Rest in Pieces

If I had one wish, I'd make the novel Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom compulsory in the English curriculum. It may not be instant world peace, but it would be the most human way of achieving it. At least then, we'd have something to be proud of.

That way, students would have a choice in discovering the meaning of life. They wouldn't be forced into being better people, the same way no one is forced to listen at assembly – God knows I don't. There would be more good-hearted folks and less people living for material satisfaction.

I'd like to share two things I learnt from the awe-inspiring book (or movie for you couch potatoes!):

"Forgive everyone, everything. Now. Before it's too late"

Experiencing some friendship dramas lately, the quote above really got to me. Would my friends die happy, taking this grudge to the grave? I believe that if it's not worth weighing you down when you're already six feet under, it's DEFINITELY not worth carrying around while you're alive.

Assuming that one of my friends are in the right, matters not. What does matter, right here, right now, is their inability to forgive – placing them BOTH in the wrong.

Forgive and forget. Forget until you don't remember what you're supposed to be forgiving anymore. If you hold on to too many bad memories, you won't have room to store the good.

But if it just so happens that a reconciliation is wishful thinking, it goes to show that true friendship is a process of elimination. Using Darwin's theory of natural selection as a case in point – friends that are fit enough to survive your trials and tribulations, are the ones that will be there forever.

Just think of all the contacts on your MSN list, all your 'friends' on MySpace, the affiliations you see when you're out shopping. If you were to die tonight, how many can you guarantee will be crying next to your deathbed? I bet it's less than all one hundred and fifty something-something-or-other.

"Death ends a life, not a relationship"

True friends are the ones that will visit your grave, and continue to tell you their problems even when you're not there to shake your head and say "Man, I told you so!"

Popularity is a game we play during our childhood. It's just that some people never grow out of it.

And I've got some friends
some that I hardly know
But we've had some times
I wouldn't trade for the world
-Swing Life Away, Rise Against

Secondly, how do you want to be remembered when you die? Think about it every morning before you start your day, because you may not wake to see the next.

"As soon as you know how to die, you know how to live"

Do you want to be remembered as the attention seeker? The user? The liar? The slut? They're just as bad as being remembered for being pretty or always having nice clothes. The only people who wouldn't think it so bad are the sadly superficial.

Be remembered as the girl who radiated what it means to be a good person. Friendly. Giving. Down to earth. Loyal. Optimistic… the list goes on.

THOU SHALL NOT BE A BITCH
even if just for a day, because it might be your last.

10 notches

10 notches down from love is when you recognise his face.

9 notches down from love is when you remember his name.

8 notches down from love is when you can make a fool out of yourself like he has no judgement.

7 notches down from love is when calling him anything other than his pet name feels like the most absurd thing in the world.

6 notches down from love is when you can face him in your pyjamas with no make-up on and state-of-the-art bed hair.

5 notches down from love is when thinking about him, missing him and feeling for him doesn't stop – even when you want it to.

4 notches down from love is when you find typical turn offs cute, when it comes to him.

3 notches down from love is when the thought of committing to him brings happiness and pain combined.

2 notches down from love is just when you think you've had the last straw, he surprises you with a very appealing haystack - which causes you to stay.

1 notch down from love is when you're ready to risk letting someone know you better than you know yourself; so they can swim effortlessly through your veins, and poison your blood; so they can mess with your thoughts, and bring peace to your mind; so they can break your heart and love it back like the world's greatest honour… all at the same time.

Stereotypes

STEREOTYPES. No, I'm not talking about Sony, Samsung or Phillips. I'm talking about gays and lesbians, athiests and typical asians.

Looking back, I've realised that just because someone belongs to a youth group, they're no less susceptible to smoke, drink, get high, swear or have sex than an athiest.

Gone are the days where ones religion has the final say; and here are the days where it all comes down to one thing: personal morals. For example, I'm a Catholic with an undenying faith in the existence of God... but contrary to the church's teaching, I am wholly accepting of gays and lesbians.

In fact, I think some gay couples treat each other better than a husband does his wife. Loving someone of the same gender or abusing your wife? Sadly, society is more accepting of the abusive husband than the gay man. It makes me ashamed to be human.

