Chai Tea

Bob pushed the microwave door button.  Not hard enough.  He tried again and this time the door sprung open happily.  He caught it before it made it through its arc, bouncing on the springy hinges like it often did.

He didn't like that microwave door button.  He didn't really like any microwave door button.  They all seemed so… archaic.  Why did they all have to be so hard to push anyway?  Microwaves had been around at least 60 years now in some form or another.
'Surely the technology to open them could have evolved just a little in that time' he thought to himself as he put the chilled mug onto the paper towel he had sitting on the inside of the appliance.

It was tea from the night before.  He'd found himself entertaining an Indian girl from a bar down the road and had thought it a fine idea to finally break out some Chai that his mother had gifted him over a year previously.  Chai, not Chai Tea.  The girl had told him that 'chai' just meant 'tea' in Hindi so why would you call it Chai Tea?  Thats about the same level of necessary as calling ATMs ATM Machines.  Which plenty of people did.

"Plenty of idiots" mused Bob.

So here he was, making the most out of the un-drunk tea.  Unlike the the girl who had been very drunk and had passed out on the couch long before the chai had cooled enough to drink.  Bob had learned years ago that tea was one of those mysterious and blessed things that could be microwaved later and not lose any of it's quality.  Tea and McDonald's cheeseburgers were the best candidates for a quick revitalising dose of microwave radiation.  That was his experience.  But he didn't have McDonald's much.  Despite the course of events that had lead him to make his 2am Chai he was generally a pretty healthy person.

The mug had been in the fridge all day before he'd taken it out about 20 minutes before to warm up on the kitchen bench.  He didn't want to crack it by throwing it straight into the heat from the cold.  Now it was covered with a thick layer of condensation like the stereotypical iced beer in any number of posters, TV commercials or day dreams.

Bob put the tea in and hit the 1 minute button on the microwave before pausing his brain with a blank 500 yard stare until the beep brought him back to reality.  He opened the microwave again (first try this time - small win), the mug still had the condensation on the outside but it was steaming now.

"Are you cold? Are you hot?" Bob said to the mug.  "You have no idea, because you're a liquid and aren't intelligent" he went on as he put it back into the microwave for another minute.

As the appliance hummed in the background Bob wondered if other people had similar conversations to their beverages. He decided that he might try writing about it but he'd change his name in the story to Bob because all his stories were about Bob.

The microwave beeped.

Fingers Can't Feel

I'm lying on my childhood bed at the moment.  The room is my childhood room.  It has strangely patterned dark green walls that I painted with my parents (or they painted and I assisted in a tiny capacity) over 15 years ago.  It was probably closer to 20.

The whole room is probably something like 16 square meters but there's so much furniture in it that it feels small.  A bookcase, this bed, a desk, a chest of drawers, a CD cabinet and the obligatory piles of old belongings in any corners or crannies created by the collection of furniture.  I don't even know if 16 square meters counts as big or small but considering the single bed leaves just enough room to open the chest of drawers next to it I'm assuming it's a pretty small to average sized room by most metrics.

Above me there's a void in the ceiling where a skylight sits high above, that my Dad installed probably closer to actually 15 years ago (and it was put in at least a few years after the walls were painted).  It's more of a window than a skylight as it's not opaque or anything, but there's a rolling blind pulled across it on a string that hangs down to just below the level of the rest of the ceiling.  On the end of the string there's a white hoop about 2 inches in diameter and hooked onto the hoop is a two foot long wooden pole coated in black rubber so that you can actually reach the hoop to adjust the blind over the window.  Standing at the door to the room and looking in the pole appears almost to just be hovering in the middle of the room.

As I said, the skylight is blocked by the rolling blind.  The room's one window is also shuttered so that the only real source of light is the open door.  The door looks like a typical teenagers door.  Or at least typical for me and I think I only really styled it like that to look like what I thought was a typical teenager's door back when I did it.

There's a stop sign on it at around head height that I made for a school project at least 20 years ago out of cardboard and then appropriated onto my door years later.  Below that is a sticker which I think came from an airline saying 'Please do not disturb' and along the top of the door something that may be a little less typical.  Tolkien style dwarven runes that I made into a code with one of my best friends back in early high school which translates to 'Go away and leave me alone'.

That best friend moved to America a few years after I put the runes on my door and has since died of cancer so I guess you could spookily say that nobody living knew what they said except me until I pressed publish on this post.

