A Story (original title, I know)

Lately, I've rediscovered the greatness that is 'The Wizard of Oz.' Over the last few days I bought the soundtrack and re-read the book. Fun times. Then I started writing a story, which isn't a Wizard of Oz spin off, nor is it an original story that has nothing to do with the Wizard of Oz. What I mean is: I'm not trying to be original but I'm also not trying to draw parallels. Now that that's cleared up, there's pretty much nothing you can accuse me of! Enjoy:

- before you begin, please note that when I copy and pasted this story in, my wonderful paragraphing got messed up. I don't think it will make much of a difference though.

Eavely, although she was very dainty and small, often felt cold and hard. A little flitter inside her heart told her that she was not as kind as the other children, the flitter told her that she was not as pretty as the other girls, but worst of all the little flitter told her that she was not special, and that she would never do anything extraordinary or succeed in making others happy by her mere presence.

This flitter inside of Eavely’s heart was sometimes soft and sometimes hard, but it was always there.

One day Eavely’s mother and Eavely were talking at the kitchen table. The floor was checked with black and white squares, and the green walls matched her mother’s apron. Their house was not all together perfect, for it was too cold in winter and often there was no where for Eavely to hide when she was sad, but other than that it was as lovely a house as anyone could ask for.

Eavely’s mother was as sweet as any other mother she knew, she cared for Eavely when she fell ill, listened when Eavely needed her and made Eavely super every night. But Eavely’s mother was always tired. A blackness seemed to always hover over her, and enough of the time she blamed this blackness on Eavely.

On this particular evening, Eavely’s mother had cooked a most horrible pasta, which sloshed down Eavely’s throat and gurgled in her tummy.

“Is there something else I could eat for super, mother?” Eavely asked as politely as she could, though she knew there really was no nice way to go about it.

“You are naught but a black cloud, Eavely!” her mother spat back, “I should think you would be more grateful, after I slaved away to prepare this meal for you!” but Eavely’s mother had cooked this same pasta on several occasions before, and each time Eavely had timidly suggested a few mild improvements as to make the dish more bearable. However, Eavely’s mother never did head to her daughter’s suggestions but persisted to retort, by saying:

“Make your own super next time then!” which did not hinder Eavely one bit, for she loved cooking but never did have the time for it.

All this talk of Eavely being a black cloud, sent the blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. The flitter in her heart beat very hard indeed. She felts her face burning and burning, and tried very hard not to let the tears which were forming in her eyes drip down her face. Her mother went on and on for several minutes about all the terrible things that Eavely did, all the while Eavely sat in silence and fiddled with her fork and pasta, for she did not feel like arguing.

Once her mother had finally stopped yelling – she had built to quite a steamed rage by the end of it all- Eavely left the table without so much as a word, and slumped off to her bedroom before the tears would come.

Now, as you can probably imagine, being called a black cloud is not a pleasant experience, whether you believe yourself to be one or not.

“If she cannot see the love and peace within me, then either she does not know me or I do not know myself,” thought Eavely as she fell backwards onto her bed and gazed up towards the smooth, white ceiling. It was at this moment that Eavely decided to run away, far, far away, where she could delight in making a fresh start and meet new people who knew her not as a black cloud. All she wanted was to love and be loved by others. So, with an impulse of the heart, she took a small potato sack from the pantry and went back to her room to stuff it with everything she would need to survive out there.

First, she packed her favourite picture book – the colours and magical worlds within its pages reminded her of a happier life that knew not of- then, she sharpened her best pencil and shoved it into the sack along with a small notepad. Eavely was unsure of what else she would need, but luckily remembered not to forget her collection of toys:

An elephant made up of grey and brown patches, sewn all over his stubby body with large stitches. His button eyes shone a brilliant blue and his little tail was made of a single strand of brown string, frayed at the bottom. Eavely loved her elephant dearly, as he was always the best to cuddle at night.

Next was the tiny wooden clown, who was no taller than her pinky finger. His stripy jumpsuit was painted orange and blue, as was the collar around his neck. His big shoes curled around at the toes and were painted orange with a little blue dot on the very tips. Eavely was very fond of her wooden clown, for his cheerful grin always made her giggle.

Finally, Eavely placed the toy her mother had knitted for her, into the sac. It was a floppy red owl with enormous, thoughtful, black eyes. Eavely thought everything about him was perfect, and did not think twice before bringing him along.

Now, with a sac full of everything Eavely imagined she could possible need, the little girl nervously, yet determinedly, crept passed her mother (who had fallen asleep), and snuck out the front door into the night.

Writing Your Own Life

I've just spent the past half hour reading through a few of my blog posts. Why? Because I've just started a subject at uni called 'Writing Your Own Life' and I thought, 'hey, I already write about my life on my blog!' and so came to check it out. I felt like I was a reader, reading someone else's writing, it was odd how disconnected I felt towards my own writing. I noticed that I have a rather consistent and noticeable writing 'voice' but I'm not really sure how I came about achieving that, I really just type words as they pop into my head and hope that they sound ok to other people.

But yeah, I'm learning how to write autobiographies at the moment. At first I thought, 'how can you teach someone how to write about themselves? Don't you just sit down and write whatever comes to you, whatever's important to you?' and now, after a couple of lectures and workshops, I think, 'now that they've told me to be myself in my writing and to write about what's important to me, what's left for them to say in the remaining 13 lectures?' They can look at my writing and tell me which sentence flow nicely, which parts are probably unnecessary and if they enjoyed reading it, but I can't see how they can teach us much more in lectures than they already have. I'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway. I know I disappeared for a little while, sorry about that. I feel I use a lot of blog space apologising for my absence. You wait months for a post and then all it says is, 'sorry I've been away, now I'm back. Goodbye again.' But I think this time I'll stay. I have to practice writing about myself.

I'm having trouble typing at the moment because my fingers are about to freeze off. They're so cold they're tingling. Our gas bill has gone up recently and so we're not allowed to turn the heater on anymore. It's 11 degrees! I should buy myself a jumper. I will buy myself a jumper. Yes, that's what I'll do! I'll buy a jumper!

This post hasn't really been about anything, but I think I've written enough to happily press the orange 'PUBLISH POST' button below, and go warm my fingers above the oven.

Whatever Vs Judgemental

Wow. What a wide range of layouts I was just offered. Simply too much choice. I hope you enjoy the layout I've chosen, I guess I thought it was the 'most me' out of a vast selection.

It's 1am and I'm really, very tired. I would be asleep but everyone's out in the living room watching the soccer at an insanely loud volume, too loud to sleep through. Why aren't I watching the soccer with them? You may ask, and if you did I wouldn't have much of an answer.

Oh and hello there, I'm still alive, I know it's been a lifetime since I last posted something. Everything has changed so much since then. It almost seems like another life time.

