Lots of people commented that the man I described in my last post didn't exist - that he was perfect and I expect too much and surely I don't think I'M that perfect.
I don't expect that any one man will fulfil criteria 1-10, and I know that even if he did the chances of him wanting to be with ME would be incredibly slim since I don't tick all those boxes, myself. I figured maybe I would make a post to show that I don't think I'm perfect - I know I have flaws. The last post was just a bit of a laugh, something to think about, you know?
Anyway, no holds barred, here we go:
10 Reasons I Suck At Being A Girlfriend
1. I'm a firm believer in double standards [mine, not yours].
2. I'm incredibly self conscious. Don't try to play or joke around about my looks or my personality or my job, my life, anything really, because I will take it personally and we will fight. That said, it's perfectly okay for me to make fun/play tease about your life/job/looks/penis. See point one for detail.
3. I hate conflict. I will flat out ignore you to avoid having an argument. That said, if you push me too far and keep nagging/yelling/talking it will eventually tip me over the edge, I'll lose control and yell and become completely unreasonable.
4. I hate sharing a bed. I like to sleep cocooned up in the blankets, completely tucked in on all sides. This isn't possible when sharing a bed with someone. I also like to sleep on my side, cuddling a pillow. The pillow cannot be replaced with a person. If I can't sleep exactly as described, I'll be ... crabby.
5. I'm the opposite of a housewife. I hate to cook, I abhor cleaning, I don't take any pride whatsoever in the presentation of my home. In my last apartment I had lived there for over a year and never hung a single photo or made a single attempt to personalise the house whatsoever. A house is somewhere you go after work to eat and sleep, nothing more.
6. Most of my friends are guys. I don't see a problem with that. I'm naturally a fairly flirty person so sometimes a guy will get the wrong idea and develop feelings for me. I won't stop talking to them, I'll just wait for them to get over it. I will get shitty at you if you bring this up. All that said, I will be incredibly uncomfortable with you having female friends. Please see point one for detail.
7. I love my family. My family will always be more important than you ever could be. I will always prioritise them over you.
8. I will ignore you until I want attention, and at that point, I want it immediately. I will expect you to drop whatever you are doing in order to spend time with me, until I get bored at which point you can feel free to leave. Immediately.
9. I dislike being touched. I can handle the occasional hug but don't try to hold my hand or snuggle up to me. Don't invade my personal space, it's very important to me.
10. I'm never wrong. Anything that ever goes wrong is your fault. You started every argument. You caused every conflict. You left the light on. You didn't lock the door. Etc, etc.
So there you have it. There's lots of things I cut out because they overlapped other reasons, but mostly I just think 10 is a good number for "reasons" posts. If I was going to put just one more in there I'd probably have "11. I know all of the above and I don't make any real attempt to change it/improve". Which, lets face it, is worse than having all of those faults in the first place.
Anyway, I'm home sick with a head cold [again -- damn you terrible immune system] so I'm going to curl up and watch some TV or maybe do some reading/get some sleep. Hope you're all well!
xx. A.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Thursday, March 3
Friday, November 19
A night of questions.
I'm finding that -- as my "I'm sick while I'm sick" days go on -- my sleeping schedule is getting even more messed up than it ever has been before. Sometimes I just wont sleep at all because I can't stop coughing, other times I'll sleep 16 hours straight [exhausted after all that coughing and not sleeping]. At any rate, tonight [last night] was looking to be another sleepless one and I found the most fantastic waste of time/way to pass the time.
It's a website called Formspring and basically it's just a platform to ask and answer questions. Some of them are pretty ridiculous but some actually inspired a bit of thought on my part and some careful answers.. I thought, seeing as I spent the night writing [when I intended to blog] I might crosspost a few of the questions that I thought were particularly interesting or thought provoking. Feel free to duck over there and ask anything, also! You can sign up or be completely anonymous, which appears to be something of great appeal to lots of people.
If you had a genie that could grant you three wishes, what would they be? (excludes wishing for more wishes)
This one is hard. I want to believe I'd be selfless and wish for things like world peace, ending world hunger, etc, but honestly with the way my life has gone the last year or so I feel like if I don't give myself the edge, nobody will. Life certainly isn't going to do me any favours.
1. I'd wish for good health for myself and my loved ones. Fantastic health even. I'd never want to experience even the common cold again.
2. Financial security. Not Bill Gates security, but I'd want atleast enough that I could pay out all my and my loved ones debts, buy a house and stuff to fill it and invest the rest and live off the proceeds of that investment if I chose to.
3. Amazing luck. I want to be the kind of person who is always just in the right place at the right time. I want to win random movie tickets, cruises, meet up with friends I didn't know were in town! I'd just want to be a Lucky person -- I feel like that would translate to being a happy person. Also, nothing bad ever happens to lucky people so I feel like this wish is effectively protecting me from anything really terrible, for the rest of my life.
