Luna Mooney's blog

2012

2012-01-02T20:37:00.004+11:00

Hello readers.

So, it's been many months now since I last posted something. This poor little blog is feeling very neglected and unloved. I'm sorry blog, I ask for your forgiveness but know I don't deserve it. The truth is, I just haven't been bothered to write anything for a really long time. That's it. No fancy or decent excuse. Just lame can't be bothered-ness.

Moving on.

2012 has arrived at our doorstep, bursting with the promise of joy and adventure. On New Years Eve you may have made a resolution. Something that you are determined to do or change this year. I did not. This isn't because I'm trying to be an anti-conformist and rebel against the norm (which, admittedly, I do sometimes), but just because nothing sprung to mind.

AHA! My New Years resolution can be to bring this blog back to life. Wonderful. Glad that's settled.

On other matters, I actually have nothing to say, I just felt like writing something and I remembered I actually have an output to do that. Cheers blog! You're the best.

That's all folks,

Luna.

A Story (original title, I know)

2010-08-17T21:30:00.004+10:00

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

2010-08-06T13:32:00.003+10:00

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

2010-06-25T00:28:00.004+10:00

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

2010-05-20T14:28:00.003+10:00

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

2010-05-18T16:50:00.003+10:00

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

2010-05-06T17:55:00.002+10:00

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

2010-04-25T22:49:00.002+10:00

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

2010-04-15T20:26:00.002+10:00

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

2010-03-22T16:42:00.004+11:00

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

2010-03-13T22:08:00.006+11:00

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

2010-03-13T19:24:00.004+11:00

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

2010-03-03T21:19:00.002+11:00

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!

2010-02-26T19:02:00.003+11:00

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

2010-02-14T20:22:00.003+11:00

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

2010-02-14T14:06:00.004+11:00

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

2010-02-12T19:53:00.003+11:00

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

2010-02-10T14:04:00.002+11:00

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

2010-02-09T11:38:00.002+11:00

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

2010-02-08T11:23:00.003+11:00

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

2010-02-04T11:11:00.003+11:00

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

2010-02-02T13:20:00.003+11:00

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

2010-01-31T13:24:00.003+11:00

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

2010-01-25T16:21:00.003+11:00

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

2010-01-23T10:14:00.002+11:00

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.

Julie and Luna

2009-11-25T13:21:00.000+11:00

I was watching the film ‘Julie and Julia’ (or is it ‘Julia and Julie’?) the other day, and realised that Julie is just like me. Ok, I only watched the first half (I can’t go against the magical force which is my bed time), so let’s pretend for the purpose of this blog that the second half of the film doesn’t exist (she could, after all, become a serial killer or something of the sort.)

1. She has a blog... so do I.

2. She writes on her blog very frequently, maybe several times a day..... we can pretend that’s true of me.

3. She is cooking her way through a famous chefs cook book and blogging about it..... I am moving my way through my own life and on rare occasion’s blogging about it.

4. She can cook.... this is the part where I say “I can’t cook”, but that isn’t true, I just don’t cook very often which makes me inexperienced and not the best of cooks (which I’m sure would be the same for Julie, had she not made the decision to love cooking and therefore do it regularly.)

5. Julie has readers who send her gifts and money, she is greatly loved by those who follow her blog...... I’m sure it would be much the same for me if I had my address on here, and a paypal system for all of you to send me money.

6. I don’t like eggs.... neither does Julie (until, of course, she tries an egg for the first time and falls in love with them.)

7. Julie caught the train in one or two shots of the film.... I have caught the train before.

8. Many people read her blog and she is overwhelmed with comments.... my time will come.

As you can see, we’re practically soul mates. The only difference between me and Julie is that she is very busy with her job, meeting friends and cooking her way through a cookbook..... I am sitting at home playing cards by myself (although, I must admit, the delight of beating myself is just wonderful.) I guess I’ll have to patiently wait until mid/late December when I catch a train all the way to NSW to meet James Johnston, that’ll be fun.

To the Video Store and Back

2009-11-11T21:15:00.000+11:00

Her blistered feet thumped across the steaming pavement, there was nothing but a pair of thin plastic thongs between her flesh and the hard concreted ground that ran through the park. She picked up her pace, her head still pounding with the sound of shattered glass and drunken laughter echoing from home. All too quickly she reached the local shops, moderately deserted, only the essential stores.
Not knowing what to do or where to go, she decided hastily to visit the video store. She knew that in there she could walk around leisurely for hours without anyone so much as noticing her. She pushed hard on the store door, which was conveniently closed to keep the cool air inside and the hot air out. Feeling a wave of relief as she entered the air conditioned store, she felt suddenly aware of the light dress she was wearing, feeling its weight on her body as if it hadn’t existed all the time she was outside.
Late Friday afternoon and the video store was packed, parents and their children come to choose a film for the night. Happy families, laughing and playfully teasing each other. Maybe she shouldn’t have come to the video store. She headed to the back of the shop, where the horror and thriller films sat hauntingly awaiting their next victims, ready to jump out at any unsuspecting child who wondered unknowingly to the wrong end of the store. Here it was empty of people. Her eyes flicked over the gory covers until she’d had enough and could no longer withhold the mask of bravery she’d put on.
Her eyes met those of a young boy, perhaps three or four years of age, he stared at her for a while, his mattered hair covering the majority of his oversized glasses, after several seconds the staring became less and less innocent and an eerie sensation that the child was dead crossed her mind.
“Michael, come away from the horror section” a tall man placed his hand on the boys shoulder, his hair was much the same as the boys only more tame and groomed, and his glasses were of a suitable size. The child broke his gaze and looked up at his father longingly “you might see something frightening” the man persisted, and led his son away, guiding him to the counter of the store. The boy turned around and looked at her once more, from the corner of his right eye a line of thin crimson liquid streamed down his cheek, he slowly turned his head, took his father’s hand and they silently approached the counter.
“Excuse me” Lily called after the boy and her father “excuse me!” she repeated louder when neither of them responded. Lily walked closer to them, stood on her toes and tapped the man on the shoulder “excuse me, I think your son’s eye is bleeding” she said in her most mature voice, trying to sound sure of herself despite being only eleven. The man turned around, and Lily was too stunned to scream or even talk when he looked down at her with dripping red eyes, under blood splattered glasses.
He and his son quickened to a sprint and left the store, without so much as putting their film back on the shelf. “You have to pay for that!” the cashier shouted after them, oblivious to all that Lily had seen. Too shocked to pursue the man and his son or tell someone what had happened, Lily fearlessly concluded that a house of drunken men would be safer than the unknown of this seemingly ordinary, and yet spine chillingly unordinary, evening out at the shops, and decided to head home.
The sun had not yet fallen, Lily wasn’t used to being able to see so clearly at 7pm, but was glad the evening sky provided her with some comfort and guidance for the short journey home.
She wacked her headphones on her ears and turned up the volume, as to wash out her own horrifying thoughts. It didn’t take long until she was away from the shops and walking alone, down a street of houses.
The upbeat music with its sweetened lyrics added a somewhat creepy feel to Lily’s walk, but she dared not turn it off and be succumbed to the evil powers of her own imagination. The guitars and drums played a familiar tune in her ears, she tapped her fingers gently on her leg to the rhythm, until a strange unheard of instrument began playing a flicking, scratching noise every three or so beats. Lily figured she just hadn’t noticed this particular instrument in the song before, but became more and more certain that it didn’t belong as the song progressed. Eventually she was jolted to the terrifying realisation that this sound may not be coming from her MP3 played and, with a quickening heart beat, lifted the fluffy black headphones of her ears and heard as the flicking noise got further away with the rest of the music. She exhaled in relief and placed the headphones securely back on. But to her horror, the music was no longer playing and all that could be heard was the rhythmic flicking, like a long nail quickly scratching some hard metal surface. She whipped off her headphones and left them of the floor, she was free of the noise but began to run.
She continued to glance behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed, but kept a focused determination on the road ahead and the desire to be at home in bed. She looked back and noticed the shadow of a person reflecting on the pavement meters behind her own shadow, without checking to see who it was she broke into an electrified sprint and ran with more energy than she thought she had and yet less than what she wanted. The person continued to gain on her, from the shadow she could see that he was much larger than herself. The torture of not knowing what her pursuer looked like finally got to Lily, and she looked down the path behind her. There was no one there. She continued to run, with less speed, turning back to make sure no one was there several times.
It took almost five seconds before she noticed the shadow on the ground, still there, still gaining on her. She looked back and saw no person. Whose shadow was it if there was no one after her? Lily stopped running and watched as the shadow approached her own shadow, pulled out a large shadow knife and stubbed her right in the shadow heart. She watched as her shadow clenched at the wound and fell to its knees, she had to check to make sure she wasn’t making the same movements. Lily bent down and touched the darkened outline of ground, but it was just concrete, just a shadow.
Running all the way back home, the light reflected off her but caused no shadow, she reached the door of her house and went inside. She wasn’t surprised to find it unlooked. She cautiously snuck past her father and his friends, who were asleep on the floor of the kitchen, bottles of bear in each of their hands. Once she reached the stairs she ran up them victoriously, she had made it home alive. She grabbed her pyjamas off the end of her bed and pushed open the bathroom door, locking it behind her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes were a shiny scarlet, dripping heavily from their sockets and onto the sink.

lol

2009-11-02T18:42:00.001+11:00

It has come to my attention that ‘lol’ is no longer an acronym for ‘laugh out loud.’ These days, when someone actually physically laughs they have to say ‘HAHAHA’ or ‘I actually just loled at that last comment you made!’ even ‘haha’ is often used when the person doesn’t laugh, but is commonly used when they find something funny or amusing. In the present day ‘lol’ is used to ensure that the receiver of the message or comment acknowledges that the conversation is light hearted and not too serious.

For example: “you’re so crazy lol”
Or
“Stop talking about Matthew Lewis lol”

It isn’t an expression of sarcasm, what is being said is meant, but possibly the sender is smiling while writing it or wanting to avoid offending the receiver. ‘lol’ is also commonly used to break up sentences, as a more friendly substitution for a full stop or comer.

For example: “yesterday was so fun lol what are you doing tomorrow?”
Or
“Stop bringing up Matthew Lewis lol ur obsessed”

The moment I realised ‘lol’ no longer represented laughter was when I sent a friend this message:
“Why weren’t you in class today?”
And got the reply
“I was sick lol”
I almost said
“haha yeah that IS pretty funny, I’m laughing out loud at the thought of you being sick at home as well!”
What she actually meant was
“I was sick, but don’t worry, it’s not that bad”

And that’s pretty much all I have to say, this blog is all but dead lol

Who Mowed the Lawns of Eden?

2009-10-10T10:36:00.002+11:00

I woke up to this song playing on my radio, and thought it was pretty funny:

Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who kept the garden trim?
Adam never volunteered, I'm sure it wasn't him.
Who pruned all the fruit trees to which Genesis refers?
Did the angel Gabriel have some secateurs?

Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who kept the garden green?
Eve was not a gardener, and the Cherubs were not keen.
The angels and archangels, they were pretty much the same,
They refused to weed as well as magnify His name.
The Seraphim, they could have helped in several different ways,
But they had all their time used up with singing hymns of praise.
The Heavenly Host was small then, because nobody had died,
But none of them liked digging, even though they'd never tried.
I bet the saints and martyrs would have loved to dig and hoe,
For martyrs up in heaven are the same as here below.

Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who helped the garden grow?
Who made of it a Paradise? I'll tell you, 'cos I know.
God. He fixed the garden, the first one that he made,
He pruned all the roses, and was handy with his spade.
On Sunday, nice and early He went out to smell the dew.
(There wasn't any Church then, so He'd nothing much to do).
He wandered to the potting-shed, behind the Tree of Life,
And got his spade and trowel out, His fork and pruning knife.
He looked after Eden, and He watched the lilies grow,
And Eden's still a Paradise where gardeners can go.

Who mowed the lawns of Eden? God mowed the lawns and more,
Adam couldn't help Him, for his rib was still quite sore.
The beasts that God created never helped in any way,
The lion lay down with the lamb, bone idle all the day.
God built all the trellises for clematis to climb,
Cut back the wisteria and trained the columbine.
He pruned all the fruit trees: apple, peach and pear,
He had so many jobs to do, you always find Him there.
So if I get to Heaven, I'll just ask Peter if I can
Potter about in Eden, just to help out the Old Man.

Cashew

2009-10-07T10:24:00.002+11:00

Here's a story I didn't write for my blog but then remembered I haven't posted anything in a very long time, so decided to share it with you.

Cashew lay silently on her back, gazing up at the shadowed ceiling, wondering why on earth she had been named after a nut. When all of a sudden it dawned on her, as the sun crept through the windows, Cashew realised that she had to make a name for herself. What was the use of having such an off centre name if she wasn’t going to use it to her advantage? So she hopped out of bed, got dressed, brushed her teeth and did all those other routine things that normal people with normal names do in the morning, before stuffing a backpack full of clothes and food and declaring to her mother that she was “going on a wild adventure that no one has ever dreamt of” her mother said “be back in time for supper, dear” and Cashew swung her bag around her shoulders, leaving the house with nothing but excitement on her mind.
Standing outside in the morning air, the long grass under her elf like boots, Cashew came to the conclusion that there was no adventure to be had. She looked across the grassy field, it stretched on as far as she could see. It would be tiring to push through and she doubted it would ever end, but she’d promised herself an adventure and she never broke her word. She adjusted the straps of her backpack picked up a suitable sized stick to aid in walking, and set off.
“Once I’ve seen beyond the grassy field I’ll be famous and everyone will know my name!” she declared aloud to herself “when they hear the name ‘Cashew’ they will no longer laugh, they will instead be reminded of me and the greatness I have achieved!” it didn’t occur to Cashew that the world may already extend beyond her village, that there may actually be other civilisations beyond what she could see. But she was an explorer and was determined to be the first to discover the world beyond her town. Leaving her family and friends behind, she began her journey to “whatever it is that lies beyond the grass!”

After walking nonstop for several intense and exhausting minutes, Cashew threw her bag to the ground and lay on the ground staring up at the sun, she wondered “how long will it take for me to go blind if I continue staring at the sun like this?” but as her eyes began to sting and water she made the wise decision not to venture any further and find the answer. She rubbed her eyes until a gentle hand touched hers and a voice said “staring at the sun like that will make you blind.” Cashew opened her eyes and found a boy standing over her, his hand was outstretched to help her up, she took it and clumsily stood beside him. His hand was twice the size of hers, but he didn’t look nearly as old as her dad.
“Thanks” she said “I just wanted to know how long it would take”
“How long what would take?” the boy asked conversationally
“For me to go blind” she answer “but it hurt too much and I couldn’t bear it any longer”
“I’m not surprised”
“That I was so silly?”
“No. That you gave up”
“I didn’t ‘give up’ I just decided I would rather keep my vision than find out the answer”
“That, you see, is the reason why no one knows the answer. The smarter of us just presume we’ll go blind if we look at the sun, and don’t really care about discovering the answer to your query”
Cashew thought momentarily about questioning him, and arguing that maybe staring at the sun has never even been a cause of blindness. But she felt intimidated by the young man and began to nervously twiddle with the plastic Barbie watch around her dainty wrist.
“What are you doing all by yourself out in this open field anyway? Anything could happen to you and nobody would know” the man had managed to change Cashew’s outlook of a marvellous adventure down a path of self doubt.
“I... um... just wanted to go exploring?” she hoped very much for his approval
“Well you shouldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you” but it was no fun anymore, he had taken the spontaneity and excitement away. “What were you thinking of doing?” he asked, half curious but half in anticipation to get it over with. This made Cashew feel rather stupid, how could she say ‘I was just going to roam around anywhere hoping something exciting would happen,’ he would just think her a fool.
“I’m.... looking for my pet dog...”
“Did he run away? I thought you said you were exploring?”
“Oh... yeah. Um, I’m exploring around to find my lost dog” she was partially satisfied with this response, as it seemed to give her an air of purpose although it didn’t fully support her ‘I just wanted to go exploring’ statement from earlier on, and she knew he was aware of that.
“Right then. Let’s get looking. We don’t want to boil away under the sun” the man began to scan the field with his eyes as he walked forwards. At least her adventure had some sense of direction now, Cashew concluded that this was a good thing, and happily followed the clever boy.
“Spot!” she called to the sky so their search would appear more genuine, he soon mimicked her calls. She was pleased that calling her (however imaginary) dog’s name had been seen as a good move to make.
“What’s your name by the way?” the man asked, after a tiring day of walking forwards and calling to nothing.
“Lucy” Cashew replied, for she didn’t think her name would sit well with the man.
“mm, that’s fairly ordinary” he said with a gentle smile. She wished she’d told him her real name, maybe he would have said ‘wow! That’s very unique and special! I love it’ but no, she had to lie. She was now seen as dull and ordinary and it was entirely her fault.

“I’m just going to go over there for a moment, I’ll be back shortly” the man informed her, pointing towards an identical area of never ending grass just over to the left. The town was no longer in sight, and the sun was beginning to set. Cashew didn’t ask what he was doing, in fear that his sentence would end with ‘...what else would I have been doing, you stupid child.’ He walked so far to the left that, in the hazy black sky, Cashew could no longer see him. She began to think about what he’d said earlier about something bad possibly happening to her if she were alone. The day had been warm, but the night was chilly. The moon shone bright enough that Cashew could make out the intricate details of the friendship bracelet around her ankle. This ignited her on a whirlwind of thoughts: if you wear a bracelet around your ankle is it still a bracelet? Do you call it an anklet even though it was made as a bracelet? Why can’t I tell which threads are purple and which are green in this light? Why is it that the night changes brightness and also colour? Does the sun hold all the colour? She continued to wonder as little girls do, until, very suddenly, she was knocked forward by a galloping horse.

“Shit! Sorry” said a voice, a tanned boy with dark hair swung off his horse and gently helped Cashew to her feet. He looked at her with a pure honesty, she could see into his soul and it was clear he didn’t mean to hurt her for he obviously cared. “Are you hurt? Would you like me to give you a ride on my horse? Where are you off to?” he asked tenderly, he looked at her as if he’d never cared about anything more in his entire life. Like she was special.
“No no” she reassured him “I’m fine”
“You’re shivering” he exclaimed “why didn’t you tell me? Here, take my jacket” and without waiting for her response, he gave Cashew his puffy brown leather coat.
“Thanks”
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, genuinely curious and genuinely concerned
“I was going to go on an adventure”
“Sounds fun! I’d be up for that” Cashew loved that he liked her for who she was and wondered if the other man would have been the same if she’d been honest, but then she remembered how intimated he had made her feel.
“Would you really!? We should go on an adventure together”
“Do you often go on adventures?” he asked
“No, I never have before”
“Then this will be your first real adventure?”
“Yeah, I suppose it will be! We’ll have to make it fun and exciting”
“Fun and exciting is my specialty!” he smiled and winked at her and she felt very content within herself.
“I love your horse” she commented, feeling that she could say anything without being negatively judged
“Why thank you” he bowed “she is the horse of the night, I call her Nightmare”
“She’s beautiful”
“Do you want to ride her?”
“I would love to ride her! That would be very fun and exciting!”
And with that he jumped upon his black mare and swept Cashew up with his hand. As they galloped off into the night Cashew remembered the other man and worried about whether he would feel left behind, but she figured he hadn’t really liked her that much anyway and would probably be better off without her around.

After only a very short while she noticed that the grass land was coming to an end and could see a forest just over in the distance
“Oh! Look! The grassland does end! This is a great adventure” she cried, holding onto his waste so she wouldn’t slip off the lighting fast horse.
“This is only the beginning my lovely” he announced and they sped even faster towards the tall trees. “What’s your name by the way?”
“Cashew”
“Bless you”
“Haha, no, that’s my name!” she laughed
“It’s sweet” he said earnestly. She was so happy she could fly. They were soon at the forest and the pair of them were very excited. He flung her off the horse and they went running about in the forest, she felt as free as a bird and didn’t hesitate to hold back as she leaped about and absorbed how wonderful the forest was. It was during this time, however, that she remembered her mother’s warnings ‘be back by supper,’ it was now long past supper, it was long past bed time. If only she’d stayed with the other man, he would have got her safely home. Even though she couldn’t be honest or herself around him, he would surely have made certain she got home in time. Now she was more worried than she ever had to be, she no longer even felt safe. She knew she couldn’t trust this boy.
“What’s wrong?” the boy asked
“I think I should go home now”
“But we’ve only just started having fun! There’s so much more I need to show you” but Cashew had never wanted to go beyond what was beyond the grass field, she had merely wanted evidence that it ended. She knew it would be fun to stay but never the less it was too much excitement for her to deal with, she was already late and would have to go home.
Without question he saddled up Nightmare and took Cashew home

“Goodnight. We’ll have to do something fun and exciting again someday” she said as she stumbled off his horse and handed him back his jacket
“No problems. I’ll catch you round” he waited until she was safely inside her house and then galloped off into the night. She doubted he would even remember her, he would continue to go on many adventures without her. Cashew felt bad. Not bad as in sick or upset, but bad as in naughty. Her mum felt much the same. She went to bed straight away without supper.

The next morning there came a knock at the door. “It must be the boy with the horse!” Cashew thought when her mum announced that it was for her. But it wasn’t. It was the other man. She was very excited to see him, although she couldn’t fathom why, he seemed a much better friend to have than the ridder of Nightmare
“Hi Lucy” he said sweetly, smiling gently “I just wanted to say sorry for walking off so far. I hope you’ll forgive me, I never meant to abandon you”
“That’s fine, I understand” she said, feeling incredibly guilty for abandoning him and running off with the other boy. She wished very much that she hadn’t left him behind, even if it meant she may not have seen the forest.
“My name isn’t Lucy, by the way” she added impulsively “It’s Cashew” for a second he was confused and shocked, but then he said “I wish you’d told me that earlier...that’s the most wonderful name I’ve ever heard, and I shall never forget it for as long as I live.”

Magic Coffee Story

2009-08-28T16:23:00.001+10:00

This was meant to be a story about a man who has a magical adventure with a coffee cup that gives him whatever drink he desires, depending on what he presses down on the top of the plastic take away cup lid. This story, however, is nothing like that. Enjoy anyway.....

He fumbled around his pockets for his wallet, he was wearing a new jacket and was unfamiliar with the whereabouts of the pockets, more specifically the whereabouts of his wallet. The cosy little cafe was deserted and quiet except for the gentle, agitated tapping of the waitresses’ fingers against the cash register. “Just a moment” he reassured her “it’s here somewhere” eventually he thought to try his back jean pocket, and was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t looked there first.
“Two dollars fifty” the waitress reminded him expecting his memory of all things to be pitiable, but he placed the correct sum of money on the counter before she had finished speaking. She begrudgingly set to work constructing the caramel flavoured hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and cream, which he had previously ordered.
“Thank you” he said with great sincerity, trying to make his smile as suggestive as possible. The waitress seemed oblivious to his emotions (or else she simply didn’t care) and continued to read her murder mystery novel to pass the time while waiting for the next costumer she knew wouldn’t be coming. After six years of coming to the same cafe, he had never gone as far as leaving a suggestive smile and was rather pumped with adrenaline as he took a seat in his usual corner. He had been preparing for the all revealing smile for some time now, and wasn’t sure what to think of her indifferent response.

Once seated, he took another glance in her direction, she must have felt the lingering stare because she looked up from her novel after a few minutes “what’s that you’re reading?” he asked her spontaneously. He was astounded at himself and it took him several moments to release the words had left his mouth. Why, after years of planning a smile, had he suddenly asked a personal question? His heart accelerated to beyond what should be healthy, and he wondered if she could hear it.
“Just something I picked up from the library” she replied casually, and continued reading to avoid talking further. She goes to library! he thought with intense excitement. He had no real reason for being excited, but he was undoubtedly over the moon.
“It’s funny you should say that” he said not thinking twice, or even once “because I went to the library the other day, and got a book as well!” he immediately realised how foolish his comment was and closed his eyes in anguished embarrassment. She looked up at him briefly and as their eyes met he wished he could bottle the moment and revisit the connection at a later date. It didn’t last long and she had a why-does-my-only-costumer-have-to-be-so-strange look on her face, but he placed it high on his list of heaven like moments all the same.

His usual cautious self kicked back in and he averted his gaze, leaving her to read. Read the book she always read. The book she picked up from the library. The same library he goes to. Maybe one day he’ll bump into her there.... maybe they’ll talk again there.... perhaps things would be better in a different context... he went on to imagine the pretty waitress falling to her knees by his feet, in the murder mystery isle of the library, declaring her love and begging him to go out with her. His daydreams never involved him making the first move. He couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.

He looked down to his coffee cup. He wondered for the five hundredth time why she always gives him a take away cup. Surely she must know by now that he always stays in the cafe to finish his coffee? Why not give him one of the deep blue mugs that hang above the coffee machine? She hates me, he thought fiddling with the plastic lid, she gives me a take away cup because she wishes I wouldn’t hang around. She hates me. Deciding that his thoughts were unmistakably the truth, he stood up, pulled out the gun he kept in his inner jacket pocket, and shot her square in the head.

