Gah.

I am really sick of old men talking to me when I go out. I'm sorry, I'm just not gracious enough. I'm pretty sure I'm going to start dressing like I did in the good ole' days. Maybe people yelled stuff at me - but at least I don't have to have conversation with them.

I hate my new doctor. She seems to be working in the wrong place and like she doesn't have the patience for us. And now she wants me to have a pap smear. I cannot emphasise the force behind "NO" to that. No. No. No. No. No. Hell no. But I can't swap, she's the only bulk-billing doctor in the whole damn city.

The stories I tell...

Argh. Just when I thought these last 2 weeks would offer me a chance to save - not so much. And there is a possibility I cannot pay rent - as distasteful and trashy as this sounds - for some reason centrelink hasn't paid me. Gotta go in tomorrow for a doctors appointment so I hope it gets sorted out then.

Did I tell you I bought a holographic Toy Story cup? I did. And a Toy Story drink bottle. I'd like to tell you I bought so I would save money by not having to buy drinks at uni - but really, it was a Toy Story drink bottle.

I'm a daydreamer. I am constantly daydreaming, like, today I was reading a book - I could still tell you what happened even though at the same time I had a whole other story running through my head. The reason I stay in bed so late is not to sleep more, it's to curl up all cosy and daydream. My stories, they are what I wish my life could be - that sounds obvious, but even in this stories I face hardships and obstacles, I don't dream to have it all handed to me - though at the same time I do. I dream about being a hero. About doing something important - whether is saving one life or a hundred. I build that Impala or Challenger (it varies) and I live in it. For a while anyway. Then I move to a cute little cottage that I design myself. No bedroom, just a big soft bed set into the floor in the corner of my very open living room with a curtain that goes across the end of the bed. I live simply you see. Vegetable garden, apple trees and grape vines. Chickums. Vegetarian. Licence to take care of injured wildlife when they've been found and taken to the vet and need somewhere to heal, you know the deal. I'm still isolated, I still don't really have friends but that suits me, I have my animals, referred to by me as my kids. I'm adopted, and have twin brother that I instanty click with when he tells me this. I'm not sure why this always shows up in the story line - but it's about the only constant in an otherwise ever-changing world, as all I have just described is "this weeks episode" so to speak. I won't lie. Corey Monteith has been showing up a lot. Before him it was Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles and their girls. I think that's a "I'm not good at making up my own characters" thing more than anything though - I mean it's never a love story - even my daydreams are too realistic for that. My novels are somewhat successful. And of course I'm gorgeous (that's where the adopted thing comes in handy - along with some rather science fictiony gene engineering thing). Got big soft black curls - with a few brightly coloured. Green eyes, perfect pale complexion and an amazing body that could kick anyones ass - I do also live a rather violent life. Of course I can dance and sing. Play piano and guitar. And paint, sometimes I paint. I have some great ideas for paintings - if only I could produce them in real life, they'd be awesome. Oh I don't live in Australia - though I haven't really picked anywhere specific yet. I am still damaged and broken, but I'm also pretty much fearless. I have pets - lately it's been two bunnies named Ellen and Jo and two border collies named Finn and Puck. The Impala is John. The Challenger is Cassidy. The car names never change.

I'm not sure why I wrote all this, I just had to.

Life isn't worth living if you have to pay for electricity in Rome.

Im watching Butterfly on a Wheel, or, The Wheel for the Americans. It has Corbett and Ellen from Supernatural and Alex Krycek from X-Files. Put that with Gerard Butler and it's worth having to put up with skeevy Pierce Brosnan and his terrible Irish accent.

I wanted to make sweet and sour pork for dinner but I could not for the life of me find peanut oil at the supermarket.

Once upon a time...