How would you describe your personality?
I have in the past been described as a personality chameleon. I find it very easy to read people and to adjust myself and my personality to reflect what I think they want.
I think a nicer way of putting this is that I'm quite charismatic.
If you were going to be stranded on a desert island and could only bring five things and five people (any era, living or dead), what/who would they be?
People:
- My dad [he's good at building stuff and someone would have to make a shelter]
- Gail [dad would be lonely without her]
- Karen [she's my twin and I'd be bored without her].
- McGuyver [I don't care if he's not real].
- Probably someone random based on what week it was and who I was chatting with a lot at the time.
Stuff:
- A boat.
or, if I wasn't going to be a smartass.
- Waterproof matches.
- Rope.
- A hugeass freaking packet of Nurofen.
- My iPod.
- One of those nifty sun-powered iPod chargers. ;)
What happens to the things you imagine once you forget them?
That's a fantastic question.
I like to think they swim around somewhere in the back of your mind, waiting for you to remember even glimpses of them.. but maybe they're just gone forever. That's a fantastic reason to write everything down, if nothing else.
What are two things standing in your way of writing a book? What are two things pushing you in the right direction of writing a book?
Two things to stop me writing:
- The fear of failure/not completing it/it being really terrible and nobody wanting to read it.. I guess, fear, in general.
- Time. Writing is a huge commitment. I feel like if I had a laptop I'd be more likely to write more often because I wouldn't have to sit down in my office and do nothing else - I could be inspired ANYWHERE. Maybe that's something to add to the wishlist..
Two things pushing me to write:
- My family and their lack-of-acceptance for excuses about why I'm NOT writing a book. <3
- The need to compete with 15-year-old me.
What does fifteen-year-old you have that you don't? What doesn't she have that you do have?
She is blind to the way the world sees her. She believes in her writing with a faith only someone who has never been told "no" can have.
She lacks the experience I have now. The strength of will and determination.
Do you believe in free will, or are we all just puppets of the laws of physics and chemistry etc?
I believe life is like a choose-your-own-adventure Goosebumps book. Everything is pre-written but the decisions you make along the way guide you to one of many pre-decided endings.
So I guess I believe in free-will to a degree. You can decide to go to the beach or not to go to the beach, but the outcome -- either way -- is predertermined and leads to yet another series of decisions that have already been written.
... anyway I thought some of it was interesting. I'm so addicted to this website now, you should go sign up and make an account! Not all the questions have to be deep and hard, it can be fun too, I just picked out the questions and answers that I thought were worth repeating.
xx. A.
It's a website called Formspring and basically it's just a platform to ask and answer questions. Some of them are pretty ridiculous but some actually inspired a bit of thought on my part and some careful answers.. I thought, seeing as I spent the night writing [when I intended to blog] I might crosspost a few of the questions that I thought were particularly interesting or thought provoking. Feel free to duck over there and ask anything, also! You can sign up or be completely anonymous, which appears to be something of great appeal to lots of people.
If you had a genie that could grant you three wishes, what would they be? (excludes wishing for more wishes)
This one is hard. I want to believe I'd be selfless and wish for things like world peace, ending world hunger, etc, but honestly with the way my life has gone the last year or so I feel like if I don't give myself the edge, nobody will. Life certainly isn't going to do me any favours.
1. I'd wish for good health for myself and my loved ones. Fantastic health even. I'd never want to experience even the common cold again.
2. Financial security. Not Bill Gates security, but I'd want atleast enough that I could pay out all my and my loved ones debts, buy a house and stuff to fill it and invest the rest and live off the proceeds of that investment if I chose to.
3. Amazing luck. I want to be the kind of person who is always just in the right place at the right time. I want to win random movie tickets, cruises, meet up with friends I didn't know were in town! I'd just want to be a Lucky person -- I feel like that would translate to being a happy person. Also, nothing bad ever happens to lucky people so I feel like this wish is effectively protecting me from anything really terrible, for the rest of my life.
How would you describe your personality?
I have in the past been described as a personality chameleon. I find it very easy to read people and to adjust myself and my personality to reflect what I think they want.
I think a nicer way of putting this is that I'm quite charismatic.
If you were going to be stranded on a desert island and could only bring five things and five people (any era, living or dead), what/who would they be?
People:
- My dad [he's good at building stuff and someone would have to make a shelter]
- Gail [dad would be lonely without her]
- Karen [she's my twin and I'd be bored without her].
- McGuyver [I don't care if he's not real].
- Probably someone random based on what week it was and who I was chatting with a lot at the time.
Stuff:
- A boat.
or, if I wasn't going to be a smartass.
- Waterproof matches.
- Rope.
- A hugeass freaking packet of Nurofen.
- My iPod.
