Look at the sky.

It’s been a busy week, but I can pretty well sum it up in three sentences:

1. I can’t wait for school to be over.
2. The weather here is ridiculous.
3. Okay, we’re recording.

The third one won’t make much sense to anyone, but I’m not in a mood to elaborate. (Don’t you hate it when people do that?)

Anyway, I’m going to jump ship completely and just say that I’ve started reading Lord of the Flies, and I’m not really enjoying it. I used to think that I loved all classics, but Grapes of Wrath proved me wrong. I barely read through a chapter before returning it to the library. It felt like too much work.

Meanwhile, I watched Across the Universe the other day and it’s re-kindled my love of the Beatles. I know a lot of people hated the movie because of its obviously weak plot line, but I really enjoyed it all the same. I’ve been in a bit of a Beatles-mania all weekend.

On a totally different note, I finally got my major assessment task for my public speaking class over and done with last week. I stood in front of the class and, by myself, spoke for ten minutes with the required powerpoint presentation running behind me. My teacher seemed genuinely impressed with it, and said some really flattering things about my “spectacular public speaking skills” and having “an engaging personality”. I was completely taken aback because this particular teacher is best known for his awful temper. It was nice, though. I’ve had heaps of kids running up to me and asking me if I’ll run for school captain next year. I think I just might.

I also got my final SAC for the year out of the way. I wrote a six-page long essay comparing “Amelie” and “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” for Lit. We were allowed to choose our own texts to study and, naturally, I chose two of my favourite films to make the task more enjoyable for myself. I hope I’m not counting my eggs before they’re laid (or my chickens before they’re hatched?) when I say I think I did pretty well on this one.

On Friday, there was also a maths test that I felt pretty good about. It’s been months since I felt this confident about a maths test (I’ve had below average grades all semester) but I think I’m working my way back up to my old standards.

Anyway, the point is that, even though I have no idea why my motivation dropped so drastically over the year and I still can’t wait for ‘09 to be over, last week was a good week and right now, I feel pretty good about where I’m at and what I’m heading for.

On teenagers and parenting.

I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY FOR THE FOLLOWING WORDS.
It’s all rubbishy, self-indulgent teenage blather, stretched out to a wall of text, but this blog is my only outlet and I can’t help myself.

I spent this morning watching movies (The Goonies, The Kite Runner, The Princess Bride) with two of my closer friends, who spontaneously decided to come over. The abruptness normally isn’t an issue. My parents are pretty awesome sometimes, and have made it clear to me and my brother that friends are welcome any time. My friends take full advantage of our open door policy, and nobody minds.

Except, well, today, for the first time, I minded.

Friend ‘R’ got kicked out of her house for a night last week because she got caught with a boy her parents didn’t approve of. My parents, brilliant people that they are, spoke to her parents and told her she was welcome to stay at our house for the night.

But this friend, she got caught for the FOURTH time in five months. She’s gotten in so much trouble, she’s been grounded, been stripped of all privileges, and she’s even been offered counselling by the school. Every time she gets caught, she says “That idiot. I’m gonna beak up with him. He’s not worth the trouble” but after about a week she goes back to sneaking around with him. Last week she got KICKED OUT OF HER HOME which is a BIG deal, even if she doesn’t seem to think so. But none of the punishments are sticking, and I have no idea why this boy has such a strong hold on her but she insists on making stupid decisions for him. I’ve never met the guy (which is enough to make me worry), but I don’t like him at all. I’ve spent weeks actively discouraging her but, at the end of the day, it’s her call and she’s chosen to ignore the advice of almost all of her friends and family.

Today, while she was here, she asked to use my phone to talk to this boy because she has no phone of her own. I could hardly say no. So I listened while this boy had the nerve to try and convince her to ditch a VCE seminar that she had later in the day and to meet up with him instead, and was shocked to see that she almost agreed. Almost. It was enough to make me want to snatch the phone and swear at him. Self restraint was practiced.

