...mega...annoyed.

So I am in the middle of reading Dengeki Daisy. Yes, it's Shoujo manga, and yes I am allowed to be girly now and then.

My day actually started off really crap. Nightmare about something I couldn't control, followed by major anxiety, until eventually I got up off my ass and went for a drive/walk. By the way, did anyone ever notice how nice it is to see old people do Tai Chi and stuff in the park? I love it! Part of me can barely wait to do it too!!!!

There was one strikingly magical moment (and slightly horrifying/gross) where I was walking, when suddenly this huge flock of birds (pigeons, ducks, those strange hooked nose birds) just migrated from one side of the path to the other --with me standing right in the middle. It was a flurry of fluttering and beating of wings. At first I just stood there, transfixed as they moved around me. And then of course I ducked as one zipped past my head. Following that there was the horribly panicky moment where I wondered if I would get pooped on.

...Sorta broke the whole 'magical element' of it. Afterwards, my head felt itchy and I started panicking about fleas or flea-like parasites that may have jumped off the birds, onto me.

But hey, that one brief moment before all that --totally worth it.

...Why wasn't anyone there to see it?! Namely, why weren't there any goodlooking men on their way to work (maybe even a doctor bahaha) that would look across the park and be transfixed by the sight of a small asian girl caught in the middle of a flurry of wings and feathers?!

It was a movie moment and nobody was there to witness it! BAH! MEGA HUMBUG!

Spent the rest of the day reading Hatsukoi Limited, and then Dengeki Daisy. Didn't help that "You've got mail" starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks was on tv tonight too. I was all charged up on romantic daydreams, which were then crushed by the realization of harsh reality (that I'd gained weight and couldn't get it off, plus have no romantic life right now, hmm...).

What's worse? Well, you always know immediately when a good friend has found a new romantic target. How? Well, they simply start ignoring you. Bah.

Yes, I am jealous!! Why?! Because he's probably out there living out my romantic dreams!! Not fair! I want a Mr. Darcy! Where's my gripping love comedy?!

This is exactly how I feel when somebody wins the lottery. I maintain that it was my money and they had no business winning it. No business at all!!!

*rolls around*

...How is it that there are so many men in this world and I can't find one that can charm me even a little?! (Well, probably because I was in the country was 2 months, in Hong Kong for 10 days, then under house arrest due a terrible flu for around about a month now).

The only contact with a possible male lead was when I called for an ambulance. Man he was cute, that paramedic.

Too bad I was in a singlet, my PJ shorts and hadn't shaved my legs. Oh, and did I mention the rash-moustache from wiping my nose non-stop?! ARGHHH


...


...


...Whoever is in charge of writing the plots for my love life needs to come back from their vacation and do their job! GRRRR...

meanwhile.

I want to be thin.


Man...this sucks. *throws things*

ps. Lump in breast. Fibroadenema (or whatever). Need to see specialist. Want to cut it out.

...I wonder if they'll let me keep it. Hmmmmmmmmm...

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At around 1:30am today I received a facebook message that a young woman I once worked with had passed away on Tuesday this week.

Her name was Corin Westwood-Jones. When I went to my interview to get that job, she was the first person I met. She was the receptionist that greeted me. Then as time went by, she became our stand-in manager.

I always thought she was the nicest. I always thought she was wonderful. God, I thought I had gone through life saying everything I ever wanted to, to people so that I would never regret it, but I haven't.

Here I am saying, "I wish I had told Corin all this."

And I can't.

I don't really believe in --or know what happens after a person dies. I don't know if she can sense this, or ever find out I felt these things. I can't imagine...whether --I dont know what I'm typing anymore.

"Rest in peace" is what people say when someone dies. What does that mean? I say that when I don't feel very much for those people.

I wasn't close to Corin. The pain I feel is slight and nothing compared to those who loved her most.

I want to say, "I am glad to have known you. I am glad to have met you. I wish I had said this to you. I am sorry you are gone. This world is a sadder place without you."

The last part sounds cliche, but it's true. Corin was a wonderful person. You could tell by just talking to her. She was always all smiles, all kind words. I loved her, not like a close friend or family member, or lover would --but as someone who is glad to have known her, to have spoken to her, and to have had the honour of being brushed by her in this life as we passed each other by.

I am glad to have met you. Thank you, and wherever you are now, I wish you well from the very bottom of my heart.


I dont have the heart to delete this, but I don't want anyone to read this because a blog post cheapens everything. This isn't meant to be a corny post. This is what I feel, and nobody should really need to read this and I don't want you to. I just dont have the heart to delete this.

Tackle Liberals before it's too late.

Tackle "extreme Islam before it's too late"

Me again. With another rant.

