The New Man;;

I'm obsessed with the new guy in my life.


He's got this spiky-ish black hair, to-die-for blue eyes and he's about 50 centimetres long.


He's also one week and six days old. And my little brother.





I went to visit him last weekend - he's beautiful.


And I'll alwaysss love you; Riley Harrison :)




He doesn't tend to do much - he sleeps, drinks and then curls up on my chest like a frog to go to sleep. And I don't care at all, because he's sublime.

<3

Thankful Sundays;

Sunday mornings and I decide to be thankful.
For everything in the past week that has made me smile.
So here I sit, and try to list, the things I love about the week that I've had.

Good luck texts in the early hours of the morning because I freak out and stress over the most insignificant things. I blame the IB.

Learning to play speed in the ELC and then playing in the Red Room.

Eating those chips and balancing coke glasses on card decks.

Ripping the ten of diamonds.

Laughing at Archie's choice of calzone; mushrooms, ham and artichoke.

Bus rides that are quiet and snuggling in their warmth.

Nicknames. The cute little ones.

After five hours of video editing, finally finishing the assignment.

Dancing with Isabelle in the dark :)

Catching buses at night, when stars are out and people seem dastardly.

Hearing the word 'calamity' and 'larrikin' and 'drank a monkey' in normal conversation.

SLC computer tables.

Statistics envy; we had the most facilitating tutor :)

Finding a friend in a room full of strangers.

Topping up my go card via the internet.

Great court.

Old favourite juice with orange and passionfruit.

Gabby in eight o'clock lectures, and Erin in eight o'clock tutes.

Comfy jeans, Peter Alexander pyjamas.

Stray flowers.

Picking Katelyn up from school and her asking me if I had two steering wheels.

Paige cuddles, that snuggly smell when she falls asleep in your arms.

Ella playing snap, and finding matches by saying "Bluee!".

Smiles.





And the little fact that I'm swimming with a dolphin on Wednesday :)

Dino-bees;

A simple question.

Why would one be stupid enough to climb into a polar bear enclosure? Because of course, they're fluffy and look like teddy bears, so they're not going to rip your throat out, even though they're carnivorous animals. *smacks head*

The only animal I'd climb into an enclosure to be with would be something small and cuddlesome -- a merpanda would fit the bill perfectly :)

Chocolate breakfasts.

But the important thing is that today is the only day all year where it is acceptable, all around the world, to eat chocolate for breakfast. And so I did :).

I want to be one of the oceanic six, because now I know what they are. And after many months of wondering, I've discovered the secret. :) Thank-you, thank-you screwed up video tape.

A rambling of sorts, that's all today's blog post is.

And so I bid you adieu, to you and you and you.

<3

Foreign Languages and Stolen Bicycles;

Ribosomes. Chromosomes. Nucleosomes.
A language foreign to me.
Text books large enough to swallow me whole.
Not unless you know the secrets.
Secrets to unlock the hidden language.

In a hole in the ground,
I leave my identity outside with my muddy shoes.
My face hidden, and my soul and secrets too,
My protection is the mask I wear outside.
A mask of relentless uncaring,
Without promise or faith.

Will you save me from this dark despair?
Because right now, the only one I can turn to is PCR.
And it's just not helpful.

I wish my name was Celestine,
Because I would be buried in the snow, just waiting for Ernest.
Would you save me? Or leave me to be soaked through, beneath the apple tree?
Rotten to the core, I know the truth.

You came by on a stolen bicycle, and made me smile.
Because Narnie sat in front of Webb. And Tate chose rock, so Lily died.
Because Fitz rode by, and Jude trampled the poppies.
But when they all came back together, it was for the house made of gopher wood.
Like Noah's ark, by the river.
A home for them, and their families.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

Pudding;

Take me here; to Pudding Cup Palace.

Why do I not have some of this chocolate-y goodness?

It's like the Taj Mahal, but better.

Pudding makes the world a better place.

Doubt my judgement? Just ask Lorelai Gilmore, she'll tell you.

Lopsided Smiles;

I missed the cut-off date.
It's not that big a deal, only 5%.
But it's chemistry of all things.
So i'm cutting myself up about it.
Not literally, because literally cutting myself would make me feel overly nauseous.
But figuratively, I feel horrible.
A physical pain for a mental ailment.

I have wonderful friends.
Friends who try to cheer me up with a story about a girl called April who narrowly escaped a pack of wolves on the beach after she fell down a hole. Or friends who try to help me forget. Or friends who find me my new favourite songs that aren't quite uplifting enough to get me out of this funk. The find The Wombats, Kimya Dawson, Michael Buble. They suggest kit-kats or alphabet bags or even the reminder of my birthday, too close for comfort.

