Thursday, April 21, 2011

Game Over.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been fascinated by other people’s beliefs and how they can be so content with the stories that tell of how the world and our own very existence came to be.
In my primary school, we were spoon-fed tales from the bible and told to believe every word to be truthful and if we so much as dared to question these teachings, our inquisitions would be met with the threat of eternal damnation. (Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration.)


Alright, that's it. Straight to hell.

As a result of this, I have backed away from religion entirely (for the time being) and refer to myself as 'agnostic'. My grandma has a definition of agnostic which I think sums it up quite perfectly: she says something along the lines of "An agnostic is someone who does not believe in God, but will not say so out loud for fear that he will hear them."
:P I have an awesome grandma.



After losing a few loved ones when I was young, I found solace in believing that I’d see them again one day in heaven.  As I matured and found out about how many things can be proved by science, I found it a little depressing to think that if there really was no God, then there couldn’t possibly be a heaven.  
And if there isn’t a heaven, there can’t be a hell, which means that this life is all we have.  Which means that after we die, it’s game over.

Which brings me to my next unanswerable question:  When we die (which, let’s face it, is inevitably going to happen someday), will we know that we’re dead?  Or will things just suddenly stop?  Like a power outage..
The lights are on one minute and then, BOOM, they’re off, before you can even comprehend it.
..Except in the event of a power outage, we become aware of what has happened after it occurs.  It’s not like after you die, you’ll think to yourself “Well fancy that.  I seem to have kicked the bucket.”

I guess my lack of belief has at least given me incentive to enjoy life as much as possible while I can.  Now, I leave you with a question.  And I don’t mean to offend any of you.  In fact, that’s the absolute last thing I want to do.  If your beliefs differ to mine, that’s cool.  I ain’t judging.  But anyway, the question:
If God can successfully commit genocide, why is everyone hating on Hitler for trying?

Hindsight: Wow, I'm a really terrible person. :P

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

On The Brink of Madness.

Well, this year's gotten off to a terrific start.
Oh, did I say 'terrific'?  I meant to say horrific.
First the town gets torn apart by a category 5 cyclone and now a massive flood has come to wash away the remains.
I'm not really that cut up about missing a few weeks of school though.  I guess I probably should be, considering it's my senior year and all.  But I have my biology assignment to keep me company here at home.
It's crazy how attached I'm getting to these bean plants.
-The ones that have decided to actually grow, that is.
A majority of them are just being lazy..  But I can't really blame them.
This rainy weather tends to have that effect on me as well.
A couple of them have even started growing mildew.
Mind you, I probably brought it upon myself by placing them in a fish tank.
I do feel a bit mean for doing this to them, but it's all for the greater good.
All in the name of science!
I'm observing the differences of the rate of growth between plants grown in a sealed environment and plants allowed to grow in the open.
This means I have to provide them all with the same amount of water and exposure to sunlight and whatnot.
It's only been about a week so far, but in this time, I like to think that I've created a special bond between my plants and I.
I had a nightmare the other night about my tallest bean plant dying.
Thankfully, it was just a nightmare.  When I came running out to check on it, it was looking as healthy and happy as ever.
If plants had faces, it would have been smiling.
Good lord, I'm beginning to sound like a crazy person.
Plant'stache.












Oh wait, that's right.  I am a crazy person.
Good day. 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Confessions.

There is a new revolution that has somewhat taken over Facebook:
confessions.
This is where someone posts a status saying something along the lines of "For every like, I will post a confession! :D".
Some people's confessions are actually really interesting and hilarious, but a majority of them, not so much.  And when every single one of your Facebook friends is doing this, it becomes quite overwhelming.
It's kind of like, (but nowhere near as annoying) as "Inbox me a number and I'll post a status about what I really think of you! :D".
That one drove me absolutely mental.  What I don't understand is why they couldn't just inbox each person back, instead of posting fifty or so statuses saying exactly the same thing:
"12345: Omg, I luv you so much!  Youv bin there 4 me since lyk evah and I kno we;ll be bfflz!"






