When I'm feeling down, something I think about is a bookshop. It isn't any sort of bookshop. It's my bookshop. If I were to own any sort of store, it would be this bookshop.
It would be on a small street, probably in a city. But it would be a city with character, and charm. Even if the air I breathed were to smell acrid and unhealthy, in that street, the smell would be cleaner. The bookshop would be historic; ancient, in some eyes. It would have a peculiar Victorian feel to it, and an almost pinkish colour. It would be three storeys, rectangular and really quite skinny. You'd have to walk up a few steps towards the doorway. When you'd look around you'd notice nothing in particular, nothing too special about this little bookshop. You may notice the brick, and slowly decaying look to it. You may notice the intricacies in the archways around the windows. The windows would be large and deceiving, hiding away the true nature of the bookstore. It would be plotting, plodding, toying with your ideas.
You'd shrug nonchalantly, and touch the door knob. The door would be understated yet grand. The carvings, with detail. You'd see frost on the glass and feel your fingers numbing, and remember just how cold it was, and shuffle inside quickly. Not bothering to see what the bookshop looks like until you close the door, you step around and gape. It's lured you in. Surprised, enticed, delighted you. The warmth tingles on your skin and in your peripheral vision, you see a small fire going.
The bookshop is now another world. The air is stuffy, warm, comforting. You look around, and not a soul is in site. You delve head first into the books. The books. They encircle you, entangle you, trap you in their embrace, just like they did the building. The books - they're everywhere. All you see is books. Piled up timidly, from the bottom to the top on the room. Old, new, used, coloured, bright, dull, hardcover, paperback. The options are endless. And you'd just twirl again and again and again, taking in the colours and insurmountable amount of books and not know where to go first.
You decide to explore a little. You feel like a child again, on a new adventure not knowing where you'll end up. You tip toe delicately across the room towards where the fire was. As you do, you watch the books open up into a larger area. The fire is going. It's delirious, magnificent, glamorous. There are two large, plush couches dancing around it, coaxing you into comfort. Before you do, you realise a girl's there. Only quite young. Her hair dangles down her back and dances with the fire as if they were brother and sister. Her head is down; she's reading. On she goes in silence, just reading on that windowsill. You're enchanted by her. The complete oblivion to everything around her. Her head dips up, and she stares out onto the street. It's dark out there. Twilight has just set, and the old style street lights have burnt up. She sighs, and you leave her.
As you walk back towards the large books, you hear a small crash above your head. That's odd. Your eyes slide over the surroundings, and you notice a swirly staircase peaking through. Impulsively, you go up. What should you expect? Not surprisingly, there are more books there. They're more diluted in the fabric of this atmosphere. Spindly tables and chairs cover the ground, with a small coffee station spurting stains everywhere. Books are precariously placed near the balcony that you now notice. It overlooks the whole store. You hear another bang, louder this time. Spinning to the persecutor, you see someone trying to clean up another coffee stain. She looks at it with sparkles in her eyes, amused at her own misfortune. As her head turns upwards, she notices you and squeals a little. Sorry, she says, I thought that we had closed up. She looks down over the balcony, like a vulture waiting to attack. Juliet, she squeals, Juliet close up already.
She looks at me and continues cleaning. How strange. I hear a tingle enveloping the store. It's closed now, Juliet sings back sweetly. I watch, and she sits herself back in the windowsill. You can still look around if you want, the lady says to me, I'm just cleaning up. You nod, dazed. You walk slowly down the staircase, becoming dizzy after walking in circles. You go through each of the books, carefully, slowly.
Time has passed. How much? You don't know. Footsteps on the metal staircase rattle you out of the reverie. Sorry, she says, do you want any tea? You nod, vacantly. The lady nods, and you follow her. Up, up, up the steps you go. You watch her as she walks towards a bookcase - one of the only ones in the store. She manoeuvres some books around and opens a latch. A hallway entreats. Do you mind if it's in my apartment? She asks, It's just, well I've packed everything else up for the day. I nod, and look.
p.s. This sort of turned creative-y by the end, so sorry about that. The descriptions are basically true to what I'd love a bookshop to look like.
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Monday, 19 December 2011
Sunday, 11 December 2011
Sometimes.
Sometimes I wonder if this life, this one I've created for myself is all a dream. Sometimes I wonder if one day I'll wake up, truly wake up and realise that I'm back in a small apartment with my cousins eating Go-Gurt's (on holiday) and understand that this thing was all some extravagant ploy or distraction my mind created for me, and I'm actually still only seven years old. I'm still innocent, naive, unaware of the atrocities of life.
Sometimes I wonder if what I really want to do with my life - write, will work out. Whether it will be some fun thing that I'm really, really good at and love so much that I wouldn't even consider it a job, or whether I'll just be rejected again, and again, and again. Whether it will be something that I'll be recognised for. Something that'll be for me.
Sometimes I wonder if all this worrying that I do, over my grades and my work, and my life is worth it. Will it be useless in the future, and have only given me too many wrinkles, or will it be valued? Will the stressing and panic attacks be for the right reasons?
Sometimes I wonder if my shyness is hindering me in accessing my full potential. Sometimes I wonder if I need to find a way that makes me more loud and boisterous, more confident.
Sometimes I wonder if all this luxury I get is fair. Sometimes I wonder why not many people take their education for granted anymore. Sometimes I wonder if people really truly know how lucky they are, how lucky they are to be given opportunities.
Sometimes I wonder if this life, this one I've created for myself is all a dream. If, when I wake up, I'm in a completely different place. I'm poverty-stricken, unwell, in a bad place, and this is my escape. My alternative universe. My utopia.
Sometimes I forget that this life that I have, that I constantly complain about, is actually really, really good. That I have friends who understand my introversion, that I have some of the greatest teachers at my school, that I have a family that's whole and well (even if they're dysfunctional), and that I have a workplace that I cherish.
Just sometimes.
Sometimes I wonder if what I really want to do with my life - write, will work out. Whether it will be some fun thing that I'm really, really good at and love so much that I wouldn't even consider it a job, or whether I'll just be rejected again, and again, and again. Whether it will be something that I'll be recognised for. Something that'll be for me.
Sometimes I wonder if all this worrying that I do, over my grades and my work, and my life is worth it. Will it be useless in the future, and have only given me too many wrinkles, or will it be valued? Will the stressing and panic attacks be for the right reasons?
Sometimes I wonder if my shyness is hindering me in accessing my full potential. Sometimes I wonder if I need to find a way that makes me more loud and boisterous, more confident.
Sometimes I wonder if all this luxury I get is fair. Sometimes I wonder why not many people take their education for granted anymore. Sometimes I wonder if people really truly know how lucky they are, how lucky they are to be given opportunities.
Sometimes I wonder if this life, this one I've created for myself is all a dream. If, when I wake up, I'm in a completely different place. I'm poverty-stricken, unwell, in a bad place, and this is my escape. My alternative universe. My utopia.
Sometimes I forget that this life that I have, that I constantly complain about, is actually really, really good. That I have friends who understand my introversion, that I have some of the greatest teachers at my school, that I have a family that's whole and well (even if they're dysfunctional), and that I have a workplace that I cherish.
Just sometimes.
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Home is where the Memories are.
The smell of coffee, the feeling of fragmented wind blowing through the window, the colours, the laughter echoing off walls, the Coronation Street* theme music, teacups that are littered all around the house, the books that are literally scattered everywhere you look, the obnoxious laughing and talking and yelling from the other side of the fence.
That's what home feels like to me. What people say home is, is different to everybody. It's subjective. There's that famous saying that 'home is where the heart is'. And in many respects, that's true. But truly, I believe that home is where the memories are. And whom and what you love is very closely intertwined with what you remember. I say this because twenty years into the future, you may not necessarily remember who it is you loved, nor why you loved them, but you know you had happy times with them, and you remember everything that happened as if it only happened a mere day before.
I guess what I'm really trying to say is that home isn't necessarily where you live, and isn't necessarily where your heart is or where the people you love are. It's where your memories are happiest, and in turn where you feel you are most accepted. Yes, that may make you associate home with people, but it'll also make you associate home with objects like coffee strainers, or books, or pieces of music.
Home is like a safe place, a place where you can truly be yourself. A place where you can complain to the wind, where you can yell at the TV when a character on a TV show is doing wrong by you. It's a feeling of completeness that home makes you feel. That's why it's so important to have one, otherwise emptiness will invade your mind, and you'll feel lost. You'll feel out of it, perhaps lose your grip on reality. Home is important.
Jocie.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 3,162 (this is probably why I'd fail NaNoWriMo)
*Coronation Street is an English soap opera that the mother is obsessed with
That's what home feels like to me. What people say home is, is different to everybody. It's subjective. There's that famous saying that 'home is where the heart is'. And in many respects, that's true. But truly, I believe that home is where the memories are. And whom and what you love is very closely intertwined with what you remember. I say this because twenty years into the future, you may not necessarily remember who it is you loved, nor why you loved them, but you know you had happy times with them, and you remember everything that happened as if it only happened a mere day before.
I guess what I'm really trying to say is that home isn't necessarily where you live, and isn't necessarily where your heart is or where the people you love are. It's where your memories are happiest, and in turn where you feel you are most accepted. Yes, that may make you associate home with people, but it'll also make you associate home with objects like coffee strainers, or books, or pieces of music.
Home is like a safe place, a place where you can truly be yourself. A place where you can complain to the wind, where you can yell at the TV when a character on a TV show is doing wrong by you. It's a feeling of completeness that home makes you feel. That's why it's so important to have one, otherwise emptiness will invade your mind, and you'll feel lost. You'll feel out of it, perhaps lose your grip on reality. Home is important.
Jocie.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 3,162 (this is probably why I'd fail NaNoWriMo)
*Coronation Street is an English soap opera that the mother is obsessed with
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Fear.