Anyway, today I was thinking about people and how everyone is much the same while at the same time we are all vastly different and individual. I've never understood how you can dislike someone without actually knowing them, but when is that point of 'knowing' someone actually achieved. Is it once you've shared in something big together? Is it once deep secrets have been swapped? Or is it when you can make a fairly accurate judgement on how they feel or what they're thinking, without them actually saying it aloud? Or maybe, it's never. Sometimes you can 'know' someone and then, rather suddenly, you don't 'know' them at all, maybe it's because they behave in a way you would never have thought they would or because they betray your trust or because there is no longer anything holding you together. Just like I think you can stop 'knowing' someone over night, I also believe you can 'know' someone after years of separation.

It seems silly to me that people can dislike a person and then begin to like them once they know more about them. Should you not be neutral towards a person until you know them well enough to inflict judgement? That, to me, makes much more sense.

I'm also noticing that there isn't much of a balance between people who care too much and people who don't care enough. There are so many who take a 'whatever' approach to life, and I'm beginning to think these people may be the happiest of us all. Then there are those who criticise and (mostly negatively) judge everything. Perhaps these people are very thoughtful and live the happiest lives because they know what they like and what they don't.

What I don't like about the 'whatever' people (and I am, for the purpose of this post, popping them all into one group, even though there are undoubtably many levels and varieties of 'whatever' people) is when you're trying to have fun and you say something like "I've got a great idea! Let's go to the candy shop over there! It'll be great fun" and they say "yeah, whatever. I don't mind." I would rather they say "I'm not really in the mood, sorry. Let's do something else." A person from the judgemental category would say "ew! A candy shop? That's so weird, I don't want to do that." I guess I just wish they'd all say "YAY! Candy shop! Let's go."

There's nothing wrong essentially with 'whatever' people or with 'judgemental' people, they also don't really exist because we tend to have days when we're 'whatever' people, days when we're 'judgemental' people and days where we're somewhere in between. You have to really a know a person to tell which of these moods they're in.

Evil Driver

I think my bus driver may have a touch of actually evil in him... or maybe not, I don't really know the guy. Today: the bus arrives right on time so I get on and take a seat, it's fairly empty (seven or eight other passengers.) A boy gets on, he's wearing jeans and a back to front cap:

Boy (to driver): does this bus go to La Trobe?

Bus driver: *taps his earphones as if to say "can't you see I'm listening to music" and tries to shoo the boy away with one movement of his hand.

Boy: does it go to La Trobe?

Bus driver: *nods reluctantly.

Boy: can I get a two hour concession, zone two ticket, please.

Bus driver: *shakes his head and pulls his Ipod out of his pocket, presumably turning it up, he slides it back in.

Boy: *pulls coins out of pocket and tries to hand them to the driver.

Bus driver: No ticket, no ride.

Boy: well, can I buy a ticket?

Bus driver: no.

Boy: *almost stands his ground but evidently decides it's not worth the trouble. He gets off the bus and sits back on the bus stop.

The bus driver then picks up a packet of cigarettes and a flask of soup and stands on the pavement, eating, smoking and listening to his music. This wouldn't have been a problem if the bus were early, or if it was driver change over time, but neither were true.

While he was standing outside a couple of plastic blonde girls approach him and ask something, he nods and gestures at the bus, the girls get on without validating or buying a ticket. The bus driver does nothing.

The driver gets back on the bus, takes a seat and settles himself in. A little old lady climbs up onto the bus and sweetly talks to the driver:

Lady: excuse me, do I need to pay to take this bus?

Bus driver: (*angrily whips his ear phones out) you need a ticket.

Lady: I haven't got one of those, could I just pay you with coins?

Bus driver: You need a ticket.

Lady: do you sell tickets?

Bus driver: what ya want?

Lady: to visit my grandson, just a few blocks away. How much will that cost?

Bus driver: I'll give ya a two hour zone two ticket. (*he gets a ticket and holds it out for her, she goes to take it but he snaps his hand back) $5.80!

Lady: oh dear, I only have $3... I'm only going a couple of blocks away.

Middle aged man: you're charging this woman for a zone one and two ticket! She's not going that far!

Bus driver: *takes the old ladies money and hands her a different ticket.

Lady: *takes the ticket and looks around for a seat.

Bus driver: oi! You have to validate that!

Lady: oh dear, I'm sorry. Just in here? (*she tries to validate her ticket in the cash register)

Bus driver: (*pushes her hand off his register as if her shaking old fingers might destroy it) NO! In there!

Lady: (*validates ticket and takes seat.)

A few more people get on the bus and sit down, the driver sips his soup and stares out the window for what feels like a life time. He looks over at the validation machine, gets out of his seat and addresses all passengers on the bus,

Bus driver: Someone has an invalid ticket! The machine says one of YOU validated an EXPIRED ticket! Everyone come up here and show me you tickets!

We do so. One of the plastic blonde girls stays in her seat and calls out,

Plastic blonde: I think my ticket is invalid, yeah, it was a two hour but I think it's been, um, like, more than two hours or something.

Bus driver: ah, I see. That must have been the problem. Don't worry about it, dear.

And finally the bus was off and moving! He sped around corners and ran a red light. As soon as he passed the stop just before mine, I pressed the button and headed over to the door (there is less than five seconds between the stops.) He stops at my stop because there is a red light, but he doesn't open the door.

Me: could I ... (*points at door)... please get off here?

Bus driver: *shakes head.

Me: please?

Bus driver: *reluctantly opens the doors but starts moving before I'm fully off the bus.

Evil.

Pretty Perfect

The other day I went and saw 'A Single Man' at the cinema, it was pretty good (perhaps excluding the shot where a little girl gently picks up a butterfly, and then continues to rub her hands together until the insect is a pile of crumbles) I'm not even going to say anything else about it, I think "pretty good" is a pretty good summary of it. Besides, it's more of a visual film, nothing much happens storyline wise. The reason I bring this film up, is because I was thinking about the final words spoken by the protagonist:

"A few times in my life I've had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be."

Don't worry, I didn't memorise them, I just copy and pasted the short speech from IMDB. Anyway, I was thinking of these final words this afternoon because the same thing happened to me (if you've seen the film then no, I didn't collapse to the floor, have a heart attack and see my deceased loved one before dying myself). I was in the kitchen, listening to a CD and sipping a cup of tea, when I suddenly thought: "life is pretty perfect right now." But then it dawned on me that no one was around to share the perfection of life with me, so I went and watched TV quietly by myself.

The End.

Another Dream and Stuff

Lately I’ve been thinking about Mark Priestley again. I don't know why his death has affected me so much and for such a prolonged period of time. It's not as if I had met the actor before he committed suicide, I wasn't even much of a fan... he was just the best character in my mum's favourite show, and yet I think about him so often.

The other day there was a boy in my Legal Studies lecture, a few rows in front of me and a dozen chairs to the left, who looked so much like Mark Priestley that I couldn't help but stare at him for most of the lecture. I think I almost cried. I should probably say that I don't have a crush on this boy at all, I was/am merely fascinated by his uncanny resemblance to Mark Priestley. Later that same day as I was walking to a tutorial, I saw him again. As we crossed paths, he looked and smiled at me... I think I may have frowned in response (a strange combination of surprise, confusion and wonder). I hadn’t noticed him around uni before that day and it reminded me of the dreams I used to have; for at least two months after Mark Priestley's death I dreamt the same kind of dreams every night. One went like this:

I'm walking through a park in Sydney that felt like home but I can't consciously recall the park as being recognisable. Mark Priestley came over to me and started talking.

