I ache. Like. Sabre ache.
As an aside, I think I finally understand what you meant about the feeling guilty comment.
I saw Seven Pounds yesterday. It is epic. I love it. I was so beyond impressed. Anyone who has the opportunity to see it, please do. I think that has officially topped my buy list.
As another aside, listening to you snore is the funniest/cutest shit ever.
I laugh.
X
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Rage.
One thing that makes me rage, is being told what to do. Like I'm 10, and I can't take care of myself. If I'm not mistaken, I do just that on a regular basis. So why is it, when I'm being quiet, I have nothing to do the next day, that you get UP to tell me to GETTOBEDNOW.
Apart from the fact you're constantly telling me I need to take responsibility for me and my life, I really want to pull the "I'm almost 18. And I'm moving out in 3 weeks." card. I mean, come on, you make me hang up on the highlight of my night, beckon me from your quarters like I'm some defiant child.
First mistake, you tell me you hope I'm not going to be up this late when I go to Uni. This truly shows how little you actually know about me. I am on SUMMER BREAK. What more do you expect?? And when I have 8am starts, You obviously REALLY don't know me at all.
Second mistake, you ask if I ever leave that room, to come out for fresh air. Even if I told you I did, and I was outside regularly, I just choose to occupy the house when you're not home, it wouldn't be worth anything. Because I obviously lie to you, all the time.
Third mistake, you ask why I can't come out and talk to you. Ahh, so this is what it is. This is the real problem. You're jealous. Because I spend more time in here, and generally look a lot happier about it, than I do with you. Well guess what? They don't give me condescending looks, or patronising comments. So yeah, I do enjoy my time with my friends a lot more than I do with you. I realise I'm leaving in 3 weeks, but that works both ways, you know. I took particular intrigue in the way that you're taking a week off before I leave, so you can "Spend some time with me." I've been off for 3 months almost. And it's not like you haven't had a day off yet. Just because you choose to spend it with others, because hell, it's your FREE TIME, guess what? I do too. Because this is MY free time. And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me choose how I spend it.
The last time you did it, was New Years Eve, at 5:30am. And me and him had planned to watch the last sunrise of 2008. Well, that plan went to shit, didn't it? You know what I felt like saying to you, last night, when you told me that I was going to give going to bed late a rest for a little while?
"Fine. Come here, take all of my technology away. You can't MAKE me go to sleep. I can sit in bed, wide awake, and still defy you. I can also go to my other parent's, who frankly doesn't care what time I'm up to on a night, seeing as I'm doing, you know, nothing tomorrow. And not be hassled about it. You can't stop me."
It's not like I'm taking drugs, it's not like I'm going around as if I'm looking to situate myself with child, it's not like I'm an alcoholic. In fact, I turn 18 in practically a month, I've never touched drugs in my life, I'm not even having sex with ONE person, let alone multiple, and I hold my liquor better than you do. I stay up late, why? Because I'm a night owl. I feel awake on a night, it's when I can think straight. It's when you're not around. It's when I can relax and do things. In short. You don't want me up til 3:30 on a morning? Fine, I'll read a book until that time. Why? Because you make me want to be defiant. What can you do? Sweet fuck all.
To quote him:
"I now understand why you have a countdown."
Incidentally, it's 3 weeks tomorrow.
X
Apart from the fact you're constantly telling me I need to take responsibility for me and my life, I really want to pull the "I'm almost 18. And I'm moving out in 3 weeks." card. I mean, come on, you make me hang up on the highlight of my night, beckon me from your quarters like I'm some defiant child.
First mistake, you tell me you hope I'm not going to be up this late when I go to Uni. This truly shows how little you actually know about me. I am on SUMMER BREAK. What more do you expect?? And when I have 8am starts, You obviously REALLY don't know me at all.
Second mistake, you ask if I ever leave that room, to come out for fresh air. Even if I told you I did, and I was outside regularly, I just choose to occupy the house when you're not home, it wouldn't be worth anything. Because I obviously lie to you, all the time.
Third mistake, you ask why I can't come out and talk to you. Ahh, so this is what it is. This is the real problem. You're jealous. Because I spend more time in here, and generally look a lot happier about it, than I do with you. Well guess what? They don't give me condescending looks, or patronising comments. So yeah, I do enjoy my time with my friends a lot more than I do with you. I realise I'm leaving in 3 weeks, but that works both ways, you know. I took particular intrigue in the way that you're taking a week off before I leave, so you can "Spend some time with me." I've been off for 3 months almost. And it's not like you haven't had a day off yet. Just because you choose to spend it with others, because hell, it's your FREE TIME, guess what? I do too. Because this is MY free time. And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me choose how I spend it.
The last time you did it, was New Years Eve, at 5:30am. And me and him had planned to watch the last sunrise of 2008. Well, that plan went to shit, didn't it? You know what I felt like saying to you, last night, when you told me that I was going to give going to bed late a rest for a little while?
"Fine. Come here, take all of my technology away. You can't MAKE me go to sleep. I can sit in bed, wide awake, and still defy you. I can also go to my other parent's, who frankly doesn't care what time I'm up to on a night, seeing as I'm doing, you know, nothing tomorrow. And not be hassled about it. You can't stop me."
It's not like I'm taking drugs, it's not like I'm going around as if I'm looking to situate myself with child, it's not like I'm an alcoholic. In fact, I turn 18 in practically a month, I've never touched drugs in my life, I'm not even having sex with ONE person, let alone multiple, and I hold my liquor better than you do. I stay up late, why? Because I'm a night owl. I feel awake on a night, it's when I can think straight. It's when you're not around. It's when I can relax and do things. In short. You don't want me up til 3:30 on a morning? Fine, I'll read a book until that time. Why? Because you make me want to be defiant. What can you do? Sweet fuck all.
To quote him:
"I now understand why you have a countdown."
Incidentally, it's 3 weeks tomorrow.
X
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Whoo whoo
So, I don't have much to say. I'm happy, I'm relatively well. I'm having a lazy day today, which I'll probably be chastised for, but I don't care. Mother has no idea what wars are waging right now in my head.
I'm gonna leave on a happy note;
I'm glad it happened, you know who you are. :)
X
I'm gonna leave on a happy note;
I'm glad it happened, you know who you are. :)
X
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
On 3 hours of sleep.
Well. Last night went, well, to say the least. I mean, truthfully, in my head it was an 80/20 jump. But still, 80/20 isn't 100/0. You would've thought after 9 hours, I would have more to say, but I don't really. I think those 9 hours confirmed everything though, everything I felt, everything I thought you felt. The bond we share, I suppose. Dynamic, I believe the word I used was.