So picture yourself on the train. The train stops at the next station and two men stroll into the carriage. One is an unshaven, beer-smelling, slack mouthed bogan, and the other is a clean, quiet, well-mannered man wearing Muslim garb.

Who would you rather sit next to you?

Well, I know my answer wouldn't be the bogan.

Now I've moved around alot. Almost once every year since I was born, to be exact (or rather, not really, because I said 'almost'...but close enough).

I've met all sorts of people.

You've got the:

- nice worldly people with uncommon good sense
- nice enough people who aren't very worldly but are open minded
- nice enough people who aren't worldly at all but...think they are (they're harmless enough, just ignore them if they start talking)
- nice enough people who couldnt care less about the world
- close minded bigots whose entire world revolves around backward values

Or variations of the above.

I'm sorry, but I've never quite warmed to the last lot. Unfortunately, they're everywhere.
I saw a news program a few months ago where they were discussing how Muslim women should not be allowed to cover their faces in Australia.
One woman was interviewed and said, "I think they're scary. Yeah, (sic) because I can't see their faces."
I sat there and gaped at the television screen. Was she SERIOUS?!
Personally I think her ignorance is scarier.
Then you've got all these numbskulls talking about "Well, if you move to Australia, you have to embrace the Australian lifestyle."

I'm sorry, I was born here, all my friends growing up were white, and I actually hate BBQing in 40 degree heat. Are you going to deport me?

WTF is this 'Australian lifestyle' I keep hearing about?

All right, I'll admit it, I do think people should at least learn English. I mean, it's really ridiculous to expect to live in a country and not speak its language (although plenty of Americans do that in Hong Kong and nobody really says anything about that but whatever...). At the same time, why should a person give up their culture?

I love being an Australian Born Chinese. I love Chinese New Year, I love chinese food and I love Jet Li. I am not giving up Jet Li for Shane Warne. I'm just not. Firstly, Shane is a chubby cheating attention-whore, and secondly because Jet is infinitely cooler. Thirdly because he can kick your ass and played the best Wong Fei Hong ever.

I thought being Australian was about being open-minded and embracing other cultures. What's this awesome multiculturalism we keep boasting about? Where's that going to go if we expect everyone to go all bogan once their feet touch this soil?

And most importantly, where the hell do you people think you're going to get good food?
Australian cuisine is actually crap. You know it, I know it. If you all ate snags and backed beans everyday you'd die. Or want to. It all amounts to the same thing really.

I am so angrified by this article I want to go and strangle bogans. Just take them by their horrible stringly hair and strangle them with it. Then bathe in dettol.

Because people are liars.

So I'm sitting here, thinking about the 13 year old boy who was swept away by floodwaters to his death, along with his mother. And I'm trying to imagine his fear, his terror, as he tells the lone rescuer (alone among many people who are only standing by, watching) to take his little brother first. (Read original article here)

I'm wondering, what that old man felt as he watched the rope he'd tried to tie around mother and son, snap. What was he feeling as he watched them swept away? What would you feel?

Would you have been the bystander, or the helper?

I'm also sitting here, looking at that event page I created to encourage people to donate, to help people in QLD. A measly 24 (now 28 OMG...pretty stoked actually lol), including myself, among 223 friends invited, pmed and so forth.

Now, give or take, I'll say maybe 5-10 more people maybe donated and didn't click attend. But what about people who don't care enough? It doesn't matter that they don't care really, but these are some of the people who talked about their handbags and bra sizes to 'raise awareness for Breast Cancer' (yes, because we didn't know what it was. Really, we needed to work through the riddle of your status to find out). Or they changed their profile pictures to 'raise awareness for Child Abuse' (yes, because that will stop the pedos).

Would I be the rescuer? Or would I be the bystander?

It's none of my business.
I can't do anything to help.
Other people will do it so they don't need me.

We all like to think we'd help. We all like to condemn others for not helping, but really, come the time we need to step up and help someone --do we? Of course not. Very few actually do. We always wait to see if anyone will do it first. It's called the Bystander Effect --and fact is, most of us will be the Bystander.

Now, don't get me wrong, I never really go crusading. I'll help, but usually, you'll have to shoot me before I stand up and actively try and make other people do the same. Why? I hate the responsibility --but at least I admit it.

Maybe this year I just got sick of being quiet. Sick of reading through mundane statuses, sick of reading statuses like 'Red' or 'On the table' --sick of bull shit.

And yeah, I've been guilty of the same. I'm ashamed of it, and dammit, I won't do it again.

I think if you want to help, if you want to say you're a good person, then go out and be one. If you want to help with the Breast Cancer cause, donate. Take that stupid cartoon off your profile picture and volunteer for something.

Otherwise, you're just lying to yourself.

Don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to help, not really caring, having other things to do. Life is hectic, and you have bills, you have social events, you have work. Sometimes you just don't have anything to give at the moment.