As you might have surmised by now, this post isn't really going anywhere.  I just wanted to put something down.  I'm not depressed right now.  I know traditionally I've only really opened up this account and written things when I was in a morose or despondent mood but this time it's a little different.  I'm actually at my parents house in my childhood bedroom recovering from surgery.  I had a herniated disk in my back that didn't respond to any other treatment and a week ago had a bit of the disc cut away to remove pressure from my sciatic nerve.  I'm just staying here because Mum cooking for me is super convenient and I'm no allowed to drive (read: resume somewhat independent life) until I've had my post op session with the surgeon in a weeks time.

I've been off work for a bit over a month now which has been pretty frustrating and in that time I've mostly filled my days with watching a lot of Netflix, playing guitar (hence my fingers that can't feel), a friend's borrowed xbox, reading and even messing around with some digital DJ equipment that I bought myself about 5 years ago and promptly stopped using almost instantly.  It's the longest period of time I've had off any full time job I've had since I properly entered the workforce.

The funny thing about having more free time than I know what to do with is how badly I've been using it!  I probably could have learned a new language in the time I've had if I was more motivated.  I could have done any number of things.  And while I'm not too hard on myself for most of the sloth that I've given in to, the one thing I'm annoyed about is that I haven't taken this opportunity to write.  You know how it is.  Everyone has something that they'll do "One day when I have time" and for me it's always been writing.  I'll write a book, or a play, or a short story.  Or anything really.  But I've had more time to do that in the last month than I've had for around 10 years and this, right here, about a month into my forced holiday (if you'll call it that) is the first attempt I've made...  A bit of a poor effort if I do say so myself.

I read a comment earlier today that someone I've not known now for coming up on a decade sent me about my previous blog post.  The post was put up a year and a half ago (because I hardly ever come on here) and in it she told me that she'd written a book.  I have never met this person, I hardly know anything about her, but roughly 10 years ago when I started this thing she was the person who commented on my angsty ramblings and became a small part of why I ever logged back on.  It was lovely to see that she'd accomplished that.  I hope you read this one day and see how proud of you I am.

I have mixed feelings about trying to start a book.  Firstly as anyone who's managed to get this far down the page might notice, I'm a bit all over the place.  Secondly I like feedback and don't think I could concentrate on such a big job unless someone was reading along.

Because of that, I've dabbled with the idea of just blogging a book.  Chapter at a time, chapter a week, encouragement as I go etc.  The only issue I have with that idea is that it will put my ideas out in to the world in a way that I can't police.  And then someone who is infinitely more talented than me may see my uncopywrited idea and steal it for his or her own and I'll become a drunk at a bar talking about how the latest big thing was my idea all along...

Of course to put things in perspective, in around 10 years only 70 people have even stumbled across this blog so maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself haha.  Probably don't have to worry about Spielberg stealing my intellectual property just yet right?  Yeah but I bet that's what they all say.
Ok I don't know if I'll do it or not but I don't think I'll let idea theft be the reason I don't do anything.

Might have to start myself a new blog though... This one can just stay turbulent...

Of future ambitions

Perhaps one day I'd like to write.

This is a bit of a tragedy as I'm sure you can understand if you've ever read my previous posts.  I am a bit all over the place.  I use too many punctuation marks that don't need to be there and too many words that don't need to be there either.  Or sometimes I don't use enough..

I think the main thing that's stopped me trying to write in the past was patience.  I'm not a patient guy.  I like to think I am, but then I look at the facts and realise that any time I've been patient was actually just because I didn't have a choice.  I'm a hedonist, I want it now and I won't wait unless you force me to.

That said.  If I try and write, I want to get to the crux fast.  I don't have time to elaborate on the scene, or the mood, or the history of a character, or even to really portray a conversation.

I'm very scared of writing a conversation.

Seriously have you ever actually analysed the words, punctuation, spacing and descriptives in a written conversation?  I have briefly.  But then I got scared and covered my eyes.  It wasn't a very illuminated experience.

I'm not ready to try that yet.  I mean, I probably am, but I'm not going to.  So I guess in a self for filling prophecy kind of way I'm not ready.  But what I am ready to do is try and get better at my descriptive language.  I think I might have done it at school, but the finny thing about school is, while I was there, I wasn't really too worried about what pieces of knowledge or information I was learning.  I don't think school was really for me.