This does complicate things a bit, it's amazing how just ADMITTING things, out loud, to the person concerned opens up a plethora of cans of worms.
For the first time in a long while, I don't know what to do.
And it feels fucking fantastic.
X
This does complicate things a bit, it's amazing how just ADMITTING things, out loud, to the person concerned opens up a plethora of cans of worms.
For the first time in a long while, I don't know what to do.
And it feels fucking fantastic.
X
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Explosion.
You have not experienced stress until you have spent a day in my shoes. I sound terribly sure of myself, but really, I'm very much so serious.
First things first, Student Loan. The idea was that even though I've got money stashed away for University, it's going to stay there and earn interest, whilst the government pays for my tuition for 3 years and then I pay them off in one go at the end. Makes sense, right?
We've received so much correspondence from the Government, who will henceforth be referred to as G, regarding proof of identity, citizenship etc. Which, I've happily sent them. They sent me another letter wanting pretty much the exact same thing. So. My idea was, was that this time we take the drive up to the nearest G building, and sit down with someone and sort it out there. No more letters, everything is done in max an hour, and I can go home knowing that I'm not going to receive another letter next week saying I've forgotten something. This was all sweet. Until I hear Mother on the phone with G talking about setting up an online account. She then, after I talk to a very nice lady and hang up, decides that we've got all we need and we're going to send them another letter. (Bearing in mind that the first time we got forms from them, I suggested going into said G office for the same purpose. And Mothership was down for it until the last minute when she makes the call to just send the stuff off.) Deja vu, anyone?
Now, lets rewind a little;
On our way home yesterday, she told me that in no uncertain terms, if this Loan didn't go through cos I somehow fucked it up, she would not be footing the bill. And I'd have to go to Father and plead for him to delve into the aforementioned Uni Slush Fund. Which, he doesn't want to touch, at all. And if he refused, it'd be coming out of my pocket. All $5,007.90 of it. Her reasoning was that she was pretty much broke. She wasn't a year ago, but somehow in 13 months she has managed to spend every penny she had to her name. And in a sort of twisted way guilt trip me because I HAVE money. Oh yes boys and girls, I have life savings, ones I've had since I was born. And I don't touch it. I have full access to it, but I don't touch it. I refuse to go down the slippery slope of dabbling. Plain and simple, if I don't have cash on hand to buy whatever (And the majority of my stuff, Food, Shoes, Clothes ((Not uber things like Laptops etc, they are all gifts I am very grateful for)) is paid out of my own pocket) I won't buy it. Simple.
Now, I'd also like to point out that the BILL has arrived. With no loan to cover it, as yet. And in 3 weeks this all has to straighten itself out. And if it's not paid somehow, I don't go. I've waited 3 fucking years to get this far, I am not about to let this happen. So, amongst worrying over my Mother's well being, My Loan, University not kicking me out, the shit I wrote about yesterday, and some other stuff I don't want to disclose, my mind is pretty much running at full tilt. I am suffering. At 17, I shouldn't have had as many cases of Stress boils, hives, and general physical illness as I have had. My DOCTOR told me I had far too much on my plate, the FIRST time I got boils, and I've had about another 2 or 3 cases since in the past 6 months. This is coming from a man, who deals with sick people on a day by day basis, who is under constant stress from patients and hospitals, and has only had a boil ONCE, and he practically lost it.
So apart from the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, and drowning with no one to make sure I don't fall to my doom but myself, I am not sleeping either. Sleep is just an opportunity for my mind to run full tilt with no distractions. I have no escape from myself.
Adding on from the sinking to my death with no assistance, this morning on our way to the bank, with everything else I was worrying about, I've started forgetting shit. Not life or death, but simple shit like my Debit Card. Which meant I couldn't swap my account to Tertiary, no biggy, right? We'll just drive all of 5 minutes home and pick it up. But the look I get as I remember I haven't got it, is purely condescending; a mix of disappointment and lack of surprise. This bit is priceless, however, as I get in the car she says "Are you ready for University?" In that "There is no way you are ready to wipe your own arse let alone live on your own and fend for yourself." tone. Even though I'd told her before we left how stressed I was, she still manages to make it about her "I don't need you being stressed, I'm stressed enough without you being stressed." Well excuse me. Whose life is it we're fucking about at the moment? I bet you if it was to do with her, we'd have gone to that Goddamn G office.
I am Jack's quiet desire to die.
X
First things first, Student Loan. The idea was that even though I've got money stashed away for University, it's going to stay there and earn interest, whilst the government pays for my tuition for 3 years and then I pay them off in one go at the end. Makes sense, right?
We've received so much correspondence from the Government, who will henceforth be referred to as G, regarding proof of identity, citizenship etc. Which, I've happily sent them. They sent me another letter wanting pretty much the exact same thing. So. My idea was, was that this time we take the drive up to the nearest G building, and sit down with someone and sort it out there. No more letters, everything is done in max an hour, and I can go home knowing that I'm not going to receive another letter next week saying I've forgotten something. This was all sweet. Until I hear Mother on the phone with G talking about setting up an online account. She then, after I talk to a very nice lady and hang up, decides that we've got all we need and we're going to send them another letter. (Bearing in mind that the first time we got forms from them, I suggested going into said G office for the same purpose. And Mothership was down for it until the last minute when she makes the call to just send the stuff off.) Deja vu, anyone?
Now, lets rewind a little;
On our way home yesterday, she told me that in no uncertain terms, if this Loan didn't go through cos I somehow fucked it up, she would not be footing the bill. And I'd have to go to Father and plead for him to delve into the aforementioned Uni Slush Fund. Which, he doesn't want to touch, at all. And if he refused, it'd be coming out of my pocket. All $5,007.90 of it. Her reasoning was that she was pretty much broke. She wasn't a year ago, but somehow in 13 months she has managed to spend every penny she had to her name. And in a sort of twisted way guilt trip me because I HAVE money. Oh yes boys and girls, I have life savings, ones I've had since I was born. And I don't touch it. I have full access to it, but I don't touch it. I refuse to go down the slippery slope of dabbling. Plain and simple, if I don't have cash on hand to buy whatever (And the majority of my stuff, Food, Shoes, Clothes ((Not uber things like Laptops etc, they are all gifts I am very grateful for)) is paid out of my own pocket) I won't buy it. Simple.
