I dislike when someone asks me something too personal. Our family used to be really close to this other family we met at church. Yep – the ol’ family friends. I tend to have a severe hate for most of them, because of their intrusive questions.

The thing about family friends is that they’re halfway between family and friends – or something like that. Your family is close to you, and any of your relatives you would feel fine with discussing most private topics. Friends are the same, and when you become closer friends, you might talk about things more openly.

So, my mum began to dislike this family friend because she used us, and was really rude.

Once, when my mum was taking care of my brother as a baby, she knocked on our door and right there and then, asked my mum if she could pick up her daughter from school. She usually walks. But what was her excuse?

“I don’t want her to get sick in this heat, and it’s really hot.”

My mum answered, “I’m really busy, can’t you see that?” Apparently she was changing nappies on my younger brother.

“Oh that’s okay, I’ll ask your husband,” she said, and made her way into the driveway where my dad was fixing the car. This is just going from what my mum told me, but that was just rude.

Another time, she asked my mum, straight out, what our mortgage was. (Money left on the house, that kind of deal.) My mum didn’t want to answer and felt that it was too much of a personal question, but after hesitating she told her.

When my mum asked her the same question, she just giggled immaturely and said, “Oh, I’m not telling you that.”

When she was going to garage/boot sale down the road, and my mum just tagged along, they chatted with the mother of the family in the house. This family friend of ours was so rude. After finding out that the family was selling their old furniture since they were moving out, she asked, “So how much are you selling the house for?”

“I’m not telling you that,” was the answer she got.
“So can I have a look inside your house?” she asked.
“You’re a really, really nosey woman, you know that!” snapped the mother.

Damned bitch. I really dislike when people can be so nosey and ask such personal questions, especially to people they barely know.

I seem to get people online asking me really personal questions. I don’t mind sharing, but I suppose it’s because I am known to be an open person. I kind of do appreciate when people say, “… if you don’t mind me asking?”

In this day and age, I think that if people want to ask someone a personal question, they should at least be comfortable with revealing information about themselves to the same degree.

So, what unusually personal questions have you received?

I didn’t bring my digital camera. I know I have a camera on my iPhone but I like being able to use a proper camera because naturally, the quality is so much better, and I really like how the photos turn out compared to photos from a phone.

It was a stray pair of green gloves that someone just left on the ground. Poor gloves. Some poor person was also suffering with cold hands.

Anyway. We bought some groceries because we planned to make savoury muffins. It’s been a while since I’ve made muffins, since I’m not much of a cook. The last time I made them was in school when I was about thirteen years old. They were so delicious and from that day, I preferred savoury muffins to sweet ones.

Since we hadn’t had a proper breakfast, we had eggs. James tried to fry them but they didn’t turn out right. We ended up having scrambled eggs.

We did laundry. James apologised for it, except I didn’t see it as much of a problem. I was already grateful that we were spending time together after not seeing each other in so long. James is probably the only person who makes chores fun. Most of the time at home, chores get really lame. Don’t tell anyone that.

Our muffins turned out to be spectacular. We used mushrooms, ham, cheese, celery, and onion. Some of the ingredients we just chose on a whim. We didn’t even think of celery until the end, when we realised it was going to be super weird not having any green vegetables. And we randomly decided to put some raw salmon into some of the muffins, and we topped all the muffins with cheese.

When they came out of the oven and we tried them, they were soooooo delicious. The ones with salmon had a really interesting taste. All the muffins were delicious!

It was very fun making the muffins. I’m going to post more photos on my photoblog soon, so watch out for that.

James got me my ballet exam certificate yesterday. The one I had been waiting seven months for. Since last December when I took the exam. I feel really proud because I got Honours, the highest grade possible. For my last ballet exam too, I am so glad. And I owe James for picking it up for me.

I’m feeling really exhausted, I haven’t really gotten around to comments yet. Sorry.

I also finished reading Shadow’s Edge by Brent Weeks. It was very good. I can say that I’ve accomplished two things during this break.

