So one of my friends told everyone to blog today. I have nothing to blog about. So I will write all sorts of random thoughts that I've had over the course of the day.
I received my Maths assignment. The teacher said is was easy. I started counting the pages and stopped after 10.
Excuse me, I don't care how easy it is, something that takes that much paper is going to be tedious and horrible. Don't get my hopes up by saying it's simple.
He also said it wouldn't take me too long. Yeah. Sure. Whatever.
Anyway. I came home early today due to being sick again. I planned on going to bed. No, really, I did. I wanted to sleep and get over this.
I just, you know, wanted to check Twitter and Tumblr first.
It was a slippery slope. I started by reading a few things, and next thing I knew I had 18 tabs open and 3 hours had passed. Damn it, interwebs.
I couldn't help it though. I didn't know about these riots around England until I got home, so I started looking up the stories. And by the time I'd finished reading about these (surprisingly scary sounding) riots, I'd totally forgotten about going to bed.
40 pages of Tumblr later, and there was no longer any point to sleeping. I mean, once it hits a certain point in the afternoon, I can't nap without finding it impossible to sleep that night. Oh well.
A week ago, our English teacher told us all what grades he thought we should have at the least. He told me A+.
...I haven't had an A+ since year... 10? 9? Something like that. Usually I get an A-. I think I had a B+ once last year.
...Good to know that he's realised that my assignments are usually completed the morning they're due and aren't really a true reflection of my abilities, I guess.
Okay, so I'm now cleaning my room. I was going to watch Supernatural, and then I was going to browse Google Earth, but I've ended up cleaning. How did this happen? I have no idea. But anyway.
I took a bag to the bin earlier. Like, one of those huge black bags that you could fit 20 cats in. I don't know why I'm measuring in cats, but you get what I mean. And that was just stuff I'd found under my desk. My room is a mess. Anyway. The bin was covered in tiny little flying bugs. It was terrifying. I've never run away from something so fast in my life. And now I'm worried that I have bugs in my hair. It was terrible.
I have erasers that are shaped like different types of sushi on my desk. They're pretty awesome. Also, I have 962 379 steps total on my Pokewalker. Speaking of which, I haven't used my Pokewalker at all today, and yet I seem to have 10 steps.
How?
How?
I don't even.
I was going to advertise a song here but the title is in Katakana and I don't have a Japanese typing thing on this computer. I could type it on the laptop, but that'd involve opening Blogger on there and I am much too lazy to do that. Oh well. I will advertise it later.
Download Helper (the Firefox add-on) is being a bitch. It keeps stopping half way through a download and is all "download complete" but when I watch the video I'll see maybe 10 minutes before it cuts out. Pfft. Finished my ass.
That saying makes no sense whatsoever.
My Extension English teacher asked if I was enjoying my book. And, for the first time in a long while, I was able to say that yes, I was enjoying a book that I had to choose for English. Quite a lot, actually. It's very stream-of-consciousness styled, and I like that. It's also an existentialist novel, which increases my love for it tenfold. It's also very pessimistic and funny and hey, who doesn't like self-depreciative humour?
The book is Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, for anyone who is interested. It is beautiful and absolutely horrid all at once. A brilliant piece of work, I must say.
I had this conversation with Dad after going to a university open day.
Dad: So, I assume you're studying in Japan abroad? I think it'd really help you become fluent in the language.
Me: Heh. Yeah...
Dad: ...you seem tentative?
Me: I... I kinda really massively want to travel to Italy instead...
Dad: Japanese is your main language, though.
Me: Yes but... well, Italy is beautiful and the language is amazing and I love pasta and they have so much art and everyone I know who has traveled loved Italy and if I went to Italy then everything would be Italian and nothing would hurt-
Dad: Look, I understand. Sort of. Well, I can try to understand, and I still think you should go to Japan. Wasn't Japanese -> English translations your ambition? Do you love Italian television and media enough to translate it?
Me: ...Stop being logical. I want to go to Italy. Damn it.
I've stopped cleaning my room and now I feel guilty. But I am a sentimental fool and don't want to throw everything out. Like birthday cards! I hate throwing them out. I get like, 10 a year, and I feel the urge to collect every single one.
I had to take the cash out (found another $50 note!!! Grandma ily), close my eyes, throw the card away and pretend that it didn't happen. Yeah.
18th birthday in 5 months and 11 days. I'd better get a lot of cash from that one. Loljks I'd rather not have a birthday at all. I feel so old. Aren't I supposed to start worrying about age when I'm 30 or 40? I don't want to have responsibility and stuff. I want to be a child forever.
DAMN IT DOWNLOAD HELPER. THE LAST VIDEO THAT WORKED WAS OVER 150 MBS. THIS ONE IS ONLY 6. I AM NOT A FOOL. I KNOW THAT YOU ARE LYING. YOU DO NOT LIVE UP TO YOUR NAME. YOU ARE NOT HELPING. YOU'RE BARELY EVEN DOWNLOADING.
