New Year's Eve

I'm going to a raging house party tonight at my friend's boyfriend's house. He's only 19 and a self-made millionaire.

After that, I'm going away for awhile, so there'll be no posts for a bit. When I get back I'll let you all know about how my conversation with Isaiah went, and whether I picked up any hotties at the beach.

Lots of love,

Sixteen Secrets.

Parties, Isaiah, New Year's.

I went to a party the other night, and got very, very drunk. I needed to drown out the constant thoughts of Isaiah, as it was beginning to kill me a little bit. I was very hungover the next morning, but at the same time felt suprisingly good. He no longer hogs my thoughts, and I'm not spending the whole day waiting for him to text me. I have, however wondered what happened to our friendship, and I have told him that we need to talk when he gets the chance, just so I know where I stand in his life. Once I know, I'll be able to move on with my life.

I also tried a ciggerette at the party. I had one puff and it was the most revolting thing I've ever had in my entire life. I have no understanding of why someone would want to do that to themselves. Ugh. I had to wash it down with a big swig of Vault.

I don't have a New Year's resolution yet. I can't think of one. My last year's one was (I found it after trawling through my blog) to "throw everything I've got at 2008, don't regret anything and have FUN." I guess I mostly suceeded in it. I did regret stuff, but who doesn't? I want to have a different resolution this year, but a similar one. I'm going to a raging house party for New Year's. Hopefully I can get a New Year's kiss!

Meaning of Christmas

I spent much of Christmas Day reflecting. And a lot of my thinking was about Isaiah. selfish fool that I am, I'm actually jealous of both his girlfriend and his baby. How dare they take up his attentions!

I began to think about how much he means to me. He's both my best friend and this fantastic guy with whom I seem to be madly in love with. I've never been further with a guy before, and no guy has treated me with such respect. And although it shouldn't of happened, I wouldn't stop it from  happening again. I have fantasies in my head where his nose doesn't start bleeding and we get very carried away. He's the only person who's asked about how my grandad is doing, and that touches me. He's also the only person who truly believes in what I want to do, and the only one who believes I'll get there.

I don't think he's aware of how much he means to me. Maybe one day I'll tell him.

Merry Christmas!

I want to wish you all a very merry Christmas. I know it's two days early, but I won't have time on Christmas, because I'll be too busy doing the family stuff that I can't be bothered with.

Don't drink too much, and don't let the stress of the season wear you down.

Love you all,

Sixteen Secrets

Needs

I stumbled across the realisation last night that people don't need me nearly as much as I'd like to think they do.

How often do I get a text from someone that I haven't previously texted? Perhaps once in a blue moon.

Am I people's sole confidante? Do people come to me with their problems? Not very often.

When I leave in late February, will people forget about me instantly? Will I have left a lasting impression on the people I've known for almost five years, or will I just be "that girl we used to know?"

Summer

Goodness. I can't believe that it's just seven days until Christmas. This year feels like it's been quite long, but all of a sudden it's nearly over!

We're truly into Summer here, and it's great. I spent three hours by a pool baking in the sun today, despite the constant bombardments of warnings about skin cancer. That's what the sun screen's for, right?

Babies, Friendship and TV.

I think I'm a lot more emotionally caught up in this than I realised. It's not that I want this to go further, it's not like I want him to be mine. I just... well that's just it. I don't know. I've never been that far with a guy before, and I've never had a guy say things like, "I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with," to me, and check that I'm ok.

I'm also seriously worried about our friendship. And not because of this, but because of what our futures hold. He's already busy working two jobs so we don't get to talk as much anymore, and I'm scared that when the baby comes he'll forget all about me, and then I'll move away, and our friendship will be over. It doesn't help that everything I've been watching lately seems to feature pregnancy. It's like it's punching me in the face, reminding me that Isaiah will never be able to fully be my friend because he's got some other life. Fuck.

On a completely different note, go out and rent Outrageous Fortune, which is a NZ drama-comedy. It's fantastic.

Revelation My Arse

Some revelation. 

Last night Isaiah came over. We were just hanging out, watching movies. I cooked him dinner, cause we'd both just finished work. We sat down and watched August Rush (highly recommended), and then I made him watch Sex and the City (also recommended). Except we both fell asleep on the couch while watching it. I was lying on his chest. I swear I didn't mean it in any way other than a mate falling asleep on another mate. I hadn't dressed up for him or anything. I was wearing sweatpants, my armpits were unshaven and my sinuses were full of snot. Throughout our snooze, we got closer and closer. I woke up and my head was on the middle of his chest, my arm up around his neck. His hand was on my hip, the other resting on the arm around his neck. His hand (I think it was his. I'm not sure how this whole thing started) slowly moved down onto my bum. I sighed a little and rolled closer. He brought his leg up and slipped it between mine.

I'm not really sure how we got to the next stage (I was sober, by the way, but perhaps a little dozy), but I was on top of him and his hands were on my behind, and he was kissing my neck. He went to slip his hands inside my waistband, but I pulled them up. He stopped immediately and wrapped his arms around my waist and rocked me softly.

"I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with," he said, rubbing my back. If I had half a mind I would have sent him home (he wasn't supposed to be staying the night) or gotten into my own bed, but I didn't. I stayed on top of him as he continued to rub my back, almost massaging it. Things got a bit hot and heavy again, but once again he stopped, my legs wrapped tightly over his hips.

"We can't. No protection," he said. I think that if he had said, "I have a condom," I would have lost it last night. Instead, I laughed little bit and asked quietly,

"Are you staying the night?" At three in the morning I would have thought the answer was fairly obvious.

"Yes."

"Would you like a proper bed?"

"That'd be nice." I rolled off him and got off the couch, grabbing his hand. My house was empty. I could have sent him into one of the many bedrooms with beds, but instead, I took him to mine where we both hopped into my junior single. He's over 6 ft. It was a tight fit. 

Once again, I don't know how it happened, but somehow he was on top of me and we were making out. His hands were roaming again, but I didn't mind anymore. He started rubbing me, and I lifted my hips a bit in encouragement. His hands slipped past my waistband, then into my underpants. He massaged me all the while kissing me. Then he slipped one finger inside me. Then another, and then-

"Is your nose bleeding?"

"What?" He said, his fingers slipping out of me and up to his nose. I had thought he was a bit sloppy, turns out it was blood. I got up and sneaked off to the bathroom before he found the light switch. Sure enough, blood all over my face. I washed my face and then soaked a flannel with warm water. I went back into my room and flicked the lamp on. I sat behind him and washed his face and his now bloody hands.

"How ironic that it's the guy that bleeds," he said. I chucked the flannel aside and turned the light back off.

"You can be on top this time," he joked. I lay on top of him but didn't do anything. "Your heart's beating so fast I think it might stab me."

"Maybe your nose bleeding was a sign," I said, kissing his forehead and rolling off him. I snuggled into his chest and together we fell asleep.

It was awkward when we got up. He left pretty quickly. We had a bit of a laugh, but neither of us really knew what to say. We texted each other later and agreed that it shouldn't have happened, and that we're definitely not going to tell anyone. I know I said that I didn't want to be the other woman, but to be honest, the guilt hasn't really hit me. I'm more concerned that we've lost our friendship. I don't think we have, as we're texting each other now and we're both on the same page in regards to it. We'll wait and see, I guess.

P.S. Don't comment if you're going to lecture me. It's not what I want.

Revelations

Call it what you will. A realisation, a revelation, an epiphany. The other day, I had one. 

I was texting Isaiah, and I had sent him a text that his girlfriend read. I hadn't intended it as flirty, but she obviously took it that way. I got a text from him a few moments later that said, "holy shit. My girlfriend just read that. I'm in trouble." Fear shot through me.

I realised that I didn't want to be that girl. I don't want to be the other woman. I don't want to be the girl that breaks up a couple (especially a couple with a baby on the way). He managed to convince her that we were just friends, a role that I am now more than happy to fill. Now more than ever he's going to need a friend and I've realised that I want to be a part of his life forever, and it was never going to happen if we messed around.

This was my first epiphany, and I loved it.

Random Hook Ups

I blog far too frequently. I've finished school for ever, and don't go to university until March, so time is on my side. I'm also too broke to do anything, and after Saturday night, I don't want to. 

The guy got two points. He eyed me up for ages in the club before asking me to dance. Guys in clubs don't tend to do that, they just come up behind you and expect you to grind on them. He also said that I was "really pretty." Two points. Then we made out. It was revolting. He was the worst kiss I've ever had. I felt as though I was drowning, whilst also feeling as though when we broke apart, my lips would be gone. It didn't help that I was thinking of my crush (who from now I shall call Isaiah). Saturday night in town sucked hard, and I am unwilling to spend so much money on it again anytime soon.