Tomorrow I’ve got to go to work but I get to see James. He’s coming over for a bit before I go to work. I haven’t seen him in a really long time and I miss him. You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

My parents aren’t going to be home – my mum has some beauty training on the other side of the city and my dad’s driving her there, as well as browsing the shops and buying some Asian groceries. They’ll be home late.

I recently realised that I have not ever called in sick to work. I have never been sick on a day when I’ve had to work. I’ve always been one to have good attendance. I haven’t had anything clash with work, either, since two years ago. At the end of 2008 I took a little time off work because I had my formal/prom and wanted a break.

But nope. Since then – nearly two years – I haven’t been sick or taken a break. I guess I completely avoided anything being in the way. And it’s a good thing that I work in the afternoons, because I don’t have university classes or anything.

During high school I always attempted to get 100% attendance. It made me feel proud, as ridiculous as it was. I tried to be at school on every school day.

In university I tried to do the same, until it came to the subject Ideas in History. No doubt my university friends are laughing at how much they hated this subject too. I neglected Ryan in countless lectures because I didn’t want to attend. They were extremely dull and half the information I could pick up from the readings or my own research.

Sometimes I wish high school had been as flexible as university. Attending classes to fit your daily life, not having to attend classes all the time (you do have to attend a certain percentage of classes though), blah, blah, blah.

Oh well. In school you don’t really get to do what you want. In university you do. Maybe that’s why it’s so flexible.

Okay, random question time.

• What was the last book you read?
• What was the last movie you saw?
• What was the last song you listened to?

In Australia, primary school goes up to grade six, at which point you’d be about 12 years old, before going to high school – years 7 to 12. When it came to partner dancing in primary school, we were all ten years old. Come on. Everyone thought that everyone had “cooties”. It was ridiculous.

Obviously they were assessing us on gross motor skills, making sure we could do simple things like follow instructions and move in a certain way. In this case, dancing involved teaching us combinations of steps to help our coordination as well, at least while we were young.

Let me go with every girl’s first life lesson: boys are idiots. Okay, don’t get me wrong, when you’re all grown up they really are much less of idiots, but I’m talking about when you’re young. When you’re in kindergarten you’re all cute and hang out together, and you tend to talk more and hang out more with the opposite gender when you’re a young teenager, but there’s a gap in between where girls and boys don’t really seem to like each other.

That’s the worst time to learn partner dancing at all.

When we did partner dancing, the way I saw it was that all the girls were patient and just obeyed the teachers, holding the boys’ hands when instructed. The boys would be really rude, holding their noses away from the girls, pretending that they stunk. When the teacher walked by and made everyone hold hands, each guy would look at the girl he was dancing with before quickly glancing away. One boy would loosen his grip on a girl’s hands as the teacher turned his back, holding them by the tips of his fingers as if she were diseased. Another would simply let go of the girl’s hands, rubbing them violently on the sides of his pants as if to say, “your hands are just gross, ewww”, leaving the poor girl with her hands limp in front of her.

After one dance was finished, a boy would raise his hand and ask for the teacher’s permission to go to the toilet, to which several other boys followed suit before the teacher would yell at them to come back. Then a bunch of them would exit the toilet, blatantly shaking their hands free of water.

The girls would always be quiet. Maybe discreetly wipe their hand on the side of their dress after a dance because their partner had sweaty palms. Maybe think about washing their hands afterward. Maybe smile inside when they got to hold the hands of the boy they liked.

Maybe feel heartbroken inside when their love interest scoffed at them.

When I was eleven years old, the boy I liked had told me, “You smell like a cat, Georgina”. It hurt. It didn’t help that we were on our way to church (I went to Catholic school for some time) and I ended up being wedged between him and a boy I used to like, both of them telling me that I smelled like a cat.

Needless to say, I lost interest in that boy quickly…

Despite that, chivalry is not dead. Talk to my guy friends. That is, after they open the door for you, greet you, shake your hand and say hello. Perhaps every girl has nightmares about stupid guys… but it makes the respectful ones a lot more admirable.