My desktop wall paper is of the Master Sword. I wish I could delete all memories of the Zelda franchise so that I can re-experience it all over again. That would be amazing.
Everyone who has ever been in a fandom needs to read this. Yes. This. Let me post it once more: http://hesychasm.livejournal.com/187818.html
"Fandom is focus. Fandom is obsession. Fandom is insatiable consumption. Fandom is sitting for hours in front of a TV screen a movie screen a computer screen with a comic book a novel on your lap. Fandom is eyestrain and carpal tunnel syndrome and not enough exercise and staying up way, way past your bedtime."
"[...]Fandom could never be just a phase. Fandom is where you found a friend, a sister, a kindred spirit. Fandom is where you found a talent, a love, a reason.
Fandom is where you found yourself."
Yes yes yes.
Hey soulmate let me love you~
I think Fandom is where I discovered other people just like me, and that probably got me through the hell that was year 8 and year 10.
Really. I don't think anything, or anyone, else could have helped as much as the strangers I'd met on the internet.
That seems strange. Oh well. What, pray tell, is 'normal'? Why focus on the supposedly normal things? It's the strange oddities in life that make it interesting, no?
Pfft I'm going into a weird, almost-but-not-quite-philosophical mood. I'm going to stop before I start ranting or writing weird things. Oh no, your subconscious is showing.
I shall return to cleaning my room. I'd proof-read this but I will realise how totally random and terrible it is, and then it won't get posted. So if you see any grammatical errors, or spelling errors, or just errors in general, then please, get the fuck over it. K thanks ^^
Blow into this paperbag, go home, stop grinning at everyone.
Paperbag Writer - Radiohead♥♪
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 2, 2011
I Should Be Used to All This
Me: Hey, Grandma (Dad's mum) sent a postcard to Dad from Canada. I wonder why it didn't arrive with ours?
Mum: I didn't get one.
Me: ...mm.
Mum: Fucking rude bitch.
Me: Excuse me? She isn't your mother.
Mum: That's hardly the point.
Oh for God's sake, woman. Your husband's mother sent him a postcard. Get over it. Your jealousy knows no bounds.
You know, I can understand her being upset. But, really, I don't want to hear her swearing about other family members. Being family, I feel like I need to defend them. But then I'd be defending them from another family member, which makes me feel like I'm taking sides. I don't want to do that.
Still cleaning my room. I have newfound inspiration to throw everything out, now. When I can afford to move out, I won't need to worry about packing, because I'll have very little. That's the plan. Brb shoving all the junk in my cupboard into a garbage bag.
I really think the main thing that keeps me going is the fact that one day, I can move out. I know she'll sob and ask me to stay. I know she'll pretend that the last few years were of no consequence. That's fine. I'll still leave.
The thing that keeps me going is that, one day, I'll be able to turn to her and say fuck you. I'm not putting up with your bullshit anymore and leave.
Pffft I can hear her talking to Dad about me now. This should annoy me but I'm bitching about her too so whatever.
I think Dad's defending me. ♥
...I shouldn't blog when in a bad mood. It just turns out whiny and emo-sounding. My day wasn't that bad. I have a terrible headache and my motivation for school still hasn't returned, but... well, it didn't completely suck.
On another note, some guy was hitting on me at the shops today. I was waiting for Mum and he came and sat next to me. I could've moved away, but I didn't want to be rude, and he was a big, scary guy and I kinda wanted to stay as still as possible and hope he didn't notice me (oh, fear, how little sense you make). So I didn't move. He decided to talk to me.
All I learnt about him was that he plays football and is currently here on a visa. The rest of the conversation was, unfortunately, centred on me. He asked me a bunch of questions (we didn't have a proper conversation. I was a little too terrified to say much) like "what are you studying", " have you ever traveled" and "do you have a boyfriend".
Me: No.
Him: Why not?
Me: Ah... I don't know. They don't like me? Heh, nah, I dunno, I guess it's not really a good time to focus on relationships anyway.
Him: Yeah, I guess. I bet you're too good for them anyway. Hey, do you have facebook? Can I add you?
...er.
I mean, I feel flattered. He spoke to me for a whole hour about... well, everything. For no reason. It was... odd, but nice. I still feel kinda creeped out that this guy just started talking to me though.
The end of the conversation was kinda fun.
Him: You're quiet.
Me: Hm? Ah, sorry.
Him: Are you scared of me?
Me: ...uh? I, um, not... not really. It's just... I don't talk to strangers often. I don't know what to say.
Him: You can say anything to me. I do understand though.
Me: Hm. It's kinda awkward.
Him: Yeah. A little.
This is why I'll never be able to pick up guys. Never.
Mum: I didn't get one.