My other friend was worrying me too, though to a lesser extent. Friend ‘C’ spent a little while using my mobile to text HER significant other, because she doesn’t have a phone either. About a month ago, during the school holidays, her parents caught this boy sneaking in through her window in the middle of the night and, well, a major grounding was had. It wasn’t as bad for her as it was for Friend ‘R’ but, you know, it was still pretty bad.

To make matters worse, I know this guy really well. I’ve spent a lot of time with him this year, we go to a lot of the same parties and I can honestly say that, while the guy’s a good friend, I know him well enough to realise that I don’t trust him at all. Especially not with one of my closest friends. He’s cheated on her before and, while I keep an eye on him at parties these days, he does get awfully close to other girls. I don’t think he can help himself. If that’s not enough, he’s leaving the country permanently come December and Friend ‘C’ is setting herself up for a whole lot of hurt. I’ve told her this many times, but it’s just not getting through to her. Urgh.

So this morning I was sitting with these two girls, who I’ve known since they wore piggy tails in grade school, thinking about how ridiculous they both are. I mean, the kids at school come to me with their problems because I have a track record for taking care of friends without judging. I’ve NEVER, in all my years, been in a fight with a friend because I keep a pretty open mind and can talk to people on subjects that we might totally disagree on. Hell, for the last four years, my nickname at school has been ‘mum’ and frankly, I think it’s pretty fitting. But today, when it came to these two, I couldn’t help but judge. There’s just a little voice in my head screaming “what the hell is wrong with them?”

My parents are a LOT more flexible than theirs. I’m allowed a mobile, I’m allowed to go out, I’ve got my own laptop to do whatever I want, whenever I want, I’m allowed to get a job and make decisions for myself on almost every account. If I came home and announced to the family that I had a boyfriend, my parents wouldn’t exactly do a happy dance but I don’t think they’d try to stop me either. They trust me to make my own choices, under the condition that I continue to do well in school. I mean, they can be a bit protective at times but they’re also incredibly supportive.

As a result, I don’t think I’ve ever lied to my parents about my life. If they want to know about my grades, my love life or whatever, I answer honestly, because their trust is important.

I’ve never been grounded because I respect my parents too much to give them cause.

Alternatively, Friends ‘C’ and ‘R’ have incredibly strict parents. I know that it comes from a good place, that they’re just trying to protect their kids, but my friends can’t see it from their parents’ point of view. They see “You can’t have a boyfriend” as a reason to get boyfriends. They see “You must not drink” as a command to get tipsy at parties. They see “You can’t leave the house” as an excuse to sneak over to my place on Saturday mornings.

And the worst part is, so far as I can tell, that they lie to their parents through their teeth.

I know that our mutual friend, ‘K’, got so fed up with ‘C’ and ‘R’s continuously bad decisions that she now refuses to speak to either of them. She’s done with trying to make them see sense, and decided that she doesn’t need their drama. I’ve spoken to other friends who are getting tired of this behaviour as well.

Today, I was tempted to follow ‘K’s example. Sometimes I think that they’re a bad influence on me, and I don’t need their issues to worry about, you know? But then I think that they might need me to stick around and be a positive influence on them. Even though they’ve completely ignored my advice, their poor choices will have consequences. If and when their respective situations come back to bite them in the butt, they’re going to need support. I mean, if either of them gets kicked out again, I live nearby and my parents are more than willing to take them in. I’m one of the few people willing to offer them an ear or a shoulder to lean on. I’m not trying to facilitate their bad behaviour, but they’re going to need me on their side and I don’t think I could just abandon them.

This whole morning I was thinking about how crazy it all is. We’re all fifteen year olds. They shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this.

And even though I’m really worried about these friends, I’m self-centred enough to just be feeling really lucky right now. I’m so glad I have the family that I have, you know? While my friends run around lying to their parents and counting the days till they can move out, I was was sitting at home talking to my mum about all of this.

When I was finished talking, mum just gave me a huge hug and said “I’m so proud of you”.

It’s the little thing in life…

It’s the little things in life that make me want to tear my own hair out.

So, I didn’t go to school today because I’ve been sick all weekend and I woke up this morning feeling like I’d just swallowed an especially ferocious porcupine. It was my first day off from school in yonks – my attendance is generally as spotless as a shamWow. A long weekend – great, right?

