Friday, April 29, 2011

Growing up...just a little ;)

Hello all! I hope you all had a wonderful Easter break, filled with family, good food and Easter egg hunts.

I have refrained from posting this last week, mainly because my posts would have gone something like this:

Grrrmumblegrrkjvdfkvnd %&*$ fghfdsd &^%$ WHY WORLD, WHY?!

No, nothing terrible happened. At the worst, it was a mildly irritating week. But I did decide, for whatever reason, to throw myself the largest one-woman pity party the world has ever seen. Family, chocolate, friends, chocolate, chocolate... nope none of that was going to cheer me up. I was determined to wallow in my own self-pity, everyone else be damned.

I try not to do this, I really do. But every year, for a week or two, I fail. I crawl into bed and refuse to get out. I bitch, moan, complain and throw myself around the house like a wounded animal. But this time was a doozy.

Saturday two weeks ago I got the flu. Oh and what a flu it was. Raging fevers, runny nose, sore throat, you name it I had it. And rather than heading straight to bed like someone intelligent, I decided to power through the week like nobodies business. Work? Yeah, sure I can do it! Just give me 10 blankets, a handful of panadol and a desk to nap on (seriously) and I’ll be fine. How could that be anything but a good idea?!

Presentation at school? Why not! Just because I can barely talk doesn’t mean my speech won’t be awesome!

*side note: I got picked on during my speech. By uni students. Adults. Can you believe it? Who does that? The last time I got picked on was four years ago by some nine year olds at a water park! (Yes that did happen and yes I did cry). Act your age...stupid heads...

Anyway, so that got the pity party going. And then for some reason I felt an unknown urge to feel attractive. Scratch that. I wanted to feel downright sexy.

And why? I have never wanted to feel like that before. Because I am just not. I can’t pull it off. Eighteen years of scrubbing toothpaste off my clothes every morning has taught me that. But for some reason, in my feverish state, I decided that sexy and desirable I was going to be. I donned my shortest skirts and a face full of makeup.

Did it work? No. Not even a little. Despite the fact that I.am.just.not , it’s also completely impossible when your nose is dripping and red, you have the voice of an 80 year old man, you are coughing up your lungs every second AND..wait for it (and put down whatever you’re eating) your eyes are dripping mucus. Seriously. Gross right? I mean, what the hell body. What kind of stupid defense is that?! I CAN’T EVEN SEE HOW BAD I LOOK..oh wait..that must be what it was for.

Anyway, once the pity train left the station it was hard to turn it around. Add a best friend leaving me for year to live in the States, a mix-up with an assignment that meant it was 6 days late, another assignment mix-up, an argument with a friend, and you have a crying, whinging, unbearable me.

It wasn’t until Monday, when I had finally pulled myself out of bed after a four day hiatus from the world to lick my wounds, that I realised how painfully awful I was being. Everything that had happened was either inevitable, or me being completely unrealistic/stupid.

And so, as I was driving and admiring the glorious sunshine, the birds singing, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee floating through the air, I gave myself some very good advice.

No, it wasn’t, ‘everything happens for reason’, ‘make the most of what you have’or ‘live life to the fullest’. Because while they’re great and all, I give myself little positivity boosts ALL THE TIME and sometimes what a day-dreamy, whiny, wrapped up in minor first-world problems girl like me needs to hear is this:

Harden. The Fuck. Up.

It’s not polite. It’s not positive. It’s not made up of all of the happy little things I love about life. But boy was it needed.

I could continue on the same path, with the same positive chants to pull me out of tough times. Waiting for everyone else to make things better for me. Blaming the world for my problems.

Or I could look around and realise that I HAVE NO REAL PROBLEMS.

And when things do go wrong, I can fix what I can (me, no one else), then stop whining about what I can’t. Maybe put things into perspective. Take some responsibility. Build some resilience.

And stop being SUCH a drama queen.

Because there comes a point when we need to grow up, as unwelcome as it first appears. Not for anyone else, simply for our own happiness.


Monday, April 18, 2011

the saddest love letter

Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that – everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V

-The last note written by Virginia Woolf to her husband before she committed suicide
.


'If anybody could have saved me, it would have been you' is the most heart-wrenching, perfect line I have ever read.

Friday, April 15, 2011

a story of a boy and girl

They sit in the car side by side, neither one of them speaking. They’re not really sure what to say anymore. They know that they want to say something, anything, to fill the silence. Because the silence is saying all of the things that they don’t want to hear.

She looks across at him. Looks across at the man she loves. The one she knows better than anybody else. The one who knows her, both the good and the bad. The one who loves her for her imperfections.

She wants to reach across and take his hand. Tell him that she loves him. Make it all okay again. But pride and stubbornness hold her back. Anger too. Yes, there is plenty of that.

So she looks down at her lap instead. And another brick is added to the wall that is being built between them.

She looks down into her lap and sees the two of them together in fifty years. The car has changed and so have the people within it. But the silence is still there. It is not full of resentment anymore. Just resignation. They gave up on the idea of each other years ago.

The wall that they began working on so long ago is bigger than both of them now. They love each other still, she can see that. But they are too tired to care anymore. Too tired to try and understand each other. They stopped trying a while back. Back when the wall got so high that they just couldn’t see each other anymore.

She shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. Feels the heaviness of the atmosphere. Of that wall that is beginning to form. She looks over at him again. Reaches out her hand and takes his. Tells him that she’s sorry. That she loves him. That she always will.