Snow White

2009-08-20T09:45:00.002+10:00

Today is a bad day. Today is the day I realised that life isn’t at all like a movie. In reality exciting things are rather rare and adventures even rarer. This morning it was raining and the umbrella I bought to replace my disintegrating old one, was locked away at school. I had no choice but to use my former, less caring, ‘umbrella.’ It looks identical to my new one, so I tend to call it the ‘evil twin’..... actually, I don’t, I just made that up then. I think the world must have a personal grudge against me, why else would it rain on the one day I didn’t have a whole umbrella. So, I was walking from the train station to school with the protection of half an umbrella above my head. I mean quite literally ‘half’ an umbrella, as it stays moderately stiff and umbrella-ish on one side and the other side simply droops down and dangles pointlessly from the stiff half. Well, not pointlessly, the dead half’s purpose is to tip the water collected from the solid half and drain it onto me and my bag (my little non-waterproof bag, which was a substitute for the normal bag I left at school along with the ‘good twin.’)
So I’m walking down the street, drench in rain, people are pointing and whispering at my mutated ‘umbrella’, I’ve ruined my non-existent reputation and I’m freezing cold because my blazer is also in my locker at school. Then it happened. The dead half of the umbrella swung down and hit me in the face. It didn’t hurt. But I cried. It was the strangest moment of my life. It took me a while to figure out why I was crying, but I came to this conclusion: this moment in my life was like the opening to a film, where they introduce the protagonist as having a bad day or possibly just as being an unlucky person in general, this film will involve the main character going on an adventure of some kind, falling in love, accomplishing things she never dreamed she could, finding out she’s magic and will finish with her walking down the same street on a sunny day with a big smile on her face. That won’t happen to me.
This somehow reminded me of fairytales (specifically, Disney princess fairytales) and so I thought I would share with you a more realistic ending to the Snow White film. The setting and time period remain the same:

Snow White was lying unconscious on a bed covered in rose petals. She had been in this state for quite a while now and the dwarfs were all very worried that she may never wake up again. They feared her to be dead. But, alas! Who should come galloping to her rescue but Prince Charming! He flung himself swiftly off his gallant steed and strode passionately to Snow White’s side. Upon kissing Snow White, she fluttered open her eyelids and sat up, her strength was miraculously back to normal.
“Are you alright?” asked the prince “do you need some water or something? I could dash back to the palace and get you some medicine?”
“You fool!” she hissed through closed teeth “you’re supposed to just sweep me off my feet and ride off with me into the sunset, so we can live happily ever after!”
“Oh. OK. Sorry. So do you want me to do that now then?” he asked, simply trying to give her what she wanted.
“No. You’ve ruined the moment now. Idiot. It’s supposed to be a spontaneous act of love. You’ve just stuffed the whole thing up by discussing it” she was now disgusted at his lack of spontaneity and could think of no way he could fix the situation.
“Spontaneous love? Do you love me?” Price Charming was astonished at the thought.
“You daft, dim witted moron” she replied calmly “only true loves kiss could have woken me up. We obviously love each other”
“I don’t even know you” argued the prince delicately “could we not get more acquainted first?” this last sentence enraged Snow White and she stood up from her coffin of a bed.
“This is just stupid. I’m going back inside. I’m sure the dwarfs will appreciate me more than you do” but she didn’t move.
“Alright. Well, I’ll see you around then..... er.... what was your name?”
“Snow White” she replied, almost in tears. He got back on his horse before she went on to say “we could try again” and then “I could pretend to be dying again and you could come and whisk me off to your kingdom in the hills”
“Look... I’ve actually got a lot of prince things to deal with at the moment. You know, ordering people to be beheaded, that kind of thing. I don’t really have time for all this” his horse was slowly trotting away with him.
“I can still come with you! You can do your prince stuff and I’ll do my princess stuff! We’ll both be busy but we can still be together. This is true love Prince Charming”
“Princess stuff?”
“Singing to birds. Knitting. Waiting for my prince to come.... oh, well that will have already happened. But I can do the other princess things”
“Fine. Whatever. Get on. I’m in a bit of a hurry” little did he know that this was the wrong thing to say
“Do you love me?” Snow White asked, realising that he may not
“I don’t know you!”
“But you kissed me!?”
“You were dying! I couldn’t just let you die!”
“You’ve messed everything up” Snow White concluded “if you aren’t capable of romantically sweeping me off my feet, then I’m just going back inside”
“Good!” he bellowed and galloped off into the distance. Snow White sat down and cried.

Murder Mystery

2009-08-05T17:54:00.001+10:00

The gate outside slammed heavily against the brick fence, the wind bustled amongst the moonlit leaves like an empty switched on blender and a delicate black cat arched her back before hastily tiptoeing away. So, now that we’ve set the scene for a place entirely devoid of the actual story, I feel it’s time we began..... Becky sat on a sopping wet towel, her moist legs enjoying the rays of warm sun that were beating down against her already tanned skin. A boy and what appeared to be his girlfriend were busy building a sand castle, laughing tipsily every time the waves washed their work away. Not far from the couple a little boy splashed his friends, one of which got salty water in their eye and raced ashore to report this to his all caring mother, who was reading a book under the shade of an umbrella rather close to Becky. A middle aged man jogged along the picturesque shoreline, looking happier than a squirrel with several hundred acorns in its possession. His large Border-collie dog bounded beside him looking, just when it were thought impossible, even more happy than the man. An odd looking women, dressed in black from head to toe, stood about three metres away from the water, staring blankly out to sea.
Becky heard a sudden shuffling come from the bushes behind her, and automatically spun around to see what it was, her sunglasses flying off in the process. The sun momentarily blinded her and by the time her eyes had adjusted, whatever she had heard, was gone. A bellowing scream came from the water, echoing across the beach and possibly right round to Sweden as well. Becky instantly stood up and squinted down towards the sea, she rushed down to the water as quickly as she could, so did the mother.
As Becky got nearer, she could see that the young women was standing knee deep in water, her boyfriend lying head down in the shallow water. Her hands were dripping with diluted blood, which Becky was surprised to find smelt of rusty iron. The sea around the boy was gradually becoming more and more dense with red, he was obviously still bleeding and bleeding a lot. The women had not stopped screaming. She howled continuously as if a giant penguin with razor blades for teeth was chasing her. Then she stopped. The noise ringed around Becky’s head even after the bellowing had seized. The women collapsed feebly onto the water.
The running man was shock frozen, several meters away from the dead couple. Yes, the dead COUPLE, meaning both halves of the couple were dead. Deceased. The two of them. The man and his girlfriend. Yes, the girlfriend as well. His dog barked furiously, tugging at his lead, trying to get a closer sniff of the action. The mother had gathered up the little boys and they stood together in a cluster, she failed to shield all of their eyes at once. The gothic women began to approach the ever growing pool of blood, she checked their pulses and turned to Becky “they’re dead” she whispered, and casually strolled off. Once the jogger realized that something ought to be done, he pulled out his phone, called the police and ambulance and that was the end of that.

Now it’s up to you! Solve the murder and you shall win the Luna Mooney Detective Prize. Good luck!
Hint: every little thing in this post can help you unravel the mystery of the deaths.

Children's Story

2009-07-22T19:00:00.001+10:00

Here is a little children’s story I whipped up when I couldn’t be bothered doing homework:

Matthew appeared to be an average boy. He was an average height, an average size, had average brown hair, lived in an average house with an average family, had an average pet dog, got average marks in all his average VCE subjects, brushed his teeth in the morning and afternoons (which is a fairly average thing to do) and he even ate his meals at the average time of day. But Matthew was anything but average.
At the beginning of high school the other boys were kind to him and welcomed him warmly into their lunch time conversations, but Matthew didn’t like wasting time talking about the latest computer games or how complicated maths class was getting, and so he turned down their offers of friendship and went on a mission to find someone more fun. He missed primary school profusely, he longed for a game of chasey, hide and seek, four square or British Bulldog, but mostly Matthew just wanted to play adventure games. At his old school the boys tended not to play imagination games and were more into running around or playing sport, so Matthew almost always played with the girls. There were no girls at his new school, but his older sister had wisely told him a few days before he finished primary school “when kids go to high school they stop playing games, Matt. No one runs around and no one plays adventure games. Everyone sits and talks” Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing
“What do they talk about?” he asked his all-knowing sister
“Boys” she sighed gloomily as if she was rather sick of talking about boys all the time. On his first day of high school Matthew soon realised that his sister had been right, everyone did sit and talk at play time. So he sat down with a friendly looking bunch of boys and said
“There’s a boy who works at the bakery near my house. His name’s George and he’s worked there for fifty years” the other boys stared at Matthew for a second or two and then burst into a flood of laughter. Matthew couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong, George was one of the most interesting boys he knew and if his sister had been right (and his sister was always right) then striking up a conversation about boys should have been a great way to start.
One afternoon Matthew’s sister had a friend over, her name was Clarissa and she was very pretty. Matthew told Clarissa all about his first day of high school and she laughed when he said “I don’t know why they didn’t want to talk about George, Phoebe told me that high school kids just talk about boys”
“Don’t be silly” she had said “boys don’t talk about boys.” This had made Matthew very confused, and it took him a whole two years of solitude to understand it. At the start of year 9 Matthew fell in love with Clarissa, he had never seen his sister’s best friend the way he did at the Christmas party that year. After a fairly awkward conversation with his mother, Matthew realised that he wasn’t ‘in love’ with Clarissa but was simply experiencing his ‘first crush.’ Apparently his mother had been waiting several years for this moment, Matthew blushed and promised himself he would never like another girl again. He had decided that girls were far too complicated (it had, after all, taken him two years to understand that girls talk about boys and boys talk about completely different things entirely.) He was still disappointed that girls, as well as boys, didn’t play adventure games anymore.
Another couple of years passed until Matthew entered his final year of school. He still hadn’t managed to make any friends, the other boys still just talked all the time and no one had signed Matthew’s “Adventure Game Players Club” poster, which he had pinned up on the notice board. He knew that he had been by himself for too long now to make any friends anyway, he had lasted five years alone, surely he could last just one more? But no, Matthew was tired of being called a ‘loner’ and wanted to fit in, so he went to his sister for help.
“I’ve decided that I want some friends”
“Is that right?” his sister replied, not looking up from her college report which was due in two weeks
“Yeah. I’m sick of spending lunch time and play time by myself”
“When will you stop calling recess ‘play time’ what are you, 5?”
“I wish” he mumbled under his breath
“Look” she said, putting her pen down and facing him “you can either be normal and get yourself some friends, or stay the way you are and..... pretend to have friends... whatever.” What Matthew’s sister hadn’t expected was that he would take ‘pretend to have friends’ incredibly seriously.
Matthew had a very productive holiday. On his first day of year 12 he walked to school with his new best friend: Archibald. Archie was a dashing young man and was in the same year as Matthew, luckily he was enrolled to start at the same school as Matthew, this made the two of them very happy indeed. Archie’s family was still living in the Himalayas and so Matthew let him stay at his place over the summer “we should find you a place to stay once school starts” Matthew had told his friend, but he knew that Archie would have no were to go and so added “you’re welcome to stay at my place until everything’s certain, of course.”
Archie was a lot of fun. He enthusiastically played adventure games with Matthew all through play time and lunch. They took all the same subjects, Archie was very smart and Matthew encouraged him to contribute to class discussions but Archie was simply too shy. One day Archie banged his leg rather hard on the teacher’s desk, but the nurse refused to treat him. Matthew was furious and stood up for his quite friend “this is because he’s from the Himalayas isn’t it!? You’re just a prejudiced old cow!” this bought Matthew a trip to the principal’s office.
“Archibald doesn’t fit in, just like me. He’s too different to play-I mean, talk- with the other boys. It’s bad enough that no one but me pays him any attention, and then the school nurse goes and refuses to fix his leg!”
“Matthew” began the principle, a concerned look had spread across his face “you’re far too old for imaginary friends. I’m going to recommend you see a good friend of mine, his name is Dr Carter, I think he might be able to help you” Matthew’s eyes widened, was the principle accusing him of being mad? “You’re a bright student, Matthew” he went on, flicking through what appeared to be Matthew’s files “but not very social, I see”
“I don’t want to be friends with any of the other boys!” Matthew sobbed “all I want to do is play the adventure games I used to play at primary school with the girls, but there are no girls here, and even if there were they would just sit and talk about boys” the principle looked overwhelmed with confusion “but Archie’s different” Matthew continued “he doesn’t tease me for calling recess ‘play time’, he doesn’t laugh when I play in the playground on the way to school, he doesn’t judge me for wanting to escape this world and create my own, he’s always there for me and he always supports me” Matthew whipped back the tears which had uncontrollably streamed down his face “but most importantly” he paused to swallow down some tears “Archie misses playing games as well.” There was an intense silence as the principle absorbed all that had been said, Matthew concluded by saying “don’t call me mad. Don’t call Archie imaginary. Because, if you do, then I’ll go back to having no one.”

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

2009-07-19T17:07:00.001+10:00

“I have to do this!” Draco whimpers as he holds his wand at the ready towards a defenceless Dumbledore. “I have to do this!” I say to myself when I foolishly realise what a good idea it would be to write a Half-Blood Prince review, almost a week after actually seeing the film.
If you’re reading this then you’re either one of my many(~) blog readers or you typed ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince film review’ into Google and read so many reviews that you’ve now reached page 14 where this little blog post was waiting for you. This means you would have read a lot of other opinions and are looking for something new, if you’ve stumbled across my blog in a desperate attempt to find more things Harry Potter then you’ve also probably seen the film. So, I won’t try and hide important climax’ or sensor anything. I actually already wrote a page long review for a friend and that was only describing the first half hour, so it will be tricky to narrow this review down to an internet browser friendly length. I shall try my best:

1. If you haven’t seen the film, watch out for the Hogwarts Express. Everyone I know who has seen it didn’t notice, but the train seems to have lost its magic. In the other films the Hogwarts Express is a shiny, bright crimson, in this film it’s a faded red. It’s almost as if the film makers misplaced the old train (as trains are very easy things to lose~) and had to make do with spray painting an average train from the undergrounds of London... although the trains in London are double deckers. It was like they were amateurs trying to mimic the Hogwarts Express of the first films. Why on earth would we care about your dislike towards the new Hogwarts Express? You may ask. I might ask myself the same question.

2. Lupin and Tonks. Being the Lupin fan that I am, I was glad to find that my favourite sub plot of the book was one of the main focuses of the film ~. Throughout the book we are given clues as to why Tonks has undergone a personality change (from her optimistic, fun self to something quite the opposite.)Tonks features heavily in the novel and even shows up at Hogwarts a few times. In the end we find out that Tonks loves Lupin and has been upset because he claims he’s ‘too old, too poor and too dangerous’ for her. In the film Tonks and Lupin appear for about five minutes, within those five minutes Tonks calls him ‘sweetheart’ and we are to assume they’re together. Never mind, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of the couple in The Deathly Hallows, just as we saw plenty of Bill and Fleur in this one ~.

3. Draco Malfoy. I must say that I thought Tom Felton was the standout actor of this film, having said that I should mention that I’ve never been a fan of his (just in case you thought I was being biased), he’s always been one of my least favourite characters and I never really thought a great deal for or against Tom Felton’s acting. I wasn’t expecting a lot from him and was surprised by how much I liked Malfoy in this film. I think I’ll go as far as to say that he was better in the film than in the book. Maybe not ‘better’ but I certainly felt sorrier for him in the film. For example: in the book when Harry uses Sectumsempra against Malfoy, I was more concerned that Sectumsempra was an unexpectedly dark spell for the Half-Blood Prince, in the film I was more concerned for the welfare of Malfoy and was actually kind of glad that Sectumsempra wasn’t as extreme as it is in the book. Of all the humorous lines and magical moments, my favourite part of the film was the look on Malfoy’s face when Bellatrix all but obliterated the Great Hall.

4. Several people in this world will roll their eyes when they read the next few sentences. Why was Neville’s role so incredibly small? He was little more than an extra.
“Good luck at the game, Ron!”
“Drink, Harry?.... I didn’t get into the Slug Club, but it’s alright.”
And that was it for the wonderful Matthew Lewis and his great acting (note that there is no ~ at the end of that sentence.) They gave Luna a lot of bonus camera time though, which was nice even though sometimes she appeared only to fill in for the disregarded Tonks.

5. I fully accept the change of script in regards to the cabinet. I think that telling the audience that it was a cabinet from the beginning and exposing its purpose gradually, served as a good way to adapt this part of the story into film. By doing this we didn’t have to watch Harry trying to get into the room of requirements again and again and we had some visual stimulus to keep us guessing and thinking about what Malfoy was up to.

6. Harry and Ginny. “You’re shoelace” she says and then bends down to tie it up for him “Merry Christmas” she adds “thankyou Ginny, I’ve always wanted someone to do up my shoelace for Christmas, you must have found that Christmas list of mine I left lying around.” The pause between Ginny’s ‘Merry Christmas’ and when she leans in to kiss him was a little long and made several people in the cinema laugh.

7. And then there’s Dumbledore’s death. I can imagine Alan Rickman (Snape) spending hours in front of his bathroom mirror practising the Avada Kedavra that sends Dumbledore to his end. Holding his toothbrush at the ready and shouting the killing curse at his reflection. Unfortunately, I actually did imagine this at the moment of Dumbledore’s death, as he fell from the tower I wasn’t thinking ‘this is sad’ or ‘Michael Gambon seems to be pulling this off alright’ I was thinking ‘Alan Rickman must have tried a million different ways of saying that.’ Anyway, you’ve probably had enough of my odd little so called ‘reviews,’ but I do need to mention how nonsensical I thought it was that Harry wasn’t under his invisibility cloak and/or paralysed when Dumbledore died. The words of Dumbledore (“It is imperative that you stay hidden, Harry. Trust me”) was the only thing stopping Harry from saving his headmaster and good friends’ life. Knowing Harry (which of course I do, as I’ve met him numerous times ~) he would have tried with all his might to save Dumbledore’s life, regardless of a few words of caution and Snape saying “shh.” I think it was a fair enough decision to dispose of Dumbledore immobilising Harry, but when Snape came across Harry in hiding, it would have been a perfect moment for Snape to simply say Pertificus Totalus so that there would be no one standing in his way as he finished of what Malfoy couldn’t.

8. The credits. Who cares about the credits? I do. I was just wondering how they decide who gets to go before who in the credits at the end of the film. One at a time the names of the actors appear on the screen: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Helena Bonham Carter, some other adult actors who are barely in it including David Thewlis and then Tom Felton’s name pops up onto the screen accompanied by some other, virtually unknown, actor. Why does David Thewlis’ name get to be shown before Tom Felton’s? I’m a bit of a David Thewlis fan, so this isn’t a biased comment. Malfoy features way more than Lupin, and Tom Felton’s name wasn’t even by itself. I considered that they may show the names alphabetically after the main three, but then Thewlis wouldn’t have come before Felton. I think they show the more famous actors first. You don’t care? I didn’t expect you would.

~

2009-07-17T18:03:00.002+10:00

I’ve often wondered what the function of the squiggly key is. I mean, every day I see a little ~ staring up at me longingly from my keyboard, and I’ve never even bothered to ask someone what it does. Maybe you know. Maybe you think I’m an ignorant fool for not knowing. Maybe this is much like me not knowing who Cameron Diaz is, the name is awfully familiar but I can’t put a face to it. I’m thinking there must be some people out there, however, who have no idea what the ~ does, so here is some reliable Wikipedia knowledge on the ~’s function:

- Is called a ‘tilde’ and not a ‘squiggly key.’
- Can be used to mark the omission of a word or the abbreviation of a word.
- “Has acquired a number of other uses as a diacritic mark or a character in its own right” (Wikipedia) which I presume means squiggly admirers stood out on the street holding signs and chanting ‘equal rights for squiggly keys.’ Which must have lead to some kind of compromise involving squiggly’s becoming their own little characters.
- Also used in maths to symbolise ‘to,’ ‘and greater’ and ‘equivalence.’
- It also has some other functions like in economics and for computer stuff.
Examples: 12~15 (12 to 15), 100~ (100 and great), x~y (x is equivalent to y.)

So, possibly that bored you a bit, but I thought you should know its actual function before I introduce the squiggly key’s new and improved role. I think we should use this neglected button as a symbol of sarcasm. For example: what are you talking about Luna!? I always comment your blog ~.

This will allow internet users to more openly use sarcasm while talking on MSN or even just sending an email, because they won’t have to worry about the recipient not picking up their sarcasm. For example: yeah, I thought Bruno was great ~. If there was no squiggly symbol then the person may reply: you liked it too! We should go see it again together! This will just be awkward when the Bruno hater has to explain that they were actually being sarcastic. Of course, in the first place they could have said: I didn’t like Bruno much at all. But that covers their actual personality because in reality they would have used a sarcastic tone to express their dislike.

I know it will be a near impossible task to get the whole world in on the new squiggly function, but if we start with the 3 (if I’m lucky) people who read this post then that’s one step closer to ~ = sarcasm, success!

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tilde#Tilde_with_keyboards

The White Room

2009-07-13T17:43:00.005+10:00

Nobody understood. Nobody knew why. But they went along with it all the same.

Mr Bones poked his head out of the classroom door, and watched Lucy run away until she turned a corner and was gone. It wasn’t until she was completely out of sight that Mr Bones noticed Matthew was glaring at him suspiciously, he gave the untrusting student a polite grin before closing the door and heading back to the classroom desk. A sudden realisation of exhaustion hit Mr Bones and he sank into his chair, took a deep breath and was once again lost in daydreams. He pictured Lucy’s blood loss causing her to pass out on the way to her next lesson, Mrs Proshore distressed that one of her students had been rushed to hospital while under her head supervision and then, most uncontrollably, rows of teachers and students sittings in their black suits and dresses bidding Lucy farewell at her funeral.
Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger (as if this might just eliminate the distressing image from his mind) Mr Bones remembered that there was still a splash of blood near his classroom door, grabbed several tissues from the box on the corner of his desk, and went to wipe up the shining red liquid he could now see in the distance. He bent down by the door and started mopping up the small pool of blood, to his annoyance the tissues couldn’t withstand the thick consistency and blood oozed beyond the disintegrating tissues onto Mr Bones’ fingers.
At this moment the blinds on the opposite side of the classroom slapped shut of their own accord, and the lights flickered drowsily until the room was completely black. Mr Bones felt a gush of wind swoop by his face, and attempted to stand up but was overcome by his own sudden, unexplainable weakness. A flash of what appeared to be a streamer of blue light whizzed by, followed by the quickly building sound of two knifes being scrapped together. Panicking, Mr Bones lifted his arm and felt around for the light switch which he knew too well was on the wall behind him. The weight of a hundred pounds seemed to be pressing on his arm, and he couldn’t continue his hunt for the light switch. A ladies’ scream filled the pitch black room, almost ghostly and other worldly as if it was coming from a radio. There was a spark of electric green, which illuminated the entire room for a millisecond, but it was over too quickly and Mr Bones caught no sight of another person. The scraping knife sound was now dominating the room, the air was boiling hot and humid, Mr Bones barely noticed that his shirt was drenched in sweat.
For as long as the last flash of light had lasted, Mr Bones could see Lucy standing metres away from him, he didn’t even wonder how he could see her in the dense blackness, he was too distracted by her mutated face which was covered in deep, unhealed scratches. A flap of skin dangled oddly from her cheek, revealing a pair of blood covered molars. The sound of scraping knifes reached an ear piercing volume and Mr Bones lost control of his body, he collapsed to the floor and a beam of yellow sparkles sent him off into a dreamless sleep.

***
Before he fathomed the aches in his muscles and his new location, Mr Bones lay on his back building up some energy to open his eyes. The light touch of something wet and cool on his forehead, alerted him enough to flicker his eyes open. At first his vision was far too foggy for anything he could see to be properly processed, he blinked continuously trying to focus on what he figured was a face in front of him.
“Lucy?” he mumbled, his throat far drier and croakier than he had anticipated. He managed to steady his sight enough to make out the blonde wavy hair and delicately pale face of Lucy.
“Shh” she whispered, dabbing a wet cloth on his head “you have to rest.” Her face was perfectly normal, there was no trace of the deep gashes. Mr Bones was far too uncertain of the current situation to obey his pupil’s considerate orders, and heaved himself into a sitting position. They were in a white room just big enough to fit the small bed he was now sitting in, there were no windows and the roof was so low Mr Bones knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up. There was a clinical feel to the room, and a smell which ignited memories of injections.
“Where am I?” he asked, aware of how cliché the question sounded
“Don’t worry about that” Lucy insisted before quickly changing the subject “you really need to rest.” The blood marks on her neck also appeared to have vanished completely, Mr Bones tilted his head to try and find at least a scar. Lucy coughed slightly and Mr Bones apologised.
“I have to get back to the school” he told her “I have a class to teach in period 4”
“It’s well past midnight, Mr Bones” Lucy notified him with concern. He swung his legs out of the bed and pushed passed Lucy, who was kneeling on the floor beside him. He bumped his head trying to stand up, confirming his original judgement of the height of the ceiling. For a moment Mr Bones was greatly disturbed by the fact that there was no door, he began to feel incredibly claustrophobic and found himself sitting back down on the bed.
“How do I get out of here” he demanded, looking Lucy square in the eyes. She directed her gaze to the ceiling and Mr Bones followed her line of vision, there was a trap door on the roof. “Do you want to tell me where we are before I leave” he suggested angrily while trying to pull down the hatch.
“I have to talk to you” Lucy whispered, her bright blue eyes full of worry. Something in her aggrieved tone made Mr Bones stop trying to escape and sit back down.
“I think you have a fair bit of explaining to do” he said with a grin, trying to make light of the situation.

Onegin

2009-07-09T21:50:00.001+10:00

I just finished watching a film, it was called ‘Onegin’ which I personally think was a bad decision for the title, Onegin is the protagonists last name which is rarely ever said and has little relevance to anything except, obviously, his identity. The cover of the DVD claims this film to be “a timeless masterpiece of love and obsession.” By ‘timeless’ I can only assume they mean ‘drags-on-for-102 minutes-when-the-same-story-could-be-told-in-5’ and by ‘masterpiece’ they must be referring solely to Liv Tyler’s acting, which was undeniably the best thing about Onegin.

The plot is: a man moves to the country and meets a pretty girl. The girl loves the man but he doesn’t love her back. The man travels the world for six years and then comes back. The man loves the girl but the girl is married. The end.