To tell the truth I'm actually scared of the barrier, between seventeen and eighteen. I don't want to be an adult. I'm immature and a little weird but hopefully slightly loveable. I don't want to be responsible today. Or tomorrow. I have only 18 days, of which to learn wisdom and truth and responsibility.

But let me shirk that all for one more day, and I'll beat myself up over a missed CMT deadline and then tomorrow, I'll pick up my new alphabet bag and my books and wear my favourite jeans and hopefully tomorrow will be better than today. Which is mightily possible.

A honey-scented world, free blossoms falling, the first steps of an infant, cradle-cap.
Dancing in a world of bumble-bees, pudding cups, bear-shaped vitamins.

Call me tomorrow, when I arrive from the moon.
On a rocketship made of scrap metal and spare tyres.
Call me tomorrow, when I return to my home,
And tomorrow, smiling will be the chore.

N.
Blanche, you do not fail.
I understand. And I wish I could be.
Josh Groban-style, I appreciate your effort.
Fannypacks are my favourite measure of value.

Blood, Flesh and Bone.

Today, I spend the day yelling at inanimate objects.

Firstly my computer, because it kept logging off every time I switched on the webcam. Then I yelled at my spoon for falling onto the floor. And then I decided to yell at Ausiello's website becuase it hasn't revealed to me who is getting married on the 100th episode of Grey's Anatomy.

It was tumultuous day for all involved.

And of course, when you do something you find fun (as I find yelling at inanimate objects), you search facebook and find the perfect group to join.

Which of course I did: "I Yell At Inanimate Objects".

And the perfect group lead me to my new all-time favourite comic: Toothpaste for Dinner.

I have a few confessions to make.

This morning, whilst I was supposed to be doing my prac report on dung beetles I instead did the following:

Consumed a cup of frozen raspberries and a chocolate croissant.

Tried seven times to find the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy on youtube.

Watched three episodes of '90210' on www.ch131.com.

Searched manically for the Brady Bunch movie and then proceeded to watch forty-three minutes of it.

Brushed my teeth twice, and my hands three times.

Arranged my books in order, according to author.

Took two quizzes on facebook, one about my OCD-ness and one about which GA character am I.

Speculated about an impending Cristina-Owen pregnancy and/or marriage.

Looked at Emma's pictures of Paige :) .

Remembered what happened on Thursday, and shuddered.

Felt undeniably sorry for Adrianna and Silver. Oh and Tai, even though he's a scumbagg.

And last, but not least, I googled the Cupcake Parlour.

My lack of conscientiousness is not to be laughed at, but pitied.

I've fallen out of the routine of needing to do things.

And while I like spending time doing nothing, I need to get moving.

On the flip-side, I'm looking forward to dance class on Tuesday.

Last Tuesday was brutal, but I love seeing Monique and Lucy and Biz :).

--- she's blood, flesh and bone. no tucks or silicone. she's touch, smell, sight, taste and sound.

I wish I were fancy-free as well.

N.

goodbye my watermelon-coloured friend

pudding cup.

At Long Last;

Today is Friday.
I am ecstatic.

While I was in the bathroom at uni today, I found a limerick scrawled onto a tile above the "Save Water" sticker that UQ fastens to all it's sinks. The same limerick that Hugh Grant said, loudly, in a row boat next to none other than Bridget Jones. I laughed and the girl standing next to me looked at me like I was a flea. But I didn't care, the limerick was worth it.

And then this afternoon, I spent three hours listening to my tutor explain gel electrophoresis.
I think, that at SMT, we did that on average once a term. And thus, my afternoon was boring.
More boring than you could possibly imagine.
And for some reason, my lab partner seems to have an aversion to brushing his teeth.
Which is entirely off-putting.
Eurgh.

But now it is the weekend, and I plan to spend 130 smackeroonies on a bag covered in alphabet letters and watch as much as possible on ch131.com

N.

Lie to Me;

Usually, I hate lies. But today, of all days, lie to me.

It's one of those days where I don't want to handle the truth and I'd rather lie, shrouded in my fairytale-esque dreams of a childhood long past.

So lie to me, and for this one moment, I will be forever grateful.

<3

Sensations;

I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach today.
The one that I get when I drive over roadkill, or I lie to somebody I care about. I get that feeling when I turn corners too fast, without breaking and the car is suddenly heavy beneath my hands. When you know you're about to throw up but there's nowhere to run. Or when you drive by a cop car, and you know that you're going over the speed limit.

