly ever swear but..
F*CK I LOVE YOU GUYS
Hope you guys all have a safe & fantabolous holiday. I'll see you guys around. Remember to behave!
Love, Noeline
xox
P.S. Happy Birthday to my gorgeous Frances on the 26th. From your #1 'effing byatch' !
That's how you LIKE it, huh?
The day was Friday September 9 2005. Frances, Christine, Amanda, Carmela and Noeline of 10 Aikenhead were casually waiting for the commencement of their double period of sport. Their teacher, Mrs Smith was running late; not that it mattered much, they weren't sport fanatics anyway. They were the type of people who participated in the name of fun.
Two straight lines talking quietly amongst themselves was the behaviour expectant of a grade 10 class, but on that particular day - were under the formation of sub classes scattered across the playground, divided by friendship groups bound by the balanced dynamics of personality.
Perhaps a practical sport lesson, first thing on a Friday morning was a dreaded wake up call for the students, more concerned about counting down the hours; because for the girls of All Saints, 3:05pm officially marked their weekend. The final bell was, as always, melodious. It congratulated them for making it past four days from that dreaded Monday. They had two days to either relax, or use as compensation to catch up on the work they were too lazy to complete in class.
There were the groups making final amendments to their game presentation assessment, flicking frantically over their notes, others were retreiving sport equipment in preparation for the upcoming lesson, and the rest were chatting amongst one another. There wasn't much to talk about, for they saw each other everyday, and after school would talk on the phone or chat on the internet. For every five boring conversations there was one interesting one - if you were lucky. Usually they talked about their weird dreams, how weird it was that some of them barely dreamt, sleeping in and what they had for breakfast - or their lack of it. Ever since grade 7, it was the same old.
And that's where we come in. Frances, Christine, Amanda, Carmela and I wound ourselves in an argumentative debate over the issue of 'like'. Don't even ask how it all started. It seemed to have popped out of thin air and consumed us completely, like a school of fish oblivious to the fact they were just eaten by a shark. Before you knew it we were talking at the same time, eager to get our two cents in.
The topic was 'Under what conditions do you like someone?' We would have made for a heated episode of Jerry Springer, had we not been snapped into the realisation that we were in P.E. class and not an english debating lesson - to our disappointment.
I was outnumbered in saying that I only like someone under the conditions that I am 100% certain they like me, first. There's still guys I find hot, cute, attractive - however you want to put it, but I have no intent in pursuing.
My stubborn attitude has its downfalls. Just say I was compatible with this guy but we both thought the same. He wouldn't like me unless I told him I liked him, and I wouldn't like him unless he told me he liked me. There goes the chance of a possibly fantastic relationship.
I've seen it happen too many times: Friends who secretly like a guy she's never spoken to, only to be 'heartbroken' when they see another girl in his arms. Call me lazy, ignorant or old fashioned, but I'm just not the chasing type. I don't like wasting my time thinking about someone who, at the very least doesn't even know how to spell my name. I can't be bothered missing someone who doesn't care about me... but I admire the girls who do.
It's like free falling from the sky - from your dreams, just hoping that he'll be the one person to notice that you're plummeting towards the ground and catch you when you land. Talk about extreme sport. In most cases you land injured, confused, angry and scarred for life. It's risky, that. I'm too chiken sh*t to take my chances. Too scared that a pretty girl will walk by and steal his attention; leaving me to pick myself up. It's pain I don't wish to inflict upon myself.
On the other hand Christine, Frances and Amanda saw different - not wrong; just different. They had the audacity to like the very people they were attracted to. Upon what grounds, only they themselves can say. Maybe when they aren't the type to make a big deal out of not ending up with the person they liked, or perhaps they have qualities (that I don't have) to get past it and move on to like someone else.
What surprised me furthermore was found in their saying that they were able to like someone, whilst not necessarily wanting to go out with them. If you like them, isn't that because you saw in them the intrinsic worth that makes for a potential partner? Potential husband credentials? [Guys if you're reading this make a comment and please explain]
I see it as a one way ticket to Disappointment. A journey that lasts accordingly to your feelings. If you look to the window on your left, you'll see him flirting with your worst enemy, and to your right - there he is introducing her to his family. In about five minutes we'll be passing by the beautiful church where they are soon to wed. When you've seen enough feel free to jump out.
Carmela was the fence sitter in the conversation. She recognised both sides without necessarilly taking to one. Like she said: "it depends" which is true. There's circumstances, whether you choose to acknowledge them or not. The person you like may be the same person your friend fancies, he/she may have once dated your best friend, or possibly they ARE your best friend. They may not ready be for a relationship like you are, are content cruising the single life or just don't have the time. The matter isn't black and white. There's shades of grey in between that changes the whole picture.
I love how my friends disagree with me, as odd as it sounds. They're people I can conversate with. They're my party coloured lightbulbs that help me see things in a different way. Whether they be the red, green, blue, orange, yellow or standard kind, they each emit their own light - their individual opinions on a single situation. That in itself, in my opinion, is friendship at its finest.
I'm a Virgo. A neat freak and an over analytical perfectionist. For me to maintain my sanity everything has to be logical. But in situations concerning like - what's logical? If like leads to the magic of love, where does that leave me?
For the most part, what IS love? Is it our animal instincts telling us to hurry up and do our bit in continuing the human race? Is it the surging of particular 'feel-good' hormones simply ignited by a look, a smile, a kiss? Logic, my best friend says so. But Faith, my other best friend tells me otherwise. Faith tells me that love is what makes the difference between a life wasted or a life fulfilled. Ahh, such irony.
Added 25/09/05: Today I learnt a valuable lesson. Such one that contradicts everything in the previous entry about my opinion on the whole 'like' thing.
You can like someone, but sometimes it's not enough to keep a relationship going.
There's a certain amount that fuels the duration of relationships. When it's scarce, the relationship is no longer running on like, you're pushing it - physically and emotionally.
Two straight lines talking quietly amongst themselves was the behaviour expectant of a grade 10 class, but on that particular day - were under the formation of sub classes scattered across the playground, divided by friendship groups bound by the balanced dynamics of personality.
Perhaps a practical sport lesson, first thing on a Friday morning was a dreaded wake up call for the students, more concerned about counting down the hours; because for the girls of All Saints, 3:05pm officially marked their weekend. The final bell was, as always, melodious. It congratulated them for making it past four days from that dreaded Monday. They had two days to either relax, or use as compensation to catch up on the work they were too lazy to complete in class.
There were the groups making final amendments to their game presentation assessment, flicking frantically over their notes, others were retreiving sport equipment in preparation for the upcoming lesson, and the rest were chatting amongst one another. There wasn't much to talk about, for they saw each other everyday, and after school would talk on the phone or chat on the internet. For every five boring conversations there was one interesting one - if you were lucky. Usually they talked about their weird dreams, how weird it was that some of them barely dreamt, sleeping in and what they had for breakfast - or their lack of it. Ever since grade 7, it was the same old.
And that's where we come in. Frances, Christine, Amanda, Carmela and I wound ourselves in an argumentative debate over the issue of 'like'. Don't even ask how it all started. It seemed to have popped out of thin air and consumed us completely, like a school of fish oblivious to the fact they were just eaten by a shark. Before you knew it we were talking at the same time, eager to get our two cents in.
The topic was 'Under what conditions do you like someone?' We would have made for a heated episode of Jerry Springer, had we not been snapped into the realisation that we were in P.E. class and not an english debating lesson - to our disappointment.
I was outnumbered in saying that I only like someone under the conditions that I am 100% certain they like me, first. There's still guys I find hot, cute, attractive - however you want to put it, but I have no intent in pursuing.
My stubborn attitude has its downfalls. Just say I was compatible with this guy but we both thought the same. He wouldn't like me unless I told him I liked him, and I wouldn't like him unless he told me he liked me. There goes the chance of a possibly fantastic relationship.
I've seen it happen too many times: Friends who secretly like a guy she's never spoken to, only to be 'heartbroken' when they see another girl in his arms. Call me lazy, ignorant or old fashioned, but I'm just not the chasing type. I don't like wasting my time thinking about someone who, at the very least doesn't even know how to spell my name. I can't be bothered missing someone who doesn't care about me... but I admire the girls who do.
It's like free falling from the sky - from your dreams, just hoping that he'll be the one person to notice that you're plummeting towards the ground and catch you when you land. Talk about extreme sport. In most cases you land injured, confused, angry and scarred for life. It's risky, that. I'm too chiken sh*t to take my chances. Too scared that a pretty girl will walk by and steal his attention; leaving me to pick myself up. It's pain I don't wish to inflict upon myself.
On the other hand Christine, Frances and Amanda saw different - not wrong; just different. They had the audacity to like the very people they were attracted to. Upon what grounds, only they themselves can say. Maybe when they aren't the type to make a big deal out of not ending up with the person they liked, or perhaps they have qualities (that I don't have) to get past it and move on to like someone else.
What surprised me furthermore was found in their saying that they were able to like someone, whilst not necessarily wanting to go out with them. If you like them, isn't that because you saw in them the intrinsic worth that makes for a potential partner? Potential husband credentials? [Guys if you're reading this make a comment and please explain]
I see it as a one way ticket to Disappointment. A journey that lasts accordingly to your feelings. If you look to the window on your left, you'll see him flirting with your worst enemy, and to your right - there he is introducing her to his family. In about five minutes we'll be passing by the beautiful church where they are soon to wed. When you've seen enough feel free to jump out.
Carmela was the fence sitter in the conversation. She recognised both sides without necessarilly taking to one. Like she said: "it depends" which is true. There's circumstances, whether you choose to acknowledge them or not. The person you like may be the same person your friend fancies, he/she may have once dated your best friend, or possibly they ARE your best friend. They may not ready be for a relationship like you are, are content cruising the single life or just don't have the time. The matter isn't black and white. There's shades of grey in between that changes the whole picture.
I love how my friends disagree with me, as odd as it sounds. They're people I can conversate with. They're my party coloured lightbulbs that help me see things in a different way. Whether they be the red, green, blue, orange, yellow or standard kind, they each emit their own light - their individual opinions on a single situation. That in itself, in my opinion, is friendship at its finest.