So here I go…

Sprawled across around 4 seating positions on his living room's L shaped lounge, Bob sat with his laptop in it's place of naming origin and his empty tea mug balanced askew next to him on his left.  The room was a large rectangular space with an entire wall sacrificed to the God of glass and a massive sliding door left ajar letting in the squawks of at least 3 different species of rather annoying birdsong and the occasional shaving of a gust of wind which rushed in only to stop awkwardly when it realised it had reached a dead end.  A candle burned on the coffee table out of Bob's reach filling the room with a sweet aroma that he couldn't describe and the reflection of the flame flashed and spasmed towards him across the cracked varnish of the table's surface giving the place a strangely homely feel.  He didn't know why it should feel strange, it was after all his home.  But Bob hadn't felt particularly comfortable here for a long time.  The candle wasn't his, the lounge wasn't his, the massive sliding door was a part of the house which was also not his.  He just occupied it.

Ok to give you an idea of how naturally that didn't come to me, it took me about 10 minutes to write that last paragraph and about 1 minute to write everything before it.

Also upon re-reading it I don't think it was even that good.  Seemed too wordy.  Actually to be perfectly honest it seems like I just tried too hard.

Maybe I'll start more simple.

In the corner of a large room a brown lounge snaked around the corner and Bob, reclined across the corner of the lounge like the cross beam of a houses roof interior.  An empty tea mug sat to his left in the protected and unused corner of the lounge and a coffee table burning a scented candle sat on his right just out of reach in front of him.  A cold wind blew gusts outside, accompanied by the tweets of birds and occasionally turned visible in the flickering of the candle as it crept inside.

That was another description of exactly the same scene.  It is the scene in which I find myself right now.  I'm Bob in this scene.  Though that's not my name.

Also it does actually feel pretty homely, I'm not sure why I got all emo in the first version there…

I feel like the second version was better, but if you have an opinion please share it.  I'm obviously writing to nobody at this time, but maybe people still stumble across these things from time to time.


Two blog posts in as many days… That's how you know you're spiralling I guess…  I feel as if there will be more but I'll end this here.

Thoughts of a living atheist

Well I suppose I could go on about what's happened in the last 6 years. But I'm not here to catalogue my life. Might be interesting to my Mum if I did, but I hope to God she never reads this.

Not sure why either. I don't suppose it would be that terrible an occurrence.

Anyway here I am again. It seems to me that the most outwardly creative times that I have are always a result of my unhappiness. On a positive note, I haven't written anything for 6 years so that must mean I've been happy for a while right?

It doesn't really feel like that. Actually to be perfectly honest I think I've just had other things to do. But once every 6 years or so I suppose I run out of things to do to distract myself and end up here!

Apologies in advance but I haven't sat down here with a plan of action. I know in the past I've written about an event and maybe cast my feelings around the page about said event to let you all know why I feel the way I do. But really nobody actually enjoys people whining online. I didn't know this 6 years ago, because Facebook was in it's infancy. But I've had it for long enough for it to start primary school now and I have seen enough whiney posts about woe is me to know that it's not becoming.

So today I'm going to write a happy story! Maybe. We'll see. At any rate I'm not here to talk about why I'm here, and rest assured I am here because of an event that happened in my recent past on account of a girl. That's basically my motivation for everything I've decided. But I'm not going to talk about it.

Why do they call it chilli when you feel cold and yet chilli's are a food that burn? Hot burn too! These are the thoughts that keep me up at night.

Stacy was a middle aged man. Not a common name for a middle age man really. But he wasn't a common man so it worked out ok or that's how he saw it. He was unmarried and lived in a small town called Leonard. A town where they made great pies! That's not exactly how the town survived, but Stacey had lived in a few places before he became a resident of Leonard and he liked to think that the pies were the real secret to the success of the locale. I mention that Stacey was unmarried because it is relevant to the story. You see Stacy was a very attractive middle aged man. He hardly even looked middle aged. Maybe early 30's if you saw him from a distance.

