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This may sound a little pathetic... but I miss him. No, not the ex... but a guy I met almost two years ago, in another country that I didn't even talk to. He lives here... somewhere... in Sydney. But that isn't really much help since Sydney is a pretty big, people-filled place. My friends graciously decided to help me find my "dream boat"... but gave up within the week.. which I fully, completely understand. There's no point looking is there? Cause I'll never ever find him. Not in this life time anyway.
I remember the exact time and place where I first saw him and lost my wonderful opportunity to talk to him. I won't say where it was, to protect me and the souls of the public, but it was early early morning.... technically and I was tired and broody 'cause a friend had just passed away, I was walkng past and he smiled at me, a big cheesey, hot grin and what did I do? I gave him a dirty. How good was that. Fucking brilliant!
I was sooo angry at myself, I spent three weeks discreetly following him, and glancing at him to find that he too was glancing at me, which probably would have made my day if I had just noticed once! But mostly he avoided me, which I again, fully, completely understand. I mean, I was a rude, heartless bitch.
So if you are a young, strappy guy who lives in Sydney, give us a shout. ARGH! this isn't a personals is it? sorry *blushes and runs*
On a happier note, I'm going to the beach tomorrow! YAY! I'm stoked! I haven't been to the beach in yonks! The surf, The sun and the boys ;)
As another school year is put behind us and we move on to the last stage of our schooling lives, we say goodbye to the ones that led us to where we are. Not our parents, not the teachers, but year twelve. Believe it or not, the current year twelve has made a HUGE impact on me. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I love them... mostly because I am such good friends with a few of them.
Some of them have always been there since the day I stepped into that school, always one step ahead of me... and they always will be I guess.
Other than me missing some friends that will have disappeared, year twelve leaving also means that I will be in year twelve. ME! Of all people.. but I guess it was inevitable. It was going to happen whether I liked it or not.. and after tomorrow it will have happened. So I have decided that it is time to pull my socks up and start on my long... industrious journey to the end of year twelve which is only 4 wonderful terms of nervous breakdowns, tears, guys, paper, friends, pens, sore hands, stupid distraction, parties and other various bits and pieces away. I can't wait... No, seriously!
Anyway, that wasn't really the point. The point was muck-up day. Between sob stories, no lessons and good food, the school had been taken over by a bunch of crazy 17/18 year olds. With road work signs scattered neatly around "student drop off" parents found hell trying to find a nice place to park for a second and junoirs screamed as they ran away from the super-soakers. The school was "under new management". The juniors hated it and the seniors were over it so it all evened out. Continuously being pegged with water bombs and having your classes raided was only half the fun. The question was brought up, "Why do we make them a nice lunch if they only torture us" It doesn't make sense, but that's the way the world works. The little ones are treated like scum.
With a nice array of toilet paper hung up in trees and clingwrap blocking doorways, everyone had retreated and the year twleves were getting bored, luckily for them a mood breaker appeared! YES! several strapping young men in g-strings decided to have a wander past the school. Obviously, being an all girls school this created the biggest uproar you could ever imagine. Like immature little school girls, they were all pressed up against the gate, while nazi teacher had a run after the boys. My friends and I stood for a while hoping that they weren't anyone we knew. Luckily, they weren't. So the boys were chased away, much to the dissmay of the poor little slutty year 7's as they were un-glued from the fence and hurridly sent back to class where the teachers had hoped they would be shielded from almost naked boys. But why? What's the point of averting their already very dirty minds? They'd already seen it, They've already seen fully naked men in the multiple sex-education lessons that they pile onto us and I'm pretty sure at least a quarter of them have already screwed someone. So what's the big deal?!
Ahhh enough excitement for one day, especially for the nazi teacher, who probably got off on chasing teenage boys in g-strings down the street.
"It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right, I hope you had the time of your life."
This post was edited by kaizley on Sep 16, 2004.
Not the best..
She sank into her big red chair
And quietly prayed to God
Her strong belief
Did nothing good
It only steered her wrong
She jumped up when it appeared
The dark, imposing light
It lowered down
And picked her up
And carried her away
It took her down the quiet street
And up the wind swept hill
Somehow she knew
She’d never wake
From this sleep so deep
The spirits looked into her soul
And took it by the hand
It shimmered light
And shivered dark
As they took the soul away
Off to another secluded place
That only God could find
The spirits left
And this soul had answered prayers.
Beginning the preperation process to this wonderous night one hour before my "date" (if you can call him that) was probably not the best idea that I'd ever had, but it worked considering our "chauffer" came about 10 minutes early, and my "date" came about 10 minutes late. Never mind that, I was ready before my "date" was supposed to arrive, so I was happy.
Since my mother had gone over seas and the dogs were away in the kennel, I was leftt to walk around in circles, getting increasingly nervous about whether or not my "date" would turn up. My anxiety subsided slightly with a loud BEEPING from my phone. A MESSAGE! I don't get too many of them too often. To my delight, it was my dearest telling me that he would infact be arriving a little late. Unfortunately, by this time he was already 7 minutes late. I shrugged off the nerves and continued to wait.
Okay, enough of this pre-social stuff, I'll just cut to the good stuff.
