Sheesh dad

Okay, what I am about to write is stupidly teenage and 'you ruined my life'-esque and so may offend some people. Not reading this entry is recommended.

Today, after visiting the chiropractor for my stupid back and ankle (which is freezing in a bucket of icy water as I write) I went down to the local soccer fields to watch my little brother play is third ever game of soccer. As you may have guessed, it is very entertaining. But man, those soccer mums are competitive. I mean, yeah, I am too, but I'm not the one yelling out 'get in there George!' and screaming 'don't just stand there, Sam!'. At any rate, I was just standing there with my dad, having a bit of a laugh; nothing out of the ordinary. Something you might imagine to be embarrassment-free.

Wait just a second. Before I get into the gory details I would like to admit that I am aware that I sound like a stupid pre-teen (not that I'm far off) desperate to be a teenager and worried about her reputation. I went through that phase, thank you very much, and have no desire to revisit it. When I was 11, I was critically embarrassed of my parents. Why couldn't they be normal? Etc., etc., etc.

So, yeah. Standing there, yelling encouragingly at Jack- a good family orientated pass time. My dad goes off to the stall to get more lollies. Mistake number one. If he goes off somewhere he has to come back.
Mistake number 2: vaguely pointing out to my dad which refs I recognise from school.
Mistake number 3: Seamus.
Okay, that's a little harsh but who cares?
I'd been standing there for ages so why did he choose that moment to come over?

I also understand that this is kind of weird because said mistake trois is in our class and we aren't meant to write about people but, in my defence, he does say he's "The Doctor".

He came over. He could have just yelled his greetings but he came over and soon enough we were standing awkwardly. You can leave now, Seamus. What was I doing here? Well, I was watching my brother's game. I have brother? Yeah, I told you that when you asked last week. Yep, the one in the red shirt.
No, no, dad- turn around! Then my dad came over.

'Hey dude!' Dude? Dude! Seamus looked frightened. My dad had just said dude. To Seamus.
'Eve's told me all about you, you're Seamus right?' Dad, oh, dad. Ground, please swallow me up. Seamus, go away. They shake hands. Seamus actually walks away slightly away and my dad walks with him. They talk!
I am walking in the opposite direction. I'm red, I know it. My blood is justified in rising and cooling itself nearer the surface of my skin- Seamus (Summer Glau/ Doctor Who/ tele-porting Seamus) and my father were all of a sudden best buddies.

I mouthed I hate you at the BFF's and dad yelled over his shoulder 'I'm going to get it now!'.
Joy. Joy oh joy oh joy. Thanks dad. Yeah, I love you too.
I wonder what is going to happen tomorrow. My dad's best friend has not shown a track record of forgetting things or letting things go. In fact, he has a nasty habit of bringing stuff up from years ago.

I hate being embarrassed. Especially in front of Seamus, of all people.
A very weird happening indeed. At least I got to go home straight afterwards. And at least my mum wasn't there. Okay, so it wasn't a disaster. But, still. C'mon. Rather you than me.
I haven't been shamed like that in a while. I guess I just had it coming.

Planned procrastination

Hi there. Instead of doing real work, my chores, or something truly productive (or at least due in the near future) I am going to write this entry. I think I am going to include a long, ambitious list of things that I should do today. Fun, huh?
This day's going okay so far. I woke up at seven and made myself get out of bed- I had promised myself I would get up early. I have been having trouble getting to sleep later, so my theory is the earlier I get up, the tireder I will be, and then it will take me less time of tossing and turning for me to fall asleep.

I got straight out of bed and into my new, gorgeous Kathmandu shorts, a t-shirt and jacket. I was going for a ride. I left a note on the front hall table and stole out of the house. Just opening the work-shop door and seeing her there puts a smile on my face. I rode up the road as usual; up to the top of the hill and back down again. Oh, and I stopped and looked at the stunning view in between. I love early morning. So crisp and cold and new. The moon looked so big and inflated, hanging at the opposite side of the sky to the rising sun.