I've also realised that I don't want random hook ups all the time. I like the thought of a regular, a sort of 'friends with benefits,' but I'm sick of hooking up with randoms who 90% of the time suck at kissing. Ashlee and I were talking about needing to find me a regular. She's found one for regular hook ups in town (but she's still into the random hook ups as well), and now it's time to find me one. It doesn't even have to be for in town. They can come over when everyone is out and we can fool around. That's be preferred, in fact.

Head Over Heels?

I've fallen for him. Hard. I thought it was fine, I really did.  We're just close, but I'm not actually attracted to him, I thought.

But last night when he walked into the room... His hair was freshly cut, shaved almost. He'd shaved, and was dressed in a fantastic pair of jeans and a big t-shirt. He looked fantastic. The glittering watch on his wrist complemented his look. When I saw him, my heart actually skipped a beat, and I just thought, "fuck."

He really is one of my closet friends. I called him the other night and we talked for about forty minutes. We played the secrets game, and we shared everything we could think of. I'd ask a question, and then he'd ask one. I even told him about that night with the girls. He's the only one I've ever told.

It's complicated. So, so complicated. He did consider taking my virginity, he told me so. We're both attracted to each other, we've told each other that. But we're just friends. He has a pregnant girlfriend. I know, I shouldn't even be thinking about him. But what they have is also complicated, obviously. He doesn't have the same feelings for her that he once did, but he wants to be there for the baby. He loves that baby more than anything and she hasn't even entered the world yet. And that makes me love him even more because of it.

I went to town last night and when I got home at about 4 in the morning, I got a text from him. I asked him what he was doing up, and he said, "I may have stayed up, just in case you got attacked by a serial killer or something." He actually waited up to check I was safe. And as I was leaving the party we'd both been at, I hugged him, and I hugged him close. It felt good. He felt good.

He's coming to stay the night when my parents are away and little sister is at school camp. We're going to watch movies and I'll give him the present I got him for his baby (and read him his bedtime story), I'm worried that after the drinks we plan on sharing, we'll end up messing around. A part of me really, really wants that to happen. But I'm worried about what will become of our friendship afterwards. Do I want to lose what we have to become friends with benefits? Do I want to miss out on the chance to see what those lips taste like?

I can't believe I've fallen for one of my best friends. 

Bedtime Story

When I went in to school the other day for a tutorial, I bumped into a friend of mine. Both of us ditched the tutorial and instead went and sat in an empty classroom where we had a good old catch up. Somehow, the topic began to change and I mentioned how I used to love being tucked in and getting my nightly bedtime story.

"I never had a bedtime story," he said to me. I was shocked.

"Not even when you were a toddler?"

"Nope."

This surprised me. I thought that all children had gotten a bedtime story when they were little. The discovery actually made me a little sad. I loved getting stories read to me (my dad would read classics like Dr Seuss, and Hairy Maclary), and the thought that my friend didn't ever get that chance makes me feel as though he missed out something. So I've decided to read him one.

Down There

After discovering that I was mentioned on ParadoxLost's blog (which I am honoured), I read through some of my old blogs. This one isn't particularly old, but I wanted to blog about it again, because I realise that is such a short space of time.

Yes, he touched me 'down there,' and no, at the time I didn't enjoy. However, it happened to me again recently when I went clubbing. It was a stranger this time, I'd been dancing with him for awhile, and although I probably shouldn't have let him do it, I bloody well enjoyed the way he worked his fingers.

Why did I enjoy that, but not my own boyfriend? I sat down recently to think about it. I discounted the effects of alcohol, because I'd had a lot in both episodes. I guess it might be because it had never happened to me before, and also because he seemed like such a gentleman, and I didn't really expect him to do something like that He also frequently said things like, "do you like that," or when I pulled him away, "did I get there?" like a revolting little teenager. I never knew the guy in the club before hand, and know I'll never see him again. I guess that helped a little bit. And also because I hadn't painted him into being some sort of gentleman. Guys in clubs are not gentlemen, I realised that before I put my makeup on for the night.

I'm ready for more of that sort of stuff now. All I need is to find a guy.

Readers

I'm supposed to be studying for an exam that I've got tomorrow, but I really can't be bothered.

Instead, I've come on here to write about how much I appreciate your comments. Sometimes it makes me sad that no one knows about my blog, because I often have the urge to say to someone, "on my blog the other day, this guy said..." but I can't. So just know, that I do read your comments, and I appreciate every single one of them :)

The Virgin Talk

So I had a talk with him about him taking my virginity. We had a big talk, about whether he wanted to take it, and whether I wanted to give it to him. I did offer it to him, and he was unsure.

"I mean, you're a hot mack, but I'm still on that borderline... I don't know."

In the end we decided that he wouldn't take it because he couldn't "handle it if everyone was to find out," and also because we didn't want anything to come between our blossoming friendship.

To be honest, I'm a little bit disappointed. He would have been a good guy to lose it to, because he's sweet and caring and would have been a gentleman. I also don't really want to go to university a virgin... I move out in three months time, so I guess my chances of that happening are pretty slim. Would've been nice, though.

Beware a Lover Scorned - Pausanias of Orestes

In 337BC, King Philip of Macedonia had taken a young lover, Pausanias of Orestes. Turns out the King had a thing for guys called Pausanias, because soon after this, another Pausanias attracted his eye. The original Pausanias becasme angry, and started to harass Philip's new lover.

The second Pausanias was so upset by this that he went to Philip's friend, Attalus and told him what was going on, and soon after committed suicide. Attalus invited Pausanias of Orestes round for dinner, got him drunk and then had him beaten and raped as punishment for what he had done to the second Pausanias.

When he had recovered, he went to King Philip and complained. Becuase Attalus was a good friend of the king, Philip did not punish him.

When Attalus married Philip's daughter Cleopatra in 336BC, Pausanias of Orestes rushed forward as the king entered the theatre and stabbed him in the chest.

Beware a lover scorned.

Plucking my Flower

My friend just offered to take my virginity. Not in a dodgy way, either. I'd texted him and said, "you know you're the only one for me," and he'd replied with,

"I know you're mine. I'll utilise that privilege one day soon,"

"A girl can only wait for so long."

"Maybe when you're ready. I mean, a girl's first time is pretty special."

OH MY GOD.

I'm trying to decipher whether he was serious. Then I have some thinking to do. This guy is fabulous. I love him, as both a friend and as something else. It's not exactly complicated, but it is. I can't explain what I feel for him. He also has a pregnant ex-girlfriend. They broke up mutually, and he's still going to be there for the baby.

But fuck. Quite literally. I've always thought that losing it to a friend might be nice, rather than an actual relationship. And I know he's treat me right, and take care of me. He even warned me awhile ago during one of our regular d&ms that a girl's first time "hurts like a bitch."

Hmmm.

Countdown

It's just six days until my sister leaves for Europe. For three months. I'm so excited. When she gets back, I'll be moving out just two days later.

So.

Excited.

Three Days

I have just three days left of high school. Scared, sad and excited are all adjectives that enter my mind when I think of what this means.

It means saying goodbye to the peers that I have grown up with, the teachers that have mentored me and the system that I'm used to.

I'm scared, because as I said, I'm used to the school system, and next years is going to be completely different. I'm moving out, an hour away from home, and miles away from my friends. I will know no one where I'm going.

I'm sad, because I know I won't see half these people ever again.

I'm excited, because I know the future will bring me new opportunities, new friendships and maybe a new lease on life.

PS. Although this blog is all about me, I really love to hear the accounts of what happened to you when you were my age, especially if it relates to a blog. Let's swap stories!

Shots in the Bathroom

Number 11 on our list of Eighteen Things to do while we're Eighteen is drink before school. That was something pretty rebellious that we didn't really think we'd achieve.

We were wrong.

Today, as we were heading to the study hall, Ashley said to me, "you know that thing on our list?"

"What thing?"

"About drinking before school?"

"Mmmm?"

"I've got two shots in my bag."

Instead of going directly to study hall, we headed down to the bathrooms where she pulled out the two shots. We pulled off the foil, looked at each other and knocked them back quickly. Neither of us had eaten breakfast, and they did hit us. We got rid of the evidence by shoving the plastic glasses in the sanitary bin, and then giggled our way to study hall, high off the fact that we'd just done the naughtiest thing we'd ever done in our five years of high school.

Nothing like a bit of teenage rebellion with only SIX days of high school left.

Let's Dance

I went to town last night after dragging myself away from the best house party of the year. I went with my good friend Ashley, and a few guys who thought they had to babysit us. It was very kind of them, but I was glad when Ashley suggested they go sit down while we danced.

And danced.

And danced.

And then made out with hot boys.

Overall, it was a very good night. I was a bit disappointed that my friend Lee didn't join us. I've been semi crushing on him for awhile and know that when he gets crunk, he likes his friends a whole lot more, if you know what I mean. But that's another blog, because boy will that take some sorting through, with him a having a pregnant on/off girlfriend and all.