I’m sick of what’s going on at home. I can’t just run away or move out – it’s not that simple. It will, as Tiffany put it, permanently destroy the relationship between my parents and I. I know there’s not much of a relationship now. But why do I have to try something that I know is not going to work? I know life is about taking risks sometimes, but when you know only too great the outcome – why take that risk? I’ve even tried talking and explaining how I feel – I’m telling you, I got shot down, only got yelled at again.

I used to be embarrassed to say that I didn’t have many friends. I’m not anymore. I don’t have many friends and I’d rather have a few close friends than a million and none of which I’m close to.

These days, self-harm rarely passes my mind. But having recovered, I am still a sensitive person. I find it offensive when someone makes references towards someone’s emotions by labelling them an “emo”, for instance. The same way I don’t like people to use the word “gay” when they could easily use the word “lame” – because “gay” can offend homosexuals.

I suppose I don’t need to say it, but I’ll say it anyway: life at home hasn’t been too great.

I’m sick and tired of being told what to do. Yes, I’m nineteen, an adult. Yes, I should be able to do what I want. Yes, my mother is strict. Yes, I’ve spent two months in my house, I’m not allowed to go out because I’m being “punished” for flamin’ nothing.

Yes, I’m tired of being called “stupid”. Yes, I’m tired of doing chores all day, every day. Yes, I want to do my own thing. It’s getting to the point where I want to wake up in the middle of the night to do online duties because all that ever happens during the day is that I get told off to do chores. Every single time I sit in my seat. Heck, I know people don’t expect me to return comments, but I feel bad if I don’t. It’s terrible when I go to sleep thinking I have ten comments left, and wake up to nearly 30. Yeah, it doesn’t seem like much, but I honestly want to say this: You try it.

It’s not fair. I feel like my mother only gets angry at me, or when she isn’t in a great mood, she ends up going off at me.

At the same time… I’m used to it. I know and can feel when it’s coming. It just sucks when it hits. But what can I do…

Thanks for hearing me ramble. I’ll tell you what I find in a good friend? A good listener. Someone who can sympathise, hold my hand or give me a hug. That’s what makes me feel better. Just someone who can listen and provide comfort.

Not the attachments in email. I know they take up a lot of room, and when you’re attaching a large photo, it takes a long time for it to attach, and even longer to send. You do have to admit that email attachments are a gem, though.

I mean emotional attachment.

I still have my Memory Box I mentioned in a previous post. It’s just a little box where I keep little memoirs and things. I don’t bother looking into it. I didn’t have a great past, and I just wanted to forget it, but I don’t know why these little things mean so much to me that I have to keep them.

I get attached to things easily. It is almost embarrassing. When James and I used to go out and eat gelato a lot, I kept all the spoons. I’d wash them and clean them but I’d keep them all. Not the way my mum reuses plastic spoons like normal spoons after cleaning them – but I’d just keep them for memory’s sake. They’re still sitting in a freaking container in my room.

Mind you, the container is from a bunch of walnuts James gave me.

Which I ate during my final exams in high school.

(Yes, we were allowed to eat during exams.)

I stopped collecting the spoons after some time. I felt like it was silly. But when it comes to more personal things, like letters, they’re things I keep. In fact, taking a peek in my Memory Box, I spotted quite a great deal of them.

It’s a little like Christmas cards and birthday cards I got throughout high school. I tossed them all in a bag and I keep them. I just simply cannot bring myself to get rid of them. Sometimes I think, “Hmm, I just keep all the stuff that means a lot to me, it’s no big deal”.

That’s when I realise I have a lot of junk in my room that doesn’t mean anything to me. School textbooks. Old CDs of music I barely even like anymore.

The worst I found – the other day I found a binder full of biology, physics, chemistry and senior science notes. They were insanely neat. Maybe that’s why I kept them, even if I have no use for them now.

Most of you know me as the girl with many domains. And too many fanlistings.

Today, I closed the fanlisting for Krist Novoselic. My first closed fanlisting. I made the decision because I don’t feel like I’m much of a fan of him anymore, and because that is one of my least liked fanlistings. I have over 100, so I felt like it was time to close one.

It was wrenching – as lame as it sounds. I have an attachment to all of my websites that when it’s time to let one go, even though I know it’s the right decision… it will almost never be the right time. Sometimes I just have to bite the bullet and freaking do it.