You may be thinking by my summary that the majority of the film focuses on the man’s six year voyage, this is not the case, his trip lasts literally no time at all and is only known because of a rather blunt comment by one of the characters: “Evgeny went on a six year trip, he’s back now. Isn’t that right mother?” and so that still leaves one hundred and two minutes and fifty nine seconds (note that the time is written in words so that it feels longer) devoted to drawn out shots of the girl walking around her house gloomily. The objective of the film is to make the audience wish for the two characters to end up together, because we sit there for 1 hour and 42 minutes watching two depressed people moping around in full knowledge that the sulkiness would stop if only they loved each other... at the same time.

The film begins in the perspective of Evengy Onegin, a nineteenth century man from the city who goes to visit his sick uncle. Upon arriving at the country Evengy finds his uncle is actually already dead, but skips the grieving phase (as that would add too much drain to the film) and skips straight to celebrating the fact that his uncle’s rather big house, is now his.
As Evengy is working out some important inheritance matters, he notices a girl with long dark brown hair talking to someone outside in the distance. At the moment of seeing the girl, he makes the hasty decision to stay in the country as opposed to returning back to his home in the city. Evengy then goes exploring his new home village, finds a man singing in the woods and shoots him.... oh, sorry.... that’s threatens to shoot him. Naturally, the two become great friends. This friend (whose name I don’t remember, mainly because I don’t care) just so happens to be engaged to the girls older sister, excellent coincidence for Evengy, it’s at this point we thank god he didn’t shoot the friend earlier. Maybe I’ll just run you through the scene were Evengy first meets this man:

Friend (has back to Evengy and is singing in the forest): la la la

Evengy (aims his rifle just above the man’s head and shoots): BANG! (which is a noise made by the gun, not by Evengy himself.)

Friend: are you trying to shoot me?Evengy: you’re poaching! Get off my land!

Friend: I always hunt here..... oh..... you must be the new owner of the land. I always go hunting in this forest. Are you going to shoot me?

Evengy: yes.

Friend: .....

Evengy: do you want to go get some lunch?

Friend: then are you going to shoot me?

Evengy: only if you are dull.

And thus begins a wonderful friendship, based on fear and threats. Anyway, Evengy ends up going back to the friend’s house. He is asked to wait in a room, we watch him fiddle with a piece of silver for about three minutes so we can feel the same drawn out boredom he feels while he waits. Once the three minutes of intense, edge of your seat action is over.... we meet Tatyana for the first time. She slides open a door, stares at Evengy for a good two minutes, Evengy says “how do you do” and then she runs away.
Conversation is thick that night at dinner, opinions are shared and all get to know Evengy. Tatyana remains a voiceless beauty until the end of dinner when she makes a single comment, which is followed by her mother saying “Tatyana! You have the oddest ideas!” which does a good job of shutting her up again.

We then begin to view the film from Tatyana’s point of view. She has a fever and cannot sleep because her grandma predicted her an undesired future “you will marry a soldier.” We watch Tatyana walk around the house all night, it was obvious the film makers wanted us to watch her entire sleepless night in real time but had to cut it down a little to fit into the acceptable length of a feature film. We discover the source of her insomnia is love sickness, as she writes Evengy a wordy page long letter which says ‘I love you.’ We see the whole thing being written, but are kept in high suspense for five minutes as they won’t show us what she’s writing (although they could have made it more interesting by not showing us the words “I love you” and “dear Evengy” at the beginning of this five minute suspense filled scene.)
Evengy receives the letter and immediately throws it in the fire. He then takes the letter out of the fire and puts it on his desk instead.
At a party Tatyana and Evengy discuss the letter:

Evengy: thank you for the letter. I admired it.
He hands her back the letter.

Tatyana: keep it. It is yours.
He begrudgingly puts the letter back into his pocket.

Tatyana: you admired it?

Evengy: yes. I thought you wrote very intelligently and the use of punctuation was to be commended.

Tatyana: but do you return my feelings?

Evengy: what?

Tatyana: do you love me?

Evengy: Oh...actually, I am not capable of love. You’re senses are strong but your perception is nonexistent.

That same night, back at the party, Evengy innocently asks his friend’s fiancé to dance with him. The friend starts to emit smoke from his ears, and cuts in on the dance “oh, please can we keep dancing!” demands the fiancé and so, to the friends annoyance, Evengy and the fiancé finish the dance.

Friend: why did you do that!?Evengy: what?

Friend: WHY DID YOU SEDUCE MY FIANCE!?

Evengy: I didn’t mean to. She is young, foolish and ...... easy.

Naturally, the friend wanted to battle Evengy to the death for ‘dishonouring the women I love.’ And so, now for the best part of the film (no sarcasm): the gun shooting on the peer beside the windmill. Evengy ends up winning this duel and shoots his friend in the head, a rather MA moment for an M film, I must say. Unfortunately this scene went for a very short time compared to the next scene: a very lengthy shot of Tatyana’s face.

We blink and then Evengy has gone on a six year journey around the world and is back again. When he sees Tatyana again he falls in love, so he writes her a letter telling her this. Luckily, after six years, she remembers him.... but none the less, throws his letter in the fire.
Tatyana stands gently stroking her pet monkey, which is dressed in a regal red outfit. Her husband (yes, she married someone else in that six year blink) touches her arm:

Husband: you are cold

Tatyana: yes, I am

Husband: ...... goodnight then.
And he walks away leaving her shivering on the cold stone floor. Evengy comes along:

Evengy: did you get my letter?

Tatyana: why have you come? I wish you to leave.

Evengy: I cannot. I love you.

He then gets on his knees and holds her hands, she cries.

Evengy: do you love me?Tatyana: I did once... a long time ago. You broke my heart.

Evengy: is it still broken!?
He asks hopefully, a wicked Voldemort like tinge in his eye, as she pours out floods of tears.

Evengy: it is isn’t it!? You’re heart is still hurting!?.... tell me you love me. Even if it’s a lie.

Tatyana: I love you.

Evengy: great. Awesome. OK.

As an audience we can never be 100% certain whether she lied or not. She then tells him he’s too late because she doesn’t want to be unfaithful to her husband.
Later, Evengy is sitting outside by himself at a table, his servant comes out and says “may I suggest you come inside, sir? It’s very cold out” and Evengy says “I like the cold” and the end credits role. An ending rich of meaning indeed.

Lonely Heart

2009-06-30T12:42:00.002+10:00

The other day I came home by train from my friend’s birthday party. It was later than 6.30pm and I was alone. I would have been fairly scared, if it wasn’t for the novelty that I was reading Harry Potter whilst waiting for a train on a bench in the middle of platforms 9 and 10. Anyway, when I got home there was an unexpected email awaiting me in my junk mail folder. The subject was titled ‘Lonely Heart’:

Privet, my dear friend!
Do you love me because I am beautiful or am I beautiful because I am loved?
I'm an affectionate, tender, kind, romantic woman; enjoy cooking, home cosiness, active rest. I have a lot to give to the right man - serious, caring, who needs a good relationship. I am looking for someone easy going with a great sense of humour and ability to laugh at life and love it. I believe in physical attraction and intellectual connection and mutual trust. I am looking for a man who is refined in his manners, intellectual, cultured, ready to please his lady, responsible for his family and generous. I can respect a man only if he follows his words. I am looking for a man who can take care of me and find a good solution in a stressful situation.
Have a good mood
Mari

I suggested to my new friend Mari that she try emailing men instead of 18 year old girls like myself before clicking on the website she had left me: http://love-and-talks.com/sweetkiss/
It says:

Maria K.
Age 28 years
oldAge range of man: 25-50 y.o.
My Languages: Russian, Engish, French
I would like to meet an attractive man, witha good sense of humour. I think that honestyand decency are very important qualities. Iwould like to find an active and optimisticperson, who enjoys his life, who never giveup. A man of my dream is intelligent, nice andfriendly, he behaves like a gentlemen andtreats people with respect. I also think thata man should possess such a quality as loyalty.I would like to meet an understanding person.and of course my ideal man is a reliable one..

I figure ‘Engish’ isn’t her first language, so I won’t make fun of her wishing me to ‘have a good mood.’ What I want to know is why a 28 year old ‘affectionate, tender, kind, romantic woman’ who (if you go to her site) is actually very pretty, has come to a point where she has to advertise herself on the internet in order to find the ‘man of [her] dream.’ So then I thought maybe she’s just really pedantic and turns everyone down…. perhaps she is waiting for someone who fills all of the requirements she mentioned. It’s probably just me, but if you’re so desperate to find love that you email complete strangers hoping to get something out of it, then why can’t she go out into the street and strike up a conversation with someone. I think that people who do things like internet speed dating just need to go out into the world and live some more.

Geni

2009-06-24T17:50:00.006+10:00

Recently my pet stick insect passed away. Parthenogenic or Geni for short (named after her method of reproduction: parthenogenesis) was a good friend and helped me get through exams, so I wanted to dedicate this post to the much missed bug. The cause of her death is still less than obvious as she was supplied with adequate amounts of food and water. Some suggest that she died from an overload of love.... I can’t argue against this theory. Maybe she couldn’t cope with our ‘quality time sessions’ and the tours of my bedroom I gave her. Possibly Geni wasn’t prepared to be loved as she was, the countless hours spent hanging out on my hand and on my desk as I studied Biology may have been too much for the delicate twig like animal.
I remember the first time I met Geni, after I mistook her tale for a head we got along smashingly. Ah, that first time I gazed into her branchy eyes.... I knew we would be the best of companions.

You may not be aware, but stick insects have a tendency to spread their moth-like wings and fly up to half a metre away, causing their owners to squeal in surprise. She flew only once in my presence... I think that was the time I was patting her too hard (again, too much love) and there was another time when I took a lunch break from studying and accidently left her unattended and out of her cage. I came back to find her on the wall opposite my desk.
Geni spent her days regulating her temperature whilst pretending to be a stick (a talent I was very proud of.) She loved eating gum leaves and laying eggs. During the time I knew her, Geni laid about 20 eggs, which will all hatch in 18 months and I shall have 20 miniature Geni clones because, as I mentioned earlier, she reproduces by parthenogenesis. Should she have stumbled across a boy stick in her short life, then Geni could have laid non-clone eggs. But she never got the chance to meet a boy stick... she never even got to live the full year of her life span.
I will never forget the way she glanced up at me with her legs waving chaotically in the air, she always knew just how to cheer me up. Her company alone was enough to help me study affectively, of course she didn’t appreciate it when I mistook her for a pencil, but she laughed it off and we got over that small mound in our relationship.
I was determined to look after Geni with lots of care and love because my previous pets (Brie and Feta, who were mice) died from neglect, and I wanted anything but the same fate for Geni. Unfortunately, the complete opposite of neglect also kills pets, especially ones which are more delicate than the twigs in your backyard.
Most people were either scared of Geni or thought she was weird.... or that I was weird for owning her. My cousins, uncle and auntie all jumped across the room in panic when I first introduced them to my new pet. Geni was rather offended, but we had a little chat and eventually she understood the uncontrollable discrimination she would have to face in the human world. Even more insulting to Geni was my grandmas first comment upon meeting her
“It isn’t alive is it?”
“Of course she is. She’s a stick insect”
“Oh! It’s creepy!”
It took me a while to calm Geni down, her dry/soundless/somewhat invisible and nonexistent tears sent shards through my heart, but we got through it together.
There were times when Geni would be unwinding and just taking it easy on my hand, when my imagination would get the better of me and visions of Geni crawling up through my noise and eating my brain would cross my thoughts.... but she taught me that fear is all in the mind and even the weakest of people can overcome their darkest fears just by changing their mind set. She also taught me that persistence and focus are crucial in preparing for exams, it was with her assistance that I managed to get through exam period.
After only three months of life – the final month of which I was honoured enough to have known her- Geni fell ill. I had been on the train reading ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,’ which I had just borrowed from the school library because I – disappointingly - don’t possess a copy of my own. I was eager to tell Geni all about Lupin and the others, who aren’t as important to name. But she wasn’t acting herself. Usually she perches herself amongst the actual sticks, attempting (almost always successfully) to blend in with her look-alikes, but on this particular day (Friday the 19th) she was at the bottom of her fish tank (which we like to pretend is a proper stick insect cage) and her legs were in awkward positions. She wasn’t even trying to camouflage herself. So I called the doctor and he rushed around with his black bag and stethoscope and fixed Geni up.... oh, wait... I’ve mixed up reality with the story I told myself whilst going through the denial stage after Geni’s death.
In a tangle of her own limbs, Geni struggled through her final hours. I did all I could: provided her with more water, placed her under a warm lamp, whispered comforting condolences in her ear etc. But her health continued to deteriorate and a positive outcome began to look unlikely. As she lay on her death bed, I held her little hand and played the song ‘Second Chance’ by the band Shinedown, because even though I don’t own the song and had to play it off Youtube, I knew it would help her. Because of her love for being as still as physically possible, it’s hard to tell the exact minute she died. But I can safely assume that when her head was no longer supported by her front legs, and she no longer responded to my loving touches, was when she bid the world a last farewell. Of all the ways to die, I think an abundance of love is a pretty nice way to go.

Goodbye Geni, you were more than a pet, you were a friend.

Mr Bones... Returns

2009-06-19T18:26:00.004+10:00

Here’s another part of that story about Mr Bones, his missing belongings and the tearful Lucy. There are two other segments to the story (which I posted earlier.) I haven’t written anything in a while because I’ve had exams, I would have posted something yesterday... but I decided to watch Harry Potter instead. I have plenty of spare time now, so I shall aim to write more for the overwhelmingly huge number of people who read this blog.

Nobody understood. Nobody knew why. But they went along with it all the same.

Mr Bones puzzled over the blood marks on Lucy’s neck with such deep thought, that it wasn’t until his entire class had filed into the room, and someone gave a suggestive cough, that he leapt back from Lucy’s grasp. He realised instantly that the embrace would have been less conspicuous, should he have decided to continue hugging Lucy, making it clear to everyone right then and there that he had nothing to hide. But as reflexes would have it, Mr Bones was now standing with his hands in the air as if someone had walked in with a gun. Lucy looked at him questioningly and a student theatrically commented “Mr Bones is having an affair with Lucy!” It was at this point that Mr Bones lowered his hands, massaged his eyebrows and then looked to address the class as a whole
“Listen-” he began.
“Lucy’s crying!” someone shouted, which ignited overlapping exclamations from various class members
“He made her cry!”
“Mr Bones is a sicko!”
“I trusted him!”
Before long the class was hysterical and no one appeared to be opting for Mr Bones.
“Quiet!” he ordered his class, noting that this was the first time he had ever raised his voice during a lesson. “If you let me explain-” but he was cut off by Matthew Parkins, one of Mr Bones A grade students
“We want to hear Lucy’s explanation!” Matthew demanded, and the class supported this statement with an infuriated roar of cheers. The room went silent. Mr Bones followed everyone’s eyes to Lucy, unsure if he too should be looking at her. Scared as she seemed, Lucy took a slight step forward and tried to explain the situation
“Mr Bones did nothing wrong. It was me. I was crying and he was just trying to help.” Her sentences were far clearer than Mr Bones anticipated after her crying episode seconds ago. The class remained silent. Some looked apologetically at Mr Bones, others were unconvinced. But they all stayed quiet.
“Take your seats, and we’ll begin” Mr Bones instructed, trying to maintain the rage which accompanied the reality that his respect and trust in the class could be so easily broken. They shuffled around the rows of desks and took their usual places. Occasional whispers amongst friends and sceptical glares, delayed Mr Bones from beginning. It was more than evident that over half the class still hadn’t been fully clarified. No one communicated with Lucy, she looked excluded and alone.
“Do we need to discuss this further? Or can I start?” he asked rhetorically to try and silence them. Becky raised her hand, bringing everyone’s focus to the back of the class where she sat. Mr Bones looked at her, terrified of what she was about to say but acknowledging that it needed to be said
“Do we get our SACs back today?” Becky asked chirpily, helping Mr Bones out by changing the focus of conversation
“Of course!” he gratefully replied, before remembering that it isn’t possible to hand back tests which are missing
“What was the class average?” Matthew demanded, apparently still on edge
“It’s just come back to me that I don’t actually have your papers here-” Mr Bones began to apologise
“But you said-” interjected the usually reclusive Alice
“Yes, I know what I said. Look, I really am very sorry about your SACs. They went missing this morning, I think someone has stolen them” he reported. Mr Bones glanced down to Lucy, who had since stopped crying but was now three shades more pale than before. She looked up at Mr Bones with an expression of utter shock, surely she couldn’t be so distressed over not getting her work back? Mr Bones was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to continue looking at Lucy’s alarmed face any longer, without another outburst of accusations.

“Unless there are any questions” Mr Bones continued, trying to get the lesson underway “or problems” he directing his gaze to Lucy as subtly as he could, leaving a slight pause for her to speak up “.... then we’ll get started on the new chapter. If you could all please turn to page 69, “DNA, proteins and proteomes.”
Without further questioning of Mr Bones authority, the students did as they were told and listened with their usual level of focus for the rest of the lesson.
Eventually the bell sounded and he dismissed the class, before rubbing the black board clear with one of the tissues from the box he had earlier offered to Lucy. Before long everyone had shuffled their way out, except for Lucy, who hesitated to collect her books. She looked up with a similarly worried expression as before, went to say something, but decided to quickly rush for the door instead. Mr Bones was somewhat worried that she hadn’t regained any colour in her face
“Lucy” he called, and she stopped unwillingly, her hand poised on the door handle “if you wanted to go to sick bay, I can write a note for your next class’ teacher?” for a second he thought she was going to ignore him and open the door, but she took her hand off the handle and smiled
“No thanks. I’ll be fine” she tried to reassure him “and thanks for helping me before” she added, as if everything was perfectly alright now.
“Lucy! What’s that on your dress!?” Mr Bones exclaimed, noticing the left side of her collar was now soaked in blood, he swept over to her remembering the two blood marks on her neck.
“I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing” she splattered. A drop of blood fell to the floor near Mr Bones’ shoe as she dashed out the door.

First Post as an Adult

2009-05-27T18:01:00.003+10:00

I thought it would be mildy quirky to post my 27th blog of the year, on the 27th. I've been planning this for about a week. There really isn't much point to this post... I went to the video store this afternoon to rent and R18+ film (because I can) but dissapointingly enough, they didn't even ask how old I was.
It seemed like a good idea six days ago, now it just seems like a waste of cyberspace. Oh well.

Girlfriend

2009-05-19T21:05:00.013+10:00

So, I was reading a magazine the other day (I won't mention the name of the magazine, so that I don't directly upset anyone. But I'm hoping you will be clever enough to figure it out.... cough... the title.... cough....)
I must begin my saying that I wouldn't normally, voluntarily, read the aforementioned magazine. It was thrust upon me, as I was strolling down the street to the train station, and so it felt a waste to let this $5.70 worth of literary material go unread. Even when I was in my early years of teenager-hood I never read this particular magazine.... or really any magazine for that matter (I did, however, read the Disney magazine from time to time.) At first I was suspicious and searched the magazine for any hidden drugs or cameras, but I soon discovered that (on page 29) that there is an advertisement featuring a girl who goes to my school. She must have asked a friend of hers to give away these magazine, so that her new life as a model could be promoted and discussed around the school.
I read the entire thing on the train ride home. Of course, I skipped over the boring parts.... so, maybe it would be more accurate to say: I read a couple of pages of the entire thing. One page I did glance over was about my favourite actress, Isabel Lucas, who recently went to Japan and tried to intercept a Japanese whaling ship. One of the sentences in this article went as follows:

"It's that kinda determination and desire to fight for what she believes in that makes Isabel one of our fave it-girls"

I wasn't aware that the world had resorted to using "kinda" and "fave" in proper magazine articles. I suppose that's just me, you're probably all wondering what the big deal is. The big deal is this (page 45):

Lesson 4: perfecting the art of teen speak

plenty of shows demonstrate how to speak, therefore you can improve your English skills just by watching. Gossip Girl is the best show to learn the latest, coolest and all important acronyms that you can use in real life (except at school, coz teachers will think you're nuts.) A+ goes to those who can spend and entire day speaking in acronyms, it's an awesome skill to have, but can be slightly OTT.

This is pretty much saying that the correct way to speak should be mirroring that of TV shows like Gossip Girl (which I have never seen) or speaking completely in acronyms. "Teen speak?" sounds a bit too much like 1984's New-Speak.

Post #54

2009-05-17T21:09:00.002+10:00

I was just on some pet website, because I want a pet of some kind for my 18th birthday (which, in case you wanted to know, is on the 27th of May) and I was scrolling through a list of animals which they recommend and presumably sell. The list went like this:
Cats
Dogs
Fish
Reptiles
Beef
Hamsters
Birds
So I think for my birthday, I'll head down to their store and get myself a companionable piece of pet beef.

Bacteriophage

2009-05-10T13:07:00.003+10:00

For Biology homework this weekend I had to find a diagram of a bacteriophage (a virus that infects bacteria.) And I came across this photo of a "bacteriophage plush toy":

I just thought it was pretty funny that someone made a soft toy of a virus. Little boys and girls should be very excited to add this fluffy friend to their toy collection.

Mr Bones: Part 2

2009-04-25T12:03:00.003+10:00

A while ago I wrote the beginning of a short story, the post was called “Mr Bones.” I recommend reading it if you intend to read its continuation below.

Nobody understood. Nobody knew why. But they went along with it all the same.

Once he had frantically searched around the garden, Mr Bones stoped and stood exactly where his brief case and coat had been. For several minutes he stood completely still and silent, his eyes filled with anger and confusion as he thought solely of his missing possessions. Mr Bones was frozen for so long that his mind began to drift off, he managed to snap out of his uncalled for visions of lying on a beach, and bring himself back to the present dilemma. The awakening to reality prompted him to take action, he turned to search around the far side of the fountain again but decided instead to go back up to the school. Walking briskly to the principles’ office, Mr Bones felt like a schoolboy, he imagined himself making feeble attempts at covering up his careless action of leaving all the SACs unattended. ‘I turned around for a second, and when I looked back they were gone!’ but Mr Bones knew that he would end up telling the truth.
Metres away from Mrs Proshore’s office, Mr Bones inhaled deeply and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. After knocking three soft times, he heard the principle’s bitter chirp call him in.
“What can I do for you, Paul?” Mrs Proshore asked once he’d let himself into her office, suggesting she had little time to spare or that there were many other things she would rather be doing. He felt intimidated by her sharp features, her slick black hair was tied into a tight neat bun, not a single strand fell out of place.
“Well” he began “I believe a theft has occurred” he was instantly upset with his choice of words, but tried to maintain confidence in himself.
“I see” Mrs Proshore commented wearily, perhaps several other thefts had been reported that same morning. She rummaged through some papers, Mr Bones was almost certain they had nothing to do with him or thefts of any kind. Her silence lasted for longer than he could deal with.
“What should I do?” he prompted, keen to get some kind of response from her. She looked up as if she’d almost forgotten he was there and sighed.
“Well. That depends on what was stolen” whether or not Mr Bones answered seemed last on Mrs Proshore’s things-I-care-about list.
“My year 12 Biology SAC reports” he confessed in a breath.
“Right. Well then, that’s your problem. There’s obviously nothing I can do to help. I don’t support stealing but I don’t have the means to reverse it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to.... this” she continued with her apparently busy day, as if he had already left. Without saying a word, Mr Bones smiled in failure and walked away.
Never before had he been so uncertain of what to do. He didn’t know where to go or if (and therefore who) he should report his problem. Feeling somewhat awkward standing aimlessly outside the principles’ office, Mr Bones thoughtlessly decided to wait in his period 4 Biology classroom for the twenty minutes remaining of lunch. Slipping his hands into the pockets on the sides of his pants, he headed leisurely to level three. A sense of being followed radiated through Mr Bones, the eerily empty corridors began to send shivers up his arms, and a sudden impulsive drive forced Mr Bones into a jog. He was relieved to push open the class room door, and stood panting for several seconds, before he noticed another sound in the classroom he presumed would be empty.
Having completely forgot about Lucy and her tearful run by earlier, Mr Bones was surprised to see her sitting in her usual seat at the front of his class. He noticed she was sobbing quietly to herself. “Lucy?” he asked, the back of her natural blonde wavy hair was all he could see. She automatically stopped sniffling, whipped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned to face Mr Bones. She managed to contain her tears for less than a few seconds, before bursting into another round of weeping. Her face was sickly white, making her normal red lips even redder and her eyes were puffy pink from crying.
Being a considerate man who treated the welfare of his students with high regards, Mr Bones walked down the lab and sat next to Lucy, who had taken to putting her face in her hands. Without thinking he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, causing her to retract in a single bound, before Mr Bones knew it she was on the other side of the lab between the Bunsen burners of two working benches. “I didn’t mean to-” he began, but could find no words to explain himself. Evidently Lucy took this as a release of a threat because she let her stiff posture drop.
“Sorry” she apologised, and sat down on the floor between the lab benches. Mr Bones was now reluctant to try approaching her, so he stayed where he was and hoped that words could make her feel better.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, partly hoping that she would so that he could help. Lucy went to speak, but changed her mind and took a shaky, uneven breath in. “Maybe I could help?” he suggested. She looked up in what seemed like appreciation but shock her head sorrowfully. Mr Bones let her grieve in peace for a while, now there was nothing he could do but sit in the front row, observing his classroom from the reverse angle of what he was used to. Without forgetting about Lucy for even a millisecond, he fiddled with the end of his navy blue tie. Lucy’s loud breaths and soft sniffles echoed through the room.
“Do you-” began Lucy before an uncontrollable inhale of air overcame her “-have a tissue?” she asked like it would mean the world to her if he did. Mr Bones made the action of sliding his hand into his coat pocket to retrieve his packet of Kleenex Aloe Vera tissues but, offcourse, his coat was elsewhere. Feeling foolish for thinking he was wearing a jacket, Mr Bones cleared his throat and walked over to his desk, which faced the class. Knowing very well his own classroom, he opened up the third drawer from the bottom and took out a box of brand-less tissues. He felt as if he was ripping Lucy off, for he knew these tissues to be scratchy and far less ‘enjoyable’ to use than his missing Kleenex ones.
“Here” he said with a smile, and placed them on the corner of his desk closest to Lucy. He didn’t want to scare her again, so he walked away from his desk to give her enough personal space to take the tissues. She stumbled to get up, but eventually made it to the tissues and blew her noise dramatically loud.
“Thank you” she said sincerely, once she was done. Taking another tissue to wipe her eyes.
“Is there anything at all I can do to help?” Mr Bones offered, now a few paces away from the desk. Rather unexpectedly, Lucy dashed over to Mr Bones and wrapped her arms around him. Soaking his shirt with tears, she stood shaking. Mr Bones first thought was to push her away, but this was a special circumstance, and he felt somewhat fatherly as he placed his hands on her back and spoke quiet phrases such as “It’s OK” and “let it all out.” They stood like this for more than a minute.
Noticing Lucy’s hair was falling into her mouth, he caringly pushed it aside for her. Revealing two small, red circles of blood, one above the other like a snake bite, on her neck.