Until I feel like climbing that mountain, adieu.

Letters

I usually love getting letters, even if it's only a bank statement. Today's letter was one I had been dreading. I recently tried out for a fancy-pants tertiary institute, and was lucky enough to be called back out of hundreds for further interviews. Then it was just a matter of waiting for the result.

The letter arrived today while I was at school. Dad texted me and offered to open it for me, but I wanted to do it myself.

I didn't get in. I was disappointed, but not surprised. I'm too young I guess. I need more life experience.

So that's what I'm going to do. Fuck them, I'm not going to mourn over this rejection letter. I'm going to get out there and live.

ps. Happy Halloween!

Eighteen Candles (All Burning Brightly)

Eighteen. This is a big age in my country. I can now legally rent porn, buy alcohol and cigarettes and vote in elections.

To me, eighteen seems insignificant. I had been really looking forward to it at one stage. I'd planned a big party for all my friends, and was going to get absolutely trashed in town. So much has happened to me this year, however, that turning just another year older seems like a tiny detail.

This year started well. I was elected prefect at my school and really got involved. I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but at the moment, I didn't mind. My world came crashing down when Mum found out that she had a lump in her breast. The thought that my mum could have something as devastating as breast cancer tore me up. I was strong for Mum, but inside I was heartbroken. I immediately started thinking about what I would do without her. Or rather, what I couldn't do without her. I never realised how much I love her until the magic 'C' word entered my vocabulary.

Mum didn't have cancer, but we never really got the chance to celebrate her good results because just two days after the news, we spent eight hours in hospital waiting for her mother to pass on. She's suffered from a massive stroke when she was out in her garden. I said goodbye to my Nana as she lay on her side in the hospital. I'd like to think that she heard me.

What broke me up the most, I think, was seeing my grandfather and mum so devastated. My Granddad was a farming man, he's tough and although affectionate, I'd never seen him cry before. He held Nana's hand until her heart stopped beating, and then kissed her goodbye. They'd been married for nearly fifty years, and he still loved her as much as he did on their wedding day.

My Uncle then had a heart attack, and my aunt is currently battling bowel cancer. These events don't upset me nearly as much, but stacking them up against all else I've been through this year makes for something almost unbelievable.

Other things have happened to me this year that aren't nearly as dramatic. I made some mistakes - hooking up with that guy from the army was probably my biggest. I wasn't even attracted to him, and when he left I couldn't believe what I had done. He then tried to act as though we were together. He called me his bitch when I occasionally spoke to him on the phone, and after awhile I got sick of him. When he tried to make me feel guilty about not taking him as my partner to the school ball I snapped and told him to fuck off. Although maybe I was harsh, I don't regret my decision to break off that friendship. He clearly wanted a LOT more out of it than I did.

I also had a boyfriend for about... three weeks. It wasn't an impressive amount of time, but at least I wasn't single all year. I've had some other good times, hooking up with another guy who went away the day after. I can't say my year has been devoid of male contact. Although I am craving some male attention at the moment.

I've also found a direction in life. For the meantime, at least. My parents helped me, and now that I know what I'm doing next year, I'm less stressed about my exams and life in general. This year's been a year of changes and growing up. I'm ready to grab eighteen by the horns and throttle it a bit.

I'm not celebrating much today. My mum's gone down to my aunt's to help her recover, but this weekend I'm hitting the town. 

So that's my birthday blog. Let's raise our glasses to ME.

Not Much of a Blog.

Sigh. I'm not really going to be able to post properly until my birthday in just over a week.

I've got a callback for a prestigious tertiary institute on Friday, so at the moment my time's taken up with that, plus I've got in exams in about 30 days, and I really should be focusing on that.

I was out today and bumped into a girl that I haven't seen in awhile. She dropped out awhile ago. She informed me that she was having a baby (I wasn't much surprised). That makes about 55 children to girls who started school with me. That's a helluva lot.

But let me assure you, my birthday blog will be big and fantastic. So much stuff has happened to me this year and I promise to try and recount as much of it as I can in a single celebratory blog.

Apologies

I have to apologize for my lack of posts. I've been very busy with school stuff. Hopefully I'll soon be able to find the time to sit down and write something for you all.

Fuck Feminism

I'm currently in a play that pokes fun at feminism. It's written by a feminist so it's all ok. One of the lines in the play goes something like,

"If we're not allowed to work and we're not allowed to get married and have kids, what ARE we allowed to do?"

It got me thinking. I'm all for women's rights. I'm all for being paid the same amount as men, being allowed to vote and all that, but I also want to get married and have kids. My mum is a housewife, and I am grateful for it. I hope that my partner/husband can earn enough for me to be able to stay home and look after the kids. I want to be able to dress like a woman - I love dresses and skirts and makeup. I'm not doing it for men, I'm doing it for me.

Maybe I don't know the true meaning of feminism. Maybe I've got this all wrong. 

But fuck feminism if it means I can't wear high heels.

Joining the Virgin Debate

I've read a fair few blogs on the virgin debate, and I thought that it was my duty as a virgin blogger to join in.

I am a virgin. At times, I'm ashamed to admit it, but mostly I don't really mind. Most people I'm friends with still have their V stamp, and I'm pretty sure my last boyfriend was also one.

However, I would like to lose it. I'm not waiting around for marriage. I'm not even waiting for love. What I'm looking for is (in my dreams, Jonothan Rhys Meyers) trust. I'd like to lose it to a guy who isn't going to go and tell all his mates straight away, and who won't laugh at me when I don't know what to do.

I'm not a virgin virgin. I've kissed guys (and girls), and had people feel me up. I haven't done oral or anything like that, but when I find the right guy, I know I'll be ready.

Dear Old Dad

I love my Dad. I have so many hilarious memories of him when I was little. One includes him putting bubble mixture up his nose so that he could attempt to blow bubbles out his nose. It only succeeded in him burning his sinuses out.

As I grew up, Dad was always there for me with jokes and silly ideas to make life a little more enjoyable. But now, as I'm older, Dad has less time for all of us. He recently acquired a position at his work place that takes up even more of his already busy schedule. He's always on the phone now, even on his days off - which are few and fair between. When he does have spare time, he's often grumpy from the stress and isn't as willing to share a joke.

I'm glad my dad has worked hard to provide my family with a more than comfortable lifestyle, but sometimes I just wish he had a regular job so I could spend more time with him.

Admiring Men

I recently commented on Beauty of the Year's post about virginity, where I said that I didn't want to be a teenage virgin. She assured me that I'd be a "healthy sex lover in no time," - much to my relief. She also said that she's seen the way I "admire men," and she's right.

I love them. I love the way men smell, I love boys who don't wear shirts, I like the way their jokes are always so much funnier than girls' jokes. I love sporty boys' legs. I love boys who sing. I love boys who play instruments. I love their backs. I love sweaty boys. I even love cocky boys.

I do admire them. And sure, this might be distinctly anti-feminist, but I couldn't give a shit. Sure, I'm pro women's rights and all that, but I love being in the secure grip of a male. It gives me comfort to know that their hands are bigger than mine and that they can lift me up for a Hollywood kiss. I can't wait to find a man (and not a boy. A man) who can take my tiny hand in his, and wrap me in a bear hug.

General Musings

I opened up a new window so that I could make a post, and then I blanked out. No idea what to write. None whatsoever. Well, that's a lie to be honest. I do have a few thoughts floating around in my head, but none of them are really worth blogging about.

I'm on holidays at the moment, which equals a lot of boredom, although not so much this time because I have to spend a lot of the time rehearsing lines for my production. Exciting. I'd invite you all to see it, but obviously that's give away the mystery of the blog, wouldn't it? And also, I doubt that many of you are in New Zealand, so you know. Sorry. It'll be good though. I wear a totally outrageous costume that should get a few laughs (fingers crossed).

I went to a party last night. Called for a taxi at about 12.15. By 1am in still hadn't arrived and nearly everyone else had left. So I had to call my mother. Cool. My friend's still trying to organise a venue for her party, and I know if she can do it, it'll go off. She's promised sexy boys as well:P

Bitch and Moan

It's another bitching blog. How I love to moan about people I dislike!

Samantha is a girl at my school who my friend Ashley (the girl I created the list with) very much dislike. The other night I made a joke about Ashley hitting on older men, and Samantha came up and said - in that, I'm saying it like it's a joke, but you know I'm not - "That's what Ashley does, and that's why no one wanted to take her to town on Saturday." This is most definitely NOT true, as I was going to take her into town until she realised she didn't have any id.

I find Samantha rude and irritating. She's always acted as though I'm stupid, and often makes rude jibes. After awhile, it gets to you and I think Ashley is about a second away from punching her lights out.