Now, I'd also like to point out that the BILL has arrived. With no loan to cover it, as yet. And in 3 weeks this all has to straighten itself out. And if it's not paid somehow, I don't go. I've waited 3 fucking years to get this far, I am not about to let this happen. So, amongst worrying over my Mother's well being, My Loan, University not kicking me out, the shit I wrote about yesterday, and some other stuff I don't want to disclose, my mind is pretty much running at full tilt. I am suffering. At 17, I shouldn't have had as many cases of Stress boils, hives, and general physical illness as I have had. My DOCTOR told me I had far too much on my plate, the FIRST time I got boils, and I've had about another 2 or 3 cases since in the past 6 months. This is coming from a man, who deals with sick people on a day by day basis, who is under constant stress from patients and hospitals, and has only had a boil ONCE, and he practically lost it.
So apart from the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, and drowning with no one to make sure I don't fall to my doom but myself, I am not sleeping either. Sleep is just an opportunity for my mind to run full tilt with no distractions. I have no escape from myself.
Adding on from the sinking to my death with no assistance, this morning on our way to the bank, with everything else I was worrying about, I've started forgetting shit. Not life or death, but simple shit like my Debit Card. Which meant I couldn't swap my account to Tertiary, no biggy, right? We'll just drive all of 5 minutes home and pick it up. But the look I get as I remember I haven't got it, is purely condescending; a mix of disappointment and lack of surprise. This bit is priceless, however, as I get in the car she says "Are you ready for University?" In that "There is no way you are ready to wipe your own arse let alone live on your own and fend for yourself." tone. Even though I'd told her before we left how stressed I was, she still manages to make it about her "I don't need you being stressed, I'm stressed enough without you being stressed." Well excuse me. Whose life is it we're fucking about at the moment? I bet you if it was to do with her, we'd have gone to that Goddamn G office.
I am Jack's quiet desire to die.
X
About Me.
This is a bit of a long time coming, brace yourself, for some serious serious honesty.
I see myself more like the shapeshifter pokemon, Ditto, than a mirage of an actual person. Instead of being one constant, I am an every changing, ever fluctuating, inter changable ball of feelings, emotions, actions, consequences, preference, and intensity.
Naturally, I think I harbour quite an intense personality, I'm loud, I'm bubbly, I'm in-your-face. I'm opinionated, I'm stubborn, I'm scary as hell. And right now, I feel like a complete and utter fuckwit. You know that old saying about holding a dove too tight? Well, for me that happens when I ASSUME. Christ, I hate people that assume about others, that are arrogant enough to think they know what someone else is truely feeling without, well, knowing shit about them.
The problem with me, is I read body language, and I get on my ego trip, thinking I'm the shit, because I know how everyone feels. I know what this face means, I know what those three dots mean. I know. Or at least, I think I know. Which is enough for me. Until moments like now, when I'm taken back a peg or two. Thank you, by the way, if you feel like shit, please don't.
Very few people call me on my shit, or rather, make me call myself on my own shit. But you did. Here was me, mucking about, teasing, and you actually felt genuinely bad. Oh Jesus. How could I be so wrong? I stop listening, to signs all around me, I just figured that you were comfortable, and I could continue being a cuntrag. Christ, and the worst part is I KNEW, I knew all about that little secret, and I have all along. But I have a tendancy to sometimes get selfish and claim I know whats best for people. I don't know what it was about you, something just made me giddy. I can't describe that... animal like instinct. It was like, a lion and a kill. I didn't really GIVE a shit about anything other than myself. Ugh. I am so fucking stupid. When I said I was happy for you, though, I DID mean it. With all my heart. I wish you all the luck in the world, and I really really am rootin' for you.
Sometimes I just take things too far.
You love me so much it... scares the fuck out of me. I feel like I'm USING you. To get some sort of selfish reward out of it. But I dunno, my conscience is starting to kick in, what I'm doing is wrong. I think we're going to have to have a serious chat. Not tomorrow, I know you're reading this, but give me a few days to sort my shit out. I so couldn't handle a deep and meaningful when I have so much other stuff to stress about.
And you... after the two preceding events, I don't think there's anyone I want to be with more. I mean, the situation isn't quite opportune, but I think it's something that's always been there. Sitting under the surface. For both of us. I mean, I know the boys gave you shit for months about confessions you made whilst in a mildly drunken stupor. But I think it started to hit me when you were talking about me to the others, when I could hear. And that element of pride. Christ, I don't know where to start. I really don't. There's nothing to say, nothing I can put into words. I could write a list of all of the things that're in my mind right now. I think you're the happy mix, in the first I'm like some sort of crack addicted mongrel wild thing, in the second I'm a leech. You, I'm neither. We laugh, we joke, we talk for hours. God I've missed that. It only starts to sink in how much I've truely missed that when we start pulling all nighters. And I go "Wow. Nothing's changed". I suppose we're going to have to have a serious talk, too.
....I think I wanna marry you.
X
I see myself more like the shapeshifter pokemon, Ditto, than a mirage of an actual person. Instead of being one constant, I am an every changing, ever fluctuating, inter changable ball of feelings, emotions, actions, consequences, preference, and intensity.
Naturally, I think I harbour quite an intense personality, I'm loud, I'm bubbly, I'm in-your-face. I'm opinionated, I'm stubborn, I'm scary as hell. And right now, I feel like a complete and utter fuckwit. You know that old saying about holding a dove too tight? Well, for me that happens when I ASSUME. Christ, I hate people that assume about others, that are arrogant enough to think they know what someone else is truely feeling without, well, knowing shit about them.
The problem with me, is I read body language, and I get on my ego trip, thinking I'm the shit, because I know how everyone feels. I know what this face means, I know what those three dots mean. I know. Or at least, I think I know. Which is enough for me. Until moments like now, when I'm taken back a peg or two. Thank you, by the way, if you feel like shit, please don't.
Very few people call me on my shit, or rather, make me call myself on my own shit. But you did. Here was me, mucking about, teasing, and you actually felt genuinely bad. Oh Jesus. How could I be so wrong? I stop listening, to signs all around me, I just figured that you were comfortable, and I could continue being a cuntrag. Christ, and the worst part is I KNEW, I knew all about that little secret, and I have all along. But I have a tendancy to sometimes get selfish and claim I know whats best for people. I don't know what it was about you, something just made me giddy. I can't describe that... animal like instinct. It was like, a lion and a kill. I didn't really GIVE a shit about anything other than myself. Ugh. I am so fucking stupid. When I said I was happy for you, though, I DID mean it. With all my heart. I wish you all the luck in the world, and I really really am rootin' for you.