I think that applies to more than just emotional attachment.

In Australia you have to be eighteen years old to vote. When you turn eighteen you must enrol to vote. If you don’t vote, you could be fined… face serious consequences… you get my drift. (I’m just really tired at the moment, excuse me.)

This will be my first time voting. Also, my parents are not Australian citizens, and my brother is younger than me, so I am the first person in my family who will be voting in an election here. It sounds cool, but really, get over it. Haha.

I remember when I was in high school, people were already nearly turning eighteen. I didn’t turn eighteen until I was well into university, so I never had to bother with applications and enrolling. I do recall that most people saw voting as something unnecessary. The country does need our vote – I can understand that – but I guess a lot of us really don’t think our vote makes a difference, or that we should only vote when we want to.

In high school, a classmate said, “I don’t care, I’ll just vote for whoever.”

I couldn’t help but agree, and now I still feel the same, at least when it comes to country-wide elections. There are so many people that in retrospect, my vote is just one out of tens of thousands.

James had an idea. He said that whoever I was voting for, he would oppose, so our votes would cancel out. He then brought up the idea that we should have a large amount of people do the same: partner up with someone, and oppose your partner’s vote.

“I’d love it if it came down to one person’s decision,” he laughed.

Of course, it is a funny thought, even though it would take a lot of people, considering we’re talking about the population of Australia over eighteen who is an Australian citizen here.

Looking at it on a smaller scale… I remember trying out for prefect in high school. I was just one person out of about thirty candidates. (Mind you, I never got voted in for prefect, even if they chose a whole third of the candidates.) I asked my friends to please include me in their votes. They could choose up to ten people, meaning they could choose less people if they so wished.

A friend told me afterwards that he didn’t vote for some of the “popular” people, or people who were very likely to get in.

“Why?” I asked.
“Because they will already get a lot of votes because they’re popular. If I voted for them, I would only be increasing their chances.”

I slapped myself after that. I know sometimes we can rig the system for our own benefit, but all in all – your vote counts. Your voice counts. You are important. 8D

At the same time, I know that there are people out there who have struggled with their own body image and coming to accept it, whether they try to change it or not. It’s been common for people to say “learn to love your body”. That said, it’s much easier said than done. I don’t claim to know everything or say that I’ve been through the worst of it or anything. I guess I just wanted to share my experiences.

I’m a dancer, and though I was flexible as hell, and generally thin, I hated my stomach. When I gain weight, it all goes to my stomach. My arms and legs don’t get any bigger. I noticed this when I was little and I would always keep sucking my stomach in. At one point I even tied a belt around my waist to hold it in.

I also had crooked teeth and a partial overbite. All the teeth at the front of my mouth (mainly the bottom row) were struggling to fit themselves in, and that’s why my parents paid for my braces.

I have crooked feet. When I line up my knees, my left foot sticks out to the side. I guess it comes from being a dancer or something. I hate it because when I stand up straight, my foot just sticks out.

I used to want to be tall because I hated being short. I used to want to be a model (ROFL, not anymore, I’m telling you), but I got ignored anywhere they were looking for models because I was too short. Now I just love being short (apart from my friends ruffling my hair, pfft) because it has its advantages sometimes. I couldn’t imagine myself being taller.

Now I can say that I’m happy with the way I look, and we all have our problems every once in a while, but it really makes me smile when someone can love the way they look, be positive about it, and not be afraid to say it.

I know people who have it worse than me, of course, with weight problems or skin problems, and they get judged by how they look. That’s the underlying issue. You can’t judge someone by how they look when you don’t even know what’s going on, on the inside. We should never judge people on how they look, especially when some people have hereditary diseases that you don’t see from the outside. Some people have problems because of stress or personal problems.

In this society, we have become accustomed to think a certain way when we see certain characteristics of people. We shouldn’t. Don’t you dare judge someone on the large side and say that they know nothing about dieting. They could have been trying many diets for years. Don’t you dare judge someone who is bony for not eating enough, for they could have hyperthyroidism.