But without any further ado..
Behold, my 10 confessions:
  1. I have a scar on my right eyelid where I was pecked by a hostile chicken at the age of seven.
  2. I have this weird habit of blowing into cups before drinking out of them.
  3. I have problems with anxiety.
  4. I spend far too much of my time worrying about what others think of me.
  5. I'm self conscious about my toes.
  6. I keep my opinions to myself for fear of offending people.
  7. I am terrified of deep sea fish.  Even pictures of them scare me.
  8. I believe we are all inherently racist and that people nowadays are just too sensitive.
  9. I don't know how I would have survived this long if I hadn't learned to laugh at myself.
  10. I make faces at myself in the bathroom mirror almost every day without fail.
So they're not the most interesting confessions in the world..
I try not to reveal too much about myself in my confessions.  Some people delve deep within themselves and reveal some of their darkest secrets, which can become quite creepy.  I don't mean things like "I drink milk straight out of the carton when no one's watching."  That's cool.  -A little germy, but still nothing compared to some of the things people are admitting to.
Things like "I am bicurious and have experimented with girls in the past."  Fantastic.  You've just casually let 200 or so of your 'closest Facebook friends' in on your sex life.
Some confessions leave you thinking "What are you even doing on Facebook?  You should be in a psychiatrist's office right now, sorting your shit out."
Thanks for reading. 

Monday, February 28, 2011

Oh Noes.

Something's not right with me.
I've been noticing it for a while now.
See, the thing is..
I'm getting meaner.
Many people would see this as a good thing, as I used to be waaay too nice.
I mean, it's good to be nice and all, but I was nice to the extent that people would walk all over me.
I didn't know how to say no.  This is still something that I struggle with, but I'm improving.
Slowly.
Behold, an example from my past:
English teacher: "Why, hello there, Sarah.  You seem bright.  Would you like to join the senior debating team?  We're one person short and are supposed to compete next weekend."
Sarah: "Ohh, I don't know..."
English teacher: "We debate over some strikingly interesting topics!  The topic for next weekend's is "Which of these two political leaders had the most integrity: <insert two random names that I had never even heard of.>""
Sarah's brain: "DON'TYOUFUCKINGDARE..."
Sarah: "Er, sure.  I don't see why not!"

...

Another thing:
I used to be sympathetic.  Pathetically sympathetic, in fact.
And I still am..  But only to certain types of people.


Well actually, pretty much all people..  Except for a select few.
One of these lucky few makes it her business to post at least one attention-seeking status on Facebook every waking hour of the day.  I guess over the years this has just gotten to me a little bit.
An example from just a few short minutes ago:
"<insert name here>: feels like banging her head up against a wall til it bleeds."
Upon reading this tragic status, I instantly felt a great deal of sorrow for the poor, unfortunate wall.
And a curious inquisition as to why she was so intent on making a wall bleed in the first place.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Ahem..

To the creator of the Honey Soy Chicken flavoured Red Rock Deli chips:
MARRY ME.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Just My Luck.

As you may or may not know, I have spent the last couple of weeks without power as a result of the recent cyclone.
Category 5, bitches!








The whole experience has been like one really long camping trip.
Sadly, I've never been too fond of camping.

Anyway, back to the point of this post..
Today was school photo day:
The day that stands out as being the single most horrific day of the school year.
The main reason for this is because every school photo day, it's always excruciatingly hot.
It's especially bad for the senior students, as our formal uniform consists of a blazer, which is freaking thick (which is somewhat unnecessary what with our boiling hot climate) and a skirt that comes down past our knees.
Because at a Catholic school, if your knees are visible, you're clearly promiscuous.
Obviously the boy's uniform is slightly different in regards to the 'skirt' part, but you get the idea.

Now in order for me to be ready in time to catch my school bus, I have to wake up at about 6am.
At 'about 6am', it is still pretty dark.
And because I was without power, I had to have a cold shower.
(I am the next Dr. Seuss.)
I then had to continue getting ready for school photos in the darkness of my room.  Let me tell you, it is no fun putting on makeup in the dark.
The whole time I was saying to myself, "Why couldn't they have made school photos one week later when I'll have power...  WHYYY!"

You can probably guess where this is going, so I might as well just jump straight to the ending.
I got home this afternoon after a day of being drenched in my own sweat and looking like death to find that I have POWER.
I'm so happy.
Words cannot describe.
Still, it would have been nice if it had been restored yesterday.. :P

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Ambiguity = Fun.

Something I absolutely love doing in my spare time, is posting really ambiguous statuses on facebook.
-Statuses that can be interpreted in so many different ways.
I have no idea why, but it just makes me feel so powerful...  And when people comment on them, it's like I know something they don't.  Which makes me happy.
Especially when it's something that can be interpreted really negatively.
For example:
"<insert name here> just can't do this anymore.."
(Adding a couple of dots to the end of a statement can make it seem so much more dramatic.  Remember this; it will get you far in life.)
And then people comment on it, saying things like "Don't do it!  You have so much more to live for!"
Dean Laugh
Priceless.
Then I say something like "Calm down, I was talking about my math homework.. :D but thank you!"
It's the little things like this that make me enjoy life.