Except the issue was that my dad works nights, and he uses the time that my brother and I are out of the house to sleep. He’s nocturnal like that. Being the considerate daughter that I am, I opted not to watch the movies I’d recorded (Sweeney Todd, The Sixth Sense, Across the Universe) while dad was asleep, even though, you know, I really really wanted to.

Instead, I went upstairs, sat quietly in my room and worked on a science prac that isn’t due till Thursday and, when that was finished, I began (then completed) a public speaking assignment that I’ve completely ignored for the two months we’ve had to work on it. It was surprisingly easy.

Eventually, dad had woken up and I was allowed to run downstairs again to eat and watch my movies. Of course, 10 minutes into the first movie, the doorbell announced the arrival of my tutor, almost forty-five minutes early today. I know that for sure because I wrote the date and time down carefully after our last lesson, but, you know, no biggie. It’s not important that she’s never once managed to turn up at the agreed time. I can deal with that. I turned the TV off again and sat down to 90 minutes of maths work which usually makes my brain hurt.

Afterwards, of course, I wanted to sit down and relax with the movie again but by that time my brother was home and the minute I started watching, he grabbed the remote and announced that he wasn’t “in a movie mood”. So I went back upstairs to study for a health test I have tomorrow and waited until he left the TV room before I went back down.

I managed to watch almost thirty minutes of the movie before mum came home from work and sat down to watch with me. After about five minutes of silence, my mum asks “can you change the channel? I don’t want to watch this. I’m exhausted after working all day.”

How does a kid say no to that?

I let mum change the channel to the Ellen Degeneres show or whatever it is she watches and slugged back upstairs for more homework and revision. Joy of joys.

After what felt like an age, my brother knocked on my door and told me to come back downstairs because mum had finished with the TV and he wanted to watch the movie too, now. So we sat down to watch the movie and even managed to get a fair way into but by then, naturally, it was around 10:45 and mum came downstairs to tell us both to go to sleep.

Staying up to blog in my room instead is my silent act of rebellion.

I usually get along great with my family, but this whole day was just a kick in the pants and since I can’t complain to the family about any of it, unsuspecting strangers on the internet will have to do.

On the plus side, even though a full day to myself wasn’t enough time to watch a single movie, I literally got more school work done today than I did over the last fortnight. That’s some unexpected silver lining.

Good night!

Your children will be illiterate.

It’s 12:20 AM and I just got back from another party, but this one was really tame so I did enjoy it. I tend to prefer these alcohol-free parties because these kids are a lot more interesting when sober (albeit they can be hilarious when drunk). I spent the better part of four hours just talking and arguing about books (the title of this post being an insult aimed at one my more grammatically attuned friends) and movies, which is always nice. Still, I somehow managed to slide off into a ‘quiet corner’ with all the other kids who find music a suitable substitute for conversation and, as per usual, was about as engaged and active as a young cactus plant.
It was alright, though, since my throat’s been so sore all day that my voice sounds like a freshly squeezed panda (what?), and my lack of conversation probably came as a blessing.

It’s closing in on 12:30 in the morning and I’m impressed by my own ability to form coherent sentences.

I’m still sick, I’m still thinking, I’m still stunned. I won’t go into again, though.

Once again, I’m feeling too tired to go to sleep, you know?

Hope you’re all well.

Don’t read this.

I just need to get things off my chest.

There was so much I’ve been wanting to type here, it’s been a hell of a week.
On Monday, I wanted to talk about my brother’s VCE (Year 12) Drama performance, and how nervous he was about it all.
On Tuesday, I wanted to brag about how much I’m genuinely enjoying my current Literature SAC.
On Wednesday, I wanted to vent about my friend who got kicked out of home and came to stay at my place because her parents refused to take her back.
On Thursday, I wanted to mull over the incident and whinge about the cold I’d caught overnight.