I'm a Virgo. A neat freak and an over analytical perfectionist. For me to maintain my sanity everything has to be logical. But in situations concerning like - what's logical? If like leads to the magic of love, where does that leave me?
For the most part, what IS love? Is it our animal instincts telling us to hurry up and do our bit in continuing the human race? Is it the surging of particular 'feel-good' hormones simply ignited by a look, a smile, a kiss? Logic, my best friend says so. But Faith, my other best friend tells me otherwise. Faith tells me that love is what makes the difference between a life wasted or a life fulfilled. Ahh, such irony.
Added 25/09/05: Today I learnt a valuable lesson. Such one that contradicts everything in the previous entry about my opinion on the whole 'like' thing.
You can like someone, but sometimes it's not enough to keep a relationship going.
There's a certain amount that fuels the duration of relationships. When it's scarce, the relationship is no longer running on like, you're pushing it - physically and emotionally.
Thursday 15 September 2005
Something Beautiful
I know I said I wouldn't blog for a while, but stuff it. Writing is my release and unless I write when I'm in the mood, my writing just won't be the same.
Today I woke up with a sore ankle, and it being Thursday, aerobics day, I decided it best if I perhaps stayed home. I was, although, well enough to accompany my mum in taking my brother to school. The school was holding a special presentation, showcasing their best works, performances and dances. It is a relatively new school established only a few years ago. The eldest grade reaching only to the fifth; had only four boys in the whole class. Yet it failed to lack any less a sense of community like those of much larger schools. Its young pupils were active, possibly feeding of the energy of their enthusiastic teachers, or maybe it was the other way around. The stigma of that first day of school was ditched for the joys of being with other kids their age, learning and working towards the 'student of the week' promotion.
It had been years since my days at primary school that I had forgotten what it was like. Paper Mache humpty dumpty's hung from the ceiling like trophies. Pieces of work cascaded the walls like that of a doctor's office exhibiting his certificates of qualification.
But what dredged the most forgotten of memories was in looking at the children. There was...
Something beautiful about being so innocent.
Something beautiful about their eagerness to learn.
Something beautiful about wanting to purchase a book from the book fair.
Something beautiful about fitting into such tiny clothes.
Something beautiful about having a big heart for such a small person.
Something beautiful about having your four front teeth missing and still having the audacity to mingle with the boys.
Something beautiful about rushing to eat so you can have more play time.
Something beautiful about being so carefree.
I realised that these were qualities everyone, including myself, once possessed; but we lost bit by bit with everyday that we transitioned into high school. We don't want to do our homework because it's nerdy to get awards, uncool to get the top marks. We don't want to be caught dead reading a book assigned from our English teacher, let alone for our own personal pleasure because that's boring, stupid and a waste of time. We don't want to come across as overly nice because other people will take advantage of us, like make us do their homework, continually ask for food and money, or put us down to make themselves feel better about themselves because after all they're 'just joking and we know they love us'. We wear our insecurities on our sleeves, and wear down the spirit of our friends because we feel ugly, fat, or just not in the mood. We don't want to face the boys until we've fixed our hair, glossed our lips, lined our eyes, blushed our cheeks, straightened our hair, had our nails done, updated our bitchy attitude and lost 10 kilograms. What has become of us?
If that's all a compulsory part of growing up, I'd do anything to become a kid again. The most of my worries would extend to whom to play with when your best friend is away, sick with the chicken pox? These days, it's what will you be when you grow up, boyfriends will only - and ONLY distract you from your studies, begging for money to buy an outfit for the party this weekend and how to look like those models who flood the pages of magazines, contradicting their articles about being happy with yourself.
It's good to be a kid at heart. For a few minutes we're able to relive what it was like to have something beautiful. I still like to look at the clouds and find formations of pictures, no matter how way off other people may think they are. Today I seriously considered purchasing a colouring book from that book fair – the ultimate hobby of my younger years. As my close friends will be aware, I laugh at my own stupid jokes (that aren't necessarily all that hilarious), wear a bow in my hair and am currently using the same pink lunchbox ever since kindergarten… yes, the good old PINK lunchbox! It's served me well these past ten years. Having a seven year old brother has helped me maintain my love for childish movies like Madagascar, Robin Hood and 101 Dalmatians.
So, never say that he or she is JUST a kid.
Admire them for their pure smiles, the kind that has nothing to hide.
Admire them for the laughter that pours from their heart, not the kind that puts other people down.
Admire them for the weird clothes they wear, the kind that accentuates their bright soul.
Admire them for their dreams and their imagination, the kind they dream themselves, not the kind they have to impress anyone else but themselves.
Today I woke up with a sore ankle, and it being Thursday, aerobics day, I decided it best if I perhaps stayed home. I was, although, well enough to accompany my mum in taking my brother to school. The school was holding a special presentation, showcasing their best works, performances and dances. It is a relatively new school established only a few years ago. The eldest grade reaching only to the fifth; had only four boys in the whole class. Yet it failed to lack any less a sense of community like those of much larger schools. Its young pupils were active, possibly feeding of the energy of their enthusiastic teachers, or maybe it was the other way around. The stigma of that first day of school was ditched for the joys of being with other kids their age, learning and working towards the 'student of the week' promotion.
It had been years since my days at primary school that I had forgotten what it was like. Paper Mache humpty dumpty's hung from the ceiling like trophies. Pieces of work cascaded the walls like that of a doctor's office exhibiting his certificates of qualification.
But what dredged the most forgotten of memories was in looking at the children. There was...
Something beautiful about being so innocent.
Something beautiful about their eagerness to learn.
Something beautiful about wanting to purchase a book from the book fair.
Something beautiful about fitting into such tiny clothes.
Something beautiful about having a big heart for such a small person.
Something beautiful about having your four front teeth missing and still having the audacity to mingle with the boys.
Something beautiful about rushing to eat so you can have more play time.
Something beautiful about being so carefree.
I realised that these were qualities everyone, including myself, once possessed; but we lost bit by bit with everyday that we transitioned into high school. We don't want to do our homework because it's nerdy to get awards, uncool to get the top marks. We don't want to be caught dead reading a book assigned from our English teacher, let alone for our own personal pleasure because that's boring, stupid and a waste of time. We don't want to come across as overly nice because other people will take advantage of us, like make us do their homework, continually ask for food and money, or put us down to make themselves feel better about themselves because after all they're 'just joking and we know they love us'. We wear our insecurities on our sleeves, and wear down the spirit of our friends because we feel ugly, fat, or just not in the mood. We don't want to face the boys until we've fixed our hair, glossed our lips, lined our eyes, blushed our cheeks, straightened our hair, had our nails done, updated our bitchy attitude and lost 10 kilograms. What has become of us?
If that's all a compulsory part of growing up, I'd do anything to become a kid again. The most of my worries would extend to whom to play with when your best friend is away, sick with the chicken pox? These days, it's what will you be when you grow up, boyfriends will only - and ONLY distract you from your studies, begging for money to buy an outfit for the party this weekend and how to look like those models who flood the pages of magazines, contradicting their articles about being happy with yourself.
It's good to be a kid at heart. For a few minutes we're able to relive what it was like to have something beautiful. I still like to look at the clouds and find formations of pictures, no matter how way off other people may think they are. Today I seriously considered purchasing a colouring book from that book fair – the ultimate hobby of my younger years. As my close friends will be aware, I laugh at my own stupid jokes (that aren't necessarily all that hilarious), wear a bow in my hair and am currently using the same pink lunchbox ever since kindergarten… yes, the good old PINK lunchbox! It's served me well these past ten years. Having a seven year old brother has helped me maintain my love for childish movies like Madagascar, Robin Hood and 101 Dalmatians.
So, never say that he or she is JUST a kid.
Admire them for their pure smiles, the kind that has nothing to hide.
Admire them for the laughter that pours from their heart, not the kind that puts other people down.
Admire them for the weird clothes they wear, the kind that accentuates their bright soul.
Admire them for their dreams and their imagination, the kind they dream themselves, not the kind they have to impress anyone else but themselves.
Saturday 3 September 2005
I Hate Love
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armour, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid reason, no different from any other stupid reason, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and rips-you-apart-pain. I hate love. - Niel Gaiman (English born American author of The Sandman, b. 1960)
Wednesday 24 August 2005
It's the simple things in life we forget
I've decided to lay off blogging for a while until assignments have been submitted, oral rpesentations have been delivered and the trials have passed.
I was lying in bed at 1am in the morning, unable to get to sleep and being the weird compulsive thinker that I am, started reflecting about that feeling. You know, that feeling. I couldn't think of a term that quite described that; and the words queezy, umph, and errrgh didn't even come close. In fact, they're not real words at all. Magical yet exquisitely simple is the best my mind can describe it. They're the simple things in life we forget.
I'll write about them later on; but until my next entry, I'll leave you guys to do the contemplating.
that feeling...
* stacking it... hard
* breaking up
* knowing you can never have the guy/girl you secretly want
* getting out of the shower and it's freezing cold
* having rain drench your just blowdried or straightened hair
* regrets
* stuck in an awkwardly boring conversation, but don't have the guts to get going because you feel rude
* people who push in front of you
* coming to terms with how undeniably wrong you are after being so sure of youself
* being lost
* a stain on your white shirt at the beginning of the day
* annoying jingles that get stuck in your head
* not being able to fall asleep
* finding the tissue box empty just when you need one most
* your pen running out in the middle of an exam
* Mondays
* when you've eaten too much
* bad hair days
* being alone in the dark
* finding out someone bitched about you behind your back, but nice to your face
* seeing tragedies unfold on the TV screen and feeling so helpless
* forgetting what you were just about to say
* wishing you were five years old again, a bandaid had the power to fix anything
* knowing that things will NEVER be the same between you and her/him
that feeling...
* a new relationship
* knowing he likes you, and you like him - but are too afraid to admit it
* knowing all the words to a song - accurately
* a new outfit
* a NICE, new haircut
* new shoes
* hearing your favourite song on the radio
* getting off the phone with someone and wishing you could talk forever
* the smile of a stranger
* finding money on the floor
* a DAMN GOOD bra
* fitting into a size 6 when you're usually a size 8, or size 10 when you're usually a 12, etc..
