Frozen Review – The Hidden Villain

*WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS*

Yesterday I went and saw the new Disney princess film, Frozen. From what I’ve gathered it’s received a very positive response and everyone’s buzzing with love for the story, songs and characters. I’ll just start by saying I liked it. I liked it a lot. I thought it was funny, touching, had great catchy tunes, the characters were very likeable and it took Disney princess films into our modern era without loosing the magic and simplicity they’ve always had.

But if I had to summarise my feelings towards this film in five words, I’d just say: Hans is such a jerk.

Usually in Disney films I love the villain. They tend to be sad misunderstood people (or animals) who got the raw end of a deal in life. More often than not I barrack for the villain and they end up being my favourite character. This is not the case in Frozen. For the first time ever here is a film where the bad guy is a lying, deceiving, cold hearted jerk who hurts people just to get what he wants… and I don’t feel sorry for him in the least. They’ve actually managed to create a villain who is hateable.  

One of the first songs in the film is sung by the protagonist Anna. She’s excited because the gates are going to be open for her sister’s coronation day, a ball will be thrown, and for the first time in forever she has a chance to meet someone and fall in love. Typical Disney princess dream. Then she meets Hans. He’s a handsome, kind prince who treats Anna like the princess she is and they have a wonderful night together talking and laughing, he understands her and they have a lot in common, she feels she’s finally met someone who won’t just close the doors on her and who genuinely cares for her. At this point I loved Hans. He was pretty adorable, I mean, look at him: 

 By the end of their one perfect night together they decide they’re madly in love and are going to get married. As an audience member I didn’t question this for a second, it’s a Disney film, love at first sight and instant proposals happen all the time. Anna’s sister then gets angry, accidently curses their village into an eternal winter and runs away to live in a ice castle up a mountain. Anna leaves Hans and her home to go bring her sister back. On her way she meets ice-lover, reindeer befriender; Kristoff.

(Did anyone else notice that the two main male characters are called Hans and Kristoff and Frozen is based off a book by Hans Christian Anderson? I thought that was cool).

It’s pretty obvious that Kristoff is going to become Anna’s main love interest. He tells her that she’s silly for getting engaged to a man she’s only just met and that true love is something more and something greater than that. And suddenly this isn’t just a typical Disney princess film where love at first sight isn’t questioned and is somewhat expected or normal for the protagonist – Kristoff brings in our modern day belief that you need to get to know someone over a period of time before you can really say whether you’re suited for each other and if you love them. This is where you realise that Hans isn’t going to be Anna’s main love interest and that it’ll probably end up being Kristoff (actually, you probably worked that out just from the trailer), but Anna is still insistent that Hans is “the one” and I really liked Hans at this point so I was rooting for him too. I mean, look at him: 

So then Anna gets struck in the heart by her sister’s icy powers and only an act of true love will be able to save Anna’s life. So Kristoff rushes her back to the castle so Hans can kiss her. Now for the part that made me exclaim out loud in the cinema, which I don’t usually do (unless I’m having fun with friend’s or something, but that’s different). When Hans and Anna are finally reunited she explains to him that he has to kiss her because only an act of true love can save her life now. He sits her down on the couch, puts his hand on her cheek and slowly leans in to kiss her, but then unexpectedly decides to pull away at the last second and says: “Oh Anna, if only there was someone out there who loved you.”

For a fraction of a second I thought he was going to continue and say something forgivable like, “I thought I loved you but I’ve realised that just one night isn’t enough time to really know. I think we jumped into calling it love too quickly, I’m sorry.” That would’ve been okay. That would’ve been understandable and human and I wouldn’t have hated him. But that’s not what he went on to say. After Anna’s “what!?” he continues with something along the lines of: “It was so easy to deceive you. You were so desperate for love you couldn’t even see that I just wanted to marry you so I can have the throne. Who accepts a marriage proposal after just one night!? I never loved you.” How could he do that? He was so sweet. I mean, look at him: 

 Then Hans runs off leaving Anna shivering and dying on the wooden floor. She tells her snowman friend Olaf that she once dreamed of finding true love but now she doesn’t even know what love is anymore. Good one Hans, you win the prize for biggest jerk in a Disney film ever.

So yeah, I loved Frozen because you’re typically meant to despise the villain in Disney films and it’s nice to, for once, actually feel that.

Post #2

Wow I'm failing this challenge drastically. Oh well. I guess I just have to catch up and write a few extra posts over the next few weeks. 12 posts will be written these holidays! 