My mum used to wrap the Christmas presents misleading style. In the case of clothing, she would enclose them inside a museli bar box, prior to wrapping them in Christmas paper. In this way the presents would lie picture perfectly under the tree. It would have been good enough for Hallmark to publish on the cover of their cards. So for the first few years, my cousins would have never guessed that the solid box would have given way to a cotton t-shirt. Exteriors, like stereotypes, are misleading.

It's like how girls think other girls who wear short skirts, wear high heels, make up and 'dance like no one is watching' are sluts trying to get 'picked up', get attention, or get a proposal to 'hook up'. Yes, maybe some of them do. Yes, maybe most of them do. But if they're anything like me, some of them do it for themselves. And if they're any more so like me, they don't care - because life's too short to go around pleasing everyone.

I met a girl who belonged to one of those 'typical asian' groups. She told me about their competitiveness with each other, not only in looks but in the number of boyfriends they had. She hated it. She was ashamed to call these people her only 'friends'. They say that your friends are a reflection of who you are, yet she was nothing like them.

So select a special few, your family, your friends, your boyfriend... and please them in a way that works for you... of whose expectations are in harmony with yours.

So don't look at everyone as they spill out of the church doors, and assume that they all 'go in peace to love and serve the Lord'. Don't think about everyone in gaol and think that they're all guilty.

The next time you make a stereotype, remember that it's merely a generalisation, made for the sake of... well... generalising... and being mostly (not completely) right.

Blah blah, Black sheep

With every single letter
in every single word
there will be a hidden message
about a boy that loves a girl.
- There Is, Boxcar Racer

I don't study music, but English is my forté. When I was eight years old, I wanted to be a writer. I'm 17 in thirty days and looking back, I realised that I've been a writer ever since I learnt how to spell my name. And over the years, I've been taught everything from the styles of texts to writing in context; the difference between they're, their and there; and why in syntax people write.

But the most important and most difficult lesson I'm being taught, takes place outside the classroom, and outside the uplifting pages of my beloved books.










Read between the lines.










That's what I've been told. And that's just what I try to do.

Not just between the lines, while browsing through my feminine read of Cosmopolitan, my monthly dose of Reader's Digest, the dictionary or the bible. But between the lines that bind friends together, between the lines that separate couples in an argument, between the lines that whip us into competent human beings.

I can't complete this entry without touching on a classic: when a girl says that "nothing" is wrong. The key word - nothing, rarely carries the same literal meaning as it does for men. She's inadvertently asking him to read her facial expression and the tone of her voice. And if anything is wrong, it's his lack of understanding non-verbal communication.

More people should donate blood. Boys suck. The Backstreet Boys Rule. Drugs are bad. Behind every opinion is an experience, an influence, a lesson, an underlying moral, and perhaps a grudge that drives a person to believe it.

So the next time someone refuses a smoke, leave her alone. Maybe they've had enough of inhaling the smoke of others, or just sick of smelling your breath. So the next time someone tells you they've sworn themselves off getting high, leave them be. Maybe they've watched it turn loved ones into addicts, or lose friends who've overdosed. So the next time you see a woman walk down the street wearing a Hijab, remind yourself that she probably possesses more faith, courage and self respect than you do - before thinking it looks funny and that she shouldn't wear it. Don't judge people by the standards of your own.

So until my next entry, I'm Noeline, a non-believer in soul mates and a writer… farewell!

Elderly couples rock

Pardoné moi for the absence.
So many thoughts, so little time to express them all. And the yearlies haven't even come yet!
So more for my sake than for yours, this entry will be more of a historical record of my past few weeks - rather than my usual kind.

I attended my first debut, the talented Maidel's 18th birthday. I think her party was more extravagant than what my wedding would be! It was better than formal - because this time round there was an even balance between the dresses AND the suits. Ahh, the harmony. A beautiful night.

There's something cool about watching someone grow up. Even if it's the boy from primary school whom you haven't spoken to since you were twelve. To be able to say: I knew him when he had a combover, no facial hair and whose school shorts... were really short (so short that you begin to question whether it was HE who started the trend).

The bookworm that I am, am currently reading a Penguin classic called Anna Karenin by Leo Tolstoy. Particular quotes got me thinking. here's a few.

"If there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts."
What love is to one person may not be love to another. Who's to say he never loved you? Who's to say she doesn't love you right now? I believe that if someone told you they loved you, it means you suited every definition of what love was to them, at the time.