* free stuff... you love it !
* a clearance sale (there's a little bit of cheap-ass in all of us ! )
* a cool breeze on a hot summers day
* a pretty sunset
* that butterfly feeling when you're in the arms of someone special
* compliments
* the sound autumn leaves make when you trod on them
* a good laugh
* using a BIG word in a sentence and sounding smart
* when people ask for YOUR advice
* solving that stupid maths question you've spent an hour trying to solve
* a good book
* when the 'popular person' knows your name (admit it ! )
* acing a test you barely studied for
* when you arrive at the bus stop seconds before it arrives, or arriving at the platform seconds before the train arrives
* looking back at old photos and wondering " WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING ?! "
I was lying in bed at 1am in the morning, unable to get to sleep and being the weird compulsive thinker that I am, started reflecting about that feeling. You know, that feeling. I couldn't think of a term that quite described that; and the words queezy, umph, and errrgh didn't even come close. In fact, they're not real words at all. Magical yet exquisitely simple is the best my mind can describe it. They're the simple things in life we forget.
I'll write about them later on; but until my next entry, I'll leave you guys to do the contemplating.
that feeling...
* stacking it... hard
* breaking up
* knowing you can never have the guy/girl you secretly want
* getting out of the shower and it's freezing cold
* having rain drench your just blowdried or straightened hair
* regrets
* stuck in an awkwardly boring conversation, but don't have the guts to get going because you feel rude
* people who push in front of you
* coming to terms with how undeniably wrong you are after being so sure of youself
* being lost
* a stain on your white shirt at the beginning of the day
* annoying jingles that get stuck in your head
* not being able to fall asleep
* finding the tissue box empty just when you need one most
* your pen running out in the middle of an exam
* Mondays
* when you've eaten too much
* bad hair days
* being alone in the dark
* finding out someone bitched about you behind your back, but nice to your face
* seeing tragedies unfold on the TV screen and feeling so helpless
* forgetting what you were just about to say
* wishing you were five years old again, a bandaid had the power to fix anything
* knowing that things will NEVER be the same between you and her/him
that feeling...
* a new relationship
* knowing he likes you, and you like him - but are too afraid to admit it
* knowing all the words to a song - accurately
* a new outfit
* a NICE, new haircut
* new shoes
* hearing your favourite song on the radio
* getting off the phone with someone and wishing you could talk forever
* the smile of a stranger
* finding money on the floor
* a DAMN GOOD bra
* fitting into a size 6 when you're usually a size 8, or size 10 when you're usually a 12, etc..
* free stuff... you love it !
* a clearance sale (there's a little bit of cheap-ass in all of us ! )
* a cool breeze on a hot summers day
* a pretty sunset
* that butterfly feeling when you're in the arms of someone special
* compliments
* the sound autumn leaves make when you trod on them
* a good laugh
* using a BIG word in a sentence and sounding smart
* when people ask for YOUR advice
* solving that stupid maths question you've spent an hour trying to solve
* a good book
* when the 'popular person' knows your name (admit it ! )
* acing a test you barely studied for
* when you arrive at the bus stop seconds before it arrives, or arriving at the platform seconds before the train arrives
* looking back at old photos and wondering " WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING ?! "
Thursday 18 August 2005
Looks VS Personality
Yin & Yang. You can't experience the good without knowing what they bad feels like. Without pain we would fail to completely comprehend the bliss of being glad; purely because we've got nothing to compare it against. If shades of 'happy' were the only the way our emotions functioned we wouldn't be as grateful.
It's like saying that everything will be okay when two hijacked planes collided into the twin towers. That everyone will come out safe and sound and tomorrow will carry on as usual. But it's not. The suffering of those unfortunate victims brought the public together. The act of salvaging the hurt under vast amounts of rubble required the will of those who were fortunate enough not to be inside those buildings or passengers of that plane. Why it takes such a tragedy to bring the rest of the world closer together, I don't know. I guess it's one of the first questions I'll ask God when I get there. But for the time being there's no use pondering the answer to a question that doesn't exist on earth. In my opinion, maybe the events of September 11 has taught the rest of the world to get our act together. Not to wait for a catastrophe before we lend a helping hand to a stranger. It's a shame that hundreds have to die before we listen.
I don't ignore the bad in the world. But that shouldn't be an excuse to exclude the good either. A handful of people may disagree with some, or perhaps everything I write in my blogs. But that goes without saying I'm not trying to please every reader either. It's the people who compliment my writing and beg for more that keep me bothered to write. I write for them. I'm not trying to brainwash anyone into believing the world is a squeaky clean haven or if you think like me you'll be a better person.
I'm not aiming at being unrealistic, but we can all dream can't we? Dream that there is a good looking someone out there with a bonus personality. Realistically speaking, some people marry for looks, some people marry for money, some people marry for the happiness of marrying a good looking rich person. Realistically speaking, looks and money only go so far. Realistically speaking, personality only goes so far as well.
Looks. If that's all it takes to make you happy, then go ahead, marry the guy! We'd rather you be happy with the good looking guy than miserable with the good hearted guy. And that's reality.
But I tend to write for one audience in particular. The people who go for someone with persona. Someone who'll argue back, someone who'll ask questions, someone who captivates us through with their insights alone.
You're only blessed with looks. In saying so I don't include plastic surgery. We don't have the luxury of opting to be good, average or bad looking when we're born. But to an extent, everyone has the personal willpower to eliminate bad attitudes and enhance the good.
No doubt, looks capture attention, but only a nice personality wins the heart and mind. You can't purchase finest quality packet's of 'personality' over the counter and apply combinations of traits on your face like make up every morning. A layer of humour to conceal any bad qualities lurking inside and some friendliness over the cheeks, topped off with some gloss finished morals for added shine. If only it was that easy. The soul is something worked upon, over years of living and experiences, overcoming them and using those mistakes to your advantage.
Nothing lasts forever. Everything fades with time. Looks more so than personality, but yes, they both deteriorate. But we're only around for a certain amount of time so we might as well make the most of it. Just like looks, everyone's personality is different. If looks are enough to keep you occupied in your lifetime, do yourself a favour and go for that sleek, well groomed stylish hunka-man . If personality is enough to keep you enthralled until you pass then go for the spiderman geek who no matter how hard you try can't seem to resist.
Ultimately, we're ALL just seeking satisfaction, and satisfaction comes in a multitude of shapes, sizes and colours. There's no exact definition and satisfaction varies with the person.
As I say: "Whatever crumbles YOUR cookie; because in the end YOU'RE the one who's going to end up eating it" Finely Ground or Super Chunky?
It's like saying that everything will be okay when two hijacked planes collided into the twin towers. That everyone will come out safe and sound and tomorrow will carry on as usual. But it's not. The suffering of those unfortunate victims brought the public together. The act of salvaging the hurt under vast amounts of rubble required the will of those who were fortunate enough not to be inside those buildings or passengers of that plane. Why it takes such a tragedy to bring the rest of the world closer together, I don't know. I guess it's one of the first questions I'll ask God when I get there. But for the time being there's no use pondering the answer to a question that doesn't exist on earth. In my opinion, maybe the events of September 11 has taught the rest of the world to get our act together. Not to wait for a catastrophe before we lend a helping hand to a stranger. It's a shame that hundreds have to die before we listen.
I don't ignore the bad in the world. But that shouldn't be an excuse to exclude the good either. A handful of people may disagree with some, or perhaps everything I write in my blogs. But that goes without saying I'm not trying to please every reader either. It's the people who compliment my writing and beg for more that keep me bothered to write. I write for them. I'm not trying to brainwash anyone into believing the world is a squeaky clean haven or if you think like me you'll be a better person.
I'm not aiming at being unrealistic, but we can all dream can't we? Dream that there is a good looking someone out there with a bonus personality. Realistically speaking, some people marry for looks, some people marry for money, some people marry for the happiness of marrying a good looking rich person. Realistically speaking, looks and money only go so far. Realistically speaking, personality only goes so far as well.
Looks. If that's all it takes to make you happy, then go ahead, marry the guy! We'd rather you be happy with the good looking guy than miserable with the good hearted guy. And that's reality.
But I tend to write for one audience in particular. The people who go for someone with persona. Someone who'll argue back, someone who'll ask questions, someone who captivates us through with their insights alone.
You're only blessed with looks. In saying so I don't include plastic surgery. We don't have the luxury of opting to be good, average or bad looking when we're born. But to an extent, everyone has the personal willpower to eliminate bad attitudes and enhance the good.
No doubt, looks capture attention, but only a nice personality wins the heart and mind. You can't purchase finest quality packet's of 'personality' over the counter and apply combinations of traits on your face like make up every morning. A layer of humour to conceal any bad qualities lurking inside and some friendliness over the cheeks, topped off with some gloss finished morals for added shine. If only it was that easy. The soul is something worked upon, over years of living and experiences, overcoming them and using those mistakes to your advantage.
Nothing lasts forever. Everything fades with time. Looks more so than personality, but yes, they both deteriorate. But we're only around for a certain amount of time so we might as well make the most of it. Just like looks, everyone's personality is different. If looks are enough to keep you occupied in your lifetime, do yourself a favour and go for that sleek, well groomed stylish hunka-man . If personality is enough to keep you enthralled until you pass then go for the spiderman geek who no matter how hard you try can't seem to resist.
Ultimately, we're ALL just seeking satisfaction, and satisfaction comes in a multitude of shapes, sizes and colours. There's no exact definition and satisfaction varies with the person.
As I say: "Whatever crumbles YOUR cookie; because in the end YOU'RE the one who's going to end up eating it" Finely Ground or Super Chunky?
Monday 15 August 2005
Road Trip
To all my friends: the next door neighbours, residents of far away lands, and even the folks across the seven seas - this goes out to you...
In some aspects, I know my best friends more so than they do themselves. I go through what they go through - emotionally. Our bond causes me to feel down when they're upset and over the moon when they're great.
I don't try to be interested, I don't pretend to care, I don't force myself into stealing a taste of their plateful of surging emotions; it's all habitual.
When they're in like/lust/love I sense in their tone, feel through their words and see through their smile - the joys of liking/lusting/loving someone. They're things I experience second hand, but are devoured together.