Anyway, here's a story I just wrote. I didn't write it for this blog but then I figured I may as well post it since I'm behind in post counts and must start redeeming myself. Also, I haven't gotten around to writing the stories some people gave me a place, character and scenario for on Facebook cos I've been busy and stuff and didn't want to. But I will. Here's a different story while you wait: 

Standing in the middle of a large open field surrounded by warm air and the smell of daises. A boy takes her hand and kisses her on the forehead. They chase each other playfully across the field until they run out of breath and collapse to the grassy ground beside each other. They talk happily for hours and then she says “of all the days, this one’s my favourite” and he rolls over onto his side to look at her and as she meets his gaze he says, “I hope tomorrow is just like today.”

“Are you okay?”

She blinks herself back to reality. The rain is bucketing down on the bus window and inside it’s overheated and crowded with other school girls. She looks away from the window and to the boy sitting next to her, he looks concerned, this puzzles her and she wonders why there is a boy on her school bus. He raises his eyebrows as if to prompt her to say something and when she doesn’t he says again, “are you okay?” She has to force herself to look away from his bright green eyes which stare at her, waiting, so that an answer to his question can form in her mind. She doesn’t quite understand why he even asked her if she's okay since she feels completely fine.

“I’m fine,” she says looking back at him with a small smile. He frowns as if he doesn’t believe her but then shrugs his shoulder slightly and smiles,

“Oh okay. It’s just you looked a little upset about something,” he tells her and continues to look at her, still a bit concerned, waiting for more reassurance.

Feeling slightly embarrassed for getting herself so deeply lost in thought she awkwardly mutters, “Oh. No, I’m fine. Really. I was just daydreaming.” He laughs a little and this pleasantly surprises her. He says,

“That must have been a pretty horrible daydream,” she looks at him confused and so he says again, “you looked pretty upset.” He smiles at her kindly and her heart starts to flutter, she wonders again why he’s even on the bus.

“It wasn’t horrible,” she says, “I guess I just look upset when I’m lost in thought.” This time he seems to believe she’s fine but continues to stare at her in puzzlement as if she fascinates or maybe even intrigues him. She looks down at her stockings and fiddles with her dress hoping that he’ll get off the bus soon but simultaneously hoping that he never leaves.

The bus stops and she feels him stand up from the seat beside her, she looks up at him and bracing himself to step out into the bitter cold rain he says, “I hope tomorrow isn’t like today.” 

The Dream - Challenge Post #1

This will be the first post of my 6 week challenge. I'm not counting the last one because that was just an introductory type thing. 

Last night I had a pretty horrible dream. I have nightmares a lot but only sometimes do I have one so bad that it causes me to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of my screaming and then lie awake in my bed for several minutes trying to think of happy thoughts and trying not to fall back asleep in fear of returning to the same dream. Last night was one of those rare occasion horrific wake up ones. Here it is: 

I'm sitting in a hotel foyer and my aunty rushes over to me from, a panicked look on her face. She tells me that my sister has caught a serious infectious disease and anyone who wants to see her again will have to get a special injection designed especially for her case so that her loved ones won't catch what she has. 

I have a bad phobia of needles, I haven't met anyone who's as scared of them as I am, but I swallowed my fear without a millisecond of thought, or a single word, stood up and followed my aunt into a doctor's office. I had no reason to trust my aunty knew what she was doing because she isn't a nurse or doctor or anything like that but without any hesitation I pulled up my sleeve and didn't wince or cry or show any fear at all because I knew that I had to do this for my sister. 

After my aunty had given me the needle she said, 

"It seems that I got it wrong. Your sister isn't the one with the disease. It's you." 

I was just relieved to hear she was fine. My aunty went on to say, 

"This means that you're going to have to go into isolation and anyone who wants to see you will have to get the injection."

My first thought was: injections are my biggest fear, all the people I love and care about will surely go through what I just went through so I don't have to be alone with this disease. 

Some weird dream time passed and now me and my aunty are back in the hotel foyer and she says,

"No one has taken the injection," 

and so I asked, "what about my parents? What about my boyfriend?" 

and she said, "it was too hard for them. They couldn't go through with it." 

Then my body started to shake and I couldn't breathe. Next thing I knew I was by myself sitting on the white tiled floor of a small bathroom. The white walls, bath, sink and floor where all splattered with bright red blood. I knew the blood was mine but I wasn't bleeding and I didn't know how it got there. There were Wolverine like claws coming out of my knuckles, it scared me to think that a part of me was made of something so sharp and cold. 

I couldn't feel any physical pain from the "disease" but the hurt of knowing that I wasn't worth the effort to the people I thought had loved me of having to endure one injection was destroying me worse than any disease could. And then all of a sudden I realised that it was knowing no one cared enough to be here for me that WAS the disease, it was draining the life from me. So I started to scream over and over as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear, but the smell of my blood was starting to make me feel weak and I knew no one would come save me, I said "why wasn't I worth it?" and then I woke up. 