- One of those nifty sun-powered iPod chargers. ;)
What happens to the things you imagine once you forget them?
That's a fantastic question.
I like to think they swim around somewhere in the back of your mind, waiting for you to remember even glimpses of them.. but maybe they're just gone forever. That's a fantastic reason to write everything down, if nothing else.
What are two things standing in your way of writing a book? What are two things pushing you in the right direction of writing a book?
Two things to stop me writing:
- The fear of failure/not completing it/it being really terrible and nobody wanting to read it.. I guess, fear, in general.
- Time. Writing is a huge commitment. I feel like if I had a laptop I'd be more likely to write more often because I wouldn't have to sit down in my office and do nothing else - I could be inspired ANYWHERE. Maybe that's something to add to the wishlist..
Two things pushing me to write:
- My family and their lack-of-acceptance for excuses about why I'm NOT writing a book. <3
- The need to compete with 15-year-old me.
What does fifteen-year-old you have that you don't? What doesn't she have that you do have?
She is blind to the way the world sees her. She believes in her writing with a faith only someone who has never been told "no" can have.
She lacks the experience I have now. The strength of will and determination.
Do you believe in free will, or are we all just puppets of the laws of physics and chemistry etc?
I believe life is like a choose-your-own-adventure Goosebumps book. Everything is pre-written but the decisions you make along the way guide you to one of many pre-decided endings.
So I guess I believe in free-will to a degree. You can decide to go to the beach or not to go to the beach, but the outcome -- either way -- is predertermined and leads to yet another series of decisions that have already been written.
... anyway I thought some of it was interesting. I'm so addicted to this website now, you should go sign up and make an account! Not all the questions have to be deep and hard, it can be fun too, I just picked out the questions and answers that I thought were worth repeating.
xx. A.
Tuesday, November 2
Blast from the past!
So I was up late last night [surprise surprise] chatting with a friend to pass the time and we got onto the subject of my writing. I was telling him how everyone keeps encouraging me to write but it's so hard because I am just so critical of myself. 16 year old me was an amazing person - if I do say so myself - she had imagination and the guts to explore it and she wasn't scared to push aside the 'real world' to do that.
I feel as though I am competing with this girl and when I write now I find myself backspacing more than I type. It sounds extreme but I've had to resort to promising myself I wont backspace at all, belting out an entire post/story/whatever and then allowing myself 10 minutes for editing at the end. No more. If I was allowed to run free with my editing I'd never get a post up because there's always something that could be worded better, always something I could research and sound more plausible.
Anyway I've decided I'm going to share a few 'oldies' from around 2000 -- I was FOURTEEN [well.. fifteen later in the year but that's beside the point] then. I've decided teenage me was awesome but adult me has billions of years experience on her and is going to [once she has had a chance to get back on the horse again] knock teenage me's writing out of the park.
This was a poem I wrote for year 10 English. These days I would never have dreamed of attempting poetry, much less something this long, so I think I'm going to do one of the Poetry challenges for Project: Writers [Un]Block in the near future.. face that fear head on, you know?! Anyway, on with it.
Someday
He rode upon the sky
And the dark plane he was in
Cast an earthly shadow
A shadow small and thin
But everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
He launched the tiny Cesna
Into the grave of blue
And when the wind and clouds caved in
He promised to stay true
The little Cesna, Shirley
Was brave and strong and good --
When Shirley couldn't make it
Her humble master could
In unity they suffered
And conquered every foe
And flew from mornings blinding light
to midnights ebon glow
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
When skies were dark and baleful
He kept his goals in sight
He yearned for fame -- to see his name
In marquee's of gold light
He whispered to young Shirley
"You're with me til' the end"
And Shirley promised to be strong
And save her lifelong friend
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
With wings of silver eagles
And little fuel to spare
He soared upon the open skies
In hopes of getting there
But hurricane winds trembled
And a storm was soon full blown --
He clenched his fists and firmly vowed
To do it on his own
But the hurricane was ghastly
And it tore the battered sky
Like a cheetah lashing with razor teeth
Or a vulture on the fly
The rain and wind were wedded
And the marriage finallly steered
Shirley toward exactly what
Her master always feared
The hurricane had driven
The plane down through the atmosphere
Until its pilot realised
The bitter end was near
Still everynight he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
But as he whispered steadfast
He felt an inward ruth
That everynight, his words had grown
Father from the truth
And then that night, small Shirley
Felt her vigor disappear
And then she told her master
That he couldn't cry a tear --
For they would die together,
And never have to part
The Cesna felt her soul entwined
With her dear masters heart
And one last time he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
Shirley sailed downward
And plunged into the sea
But still her silent Cesna heart
Was whole, and close to he
Her master sank down with her
His lonely head above
The heart of her, his only plane
And too -- his only love
He still lies there this minute
Now petrified as stone
With no marquees, no lights of gold --
He was a man unknown
No nomument was built for him
No poems to laud his name
And no one ponders over his
Eternal, ceaseless game
But maybe a young child whispers
Every morning, somewhere near
Something strong and simple,
that she hopes someone will hear:
"Lord, let me remain until my death,
Undaunted by defeat.