Sometimes I just take things too far.
You love me so much it... scares the fuck out of me. I feel like I'm USING you. To get some sort of selfish reward out of it. But I dunno, my conscience is starting to kick in, what I'm doing is wrong. I think we're going to have to have a serious chat. Not tomorrow, I know you're reading this, but give me a few days to sort my shit out. I so couldn't handle a deep and meaningful when I have so much other stuff to stress about.
And you... after the two preceding events, I don't think there's anyone I want to be with more. I mean, the situation isn't quite opportune, but I think it's something that's always been there. Sitting under the surface. For both of us. I mean, I know the boys gave you shit for months about confessions you made whilst in a mildly drunken stupor. But I think it started to hit me when you were talking about me to the others, when I could hear. And that element of pride. Christ, I don't know where to start. I really don't. There's nothing to say, nothing I can put into words. I could write a list of all of the things that're in my mind right now. I think you're the happy mix, in the first I'm like some sort of crack addicted mongrel wild thing, in the second I'm a leech. You, I'm neither. We laugh, we joke, we talk for hours. God I've missed that. It only starts to sink in how much I've truely missed that when we start pulling all nighters. And I go "Wow. Nothing's changed". I suppose we're going to have to have a serious talk, too.
....I think I wanna marry you.
X
Monday, January 26, 2009
Ugh. T.W. Ice.
I know, I know, second time. I feel really bad.
I started thinking about writing yesterday, and then I talked to you the rest of the night. God I've missed you. I've missed that...nonchalant tone. Lately you've sounded, depressed, for reasons I'm well aware of, but it's hard when quite possibly the person I consider to be my rock is down.
So I went to tutor today, it wasn't all bad, you got it after a little while. It was good to see you, too, I'd missed the way you made me laugh, even if we WERE in the children's section.
I wish you had come and seen me. I knew you were around, and I knew you were busy... but still... could've used a hug, for no other reason than I just wanted one. Maybe because I was really cold today. Oh well. Maybe next time, where we actually plan it and have coffee or something else equally as socially acceptable.
I don't know what to write about, I'm pretty stressed right now, everything should settle down after tomorrow. I hope so, I don't know how many more migraines I can take.
On a lighter note, this book is fantastic.
I think you'd really enjoy it.
X
I started thinking about writing yesterday, and then I talked to you the rest of the night. God I've missed you. I've missed that...nonchalant tone. Lately you've sounded, depressed, for reasons I'm well aware of, but it's hard when quite possibly the person I consider to be my rock is down.
So I went to tutor today, it wasn't all bad, you got it after a little while. It was good to see you, too, I'd missed the way you made me laugh, even if we WERE in the children's section.
I wish you had come and seen me. I knew you were around, and I knew you were busy... but still... could've used a hug, for no other reason than I just wanted one. Maybe because I was really cold today. Oh well. Maybe next time, where we actually plan it and have coffee or something else equally as socially acceptable.
I don't know what to write about, I'm pretty stressed right now, everything should settle down after tomorrow. I hope so, I don't know how many more migraines I can take.
On a lighter note, this book is fantastic.
I think you'd really enjoy it.
X
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Sorry, Mistress.
I know, I know, I missed an update. In my defense, I got home at 11 and was greeted by a mildly buzzed you, and we sat and talked on Skype for a few hours. However, I will tell you about my day yesterday.
So, Dad turns up at about 11:30 ish, I wasn't ready as I'd hoped to be, because I was talking to you. Well, that sounds awful, I did enjoy the catch up, it's not often we talk. We turned up at Uncle's at 12 ish, talked for a bit, played with your new Fischer Price toy. Although, I will admit, it is very nice, bigger than I expected. An hour or so later we leave, get down there for 1/2 2. No cellphone reception. Typical. Oh well, found out this money that I didn't have any credit anyway.
So we sit down, have the catch up, they haven't seen me in at least 2 years, so I got the Spanish Inquisition. First one out of the gate was (In front of my over protective father and my Uncle) "So, where's the boyfriend?" I cringed on the inside. Not only do I not have one, but as a rule, the circumstances under which I have them is, well, less socially acceptable.
My father gave me a firm stare, as in, YOUMUSTSTAYVIRGINFOREVER. And I told them the saga of me being single, and how boring I knew it was. Sigh. I might just hire someone out next year, it'll make that conversation a lot less... pitying and pathetic.
So eventually more people turned up, no one I knew... except their daughter who I haven't really spoken to since I was a kid. And they all asked me what I did. Gosh, that question always saddens me a little, I hate looking old. Well, not old old, but older. I told them I started University in 4 weeks today, and the next 20 minutes was spent explaining the degree and my career intentions.
As the night went on, i consumed a full bottle of wine, felt nothing, and the conversation quality slowly depleted. As it does when normal people drink. I'm a freak of nature with my booze, I've accepted it. Lets move on.
So we left at 10, and the conversation home was... interesting. My Uncle was pretty gone. We got stopped by the cops. But nothing happened.
But now I'm leaving to go see you, because, I haven't seen you since the LAN and it's depressing. I missed you kids while you were in Nippon.
Until next time <3
X
So, Dad turns up at about 11:30 ish, I wasn't ready as I'd hoped to be, because I was talking to you. Well, that sounds awful, I did enjoy the catch up, it's not often we talk. We turned up at Uncle's at 12 ish, talked for a bit, played with your new Fischer Price toy. Although, I will admit, it is very nice, bigger than I expected. An hour or so later we leave, get down there for 1/2 2. No cellphone reception. Typical. Oh well, found out this money that I didn't have any credit anyway.
So we sit down, have the catch up, they haven't seen me in at least 2 years, so I got the Spanish Inquisition. First one out of the gate was (In front of my over protective father and my Uncle) "So, where's the boyfriend?" I cringed on the inside. Not only do I not have one, but as a rule, the circumstances under which I have them is, well, less socially acceptable.
My father gave me a firm stare, as in, YOUMUSTSTAYVIRGINFOREVER. And I told them the saga of me being single, and how boring I knew it was. Sigh. I might just hire someone out next year, it'll make that conversation a lot less... pitying and pathetic.
So eventually more people turned up, no one I knew... except their daughter who I haven't really spoken to since I was a kid. And they all asked me what I did. Gosh, that question always saddens me a little, I hate looking old. Well, not old old, but older. I told them I started University in 4 weeks today, and the next 20 minutes was spent explaining the degree and my career intentions.
