A few hours ago I was at my high school graduation ceremony. It was meant to be a 'magical moment.'
Yet, I was not overcome with emotion like many of my teary eyed peers. With all the screaming and jumping around, you'd think we were a geeky uniform clad mosh pit… And I was the one who accidentally bought tickets to the wrong concert.
For my own reasons, the fact that I will never see most of these people again delivered me relief rather than dismay. There was a time when, and place where I felt a sense of belonging with my immediate friends and the school body as a whole –which was lost somewhere between the transition from an all girls school to a co-ed (combined education) one.
And it's not that the thought of graduation hasn't 'fully sunk in', because I've been feeling like this for a while now.
I just don't think high school was my scene. Hello world.
Third Eye Blind - Jumper
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you don't belong
Youre the first to fight
Youre way too loud
Youre the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know somethings wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
Well hes on the table and hes gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What theyre doing here
And your friends have left you
Youve been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And I, I want you to know
Everyones got to face down the demons
Maybe today
You could put the past away
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Wednesday 19 September 2007
When I was 8 I wanted to be a paleontologist.
Like that life defining moment when you can turn the lights on without standing on your tip toes. Like that life defining moment when you first did your own shoelaces.
I have recently experienced another one of these life defining moments. The one where friendships are put to the test and the people you most expected to be there for you, were the first ones to bolt.
I don't know what hurts more. The fact that they didn't mean to hurt me. Or the fact that it came naturally to them.
And yet, I still have the strength to say "It's okay". Because like the paleontologist sifting through dirt, this experience has revealed to me the friendships actually worth their weight in gold, or should I say skeletal remains, or is that fossil traces? … you know what I mean!
So to all the people who supported me over the past few days: THANKYOU! THANKYOU! THANKYOU! You all know who you are.
I have recently experienced another one of these life defining moments. The one where friendships are put to the test and the people you most expected to be there for you, were the first ones to bolt.
I don't know what hurts more. The fact that they didn't mean to hurt me. Or the fact that it came naturally to them.
And yet, I still have the strength to say "It's okay". Because like the paleontologist sifting through dirt, this experience has revealed to me the friendships actually worth their weight in gold, or should I say skeletal remains, or is that fossil traces? … you know what I mean!
So to all the people who supported me over the past few days: THANKYOU! THANKYOU! THANKYOU! You all know who you are.
Monday 17 September 2007
Ode to Old
Without history there would be no such thing as mystery: it casts shadows in broad daylight that cannot be seen; and even when you're grasping it in the palm of your hand - you can never really hold all of it.
Growing up, my first dictionary was a battered old thing. The edges were worn, the paper was creased, the pages were yellowed and the cover was fading. I don't know where it came from, my whole life it was just there. Even my parents couldn't comfort me with an explanation. It looked less like something you'd find in Angus & Robertson, Borders and Dymocks – and more like something you'd find on the bookshelf of a haunted castle.
Adding to this already stoic quality, the first page bore the words 'This book belongs to Amelia Butler'. The words were of an untamed, messy quality – kind of like mine at that age.
The name haunts me – and yet only a part of me wants to know who Amelia Butler is. The rest of me is addicted to the mystery. And I think this is what gave birth to my fascination with op-shopping.
Where other people see smelly, cheap old things – I see beautiful vintage just waiting to be bought, begging me to add my own history. And to think, some of these things have probably been around longer than I have been alive.
I love knowing that I can never really own the old books, jewellery, clothing or handbags that I buy. Rather, I am sharing it with the ones that came before me, and the ones that will hopefully come after. I feel connected to the past through strangers who share my taste.
I am lucky to have a friend who shares in my sentiment, and we have vowed not to make the same mistake of our mothers by throwing old stuff away. Now, or should I say later, our kids will be the coolest!
If the best things are life are free, op-shopping comes second, with capitalism in third place.
Growing up, my first dictionary was a battered old thing. The edges were worn, the paper was creased, the pages were yellowed and the cover was fading. I don't know where it came from, my whole life it was just there. Even my parents couldn't comfort me with an explanation. It looked less like something you'd find in Angus & Robertson, Borders and Dymocks – and more like something you'd find on the bookshelf of a haunted castle.
Adding to this already stoic quality, the first page bore the words 'This book belongs to Amelia Butler'. The words were of an untamed, messy quality – kind of like mine at that age.
The name haunts me – and yet only a part of me wants to know who Amelia Butler is. The rest of me is addicted to the mystery. And I think this is what gave birth to my fascination with op-shopping.