Me: ...mm.
Mum: Fucking rude bitch.
Me: Excuse me? She isn't your mother.
Mum: That's hardly the point.
Oh for God's sake, woman. Your husband's mother sent him a postcard. Get over it. Your jealousy knows no bounds.
You know, I can understand her being upset. But, really, I don't want to hear her swearing about other family members. Being family, I feel like I need to defend them. But then I'd be defending them from another family member, which makes me feel like I'm taking sides. I don't want to do that.
Still cleaning my room. I have newfound inspiration to throw everything out, now. When I can afford to move out, I won't need to worry about packing, because I'll have very little. That's the plan. Brb shoving all the junk in my cupboard into a garbage bag.
I really think the main thing that keeps me going is the fact that one day, I can move out. I know she'll sob and ask me to stay. I know she'll pretend that the last few years were of no consequence. That's fine. I'll still leave.
The thing that keeps me going is that, one day, I'll be able to turn to her and say fuck you. I'm not putting up with your bullshit anymore and leave.
Pffft I can hear her talking to Dad about me now. This should annoy me but I'm bitching about her too so whatever.
I think Dad's defending me. ♥
...I shouldn't blog when in a bad mood. It just turns out whiny and emo-sounding. My day wasn't that bad. I have a terrible headache and my motivation for school still hasn't returned, but... well, it didn't completely suck.
On another note, some guy was hitting on me at the shops today. I was waiting for Mum and he came and sat next to me. I could've moved away, but I didn't want to be rude, and he was a big, scary guy and I kinda wanted to stay as still as possible and hope he didn't notice me (oh, fear, how little sense you make). So I didn't move. He decided to talk to me.
All I learnt about him was that he plays football and is currently here on a visa. The rest of the conversation was, unfortunately, centred on me. He asked me a bunch of questions (we didn't have a proper conversation. I was a little too terrified to say much) like "what are you studying", " have you ever traveled" and "do you have a boyfriend".
Me: No.
Him: Why not?
Me: Ah... I don't know. They don't like me? Heh, nah, I dunno, I guess it's not really a good time to focus on relationships anyway.
Him: Yeah, I guess. I bet you're too good for them anyway. Hey, do you have facebook? Can I add you?
...er.
I mean, I feel flattered. He spoke to me for a whole hour about... well, everything. For no reason. It was... odd, but nice. I still feel kinda creeped out that this guy just started talking to me though.
The end of the conversation was kinda fun.
Him: You're quiet.
Me: Hm? Ah, sorry.
Him: Are you scared of me?
Me: ...uh? I, um, not... not really. It's just... I don't talk to strangers often. I don't know what to say.
Him: You can say anything to me. I do understand though.
Me: Hm. It's kinda awkward.
Him: Yeah. A little.
This is why I'll never be able to pick up guys. Never.
Jul 24, 2011
Cleanin' Out My Closet
An Eminem reference. Bet you guys weren't expecting that.
I'm not really cleaning out my closet, actually. I'm cleaning out behind my desk. It's almost empty now, so I'll be able to move my desk over a bit and create some more room. I've saved my old school books (as I would love to burn them when I graduate) but most everything else is going.
I found a good 4 or 5 gift cards down there. Feels good. I should go shopping.
It's weird to be cleaning out my room at all, though. Normally I need to be forced to. I have two reasons for cleaning out behind my desk though.
1. The stuff behind my desk is below my window. Unfortunately, every morning there is a lot of condensation on the window from the night before, so I end up with everything behind the desk getting pretty wet and gross. It's a good thing to move all my stuff away from there, I think.
2. I want to eventually clean out my entire room. So much so that I can fit everything into three suitcases at maximum.
This'll take awhile. I'm not moving out for at least a year and a half, but I figure I'll get started. Once the desk is clean, I'll start emptying out the small shelves. Once I deal with that, I'll find my way into the cupboard.
...which is a scary thought. It's full of stuff. And I mean full. It's quite scary. But I'll have to go empty it out eventually.
I want to make my room fit into three suitcases because I'm sick of having all this stuff I won't use. I'm a hoarder, and I'd like to try and contain my hoarding tendencies at least a little bit. It'll make it easier to move out too, of course.
If I can fit everything into three suitcases, then I can literally take everything with me when I study abroad. So, you know... if I decide not to return... heh.
Jokes aside, I do want my room to be emptier.
Suitcase 1 will have clothes in it.
Suitcase 2 will have random junk. ie: my Nintendo figurines, my video games, my posters and my laptop.
Suitcase 3 will have whatever didn't fit into the first 2.
It saddens me to say that I'm not going to worry too much about instruments. The alto sax, which has been my baby for 7 years now, is not the most portable thing I own. I'll try to keep it as long as possible, but I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that I'll continue playing it forever. I won't. The clarinet is easier to take around, and I could fit it into my awesome suitcases, but I've never been as enamored by the clari. Not to the same extent as my love for the saxophone.