My mum recently walked into her bathroom to find a frog sitting there, waiting, as if he indeed was the Godfather himself. My mum, well let's just say I heard a screeching noise (not at all humane), with something between a whimper and a laugh escaping from her lips. She ran around in circles, calling for my brother (he's the Ghostbuster of insects and amphibians in our family). But that gets me onto this weeks topic.
Fear.
Fear defines us in uncertain ways. It makes us neurotic, and it makes us interesting. As a neurotic person, I have countless fears that trail behind me as I walk my way through life. I take this down to being a perfectionist, but perhaps I'm just a very wimpy person. My fears are long, and ever expanding, and here are just a few:
Clowns, deep water, heights, roller coasters, horror movies, crowds, loud noises, death or death of a loved one, failing at school, fire, cancer, the dark, 2012, something slimy and amphibious swimming in the toilet bowl, evil ghosts, the unknown.
It comes down to this. There are different sorts of fears. There are fears that enchant you, like fire. The way the flames dance and twirl as if they were in a never-ending ball is glorious, yet the fact that, that same dancing can become so deadly in a matter of seconds, mystifies me.
The second sort of fear is a fear that you love, yet hate. Like the dark. While I hate the dark, there's always a magical quality in the air, like anything is possible. But it's also vicious, and scary, and that anything that's possible could be a bad thing.
The third sort of fear, is something that's completely justifiable. In my case, cancer. My family has had the unfortunate chance that they have acquired quite a few bad genes in their time. My grandfather died from bowel cancer, my grandmother had breast cancer, my aunty had early stages of breast cancer, my mum had a melanoma. We aren't the most healthy lot out there. It terrifies me that there's a good chance that in my lifetime, I may get some sort of cancer.
The fourth sort of fear is something that's completely unjustifiable. Like clowns. They're creepy, ok? It's like they're desperately trying to mask the sadness behind their make-up. And deep water too. I live in Australia. Sharks and crocodiles roam the currents here.
The fifth, and final sort of fear is the irrational fear. 2012, mainly. Even though it won't happen, sometimes when you just sit down and think, a nagging sensation of doubt bubbles up from your gut, and you start thinking what if?
And that's what fears should do. They should make you think what if? What if the dark became real and was magic, but was also a serial killer? What if clowns really were evil, and used their masks as a source of soul sucking, or happiness sucking? What if?
And I guess that's it. Despite the fact that we let our fears define us, once we get over them, nothing has really changed. You might expect to feel some sort of bubble burst, a thrill, a giant dose of fresh air entering your lungs. Yet, it isn't the case. Why is that? It may be because we change so subtly that not even ourselves - the person who knows us best, notices it. Or, it could be because we've adapted to live and thrive with our fears. And indeed, now that you're over it, you may just feel a little empty.
There's generally always a logical reasoning behind a fear, yet it shouldn't mean we should get rid of it. Fears, like a personality, changes, so perhaps you should enjoy that fear you have now, as it may be completely different in five years. Mind you, there isn't a particular way for one to enjoy a fear. Perhaps just appreciate it. Understand what it says about you. Become a friend to it.
Next week lovelies,
Jocie
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: The Daughter of Smoke and Bones by Laini Taylor
WORDS: 0 - school has overtaken my life
QUOTE: "Fear had its uses, but cowardice has none" - Mohandas Ghandi
something was going to go here, but I can't remember what.
Fear.
Fear defines us in uncertain ways. It makes us neurotic, and it makes us interesting. As a neurotic person, I have countless fears that trail behind me as I walk my way through life. I take this down to being a perfectionist, but perhaps I'm just a very wimpy person. My fears are long, and ever expanding, and here are just a few:
Clowns, deep water, heights, roller coasters, horror movies, crowds, loud noises, death or death of a loved one, failing at school, fire, cancer, the dark, 2012, something slimy and amphibious swimming in the toilet bowl, evil ghosts, the unknown.
It comes down to this. There are different sorts of fears. There are fears that enchant you, like fire. The way the flames dance and twirl as if they were in a never-ending ball is glorious, yet the fact that, that same dancing can become so deadly in a matter of seconds, mystifies me.
The second sort of fear is a fear that you love, yet hate. Like the dark. While I hate the dark, there's always a magical quality in the air, like anything is possible. But it's also vicious, and scary, and that anything that's possible could be a bad thing.
The third sort of fear, is something that's completely justifiable. In my case, cancer. My family has had the unfortunate chance that they have acquired quite a few bad genes in their time. My grandfather died from bowel cancer, my grandmother had breast cancer, my aunty had early stages of breast cancer, my mum had a melanoma. We aren't the most healthy lot out there. It terrifies me that there's a good chance that in my lifetime, I may get some sort of cancer.
The fourth sort of fear is something that's completely unjustifiable. Like clowns. They're creepy, ok? It's like they're desperately trying to mask the sadness behind their make-up. And deep water too. I live in Australia. Sharks and crocodiles roam the currents here.
The fifth, and final sort of fear is the irrational fear. 2012, mainly. Even though it won't happen, sometimes when you just sit down and think, a nagging sensation of doubt bubbles up from your gut, and you start thinking what if?
And that's what fears should do. They should make you think what if? What if the dark became real and was magic, but was also a serial killer? What if clowns really were evil, and used their masks as a source of soul sucking, or happiness sucking? What if?
And I guess that's it. Despite the fact that we let our fears define us, once we get over them, nothing has really changed. You might expect to feel some sort of bubble burst, a thrill, a giant dose of fresh air entering your lungs. Yet, it isn't the case. Why is that? It may be because we change so subtly that not even ourselves - the person who knows us best, notices it. Or, it could be because we've adapted to live and thrive with our fears. And indeed, now that you're over it, you may just feel a little empty.
There's generally always a logical reasoning behind a fear, yet it shouldn't mean we should get rid of it. Fears, like a personality, changes, so perhaps you should enjoy that fear you have now, as it may be completely different in five years. Mind you, there isn't a particular way for one to enjoy a fear. Perhaps just appreciate it. Understand what it says about you. Become a friend to it.
Next week lovelies,
Jocie
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: The Daughter of Smoke and Bones by Laini Taylor
WORDS: 0 - school has overtaken my life
QUOTE: "Fear had its uses, but cowardice has none" - Mohandas Ghandi
something was going to go here, but I can't remember what.
Sunday, 6 November 2011
What is Love?
Earlier this week, my brother asked me what he should do about a girl thinking he liked her. I was momentarily thrilled that he confided in me (he never, ever does that), but then I realised 'Who am I kidding? What do I know about love, or romance, or relationships?'
The most I know are from books, and movies. That's all fiction, so I can't really say I'm some sort of expert either (even though I do read/watch a lot of movies). This question my brother asked got me completely baffled.
What is love supposed to feel like? I mean, sure, people say it's when you get butterflies in your tummy, whenever you're around them. And sure, it's when you smile whenever you think of them. And hey, it's also whenever you kiss them, you feel fireworks, and sparks of energy bouncing around the room. But really, what is it like?
Is it one of those things that are subjective, like beauty? Or is it truly the same for everyone?
Sometimes, I think people feel this pressure to find love and to grasp onto it and never, ever let it go. There are so many pictures, and quotes, exclaiming in detail what love is like, and how it's brilliant, and utterly fantastic, and amazing, but how it's also hard, and difficult, and full of untimely heartbreak. Society likes to obsess over what love feels like, so if you feel something as tiny as your heart racing, it immediately whispers love in your ear.
And, admittedly, it is a big deal for us teenagers. Most of my friends have a secret desire to find love at school, and live happily ever after with their sweetheart. I would be lying if I said that wouldn't be ideal. Yet, perhaps I'm one of the few cynical romantics. Perhaps, having heartbreak would be good, be nice. Life is very much a roller coaster, and having heartbreak after a true romance, seems like something that will only make a person stronger. Obviously it isn't meant to be. I honestly believe that there is someone out there for everybody. There's seven billion bloody people in the world, there has got to be someone.
That's not to say that you should search for love, or even try to prevent it. I've only ever had one relationship, and I wouldn't even call it that. It lasted two days, and we barely talked to each other. We never had an actual date, and the most we did was hold hands. And yet, despite this, I still felt hurt. I felt like he had betrayed me. I wanted to cry. I don't know whether this changed me, but I have learnt that I shouldn't let myself get wrapped up in something trivial. The sad thing is, is that I didn't even really like the guy. But it taught me that perhaps the next time someone asks me out, I should say yes, but only if I like him as more than a friend.
The thrill of someone asking you out, the dread when you realise you may have to say no. The timid smile, and the adrenaline rushing through your veins. It's big feelings for teenagers, so of course it's going to affect us. When you're a teenager, you're going through a vulnerable time. Your morals and principles are changing. Your world is being opened up, and you realise just how tiny you are.
I've never been in love, and chances are I won't be for a while. Let's be honest here, why would anyone want to date me? Anyway, I just felt like a blog post was necessary for some odd reason.
Till next time guys,
Jocie
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Angel Arias by Marianne de Pierres
WORDS: 0
QUOTE: "Hey Jocie. Look at my hair. I'm a sunflower" - The brother.
Also, guys, I found this kind of awesome site, so if you want, go check it out: http://iwl.me/
The most I know are from books, and movies. That's all fiction, so I can't really say I'm some sort of expert either (even though I do read/watch a lot of movies). This question my brother asked got me completely baffled.
What is love supposed to feel like? I mean, sure, people say it's when you get butterflies in your tummy, whenever you're around them. And sure, it's when you smile whenever you think of them. And hey, it's also whenever you kiss them, you feel fireworks, and sparks of energy bouncing around the room. But really, what is it like?
Is it one of those things that are subjective, like beauty? Or is it truly the same for everyone?