The next bitch and moan is my older sister, again. I came home this afternoon - we're heading into Spring and it was delightfully warm today- and she had the fire on. Ugh. So unnecessary. And yet I have to be nice to her because I want to use her id card on Saturday. Sigh.

Clinging.

My older sister came into my room the other day, wearing a red dress of a very clingy fabric. It used to look good on her, until she came home every day and ate cheese. And then a sandwich. And then toast. And so on and so forth. Now the dress clung in a most unflattering way.

"Do I look fat in this?"

What am I supposed to say? I could be honest,

"Yes. You wear all your clothes in the most unflattering way and it only emphasizes your terrible posture and recent weight gain.

Or I could lie,

"No, it looks fantastic!"

Instead, I just shrug,

"Yeah it's fine."

Birthday?

It's just over a month until I'm eighteen. I'm not that excited, as I'll still have to go to school, do exams and work. I'd like to think that it'll bring me something new, but the reality is it probably won't.

We've booked a restaurant in the city for my party, but I'm not sure if I want a big party anymore. I'm going to go out clubbing no matter what, so maybe I should be doing something more symbolic, different and exciting to mark the big one eight?

My thoughts as to what I could do are as follows:

• Bungee jump or do something equally exciting
• Mum said they might be able to give me the money that it would cost for the party and I could put it towards a trip
• Go on a day trip
• Go on a shopping trip

So far I like the thought of a trip or jumping off a building the most.

Around the World

Whenever people ask me, "if you could only go to one place in the world before you died, where it would be?" I was always stuck for an answer. There are so many places on Earth, how could I possibly pick just one? Europe, Asia, America. Too many places!

Tonight I was watching a travel show on TV, and I finally realised where my one place would be.

Africa.

Helping AIDs orphans, seeing wild lions and giraffes on the Serengeti, and meeting a Masai warrior. If I don't make it to Africa before I die, I could possibly regret for all of the after life.

It was tonight that I decided I will slowly save for a trip to Africa, aiming to go when I finish university in about three years time. I'll need a lot of money, but I know that three months of living will be worth it.

Wake Up Call

My final year at high school is starting to get stressful. I've only got about eight weeks left, and that's pretty frightening.

I have to look at what universities I want to go to, and then where I'm going to live - because there's no way I'm staying at home. 

I've also got exams next week, which I should be studying for as I type out this, but I can't be bothered. Despite the stress, I'm severely lacking in motivation.

I'm sure it will all hit me when I fail these exams. What I need is a big wake up call.

Serious Snogging.

I love making out with guys. I also love it when they lift me up. I've been spoiled with my kissing. Next time I make out with someone and they don't lift me up, or can't hold my 60kgs, I'm going to be horribly disappointed.

In a couple of weeks I'm going clubbing with my friend and my sister's id. I hope there are a few hotties with which I can do some serious snogging.

Mantra: Live With No Regrets.

Well, I did it. I went to the party last night and just before I left, we hooked up. Hell yes we did, thank you very much.

I didn't think it was going to happen, because he didn't seem that attentive to me. Probably because he's leaving on Monday and won't see everyone for about three months. But still. I was losing my confidence, and then after the last drink I had (vodka and orange juice. I HATE orange juice), I told someone who was closer to him than me that I wanted to hook up with him. I later found a group of them talking. I joined in, and subtly everyone except him disappeared. He turned to me and said,

"I guess you've got what you wanted?" And I just played dumb. Cool, huh? "She's told me that you want to hook up with me. Is it true?"

"She wouldn't be lying."

"Why? Is it because I'm leaving?"

"It could be." Read between the lines: No it's not because you're leaving, but because you are it makes it a whole lot easier and less complicated.

"Shall we just do it and leave it at that?"

"YUP."

He led me over to a corner of the garden and there we started making out for awhile until my friend interrupted us.

"Uhhh, Six... your mum's here."

"Damn. I'll be out soon..." She left us to get back to what we were doing for a little while longer. He ran his hand down my leg and hitched it around his hip. I took that as an invitation to lift the other one, and then he was just holding me (Body. Of. A. God). We were both a little drunk, so the kissing wasn't fantastic, but I hope it's a good memory for his lonely nights.

He made a delicious "mmmm" noise, and I knew it was time for me to leave. Not that I wanted to. Curse my mother and her terrific timing.

I pulled away with a reluctant smile, and he said, "far out. So could've gone there." I took this to mean sex. I just smiled, knowing that I never would have gone there and said goodbye.

Maybe he'll pay me a booty call in three month time.

Eighteen Things, the List

A friend (who is quickly becoming one of my closest friends) and I sat down and made the list. We turn 18 within a month of each other, but figured that if we got a headstart it didn't matter too much. We also want to try and do as many of these things as we can together. They are numbered, but aren't really in any particular order.

1. Hookup with someone hot
2. Plan a trip overseas
3. Get picked up at a club
4. Pick someone up at a club
5. Host an awesome party
6. Do something crazy (eg bungee jumping)
7. Go on a road trip
8. Go to a strip club
9. Go to a day spa
10. Smoke pot
11. Drink before we go to school/uni
12. Take part/go watch Boobs on Bikes
13. Take a leap of faith
14. Skinny dip
15. Buy sexy underwear
16. Go into a sex shop and actually look around
17. As for a that we like's number (or to go to coffee etc if we already have his number)
18. Same someone's life

We completed number 18 today. We both gave blood, which saves three people's lives every time you do it. It was totally worth fainting afterwards.

Eighteen for Eighteen

I want to compile a list of Eighteen things to do in my Eighteenth year. I turn eighteen in October, so I've started it just a little bit late, but I suppose I have until I turn nineteen to try and complete them. The only problem is that I'm not really sure where to start. I've got a few things down (see below), but I'm not really happy with them. I guess this will have to be an ongoing thing. If you've got any ideas, I'm keen to hear them.

1. Hook up with a really hot guy. Or at least a guy with an incredible body.
2. Buy alcohol legally.
3. Vote.
4. Feel satisfied - truly satisfied - with something I have achieved.
5. Do something crazy, whether it be something I'm scared of or something that will shock everyone else.

Making Moves

I'm afraid that I may have turned into a bit of a skank. I have a friend (who has the body of Achilles) who is moving away soon, and I plan on making a move on him. Not a big move, but something in the form of a farewell so that he won't forget who I am. A movie style kiss, perhaps.

But this is a week after I broke up with my boyfriend. Granted, we were only going out for three weeks, but is that not a little inappropriate? I'm still going to do it if he has a party, because I've always found him hot and I figure that he's leaving so I won't see him again. It just concerns me slightly that I'm doing it.

I think it might be in part that my friends are all old enough to go clubbing and when they go out they hook up with different guys each time, and sometimes more than one in a night. I think I want to be in on it, although maybe not to that extent.

Hey, I'm young. Shouldn't I be making the most of my youth while I can still get away with it?

Single Again (after just three weeks).

I broke up with him. I woke up this morning and realised that I didn't find the unwanted touching a huge deal, but was using it as an excuse because I'm not ready for a relationship- and perhaps what he was expecting from it.

He apologised to me, face to face. I accepted it, because I knew he was sorrow. I then told him that perhaps we'd be better as friends, because we were just too different. He's so shy and I'm so out there. I said that he deserved someone who was more reserved and lady like.

I felt better for doing it. So what if I haven't got a boyfriend? My friends are all single at the moment and are having an awesome time. I've realised that I'm happy having fun mucking round in my last year of high school and I don't need a guy to assist me in that - unless it's a one off make out session, of course.

Was Last Night Really Worth It?

Johnny and I went to a party last night. We were having a great time. We'd both had a little too much to drink, but I still knew what was going on.

We made out in the corner, and that I didn't mind. His hand was on my arse, but that I didn't mind either. It was when he attempted to finger fuck me that a seed of doubt about his integrity was planted in my mind. He'd stop when I told him to, but then a few minutes later he'd try again. 

When we made out by a tree, he lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around him. But then he tried to do it again. When I told him to stop he said "sorry," and I know he was.

But now I can't stop thinking about whether this is what I want. Do I want a guy that when we're drunk tries to finger fuck me? I thought I'd be ready to go all the way, but that's put me off.

He says he's sorry now that he's sober, and I do know that he means it. Is this something I'm fretting over for no reason? Is this gut feeling really just my hangover? Or, should I end it soon? Although, if I was to end it after only three weeks, the whole school would be on my back about why.

I'm really keen for advice, if I have any readers left.

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

We hooked up at school the other day. Not in view of anyone, but still. I never thought I'd be the sort of person who would do that.

We have a 'secret spot,' where we go and spend our morning tea together. How cute are we? 

We're going to a party on Saturday, which supposedly is supposed to constitute as our first date. It isn't really, but I don't mind. I'm happy that I get to spend time with him.

