What have I been doing? I don't know either.

Life is pretty good when your main objectives for the day consist of brushing your hair and (maybe) changing out of your PJ's. This is my idea of a holiday - doing absolutely nothing at all after working hard for a semester. I don't even like to travel while I'm on holiday. Travel, really, is just another form of work. You know, lugging yourself from one landmark to another - appreciating the beauty, of course - and then retiring to some hotel room that you will never feel at home in...

Home really is the number one travel destination for me. I'm feeling refreshed and I'm ready to take on what the rest of the year has to offer.

Knowledge of what is possible is the beginning of happiness - George Santayana

Home-ward Bound

EXAMS ARE OVER. Yabba-dabba-doo! (Until next semester, of course...)

Going home, and sleeping like a bear - for all of the winter.

Appreciate the lyric-spam. It's all you're getting for now.

I am painfully aware that I'm pretty slack when it comes to composing anything new here. Today will be no different, although I'm sure you'll appreciate the musical genius of Darren Hayes. My love for Savage Garden has recently been rekindled - the melodies soothing my otherwise unstable mind...

Darren Hayes - In your eyes

Love... I get so lost sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are

And though my instincts, they return
And this grand façade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, and without my pride
I reach out from the inside,

In your eyes, the light, the heat
In your eyes, I am complete
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
In your eyes, the resolution of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes, I see the light I see the heat
In your eyes, oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light, the heat I see in your eyes

Love, I don't like to see so much pain
So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for my survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

And though my instincts, they return
And this grand façade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, and without my pride
I reach out from the inside,

In your eyes, the light, the heat
In your eyes, I am complete
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
In your eyes, the resolution of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes, I see the light I see the heat
In your eyes, oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light, the heat I see in your eyes

All work and no play makes Lucy a dull girl.

It's safe to assume that I'm pretty dull right now. With final exams for the semester just around the corner, play time will transcend into the negative realm.

"Negative" - what a fitting word! This isn't a new observation, merely a repetition, but: In the grand scheme of things, I'm quite a negative person. I am constantly doubting my ability to do anything substantial with my life, let alone do anything at all. I guess these feelings are especially prevalent around exam time... The utter frustration that I feel when I get a practice exam question wrong is, well, excruciating. I see people around me succeeding with the same questions without half the study and application I invest in my work. Truth be told, it makes me feel inadequate. Yes, I do better than just scrape through these assessment pieces. It's not the issue of passing. It's the issue of, why the hell is it taking me so much longer to learn these concepts?

Sometimes I doubt if I'm even on the right career path. Is Accountancy the right way to go? Perhaps the reason why I'm having a hard time learning these concepts is because this isn't the right vocation to me. When I left school I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, so I jumped at business because I thought I was marginally good at it at school. I always thought Journalism would be a good way to go, but I somehow convinced myself that my writing wasn't up to standard.

Hm, I think I need to get my priorities sorted.

Now I'm going to add a video which I think is really fitting to what I'm saying. No, it's not that "I must be Emo" video... It's "I quit being miserable" by YouTube's babyporridge.
Here it is:


Take care, readers!

Compiling a bucket list...

I'll be honest: I'm just a dirty, rotten idea-stealer. The concept of a "Bucket List" is one that has been around for a while. I liked the idea, so I'm writing one now.
Capisce?

Also, aren't numbered lists just so attractive? If your answer was negative, I will change your opinion in just a few short minutes.

Here goes...

1. Travel to Lichtenstein, just because I like the name of the place.
2. Learn another language. (Unfortunately, being quite proficient in Gangster is not achievement enough. )
   
3. Grow a beard. (Great for comedic value... Now the somewhat hypothetical 'stroking' of the beard when deep in thought would become a reality.)
   
4. See more live tennis.
5. Invent something revolutionary.
6. Go to Egypt and slide down the pyramids on a broken cardboard box. (It's been done on dirt hills, why not the giant ones?)
   
7. Have children. (I wasn't given these massive child-bearing hips for nothing, man!)
8. Collect classic novels from all parts of the world and build my own personal library.
   
9. Cook the perfect meal.
   
10. Live happily ever after with the man I love. (Refer to my post about male fictional characters and my warped perceptions of romantic reality. I think this will help in explaining why this item will never be crossed off my list.)

That's the list for the present. I will, no doubt, update this list over the span of my life.