Likewise, when they're hearbroken we indulge ourselves into non-stop bitching sessions; like sharing a box of chocolates after a hard day. When they're hurt it's like I myself went through the same situation.
That's what friendship does to you. With a best friend, it's like living a double life. We learn from their mistakes, and they learn from ours. We give advice based upon, if given the chance, we were to wear their shoes the following day.
It's like having our petrol price halved as the two of us set for the commonly undertaken road trip to self discovery. Where we'll end up no one knows. We find we've got company. Someone to take over when we're losing sense of direction. Someone to shove reality in our faces when pondering the impossible, those misleading detours. Someone to state the obvious when our tendancy to think too hard causes us to scamper right past the signs. Someone whose conversation is music to our ears when the damn radio has broken down. They're our jumpstart when we're all and ready to surrender to the forces of dead ends. They nag us into chucking a U'ie (U-turn) and take an alternative route. At the end of the day, all is done together.
For some people modes of transportation for this trip is a fast, sophisticated two seated convertible, where two is company and three is a crowd. For others it's a steady paced double decker bus where more is definitely merrier.
We're all in the same race, or should I say, we're all driving on the same road; driven towards finding love, finding truth, finding ourselves, finding the meaning of life. Make the most of it.
In some aspects, I know my best friends more so than they do themselves. I go through what they go through - emotionally. Our bond causes me to feel down when they're upset and over the moon when they're great.
I don't try to be interested, I don't pretend to care, I don't force myself into stealing a taste of their plateful of surging emotions; it's all habitual.
When they're in like/lust/love I sense in their tone, feel through their words and see through their smile - the joys of liking/lusting/loving someone. They're things I experience second hand, but are devoured together.
Likewise, when they're hearbroken we indulge ourselves into non-stop bitching sessions; like sharing a box of chocolates after a hard day. When they're hurt it's like I myself went through the same situation.
That's what friendship does to you. With a best friend, it's like living a double life. We learn from their mistakes, and they learn from ours. We give advice based upon, if given the chance, we were to wear their shoes the following day.
It's like having our petrol price halved as the two of us set for the commonly undertaken road trip to self discovery. Where we'll end up no one knows. We find we've got company. Someone to take over when we're losing sense of direction. Someone to shove reality in our faces when pondering the impossible, those misleading detours. Someone to state the obvious when our tendancy to think too hard causes us to scamper right past the signs. Someone whose conversation is music to our ears when the damn radio has broken down. They're our jumpstart when we're all and ready to surrender to the forces of dead ends. They nag us into chucking a U'ie (U-turn) and take an alternative route. At the end of the day, all is done together.
For some people modes of transportation for this trip is a fast, sophisticated two seated convertible, where two is company and three is a crowd. For others it's a steady paced double decker bus where more is definitely merrier.
We're all in the same race, or should I say, we're all driving on the same road; driven towards finding love, finding truth, finding ourselves, finding the meaning of life. Make the most of it.
Sunday 7 August 2005
Spend Time, Not Money
SAME lies DIFFERENT guys. That's my love life compacted into one nifty little sentence.
The words are there alright, but they're said carelessly with a sense of detachment. We can feel it in you're voice. We can see it through your actions.
Don't say you only want to treat us right when you can't even find the time to call and check if we're okay. Don't say you only want to treat us right if you're all and willing for hugs and kisses, but when it comes to talking it's like our words go in one ear and out the other. Don't say you only want to treat us right if coming to see us feels like a tiresome trip to the moon and back, only made worthwhile if you've scored a trip downstairs. Don't say you only want to treat us right if we're objects to keep you occupied and help pass the time. Don't say you'll treat us better than the other guys when you speak the same words, and fail to prove it; just like the rest of them. But..
We're sorry if for the first time in our lives, someone genuine has come along. We're sorry if that person has to be you. We're sorry if your words fail to sink in because they're clouded with memories, the hurt of past lovers. We're sorry that you have to suffer, trying harder than all the rest to get to win our hearts.
It's not that we don't want to believe you, it's the fear of being made the fool once again. It's like continuously falling for the same practical joke. Eventually, the joke has been drained of the humour it once carried. Eventually, we're just plain sick of hearing it.
When we move on, we take our problems with us; not leave them behind.
It's up to that ONE guy to clear the mess the ones before him left behind. Of course, no one is forcing you to do it. It's a volunatary thing. It's rising to the challenge and distinguishing yourself worthy of her heart. Ultimately, if she means THAT much to you it wouldn't be an issue.
It takes time, not expensive gifts, not hollow phrases. She may not know what she wants, but she knows what she doesn't want. Surprise her. Spend TIME, not money. The BEST things in life are FREE.
If I Were You - Tamia
I look in the mirror, with you in my arms
And I see a reflection
Of a smile that says you believe in love
And just for a moment, I drifted away
But I couldn't stay coz
A hint of love, a bit of fear
I'm tryin' to say
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
If I were you I would stay right where you are
I wouldn't come near this broken heart
Just turn around and leave here
And find someone who won't hurt you
Make sure that she still believes in love
Coz I think my heart has given up
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
I'm tryin' to protect you
From the lies that your heart tells
Even though it says that you love me
All I see is pain and misery
Seasons may change
But I can't forget the days of old
My heart ached when you walked away
I said I'd never love again
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
If I were you I would stay right where you are
I wouldn't come near this broken heart
Just turn around and leave here
And find someone who won't hurt you
Make sure that she still believes in love
Coz I think my heart has given up
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
The days go by
And I feel that you could make me happy
Time goes on
And I feel that love is at my door
And though I tell myself that you're the one
Who said those words before
Thought it hurts too much
I can't trust in love
Again
The words are there alright, but they're said carelessly with a sense of detachment. We can feel it in you're voice. We can see it through your actions.
Don't say you only want to treat us right when you can't even find the time to call and check if we're okay. Don't say you only want to treat us right if you're all and willing for hugs and kisses, but when it comes to talking it's like our words go in one ear and out the other. Don't say you only want to treat us right if coming to see us feels like a tiresome trip to the moon and back, only made worthwhile if you've scored a trip downstairs. Don't say you only want to treat us right if we're objects to keep you occupied and help pass the time. Don't say you'll treat us better than the other guys when you speak the same words, and fail to prove it; just like the rest of them. But..
We're sorry if for the first time in our lives, someone genuine has come along. We're sorry if that person has to be you. We're sorry if your words fail to sink in because they're clouded with memories, the hurt of past lovers. We're sorry that you have to suffer, trying harder than all the rest to get to win our hearts.
It's not that we don't want to believe you, it's the fear of being made the fool once again. It's like continuously falling for the same practical joke. Eventually, the joke has been drained of the humour it once carried. Eventually, we're just plain sick of hearing it.
When we move on, we take our problems with us; not leave them behind.
It's up to that ONE guy to clear the mess the ones before him left behind. Of course, no one is forcing you to do it. It's a volunatary thing. It's rising to the challenge and distinguishing yourself worthy of her heart. Ultimately, if she means THAT much to you it wouldn't be an issue.
It takes time, not expensive gifts, not hollow phrases. She may not know what she wants, but she knows what she doesn't want. Surprise her. Spend TIME, not money. The BEST things in life are FREE.
If I Were You - Tamia
I look in the mirror, with you in my arms
And I see a reflection
Of a smile that says you believe in love
And just for a moment, I drifted away
But I couldn't stay coz
A hint of love, a bit of fear
I'm tryin' to say
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
If I were you I would stay right where you are
I wouldn't come near this broken heart
Just turn around and leave here
And find someone who won't hurt you
Make sure that she still believes in love
Coz I think my heart has given up
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
I'm tryin' to protect you
From the lies that your heart tells
Even though it says that you love me
All I see is pain and misery
Seasons may change
But I can't forget the days of old
My heart ached when you walked away
I said I'd never love again
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
If I were you I would stay right where you are
I wouldn't come near this broken heart
Just turn around and leave here
And find someone who won't hurt you
Make sure that she still believes in love
Coz I think my heart has given up
If I were you, I wouldn't be here
The days go by
And I feel that you could make me happy
Time goes on
And I feel that love is at my door
And though I tell myself that you're the one
Who said those words before
Thought it hurts too much
I can't trust in love
Again
Friday 29 July 2005
1-2-3-Happily-Ever-After
You can learn a lot about a man simply by looking at the woman he is with. If his partner is a genuine woman who carries her dignity with as much ease as she does self respect - he is a gentleman who shudders at the idea of wasting time with a skank who has been around the world; and by that I mean population wise. If he is dating a materialistic, superficial, moral- free girl whose colloquial language is obscene - in his eyes she's just another a fashion accessory; and with all fashion trends its only time until the next one comes along. These type of men go for girls with 'SEX' stamped across their forehead. Why? Because in the duration of time it takes to make a good girl fall for them, they could have slept with ten other whores. It provides some sort of compensation for the absence of that ONE GIRL who, suprisingly, would actually like you for who you are. NOT because of your dick, your presents, your car or your money.
Time. A simple concept, yes? There's seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and so on. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. And like all icebergs 90% of this theory lies buried beneath the surface. Imagine spending this time with someone who made it worth living. Imagine if their absence made your heart grow fonder. These empty hopes have the potential of a becoming tangible reality if we'd only take the time. The time to grow to know someone so much to the point that their yours, and the patience of knowing that there's a reason to why this process isn't called 1-2-3-HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER. It's trials and tribulations, deep conversations and petty arguments.
It's not always rainbows and butterflies its compromise - Maroon5
Unfortunately there's some people out there who have found themselves caught in the crushing tides of a fast moving current that makes the world go round. We'd rather settle for the instant 3 minute girlfriend than wait a while longer for a decent one.
Being in a relationship with someone and NOT realising their worth is like visiting The Seven Wonders of the World with your eyes closed. Unaware of the beauty that lives just for you.
Time. A simple concept, yes? There's seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and so on. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. And like all icebergs 90% of this theory lies buried beneath the surface. Imagine spending this time with someone who made it worth living. Imagine if their absence made your heart grow fonder. These empty hopes have the potential of a becoming tangible reality if we'd only take the time. The time to grow to know someone so much to the point that their yours, and the patience of knowing that there's a reason to why this process isn't called 1-2-3-HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER. It's trials and tribulations, deep conversations and petty arguments.