Watches as all of the bricks that they had begun to pile together collapse in a cloud of dust, allowing them to breathe again. Together.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

But miss, I'm allergic...



At the end of every semester, when all of a sudden everythingisdueatonceandeventhoughyouknewitwascomingyoudidn'tbothertostartuntiltheverylastsecond, I. get. sick.

Without fail.

There is only one logical conclusion I can draw from this.

I am allergic to homework.

Now I'm off to go and inform my teachers. You guys will back me up, right?

RIGHT?!


ps. (this whole ps. thing is becoming a habit, sorry!). Thank you for your book recommendations. It was cool to see a couple of titles pop up numerous times: Water for Elephants, The Alchemist, The Hunger Games and the Bell Jar. I will definitely have to suggest these at the meeting, along with the other recommendations as well :)

Monday, April 11, 2011

One thing off my bucket list

I am feeling quite proud of myself: I have officially started a Book Club.

Ok, so I started it a while ago, but when you forget to schedule meetings and decide on a book to read...let's just say it doesn't really work out all that well.

But somehow, I have managed to pull it all together this time around. We have a meeting time, a meeting place, most members have bought the book AND (here's the important part) most have READ the book already.

Does anyone have any great books that they can recommend?

I have a hunch that this Wednesday will be the only successful meeting we manage to have, what with most of us being completely scatter-brained.

But hey, at least I can say I started a book club, albeit a short-lived one. So time to get out my pen and cross that off my bucket list!

ps. If any of you are from Canberra and want to join in on the fun, we are meeting at King O's at 7:30pm in the reading room. The book is called 'Of a Boy', it's in the Penguin Classics, and it's super short and a fantastic read. Completely and utterly depressing at the end, but still a great book!


pps. No caffeine and sugar (well I failed a little..so limited sugar) has made me feel great! I definitely won't stay in this teetotaling stage when it comes to tea and coffee for long, but for now I feel good :) more zen like again, and less likely to run someone over for looking at me the wrong way....

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

wednesday dreams

Sometimes I am a teensy bit girly.

I have a fondness for colourful dresses that knows no bounds. So of course, when I stumbled across Pushing Daisies, I was smitten.

Aren't you?


Grrrrr...



I had been feeling very Zen like lately. Which is strange for me. Very, very strange. It’s not that I am highly-strung or anything. But I am jittery. Fidgety. I cannot stand sitting still. I bounce from one emotion to the next. I worry about all of the things I have to do that I did not make time for.

But somehow over the last few months something shifted. I began to feel more...peaceful. Instead of bouncing from over the moon ecstatic to painfully ordinary feeling in a heartbeat, I am stable. I am happy. It doesn’t take one silly little thing to throw me into the depths of despair anymore.

Or at least I was feeling that way.

Feeling particularly Zen like at the coast, I was congratulating myself on the great work/school/life balance I have going on at the moment. And I thought ‘hey, this is the perfect time to start working on other aspects of my life.’ So I decided to focus on getting enough sleep, getting regular exercise and eating healthily. How could that do anything but make me feel fantastic? And considering I have an intolerance to sucrose and glucose that results in debilitating migraines, that was the first thing to go. That and caffeine.

As much as I hate to admit it, getting up early in the morning to exercise does leave me feeling pretty fantastic. And sleeping a bit longer feels pretty wonderful too.

But this whole giving up sugar and caffeine thing?

Worst. Decision. Ever.

I feel awful. I am tired and shaky. My head is pounding. I can barely keep my eyes open past three.

And I am angry.

God I am angry. I found myself yesterday wishing it was socially acceptable to hit people over the head for talking to me. Boy do I wish it was. I am the opposite of Zen. I am a raging, teeth grinding, Godzilla woman on a rampage.

I am giving it a week. One week without sugar and caffeine. If my head hasn’t exploded or I haven’t killed someone by then I deserve a medal.

Stupid everything.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

29 Day Giving Challenge- completed

Well I have officially finished the 29 Day Giving Challenge (actually I finished it a week ago but am incredibly lazy when it comes to writing posts). I don’t think I have done anything recently that has had such a positive effect on my life. Soon, I didn’t need to remind myself to give every day. It just came naturally. I felt more connected with the world around me. I felt more willing to care.

I didn't always give money or things. Sometimes it was smile, a compliment, a kind gesture. Strangely enough, they seemed to make an even bigger impact. Who knew that we were so powerful? That by simply caring, we could make someone’s life a little bit brighter?

That was what really stuck with me. I have always talked about wanting to make a difference to someone’s life one day. I just never realised that I already could. That I already was.

A week after the giving challenge has officially finished, I am still giving every day.

They may not be huge, earth-moving things; but they are still changing the world a little bit at a time.

Monday, April 4, 2011

sun, surf and sand




I love our annual beach trip. When my friends and I all pack our bags during the last warm week of the season; to soak up enough of it to last us for the next six months. I love hearing the sound of the waves as we pull up to the coast house that is so familiar now. I love drinking cider and talking about nothing and everything around a campfire. I love lazy days, filled with sun, sand, scrabble, and all the episodes of Skins. I love feeling sick from eating junk food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I love playing in the surf half an hour after I open my eyes in the morning. I love trying to body-surf with friends, though none of us can really swim. I love the in-jokes, the laughter and the late night conversation.

I love heading back to Canberra on a Sunday evening; sun kissed, exhausted and happy.