As the night went on, i consumed a full bottle of wine, felt nothing, and the conversation quality slowly depleted. As it does when normal people drink. I'm a freak of nature with my booze, I've accepted it. Lets move on.
So we left at 10, and the conversation home was... interesting. My Uncle was pretty gone. We got stopped by the cops. But nothing happened.
But now I'm leaving to go see you, because, I haven't seen you since the LAN and it's depressing. I missed you kids while you were in Nippon.
Until next time <3
X
Thursday, January 22, 2009
It's all about choices.
Consider this:
92% of the world's population feel that their lives could be better --- what about you?
If you could do anything, anything at all, what would you do? What are you doing now? Imagine that you could live your life knowing that it could not be better and never feeling that you would rather be doing something else, be somewhere else, or be someone else. Now consider this: some people actually live that way --- and so could you.
92% of the world's population feel that their lives could be better --- what about you?
If you could do anything, anything at all, what would you do? What are you doing now? Imagine that you could live your life knowing that it could not be better and never feeling that you would rather be doing something else, be somewhere else, or be someone else. Now consider this: some people actually live that way --- and so could you.
Contemplate this:
What if 90% of the problems you encountered in your life were mere illusions and only existed in your mind?
In your everyday life whenever something annoys you, stresses you, makes you mad, or makes you sad, consider if that something really matters. Will you even remember how you felt in one day, one week, one month, one year, or what about in ten years?
So when the people you work for pressure you, and fail to understand you, does it really matter? And when they call you on the phone, screaming and yelling, does it matter and should you really allow that to influence your life?
X
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Of Dreams, Hope, and Purgatory.
Last night was... interesting, to say the least. I am over it, as I knew I would be. The ball is completely in your court. Is that it? Oh yes! Because I have not a lot to say on the matter. I don't cry over spilt milk.
I have the weirdest damn dreams, they are so elaborate, and so intricately thought out, that they shouldn't even classify as dreams. Last night's escapade included huge plot twists, and people being put under house arrest for life. I saw their pain, I saw the effects of my own actions. It was like I was looking at myself in another life. I saw a mother, go, on her hands and knees, to her family and beg for forgiveness. Her 5 boys, chubby and introverted, looking at her with empty eyes. I can remember all of their faces. Her husband, teary eyed, hugged her so tightly, I felt a small pang of jealousy. I want to be held like that. Anguish always brings out the human in people, regardless of how much hate there is between two people, for that moment, hope overrides everything and brings together in an embrace like no other. Isn't it a paradox how in a moment where your world is collapsing around you, it is possible to feel true joy? That concept has always fascinated me. And truth be told, I'd give anything to feel like that.
I am in a pretty contented mood right now. Comfortably Numb, as Pink Floyd put it. Neither alive nor dead. Purgatory. But I'm beginning to see some sort of result on the horizon. Years in the making, X will be a whole new person. It's rather exciting, moving into a new stage of ones life. This one I've been waiting for the better part of 3 years to have, it's rather Euphoric to say the least.
For the first time in a while, I truely have hope.
X
I have the weirdest damn dreams, they are so elaborate, and so intricately thought out, that they shouldn't even classify as dreams. Last night's escapade included huge plot twists, and people being put under house arrest for life. I saw their pain, I saw the effects of my own actions. It was like I was looking at myself in another life. I saw a mother, go, on her hands and knees, to her family and beg for forgiveness. Her 5 boys, chubby and introverted, looking at her with empty eyes. I can remember all of their faces. Her husband, teary eyed, hugged her so tightly, I felt a small pang of jealousy. I want to be held like that. Anguish always brings out the human in people, regardless of how much hate there is between two people, for that moment, hope overrides everything and brings together in an embrace like no other. Isn't it a paradox how in a moment where your world is collapsing around you, it is possible to feel true joy? That concept has always fascinated me. And truth be told, I'd give anything to feel like that.
I am in a pretty contented mood right now. Comfortably Numb, as Pink Floyd put it. Neither alive nor dead. Purgatory. But I'm beginning to see some sort of result on the horizon. Years in the making, X will be a whole new person. It's rather exciting, moving into a new stage of ones life. This one I've been waiting for the better part of 3 years to have, it's rather Euphoric to say the least.
For the first time in a while, I truely have hope.
X
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Reunion.
You worry me. More than anyone else. Maybe it's because I trust everyone to take relatively good care of themselves. You just have a tendancy to do shit and worry about the consequences later. I mean, 4 high speed crashes with no seatbelt? And your still alive? Relatively unscathed? Come on, dude, you gotta know how that feels to hear. I'm not going to harp on, you know how much I care about you, but when I saw you today, it was more joy to see you still in one piece. Every day I see you is a true gift, I just wish you'd see it the same way.
It was interesting seeing you today, I didn't know how well I'd hold it together after our previous conversation. However, I don't even know how well this plan of yours will play out, seeing as how me and the person in question sorta aren't talking at the moment. Which, if you ever read this, saddens me greatly. You were a good friend, even if you did have a tendancy to fuck me about. You listened when I needed, gave advice when I asked, and made me smile when I hadn't all day. I don't think we stopped on a bad note, but it wasn't particularly positive either. If I muster courage, I might call you tonight. But breakfast was remarkably decent, we caught up, I'm so glad you're doing so much more with yourself. Congratulations :)
I've just made yet again another confession today. Don't know how well this ones going to play out, as a general rule, they all end badly. Yet I continue to do it. It nags at me, and burns a hole in the back of my mind if I don't, I've had too many experiences where the person found out through someone else, and then you never know what they truely know. So in a way, by me telling them, they only know as much as I want them to know. And I can rest easy knowing we're on the same page. I know I worry too much, everyone who has ever gotten close enough to my weary little soul mentions it at some point. But I don't think I'd be X without it.
Or at least, that's what I tell myself.
Forgive me, Father.