Sometimes, I think people feel this pressure to find love and to grasp onto it and never, ever let it go. There are so many pictures, and quotes, exclaiming in detail what love is like, and how it's brilliant, and utterly fantastic, and amazing, but how it's also hard, and difficult, and full of untimely heartbreak. Society likes to obsess over what love feels like, so if you feel something as tiny as your heart racing, it immediately whispers love in your ear.
And, admittedly, it is a big deal for us teenagers. Most of my friends have a secret desire to find love at school, and live happily ever after with their sweetheart. I would be lying if I said that wouldn't be ideal. Yet, perhaps I'm one of the few cynical romantics. Perhaps, having heartbreak would be good, be nice. Life is very much a roller coaster, and having heartbreak after a true romance, seems like something that will only make a person stronger. Obviously it isn't meant to be. I honestly believe that there is someone out there for everybody. There's seven billion bloody people in the world, there has got to be someone.
That's not to say that you should search for love, or even try to prevent it. I've only ever had one relationship, and I wouldn't even call it that. It lasted two days, and we barely talked to each other. We never had an actual date, and the most we did was hold hands. And yet, despite this, I still felt hurt. I felt like he had betrayed me. I wanted to cry. I don't know whether this changed me, but I have learnt that I shouldn't let myself get wrapped up in something trivial. The sad thing is, is that I didn't even really like the guy. But it taught me that perhaps the next time someone asks me out, I should say yes, but only if I like him as more than a friend.
The thrill of someone asking you out, the dread when you realise you may have to say no. The timid smile, and the adrenaline rushing through your veins. It's big feelings for teenagers, so of course it's going to affect us. When you're a teenager, you're going through a vulnerable time. Your morals and principles are changing. Your world is being opened up, and you realise just how tiny you are.
I've never been in love, and chances are I won't be for a while. Let's be honest here, why would anyone want to date me? Anyway, I just felt like a blog post was necessary for some odd reason.
Till next time guys,
Jocie
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Angel Arias by Marianne de Pierres
WORDS: 0
QUOTE: "Hey Jocie. Look at my hair. I'm a sunflower" - The brother.
Also, guys, I found this kind of awesome site, so if you want, go check it out: http://iwl.me/
Sunday, 23 October 2011
Excitement.
You know when you're really excited about something? Like, so excited that you just keep repeatedly going back to it to make sure it's real? Yea? Well, that's been my life these past few days. Now, I realise not all of you readers watch my videos (whether that be on my own channel, or on the collab), so I feel like I need to update you on something majorly awesome that happened this past week. I got a reviewer's position on this site here. (clickity click click, click me!).
I honestly never thought I'd get it, and I was (read: still am) completely surprised. I didn't tell anyone that I even applied for the position. I was too nervous, and the thought of telling people I applied, and then the disappointment that would protrude their faces when I didn't get it wasn't something I could deal with (you should probably know that I applied during a busy time of the school year, so my writing = probably not the best). I didn't even tell my mum, I was that nervous. I generally tell my mum everything, especially things about books, publishing, writing, and education (and those sorts of things) because that's just our thing. So the fact that I didn't tell her about it was a pretty big deal.
So anyway, I applied. We emailed back and forth a few times, and then there was dead silence for a couple of months. That made me nervous. I think that'd make anyone nervous. Of course, I started doing what any internet-teenager does; I creeped, and bit my nails nervously. I eventually sort of pushed it to the back of my mind, because exams and assessment came up, so I really needed to focus on that (read: my mum would kill me if I failed anything). Once exams were done, I just looked on the twitter every once and a while, etc. etc.
Then earlier this week, on Thursday morning, I got a wonderful surprise. I seriously couldn't contain myself. I'm one of those people, who, when excited grins like a psychopath. The jumping and clapping hands, comes a little later. They offered me a position.
Now, if you remember lovely reader, I hadn't told my mum about the position yet. The hard part had come. I had to tell her. I feel like I should tell you up front, that my mum doesn't like surprises, and generally when I bring something up that I never told her about, she gets annoyed and glares and scowls, and does what every mother does. So, what do I do? I walk into her room, try and calm myself and say to her, "So, a couple months back, I sorta applied for a book reviewing position, and I sorta just got an email offering me the position" (in the real life version, of course, their was a lot more stammering, and it wasn't nearly quite so coherent).
My mum, a woman who hates surprises, is indeed full of surprises herself. She didn't yell, or give me a lecture, or do something any parent who was concerned for their child would do. She smiled and said, "Really? Honey, that's so great."
And she hugged me. She read everything over, and now she's just as excited as me. She spent the whole day telling fellow teachers.
It's insane. So, I'm here now telling you, partly because I don't really want to look at my geography, and biology, and modern history, and maths homework, and partly because I'm anxiously refreshing my email every ten seconds, waiting for a response from Christina (who is one of the YA reviewers). The creeping is beginning again. It's a little concerning.
Anywho, I thought you'd like to know, because you guys are the best. I should go now and do my homework properly. If any of you know anything about rates of change, call me up.
READING: Angel Arias, and Artemis Fowl
WORDS: 6,173
QUOTE: "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all" - Emily Dickinson
I honestly never thought I'd get it, and I was (read: still am) completely surprised. I didn't tell anyone that I even applied for the position. I was too nervous, and the thought of telling people I applied, and then the disappointment that would protrude their faces when I didn't get it wasn't something I could deal with (you should probably know that I applied during a busy time of the school year, so my writing = probably not the best). I didn't even tell my mum, I was that nervous. I generally tell my mum everything, especially things about books, publishing, writing, and education (and those sorts of things) because that's just our thing. So the fact that I didn't tell her about it was a pretty big deal.
So anyway, I applied. We emailed back and forth a few times, and then there was dead silence for a couple of months. That made me nervous. I think that'd make anyone nervous. Of course, I started doing what any internet-teenager does; I creeped, and bit my nails nervously. I eventually sort of pushed it to the back of my mind, because exams and assessment came up, so I really needed to focus on that (read: my mum would kill me if I failed anything). Once exams were done, I just looked on the twitter every once and a while, etc. etc.
Then earlier this week, on Thursday morning, I got a wonderful surprise. I seriously couldn't contain myself. I'm one of those people, who, when excited grins like a psychopath. The jumping and clapping hands, comes a little later. They offered me a position.
Now, if you remember lovely reader, I hadn't told my mum about the position yet. The hard part had come. I had to tell her. I feel like I should tell you up front, that my mum doesn't like surprises, and generally when I bring something up that I never told her about, she gets annoyed and glares and scowls, and does what every mother does. So, what do I do? I walk into her room, try and calm myself and say to her, "So, a couple months back, I sorta applied for a book reviewing position, and I sorta just got an email offering me the position" (in the real life version, of course, their was a lot more stammering, and it wasn't nearly quite so coherent).
My mum, a woman who hates surprises, is indeed full of surprises herself. She didn't yell, or give me a lecture, or do something any parent who was concerned for their child would do. She smiled and said, "Really? Honey, that's so great."
And she hugged me. She read everything over, and now she's just as excited as me. She spent the whole day telling fellow teachers.
It's insane. So, I'm here now telling you, partly because I don't really want to look at my geography, and biology, and modern history, and maths homework, and partly because I'm anxiously refreshing my email every ten seconds, waiting for a response from Christina (who is one of the YA reviewers). The creeping is beginning again. It's a little concerning.
Anywho, I thought you'd like to know, because you guys are the best. I should go now and do my homework properly. If any of you know anything about rates of change, call me up.
READING: Angel Arias, and Artemis Fowl
WORDS: 6,173
QUOTE: "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all" - Emily Dickinson
Saturday, 15 October 2011
BOOOOOOOK HAULLLLLL
Zee books mentioned:
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie - Muriel Spark
Dracula - Bram Stoker
War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Dark Desires Box Set (Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan,
Tithe by Holly Black, Dark Secrets by Elizabeth Chandler, Generation Dead by
Daniel Waters, and The Poison Garden by Sarah Singleton)
Heroes of Olympus: Son of Neptune - Rick Riordan
Ultraviolet - R.J. Anderson
Soulless - Gail Carriger
Devil's Kiss - Sarwat Chadda
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime - Mark
Haddon
Angel Arias - Marianne de Pierres
Anna and the French Kiss - Stephanie Perkins
Lola and the Boy Next Door - Stephanie Perkins
The Name of the Star - Maureen Johnson
Unearthly - Cynthia Hand
0.4 - Mike Lancaster
Atonement - Ian McEwan
Finnikan of the Rock - Melina Marchetta
The Cardturner - Louis Sachar
Alaska - Sue Saliba
Daughter of Smoke and Bone - Laini Taylor
Glow - Amy Kathleen Ryan
Supernaturally - Kierstin White
Imaginary Girls - Nova Ren Suma
Burn Bright Petition -
http://www.strangemore.com/2011/07/interview-and-campaign-for-burn-bright.html?m=0
Also, by 'last year' I really meant 'earlier this year'
Monday, 26 September 2011
Beauty Talk
What do you see when you look in the mirror? I was going through momentary nostalgia about five seconds ago, and decided to look at past posts of mine. There was this one post called 'I Won an Award! (?)', (I'm not going to link it, because frankly, I find my writing a little appalling, as I typically do) and one of the questions was something along the lines of 'What do you see when you look in the mirror?'. I answered that there was no obligatory or straightforward way for me to answer the question. Looking back on it, my opinion on that question hasn't really changed that much.
Why? Because there are so many different thought processes that run through my mind when I look at myself, whether it be, 'OMG, a pimple! EWWWWWWW!', or 'Wow, I really need to sleep in more often'. Admittedly, whenever I look into a mirror, my first thoughts are purely physical thoughts. It's usually something about my insecurities, a la hating my eye colour (and by that, I mean, wishing the green in my eyes would be more pronounced), wishing my hair was curlier, or something like subconsciously hoping my teeth will become magically whiter (it used to be, 'wow, I wish my teeth were straighter' when I didn't have my braces/while I had my braces on, but now that they're straight, it's the colour). Lordy, I'm such a perfectionist.