I also find it really interesting to see who comments and how they interpreted what I have said.
Sometimes it can even give you a little insight as to what people think of you.
That is, if you do it right.. (;
Do any of you do things like this, or am I just weird?

Saturday, February 12, 2011

I Give Up.

I have a sneaking suspicion that my neighbours think I'm a little bit odd.
They have acquired a knack, over the years, of peering over the fence at the absolute worst of times.
Earlier today, my grandma, who lives just down the road from us, had a tree removed from the roof of her house where it had fallen as a result of the cyclone.
Her cat, Crikey, who flinches at the sight of moths, took one look at the man who had come to remove the tree and legged it.
Of course, I can't exactly blame him.  That man had the craziest look in his eyes..

..Oh, and did I mention he was wielding a chainsaw?
No?  WELL HE WAS.
But anyway, after the chainsaw-wielding madman had left, Crikey was still nowhere to be found.
I set out to search for him, because I just couldn't stand the thought of anything dreadful happening to him.  He's so beautiful and FLUFFY! >w<
Usually when I meow at him, he replies, so I was franticly running around the place meowing at the top of my lungs, when out of the corner of my eye, I see my neighbours.
Staring at me.
With their judgmental eyes.
I decided to take a break and head back to my grandma's for a while.
And sure enough, there he was.  Waiting for me.
The little shit.
I bet he had it planned from the very beginning.
*sigh* I give up on trying to be normal.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Aftermath.

For the next couple of weeks, I am living in a tent.
Not because I don't have a house anymore...  I do.
-Which is incredibly lucky, considering my hometown was one of the areas that was most affected by the recent cyclone.
(Well, I don't exactly live in town...  But I'm not far out.
And I went to school there.
So I just like to call it my hometown;
Makes me feel like I belong somewhere...)
crying
But anyway, back to my tent.  
The reason I am living in a tent is that my 'hometown' is without electricity and my house is like a sauna.  
And saunas are hot.  
And heat makes you sweat.  
And I don't like sweating.
When I say I'm living in a tent, I don't mean full on 'camping' in the yard.
That would be crazy.  
The yard is full of mud...  
Muddy mud.
Muddy mud that reeks of death and decomposition.
And plus, the verandah is safe.  And breezy.

But this is only minor compared to the sheer devastation that some people have been faced with.
The morning after the cyclone I went for a drive around my 'hometown' to inspect the damage, and I could not believe my eyes.  The sand from the beach had all washed up onto the main street and there was sand on the doorstep of pretty much every shop in town.  Almost every tree was either on its side or had been completely stripped of all its leaves.  There were houses without roofs.  
It was madness...  Blasphemy...













But the thing that baffled me most was the fact that the previous day, everything had been normal.  All of this had happened overnight.  
And it was amazing how different everything looked.  Places that had once appeared distant suddenly looked so close.
But what's even more amazing is how everybody has been working together to restore the town to its former 'glory'.  Sure, I'll admit that my 'hometown' is and always has been a bit of a hole...  But it's our hole.  Without it, we wouldn't be whole.  (That's community spirit right there.)
And the army men who have come to help out are nothing short of wonderful.
Not only do they work like slaves;  They look good doing it..
And we are all extremely grateful.

Nevertheless, I think for a while at least, an appropriate district motto would be:
"Cyclone Yasi kicked my assi."

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Beginning of the End?

I don't mean to alarm you, but...
I am going to die.

...Well, perhaps that was a slight exaggeration...
(I've just been waiting for an excuse to use that .gif for a really long time now.)
But there is a massive cyclone headed straight for my hometown and I predict that things around here are going to get pretty effed within the next few days.
I was watching the news last night and the weather report came on.
I'm usually pretty chill when it comes to cyclones and whatnot, but when I saw the picture I was like OMGOMG WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE.
And then I saw this, which freaked me out even more.
So if a couple of weeks pass and I haven't posted a new entry on here, chances are, that's what's happened.

But on a more serious note, my thoughts are with all of the families in Cyclone Yasi's path of destruction.  I sincerely hope that you all make it through in one piece.  God bless. 

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Growing Up.

