The Very Sad Truth

People tend to be brutally honest with me. They think I can take it. Which I can. It's more that I just feel incredibly stupid for never having picked up these super simple pieces of information about myself; when strangers or people I barely know notice them right away.

For example .

Today on the cyber-wonder that is Facebook, I had a conversation with I'll Bite Your Face C*nt Boy.

So called because one day I was eating pizza at a friends and he was giving me a massage, and all of a sudden he leaned over and bit my cheek really hard. I'm fairly certain there were teeth marks imprinted on my face for several hours afterwards, and was suprised it didn't bruise. Strange boy. He likes to fantasize about killing children, and takes steroids. A fair bit. He also likes me; and has decided that we're soulmates and therefore, married. I talk back to him purely because he is quite hilarious, and because my current lover is nowhere near as clingy as he is and I'm an attention whore and need to be appreciated. The fact I'm slightly afraid he'll stab me in my sleep if I don't reply to his messages has NOTHING to do with it, I swear.

But I digress. Here is the conversation that took place, and to make it slightly shorter and less annoying to read I have so nicely abbreviated his name to IBYFCB.

IBYFCB  : Wanna be my super awesome gf ?

 

Me : Sure. What does it involve ?

 

IBYFCB : Um you lose all contact with other boys, you love me and we will do cute stuff.

 

Me : Is there a slightly less effort involving version?

 

IBYFCB : This is why your single :(

 

 

Why is everyone always so right about me? And why do I fail to realise these things about myself?

Oh well.

 

 

Be good little ones, til next time.

Signs from Heaven, Sushi and Le Asshole

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah :)

^ You see that? THAT my dear friends, is my sigh of relief and content when two months of near grovelling paid off. Because today, I was woken up by a magical phone call (and yes, it was such an important phone call that I did not yell down the phone line and make the caller wish they'd waited until I had a couple more hours sleep and several delicacies from MacDonalds in my belly - I actually politely listened and replied).

Do you want to know why I sighed that exact sigh of relief after that exact (magical) phone call? Who am I kidding, no one gives a flying eff-muncher what it was about. But I will tell you anyway.

I got a call at 11:30am telling me that I started work tomorrow.

:) :) :)

I know it may not seem a very exciting prospect to those of you out there with nice jobs and cushy little salaries (mundane, even?); but for little old almost-6-months-out-of-work me - let's just say I couldn't have been happier.

And as I hopped out of bed and sprung down the stairs, without falling for once, and put on the kettle to make my morning Hot Milo; I thought to myself - clearly someone is feeling sorry for me up there in the cloudy kingdom of Heaven, I wonder what other lovely things they are going to send my way to pull me out of my well of stinkivity (or life, as some call it).

So I hopped on the internet and did a little checking of my various accounts; Blogger, Facebook... even the Twitter account I used twice and abandoned yonks ago. But it wasn't til I got to my hotmail that I discovered the second of todays miracles.

My little inbox, which for weeks hadn't popped up over 47 unread messages (all of the unread ones are just unimportant Spam emails from places I accidently gave my real email to, instead of my fake 'come-at-me-hackers-and-spam-cos-I'm-not-gunna-read-you-anyway' one); suddenly had 3 new offerings.

Two of them were unbotherable (one from a driving school? HELLO PEOPLE I already have my licence, and even when I didn't that didn't stop me! ... and one from my mum, which was accidental, as she loves my brother more than me and every now and then sends me an email which was meant for him which I'm sure was just a ploy to make me jealous...) - but the third was GOLD. I finally heard back from this promotions company I emailed months ago.

The whole thing started when I ran into friends giving out lollies (and eating a good share of them too) at a local shopping centre, and was like, 'What the hell? Why are you giving away lollies? Are you poisoning children or just trying to be nice for Christmas so Santa gets you a Sugar-Daddy and an apartment with ocean views??"

Turns out they were at work, giving out lollies to 'patrons' of the shopping centre, whilst actually shopping and eating the lollies (the poor little sugary bastards didn't stand a chance against the girls) - all the while getting paid nearly $20 p/h for their.... how shall I put this...              troubles?