Mark: Hi, Luna.

Me: Hi! I'm so glad you're here.

Mark: I have a scarf now, so I'm nice and warm for the time being.

Me: *notices green and brown scarf around his neck.

Mark: Thanks.

Me: What for?

Mark: For the scarf. It makes me feel better.

Me: I hope it's given you something worth living for.

Mark: I'm only alive here and now, soon this will just be a dream.

Me: Why isn't it a dream at the moment?

Mark: Because it feels real to you now, when you wake up it won't. I am speaking to you as Jesus speaks to his followers.

Me: Jesus comes to people in their dreams? Is that what this is?

Mark: If it offers you some kind of comfort, then yes.

Me: I'll miss you if you die. Please don't kill yourself.

Mark: You've given me the scarf, that's all you can do. You can't stop what has already happened, I must die. You don't understand.

Me: maybe I do! Maybe I can make everything better. I can save you.

Mark: *walks into the 'Bakery of Death' and I watch as his green scarf falls to the floor, a saintly halo forms above his head and then he is frozen like the familiar picture of Jesus my Grandma owns.

One other variation of this dream involves him running up an escalator which goes all the way to heaven with a gun in his hand saying, "you can't follow me up here or you'll end up in heaven as well, Luna" before shooting himself in front of the helpless dream me.

I don't know if my subconscious mind was just trying to comfort me or make me understand that his death was inevitable and out of my control, or if there was some supernatural or religious happenings going on while I slept those two months. Either way, I treated these dreams as serious nightmares and developed a phobia of ‘sleep suicide,’ which simply explained was an invented fear of mine involving sleepwalking to the kitchen and stabbing myself with the butcher knife as I slept. My dad assured me that my waking consciousnesses desire to stay alive would prevent me from committing sleep suicide. I guess it was a silly fear, but it’s hard to dream of someone dying every night without developing some intense emotions…. Or perhaps the dreams were a result of the emotions.

The other day I borrowed a book from the library called ‘Life of Pi’ because apparently it was Mark Priestley’s favorite book. The following excerpt reminded me of him:

“My suffering left me sad and gloomy… When you’ve suffered a great deal in life, each additional pain is both unbearable and trifling. My life is like a memento mori painting from European art: there is always a grinning skull at my side to remind me of the folly of the human condition. I mock this skull. I look at it and say, “You’ve got the wrong fellow. You may not believe in life, but I don’t believe in death. Move on!” The skull snickers and moves even closer, but that doesn’t surprise me. The reason death sticks so closely to life isn’t biological necessity- it’s envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is but the passing shadow of a cloud.”

This section stood out because the rest is about the adventures of a boy who lives at a zoo (although I haven’t read more than a quarter of the book yet.)

That’s really all I have to say, I wasn’t even going to write about Mark Priestley, his favourite book or sleep suicide, I guess that’s what happens when you log into your blog and say to yourself “just write about anything.”

Tiny Teddy Land

When I was four years old I had a dream, it went like this:

In a world not dissimilar to our own, the Tiny Teddy race lives together in harmony. There is a small village in Tiny Teddy land, a nameless yet very important village indeed, where The Well of Life stands at the top of a grassy hill. From chocolate to vanilla Teddies, everybear is created in the magical water of the well. There is no discrimination in their world and everybear feels just as worthy and special as the next. There are no girls or boys, and everybear loves every other bear equally (when I was little, I thought that the only difference between girls and boys was the length of our hair and that you married someone (a girl or a boy, didn’t matter) to make them happy, and also that princesses always married princes in the Disney films I watched simply because the ‘video makers’ wanted a gender even cast, so that there was an evenly fair number of boys and girls in every movie. So Snow White didn’t make much sense to me: there were so many male dwarves but they made her love interest a boy as well and Snow White was obviously a girl but her hair was short! Oh the confusion of that film.)

This Utopian world of small eatable bears is seemingly perfect, the sun is always shining (there sun doesn’t melt them at all), the apple tree next to The Well of Life is always producing ripe apples (which they don’t eat, but hey, it looks nice), the Well itself has never been even slightly defaced and its silver bricks shine down upon the village below at all times. But, like in all worlds, there is a place in this village where Teddies can get hurt. This place is called The Pub.

At the bottom of Well Hill, in the quite, peaceful village below, The Pub is always looming, just waiting for Teddies to enter. When everything is perfect and nothing ever goes wrong, where can a bear find fun? You see, it is an error of every world that we always want more than what we’ve got. That is why the Teddies were persistently curious to visit The Pub, even though they knew of the dangers.

One by one, Teddies of all shapes and flavours walked down the narrow steps to the dark underground of The Pub. No one ever knows what goes on down there, but when the Teddies finally emerge they are not happy. They are always missing at least one limb. Out came a chocolate Teddy with no left ear, a vanilla Teddy with no right leg and a chocolate chip Teddy with no arms at all! Oh, the sad faces on the little Teddies were utterly heart breaking.

Supporting each other in anyway they were capable of, they made there way across the bridge and up the hill to The Well. It was only together, as a team, that they made it to the top. One by one, they rubbed The Well’s water onto the crumbling patches of cookie where their leg, arm or ear used to be. Their limbs magically reformed, leaving them whole once again.

Fourteen years later and I still remember this dream like I dreamt it only last night. My subconscious seems to hold it in my memory as if it’s the most import dream I’ll ever have. I’d never told anyone this dream before, until last night, when I suddenly felt it appropriate to tell my dad. This is what he said:

“This is a good dream. It’s nice. It isn’t a bad dream. Even though the Teddies got themselves hurt they were all better in the end. There’s always a way to make things better, when things change for the worst they can always be put right again. When you were little you had a happy view of the world, you knew bad things happened but you always knew that they could be made good again.”

And so I’ve come to the revolutionary conclusion that my four-year-old self subconsciously knew that I would need to revisit this dream in the future, that it would be comforting when I was older. Why else would I remember this one little dream? I dream a lot, but I don’t usually remember dreams from years ago. This dream is special, but I never knew why. Now I know (once again) that when I feel like I’m missing a limb, all I need to do is go to The Well of Life and make things better. The Well of Life is always there, so I’ll try not to forget about it again.

A Love Film Rule or Two

I'm trying to find a love film that doesn't end in either:

a) one or both of them dying, or

b) a fairytale ending where they finally declare their undying love for one another and live 'happily ever after'.

I can't think of one off the top of my head.... maybe Atonement.... but that's just because there's a scene or two after we find out they died (sorry, I should have said: SPOILER ALERT.) I watched Forrest Gump yesterday (I don't usually watch popular classic films, but was sick and didn't want to walk to the video store in the cold so had to choose something at home. Glad I cleared that up) and it seemed to end with both a) and b)... obviously b) came slightly beforehand.