Something that I have only just begun to come to terms with is how quickly I am growing up.  I know growing up is something that must happen eventually, but when it does happen, we find ourselves wishing we could be children again;
in a world of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, where we could play in the dirt and eat worms all day long without being judged by those around us.
But we wouldn't dream of doing these things now..  That would be social suicide!
- This is one of the things about childhood that I miss the most.  The way that all children accept one another, just the way they are.
Even the one sitting in the corner eating play-dough.
(Yeah, 12 years ago that kid was me.)

This is something I observed last year when I did my work experience at the local Prep.  I dealt with my fair share of children with snot dribbling down their faces and even some with a rather keen appetite for glue; but no matter how freaky some of these children were, to my astonishment, they all had large groups of friends.  When I compare this to the social situation at my highschool, it's crazy to think that we all used to be that accepting.
Nowadays, people my age ridicule anyone who's the slightest bit 'different' and start nasty rumours and only ever hold hands when they're dating.

To be honest, growing up has always been one of my biggest fears.
One of my favourite books as a child was Peter Pan.
The idea of escaping from all responsibilities and hassles of every-day life to a place where I could stay young forever always appealed to me.  Of course back then I didn't fully understand the moral of the story as I do now.
But I can always find comfort in the realisation that no matter how many wrinkles I acquire, to some degree, my childish immaturity will always be in tact.


















So, the moral of this post is:
Hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife and hide yo' husband,
'CAUSE THEY RAPIN' ERREBODY OUT THERE.

And more importantly, hold onto your childish immaturity with all your might.  Because who needs acceptance from snooty popular people!
Your true friends will love you for the freak that you are.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

A Birthday To Remember.

We all have that one moment in our lives thus far that stands out as the single most terrifying moment we have ever experienced.
Without further ado, I will now tell you about mine.
About a month ago, one of my best friends decided to have a sleepover for her birthday and invite all of "us girls".  It was approaching midnight and we were having a great time just sitting around the dimly-lit living room talking and gorging ourselves on lollies.  We we were all keeping an eye on the time, as we were anxiously anticipating the hour of midnight, as our friend would finally be 17.
There were ten seconds...
Nine...
Eight...
Seven...
Six...
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One...
All of a sudden, we heard a creaking noise, so we all turned our heads just in time to see the door behind us slowly opening.
And within a second of this happening, all of the lights went out.
Now, I'm not usually much of a screamer..
But I screamed so loud that I had tears in my eyes.
In my defense, I really thought I was going to be killed..!

I wasn't the only one screaming though.
All five of us were hysterical.
My flashlight was sitting on the table in front of us, but I was too scared to reach over and turn it on.  WHAT IF THE PSYCHO KILLER GRABBED ME..!
So we just sat there in the darkness, all huddled together on the couch, too afraid to utter a single word.  ..Which, now that I think about it, doesn't really make sense, considering how loudly we had screamed.

A couple of minutes later, the family came to our rescue.  I can only imagine how freaked out they would have been when they heard us all screaming.  But it turns out that it was storming profusely outside, and the power going out was merely a result of a massive tree falling on the power line.
Nevertheless, we didn't go back downstairs until morning.
Unless we needed to pee.
(The bathroom is downstairs.)
The creepiest thing about that night was that all of this coincidentally took place at midnight.
Oh, and I think it would be kind of ironic to die in a living room.
But despite us all fearing for our lives, it was still our best sleepover yet!

Now, for some audience participation:
What's your most terrifying moment?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Life's Greatest Mysteries.

So my best friend Jackie and I thought it might be fun to write a blog entry together!  (Check out her blog!  She's rad. )

Sometimes, when we're feeling inquisitive, we find ourselves pondering some of life's greatest mysteries:
  • What is my purpose in life?
  • Is there a God?
  • Is any of this even real?
  • ..Am I real?
  • Who let the dogs out?
  • Was it the same inconsiderate bastard who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?
  • Are we human, or are we dancers?
  • Why do we refer to night time as "after dark" when really it comes after light?
  • Can one simply walk into Mordor?
  • Does expecting the unexpected make the unexpected become the expected?
  • How did the Flintstones know about Christmas?
  • We all dream...  But do we really dream?
  • If the world will end in 2012, in which time zone will it end?
  • What would happen if Pinocchio said "My nose will now grow"?
  • If a person with a split personality threatens to commit suicide, is it a hostage situation?
  • Is there an actual purpose to this blog?
Yes, there most certainly is.
Life can sometimes be as hard as trying to fathom just how the hell Catdog manages to poop.
(Yet another of life's great mysteries.)
HOW DO YOU DO IT!?
The truth is, you can never be sure of what life has in store for you.
It's amazing how much can change in just one day.

