Saturday, January 30, 2010

This ship is in the harbour

In the less than 16 days, I'm going to be known as what is commonly referred to as... Uni student. And I'm terrified. You know crying on the inside. Not that dramatic but you get the gist. At the moment I'm not really nervous, but I'm afraid that I'll get there and then suddenly WHAM! it'll whack me in the gut and I'll be a nervous wreck. You see I actually gave the boarding school thing a shot at the young age of 15 and the exact thing happened to me. I was getting my stuff into the shared room and suddenly it all hit. I don't know these girls, what was I thinking, I'M FOUR HOURS AWAY FROM MY HOME! 6 months later I'm home and safe, but I think you understand the reservations I might have about moving away again. Obviously things have changed. I mean maturity, independence, adulthood. Anyway. What can you do? Noooot much.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

I just don't know what to do with myself...

Men... yes a veyr cliche problem, however I'm a fairly cliche kinda gal. So lets just say I've never had great success with boys - translation... I've never had a relationship. 18 years old, it's almost abnormal these days. The problem I have with boys is that I see them as a foreign species. One that has its own sarcatic language, presentation and the way in which the view the human body. Now this foreigness that I feel makes me fiercely shy. No seriously... looking at the ground - DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT shy. And yet I crave a relationship. I mean c'mon it's about time anyway. 18 year drought haha, how would you feel all you people who've 'been there done that'!? I don't know. I have this pre determined kind of epiphany. One day I'll just wake up and I'll be completely content with the male species - aka I'll see them as equals, not as aliens from Uranus. Haha couldn't help myself hehe... Uranus.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Would you just look at it...

As I sit here blogging, I really want to write something meaningful, but all I have is generic 18 year old queries and beliefs in my head. Although I'm quite quiet when I want to be, and some may see me to be someone who sits back, and just goes with the flow, I have always had a strong refusal to not be categorised, especially with people my own age. For example, considering I'm from a small country town in the Australia, it isn't too hard to be different fashion wise, because well, everyone basically wears the same thing. I purposely go out of my way to find different trends, search the World wide web and Op shops in order to come up with something that says 'hey I'm different don't mess with me'. It may not come off that way, but geez it makes me feel original. So this blog is celebrating the individuality within everyone and the unexplainable determination within everyone of us to prove ourselves... to be free from constriction. As Cecil Beaton says:

"Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary."

Saturday, January 2, 2010

I hope you're enjoying your Sunday afternoon as much as I am...

My friend's Xmas lights

My new summer hat

My parapluie revel - thanks Mum!

My mad Typo clock.

Beautiful, philosophical, enlightening Frankie

I'm grateful for the small things...

Friday, January 1, 2010

Loving Pretty in Pink like 25 years later.

You cannot forget the Duck man.


OK, so now is the time... at the ripe age of 18 (woah) to come clean. I am absolutely terrified of the night. Yes I said. You may laugh, you may go 'Oh my God, so am I' or you may say 'Sweet Baby Jesus this girl psychiatric assistance!'. But ever since I was about 10 and would come home after school and secretly watch 'The last of the Mohican's' with Daniel Day Lewis, I have had the greatest fear of a person, entity of the demonic tendency or a ghost coming into my house to disturb my mostly calm existence. Now don't get me wrong, I have a firm grip on reality, however my imagination has a firmer grip on the inner child within me that absorbs every noise, ghost story or scary film. And it doesn't help that my family has left for Cronulla for a couple of days, leaving me to work in my casual shoe shop job... and alone in our big, 90 year old, three generations ago house that creaks and stores possums in its roof. I mean most 18 year olds would be like 'heck yes, party at mine', but I am sooo the opposite. I even check under my bed, in my closet and behind the curtains. Yes, yes it's true.