Before we hooked up, I was scared that I wasn't attracted to him any more. I don't know why, but for some reason I just thought the buzz was gone. It relieved me that it wasn't, in part because the whole school and staff seem to know about us.

Even my dean said to me today, "Six and Johnny, up a tree."

My Man

I've been a bit slow with posting because I'm addicted to the Olympics. I get home from school and watch it until I go to bed. It's terrible, but fantastic at the same time.

He's lovely, my man. We havent been on a date yet because we haven't had time and we live so far apart, but we sit together in class (kicking each other subtly under the table) and have started to spend our morning tea together.

He's Samoan, and is in the forward pack on our school rugby team. He's intelligent, taking all the sciences on offer as well as geography. He's also shy, and that's the reason we decided to keep our relationship on the down low for awhile. So much for that. The only person he told managed to spread it round the seventh form in twenty minutes, but we never confirmed or denied anything.

I think our first public outing will be the party next week. I'm excited. He's so great :)

Single No More

I'm lazy, I know. At least I haven't sold out to paid work thank you very much CCG. Although if someone offered me cash to write stuff, I wouldn't turn it down, either.

Anyway, what I'm really on here to blog about is this:

He finally asked me out!

I'm no longer single!

He's so adorable, too. We'd admitted that we liked each other awhile ago, and I kind of thought that he would immediately ask me out. But he didn't, and eventually I said, "if you ever get around to asking me out, we can do that stuff" after receiving a particularly flirty text. After some more banter, he asked me out and although I knew it was coming I was so excited!

We're keeping it on the down low for the moment, because if his team mates find out any time soon, we'll never hear the end of it. I also want to wait until we actually go on a date in case it comes back to bite me in the bum.

Wishing

I've been sick for five days. No school, no work... and yet.... I wish I was there. I've been stuck on the couch watching movies, while coughing my lungs up. I'm not allowed to go to the movies, not allowed to go and watch my  friends play rugby. I'm over it.

Just the other day I'd been wishing I could get sick, because a day off would be really nice. Now I have three days of work to catch up on! As they say, you should be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it.

Chris Brown

It's like I've waited my whole life, for this one night. It's goin' be me you and the dance floor.

Ok. I admit it. I'm a Chris Brown fan. How can you not be with his infectious beats, darling voice and good boy looks?

I'm also severely lacking in blog ideas.

Rumors

The rumors about what I got up to at the afterball are:

• We hooked up
• We got freaky in the toilets
• We went home together.

I can assure you that none of them are true.

The Afterball

After the free shot, I felt my confidence rise. As I walked past HIM, I grabbed him and whispered in his ear,

"are you going to ask me to dance tonight?" He looked at me - he'd already had four shots - and smiled. Then, grabbing my hand he took me to the dance floor.

And then didn't leave my side for the whole night.

I was sober enough to realise that he would either forget the night completely (which he did) or regret the numerous moves he made, so I restrained myself from accepting his advances. Not that I wanted to. Although everyone was concerned for me, I loved being in his arms. I loved being picked up and carried to the dance floor by him.

And sure, he may have been totally off his face, but the fact that he spent the whole night with me even though there were countless other girls who would have done whatever he wanted had got to count for something, doesn't it?

Missing the Mark

When preparing for my school ball, it's not so much about how I look (although in my purple fishtail dress and dark makeup, I look HOT), but how my friends will look.

As selfish as it is, I never want them to look as good as I do. Of course, I don't hope that they'll be total disasters - most of the time, but I do hope that in some way, they'll miss the mark ever so slightly by wearing the wrong jewelry or makeup.

I don't know why I wish this. Of course everyone wants to look the best, but does everyone silently pray that their friends will fail to impress as much as I do?

Bags

Five days until the school ball and I'm lucky enough to have a cold that's clogged up my sinuses so I'm constantly sniffing. It's also stopped me from sleeping well at night, which means the bags under my eyes are bigger than the Texas state.

Great.

Explanation, Please

We've been friends for awhile. We're both prefects, and in the same Geography class. I recently moved to sit with him and two other guys who's conversation is a lot more interesting than the two girls I previously sat with.

This whole, "do I like him, do I not?" thing started at rehearsals for a show I was introducing and that he was doing sound for. I sat with him in the sound box - not being needed for most of the rehearsals. We were friendly at the event, me playfully hitting him and setting up competitions where he and a friend had to see how many numbers they could get (which, much to my secret relief, he refused to partake in). 

He's sweet, and I'm constantly teasing him about girls he might like - his reactions are so priceless that I can't help it. "Oh, Samantha, eh? kissy kissy," and his face breaks into a shocked smile,

"What?! No! I don't like her!" Priceless.

Maybe he'll ask me to dance at the ball.

Off Limits.

Everyone says I like him - and I don't. Didn't.

Didn't until I found out he might have a girlfriend. Now that he's possibly off limits, I've realized that 'hey, maybe I AM interested,' but it's too late to make a move.

Not that I would've made one anyway. Too awkward. We sit next to each other in class, and I enjoy teasing him, but I think it might be weird if we were to become an item.

Which we won't, because I won't make a move and he's possibly off the market. Which is fine by me.

He's so cute, though.

Oops

Oh dear, how terribly lazy of me. No posts in awhile. I guess I've had a lot of stuff on my mind.

I'm into the holidays now (yay), but it's two weeks of preparing for the school ball (my dress is purple), and doing two assignments. It's not going to be the most fun in the world.

xxx

I promise to post something substantial soon.

A Sister's Grief

We're all moving on - sad, yes, but moving on. Getting back into reality. Everyone except my older sister - of course. After Nana died two weeks ago, she moved in with my Granddad. She doesn't want him to be alone, but she wants to be near the memory of Nana as well. She hasn't been sleeping well, she reads in a book that someone has a stroke and she bursts into tears. It's so hard for her to go on. 

She moved back tonight, and keeps talking about all these sad things, "I've got a picture of Nana all for myself," "oh Aunt Betty is devastated because she's the only one left now." We stopped speaking about how sad we were after the funeral. It was time to get back into life, and yes, we talk about it, but we don't go on and on. That's not how my family works. Because she was so busy grieving, my sister confused her exam timetable. She thought an exam that was actually yesterday, was tomorrow. Even in a state of grief I don't know how she managed to confuse Thursday with Saturday.

I know we all grieve in our own way, but I really wish she'd just get on with it like the rest of us.

Sex and the City

Sex and the City  is a fantastic movie. I've seen it twice now. The clothes, the shoes (!) and the characters are just as good as the TV series - of which I've seen the last season and parts of seasons 4 & 5. 

However, while I was watching the movie, my nana was in hospital fighting for her life. I don't know if I can see it again anytime soon, because now Sex and the City will be known (to me) as The Movie I watched Before My Nana Died.

Good News and Bad

It's been an incredible weekend, let me tell you. 

It was Friday 13th, and that was when Mum got her results back. Unlucky 13 no more! Her results were clear. Turns out the change in her mammogram was just that - a change. Mum said it was because she was getting old, and I replied, "thank God!"

Then Saturday night was the worst day of my life. At about 4.30, her mum (Nana to me) was out in her garden when she suffered from a progressive stroke. She managed to tell Granddad off for getting her a pillow from inside, and got him to take her gardening gloves off before they put in her in the ambulance. However, things got worse and when I got to the hospital with my older sister (we'd been watching Sex and the City at the movies), she was unconscious.

At about 2.10am, my parents, my sister, my cousin, my grandfather and I had to say goodbye to Nana. Her breathing throughout the night had become more slow, and eventually she didn't breathe again. Seeing my grandfather kiss her goodbye was the most harrowing experience of my life. None of us had expected this; Nana was as healthy as a horse and her mother had lived to 94. It seems as though he life was cut short at just 76.

Seeing my granddad and mum so distraught is what is destroying me. My grandparents were married for 54 years, and now his other half is gone. Not only that, but the light from his eyes is gone. I hope it can return.

It's been an intense week for me. Nothing bad has ever really happened to me, but when the shit hits the fan, it isn't distributed evenly. 

The C Word

My mum's having a radioscopy on Thursday. I guess after that we'll know if it's the C word or not. I know it's stupid, but I don't want to say the word. 

I've been doing things at home, thinking to myself, "if I do this for five more minutes, she won't have cancer." I know things like that don't make a difference, but at the moment I feel it's the only way I can help.

I'm so scared. I'd give anything for this just to be a scare.

Mum

Mum said there'd been a change in her mammogram. 

Please don't let it be serious.

I can't live without my mum.

Surprises

I was at work when he turned up. I wasn't suspecting it. I wasn't ready, wasn't prepared. I was excited, sure, but when he asked me if I was busy I suddenly began brainstorming excuses.