Where other people see smelly, cheap old things – I see beautiful vintage just waiting to be bought, begging me to add my own history. And to think, some of these things have probably been around longer than I have been alive.
I love knowing that I can never really own the old books, jewellery, clothing or handbags that I buy. Rather, I am sharing it with the ones that came before me, and the ones that will hopefully come after. I feel connected to the past through strangers who share my taste.
I am lucky to have a friend who shares in my sentiment, and we have vowed not to make the same mistake of our mothers by throwing old stuff away. Now, or should I say later, our kids will be the coolest!
If the best things are life are free, op-shopping comes second, with capitalism in third place.
Wednesday 5 September 2007
Long Term Monogamy vs. Short Term Polygamy
So like, here I am writing from my pre-birthday present – THE Macbook. Thanks Mum. I feel so Carrie Bradshaw – with relationship dilemmas to match.
For me, my first long term relationship signified a personal 'coming of age'. I learned that with love comes an element of surrender. I experienced how it felt to be a part of someone else's life, so much that I even have my own spot at his family dinner table. Moreover, I also know how it feels to slip into the routine of things. When things stop being spontaneous, is one supposed to feel a sense of security – or is it an indication that the relationship has developed into a habit harder to break than your thumb sucking, nose picking and bed wetting days put together?
In one of those rare occasions where I watch a movie from start to finish, a particular line from Kinsey (2004) burned itself into my memory. It made the point that the only absolute truth concerning sexually producing creatures is that man + woman = baby. Anything other than that – including homosexuality and bisexuality is relative. Therefore making relationship etiquette and 'normal' sexual practices a socially - not universally constructed ideal.
From a scientific perspective, we're supposed to lose interest and/or attraction in our significant other after about nine months – just enough time to bear a child. Our body reduces the release of a feel good chemical, serotinin. Not feeling the butterflies anymore? That's probably why. Coincidence? I think not. Perhaps humanity's primal penchant for sexual satisfaction, via numerous sexual partners is only beginning to be recognised, practiced and normalised through media portrayal; accommodating the rise for such shows as Sex & the City, Californication, and how could I forget? Brokeback Mountain.
Long term? For me, it's just a label. Sometimes a couple that just got together are better suited than the pair bordering on three years. So whether you're a fornicator or saving it till marriage, whether you've mastered the art of monogamy or addicted to the exhilaration of polygamy – who's to criticise? If enough people do something, does that make it normal?
I believe that relationships should be rejuvenating and challenging, with an element of spontaneity; which I take as signs of growth, maturity and stickability (ability to stick together) against different pressures. And until it starts feeling more like a chore and less like a roller coaster with its ups and downs, will I consider setting south with the butterflies.
For me, my first long term relationship signified a personal 'coming of age'. I learned that with love comes an element of surrender. I experienced how it felt to be a part of someone else's life, so much that I even have my own spot at his family dinner table. Moreover, I also know how it feels to slip into the routine of things. When things stop being spontaneous, is one supposed to feel a sense of security – or is it an indication that the relationship has developed into a habit harder to break than your thumb sucking, nose picking and bed wetting days put together?
In one of those rare occasions where I watch a movie from start to finish, a particular line from Kinsey (2004) burned itself into my memory. It made the point that the only absolute truth concerning sexually producing creatures is that man + woman = baby. Anything other than that – including homosexuality and bisexuality is relative. Therefore making relationship etiquette and 'normal' sexual practices a socially - not universally constructed ideal.
From a scientific perspective, we're supposed to lose interest and/or attraction in our significant other after about nine months – just enough time to bear a child. Our body reduces the release of a feel good chemical, serotinin. Not feeling the butterflies anymore? That's probably why. Coincidence? I think not. Perhaps humanity's primal penchant for sexual satisfaction, via numerous sexual partners is only beginning to be recognised, practiced and normalised through media portrayal; accommodating the rise for such shows as Sex & the City, Californication, and how could I forget? Brokeback Mountain.
Long term? For me, it's just a label. Sometimes a couple that just got together are better suited than the pair bordering on three years. So whether you're a fornicator or saving it till marriage, whether you've mastered the art of monogamy or addicted to the exhilaration of polygamy – who's to criticise? If enough people do something, does that make it normal?
I believe that relationships should be rejuvenating and challenging, with an element of spontaneity; which I take as signs of growth, maturity and stickability (ability to stick together) against different pressures. And until it starts feeling more like a chore and less like a roller coaster with its ups and downs, will I consider setting south with the butterflies.
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