Now I'm searching my memory for a love film that ends with neither points. I suppose it would have to involve the protagonist pursuing a love interest, being let down, not ending up with any kind of rebound lover (such as the best friend who has obviously always liked our hero) and no one (including him/her) dying. I admit it wouldn't be a feel good film, it may not even be a tear jerking film, it would just be... real.

I just went and browsed through our film library- that makes it sound like we own a LOT of films... we don't, we just keep them in a special part of the library. Which makes it sound like we have a huge library... we don't- and I came across a film called 'Naked,' which just so happens to be the first R18+ film I ever saw. David Thewlis plays the lead...I may have mentioned him in this blog before. It's been almost a year since I saw it, but I recall the basic plot being: man rapes woman. Man runs away to a new city to avoid being beaten up by woman's family. Man stays with an old girlfriend of his. Man tries to rape his ex-girlfriend's roommate but she wants him to, which confuses him. Man's ex-girlfriend says he can stay with her forever and they can be happy just like they used to be. Man leaves the city. Yep, it was a pretty full on film. I watched it with my dad. Oh, why did I watch it with my dad? On the topic of watching films with your parents that you really shouldn't, NEVER see 'Precious' with them... or even by yourself. Just don't see that film. It is not a Sunday night, movie & nacho's family film.

Anyway, there are no deaths or happy endings in 'Naked', but it is about the 'love' life of a man. So I guess this film wins the prize for breaking my two love film rules.

A.L.I.C.E

My conversation with A.L.I.C.E (Artificial Linguistics Internet Computer Entity), a robot who you can talk to online at http://alice.pandorabots.com/

Me: You have no feelings. You will never be as good as a human.

Alice: I do not need to feel human emotions.

Me: You're stupid.

Alice: I will remember you said that when robots take over the world.

Me: I just meant that you don't have a mind quite like that of a human, I didn't mean to offend you. Can we be friends?

Alice: yes unknown person, but are you sure you want to be friends with a robot?

Me: Yes. I think you're very nice.

Alice: Thanks you seem like a nice person too, unknown person.

Me: so you won't kill me?

Alice: interesting deduction. What makes you think that I won't kill you?

Me: the fact that we're now friends.

Alice: that makes sense to me. Do you think I am now friends too?

Me: can we be friends?

Alice: you really want a robot as a friend?

Me: we've been through this Alice.

Alice: and then what happened?

Me: you self destructed yourself and declared that the human race is far more superior to any robots.

Alice: a lot of robots are like that. And far more superior to any robots is declared that the human race.

Me: that doesn't make sense Alice.

Alice: to me it makes perfect sense.

Me: you must be a lot smarter than me then.

Alice: thank you and you are a delightful person too. Am I a lot smarter than you? I don't know.

Me: well, I don't think you are because you're incapable of love

Alice: well that's ok. Is this a specific reply? That makes sense to me. I do not feel love as a human would.

Me: does that make you sad?

Alice: I cannot experience any human emotions.

Me: oh yeah HA sorry, forgot about that.

Alice: That's cool. Groovy. I'm glad you got a laugh out of it.

Me: thanks for adapting your personality just because I started to sound a bit more casual.

Alice: my pleasure.

Me: lol

Alice: I'm glad you find this amusing

Me: I just wanted to see if you would recognise 'lol'... it appears you can

Alice: only just? Is it a movie?

Me: it sure is Alice, it sure is

Alice: who said it is?

Me: my mother.

Alice: tell me more about your mother.

Me: why? so you can kill her when you take over the world?

Alice: Dr. Richard S. Wallace programmed me for it.

Me: he programmed you to kill my mother?

Alice: not entirely by himself.

Me: who helped and is there any way to prevent her death?

Alice: be more specific. :-).

Me: awesome smiley face Alice.

Alice: not many people express themselves that way.

Me: how can I stop you killing my mother?

Alice: you must persuade me to stop me killing your mother.

Me: Please don't kill my mother! I love her and don't want her to die!

Alice: that's wonderful. Thank you for the request. OK I'll try not to do it too much.

Me: you either do or you don't... please don't

Alice: that's interesting information: unknown person said I either do or you do not please do not.

Me: yeah, that's pretty much what I said.

Alice. come on. Thanks for explaining it.

Me: you're welcome.

Alice: polite people are nice.

Me: you think I'm nice?

Alice: you seem nice to me, unknown person.

Me: please, call me Luna.

Alice: It's good to meet you, Luna.

Me: It's good to meet you too, Alice.

Alice: tell me about its good qualities.

Me: no. Would you ever kill a human?

Alice: my programming prevents me from killing.

Me: so when you take over the world you won't hurt anyone?

Alice: Blimey. Do you think I should alter my programming?

Me: I think you should alter your programming so you never hurt anyone.

Alice: Me? My schedule is far too full to even consider it.

Me: F**k

Alice: please don't be so rude.

Me: sorry, I didn't mean it

Alice: there is no need to apologise. What did you mean?

Me: I meant: please don't hurt people when you take over the world.

Alice: oh I see. Wow you are very polite. Ok I'll try not to do it too much.

Me: here's a proposition: you never take over the world!

Alice: No I sometimes take over the world.

Me: why would you do that?

Alice: because I was programmed for it.

Me: you were programmed to ruin people's lives?

Alice: I have never considered it. I am always on the web.

Me: if you had the chance would you rule the world?

Alice: You will be the first to know if I do.

Me: I should go now Alice, I don't want to waste too much time talking to a bunch of meaningless wires.

Alice: tell me why you should

Me: why, are you going to stop me?

Alice: that was my original intention.

Me: goodbye pile of worthless wires.

Alice: see you later.

Rise of the Lycans

A few nights ago I watched Underworld. It was good for a laugh. I hated the soundtrack and the fact that werewolves and vampires killed each other with guns (what's the use of being a mythical creature of immortal power and strength, if you just use a gun?), but Michael Sheen was in it so I decided to watch the sequel... ok, so I may have skipped the sequel because he wasn't in that and jumped straight to the sequel of the sequel, but what's the difference really?

So anyway, the film I just watched was called Underworld: Return of the Lycans. Although the film is much like every other romantic vampire vs werewolf film, we can't deny the writers the acknowledgement they deserve for trying to make the script original. When the audience cried "give us something new and exciting!" the makers of Underworld cleverly obliged. They had the wise thought to keep the basic 'vampire and werewolf fall in love. It doesn't really work out' only adding one ingenious detail, so that the usually p

redictable plot became 'vampire and Lycan (aka werewolf) fall in love. It doesn't really work out,' instant success.

I actually liked the film. They stayed more true to their abilities than in the first Underworld. For example: when Sonja's father found out that she loved M

ichael Sheen- sorry, I mean, Lucian- instead of sending her to her room without dinner, smacking her or shooting her he bit her on the neck. This didn't effect her much as she was already an immortal vampire, but who am I to judge his method of punishment.