I think the biggest reason that I want to fit my life into a few suitcases is because my aunt actually traveled around Europe with one suitcase. No home. Nothing but what was in her bag and the cash she had on hand. Well, she had savings back here in Aus, but she didn't want to depend on that while she traveled. She had no plans. She stayed where she wanted for as long as she wanted, and when she started to feel tired of a place she'd just get up and leave. I love that idea. Just... roaming. Nowhere to go, no obligations... the only issue with that is that she ran out of cash while in Portugal. She ended up getting back to England and getting a job so she could afford to come back here. Even so, I've always adored that about her. She was able to leave everything behind her and just see where her heart took her.
I mentioned this to Dad, and he quoted Janis Joplin. "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose".
Random subject change here. Someone I care about was on MSN yesterday. Drunk. Lainey messaged me telling me that she had no idea what to do, so I spoke to him via the internet. We had some... interesting conversations, actually. It seems that, while his spelling abilities drop significantly when intoxicated, he still manages to say some really intelligent things. And some really, really depressing things.
What do you do when someone you care about seems content enough at school, and yet admits (with the help of alcohol) that he well and truly isn't? He apologised today for everything, and it was awkward after that.
Do I bring it up again? Do I ask him if I can help in anyway? Do I confront him despite how awkward it could be? Or should I save both him and myself the embarrassment and pretend it never happened?
I don't know.
I'm not really cleaning out my closet, actually. I'm cleaning out behind my desk. It's almost empty now, so I'll be able to move my desk over a bit and create some more room. I've saved my old school books (as I would love to burn them when I graduate) but most everything else is going.
I found a good 4 or 5 gift cards down there. Feels good. I should go shopping.
It's weird to be cleaning out my room at all, though. Normally I need to be forced to. I have two reasons for cleaning out behind my desk though.
1. The stuff behind my desk is below my window. Unfortunately, every morning there is a lot of condensation on the window from the night before, so I end up with everything behind the desk getting pretty wet and gross. It's a good thing to move all my stuff away from there, I think.
2. I want to eventually clean out my entire room. So much so that I can fit everything into three suitcases at maximum.
This'll take awhile. I'm not moving out for at least a year and a half, but I figure I'll get started. Once the desk is clean, I'll start emptying out the small shelves. Once I deal with that, I'll find my way into the cupboard.
...which is a scary thought. It's full of stuff. And I mean full. It's quite scary. But I'll have to go empty it out eventually.
I want to make my room fit into three suitcases because I'm sick of having all this stuff I won't use. I'm a hoarder, and I'd like to try and contain my hoarding tendencies at least a little bit. It'll make it easier to move out too, of course.
If I can fit everything into three suitcases, then I can literally take everything with me when I study abroad. So, you know... if I decide not to return... heh.
Jokes aside, I do want my room to be emptier.
Suitcase 1 will have clothes in it.
Suitcase 2 will have random junk. ie: my Nintendo figurines, my video games, my posters and my laptop.
Suitcase 3 will have whatever didn't fit into the first 2.
It saddens me to say that I'm not going to worry too much about instruments. The alto sax, which has been my baby for 7 years now, is not the most portable thing I own. I'll try to keep it as long as possible, but I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that I'll continue playing it forever. I won't. The clarinet is easier to take around, and I could fit it into my awesome suitcases, but I've never been as enamored by the clari. Not to the same extent as my love for the saxophone.
I think the biggest reason that I want to fit my life into a few suitcases is because my aunt actually traveled around Europe with one suitcase. No home. Nothing but what was in her bag and the cash she had on hand. Well, she had savings back here in Aus, but she didn't want to depend on that while she traveled. She had no plans. She stayed where she wanted for as long as she wanted, and when she started to feel tired of a place she'd just get up and leave. I love that idea. Just... roaming. Nowhere to go, no obligations... the only issue with that is that she ran out of cash while in Portugal. She ended up getting back to England and getting a job so she could afford to come back here. Even so, I've always adored that about her. She was able to leave everything behind her and just see where her heart took her.
I mentioned this to Dad, and he quoted Janis Joplin. "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose".
Random subject change here. Someone I care about was on MSN yesterday. Drunk. Lainey messaged me telling me that she had no idea what to do, so I spoke to him via the internet. We had some... interesting conversations, actually. It seems that, while his spelling abilities drop significantly when intoxicated, he still manages to say some really intelligent things. And some really, really depressing things.
What do you do when someone you care about seems content enough at school, and yet admits (with the help of alcohol) that he well and truly isn't? He apologised today for everything, and it was awkward after that.
Do I bring it up again? Do I ask him if I can help in anyway? Do I confront him despite how awkward it could be? Or should I save both him and myself the embarrassment and pretend it never happened?
I don't know.
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