just sent in my halls of residence application for vuw. how unnerving :O next i have to send in the $75 hall application fee, and finally my reference thing.

things are finally starting to move forward.

hello

friday:

- yesterday was the wellington university open day. i was out of bed at 4.40am, at school by 20 to 6, and in wellington by around 8.30. it was a great day. i spent most of it completely alone, wandering the university, talking to students and representatives of subjects, picking up pamphlets and, lastly, taking a tour of one of the hostels (weir house, the best, most sought after of all).

- i also went to two subject information sessions; one for history/philosophy, one for classical studies. the speakers were very enthusiastic and it made me feel like i could leave home now and just get into it, because it sounds wonderful.

saturday/today:

- today nadia and i took a trip into palmerston north to see a movie and do some shopping. it was a great day. i hadn't been to a movie in ages dues to plans falling through and because of an annoyingly generalish lack of interest. thankfully, nadia appreciates the cinemas as much as i do.

- we arrived at 12amish and booked tickets for the karate kid screening at 1.45, then spent a little while looking around the plaza. we went to valleygirl, where we bought identical top things for $10. i also bought a singlet for another $10. everything there is very cheap.

- also bought atonement, a novel by ian mcewan.

- the karate kid was epic. it was funny, but also sad (i teared up a little... alright, fine, i had tears full out running down my cheeks. jackie chan's reminiscing scene was seriously ). i want to see it again.

- after this we went to the new ice cream place in downtown, where i had a kiddie cone of feijoa ice cream. it was delicious.

so that was my day.

i am forgoing caps in this post because i feel very calm at the moment and i think that the lack of caps emphasises this.

i hope you all have a lovely sunday, see you guys on monday (first day back at school! yeah!) xx

Madness!

Yeah, so, ignore that last post, please. Silly me :P

I am on a Harry Potter high right now. Over the last couple of weeks I:
- read books 1-4
- watched movies 5 and 6 (while reading the above, not after)
- read book 7
- read books 5 and 6 (because the movies simply don't show enough)

And now I am reading number 7 again.

I am doing this instead of studying, of course. My History exam is tomorrow, and then on Friday I'm off to Wellington for the Victoria University trip. Getting up at like 4am is going to be sweeeet.

Sometimes I Think, Sometimes I Don't

I feel like such a mean person :( Somebody asked me if I would go to the ball with him and I said no. Ugh, and then he tried to convince me that he's really nice and that I should go simply because of this. It's true, he's not a bad guy or anything, I just don't want to go, because the person I would want to go with is not here. Instead, he's halfway around the world and he's probably forgotten all about me, what with all the gorgeous American girls.

Please, please, PLEASE, don't ask me who asked me, because all that will happen is that I will get very mad and resent the fact that you were born.
I'm kidding, I'm not that mean, but I sure wont be happy.

So I've been thinking about tattoos again, and something that struck me is this:

"The Greek word for “return” is nostos. Algos means “suffering.” So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return."

Nostos Algos. I kinda like it. I'm often hit with bouts of nostalgia. In my mind, my childhood was wonderful. Before my parents divorced and my dad left when I was eight, it really did feel like everything was perfect. We had a beautiful house (number one, Hugh Green Drive, Albany, Auckland), I went to a great school and had so many friends, I had an adorable youngest sister (Ellie, before she turned into a psycho) and another older younger sister (Tori, before she grew up a little more and formed opinions) who I could put up with a lot easier. I don't remember my parents fighting. We went on vacation (England, Fiji, Arizona), and I lived closer to my relatives.
Back to the tattoo, though. I just need an image to go with it. What represents nostalgia? I suppose clocks do, but I don't really like clocks, they make annoying noises. Clouds? Clouds passing?
To be honest I want a bird. A nostalgic bird. Birds fly. Back in time? A bird in a whirl of time?

In a tophat. Hehe.


The sky is darkening like a stain,
Something is going to fall like rain
And it won't be flowers.

Keep Reading, It Gets Interestinger

I have my first exam tomorrow. Classical Studies.

But to the point:

It's really not that hard to organise a camping trip.

Step 1. Decide on a place. Easy.
Step 2. Book it.
Step 3. Tell parents, get them to buy you food, organise transport.
Step 4. Pack.
Step 5. Go.