He'd lived his whole life looking young for his age and had never really appreciated it until he moved to Leonard. It hit him one afternoon like a football in the face. Not his face though, that would be unpleasant. More like a football in his enemies face that he hadn't even had to kick. Just an instant realisation that something was well with the world. Why was it well now when it hadn't been before? Stacey didn't really know. But he was happy about it nonetheless. He was young looking, single and also rich! Oh, yes I probably should have mentioned that before also. Well now you know. Stacey was quite well off financially. In fact the reason behind that actually lead back to the fact that Stacey was actually very well off luckily. Luck. Not something that people generally associate as a personality trait had played a very strong role in the life of Stacey, he was young looking, fit, healthy and rich. And lucky.

Back when Stacey was in his early 20s he'd been invited to participate in a university study for the school's psychology department. You might have done things like this yourself if you ever went to uni. It usually involved a few hours of your time and was rewarded with course credit or a $20 voucher to the uni bar or something equally as frivolous. Hell, I did a few when I was at uni too! Anyway back to Stacey. He had been involved in a study by his university's psychology department as he was walking between classes one day. He wasn't a psychology student, he was an art student, but someone had asked and he'd accepted because he was happy to help, had a free couple of hours and liked the sound of 5 beers on a tab that he would soon start at the uni bar for the price of none.

He was given a piece of paper with a room name on it which read H Block. Room 29. 10:15. and nothing else. Stacey wasn't really surprised there wasn't anything else written on it, because he'd watched the guy write that on a scrap piece of paper and that was all he had written, and being that it was about 5 past 10 in the morning and stacey was standing at B block he decided to get a move on without asking what the subject of the study was or how long it would take. It's kind of annoying that he never found that out really, because it would have been interesting to think about why he went to this study in retrospect.

About now you might be wondering why I don't just wait till he's at his destination to talk about what it actually was. But Stacey never got there, so you need to be prepared to let this bit of knowledge just float on out of your mind like a dandelion seed on the wind. Stacey arrived at H block in about 5 minutes and was inside the building looking for room 29 when there was a gas explosion. It actually happened in room 27 but the exact location of the explosion isn't too important because the entire block was destroyed in the blast.

The news reported 29 fatalities, 40 injuries and about 10 people who were treated at the scene and released with minor cuts and bruises. It also reported that it was a gas explosion. Because it was. In fact there was absolutely nothing insidious about this explosions at all, except for the death toll and injuries it was the most innocent thing that could have happened to anyone.

Now as you know from the start of this story, Stacey was a middle aged man. So he wasn't killed in this gas explosion. But he was injured. In fact he was very injured. Remember how I told you that he was heading to room 29 but the explosion had happened in room 27? Well Stacey had been standing in the doorway of room 28 at the time the gas ignited. He'd actually been in the process of entering the wrong room. Now remember as well how I told you that Stacey was lucky? Well room 29 was filled with 29 people at 10:15 on that morning. The 29 fatalities. If Stacey had made it to the room he was supposed to be in for the study it would have been 30 killed that day. The ceiling of room 29 had collapsed and as the room had been emptied of all tables, chairs and benches in preparation for the psychological study there had been nothing to protect anyone from the debris. Room 28 on the other hand was where they had moved everything. In fact it was so full of extra furniture that it was the only room in the entire block to not be flattened by the explosion. Stacey was protected from the worst of the shock by the door frame and the suffered very little in the way of scratches, crushing or even burning! He did however take a piece of metal in his back as it was the most exposed part of him when he had opened the door to the room. The piece of metal was about the size of a playing card, actually it was about the same shape as well so for all your mental images just imagine that he'd had a metal playing card lodged in his spine between two of the vertebrae at about the level of his stomach. I suppose you're thinking, well that doesn't really sound like a very lucky day at all you idiot! And you'd be right. It was a very unlucky day. But that's the thing about luck. Weather it's good or bad, it's still luck.

Of course it really does depend on your point of view. While Stacey did end up in a wheelchair because of the gas explosion, he also survived because of sheer chance and ended up receiving a substantial pay out due to the mismanaged care of the gas infrastructure. I did tell you he was rich didn't I? Well it was a very substantial pay out but I wouldn't say it made him rich. And really, how rich can you be when your legs don't work? You're certainly not outwardly rich in quality of life are you?

But Stacey's story is only just beginning at this point. Lets fast forward a few months. Stacey spent most of that time in hospital, being at first rushed, then calmly wheeled into different surgeries to operate on his back… He had learned how to use his wheelchair and was even introduced to one doctor who told him that in about a year's time he'd be ready to try an experimental procedure that could potentially restore feeling below his waist. Not function, but feeling was better than the numbness that he dealt with now. As well as this he'd finalised his pay out with the university and had met with a

Ok I'm going to stop now. This got boring. This is why you should make a plan before you start writing. Um.. To cut a long story short his legs got better and due to a great investment strategy his money exponentially increased.