So today, Friday, I got to school feeling groggy because I felt too sick to hold my own head up and I was all sorts of worried about this friend who got kicked out and I was all sorts of nervous about another friend who’s involved with a boy who is an awful influence and I was feeling all sorts of stressed about the mounting pile of homework and nearing exams but I was thrilled that it was Friday and in a few short hours the bell would ring and I was waiting for the moment I could run back home and it would all just stop but now it’s half-past three in the afternoon, school finished and I’m safe at home but I can’t help but think that all the stuff that seemed so important this morning is pretty fucking trivial now.

A girl in tenth grade passed away last night. She had a brain tumour. She went to my primary school. I was in her class. I remember talking to her on the first day of fifth grade. We were both new kids in school. We lived near each other, we went to school together for six years, we’ve talked together and worked together and at least once I’m sure we played dodgeball together. I hadn’t spoken to her in years. In high school, we just slipped into different circles and I can’t say I knew her very well but she didn’t deserve this.

She was my age and all day I listened to the kids at school talking about her in the past tense and I kept my head down because I just don’t know how to deal with this.

When word got around I wasn’t sure what to say. I felt so sad, but then I saw a group of her friends huddled together and crying at lunch and I thought what right do I have to feel sad? It was like I was intruding on something that wasn’t for me and I know it sounds stupid but it just didn’t feel right. And then I’d look around and see the kids who hadn’t heard the news or the kids who didn’t know her well enough to care going on with their lives and laughing and talking at things that don’t matter and I was angry, I think.

My last period for today was english. For the last few weeks, my english teacher has been trying to keep us on the topic of ‘growing up’. We’ve written essays and had discussions. Today, he walked in with a stack of A2 paper and handed each of us a sheet. He wanted us all to illustrate our own futures. Everyone drew pictures of themselves with good jobs or with nice clothes or with kids or in swanky cars. One boy drew a detailed diagram of the end of the world. I drew a giant question mark, handed it in and sat silently for the last 47 minutes of school. My teacher didn’t seem to mind.

I’ve never had to deal with death. I’ve never lost anyone, not really. All I know is that she was fifteen and there’s nothing fair about this.

Flowers and Outrage.

I’ve been stood up. I think my indignation is justified on account of this woman who, I’d like the record to show, didn’t even have the decency to call and let me know there’d been a change of plan.

Oh, I suppose I ought to mention that I’m a teenage girl of a decidedly linear orientation (read: I’m straight). The woman in question is a tutor who, subsequent to taking $225 of my mother’s hard earned money, assured me that she would arrive at my house promptly at 4PM on the 5^th of October and every Monday after that for the remainder of the school term.

It is now 4:36PM and, unless my tutor is merely hiding in the kitchen in order to instigate a memorable introduction, I think the odds of her appearing are about the same as my odds of achieving spontaneous combustion.

Call me unforgiving, but I intend to hold this woman at least partially responsible for any low figures on my math exams, not to mention any low figures in my mother’s bank account.

On a happier note: I spent last weekend at a holiday home in a suburb whose name I can never remember. We drove up to see the Tulip Festival on Saturday which was, oddly enough, a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be.

The flowers were lovely, the family time was fun, my brother and I exchanged witty banter (“Your FACE is a two-lip festival!”), I got to flex my photographic muscle and, on top of it all, I got to ride in a helicopter!

Afterwards, we headed to a nearby resort; a series of apartments being rented out by this adorable old couple. The apartments were GORGEOUS. Hand-made timber cottages with intricately designed furniture, all done by this man named Ross who showed us his work and his awards with pride, all the while muttering: “Not bad for an old fella, eh?”

Ross is 72 and, apparently, has been working as a craftsman since the 1940’s. I was honestly impressed.

And, as if this post wasn’t already long enough: happy-snaps!

The view from the helicopter rides available at the festival.

According to iPhoto, I took well over 70 photos at the festival but I think I’ll stop here before I get too carried away.

It was a wonderfully relaxing weekend wherein I got to spend hours reading outside while listening to the Bright Eyes on my iPod and watching the sun set behind distant mountains, with no-one but the cockatoos to keep me company. Brilliant.

Midnight Ramblings.

