Sourpuss

She's so hotheadded and unreasonable, my mother. I mean, I know she's been really stressed and angry lately, but that doesn't mean she has to take it out on me just because I'm the most available victim. And she didn't have to be that harsh. And she didn't need to say all those
things. And I don't have to keep quiet about all the things she does.

And maybe she has the right to be angry and maybe I may have deserved it, but I still didn't need to cry either.

Edit: Thanks for calling. You made my day :)

Shuffle

I don't know. I'm not feeling anything right now. I should be angry at my mother and excited for the upcoming school year at a new school, but I'm not. This is different from my usual relaxed contentedness. It's weird.

I'm trying to cure this mood by putting my ipod on shuffle. Four Winds by Bright Eyes at the moment... Wait, now it's Joanna Newsome.

Dianna suggested I write a blog about me feeling nothing. Is it working? I reckon this post will be very short and boring.

I hate how you can't tab on blogger. In fact, I don't like blogger much at all.

I'm feeling quite poetic at the moment. Brace yourself for some bad poetry:

I's not a song I hear
When I turn on my ipod
Noise, noise, noise
After all, music is only noise
Arranged to make sense
Noise, noise, noise
We all love
Noise.

Yeah, I don't think the shuffling ipod is working much. And I'm not a very good poet, I know.

Farewell, friends.

P.S.: Happy Australia Day, everyone!

PostSecret

PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard.
I've been meaning to blog about this a while ago. These postcards are so beautiful. Some a a real laugh, while others are devastating.

 

 

 

 

 

Amanda Wachob

Wow. Now, I've seen some pretty awesome tattoos, but tattoo artist Amanda Wachob's work is amazing! Her conceptual tatts are so beautiful that I'd love to have something so special and significant like that inked on me for the rest of my life.

 

 

A rockin' playlist for you:

Elenore - The Turtles
Wouldn't it be Nice - The Beach Boys
My Generation - The Who
Romeo and Juliett - Dire Staits
Hey Now Now - The Cloud Room
One Crowded Hour - Augie March
Mellow Yellow - Donovan
Vagabond - Wolfmother
Motorcycle Driveby - Third Eye Blind
Here Comes Your Man - Pixies
My British Tour Diary - Of Montreal

Yes...

I'm at G-ma's place at the moment and my mum just told me to exchange
the $40 JB Hi-Fi gift card that my sister gave me for my birthday for
money to pay for my school supplies this year.

I wasn't sure of she was completely serious, but I still thought it
was a horrible thing to say.

My grandmother just came home from Vietnam and she brought home a lot
of statues of Mary and etc. My aunty is insisting that she make a
shrine in my room for the Mary statue she pocked for me. I have nohing
againt that, it's just that I have no space for it on my room and the
Mary she picked out has really freaky eyes. I wanted the sweet little
wooden one with no clear facial features.

Sent from my iPhone

Thought travel

Today I watched a documentary on SBS Two called 'The Great Sperm Race'.

 (Sperm racing through the vagina)

(Sperm in a giant valley that is the uterus)

(Sperm are encountered by red blood cells that identify the sperm to be invading infection and attack)

The journey of the sperm to fertilise the egg is like no other - millions will die so that one can hopefully conceive. This documentary brings the process to life through a fun 'reenactment' by human actors of the reproductive process. (From the UK in English) (Documentary) CC WS

It was highly amusing and informative, and was slightly frightening because the 'reenactment' of the sperm racing from storage in the males testes to fusion with the female egg was like a war. The sperm people were dressed in all white clothing and there were millions and millions of them racing to the egg. I gave a hearty chuckle when the sperm were in the semen and being ejaculated into the vagina -- they were riding a water slide, ha! When they were traveling through the vagina they were running through a massive mountainous valley, because, apparently, that is how big a vagina is to a mere sperm. The sperm then went into the cervix, uterus (where they encountered the enemy that in a woman's immune system), fallopian tubes and then, finally, the egg where only two sperm remain from the original  250, 000, 000.

Then there was that lucky little fella that made a home run to the egg and sacrificed his life to create another.

Imagine how many people there are in the world now. Think about all the sperm that died while racing to the egg that created each and every person on earth. If every single sperm had an egg each to create it's own human... Wow, the earth would have a humongous population.