It's not always rainbows and butterflies its compromise - Maroon5
Unfortunately there's some people out there who have found themselves caught in the crushing tides of a fast moving current that makes the world go round. We'd rather settle for the instant 3 minute girlfriend than wait a while longer for a decent one.
Being in a relationship with someone and NOT realising their worth is like visiting The Seven Wonders of the World with your eyes closed. Unaware of the beauty that lives just for you.
Friday 22 July 2005
WANT is to LIKE as NEED is to LOVE
Relationships begin nonetheless the same - you fall for each other; it's the endings that vary. If love is a book, I've barely past the first chapter. And when I'm almost done, the book closes, and I find myself starting all over again... and again... and again...
I'd like to take this moment to express my hate for winter. Thankyou for making me fully sick bro.
To Kill a Mockingbird. Two words - literal enlightenment.
The song that's really tickling my fancy like a raging sex machine: LapDance by N.E.R.D.
Thanks to Christine (or as I like to call her: Een-Steen) who got my mind thinking. The grass is always greener on the other side; but it's just as hard to cut. The seaweed is always greener in somebody elses lake. Life is always better in somebody elses skin; or so it seems.
Our tendancy of being envious of one other is constant. It's as if the 'envy button' was turned on at birth and doesn't switch off till the day we die. And in those few seconds before our death do we become suddenly appreciative of everything that's passed.
We're so busy wishing for their happiness, their fortune, their confidence... their life, that we fail to count our own blessings. So what if she's pretty, smart, witty and goes about the day in high spirits? Who's to say she doesn't come from a broken family torn down by adultery and financial strife? Who's to say she doesn't cry herself to sleep wishing she was never born.
We never know a person until we've magically stepped into their shoes and walked in them for the duration that they've lived. This, of course is sheerly impossible. The most we can do is learn to accept each other, and know that there is ALWAYS more than meets the eye. We must understand that all our actions stem from a past experience. A past experience that influences our future decisions for the rest of our life.
Why is he so willingly open in relationships, so passionate about things from A to Z, so fearless in taking risks, so down to earth? Because experience has taught him that life is short and to cherish every passing moment. Why is she so reserved, so cautious, so cold and barely unapproachable? Because a particular incident or series of misfortunes have left her scared of trusting others, scared of loving someone, scared of the unfamiliar. Why does he care so much for materialistic things? Because during his childhood years he was bullied endlessly for being less fortunate than those who mocked him. Why does she strive to become successful? Because she watched someone she looked up to reduce to nothing. Why is she against drugs? Because the drugs caused her father to become a man she no longer knew.
I'd like to take this moment to express my hate for winter. Thankyou for making me fully sick bro.
To Kill a Mockingbird. Two words - literal enlightenment.
The song that's really tickling my fancy like a raging sex machine: LapDance by N.E.R.D.
Thanks to Christine (or as I like to call her: Een-Steen) who got my mind thinking. The grass is always greener on the other side; but it's just as hard to cut. The seaweed is always greener in somebody elses lake. Life is always better in somebody elses skin; or so it seems.
Our tendancy of being envious of one other is constant. It's as if the 'envy button' was turned on at birth and doesn't switch off till the day we die. And in those few seconds before our death do we become suddenly appreciative of everything that's passed.
We're so busy wishing for their happiness, their fortune, their confidence... their life, that we fail to count our own blessings. So what if she's pretty, smart, witty and goes about the day in high spirits? Who's to say she doesn't come from a broken family torn down by adultery and financial strife? Who's to say she doesn't cry herself to sleep wishing she was never born.
We never know a person until we've magically stepped into their shoes and walked in them for the duration that they've lived. This, of course is sheerly impossible. The most we can do is learn to accept each other, and know that there is ALWAYS more than meets the eye. We must understand that all our actions stem from a past experience. A past experience that influences our future decisions for the rest of our life.
Why is he so willingly open in relationships, so passionate about things from A to Z, so fearless in taking risks, so down to earth? Because experience has taught him that life is short and to cherish every passing moment. Why is she so reserved, so cautious, so cold and barely unapproachable? Because a particular incident or series of misfortunes have left her scared of trusting others, scared of loving someone, scared of the unfamiliar. Why does he care so much for materialistic things? Because during his childhood years he was bullied endlessly for being less fortunate than those who mocked him. Why does she strive to become successful? Because she watched someone she looked up to reduce to nothing. Why is she against drugs? Because the drugs caused her father to become a man she no longer knew.
Thursday 14 July 2005
Find someone who understands every word you're NOT saying
Don't go for looks; such an asset fades with time.
Find someone whose personality gets more and more beautiful by the day. Someone amazing. Someone who makes you laugh. Someone who brings a smile to your face. Someone who appreciates you; and understands every word you're NOT saying.
Communication is sensing the sadness in their laugh when something is wrong. It's being able to decipher the unspoken code of body language.
When you find that person cherish every moment with them. Hold them tight and you won't have to worry about letting go; they'll never want to leave.
God put a few bad people in our life so when the right person came along we'd be greatful. The end of one relationship opens the door to better alternate endings with someone else.
Love is a two seated roller coaster. Together, brace yourselves past the downs and enjoy the ups. You can't have one without the other. The best experiences are those towards the end so ride it through.
Take the time to know each other. Take it slow. Safe Speeding - There's No Such Thing. Read every sign. Ask about the ones you're unsure of; remember them. Only then have you driven each other crazy. Crazy In Love.
Since when did it become such a crucial necessity to fall in love? It's been planted deep into our ethics as the only means of a truly wholesome life. I suppose it's something that will never cease to astound me.
Then why is it that an affair bearing such significance, does not have emphasis placed upon it in school teachings? We're there five days a week. They teach us everything from manners to metaphors, from quadric trinomials to periodic tables, from the anatomy of the human body to World War II; everything under the sun except advice and teachings on how to survive out in a world full of dickheads and pricks. After our years of schooling and academic commotion, we're released out into the world with little knowledge of the opposite sex. We're left to fend for ourselves. The subject of love is taught through practical methods, and little theory. It's through this self teaching that we learn some of the most important lessons in life.
We learn to accept that no one is perfect. We learn that pain is synonymous with love. We learn the true meaning of 'actions speak louder than words'. It's one thing to say I love you; and its another thing when you can't find the time to show it. We put an end to our childish selfishness MINE! MINE! MINE!and suddenly need someone to share everything with. Everything means Nothing unless you have someone to share it with. You're road to the top won't mean as much unless you had someone with you every step of the way.
I've been single for a few days now. Fish in the sea here I come! *bellyflops into the water* Lately I've just been 'letting it burn'. My friends wonder how I do it. Why I'm not breaking down at the first sign of reminisent things. How I manage to.. be normal. That's just me. I won't cry myself every night for weeks on end. I won't refuse the nutritional value (not to mention the yummy goodness) of food. I won't deprive myself of sleep. I won't give my friends attitude over my own personal misaps. It's not part of my character to linger in things that no longer exist. I was fine before he came along, and I'll (still) be fine when he's gone.
This is majorly corny, but I still remember how he told me that what attracted him to me was how independent I was. The fact that he's now gone won't change that. People, don't ever change for somebody else; If ever, do it for yourself. Find someone who accepts you as you are.
I don't hate any of my ex's. That's not my style either. I thank them for making my days just that LITTLE BIT more worth living for, during the length of our relationship. I'm thankful for what they've taught me. No regrets.
We were the story of a potential businessman attending work and uni trying to make it work with a stubbourn grade 10 girly girl. At least we tried. It doesn't make him a bad person that he wants to concentrate on family, friends, and his career before myself. We broke down at one of the first signs of uncertainty. The bond we created in the beginning obviously wasn't strong enough to withstand the forces of 'growing up'.
Some couples can grow up together; from teenagers to that old elderly couple that sit on the front porch. Some couples need to be grow apart before they can be together; to learn and achieve things for themselves independently. Some couples just weren't meant to be; and that's okay too.
Find someone whose personality gets more and more beautiful by the day. Someone amazing. Someone who makes you laugh. Someone who brings a smile to your face. Someone who appreciates you; and understands every word you're NOT saying.
Communication is sensing the sadness in their laugh when something is wrong. It's being able to decipher the unspoken code of body language.
When you find that person cherish every moment with them. Hold them tight and you won't have to worry about letting go; they'll never want to leave.
God put a few bad people in our life so when the right person came along we'd be greatful. The end of one relationship opens the door to better alternate endings with someone else.
Love is a two seated roller coaster. Together, brace yourselves past the downs and enjoy the ups. You can't have one without the other. The best experiences are those towards the end so ride it through.
Take the time to know each other. Take it slow. Safe Speeding - There's No Such Thing. Read every sign. Ask about the ones you're unsure of; remember them. Only then have you driven each other crazy. Crazy In Love.
It's one thing to ask why we break up. Have you ever wondered why it is we fall in love? - Amiel
Since when did it become such a crucial necessity to fall in love? It's been planted deep into our ethics as the only means of a truly wholesome life. I suppose it's something that will never cease to astound me.
Then why is it that an affair bearing such significance, does not have emphasis placed upon it in school teachings? We're there five days a week. They teach us everything from manners to metaphors, from quadric trinomials to periodic tables, from the anatomy of the human body to World War II; everything under the sun except advice and teachings on how to survive out in a world full of dickheads and pricks. After our years of schooling and academic commotion, we're released out into the world with little knowledge of the opposite sex. We're left to fend for ourselves. The subject of love is taught through practical methods, and little theory. It's through this self teaching that we learn some of the most important lessons in life.
We learn to accept that no one is perfect. We learn that pain is synonymous with love. We learn the true meaning of 'actions speak louder than words'. It's one thing to say I love you; and its another thing when you can't find the time to show it. We put an end to our childish selfishness MINE! MINE! MINE!and suddenly need someone to share everything with. Everything means Nothing unless you have someone to share it with. You're road to the top won't mean as much unless you had someone with you every step of the way.