All I ask for is a few days away from home in a new place (Kawhatau Base, obviously. It's awesome up there). We only have a small amount of time before the end of the year, and unless we're able to get everyone together in mid-Feb (unlikely), we wont be going anywhere. Camping is much better than farting around at someone's house, watching movies and sitting glued to their computer screens. At camp we can go for nature walks (I don't CARE about how lame that might sound), play cards, tell stories in the dark, light fires at night, swim, play games (silly outdoor kid games like last time) and cook yummy outdoor dinners. Of course, you can do some of that stuff in town, but it's not the same. When you're done you'll always have something else fun to do. It's a chance to get away from people in general and just hang out, uninterrupted, with your best buds for a while. Not to mention all the awesome camp memories (I mean, come on: don't you remember how awesome didymo was?).
But if you'd rather dress up like stupid kids, fine with me. Fucking fine. The clothes we have are perfectly alright, we don't have to wear sheets.

If you haven't guessed, I'm not really one for dressing up parties. I'd rather be out.

I don't even know if you guys know what I'm talking about. You probably don't get it, why I'd rather camp. Comment if you get it. If you don't, shut your mouth, I'm not trying to start an argument.



Hahaha.



Here is a cock penis, for teh lulz.

I'm Sort Of Back

Oooh looky looky, a new blog post! How long has it been? A while. I'll officially be computerally active once again on Wednesday, when our internet usage count rolls over.
Here are some things on my mind right now:

- Camp. I'll be going to England pretty much right after exams have finished at the beginning of December, and I wont be back until early Feb, approx one month before I leave for wherever I end up going. I'm guessing that by then most people will have gone- those who are in Year 13, anyway (and we all know that the usual camp organisers are those of us in Yr 13. I mean, we went to get food for last time and got all the money together and things...). I wanted to go to Kawhatau base again, like I did for a tramping trip in Y10, but apparently the water supply would be an issue.

- Uni. Open day on the 27th. Looking forward to it. Although, I will have to be on the bus at 6AM, and I'm not sure at this point whether I'll have company (PLEASE come, Rachel!). Just a warning, though- I'm not very talkative at 6 in the morning (just ask Hannah J, who I ride to school with every morning), but I think that the day would overall be pretty fun.

- Exams. But who isn't thinking about that?

That's all. I know, it was wonderfully inviting (and full of pizzazz).

Adios :)

Don't Read This, It's Boring

La dee da. Home almost alone. It's so awesome. I'm not being told off every 5 seconds. No one's told me to do anything.
Was up by 7.30 this morning, at work by 8, off work at 12. After that there was nothing to do, so I watched some TV and had lunch. It's also raining, which I love when I'm inside.
Tomorrow I don't have to get up until 10, and mum wont be home until 8PM. So anyway, I'm going to go and read some more Harry Potter (The Goblet of Fire), and maaaybe do some homework. But probably not.
See. Told you it was boring. Have this:

P.S. JOIN TUMBLR, AND FOLLOW ME. I ONLY HAVE SIX FOLLOWERS.

We're All Islands

You know that saying, "Every man is an island"? Well so are girls, cause I sure feel like an island right now.

So anyway, I'm having a bit of a writer's block. Must write. Can't. Gah. I don't really care anymore about what people think of my writing (I'm not sure what to think, myself. I've had good critique and bad), I just do it for me. Right now I'm having a complete mental blank. It's been going for a while now.
Hm. Maybe I can break it by drawing something awesome.
So, just a few points about things:

- I'm coping pretty well, all things considering. I'm a bit embarrased about my earlier posts about how I wont cope with school. There are two empty seats next to me in Geography and History, but I suppose that absense doesn't always make the heart grow fonder.
- Donated bloooood, y'all! (For the second time.) If you ever nearly die and get my internal fluids inside you, and they save your life, I expect an extravaggant cash prize. Seriously, go for my blood, though, it's of A+ quality.
- Passed a Geo test worth credits, which is a first. Literally.
- Found out that Uni hall applications are judged on YEAR TWELVE GRADES. It was by far my worst year. If I'd known then how important it was, I'd've tried harder (or quit Economics).
- Am looking after the house this weekend. Tori and I are at home alone all Saturday and part of Sunday, which means that lots of baking will go down.

That's all, folks.

P.S. Listen to Islands, by The XX. And watch the music video (all the way through).

And Oh! How It Rained!

It rained today. Oh, did it ever. Of all the weatherly things, rain and wind are my least favourite. If there were a line titled "the line on top of which are the things that I like most", rain and wind would be miles beneath, in the murky depths of blatant rejection.
Sometimes something happens which cancels out the rain and wind, such as a good test result or a funny joke, and thankfully one such thing happened today. Jessica W and Jessica M and I were having a conversation. Here is how it happened (more or less):

(we were on the subject of having Maori blood in our veins and how thankful we are that for most of us, it isn't so)
Me (to Jessica W.): Do you have any Maori in you?
Jessica W.: My mum and my dad are Maori.
Jessica M.: Yeah, but your mum is from Britain, and your last name is White!