Depressed and downtrodden after my failed attempt to get a job (which, as you read above - I GOT TODAYYYYY); I immediately enquired as to whether they were hiring. The girls gave me and email address and as soon as I got home (and remembered - so like a week or so later), I dropped them a line.

Anywho, today I opened my inbox to find an email from the promotions place, chock-a-block with information and lovely long attatchments for me to print out, sign and send in; in essence meaning - I GOT ANOTHER JOB.

Suddenly I felt like the Heavens were definitley shining down on me and I read on feverishly, my heart suddenly stopped (like a-dead-dude-when-he-hits-the-concrete-after-jumping-off-a-multi-story-carpark-kind-of-stop), as I read the last line of the email.


" Also, we would like to meet you next week on Tuesday Morning at 9.00am, would this time work for you?

Hope you are having a great week and I look forward to meeting you! "


No I cannot meet you, as I will probably going to be at work at my other new job on Tuesday Morning at 9am. Damn and blast! Why could you not have sent me this a week or two earlier and asked to have a catch up then, when I was not employed elsewhere?!?! Anyway, I calmed myself down, taking a large gulp of my milo (hot and strong, just the way I like it ;) ) and decided that clearly the big G was just making a slightly more intricate plan for my future employment. Maybe the offices would burn down on Tuesday and he was saving me from smoke innhalation and possible singeing of the eyebrows. Or maybe they were actually zombie demons trying to lure me in to eat my brains, and so by making me unable to attend the appointment he was actually saving my life. Smiling to myself and my wisdomosity (I like that word, just made it up, isn't it beautiful); I proceeded to download and print said forms.

And my printer decided to not work. Le asshole! What a time to go on the blink. But, remembering back to yesterday, and my solemn promise (haha - more of a boredom-and-curiousity-induced psychotic episode) to be healthy; I remembered that anger and stress are actually bad for you, and your blood pressure, and I was trying to avoid these things.

Then I remembered I still had a half a packet of Malboro's that my best mate gifted to me yesterday as she dropped me home; and went outside and smoked several. So I attempted to make them print again, lost my temper, hit Le Asshole with my hand on a weird angle and made it all tingly-sore; then sat down with the remainder of my milo and sore hand and wrote to you. Just in case you were in need of hearing about the mad rantings of an overtired (and now overstressed) teen.


And totally unrelatedly my Christmas present from dear daddy arrived today. And he really came up with the goods this time (like he actually did, it's pretty dang awesome if I do say so myself). He sent me, all the way from NZ, a SUSHI-MAKER! Dah-duh! And the weird thing is that when I woke up I was craving sushi. And now I'm thinking about it, as soon as I buy seaweed and boils some rice, I can make a hundred billion rolls of sushi in a hundred billion new-and-never-before-seen-or-tested flavours. For instance... pizza filling? I personally think that a Dominoes meat lovers on puff pastry, cut up into tiny strips and wrapped seaweed and rice would make a delicious and delectable new addition to the Sushi flavours family.

So chin chin good chaps. Top of the morning to you, and hope your day takes you somewhere marvellous. Even if todays marvellous-ness just consists of dreams of Dominoes-sushi.

Much love
Passionfruit Head

In Other News

Today (or yesterday I should say) I concluded some important things.

Firstly - I should definitley give up smoking, McDonalds and midnight snacks of salami sandwiches as me and my best friend have joined a gym and are trying to be healthy - not in the right spirit somehow.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !
I actually just had the same reaction reading that as my best friend's boyfriend did when I told him. Except for that he laughed so hard he snorted and hit his head on the wall; and I did not.

Also... don't walk into the front garden of the gym you are about to join with Maccas in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. Just sets a bad precedent.

But I digress...

Secondly - I should never let the aforementioned best friend anywhere in the near vacinity of my phone again. Even if I am being attacked by her ferocious attack budgie. Because even a vicious pecking is less painful than the embarrassment when she sends messages like 'I WANT YOU NOW' to who she thought was your current lover - but actually turns out to be a family member. I would rather, in fact, be attacked by several birds than suffer this fate - even though birds are my number 3 fear beneath Heights and Feet.