I've been single for a few days now. Fish in the sea here I come! *bellyflops into the water* Lately I've just been 'letting it burn'. My friends wonder how I do it. Why I'm not breaking down at the first sign of reminisent things. How I manage to.. be normal. That's just me. I won't cry myself every night for weeks on end. I won't refuse the nutritional value (not to mention the yummy goodness) of food. I won't deprive myself of sleep. I won't give my friends attitude over my own personal misaps. It's not part of my character to linger in things that no longer exist. I was fine before he came along, and I'll (still) be fine when he's gone.
This is majorly corny, but I still remember how he told me that what attracted him to me was how independent I was. The fact that he's now gone won't change that. People, don't ever change for somebody else; If ever, do it for yourself. Find someone who accepts you as you are.
I don't hate any of my ex's. That's not my style either. I thank them for making my days just that LITTLE BIT more worth living for, during the length of our relationship. I'm thankful for what they've taught me. No regrets.
We were the story of a potential businessman attending work and uni trying to make it work with a stubbourn grade 10 girly girl. At least we tried. It doesn't make him a bad person that he wants to concentrate on family, friends, and his career before myself. We broke down at one of the first signs of uncertainty. The bond we created in the beginning obviously wasn't strong enough to withstand the forces of 'growing up'.
Some couples can grow up together; from teenagers to that old elderly couple that sit on the front porch. Some couples need to be grow apart before they can be together; to learn and achieve things for themselves independently. Some couples just weren't meant to be; and that's okay too.
Sunday 10 July 2005
Winter Blues
The winter has really begun to take its toll on me. I've become even hungrier and lazier than ever. These holidays have been the best to date..
Blazin was.. let's just say.. aye-oh-kay. The atmosphere was SMOKIN' , literally. The music was below standard of what I expected. Bumped into old friends, which is always a highlight. Andrea, Tina and I felt like we stepped into Asianville. We left about an hour early, and had we stayed any longer, we'd have adapted to the environment and have come out with long V-cut hair, wearing a halter neck top and short shorts; just like the other one hundred-or-so girls that were there.
Yesterday, I went to Parramatta and met up with friends. Assisted the boys with shopping, the poor souls were so inexperienced. In all fairness, Robert taught me a thing or two about driving cars through some game in some car racing . Which ones the accelerator? What's this one do? Crazy women drivers. I admit probably adding to this population.
Met up with Jeremy, where we argued upon comparisons between the superiority of Blacktown and Liverpool. My apologies that Liverpool Westfields does not comprise of cushion seating. Groove was madness. Saw so many people I hadn't seen in yonkers. Hugs and Kisses galore. It was a kickass night.
What's Changed? - Craig David
Thought you always wanted to be with me...
But things have changed between me and you...
Why don't you call me no more?
It was every night you were calling me before
Given half a chance, you'd be knocking at my door
So, tell me what's changed
Why don't you give me some time
Tell me, coz I can't get you out of my mind
But up until now, we been doing just fine
So, tell me what's changed
Why can't you even pass by?
Spend some of your time, even just to say hi
You're not the type of guy who would make a girl cry
So, tell me what's changed
Blazin was.. let's just say.. aye-oh-kay. The atmosphere was SMOKIN' , literally. The music was below standard of what I expected. Bumped into old friends, which is always a highlight. Andrea, Tina and I felt like we stepped into Asianville. We left about an hour early, and had we stayed any longer, we'd have adapted to the environment and have come out with long V-cut hair, wearing a halter neck top and short shorts; just like the other one hundred-or-so girls that were there.
Yesterday, I went to Parramatta and met up with friends. Assisted the boys with shopping, the poor souls were so inexperienced. In all fairness, Robert taught me a thing or two about driving cars through some game in some car racing . Which ones the accelerator? What's this one do? Crazy women drivers. I admit probably adding to this population.
Met up with Jeremy, where we argued upon comparisons between the superiority of Blacktown and Liverpool. My apologies that Liverpool Westfields does not comprise of cushion seating. Groove was madness. Saw so many people I hadn't seen in yonkers. Hugs and Kisses galore. It was a kickass night.
What's Changed? - Craig David
Thought you always wanted to be with me...
But things have changed between me and you...
Why don't you call me no more?
It was every night you were calling me before
Given half a chance, you'd be knocking at my door
So, tell me what's changed
Why don't you give me some time
Tell me, coz I can't get you out of my mind
But up until now, we been doing just fine
So, tell me what's changed
Why can't you even pass by?
Spend some of your time, even just to say hi
You're not the type of guy who would make a girl cry
So, tell me what's changed
Wednesday 6 July 2005
The Truth About Rollercoasters
I'm tired of getting to know someone, and losing them. I've been through the 'Get To Know You' rollercoaster so many times, and yes it's fun and exciting, but I feel like my ride always ends at the top of the big drop off. All that energy build up and anticipation - for nothing. I've never felt what it's like to fall down the other end of the slope - what it's like to fall in love.
Sometimes I think I'm the one with the problem. I feel like a highly anticipated film that movie-holics would define as a Box-office Fluke. I'm all controversey, nothing more. The previews prior to the movie say I'm "different, amazing and not like other girls". Ironic how I end up the same as the others - another ex-girlfriend.
I have the notion I'm forever doomed in relationships. I'm constantly waiting around for the guy to let me down. And when it does happen, I had only further proved myself right of my theory. But don't mistake me, I'm all open for someone to prove me wrong.
Sometimes I think I'm the one with the problem. I feel like a highly anticipated film that movie-holics would define as a Box-office Fluke. I'm all controversey, nothing more. The previews prior to the movie say I'm "different, amazing and not like other girls". Ironic how I end up the same as the others - another ex-girlfriend.
I have the notion I'm forever doomed in relationships. I'm constantly waiting around for the guy to let me down. And when it does happen, I had only further proved myself right of my theory. But don't mistake me, I'm all open for someone to prove me wrong.
Tuesday 5 July 2005
Holidaze
Here goes my first stereotypical blog.. what's been and gone recently in the boring life of Noeline Bautista. For those of you bothered to read it.. enjoy!
It's the holidays, I've got three assignments and over the past four days, have procrastinated over each of them. Perhaps I will get started in the second week. For the remainder of the first week, I shall sit back and relax.. try anyway.
Last friday, I met up with the oh so sexy Lorabel & friends at Parramatta Westfields. We took a dream photo at that photo place located near the station. Someone stole Kay'es pink wallet, which contained $30. Poor thing. The photo turned out real ugly, our eyes were demented and our lips looked like they were bleeding. Unwilling to pay for a disgusting dream photo, we decided not to go ahead with it and walked around the shops instead. Lorabel and I were attracted to the music being played in the stores. We walked in and out of one store in particular about three times, danced, then walking out. The lady looked at us weird. Bumped into the super-resh Richard.
The weekend was spent working at Hungry Jack's. We were all booked out with kid's parties, and as usual, I was hosting them. Shereeza and Jordan dropped by. How embarassing! The mad thing about doing parties is I get paid to take orders, play games, paint faces, and eat cake. The children are a bonus. I love them. They're so innocent and eager to learn more. You can tell by their eyes they've witnessed few things in their little lifetime; you wish you could shield them from the immporality imbedded in the world. But, its an inevitable part of life. The only thing that separates us, is the extent that we allow evil to influence our lives.
Yesterday, Wendy and I went to Cabrammatta to get kickass haircuts. I got my hair more layered and my fringe cut. Wendy said I looked like Cleopatra. Afterwards, we went to the city and took capitols. Went to Galaxy World and watched Wendy play some scary game. Some guy from Penrith came up to us and asked if we were from around the area. Did we look that out of place?
Tonight, my 'sister' Andrea and I are going out. We are each others Random Outing Buddy. One phone call, and within an hour we find ourselves in a world away from home. Tina's coming too. Where we shall be tonight, is anyone's guess. Either Blazin or Holla. I guess we'll decide when we get to the train station. I'm excited.
People, as well as myself are still getting used to the fact I have braces. Yes, braces are a bitch.
It's the holidays, I've got three assignments and over the past four days, have procrastinated over each of them. Perhaps I will get started in the second week. For the remainder of the first week, I shall sit back and relax.. try anyway.
Last friday, I met up with the oh so sexy Lorabel & friends at Parramatta Westfields. We took a dream photo at that photo place located near the station. Someone stole Kay'es pink wallet, which contained $30. Poor thing. The photo turned out real ugly, our eyes were demented and our lips looked like they were bleeding. Unwilling to pay for a disgusting dream photo, we decided not to go ahead with it and walked around the shops instead. Lorabel and I were attracted to the music being played in the stores. We walked in and out of one store in particular about three times, danced, then walking out. The lady looked at us weird. Bumped into the super-resh Richard.
The weekend was spent working at Hungry Jack's. We were all booked out with kid's parties, and as usual, I was hosting them. Shereeza and Jordan dropped by. How embarassing! The mad thing about doing parties is I get paid to take orders, play games, paint faces, and eat cake. The children are a bonus. I love them. They're so innocent and eager to learn more. You can tell by their eyes they've witnessed few things in their little lifetime; you wish you could shield them from the immporality imbedded in the world. But, its an inevitable part of life. The only thing that separates us, is the extent that we allow evil to influence our lives.
Yesterday, Wendy and I went to Cabrammatta to get kickass haircuts. I got my hair more layered and my fringe cut. Wendy said I looked like Cleopatra. Afterwards, we went to the city and took capitols. Went to Galaxy World and watched Wendy play some scary game. Some guy from Penrith came up to us and asked if we were from around the area. Did we look that out of place?
Tonight, my 'sister' Andrea and I are going out. We are each others Random Outing Buddy. One phone call, and within an hour we find ourselves in a world away from home. Tina's coming too. Where we shall be tonight, is anyone's guess. Either Blazin or Holla. I guess we'll decide when we get to the train station. I'm excited.
People, as well as myself are still getting used to the fact I have braces. Yes, braces are a bitch.
Saturday 2 July 2005
Miss UNDERstood
I stepped into the 'world of blogging' on the wrong foot. So, here's a little bit about me. Perhaps it can provide an insight as to why I think the way I do.
I'm a perfectionist. At the same time it's my strength AND my weakness. It can prove benefitial in some situations, and outrageously inconvenient in others. But heck, that's just me. Complete neat freak.