The thing that got me thinking in this documentary was that scientists were explaining that even it 1-4 sperm make it to the ovaries, it all depends on their timing on whether the egg is ready to be fertilised or not. They said that if the sperm that fertilised the egg that then created you was to be too late or too early when reaching the ovaries, a different sperm could have gotten to it and thus made you a different person. Smarter, better looking, different personality. Just one little difference in timing could have made you a whole different person.

To end this abruptly, after mulling over how I could have been different in anyway, I realised that I am incredibly lucky to be born just as I was: a healthy and normal baby who grew to be a somewhat bearable human being.

Thanks, little spermy. I think I love you.

(images via Channel4)

Just for laughs.

Via TechBlog

The Lego Kitchen was created by Munchausen, a duo formed by Parisian designers Simon Pillard and Philippe Rosetti, where they customized a basic IKEA kitchen island bar and then spend a full week covering it with more than 20,000 Lego pieces 

Via Always Looking

 Via GraphJam

Whhoooo are yoouu??

I always find myself pondering about who or what type of person I am. Whether they be someone I know personally, or someone over the internet, the people I admire all have specific, unique qualities that make them all awesome and cool. For example: The Black Apple is sweet and folk-y, Angstgoddess003 is prolific and an amazing writer, Katrina is politely outspoken and witty, and Emma is a psychedelic 60s junkie. How cool is that?

Well, this blog is about me having a hard time figuring out who I am.

In the essay I wrote when applying for the scholarship I described myself in words such as opinionated, realist and self-confident, but when I really think hard about it, I don't think I am two of them.

I have been known (by very few people) to seem positive despite the fact that most people would describe me as a pessimist, but I am neither of those things for I believe myself to be a realist. I do have many fantasies where my life is exciting and dramatic like a good (romance) book, but those things are only nice to think about and foolish to hope for.

So that leaves the two remaining adjectives that I believe myself not to be.

Although I do ponder a lot about most hings that others may find useless and random, I also have strong opinions about most subjects that come about in my day. That is probably where the thought of me being opinionated originated from, but that isn't technically what makes an opionated person. An opinionated person is one who thinks about all the things that I do, and voices them, and I do not voice my thoughts or opinions much.

For the past year, I always thought I was self-confident. I thought I was self-confident in my schooling, social status and group, appearance and overall self, but this blog sort of contradicts that, does it not?

I can say that I am an arrogant, inconsiderate, attention-seeking swot. I'll agree with that.

I mean, I know that I could be good in design and that with more persistence and less procrastinating, I could be a fuck-awesome writer (my arrogance talking), but being a rebellious and difficult little snooty teenager, it's just not that easy.

I have few things of mine that I am proud of: my 'Post Mortem' english horror story, Doodle4Goodle design and my year 8 'Adelyn' story. Those are the things that I can truly call mine, the things that I did with only what I have in me, the things I am proud of -- despite some those things being half-arsed and incomplete. I know that I am proud of those things because after about a year of leaving them be and completely forgetting about them, I can still call them awesome after I look at them again.

I don't know what do call myself, I don't know who I am. I just... don't know.

Sigh... This hasn't helped at all.

A belated apology:

I just want to apologise for everything that I may have done to offend or hurt you in 2009. I know I have said and done some really awful things and this blog isn't a giant excuse. I want you to be angry at me when I do horrible things. It'll help me to be less of a bitch.

I find that it's really hard for me to say sorry about something that really hurt someone. I can apologise for accidentally doing something, but I can never make myself actually say it to someone's face even though I am sincerely sorry for my actions.

I almost always edit and over-analyse everything I think before I make it public. That's how I can make myself sound super smart sometimes. But on the rare occasion when I just blurt something out, different consequences occur. Sometimes I blurt out something absolutely hilarious, and others it's just me trying to say some intelligent speech but it coming out all wrong and offensive instead. This can also be seen in some of my blogs. Sometimes I am just so overrun by emotion that the things I write are obnoxious, grammatically incorrect and often way too personal to be sharing over the internet. But sometimes I just need to rant. This blog in someways is a way of me telling my friends what I'm to frightened to tell them in person.

I can list quite a few times all that has happened.

Again, this is no excuse. I know I can be a horrible person, and I can't blame you for thinking worse.

I just want to really sincerely apologise for every stupid, ingorant, obnixious thing I have done to hurt you last year. I could go into the specifics about certain incidents, but I'm too afraid to.

Goodbye.