Oh, and not only that, but Jessica M today instructed a mentally challenged boy on how to correctly use a door handle. I don't remember how it went, but it was funny.

Things like this don't happen enough. We have to strengthen our funny bones and utilise them more often. Too often are we plagued by awkward silences, stuck in a deadly mire of imagination-gone-to-die.

Haha, I'm only kidding. Silence isn't all bad. If I were old, I might even argue that it is golden. I just enjoy sounding like one of those overly inspirational speakers that Hollywood movies are all to fond of. You guys are awesome.

Warning: Long and Weird (But Wonderful).

I asked Jess (on Tumblr) who would win in a fight, a rooster or a beaver. She said:

That does take some contemplation (which I just had real issues spelling). I must warn you now that I like beavers quite a lot, so I am probably biased.

Mmkay, so a rooster has very spindly legs, and probably isn’t overly strong. Certainly not as strong as a beaver. I mean, they’re quite…stocky looking. Plus, beavers have those big teeth. I think that a rooster, which I imagine would be faster/more agile than a beaver, would be more inclined to run away if it got into a fight with a beaver, and the beaver probably wouldn’t be able to catch it. However, that’s not a win, more of a default.

In saying that, roosters have a fighting history - cock fighting, that is - so maybe because of that they’d be less chicken than one would assume. Haha.

I think that if they were forced into close combat, then the beaver would try to use its weight and larger mass to its advantage, and the rooster would try and be more ninja, using its agility. But I think in the end, it would be the beaver coming out on top. Just because one bite from those sharp teeth to that scrawny neck would end that rooster.And the rooster might get disqulified, for fighting ‘fowl’! AHAHA! Lordy, am I funny or what?

Yeah, sorry about that.

But, I think that we have neglected the real question here. Why would a beaver and a rooster be fighting in the first place? Did the beaver covet the rooster’s hens? Did the rooster enroach on the beaver’s dam? Or did the beaver just get pissed off at the rooster’s insistence at having sex very early in the morning, leading to loud orgasmic noises before sun-up? (Yes, that is the real reason that cocks crow in the morning).

So, this has been another episode of “Cap’n Hans Lee O’Flanaghan, Sr. (Esq.) Dribbles On About Silly Things”. Tune in next time, for more dribbling on about silly things.In the name of science.

And then Jess asked: Why would a beaver and a rooster get into a fight? Huh?

And I said: Oh, well I see you don’t know.

You see, back in the early 1580s, when the first roosters arrived in Canada, there was a bloody feud involving the two species. It went on unnoticed by humans- except perhaps by the odd observant person who realised that beavers sometimes included bones in the building of their dams- for almost 75 years. To this day, we are not quite sure of the reason. Some argue a turf-war, others an inter-species abomination sparked from a Romeo&Juliet type fandango.
In May of 1656 a treaty was signed, in which both parties agreed to a ceasefire, provided that none of either party crossed the boundary line. This line was situated in the southern Canadian territory Manitoba, slightly to the east of Winnipeg.

Just ten years later the Rooster King, Crowing-Cloud, issued private orders to his SS division for a terrorist attack on the nearby beaver barracks in Edmonton, Alberta, where the Beaver King and his Queen (Sotchi Sotchi and Sachi Sotchi Sotchi) temporarily resided. His reason: the young son of the Beaver King and Queen had crept under cover of darkness into Manitoba the night before and plundered the best branches of his home tree.

The attack proceeded smoothly at first, killing Satchi Satchi and his wife in a swift, merciless battle. The SS failed, however, to capture their son, a quick witted fellow by the name of Henry. During his escape to the north of Albert, Henry gathered an army. What followed was a slaughter. He marched through Saskatchewan and back through Manitoba to Ontario and Quebec, deep into rooster territory. Almost the whole population of roosters was killed in the genocide, including Crowing-Cloud and his closest friend and Uncle, Fire-Tail.

Hundreds of years later, Canadian beavers are still on the hunt for stray roosters, and attack them whenever possible.

We know of this now mainly because of the beaver burial grounds in Southern Quebec, where thousands of rooster corpses were hidden in the dense forests. The bones show obvious beaver bites and scratches. The extra information comes from “dam-art”, drawings made by scribes in the ancient homes of long-gone beaver generations.

Are we weird or what? :3