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.