Happyville

2009-04-20T11:49:00.002+10:00

Here's a dream I had a couple of years ago. It's long and poorly written, but don't let that put you off reading it....

It was a lovely summer’s day in Happyville. The grass was healthy and green, the flowers were in full bloom. The houses were arranged perfectly along the street, the picket fences out the front were as white as snow. Children played merrily up and down the honey scented road, chasing the ice-cream van when it came around. No one was mowing their lawns today, it was Sunday, rest day. You could hear the bees buzzing and the birds singing their soothing song for the world to hear. The sound of laughter was about, but you could still sleep soundly if you wished. The flowers smelt sweater than any other flower I’d ever smelt, in fact I think this was the first place I had actually picked up a flowers and held it up to my nose. The feeling was pure and delicate.
I had been there before, but this time (like every other time I had came) it felt like a place that may not be the same next time you visit, so while I was in this place I cherished every little second. I had just come from an incredibly cold place so the heat there was almost unbearable, I wanted to go inside one of the houses to cool down but I knew that once I did this perfect street may not be the same when I got back.
My Auntie and my cousin live on that street. They’re very happy there. I couldn’t stay forever, the heat always becomes too much and I have to leave. Or maybe the happiness and the peace is too beautiful and I feel I don’t deserve it. Either way, I get to a stage of my visits at Happyville and I know I really must go. They all tell me to stay, but that just makes me realise how much I really ought to get going. “What if you never return?” my Aunties always asks as I go to leave “I always return” I reply each time as if it’s written somewhere I should say it, and she answers after a pause “what if it’s different when you return?” and then as if I was hit in the head with a stone I usually burst into tears. I know she’s right, and it’s my biggest fear. What if my favourite place in the world is different when I go back? But still, I leave.
On this particular day the heat hadn’t got to me just yet and I was enjoying my time as much as possible. It didn’t even pass my mind that I would be leaving this place, not that it passed my mind that I would stay forever. It just was, and there was no time involved. What time was it? What day was it? What year was it? I didn’t care less, I didn’t even think of it. If I knew I only had hours left in this place, maybe I wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much. Or maybe I would have enjoyed it even more, who knows.
Because my auntie and cousin live in Happyville they get free access to the local pool. The heat sometimes gets a little much for them too, but lucky they can just go to the cool pool around the corner and heal themselves. On this visit to Happyville I was heading to their house for a visit. But as it so happened they were out for a bit, having a swim.

I opened the picket fence and walked up the cobblestone footpath positioned in the exact centre of their front lawn, to the front door. I knocked three times and waited for an answer. My auntie’s partner opened the door, we greeted each other. And then before I asked he told me that my cousin and auntie were out. I didn’t ask how long they’d be and he didn’t tell me, time doesn’t exist in Happyville.
I went inside the house I thought I was very familiar with, but it seemed different on this day for some reason, I couldn’t pin point the difference for as soon as I walked into this new looking house I completely forgot what I had known it to be. It was a lot darker than outside, the curtains were shut to keep the cool in. There was no way of seeing the beautiful street outside unless you went back outside, there was also no way of knowing if it had become night time yet.
He gestured to a room at the end of an unfamiliar corridor and so I headed down, slightly scared, to the door only meters away. As I think back to this day I realise that I shouldn’t have gone into the room at the end of the corridor, in fact I shouldn’t have even knocked on the front door. I should have stayed out on the front lawn and enjoyed the sun until my auntie and cousin came home. But I had no way of knowing they weren’t in, and so I knocked, and I went into the room at the end of the corridor.
The room was large but there wasn’t much space. There were heaps of people, apparently waiting, in the room. Some were sitting, they had made themselves comfortable as someone would after waiting in the same place for a long time. Some were pacing around like they just couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t noisy but the people were all talking dully amongst themselves. As I entered the room not a single head looked up at me, I felt very alone. It seemed as though everyone in the room had at least one other person who they knew, who they could talk with and wait with. But I had no one, I had come alone.
It could have been hours later, or it could have been only minutes. When a man, whose face I can’t recall, came out from a door at the back of the room. It was exactly opposite the door I had entered the room through. He addressed the entire room, as he spoke everyone looked around “It’s time to get your injections now” he announced and at the time I wasn’t sure if he meant me as well. Everyone seemed to know that this was coming, perhaps this was what they were all waiting for. At this moment I completely forgot why I was in the room, I forgot that I was waiting for my auntie and cousin to come home, I forgot my aunties partner was just out the front. And so at this forgetful moment I believed that the injections were what I had been waiting for as well. Amongst the crowd I went through the door the man had come through.
It was a doctors. Beyond the door was a doctors. It wasn’t a hospital with long white corridors and the smell of curing drugs. It was a grey carpeted, fully operating doctors place. As we walked through the door it was like we were in a whole new building. Everyone cued up in a single filed line that lead into a mysterious room which everyone looked fairly familiar with. So I went to the back of the line, maybe there I could avoid getting an injection, but it just made the wait longer and the nerves worse. As the line got shorter my heart beat faster, my hands sweat and my mouth went dry. I seemed in much more of a mess than all the other people.
Why was there a doctors at the back of my aunties house any way? I couldn’t help wondering why a bunch of randoms were lined up to have injections at the back of my auntie’s house. It didn’t make much sense, and I hated not knowing. It scared me. I felt as though the reason was really obvious to everyone else there and if I asked them where they were from they would just laugh at me, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself let alone embarrass myself. So I went with the flow.
This place seemed as though at times it got really busy. There were a few more rooms than the one we were cued up to go into. There was a reception desk but there was no one behind it and it was all closed up. As the cue got shorter and shorter it seemed to get later and later, it wasn’t like me to be wondering what time it was in Happyville. Then I felt sick, sick by the thought that time didn’t matter here, because to me, all of a sudden, it really really did.
I was also incredibly worried by the fact that I hadn’t a clue what the injections were for, would it kill me? That was a bit full on, so I pushed that idea away. But I was still very scared. I began to find Happyville creepy, not just the doctors we were in now, but the outside too. I started to feel a slight eeriness about the perfectness of the place. The most perfect place on earth now scared me because it was too perfect. I had no desire to go back outside any more. The doctors had ruined Happyville, it would never be the same again.
But then, just when I was starting to get depressed and the most perfect place was no longer perfect. Someone realised how scared I looked, finally, someone noticed that I existed! I wasn’t invisible anymore! And it felt good. I was reading a poster blue tacked to the reception desk, trying to get some information about the injection I was going to get. It was useless. The boy in front of me could tell that I was worried and confused. “Don’t worry” he said, I was shocked that he was talking to me and jumped a little. It was embarrassing but he giggled it away lightly. “Me and my sister will go in before you” he said and then I noticed he was with a girl around his age, she had blonde hair and blue eyes just like him. I presumed they where twins, but I never asked. She was dressed very well and was stylish, she had white tips on her nails and her hair was obviously straightened recently. She wore silver high heals which made her the same height as her brother. Unlike her brother she seemed very edgy and anxious to go in, this was comforting, to know that me and at least one other where in the same boat. “She needs me in with her, if I didn’t go she’d be too scared” he told me, I wasn’t sure if he too was getting an injection or if he was only there to comfort her. I didn’t ask because I was still getting over the shock that someone in this place was not only talking to me, but being nice as well.
His sister was trying to get a word with him but he pushed her away because he was talking to me. “I’m Lucas” he said and held out his hand “Luna” I said and we shook. “If you like I can go in with you too, if that would make it easier” he wasn’t sure if I’d except his over, but I was all for it “that would be really nice” I said, and so it was settled. Him and his sister went into the room. I stood and waited in the foyer. Who knows how long I waited. Who cares, I wasn’t as scared any more. I was anxious to see how Lucas’ sister would come out. Dead. Happy. Bleeding. The suspense was killing me.
There wasn’t a single person in the doctors place any more. I was waiting all by myself. It was frightening. So I thought of Lucas and how he was only a door away. I longed for him to come back, so I could ask him what on earth was going on, so he could help me through this dark time. There was a silence in the foyer. I couldn’t hear a thing. So I strained my ears for just one little sound. A scream from the room Lucas and his sister were in, or voices through the door everyone had exited by. I strained my ears until I heard the ticking of a clock. It was coming from one of the rooms.
I headed slowly to the room, turned the knob and stepped in. I wanted to go back and make sure Lucas hadn’t come out but I was dying to know the time. I looked around the room. It was a high school classroom. Completely empty. The shutters were shut and a pink light was coming through them as if it were sunrise or sunset outside. I now had a very strong desire to get back to reality, to find the time. I looked passed the lined up rows of desks and chairs and above the clear white board. There was a clock. It was ticking loudly now. Louder than before. I started at it for ages, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t read it. I had lost the ability to read time. I ran out of the room and back to the foyer. I was scared.
I stood and waited for Lucas. I thought of how kind he had been. He was the only one who could tell that I was lost and unsure. She had tears in her eyes and her makeup was smudged as she came out, her brother close behind trying to make her feel better. She pushed him away, put her hand to her mouth and ran (as fast as possible in high heals) out of the foyer, and out of our sight.
“Everything will be alright” Lucas said to me, I was staring at the door his sister had left and I couldn’t take my eyes of it. I eventually turned away from it and faced him, his hand was held out and he said again with more emphasise “You’re going to be fine.” I walked slowly and unsurely towards him and took his hand in mine “that’s the way” he said calmly. He opened the door and hand in hand I went in after him.
The room was like a doctors office, not a proper place to be injected. It was personalised to suit the doctors tastes. This wasn’t a positive thing, the paintings and office like desk made the room seem too much like an ordinary study. In contrast the man who was standing in the room wore a white coat, much like the ones I was familiar with general doctors wearing. He began to put a yellow liquid into a needle. The needle was long and very pointy, I realised at this point that on previous visits to the doctors to get injections, I had never looked at the actual needle. So I couldn’t compare this one with ones I had had before, this worried me. Was it a normal injection?
“Take a seat” he said gesturing to a leather couch which faced a fire place. I looked at Lucas questioningly and he nodded, he reassured me that everything would be alright. His hand still in mine, we walked over and sat down on the couch. Sitting on leather couches when it’s really hot, is rather uncomfortable, and you never feel as though you shouldn’t be doing it. I was sure that I shouldn’t be sure about anything.
I couldn’t stop looking at the doctor, who was sterilizing and preparing my injection. Lucas put his fingers on my chin and turned my head so I was facing him, I looked him in the eye and he whispered “There’s nothing to worry about” he nodded and I nodded back. It was obvious his words hadn’t completely turned me around, I was very anxious.
My eyes never left Lucas’, the pointy metal pierced my skin, and liquid poured into my body. Lucas squeezed my hand tighter as my face expressed utter pain. It felt like it stayed in me for ages and ages and it wasn’t until Lucas let go of my hand, patted me on the shoulder and said “It’s all over, you did it” that I realised the needle was out.
I stood up and headed out the door. I didn’t look back at the doctor. I thought Lucas was right behind me, but he wasn’t. He never left the room with me. I knew now that I had done what I had to do. It was my life and I didn’t have to find the crowd of people and wait with them (if they were still waiting that is) I headed straight for the front door. I went into the foyer and out the door that lead into the room we waited in, I walked down the corridor and then straight out the front door.
It was as sunny as always, it was exactly the same as I had left it. Only I didn’t feel the same there. I wasn’t happy. It felt as though the sun was setting and it was getting dark, dark and cool. But the children were playing as if it was midday. As I sat on the front stair I realised that this was what my auntie meant when she had said “what if it’s different when you return?” because this time it was different. And it would never ever be the same ever again.
My auntie and cousin came laughing down the street, wearing bathers and towels around there shoulders. They weren’t surprised to see me, It was as if they expected me to be sitting on their front stair. Everything was expected in Happyville, even if you didn’t expect it. “Would you like to go for a swim?” my auntie asked. I had no desire to go for a swim, it was starting to get cool and I didn’t need to.
“I’m not allowed to go swimming here, I don’t live here, I don’t have access to the free pool” I said conclusively. My auntie and cousin looked at each other with confused looks and my cousin said
“But you can now? You can live here now can’t you?” she said it as though she was expecting me to stay this time. I surprised myself when I said
“yeah I suppose I can live here now.”
Was it something in the injection that made me see Happyville differently? Was it something in the injection that made me feel a cool breeze whilst sitting on the step? Something in that yellow liquid made Happyville seem almost... normal? I could live there now! It wasn’t as perfect as before but the heat would never become too much for me. And if it did I could just go for a swim!
I’m still living in Happyville. Happyville is still the greatest place on earth, maybe not as great as before, but now I never have to leave it. For my birthday that year my auntie gave me a watch. Life was normal, and I never had to go back to the place beyond my aunties house. I never saw Lucas again either though, I think that’s a good thing, I don’t think he leaves the doctors place.

It doesn't get much better than this!

2009-04-08T20:15:00.007+10:00

Today, when I was coming home from a baby shower, I passed a church. A sign on the wall of the church read:

Not sure if God loves you?
Easter nails it.

Just a little bit of Christian humour for you all.

Today High School Musical 3 became available for rent at all video stores. I hope that you didn’t know this fact, because High School Musical (often abbreviated to HSM) fans may not feel welcome here. Having said that, everyone is welcome to visit my blog (whether you feel welcome or not is something else.) My little sister reserved a copy at our local video store... and then decided to reserve it at another video store “just in case.” After spending $5 of my money on renting the aforementioned DVD, I thought that perhaps my sister would be somewhat happy. However, we went to the supermarket and she stumbled across a For-Sale copy which she insisted on buying.

Mum: We’ll get it for your birthday.

Sister: But my birthday is ages away!

Mum: Just not today then, your dad is really against High School Musical, every time you bring home merchandise he gets annoyed. You’re obsessed with it.

Sister: I’m not that obsessed with it.

Me: how can you be “not that obsessed” with something?

Mum: Only a little bit dead!

You should be aware of just how fanatic my sister is about this film. It’s like a bomb went off in her bedroom, not just any bomb, a High School Musical bomb. The reason I bring this stereotypical-cheesy-teenager film up is because, on the back of the DVD in the special effects section, it says:

HSM3 Bloopers – get ready to LOL with the cast!

It amused me. At the moment my sister is playing the film over and over again... it's moments like these you wonder why the back cover of the DVD says "it doesn't get much better than this!" and not "it doesn't get much worse than playing-this-film-several-times-in-a-row!" Now I just have to work on getting "I want it all" out of my head..... I hope very much that you don't know what I meant by that.

Money

2009-04-06T12:04:00.002+10:00

Here’s a post about money (as you may have gathered from the title.) I’m writing it because I always disliked money, but now I think I hate it. I’ll start you off with a segment of a short story:
The thickening wind left Kiara with little choice but to retreat into the milkbar to her left. The overpowering force bellowed behind her, pushing her semi-unwillingly through the doors. Kiara straightened her back and took off her beanie, letting her short red hair breath in the warmth of the shop. School had been kind to her today, and Kiara’s backpack contained a limited weight of books. She left it on her shoulders. Looking around the store for something warm, she noticed one last donut under the Serve-Yourself-Hot-Food sign. As she reached for the donut, an unexpected hand touched hers.
“You can have it” the boy who owned the hand insisted. His eyes glistened sky-blue and Kiara was momentarily silenced by his charm. He smiled knowingly and gazed back, with equal entrancement, into her eyes.
“Are you sure?” Kiara asked, despite not caring about the donut at all anymore.
“Absolutely. I got the last one yesterday” he assured her. So Kiara smiled thankfully, and grabbed the last donut for herself. The boy opted for a hot-chocolate - which he made from the coffee machine next to the hot-food section - and the two of them walked to the counter together.
The boy gestured for Kiara to get served first, she smiled thankfully (again) and payed for her donut. The boy set his hot-chocolate on the counter.
“That’s $4” the shopkeeper recited. The boy seemed surprised at the cost, and began to rummage through his pockets, pulling out 20 and 50 cent pieces now and again.
“I’ll get it” Kiara stepped it, giving a five dollar note to the shopkeeper. She took the dollar change and handed the hot-chocolate to the boy. “Here you are” she said pleasantly, but the boy frowned and briskly walked away. Kiara was somewhat shocked and couldn’t figure out what she’d done wrong. Did he want to pay for it himself? Was he embarrassed? Had she managed to offend him in her attempt at being nice? Maybe he had enough change in his pocket, maybe he didn’t. Either way, Kiara was uncertain of how things could have worked out better. She took her donut from the counter and trudged off into the bitter outdoors.

As you can see from this little story, money is often fairly complicated and it’s impossible to know how other people feel about it unless you talk to them. If Kiara hadn’t interfered, and the boy had bought his own hot-chocolate then the two of them could have become good friends. Or something more. But, because of Kiara’s generous and caring nature, the situation has ended in confusion and dislike.

Money brings out the worst in people more frequently than it brings out the best. Greed, jealousy and lies spring off money far too often, turning our world to corruption and leading happy people to desire wealth and material items over love and living things. There are so many people who have forgotten that money is meant to be a way to help humans live in harmony, it wasn’t supposed to tear relationships apart and cause uncountable amounts of conflict. The worst thing about money, is that I can’t think of a good replacement for it. It’s hard to successfully claim you hate something, when getting rid of it seems foolish. There are a few alternative options to living in a world with money:
1. We go back to trading. I’m fairly sure this would be disastrous, there would either be too many rules or not enough rules “my carrot is SO worth your potato!” could be replied with either “no it isn’t. It says here in my copy of the Trading Laws Manual on page 567, paragraph 10... that carrots have to be double the weight of the potato for trade to be equal” or “no it isn’t. I say you give me three carrots and I give you one potato” the later will eventuate into a heated debate. So, it doesn’t seem smart to return to trading.
2. We have no personal belongings, everything is shared with everyone. We are all equals. Obviously this would be awful, we have developed too far in having our own possessions and working hard to earn more items. There is no way we could successfully go back from that. However, if I started my own little country, perhaps this would be an ideal way to live.... then again, children lacking a favourite toy of their own, people working hard to supply food for everyone else ending up with just as much as someone who doesn’t work at all... wouldn’t be particularly pleasant or involve less conflicts than money. It wouldn’t prevail, so let’s not do that.

I could come up with one or two more ways of living, but I’ll leave it there. The point is, we have invented money and there’s no going back from that, it works well but it is poisonous. Money would be perfect if humans were perfect, but we’re not, we have a touch of greed in us that is highlighted when money becomes all too desirable.

Sometimes money brings out the best in people. It gives those who are generous a chance to act, to donate lots of money to charities etc. Sometimes I find it hard to understand why a cure to a disease, or a starving country can’t just be helped and supported without money. Money is paper. Paper doesn’t come up with scientific breakthroughs or produce food. Humans, and the earth, do that. I know it’s the way of our world, but why can’t we just fly over to poor countries and build them good houses, give them food to grow for themselves and help them without the need for practically useless bits of green paper?

To conclude, I’ll just say that I know my opinion is fairly unique and rather debatable. I just don’t get why someone shouldn’t be able to finish building their house merely because they’ve run out of pieces of green paper.

Mr Bones

2009-04-02T16:23:00.003+11:00

Nobody understood. Nobody knew why. But they went along with it all the same.

The brush of a rigid leaf along his arm, awoke Mr Bones from a pleasant daydream. He cleared his throat, took off his battered coat, and persisted to concentrate on the reports before him. The sun shone down heavily, causing Mr Bones a mild headache as he tried to read the reflective white pages. Tick, tick, tick, wrong. It had been a long morning, and Mr Bones was just about ready to throw his students work into the large stone fountain he currently leant against. He needed a break. Not just a break from covering paper with red pen, but a break from everything. What Mr Bones needed most was a holiday.

He sighed in apprehension, as he flicked through the SACs, most of which – Mr Bones was pleased to find – were rather well done. Deciding he needed a drink, Mr Bones separated the small pile of marked reports from the mountain of unmarked reports. Then tapped them on the grassy ground to insure that they were straight, before sliding them into his tattered brown brief case. Immersing himself into another full fetched, creative daydream, Mr Bones left his belongings on the ground and headed up to the staff room.

The school stood tall, overlooking its oversized front garden. Walking up the hill was strenuous work for Mr Bones, who (despite his fit, young state) was worn out from the busy term. His muscles were tired. He longed for a fresh start, to renew his mind and his body. For now, however, he was on a mission for some coffee. Through the front gates. Down the common corridor. As he smiled to various students, Mr Bones wondered thoughtfully how many smiles he gave away in a day. A lot. He was a fan of giving smiles, all his students – even ex students – got a grin as he worked swiftly by.

“Hi Mr Bones!” waved Lucy from Biology 4.1 class. He greeted her cheerfully, before turning -almost instinctively- into the staff kitchen. Small and cosy, warm and stuffy. Mr Bones preferred the kitchen at his old job. It was easier to breath, more conventional than relaxing, at the veterinary kitchen. He also much preferred the coffee there. After a term of teaching, Mr Bones still hadn’t completely settled in. He liked to believe his teaching style had improved over the last few months, his students seemed fond of him and their marks were gradually getting better and better.

He filled up the glass kettle, insuring it had enough water for the next coffee deprived teacher to come along. As he waited for it to boil, Mr Bones headed over to the far walls small window. The only window in the room. He gazed down at the fountain, noting that his brief case and coat had been left in an unorganised manner. He ran a hand through his smooth brown hair, not an everyday action for Mr Bones, but it seemed to help revitalise him. He pushed the glass pane out, and stuck his head through. The kettle whistled in completion, Mr Bones jumped slightly at the sound, bumping his head painlessly on the open window above him. He rubbed it anyway.

He poured the boiled water into his faded-brown mug, added coffee and milk, and stood stirring the ingredients together for far longer than necessary.

On his way back to the garden, the corridors were empty. There were no students for Mr Bones to smile at. For this he was grateful, his energy levels were low and simple smiles were becoming an effort. Walking dangerously fast towards him, was Lucy again. She had her head down and seemed to be thinking with intense concern. “Hi Lucy” Mr Bones greeted her, she looked up at him briefly, her nostrils flared in surprise but the same worried look remained on her face. Suddenly, she increased her speed to a jog. Puzzled as he was, Mr Bones turned around and watched as she disappeared down the hall. He contemplated chasing after her to see if she was alright, but thought better of it and reluctantly continued on his way.

Walking down the hill, Mr Bones became aware that his brief case and coat were not in sight. He hoped that they were merely further around the fountain than he could see, but as he got closer it became more than evident that they were gone. Mr Bones looked left and then right, hoping to find someone running off with his belongings. There was nothing.

To be continued.