After flying down the hill I rode along the main road, planning to go to the school. When I got to the entrance I saw one cyclist go right down in front of me. I don't particularly like cyclists. No, that's not true, I just don't like riding by them. I'm not very fast, I'm not in cycling gear or anything and I feel stupid. I don't even like riding on the road too much, especially busy ones, I usually stick to the footpath. I went down a steep hill and up again, to kill some time. I went back to the school then, though. The rain was threatening and I did feel a few drops, so I headed home. It didn't end up raining, and now the sun is shining, but that's nothing different for this part of the world. Yep, I just looked out the window and it is fine and beautiful- I hope it holds out for tomorrow.
Oh, and I had a fruit bagel for breakfast. That makes a day good, surely? And if that's not enough, I'm probably going to see my freinds later tonight and see a movie.

Okay, so for what I should do today.
-Colour in my static image
-tidy my reasonably messy room
-go through my NSW papers and look at my errors, etc
-finish my maths homework
-finish the rest of the social science work; a notable amount
-do my French homework and revise for the unit test next week
-help my mum with chores (ew)

That's actually not so bad, is it? That's possible and totally do-able. Perhaps my old habit of writing massive, over-ambitious lists is diminishing? Well, there are unnecessary school tasks that I could be doing, like study or looking up the details of an achievement standard we have coming up. They're not unnecessary, as such, I lie again, but they don't need to be done for quite a while, or at all.
Is this long enough, do you think? Word says that it is 562 words long. I think that's good. I have got a bit to do today, anyway. Au revoir.

I want to ride my bicycle

It was a regular day. I mean, it was my last ever Wednesday of being a fourteen year-old, but besides that, nothing special.
Well, not until about five o'clock.
That day was so normal up till then, actually, that I can't even remember much of the details. Just another school day destined to sink into oblivion.

Oh, now I've counted back, I've remembered it being a day 1. P.E. first; running around the school; a full lesson dedicated to a warm up. Maths next, sitting next to Gabrielle and Aleisha up the front, doing geometric drawing, which is actually quite fun. What was next...? French; learning something about the metro. Drama last. Doing improvisation work. I think I went to the school library after that but I can't be sure.

Don't you find that funny? How even yesterday or the day before that can be so hazy? So unimportant? It's also a little depressing, when you give it some thought; a good part of your life is destined to be forgotten. Never seen again; lost forever. The stuff you do remember will be distorted; changed to be either really good or really bad. Their might be a few mediocre memories in there, but for the most part, it's those ones that stand out. Maybe, inside our brain it's a bit like survival of the fittest: only the most interesting memories last the trial of the time.

So, I get home from school, right? (Amazing, I know.) I heard my dad working under the house, so after dumping my things in my room, I went down to see him. I asked the usual questions: 'how are you?', 'how was your day?'. He was fixing up my little brother's training wheels, and with the prospect of my new bike on the horizon, I said, 'it's going to be so cool when I get my new bike, me and Jack will be able to go riding together'.
I went to walk away when my dad said, 'have you see my new Norton?'. As you can understand, I was confused. What was he on?

As I stood there, I began to get angry and fire questions at him. Another one? You bought another one? Mum doesn't know? What?! You get the picture.
I walked hesitantly towards the workshop door. I pulled it open, and their I saw my brand new bike.
He thought that I had seen it when I had walked down. This wasn't the case, however.

My reaction was less than over-joyed. I don't know why, but I wasn't happy. Well, I do kind of know, as a result of my own psycho-analysing. Firstly; he had spoiled it, hadn't he?
I later found out that they had purchased it on Monday (329 smackaroos), so this in fact was a new record for my father. He is a very generous man, but also quite impatient when it comes to these things.