So I got that feeling and I'm not sure how to get rid of it.
I tried driving, with track 12 on repeat. But it worked until the song ended.
I was fine for 2 minutes and 43 seconds, but now the feeling has returned.
And I think, that this feeling can't be drowned with ice-cold water or neapolitan ice-cream, or even the milk chocolate chips that I found in the freezer the other day.

I feel as though I'm a weird version of Mary Poppins, I want to grab an umbrella and float through the wind to a new place, where I can just jump through chalk drawings and laugh on the ceiling of my uncle's house with Bert. Why don't I have a friend called Bert?

So unless I can find an umbrella with a scary amount of tassels, I will be stuck with this gnawing feeling for the rest of my days. Or at least until I wake up tomorrow.

Oh, and Blanche, if you read this; you're the first message, and the jealousy.
But I don't think you'll read this, and so my secret is safe for at least one more day.

<3

Blackbirds and Hopscotch.

Blackbird singing in the dead of nighttt;

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.

I spent today reminiscing about my fairytale childhood with Caitie. I've known her since she was two, and scratching people if she didn't get her way. Now she's not two anymore, and neither am I, and that scares me horribly. I can still remember when she used to eat cake batter and get it splattered all over her cheeks. And I'd laugh and she'd look at me with this questioning glance.

And so we talked about dancing in rain gutters and trying to run up trees. The days in Summer where we spent all afternoon in the pool, trying our hardest to splash everybody while still looking innocent. Eating playdough when we thought nobody was looking and then trying to steal passionfruit off the neighbours fence. Walking over the rocks at Lamberts Beach and almost falling over. Scraping our knees and laughing about it. Playing 'Survivor' and pushing each other off the tube. Cooking blue pancakes with strawberries and watching FunnyBones and Fireman Sam.

The rest of my day was spent writing my Ethics Review. A far cry from my EE, it's only 500 words and slightly pathetic. But no matter how much I tell myself it's okay to not know how to write a philosophy paper, I still get nervous. I don't like not being perfect, I don't like failure, I don't like being the stupid one.

Tree climbing, cicada hunting. Cat chasing. Hiding under the boat and inside the car. Pretending. Dress-ups. Chalk drawings. Hopscotch on the driveways of life.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these swollen eyes and try to see. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.

On a parting note, I would like to assure Sean Penn that I do indeed like green eggs and ham, thank-you thank-you Sam I am.

--- change of heart

I know;

I've decided that all in all, I am no more than a list of facts, questions and realisations. So, whilst I decide who I am, I write what I know.

I know:

That you should brake into a corner, and accelerate out of it.
That preschoolers eat the cheese before the crackers.
That it's okay to wear your pyjamas all day, as long as nobody sees you.
That you can't shave your legs properly without bending your knee.
That in order to do a jette, you must stretch first.
That jack-jumps are impossibly hard for an inflexible person such as myself.
That I would die for a few select people.
That I would rather live in Paris than almost anywhere else overseas.
That the first fifteen digits of pi are inscribed into my brain forever.
That nerd school is the best place to be.
That when you're in Mexico, you should purchase a bullet-proof vest.
That reality TV is not the demise of the world, merely the cure.
That you have to cook Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese for three minutes and forty seconds.
That people who eat red meat are more likely to die of cancer than those who don't.
That Thursday nights have the best television.
That Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd are the perfect, dreamy-haired, couple.
That satin pillowcases are too cold in Winter, and too hot in Summer.
That flannelette pyjamas are the most comforting while eating soup.
That Sizzler makes the best cheese bread.
That Doctor Spencer Reed is the most attractive nerd in the universe.
That jasmine smells best at dusk and dawn.
That the beach is most beautiful at midnight.
That the hours between twelve and one at night are the 'witching hours'.
That I can not hula hoop to save my life.
That nephrons have afferent and efferent arterioles, the afferent above the efferent.
That Carmex solves any problems that you may have.
That to ward off witches, you stay within a circle of salt.
That if I were part of a reality show, it would be 'The Contenders; Series 7'.
That the Saw movies are less scary due to the lack of reality.
That strawberry roll-ups get stuck in your teeth more than blackberry roll-ups.
That my cat is secretly a Dibbuk.
That I would rather eat snails than sausages.
That gardenias smell like heaven and vanilla.
That you can only go to HJ's on a Friday, with a group of at least six people sharing one drink.
That the original SMT kids will always be the best.
That Disneyland will always be the happiest place on earth.
That beer tastes remarkably better if you drink it very quickly.
That hopscotch only works on driveways.
That only two electrons fit inside a single orbital.
That there are only two books in the world that make me cry.
That giant rainbow lollipops taste better if you share.
That if you tuck the hem of your dress a certain way, you can hang upside down for hours.
That there are four packets of tissues in my LaLou handbag.
That I can still play 'Fur Elise' on piano.
That I can do a backward somersault, and a french kick-jump.
That Lucy did not have a haircut today.
That someday soon we will be able to grow stem cells into organs.
That Brisbane City Council buses always run late, and never early.