It was a heroic battle. Against a ruthless opponent I battled day and night - oh yes, one of each. It conquered my territory, turned my own against me while I stood outside the gates and let forth a warcry filled with rage and beat against the huge wrought iron bars, seemingly to no avail. The Virus, who had successfully convinced my guards (aka; very expensive Norton Security, Premier Edition) that nothing was wrong, that all was as it should be, laughed maniacally in it's new chambers. It took over the village people and brainwashed them (aka; tried to tell me all my files were corrupted) and offered me a place at it's right hand (which I swiftly and repeatedly clicked 'no' to. The few loyal and brave that were trapped in the village yet refusing to follow this evil Virus, were silenced (aka; the Virus wouldn't let them open). This Virus was a cunning magician and could disguise himself as one of the commoners. My guards, though as idiotic and lazy as they were, noticed the evil emmanating from the Virus the moment before it spread it's tentacles of evil through my kingdom and had time to note this in their manifest. I needed a name, I felt that uncovering it's true name would give me what I needed to de-throne this horrid plague. And so, using my womanly charms I seduced the guards and gained access to this manifest (clicked 'security history' in the Norton menu). It took hours to read through, it turns out I had under-estimated my guards and this manifest was highly detailed. Skipping over the noting of birds flying over the gate and every entry and exit by villagers and knights, I finally discovered what I was looking for. They had turned away this stranger - the one who was now being fed grapes by my hand-picked sexy servants, and had made a thorough description of the unknown wanderer. He must have gained entry another way, a chick in my kingdom's defenses (I made a note to rectify this once I took back control). I tracked down his history, where he came from, who he associated with (found the file in my computer). He was protected by some dark magic, I discovered none could touch him. Many had tried and yet he appeared to be immortal, protected by an unseen force (should have known pressing 'delete' would have been too easy). Just when I was ready to give up, relinquish what was rightfully mine - someone came to me. They claimed to know this Virus, they were both students under the same mentor. This samaritan told me this mentor of theirs held the secret to the Virus' demise. With many thanks and a few chickens, I left that kind stranger and tore apart the Realm looking for this mentor. I will not bore you with the details of my journey (unplugged my computer and pulled the battery out so I could start it in Safe Mode) but I found this mentor. For days, days! I tortured the evil Hitler-youth-creating bastard, and finally he surrundered to me a safe (see what I did there?) the held the Virus' soul. For as long as his soul remained in this world he would remain safe from fatal harm. The trouble with this, as I learned, is the sould must be made corporeal, tangible, so that it may be contained. With my broadsword (cursor) I shattered the lock (started Task Manager), and with a victorious cry I drove my weapon into the black twisted shadow held in the safe - destroying, once and for all, this curse, this plauge, this Virus, freeing the world of all evil (deleted some random thing). There was an almighty blue flash! It engulfed the Realm, and for a moment I experienced the sensation of pure horror, I was convinced I had been tricked and brought about armaggedon. It receeded as quickly as it appeared, however, and I turned to look out the entrance to the cave I had found the mentor in. The world was beautiful, the grass was greener than it had ever been, the sky bluer and the animals healthier. For days, the villagers of my kindgom celebrated and feasted and brought me gifts of all kinds to display for me their gratitude at being set free from the Virus' clutches, for now they saw how they had been tricked. Tales of my heroics and determined loyalty to my kingdom reached all corners of the land, and all was right again in the world.


The End.

Fark off.

So, went to bed about midnight, 1 o'clock last night. On the verge of a deep sleep when THE MOST AGONISING PAIN EVER tears through me. It was always bad but since I stopped taking the pill, period pain as been horrifying. Weak and dizzy and crying and slightly delirious. I had no pain killers and lying down made it worse. I had the cramps, my insides tearing apart and for some reason my right hip and leg we aching something fierce. I didn't get back to bed until 6 when it calmed down enough for me to lay down. So I didn't get up until 2. Ergh.

But, what I was really going to blog about was the Entitled ones. Gosh, I sincerely hope that if I have kids they do not turn out as molly-coddled mamas boys or daddys girls that rely way too much on technology and flaunt what they have. People who look at you like you are crazy when you say you don't use electric blankets - dude, get another doona or flannel pj's? People who can't fathom a bathroom cabinet not filled with every over the counter pain killer and then some. People who think struggling for money means they have to own 1 car, when they have 10 million laptops, Austar, a giant plasma, travel overseas every other year. Like that chick on Packed to the Rafters, though she is an over the top example.
I am damn fucking proud of the way I can live, taking the dirt road - as the old song goes. I mean it isn't something I have to work towards, it's how our family was raised - you know, in the real world? In reality?
I don't want to turn around one day and realise that my teenagers, adults, are so dependant on me they can't spend one night alone without having coniptions, separation anxiety on your first day of day care is one thing, but you know... I don't want to realise they don't know the value of a dollar and how to save or expect to have everything without really working for it. I don't want to see them look down their noses at people because they have made different choices in life.