THIS IS SO BIZARRE. I really want to write but I’ve got very little to say and anything I DO write seems to come out all wrong and jumbled up, if know you I mean what. [That's "If you know what I mean", for anyone playing at home.]

So yesterday I went to a party, only not really because it was just a bunch of us hanging out at a friend’s house. And by “bunch”, I mean, like, seven of us playing playstation and stalking.. er.. observing people on facebook. I admit, the playstation part was mostly left up to the guys while the stalking was covered by us gals. I’m not too keen on the tweetmyface networking website phenomenomenon (say it out loud, it sounds like a pokemon!) but surreptitiously following the online activity of distant friends is surprisingly entertaining.

I spent the better part of my morning today reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which is a pity, since I wanted to try and finish the entire series in two weeks, which leaves me two days to read the last two books but I won’t be home to read them this weekend thanks to the ruddy tulips which leaves me with a real time-related dilemma.

Oh dear, I was going to elaborate on my Potter-related goals, but that last sentence was so awfully structured that I’m going to have to change the topic as a sign of respect for the English language.

Still, I’m only about a sixth of the way through this, the longest Harry Potter book, so far. (200 pages and he still hasn’t been to Hogwarts?!). It didn’t help that I went to another party tonight. But I’m glad I did because this was the good kind of alcohol-free party I enjoy. I’M A STRAIGHT EDGE KID AND PROUD, DAMMIT! I got to catch up with a lot of people I haven’t seen over the last two weeks, and I laughed a lot a lot a lot.

There was this lovely moment when this lovely eighteen-year-old friend I don’t see very often completely blind-sighted me with wonderful compliments about my sense of humour and “you’re honestly one of the most beautiful people I know” and I tried to run away from the sheer unexpectedness of it when other friends cottoned on and started (literally) bowing down to me until all I could do was laugh and I don’t know where it came from but those lovely individuals completely made my week.

After the numbers started dwindling a couple of hours into the party, like, six of us decided to break away from the main singingdancinglaughing group and sit in a deserted corridor by ourselves to just talk and listen to music. Laughs were had, banter was exchanged, movies were discussed and the songs on my iPod were looked down upon by the musical elitists amongst us. (Metro Station is a guilty pleasure, I refuse to be judged for it!)

But I just got home feeling too tired to rest (if you know what I mean), and wanting to type anything, everything up because I’ve grown to enjoy the taptaptap of my fingers on the keyboard and even creating incoherent combinations of letters like afdjfhdjnasijd is music to my tired ears.

I honest to goodness haven’t done a scrap of homework/anything remotely productive over the last fortnight. I won’t be home for this final holiday weekend. I’m kind of almost dreading school on Monday, because I’ve done so poorly in maths that mum’s started me on tuition for Mondays and I’ve done no revision and I don’t know what kind of impression I’m going to make on my tutor. Maybe I’ll bake cookies for her. A way to a woman’s heart IS through her stomach (she says, the aspiring medical practitioner to the shock of surgeons everywhere).

I’m going to try and read myself to sleep since I have an early morning tomorrow (no, it’s 12.30AM so I have an early morning TODAY), because the family’s driving up to some suburb whose name I can’t pronounce to see the tulip festival. We’re going to spend the weekend in this indecipherable suburb, apparently, even though I can’t imagine it being very comfortable or entertaining in a small holiday apartment with my whole family squished into place but maybe I should stop being so pessimistic and be excited for the flowers.

Next time I post, my ideas will make sense and my sentences will be structured and I’ll put more thought into it than this. Promise.

I’m excited for the flowers.

Stay safe.

Verbal Diarrhoea

So last weekend there was a massive party for the tenth graders in my school and everyone told me to go but I said no because fifteen dollars seemed a steep price to pay for a night of poor music and underage drinking.

Based on the texts I got on monday morning I’m pretty sure that I had a better night at home than a lot of the kids did at the party which isn’t surprising when you mix large quantities of alcohol with sixteen year olds.

Meanwhile I’ve never felt less like writing and my sentences are running far too long and I don’t think I’m being grammatically correct and maybe that negates everything I’ve just written but that’s okay too I think.