Also he got married and lived happily ever after enjoying good pies bought in the town of Leonard.

Happy story see!

TTFN sorry about wasting your time like that. At least you didn't have to write it.

I whine a LOT!

So..

Haven't posted for a while... Not sure that's much of an issue but it does say something about my busyness/dysthymia levels of late.. Or I think it probably does.. I seem to only write stuff here when I'm in a crappy mood.. And then á la crappy mood I whine and bitch about something for the entire duration of my overly durational post and feel better at the end..

Today I aim to write in a more happy light.. Though I suppose my previous paragraph won't go too far towards helping that.. I am actually in a crappy mood as I mentioned I seem to have to be to write here.. But I'm not going to go into that tonight..
So.. I shall move along and write about other things..

What to write about... Um.. Well I'm nearly finished uni! I have exams for the next week.. And in that time I have one.. Then, 4 days off then another one and then another one the day after.. Yay for the possibility of being finished with uni!

I don't like uni.. I think that's probably got something to do with the fact that where I live (being my country) moving away to go to uni isn't that big a thing.. And due to this I've stayed at home for the duration of my studies (except when I took a year off after my first year of horrible boredom at uni and went overseas).. That was a good time.. If I had moved out of home I think things would have been much more fun, they seem to be for all the people that I know who don't live at home anymore and considering the fact that I don't like my parents to know everything about me, it would have allowed me to do more things.. (And by things I pretty much mean bringing drunk girls home.. However as you all know from my previous posts I haven't done that..)

Basically I think that it's stunted me a bit.. I'll get over it..

Annoyingly although I am super close to the start of my final exams.. Other people such as my little brother (who's in 2nd year) are super close to the end of theirs.. So it's kinda frustrating.. He'll be finishing tomorrow.. Exactly a week before me.. Grr little brother! *shakes fist*

In other news I started playing ice hockey in an actual comp this month.. We've now had 4 games.. And after losing the first two by significant margins we got a new goalie and have since won 4-1 two games in a row.. I got an assist last week so I'm happy about that..

You might be thinking.. 'An assist? Seriously? That's it?' And if you are.. Well yeah fair enough, it's a bit lame.. But I'm playing in a comp that is way out of my league (cause I couldn't make the easier comp due to conflicting commitments) and it's my first ever ice hockey comp..

And I really need to master the offside rule.. We don't really have hockey here.. So I haven't grown up with this stuff.. I need to learn fast cause it's messing up my confidence and if I can't play confident then I don't play hard enough..

That was probably more of a note to self, than something worth writing up here.. But it's there now and I treasure my uncounted word count too much to backspace it...

To give you an idea of the level that I play at though, there's a guy from the Sydney Bears in my team..

The Sydney Bears being the equivalent of an NHL team in America.. Though as I'm in Australia our standards are quite a bit lower than the American/Canadian ones I'm sure.. But still.. He's good..


Um... I got a new mobile! Yay!.. It's good and I now have a reliable mp3 player again as my last one didn't last more than an hour on it's battery and was full.. I'll just say right now that it's not an iPhone.. Cause I hate iPods and iPhones.. Not Apple.. I use a Mac laptop.. But yeah.. I'm not rocking the iPhone.. But its basically an iphone lol...

One problem however that I didn't think about when I ordered my new phone was that it is on a 2 year contract.. No problem.. I'm sure I can scrounge up the money for it but it kinda locks me in Australia for the next two years unless I want to go overseas and pay for global roaming/an unused phone.. So this kind of messes up any aspirations I may have had of taking some wild 'Woo I've finished Uni' world working trip that I had actually considered.. Up till a few weeks ago...

So yeah.. Finishing uni.. Now I'll actually have to get a job.. This is another thing that I really can't talk about.. I have no idea what I want to do.. My degree isn't one that just shuffles me into a certain industry like a lot of my friends are doing.. And even if it was.. I'm kinda over this area of study anyway so I wouldn't want to be shuffled like I would be anyway.. So I don't know what's going to happen to me as far as that's concerned.. Probably I'll just get some crappy till-I-sort-myself-out job and then forget that it was only supposed to be a place holder and end up doing it for way too long.. I'm not the sort of guy that gets fired.. I guess that's a credit to me though right!