I had a different idea in my head at the time about how we were going to buy my bike. I thought we were going to go shopping together. So, when things don't follow the plan in your head, or what you were imagining, they can often be disappointing.
When I had first laid eyes on this bike, a few weeks ago now, at the Warehouse, I remember being drawn to it (it's not like they had a massive range or anything) but after looking at it, thinking that it was a bit plastic-y. It was all one colour, a Pacific blue, and the mud-guard things on the tires looked like they would bend and move around. It sounds so stupid now.
It wasn't like there was another bike I has wanted. And that one was, like, everything I needed. It was perfect for me, really.

So, I moped in my room for a while. After the negative frame of mind had passed, I became, as my mum said, 'the positive Eve I know'. I decided to lift the mood (I had obviously offended me dad) and asked if I could have a test drive. Boy, am I glad I did.
I don't know adequate words to make you really see or understand.

It was bliss. It was amazing. The first ride down the road was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I can't recall how long I was out there, time seemed irrelevant at the time, but it was quite a while, I'm told.
It just rode around two close streets, but that didn't make a iota of difference.

The wind against your face; it gives you such a wonderful sense of freedom.
You're in control; you can go wherever you like. No responsibility; you don't have to think. You can just ride.
As I rode down the hill, standing up, I felt like if I jumped into the air, I would fly.

And as I looked out at the view, across the sea, at the sky, as the curving peninsula; sweaty, heart beating, leaning against my bike, I thought, this is the point.

If you can grow up, can you grow down?

I'm turning fifteen next Sunday, on the 19th. This is my last week of being a fourteen year old. Period.
I've been feeling quite sentimental about my childhood lately. When your fourteen, your considered a child; at the movies; admission to the zoo. Now, all of sudden, I am going to be paying adult prices. Adult!

I don't particularly want to grow up. All the responsibility; all your comfort being self-made. Who wants to be totally self-reliant? Bills, rent, and mortgages. Taxes and food shopping. Jobs. It doesn't sound appealing. This birthday seems to be the bridge between adulthood and childhood. When you're 13 and 14 you may feel like a teenager, but you aren't really, but when you're 15, it seems so grown up. So different, like a complete other phase. I mean, you can get your learners!

I know there's only one cure for growing older. The future will happen and time won't stop. You know what those hippies were saying might just be right: the only constant is change. With change, however, comes loss, and new things. New and unknown. You have to understand my apprehension: fear is the unknown, right?

I think that my reluctance to grow up isn't helped by my little brother. He is in year 2, and seeing the whole process of growing up has made me get nostalgic about my primary school years. I believe that it is perfectly natural to want to hold on to something that you know is slipping away. That sentence sounds more depressing than I intended, but the main point remains the same. I don't feel like like I'm ready to be an adult. But I have to realise that I am not suddenly going to be thrust into an office job and made to drink copious amounts of coffee just because my age changes. Everyday I grow older, right?

For every door that closes, another on opens. Sometimes I get really excited about life. Just imagine all the things that I am going to do in my life! The places I am going to see; the people I am going to meet; the things I am going to learn. It's logical to have some sadness related to growing up and changing, but it's illogical to try and do something about it- there is nothing you can do.

With this excitement also comes pure terror. Yesterday I was looking at old photo albums with my grandma and mum. It was of her during her teenage years. Like always, the concept of photos confounded me. And also, really thinking about the past. I was just thinking the thought when my mum put it into words, 'one day you'll be looking at photos of yourself with your children', she said. That really scared me.
I asked her if she was scared that it was 'all over'. She replied that she didn't have regrets, and that she is content with her memories because they were happy times, and she lived life to the full.
Noted. I'm not going to let anything pass me by.

Each phase is special in its own way. Each decade each year; every moment makes you who you are. You're constantly improving yourself; growing. I think about one year ago, when I was in year 9. Even that seems like so long ago, and that I was so young. I think about all that I have learnt in that year. Not only in school, but about life in general. It makes me want to learn more. Imagine what I'll know when I am an adult.