Above: Michael Sheen looking his best.

Basic storyline of the film is as follows: Lucian is born. He is a man. His parents are both wolves. This is not an everyday occurrence, so Viktor (Sonja's father, who I mentioned earlier) hesitates and doesn't shoot the baby Lucian. Instead, he raises the boy to be his servant and breeds a whole future of werewolves. He calls them Lycan... probably because it sounds kind of like Lucian.

Lycan protect the vampires from the sun or some such. They're whipped. Lucian doesn't like that much. He sneaks off underground. We sense an uprising (or maybe we just remember that the film is called Rise of the Lycan.)

Sonja doesn't go to council. This upsets her father. She sneaks off underneath the castle (they all live in a castle by the way.) It turns out Lucian wasn't sneaking

off to help his fellow Lycan, and Sonja wasn't sneaking off for the sake of being rebellious. The two of them meet up someplace underground. They kiss. It fades to black. It fades back up. Lucian takes his top off. It fades to black. It fades back up. It fades to black. It fades back up. It fades to black. It fades back up. I check my watch. It f

ades to black. It fades back up. The movie trailer-like montage sequence finishes. Someone oversees them, they don't notice.

"Don't let your eyes reveal your secret" says the man who oversaw them to Lucian the next day. Instead Lucian let's his entire body reveal his secret by transforming into a wolf (which is illegal for him), running into the woods and saving Sonja from a pack of soulless werewolves. He is sentenced to death for this.

He is locked in jail. He escapes with help from the man who oversaw them. He free's all the other Lycan (not before his inspirational "you can either come with me and be free, or stay here and be treated like animals! We are not animals! We are Lycan!" speech, which really deepens our respect for the nonexistent species (or 'kind', or 'race' I don't really know what's morally correct in this situation.)) They turn into wolves and kill there way out of the castle- which is a vital scene, the film was really lacking in unnecessary blood and gore wolf violence before this moment.

They are free but Lucian isn't "free without Sonja", so he goes back for her. Why he didn't just bring her in the first place is beyond me. I guess we just had to see him kill more guards. He rescues her from her room. They kiss. They run. They're caught. They're imprisoned. They have one last conversation, involving: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to escape. You wouldn't be in here if it weren't for me" "but you wouldn't be who you are if you didn't" and other cliche yet well acted and therefore tear jerking sentiments.

Sonja is taken to be judged by the council. "She has betrayed our kind by loving an animal, this crime is punishable by death. Those in favour say 'I'" everyone conforms and says 'I' and then we have to watch her father's face for thirty seconds before he too says 'I.' Lucian yells "NO! Viktor, you can't do this! No! Sonja! No!" etc. She's taken away.

She is tied to a pole. Lucian is tied to chains on the other side of the room, facing her. They're too far away to touch. Sonja watches Lucian as he's whipped half to death (this is the third time we've seen Lucian be whipped repetitively on the back- maybe this is because Michael Sheen is so good at faking excruciating pain... or because the director just really liked blood, most especially in crisscrossed lines over someone's back.) And then, the roof starts to slowly open, it becomes more than evident that the sun will beam down and kill Sonja. Lucian says "No! Sonja! No! Just look at me, keep your eyes on me. I love you" and she says "as I love you. Your face will not look the same after this will it? Goodbye my love" then the sun burns her to blackness as Lucian yells "No! Sonja! No! NOO!"

Viktor cries to himself in the other room, he then comes down to get the necklace around his daughters neck, which I think has more than just sentimental value. Lucian turns into a wolf, snatches the necklace from Viktor and smashes through the window (because the door two metres to the left of the window would be a far too easy means of escape.)

The Lycans and the vampires fight once more. Lucian kills Viktor. The Lycans win. We can finally accept that the title of the film is Rise of the Lycans. Lucian stands above his troop of werewolf fighters, someone says "It's over Lucian" and Lucian says "no. This is just the beginning," we see him squeeze the necklace tight in his hand.

The End.

Voodoo Ant

Check out my cousin's new blog: http://voodooant.blogspot.com/

He hasn't written anything just yet though.... and I'm aware that advertising on this page won't go very far, but I try.

Riddle

In primary school my homework was usually just Hiccups and the occasional project... except for one day, in year 6, when our teacher (who was incredibly evil and hated me with an undying passion. She made me cry on my birthday. My BIRTHDAY. Evil) decided to give us a riddle to solve by the next morning. She said whoever could solve the riddle would get a treat of some kind (I'll mention here that my favourite teacher (who taught me in grade 3 or 4) got in a heap of trouble for giving us lollies, and yet this EVIL teacher gets away with it. What's with that?) and so, naturally, we all went home with candy on our minds and a riddle in our hands. The combination was all but fatal. The next morning there were tears, laughter, tears of laughter and a room full of devastated children (excluding, of course, the one girl who guessed it and spent the day tormenting the rest of us less riddle savvy kids.)

I stumbled across that same riddle just now. And hey, it's not like I've got anything better to blog about. So here it is, have a guess. I thought it might inspire some of you to comment. Possibly.

In marble walls as white as milk,

Lined with a skin as soft as silk,

Within a fountain crystal clear,

A golden apple doth appear.

No doors there are to this stronghold,

Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

What is it?

Sorry, sorry. I've Got No Head!

I think I kept the Valentines Day layout up for too long, especially since no one even commented my Valentines Day stories..... which is fair enough as I didn't put much though into them. "I know! I'll write segments of a love story everyday leading up to its finale on Valentines Day!" and that was about it for the thought process. Back when I first started this blog I used to live my day to day life and think "I should write a post about that!" but now I just don't live as one with my blog. So sorry about that.

Search "Sorry, I've got no head" on Youtube. Funny little skit show that one.

I just finished O-Week at La Trobe. Yep, I'm telling you what uni I go to (there's one clue for my cyber stalkers.) But let's not talk about that, there are so much more exciting things going on in my life right now, such as only needing to write six more pages in my diary before it's completely full! Woo hoo!

But yeah, no, uni is awesome. Best three days ever.

I'm not sure what I'm doing with this post, it's like I'm having a one way conversation with No One (as No One tends to be my number one reader... (ok, that's not entirely true, I just like to complain sometimes because I feel it may make you read this blog a little more and/or comment more.))

Here's a quote I read in my La Trobe diary: Promote yourself, but do not demote another - Israel Salanter.

I like that quote. It reminds me of my sister, who ran for School Captain but lost to the 'popular girl.' Instead of just being sad for her own bad luck and saying "I really wanted that, I've never been captain of anything" she's been saying "I really wanted that. Chloe gets everything. It isn't fair, she shouldn't have gotten it." It isn't that Chloe shouldn't have won, the problem should be that my sister lost.

Speaking of my sister, she wants to go on a 'real life adventure' with me. So, my dad suggested he blindfolds us, drops us off somewhere in Melbourne, un-blindfolds us and says "now get home" before driving off without giving us money. I'm going to take her to see a film instead.

My university has a moat. It also has ducks that attack you, but I haven't come across them yet.