The unfortunate thing about first impressions is that you only get to make one. I've had long term friends confess to me what their first impressions of me were. Surprisingly, they've been either astoundingly wacky or almost accurate. People first saw me as an air headed bimbo, snobby and whose attire was.. skanky. Peers from school percived me as a live-at-home nerd, quiet, studious goody goody and a teacher's pet; thankafully that stereotype gradually wore off as the years went on. It's funny to be told that quite a number of my friends saw me as that chick with the mad hairstyles; back in the days of year 7 when we were all too scared to get to know each other. Now, we're inseperable. Who taght you how to fishtail braid now b*tchez! I couldn't imagine life without my friends. I live off our deep conversations and the laughs we share.
At this point in time, I don't know who I am, I don't know what I want.. and im cool with that. It's taken me a while but im comfortable with who I am, inside and out; most of the time anyway. Sometimes I'm that nerd who would rather sit and read a book than perve on the boys walking past the classroom door, and sometimes I do have my bimbo moments like inquiring if fish was a dairy product, and sometimes I get an A on an advanced science paper. And for the record, believe it or not, I'm NOT snobby, I'm just shy!
After a discussion with (my friend) Frances, we established that everyone has their ugly days. No matter how hard we try to do our hair nicely, no matter how much effort we put into our make up, no matter how many layers of lip gloss we apply, no matter how labelled the outfit, the only realistic explanation left is that that day in particular was simply an Uglyday. Monday. Tuesday. Uglyday. Thursday. Friday.. they strike when you least expect it. They suck ass.
My passion for reading has been an on and off love affair. It has been at its peak when I was seven years old, and now. During the years in between, the only reading I did was that on road signs like STOP, WRONG WAY GO BACK and CONSTRUCTION AHEAD. I love reading. It's one of those things I'll love until the day I die. Through writing, I can be myself. I can be the me that no one else has met, and the me that no one else will ever know. Not everything I write is shared with the world. You are not resticted by the opinions of anyone else. Writing is my key to freedom. You can be as stuck up or insecure to your satisfaction. My blogs are just an insight to my opinions. If I happen to say I'm ugly, is not a plead for hundreds of people to comment that I am beautiful. If I happen to say I'm a sexy mutha fukka is not a call for girls to bitch about me being big headed. If I happen to say that my life aint all that good, is not a begging gesture for friends to suddenly treat me like a child crying over spilt milk. It's simply the random and not-so-random thoughts loitering through my head taking their form in structured sentences.
Art is good. The feeling of creating something amazing, unusual, beautifully simple or intricately detailed with the aide of paper, pencil and your imagination is unexplainable. Like writing, it is another form of expression, in a visual form. Nobody else has to understand it. You can capture a moment in a time frame that seems never ending, or create a moment that exists in your mind alone. Like handwriting, its a personal matter, no two people have the exact same style.
Boyfriends come and go but best friends are forever. I love my friends. The ones who have been and gone, and the ones who are still here. Sometimes I think you guys are the only thing that keeps me going. When im with you, I'm that little bit happier, even if just for a while. You can't choose family, but you can choose your friends. I feel truly blessed to have companions like you. Many, many, many thanks for your adivce, your patience, your time, and simply stating the obvious at times when I was way out of it.
I am the eldest child in a family of three children; the eldest of four children if you include my half brother Justin and half sister Keizha, the eldest of seven children if you include my step brother James and step sister Hannah. Being the eldest has its drawbacks. My younger siblings may be unaware now, but as they age will understand I was the one who had to break past all those barriers, barriers which have already been opened for them to breeze through when it comes to their turn. I establish what is a reasonable age to start dating, the reasonable amount of outings out with friends, the reasonable age to catch public transport independently, the reasonable time to stay up late on the phone, the resonable EVERYTHING. Being the eldest, everything is an experiment. If it turns out fucked my time round, it definitely will not be the case in theirs.
Studies have shown that children, as a product of a broken family, are less willing to trust and expectations in relationships are of vividly lower standards than those coming from a well-knit family. That's me to a T. As a result, the separation of my parents will always, involuntarily, influence every single decision and action I make. As cynical as I may sound, I have little faith in men. My relationship with my father hasn't been ideal. Just because he contributed 50% of my biological make-up does not come with a lifetime warranty of respect. Yes, we still talk, but things just aren't the same. I have the best relationship with my mum. I tell her almost everything. Sometimes she's the first person I tell about anything and everything. I only wish to become half the woman she is. She's my hero.
My name is Noeline Veronica Bautista. I am a self confessed chocaholic. Shopping is good too, as long as it's not my money I'm spending. I can't live without lipgloss. Overly independent. Content, most of the time. Misunderstood.
I'm a perfectionist. At the same time it's my strength AND my weakness. It can prove benefitial in some situations, and outrageously inconvenient in others. But heck, that's just me. Complete neat freak.
The unfortunate thing about first impressions is that you only get to make one. I've had long term friends confess to me what their first impressions of me were. Surprisingly, they've been either astoundingly wacky or almost accurate. People first saw me as an air headed bimbo, snobby and whose attire was.. skanky. Peers from school percived me as a live-at-home nerd, quiet, studious goody goody and a teacher's pet; thankafully that stereotype gradually wore off as the years went on. It's funny to be told that quite a number of my friends saw me as that chick with the mad hairstyles; back in the days of year 7 when we were all too scared to get to know each other. Now, we're inseperable. Who taght you how to fishtail braid now b*tchez! I couldn't imagine life without my friends. I live off our deep conversations and the laughs we share.
At this point in time, I don't know who I am, I don't know what I want.. and im cool with that. It's taken me a while but im comfortable with who I am, inside and out; most of the time anyway. Sometimes I'm that nerd who would rather sit and read a book than perve on the boys walking past the classroom door, and sometimes I do have my bimbo moments like inquiring if fish was a dairy product, and sometimes I get an A on an advanced science paper. And for the record, believe it or not, I'm NOT snobby, I'm just shy!
After a discussion with (my friend) Frances, we established that everyone has their ugly days. No matter how hard we try to do our hair nicely, no matter how much effort we put into our make up, no matter how many layers of lip gloss we apply, no matter how labelled the outfit, the only realistic explanation left is that that day in particular was simply an Uglyday. Monday. Tuesday. Uglyday. Thursday. Friday.. they strike when you least expect it. They suck ass.
My passion for reading has been an on and off love affair. It has been at its peak when I was seven years old, and now. During the years in between, the only reading I did was that on road signs like STOP, WRONG WAY GO BACK and CONSTRUCTION AHEAD. I love reading. It's one of those things I'll love until the day I die. Through writing, I can be myself. I can be the me that no one else has met, and the me that no one else will ever know. Not everything I write is shared with the world. You are not resticted by the opinions of anyone else. Writing is my key to freedom. You can be as stuck up or insecure to your satisfaction. My blogs are just an insight to my opinions. If I happen to say I'm ugly, is not a plead for hundreds of people to comment that I am beautiful. If I happen to say I'm a sexy mutha fukka is not a call for girls to bitch about me being big headed. If I happen to say that my life aint all that good, is not a begging gesture for friends to suddenly treat me like a child crying over spilt milk. It's simply the random and not-so-random thoughts loitering through my head taking their form in structured sentences.
Art is good. The feeling of creating something amazing, unusual, beautifully simple or intricately detailed with the aide of paper, pencil and your imagination is unexplainable. Like writing, it is another form of expression, in a visual form. Nobody else has to understand it. You can capture a moment in a time frame that seems never ending, or create a moment that exists in your mind alone. Like handwriting, its a personal matter, no two people have the exact same style.
Boyfriends come and go but best friends are forever. I love my friends. The ones who have been and gone, and the ones who are still here. Sometimes I think you guys are the only thing that keeps me going. When im with you, I'm that little bit happier, even if just for a while. You can't choose family, but you can choose your friends. I feel truly blessed to have companions like you. Many, many, many thanks for your adivce, your patience, your time, and simply stating the obvious at times when I was way out of it.
I am the eldest child in a family of three children; the eldest of four children if you include my half brother Justin and half sister Keizha, the eldest of seven children if you include my step brother James and step sister Hannah. Being the eldest has its drawbacks. My younger siblings may be unaware now, but as they age will understand I was the one who had to break past all those barriers, barriers which have already been opened for them to breeze through when it comes to their turn. I establish what is a reasonable age to start dating, the reasonable amount of outings out with friends, the reasonable age to catch public transport independently, the reasonable time to stay up late on the phone, the resonable EVERYTHING. Being the eldest, everything is an experiment. If it turns out fucked my time round, it definitely will not be the case in theirs.
Studies have shown that children, as a product of a broken family, are less willing to trust and expectations in relationships are of vividly lower standards than those coming from a well-knit family. That's me to a T. As a result, the separation of my parents will always, involuntarily, influence every single decision and action I make. As cynical as I may sound, I have little faith in men. My relationship with my father hasn't been ideal. Just because he contributed 50% of my biological make-up does not come with a lifetime warranty of respect. Yes, we still talk, but things just aren't the same. I have the best relationship with my mum. I tell her almost everything. Sometimes she's the first person I tell about anything and everything. I only wish to become half the woman she is. She's my hero.
My name is Noeline Veronica Bautista. I am a self confessed chocaholic. Shopping is good too, as long as it's not my money I'm spending. I can't live without lipgloss. Overly independent. Content, most of the time. Misunderstood.
Wednesday 29 June 2005
Under Construction
For those of us with siblings, think back to the last time you had a quarrel with them. This moment may have been a fair few years back, or it may have been only a few minutes ago. Usually, these futile arguments do not cease until the referee (in the form of a mother, father, caretaker or guardian) dare to step into the picture. They have the authority to demand silence, resolve the dispute and the power to force opposing sides to say sorry.
My younger brother and I are three years apart. So I guess you could say there wasn't all that much between us. We grew up together, caused trouble together, and by the time I got my first boyfriend, it wasn't long until he witnessed his first glimpse of puppy love. As much as we hate to admit, I'd say we have a good brother-sister relationship. We get along abnormally well.