"I think I'm going out to dinner with my family sometime this weekend," I said (for the record, that was not a lie). He said to find out what else I was up to and we could hang round on the day I was free.

But I didn't want to.

When he left, I wracked my brain for excuses. I went out back and asked my co-worker for advice. "Pretend you've got food poisoning from what you had at lunch," "pretend I had a drug overdose and you want to stay with me at hospital."

I eventually came up with, "I'm going to dinner at my grandparents house and my parents won't let me get out of it." He accepted that, but then asked what I was doing during the day. Shit. I needed another excuse.

"I'm working on my English assignment," I quickly texted back (once again, not a lie). He asked if I could take the morning off. I said,

"If I do that, I'll never get started. I'm sorry. I'll have to see you next time you come up."

"Why can't you just take the morning off? School isn't everything."

The more someone tries to make me do something, the less I want to do it.

"I can't. The courses I want to get into next year have limited places. I have to do well this year. I didn't know you were coming up. If I had known, I would've rearranged my weekend and taken some time off. It's not my fault. School's my top priority."

Why did I not want to see him? I was scared he'd expect a repeat of last time. One which I wasn't willing to give, because I had long since realised that I don't like him in that way. I don't get why he wanted to hang out with me so badly. Before we left for the army, we were hardly friends.

I don't like surprises. 

Study Time Table

I've just about finished my mid-term exams. They're not worth anything other than a blemish on my report. I thought I'd share with you my study time table...

10am: Roll out of bed. On Monday I made crepes for breakfast.

10.45am: Hope into the shower.

11.15am: Look over some notes I wrote last week.

11.30am: Turn the fire on.

11.31am: Stare at the fire for awhile.

12.00: Do a little bit of study.

1pm: Make sister go out for lunch to avoid more study.

2pm: Return from lunch. Realise that it's sunny outside so bring study onto the porch.

2.15pm: Ge halfway through an essay plan until I fall asleep in the weak sun's rays.

3.30pm: Wake up, finish essay plan.

4pm: Give up, go on computer.

8pm: Go to bed. It's been a long day.

Light Weight Booze Hound

I got drunk for the first time last Saturday night. It only took me three Vodka Cruisers to push me to the edge, which was fine by me. I had such a hilarious time, my friends and I rearranged the furniture to create a dance floor, and then boogied down to a techno version of the Jewish Bah Mitzvah song.

The decision to drink did not come lightly, as earlier I had chosen to remain the sober one at parties. Yes, part of it can be put down to peer pressure - all my friends are drinking, why shouldn't I? I think the main reason I began to drink was the realization that I was mature enough to handle its consequences. I have been to many parties where I've seen people go over their limits, and so I knew not to push mine. Three drinks may have been 'light-weight,' but I knew that I didn't want to be the loser who threw up in someone else's house.

Pick Me.

In one of my classes, which is made up of about seven girls and three boys, there is a guy who hits on anything that moves. I'm not even kidding. He once humped a male mannequin. He's always hitting on the girls, one girl in particular, because he gets a reaction out of her and knows she likes it. However, it always gets me down that he doesn't hit on me (even though he once told me that I had 'a sweet ass'). Which is stupid really. I'm not attracted to him, and I'd probably hate it if he did, yet I still get a bit disappointed when he chooses to hit on someone else. 

Friday Night

Friday is such a fantastic day for me. It means the weekend is about to begin, school is nearly over, but work hasn't yet begun.

Every period of class seems to have an air of excitement, because the teachers are just as excited as we are to escape the dreary hell of pre-fabricated classrooms and damp, moulding ceilings that is our school.

I get home from school, throw off my school bag and sigh with relief. I don't think about the piles of homework piling up in the corner. It's Friday, God dammit. Tonight I will sit back, make something for dessert and relax in front of the couch. Once America's Next Top Model starts, the evening is set. I'll paint my nails as the wispy models bitch and moan. Next up is comedy show Rove, and then I end the night with my favourite show, Project Runway. 

Friday rules.

School Ball Syndrome

The school ball is coming up in July, which seems like a long way away, but if you're a girl it may as well be tomorrow. Because I'm a prefect, I also (with the help of others) have to organise it. What I've discovered, however, is that it's a lot more stressful organising the social aspect of the night rather than the actual event. For the actual event, you have a decorator, and it's all very simple. 

However, for the social part, you have to organise a dress, date, pre-ball, make up, shoes and everything else. If you're a girl, you can't wear the same colour as anyone else, you can't wear the same dress. It's very complicated. 

Secret Diary

Secret Diary of a Call Girl started on TV last week in New Zealand. I'd read a lot about it, so naturally I was curious about it. I decided to see what all the fuss was about and watched it.

It shocked me, to be honest. I was warned that I'd never be able to watch Billie Piper in anything else again, and boy they weren't lying. I kept waiting for a plot (other than call girl having sex) to develop, but it never did. There was just a lot of sex. Other than that, not a lot happened.

Yet, when Thursday night rolled around again, I found myself tuning into the show. It fascinated me. I wanted to know who Belle's next customer would be, if she'd get caught by someone she knew... It's exciting and sickening, and I can't stop myself from watching it.

Just Decisions

When he placed his hands on my behind to bring me in closer to his kiss, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd started when I decided to kiss him the previous night. The final kiss before we parted was more than just a "see you soon," kind of kiss. It was a real goodbye kiss. At least five weeks until he returns for under a week, and then gone again.

I'd sort of planned on making a move when I found out he was returning, but upon seeing him again, I changed my mind. I was more attracted to him than ever before, but I knew that it couldn't end well. He was only back for a little while, and through a friend we organised to meet up. We saw a movie, and then headed back to my place where we sat and watched tv for a few hours. It was then I decided to lie in his warm and secure arms. Probably a poor decision considering I'd decided not to make a move. But I couldn't resist.

As I walked him to the end of my street, I couldn't control myself. As I went to hug him, I kissed him. He welcomed me immediately, and we kissed despite the constant drone of cars passing us by on the main road. I didn't want to let him go. He said we could meet up the next day. i should have just ended it then. I should have said, "no, let's leave it at this." But I didn't. I agreed.

He came to pick me up from work and together we walked to the park. Once again I wrapped myself in his arms. He laughed as I shivered against the chill while he sat there in a t-shirt, sharing his warmth with me. We sat on a park bench for two hours. His hand was on my thigh, on my chest and my body arched up against him.

Then it was time for him to walk me home. I didn't know what to say. For once in my life, I was speechless. I couldn't say anything when he said, "I care about you a lot - probably too much considering the circumstances." I didn't know what there was to say. "Let's just take it as it comes," was all I could say when he said, "I don't want you to feel you have to wait around for me." And then he kissed me one last time and all I could think was, 'what have I started?"

But as someone once said to me, there are no wrong decisions, just decisions.

New Blog Title

You'll notice that I've changed the title of my blog, to 'Sixteen Secrets.' This is because I felt that 'Secrets of a Sixteen Year Old' is really no longer relevant, seeing as I'm actually seventeen, and just under six months out from eighteen. I hope you don't mind. I'll be adding some other things too, like a page counter, maybe. How exciting! 

I hope you are all still enjoying my blog, and if you have any suggestions or comments, they're always welcome :).

Undress Me...

I suddenly felt my self esteem deflating. Taking these pictures makes me feel sexy and beautiful. I haven't retouched them. This is me.

New Pictures!

...Coming Soon...

ANZAC Day

Today, the 25th of April marks the 93rd anniversary of the landing of New Zealand and Australian soldiers at Gallipoli in 1915. The aim was to capture the Dardanelles, but by the end of the campaign, it was still in Turkish hands and over 120,000 men had lost their lives - 8500 Australians and 2721 New Zealanders. 

ANZAC Day began a year later, and has continued ever since. It now commemorates all the men who were willing to sacrifice their lives for our freedom and country. It honours those who did not return, and thanks those who did. It is a day of reflection, and this is shown in the many dawn services that take place all over the country. The deaths at Gallipoli - although pale in comparison to those in France - symbol the beginning of a national identity and a life-long friendship with the Australians.

This Australasian holiday makes me proud to be a New Zealander. To hear 'The Last Post' played at the dawn service makes me thank those who served - my great grandfather, and my Granddad. They were willing to stand up for Queen and country, and willing to risk their lives so that we could be free. It is a debt I can never repay.

Melbourne

Well, I'm back from Melbourne and here to share with you the tales of my journey!

What a fantastic city Melbourne is! It's so different from Auckland, it's so busy and there seems to be shops on every corner and down every alleyway. There's something always happening, buskers everywhere were making noise, there was very rarely a quiet street to walk down. 