X
It was interesting seeing you today, I didn't know how well I'd hold it together after our previous conversation. However, I don't even know how well this plan of yours will play out, seeing as how me and the person in question sorta aren't talking at the moment. Which, if you ever read this, saddens me greatly. You were a good friend, even if you did have a tendancy to fuck me about. You listened when I needed, gave advice when I asked, and made me smile when I hadn't all day. I don't think we stopped on a bad note, but it wasn't particularly positive either. If I muster courage, I might call you tonight. But breakfast was remarkably decent, we caught up, I'm so glad you're doing so much more with yourself. Congratulations :)
I've just made yet again another confession today. Don't know how well this ones going to play out, as a general rule, they all end badly. Yet I continue to do it. It nags at me, and burns a hole in the back of my mind if I don't, I've had too many experiences where the person found out through someone else, and then you never know what they truely know. So in a way, by me telling them, they only know as much as I want them to know. And I can rest easy knowing we're on the same page. I know I worry too much, everyone who has ever gotten close enough to my weary little soul mentions it at some point. But I don't think I'd be X without it.
Or at least, that's what I tell myself.
Forgive me, Father.
X
Monday, January 19, 2009
Why was Italian a weird choice?
Every time I tell anyone my schedule for this year, they always go "Italian. Thats a weird choice." Not like "OOH ANTHROPOLOGY. HOW BIZARRE." No. It's always ITALIAN. Like, it's a Nazi Propaganda, and no one uses it anymore, and it was from darkkk timmeeessss.
In other news, my ID card arrived today, I am officially a student of The University of Auckland, and I can't stress how satisfying that is to say. I move out in 32 days.
In other, other news, I got my new headset and dictaphone last night. Thank you thank you for sending them. :) They both live above and beyond any expectations I had.
I've got very little to do right now, I've been entertaining myself with odd commissions and art projects. That reminds me, got to ask mum for the ultrasounds, as well as talk to her about a tattoo. Joy. I'm kinda dreading that conversation. But if she agrees, me and dad will head down on Saturday. Grr, I was going to talk to her on Saturday, and then she was gone all weekend, and I lost my nerve. Oh well. Come on X, toughen up. :P
And now for something completely different, initially it was going to end there, but I decided to write more. Lucky you.
I've just realised how much I actually don't need you anymore. I think I needed you back to, well, to put it bluntly; realise what I wasn't missing. I'm pretty proud of myself actually, an obstacle that I thought I'd never vanquish fully has utterly disappeared. Funny that, right? Maybe I've moved onto bigger and better things, maybe I'm beginning to realise that I was looking at this whole situation wrong. Sometimes it takes some outsiders to clear the fog, and boy did they clear it. Kinda wish I could have a little bit of it back, truthfully, ignorance is bliss, kids, never forget that. It's the biggest release of my life though.
Hmm, oh look, a conversation that is more interesting than you!
This is going to be the slowest 32 days of my life.
X
In other news, my ID card arrived today, I am officially a student of The University of Auckland, and I can't stress how satisfying that is to say. I move out in 32 days.
In other, other news, I got my new headset and dictaphone last night. Thank you thank you for sending them. :) They both live above and beyond any expectations I had.
I've got very little to do right now, I've been entertaining myself with odd commissions and art projects. That reminds me, got to ask mum for the ultrasounds, as well as talk to her about a tattoo. Joy. I'm kinda dreading that conversation. But if she agrees, me and dad will head down on Saturday. Grr, I was going to talk to her on Saturday, and then she was gone all weekend, and I lost my nerve. Oh well. Come on X, toughen up. :P
And now for something completely different, initially it was going to end there, but I decided to write more. Lucky you.
I've just realised how much I actually don't need you anymore. I think I needed you back to, well, to put it bluntly; realise what I wasn't missing. I'm pretty proud of myself actually, an obstacle that I thought I'd never vanquish fully has utterly disappeared. Funny that, right? Maybe I've moved onto bigger and better things, maybe I'm beginning to realise that I was looking at this whole situation wrong. Sometimes it takes some outsiders to clear the fog, and boy did they clear it. Kinda wish I could have a little bit of it back, truthfully, ignorance is bliss, kids, never forget that. It's the biggest release of my life though.
Hmm, oh look, a conversation that is more interesting than you!
This is going to be the slowest 32 days of my life.
X
Sunday, January 18, 2009
I don't like Mondays.
Well. Only when I have to be at the hairdresser for 10 and sat up talking to you until 2am. And yes. I'm blaming you. Well. Maybe not. Was good fun, glad it happened. <3
So, I walked to the Hairdressers, beautiful day, little bit windy. Had a chat with Kimmy. She washed my hair, gave me a massage. It was heaven.
My hair now smells like God-Incarnate and is a lot less heavy. Joy.
I also finished up my 2nd semester schedule for University. (Don't ya just hate the organised bitch?) I'm kinda stressed at the moment though, I don't wanna fuck it up. (It seems pretty HARD to fuck up, but thus far it's been almost TOO easy). But I'm trying to remain calm, my stress hives are heading down, though, shit they were heinous yesterday night. And I don't feel as ill as I did either, which is always a bonus.
What a short post, I don't really have much to tell, kinda disappointing really. I'm taking some quite intriguing classes this year, some of which being;
Eh, C'est La Vie.
X
So, I walked to the Hairdressers, beautiful day, little bit windy. Had a chat with Kimmy. She washed my hair, gave me a massage. It was heaven.
My hair now smells like God-Incarnate and is a lot less heavy. Joy.
I also finished up my 2nd semester schedule for University. (Don't ya just hate the organised bitch?) I'm kinda stressed at the moment though, I don't wanna fuck it up. (It seems pretty HARD to fuck up, but thus far it's been almost TOO easy). But I'm trying to remain calm, my stress hives are heading down, though, shit they were heinous yesterday night. And I don't feel as ill as I did either, which is always a bonus.
What a short post, I don't really have much to tell, kinda disappointing really. I'm taking some quite intriguing classes this year, some of which being;
- Question of Race and Racism.
- Freedom, Rights and Justice.
- Some sociology one about Culture.
Eh, C'est La Vie.
X
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Sunday Not-so-Fun-Day
So. I worked today. 8 hours. Ugh. Sundays blow, for one, it pissed it down this morning. So we didn't get anyone in for the 1st hour. No one should be open at 9 on a Sunday except the Supermarket and Church. I could've been doing so much better stuff with my time. I honestly, am SO glad that I don't work there anymore. And am even more glad that I leave home in the not too distant future.
I'd like to pause for a moment and express how much I detest rain, or rather, being in it. I had some errands to run, so I did them at 9 because, lets face it, my coworker wasn't about to be rushed off her feet. Anyway, my body is fucking retarded. As soon as rain hits me, my fingers will go white, why is this? Wellll, I have a hereditory disease called Raynauds. Basically, when I get cold, my blood stops circulating to my fingers and toes, thus, bloodless, they go stark white. And they fucking CANE.