15. That's not so bad. And to soften the blow, I even get some cake.
5475 years young.

Cup cakes

Today my little brother and I created flower cup cakes. They turned out perfectly, and the whole experience, and the taste, was lovely. So, because I am so incredibly considerate, I thought I would put the recipe and method up here on my blog so that you too could make them. It was based on two recipes; one from the cup cake creations website, and the other from a food in a minute leaflet.
They're very simple to make, and they turn out even better if you share the baking process with a beloved family member. You know, add a little bit o' love, and all that.

What do ya' need?
150g marg. or softened butter.
3 eggs.
150g of castor sugar.
1/2 cup M & Ms (any variation)
175g self-raising flour
1 tsp baking powder

And for decoration...
12 M % Ms
30 marshmallows
3 tbs castor sugar
At least 2 different food colourings
1 1/2 cups of icing sugar

What do ya' need to do?
Before you begin, turn the oven on to 180'C, then line a 12 muffin pan with those cake-patty paper things.
Now, quickly beat the three eggs in a cup with a fork, then pour into a large mixing bowl.
Sift in the baking powder and the flour, and add the sugar.
Beat for two minutes with an electric mixture (I used a medium speed setting). Don't over do it- two minutes is adequate, and we don't want them turning out heavy, do we?
Fold the M & Ms into the mixture.
Then, using two dinner spoons (or any other instrument- it doesn't matter), evenly divide the batter among the muffin cases.
Gently place in the oven, and check on them in about 15 minutes (unless you have a super fast oven, then check in 10).
Leave them cooking for 18-20 minutes, or until the a golden and quite firm to the touch.
Turn off the oven and leave them in the heat for five more minutes.
Once that's over, take them out and leave them to cool off for a further 10 minutes.
After that, put them in a plate or wire wrack to completely cool off.
Don't ice them while they are warm!

Now, the petals...
Cut the marshmallows in half with a clean, wet knife. These sweets are sticky, so for nice halves, clean the knife regularly.
Put the sugar (again, divide evenly if you need to) in to a bowl and add 1/4 tsp of food colouring. Stir until the colour is even- it may take longer than you think.

To make the icing...
Put the icing sugar into a deep bowl (if you are making numerous icings, divide appropriately; we made red and blue, so we put 3/4 cup icing sugar in two bowls).
Add a single drop of food colouring. Our colouring didn't have a dripper top so we poured it into a 1/4 tsp then poured a drop from there.
Add a tsp of water, then 1/2 at a time from there. Add just enough water for a spreadable icing. Remember: you can always add more in, but you can't take it out.

Make the icing once your marshmallows are cut and your sugar ready, as it begins to thicken up quickly and becomes hard to spread (and the petals won't stay stuck on).
Ice the cup cakes, dip the cut side of the marshmallow into the sugar, then place on top of the muffin. Put the M & M in the middle. Hopefully, it will look like a flower.

Clean up, then enjoy!

Science Report

Last term we were given an assignment in science. We had to research five different ways of generating electricity. We could present it in any way that we like. Power point, essay, poster. I choose to write a report. I guess it was kind of like an essay, but it didn't have a formal structure, and it had a lot of paragraphs. I chose to do this because next year, and every year after that, in work and university and everything, you don't spend your time making pretty posters- you write essays and reports- and, eventually, books (a thesis or something like that?). Later, our science teacher said that we didn't need to print out all our information and highlight it, like we did for English. She did originally, I swear.

It's fair to say that I got a bit carried away. Not that we didn't have a lot to do. I'm just glad my efforts were awarded. I apologise for tooting my own horn, but I think I deserved what I got- I worked so hard. On the calendar above the thought of the month is, Never apologise for feeling- when you do so, you apologise for the truth. I think that this applies to me somewhat. I've realised, with the help of my mum, that I am never really pleased with myself. I am a perfectionist, it's true. I refuse to say sorry for having pride in my own achievements, comprende? I got Excellence +++ on this report. The mark doesn't even exist, but it's a nice thought. She also wrote, Awesome! I'd like to see a university student top this!
Automatically I think that she is over-exaggerating, that perhaps her hand slipped while she was writing that, or that she was under the influence. Why is my first path one that leads to belittling myself?
And hey, guess what? I got a perfect score on our electricity (physics) test, and I'm proud!