Reminising, back in the days, we had the absolute DUMBEST fights. We used to fight over those crappy TAZO's you get free with every purchase of chips. Back then, they were the shi*t. We fought over who should switch off the television. On one occassion, our argument was so heated it caused him to throw one of them cheap plastic toys you get free with the oldskool McDonald Happy Meals. What's with fighting over free stuff in my family? Anyway, our grudges were usually forgotten at the words 'hey kids, food's ready!' ;and set aside until the next time we needed something to use against each other.
My mother always said that we never learnt our lesson. That no matter how many fights we had in one day, there was always room for more. We didn't stop until someone got hurt.
I could say the same about relationships. Few, if not any of us have reached our peak of wisdom or have completely matured; no matter how adult we think we are. At the moment we are 'under construction', physically, mentally and emotionally. When you think of typical construction sites, you think of the dangers in them. Dangers that cause harm, dangers that have the potential of scarring you for life.
Then why are we so willing to commit ourselves to these people, these construction sites. They still have a long way to go in the development stage. Alterations are yet to be added in the Brains Department. We go from one construction site to another, getting hurt every single time. We don't stop until someone gets hurt. Even then, it is only a matter of time until we move on to another danger zone.
But then again, it's through these risks that we grow and develop. Sometimes we choose to take these lessons on board and sometimes we choose to totally ignore them. It's a process of trial and error, or simply putting up with the people that hurt us - unconditional love.
My younger brother and I are three years apart. So I guess you could say there wasn't all that much between us. We grew up together, caused trouble together, and by the time I got my first boyfriend, it wasn't long until he witnessed his first glimpse of puppy love. As much as we hate to admit, I'd say we have a good brother-sister relationship. We get along abnormally well.
Reminising, back in the days, we had the absolute DUMBEST fights. We used to fight over those crappy TAZO's you get free with every purchase of chips. Back then, they were the shi*t. We fought over who should switch off the television. On one occassion, our argument was so heated it caused him to throw one of them cheap plastic toys you get free with the oldskool McDonald Happy Meals. What's with fighting over free stuff in my family? Anyway, our grudges were usually forgotten at the words 'hey kids, food's ready!' ;and set aside until the next time we needed something to use against each other.
My mother always said that we never learnt our lesson. That no matter how many fights we had in one day, there was always room for more. We didn't stop until someone got hurt.
I could say the same about relationships. Few, if not any of us have reached our peak of wisdom or have completely matured; no matter how adult we think we are. At the moment we are 'under construction', physically, mentally and emotionally. When you think of typical construction sites, you think of the dangers in them. Dangers that cause harm, dangers that have the potential of scarring you for life.
Then why are we so willing to commit ourselves to these people, these construction sites. They still have a long way to go in the development stage. Alterations are yet to be added in the Brains Department. We go from one construction site to another, getting hurt every single time. We don't stop until someone gets hurt. Even then, it is only a matter of time until we move on to another danger zone.
But then again, it's through these risks that we grow and develop. Sometimes we choose to take these lessons on board and sometimes we choose to totally ignore them. It's a process of trial and error, or simply putting up with the people that hurt us - unconditional love.
Friday 24 June 2005
Maths 4 Life
Introducing.. THE NEW BRANCH OF ADVANCED MATHS.
Mathematics. So beautiful. Feel the sex appeal of the term just roll of your tongue. Let it take hold of you. Let the numbers guide you.
Sarrah Mae, my research partner in 'Sexuality behind Mathematics' are proud to announce the results from our extensive research project. Today, Friday 24 June 2005, has marked a significant milestone in this unusual YET sensual branch of mathematics. It is an art form.
I'd like to extend my gratitude to fellow work collegues; Frances in particular for her ongoing support throughout the day. Hazel-Ann for her attempts for further studies in the field of triangles. Last but not least, John-Louis for delving to link mathematics with that of scientifically proven theories. Pure genius.
Results:
* In the process of factorisation: You be the denominator, I be the numerator. Together we shall multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.
* My love for you is like a reoccuring decimal. It never ends.
* In the process of 'completing the square': You complete my life.
* You and I are like an improper fraction. We never work out.
* I think it's best we break up and go our parallel ways. Never to meet.
* In such situations when the quadratic equation has two possible solutions: Which solution will you choose? Talk about love triangle.
* I love you like a smart kid loves mathematics.
* Your ass is like a symetrical perfect quartic, with two point of inflexion with two minima.
* Spread of scores: Spread the love like the standard deviation of 6862.. at least!
* Why can't we be like a cooper pair of electrons, always supporting each other?
Every night I prayed for someone like you. God looked down at me from the angle of depression. It depresses me to know you can never be mine.
Mathematics. So beautiful. Feel the sex appeal of the term just roll of your tongue. Let it take hold of you. Let the numbers guide you.
Sarrah Mae, my research partner in 'Sexuality behind Mathematics' are proud to announce the results from our extensive research project. Today, Friday 24 June 2005, has marked a significant milestone in this unusual YET sensual branch of mathematics. It is an art form.
I'd like to extend my gratitude to fellow work collegues; Frances in particular for her ongoing support throughout the day. Hazel-Ann for her attempts for further studies in the field of triangles. Last but not least, John-Louis for delving to link mathematics with that of scientifically proven theories. Pure genius.
Results:
* In the process of factorisation: You be the denominator, I be the numerator. Together we shall multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.multiply.
* My love for you is like a reoccuring decimal. It never ends.
* In the process of 'completing the square': You complete my life.
* You and I are like an improper fraction. We never work out.
* I think it's best we break up and go our parallel ways. Never to meet.
* In such situations when the quadratic equation has two possible solutions: Which solution will you choose? Talk about love triangle.
* I love you like a smart kid loves mathematics.
* Your ass is like a symetrical perfect quartic, with two point of inflexion with two minima.
* Spread of scores: Spread the love like the standard deviation of 6862.. at least!
* Why can't we be like a cooper pair of electrons, always supporting each other?
Every night I prayed for someone like you. God looked down at me from the angle of depression. It depresses me to know you can never be mine.
Sunday 19 June 2005
Bess Frennss !!
To all my friends, thankyou.. for everything! You all know who you are. Each child is like a piece of paper, whereby each person that comes into their life leaves a mark. Well, you guys have 'scribbled me happy'.
The antidote for 50 enemies is 1 friend.
- Aristotle
Saturday 11 June 2005
Bling Bling
A lot of guys out there are like fake imitation jewellery. CHEAP THRILLS. Their attractive features lure you. You're sucked into buying them. But sooner or later, after you've scratched the surface, you see them for the useless, good for nothing, piece of sh*t they are. You no longer appreciate them as much as you did in the beginning. If only they came with expiary dates we'd know how much of ourselves, and our time, to give.
Isn't it peculiar how guys are most attractive the less you know about them? We'll drool over them from a distance, but up close they're almost unbearable. We regret having asked those questions about being scared of the dark, the real reason as to why they last cried and confessing to what bad habits they have. Some things are better left unsaid; or perhaps just talking should be congested altogether.
More partners. More cheating. More casual sex. More one night stands. It's not right, but its okay. Welcome to the future. We hope you enjoy your stay. The emotional element in relationships rarely play a significant role anymore. Gradually, its been somewhat 'bred out of civilisation'. We're becoming a society where all you need to make achieve in life is good looks. You've won the draw. First prize - a one way ticket to suceess and a lifetime supply of men/women at your feet; they're intentions are'nt genuine but like that matters anyway, right? The smart and potentially successful people are discouraged and bullied.
Shallow, yes; but its the truth. This is how our society functions these days. Lower marriage figures accompanied by an increase in divorce rates. In relationships, our attention span has definitely more than halved. We fail to appreciate the imperfections that, ultimately, make someone truly beautiful.
I admire people who strive in fields where they are unaccustomed. A business person who participates in a charity marathon. An average grade student who tries their best, rather than a top student who naturally aces tests. A shy, private, soft-spoken person who introduces themselves to a stranger.
We all want to find someone different. Someone who isn't afraid to be themselves. Someone down to earth. Someone who goes about life unaffected by what others think. In my opinion, I believe this attribute is present within everyone, but is masked by an act. We think no one in the world understands us. When as a matter of fact, a lot of us probably feel the same; but just don't know it. Why? Because we're all so damn plastic.
Be yourself; nobody is better qualified.
Isn't it peculiar how guys are most attractive the less you know about them? We'll drool over them from a distance, but up close they're almost unbearable. We regret having asked those questions about being scared of the dark, the real reason as to why they last cried and confessing to what bad habits they have. Some things are better left unsaid; or perhaps just talking should be congested altogether.
More partners. More cheating. More casual sex. More one night stands. It's not right, but its okay. Welcome to the future. We hope you enjoy your stay. The emotional element in relationships rarely play a significant role anymore. Gradually, its been somewhat 'bred out of civilisation'. We're becoming a society where all you need to make achieve in life is good looks. You've won the draw. First prize - a one way ticket to suceess and a lifetime supply of men/women at your feet; they're intentions are'nt genuine but like that matters anyway, right? The smart and potentially successful people are discouraged and bullied.
Shallow, yes; but its the truth. This is how our society functions these days. Lower marriage figures accompanied by an increase in divorce rates. In relationships, our attention span has definitely more than halved. We fail to appreciate the imperfections that, ultimately, make someone truly beautiful.
Our problem is
that we make the mistake
of comparing ourselves
with other people.
You are not inferior or superior
to any human being...
You do not determine your success
by comparing yourself to others,
rather you determine your success
by comparing your
accomplishments to your capabilities.
You are 'number one'
when you do the best you can
with what you have,
everyday.
- Z. Siglar
I admire people who strive in fields where they are unaccustomed. A business person who participates in a charity marathon. An average grade student who tries their best, rather than a top student who naturally aces tests. A shy, private, soft-spoken person who introduces themselves to a stranger.
We all want to find someone different. Someone who isn't afraid to be themselves. Someone down to earth. Someone who goes about life unaffected by what others think. In my opinion, I believe this attribute is present within everyone, but is masked by an act. We think no one in the world understands us. When as a matter of fact, a lot of us probably feel the same; but just don't know it. Why? Because we're all so damn plastic.
Be yourself; nobody is better qualified.
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