Anyway, so I've been running around doing relatively fuckall, but it's nice to see I haven't lost my touch. Its like riding a damn bike. A really awful, easily detestable bike. I would have rather been at home doing nothing, than at work doing nothing. It makes me so mad.
So, last night's saga, since I was a bit scarce on the details;
1) not gonna expand on yesterday. There's no need to bitch.
2) Ontop of afformentioned emotional shit, I had to listen to my mother having sex. I could hear her OVER my music. The walls aren't made of damn concrete you crazed bint.
3) Dad seemed to absorb the idea of a tattoo quite well. Even going to take me to see the tattooist next weekend IF my mother agrees. Would help if she was actually home. I can't complain, I like my solitude. But really, when you need to talk to someone, it helps if their around and have time to spare. She's currently at the BF's, wonder if she'll turn up home tomorrow. Not holding my breath.
And no, I'm not always a cynical fuck. You just get the angst end.
Cry me a fuckin' river.
X
I'd like to pause for a moment and express how much I detest rain, or rather, being in it. I had some errands to run, so I did them at 9 because, lets face it, my coworker wasn't about to be rushed off her feet. Anyway, my body is fucking retarded. As soon as rain hits me, my fingers will go white, why is this? Wellll, I have a hereditory disease called Raynauds. Basically, when I get cold, my blood stops circulating to my fingers and toes, thus, bloodless, they go stark white. And they fucking CANE.
Anyway, so I've been running around doing relatively fuckall, but it's nice to see I haven't lost my touch. Its like riding a damn bike. A really awful, easily detestable bike. I would have rather been at home doing nothing, than at work doing nothing. It makes me so mad.
So, last night's saga, since I was a bit scarce on the details;
1) not gonna expand on yesterday. There's no need to bitch.
2) Ontop of afformentioned emotional shit, I had to listen to my mother having sex. I could hear her OVER my music. The walls aren't made of damn concrete you crazed bint.
3) Dad seemed to absorb the idea of a tattoo quite well. Even going to take me to see the tattooist next weekend IF my mother agrees. Would help if she was actually home. I can't complain, I like my solitude. But really, when you need to talk to someone, it helps if their around and have time to spare. She's currently at the BF's, wonder if she'll turn up home tomorrow. Not holding my breath.
And no, I'm not always a cynical fuck. You just get the angst end.
Cry me a fuckin' river.
X
...I don't even know.
You're a fucking slut.
There I said it.
Ugh I don't even know right now. Emotional issues.
Thank you for staying up and talking to me. :)
Sometimes I think my brain is going to explode.
X
There I said it.
Ugh I don't even know right now. Emotional issues.
Thank you for staying up and talking to me. :)
Sometimes I think my brain is going to explode.
X
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Update
My memory is at such a point right now, where I don't know if I posted yesterday or not. Yesterday was a little hectic. I'd been told that NCEA released results yesterday, even though I knew by the beginning of Jan last year. But I completely forgot about it, got doing other things. Quite possibly updating this. Jesus, that's terrible.
Anyway, so I finally went and checked, Passed. Awesome. Next thing was Uni, did they want me? The thing about New Zealand, is this godawful system known as NCEA. It promotes mediocrity.
How, I hear you ask? Well, listen close, I'll explain.
The way it works is that we have Internally Assessed Exams, and Externally Assessed ones. Internals you sit during the year, and are generally little assignments. Let's use English as our exemplar.
Our Internals generally consist of:
But ohnono not in New Zealand. It's all about "Credits" here. Credits are just another way of giving an assignment some worth. It's based on the length of time needed, and the size of the body of work. Generally, English ones range between 2 and 4 credits, and take approximately 2-3 weeks to complete. Where as a subject such as Photography, which has 2 internals that are 5-6 credits apiece are given a semester to complete both.
This bit I don't mind so much. But it's what comes next that really grinds my gears. The way they grade it is like this:
B vs. C.
Big fucking difference.
On top of that, whether or not you pass the year is based on how many credits you have in your slush fund. So, if that assignment is 4 credits? Guess what, the guy that passes gets 4 credits. The guy who works his ass off and gets an E, gets 4 credits.
Now unless you're like me, and a deliberate hard worker and over achiever, there is NO incentive to put more work into it than you have to, Because the reward is the same, unless you value the satisfaction of getting the highest mark possible. Which trust me. Most teenagers don't. And I shouldn't have to point out how ludicrous this is, every other country, and every other school, and more importantly, UNIVERSITIES judge you on your MARKS.
So, for the first 2 years of NCEA, mediocrity is drummed into us, until the last year. Where every ones got into the steady rhythm of "I just wanna pass" and they find out that University is actually going to be judging them on their MARKS. Well, one University openly released that that's what they were doing, even though I know that every other Uni does it, they just don't tell everyone. So, all of a sudden, no one wanted to go to this Uni, even though, in my opinion, it's the best in the country. So, of course, being the snooty over achiever that I am, I want to go. And I apply to only that one.
I am pleased to say, with their acceptance score being 120, I was accepted on
235.
Take that, you lazy bastards.
X
Anyway, so I finally went and checked, Passed. Awesome. Next thing was Uni, did they want me? The thing about New Zealand, is this godawful system known as NCEA. It promotes mediocrity.
How, I hear you ask? Well, listen close, I'll explain.
The way it works is that we have Internally Assessed Exams, and Externally Assessed ones. Internals you sit during the year, and are generally little assignments. Let's use English as our exemplar.
Our Internals generally consist of:
- A Speech/Oral presentation. The criteria of which changes each year.
- A report or some piece of writing of a substancial length.
- An Article/short story etc.
- 3 essays. (Film, Novel, Poetry, Shakespeare depending on the year level)
- Unfamiliar texts (Close reading)
But ohnono not in New Zealand. It's all about "Credits" here. Credits are just another way of giving an assignment some worth. It's based on the length of time needed, and the size of the body of work. Generally, English ones range between 2 and 4 credits, and take approximately 2-3 weeks to complete. Where as a subject such as Photography, which has 2 internals that are 5-6 credits apiece are given a semester to complete both.
This bit I don't mind so much. But it's what comes next that really grinds my gears. The way they grade it is like this:
- E - Excellence
- M - Merit
- A - Achieved
- N - Not Achieved (Le fail)
- V - Void (Didn't attempt. Only happens usually on Finals)
B vs. C.
Big fucking difference.