Sometimes I feel like this. C has her licence and my god do I feel belittled for not having mine. I got my learners then I moved - you know, I took a chance, I left my parents behind and lead my own life? So anyway, here you have to have a certain number of hours on your learners which I obviously can't get since I don't have anyone to drive with. It never bothered me, I like the environmentally friendly and cheaper public transport. But now I feel so patronised by everyone. It makes me angry, like I mean all the time, it just simmers in my mind.

Tra-la-la..

Ew. Watching True Beauty. It makes me feel better about myself, lol. I can't say the guys are good looking either. Not looks anyway. And that chick is wear a shirt and tights, I could've hugged Carson when he said "She's not wearing any pants". TIGHTS ARE NOT PANTS! Lol.

Anyway, having an insomnia phase, complete with a binge eating, er, binge. Im bracing myself for the inevitable anorexia phase to follow.

OH MY GOD! Biggest news of the decade, rented a movie called Hybrid today - starring Cory Monteith, also known as Finn, or Terry in "Wendigo" (Supernatural episode) haha. He becomes a wolf-boy. Not a werewolf, so not gross and hairy and drooly, but absolutely sexy and dangerous and hunter-like that doesn't wear a shirt very often with wolf eyes. Actually he is shirtless on the cover - I didn't even notice until hours after I got home. It's like the Supernatural scene when Sam walks out of the bathroom in just a towel and all I thought was "what a hideous towel". See I'm not as shallow as I make myself out to be. I just like the sexy dangerous hunter thing...

That being said, I also rented the new Friday the 12th movie coz Jared Padalecki in it. I wish I hadn't. Those movies are never good. They are the epitome of teenage horror mo isvies - a bunch of horny teenagers. I highly detest such movies. And it's always, oh they are all dead - no real plot. At least Jared's character was more sensible than they usually are in bad horror movies.

$200 for an outfit? And they can't do that? Man, I've done it for under 20 - ok extreme circumstance. But 50 and under is easy...ish. 40 bucks for a damn hair clip?? Silly.

Masquerade Ball has been cancelled. Might pick it up again later but right now I mean I am trying to organise cross institution study, thinking about moving, my mental health is taking a drastic decline and I am only just keeping it together, I start uni in a week, and all the regular day to day living shite. Should probably tell Casey. But I think we are still not talking, and this won't help.

Im gonna kill him.

I have a decision and a half to make. I want to move out. There are some places I could rent easy enough. But it's going to take money isn't it. Buying furniture. Paying the bond. Moving my stuff. I was going to save. A lot. Go visit family. Go travel. I so want to travel. It's all I have ever wanted to do. Selfish. But my god, I think staying here is insanely bad for my mental health. The stress. 5 other people. The noise. The mess of the kitchen. The disgusting hygiene habits of the guy we share a bathroom with. I need my own space, preferably a little more than 3 by 6 room. Where I don't have to time my movements in the house so I don't run into anyone. So that when the kitchen gets cleaned by the few us that do it, it's not completely filthy again 5 minutes later. I am seriously sick and tired of this house.

If only she knew...

She's mad at me now. She thinks I intentionally guilt trip her. I'm sorry my life-long depression I barely have a hold in is such an inconvenience to you. Of course I don't do it on purpose. Darling, I have accept my depression, I am almost proud of it since it had made me less ignorant and more insightful and understand and stronger. But it tears me apart when it manifests itself in such a way that it hurts those around me. I can't stop it. I have managed to recognise the signs and I try to silence it, but I don't know it's coming.

