valerie: December 2010

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

I think that it is in every parents nature to pressure their children about their futures. Its programed in their DNA to constantly make sure that we know which direction that we're going in and if its a good one. We, the teenagers, take it as nagging. Its that constant voice behind us that not only gets under our skin but more so reminds us that we're not children anymore.

So, we do what any 18 year old does, we argue back. We make it look like we are in control, we have our heads screwed on, and we know what the hell we're doing. Truth is, our parents probably know us too well, we're scared shitless. And then comes that time after the fight, that cooling off period when you realize you probably shouldn't have argued back because the advice was good, after all they do have a house, a car, a job, a family, put you through school and tried to give you everything that you could want but always given you everything you need. So yeah, I think they know a few things about life. Annnnnnd then you feel bad so you go down stairs to apologize only to see them eating lunch all by them selves and you just want to cry. Let me just take a moment to say that this feeling, that one of guilt from arguing with your parents no matter who is wrong, is mind numbingly, stomach cringe, make you want to cry shittest feeling you could have. You know exactly the one that I'm talking about because we alllllllllll know it.

Back to my point. My future. Hmmm. The word itself kind of hurts a little, it makes you wonder how the hell you're going to get to that good established place you need to be in and not hate what you're doing to get it. People say to just live in the moment and then you'll be living life. All I want to know is how? You always have to think about what's coming next. I do. I need a plan, I need security yet independence. I want happiness, love, friendship and stability....

The future. Fuck.

I make my own jewelry now

Living on a diet of Chocolates & Cigarettes

I wanna call you again

Ill drink tea sometimes when its cold

This is getting old

I call you again

Still too young to fail, too scared to sail away

But one of these days Ill grow old

And Ill grow brave and Ill go

One of these days

Blowing out the candles from my cake

I choke on the smoke as I look around the room

Everybodys wishing for no more mistakes

And all that I can think about is you

Still too young to fail, to scared to sail away

But one of these days Ill grow old

And Ill grow brave and Ill go

One of these days

La da la da la da

Still too young to fail, to scared to sail away

But one of these days Ill grow old

And Ill grow brave and Ill go

One of these days

La da la da la da

Friday, December 17, 2010

Pinch me.

I taste like bubblegum. Kiss me.

I think that I should write this dream down before I forget any part of it, not that I ever think I could. This was a while ago, and it was morning when my family was in my room watching me because I was sitting up in bed screaming and crying like I was being murdered, then I lay down and was completely calm. I woke up a minute after that in actual pain, it was the most disturbing dream I have ever had in my life. aaaanyway...

I remember I was at this camp place and it was all girls, it was like my year 7 camp except girls from my new school where there as well. I was about lunch time and everyone was kind of quietly sitting around on the benches outside eating those really good salad roles that the lunch ladies used to make. Anyway, my friend Olivia (who I am not really close with so I found this odd) was with me and she asked me to come with her to the bathroom. So as we got up I looked around and the scene looked normal but it didn't feel right. So we got to the bathroom and they looked like festival toilets, you know those long cubical ones they have at big day out and good vibes? Except these were dirty which grossed me out but I had to pee so whatever. I opened the door to the cubical and it looked worse, I closed the door behind me and turned around. The back of the door was filthy but looked like it was about to break from all the scratches on it. They were tiny scratches but they looked violent because of the obvious blood through the bare wood. Further up on the door was a frame with pictures in it. Now normally these frames have adds for tampons or the pill but these were a series pictures of a pregnant woman covered in blood with a figure standing next to her holding a coat hanger. In each picture she looked like she was in agony and the final one was her lying on the floor with a baby next to her. I realized these pictures were of a woman having a home abortion and the scratches and blood on the door were from girls doing the same.

I screamed and got the hell out of the cubical only to find Olivia on the floor in a pool a blood and a baby in the sink of the bathroom. I ran out screaming for help but I wasn't going fast enough and I didnt know why so. I looked down and saw my enormous belly, I was pregnant too. This wasn't year 7 camp, outside the bathroom was a chapel and signs saying something about abomination and salvation, I had to get out. I saw my Lit teacher Debbie and ran toward her screaming that they were trying to take my baby, but she grabbed onto me and held me down. Then it ended.

Reading over this made me feel disgusting, but I had to write it down.

interesting.

Whos that girl?

Bah. That is all I have to say about this entire week. Just, Bah.

Surgery is not glamorous, in fact it is horrible which is why, after 4 days of laying down on my right side (because fuck knows why lying on my back or left side is uncomfortable) I have finally sat up and got dressed. You know how some people say that they just want to stay in the pajamas for days and do nothing? Yeah those people are idiots, its boring and after a while you feel kind of yuckie.

Im dressed head to toe in black, mourning the death of my social life this weekend, bar my burberry scarf, thats reminding me that all hope is not lost and it really isn't the end of the world, even though I'm being dramatic and making it out to be so.

Key hole surgery, two friggin holes in my abdomen have caused me the most discomfort I think a human being should be allowed to experience. I mean I know its no heart transplant but fuck if I'm whining about this everybody that has undergone ANY surgery has my deepest sympathies.