Fool I'm Immortal

2009-03-28T22:56:00.004+11:00

In year 10 I watched an incredibly amusing film called “Dragonheart.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a funnier film (I say it’s ‘amusing’ and ‘funny’ but you’d find it in the drama section of your video store.) There are a few parts which are actually supposed to make you laugh... none of which do... but it’s David Thewlis’ portrayal of an evil king that never fails to ignite laughing fits. I’m not sure if he was trying to add humour to his character, but I suppose it’s even funnier if he wasn’t. I highly recommend watching this film, if you’re in a light hearted, high-on-oxygen kind of mood. Anyway, I pulled it out from the draw under by bed the other night. I was only going to watch the first few minutes but – as I should have foreseen- couldn’t stop, and ended up watching the entire thing.
Here’s a brief summary:

It’s 984 A.D. England, the present king is cruel and self centred, he cares little about the peasants of his village, which leads to them rebelling by starting a battle against the kings men. The king’s son Einon and Einon’s mentor, Bowen (Dennis Quaid) hear of the rebellion, and pause their sword fighting lesson to dash down to the village and help out. “I want to be down there fighting!” spits Einon. Despite Bowen’s words of wisdom and caution, Einon instructs his horse to head towards the rebellion. We then see a shot of a soldier lighting twig-made-cottages with a fire stick. The peasants notice the soldier and ALL of them go to stop this fire bearing opponent. After several seconds of ALL the peasants attacking this one soldier, one of them sticks his head out and shouts “the battle’s over there!” they ALL suddenly realise that there are many other soldiers, that need to be beaten and slashed. So they leave the poor single soldier and the real battle begins. I think it’s one of those things you need to see first hand, but it was hilarious how they where all fighting against one man until someone remembers that there are other kings soldiers who also need to be killed. Anyway. Einon is off his horse now, and is running around looking for some peasants to thwarter. He notices his dad (AKA the king) lying on the floor. Instead of trying to help his dying father, Einon snatches the crown of his head. The king tries to grab it back, and they fight over the crown briefly until Einon says “It’s mine! Why won’t you just die!” as soon as this is said, the king takes his final breath and closes his eyes.
Einon, with crown in hand, runs off. As he is running, a peasant “accidently” knocks him and he falls into a wooden pole - which just so happens to have a sharp point sticking out of it. The sharp point pierces Einon’s heart, he turns around (whilst clutching his bleeding chest, with a rather comical look on his face) only to find that the peasant who “accidently” knocked him, was a pretty girl his own age. Who, for reasons unknown, chose this moment to take off her helmet and seductively shake her long red hair.
Bowen takes Einon to his mother (who doesn’t care AT ALL that her husband died in the battle) and she announces that there is only one thing that can save Einon now. Her and Bowen take Einon to a dark cave, and ask the dragon who lives there if he can help save Einon. The dragon merely asks “I cannot see, are the stars shining?” which does little to help Einon. Eventually the dragon makes Einon swear to be a good king, takes out half his own heart and puts it in Einon as a replacement for his dead, human heart. This is why the film is called Dragonheart: Einon has half a dragon’s heart in him.
All went well, King Einon was well and cured. But... he became an even worse king than his dad “I will be greater than my father.” Know body knew that Einon had always been a spoiled, power hungry boy. I’m not sure how they all oversaw that.
Several years later (when Einon is older, and played by David Thewlis... who is also Lupin in Harry Potter) Bowen has dedicated his life to slaying dragons, in an attempt to find the dragon that gave Einon the corrupt half heart. If only Bowen knew that it wasn’t the heart that made King Einon evil. Soon, there is only one dragon left (whose name is Draco and is spoken by Sean Connery) Bowen and Draco end up forming a team, in which Draco flies over various villages and Bowen pretends to rescue the towns people by falsely slaying Draco. This pact is created so that Bowen can still get money from slaying dragons, and Draco... well, he won’t die. This part of the film is fairly drawn out, as there is no David Thewlis to laugh at.
King Einon has got a heap of peasants building him a new village. Just for the sake of putting them to hard work. He has no need or desire for this village. So, Einon and his main man Lord Felton (Jason Isaacs who plays Lucius Malfoy in Harry Potter) head down partly to check out the progress, but primarily to bother a few commoners. In response to a suggestion of Felton’s, King Einon says “only you, Felton, could keep such a good brain under such a bad hat.” David Thewlis’ accent (which apparently he ‘made up’ just for this role) and Feltons’ obedient agreement make this line rather funny. King Einon continues along on his horse, and decides to practice his bow and arrow skills, targeting a jug of water centimetres away from a blind old man. A woman with long red hair stands between the man (her father) and Einon’s bow “how dare you interfere with the kings sport!” Einon spits (much like young Einon ‘spat’ his line at the beginning of the film.) “You call torturing old blind men sport! Please, just let him go. We have built your castle for you, there is nothing left for him here. Please release him” the red haired woman begs. So, King Einon shots his arrow directly into her father’s chest, causing him to fall to the floor dead. “The lord always said death was a release, not a punishment!” he laughs, and gallops off on his horse.
Later, the red haired woman (who’s name is Kara) tries to stab Einon while he is enjoying a leg of lamb and watching men bash each other up. But, he sees her reflection in his - rather fancy and coincidently dragon shaped – water jug. She is locked up in some room. Einon then joins Kara in the room. She tries to leap at him when he first enters, but he – so precisely- stood a centimetre beyond the length of her chain, which (despite all the special effects) was probably the best visual composition in the entire film. Once he forcefully kisses her, tells her he’ll give her everything “even power” and puts his robe back on he leaves. Once Einon is gone, his mother comes into the room. “I don’t want you to suffer the same fate as me” she warns Kara, referring to marrying a king just because that’s what he wants. So Kara escapes via intricate underground pathways, and neglects to thank the mother, but that isn’t particularly important to the story line.
The peasants, Bowen and Draco, come together and form an army. They aspire to overthrow Einon and restore the land to harmony. I must mention the look on King Einon’s face, as he stands up in his castle looking shocked and scared down on the peasants. It made me laugh for several minutes.
During the battle, Einon is shot in the heart with an arrow. This kills him. But, luckily for Einon, half his life source is still in Draco (the last dragon alive, and the dragon who gave him the half heart.) Bowen makes the wise conclusion, that if Draco is killed Einon will die and until Draco is killed Einon is unkillable (yes, I used the nonexistent word unkillable.)
King Einon also realises this, and rushes back to the castle to make sure Draco is “safe and well for all eternity.” Draco is locked up in some room. Meanwhile, the battle continues. Einon’s mum comes into Draco’s room. She has come to kill him, Draco wants Einon to die, and so accepts that his time has come. He asks “are the stars shinning brightly?” and instead of saying “is that really relevant?” she replies “brightly, my lord, brightly” in a very quotable kind of way. As she lifts up the spear to stab Draco, Einon steps in and snatches it from her. They discuss the fact that she was ultimately trying to kill Einon and he says “how unmotherly of you” before stabbing her with the spear. If she could have spoken she may have said “how unsonly of you.”
I won’t ruin the end. But during the battle King Einon says “fool. I’m immortal!” to Bowen when he tries to kill him. Below is a soundless – however moving – image of David Thewlis saying this(which a friend made for me a while ago.) I know it doesn’t have the comedic impact it does in the film, but here it is anyway:

Death

2009-03-25T18:53:00.003+11:00

Ponder this for a while, my fellow blog readers who obviously have more spare time than me:

Death is nothingness, death is black.
Death is cold and hard and lonely.
Death is no vision.
Death is no sound.
Death is no feeling.
No thoughts to think aloud.
Death is nothingness.

Weekly Helpful Hint: Time is a precious gift, never take it for granted. Don’t waste a second of it.

The Blog That Arose from the Dead

2009-03-16T12:42:00.000+11:00

I know it’s been a very long time (almost three weeks) since I last wrote a post. This is because my school play has eaten all my time away- and I need to treasure the time it hasn’t eaten by catching up on homework. So here’s a segment on The End of Time, which I whipped up a while ago.

Lilette frowned quizzically “about to become a Fairy?” she asked, questioning Ash’s unexplained proposal.
“I do not see how that will work” Kordail commented, trying to fit the pieces together.
“Your plan, Kordail, involved Mie going with Lilette to Peppermint tree.” Ash explained “Mie would then use her persuasive powers to free Lilette’s family. We decided this wouldn’t work because -” Ash stopped short as Kordail finished his sentence
“- the Rats would kill Mielou instantly”
“Exactly-” Ash continued to explain, but was once again interrupted, this time by Lilette
“But... if I turn into a Fairy... won’t I look like a Fairy? Won’t they take one look at me and... and... they have no reason to keep a Fairy alive” Lilette, like Kordail, was uncertain how Ash’s plan could ever prevail.
“OK, OK” Ash raised his hands to gain every one’s full attention “Lilette will not look like a Fairy. Her hair will still be blonde. She will, however, grow wings, but these can be easily concealed -” He obviously wasn’t finished, but Kordail couldn’t restrain from questioning him
“But not all Fairy’s have persuasive abilities, Ash. It is only Mielou that has that power. What good will Lilette’s transformation do, if she cannot persuade the Rats to release her family?” Lilette nodded in agreement, Ash’s plan seemed bleak in hope.
“There is more” Jacob stepped in, over dramatising his words “It is not so much that Lilette will turn into a Fairy... but rather... she will trade powers with Mielou” an intense silence followed Jacob’s mystified mini speech. Lilette thought hard about what it would entail to switch powers with Mielou. She imagined herself with wings, flying amongst the trees with complete control, stopping whenever she pleased, go up when she wanted to go up, down when she wanted to go down....
“Lilette!” Ash demanded waving his hands in front of her eyes.
“Oh, sorry. I was just -”
“Do I have your consent?” Ash urged, trying to hurry the transformation process along.
“Oh, um. Yes. Sure.... offcourse” Lilette agreed.
“May I ask how this is going to work?” asked Kordail, but Ash ignored him and briskly walked towards Mielou. She was still lying awkwardly on the ground, as still as a statue. Lilette couldn’t hear them, but Ash sat himself beside Mielou and began talking.
“I do not know if this is a good idea” Kordail sang to Lilette “Mielou is in such a sensitive state. I fear messing with her abilities may push her over the edge.” Lilette had to agree, but she couldn’t help fearing her family’s safety more than Mielou’s emotional well being. After several minutes, Ash helped Mielou to her feet and the two of them came walking back.
“Mie has agreed to give you her powers” Ash said as if it was a bad thing, Lilette presumed it had taken a lot to persuade Mielou and that Ash was now agitated. Mielou stood emotionless, her face was blank, she was making an effort to keep her head high, but every now and again she couldn’t help but look to the floor.
“Thanks” Lilette whispered with deep sincerity. There was a moment of hesitation, as everyone thought silently about the pros and cons of Ash’s plan.
“Are you sure about this Mielou?” Kordail asked, concerned.
“Yes” Mielou replied with no emotion, so it was hard to tell if she really meant it, Kordail searched her face for the true response, but could not decipher Mielou’s expression “I just don’t think we can pull it off” she added unexpectedly.
“We can only hope” said Jacob, moving things along. “Let’s get going!” he insisted, clapping his hands together. Lilette appreciated how concerned Jacob and Ash where to save her family.
“Dad” Ash turned to Jacob “if I lead the way with Mie, can you follow behind with Lilette?” Jacob nodded in response to Ash’s you-don’t-really-have-a-choice-in-this question. Mielou and Ash grasped each other’s hand but their connection lacked the passion Lilette remembered from before. Just as Ash had squatted to the ground and was about to spring up into the air, Lilette remembered their Pixie friend
“Wait!” she called to Ash “what about Kordail? We can’t just leave him here” she turned and smiled sweetly to Kordail who, through a tangle of seaweed, smiled graciously back. Ash sighed loudly in annoyance
“Lilette” Ash said as if there was nothing that could be done “we can’t bring him” he spoke softly (not so quiet that Kordail couldn’t hear, but not so loud that he would appear glad that Kordail couldn’t come.) “He would be a real burden, Lilette. It’s fine for us to carry you along, but that’s because you’re weightless.”
“It is fine” Kordail inputted making everyone turn to him “I do not want to slow you down”
“No!” Lilette cried defiantly “surely it won’t be much of a hassle to bring him along?” she began to plead. When Kordail made no further attempt at courtesy, Ash gave in.
“Fine! But it’s your family that’s in trouble, Lilette. Not mine.” Ash gave Lilette a disapproving glare, took Kordail by the hand, and flew angrily off into the air.
“You take Lilette. I’ll help with Kordail” Jacob instructed Mielou kindly, before soaring off into the sky after his son. For the first time in what felt like ages, Lilette was alone with her best friend.
“Where are we going?” Lilette asked, truly curious, but to prevent any upcoming awkward silences between them.
“We’re going to Midnatt Lune Lumière Montana” Mielou uttered fluently. When on earth was Midnatt Lune Lumière Montana? And how would it give her Mielou’s powers?

The Button

2009-02-26T21:46:00.004+11:00

No Boring Bits

2009-02-22T16:11:00.003+11:00

You may have seen the above poster on the side of a tram, glued to the wall of a dark alleyway or somewhere else around the streets of Melbourne. Here are six good reasons why you shouldn’t go rushing to your local milk bar to by a Cornetto:

As wonderful as a free MP3 player sounds.... it’s been in a FREEZER, electronics don’t do well in extreme cold conditions.

If the MP3 player survives the frosty coldness of the freezer, it still has to survive being completely surrounded by ice-cream. I don’t know about you, but putting ice-cream covered headphones in my ears doesn’t sound fun.

Personally, I’ve never had a wire flavoured Cornetto. I prefer mint or chocolate. But that’s just me.

Just like how ice-creams can’t be good for MP3 players, MP3 players can’t be good for ice-creams.

Imagine bitting into a Cornetto, expecting a delicious ice-cream experience and getting a nice big chunk of MP3 instead.

You could choke on the headphone wires.

The poster above suggests that they actually freeze the MP3 player through the ice-cream cone, but hopefully that’s just a promotional image. I say “promotional” but it’s done quite the opposite for me, I won’t be eating a Cornetto until this Samsung/ Cornetto alliance is well over.

Friday the 13th

2009-02-13T18:51:00.001+11:00

I found it appropriate to put up my 13th post of the year, on Friday the 13th. So here is a little conversation I had with a random women on the train this afternoon. You may have overlooked my “Little Valentines Story” so I’m just letting you know that it’s below this post.

A falling apart, middle aged woman, steps into the train and sits next to me (despite the fact she could sit anywhere in the entire, empty, carriage.) She’s stick thin. Her eyebrows have something noticeably wrong with them, although I couldn’t say exactly what, and they have strange white lines around them. She’s wearing a flannelette T-Shirt (presumably to display the large tattoo of a rose on her chest.) She spends the first five or so minutes of the journey, making sure her socks are pulled up to the exact same point. Then, rather randomly, she turns to me and says:

Weird Woman: I hope you don’t mind me asking. But, how old are you?

I momentarily consider lying, but find no real reason for doing so.

Me: I’m 17.

Weird Woman: Oh! I would have thought - ... you look about 13! ... I’m 57, but I’m not going to let the age thing get the better of me... See my legs? They’re looking as good as they did when I was your age! As for my thighs... well... some things you can’t control.

Awkward silence, as if she expects me to comment on her preserved looks.

Weird Woman: some women my age are this wide!

She demonstrates with her hands.

Weird Woman: Me? I went and got an abdominoplasty... but all it did was move me tummy fat, down to my hips! So now I’ve got love handles like no one else!

She then lifts up her top an inch or two to show me her “love handles”

Weird Woman: You would never have guessed it if I didn’t show you though, eh?

Me: No, I wouldn’t have-

Weird Woman: When I was your age, they didn’t have all these operations to reduce the effects of age. There’s a lot of things you can get done now, ain’t there?

Me: yeah-

Weird Woman: I’ve heard of this laser surgery... I think I’ll go get that done. Get rid of some of this flab.

She laughs and shakes her love handles around.

Weird Woman: Obviously, you don’t need to worry about that kind of thing.

She examines me from head to toe, as if she wishes she was still my age. And then abruptly moves on.

Weird Woman: You won’t be able to tell but... this morning I got me eyebrows tattooed on!

Me: ... Oh... OK.

I try to sound interested, surprised and in approval. She enviously glares at my eyebrows.

Weird Woman: let me give you some pointers, to stay the way you are.

Me: OK.

Weird Woman: When you’re in the shower washing your hair... lean your head backwards, not forwards.

She mimes washing her hair... a bit too enthusiastically.

Weird Woman: The hot water running over your face causes wrinkles.

Me: Oh, OK.

Weird Woman: Also. Rub baby oil over your skin, every day. It’s very good.

She mimes this as well.

Me: OK... yeah.

I know I haven’t said much besides “Oh”, “OK” and “yeah” but bear with me...

Weird Woman: I was told these tips when I was your age. And I’ve remembered them all these years!

The train pulls into her station. As she leaves she says

Weird Woman: I’m going to fight old age! I’m not going to let it defeat me!

With that she steps out of the carriage and opens up an umbrella. I can only presume – on this sunny day – that she’s using the umbrella as another attempt to prevent wrinkles. When she turns around, I see a huge chunk of her hair is missing. From the back, she looks like a Barbie doll whose owner found joy in ripping its hair out.

A Little Valentines Story

2009-02-12T20:51:00.008+11:00

Trisha was the centre of the universe. She thought everything was about her... because it was. As she strolled down the senior school corridor- pink binder in arms- everyone stopped still, and watched her. The sun beamed through the window and seductively reflected off the silver necklace, dangling low on her chest. A gangly looking, pale skinned boy, silently fell to the floor (as one often does when they forget to breath.) Not a single head in the crowded corridor turned to the boy. Everyone was mesmerised by Trisha. The world stopped functioning, as she continued towards her locker. Then the bell rang, and all was chaotic once more.
As she opened her locker and gathered her books, she thought vaguely about what the day would entail. Today was Valentines Day. Trisha had already received three-thousand, two-hundred and eighty-one Valentines requests, all of which she refused with the flick of a pink polished finger nail. Trisha had a serious problem... no one was good enough for her.

After stopping by the bathroom to touch up her makeup, Trisha set about on her mission to find the perfect Valentine. The first boy who came to mind, was Charlie. It occurred to Trisha that Charlie was the only boys she knew, who hadn’t given her a red rose or a box of chocolates. Trisha presumed he was too self doubting to ask to be her Valentine, so she redid her pink lipstick and wondered off to the cafeteria, hoping to find Charlie.
“Trisha!” called her mob of wannabes, who she called her friends. Trisha waved to them across the buzzing cafeteria, but she maintained her unalterable journey towards Charlie. It didn’t take long before the entire school realised Trisha wasn’t stopping at her usual table. All the students stopped eating, and watched Trisha as if she where highly captivating, live entertainment. She felt seven-hundred pairs of eyes, glued to her, watching her every movement. She lived for this kind of attention. Popularity was her oxygen.
Trisha rhythmically strutted through the eerily silent room. Charlie was the last one to advert his gaze to her, she took his surprised expression as a good sign. Her pink high heeled sandals, paused directly in front of Charlie, to ensure there was no doubt as to who she was there for.
“Trisha?” Charlie questioned, he lacked the entranced tone Trisha was used to boys having.
“I’ve done a bit of thinking. And I’ve decided... that you can be my Valentine!” Trisha announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“NOOO!” cried an uncalled for, random voice. Charlie and Trisha ignored the anonymous outburst completely.
“Oh” began Charlie apologetically “I’ve actually already got a Valentine” he shrugged dismissively, gesturing towards the girl next to him. Trisha’s jaw dropped. She adjusted her pink mini skirt, gave a cold glare to Charlie’s Valentine (who in Trisha’s opinion wasn’t nearly as attractive as she was) and walked away. Suddenly, seven-hundred pairs of eyes, wasn’t a positive. Trisha tried to walk with dignity, but her rhythm failed and as soft snickers spluttered across the room she found it hard to hold her head high.

Luna's List of Things That DON'T Suck:

2009-02-10T19:14:00.010+11:00

The smell of incense.
When a stranger tells you that your jeans are "lovely and original."
When a stranger says "did you make those jeans yourself?" and you say "no, I didn't" leaving out the fact that you got them from Target.
Going on adventures.
The vibration between your fingers and rubber banisters.
When you get a better mark for a test than you expected.
Jason Mraz (I'm sure there are many other people in the world you don't suck, but he makes it to the list.)
If you're reading this (which I can only pressume you're doing at this very moment), then you'll be delighted to know that you're apart of the list!
Watching things grow (which doesn't mean sitting on the veranda and watching your front lawn for hours on end.)
Watching Berocca's fizzle away in a glass of water.
Running about in the rain.
Looking at the world from a great height.
Dolphin tooth pick holders (perhaps I'll explain why they "don't suck" if you ask me.)
Spending so long reading one book that you become fully immersed in its world (doesn't work as well when you speed read.)
When you make a really big mistake and everyone forgives you (obviously, it would suck even less if you didn't make the big mistake in the first place.)
Waterfalls.
Mazes.
Pineapple juice.
Life.
Laughing attacks.
Tom and Jerry.
Eating lunch in the science stairwell.
Soft drinks that have lost their fizz.
Throwing water bombs.
Flower covered meadows.
Fruit Tingles.
The number 736 (one day you will learn how great this number is.)
Swings.
When someone agrees with you on something you never thought anyone would agree with you on (don't mind the tongue twister of a sentence.)
Running very fast (for short distances at a time.)
Skipping when everyone else is walking.
Riding on the back of golf buggies.
Long plane journey's (give you an excuse to watch several films in a row.)
Stopping at petrol stations during long car rides.
Stopping in at random little towns and villages.
Going to Disney Land on a day where barely anyone's there.
Rolling down hills.
I almost forgot to add Furbys to my list... while I'm at it I should add walking along train tracks in the country.

OK, that will do for now. I suppose it's rather sad that my "Things That Suck" list was so much longer...

Lie Detection Test

2009-02-03T18:01:00.003+11:00

Try this fun "Lie Detection Test" (you need to turn the volume on) it only takes a couple of minutes. Have fun! ... and don't laugh at my pathetically small post.....
http://www.fox.com/lietome/lightmantests/

The Herbs and Spices Cupboard

2009-02-01T11:47:00.001+11:00

‘It’s high time I did some explaining’ Luke repeatedly thought the old man’s words, trying to find some hidden meaning to them. Luke tried hard to understand why the man had gotten up from his seat and dashed away. Wasn’t he just about to explain everything? It had been almost ten minutes since the man’s uncalled for departure, Annie was still lying unconscious on the ground and Luke was eager to get her to school. Perhaps Annie has been poisoned Luke thought. He went over to the cabinet above the stove and rummaged through the various herbs and spices jars.
“Poison, poison....” Luke muttered, to keep himself aware of what he was looking for. Most of the jars lacked labels, so he opened their lids and sniffed oregano to paprika to finely chopped rosemary. Once it was discovered that a jar contained innocent cooking ingredients, Luke frantically dropped it to the floor. After several minutes of searching through the abnormally large herbs and spices cabinet, Luke found himself standing in a pile of smashed glass and smelling of a disagreeable blend of aromas. Luke felt faintly sick and light headed, he had never sniffed harder in his life, but he was determined to know when or whether Annie would wake up.
It was when the cabinet was almost bare and Luke was ready to give up, that he saw a pill bottle. He dropped the jar of over dated cinnamon and reached for the white tablet container. The label read:
Sleeping Powder: use sparingly
Luke popped open the lid and looked curiously at the blue dust inside. Without thinking of the dangers, he sniffed the sleeping drugs. It didn’t surprise him that it had no smell. He looked back at Annie, she didn’t appear to be sleeping any more, she looked solid and frozen. Luke searched the container for more information and was relieved to find, in almost illegibly fine print, the words:
1 pinch = 1 hour sleep
3 pinches = 6 hours sleep
Luke spent a while trying to figure out the logic in the dosage information, but all he could come up with was that the old man most likely used one pinch. He then heard Annie give a weary grunt and whizzed around to look at her, during his whizzing journey, however, he knocked his head on the herbs and spices cupboard and watched, terrified, as everything went black.
He could no longer feel his feet on the ground, or sense his own presence in the kitchen. The blackness soon turned into a rollercoaster of rainbow coloured stars, Luke felt as though he was being teleported to another place. He tried to move his body, but could control nothing... could sense nothing. All he could do was watch the wacky colours jumble around before him, it was as though his soul had been sent on a journey, leaving his body behind. Then he began to hear voices radiating out of the bright colours Annie! We have to hurry or we’ll miss the train! he remembered himself saying the words earlier that day, but the voice that spoke them wasn’t his I saw you shoot my sister. I saw the blood they where Luke’s words again, but the voice spoke them in a monotonous way, compared to the frantic tone Luke had used when he spoke them. Then a deep unknown man’s voice yelled: she’s not usually shy! Only around people she thinks are better than her! And people she wants to like her! A woman’s voice began to sing the words I do believe in magic over and over again.
Then all was silent.
The rainbow rollercoaster spiralled into one shade of hot pink, Luke helplessly stared at the blank, pink space, praying that he wasn’t on his way to heaven or – because everything had just turned hot pink- hell. In the middle of the plain pink space, an image of Annie appeared. She seemed far away and unreachable, as if Luke were watching her in a dream. She sat up, holding her head, and weakly muttered what happened?
At that moment everything sped backwards, Annie was soon out of site and the rainbow came spiralling back at high speed. Luke felt like he was being sucked backwards. The rollercoaster was playing exactly as before but incredibly fast and in reverse. The voices began to speak again, their word inaudible.

Luke took in a deep, desperate breath as his vision returned. He found himself standing, once again, in the old man’s kitchen. The light blinded him, as if he had just awoken from a dark sleep and stepped into the sun. He rubbed his eyes and thanked no one in particular that he was alive. At the sound of Annie’s exhausted murmur, Luke opened his eyes and watched as she sat up and dreamily muttered “What happened?”

Challenge

2009-01-29T21:05:00.003+11:00

It’s now time for a quiz question. Seeing as you’re all on the internet, it will be incredibly easy to cheat on this quiz. Never mind. I foresee honest, cheat free people reading this post. Also, I haven’t written anything in a while so my blog feels empty and abandoned... obviously it’s also very hot, so I can’t be bothered writing much more than this.
What film is the following poem from?

Day burns down to night

Burns the edge of my soul

In the night I break into sparks of suns

and become fires in a dust of bones

Night knifes my breath swallows whole my tongue

Turn back reverse return

In the night I see the real concealed in days bright lie

Eyes stitched shut white teeth smile

Sleep walks

and talks

and feet

mark time of day

And that’s the end of the poem. You may think that I’m lazy for simply posting a poem from a film... and you would correct. Moving on from the poem completely... tomorrow I start year 12, so if posts become more and more “lazy” I believe I am excused.