I think the biggest problem with today's media and fashion industry, and such, is that they act as if there's a particular brand of beauty. There's this quote that I always remember, which pretty much everybody's heard:
But because of the media* that teenagers are exposed to (particularly girls), people think they have to have big eyes, or be stick thin. And frankly, because of this, I worry a little about humanity. We strive both on being individual, but our natural instinct is to follow the crowd. This, of course, affects peoples self-esteem. What they believe is 'beautiful' will ultimately affect how people act, and what they aim to do with their lives.
Yes, obviously everybody has problems with their appearance, I'm not one to deny that. I am someone who has issues with what I look like. It just bothers me that media can control people's opinions so easily, when frankly, anybody and everybody is beautiful. Because everybody is somebody else's brand of that (being beautiful, I mean).
But back to the point. After looking at myself for what I am, I start thinking about what people think of me. Do they like my hair? Do they think I'm nice, funny? Do they think I'm pretty? Then, being the frustrating person I am, I go on to imagine situations with people who talk about me when I'm not around.
Ok, so yes, maybe I care a little about what people think about me. I think it's pretty easy for me to say that I'm not alone, though. Is it such a bad thing to want people to like me? Especially in today's society where movies highlight bitchy behaviour, and act as if it's alright or use it as a form of comedy. People use this as an excuse, and people who never thought about their actions before are now more weary than ever. It isn't fair, really.
There wasn't any point for this blog. I just felt like I needed to get it out. There's probably going to be some video accompanying this eventually, in case I feel like I wasn't very eloquent in this blog (forever the perfectionist). Feel free to comment below on your opinion on the media, and whatnot. If this blog doesn't make any sense whatsoever, also please tell me below. I'd appreciate it (it means I can rule the YouTube and make it into a video! HUZZAH!). Ok, I'm off now.
Tootaloo,
Jocie xoxox.
*(which I have a serious dislike for, so let's not get into journalism)
** I think we can all say I got you with the title, right? You all thought I was gonna talk about MAKE-UP didn't you? Guys, I know little to nothing about make-up. There's no way I'll ever talk about it.
------
NOW READING: Radiant Shadows by Melissa Marr
WRITING THIS MONTH: 5,496 (but sorta more, cos I'm sortaprocrastinating writing right now)
QUOTE: "Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye" - Shakespeare's version of the 'eye of the beholder' quote.
Why? Because there are so many different thought processes that run through my mind when I look at myself, whether it be, 'OMG, a pimple! EWWWWWWW!', or 'Wow, I really need to sleep in more often'. Admittedly, whenever I look into a mirror, my first thoughts are purely physical thoughts. It's usually something about my insecurities, a la hating my eye colour (and by that, I mean, wishing the green in my eyes would be more pronounced), wishing my hair was curlier, or something like subconsciously hoping my teeth will become magically whiter (it used to be, 'wow, I wish my teeth were straighter' when I didn't have my braces/while I had my braces on, but now that they're straight, it's the colour). Lordy, I'm such a perfectionist.
I think the biggest problem with today's media and fashion industry, and such, is that they act as if there's a particular brand of beauty. There's this quote that I always remember, which pretty much everybody's heard:
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" (it was something like that)I can't remember who said it, or anything like that, but in so many ways, that quote speaks plain truth. Beauty is such a temperamental ideology. Everybody's idea as to what's beautiful is different. You can ask one person, and they'll be like, "To me beauty is a blue eyed blonde", or "Personality is beauty to me", or whatever. But that's just it. Everybody is different.
But because of the media* that teenagers are exposed to (particularly girls), people think they have to have big eyes, or be stick thin. And frankly, because of this, I worry a little about humanity. We strive both on being individual, but our natural instinct is to follow the crowd. This, of course, affects peoples self-esteem. What they believe is 'beautiful' will ultimately affect how people act, and what they aim to do with their lives.
Yes, obviously everybody has problems with their appearance, I'm not one to deny that. I am someone who has issues with what I look like. It just bothers me that media can control people's opinions so easily, when frankly, anybody and everybody is beautiful. Because everybody is somebody else's brand of that (being beautiful, I mean).
But back to the point. After looking at myself for what I am, I start thinking about what people think of me. Do they like my hair? Do they think I'm nice, funny? Do they think I'm pretty? Then, being the frustrating person I am, I go on to imagine situations with people who talk about me when I'm not around.
Ok, so yes, maybe I care a little about what people think about me. I think it's pretty easy for me to say that I'm not alone, though. Is it such a bad thing to want people to like me? Especially in today's society where movies highlight bitchy behaviour, and act as if it's alright or use it as a form of comedy. People use this as an excuse, and people who never thought about their actions before are now more weary than ever. It isn't fair, really.
There wasn't any point for this blog. I just felt like I needed to get it out. There's probably going to be some video accompanying this eventually, in case I feel like I wasn't very eloquent in this blog (forever the perfectionist). Feel free to comment below on your opinion on the media, and whatnot. If this blog doesn't make any sense whatsoever, also please tell me below. I'd appreciate it (it means I can rule the YouTube and make it into a video! HUZZAH!). Ok, I'm off now.
Tootaloo,
Jocie xoxox.
*(which I have a serious dislike for, so let's not get into journalism)
** I think we can all say I got you with the title, right? You all thought I was gonna talk about MAKE-UP didn't you? Guys, I know little to nothing about make-up. There's no way I'll ever talk about it.
------
NOW READING: Radiant Shadows by Melissa Marr
WRITING THIS MONTH: 5,496 (but sorta more, cos I'm sorta
QUOTE: "Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye" - Shakespeare's version of the 'eye of the beholder' quote.
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Cleaning le Room.
I just spent my whole morning cleaning my room, and singing along to the Easy Virtue soundtrack (it's a good soundtrack ok? If you want to transport to the 30's, then this album is for you). I honestly don't think I've ever seen the mother as happy as she was the moment she realised I was actually cleaning my room. Lest to say, I never clean le room.
Every now and then, I get urges to clean. So that I do. Usually, it's in the middle of the night. You think I'm kidding, but I can get my mum to vouch that I clean my room in the middle of the night. That's literally the only time I usually ever feel like cleaning. Imagine my surprise then, when my hands began to move on their own accord, and began to clean the chest of drawers, then my desk, then the rest of the room. It was quite the shock, I must say.
Anywho, I am now well into my first week of September holidays, which is really quite exciting. Thus far, I have done... Nothing. For some odd (and in hindsight, terribly stupid) reason, I decided to go into school on the last day of term. I blame the inner-nerd that wanted to find out my marks from the exams. But, it was really quite boring. I didn't do anything. I found out the school captains, which was a little exciting. It then went on to make me feel a mixture of sadness and feeling quite elderly.
There was going to be some point in this blog, but while eating these yummy cookies, I have quite forgot what I was going to talk about.Oh well. Until next time, lovelies
&dftba,
Jocie
CURRENTLY READING: Fire Study by Maria V. Snyder
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 3,480 (this is quite simply a little pathetic, considering I could write that in a day, but could write less then that in the entirety of last month)
LISTEN TO: Easy Virtue Soundtrack. I'm telling you, it's magnificent. The movie isn't too bad either.
p.s. I haven't actually looked at the links, because my laptop won't let me on YouTube, so if it isn't right, I apologise.
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Weekly Chats.
So, I'm so totally sick of school. I know, I know, I know you've heard this time and time again. I apologise, I really do. I just sort of... hate it, at the moment. That's saying something too, because I'm usually the kid who's always pepper and cheery in the morning. I usually love school. But, simply, right now I sort of hate it.
I just wanna laze around at home and write. I don't even care what I write, I just want to write. But, at the moment, I'm stuck on exam shutdown, prepping for two exams tomorrow (Geography and Modern History, if you're the slightest bit intrigued). I've got Tuesday off though, so hopefully I'll do something worthwhile then.
So, yea, this is just a random update. I mean, I sort of succeeded in BEDA, except I didn't necessarily blog everyday. I blogged every couple of days. But, hey, that's better than what I usually do, isn't it? So I'm think that right now, I should try and blog every week. It may not necessarily be on one particular day every week, but, I mean, it'd get me into a habit, wouldn't it?
Anywho, I should get back to analysing sources, and memorising things about urbanisation. See you guys soon!
&dftba. xox
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: I''m in between books, and I don't know what to read. Any suggestions?
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: Zilch
I just wanna laze around at home and write. I don't even care what I write, I just want to write. But, at the moment, I'm stuck on exam shutdown, prepping for two exams tomorrow (Geography and Modern History, if you're the slightest bit intrigued). I've got Tuesday off though, so hopefully I'll do something worthwhile then.
So, yea, this is just a random update. I mean, I sort of succeeded in BEDA, except I didn't necessarily blog everyday. I blogged every couple of days. But, hey, that's better than what I usually do, isn't it? So I'm think that right now, I should try and blog every week. It may not necessarily be on one particular day every week, but, I mean, it'd get me into a habit, wouldn't it?
Anywho, I should get back to analysing sources, and memorising things about urbanisation. See you guys soon!
&dftba. xox
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: I''m in between books, and I don't know what to read. Any suggestions?
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: Zilch
Monday, 29 August 2011
Home alone.
That's right. I'm home alone for three days. Now, most normal teenagers would, at the break of this news, squeal delightedly and begin savagely making plans about parties. But that don't sit well with me.