"It is better to do good in such a way that you may ask everyone and no one knows."
Nowadays, the headline PARIS HILTON MAKES EYE CONTACT WITH HOMELESS MAN would catch more attention than MAN DIES SAVING THE LIFE OF A STRANGER. And even that headline is more noted than the man who gave up his seat for the pregnant lady or the girl who gave you directions when the tourist was lost.
I think that good deeds are idyllically preserved as one's best kept secret. For every Australian of the Year Award, there are thousands of other children who can't afford to follow their dreams because they're looking after younger siblings, who don't have the resources to excel because they come from a poor family, who would gladly have all these if given the chance - but are so humble they would hate the attention. For every Miss Universe, there's thousands of women with cellulite, without a pair of high heels in their closet and smile through crooked teeth who are more deserving of an award. Because some raised three kids on her own. Others left an abusive relationship. Because others have been a true friend in a world of popularity, backstabbing and insincerity.

Lately, I've been working long shifts (8:00 till 5:30 MAN!). I thought it would be a bore working with the older full-timers. But it was actually fun! It's good to get out of my usual clique.
Someone I work with got a surprise from her boyfriend four days in a row. One time was a huge pillow with the words "I LOVE YOU" and the next, a big bouquet of roses. When I asked her how she managed to find someone like that she replied "Break up with him". Confused, I realised that it was among his ways of making it up to her. HOW ROMANTIC!
Another girl was telling me how cute it was, to hear her boyfriend of a few years, to let a huge ripper of a fart out. Perhaps, to this day he still doesn't know that she heard him.

Remember when breaking up with him meant doing everything humanly possible to pull the plug whenever If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys came to air? Remember when ending it with him meant avoiding any possibility of watching re-runs of Win A Date With Tad Hamilton? Well, I've recently (and about time too!) come to the conclusion that life's too short to spend my while life running away from things like these. All in all, what's there to avoid if I don't have any regrets?

I LOVE ELDERLY COUPLES. There's something admirable about seeing them out in public, walking slow paced, holding hands. Stuff the meaning of life, I feel like running up to them and asking "How do you do it?".
I look at them and wonder about all the things they've endured together. Did they ever fight about which brand of Tomato sauce to buy? Did he ever hurt her so much that she almost left him for good? Does he remember what she looked like when she wore bright red lipstick, had smooth skin and so much energy that she raced you up the stairs? The thought always overwhelms me and I'm left admiring them like the Mona Lisa.
An elderly couple approached me while I was working. The lady, with shaking hands was asking me whether she'd be better off buying size 20 or 22 undies. And let me tell you, these were what you'd call 'grandma undies'. She called out to her husband, who could barely hear, which one he thought would would be better. They were past the stage of buying provocative lace underwear, and there was no 'does my bum look big in this?'. I WANT TO BE LIKE THAT. They're my idols.

Last but not least, Retreat of 2006. The last time I had a camp with both sexes was in year 4. I didn't realise how many people in my grade I didn't know. Some of the guys I had never seen in my life! It's funny how just when you think you know someone, you get a (well deserved) smack in the face. Just as a wise person (actually, my friend Michael) once said: "everyone's got a story to tell, all they need is someone to listen".

A shoutout to everyone in my life right now. Hugs and Kisses. You're all what keep the good times rolling!

P.S. Good luck to the year 12's for their trials and HSC.

Border Security

If only customs and quarantine services went as far as ensuring his heart wasn't carrying any extra baggage. Such a service would bring Hitch down to his knees.

Imagine sniffer dogs that could distinguish people genuinely seeking new relationships to the bastards desperate for rebounds. Imagine x-rays that could detect the true intentions of the heart.

There'd be a lot less broken hearts and one rich bitch – that being me.

I read somewhere that a relationship ends similarly to its beginning. Start off on the wrong foot, and (even if you managed reaching the yoga position of head over heels) you'll leave the relationship with the same two left feet. Your heart and mind just as clumsy.

Maybe when Whitney Houston said that she wanted to 'dance with somebody', she was singing for the people who had yet to feel the pain of someone stepping all over their feet, or in this case - walking all over their heart. And when she said she wanted to 'feel the heat with somebody', didn't realise that this very heat would later cause loyal fans to 'let it burn' with Usher.