To paraphrase the Umbilical Brothers, if you're gonna die, you have to die 'artistically'. If you could choose the way you kicked the bucket, how would you kick said bucket?

My choice: Impalement on the Eiffel Tower. Maybe it will be a freak sky-diving accident that puts me there. Maybe I have to scale the architectural masterpiece and lodge the tip into my stomach. In any case, it would be a cool way to go.

What do you think?

I can't say my writing has improved.

Oh be still, my beating heart.

Yeah...

So here's the run-down of today's post. This is a little snippet from that fan-fiction I wrote back in high school. It's a bit shit, but I never guaranteed anyone that any of the postings on this blog would be even industrial toilet-paper quality.

Also, note how my name is markedly different to the girl character's name in this story. 'Lucie' and 'Lucy' are soooo different, I really don't know where the comparison comes from...

Why am I showing you? I don't know, really. Run along now...


--~--
Marat was lounging in the afternoon sun on a rather uncomfortable chair in his hotel room when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Lucie stood grinning expectantly at him when he opened the door.

'Lucie... Hi,' he said, allowing her in. She stepped into the room, turning around to face him once the door was closed with the same look on her face.

'Hello Marat.' Her face resumed the look once again.

'Uhh...' Marat started, scratching his head absent mindedly with his injured arm. 'As much as it is great to see you, I wonder why you are here?' he enquired, glancing down at the mangled clump of paper she held at her chest. 'What's that?'

Lucie thrust it into his stomach before walking back a few steps. He squinted at the blotched ink that held his thoughts from a week ago.

'Heidi found this amongst my washing,' Lucie explained.

'Oh, did she?' Marat flicked his eyes up to her face.

'Yeah,' Lucie said. There was a slight pause. 'Well, what do you think?' she asked impatiently.

Marat said nothing, instead concentrating on paper.

'Marat...' Lucie said warningly. 'Do you intend on answering me soon?'

'Are you sure -' He started.

'YES! Of course I'm sure,' Lucie interrupted, thinking she knew what the question was.

'No, no... I was going to ask you whether you're sure my writing looks like that,' he said. Lucie's face lost all emotion.

'What do you mean?'

'Oh, I mean -' Marat tried to keep a straight face, but then became immersed in a fit of laughter. Lucie shot him a dirty look. 'I'm sorry, that was too funny.'

'You won't be laughing if you do that again. I will rip your stitches out,' Lucie said threateningly looking down at his side. 'How are the stitches going?'

Marat lifted up his shirt to show her. 'Sore,' he said truthfully.

' -And your arm?'

'Also sore, but I'll survive,' he replied. 'Just wait a second, I'll be back,' he left the lounge room to get something from his bedroom.

Lucie sat down on the nearest chair to wait, but was standing again five seconds later as Marat carried in a bouquet of tulips and something behind his back.

'Now, since I'm a man of style -' Marat began, but Lucie cut across him.

'Pfft. Style?' she poked her tongue out.

'Gosh, you have an argument for everything,' he laughed. 'Still, since we're going on my opinion today...'

Lucie smiled sweetly.

'The giving of tulips equates to style,' Marat explained.

'What does the giving of a ring equate to then?'

'Who said I was giving you a ring?'

Lucie narrowed her eyes. 'Stitches,' she warned.

'Okay, okay,' Marat said, handing the tulips to Lucie. He proceeded to open the ring box that he had hidden behind his back and showed her the engagement band. 'The giving of a ring, in this case, equates to a proposition.'

'Which would be?' Lucie asked, still pretending to be coy, through her grin was growing bigger.

'Lucie, I'm supposed to be asking the questions,' he said and cleared his throat. 'Lucie Mediva, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

Lucie tried to laugh, but instead a tear seeped down her cheek.

'Going back on this idea of your opinion as the only one that matters today,' she began, 'what would you recommend I say?'

'Well, I'm hoping you'll say ”yes”.'
--~--

- That is the end of the excerpt.

In conclusion:

My writing at 15 > Stephanie Meyer's writing.

Giving my body a sense of independence.

This is one of those rare occasions where I am inspired to write a blog, even though I'm only writing this to get away from doing other things. The inspiration has to come from somewhere I guess.

It's Friday morning. I think I woke up a great deal too early today. I'm feeling pretty damn tired, but it might just be my body complaining about a lack of caffeine in it. I haven't had any coffee for a few days, and my sugar consumption is at an all-time low.