...Imagine this.
You are a pilot.
You are flying a plane.
Your day is off to a great start.
You had a perfect take-off, you haven't experienced any turbulence; you're a happy little Vegemite, as bright as bright can be.
Suddenly, the plane you're flying suffers an engine failure and your plane-load of passengers begin rapidly plummeting towards the ground below.
You are aware that the plane has a back-up engine that you can activate.
You also happen to be aware that every single passenger on the plane is a convicted felon, all of whom have been sentenced to death.
Here, you find yourself faced with two choices:


Choice A:  To activate the back-up engine, regain control over the plane and arrive safely at your destination; thus maintaining your flawless reputation as a pilot.
Choice B:  To sacrifice yourself in order to ensure the deaths of each and every criminal on board the plane.  You would die a hero and go down in history.


Basically, what you should take from this somewhat ridiculous analogy is that in some cases, there is no easy choice.

On an unrelated note, sign language is awesome!
Last night Jackie and I decided to teach ourselves how to sign a sentence or two.
As of yet, my favourite word is "bacon".

Friday, January 14, 2011

Fat Lip.

Earlier today, I somehow managed to bite my bottom lip.
I was a little annoyed, but I didn't make a big deal out of it.
I mean, it happens to the best of us.
Anyway, I went and looked in the mirror about 5 minutes ago, only to find my bottom lip swollen to the size of ... [insert a a clever word/phrase comparative to the size of my swollen bottom lip here.]
Let's just say, it looked kind of like this:

Minus the beard and manface.













Well perhaps that was a not-so-good example.
But you get the general idea.  Thank you, Google Images.
What makes matters worse is that I am going for my Learner Driver's Licence on Monday, and (providing that I get it), I will be photographed with a bottom lip the size of my head.
And it won't just be a normal photo that I can untag in the vain hope that it will never be seen by the eyes of anybody with whom I have anything to do with.
I will have to carry it around inside my wallet for a whole year.  And sooner or later one of my friends will be sure find it.
And from that day on, I will be known as "Fat-lip".

OR

My lip will have completely deflated by Monday and I won't have anything to worry about.  Apart from looking like a dead stoner in my Licence photo.

...OR

I will fail my Learners test and have nothing at all to worry about!
Until the following day when I sit the test again. -___-

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Buy Me This & I'll Love You Forever.

It's kind of sad how hard it's becoming to just let nature be nature...
Nevertheless, I MUST HAVE THIS.

Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World.

"This song goes out to the guy who keeps yelling from the balcony.
It's called "We Hate You.  Please Die.""
I am head over heels in lesbian with this movie.
  • It's based on the comic book series "Scott Pilgrim" by Bryan Lee O'Malley, yet it is so deliciously different to the average comic book-based movie.
  • It's from the director of "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz", which are both brilliant!
  • It stars Michael Cera and his typical geeky, socially awkwardness that I adore, yet in this movie he is so much more badass.
  • He is in a band called "Sex Bob-omb".  And they play songs that make people think about death and get sad and stuff.
  • Young Neil is adorable.
  • Kieran Culkin makes the best gay roommate.
  • It references so many awesome things that I love.
  • People explode into coins.
  • 'Ramona Flowers'' character kind of reminds me of 'Clementine' from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  And I love that movie. :D
  • Each one of Ramona's evil exes has their own quirks and are hilariously intent on ending Scott Pilgrim.
  • It's like the best movie ever!

"Oh my God..  You punched the highlights out of her hair..
HE PUNCHED THE HIGHLIGHTS OUT OF HER HAIR."

Breakfast.

So I'm just munching away on my toasted sandwich at 1:57 in the afternoon, when the thought occurs to me that the word "Brunch" is somewhat unnecessary.  
The term "Breakfast" is made up of the words break + fast.  "Break", meaning 
'a disruption or interval' and "fast", 'to temporarily abstain from food'.  
So essentially, Breakfast is a disruption or interval in one's temporary abstinence from food.
Going by this definition, every meal should be called "Breakfast".
But I can see how that could get confusing.  Friendships would be ruined; relationships destroyed.
People would arrive at eating venues expecting to meet their associates for "Breakfast" and get uber offended when they don't show up on time.  
Utter chaos would ensue.
But to avoid this confusion we could number our meals:
Breakfast 1
Breakfast 2
Breakfast 3
Breakfast 3.5 (For those who love to snack.)
Breakfast 4
And even Breakfast 5!
That would save us the effort of remembering all the alternate meal-names.
Morning tea, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, dessert, midnight snack attack, AND THEN THERE ARE THE SYNONYMS.
It's just too much.
Less words = More brainspace.
That's enough blogging for now..  I have to Breakfast.
That's right.  I used Breakfast as a verb. ;) Ch'yeaahhhh.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Wouldn't It Be Crazy...