Thirdly and finally - wash out blonde toner fully. Instead of the promised 'rid-your-hair-of-yellow-and-gold-tones' effect it was supposed to have, I now resemble a passionfruit. Good on you yellow and purple hair, it has always been my dream and lifes ambition to resemble a tropical fruit.
NOT EVEN FISH ARE THIS RIDICULOUSLY COLOURED!
OR BUDGIES!
I'm pretty sure they didn't even make a POKEMON with this combination of hues!!! I think I will from now on only leave my house with a headscarf wrapped tightly over my abominable excuse for hair.
If I only I had money to get a proper shop job on it, but that would mean exposing myself to definite humiliation in front of both patrons and hairdressers. And scaring any children in the salon.

Because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't go back to a hairdressing place if the result going was running after my child as they ran into traffic in a blind and panicked frenzy screaming, "MUM THE GIANT PASSIONFRUIT ON LEGS IS GOING TO EAT MY SOUL!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAH!!!"


Goodnight my little bloglets, sleep well. And if you see someone resembling a large fruit walking around the town, just act casual :)

Getting Back Into It

I like to ride ponies, and a lot of my friends do too. I used to work with them, go out to mine twice a day to look after him, and ride almost every day. Then my old pony was retired, and I got a new one. The new boy's a nice chap, but he's just young and dumb - and due to my total pussiness I don't even ride him anymore. To be honest though, I gave it over a years worth of a go before giving up and resigning myself to the ground.

I've gotten on and ridden a couple of peoples horses since I stopped riding, but only really as a plod along. I haven't really tried to ride properly in about 4 months; the only exception being when I go and work out at my trainers and he puts me on his schoolmaster - a beautiful classically trained Spanish horse who does everything that's asked of him... even if it is by an out of practice teenager.

The other day a really good friend of mine offered to let me ride her little brothers horse. Lets just call this pony 'D'. D is a total schoolmaster at 19, and having been pretty much everywhere and done pretty much everything - even I felt fairly safe and secure. I mean... if her little brother whose a totally novice 7 year old can ride D unnassisted, so can I. And to the total suprise of myself, I actually could. After a little bit of walking and trotting yesterday, I even got her flexing and stretching properly today. I even cantered. And I feel so alive, like the part of me that I've been missing without even realising it has come back and shuffled it's way in.

Even the summer rain can't dampen how I feel. Which is kind of like a billion helium balloons are tied to my ass and I'm fucking floating on air. Except only like 10cm, because any higher and I'd start screaming for my life due to being too high up.

Anywho, the point of this post is to tell you not to give up on anything you love. Even if it's actually gone, remember it. But if it's not, go the fuck back and get into it. Because if it makes you feel like smiling, or laughing, or takes your mind off whatever else is not so good; it's worth it. Because I want you all to fly!

:)

Blonde Bombshells

So it's pretty much accepted that the Western Standard of beauty is blonde, with blue eyes, boobs and skinny everything else. But to be honest, I don't entirely agree. To be honest, I'm a big fan of the sandy/honey blonde, with waves or curls and a little regrowth - rather than the platinum 'plastic' look at the moment. The dirtier blonde reminds me of the pictures of mermaids I used to look at when I was little (before I decided I wanted to ride horses and drive fast cars instead of playing shop and mummy).
However - there are a lot of dirty looking blondes out there, and even those who usually represent the hair colour with sophistication and poise slip up every now and then.

It can be done so nicely though, and while I wait for my hair to settle into this lot of dye so I can then go to the hairdressers and get it fixed; I thought I'd soothe my soul with some beautiful blondes tresses.

Twiggy, ever the style inspiration. Only she could pull off a hairstyle like this with her big eyes and slightly imperfect style. I think the reason she was so beautiful is that she seemed slightly uncomfortable in her own skin, well at least that's what I see in photos. There was an innocence there, almost a real life goldilocks sort of thing. I could totally picture her stealing some porridge and using that look to try and get out of it.

Nicole Richie - beachy blonde. Not the biggest fan , but I do like her hair.