This, my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet".
xx. A.
I feel as though I am competing with this girl and when I write now I find myself backspacing more than I type. It sounds extreme but I've had to resort to promising myself I wont backspace at all, belting out an entire post/story/whatever and then allowing myself 10 minutes for editing at the end. No more. If I was allowed to run free with my editing I'd never get a post up because there's always something that could be worded better, always something I could research and sound more plausible.
Anyway I've decided I'm going to share a few 'oldies' from around 2000 -- I was FOURTEEN [well.. fifteen later in the year but that's beside the point] then. I've decided teenage me was awesome but adult me has billions of years experience on her and is going to [once she has had a chance to get back on the horse again] knock teenage me's writing out of the park.
This was a poem I wrote for year 10 English. These days I would never have dreamed of attempting poetry, much less something this long, so I think I'm going to do one of the Poetry challenges for Project: Writers [Un]Block in the near future.. face that fear head on, you know?! Anyway, on with it.
Someday
He rode upon the sky
And the dark plane he was in
Cast an earthly shadow
A shadow small and thin
But everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
He launched the tiny Cesna
Into the grave of blue
And when the wind and clouds caved in
He promised to stay true
The little Cesna, Shirley
Was brave and strong and good --
When Shirley couldn't make it
Her humble master could
In unity they suffered
And conquered every foe
And flew from mornings blinding light
to midnights ebon glow
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
When skies were dark and baleful
He kept his goals in sight
He yearned for fame -- to see his name
In marquee's of gold light
He whispered to young Shirley
"You're with me til' the end"
And Shirley promised to be strong
And save her lifelong friend
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
With wings of silver eagles
And little fuel to spare
He soared upon the open skies
In hopes of getting there
But hurricane winds trembled
And a storm was soon full blown --
He clenched his fists and firmly vowed
To do it on his own
But the hurricane was ghastly
And it tore the battered sky
Like a cheetah lashing with razor teeth
Or a vulture on the fly
The rain and wind were wedded
And the marriage finallly steered
Shirley toward exactly what
Her master always feared
The hurricane had driven
The plane down through the atmosphere
Until its pilot realised
The bitter end was near
Still everynight he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
But as he whispered steadfast
He felt an inward ruth
That everynight, his words had grown
Father from the truth
And then that night, small Shirley
Felt her vigor disappear
And then she told her master
That he couldn't cry a tear --
For they would die together,
And never have to part
The Cesna felt her soul entwined
With her dear masters heart
And one last time he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"
Shirley sailed downward
And plunged into the sea
But still her silent Cesna heart
Was whole, and close to he
Her master sank down with her
His lonely head above
The heart of her, his only plane
And too -- his only love
He still lies there this minute
Now petrified as stone
With no marquees, no lights of gold --
He was a man unknown
No nomument was built for him
No poems to laud his name
And no one ponders over his
Eternal, ceaseless game
But maybe a young child whispers
Every morning, somewhere near
Something strong and simple,
that she hopes someone will hear:
"Lord, let me remain until my death,
Undaunted by defeat.
This, my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet".
xx. A.
Monday, November 1
Just an update.
I have a bunch of little bits and pieces to write about today so don't expect anything fantastic or structured or anything more than just a regular blog. I was going to do a Really Freaking Awesome Stuff™ post yesterday but I only have 3 things in it so far so I'm keeping it in my drafts until I find a few more things I think rule.
Most importantly I guess, I'm doing really well the last week or so. I've been more energetic than I have been the entire one and a half months. I feel more sick (headaches, living in the bathroom etc) but I feel like I've got more of a handle on it than I ever have before. So, that's awesome!
I've started being a little more active, visiting with friends and going into the city when I don't feel like death. People keep saying that I'm pushing it but I think I need to do it or I just might go crazy. Honestly even if it's just for a few hours, having a shower and doing my hair and putting on makeup like a normal person makes me feel a million times better. Fun, incredibly gross fact: when you know people don't expect you to be well presented and wont care if you've washed your hair in a week, you just.. stop doing it. Particularly if you're already feeling depressed. Anyway. That stuff aside!
Ultimately, I made the decision not to do NaNoWriMo. My reasons were many but what it came down to was I've only just started to enjoy writing again -- I didn't want to push myself to need to write 1666 words a day and halfway through the month just give up and never write again. I feel pretty bad cause I encouraged a few people to do NaNoWriMo and now they're going to be doing it by themselves, but I figure I write here fairly often and they can still talk to me with plot-holes or frustrations or anything like that, so it's not really THAT bad.