She is all like "if you have problems go somewhere else". If only she knew how much I don't take to her. If only she knew the reason I am thinking of moving out and leaving her behind is to protect her. I love her to pieces and I will miss her so much, but my depression hurts people. I have realised I have to live my life alone. I am going to have to become that angry and stand-offish and cruel girl I was in high school to keep people away from me.

Fuck you.

Im going to beat him to a bloody pulp. I am going to torture him until he is a shell of what he once was. I have already dreamt several times about killing him. They are very satisfying dreams.
The bathroom: Pee on the floor. As usual. Bottles litter the shower floor that he has knocked off the shelf somehow. Subway wrappers on the floor. Wtf? The sink is filthy. There is probably cutlery and cups in there too, its so normal I find that I don't notice anymore.

The kitchen: No bench space due to about every plate and cup and bowl being scattered on it. Food scraps and wrappers. The wok not cleaned. The cutlery draw is even a mess, just a pile of utensils been shoved in. Ants everywhere. Rubbish and boxes that are his that he leaves for someone else to get rid of, you know - to go one metre out the door and put them in the big bins. The fridge must smell and be full of mouldy food, as (there are 2 fridges) K has moved into ours because he can't stand what they have done to the other one.

There is trash all through the lounge room, bottles on the floor that we know are his, no one else here drinks ginger beer.

I am yelling. It is going to begin with "Listen to me very carefully and do not interrupt. You are an arrogant, disrespectful slob!" And end with "in this country the women are not the help, the other guys clean up after themselves without complaint and we are not here for you to leave a mess and we will clean it up, if you don't like that then you go back to your own Communist country!" He is from China you see. I am going to follow him around all day making sure he cleans top to bottom like every other person in this house has so many times - due to him mostly. We have asked and asked him. Now I am going to yell. He has broken several parts of our lease agreement, so I will also be letting him know if this behaviour continues he may well be out on his ass.

Hear ye, hear ye.

I am to journey back to yonder Launceston of the day named for Saturn. I shall be going to market to gather supplies for my future studies and spread the word about the Lady's Grand Ball. I shall also be visiting my physician so that she might tell me what is wrong with me that I am unable to sleep.
That was fun to write.
"If I wasn't any good at cleaning the kitchen I wouldn't feel like I would fulfill my duty to society as a female, thank you for your validation, male."
Kitchen jokes are funny.
I am now addicted to FrontierVille. You should add me as a neighbour. It's good, I've never been addicted to a facebook game before. At the moment I have a bear and a rattle snake in my garden, but they aren't doing any damage and I don't have the means to get rid of them.

Wax on, wax off.

In Queenstown now, and true to the generation X stereotype, my friend and I are sitting on separate laptops at the dining table, facebooking and looking up biographies of our favourite celebrities. Or rather, Alan Rickman, the sexy beast ;)

I am disappointed in myself at not having more preparation done on the advertising for my Masquerade Ball. Had a lot to deal with in the last week and so did not have time to open the bank account needed to fell the other dominos in the line.

I have just been complimented on my poetic writing - which is not strongly present in this entry of course, but still, I feel jubilant at the receiving of this praise. I am rather passionate about writing, and while I am aware not everyone had the same taste in literary styles, one thing that triggered my spiral into depression towards my last year of schooling and resulting in my failure of the year - was some rather cruel words and degrading of an assignment that I was rather proud of by my English teacher. Though it was once burned into my brain I can now not even remember her comments, I believe it was something along the lines of it not being academic enough. Guess I was always destined for fiction writing as opposed to academic scriptures.

I have been warned against taking philosophy as a university class as it may be 'frustrating' due to the inability to have an orginal thought. I now realise this may have been a compliment of sorts - in the sense that my stalwart attitude and insightful mind may cause me to feel repressed by my lecturers when they tell me my writings on the subject are not referenced enough, despite how impressive their content may be. However, I have concluded that I am an amatuer philosopher in the most basic sense and would be happy to study the great ideas and names behind them.

Rawr.

I felt out of the loop, everyone was using this blog site and not wordpress like I was, haha. That and I got sick of getting spamed.

This is my other blog, Im just going to follow on from the last entry next time I write.

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