But admit it. Don't lie yourself. If you care, you do something about it. If you don't care at the moment, don't pretend to. Next time you update your status to something stupid, ask yourself how much you're really doing.

Being a Bystander isn't what's wrong. Telling yourself you're not one, when you really are --that's wrong.

You might say that admitting it alone won't do anything. You're not correct there. If you don't admit it, you can never change --because you'll never see the need to --because in your head, you're perfect. If you can admit it, then you might change, you have the option of changing, because you know there's room for it.

My new years resolution: To stop lying to myself. Wtf are you going to do this year?

Racist Australia

Now, like alot of other Australians, when India reared its head and screamed that Australians were racist during that horrible investigation into attacks on Indian students, I stood up and said "WTF?! Australia isn't racist!"

And now, I've realized, 'no...no...actually, some Australians are so racist they should have been born 50 years ago.'

Why the change of heart?

Read here,

and here.

So who else is sick of "Foreigners are taking all our jobs" or "All Muslims are evil" or "if people want to live in Australia, they should live the 'Australian way'".

What the fuck is the 'Australian Way'? And who are these people?
I certainly haven't met any of them in real life. So thereby, they must hide or pretend to be decent, modern citizens during the day and only reveal their racist selves under the cover of night.

Rich people's poetry.

Now here's what I noticed. There is one young lady that I know of who blogs, writes, dances, sings, draws, explores and seems to be trying her very best to show off how spectacularly wonderful she is.

Now she is not alone in her amazing powers of the arts (heed sarcasm)--there are HEAPS of them out here. ('Here' being on the web and real life and 'them' being rich little kiddies who have too much time and money for their own good.)

Now here's my:
Slab of delicious red meat?
No.
Here's my beef.

For centuries, the arts have been primarily excelled at by those who have two things: Wealth and Time.

Now in my opinion, if you have wealth, you most likely have time. Far be it from me to judge (although it's actually not very far at all, in fact, I lie. I judge.) but would that we all have so much time and money --surely we'd all be spectacular at everything right?

If everyone's papa had the funds to let them travel the world writing and dancing then really, everyone could be very accomplished in both those things.

Call me bitter and jealous --for I am, and rightly so. Resentful even. I can't help but feel this injustice smack bam into my face. Nothing irritates me more than the wealthy priding themselves on their endless pursuits in perfecting their 'arts' when really, who cares? What are they doing but masturbating their (deluded) sense of social value?

So you dance well?
Great!
You can string words together?
WONDERFUL!

What?!
You've written poetry about nothing and something all at the same time and it's so wonderful that it leaves people scratching their heads because they don't really understand it, but dont want anyone to know it, so they just exclaim, "MARVELLOUS! Aren't you just marvellous?!" just so no one knows that they don't get it.

(You can't even blame them because really, most of those self-proclaimed poets aren't writing poetry at all. They're just writing in their own crazy code. No one save a highly experienced psychologist with extensive practice in psychoanalysis would be able to decode that crap.)

To be honest, if poetry was just a couple of sentences, paragraphed and obscure in meaning, then we can all be poets. See below:

A cloud, evanescence in obtuse,
bequeath a slow be-symphony

Haveth not all that can be,
A soliliquy of one's self and

in Essence,
A song of mut meanalysis.
What is a porterhouse?

Now, at least I know that the above is worse than crap. Worse actually. It's crap spewed from a diseased cow, consumed by a bogan donkey, digested in that donkey's mouldy intestine, excreted from the donkey's pimpled arse only to be consumed once again by an illiterate monkey, who is then drowned in sewerage and later consumed by a human who will then go completely insane, lose the function of his brain and then crap all over the walls. He then takes a quill formed from a feather plucked from a flea infested pigeon and dips it in the said crap to produce the above piece of ULTIMATE CRAPNESS.

Yeah, and it's still better than the shit those rich infidels spout.


Message of the day: You're not a poet, you're not a Beethoven incarnate, you can't dance like Michael Jackson (not a reference to Wongfu video on yt --that was actually pretty cool), you aren't more talented than other people --you're just lucky.

Be a decent human being and get off your high horse to help an old lady across the road once in a while. And if you can, try to help the smelly ones who are probably dying and lost, rather than the perfectly well dressed, actually only 50 yrs old, ladies who are happily crossing the roads themselves.

trying really hard to let things go...but ...MIND RAGE.

So,

Have you ever felt like

but you pretended you were:

?

Well, I'm feeling it now. Thankfully, I'm reading Phillipa Gregory's "Early Joys". One should, as Sir Robert Cecil said in that book, act on the practical, rather than on principle.

Who would it benefit if I raged at the person who offends my morals at this point? Not me. So why do it?

Still.Angry bear.