I've made tentative plans to visit home once my treatment finishes - at the moment it's looking like it'll be from the 17th until the 21st of December but is completely subject for change until the tickets have been purhcased so don't quote me on that or make any plans that can't be altered!
In not-really-important-news or not-news-at-all news, a friend got me Civilization 5 as a get well present and I am so addicted. It's like combining my 3 favorite games -- the Sims, turned based roleplay and WoW -- to become this incredible addictive black hole where I never want to log off and realise it's 4am and I've been playing all night only because the sun has just come up.
I guess that's it for the night, I'll have another Project: Writers [Un]Block up sometime this week, I'm really enjoying reading the things some of you have come up with on your blogs or sent to me through email so definitely keep it up!
xx. A
Most importantly I guess, I'm doing really well the last week or so. I've been more energetic than I have been the entire one and a half months. I feel more sick (headaches, living in the bathroom etc) but I feel like I've got more of a handle on it than I ever have before. So, that's awesome!
I've started being a little more active, visiting with friends and going into the city when I don't feel like death. People keep saying that I'm pushing it but I think I need to do it or I just might go crazy. Honestly even if it's just for a few hours, having a shower and doing my hair and putting on makeup like a normal person makes me feel a million times better. Fun, incredibly gross fact: when you know people don't expect you to be well presented and wont care if you've washed your hair in a week, you just.. stop doing it. Particularly if you're already feeling depressed. Anyway. That stuff aside!
Ultimately, I made the decision not to do NaNoWriMo. My reasons were many but what it came down to was I've only just started to enjoy writing again -- I didn't want to push myself to need to write 1666 words a day and halfway through the month just give up and never write again. I feel pretty bad cause I encouraged a few people to do NaNoWriMo and now they're going to be doing it by themselves, but I figure I write here fairly often and they can still talk to me with plot-holes or frustrations or anything like that, so it's not really THAT bad.
I've made tentative plans to visit home once my treatment finishes - at the moment it's looking like it'll be from the 17th until the 21st of December but is completely subject for change until the tickets have been purhcased so don't quote me on that or make any plans that can't be altered!
In not-really-important-news or not-news-at-all news, a friend got me Civilization 5 as a get well present and I am so addicted. It's like combining my 3 favorite games -- the Sims, turned based roleplay and WoW -- to become this incredible addictive black hole where I never want to log off and realise it's 4am and I've been playing all night only because the sun has just come up.
I guess that's it for the night, I'll have another Project: Writers [Un]Block up sometime this week, I'm really enjoying reading the things some of you have come up with on your blogs or sent to me through email so definitely keep it up!
xx. A
Thursday, October 28
P: W[u]B! - Entry 2.
People always say you should write what you know and so the first few of my P: W[u]B entries will probably be fiction based on real life, and I apologize for that but it's hard enough jumping back into the deep end of writing without doing it wearing platforms and with an iron belt about your waist.
That said, I give you...
Topic #212 - The Human Zoo.
The almost nasal beeping sound as I step onto the bus and swipe my card is what snaps me out of my morningtime haze. It is 6:45am and I've been awake for exactly 17 minutes -- previous to that I'd been asleep for roughly 3 hours, so I'm finding consciousness an effort to say the very least.
As I move down the aisle I eye up my possible seat mates carefully -- this is a choice I will have to live with for the next 35 minutes and is one I have oft regretted by the end of my journey. In the first seat, directly behind the driver is a shrivelled woman with greying hair that is gathered into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She sits huddled forward -- though I cannot tell if this is by choice or nature -- clutching her gigantic purse [which even I, fashionless though I may be, cringe a little to behold (on the inside, mind, making faces at strangers on the bus is something I have LONG since learned not to do)] to her person, fingers digging into the almost carpet-like material as though she fears I might snatch it up at any moment. I dismiss this seat and continue down the aisle.
About 3 seats from the back door there is another free seat, though the person occupying the other half of it is sitting on the aisle side, with his coat next to him. His chin is lifted with self importance and I can see a very fancy looking briefcase between his very fancy looking shoes. I have almost made it down the aisle to him and there is a line of people behind me who need seats too, and yet he does not move. His arms are folded as if to challenge any one of us to ask him to move, and though he is a thin man [probably quite tall, from the way his knees are jammed uncomfortably into the seat in front of him] I feel intimidated by him. If that wasn't enough to make me walk by him and find another seat, he ignorantly turns his head - his gaze now directed out the window. I almost giggle at his pompous ass as I continue down the aisle.
As I have passed the halfway point of the bus, it is now -- apparently -- 'cool' for school kids to sit here and I find that I am climbing over sports bags, tennis rackets and instrument cases, to make my trek more interesting the bus has now pulled away from the stop. It's peak hour traffic so the constant stop-starting means I have to cling to the seats as I make my way through the menagerie of screaming, swearing snot-factories.
