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.