As a teenager in the twenty-first century, I have been exposed to insane amounts of technology in a very short period of time. I have seen mobiles becoming progressively smaller, and the quality of cameras increasing outrageously. Not only that, but I've also seen vaccines for cervical cancer, and such enter into this world. In that same regard, I've also seen the terror of tsunamis, and earthquakes more often than older generations have (by the way, if you're wondering. No, the world isn't going to end next year. I don't care what you say, it isn't going to end).
The twenty-first century will probably change the face of the Earth as we know it. We aren't even a quarter of the way in yet, and all these things have happened. Of course, the twentieth century was also pretty insane, but I wasn't alive for most of it, so it don't count.
Anywho, I don't know what the point of that is exactly. I just kinda, wrote it. Also, my shirt smells like sunscreen, and it is not at all appealing. It reminds me of Biology camp, and shivers run down my spine. Biology and I do not get along under any circumstances. I regret saying that but we only like each other when we're learning about genetics.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: I'm actually not entirely sure as I'm writing on the main computer, not my laptop.
QOTD: "Can we dry the shoes in microwave?" -The brother. (I wish I was kidding that he said that. He wasn't)
p.s. Wow, I just reread this post and it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. No SENSE. Just take out of it what you want. If anything.
As a teenager in the twenty-first century, I have been exposed to insane amounts of technology in a very short period of time. I have seen mobiles becoming progressively smaller, and the quality of cameras increasing outrageously. Not only that, but I've also seen vaccines for cervical cancer, and such enter into this world. In that same regard, I've also seen the terror of tsunamis, and earthquakes more often than older generations have (by the way, if you're wondering. No, the world isn't going to end next year. I don't care what you say, it isn't going to end).
The twenty-first century will probably change the face of the Earth as we know it. We aren't even a quarter of the way in yet, and all these things have happened. Of course, the twentieth century was also pretty insane, but I wasn't alive for most of it, so it don't count.
Anywho, I don't know what the point of that is exactly. I just kinda, wrote it. Also, my shirt smells like sunscreen, and it is not at all appealing. It reminds me of Biology camp, and shivers run down my spine. Biology and I do not get along under any circumstances. I regret saying that but we only like each other when we're learning about genetics.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: I'm actually not entirely sure as I'm writing on the main computer, not my laptop.
QOTD: "Can we dry the shoes in microwave?" -The brother. (I wish I was kidding that he said that. He wasn't)
p.s. Wow, I just reread this post and it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. No SENSE. Just take out of it what you want. If anything.
Friday, 26 August 2011
16.
I'd like to formally introduce you to sixteen-year old Jocie. Jocie, meet the readers of the blog. *fifteen-year old Jocie poofs away*.
So, yea. I'm sixteen now. That's cool. I don't feel much older. Perhaps a tiny bit more tired, but nothing too unrealistic. No, I haven't got my Learner's yet. Now that I can finally get my Learner's, I'm a teensy bit reluctant to actually get it. I just don't understand why I should if I'm going to follow my five year plan. If I get into the uni course of my choice, I'll be moving and living in a college (a college is a Australian equivalent of residence halls). I'll be in a city, so I won't have much use for a car. Then I'll be off to England. Specifically, London. So, really where's the point?
Anywho, I had a lovely day. I got a few presents, and they were lovely. My favourite was probably the tea strainer that was a yellow submarine. Best. Thing. Ever. Then, later this afternoon, some of my YouTube friends posted a happy birthday video for me:
Even though it was a day late, it was lovely. It simply made my day.
On another note, throughout the whole day, my phone kept going off in class. It wasn't good, but the messages left were hilarious. My dad sang happy birthday to me, a la Marilyn Monroe style. Disturbing, but hilarious. Then, later that night, the family and I went to dinner at a Tepanyaki place. It was very, very yummy. We then went home and ate cake. The mother actually got entirely too excited about the birthday candles (sparkles shaped as 1, and 6), and the brother decided he wanted to try and blow out the aforementioned sparklers. Oh, my family. Here's a picture for your eyes to see:
So, um. Yea. No point to this blog really, except to inform you of my new sixteen-ing-ness. Oh, yea, is everybody in Pottermore now? All of the friends have, and then there's me, wailing after watching a Castle episode. *if you can't tell, my email hasn't come yet*
CURRENTLY READING: Devils Kiss by Sarwat Chadda
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 2,227
QOTD: " *hears crashing noise* Nothing bad happened! I swear, nothing bad happened!" -The brother, Nic
So, yea. I'm sixteen now. That's cool. I don't feel much older. Perhaps a tiny bit more tired, but nothing too unrealistic. No, I haven't got my Learner's yet. Now that I can finally get my Learner's, I'm a teensy bit reluctant to actually get it. I just don't understand why I should if I'm going to follow my five year plan. If I get into the uni course of my choice, I'll be moving and living in a college (a college is a Australian equivalent of residence halls). I'll be in a city, so I won't have much use for a car. Then I'll be off to England. Specifically, London. So, really where's the point?
Anywho, I had a lovely day. I got a few presents, and they were lovely. My favourite was probably the tea strainer that was a yellow submarine. Best. Thing. Ever. Then, later this afternoon, some of my YouTube friends posted a happy birthday video for me:
Even though it was a day late, it was lovely. It simply made my day.
On another note, throughout the whole day, my phone kept going off in class. It wasn't good, but the messages left were hilarious. My dad sang happy birthday to me, a la Marilyn Monroe style. Disturbing, but hilarious. Then, later that night, the family and I went to dinner at a Tepanyaki place. It was very, very yummy. We then went home and ate cake. The mother actually got entirely too excited about the birthday candles (sparkles shaped as 1, and 6), and the brother decided he wanted to try and blow out the aforementioned sparklers. Oh, my family. Here's a picture for your eyes to see:
 |
| The 1 sparkler had already blown out by the time this photo was taken. |
CURRENTLY READING: Devils Kiss by Sarwat Chadda
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 2,227
QOTD: " *hears crashing noise* Nothing bad happened! I swear, nothing bad happened!" -The brother, Nic
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Journals.
So, tonights blog post (about journals) coincidentally came when I was writing in my journal. It occurred to me, as I was writing in the aforementioned journal that I have gone through quite a few journals in my small, fifteen (nearly sixteen!) years. I don't know whether I just look like someone who uses a journal a lot, or something, but it has been something that has been a constant present for many years. Admittedly, I do use journals a lot. Even more so, recently.
Before you say anything, yes, I was that little girl who would bother their mother and/or father to get them a pretty notebook/diary/journal until they caved (I really don't like calling them diaries, because it only reminds me of homework). It's what I did, and to be honest, I don't think either of them minded very much. Even though, in the recent years, my birthday journals have been replaced with gift vouchers and such, it doesn't stop my love for journals.
I literally do use my journals for everything. It ranges from writing down a couple to a dozen lists, the things I have to do for homework, doodling random pictures (which honestly, isn't something I'm good at), to legit writing scenes from the multiple W.I.P's, to venting out my frustrations. They're some of the things I do a lot of in my journals.
So, for the purpose of this video, I have ransacked through my room, and found as many as I possibly could. The things I do for you guys. (And, yes I'm a bit of a hoarder).
Out of all the journals, I have wrote some form of fiction in... *looks through them* 5 of them. They would be OLDOLDOLD, Science-y School, Dolphin, Big Spotty, and Pinky Positive.
I'm pretty sure OLDOLDOLD (which is from, like, Grade 4 or 5), is the first example of my brilliant story writing. I actually just read through it, and it was a murder mystery, with the victim being Daisy Mowbray (pronounced Moe-bray, it says quite specifically in my notes), and the murderer being Paul Cabet (with a silent T, apparently, so I suppose it's pronounced Cab-ay, or something ludicrous). The detective is Kirsty Windchester, and the victim was found by Beverly Hill (OMG, so original). My obsession with Harry Potter is obvious from the beginning; one of my suspects was called Victor Crumb. He was a janitor. Oh, I'm shutting up about it now, because I'm absolutely certain this needs to be made into a video. Sorry, kids. You'll have to wait for that now.
The funny thing is, is that I actually remember writing it. Despite it only being a page (not kidding, one stinking page), I specifically remember going to my mum and asking her what a good dead person's name is. Oh my gosh, this is bringing a wave of nostalgia over me.
The four other journals (which really, are more fitting for the title diary, I feel) are practically my whining books. And my future books o.o. I wish I was even kidding, but apparently I was obsessed with the future even then. Little Spotty, and Supergirl (the pink one that wasn't labelled, because I'm a fool) are both dedicated to my life's ambitions, as well as future careers, etc. etc.
God, I'm so weird. Pinky Babu and Flowery Pinky are both filled with my daily encounters of life, and is spent for a majority of the time complaining about things. *throws hands up* I don't even know.
Can I just say, before I go, that just because I've got a lot of pink journals, it doesn't necessarily mean I like pink. Sure, when I was younger, it was my favourite colour, but seriously, it's green now. Green and me get along swimmingly.
Well, I'm gonna be off now. Homework is beckoning me to go stroke it's bristles (plus my mum is verging on the career/life lecture). If I don't make the nostalgia story video soon, poke me repeatedly until I lose it, and do it out of spite.
I'll thank you now, because I'll probably hate you when you actually do it.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Exile by Rebecca Lim
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 4 (omgomgomgomg)
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 1,278 (I'm actually writing at the moment, that's why this topic came up in the first place)
QOTD: "Oh no, it was my phone. I passed out of my dream like a scream, and looked at the time" - Myself, aged 8, attempting to write a murder mystery.
Before you say anything, yes, I was that little girl who would bother their mother and/or father to get them a pretty notebook/diary/journal until they caved (I really don't like calling them diaries, because it only reminds me of homework). It's what I did, and to be honest, I don't think either of them minded very much. Even though, in the recent years, my birthday journals have been replaced with gift vouchers and such, it doesn't stop my love for journals.