Finally I spy a seat to the left, 2 seats from the back. I sidestep over a case that must surely contain a Viola or something of that size before pivoting on one foot and plonking down in the available space. I'm not picky enough to stand for 35 minutes until I get to work and as far as I can tell there are no other free seats from this point onward. I take a moment to arrange my skirt and fix my jacket so it doesn't trail on the ground and it is in that moment that I feel my heart drop to my chest. My nose twitches -- once, and then again -- and suddenly it is upon me. A stench that must surely have climbed from the depths of hell! My throat tightens and I have to make a real effort not to dry wretch. I turn to my right, slowly [for there is fear in my heart] and behold my seat-mate.
Like something out of a horror film she sits, from her muddy gumboot-clad feet to her birdsnest-esque hair, shovelling something brown and chunky into her vast, toothless mouth. I'm not sure if it is her or her meal that reeks of death and hopelessness and everything that is foul and unholy in this world but I turn immediately to face the front of the bus -- as though not seeing her might make the smell slightly less overpowering.
I sit like this, frozen, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands, swallowing hard every few seconds for what feels like years. I look at my phone -- 6:51am.
I exhale, hard, and turn to glance out the window on the other side of the bus. We're about to pull into the last stop before exiting onto the Busway -- from there it's a straight shot into the city. I think I can do this, I think to myself -- and as though to argue with that thought, from beneath me I feel the seat vibrate and hear a slow, drawn out squeak. I turn to the abomination next to me, my jaw dropping uncontrollably -- I grew up in a house with 3 brothers and even I am horrified by what has just happened. I realise my mistake and my mouth closes so quickly and fast that my jaw aches. Even being late to work is not worse that this, I decide in a heart beat and grab my bag from the ground beside me, stumbling clumsily over the mountain of children-crap and not even bothering to buzz my card in my haste.
As I step off the bus I take a long, drawn out breath -- savouring the sweet smell of trees and cars and the suburbs. I swing my bag over my shoulder and move toward the seating area, sighing to myself as I eye up my first possible seatmate...
xx. A
That said, I give you...
Topic #212 - The Human Zoo.
The almost nasal beeping sound as I step onto the bus and swipe my card is what snaps me out of my morningtime haze. It is 6:45am and I've been awake for exactly 17 minutes -- previous to that I'd been asleep for roughly 3 hours, so I'm finding consciousness an effort to say the very least.
As I move down the aisle I eye up my possible seat mates carefully -- this is a choice I will have to live with for the next 35 minutes and is one I have oft regretted by the end of my journey. In the first seat, directly behind the driver is a shrivelled woman with greying hair that is gathered into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She sits huddled forward -- though I cannot tell if this is by choice or nature -- clutching her gigantic purse [which even I, fashionless though I may be, cringe a little to behold (on the inside, mind, making faces at strangers on the bus is something I have LONG since learned not to do)] to her person, fingers digging into the almost carpet-like material as though she fears I might snatch it up at any moment. I dismiss this seat and continue down the aisle.
About 3 seats from the back door there is another free seat, though the person occupying the other half of it is sitting on the aisle side, with his coat next to him. His chin is lifted with self importance and I can see a very fancy looking briefcase between his very fancy looking shoes. I have almost made it down the aisle to him and there is a line of people behind me who need seats too, and yet he does not move. His arms are folded as if to challenge any one of us to ask him to move, and though he is a thin man [probably quite tall, from the way his knees are jammed uncomfortably into the seat in front of him] I feel intimidated by him. If that wasn't enough to make me walk by him and find another seat, he ignorantly turns his head - his gaze now directed out the window. I almost giggle at his pompous ass as I continue down the aisle.
As I have passed the halfway point of the bus, it is now -- apparently -- 'cool' for school kids to sit here and I find that I am climbing over sports bags, tennis rackets and instrument cases, to make my trek more interesting the bus has now pulled away from the stop. It's peak hour traffic so the constant stop-starting means I have to cling to the seats as I make my way through the menagerie of screaming, swearing snot-factories.
Finally I spy a seat to the left, 2 seats from the back. I sidestep over a case that must surely contain a Viola or something of that size before pivoting on one foot and plonking down in the available space. I'm not picky enough to stand for 35 minutes until I get to work and as far as I can tell there are no other free seats from this point onward. I take a moment to arrange my skirt and fix my jacket so it doesn't trail on the ground and it is in that moment that I feel my heart drop to my chest. My nose twitches -- once, and then again -- and suddenly it is upon me. A stench that must surely have climbed from the depths of hell! My throat tightens and I have to make a real effort not to dry wretch. I turn to my right, slowly [for there is fear in my heart] and behold my seat-mate.