So, anyway, you saw it coming: I am going to post my report. Well, some of it, at any rate. It is six pages long, so I am just going to put the introduction and the section on nuclear power up. I hope you find it interesting. Frankie read the whole thing and said it wasn't boring, that counts for something, right?

Exploring Electricity Generation

Elektron is the Greek word for ‘amber’, and ēlectricus is New Latin for ‘amber-like’. The phenomenon of electricity began long before the Common Era. It was observed that rubbing the tree resin against objects such as fur and cloth would result in the amber picking up light objects. We have come a long way from that, and now have numerous different techniques to generate electricity- the energy which the human species relies on to survive, and which is necessary for our modern society to function. The methods used to generate the electricity that is causing the bulb above me to glow, and the computer before me to work, is produced through electro-magnetism.

“Electricity is generated when a coil of wire moves in a magnetic field. This is the basis of electricity generators.”
In a generator, there is a piece of equipment known as a turbine. When the turbine spins, so does the rotor. The rotor is made up of coiled wires, which have a slight electric current flowing through them. This produces a magnetic filed around the wires.

The stationary part of the generator is known as the stator, and this is also made up of solenoids (tightly would coils of wire). When the rotor spins, the magnetic field of the rotor causes electrons to flow in the stator, and this electric current then travels through transformers and transmission lines, until it reaches your home.

In a model version of a generator, like the one you’re in secondary schools, the turbine is spun by hand. On the massive scale of power plants, however, this just can’t be done. So the problem is something needs to spin the turbine. The only difference between different methods of electricity generation is what is used to spin the turbine.

In this report, you will learn about two generating methods which heat water to turn it to steam, which makes a turbine rotate; coal power, and nuclear power. I will also explain two direct drive methods, rather than turbine drive, known as hydropower and wind power. The final technique of electricity generation I will discuss in this report is solar power, which doesn’t use a turbine at all.

There are many other systems in place and developing, but I have chosen only 5.
Coal, nuclear, hydro, wind, and solar: many different ways; same underlying principle.

Nuclear Power

In the centre of an atom there is a group of protons and neutrons known as the nucleus. Within that nucleus there is a large amount of energy, especially in the bonds which hold the neutrons and protons together. In nuclear power generation, this energy is harnessed.

When an atom is split, the energy is released in the form of heat. Heat is not the only thing that is released when a neutron is fired into it, resulting in it splitting; more neutrons are, too. These sub-atomic particles then go on to hit into other atoms, and the cycle repeats itself. In most power plants, the element Uranium is used, as the atoms divide easily. In a nuclear power plant, these chain reactions take place in a controlled environment.

In order to explain this, I will need to explain the two different types of nuclear power plants. Firstly, the most common; pressurized-water reactors. In PWRs, the water that is passed through where the atom-splitting is happening is kept under such a high pressure (hence, it’s name) so the water does not evaporate into steam, though it still becomes heated. This hot water is then flows through the tubes of a steam generator. Outside of the tubes there is clean water, which is heated by the water passing through the tubes. It heats, and then evaporates into steam. This steam travels into a turbine, causing it to turn, and spinning the rotor within the generator.

Neutrons and heat are, unfortunately, not the only substances released when an atom is split, particle radiation is, too. Radiation is undetectable to a human without a Geiger counter (device used to detect radioactivity); it’s colourless, has no smell- it can be deadly. Even a tiny dose of radiation can be fatal to any organism. If it doesn’t kill a human through cancer or intestine dysfunction, mutations can appear in the effected person’s offspring because of damage to their DNA.

Radioactive waste is an inevitable part of nuclear power generation. Reprocessing the waste hasn’t really done much to solve the problem, seeing as, even though it can be used again, it results in a greater amount of waste, some of which is highly concentrated. There are safe ways of storing this waste, though, and with the correct equipment and appropriate precautions, it need not pose a direct environmental threat.