This is the reason why I dislike people telling me to “eat more fast food”. I have a high cholesterol, a fast metabolism and I get full easily. It’s a crappy combination.

• complaining
• whingeing about the smallest things that don’t really matter
• overanalysing little things such as a single line of text
• going on my iPhone to check my email as soon as I wake up
• going online before I even get breakfast (at least most of the time I make my bed first )

There’s probably only one habit I’ve ditched: hair pulling. I used to pull out a lot of my hair. I fidget a lot more than I care to say, and playing with my hair has been a real habit. I’ve twirled my hair, nibbled on it, held it between my lips, looked for split ends, rubbed it between my fingers… you get the point. Pulling out thicker hairs was a habit that I had in the past.

It got so bad that I ended up with a huge bald patch at the top of my head. James could notice it when we hugged, but he noticed when I stopped and when it started going away. My mum could even see the bald patch on top of my head.

Some habits can get pretty nasty. I’ve got a horrible eating habit of eating the whole packet when I buy lollies or chocolate. It’s hard to resist, but I’m sure many of us are like that with junk food.

I mentioned this in an old blog, but one time when we had parties in high school at the end of term, people would bring in junk food for everyone to share. One of those days, I just ate a large bunch of chocolate eclairs and lollies. I was literally sick the rest of the afternoon and James and Lilian had to feed me water and get me a paper bag because it got to the point where it was difficult to breathe. Too much sugar does that to you, I guess.

Not to mention I have a high cholesterol, which I try to keep under control… but sometimes I can’t help it. If I didn’t have a fast metabolism it would help. I’m thin and I take it for granted.

Today though, I did the dishes! I’m so proud. Usually I leave them until the next morning. I also have a crappy habit of not brushing my teeth when it’s the holidays and when I’m not going out. I feel like I ruin my good teeth, thinking they’re all straight and perfect, then I get bloody bleeding gums. That’s when Sebby told me to brush my teeth after every meal.

I did that today.

My mum also tried to make it a habit for me to eat fruit daily. She forced it upon my brother and I when we were younger but I still need to be reminded. I ate a pear and an apple today though, and I know I should eat fruit daily to keep me healthy. 8D

What are your bad habits?

I haven’t gotten around to responding to all the comments from my past few blog posts but I read through many of them and I am so grateful for all the support. It’s just what I need to keep myself cheered up.

I still feel worried about the near future, at least until university starts again. I know many people are always excited about holidays and breaks, but I start to despise them because of lack of things to keep me busy and to do.

I’m not saying last semester was imperfect by far – but I really want to be on the ball when uni starts again, and I’m not going to let any shit blow up in my face. Last semester was a rollercoaster in the last week: emotionally, physically and mentally. Lots of group work troubles, lots of travelling to do, and extreme blow-ups with people who don’t even understand HTML.

Speaking of code, the past few rough days – or the past week, was it? – I didn’t see code for days while Fin¹ was taken away, and it was not pretty. It sounds weird to say that I live and breathe code, but the whole atmosphere of coding, designing and blogging is something that sort of revolves around me every day. I think I went into a crying stupor² because of my lack of access to the internet and because I did not see code. Call me a geek or what.

Let me say that those few days with no (or limited) internet access were hell but it’s made me realise just how addicted I am. I’m going to stop putting so much pressure on myself. My hobbies are just websites and I need to get my priorities straight! My mum has given Fin back. I missed him.

Having said that, thanks to Sebby’s idea, I’m running off for a “grace week”, beginning 27th July³. I won’t stand to have the edges of my semester break ripped to pieces. So that week, I’m going to be heading out to James’s house, going to university before it actually starts, going shopping – going back into routine.

My mother believes that’s when it starts. Yes, I feel gingerly nasty for telling a lie, but in all honesty, I need to get away for some time. I need to see Lilian and exchange late birthday gifts, I need to see James, and I want to get some proper fresh air. It’s just a week.

It’s been pretty much a whole month since university ended, and I haven’t even been outside of the house other than to go to work and shop with my mum.

I honestly hate lying as well, but I need out. I want out. And I’m getting out.