This is what I know, a summation of my life's work.
What I tell you three times is true.


Joey never met a bike that he didn't want to ride.
And I never met a Toby that I didn't like.
Scotty liked all of the books that I recommended.
Even if he didn't, I wouldn't be offended.

Unremarkably;

Oh, and on a particularly unrelated point, tomorrow it is exactly one month until I join the realm of adulthood. Of cocktails, sophistication, gambling and dancing in all hours of the night.

adieu.

Scrabble and Fannypacks;

A dreary Sunday, dung beetles and a cat who pretends to be ninja-like.

My new favourite website would have to be:

http://www.thekatespanos.com/scrabble-score-calculator/

Where else would I learn that my name is worth 13 points. That Jason Wylie's name is worth 73 points. And that, most importantly, FANNYPACK (on a triple word score naturally), is worth 119. Scrabble is the backboard of society, the most elementary of all boardgames, my dear Watson. This is, of course, due to the attractiveness of good grammar in the opposite sex.

This weekend has been one of many surprises.
I met up with a great friend whom I haven't seen since I was in the second grade and the only thing that I could remember about her was the great times we used to have, sitting outside her kitchen. I can remember that we used to catch lizards and hide them in a bucket and then poke them with sticks, pretending to give them needles. And then we were markedly surprised when the lizards began to bleed and die and then, with the naive and insensitivity that only children can possess, we tipped them out of the bucket and went off in search of a more hardy and strong lizard, able to withstand our 'doctoring'.
And then I spent the most of today wandering the house, trying to find a spot where I could scribble on the walls and my mother would not then proceed to skin me alive. Why is it that all the cool parents have children who appear in my favourite photographs?



After giving up on my dream of drawing on my bedroom walls, I spent my time instead surfing youtube for those things that give me great comfort; snatches of Grey's Anatomy and songs of love and dreams and spectacular wishes. And so tomorrow, whilst I spend three hours identifying dung beetles, I shall keep in my mind the uplifting memories of Mary Poppins, the musical version, with which I fell in love whilst strolling around West End in London, and the lyrics of a particularly lyricist who keeps me holding my breath.

Thank you Priscilla Ahn. Because along with you,

I was a little girl alone in my little world, who dreamed of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves,
and laughed in my pretty bed of green

Here I lay, until the alarm goes off and reality hits and I am left with nothing more than a smattering of personal babble and a sparking electrical cord.

Thank you for this moment, this moment is my lifee.

Of Cabbages and Kings;

My list of dreams, to complete before my assumingly untimely demise.

-- Become a mother.
-- Save a life.
-- Sleep under the Eiffel Tower.

-- Own a first edition of Harry Potter.

-- Marry a man who makes me weak at the knees.
-- Drive a Ferrari.
-- Read Marcel Proust.
-- Take a road trip.
-- Visit every Disneyland.
-- Live in a house with a white picket fence.
-- Write a novel.
-- Be overwhelmingly happy.
-- Make a difference to somebody's life.
-- Have my own library.
-- Be fluent in Spanish.
-- Learn to cook lasagne.
-- Fly first-class to somewhere exotic.
-- Take surfing lessons.'
-- Be able to identify more than six star constellations.
-- Have a picnic in the rain.
-- Kiss under the fireworks.
-- Fall in a river.
-- Wear pyjamas to McDonalds.
-- Own a pair of Apple Bottom Jeans.
-- Learn to cartwheel.
-- Go on a Parisian carousel.
-- Have a lick, sip, suck Tequila night.
-- Watch all five Saw movies in a row.
-- Jump into a pile of leaves.
-- Ice-skate at the Rockefeller City.
-- Lie and not get caught.
-- Live. Laugh. Love.

Items that have been checked off;

-- Eat an oyster.
-- Travel around Europe.
-- Own Peter Alexander pyjamas.
-- Do a backward somersault.
-- Spell curse words with alphabet-spaghetti.
-- Send a message in a bottle.
-- Play 'Fur Elise' on piano.
-- Pass IB Chemistry.
-- Laugh until I cry.


Until next time, when the clock strikes one and I can believe in impossible things.
I leave you with this quote by the somewhat infamous Lewis Carroll.

"There is no use trying," said Alice. "One can't believe impossible things."
"I dare say you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why sometimes I believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."


<3