So yeah.. Good chance that if I continue to post these late night rants my future topics become quite employment orientated..

And that's pretty much all I have for you today children/parents/zombies.. Hope everything's going peachy on your endz..

Cya!

Heatbeats, Ancient Proverbs and of course A Girl...

It's 12:47am and I'm trying to sleep..

Well I was anyway, I turned off the movie I was watching (No it wasn't porn) and decided it was time to sleep, I have to get up tomorrow morning after all and I want to be all bright eyed and bushy tailed for my big day!

So then I'm lying around with my eyes closed trying to get comfortable and all I can hear is that stupid freaking song by Madison Avenue 'Don't Call Me Baby'.. WTF! Admittedly I did talk about it yesterday with my brother, but I hated that song 10 years ago when it came out, and tonight.. I hate it anew.

That's only partially the problem though, the real problem is that I can't get to sleep. My heart's racing. I don't consider it insomnia because as soon as I can get my heart rate down I can sleep but this does seem to happen to me a few times a week.. Well maybe only once a week, I guess it varies.

I'm lying here and I'm thinking "far out my heart is loud".. It's beating and the springs in my mattress are echoing it, and my bed (which is fairly rickety as it's made of wood) is bouncing softly against a power outlet in the wall to the overly fast rhythm that my cardiac muscle is pumping out...

This is also a problem that I have sometimes.. Particularly when I'm on my laptop trying to do work, I'll be sitting still but my bed will be tap tap tapping along merrily..

---

I've been thinking about a girl again, one of the usual's I suppose. Her name's (oh wait I don't do names..) she's the one that I mentioned in an earlier post who's pretty much everything I'd like in a chick if only she wasn't 3 and a half years younger than me, cute, athletic, artistic, just that little bit self conscious... You all know her as any female (maybe even male) antagonist in any movie..

Anyway I was thinking about how I saw her again tonight, I saw her and once again stayed clear of her because it's for the best. She's changed her hair, it's now red.

Her hair's usually black with red in it, it looks good, it's different but still not jarring. Tonight it was just red, shiny red. And underneath it it was light, probably because she had to bleach it before she could get that colour out of it. And Although I think she'd probably still be pretty with no hair, and although I like coloured hair, it didn't look as good as she usually does... I didn't really think about it till I was lying here trying to sleep though.

But now that I have thought about it it's occurred to me.

Why would someone colour their hair that much?

And the reason that jumps out at me is for attention. I have a little bit of experience in attention seeking hair myself. I cut a dual mohawk into my hair once after a thing didn't work out with a girl, at the time I thought I was just trying to enjoy myself but it was more than that, I wanted to change. I wanted to show her that I could do my own thing without her and it was fun, but it didn't stop me hurting.

More recently I cut a checkerboard into my hair, it wasn't about a girl this time, but maybe it was about the lack of one.. Either way, that sort of attention seeking isn't something that someone does when they're happy with their lives...

Or maybe it is and I'm overanalysing, I do do psychology after all...

This girl (who's name shan't grace this page) was a bit quiet tonight.. And her hair's coloured. And she's got her final exams for high school starting on Friday.

Yet it took until 6 hours later for me to think 'huh, maybe she's not happy'.

Some psychology student I am.. Still I am dropping it at the end of the semester so there ya go...

One thing I find interesting about the way I think about this girl is that although I do spend a fair bit of time thinking about her and writing on this about her.. I never sexualise her. I never fantasize anything more than a meaningful conversation with her.. In fact I was fantasizing just asking her how she was doing right before I gave up on going to sleep and turned this on. I just want to know if she's happy, and if she isn't why not and if I can help I'd like to do that too.. But despite my totally straight urges (I say that not because I'm quashing any homosexual tenancies but because it should be noted that I definitely have plenty of pent up desires here) I never think about her like that... I don't know why though...

---

I'm graduating at the end of the semester and I don't know what to do with myself next year. I really don't.