AAAAAnyway with so much time on my hands and the inability to move around without severe pain these past couple of days I haven't done much but cry a little here and there, watched massive amounts of Gilmore Girls and Charmed (give me a break, I've just had an operation I think I deserve to watch tv shows that the vast majority frown upon) and thought. Oh, its so dangerous. Boys are stupid. Enough said about that.

Also, I've been looking through photos and laughing at all the 16 year olds at rats and derby and instead of thinking to myself "fuck, I'm so glad I'm not that gay" I actually kind of miss the dirty streetparty nights when I was underage. These days, shits died down. All I do is work and work and when I'm not at working I'm thinking about work...This isn't how an 18 year old that is not even 2 months out of school should be living. Sure I'm making vast amounts of money and I frown upon the inferior that rely on the doll (MUHAHAHHA, what? I'm a bit of a bitch) but theres just no more fun. I miss the partying days...oh christ I sound like my sister. I want to be a stupid teenager again, there was just so much more excitement!

One of the jobs is going to have to go :(

Alright, I have to pee which is now an hour long task: 1. Get up without hurting stitches 2. Walk 3. Keep walking 4. Sit down......I wont go into the gory detials cos I'm pretty sure you know how to take a piss, my point is, is that it takes forever.

BYE

Monday, December 13, 2010

THE ocean is a home, a path; it is violent, rich, calm…and an escape. It is a underwater world so perfect compared to ours that not even we could just live there with all the fishies. Unfortunately, our survival depends upon oxygen; this being a gas the deep blue does not accommodate for.

Its not just the sea though, I think its anywhere that you can swim. Even though a pool isn’t as ideal as floating through the mazes of the coral reef world in Cairns, it’s the feeling of just being underwater that is unlike any no matter where you are….(unless you’re drowning which isn’t good)

Do you remember bath time when you were 4? For me it was the highlight of the day, because it wasn’t just bath time like my mother intended, it was playtime. Some days, I would pretend that I was a pirate; other times it was Olympic athlete, ocean girl (yes like the tv show!) and, my personal favourite, mermaid. Underwater, I would close my eyes and hold my breath as long as I could and imagine that I was swimming (like a Disney mermaid) across the ocean to a secret lagoon. There, the cave walls would sparkle because naturally, in the world of 4 year old pretend, they weren’t just made of rock; the walls were made of opals, emeralds, pearls, rubies, sapphires and diamonds. Through the small cave decorated with sea flowers, corals and obviously treasure, I would swim to the shore of my own private beach. Low hanging palm and fruit trees, rock pools and friendly sea animals to talk to, just like Ariel, I would lay in my hammock soaking up the warmth of the radiating sun just happy in my own secluded world of pretend.

Naturally, things have changed since bath time at age 4. I grew up, started and finished school, began working and left my world, my lagoon, my mermaid and ocean girl adventures to my favourite bed time story character, Peter Pan. I know he would keep it safe.

These days during summer, on one of our road trips we, like everyone else, spend days at the beach. Starting early and then leaving in time to get ready to go out that night, we come home with sunburn, beach hair (YAY!) and salty skin. From 1pm till about 5 in the afternoon the sun hurts even in the shade, the only relief is the water. While some idiots are tanning, others go out to get us lunch, and we just hang out in shallow end, sitting down and talking or laughing while the boys attempt to play some sort of sport on the scorching white sand. There is a time though, when everything begins to wind down. The air is sultry the setting sun is red, fiery and the sky is pink and blue. Now is that time to take the last dip in the water to clean all the sand off yourself. It is then that I, in that moment that used to be hours, escape back to my lagoon. Even though years have passed it remains completely unchanged, just how I left it the last time I visited my secret world. Coming up for air means coming back to reality which at that point is ‘shit what am I going to wear tonight, I am so sun burnt mum is going to kill me’.

The ocean, as they say, holds many secrets. Everybody has that moment of silence underwater, that moment when your head is clear and you can just think, these are the secrets that fill the ocean. Our imagination, our thoughts and true feelings and our past.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Exactly.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Im in lust with the new Chanel collection

Thursday, December 2, 2010

You've got your gods, I've got mine.

Its the third day of summer and I tend to do this thing where when the seasons change I wish for the last one to come back, but when I have it I don't want it. Its like me and guys. Anyway this post isn't about males, as stupid as they are I'm sorry I need to take my mind off it for a few minutes.

I love socks and heels, chunky socks and chunky heels make me purr a little. Not only is it warm but it can go either way, like shopping and then to a dinner and afterward for drinks. Because its heels, its dressy but the socks make it casual. Going for that whole "oh i just woke up like that" look works well with this, wear your hair in a loose bun (day) and then let it out so its naturally wavy at night you'll have some added effortless sex appeal with your martini.

If you have daddy long legs then wear this with jeans, but otherwise with the socks on top of stockings then go a little dress and coat, oversized scarf and cute tea cosy...tres chic lady.

And on a last note, just because I love it, red lippy. Because it to can be cute, sophisticated, sexy and just plain cool. Enjoy the snow you lucky bitches.

SMOOCH.