On top of that, whether or not you pass the year is based on how many credits you have in your slush fund. So, if that assignment is 4 credits? Guess what, the guy that passes gets 4 credits. The guy who works his ass off and gets an E, gets 4 credits.
Now unless you're like me, and a deliberate hard worker and over achiever, there is NO incentive to put more work into it than you have to, Because the reward is the same, unless you value the satisfaction of getting the highest mark possible. Which trust me. Most teenagers don't. And I shouldn't have to point out how ludicrous this is, every other country, and every other school, and more importantly, UNIVERSITIES judge you on your MARKS.
So, for the first 2 years of NCEA, mediocrity is drummed into us, until the last year. Where every ones got into the steady rhythm of "I just wanna pass" and they find out that University is actually going to be judging them on their MARKS. Well, one University openly released that that's what they were doing, even though I know that every other Uni does it, they just don't tell everyone. So, all of a sudden, no one wanted to go to this Uni, even though, in my opinion, it's the best in the country. So, of course, being the snooty over achiever that I am, I want to go. And I apply to only that one.
I am pleased to say, with their acceptance score being 120, I was accepted on
235.
Take that, you lazy bastards.
X
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Of The Redness of Doom.
Come on now, don't shrivel your nose up at me like that, you might learn something.
Ladies, you know what I'm referring to, you get it once a month, the excuse to make your boyfriend feel like the scum of the Earth for fucking up your dinner, or maybe to get some shut-eye on a Friday night.
Period.
Periodperiodperiod.
You put one at the end of every sentence, yet when people start discussing the Redness of Doom, as I like to call it, there's a strange smell of awkward in the air, followed by embarrassed sideways glances. So in a week, you'll consume more painkillers and binge food (because lets face it; you've been waiting to gorge yourself on that new choccy bar that's been tempting you every day) than your body probably wants to digest, in some desperate plea to cure the pain. Let's be honest here, bleeding hurts, and is generally not a good sign. So it seems absolutely fitting then, to signal normality; that we bleed. It's a mammal thing.
Pain, girls, pain. We know you you're in agony, you explicitly tell us how much pain you're in when there's "No more fucking painkillers". Now, here comes the sciency bit of my little Spiel:
If you're throwing painkillers down you neck, most likely their active ingredient is; Ibuprofen. Because it's better for you than Aspirin, and the advert says it targets strong pain like Period Pain.
It. Doesn't. Work.
Let me repeat that, for those of you who are hard of hearing.
It. Doesn't. Work.
It'll give you relief for a few hours, maybe, you'll take more than the reccommended dosage, and it'll be back tomorrow, and the next day, until the initial mega-bleed is over.
You need Mefenamic Acid.
I'll repeat that, too.
Mefenamic Acid.
It is an Anti-Inflammatory drug, yes, but its design is much more specific. It reduces swelling in your Uterine. Guess what that means, kiddies? After a day, you won't have to take them for the remainder of the duration. Why? Because your Uterus isn't swollen anymore, and not pounding at you like someone repeatedly stabbing you with the business end of a mace. You'll have to go to the Pharmacy to buy it. The people that work there know what it does, and when you buy a Mefenamic Acid product, you'll get the "Welcome to the Secret Organisation" smile.
But this is what really grinds my gears, it took a nurse to tell me to get Mefenamic Acid, when all of the Pharmacists knew it'd be better than 1/2 a tray of Nurofen Plus. But why didn't they say anything? If you buy Mefenamic Acid, you won't be back in a week for some more. Hell, you won't be back for close to 4 months. Now, you tell me the last time 20 caplets lasted you 4 months.
X
Ladies, you know what I'm referring to, you get it once a month, the excuse to make your boyfriend feel like the scum of the Earth for fucking up your dinner, or maybe to get some shut-eye on a Friday night.
Period.
Periodperiodperiod.
You put one at the end of every sentence, yet when people start discussing the Redness of Doom, as I like to call it, there's a strange smell of awkward in the air, followed by embarrassed sideways glances. So in a week, you'll consume more painkillers and binge food (because lets face it; you've been waiting to gorge yourself on that new choccy bar that's been tempting you every day) than your body probably wants to digest, in some desperate plea to cure the pain. Let's be honest here, bleeding hurts, and is generally not a good sign. So it seems absolutely fitting then, to signal normality; that we bleed. It's a mammal thing.
Pain, girls, pain. We know you you're in agony, you explicitly tell us how much pain you're in when there's "No more fucking painkillers". Now, here comes the sciency bit of my little Spiel:
If you're throwing painkillers down you neck, most likely their active ingredient is; Ibuprofen. Because it's better for you than Aspirin, and the advert says it targets strong pain like Period Pain.
It. Doesn't. Work.
Let me repeat that, for those of you who are hard of hearing.
It. Doesn't. Work.
It'll give you relief for a few hours, maybe, you'll take more than the reccommended dosage, and it'll be back tomorrow, and the next day, until the initial mega-bleed is over.
You need Mefenamic Acid.
I'll repeat that, too.
Mefenamic Acid.
It is an Anti-Inflammatory drug, yes, but its design is much more specific. It reduces swelling in your Uterine. Guess what that means, kiddies? After a day, you won't have to take them for the remainder of the duration. Why? Because your Uterus isn't swollen anymore, and not pounding at you like someone repeatedly stabbing you with the business end of a mace. You'll have to go to the Pharmacy to buy it. The people that work there know what it does, and when you buy a Mefenamic Acid product, you'll get the "Welcome to the Secret Organisation" smile.
But this is what really grinds my gears, it took a nurse to tell me to get Mefenamic Acid, when all of the Pharmacists knew it'd be better than 1/2 a tray of Nurofen Plus. But why didn't they say anything? If you buy Mefenamic Acid, you won't be back in a week for some more. Hell, you won't be back for close to 4 months. Now, you tell me the last time 20 caplets lasted you 4 months.
X
In The Beginning.
The amount of blogs I've had, can be illustrated by the amount of phases my teenage form has gone through. With each new site reflecting the current branch of self discovery. It is only fitting, I suppose, that at the cusp of possibly the biggest change of my pre-adulthood, I find myself here, yet again.
Hopefully for a little bit longer than last time. Apparently I make good points, so, I'll leave the first rant until another day.
Thank you, for getting me back into this, it's probably going to do me the world of good, you know who you are.
X
Hopefully for a little bit longer than last time. Apparently I make good points, so, I'll leave the first rant until another day.
Thank you, for getting me back into this, it's probably going to do me the world of good, you know who you are.
X
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