Like something out of a horror film she sits, from her muddy gumboot-clad feet to her birdsnest-esque hair, shovelling something brown and chunky into her vast, toothless mouth. I'm not sure if it is her or her meal that reeks of death and hopelessness and everything that is foul and unholy in this world but I turn immediately to face the front of the bus -- as though not seeing her might make the smell slightly less overpowering.
I sit like this, frozen, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands, swallowing hard every few seconds for what feels like years. I look at my phone -- 6:51am.
I exhale, hard, and turn to glance out the window on the other side of the bus. We're about to pull into the last stop before exiting onto the Busway -- from there it's a straight shot into the city. I think I can do this, I think to myself -- and as though to argue with that thought, from beneath me I feel the seat vibrate and hear a slow, drawn out squeak. I turn to the abomination next to me, my jaw dropping uncontrollably -- I grew up in a house with 3 brothers and even I am horrified by what has just happened. I realise my mistake and my mouth closes so quickly and fast that my jaw aches. Even being late to work is not worse that this, I decide in a heart beat and grab my bag from the ground beside me, stumbling clumsily over the mountain of children-crap and not even bothering to buzz my card in my haste.
As I step off the bus I take a long, drawn out breath -- savouring the sweet smell of trees and cars and the suburbs. I swing my bag over my shoulder and move toward the seating area, sighing to myself as I eye up my first possible seatmate...
xx. A
Tuesday, October 26
P: W[u]B! - Entry 1.
Topic #367- Discuss the effect of fear on your life.
I have feared many things.
I have feared the dark, heights, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, men who raise their voices, the ocean [or more specifically not being able to see what's in there], dogs outside of their owners yards and spiders of any shape, size or origin. I have feared being different, flying, being forgotten, falling in love - and in turn - being loved. I have feared growing attached, growing comfortable. I have feared consequences.
I have feared doctors, hospitals, test results. I have feared pain. I have feared death.
Because of fear I have ended relationships, partnerships, friendships.
Because of fear I sleep with a nightlight, or door open.
Because of fear I am reluctant to meet new people, to try new things.
Because of fear I backspace more than I type - it feels - and struggle to express myself.
I have feared many things, but I try not to let it stop me from doing what needs to be done [for very long, anyway...]. Fear is something that can either paralyse, or motivate. Fear is something that needs to be grabbed by the balls and owned, because otherwise it takes control and once that happens it's so much harder to gain the upper hand.
Fear is necessary -- like pain. Fear is there to tell you to be careful because something could go wrong. But again, like pain, fear can trigger an overreaction. Fear is a factor in my life - but a minor one, the same as considering the weather and taking an umbrella before I leave the house if it's cloudy outside.
... for all my ranting about how fear being necessary but needs to be controlled, I'm never ever ever going outside in the dark by myself. Ever. iPhone flashlight application for life!
xx. A.
I have feared many things.
I have feared the dark, heights, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, men who raise their voices, the ocean [or more specifically not being able to see what's in there], dogs outside of their owners yards and spiders of any shape, size or origin. I have feared being different, flying, being forgotten, falling in love - and in turn - being loved. I have feared growing attached, growing comfortable. I have feared consequences.
I have feared doctors, hospitals, test results. I have feared pain. I have feared death.
Because of fear I have ended relationships, partnerships, friendships.
Because of fear I sleep with a nightlight, or door open.
Because of fear I am reluctant to meet new people, to try new things.
Because of fear I backspace more than I type - it feels - and struggle to express myself.
I have feared many things, but I try not to let it stop me from doing what needs to be done [for very long, anyway...]. Fear is something that can either paralyse, or motivate. Fear is something that needs to be grabbed by the balls and owned, because otherwise it takes control and once that happens it's so much harder to gain the upper hand.
Fear is necessary -- like pain. Fear is there to tell you to be careful because something could go wrong. But again, like pain, fear can trigger an overreaction. Fear is a factor in my life - but a minor one, the same as considering the weather and taking an umbrella before I leave the house if it's cloudy outside.
... for all my ranting about how fear being necessary but needs to be controlled, I'm never ever ever going outside in the dark by myself. Ever. iPhone flashlight application for life!
xx. A.
Project: Writers [un]Block!
I'm a book person. I've always been a book person. From the time I was old enough and strong enough to hold it up, I'm told, I've had my nose stuck in one. I live vicariously through the characters in the worlds my favorite authors [really, ANY authors.. I'll read anything] have created and for hours at a time, everything else ceases to exist.
When I was younger, if you'd asked me or anyone who knew me what I wanted to be, I/they would've replied either "a Vet" or "a Writer".. and honestly the Vet thing was a phase that passed as soon as I realised I had to do more than just play with the fuzzy animals and occassionally there'd be blood [eww!] involved. For years I was involved in Roleplay and Writing Clubs, I shunned the outside -- content with the world I and my friends had created from nothing but text and our imagination. I lived and breathed these characters, I knew my favorite characters responses to any question even better than I knew my own, really.