You see, I've made a deal with myself that I'll cut out the crap and actually start eating decently. My body isn't liking the lack of sugar at all. In fact, it's telling my brain that I should be perpetually cranky at the world without a justifiable reason. My face shall remain fixed in a snarl until my body stops acting like a petulant child and accepts that it must not become friends with sugar again. Sure, sugar's a bit of a laugh, but he's not long-term relationship material. --- Perhaps, sugar can come around to visit on rare occasions though?
Body: 'Okay, deal. I still hate you Lucy.'
Lucy: 'Wait, are you not part of me now? Since when has self-loathing ever led to anything constructive?'
Body: 'No, I've detached myself from you. We're totally separate now.'
Lucy: '... Okay, if that works for you then.'
Body: 'Oh, it does.'
...

Internal battles are just fun, aren't they?



Anyway, I've wasted enough time trying to compose this failure of a post.

I'll sign off with the universally-known truth:

I don't need sugar; I'm already sweet enough without it.

The art of procrastination, I know it well.

"Procrastination" is a great word. It is also a great tool for passing the time. Not a productive tool, but a great tool nonetheless.

This week end was pretty special. The girls in my corridor, myself included, went out to the Sunshine Coast for the ANZAC holiday. It's always nice to get away from the college and experience the real world again.

So, on Saturday afternoon we all piled into cars and drove towards the horizon.

The highlights of the trip include:

• A home-cooked meal provided by my senior's lovely parents.
• Playing Balderdash with the girls while sipping our oh-so-special home made cocktails.
• Sitting on the beach, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze.
• The whole trip was a highlight, to be honest.
  

After having such a wonderful time on the week end, I have to say that there are so many things that that we take for granted. Our freedom to enjoy this land in the way that we do, to have the friendships that we have...

This is the day to truly commemorate what our brave soldiers fought for all those years ago, and what they continue to do for us today. We wouldn't have the liberties that we so take for granted if these men and women had not sacrificed themselves for the country. It is for this that we should be forever thankful.


Lest we forget.

Yes, it's been a while.

I'm super busy so I'm just going to post some song lyrics and be done with it. I'm the slackest blogger ever. - I guess that saying I'm the "slackest blogger ever" is a little bit extreme... The slackest blogger wouldn't even blog. I am adamant that I shall not be classified as such and so, for the purpose of my contentment, this will be considered a proper blog. Don't mess with me, yo.

Alex Lloyd - Brand New Day

When you feel as though you're falling
Every fear you can confide
When the night time is your dawning
Hard to see through troubled eyes

What you wanted so
Had to let it go

Brand new day is coming round the bend
Troubles reaching for the end
If you stray from the path my friend
I will pick you up again

Hard to wake up in the morning
Hard to see through so much light
With every dream you've had gone calling
Makes it harder to believe

What you wanted so
Had to let it go

Brand new day is coming round the bend
Troubles reaching for the end
If you stray from the path my friend
I will pick you up again
I will pick you up again
Troubles reaching for the end

Everything that starts must end
Reaching for a new beginning
Everything that starts must end
Reaching for a new beginning

Brand new day is coming round the bend
Troubles reaching for the end
If you stray from the path my friend
I will pick you up again
I will pick you up again
Troubles reaching for the end

Said I'm lonely won't you let me in
I'm longing for the day...

A Belated Happy Easter

So hopefully those bunnies have stopped laying those chocolate eggs now. What did we all get from the Easter Bunny this year? I can tell you that I got too much. I think that my metabolism will have to speed up by about 600% just so I can digest all the chocolate-y goodness.

I was able to see my family this weekend, which was really really good. I never realised how much news I miss out on when I'm not living at home. This weekend was just a big catch-up session, honestly. You know finding out the finer details of my brother and his fiancée moving to Canada this year, seeing my niece for the first time in a while, having a good chat to my brother-in-law...

The little moments in life that are truly precious.

On a more sombre note, Uni work is starting to pick up pretty swiftly. Think: The snowball rolling down the hill, gaining more speed and mass as it comes tumbling down. Now think: That same snowball being pretty substantial even before it comes hurtling down the hill. Finally, think: Me standing at the bottom of the hill, just waiting for the snowball to bowl me over. It's pretty inevitable.

Should I run further from the icy sphere, or shall I face it head-on?