Luna’s List of Things That Suck

2009-01-24T12:13:00.004+11:00

When you can’t tell if someone hates you or loves you, wants to be friends or wants nothing to do with you.
When the cat’s meals are served up in the kitchen.
When your alarm goes off at 3am when you set for 9:30.
When your favourite actor commits suicide.
When your sister spills water all over your wallet.
When the editing program on your computer won’t burn your home made film to DVD.
Lupin dying.
Furbys (I mean... they belong to the ‘things that are wonderful and I would never accuse them of world domination schemers’ list)
When it’s too hot to go outside but the air-conditioning is too cold inside.
When my Harry Potter poster falls on my head in the middle of the night (it’s only happened once, but once is enough... believe me)
When all the posters in my room fall down on the same day, because the blutac can’t stand the heat.
When Heroes is moved to a later time because no one really watches it.
When, by merely existing, you upset someone.
When there are two sides, and you’re the only one on the ‘other’ or the ‘wrong’ side.
When you bother to read someone’s “Things That Suck” list, hoping it will be entertaining, and it just turns out depressing and boring.
When you feel like eating but you know you’re not hungry.
When chopping off your own arm feels like the only way to stop you from feeling restless.
When you can’t tell whether someone’s laughing with you or at you.
When people don’t take you seriously when you need them to.
When people take you seriously when you’re just messing around.
When you make someone upset when you tried to make them feel better.
When it rains at the wrong time.
When it doesn’t rain for weeks.
When the grass goes from green to yellow over night.
When you miss the train and are 20 minutes late to meet a friend, so that friend goes home.
When the world stops spinning (hasn’t happened yet, but I’m sure it will suck when it does happen.)
Getting injections.
When you get an injection to prevent chicken pox and then the next morning you wake up with red itchy spots all over you.
When your mice eat each other (or it might make more sense to say: when one of your mice eats the other and then dies of food poisoning.)
When you can’t sleep all night.
When no one believes that you couldn’t sleep all night.
When you can’t wake out of a bad dream.
When a boy you like turns out to be gay.
When you get badly sunburnt despite your sun smart actions.
When you leave your favourite CD in a car that you loaned while in Italy, and don’t notice until your back in Melbourne.
When your toes are so cold they feel like they might fall off.
When no one believes how cold your feet are.
When you lose your Neville dolls wand.
When people kill innocent animals.
When you can’t sleep because the mosquito zapper is shining through your window.
When you’re not sick enough to stay home but you’re too sick to go to school.
When they stop baking chocolate scones at Bakers Delight.
When you burn your toast.
When your sunglasses get left in a bag with a leaky sunscreen bottle.
When you get blamed for someone else’s wrong doing.
When no one listens to you.
When people don’t understand you.
When you leave your umbrella in your locker and get caught in the rain going home (this
Wouldn’t be a bad thing if the rain didn’t soak through your bag and soak all your school books.)
When you walk into a pole and no one laughs.
When nothing exiting happens.
When your sister leaves globs of toothpaste in the sink.
When you spend ages doing something and it doesn’t pay off.
When your maths teacher hates you because she thinks you purposely came to class late, when you honestly had transport issues.
When you get told off at school because your socks are “too short.”
When your favourite film is so unknown that you can’t hang a poster of it on your wall (because they don’t make the poster, not because I’m afraid of being different.)
When your cat kills a helpless baby bird.
When someone means the exact opposite of what they said.
When your eyes are closed in the school photo (it’s happened to me several times...)
When you travel all the way to England and stop by Leeds just because Matthew Lewis lives their... and it turns out that when you where in his home town he was in Melbourne.
When you go to Paris for a week and plan to catch the train to all the major tourist places, but that’s the week they decide to have a train strike.
When you realise that your suck list could go on forever.

Yeah, I was in a bad mood.... maybe one day I'll write a more positive list...

Mrs Dudman

2009-01-21T18:06:00.000+11:00

Mrs Dudman-newly widowed-was lying on her bed, in the dark (as one tends to do at the end of the day.) Above her was a ceiling- as ceilings are often above people- and attached to it was a fire alarm. Mrs Dudman was far too sleepy to worry about its red glow (which disturbed her greatly every night, but she always forgot about it in the morning and therefore never stopped the irritating, sleep preventing flashing.)
On this particular night, she lay on her bed swearing to herself that in the morning she would remember to do something about the fire alarm. She thought of getting a chair from the communal kitchen, a hammer from the communal shed and smashing the red light to pieces. But she was not as young as she used to be, such a task would utterly drain her, just thinking about it sent Mrs Dudman into the strange world between consciousness and dreams. Her thoughts became semi controllable and she almost forgot where she was, when BANG BANG BANG.
Mrs Dudman bolted upright, who dare disturb her sleep? She instinctively felt around the bedside table for her glasses, but managed to knock them to the floor instead. Deciding vision wasn’t entirely necessary, she switched on her lamp and threw the sheets off her bed. Yes completely off her bed.
BANG BANG BANG Mrs Dudman was infuriated now, she swung open her door and yelled down the communal corridor “WHO’S BANGING ON ALL THE DOORS!? THERE ARE BABIES TRYING TO SLEEP!!!” she went back inside, slamming her door heavily behind her. A thunder of babies cries erupted from down the hall.
There was no going back now, Mrs Dudman’s sleep was officially disturbed. As she slowly bent down to retrieve her glasses from the floor her back made a worrying cracking noise (which she had learned to pay no attention to.)
She put her glasses on, sat on the side of her bed and watched her fake teeth bobble gently up and down in their glass.
There was a faint knock on the door “Mrs Dudman?” a young woman whispered, mainly for the benefit of the babies (which had since stopped crying.) Mrs Dudman considered answering the woman, but in the time it took to decided not to answer her, she was already in the room. “I have to remind you, Mrs Dudman, that noise in the middle of the night is highly unappreciated” said the young nurse sweetly but seriously, her straightened orange hair was resting weightlessly on her shoulders. She dared not enter the room more than a few feet.
“I wasn’t the one who started it!” Mrs Dudman snapped at the familiar nurse.
“Right” the nurse knew not to argue with her “I’ll just leave you to get back to sleep then, shall I?” and with that, the nurse left to attend to a knife wound incident on level 3.
Once the nurse was completely gone, Mrs Dudman aggressively whipped her glasses off. In the process, however, she managed to topple her glass full of teeth off the bedside table. They fell to the floor with a splash. As she watched her teeth- which were now disconnected from the gum- float around her floor, she thought: it’s moments like these you need Minties before remembering that if it weren’t for over consumption of the aforementioned lolly, she wouldn’t be watching false teeth swim around her bedroom floor in the first place.

Random Puzzle

2009-01-20T10:17:00.000+11:00

I completely stole this from a book titled “Mind - Bending Classic Logic Puzzles” but they’re fun and I thought I’d share one with you......
Asked about his children, a man replied, “they are all redheads but two, all brunettes but two and all blondes but two.” How many children does he have?
This is one of the easier ones, but good luck!

Furby Phobia

2009-01-19T15:05:00.004+11:00

This post has been deleted

New Layout

2009-01-17T17:02:00.002+11:00

Lilette stared blankly at the calendar before her. The world paused. She couldn’t bring herself to think a single thought, her mind was completely empty. She read the words below her half a thousand times: Death of Mielou, Death of Mielou. She read them so many times that they lost their meaning.
After what could have been several minutes or hours, Ash slid the calendar from Lilette’s frozen hands. She stared thoughtlessly at the space where the calendar had been.
“We’re going to get through this Lilette. I’m going to do everything I can to stop Mie dying on the 13th” Ash reassured her. Hearing of her best friends predicted death (rather than just reading it) opened Lilette’s thoughts again. She began to cry - a fairly normal reaction one might have to the news of death. Ash was fairly relieved that Lilette was no longer frozen, and instantly went into comforting mode. Lilette’s sobs were dry and quite, she wondered why she couldn’t produce tears at this utmost moment of misery.
“I have to see her” she managed to say.
“Offcourse” Ash agreed quickly “but maybe you should stay here a while and recover”
Lilette appreciated Ash’s concern, but she desperately needed to see Mielou. She stood up- off Ash’s bed- and headed for the door. Ash responded to her action immediately and was at the door in time to open it for her.

Before long Lilette was holding Ash’s hand and they were up in the air.
“The calendar isn’t always right” Ash tried to make the current situation less awful as they flew hastily around trees, but he sounded unconvinced himself so it failed to work.
Soon they were touching down onto the familiar ground of the random forest. Lilette swiped her hand away from Ash’s and darted off to find Mielou.
“Mielou!?” she called intensely, but found her friend surprisingly easily within seconds.
“I’m over here” called back a dreary sounding Mielou.
Lilette raced over to her and they embraced one another for a lifetime. Once they stopped hugging, Mielou looked dully to the ground and began fiddling with a piece of grass.
“Hello Lilette” said a voice to Lilette left, which was so peaceful it didn’t make her jump.
“Kordail?” she exclaimed, turning to her new green skinned friend.
“I’m sorry Lette” Mielou said unexpectedly “Pixies are wonderful. Just like you tried to tell me” Mielou stated bleakly, with little expression. Lilette tried as hard as she could to hold back her own despair, so that she could do her best to cheer up her friend and shine lights of hope upon her.

“It’s alright” Lilette said, resting her hand on Mielou’s upper back. A thought of joy uncontrollably entered Lilette’s mind, but she forced it to leave her mind as quickly as it had come. There was nothing positive about Mielou’s upcoming death. “You’re not going to die” Lilette said, persuasively shaking Mielou. Mielou slowly refocused her gaze to Lilette.
“I will die Lette” she said with more feeling than anything else she’d said that day “this is the end. This is the end of everything. The end of all time” offcourse it would only be the end of time for Mielou, but being a fairly self absorbed person she ignored this fact “there’s nothing left, nothing matters any more. What’s the point in looking at the pretty flowers, when they’ll all be gone soon anyway? Was there ever any point? Why do we live? Who decided that we should live? They must be evil, evil creatures, to give us life and then take it away. And why make things so beautiful? Why give me great people like you and Ash, if you’re just going to be taken away from me? I can see the future Lilette... it’s black. It’s like a great black pit and it’s sucking us all in, every day we get closer and closer to the pit” she then added “I’m not scared” and went back to looking aimlessly at the grass below her.
Lilette was momentarily stunned quite, Mielou was usually a bubbly optimistic person.
“Mie” Lilette said slowly and cautiously, afraid of saying the wrong thing “I promise that you won’t die, me and Ash are going to save you. I promise. I promise Mie, you’re not going to die”
“But that’s just the thing Lette. You say I won’t die, but I will.... if not on December 13th then on some other day. We all die Lilette, that’s Gods evil plan. He gives us all this” Mielou gestured to everything around her “and then takes it away. He takes it away! Don’t you get it Lette? The meaning of our lives is so that God can laugh they end”
Lilette was once again astonished by the words coming out of her best friends mouth. Mielou then went temporarily crazy. She started ripping out grass, scratching bark of trees and other nature disrupting things, all the while yelling “the world is ugly!” and “the only reason you’re here, is so I can rip you from the ground!” This went on for far longer than Lilette expected it would.

“Should we leave her, or try and calm her down?” Lilette asked Kordail, she felt like she didn’t know Mielou at all anymore. Perhaps Kordail knew her better now, for he had known her for longer in this new state of hers.
“I think we should let her get it all out, but stay here so she knows she’s not alone” Kordail spoke in his usual musical voice, Lilette couldn’t help smiling. “I heard your family is being held hostage by the Rats. I hope I am mistaken?”
“They are being held hostage, yes. But nothing will happen to them until the Rats have captured me as well. They Rat King wants a whole family of servants, you see.”
“I see. So, what is your plan?”
“My plan?” Lilette knew she had to do something, but she imagined herself simply barging into the main hall and demanding her family’s release. Which, come to think of it, wouldn’t work at all. “I haven’t really thought of anything.”
“Right” Kordail thought, apparently taking the matter of thinking up a plan into his own hands.
Not so far away, Mielou stopped pulling apart nature and collapsed in a sorrowful heap to the ground. She didn’t cry. She just lay awkwardly and miserably, as if she couldn’t be bothered crying or readjusting her position. Lilette went softly over to her friend but was too cautious to comfort her with touch.
Lilette sat for a while, unsure of what to do. She wanted to say words of brightness and give Mielou hugs of joy. It could have been slight boredom or restlessness that drove Lilette to stand up and walk back to Kordail, or maybe it was purely for Mielou’s benefit.
“She’s depressed” a sudden voice explained from behind Lilette and Kordail (who were auspiciously out of Mielou’s hearing range.) Lilette turned to see Ash’s father- whose name escaped Lilette at present- his electric purple eye looked brighter than before and his frizzy white hair blew delicately in the breeze. “She hasn’t been taking this the way we had hoped” the old man continued “we thought- her being a rather up beat person- she would take the other approach”
“The other approach?” questioned Lilette, also not sure what Ash’s dad meant by ‘she’s depressed.’
“If you had little over a month to live, what would you do Lilette?” Jacob asked wisely as his name popped back into Lilette’s head. She thought seriously, what would she do?
“Well... I suppose I would go do all the things I’ve always wanted to do. I mean, the things I want to do before I die. I would tell ever one I love that I love them... I wouldn’t spend a second alone, because life’s greatest bonus are my friends and family...” Lilette wasn’t sure if she ought to go on, but when she paused Jacob didn’t speak, so she continued with clear certainty of what she was saying “I would go to all the places I’ve always wanted to go... but I’d spend a lot of time in my favourite places, like the river bank..... what else could I do, but live like there was no tomorrow?” Lilette finished, hoping to save everyone from what she believed to be a never ending list.
“Exactly” Jacob said, like Lilette had correctly answered an algebra question “not quite the approach Mielou is taking, eh?”
“No, I suppose it’s not” Lilette agreed, looking back over to her friend, who was so motionless she could have passed as a statue.

At that moment, Ash came flying towards them. Lilette wished he wouldn’t fly so elegantly, it only reminded her of how much she unacceptably loved him. He seemed faintly surprised that his dad had joined them, but said what he had to say none the less.
“Lilette, we really should start thinking up a plan. I know Mie is all....” he waved his hand around in search of an appropriate word.
“Depressed” suggested Jacob.
“Ok whatever” Ash, like Lilette, was unsure what depressed meant “I know Mie is all... depressed... but every second we waste, is a second closer to putting your family in serious danger” Ash talked as though he may fly off and single handily rescue Lilette’s family, if a plan wasn’t formed within seconds.
“I can think of only one way” Kordail stepped forward. Lilette had almost forgotten her seaweedy friend was there “but it will not work, because Lilette does not have the magic of Fairies” Lilette was used to being second best, she dreamt longingly of having powers.
“Well, tell me your plan anyway. Perhaps there’s some way we can modify it to work” Ash pushed.
“Seeing as Lilette doesn’t have powers, I thought Mielou could go with her to Peppermint Tree. That is where you live, Lilette?” she nodded “and Mielou would use her persuasive abilities to force the Rat king to let your family go. It seemed rather fail proof, until I released that when the Rats take one look at Mielou, they will be able to tell she is not a part of the Elfish family, and they will instantly kill her. Her brown hair and wings will surely give her away. I for one do not want to risk our friends life” Lilette was amazed that Kordail already knew so much about Mielou.
“I agree. That plan is too risky, we have to keep Mie as safe as possible” Lilette concluded instantly, without a pause of consideration. She would not put her friend into a dangerous situation.
“You see” Kordail concluded “we cannot ask Mielou to do that... the perfect situation would be if Lilette had persuasive abilities, which she obviously does not”
Ash shared a look of knowledge and excitement with his father.
“It’s perfect” Ash said, and Jacob nodded in accomplished agreement.
“What? What’s perfect?” Lilette asked dying to know what was going on.
“You, my friend” Ash focused on Lilette “are about to become a Fairy.”

Conundrum

2009-01-05T12:51:00.001+11:00

A conundrum is “a riddle in which a fanciful question is answered by a pun” just in case you’ve been kept in the dark and hidden from the definition of ‘conundrum’. Now that you know what one is, let’s see if you can actually solve a conundrum...

Mr Dudman has been found dead. It’s up to you to solve the mystery, for the detectives don’t like dealing with the Dudman family (possibly they have issues with the surname Dudman.) The death occurred in a chapel, a completely empty chapel, devoid of all things... including seats (for the people of Upright Town tend to stand during mass.) Mr Dudman is a vicar and the only person who has access to the chapel key. The inner roof and the walls are completely smooth - to climb the wall you would need a rope or climbing gear, nether of which where in the possession of Mr Dudman at the time of the incident. All that is in the chapel is a single light, dangling from the utmost highest point of the ceiling (which is very high indeed.) Below the light is Mr Dudman... who, just to remind you all, is dead. He is lying in a large puddle of water. His legs and arms are broken and his face is badly distorted. There is no doubt what so ever that he is dead.

The question is: how did Mr Dudman die?

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T23:22:00.003+11:00

Yes, here is a blog post to celebrate the new year. But, the real reason I'm here is because I was watching The Goblet of Fire.... again, and:
Is Barty Crouch Junior, Doctor Who??? (yes, three question marks means I'm asking you three separate times) how unlike me to not have noticed this earlier.

P.S. Excuse the incredibly short blogs I've been posting lately, my time has been needed for other things (yes, I know I just told you how I spent time watching Harry Potter again... but I'm sure you can all wipe that from your memories and imagine me studying hard or helping elderly folk across roads.)

Once again, happy new year!

AFL

2008-12-31T14:24:00.005+11:00

A Football match is like a snowflake: No two are the same, but if you've seen one, you've seen them all.

Luke’s Confession

2008-12-30T21:06:00.006+11:00

Everything about Christmas was great, but to save blog space let’s skip the part where we open up Christmas stockings and get various gifts including an orange. Also: the part where we spend half an hour driving to church, only to catch the last ten minutes of the mass and then driving home again (which wasn’t particularly a bad thing, although it may have been if we weren’t all in high Christmas sprits.)
I could mention the big meatless lunch, but then you may question me on whether or not I’m a vegetarian and I’ll have to tell you that it’s only my parents who share this dietary desire. Then you’ll ask me what we had instead of meat and I’ll spend a while telling you about our Yorkshire pudding, presumably you won’t know what a Yorkshire pudding is and I’ll have to describe it’s bread like texture and stumble along until I find a suitable description for its taste.
I should move right along from explaining my second Christmas to you. The one that began with a three hour drive to my grandmas (at the beginning of which we stopped in at Watsonia so my dad could get a coffee and argue with the friendly woman for five minutes about the price of it. (“It’s not five dollars!” he demanded several times “yes, it is” the woman repeated as kindly and patiently as possible.)
I may as well completely avoid the third Christmas, which was hosted at our house for some reason (it always used to be at my Grandmas.) I should probably leave out the bit where I stay up until 1am making a calendar. Because most people don’t even think 1am is late and most people won’t understand the point in putting so much effort into my 2009 calendar (much like no one understands why I bothered to spend two days making my family Christmas cards.)
If I leave out all that stuff, then I should be able to hold your attention long enough for you to read the next instalment in The End of Time:

Luke and Annie continued to cautiously approach the veranda. Luke was well aware that Annie was beyond late for school already, but he felt an unbound trust towards the old man – despite the fact he had shot Annie, mere seconds ago. Luke looked at Annie, to make sure she too was in favour of going into the old man’s house, and she smiled slightly.
“Come along you two” sweetly ordered the man with one electric purple eye “the cookies are fresh out of the oven. Hurry along, they won’t stay warm forever” and with that, Luke and Annie obediently followed the man into his shabby mansion.
They walked into the entrance hall - Luke hoped they wouldn’t have to climb the broken stairs up to the next level. The man’s house was dark because all the drapes were closed shut. There was dust covering all open surfaces. Spider webs hung in every place a spider could possibly manage to weave one (the webs were dusty too and appeared to have been unoccupied for quite some time.) The old man’s house looked as though no one had lived in it for years, the grandfather clock had stopped ticking and rats seemed to own the place.
Luke and Annie silently followed the old man to the kitchen, which was equally as neglected as the entrance hall. “Please. Take a seat” the old man said, gesturing towards a couple of overly dusty wooden chairs. Luke didn’t particularly want dust all over his pants, but he also didn’t want to appear rude by dusting the chair off. So they sat down without a word.
The old man slid open a small curtain above the sink – which was filled with unwashed dishes- a burst of light sprung through the window, forcing Luke to squint a little. The old man’s electric purple eye glistened in the sun.

“What happened before?” demanded Luke, his newfound trust for the man didn’t provide an explanation for his sisters sudden reawakening from the dead.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about son” the old man said, but Luke wasn’t a fool and could tell that he knew perfectly well what had happened.
“You shot my sister!” Luke yelled “or was I just imagining that!?” he added sarcastically. The old man sighed an ‘ok, fine, you got me’ sigh and sat down opposite Luke and Annie.
“Do you believe in magic?” the old man asked, leaning forward. Luke blurted out “no” and Annie, just as hastily, said “yes.” Luke shot his sister a warning look, but she didn’t back out of her opinion.
“I don’t know exactly what happened” the man confessed honestly, trying to calm Luke down “but I do know that it was all in your imagination”
“What!?” Luke raged “I didn’t imagine that! I saw you shoot my sister! I saw the blood!”
“Calm down Luke” the man suggested warily. There was a silence as Luke analysed what the man had just said.
“...how... how did you know my name?” Luke questioned, lowering his voice from the previous outburst.
“How do you feel about your powers?” the man asked, then in an attempt to completely sway the conversation from Luke’s ‘how did you know my name’ question, the man stood up and abruptly served out cookies and tea for the three of them.
“The only power I have, is being able to tell who will win reality TV shows just from watching the first episode” Luke admitted, starting to wonder if the man was building up to saying ‘you’re a wizard, Luke’ but he doubted that he would be the next Harry Potter.
“I see. I see” the old man was completely satisfied that Luke had no real powers.

They ate and drank in silence because Luke knew the man wouldn’t give a straight answer to any of the questions swarming his mind.
“You’re sister has been very quiet” the man pointed out “is she ok?” Luke looked at Annie, she was timidly chewing on a biscuit.
“She’s fine” Luke ensured the man “she’s not usually shy. Only around people she thinks are better than her... and people she wants to like her” Luke was proud of himself for figuring his sister out in such a way.
“Ah” the man agreed in understanding, as if he knew several people with the same personality trait “my late wife was much the same. Whenever I was with her she was always very shy” Luke had to suppress a laugh, for the man’s dead wife was likely to have been shy all the time.

Once they had finished their snack, Luke pressed the man for further answers “what’s your name?” he insisted. But, just as Luke had asked his question, Annie fell from her seat to the floor “Annie!” cried Luke, and bent down beside her for the second time that day... or possibly the first (Luke wasn’t sure were reality began and imagination ended anymore.)
“Don’t panic Luke” the old man said calmly “she’s only sleeping”
“You drugged her food!?” Luke yelled, accusing the man of the first possibility that had come into his head.
“Yes” the man said simply “because I need to talk to you” Luke gave into the man’s plan, left his sister on the floor, and sat back in his seat.
“Who are you? Did you shoot my sister? Am I going crazy? Why did you ask me if I believed in magic? Are you a wizard? Am I a wizard? How did you know my name?....” the man interrupted Luke with polite assertiveness.
“You must have many questions” stated the man obviously “and all shall be answered in due time. But first, you must answer my question. Do you believe in magic?”
“I already told you” objected Luke impatiently “I don’t believe in magic”
“Then why did you suspect me to be a wizard?” the man observed sceptically, then added “until you admit your belief in magic, I cannot divulge any of my secrets” he leant back in his chair, apparently willing to wait for Luke to ‘admit his belief.’
“I believe something’s seriously fucked up” began Luke “whether it’s in my head, or yours.... or magic is the reason... I’m willing to hear any explanation.... even if it is magic.” Luke announced, hoping it would be enough to get an answer out of the old man.
“There’s a difference between being ‘willing to hear’ about magic.... and believing what you hear” Luke groaned at the crazy, electric purple eyed mans comment. There would be no way of getting any answers unless Luke confessed his belief in magic, a confession he hadn’t even accepted himself yet.

Luke became increasingly edgy and impatient as the silent minutes crept by. He looked to Annie, she hadn’t even stirred since her sudden collapse to the floor.
“She’s not dead is she?” asked Luke, even though he trusted her to be asleep.
“No, she’s not dead” the old man sighed “But, she will wake up soon. So if you want any answers you’d better hurry up”
Luke thought silently for a while. He weighed up all the reasons why he should and shouldn’t believe in magic.
“Alright” Luke decided to give in “I do believe in magic. I didn’t until today, but I can’t think of any explanation that can explain how my sister didn’t really get shot... the only explanations I can think up... are magical.”
As Luke spoke his words he began to believe in them, but he convinced the old man more than he convinced himself.
“In that case” rejoiced the man “it’s high time I did some explaining.”

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-26T17:10:00.003+11:00

Sister: I got dad a present today!! What did you get him?

Me: I’m going to get him a chocolate fondue fountain. What did you get?

Sister: ... a handkerchief

Christmas Eve:

Sister: How will Santa get down the chimney if we have this metal fence thing in front of the fireplace?

Me: he rides in a flying, reindeer pulled sleigh and delivers presents to every child in one night and you’re wondering how he’s going to push aside a light bit of metal?

Sister (laughs, because despite the fact that I was insulting her logic, she rather likes it when the attentions on her): yeah but, we could still make it as easy as possible for him and just move it.

I agreed, but we never ended up moving the thing because she couldn’t be bothered doing it herself.

I would write more but I don’t have any time. Oh, and just a pre-warning: you won’t be hearing from me until Monday.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas’ and are having fun holidays!