There's a few lame old proverbs hanging around my Taekwondo gym that our coach must have put up to look more authentic. I don't know why he bothered, the dude plays Call of Duty between (and sometimes during) classes and doesn't seem to have a spiritual bone in his body (maybe that's being a bit harsh.. He could just hide it well) but one of them really sticks out at me.. From memory it is 'When we fear love, what we really fear is losing love. Ask yourself, 'what would I do if I knew I couldn't fail.' Now do it, cast off fear"

I really like it, I think because of the first sentence mainly but it seems ultra pertinent to me now as far as my immediate future is concerned...

I ask myself 'what would I do if I knew I couldn't fail?' and I still don't know.

---

Well.. I still don't think I'm sleepy.. But I don't think I've got much more to write here that would be worth reading so I'll leave it there.. Nighty Night..

Where have I been?

Hi everyone..

I'm just kidding.. I know that there's only one person that's actually read any of my stuff and although I would like that to change eventually, I'm pretty happy with her/you.

I have been away from this blog for around 2 months.. That's a pretty decent length of time to just forget about something like this because I did put a few hours into my few posts and I definitely read a few other peoples posts as well.

I'd like to start by saying something about myself.

I'm not really the sort of person that brags about myself, I think I almost am, but I have a brother and a Dad that are those sorts of people and they've caused me to consciously quell most self absorbed outbursts that I feel coming on.

I hope you don't mind, but in this happy place which is my little bubble of the internet I'm going to throw that out the proverbial window... (Funnily I'm on a mac so I'm actually window free, get it :D)

So here goes.. I warn you that this post is going to jump around a fair bit.


I think I'm a pretty awesome person.

Nope, that's a lie.

I actually just think I should be a pretty awesome person.

I have a long list of things about me that should mean that I am an awesome person, yet I remain remarkably un-awesome.

Over the past month I've been flown interstate and actually paid at the same time for an inter-branch competition organised by my work.. I've fought at state level in a Taekwondo competition, I've continued to train for an ice hockey comp which I'll hopefully be starting in next month, I've continued to play in a social inline hockey comp weekly, I've surfed, played guitar in a bit of a band with a friend of mine from Taekwondo, I've worked on my 2 day's off from uni per week (getting up at 5:30AM on Monday mornings (not fun)), I've payed rego for my car and I've looked after myself and my brother because (as I live at home) my parents are overseas...

I didn't lose a fight at my comp but had to pull out because I hurt my feet so badly kicking people that I couldn't walk properly for a week, I may have broken my wrist but never got an X-Ray and still can't block properly, I still can't kick properly at training which I do at least 3 times a week and Nationals is only 6 weeks away.

I've spent around 10 hours per week driving between activities.

I'm also starting to worry about all the uni work I have to do but luckily for me I worked myself out of my extra 2 days a week of work as of this week. So I'll have time to do it now, but I'll be poor.

That was a very cluttered and hard to understand little mini-rant and I apologise for making you read it.

In other news that girl that I mentioned liking waaaay back in blog number 1 dumped her boyfriend, I have stayed away from her. But my brothers girlfriend happens to go to school with said liked girl and keeps bringing her up just to torment me a little more..

I added the other cute girl from uni on facebook(-Argh I mean 'HeadTome') and waited for a month only to find that she had ignored my friend request.. I have since not even seen her at uni.

And I got so desperate for some action that I actually spent money signing up to an online swingers site, which has turned out to be a waste of my limited funds since there are about 500 guy's on it for every 1 hot girl and that ='s bad odds...

I'm starting to feel glad that no-one reads this..

So where am I now? Well I'm up too late when I should be going to sleep because I have uni at 9:30 tomorrow morning.

Back to my original point. I should be an awesome person.. I'm pretty fit, not hard on the eyes, a certified athlete, smart, funny, easy to get along with and I even seem laid back... But I'm not awesome. For some reason all I feel like is someone who's following a recipe for some amazing dessert to the letter but still end up with overcooked crusty banana cake. Yep, that's my analogy for my life. Crusty banana cake.

I think I should point out right now that being single is my cause for my apparent dysthymia right now...

I am stuck in a rut because if I don't get happy I seem less attractive but the only way for me to feel happy with how things are going would be for me to be more attractive to start with..

Ok.. So if you were in a good mood before reading this I apologise for being a bit of a downer on your day. I actually feel a bit better now that I've written all this here if it's any consolation. But thinking about how badly written it is is definitely working against my happy.

I don't really know what I meant to accomplish by putting this up tonight/this morning.. But rest assured I'll probably be back all too soon to write something that does make sense..

Maybe.