Caramel blonde looked really good on Mischa Barton, but a lot of people can't pull it off. Also love the layers on her, they add so much class.

Crazy curly blonde hair on Aly Milchalk (think that's how you spell it). A bit too blonde perhaps? I reckon a little bit of dark undertones would add to it but it's still nice.

I like the colour of her sister AJ's hair, but I do prefer waves. I think she looks really nice here though, and I am more a fan of her colour in this photo than Aly's; just looks nice and natural.

 Debbie Harry. Where can I begin? Well it goes without saying that she has to be in this post, because not only was she a hot blonde; but she was the only blonde/female member of a band called Blondie. Her style was so edgy, and I think it's inspired a lot of the dirty blondes of today. I can totally see Kesha in the photo of her on the top right. I think she pulled it off with a little more class though, not that I'm against Kesha at all. I just think it looks nice a little classier.

Kate Moss, ever the babe, even if she's always in the headlines for something or another. Sometimes I'm not a big fan of her style, it's almost too trashy, but sometimes she pulls it off nicely. I do like the colour of her hair though, especially recently when its been a little darker underneath and more honey on top.

I really like the way Kesha has brought dirty blonde back into fashion, not single handedly, but she's had a big influence. This photo probably isn't the best to showcase her slight trashbag style; I like it when it's a bit darker - but to be honest this probably suits her better. The only problem I have with Kesha is that a lot of the time she has her hair too much on the trashy side and less on the wild. But when it was a little darker underneath and she has little plaits and stuff in really long crazy hair I reckon it looks super amazing. And definite kudos to her - I don't think many others out there could pull it off!

Miss Lohan. I really like this colour on her - although she looked really good with her natural red also. It's a really nice colour, but not really as beachy as I like. I reckon it looks really classy though.

Hilary Duff is in here because her hair is pretty much sexy as feck. Perfect beachy waves, with subtle layers and dark undertones. It's just wild enough to have class without looking like she spent hours having it done (which she almost definitley did). One of my favourite blondes yet.

And what would this be, without the beautiful Marilyn Monroe. Her hair was obviously dyed, but it suited her so much! Noone would have paid anywhere near as much attention to her if she was brunette. I just love the way she was able to change it up from looking perfectly manicured and then sometimes like she'd just rolled out of bed with her hair a little flyaway and the tiniest bit out of control. But at the same time, ALWAYS classy. I obviously prefer the latter, but there was something to be said for the former as well. Oh Marilyn. Always an inspiration; and a pleasure to behold. 

Sometimes I wish I was a dude so I could be attracted to these babes. Unfortunately I don't swing that way, so I just have to be jealous and admire them simeltaneously - which slightly dilutes their babeness.

Oh well.

Also - just to be clear, my blog isn't just about clothes and hair. It will eventually have other stuff in it too. It's just that this is what I was thinking about when I sat down at the computer. So this is what my offering for today is.

Keep it ninja babes .

Tidbits

Here are some little nuggets of pointless information about my latest escapades which may or may not entertain you.

Out on The Town
Went out to the City a couple of nights ago (and not to go clubbing, as I'm underage and have yet to find a suitable ID); to view some of the state and surrounding area's finest petrol fueled monstrosities. And yes, I am talking about Nats. However, I didn't have the money to go the actual event itself until today, and of course the big guy in the sky decided that it should definitley rain today (also, why is it raining in January? Australian summers are supposed to be all about bronzed bodies and beachy activities - not worrying if Noah has had time to build the Arc yet). Getting back to the actual point, me and a couple of friends waited until it got dark and headed out to our state's pathetic excuse for a CBD and watched the action (and 28 cop cars); whilst trying to avoid being bottled or abducted. It was an enjoyable experience, albeit slightly harrassing. I swear to God, every male in the vacinity had to greet us, and I'm not talking about a friendly 'nice-to-meet-you'. I don't think I've ever experienced so many wolf-whistles, open and obvious stares and bad pickup lines. Serves me right for dying my hair blonde I suppose; in the dark the cat-piss-yellow glare it must give off obviously blinds those with XY chromosones to an extent at which they can't see it looks like I was hit with not only the ugly stick, but all the rest of the tools and instruments handy in the ugly tools garage - with a bit of excessive force from the shovel in the face department.