I literally do use my journals for everything. It ranges from writing down a couple to a dozen lists, the things I have to do for homework, doodling random pictures (which honestly, isn't something I'm good at), to legit writing scenes from the multiple W.I.P's, to venting out my frustrations. They're some of the things I do a lot of in my journals.
So, for the purpose of this video, I have ransacked through my room, and found as many as I possibly could. The things I do for you guys. (And, yes I'm a bit of a hoarder).
 |
| I nicknamed them all for you, so you know what I'm talking about. I'm so nice, aren't I? (also, sorry for the crappy quality) |
I'm pretty sure OLDOLDOLD (which is from, like, Grade 4 or 5), is the first example of my brilliant story writing. I actually just read through it, and it was a murder mystery, with the victim being Daisy Mowbray (pronounced Moe-bray, it says quite specifically in my notes), and the murderer being Paul Cabet (with a silent T, apparently, so I suppose it's pronounced Cab-ay, or something ludicrous). The detective is Kirsty Windchester, and the victim was found by Beverly Hill (OMG, so original). My obsession with Harry Potter is obvious from the beginning; one of my suspects was called Victor Crumb. He was a janitor. Oh, I'm shutting up about it now, because I'm absolutely certain this needs to be made into a video. Sorry, kids. You'll have to wait for that now.
The funny thing is, is that I actually remember writing it. Despite it only being a page (not kidding, one stinking page), I specifically remember going to my mum and asking her what a good dead person's name is. Oh my gosh, this is bringing a wave of nostalgia over me.
The four other journals (which really, are more fitting for the title diary, I feel) are practically my whining books. And my future books o.o. I wish I was even kidding, but apparently I was obsessed with the future even then. Little Spotty, and Supergirl (the pink one that wasn't labelled, because I'm a fool) are both dedicated to my life's ambitions, as well as future careers, etc. etc.
God, I'm so weird. Pinky Babu and Flowery Pinky are both filled with my daily encounters of life, and is spent for a majority of the time complaining about things. *throws hands up* I don't even know.
Can I just say, before I go, that just because I've got a lot of pink journals, it doesn't necessarily mean I like pink. Sure, when I was younger, it was my favourite colour, but seriously, it's green now. Green and me get along swimmingly.
Well, I'm gonna be off now. Homework is beckoning me to go stroke it's bristles (plus my mum is verging on the career/life lecture). If I don't make the nostalgia story video soon, poke me repeatedly until I lose it, and do it out of spite.
I'll thank you now, because I'll probably hate you when you actually do it.
BOOK CURRENTLY READING: Exile by Rebecca Lim
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 4 (omgomgomgomg)
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 1,278 (I'm actually writing at the moment, that's why this topic came up in the first place)
QOTD: "Oh no, it was my phone. I passed out of my dream like a scream, and looked at the time" - Myself, aged 8, attempting to write a murder mystery.
Friday, 19 August 2011
I'M BACK!
GUYS, I'M BACK!
I've actually been back for two days now. I just haven't really had any time to tell you guys. So, I'm sure you're wondering how Biology camp was. To be honest, it was just meh. There was a never-ending limit to the lectures I had to listen to, and then we had to do kayaking. Then there was more lectures, and then there was a sand dunes activity (in which I didn't learn anything, because I had learnt it all from Term 1 Geography), and then donuts and home.
I really wish I could say it was more fun, but frankly I just couldn't. It probably doesn't help that I don't particularly enjoy Biology as it is. The only real reason I'm doing it is so I can do the genetics and diseases units (because I find that sort of stuff fascinating). Those units aren't even until next year, and this depresses me.
Speaking of which, today I was just browsing Facebook, as you do, when I saw a person's status. It said something along the lines of "We have been through 43 terms of school. We now only have 5 terms left".
That comment left me astounded. I was just shell-shocked. Then I became sort of sad, because I realised that my schooling life really is about to come to a close. Just, ughhhh.
Um, so I can't think of anything else. I'll leave you guys to it, yea?
Ok, well, bye.
BOOK/S CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Wither by Lauren Destefano
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 6 *squeals*
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 838 (I'm writing some more tonight, so hopefully the limit will be up next time I write a blog)
QOTD: “Eventually I realise that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.” - Wither by Lauren Destefano
I've actually been back for two days now. I just haven't really had any time to tell you guys. So, I'm sure you're wondering how Biology camp was. To be honest, it was just meh. There was a never-ending limit to the lectures I had to listen to, and then we had to do kayaking. Then there was more lectures, and then there was a sand dunes activity (in which I didn't learn anything, because I had learnt it all from Term 1 Geography), and then donuts and home.
I really wish I could say it was more fun, but frankly I just couldn't. It probably doesn't help that I don't particularly enjoy Biology as it is. The only real reason I'm doing it is so I can do the genetics and diseases units (because I find that sort of stuff fascinating). Those units aren't even until next year, and this depresses me.
Speaking of which, today I was just browsing Facebook, as you do, when I saw a person's status. It said something along the lines of "We have been through 43 terms of school. We now only have 5 terms left".
That comment left me astounded. I was just shell-shocked. Then I became sort of sad, because I realised that my schooling life really is about to come to a close. Just, ughhhh.
Um, so I can't think of anything else. I'll leave you guys to it, yea?
Ok, well, bye.
BOOK/S CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Wither by Lauren Destefano
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 6 *squeals*
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 838 (I'm writing some more tonight, so hopefully the limit will be up next time I write a blog)
QOTD: “Eventually I realise that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.” - Wither by Lauren Destefano
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Packing & Inane Rambling
I'm currently "packing", and by "packing", I mean doing everything but that exact thing. Frankly, it occurred to me today, while at work, that I really didn't want to go to Biology camp. We (apparently) have really limited time to do anything for ourselves. I'm being legit. We have night lectures, every stinking night.
So here I am, at 6:10, with just over twelve hours before I am to leave for the fun time that the camp will be. We'll be counting Anemones and Sea Urchins.
On a much brighter note, I got a bikini today. It's BLUE, and polka dotty, and frilly. You're all probably thinking I'm insane buying a bikini in Winter, but it was on the checklist (for Biology camp, I mean. It actually said swimwear, as well. Not bikini. I can only imagine the horror of seeing the guys going, walking around in a bikini *involuntarily shivers*).
On another note, while at work today I discovered a new sort of thing for database searching. It practically made my day. I got so excited over it, and I think my manager thought I was going to pee my pants or something. She just kept nervous laughing.
I also met the famously enigmatic new guy, who everybody has seen except me. Until today. I think he might think I have some sort of mental problem, due to how often I talk to myself. Everybody else knows I talk to myself far too often, but he was giving me strange looks the whole time, and then mumbling something along the lines of 'Oh, you're talking to yourself again, right?' (I just nodded in reply, unless I wasn't). However that wasn't really why I was looking forward to meeting him (to show him my craziness, I mean)It was actually because he was (is) apparently really hot. Shallow of me to say, but, he totally is. Having a moment of deja vu here, have I said/typed about him before?
Ok, ok, ok, the shallowness for the day has ended. Chill. I started re-reading Wither because I was just feeling like it was a re-reading time. I'm still reading The Great Gatsby, but I'm just reading multiple books again. Then I plan on re-reading Across the Universe (partly to see if anything's changed in the real book, as opposed to the ARC, and partly because I really, really, really wanna get Glow and Across the Universe is similar to it. Plus, you know, I sorta love it.).
But on the note of Glow, have you seen the UK cover? It is so gorgeous. Usually Australia gets the UK cover, and I hope that's the case this time. It's soooooo pretty. The US one is just sorta... Strange. No offense, American peeps.
If we are to talk about all the arts, I suppose I should talk about music. You know who's awesome? Noah & the Whale. They are the bestest band ever. As well as Mumford & Sons. Marina & the Diamonds too. There are more, but I'm far too lazy to link everything/ think of others.
Well, you'll have to excuse me, for now, I am furthering my procrastination and dancing around my room like an idiot. To the aforementioned music (among other musicians), not silence. That would just be really awkward. People would really think I'm insane then.
I HOPE YOU DON'T MISS MY PRESENCE TOO MUCH. Farewell, lovelies.
For three days, anyway.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (voluntarily, I might add)
Wither by Lauren Destefano
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 833 (still)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 11
QOTD: "Sometimes a perfect memory can be ruined if put to words" - Imaginary Girls
(This is easily one of my favourite books, and the cover is so prettyyyyy)
So here I am, at 6:10, with just over twelve hours before I am to leave for the fun time that the camp will be. We'll be counting Anemones and Sea Urchins.
 |
| See how cute it is? How can you not like it? Thank you, Kmart. |
On another note, while at work today I discovered a new sort of thing for database searching. It practically made my day. I got so excited over it, and I think my manager thought I was going to pee my pants or something. She just kept nervous laughing.
I also met the famously enigmatic new guy, who everybody has seen except me. Until today. I think he might think I have some sort of mental problem, due to how often I talk to myself. Everybody else knows I talk to myself far too often, but he was giving me strange looks the whole time, and then mumbling something along the lines of 'Oh, you're talking to yourself again, right?' (I just nodded in reply, unless I wasn't). However that wasn't really why I was looking forward to meeting him (to show him my craziness, I mean)It was actually because he was (is) apparently really hot. Shallow of me to say, but, he totally is. Having a moment of deja vu here, have I said/typed about him before?
Ok, ok, ok, the shallowness for the day has ended. Chill. I started re-reading Wither because I was just feeling like it was a re-reading time. I'm still reading The Great Gatsby, but I'm just reading multiple books again. Then I plan on re-reading Across the Universe (partly to see if anything's changed in the real book, as opposed to the ARC, and partly because I really, really, really wanna get Glow and Across the Universe is similar to it. Plus, you know, I sorta love it.).
 |
| Sooooooooooooooo pretty. |
If we are to talk about all the arts, I suppose I should talk about music. You know who's awesome? Noah & the Whale. They are the bestest band ever. As well as Mumford & Sons. Marina & the Diamonds too. There are more, but I'm far too lazy to link everything/ think of others.