So my mum wants to take the family to a tulip festival while the holidays are still around and I don’t know if the tulips can survive this weather because I’m sure struggling and need to wear layers layers layers outside even though it’s spring.

I don’t know if anyone’s noticed but the term ‘verbal diarrhoea’ is in itself quite repulsive and I wish I could think of better titles but then I wish I could think of better lots of things more important than this.

I’m going to read Harry Potter today and by the time I’m finished maybe things will start making sense.

Story 4: Morgan’s crime.

Morgan could not sleep, for the knowledge burned into her, torturing her; guilt alone causing inconceivable agony to her heart. She had committed an atrocity. The beautiful young lady Morgan rose from her bed and staggered to the open window, hoping the young night sky could offer a temporary release from her self-wrought despair.

As she stood, this auburn haired Juliet, framed by her window against the star-lit sky, the wise crescent Moon looked down upon her and was himself overcome with pity. Father Moon could not allow such a comely creature to suffer so greatly, and wished to liberate the young lady from her plight.

From his lofty perch, father Moon called to his friend mother Nature, and asked her to present the lady Morgan with the finest flowers in the land. Mother Nature obeyed and, within minutes, the lady Morgan’s garden was filled with flowers of such great beauty and overpowering scent that all animals rushed to this paradisiacal place.

Father moon called to Morgan, “Daughter, do these fragrant gifts dry your glowing eyes?” to which she sadly replied “Nay, Father, for these flowers will soon wilt and fade”, and despondently turned away.

The next night, father Moon again observed the lady Morgan standing dejectedly by her window. He sent to her the most talented nightingales he could find, and asked that they sing for her the most moving song they knew. They obeyed and, within minutes, all affected people abandoned their tasks and listened with awe to the sweet sounds of the nightingales.

And father Moon called to Morgan, “Daughter, does this harmonious melody ease your clouded mind?” to which she forlornly replied “Nay, Father, for the song will soon end and be forgotten”, and she sighed.

On the third night, father Moon saw the lady again standing by her window. He called forth the creatures of the underground world, and asked that they deliver to lady Morgan naught but the world’s most valuable stones and minerals. They obeyed and, within minutes, the lady’s house was surrounded by jewels so grand that all neighboring men were transfixed by their brilliance.

And father Moon called to Morgan, “Daughter, do these riches lighten your heavy heart?” to which she cried “Nay, Father, for riches attract naught but thieves and plunderers”, and sank to the ground.

Incensed by his thrice-failed attempts, the ancient Father cried “Daughter, you have abandoned the world’s sweetest gifts. You have disregarded mother Nature’s finest creations, ignored the nightingales’ most poignant melodies and callously cast away the most opulent riches the world has to offer. What more could you possibly seek?”

And the lady merely whispered, “Father, I seek forgiveness”.
The wise Moon finally understood, and he wept.

—

Guys, I don’t know. I spent all day yesterday reading Oscar Wilde’s brilliant, gorgeous short stories and when I sat down to write, this came spewing out.
Blerg.

We’re All Goofy Goobers.

I’m pretty sure that the noise I’m currently hearing is a combination of a motorcycle (running up and down the street), my neighbour’s lawn mower (even though it’s almost dark outside, the madman) and a garden variety house fly (oh, the irony).

They all sound incredibly similar, and their respective noises have blended together to sound like, well, a blender. A really loud blender, with my head inside it.

I’ve barely stepped outside the house since last Friday. Today’s Tuesday, and all I have to show for the last four days of my life is about an hour’s worth of exercise, three additional novels on my pile of ‘read’ books and an impossibly organised iTunes playlist. Hurray for productivity.

On top of that, I think I’ve only spoken to about three people outside of my own gene pool, and those were just hurried conversations on the phone with friends.

Moving away from the home which was conveniently located in the midst of friends and all the local hangouts, JUST before the school holidays? Bad move, self. Bad move.

I’m off to re-read the Harry Potter series, laze around the house moping and snapping at my brother and being a general nuisance. I usually consider myself an introvert, but I think I might be pushing it. I need to get off the computer and get out of here before I go mental.

GOODNIGHT.