I'm saying that maybe (just maybe, if it's not too much trouble!) people should consider their feelings before committing themselves to someone, before giving false reassurances. It all goes back to the ancient lesson of prevention being better than cure.

Just because she's from your past doesn't mean that your heart feels the same way… after all, hearts don't beat at the same rate that clocks tick.

On a completely unrelated topic... It's amazing how a song, a beat, a line, can bring you back to a single moment in time. This song is doing just that for me right now. It's moving on at its finest.

I'M NOT MISSING YOU - STACIE ORRICO

Been through just about everything that I could go through
When it comes to relationships
Don't know what I was missing or why I ain't listen
When I told myself that was it
Now here I go, hurt again
Cause of my curiousity
Now that it's over
What else could it be he just had to cheat

I made a promise never to settle
Why didn't I keep it?
Cause I hated the heartbreak
Crying and cheating, the fooling around

I'm not missing you
I'm not going through the motions
Waiting and hoping you call me
I'm not missing you
You might have had me open
But I must be going because
I got life to do
I know I'm usually hanging on
I used to hate to see you gone
But this time it's different
I don't even feel the distance
I'm not missing
I'm not missing you

It's a shame in a way cause
I feel that I may not ever find the right one for me
Did I leave him, is he right in front of my face
Will my true love ever be?
Why would I go on a search again
When I know what the end will be
What good is love when it keeps on hurting me?

No I can't be with you
Cause I'm scared

Felt like I was falling when you left me
I can't keep going through life
Unaware of what I missed
And the person I could be
Love's good when it's right
And when it's left in your memory
All the times I let you down
I guess love will be nice for someone else's life

Perfect 9

Those who know me are aware that I'm just not a movie person. I have a weak attention span; and no Jackie-Chan combat move or Matrix back flip can change that. My eyes may be fixed on the screen - my mind is anywhere but. Although, when guy meets girl, mate, I'm there!

I just finished watching 'The Perfect Man' starring Hilary Duff, who plays a teenage girl called Holly. Thankyou to my boyfriend (ironically, a movie buff) for stating the obvious – she blogs, just like me. On top of that, she lives with her single mum. So maybe I'm biased in saying that it's an alright movie, because I have things in common with the main character.

Nonetheless, it has inspired me to write a combo of an entry; while I listen to Westlife The Greatest Hits. But if I let you go… I will never know… what my life would be… holding you close to me… What is the perfect man to me? How does coming from a divorced family make me different from the nuclear kids?

I think the perfect man is someone who hurts you, and genuinely says sorry. I think the perfect man makes you happy without even trying, but by being himself. I think the perfect man is someone who sees every imperfection, yet finds you nothing short of beautiful. I think the perfect man is someone you can cry, fart and burp in front of, in whose company you can scratch your boob, pick a wedgie and gorge yourself with food. I think the perfect man is someone who appreciates and respects you. I think the perfect man not only listens, but actually remembers what you said. I think the perfect man is someone you can grow old and wrinkly with, so only time will tell.

Next on the list: Divorce.

Divorce is one of those things; it's either overrated or underrated, never understood except by those who belong to a divorced family themselves. Everyone else is either sympathetic or ignorant.

I live with my single mum and two brothers. My father visits from time to time, residing with his new partner and kids. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

So… a few of my dreams may have been broken. No longer can I break the news to my parents at the same time during a family dinner, because now it's done one at a time. Mum, I got an A for my assignment! Mum, I have a new boyfriend! Mum, we broke up! And by the time I get to my father, I'm either over it, forgotten about it or a lot less excited. No longer is the table set for five. No longer do I hear my father's heavy footsteps every night as he comes home from work, because my home is not necessarily his.

… And I wouldn't have it any other way. Even though divorce is sometimes the best thing to do in a situation, it still carries a negative stigma to it.

Some people see divorce as something evil that only happens to bad people. They're scared of people associated with such a family. It's not just the 'immature' adolescents guilty of an act, the 'wise' old adults are getting in on it, too. I've met the parents of some friends, disgusted to discover that their daughter is friends with someone who has divorced parents. I might as well have said that I smoked pot and was a member of Sex Addicts Anonymous. Suddenly I had the words 'bad influence' written all over me.