Well, you'll have to excuse me, for now, I am furthering my procrastination and dancing around my room like an idiot. To the aforementioned music (among other musicians), not silence. That would just be really awkward. People would really think I'm insane then.
I HOPE YOU DON'T MISS MY PRESENCE TOO MUCH. Farewell, lovelies.
For three days, anyway.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (voluntarily, I might add)
Wither by Lauren Destefano
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 833 (still)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 11
QOTD: "Sometimes a perfect memory can be ruined if put to words" - Imaginary Girls
(This is easily one of my favourite books, and the cover is so prettyyyyy)
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
English-Grammar Fiend.
So, I just lectured my friend about the importance of your/you're. Yes, I'm one of those people you meet. That person who automatically corrects you if you pronounce something wrong, if you're written grammar/ punctuation is wrong, or if you read the wrong sorts of books which have horrible English and are generally bad influences on your morals.
Yes, I'm the fiend of English. The Grammar Nazi. The ENGLISH Nazi.
So, hey there. Today's blog is going to be about my annoyances with today's modern English language. As many of you may or may not know, I'm doing Macbeth this term as part of a play study. Now, even though I'm completely aware that people in the 16th/ 17th century didn't actually talk like this, but it's just soooo romantic. Remember, you're talking to dead beat (hopeless) romantic here. I just GET Shakespeare, you know? Wow, you're all gonna think I'm some sort of freak aren't you? Everybody I know hates it, so I wouldn't be surprised if you guys think I'm weird, either.
But getting back to the main point (English/Grammar Nazi), I'm known among all friends as the Grammar Nazi/English Nazi. I wish I was kidding. My friends cower when I'm around, completely all too aware that if they say the slightest thing wrong, I will attack and lecture and correct. That was a joke.No, but seriously, I tend to get glared at a bit when I interrupt a conversation to edit someone.
Not that it's really my fault. When you read as much as I do, you quickly understand when people are making blatantly obvious mistakes. Having an English teacher as a mother, who continuously edits you not matter what hour of the day (or night), probably doesn't help either.
There was really no point for this blog. I just felt like writing it. So. Yea.
Tootaloo
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 833
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 15
QOTD:
Me: I PROMISE YOU
Yes, I'm the fiend of English. The Grammar Nazi. The ENGLISH Nazi.
So, hey there. Today's blog is going to be about my annoyances with today's modern English language. As many of you may or may not know, I'm doing Macbeth this term as part of a play study. Now, even though I'm completely aware that people in the 16th/ 17th century didn't actually talk like this, but it's just soooo romantic. Remember, you're talking to dead beat (hopeless) romantic here. I just GET Shakespeare, you know? Wow, you're all gonna think I'm some sort of freak aren't you? Everybody I know hates it, so I wouldn't be surprised if you guys think I'm weird, either.
But getting back to the main point (English/Grammar Nazi), I'm known among all friends as the Grammar Nazi/English Nazi. I wish I was kidding. My friends cower when I'm around, completely all too aware that if they say the slightest thing wrong, I will attack and lecture and correct. That was a joke.No, but seriously, I tend to get glared at a bit when I interrupt a conversation to edit someone.
Not that it's really my fault. When you read as much as I do, you quickly understand when people are making blatantly obvious mistakes. Having an English teacher as a mother, who continuously edits you not matter what hour of the day (or night), probably doesn't help either.
There was really no point for this blog. I just felt like writing it. So. Yea.
Tootaloo
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 833
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 15
QOTD:
Me: I PROMISE YOU
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Paragraphing and Writing has BEGUN!
So guess who's actually writing again? That's right people, I've finally lost my August writing challenge virginity (that was a sort of bad/inappropriate analogy, wasn't it? I'm sorry, I'm very, very sorry). Mind you, I've only written about a sentence, but tonight is a night of little to no homework, there's nachos for dinner and I actually have free time. Yes, my dear friends, life is good. :)
Admittedly, I do have a Geography exam tomorrow, but I'm being blissfully ignorant about that fact, and spending some quality time with my W.I.P.
So, on another note, I spent my day writing many, many paragraphs. First, in Modern History we have a mini writing workshop about how to write comparative paragraphs, as well as cause and effect paragraphs. We then began talking about Euthanasia during Nazi Germany, which was severely depressing. That's one thing I've noticed since we started this unit, is that by the end of every single, stinking lesson, I end up feeling depressed because I just can't get my head wrapped around the fact that people can do that to each other, and not wonder about where their humanity is going. It's just, I don't even understand. *sighs* That's naivety at it's best, isn't it? Mind you, I have read Book Thief by Marcus Zusak (which is brilliant, in case you were considering reading it), so I do realise that most of the German people didn't even know what was really going on because they were so sheltered.
Anywho, then I had Biology, which involved spending the whole lesson writing out methods for our ecology reports. Speaking of which, next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I will be unable/unavailable to write up the daily blogs (I know you guys will certainly miss my touching posts, no need to cry *sarcasm*). This is due to the fact that I am off to a rocky shores ecosystem camp for the aforementioned report. My group is counting Red Warratah Anenomes, and Sea Urchins. It will be great fun. You know what's even greater? That, according to my teacher, we get to listen to lectures about ecosystems every night for two straight nights. I think I may die.
Then, last up, I had Maths. Which, is, you know, Maths. I don't particularly enjoy it, but I'm becoming increasingly pleased with myself due to the minute fact that I can actually understand how to do things like logarithms, and trig functions.
Anywho, that's me for the day. I hope all of you have joyous nights/mornings/afternoons and I shall see you all tomorrow.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Supernaturally by Kierstin White
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: (Currently) I'm not actually entirely sure. Approx 32?
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 16
QOTD: "Arthur Darvil* lives in Birmingham. People are rioting because they'll never be as cool as Rory Williams" - Georgia
*For those of you who don't know who Arthur Darvill is, he plays Rory in Doctor Who. He's Amy's husband, and is the one who keeps dying.
Admittedly, I do have a Geography exam tomorrow, but I'm being blissfully ignorant about that fact, and spending some quality time with my W.I.P.
So, on another note, I spent my day writing many, many paragraphs. First, in Modern History we have a mini writing workshop about how to write comparative paragraphs, as well as cause and effect paragraphs. We then began talking about Euthanasia during Nazi Germany, which was severely depressing. That's one thing I've noticed since we started this unit, is that by the end of every single, stinking lesson, I end up feeling depressed because I just can't get my head wrapped around the fact that people can do that to each other, and not wonder about where their humanity is going. It's just, I don't even understand. *sighs* That's naivety at it's best, isn't it? Mind you, I have read Book Thief by Marcus Zusak (which is brilliant, in case you were considering reading it), so I do realise that most of the German people didn't even know what was really going on because they were so sheltered.
Anywho, then I had Biology, which involved spending the whole lesson writing out methods for our ecology reports. Speaking of which, next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I will be unable/unavailable to write up the daily blogs (I know you guys will certainly miss my touching posts, no need to cry *sarcasm*). This is due to the fact that I am off to a rocky shores ecosystem camp for the aforementioned report. My group is counting Red Warratah Anenomes, and Sea Urchins. It will be great fun. You know what's even greater? That, according to my teacher, we get to listen to lectures about ecosystems every night for two straight nights. I think I may die.
Then, last up, I had Maths. Which, is, you know, Maths. I don't particularly enjoy it, but I'm becoming increasingly pleased with myself due to the minute fact that I can actually understand how to do things like logarithms, and trig functions.
Anywho, that's me for the day. I hope all of you have joyous nights/mornings/afternoons and I shall see you all tomorrow.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Supernaturally by Kierstin White
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: (Currently) I'm not actually entirely sure. Approx 32?
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 16
QOTD: "Arthur Darvil* lives in Birmingham. People are rioting because they'll never be as cool as Rory Williams" - Georgia
*For those of you who don't know who Arthur Darvill is, he plays Rory in Doctor Who. He's Amy's husband, and is the one who keeps dying.
Monday, 8 August 2011
Nonsense about Tumblr.
So I think I should mention that technically, I have been blogging everyday on my Tumblr. They've just mainly been photos, and quotes, and music and stuff. But, seriously peeps, I actually legit wrote a proper post tonight. I promise.Go check it out. It's about Vampire Diaries & real life. Real deep stuff, you know? *you can take that as sarcasm if you wish* I can't actually seem to get a exact link for it, but it is there. I promise.
So other than the mundane thing that is my life, I've spent my night thus far writing about Macbeth and how it's themes are relevant in contemporary society. I don't know how many words it's supposed to be, so I've just kept writing heaps. At the moment, it's at 1,238 words (which probably means a s*** load will be cut out). Then I've got to figure out how to make it into a multi-modal persuasive speech, which is always FUN. *Ok, that was sarcasm that time*. I also had a Geography prac exam today. It was actually, really quite fun. We spend the hour fourty-five colouring in and drawing graphs.
Ok, I'm off to properly finish this. Here, again is the link to my Tumblr. I feel that this will prove to you that I'm not completely useless.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Supernaturally by Kierstin White
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 0... Still. I know, I have no excuse.
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 17
QOTD: "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense" - Alice in Wonderland.
So other than the mundane thing that is my life, I've spent my night thus far writing about Macbeth and how it's themes are relevant in contemporary society. I don't know how many words it's supposed to be, so I've just kept writing heaps. At the moment, it's at 1,238 words (which probably means a s*** load will be cut out). Then I've got to figure out how to make it into a multi-modal persuasive speech, which is always FUN. *Ok, that was sarcasm that time*. I also had a Geography prac exam today. It was actually, really quite fun. We spend the hour fourty-five colouring in and drawing graphs.