Blueray

2008-12-18T23:22:00.002+11:00

My dad bought a Blueray player the other week- our house isn’t complete without the latest piece of technology- and I passionately hate the thing. When people ask “why don’t you like the Blueray?” I always say “because there’s no need for one when we’ve already got a DVD player” but the real answer goes a bit more like this:

In a time not so long ago, people watched videos. Then, one day, The Man was walking home from the video store and he said to himself “this video is too heavy and thick for my liking, it would be a lot more convenient to make it flat... and while we’re at it, let’s make it circular instead of rectangular... I’ve always rather fancied circles” and so the DVD was invented. After a while people stopped renting videos and began renting DVDs instead, they threw out their chunky video players and rejoiced over the clearer vision that came with DVDs (they were also rather fond of the circular shape.)
Soon videos were virtually extinct, video stores started keeping them on the far, dingy back wall of the store or on the bottom row of the DVD stands. Videos were weeping in despair at the rejection. Offcourse the argument The Man gave when confronted in the Court of Justice for Video Rights was “we must progress. It is human nature to improve what we’ve got, especially when improving is easily achieved and does not harm anyone.” The poor videos had no rebuttal for The Man’s defence, and instead of taking their revenge on the human race they went for a more harmless approach- rotting away miserably on the back walls of video stores.
DVDs were dearly loved. There were no ads to fast forward at the beginning of the film, the picture was clearer and special effects were a greatly enjoyed novelty. DVDs were especially commended for not having to be rewound once you reached the end. The Man was ecstatic, he had never dreamed of DVDs being such a success, all he wanted was something less bulky to carry home from the video store. He was so ecstatic, that he died of over-enthusiasm (yes, you can die of over-enthusiasm.) The Man’s son was greatly grieved (let’s call his son The Man) so he devised a plan to invent an even better way of watching films at home.
The Man invented the Blueray. The Man improved DVDs in the same way his father had improved videos. The Man put handles on the DVD cover- to further improve the task of carrying home a film from the video store- and minimised the size of the cover. It weighed less- and was easier- to carry home a Blueray, than to carry home a DVD. The Man had done his dad proud.
Bluerays were a hit (despite the fact that they cost more than DVDs and that there was less information on the cover- due to a decrease in cover size.) At first Bluerays received a small area of shelving at the front of all video stores, but after a short while they overtook the majority of the store and became the dominating form of home film watching. Videos were completely exterminated, they no longer had any place in our world. DVDs were moved to the back walls and bottom shelves, they couldn’t beat the crispy clearness of the Blueray disks.
People sold their DVD players and willingly replaced them with Blueray players. DVDs didn’t even get a Court of Justice.
The Man was ecstatic, he done his father proud. He was so ecstatic, that he did of over-enthusiasm. Doctors started to wonder if death by over-enthusiasm was genetic, but they let it pass. Unfortunately The Man didn’t have a son... but he did have a nephew (let’s call him The Man.)
The Man couldn’t care less about his uncle’s passing. But he did care about the money he would make from designing a better way to watch movies. The Man demolished all video stores (and while he was at it, he got rid of CD stores as well.) The poor DVDs were sold off to manufacturing companies to be recycled into goods.
At this time in history the internet was widely used, almost everyone had access to a computer. The Man opened a new video store, it was to be the only video store in the world, and it existed merely in cyberspace. “My uncles father complained of having to carry bulky things home from the video store!? Well now no one will ever have to go to the video store ever again! Muhahahahaha” off course The Man wasn’t a bad guy, but he did enjoy an evil laugh ever now and again to celebrate his accomplishments.
People of the world loved The Mans idea. They loved it so much that they demolished all stores. Not just video and technology related stores but clothes shops, restaurants, bookstores, chocolate cafes, doorknob stores and every other kind of shop that excited. It became possible to download and order EVERYTHING off the internet.
The Man was so greatly admired and idolised by the people that he became The King. Earlier I said that The King was not evil.... things change. The king became so wrapped up in power and success that he went insane. In his sleep he would hear the voice of his uncle’s father saying “we must progress” (which was rather odd because he never met his uncle’s father.)
So The King progressed. It wasn’t enough that the whole world survived through the internet, The King wanted to be even greater so he invented a 3D home film viewing experience. At first it was lame and people became fed up with the dodgy 3D glasses and their unrealisticness (which at this point in time was a real word.) So The King invented 3D film like no one could have ever anticipated. It was so life like that the people became confused between reality and film viewing. They couldn’t tell when they were asleep and when they were awake. When 4D film watching came into play, people couldn’t tell when they’d cut themselves cooking or when they were merely watching a film that involved butcher knives. The King had progressed too far.
Technology had taken over.

Weekly Helpful Hint: When someone asks you why you don’t like Bluerays say: “because there’s no need for one when we’ve already got a DVD player” and avoid telling them a 991 word story about technology domination.

The Calendar

2008-12-15T22:06:00.001+11:00

Ash gestured for Lilette to follow him away from the kitchen and into the bedroom. Epicorm wiped the tears from his checks and cheerfully waved goodbye to Lilette, she waved back feeling unexplainably pleasant - perhaps it was because other people tended not to show a great deal of interest in her.
“Bye Lilette!” called Epicorm, like she were a great distance away “do you want to play Snakes and Ladders with me when you come back?” he added with eager hopefulness.
“Sure” she promised, despite not knowing what Snakes and Ladders was.
“And then will you have lunch with us?” he asked as if he’d just thought of the idea.
“Epic” interjected Ash “stop bugging her, she has a lot on her mind right now” Epicorm’s smile faded away, and he looked like he might cry again.
“Oh, but I would love to have lunch with him!” Lilette said honestly, trying to stop Epicorm from another fit of tears.
“Really!?” Epicorm cheered, clapping his hands together. Lilette giggled, she liked how easily she could make him happy.
“Alright” Ash concluded with a smile, placing a hand on Lilette’s shoulder. He directed her through the door and into the bedroom.

Lilette was rather unconvinced that whatever it was Ash wanted to show her – a calendar or something of the sort- was going to affect Lilette in a greater way than finding out her family were being held hostage. It then occurred to Lilette that her family were at the mercy of a gang of rats, and she was at Ash’s house doing nothing to help then.
“We keep the calendar in Dad’s trunk” Ash told Lilette, as he closed the door behind him, and knelt down besides the box labelled The Wise Dreamer. “I know I’ve kept you in the dark until now, and I know you must be worried sick about your family. But you really do need to see the calendar, Dad says you don’t, but I think it’s your right.... look, I’m really sorry about everything that’s going on, and I promise to do whatever I can to get those filthy Rats out of your home. But first, you need to see the calendar” Ash pulled a golden, pine-cone-shaped key from his pocket and unlocked the big brown box before him.
He rummaged around the unorganised clutter of things, Lilette tried not to be snoopy and restrained from leaning forward and looking into the box. “It’s in here somewhere” Ash reassured her.
After a brief while of rummaging, he pulled out an average sized calendar. To Lilette surprise the calendar was not made of leaves, and the writing on it wasn’t engravings.
“The writing” Lilette wondered “how does it stay on the page?”
“It’s called ink. The people of the Overworld use it instead of carving letters into the paper”
“Paper?”
Ash briefly taught Lilette about ink and paper, and told her about the giants who live in the Overworld, whom Lilette had never heard of before.
“I know I’ve just given you a whole new world of things to think about” Ash apologised “but none of that matters right now. Here, take a look” he handed her the paper made calendar. Lilette gazed in fascination at the front page- which said nothing but ‘The Calendar’- and tried running her fingers over the ‘ink’ but to her amazement it stayed on the page. What strange magic these creatures of the Overworld used. The style of writing was very neat, the letters never changed in shape or size. Both Es looked completely identical to each other, as did the As. How did they write with such accuracy? As intrigued by their writing as Lilette was, she much preferred the wavy, elegant font of her own kind.
She looked up at Ash, to make sure it was ok to open it and he nodded. Her heart started to flutter, she wasn’t sure if opening the calendar was really something she wanted to do.
“Why don’t you sit down” Ash suggested, which only increased Lilette’s fears. People are usually asked to sit down, before they’re told bad news, to reduce the chance of them injuring themselves from shock. She wished he had said ‘don’t worry, everything will be fine, just open the calendar’ but he hadn’t, he had asked her to sit down. He would be reading her nervous emotions at this very moment, and yet he wasn’t calming her down by telling her that everything was alright. Everything wasn’t alright, Lilette concluded. She sat down next to Ash, who had gone to sit on his bed.

Lilette grasped the calendar with two hands. She could have sat on Ash’s bed for several years in preparation for opening the calendar. Ash placed a comforting hand on Lilette’s shoulder, she took in a deep breath of courage and lifted over the front page.

It was just a calendar.

The word ‘January’ was imprinted on the top of the page, as would be expected on one of Lilette’s usual leaf calendars, and every day of the month had its own little box (which wasn’t at all unusual either.) Some of the boxes were written in, saying innocently normal things like ‘Epicorm’s Birthday’ and ‘Raspberry Picking Day.’ The calendar was no more special than the one Lilette owned at her own home, despite the strange material it was made of and the ‘ink.’

Lilette looked at Ash- who had taken his hand away when she opened the calendar. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lilette spoke first “It’s just a calendar.”
“No, Lilette, it’s not just a calendar” he sounded worried that the truth may hurt Lilette “see here” he flicked a few pages over “on November 29th?” he pointed it out to Lilette, all it said was: ‘Gibberllin and Poppy wedding.’
Lilette found nothing strange about Ash’s brothers wedding day being noted on the calendar. With only three weeks left until that day would come, Lilette thought it annoyingly normal for it to be on the calendar.
“So?” Lilette asked, trying to understand what Ash what getting at.
“So, Gibs and Poppy have been dating since April. They’re very happy together, but Gibs has no intention of asking her to marry him”
“Then why are they getting married in three weeks?”
“They’re not. It’s just what the calendar says. Or rather, what the calendar foretells”
“The calendar predicts the future!?” Lilette rejoiced, glad to finally understand what was going on “so Gibberllin and Poppy are getting married in three weeks?”
“I don’t know. Gibs hasn’t spoken about it. From time to time the calendar mis-predicts our future. If they are getting married, neither of them know about it yet... Gibs hasn’t checked the calendar in a while” the novelty of knowing about a couple’s wedding before they did made Lilette giggle a little.

“Even though the calendar sometimes makes mistakes, and sometimes we (as readers of the calendar) can consciously alter its predictions.... the calendar is almost always accurate” Ash was beginning to talk seriously now, and Lilette remembered that it had been for a negative reason that he was showing her the calendar.
“Why are you showing me this?” Lilette wondered worriedly, looking deeply into Ash’s eyes as if she might be able to find the answer if she looked hard enough. He sighed sorrowfully, this was obviously the moment he had been guiding Lilette to, but also the moment he had been dreading.
“December 13th” he said simply.

Lilette turned to December. Written in the box of the 13th, in unnaturally perfect writing, were the words ‘Death of Mielou.’

Joseph and the Conception of Jesus

2008-12-13T16:45:00.003+11:00

Joseph was busy repairing a wooden chair. It took fine precision and caution to reattach the broken leg, but Joseph knew exactly what to do and had accomplished many tasks similar to this one. The sun beat down heavily on Joseph and his hands were beginning to sweat, making the delicate task before him even harder to complete.
After many hours of labouring away, Joseph looked up to find a figure walking towards him in the distance. He dropped the piece of wood he was holding, dusted off his hands and gazed out into the dark, waiting curiously to find out who was coming towards him.
He soon recognised that it was Mary, his soon-to-be-wife. Who else would come looking for him after night fall? “Joseph?” she called, and he answered back to reassure her that it was indeed him she was approaching in the dark, and not some strange man she didn’t know of. When Mary reached him they hugged briefly, he was delighted to see her beautiful face after a hard days work and wanted nothing more than to hold her.

“I have some wonderful news” Mary sang delightfully, once their embrace was over. Joseph looked at her eagerly, what a perfect wife she would make, and she brought with her good news!
“I’m pregnant!” she gasped happily, her face brighter than ever before. Joseph’s eyes widened in shock, he felt around in the dark for one of the chairs he had repaired earlier and sat himself down. The chair collapsed beneath him and he fell abruptly to the ground. He let out an angry howl and threw a piece of the chair out of his way. Mary offered him her hand, but he refused it and stood up by himself.
“Curse these wooden chairs!” Joseph yelled, furiously kicking the pile of timber. “It took me hours to fix that chair!” He tried to avoid looking at Mary, and he tried to avoid the upcoming conversation. He loved Mary dearly and didn’t want to imagine her sleeping with someone other than himself. They stood in silence, Joseph breathed heavily trying to control his rage. Once Joseph had restored himself to a slightly calmer state (one which would not see him harming Mary) he lifted his head and looked into her confused eyes.
“Joseph-”
“What’s his name?” Joseph asked, not really caring what her answer would be.
“Joseph... It’s not like that... you see-”
“I could have the whole town stone you to death! I should cancel our marriage now, I don’t need to hear your excuses... The last time I checked you were a virgin, Mary... Why would you do this too me?... I thought you loved me.” Joseph’s anger turned into sadness, his eyes filled with tears and he forced himself to look away from Mary.
“Joseph. I do love you” Mary sobbed. Joseph tried with all his might not to look up at her, but her voice was so full of sorrow that he gave into himself. Despite how badly she had betrayed him, Joseph couldn’t bare to turn his back on Mary when she sounded so upset.
“I love you too” he whispered with as little passion as possible, he wanted to make her happy and withhold his dignity, but he knew that to achieve both was near impossible.

“Please listen to me, Joseph” Mary begged, when Joseph gave no response she went on “An angel came down from heaven. It told me that I am to carry the son of God” she then added with pride “I am to call him Jesus” Joseph was appalled. Not only had his future wife slept with another man, she now stood before him blaming her present situation on God. God: the creator of all living things. She would surely be sent to hell for such a lie, how could she dare bring God into her excuses? Joseph felt his dignity blow away from him, how could he maintain his self respect when Mary so openly lied before him?
“An angel came down from heaven.... and said that you would give birth to the son of God?” Joseph recapped sarcastically, Mary nodded with timid innocence “you honestly think that I would fall for that?” Joseph temper was rising again.
“I know it sounds impossible, but-”
“Mary. How can you claim to be pregnant and a virgin? You can’t be a virgin! Why does every one call you the Virgin Mary!?”
“Actually, Joseph. They don’t call me that yet. People call me the Virgin Mary later on, when our story becomes a legend and people celebrate the birth of Jesus by receiving presents from a man who dresses in red and white and travels from house to house by reindeer” Mary reminded Joseph.
“Oh, right. Offcourse. How stupid of me” Joseph apologised “But, still. How can you be pregnant and at the same time, be a virgin?”
“The angel said that it is by the magic of God that I will be a pregnant virgin” Mary informed Joseph.

“I don’t believe any of this!” Joseph yelled rather suddenly, making Mary jump. Joseph picked up his long wooden stick- which he always carried with him, even though it was evident he could walk without it- and turned away from Mary. Despite his efforts to make a dignified exit, he stood on a splinter of wood, which went straight through his thin shoes and pierced his skin.
“Jesus Christ!” He cried, combining the pain of the splinter with the anger he felt towards his lying fiancé and her unborn baby. Joseph was certain of only one thing, the baby wasn’t his, and this pained him more than the splinter still lodged in his foot.

Thus concludes the story of why we use Jesus’ name in vein sometimes.

The Race

2008-12-11T18:32:00.001+11:00

I was looking through my old primary school workbooks, and I stumbled across this poem I wrote. Seeing as I haven’t posted anything in what - three days? I thought I’d share it with you. I could have edited it and made it rhyme better, but I decided to leave it just the way it was when I was little.
It’s called The Race:

The leopard runs faster than the fox
The rabbit pauses and on the wood he knocks
To wake up the sleeping skunk who lays there
Trust kind rabbit, no one else would ever care

Leopard sprints, he’ll win this race for sure
But fox is so clever he takes the hidden floor
Swiftly and invisibly he moves secretly
Left then right then up the old brown tree

Rabbit carries the skunk they try hard to win
She knows how important this race is for him
He wakes up and dashes off without a care
He only wants the reward, he would never share

Rabbit stops and she begins to cry
Mean skunk, she doesn’t get why
He left her so very quickly after all that she’d done
If he hadn’t then together they both could have won

Leopard doesn’t tier and he won’t till the end
The prize will fulfil him his heart it will mend
He has his own little story like all living things do
But he’ll tell no one, not even once the race is through

He could never run fast enough to out speed his past
The pretty leopard lady is a memory gone in a blast
The witty fox is getting close he’s almost in the lead
He’s clever and fearless, he doesn’t rely on speed

The fox he wants the prize to share with his family
They are going through some rough times you see
He doesn’t even think the others lives may be in tatters
When you go through hard times no one else ever matters

Rabbit only joined the race for a bit of fun
She deserves to win more than anyone
But this is no fairy tale race, she hasn’t much chance
Why can’t the world be filled with peace and romance?

There was never much hope for skunk
Off to sleep he goes in another tree trunk
He used to be happy, have friends and a heart
Until he became selfish, then it all fell apart

Rabbit makes haste she’ll try her best
She see’s skunk, having a bit of a rest
Skunk wakes up and she says hello
He gets cross and tells her to go

She apologises so genuinely to him
Skunk isn’t the smartest he’s rather dim
He shoos her away and she starts to cry
He looks up at her sorrily and asks her why

She tells him her dreams of peace
Skunk sobs like a sudden release
Of all his emotions bottled up inside
Friends they will be, skunk does decide

Together Rabbit and Skunk run to the finish
But the prize is not reachable, a far away wish
They have won a better prize than the animal that comes first will
They have won each others friendship, but to the finish they run still

So fox and leopard are both way ahead
They both won’t the prize, as I have said
Fox can see leopard and leopard will never know
Fox can see leopards heart even when it doesn’t show

Fox is so smart and can see all sorts of things
He would have won this race if he had wings
But he stays down low and hides himself
Like the rotting cookie behind your shelf

Leopard runs free in the open, fox can see his pain
But fox see’s all, the prize is still left for him to gain
So neck to neck they run to the finish… leopard comes first
Leopard casually takes the prize, as fox almost dies of thirst

Leopard is his same old self, the prize didn’t help him much
Skunk and rabbit have won a prize you can’t actually touch
Fox will head back home to his loving family, he didn’t win the prize
But he realised he’s better off than leopard, which was a nice surprise

Back to the Humans

2008-12-07T20:22:00.001+11:00

If you’ve been reading The End of Time then you would know that occasionally it cuts from the world of fairies and we delve into the lives of Luke and his family. Luke and Annie missed the train, so they are now walking across a field of daisies so Annie can make it school. Annie loves fairies like many little girls do, but Luke finds it nonsensical for her to talk about a world of make believe all the time.

Luke trudged across the daisy field, determinedly not responding his sister’s calls or looking back at her.
“Luke! Luke, wait!” there was a moment of silence, Luke heard her steps turn into a run “I can’t catch up!” Annie called and began to cry again, her steps stopped, she had apparently given up. Luke stopped walking and turned around. As much as she annoyed him, Luke cared for his sister.
“I’ll slow down, if you promise not to talk about fairies.... or magic... or any other nonsense that won’t do either of us any good” he remained standing still until Annie had caught up.
“Thank you” she said softly and took his hand in hers, Luke smiled to himself.

For lack of magical things to talk about, Annie resorted to telling Luke all about school, her evil maths teacher and her friends. Luke was delighted that Annie was capable of talking about things other than fairies, and hung on her every word with fascinated interest. He was amazed that she lived a life aside from her dreamt up world of magic.
The time passed quickly, Annie did most of the talking, which usually would have aggravated Luke but he found himself content just listening to her, asking a question or two every so often.

They soon reached the end of the daisy field, Annie let go of Luke’s hand to scratch her noise, and Luke shoved his hands back into his pockets, he was glad to be free of the burden holding her hand had become. Luke was familiar with Chestnut Road - the street at the end of the daisy field - he had been here several times.
It was dark and depressing and the large uneven cobble stones stuck up in places, making the ground unpleasant to walk on. At the end of the short gloomy street was Annie’s school, an old dingy brown building, barely big enough to comfortably school a hundred children, and yet it schooled two hundred.
Annie, however, loved school. Luke never understood her for this, he had dropped out as soon as legally possible. He imagined she would want to stay at school until the end of year twelve, but he knew she would have to drop out early, like him, to earn money.
“How late will I be?” Annie asked worried, as they staggered over the cobble stones towards the dull brown building.
“Very” Luke said plainly, deciding the simple truth was best. They didn’t hasten their pace though, and continued walking at a steady speed, being careful not to trip on the bumpy ground.

After a few paces they passed a rather, out of place, looking house. All the other houses and shops on the street were clearly visible from the road, and Luke could see into all of their windows. But this one was not like the others.
He couldn’t even see beyond the tall, black metal gates, that were covered in weeds and other unattractive and prickly looking plants. Luke stopped at the gates, trying to see up the driveway to the house. Although he couldn’t see it, he felt unusually tense, and he realised that he was afraid of the house.

He was afraid, because it was unknown.

For a second he drifted off, and began imaging haunted mansions like the ones you see at the end of happy, sunny streets in films.... streets were all the houses have freshly mown green lawns and white picket fences.
But he quickly wiped the thought from his mind, no good would come of filling his thoughts with stories. It was at this point that Luke noticed Annie’s unexplained sudden absence, he looked left and right down the street. And then, just before he was about to call her name, he saw her walking up the driveway of the secretively creepy house.
The gate was ajar, leaving just enough room for Luke to squeeze through without having to move the gate. He feared it would make a loud squeaking noise if he pushed it, as the rusting hinges suggested.
He ran up the drive way and grabbed Annie from behind, by the shoulder. She whizzed around, just a little too fast, and Luke let out a girlish squeal. He had half expected to see his sister transformed into some kind of monster, but she was more herself than ever before.
She began to giggle at the sound of her brother’s squeal. Luke heard the sudden sound of a wooden fly wire door slamming open, he whizzed around to look at the house, which was several metres away from them. Standing on the veranda was an old man. Luke gasped, less girl like this time, and took a step backwards.

The old man yelled something inaudible and pulled out a long gun. Without further notice, and before Luke could do or say anything, the old man shot Annie several times in the chest and belly, she fell heavily to the floor. Circles of blood began to show through her navy blazer, Luke fell to his knees beside her.
He had no idea what to do.
First he touched one of the wounds...but thought better of it. Touched her cheek... found no point to it. Tried to take off her blazer... but didn’t want to move her too much. Then finally he took off his own jacket and put it over her bloody body, wondering if putting pressure on bullet wounds was the way to go.
He frantically did the best he could, wishing very much that he could save her. But blood was flowing from her torso at an uncontrollable rate. He felt a sick combination of horror and nausea, as he watched more and more blood flow from his sister.
Luke looked angrily up at the veranda. The old man was now crotched over, standing only with the support of a cane “are you alright laddy?” the man called to Luke, as if nothing had happened.
Luke looked hastily back to Annie, she was no longer on the ground, but standing upright next to him. Luke stood up to feel her chest and belly, but there was nothing there.
“Get off!” she yelled “what are you doing?” she kicked his shin and Luke instinctively bent down to hold the pain.
He remembered his jacket, and how he had used it to put pressure on Annie’s wounds, but he found himself wearing the beige, corduroy jacket once again. He threw it off himself in one swift movement, examining it with terror- lying completely bloodless on the ground.
“Why don’t you children come in for a cup of tea, eh?” the old man asked sweetly... a little too sweetly, thought Luke “I have cookies” the man added, heading back into his house.
“Stop messing with me!” Luke yelled at the man “what’s going on!? What are you playing at!?” the old man looked over to Luke and said, as if he knew exactly what was going on
“I don’t know what you’re on about lad” and then added, with inarguable seriousness “come in and have a cookie, boy.”

Annie and Luke headed slowly towards the house, Luke was shaking intensely and wasn’t sure why his curiosity was overpowering his logic and sense at this point.
As they got closer to the veranda, Luke noticed the frizzy white haired man had one brown eye and one electric purple eye. Luke stared with fierce fascination.

The Dog

2008-12-04T19:19:00.002+11:00

Several months ago, in the house diagonal to ours, our neighbours bought home a new puppy. Whenever the family went out at night, the dog would bark.... for hours on end. People in our neighbourhood told them about the noise their dog made when they left it alone, but they claimed there was nothing they could do about it.
And so, we lived our lives with the occasional sleepless night, praying that the dog would one day shut the fuck up.
The morning after a particularly noisy night- thanks to the dog- we woke to find that their house had been knocked down. Our neighbours and their dog had mysteriously disappeared out of our lives. I don’t know how we failed to hear the demolition process... but it certainly was less noisy than the barking dog.
I only tell you this story because the barking dog is back. It’s back, despite the fact that the house has been nothing more than a patch of grass for months now. Perhaps it’s a ghost dog, or belongs to another one of our neighbours. The later is more likely, but the idea of a ghost dog is more exciting. Not that something that exciting would ever happen around here.
Also, I watched Keeping Mum the other day because a friend of mine told me that she watched it on Halloween. She watched it in place of a horror movie, because she had seen it before and found it scary. I had heard that it was a comedy, so the other day I rented it to clear up whether or not it would make a good Halloween horror movie. Unless there’s just something wrong with my sense of humour, it was indeed a comedy. The big sticker on the front of the DVD cover that says COMEDY, also suggests that there’s a slight possibility of it being designed to make you laugh and not to horrify you.
Now, if you haven’t seen Keeping Mum then you won’t know what happens to their neighbour’s dog, who keeps them up with its barking, and making a connection between the film and my life will have made no sense at all.

I should warn you that I’m seeing High School Musical 3 this afternoon.... just in case I don’t survive and you never hear from me again.

Epicorm and Gibberllin

2008-12-03T11:44:00.002+11:00

When we last left Lilette, Ash had just informed her that her entire family is being held hostage in their home by Rats, under the order of the Rat King. Ash then told her that there was something he needed to show her, thus taking Lilette to his toadstool home.

“Come” said Ash, placing his hand on Lilette’s back, politely allowing her to enter before him.
“Thanks” she murmured at a near whisper, her insides buzzing with the feeling of his touch. They entered a semi circular shaped room, empty of people. The room was rather small, all the items of furniture and belongings took up the majority of what little space there was, making Lilette feel somewhat claustrophobic. Next to each of the four wooden framed cotton beds (lined up on the wall farthest from the door) was a large wooden box, the wooden boxes were separately labelled Gibs, Ash, Epic and The Wise Dreamer.

Lilette fixed her gaze upon Ash’s box, wondering what he kept inside.
“All of our belongings are kept in those boxes. My brothers, my dad’s and mine” Ash informed her, leaving Lilette feeling slightly embarrassed that she’d been staring at them. Besides the beds and boxes, the only other object in the room was a blue wardrobe, built especially to fit the curve of the semi circular room. A dim red light hung from the centre of the rooms ceiling, light enough to see clearly but dark enough to sleep if you wished.

“Where are your brothers?” asked Lilette curiously “and your dad?” Ash gestured to the wooden door in the middle of the wooden wall that the wooden framed beds were lined up on. To get to the door they walked in between Epic and Ash’s beds. Ash opened the door and Lilette followed him into the kitchen.