My first bit of excitement was the taxi driver who took us from the airport to our hotel near China town. He sounded as though he was from Yemen, and was an anti-Semitic Orthodox Christian. He drove on the motorway pointing out the sights, "there's the golden french fry and crab sticks," he said to a sculpture of - well, a giant french fry like piece of art. He then went on to inform us that "everything is big in Australia, except Australian minds." He complained about John Howard, and then Kevin Rudd, a "half-Jew" who can't be expected to change anything.

Most of the holiday was taken up with exploring the city on foot, money burning a hole in our pockets. There were so many shops - I don't even think we made a dent in them. Unfortunately, we didn't see much to buy as everything was either exactly what we had at home or too expensive, but it was exciting nonetheless.

On our second night in Melbourne, we walked up to Lygon Street, which is where all the Italian cafes and restaurants are. As you walk down the street, they accost you, offering you free drinks and special deals if you'll dine with them. Eventually we were convinced to go into a restaurant where the woman insisted that "my mum's the chef," (although when I walked past the kitchen on my way to the bathroom there was no old Italian woman in sight). We had the honour, if you can call it that, of being seated near a group who looked like they were the mob. Four younger men, 25 and under were seated with their father, a dark overweight Italian man. Later, they were joined by two older men. One was quite old and reserved, and the other wore and open shirt with a gold chain over his hairy chest. You didn't want to mess with him. The waitress was rather attentive to the, and at one stage she was walking towards us, but the old man made a hand gesture and she quickly diverted her path. It probably wasn't the mob, but it sure made the meal a lot more exciting.

Day three we visited the International Cake Shop, except they only sell Greek cakes. They are the most delicious cakes I've ever had. I had a walnut baklava roll, my father had a pistachio baklava roll dipped in chocolate, and my little sister had a sweet cannelloni. Yum! If you ever go to Melbourne, make sure you visit the cake shop. Or one of the many chocolate shops they have. There seemed to be a chocolate shop in every arcade. I couldn't get over it, and eventually we stopped at San Churro and had hot chocolates.

Other sites we visited was the Old Melbourne Gaol - which is definitely worth a trip, St Kilda - where it feels as though you should be in the 1920's, especially when you go to Luna Park, the markets, Shrine of Remembrance and the Melbourne Museum. 

Each night we ate to a different theme. Night one we ate at Dracula's, the theatre restaurant. Night two was Lygon Street, Night three we bought food from the markets and ate them in the hotel room. On night four we did Greek and ate at Dion, if you go there I recommend the lemon lamb. Mouth watering, and on night five we ate at Post-Deng. Or Post-Mao. I can't remember what it was called, but it was in China Town, and I would say go for the Peking Duck Banquet. Delicious!

Sorry!

Sorry! I know, I'm lazy and terrible. I should have written a really awesome post three days ago. But I didn't, and now I'm just writing this super lame one about how sorry I am for not posting. It's not even a real post.

I'm going to Melbourne tomorrow for about five days, and when I come back I promise to have a super fantastic post. Maybe I'll even include pictures from my trip. Exciting, huh?

Cinders to Cinderella

My friend was always average looking. She wasn't unattractive, but I always looked better by comparison. Although it's vain, I always felt good sitting with her at parties where there might be single boys lurking. Tall and lanky, her movements are always quite awkward. Her mousy blonde hair never did anything for her pale complexion.

Then she got a make over. She dyed her hair to a dark chocolate brown, as well as getting a side fringe and layering. Now she's gorgeous. I'm not better looking by comparison any more. Although I'm so happy that suddenly she's getting all this attention, and that she feels way more confident in herself, a part of me (a large part) is bitter because I can't do anything that dramatic to make me look good. I want someone to tell me that I look stunning like they tell her. In short, I'm jealous.

Only the Lonely.

I'm not particularly close with anyone. I used to have a best friend, but even then I didn't tell them everything. I have a large groups of friends at school, but if I had a problem, I'm not sure I'd go to them for help. I don't mind not being close to anybody, as I've always been a solitary kind of person despite the outgoing personality and confidence. Sometimes however, the loneliness gets to me. When I need reassurance or a pick me up, I don't always have someone to turn to.

It comes down to lack of trust. I always think that people are backstabbing me when I'm not around, or that they only hang round with me because I don't have anyone else to hang round with me. I know that this probably isn't the case, but the thoughts still nag at me. When someone rolls their eyes at me in a joking manner, I can't help but think, "are they joking or for real?" 

After awhile, it starts to get to you.

A Yellow Note

It was after four in the morning when she pulled herself from his arms - his warm, secure arms - and slipped silently from the bed. She was naked, her nipples erect from the sudden change in temperature. Her black evening gown lay abandoned on the floor. She picked it u and shimmied into it, silently apologising for leaving it on the floor. With her dress back on, it was almost as if the night's events hadn't occurred. Only her tousled hair and smudged makeup gave her away.

Where was her scarf? She looked around for it in the dark, not wanting to turn the light on She relied solely on the streetlight that leaked through the gap in his curtains above the bed where he slept.

Finding her scarf under her handbag, which sat on his desk, she turned to look at him. He was entangled in the creamy white sheet. She longed to wake him up and tell him about how her feelings had changed. But she couldn't. That wasn't how it worked. Taking a Post-It from the lacquer desk, she scribbled a note and stuck it to his open lap top. With a final glance, she left his apartment without a sound.

He woke a few hours later, at first not realising that she was no longer in his arms. Of course she wasn't. She wasn't expected to stay. He had no idea what time she had slipped out. He hoped she was alright. He hoped he hadn't offended her in some what. Why was he thinking like this? It didn't matter whether she was OK or not, it didn't matter if he'd offended her. It wasn't his business. But how he wish it could be! He wanted her to stay the night. He wanted her to stay forever. He groaned and pulled himself from his bed, awakening all the memories of her as he did so. As he walked towards the bathroom he saw the note. It excited him. His mind started to piece together a fantasy in which the note promised it everything. Tentatively, he went over and read it.

"If you ever need my services again," it read, "you know where to contact me."

He screwed the evil yellow note up in one hand and threw it against a wall. The fantasy was over. She would never be his.

Fork in the Road

This year is my final year of high school, and I find myself severely lacking in motivation. Last year I poured my heart into school, striving for the best marks I could gain. This year I just can't be bothered, even though it's the one year that I know I have to knuckle down if I want to get into university and get scholarships.

I think it's because I don't have any career aspirations. I know I'm going to go to university and do a Bachelor of Arts, but what do I major in, and why? Where is it going to take me? I don't want to be a teacher. I don't want to be a politician. What I really want to be is an actress - it's the only thing I know I'm good at, yet I don't want to be struggling to pay the rent, which is the reality of acting. So, do I throw away my dream and step into reality, or do I accept that the only way I might truly be happy is if I'm on stage, entertaining the crowds?

Numbers Game

I went to a party on Saturday night. A bunch of people were there who were far too young to be drinking, and then my friends who are just a few months of 18. I was having a good time, dancing with my friends when Jay arrived. He had picked us up, but had left again after dropping us off. Who knows where he had gone - probably to pick up some more booze and something. When he returned, he went over to the iPod and changed to fast paced music to something more laid back. I strolled over and grabbed it off him.

"How do you expect me to dance to that?" I said with a coy smile, changing the song to Umbrella. He smiled and we began to dance, side by side, having a laugh. We danced for the whole song, and as the next one began he slowly moved behind me, ever so subtly. I hardly noticed until I felt his presence behind me. A shiver echoed through my body as I danced with him, our bodies moving to the beat. He said I danced like a brown girl, a high compliment to be paid. We talked about university, and my plans for after high school. He asked if I went to the clubs.

"I'm sure I've seen you there before," he said to me. I shook my head,

"I'm too young,"

"When you're eighteen, I'll take you. Give me your number, you know, just so I know when to take you." I laughed, and gave it to him, shocked that he'd even asked for my number.

He texted me the day after the party, saying he wanted to get to know me. Then he texted me again yesterday. This is all so new to me. First a guy asks for my number, and then he actually texts me! My life is starting to get exciting.

Playing Truant

I skipped school for the first time yesterday. It was the first time I had 'properly' wagged. My friends and I left the school grounds in Joanne's white two door car. I needed to get my wallet, so we drove to my house first before going to the local mall for a feed of Mc Donald's. My mum doesn't work, so my greatest fear was that she would be home and ground me for the rest of my life, but I needed my wallet. Joanne pulled up outside my house and I crept up the driveway, my heart pounding in my ears. I reached the door and slipped my key in the door. If it turned, I was in the clear.

It turned. I breathed a sigh of relief and raced into the house where I found my wallet and threw a t-shirt on, abandoning my school shirt on the floor. I raced out of the house once more - making sure to lock the door behind me. My friends cheered as I arrived back and Joanne pulled out into the quiet street and we headed for the mall.

"I heard that if Mc Donald's see you in uniform they call the school and describe you," Samantha said as we pulled into the car park. We all sat silently for a moment. We were all too good to risk getting caught. For me it would mean the end. I was a prefect, and therefore one of the school's leaders. 