Ok, I'm off to properly finish this. Here, again is the link to my Tumblr. I feel that this will prove to you that I'm not completely useless.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Supernaturally by Kierstin White
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 0... Still. I know, I have no excuse.
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 17
QOTD: "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense" - Alice in Wonderland.
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
BEDA: Day Three.
So, I'm sure you're all wondering how Captain America is (considering I left you on that note). It is freaking amazing. Go see it. NOW. Seriously peeps. Admittedly, the main dude (Chris Evans) reminds me quite a bit of Channing Tatum, but the whole movie is full of amazing actors who I love and have slight crushes on. I literally spent every ten seconds silently screaming because there were so many actors who I love/ have seen in other things (according to my friend, this isn't normal).
Other than that, I've been doing school work, and catching up on Castle. IT'S BEEN A FUN NIGHT.
Now, I actually have a (sort of) point for this blog (for once). Today, all grade 11's got their very first OP estimations. Now, I'm not sure about any other Australian school, but at mine, the moment you enter grade 11 is the moment teachers start freaking out about the importance of getting good grades, etc. (which, admittedly, I agree with. *shrugs* Don't blame me, I've been under the influence of an English teacher my whole life). Today was the VERY first time we'd ever gotten anything like this. Now, of course, if you know me, than you know how neurotic I can get. That was the case today. Ultimately, in the end, I didn't really need to worry, but that's not the point.
The teacher who was giving us our OP scores (for those of you who don't know what an OP score is, I'll link it here) was telling us that heaps of students she knew had, at first, gotten really good OP scores in grade 11, and decided that there was no need to continue studying hard if they were going to end up with something really good anyway. It actually got me thinking about things.
I know heaps of people who work hard. Nay, I make sure that I surround myself around people who work hard. And whether it's because I've done this all my life, or it's just how I've evolved as a person, I've begun to really dislike people who never try. I think trying is something that makes people who they are, and gets people to places. This may be a major reason as to why I dislike Serena from Gossip Girl. I think, in my mind, people who don't bother with getting good marks aren't looking into the future and seeing how much their grades will affect them. I realise that in, say twenty years, your marks really won't define you as a person, but right now, as a high school student they affect your whole life. They decide whether or not you'll make it into your preferred uni course, they'll decide whether you'll actually be qualified to graduate. In essence, it is very important.
So because of this, because of the fact that there is a specific course I want to get into, I really hate it if people don't try. Because ultimately, if they don't try, it's going to affect not just their future, but it'll affect mine as well (that may sound self-absorbed, but it'll also affect everybody else who is working hard).
I'm thinking this is a whole bunch of ramble, so I apologise for that. I promise, tomorrow's blog will make more sense (hopefully). Seeya tomorrow, kids.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Linger by Maggie Stiefvater
By Midnight by Mia James
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 0 (I know, I've been busy)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 22
QOTD: "I mean, how would Edward be able to stand being around Bella when she was on her period? Seriously, if he can't keep his cool when she cuts her finger, how would he act when she's bleeding for a whole week?" - Eleni
-----Oh, and if you guys were wondering (which you probably weren't), my OP estimation was 6-9, which I'm EXTREMELY happy with (I thought I'd be in double digits).
Other than that, I've been doing school work, and catching up on Castle. IT'S BEEN A FUN NIGHT.
Now, I actually have a (sort of) point for this blog (for once). Today, all grade 11's got their very first OP estimations. Now, I'm not sure about any other Australian school, but at mine, the moment you enter grade 11 is the moment teachers start freaking out about the importance of getting good grades, etc. (which, admittedly, I agree with. *shrugs* Don't blame me, I've been under the influence of an English teacher my whole life). Today was the VERY first time we'd ever gotten anything like this. Now, of course, if you know me, than you know how neurotic I can get. That was the case today. Ultimately, in the end, I didn't really need to worry, but that's not the point.
The teacher who was giving us our OP scores (for those of you who don't know what an OP score is, I'll link it here) was telling us that heaps of students she knew had, at first, gotten really good OP scores in grade 11, and decided that there was no need to continue studying hard if they were going to end up with something really good anyway. It actually got me thinking about things.
I know heaps of people who work hard. Nay, I make sure that I surround myself around people who work hard. And whether it's because I've done this all my life, or it's just how I've evolved as a person, I've begun to really dislike people who never try. I think trying is something that makes people who they are, and gets people to places. This may be a major reason as to why I dislike Serena from Gossip Girl. I think, in my mind, people who don't bother with getting good marks aren't looking into the future and seeing how much their grades will affect them. I realise that in, say twenty years, your marks really won't define you as a person, but right now, as a high school student they affect your whole life. They decide whether or not you'll make it into your preferred uni course, they'll decide whether you'll actually be qualified to graduate. In essence, it is very important.
So because of this, because of the fact that there is a specific course I want to get into, I really hate it if people don't try. Because ultimately, if they don't try, it's going to affect not just their future, but it'll affect mine as well (that may sound self-absorbed, but it'll also affect everybody else who is working hard).
I'm thinking this is a whole bunch of ramble, so I apologise for that. I promise, tomorrow's blog will make more sense (hopefully). Seeya tomorrow, kids.
BOOKS CURRENTLY READING: Linger by Maggie Stiefvater
By Midnight by Mia James
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: 0 (I know, I've been busy)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 22
QOTD: "I mean, how would Edward be able to stand being around Bella when she was on her period? Seriously, if he can't keep his cool when she cuts her finger, how would he act when she's bleeding for a whole week?" - Eleni
-----Oh, and if you guys were wondering (which you probably weren't), my OP estimation was 6-9, which I'm EXTREMELY happy with (I thought I'd be in double digits).
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
BEDA: Day Two.
So, guys. I have exciting news. I GOT INTO POTTERMORE. I couldn't stop squealing all night (you may not believe me, but my brother and mum certainly do). My username is FeatherGhost90. I sorta love it. It's freaking fabulous.
Anywho. I've already broken my challenge. Yes, I am a sad person. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Jocie, you did not break the challenge, you're writing two days in a row. YOU HAVEN'T BROKEN THE CHALLENGE YET'. But I'm afraid some of you must have forgotten about the second (self-imposed) challenge. You know. The writing everyday thing. So, uh, yea. I got swept up in the Pottermore craze, and was obsessively refreshing my browser every ten seconds. Only my friends who were on Skype will believe me. BUT I SWEAR IT'S TRUE.
ANYWAYS. Now that the crazy excuse thing is over, I can now get onto the topic of today's post. This is fellow BEDA people. I've only got a few people, so the list is probably going to be very lackluster and anti-climatic. I apologise in advance. So, if you happen to want to follow anybody else's crazy antics for blogging everyday this August here's the list:
- Hayley G. Hoover (aka hayleyghoover from YouTube)
- Abby (who's an Internet friend and is a special kind of awesome)
- Kayley (also known as owlssayhooot on YouTube)
Furthermore, if you want to watch someones crazy antics, follow my buddy Harry, who's doing VEDA.
(I told you it'd be anti-climatic)
Now onto the second part of this blog post. Today I had Modern History, Biology and Maths B. It was quite uneventful, except for the few amusing moments and ten minute squealing matches between my friends and I about getting into Pottermore. Later tonight I'm going to see Captain America. I'm pretty excited. I haven't really heard that much about it, but I know there's a hot guy in there and he wears tight clothes. o.o. Call me vain all you want, but you know you do it too. There's not use denying it, my friends. Recently, I've become overly obsessed with Sims 3 once more. So much so that I've actually asked for an expansion pack for my birthday. I'm so excited. IT'S GOING TO BE EPIC (this is a rather awkward note to end on but I've got to go do homework, so).
Tootaloo!
BOOK/S CURRENTLY READING: Linger by Maggie Stiefvater
By Midnight by Mia James
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: Nilch (0)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 23
Anywho. I've already broken my challenge. Yes, I am a sad person. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Jocie, you did not break the challenge, you're writing two days in a row. YOU HAVEN'T BROKEN THE CHALLENGE YET'. But I'm afraid some of you must have forgotten about the second (self-imposed) challenge. You know. The writing everyday thing. So, uh, yea. I got swept up in the Pottermore craze, and was obsessively refreshing my browser every ten seconds. Only my friends who were on Skype will believe me. BUT I SWEAR IT'S TRUE.
ANYWAYS. Now that the crazy excuse thing is over, I can now get onto the topic of today's post. This is fellow BEDA people. I've only got a few people, so the list is probably going to be very lackluster and anti-climatic. I apologise in advance. So, if you happen to want to follow anybody else's crazy antics for blogging everyday this August here's the list:
- Hayley G. Hoover (aka hayleyghoover from YouTube)
- Abby (who's an Internet friend and is a special kind of awesome)
- Kayley (also known as owlssayhooot on YouTube)
Furthermore, if you want to watch someones crazy antics, follow my buddy Harry, who's doing VEDA.
(I told you it'd be anti-climatic)
Now onto the second part of this blog post. Today I had Modern History, Biology and Maths B. It was quite uneventful, except for the few amusing moments and ten minute squealing matches between my friends and I about getting into Pottermore. Later tonight I'm going to see Captain America. I'm pretty excited. I haven't really heard that much about it, but I know there's a hot guy in there and he wears tight clothes. o.o. Call me vain all you want, but you know you do it too. There's not use denying it, my friends. Recently, I've become overly obsessed with Sims 3 once more. So much so that I've actually asked for an expansion pack for my birthday. I'm so excited. IT'S GOING TO BE EPIC (this is a rather awkward note to end on but I've got to go do homework, so).
Tootaloo!
BOOK/S CURRENTLY READING: Linger by Maggie Stiefvater
By Midnight by Mia James
WORDS WRITTEN THIS MONTH: Nilch (0)
DAYS TILL BIRTHDAY: 23
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