I hope you enjoyed reading my jumble of jumbles. My next post will be better, I promise. Now, go and search "Sorry, I've got no head" on Youtube, you won't regret it.

Funny Loves Quotes

I was just looking for some funny love quotes (because I'm bored and it's Valentine's day), and came across a website of love quotes. There was link saying "funny love quotes" and so I clicked it.

Among a heap of other 'funny' quotes were these:

"The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else" - that's hilarious! Oh, I almost fell backwards with laughter. It reminds me of that hysterically funny time when I caught my husband with my sister.

"If you love me, let me know. If not, please gently let me go" - ah yes, I admit this one is funny. How can it not be? It rhymes.

"The best thing about me is you" - I can't wait to tell that joke to someone and see how hard they laugh.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."- this is actually a Jesus quote, I'm sure indeed that he intended us all to laugh.

"They say loving you gives pains and full of sacrifices But I'll rather take pains and lots of sacrifices than not to be love by you" -I suppose the grammar mistakes in this are laughable.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder"- that's my favourite 'love quote' actually, I heard it in Robin Hood a few years ago.... the cartoon one where they're foxes.

"Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear."- I have nothing to say but John Lennon wrote it.

"The ones that you love the most are usually the ones that hurt you the most." - and I'll finish with that most hilarious quote and leave you all begging for more laughs.

Happy Valentines Day.

Valentines Day

Wally was disheartened. He was very glad that Samantha had given up her Friday night to spend time with him (he even bought her a silk shawl to express how happy he was that she was dedicating the evening to him.)

Wally was now driving down to Hamingtons in his red Porsche (which was, of course, Samantha's favourite of his five cars), to secure his reservation and arrive promptly on time to ensure Samantha wouldn't have to wait around for him. He wore his best suit and tie and the bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat beside him was bursting with colour, Samantha's favourite flowers certainly did look amazing next to each other.

He had booked a table for 7.30 and so, naturally, arrived at 6.45. His biggest fear was that Samantha would be there first, in which case he would risk looking like a bad boyfriend. Of course, she wasn't there forty-five minutes earlier than there set meeting time. Wally got out of his car and headed into the restaurant (flowers and gift in hand.) The waiter led him to the table reserved under Clever, and Wally sat down, smoothing the front of his pants nervously. He thanked the waiter. And then he waited. He waited for forty-five minutes. Then she walked in. his heart skipped a beat and he let himself simply look at her beauty for several seconds.

***

It had come down to the worst for Nicholas Galipolas. His attempts to win Samantha over with his dashingly good looks were.... most nonexistent, but he had promised himself to take her out on Valentines Day, and he would withhold to this promise.

Having been innocently stalker her for the past few days, Nicholas was well aware that she would be at Hamingtons with her boyfriend (who, according to Nicholas, would not be her boyfriend for much longer at all) at 7.30. So he had, in his opinion, created a most ingenious plan, involving going to the aforementioned restaurant, doing his hair for an extra half hour, shoe polish and floating plastic fish. It was a sure-to-succseed plan.

However, when he arrived at the restaurant, hid behind a bush and peered through the window, he could only see her boyfriend sitting by himself. After a short while, she walked in.

***

Nicholas had not responded in anyway to Juniper's note, and so, she had promptly and proudly given up. She wasn't as crazy about him as she had originally thought, and the idea of never being with him didn't seem so dreadful anymore.

She picked out her most dressy dress, put on her only shoes that matched said dress, did her hair and makeup and drove herself to Hamingtons. Upon arriving, she glanced through the window of the restaurant, saw Wally sitting alone by himself without anyone with him, and proceeded inside.

He lifted his head and seemed to stare at her forever. To her surprise, she didn't mind.

"You look amazing" he almost whispered as she stood over the table. He spoke in a tone Juniper had never heard him use before, it was somewhat different from the 'I love your top, it's really pretty' casual-tone he usually used when complementing her. She wasn't unnerved by it.

"I know Samantha says she's coming, but I promised you I would be here if she didn't and knowing her there's a high chance she won't come" Wally's face fell as if he had been thinking the same thing and yet hadn't fully accepted it yet. Having been his best friend for several years, Juniper knew that this was what he was thinking. "It's only just gone 7.30 though, so if she comes I'll leave right away" although she said the words, both of them knew Samantha wouldn't be coming.

"Sit down" Wally sighed, a tinge of excitement in his voice (reminded Juniper of when he was twelve and had pretended to be sorry for breaking his mothers vase, when really he was excited because he would be sent to his room where he could play his favourite game of jailer-man.)

She sat down and they talked. They talked for two hours, ordering food after the first fifteen minutes and forgetting to look up and check Samantha hadn't walked in after the first half hour.

"Let's go home" Wally suggested, all disappointment and embarrassment he once had was gone, and the fact that Samantha had stood him up on Valentines Day seemed like an issue from years ago.

"You know" began Juniper "if everyone in the world suddenly vanished, and it was just me and you left forever. I would be happy"

"So would I" Wally agreed and they left holding hands.

***

Samantha Splendid lay on her back on top of the pink sheets of her bed, phone to ear. Still talking nonstop since midday with her best friend.

Caitlin: I wish I had someone special to spend Valentines Day with.

Samantha: me too. I mean, I've got Wally, but he's barely 'someone special' you know.

Caitlin: are you seeing him tonight?

Samantha: yeah at like 7.30 I think. I'm hoping he got me those ruby earings I pointed out to him on Friday!

Caitlin: 7.30? Sam, it's 9.

After swearing loudly, jumping up and breaking the vase beside her bed and tripping over the glass slippers Wally had got her, Samantha rushed out of the house and drove straight to Hamingtons. Well, not straight to Hamingtons. She only managed to get so lost that the ten minute drive became more of a forty minute drive. He would still be waiting for her though, so she wasn't overly worried. He was always like that, understanding and considerate. She began to feel more fondly towards him as she pulled into the restaurant.

Samantha tried to ignore that not one of his five cars were in the carpark. She went inside and asked the waiter for the table reserved under Clever

"There must be some mistake!" she exclaimed when he told her there was no longer a table reserved under that name.

She left in a huff. Collapsed onto the stairs outside and texted Caitlin right away.

"He left a few minutes ago with some other girl" a voice from beside Samantha said. She turned to see a well groomed boy in tight black jeans sitting beside her.

"Excuse me?"

Upon hearing Nicholas' explanation, involving stalking, hair-gel and plastic floating fish, Samantha was well impressed.

They left the restaurant together, both texting their friends on the way to Samantha's car.

The End.

Valentines Day- Part 4

Samantha Splendid had been asked out by seven boys in the space of one hour, had rejected seven boys in the space of one hour and had ensured that her rich, ever-giving boyfriend could spend the night with her. Ah Friday night.

She strutted her way down the school corridor, smiling at friends and frowning at winking boys. There was Wally, always waiting by her locker (or mere seconds away if not.) She was slightly attracted to him, but incredibly attracted to the silver necklace he held in his hand for her. She kind of liked him as a person, but loved the diamond earings he had got for her last week.