I Want
And just to prove that I'm a normal teenage girl, here is my current dress crush. I'm just in love with the colour. I think it would look amazing with beachy wooden and slightly faded gold jewellry, long wavy light brown hair with sandy highlights and a killer tan. Unfortunately I don't have any of the above. And even if I did, three of my friends wore this exact dress to their formals this year. But I can still dream (and drool).

Boarding House Antics
I am lucky enough to have never been in the position of living in a boarding house. A few of my friends haven't been so lucky. Me and one of my all time ever favourite best friends (let's just call her Barbie) recently went to visit a couple of our friends who are unfortunate enough to live in one. We watched movies happily for hours before realising 15 minutes from the end of Pineapple Express that we couldn't leave via any normal exits (ie the front door, or the back door, or any door for that matter). So after we'd finished the movie and dithered for a bit, Barbie and I followed our friends to the exit point. We went down to one of the stairwells and proceeded to climb and slide down the outside two stories and then walk around the back of the building to the carpark. It was pitch black and I'm extremely afraid of heights. Like, vomit-inducing from the mere thought of rock climbing afraid. However, not having a housekey for several months and thus having to climb through a second story window at all hours of the day and night via an unstable pagola have hardened me up. Still, I almost shat myself and was shaking for half an hour after that particular adventure. I suppose the moral of this story - plan your escape!



Well I'm off to do more adventuring.

Cheers babe(s)

In The Beginning

Just so that the first blog I post has a basis in (sort-of)fact, I decided to UrbanDictionary search what they actually are.

Here are a couple of results ...

Blog

Meaning 1

n.
Short for weblog.
A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I slept until noon today."

v. intr.
The act of posting to a weblog.

Meaning 2

Short for weblog. Blogs originally had purpose when the few people who had them actually had interesting and/or informative things to say. These blogs still exist, and are quite enjoyable to read, however the advent of blogger.com and livejournal.com has changed this once meaningful application into utter shit, allowing every day idiots to write about how shitty their lives are and why everyone should care.

Good Blog: Informative news, real humor and entertainment. Often build and published by someone with a brain.

Bad Blog: "School sucks", what you had for lunch, why your depressed because your 14 year old boyfriend dumped you and its the end of the world.

Needingless to say, I quickly decided that the majority of people who posted on this website are cynical and judgemental. Then after a little blog-cruising of my own I realised they were right, the majority of the authors were writing about the totally mundane in a surprisingly boring-yet-overdramatic manner. Finally I decided that although some of the blogs out there are  - how can I put this nicely... - just the ways in which people choose to document 'how shitty their lives are and why everyone should care' ; the authors of these particular UrbanDictionary entries, and everyone else in the blog-world should keep their minds open.

Everyone's shit still stinks, it's just that some people manage to make it more interesting to read about than others. And even if the stink of their shit is so strong it makes you gag, a little respect still stops you getting dragged down into it.

The reason this particular blog is about IS to document the occasionally shitty, vaguely but rarely exciting, and slightly mediocre story of my growing up. And to put it simply, this adventure's not quite the yellow brick road. But I'm not here to whinge and complain about any flying monkeys I come across (although to be honest, if I keep this blog caper up I'm sure that I will rant and rage every now and then). I'm just here to enjoy the journey, I'm not even fussed if I never get to Oz.

To be honest I kind of wish I was a Lost Boy - you have to admit, never growing up sounds pretty appealing. Especially at this age, when I've got my whole life before me when the amount of possibilities are simultaneously terrifying, exciting and exhausting. I'm not quite sure whether to run away with my tails between my legs or beg with my tail wagging and tongue lolling out. But I've decided to give it a good go, and try my hardest to have fun doing it.

And to be honest, a bit of knowledge gained as I go wouldn't go astray. Even though I've made enough mistakes to fill up several thousand of those annoying movies where everything keeps goes wrong and watching it makes me all irritable and bothered, I can't wait to make more. Because to me that's what life is - mistakes and everything in between.



So here I am bitches, let me at it.