I would stay up, night after night, living on 2-3 hours sleep just so that I could push my creativity a little further. I wrote at school during lunch, I wrote during classes that were not designed for writing [sorry maths class, you suck!], I wrote on the bus on the way home. Half of what I wrote was garbage, but it just came so freely and easily that I could just cut out the bad bits later, if I even bothered to edit something old instead of just writing something completely new.
Somewhere along the way though I got lost. I found "real life" friends, I became interested in parties and video games and TV, I got a job -- and a boyfriend! I stopped living so much in my online bubble, I stopped carrying a notepad with me everywhere. I lost a part of me that I'm not sure will ever completely return. It became harder and harder for me to just sit down and write. There was no "flow". So eventually, I just stopped trying. Other than a few half-hearted blogs here and there, and the occassional spot of poetry I haven't seriously written anything since I left highschool. And that's sad. And wrong. And it's going to change!
A few days ago I received a book I'd ordered called "Everything I know about Writing" - by John Marsden [author of the popular Tomorrow When The War Began series (one of my favorite series of all time, by the way)]. This was a book I'd read in my teens, curled away in the corner of the highschool library somewhere and I'd remembered enjoying it. . so on impulse [I received a gift voucher for there for my birthday] I purchased it!
At the end of the book there's a segment called "600 Writing Topics" and these are sorted into categories such as quickies, discursive, poetry, personal, limits, letters, etc. Basically it's a bunch of one liners and the idea is either to answer the question or to use the line as inspiration. I've decided I'm going to complete the list and I've invited a few friends to try it out with me. And if anyone who reads this is interested in maybe giving it a go feel free to comment with your responses! I'm not sure how often I'm going to do these segments -- there are a few I want to tackle immediately so they might come more frequently in the beginning and then slow down to a once a week thing afterward, or I might really enjoy it and it'll become daily.. I don't know I haven't really ironed out the details.
Anyway, I'm going to make a new post for my first question because this one is already years long. I'm trying to think of a snappy name for it, but my 'working name' for now is "Project Writers [un]Block!" [or PWuB I guess for short] and is extremely subject to change.
I'm excited!
xx. A.
When I was younger, if you'd asked me or anyone who knew me what I wanted to be, I/they would've replied either "a Vet" or "a Writer".. and honestly the Vet thing was a phase that passed as soon as I realised I had to do more than just play with the fuzzy animals and occassionally there'd be blood [eww!] involved. For years I was involved in Roleplay and Writing Clubs, I shunned the outside -- content with the world I and my friends had created from nothing but text and our imagination. I lived and breathed these characters, I knew my favorite characters responses to any question even better than I knew my own, really.
I would stay up, night after night, living on 2-3 hours sleep just so that I could push my creativity a little further. I wrote at school during lunch, I wrote during classes that were not designed for writing [sorry maths class, you suck!], I wrote on the bus on the way home. Half of what I wrote was garbage, but it just came so freely and easily that I could just cut out the bad bits later, if I even bothered to edit something old instead of just writing something completely new.
Somewhere along the way though I got lost. I found "real life" friends, I became interested in parties and video games and TV, I got a job -- and a boyfriend! I stopped living so much in my online bubble, I stopped carrying a notepad with me everywhere. I lost a part of me that I'm not sure will ever completely return. It became harder and harder for me to just sit down and write. There was no "flow". So eventually, I just stopped trying. Other than a few half-hearted blogs here and there, and the occassional spot of poetry I haven't seriously written anything since I left highschool. And that's sad. And wrong. And it's going to change!
A few days ago I received a book I'd ordered called "Everything I know about Writing" - by John Marsden [author of the popular Tomorrow When The War Began series (one of my favorite series of all time, by the way)]. This was a book I'd read in my teens, curled away in the corner of the highschool library somewhere and I'd remembered enjoying it. . so on impulse [I received a gift voucher for there for my birthday] I purchased it!
At the end of the book there's a segment called "600 Writing Topics" and these are sorted into categories such as quickies, discursive, poetry, personal, limits, letters, etc. Basically it's a bunch of one liners and the idea is either to answer the question or to use the line as inspiration. I've decided I'm going to complete the list and I've invited a few friends to try it out with me. And if anyone who reads this is interested in maybe giving it a go feel free to comment with your responses! I'm not sure how often I'm going to do these segments -- there are a few I want to tackle immediately so they might come more frequently in the beginning and then slow down to a once a week thing afterward, or I might really enjoy it and it'll become daily.. I don't know I haven't really ironed out the details.
Anyway, I'm going to make a new post for my first question because this one is already years long. I'm trying to think of a snappy name for it, but my 'working name' for now is "Project Writers [un]Block!" [or PWuB I guess for short] and is extremely subject to change.
I'm excited!
xx. A.
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