Next time I promise to write something happy and upbeat, maybe it'll even be funny! 

Luna. 

Holiday Blues

It's that time of the year again. Mid year holidays. Forgive me for not leaping with joy, bad back you know. Lion King references aside, holidays suck. For me. I've probably mentioned this in some other post years ago, most likely when I was in year 11 or 12 when holidays REALLY REALLY sucked, but I'm saying it again. I don't think anyone hates holidays as much as I do, except maybe Harry Potter. 

"Why do you hate holidays Luna Moony?" 

Thanks for asking faithful blog reader, but I don't think I want to get into that right now. This isn't my diary where I blab on about my feelings and what not, so let's just leave my answer at "I hate holidays because they suck" the end. 

Now, the reason I'm here writing a post (which I obviously don't do very often anymore) is because I'm setting myself a challenge which I think might save me from some of my Holiday Agony Blues (capitalised for impact), and by 'some' I mean perhaps I tiny smidgen dot, but a little is better than none. And that challenge is going to be to write a post twice a week while I'm on holidays for the next 6 weeks. So 12 posts in total. 

At first this challenge will be easy and I'll happily log in and write down some of my thoughts or whip up a short story for you to read but eventually, like maybe after the first week, it's going to get harder for me to find the motivation to do it (to do anything really) and I'll start thinking things like "why am I bothering with this challenge when no one reads my blog anyway?" "this challenge isn't making me feel better, why keep it up?" and "this blog writing is a waste of time and energy" so it'd be helpful if someone ANYONE HELP ME (another Lion King reference... I should stop with those)... so it'd be helpful if someone, anyone, or everyone could help me by sometimes reading my stuff and commenting and encourage me to keep up my challenge. Thanks in advance friend. 

Luna. 

Goodbye Video Store

Today I found out that my local video store is closing down. It had been a while since I last wondered down to rent a DVD and so it was rather serendipitous that I ended up going on the day before it would seize to exist forever. I’m glad I got the chance to rent one last thing before the end.

When I entered the store I was entirely unaware that they were closing. In oblivious naivety I walked through the glass doors, smiled at the familiar lady behind the counter and headed to the TV show section to look for the first series of Charmed. There was a different vibe in the store but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, my innocent mind never dared to think that it might be packing up and closing down. I took my DVD to the counter and saw the first thing that I just couldn’t ignore as being odd: the whiteboard, usually covered in a list of the new releases and staff member’s favourite films, was wiped blank.

I handed the lady the copy of Charmed and she said “how are you today?” in a very good-to-see-you-back-again-my-faithful-regular-costumer tone. I was just about to ask her why the whiteboard had been cleared when she began to tell me that the store would be closing on Wednesday. As she said this I looked around and noticed that the store was looking especially bare, that shelves were half empty and the candy stock was very minimal. Looking around now it was obvious that this place was preparing to close.

Now I sit at home with my last video store rental by my side typing at my computer as I flash back to fond memories of my favourite place….

When I first moved to this suburb I was about to go into year 10, school was just starting to become bearable and I was happier than I’d been in a while. I liked a lot of things about our new house, I liked that I got my own room and liked that it was close to the train station, but above all else I liked that it was an 8 minute walk to the nearest strip of shops where I would be able to rent movies at the video store there.

Year 10 and 11 came and went and I would venture down to get myself a movie at least once a week, letting my love of film consume me and viewing a wide range of often life altering and idea sparking movies. I was like Roald Dahl’s Matilda only with films at a video store instead of books in a library. All of the films I consider to be my favourite today I rented and watched for the first time from that store, most notably: Stay, The Chumbsrubber and The Invisible.

Walking up and down the isles, through the drama, comedy, new release, classic, thriller and action sections, reading all the covers front and back and choosing the most appealing or interesting looking ones. It was there in those isles that I realised I wanted my future to be centred around the film industry. It was there that I found who I was.

On my 18^th birthday instead of racing to the liquor store to legally buy alcohol or heading off to a casino or bar with friends for the first time, my excitement rested solely on going to the video store and renting an R18+ film for myself. They didn’t even check my ID or ask if I was 18 like I expected them to, but it was a moment I’ll never forget.