Unfortunately, that's life. Shit happens, and that doesn't exclude the publics' perception of divorce, because that's shitted too. I'm writing this to set some things straight. When we say 'my parents are divorced' we don't expect a shower of 'Oh my God! Are you okay? I feel so sorry for you'. We don't want any ones pity, we just want to be treated the same. In the same way that your grandmother died, our parent's marriage died. Your grandmother died not because she was a bad person, and my parents didn't divorce because they were bad, irresponsible people.

Bad things just happen to good people.

Nuclear families are always more appealing. But I'm more than grateful for the lessons I've learnt from a divorced one. It's made me stronger than I would have otherwise been. It's brought my mum and I closer than ever. It might not be anything like yours, but I'm proud of my family thankyouverymuch.

SUCCESSFUL sally SELFISHLY sold seashells by the seashore

I went out with a guy who wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend. Part of my lifestyle back then was keeping it on the down-low; like not calling him on the house phone in case his parents picked up.

I went out with a guy who was allowed to have girlfriends, but didn't make it priority to keep the family up to date with his love affairs. So the lifestyle of our relationship was relatively laid back.

I went out with a guy who wasn't allowed out on the weekends. So a lot of our relationship took place walking me home after school.

I went out with a couple of guys who were out of school. So the lifestyle of our relationship was complicated – revolving around my school schedule, his uni/tafe calendar, and BOTH our work schedules.

I am currently going out with a guy who's still in school and allowed to have a girlfriend. So part of our relationship lifestyle is based around our schooling, my working hours and his extra curricular activities.

REAL boyfriends are more than just a hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on, nor are they solely for hugs and kisses. Whether your relationship is out in the open, or your best kept secret - they're a LIFESTYLE.

But as you can see, never did my life revolve around the boyfriend. A mistake, which I see a lot of people make.

There's the boy who stops smoking, drinking, partying not for himself, his parents, his health, or his well being – but for some stupid reason like THE GIRLFRIEND. Mate, YOU are the weakest (and indeed the most air-headed) link. For starters, in the eyes of your friends she becomes the protagonist of your social life. On top of being labeled as being Pussy-Whipped, you're suddenly the Kill-Joy of having a good old smoke, getting pissed, or drooling over the hot chick who works at Boost. Acts of which have been bonding the typical Australian male species for hundreds of years – a tradition suddenly betrayed because of some chick. What more if you break up? Will you start smoking again? Drinking again? Partying again? Then, don't even bother. Remember growing up and being told to do things yourself because 'you're a big boy now'? Well, do it yourself… FOR YOURSELF.

Here's a controversial once. The couples who plan their futures together. A future which eventually, they literally live for.

What to name OUR kids. What kind of house WE'LL have. What kind of car WE'LL drive.

Personally, I'm not one to negotiate my distant future with boyfriends – because in the course of a break up, I don't want to experience the pain of losing something I never had: a particular house I'll never own, nor be able to share with someone else; the names of kids that were never born, names that I'll never be able to use again; a kind of car that will never drive a newborn child into the driveway of my dream home. Call me naïve. Call me chicken, afraid of that kind of commitment. But I call it 'Being Realistic'. I live for my aspirations alone; that hopefully I'll be able to share with someone eventually...

Eventually: after school...
Eventually: after finding a stable job...
Eventually: after realisation that the only thing missing in my life is someone to share it with...
Eventually: after something tells me he's worth it...
Eventually: after something tells me I love him...

I'd describe my lifestyle as somewhat freestyle. Free to be myself. To be Noeline, not just someone's girlfriend. Free to my own future desires, and change them as I see fit. Free of living for someone else's dreams, the reason that it all works out or the reason that it all falls apart.

LIFE is a big word, understood only by Big Boys and Big Girls. A successful life comes from independently achieving selfish goals, and sharing your success with someone special.

Not convinced? Then for my sake I hope you're a stout Michael Jordan fan.

"To be successful you have to be selfish, or else you never achieve. And once you get to your highest level, then you have to be unselfish" - Michael Jordan

Multi-purpose Revenge

My boyfriend gave me an apple.

My boyfriend gave me a pear.

My boyfriend gave me a kiss on the lips and threw me down the stairs.

I gave him back his apple.

I gave him back his pear.

I gave him back his kiss on the lips and threw him down the stairs.

I threw him over London.

I threw him over France.

I threw him over the Harbour Bridge and he lost his underpants.