The car trip was long and hard, trying to find the right direction and also get there on time. We did finally get there and my "date" and I took the long hike to wharf number eight. We weren't too sure which way it was, but with our brilliant intellect, we found wharf number eight. A bunch of year 11 people were floating around, looking a little bored and a little slutty. "Date" and I went on a search through the crowds for a friend that we could talk to. Eventually we had uncovered two of our beloveds and began our small talk.
Eyeing the other girls' "barely covering their ass" dresses and commenting on how horribly slutty most of them looked. The boys began to talk about how girls should always dress like that, commenting on the costs of these metre long piesce of material and something about "if they were longer more girls would buy them" I don't know, I wasn't listening.
As the group got bigger, the one conversation grew into about 5 conversations as usual. Picking about 12 friends, we waited for the boat (which was running late, in our schools normal fashion).
Finally! It arrived, not nearly as large as we had depicted, but anywho. We all loaded onto the boat and watched as our few male friends were frisked for any sign of alcohol, drugs or weapons. That was HILARIOUS! I'm telling you! Of course, us young ladies did not get frisked.
The boat was cold. FREEZING actually. My dearests and I stood at the front and watched as it began to move, as it neared floating objects in the harbour, we made jokes about us smashing and sinking, which obviously did not happen. ANYWHO! That was fun for a little while... we were soon called in for dinner. The chairs were so squished together it was impossible for anyonw to get in or out. As the boat rumbled on, we formed an assembly line and began to pick at the buffet of fugly chicken, gross pasta and festy salad. We ate reluctantly, knowing that this was the last morsal of food that we'd see in five whole hours.
After dinner, the shit house doof doof music came on (if you are not familiar with this term, either look it up or use your imagination). The motley crew of teenagers began their weird ass dancing and getting onto their dear boyfriends/other peoples boyfriends/randoms. This wasn't too fun for the girls to watch, but the boys were enjoying themselves.
My "date" who had blatantly refused to hit the dance floor, stood at the front of the boat with a few others, while some of the girls went inside to party down. They stood there for a while, until it began to rain. The first drops of rain in... say... a month? This much needed sydney water drove the boys inside, into the stinky hot, hormone filled, fart and rotting foos smelling "dance floor". I was given a small wager by on of my friend's partner. He told me that if I got my "date" to dance, he would give me $20. Eventually my "date" did dance, but I did not recieve my $20... I'll let it slide this time..
Occasionally we wondered about in the rain, danced and talked. Trying to avoid the make-out sessions that were happening everywhere we turned. I was graciously offered a jacket 3 times by 3 different guys on many different occasions. I thought this was extremely sweet of my dearests, considering they didn't seem the slight bit faised but the cold.
The night wore on and after four hours, half of year 11 were seated on the floor inside, while the selected few continued to dance like no tomorrow. The night was now hell bound. I can't quite remember what happened in this last hour. I think I blocked it out.
I remember that at the end I got a hug and was politely ditched by my "date", as he was under the impression that he was supposed to go to the after party, which I, unfortunatley was not able to attend, with my mother away and all.
I got into the car and went back to my fathers, where I was interrogated. I did not get to bed until about 2am and did not get to sleep until about 3am.
- I did not get with anyone
- I did not pick anyone up
- I did not get drunk or high
- I didn't... yeah!
(for more details, please write to this address... there is a lot more I could have written about, for example, my "depression" by the end of the night [which I might delve into later] but now it's bedtime, and I have school tomorrow)
This post was edited by kaizley on Sep 06, 2004.
I really, seriously have nothing to write. This is the second time I've been on the internet in a week. For me, this is a record. hehe
Tomorrow is the social. I'm really pepped up about that. It's gonna be great fun.
I got two splinters today in my hand and managed to get one of them out, but the other one sank right in... Is that potentially dangerous? I hurts like hell!
My friend just told me that it will decay, or i'll get infected. EWW! hehe.
I'm off.. this is boring.
I got my legs and my eyebrows waxed today, to beautify for the social. YAY! I'm excited! It's didn't hurt too much. Actually the hot wax hurt more than actually pulling the hair off my legs.
What has that got to do with angels? Nothing really, I just thought I would mention it.
Anyway, angels have been "ruling my life" so to speak. Songs about angels, books about angels, dramas about angels and.. other stuff that are related to these superhuman beings.
Our year 11 production is being performed tomorrow, it is about angels as above mentioned. This was a fantabulous idea and I'm pretty excited about it. We've not had very long to do it but I think that it's going to turn out well. I think the angels really are on our side for this one, well most of it. There is a touch of conflict bubbling between the two classes choice of performance and unfortunatley it's a little late to change anything as we are performing infront of a minimal amount of people tomorrow. I hope we do good!
Songs.. Well, there are countless numbers of songs about angels.. "Angels" by Robbie Williams, umm... There are definately more than just that, but my brain is more focused on the pain of my face to think of anymore.
BOOKS! The mostest important! I got this cool book called "Messages from your Angels" I have not yet read it, but it looks soooo good and.. and.. it's about how to understand messages from angels and what they are REALLY saying. etc.
That was really pretty pointless. Meh.