Wouldn't it be crazy if what we consider to be 'life' was just one highly advanced game of Sims, and each and every one of us was merely an avatar being controlled by some unknown being...
We may very well have been programmed to think that we feel feelings and smell smells.  When we play video games, for our controllers, it's kind of like a video game inside a video game.
Our controllers could be responsible for ensuring that we eat, drink and exercise in order for us to stay alive.  (Kind of like Tamagotchi! :D)
If this is so, then my controller is responsible for the writing of this blog entry, depicting the immensity of my paranoia.
Thanks a lot, controller.  Now people will think I'm crazy..
(Or rather their controllers will program them to think that I'm crazy.)
..Every now and then, I watch for glitches and dead pixels.
Sooner or later one's sure to show up.
Our controllers are responsible for developing and maintaining our relationships with other avatars (-or destroying them for their own selfish amusement).  Eventually, our controller will select a mate for us and when the time comes, program us to get freaky and have little baby avatars.

...This is what happens when I write late at night.
Thanks for reading. ..That is, if you made it this far.

Photographs















I think that the reason we treasure photographs is that unlike the people in them, they never change.  No matter how different things around us are becoming, photographs will always stay the same.  (..Unless, of course, they’ve been Shopped.  
..Or they’re moving photographs like the ones in Harry Potter.  
I apologise for bracket-ranting (-the act of ranting inside brackets (Did I just make up a word and define it within a separate pair of brackets?  Damn straight I did.)) but how freaking awesome would that be!  I guess nowadays there are digital photo frames...   That’s pretty cool :D and you can store videos on them so they can be kind of like the ones in HP; but slightly less zomg-freaking-awesome.  The next step is digital newspapers; Where the pictures move and whatnot.  They have them in Harry Potter too D: damn I wish magic was real.)  But, moving back to my original thesis, each photo represents a memory.
A sad truth is that sometimes, photographs are all we have.

Photos can also be used as evidence; and not just to prove criminals guilty.
Evidence that you're not going crazy and that things really did happen.  Because when you think about it, our memories may be far from accurate.  Who's to say that some of your most treasured memories even took place at all if there aren't photos to prove that they did.
(And boom.  Just like that, your mind has been blown.)
It's scary to think about though.. :S

Looking at a photograph can take you back to another place and time where things were completely different to the way they are now.  This can trigger some pretty powerful emotions.  I’m such a crybaby when flipping through old photo albums.  But I enjoy it.  Hell, sometimes I even play some gentle music to add to the mood.  Yeah, I’m pretty much the lamest person alive.  (..Evermore are wonderful.  And Coldplay.  I can’t believe I used to get those two confused. :S)

Some photos just make you wonder “WHAT THE SHIT.”  
The one below is a prime example of this.
Your argument is invalid.

So get'cho film on. Capture moments. Have fun. But not too much fun.
As Howard Moon says:
"We all like having fun, but it's even more fun, when we can have safe fun."
:P

Friday, January 7, 2011

Don't Panic.

Usually when you look back over a year, all the bad things that happened stand out like Robert Wadlow in a room full of midgets.  (He's the tallest man alive.  
I Googled it.)
But when I look back over 2010, it's different.  I can truthfully say that it was, overall, a really good year.  Perhaps it only seemed that way because so many bad things have happened to me that I've forgotten what "really good" actually means, but I prefer to think otherwise.  I'm not that cynical.
But despite how "really good" 2010 was, I still managed to have my annual panic attack.  I guess I bring it upon myself every year by bottling up my emotions to the point where absolutely anything can set me off.  At this time of year, I'm a bottle of Diet Coke and my string of worries, plus the thing that triggers my panic attack, are the Mentos.

Perhaps this is a slight exaggeration.

But I did discover that breathing into a paper bag when hyperventilating actually does help a lot.  I thought it was just one of those things that they do in movies, like flying with jetpacks or falling in love.
(Kidding about the "love" part.  I just said it for dramatic effect.
I totally believe in love! :D
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.")
I feel like watching Moulin Rouge now. :3
But i will later.  I have to finish packing my overnight bag, as I'm spending the night with a friend of mine whose name I cannot reveal (for her own protection).  So let's just refer to her as "Melissa".
And by "finish packing", of course I mean "start packing".