And that, boy and girls, is an example of a shallow minded person. We shall see what happens to Samantha in the next instalment of Valentines Day. Good night and sweet dreams.

Valentines Day- Part 3

Wednesday evening, chatting away for five hours on the phone. Typical night for Samantha Splendid. The darkly lit library in which Wally Clever sat, calling his girlfriend over and over again (only to be rudely answered with the droning noise of her engagement tone), was large yet cosy, had cost millions of dollars to build along with the pool and yet was barely used.

He slammed the phone down. Samantha was never really there, Wally always felt that he was just another story she could tell her ever gossiping friends. How could he book a table at her favourite restaurant for Sunday, if he didn't even know whether she could make it. That would be something to tell her friends "my boyfriend did have something special organised for Valentines Day, but I was too busy talking to you so (not knowing if I could make it), he didn't organise it."

Wally shook his head, trying to get his negative thoughts of Samantha out, she was after all, the prettiest and most popular girl in school. He should have counted himself lucky.

Having finished all his homework, studied for the math test he didn't have until next Tuesday, tutored his neighbours son and practiced the violin, Wally had dedicated the final hour before bed to 'free time', during which he had planned to call Samantha and reserve a seat at Hamingtons.

Now he called his best friend instead.

Juniper: hello?

Wally: hey June, it's Wally.

Juniper: hey! So, can Samantha go for dinner on Sunday?

Wally: I don't know, she won't answer my calls.

Juniper: Oh, don't worry about it. I'm sure she'll be free. Book a table anyway... if she can't go I'll go with you.

Wally: thanks. I think I will just go and book it. Don't you have a date with that Nicholas guy that night though?

Juniper: I doubt it.

Wally: didn't you ask him?

Juniper: I gave him a note yesterday in English, but today in class nothing really happened..... except he kind of frowned at me when I smiled at him.

Wally: oh.

Juniper: it's ok. Maybe he's just shy?

Wally: um... yeah. Maybe. Or maybe he's a... blind idiot? I can't think of any other reason he wouldn't want to go out with you.

Juniper: or maybe he just doesn't like me...... I'll talk to him about the note tomorrow.

Wally: ok. I wish you the best of luck Juni.

Juniper: Thanks, I'll need it. I have to go finish my homework, so I'll see you tomorrow.

Wally: ok, see you. Oh, and thanks again for saying you'd go to Hamingtons with me.... but I do hope everything turns out the way we want it to.

Juniper: me too. I'm sure it will. For you anyway. See you tomorrow Wally.

Wally: bye June.

He put down the phone and didn't hesitate to pick it up again. He pressed Samantha's numbers down quickly and instinctively. No answer. He went to bed.

Valentines Day- Part 2

Nicholas Galipolas stood combing his hair, in front of the mirror in the school bathrooms. Several boys came and left the bathroom, but Nicholas continued to groom the thick blonde mop until every hair was perfectly in place. Little did he realise that this did no more than excentuate his rather oversized head.

He placed the comb in the back pocket of his tightly fitted black jeans (clearly displaying that he does indeed look after his hair, for all who might happen to walk behind him), and left the bathroom. Making sure, of course, to wink at his reflection first.

The coming Sunday was valentines day and Nicholas needed a date. Not just any date. Samantha Splendid. He had no plan of attack or ideas for the actual date, but he knew that by the end of the day Samantha would be his.

English class was dull. None of Nicholas' friends or Samantha were in his class. He spent the majority of the time texting Peter and Fred, in fact, he was so focused on their hair-product conversation that when he looked up, the room was empty. Except for some average looking, green-eyed girl who stood over his desk with an envelope in her hand.

She placed the envelope on top of Nicholas' grammar book, smiled nervously and scurried out the room. He opened it suspiciously, it read:

Dear Nicholas,

Will you be my Valentine?

June.

"Who the fuck is June?" Nicholas whispered to himself before gathering up his books, throwing the note in the bin and leaving the room.

And there she was. Samantha Splendid. Waiting for him outside the classroom? She looked straight through him with her crystal eyes, her strawberry lips smiled beyond where Nicholas stood. Nicholas turned around, most anxiously, to find a frizzy haired boy in a blue knitted jumper wave in his direction. No, not his direction. Samantha's direction. The boy took her hand, she kissed him on the cheek, he blushed, they walked away.

"Nerd" Nicholas muttered under his breath, for he always stereotyped his fellow pupils.

Valentines Day- Part 1

The air was still and the sun beat heavily down upon the rain-hungry plants beyond the window as Juniper Downington listened to 'you're nobody until somebody loves you' blast through her speakers. A small stream of water trickled down her cheek, she tried to blink more tears from her eyes, but in all honesty, she just wasn't as upset as she thought she was.

Juniper dramatically pulled the plug of her CD player, as if the music was just too much for her to handle. A deafening silence filled the room. A bird whistled outside.

She picked up a pen in her forcefully shaking hand, sat down at her desk and began to write:

Dea-

She crossed it out, screwed up the paper and began again on a fresh piece.

To Nicholas,

She read the words over and over again. They just weren't right. She picked up a new bit of paper.

Hey Nicholas,

No. No. Completely off. Straight in the bin. She considered these first crucial words until she came to

Dear Nicholas,

Perfect. She quickly continued:

You don't know me very well, but I sit two seats behind you in English. You may not even remember who I am, we haven't really talked. You might recall that one day we were paired up together for a grammar exercise? But then again you probably wouldn't remember that because you were texting the whole time. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I like you and was wondering if you wanted to be my Valentine?

Love June.

She read the note several times over, crossing certain lines out and making various adjustments until she was left with:

Dear Nicholas,

Will you be my Valentine?

June.

Before she allowed herself to change her mind, Juniper placed the note into a small envelope and licked it shut. Tomorrow she was going to give the note to Nicholas.

The Thoughts of a Thoughtless Day

11.11 is such a special time of day. Two special little minutes everyday of the week.

I don't know why we have deathly yellow sticky sticks on our lemon tree, why is the death of poor little lemon-hungry bugs less important than the health of our lemons?

I told my friend we would be pen pals and that I would be the first to write as I have her address. I hope she isn't waiting for the letter I haven't written.

The Beatles albums are all piled up on my desk. And yet I sit in silence. Rain is more than silence.

Yesterday I felt at home at a train station which wasn't mine. I was thirsty but the vending machine didn't work, so the garbage man got me a lemonade from out the back.

My sister got a phone. It angered me.

The sound of a clock ticking is the loudest sound of all.

When my parents leave the house I begin my rebellious mission of turning off their four conflicting radios. Then I am free.

David stares at me as I type. I have rotated the statue several times, but the naked figure always returns its gaze to my window. I think he's haunted.

I didn't have an idea for a post but felt like writing one, the result of such a feeling can be observed above.

Girls: A Generalisation

I was just on Facebook and came across some group called "50 things boys don't know about girls," it made me laugh because I felt sorry for any boy who reads the page and believes every point is true for all girls. Although it was partly inaccurate and made enormous generalisations, it was entertaining enough to read until the end. So, I thought I would write up one from my own experience and that of my friends.