Even from a young age, us girls were taught that revenge is not only sweet, but if done the right way- can also be funny. Every time we hand clapped to this mantra, we further instilled certain values within us. Like, if you don't have the time to wait for the coming of what goes around, take karma into your own hands and throw him off bridges, fences, cliffs... etc (sorry Mariah, but merely shaking it off doesn't feel as satisfying). Some girls seem to have forgotten about this ingeniously hidden lesson somewhere between her first kiss and her worst break-up, and I'm probably guilty of singing this song one too many times.

You can curse and you can slap, but the newest craze to hit Hollywood is to play it cool, calm and collected. We're hearing less stories about messy break-ups. To compensate for this, celebrity magazines are resorting to dedicating four page articles on what the stars are having for breakfast every second issue. Take for instance Spears and Timberlake, Cruise and Kidman, Aniston and Pitt. For the first time in a long time, we're hearing less about the nitty gritty reasons for their separation: The bathroom smelt like the city dump whenever he came out; she made this disturbing face whenever she climaxed; and the pathetic list goes on.

Sure, you may have vowed never to be with them ever again, but a little bit of 'this smile no longer smiles for you' feels EUPHORIC - especially when it's true.

Shooting him death stares and looking upset will only make him feel all the more relieved about the break up. Because he's thinking: Thank God I don't have to put up with her crying, her complaining and her mood swings anymore. You're only fooling yourself for thinking he'll feel remorseful and ask for reconciliation. Then, he'll mistake this facade as being the 'real you'.

Call me naive, but I'm sickened by the whole speech about how he's the one, how you'll never find someone like him, how you can't live without him.. yarda yarda yarda. At least at this age.

We're on the verge of hitting the late teens or early tweens, and let's face it: we're horny little devils who can't get enough of each other. I don't think anyone gives up on love for the rest of their life. We're not capable of making such decisions.

So put into practice your beautiful soul and repeat the above mantra if you must.
Give him a taste of what he's been missing.

If life is about that half empty/half full glass that everyone is raving on about, I think that people who die happy are those with their glasses full... and the only time that love accounted for the whole glass was in the late 16th century (Romeo & Juliet). So I'm afraid that we've just missed out.

A dollup of love, motivation and respect for yourself. A generous serving of family and friends. A hint of career. Just enough travel to add a bit of flavour. GET COOKING! Envisage boys as the cherry on top, because a cherry by itself?...

BITCH PLEASE, you're just selling yourself short.

Why we're all sluts

Think of someone you love. Now, think of someone you hate. Finally, think of someone you love to hate, or hate to love. Stuck? Consider yourself lucky.

It's amazing beyond comprehension, how at one moment you're CRAZY over him. You were literally on the cusp of surrendering yourself to him completely.
And the next minute, the butterflies die - exterminated by the fire of resentment, fuelled by memories of him.

The same guy.

I'm talking about ex-boyfriends, the boy who used to like you, or the boy you used to like.

I'm not complaining, but rather, sharing a learned lesson. I realised that with boys like this, you only have two options. You're either his girlfriend, or you're nothing. There is no happy medium.

It still intrigues me, how he was able to 'like' you enough to eventually 'love' you as a girlfriend. Though seemingly not enough to keep in contact after a break up. I'm guessing there was a fork in the road.

I recommend that we all listen a little more closely to Robbie Williams. Sure, he may look a little gay, and his video clips might be a tad obscure, but if anything, this man does does have a point.
"Before I fall in love, I'm preparing to leave her"

Since realising this, I go into every relationship 'hoping for the best, and expecting the worst'. Face it. He might not like me anymore a month from now. He might not love me anymore by next week... And it's all okay because he's only human.

It's the same with friends. Those yellow overals (you're probably thinking 'what the?' but hang in there, there is a connection!) probably don't fit as nicely as they did when you were six years old. In the same way that we grow out of our clothes, people grow out of people.

Nick Carter and Nicole Richie will agree that there's a little but of Paris Hilton in each and every one of us. WE'RE ALL SLUTS (boys, that includes you)! Maybe not sexually, but mentally and emotionally - which is even worse. No one reading this can honestly say they've kept in contact with every friend since pre-school, or every boy they've ever crushed on.

Ahh the love, ahh the hate. Anyone who thinks life isn't an extreme sport needs to get out more.