The room was the same size and shape as the bedroom. It was, however, a lot brighter than the other room, there were square holes cut evenly into the toadstool walls. Doing the job of windows and letting in sunlight. Lilette observed the room as being a kitchen/ dining room, fitted with all things needed to cook and eat. Sitting at the large dining table – which took up the majority of the space – were three Fairies. The boy closest to Lilette was very skinny, more bony than anyone Lilette had ever stumbled across. His body appeared to be too long for him, leaving him with a clumsy and lanky persona. He was content to absently look through a piece of transparent red paper, his face full of childish amusement.

The boy next to him wasn’t quite as skinny, he was more similar in shape and size to Ash (normal weight and a little taller than average.) Lilette wondered if he was older or younger than Ash, she would have guessed the same age, but she didn’t suspect them to be twins. He sat with an overacted display of maturity, trying to look proper as he wrote neatly onto a leaf. Lilette thought he just looked snobby.

On the far end of the table was an old man. Older, Lilette thought, than what Ash’s dad was going to be. He had white, wildly frizzy hair, his face seemed aged with knowledge. Lilette had never sensed wisdom by purely looking at someone’s face before. The old man sat with his eyes closed, but Lilette guessed he was doing something other than resting.

“Dad?” said Ash, closing the wooden door behind him, but only his two brothers looked up at him “Dad!?” he said loudly and with more irritation than before. The old man didn’t stir.
“Dad” said the snobbish brother, his eyes didn’t leave the leaf he was writing on.
The old man opened his eyes slowly at the sound of the snobbish brothers voice, Ash sighed in a ‘why does it never work when I do it’ way.

Lilette noticed that one of the old man’s eyes was brown, and the other was electric purple, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop from gasping.

“This is my dad, Jacob...” Ash began to introduce his family, but was interrupted by his father.
“Please. Call me.... The Wise Dreamer” Jacob said slowly, with intended dramatised mysticism. Ash rolled his eyes. The old man stood up, with the help of his cane, and headed to the door “now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to attend to.” And with that, Jacob left.
Ash bid his father farewell and continued the introductions
“This is my brother Epicorm” Ash pointed at the lanky boy, who looked away from the transparent red paper and said
“Look through this! Look through this! It’s so exciting! It’s called CELLOPHANE!!! It makes the whole world red!” Lilette giggled at his enthusiasm and accepted the offer of looking through his ‘cellophane.’
“Yeah” Lilette said “it does make everything red” she tried to sound excited, but her attempts were pitiful. She handed the paper back, thanking him for letting her see.
“It’s called cellophane!” Epicorm informed her for a second time.
“Yes, I know” Replied Lilette, starting to wonder if there was something wrong with him “and it makes the world red” Epicorm nodded passionately, amidst a seizure of his own hysterical laughter.

“Ok, Epic” Ash warned, but Epicorm kept laughing “Epic! Enough!” Ash yelled firmly. Epicorm burst into a fit of tears, which Ash ignored. “Sorry about that” Ash said to Lilette “he may be twenty-one on the outside, but inside he’s still three” he said with more irritation than concern. “And, last of all, we have my brother Gibberllin” Gibberllin looked up from his writing, stood up, and shook Lilette’s hand.
“It’s lovely to finely meet you Lilette” he said with smooth, literate accuracy. Lilette wouldn’t have been surprised if he spent his spare time practising how to greet people properly.
“But... how do you know my name?” Lilette asked bewildered.
“You haven’t told her?” Gibberllin asked Ash, disgusted with worry.
“No, not yet, Gibs. That’s why she’s here. I thought it would be easier to show her, rather than tell her” when Ash spoke back to Gibs he adopted a ‘don’t think you’re always the right one, you’re no smarter than me’ tone.

“Come” Ash said, returning his attention to Lilette “and I’ll show you the calendar.”

For Andrew

2008-11-29T17:13:00.003+11:00

A friend of mine asked me to write a blog, purely about our drama class. And so, without further ado, I present (for you, Andrew) ‘Year 9 Are Animals’:

A teacher called Alan, ah, I mean... Mr Howman (How – Man) is the new teacher (and is played by me.) After hitching all the way from Byron Bay, he finds himself confronted with a class of year 9s who want nothing but to muck about and give him grief.
His first day of school isn’t very pleasant, and to top it all off he doesn’t make a very good first impression with the teachers. Les Willis - an experienced teacher at the school – thinks Alan is a student, because he isn’t wearing a tie, and also isn’t too fond of the idea that Alan is from Byron Bay. Alan missed the pre-term staff meeting the day before, which sets him off to a bad start with the school principle.
The only person on Alan’s side in the beginning is his old friend, Marie Forbes, who has let Alan stay with her while he’s in Melbourne. What Alan doesn’t know, is that she has a crush on him.
Alan organises an excursion for his class, all about Ancient Egypt. Kelly, one of Alan’s students, tries to get away without paying for the excursion. But Alan sees money fall out of her pocket, and gets rather annoyed that she tried to talk her way out of paying. Kelly also has a crush on Alan, and runs away when he gets upset at her.
When they get back to school, all the teachers are appalled that Alan didn’t take greater care with his students. They tell him that to be a good teacher you have to give them what they expect, as in: sit them down, shut them up and tell them what to do.
Alan takes on the expected approach to teaching, he doesn’t let his students mess around and tries his hardest to accomplish order in his class room. Although he succeeds in controlling his students, he goes too far and crosses the line between strict teacher and control freak teacher who doesn’t even listen to his students.
Due to Arthurs ‘problem’ he runs out in the middle of Alan’s lesson to go to the toilet. Alan forgets that Arthur has issues and regretfully overreacts. Tyson stops Alan from chasing after Arthur, reminding him of Arthur’s problem (Arthur is played by Andrew.)
Alan then decides that he should quit his job. He didn’t like being a mean teacher, and could see that it went too far. But Kelly, Amy, Tyson and Arthur stick up for Alan and declare that he’s a good teacher.

Alan: well, then. For the rest of the lesson you can do anything you want!
Students: Anything?

Alan: yes, anything.

Students: Anything?

Alan: YES ANYHTHING!!!

The moral of the story, I think, is: don’t change who you are. But everyone else has different opinions of what the moral is.

Our actual performance went pretty well. We didn’t really mess up any lines or entrances and exits... except when the boy who plays Les exited off the wrong side, and had to run across the stage to get to the side he was supposed to be on. Also, my clip board wasn’t behind the couch. Who stole my clipboard?

There you are, Andrew, I know you said to mention everyone’s names but I’m not sure they’d all appreciate it.

While I’m talking about Andrew and drama, I think I’ll mention that I beat him in a sprinting race on Thursday! Although, according to him, it’s not much of an accomplishment because he’s gay.... but I don’t see how being gay would make you a slower runner than others. HA, I BEAT YOU!

Weekley Helpful Hint: Little sisters can kill weasles with tea towels

The Rat King's Evil Plan

2008-11-28T20:25:00.002+11:00

And now for the next segment of The End of Time:

The sun made Lilette’s eyes squint, and she woke up begrudgingly. Her eyes took a while to adjust to the burning brightness, but eventually her vision was clear enough to take note that she was in the middle of a tree ridden forest. Then, like a pin prick, she remembered the previous night. How Mielou and Ash had had a disagreement over the Pixies, and how Lilette and Mielou were now in a random forest, God knows how far away from each other.
“Mie!?” she called, stumbling about. She walked around for a short while, calling Mielou’s name, she hadn’t looked for long enough to start getting worried when Mielou returned her calls.
“We’re over here!” Mielou called back.

Lilette followed the call around a tree, Ash and Mielou looked up at her. Neither of them where happy.... at all. What had their fight come to? They both looked deeply grieved and in despair. Ash had his arm around Mielou, she had fresh tears on her face.
“What’s going on?” Lilette asked, something wasn’t right. They seemed too upset for it to still be about their fight last night.
Ash took his arm from around Mielou, kissed her cheek, whispered something to her and walked over to Lilette.
“We need to talk” he said seriously and prompted Lilette to walk with him. Lilette’s breathing got heavier, she was beyond worried now.
“Is everything ok?” she asked, trying to stay positive and calm, as they walked along. Mielou was now out of site. They stopped walking and Ash turned to face her.
“No. Everything’s not fine” he was noticeably hesitant to tell Lilette.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” Lilette spluttered, letting go of her positive/ calm approach.

Ash sighed deeply and frowned with worry.
“There’s no easy way to tell you this” he began “you’re family are being held hostage.... The Rat Soldiers have taken over Peppermint Tree” he left the sentence hanging, and waited anxiously for Lilette’s response.
Her mouth dropped open slightly. What kind of a sick joke was this?
“You’re joking right?” she said, trying with all her might to believe that it was indeed a joke.
“No. This is no Joke, Lilette” he warned seriously “the Rat King has had a sudden need, or rather: a sudden want, for a family of Elf servants. Don’t worry, you’re family are still at Peppermint Tree. The Rats are waiting until they’ve captured your entire family, because the Rat King won’t allow an incomplete family of servants.... that isn’t his style. Once they have all the members of your family, they’ll recruit them to Rat Cavern, were they plan to make servants of your family. The Rat King is known for being brutally harsh to his servants.... empathy is also not his style” Ash had given her far too much to think about, she hadn’t even accepted that he wasn’t joking yet. She tried to get her head around the situation. She could barely remember what Ash had just said, something about Rats, Kings, servants and her family being held hostage? A million questions whizzed through her mind, she quickly plucked one out to ask.

“Who in my family hasn’t he captured yet?” she said, despite the fact that a question more along the lines of: ‘what can we do to help?’ would have been more fitting.
“Well, you, offcourse” he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. As Lilette frowned in deep thought, trying to process what he was saying, Ash continued “and that’s not all” he said, the worried look back on his face “but I don’t think I can just tell you”
“Can’t tell me!? Can’t tell me what!?” Lilette said raising her voice in anger. Ash remained calm.
“You wouldn’t believe me” he said certainly.
“Wouldn’t believe you!?” Lilette yelled “I believed that a bunch of rats have my family held hostage! If I believe that, don’t you think I’ll believe anything!?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Ash said evenly, motioning with his hand for Lilette to settle down “It’s something that needs to be seen to be believed..... by anyone”
“Oh” she blushed.

Ash held out his hand for Lilette to take. She hesitated, not wanting to seem too eager. When she took his hand in hers a current flew up her body. She wondered if it was a supernatural power of Ash’s, but didn’t think on it for too long, she wanted to fight her love sickness, and rescue her family.

He flittered his wings and they gained air, Lilette loved the feeling of knowing that the direction they were heading was completely intentional. Despite their dire situation, Lilette felt a mild surge of jealousy, as she wished that she too could have wings and determine the path of her flight.

It didn’t take long – not nearly as long as it would have taken Lilette by herself – until they were flying over a field of toadstools, which Lilette recognised as Mielou’s home town. All the toadstools looked identical to one another from above: large, red and spotted white. Still holding Lilette’s hand, Ash flew the two of them gently down to the field.

From the ground the toadstools weren’t as pretty, all that could be seen of them was their thick brown stems - large enough to house a family - and if Lilette were to look up she would see the wrinkly brown bottom of the toadstool – not nearly as attractive as the hand painted rooves.

Every pale brown stem possessed a door, the doors were often hard to find seeing as they blended in so nicely with the stem, so as Lilette looked around she saw several Fairies feeling impatiently around the stems of their houses hoping to succeed in finding the door, so that they could go inside and have a nice cup of tea by the fireplace.

“This way” Ash instructed, letting go of Lilette’s hand and pointing to a toadstool several doors away. He walked briskly, forcing Lilette to run every few steps in order to keep up.
They reached Ash’s house, Lilette took in a deep breath, full of nervousness and guilty excitement about what Ash was going to show her.

Daydreamer

2008-11-26T20:31:00.003+11:00

Well, the technology strike’s over. I recommend taking a break from technology, even just for a day, it’s rather liberating. Saying that, I must add, don’t go on a strike from my blog (or from watching Heroes.)

If you’ve ever been on a technology strike, you’ll know that the best ‘legal’ replacement for TV and other technology related entertainment is reading books. It’s not that I didn’t read books before, but I read a lot more last week than I usually do.

Last summer I read Atonement, and even though I was holidaying on an island off Singapore (where there was plenty to do) I didn’t want to do anything but read. My point is, it’s a good book, and so - during my technology strike - I went and borrowed some of Ian McEwan’s other books (Ian McEwan being the author of Atonement.) The reason I’m telling you this isn’t quite as pointless as it may seem..... although there isn’t a great deal of point to what I’m about to talk about.

‘The Daydreamer’ is a short novel written by Ian McEwan. It’s about a ten year old boy (Peter) who often daydreams, the book mostly consists of his actual daydreams. As clever and funny as the book is, it’s also impossible to ignore how strange it is. In one chapter Peter ‘unzips’ his cat down the middle of its belly, the cats soul then rises out of the unzipped animal. To make things weirder, Peter ‘unzips’ himself to release his own soul. The cat’s soul then goes into Peter’s body, and Peter’s soul goes into the cat’s body. Leaving Peter to live life as a cat, temporarily.

Now. Last week I left you with a riddle. The answer to that riddle is in fact NOTHING. Because nothing is greater than God, nothing is more evil than the devil, the poor have nothing, the rich need nothing and we would die if we ate nothing.

There are problems with the answer to the riddle. Like: poor people don’t have ‘nothing’ because then they would lack everything including their lives. And, I’m sure that there are plenty of rich people who need things, even if it is just a wine glass holder for the jacuzzi in their bedroom.

But we ought not to look too deeply into the, apparently unquestionable, answer to the riddle. It’s probably best if we blindly trust the unknown source that gave the answer. We should forget that when we walk with our eyes close, we tend to bump into things. Things such as the walls of conformity, built by the faceless people who believe the riddle’s answer is correct merely because everyone else does.

Or maybe we should just move on and talk about last week’s episode of All Saints briefly. If you’ve been a regular reader of my blog since its creation, then you’ll know that Mark Priestly committed suicide a few months ago and although I tend to make my blog a place of light subject matter, I do need to mention him. Last week they played the last episode he’ll ever appear in. To rule out his character (Dan) from the show, they wrote the script so that he “moved to his family’s farm indefinitely.”

So Dan has moved indefinitely to the country, and Mark Priestley became indefinitely absent. The phrase ‘Indefinitely absence’ was a feeble attempt of mine to soften the truth (that he is now dead.) But it actually just rubs in the fact that when you die you’re gone forever, so it didn’t work very well. Much like when my dad said “how’s the..... liquid oozing from your nose.... problem, going?” to my sister, when she had a cold. This was – apparently- an attempt to prevent disturbing images arising in our minds, whilst we ate dinner. However, saying ‘how’s the cold going?’ would have been a lot less visually descriptive.

I mentioned Mark Priestley again because now that he no longer appears on TV, he needs people like me to keep his memory alive on things like internet blogs.

I shall post the next segment of ‘The End of Time’ tomorrow.... possibly.

Weekly Helpful Hint: Read ‘The Daydreamer’ by Ian McEwan. It will take you little over an hour.

Technology Strike

2008-11-18T18:11:00.002+11:00

As you may have gathered from the title of this post, I’m taking a break from using technology. It’s only for a week and starts as soon as I finish watching All Saints tonight (because I’m dying to see if Erica survives and if it’s Mark Priestley’s last episode, I don’t think I could wait another week to find out.)

It’s not a complete strike, I’ll allow myself to do some technology related things. Like, for example: validating my train ticket. I don’t think the ticket inspectors will except “actually, I’m on a technology strike and couldn’t use the ticket validating machine” as an excuse.

I’m also not going to go out of my way to avoid the day to day technology that’s uncontrollably necessary in my life. Like, for example: I won’t cover my ears in an attempt to avoid hearing the school bell that plays several times a day.

But I will stop watching TV, listening to my Ipod and going on my computer, which includes (unfortunately and regretfully) this blog.

It may pain you to live without my posts (although you all seemed to cope alright when I had exams) but remember, I’ll be back in a week.

You may ask why I’m doing this. But if you did, I wouldn’t be sure what to reply.

I’ll leave you all with a riddle which - although I solved it rather quickly - will hopefully keep you occupied for a week until I return:

What is greater than God

More evil than the devil

The poor have it

The rich need it

And if you eat it, you'll die?

Kordail

2008-11-17T13:05:00.003+11:00

Well, my exams are over now. You can expect to see more than one blog a week again. Firstly, it appears my word game has shrivelled up, gone into hibernation or taken a trip to Paris because no one’s added a word in ages.
Maybe it’s because it’s no longer on the main page of my blog, and now you need to click September and then Word Game to play it. Or possibly because people have been busy with exams. It could also be because you’re all over the word game.... but I prefer the first two options.

Weekly Helpful Hint: if you like Emma Watson, then watch the movie Ballet Shoes.

I’m really tired now- I had drama all day yesterday- so this is going to be a pathetically miniature post, pretty much just letting you all know I’m alive, because I don’t have the energy to write much more than that. In fact it’s so small, I’ve decided to just combine it with the next segment of my story ‘The End of Time.’

Lilette was obviously overreacting. Creatures – no matter how green or wrinkly they may be – who dance and drink punch, generally aren’t sinister. And so, after a few seconds of being petrified, Lilette concluded that nothing was going to happen and that she had merely overreacted.

The jazzy music resumed playing, it was only then that Lilette realised it must have stopped when she knocked the punch table. The red and yellow lanterns were beginning to flicker gently in the breeze, creating a romantic feel to the not so romantic situation.

The unsightly dancing couple continued to stare at Lilette, there intentions and thoughts were unclear and they appeared to be emotionless. The shorter of the two seemed to whisper something to the other, before returning to the wooden dance floor to continue dancing. Lilette swallowed hard, as she tried to convince herself that the lingering creature was harmless.

“Hello. I’m Kordail” he spoke in a deep musical voice, that made Lilette want to cry with joy. Now that she had heard him speak, it was clear he was a male. Although his voice emitted the most wonderful sound Lilette had ever heard, his appearance still disturbed her greatly and she felt uneasy in his presence.

“I’m sorry if we scared you” he apologised, his musical tone sounded honestly in the need of Lilette’s forgiveness “I understand... I would be scared of me too.” He added, full of shame and self belittlement “but. Perhaps. If you can find the will power to see me for who I really am, then we could be friends?” he proposed eagerly.

Lilette now had two choices. She could either run off into the woods, and never see the boy again. Or she could make a new friend.

“I’m Lilette” she said, still not making eye contact “I’m sorry I overreacted, you’re not that scary” she lied, trying to make amends for her earlier instinctive reactions.
“I’m not that scary? But you cannot bring yourself to look at me” Kordail said, more to himself than to Lilette, his anger and sorrow were aimed only to himself, there was nothing to suggest that he blamed Lilette for the way she felt. She couldn’t bear listening to him deject himself in such ways.

And so she looked at him. Properly this time. She looked right into his eyes, something she had failed to do up until now. At first they were blue, and as normal looking as any other eyes Lilette had ever seen. She was somewhat amazed that this wrinkly green creature could have such normal eyes. And so she stared at them. While fulfilling her intriguement she hoped that this would take away some of Kordail’s self hate.

As she continued to gaze mindlessly into his eyes, all the negative thoughts and fears in her system inexplicably vanished and she felt a warm sensation radiate through her entire body.

She looked deeper into his eyes and began to see all the events in her life that had ever made her happy, she saw herself laughing with Mielou, licking a lolly as a child, spinning around in circles, talking to Ash, watching the sun set and making pancakes with her mum all at the same time.

She watched as everything positive in her life played before her very eyes, in someone else’s eyes. She could think of nothing else except for complete joy, she forgot where she was. There was a wall between her and all negative thoughts, nothing could penetrate this wall, she didn’t even think about it.

It could have been years, seconds or a lifetime when Lilette blinked and broke the blissful life playback. “Wow” she exhaled, finding herself low on air, like she’d been holding her breath.

“What was that?” she questioned fascinated.
“You’ve heard of Fairies having powers, have you not? This is the power of Pixies” Kordail uttered proudly, in his deep musical tone that Lilette couldn’t get over.
“You’re a... Pixie?” Lilette had never heard of such things before.
“I am indeed. My name is Kordail, and I would like to be your friend” he put the proposal of friendship out into the open for the second time that evening.

Lilette was suddenly aware of time again, and began to remember the events that occurred seconds before she saw her whole life flash before her. She remembered wanting to run away last time he had asked to be friends, now she was honoured that such a wonderful creature would want to be friends with her.
“I’m Lilette” she informed him.... again.
“Yes, I think I recall you telling me that” he teased “I only told you my name again, because I thought you might be able to see me differently now. I thought I might be a new person through your eyes and felt we needed a fresh start” he said as if there should be no doubt that he was correct.

Lilette couldn’t argue with what he had said, it was completely true. But she felt bad that it took her so long to be able to see him for who he was, and not for what he looked like.
“I only told you my name again, because I used to be blind and now I can see.” She said, hoping not to sound to cliché, but at the same time undo the effects of her first impressions reactions.
“Does this mean we can be friends?” he sang hopefully.
Just as Lilette was about to say something along the lines of ‘yes, offcourse this means we can be friends’ she was unexpectedly grabbed by the wrist and pulled away from Kordail.

“We have to get out of here!” yelled Mielou tugging Lilette by the wrist “What hideous creatures! I can’t believe you brought us here, Ash!” she pulled Lilette along, Ash ran beside them. Lilette wanted to put up a fight but found herself incapable of defying Mielou, she wanted very much to talk to Kordail some more, but she allowed Mielou to pull her further and further away from the party. They were soon ages away.

“Mielou!?” cried Lilette, releasing herself from Mielou’s grasp. They stopped running and faced each other. “I didn’t want to leave!” she yelled, but made no attempt at going back. She concluded now that it was Mielou’s supernatural persuasive powers that had prevented Lilette from trying to break away before.
“Did you see those creatures Lilette!?” Mielou shouted back, a look of fear still enveloped her face.
“They’re completely harmless, Mie. Do you really think I would put you in danger?” Ash said with a calm annoyance.
“He’s right, Mie. They’re really nice. I don’t think they’d ever hurt us.” Lilette agreed, trying to reassure and comfort Mielou.
“Did any of you see them!? Mielou bellowed, tears now streaming down her cheeks “or are you all blind!?”
“You’re the blind one” Ash murmured through his teeth, and flew off into the night.

Mielou collapsed to the grassy ground, and sobbed loudly into her hands. Lilette sat down and put an arm around her friend, but Mielou pushed her away.
“Leave me alone” Mielou hissed bitterly. Lilette stood up and slowly backed away, she had no idea where they were, and it was still the middle of the night. So she walked over to a not so distant tree, and sat down. Hopefully all would be well by morning.

What Has The World Come To?

2008-11-07T19:10:00.003+11:00

Moving Heroes to 10.30pm!?
Like 9.30pm wasn’t late enough!

Weekly Helpful Hint: watch Heroes this Thursday. Maybe the ratings will go back up and they’ll reschedule it to a more sane hour to watch TV.

Halloween

2008-11-02T18:35:00.002+11:00

Well, I thought I’d take a break from my exam studying, and write a blog.

“Trick or Treat, give us a sweat, or we’ll repossess your house and roll you down the street” – sings my cousin.

As you probably know it was Halloween on Friday. I love Halloween, it’s a heap of fun. And although we don’t live in America I tend to go Trick or Treating. So, this year me, my sister and my cousins dressed up and went knocking on strangers doors asking for candy.

If you’ve ever seen a peacock behind an x-ray machine then you’ll be able to imagine what my mum’s costume looked like.... but apparently my court jester outfit was the scariest of all.

I don’t know what supernatural things you believe happen on Halloween, but when it buckets down with rain - the split second you walk out the door – then you start to believe that there is some higher being who has a personal grudge against you. Much like my maths teacher (I refer to her in regards to the ‘personal grudge’ comment not the ‘higher being’ comment.)

Soaking wet, we headed off to my cousins teachers house (who told his students to come Trick or Treating at his place.) On the way we encountered a lonely elderly woman (who wouldn’t stop talking) a woman (who almost released her hounds on us) a young man (who slammed the door in our face) and numerous tooting cars.

There are three sorts of people:
1. The people who hate Halloween, find it too American, and pull out the shot gun.
2. The people who think it’s great you’re Trick or Treating, have decorations everywhere, and have lots of candy prepared for you.
3. The people who didn’t expect Trick or Treaters and are rather apologetic for not having anything.

We came across all three (except, no one pulled out a shot gun, thank goodness.) Next year, if you’re thinking of going Trick or Treating, go to your local supermarket, video store and Subway. They give away awesome things. And don’t go into houses that say ‘beware of the dog’ because generally there is a dog you should beware of. You may like to try waving at a passing train, we did, and the train driver – who I suspect was a person #2 – gave as a nice, little musical toot.

Nice, little musical toots given by trains always make you feel special.

Well, that was my Halloween. How was yours? ....... *note to self: when I ask general questions like that on my blog, people have tended not to respond*

The other day – bear with me as I’m about to get random- I stumbled across a song called ‘Bella Luna’ and bought the entire album so I could hear this song. It wasn’t until after I’d bought the album that I discovered you can just listen to it for free here:
http://www.jango.com/music/Jason+Mraz?l=0

There was no point to that little story. It’s just because I’m listening to the album right now, and it gets better every time I hear it. If you do follow the link, listen out for the part where Jason Mraz goes “like a ring around the finger of a girl” merely because it sounds.... cool.

Weekly Helpful Hint: When your parents say “let’s go to the new shopping centre and have a look around for an hour!” what they really mean is “We need new glasses, so we’re going to OPSM to spend THREE WHOLE HOURS trying millions of glasses on, in a very indecisive, dull manner.”

I best be getting back to my exam studying now.... that was a lie, I’m actually about to have dinner.... not that you needed to know that.