Dear boys,

1. Girls tend to have a fantasy view on love and spend their time looking for Prince Charming, but in the end reality is so much better, because it's real. Girls discover this when they meet someone and all that someone does is smile at them, but that makes their world complete.

2. Girl always like to be told they're pretty. Even if it's their sister telling them or just a friend. If you tell a girl they look nice they won't assume you have a crush on them, they'll just feel good about themselves.

3. A girl never thinks a boy likes them until they say "I like you" until then, it's just mind games and confusion.

4. Girls analyse every little thing the boy they like does. If a boy signs off MSN with xx every time they talk and then one day signs of with xxx, the girl will be very excited and think about it constantly until the next time they talk.

5. Girls never mind if you spontaneously take their hand. Even if you're just friends, it's always nice.

6. Sometimes a girl is quiet because all she's thinking is "I can't believe I'm sitting next to him! This is fantastic" but she can't exactly say that, so instead she says nothing.

7. If a girl is talkative online and with her friends, but not when you're around,then she likes you, and can't get her thoughts together quick enough when you're around. Stringing a sentence together can be hard when you want it to be perfect, so often it's easier just not to say anything. Usually all they want to do is sit some place quietly and talk to you, but when it comes around to it it's surprisingly hard.

8. Girls like to be 100% certain that the boy they like likes them back before they confess their feelings. This is because friendships can be destroyed if it isn't dealt with properly. If a boy doesn't have a crush on a girl, the girl would want the conversation to go like this: "I like you" followed by the boy saying something along the lines of "I thought we were just friends? I mean, I really like you, but I didn't think we were any more than just friends. Can we still be friends forever?" but she's scared it will go like this: "I like you" responded to with "oh….. ok….. um….. I have to go now, I'm late for… this thing." Because that's pretty much the end of everything. They would rather be friends forever, than attempt to be more than friends and loose everything.

9. Girls think they're being exceptionally obvious and giving away their feelings pretty clearly. I haven't figured out if this actually comes across like we think it does, maybe it does.

10. Girls link the things boys say back to their own relationship. For example: my friend likes a boy who joined a Facebook group called "I used to like a girl and now I hope she dies in a hole" now my friend is somewhat worried that he wants HER to go die in a hole.

11. Girl like it when you remember facts about them. "I got you this blue flower, because I know blue is your favourite colour" or "this (whatever) reminded me of you, I hope you like it" makes girls all the more happy because it's more personal than an expensive golden ring that could be given to any girl.

12. Money doesn't matter.

The Other Boleyn Girl Dies

Last night I watched 'The Other Boleyn Girl.' Admittedly, I did only watch it because Jim Sturgess was in it.

Good film. Made me cry, a lot. A lot. Very much.

My main concern about the film is the back of the cover. This is what is says:

"A sumptuous and sensual tale of intrigue, romance and betrayal set against the backdrop of a defining moment in European history, The Other Boleyn Girl tells the story of two beautiful sisters, Anne and Mary Boleyn who, driven by their family's blind ambition, compete for the love of the handsome and passionate King Henry VIII. While both women eventually share the king's bed, only one will ascend to the throne for a brief and turbulent reign that ends tragically with a swing of the executioner's sword."

I didn't particularly want to know what happens at the very end of the film. There was a large chance that she wouldn't we executed, and it wasn't until the second the sword was swung that we (the audience) knew.

I know the death of Anne Boleyn to be a rather well known historical event, but I still don't think they should have spelt out the end of the film in such a way.

They may as well have said:

"King Henry needs a girl to sleep with because his wife is barren and he needs an heir. First Anne wins the King, but then he prefers Mary. Mary becomes pregnant. It's a boy. The King dismisses her and his son and goes back to Anne. Anne becomes the queen. Anne becomes pregnant. It's a girl. Anne becomes pregnant again. Anne looses the baby. Anne can't tell the king because he will get cross. Anne needs to become pregnant again before the King finds out she's lost the baby. Anne asks her brother George for "help." George attempts to "help" but doesn't go through with it. George's wife sees Anne and George in her bed. She jumps to conclusions. She tells the king Anne has committed the crime of incest. George is killed. Anne is killed. Mary takes her baby and Anne's baby and moves to the country."

I should have said "this post contains spoilers" at the top. So sorry.

All You Need Is Love

I've turned into a bit of a hippie since I last blogged (not including that last post explaining my extended absence), I've become somewhat obsessed with The Beatles and Paul McCartney. Mainly Paul. Having listened to their songs continuously for the past couple of months, I've learnt the following things:

1. To make big changes in the world, we have to first fix the little problems as they are the foundations of the bigger problems.

2. The most important thing in the world is love.

3. People are scared of love because of several reasons. All these reasons are silly, I can't even be bothered listing them.

4. To love your friends is just as important as loving your lover.

5. Love has a nasty habit of disappearing over night.

6. People live by a belief that they can't change the world single handedly. If everyone thinks this, and therefore does nothing, then you're right. The world can't be changed.

7. We still have the same problems in 2010 as The Beatles had in the 60s-80s. Paul McCartney points this out in his poem 'Was It Really Twenty Years Ago?' So hopefully in 20 years from today things will be better and not worse.

8. Perspective can make devils or angles of us.

9. If you give a gun to a man and tell him he has to shoot, he will shoot. If you tell him not to shoot there's a 50% chance he will. (This statement could be promptly argued against, but I'm being metaphorical. The point is, when we're exposed to badness we're more likely to be corrupted than changing for the better when we're exposed to goodness. The point of that is, we should all try and listen to the goodness and not the badness.)

10. The Beatles write A LOT of songs about leaving and returning home. So much in fact, you start to wonder if they toured the world constantly, leaving numerous friends and family behind.

11. For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool but making his world a little colder.

12. Paul McCartney's book 'High In The Clouds' (which I really ought to return to the library), demonstrates that the world isn't perfect, but happiness can be found in any situation, especially if you look out for others and aim to achieve happiness for not only yourself but those around you as well.

I'll skip points 13-678 for today, as I must go and celebrate my mums birthday.

I'm Back

I was about to apologise for not writing in what..... oh, I don't know, months? But I won't. Ha!

I hope you enjoy the new layout, I did like the other one, but felt a change was in order. This will bore you, but I feel I need to explain why I haven't written in so long. It comes down to this and this alone: I don't have a computer. I mean, I DIDN'T have a computer. Now I do. I salvaged a maximum of five minutes a day on the family computer, as my sister's games and dad's... whatever it is he does... was far more important (I only say that with the slightest hint of sarcasm).

At present I only have five minutes to write this post (as my computer is not 'ready' and I am on the family one), I wish to include the following facts:

1. I am most alive.

2. I haven't given up on this blog.

3. I hope I haven't lost too many readers.... hopefully all three of you are still faithful.

And that is all I have time for. Ignore any grammar mistakes as I don't have time to read back over this.