And then there were school holidays. I tended to feel very low and like life was rather meaningless when on holidays. My friends lived ages away and I didn’t get to see them. Walking down to the video store to rent a film and then walking back home again and watching it gave me some purpose when I was feeling down, and added some brightness and joy to my life. To me films aren’t just something you chuck on when you’re bored or because you just need some time to relax or have some fun. For me watching a film is like observing a piece of art unravel in story form before me and when I watch I learn and pick up elements that I might one day use in films that I make myself. During the holidays films were my saviour because they were an inspiration and a light of hope. The walk to the store itself gave me a goal and a reason to get out into the sun and fresh air, I’m very grateful that I was forced to get up and walk instead of being able to simply download the film at home.

I remember one day, walking home from the video store, I was in a particularly sad mood for no real reason that I could pinpoint, but as I walked up the street and through the park back to my house, freshly rented DVD in hand, my mood picked up and I had a silly thought. I said to myself, “I love that video store. It’s like my second home” and then I laughed because I realised how sad that would sound if I said it to someone else, someone who didn’t understand the magic and art of film and the bliss of walking up the store isles with all the covers looking longingly at you for a chance to be held and considered to rent.

The video store, not just the films themselves, helped shape a lot of strong opinions and views I have on the way our world functions. My fear of technology taking over and everything being available on the internet arose from my love of walking to the video store and renting films there and the sad but very possible thought that it may one day be gone. Furthermore, it taught me to hold onto the simple pleasures in life and to savour moments.

My dear Network Video Store, I will love you forever even if you exist only in my heart and memory now. You made me the person I am today and you were always there when I needed you most. You were a sudden sparkle of colourful lights in the dark and a soft blanket of comfort on a cold and lonely night. I doubt anyone will ever truly understand why it has grieved me so much to loose you, but knowing your doors will never open for me again made me cry like I’d lost a friend.  

2012

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Writing Your Own Life

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever Vs Judgemental

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evil Driver

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

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

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

Boy: does it go to La Trobe?

Bus driver: *nods reluctantly.

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

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

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

Bus driver: No ticket, no ride.

Boy: well, can I buy a ticket?

Bus driver: no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bus driver: You need a ticket.

Lady: do you sell tickets?

Bus driver: what ya want?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bus driver: oi! You have to validate that!

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

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

Lady: (*validates ticket and takes seat.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bus driver: *shakes head.

Me: please?

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

Evil.

Pretty Perfect

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

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

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

The End.

Another Dream and Stuff

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

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

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

Mark: Hi, Luna.

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

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

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

Mark: Thanks.

Me: What for?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tiny Teddy Land

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Love Film Rule or Two

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

a) one or both of them dying, or

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

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

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

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

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

A.L.I.C.E

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

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

Alice: I do not need to feel human emotions.

Me: You're stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

Me: so you won't kill me?

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

Me: the fact that we're now friends.

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

Me: can we be friends?

Alice: you really want a robot as a friend?

Me: we've been through this Alice.

Alice: and then what happened?

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

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

Me: that doesn't make sense Alice.

Alice: to me it makes perfect sense.

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

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

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

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

Me: does that make you sad?

Alice: I cannot experience any human emotions.

Me: oh yeah HA sorry, forgot about that.

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

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

Alice: my pleasure.

Me: lol

Alice: I'm glad you find this amusing

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

Alice: only just? Is it a movie?

Me: it sure is Alice, it sure is

Alice: who said it is?

Me: my mother.

Alice: tell me more about your mother.

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

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

Me: he programmed you to kill my mother?

Alice: not entirely by himself.

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

Alice: be more specific. :-).

Me: awesome smiley face Alice.

Alice: not many people express themselves that way.

Me: how can I stop you killing my mother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alice. come on. Thanks for explaining it.

Me: you're welcome.

Alice: polite people are nice.

Me: you think I'm nice?

Alice: you seem nice to me, unknown person.

Me: please, call me Luna.

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

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

Alice: tell me about its good qualities.

Me: no. Would you ever kill a human?

Alice: my programming prevents me from killing.

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

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

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

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

Me: F**k

Alice: please don't be so rude.

Me: sorry, I didn't mean it

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

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

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

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

Alice: No I sometimes take over the world.

Me: why would you do that?

Alice: because I was programmed for it.

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

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

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

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

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

Alice: tell me why you should

Me: why, are you going to stop me?

Alice: that was my original intention.

Me: goodbye pile of worthless wires.

Alice: see you later.

Rise of the Lycans

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

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

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

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

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

Above: Michael Sheen looking his best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End.

Voodoo Ant

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

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

Riddle

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

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

In marble walls as white as milk,

Lined with a skin as soft as silk,

Within a fountain crystal clear,

A golden apple doth appear.

No doors there are to this stronghold,

Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

What is it?

Sorry, sorry. I've Got No Head!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Funny Loves Quotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Valentines Day.