"Maybe we could go to BK..." Beccy suggested from the back. We all nodded and Joanne backed out and joined the steady flow of traffic.

After BK we drove into the park. 

"You're awesome at gear changes," Samantha said from the back seat, "I always stall."

"Do you want to practice?" Joanne asked, smoothly changing gear.

"What? No!"

"Why not? I'll help you, it'll be easy."

"I'm only on my learners!"

"Chicken," Joanne teased. Sam's face went hard and she turned to me,

"Six, get out of the passenger seat." We laughed, and I hopped out of the car and joined Beccy in the back. Joanne gave Samantha the instructions, and we were off. 

"Change gears now." The car jumped a little at Samantha's nervous hands.

"You're doing fine," Joanne said as we drove down the quiet road. Samantha sped up to normal speed, and her gear changes got smoother. 

Then, all of a sudden, we saw traffic lights ahead. We were about to turn onto one of the busiest roads in the city.

"OH MY GOD" Cried Samantha. The light turned amber...then red. We all panicked.

"The main road!" Joanne said, waving her arms about frantically.

"Get out and swap while it's red," I said.

"My car!" Joanne cried out again.

"We're going to die!"

"GET OUT AND SWAP!" I yelled again, half laughing. Finally they followed my instructions and leapt out of the car. Samantha forgot to apply the hand break, and the car slowly began to roll forward.

"Holy fuck!" I cried, and yanked it up just as the light turned green. Joanne hopped in the car and we sped round the corner, all of us screaming with laughter.

"Back home?" Joanne said. We all looked at each other and smiled.

"I don't think Sam's finished her driving lesson yet," Joanne laughed and continued on into the park.

"Here we go again," she said.

Eyes Wide Open

She couldn't sleep. The crisp white sheets crinkled as she moved about in her single bed, eyes wide open. With a sigh, she reached over and turned her lamp on, and light spilled into the room with its pasty yellow walls. Her room was a mess. On her desk were half a dozen unidentifiable bits of paper, most no longer relevant. The chair that sat under her desk was also cluttered. Clean clothes to be put away, then her school skirt, and on top of that, her blazer. On the floor were the pair of jeans she'd regret not washing when Saturday night's party rolled round. On one side of her bed were the books she was supposed to be working her way through for her history assignment. On the other were old magazines and the books she was reading for English - Atonement and Memoirs of a Geisha. She picked up the first and managed to work her way through another chapter. She was too tired to read, but too awake to sleep. It was a terrible cycle she was stuck in.

Maybe some milk would help. She pulled herself out of bed and quietly crept from her room to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, the cool blast only managed to wake her up even more. Silently cursing, she took the milk and poured herself a glass. Drat. This would mean she'd have to brush her teeth again. She really couldn't be bothered. Surely milk wouldn't do that much damage. In fact, it would probably do good, with all that calcium.

She returned to her room and placed the now empty glass by her bed. Finally she could feel sleep coming to her. She turned the light out and settled back into her bed, the sheets crinkling once again. 

She closed her eyes.

But sleep wouldn't come.

In the Mood to Party

Why is it that whenever you feel great and are ready to dance the night away, no one else is? I woke up this morning feeling great. Last night I went to the movies with some friends, and it must have put me in the mood for socialising because throughout the day, my need to go out and party has become greater and greater. On my lunch break, I sent round a text asking if anyone was keen to do something exciting. The only reply I received was, 

"Sorry - rearranging my bookshelf."

WHAT? That's the sort of thing I say. I'm usually the anti social recluse. Why have the tables suddenly turned? I'm going to end up dancing to my iPod in my room. What a depressing thought.

Movies I'd Like to Recommend

La Vie En Rose - I saw this movie last night. I've been dying to see it for ages, as my dad used to listen to Edith Piaf in his little French car. This move is absolutely incredible. If I could be half as good at acting as Marion Cotillard is in this film, I'd still be better than half the actresses in Hollywood. It will tear your heart out, then stitch it back up, only to tear it out all over again.
Atonement - I saw this movie twice in the opening week, and now I'm just waiting for it to come out on dvd. I haven't read the book, but this movie is just fantastic. I felt so many emotions when I watched it. The ending leaves you feeling shocked, and it stays with you for days. A friend said of the book that every time you read it you discover new things about it - well the film is just like that. I'd never been a huge fan of Keira Knightly until I saw this movie, but now she's got to be one of my favourite actresses.

Juno - I already reviewed this movie, so I won't blab on about it for ages. But it's a brilliant film, and I think that Ellen Page is just stunning, and is going to have a great career in front of her.

The Darjeeling Limited - This was a very, very strange movie. There is "part one," a short film in the beginning that doesn't really make any sense whatsoever, but then the actual film doesn't make much sense either. It's humorous and touching, funny and sad. My favourite line has got to be, "I love you too, but I'm gonna mace you in the face!"

The First Cut

I've been feeling really down lately. Like, really down. I feel as if I'm on the edge of a giant black hole, and someone can say something, and I'll fall right in. I can't find the ladder for ages, hours... Sometimes I don't find my way out until the next morning. Sometimes I'm fine, like today. But the other day, I was so down that I cut myself. I grabbed the nail clippers and pinched my skin. I have three little lines on my forearm now. 

I guess I wanted someone to notice me, and ask me what was wrong. The only person who noticed was my exchange student friend, who said "it looks like you've tried to kill yourself. Either that or you're a vampire," I laughed it off and said I was a vampire. He'd noticed them, but suddenly I didn't want him to see them anymore, I didn't want him to notice.

I'm sorry that my posts have suddenly taken a downward spiral. I'm trying my hardest to feel happy again, and by talking about it here, I do feel better. Thanks for your support :)

Dear Sister

My oldest sister causes endless problems in our household. If something doesn't go her way, she sulks. If someone else is having a bad day, she sulks. She claims no one's listening to her. She claims no one cares. Sometimes I struggle to cope. She doesn't seem to realise that we've all got problems. I can't address that I feel inferior to my friends and don't really fit in with anyone. That sometimes I just feel like crying for no reason, all because we're too busy dealing with her depression and bulimia. I can't load my parents up with extra problems because that would be unfair on them. My sister's constant "I'll just go kill myself, then" takes up enough of their time without them having to worry about me. Sometimes I just wish they'd notice. But they don't get the chance. As soon as someone focuses on anyone but my sister, they're neglecting her. I wonder if she realises what she's doing to everyone else?

First Time

I spoke to Ralph for the first time since finding out he had a girlfriend today. I hadn't spoken to him since I found out - not on purpose, but I just didn't make an effort to speak to him. I saw my friend from school in his shop so I went over on my break and had a chat. Everything went fine. I do still think he's incredibly sexy, but I'm willing to accept that he's not interested in me (his girlfriend's probably fat and boring ;P)

Promises to Myself

People always make promises. We rarely keep them, but it's a part of life. I make promises all the time. I rarely keep them, but here are eight promises that I wish to keep:

1. I will not reach size fourteen until after marriage. I have nothing against size fourteens, but I have never been that size, and I love being a size 10/12. As shallow as it seems, it makes me feel sexy. If I never get married, then I must never become a size fourteen. I don't want to be a horrible spinster who let herself go.
2. I will not let a boy intentionally mess with my feelings. This may be the hardest promise to keep, because I've seen people just go back to their boys again and again. I don't understand how they can do it, but maybe I'll understand if it ever happens to me.
3. I will always keep my sense of style. I hate women (and men) who look as though they've put no effort into their appearance. Sure, there are days when all we feel like wearing is crappy sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt, but if we're going to wear those clothes, we aren't going to go any further than the letter box. And if in the horrible circumstance where I do step outside dressed as such, I will wear dramatic make up to jazz myself up.
4. I will not lose confidence in myself. Sometimes I feel like shit, but I know that I'm not a bad person. I know that some people do find me attractive. I know that I'm fun.
5. I will continue to have fun in my life, whether it be dancing to my iPod, gossiping with friends, or flirting with a guy.
6. I will strive to be friendlier. Sometimes I'm not very open to making friends, and I think that it can be a bad thing. I sometimes think that in my attempts to be mysterious or aloof, I'm actually appearing to be snobby.
7. I will continue to judge people. I know that seems like a strange thing to promise, but I'm always judging people and I love being proved right or wrong. I usually keep these opinions to myself, but it is a good source of entertainment.
8. I will continue to buy high heels and jackets. High heels make me feel sexy. They make my legs look good. I actually don't own that many high heels, but I hope my collection will continue to grow. I love jackets. At the moment I own about five. That's not a lot, but considering I'm only 17, it's actually quite a few. And I just promised not to slow down.

To the boards now: what about you? Do you have any self centered and shallow promises like my first one?