Green-glowing radioactive waste, atomic bombs, billowing smoke and nuclear meltdowns; this is what probably comes to mind when one hears the term ‘nuclear power’. No, nuclear electricity generation is not perfect, but then, no energy source is. Public opinion is based on incorrect information and stereotypes (such as the Spring Field plant featured on The Simpsons). Nuclear power is, in fact, a lot cleaner than fossil fuels, the most widely used fuel source, even though it is non-renewable.

Firstly, the pollution factor on everyone’s mind: green house gases. The only emissions come from uranium processing, but these are small. Otherwise, a nuclear power plant produces no carbon dioxide or air pollution of any kind. The gas coming out of the large cooling towers is actually steam. Perhaps this reliable source of 15% of the world’s energy is worth it?

Why don't you get something done?

Something has happened to me. I never used to be the kind of person who always talked about stuff but never did it. I never used to be described as 'all talk and no do'. Okay, so perhaps that is a little exaggerated; it's not my defining nature, but lately I seem to be saying all these things and never doing them. I make all sorts of promises to myself and to others, and neglect to fulfill them. My conclusion is that I am over-ambitious. I am asking too much of myself, and therefore I end up getting them minimum amount done. Though that sounds so padded, so self indulgent. Maybe I am just lazy, and don't have the will-power or motivation to get things done.

It would be nice if I got all that stuff done; it would be fantastic. I think the key is small goals and consistency. My running coach, John, said the other day when were talking about training,' I'm a big fan of actually getting stuff done'. So, instead of suddenly deciding to do 100 press-ups and sit-ups everyday (setting yourself up for failure), you should start of with 15 a day and gradually work your way up to your long-term goal. This makes sense, but it is a lot harder than it sounds.

I always make these amazing plans. I'll do this everyday- the results will be amazing!
Yes, the results would be fantastic, if I actually did it. I usually stick with it for a few days then forget about it, then end up writing a new list, or making some more wonderful plans or regimes.
Start small, and work your way up. It takes 26 days to make or break a habit- isn't that what they say?

I am quite an idealistic person. Wouldn't it be great if...? You know the story.
People should do this; We should totally do this; if only I did this everyday.
I think that's the habit I need to break. It's a relatively new habit and I just need to get out of it. The practice of writing these amazing (and amazingly long) lists reap no rewards, and only leave me feeling unsuccessful when I don't get anything done.
I am going to start with one or two small goals daily. Things like: today I am going to write a blog entry or I am going to write the introduction for that essay.

It's great to have goals, to work toward something, to aim high but, like everything else in life, there needs to be a balance. With exams awaiting at the ends of this term and NCEA on the horizon, this mindset and work ethic is what I need to reach my major goals and, better yet, feel successful and happy.

So, positive outlook, is it? And small goals. Achievable ones. Consistency. Just doing it.
I think that last one applies especially to me. I am going to be an efficient person who does get the things I intend to done.
Hey, look at that, I just wrote a blog entry.

It's raining outside.

It's raining outside. The weather has been threatening all day, but it only started raining sometime this afternoon. This post has no title as I write this, and I do not know what it will be about. I was hoping it might turn into a nice, attempting-to- be-in-depth kind of ramble, but now I've thought this, it seems like I've jinxed it. Anyway, let's see where this goes, shall we? It will probably just end up as another one of my never-to-be-finished drafts, though that in itself is an odd thing to write, because if I publish this it won't be a draft. Perhaps I just wrote that as a sort of anti-jinx; something to prove myself wrong against. Who knows? And better yet, who cares?

This question has been on my mind for the longest time. Who actually reads this blog? No one. I bet that no one consistently reads this blog. Yes, that's a bit of a bummer, but I'm not that worried about the lack of attention. Well, not in the way you might imagine. It just seems so wasteful to spend all this time thinking and typing and editing for something that doesn't matter. Does Ms. Wilson even read our blogs? By an off chance, or, by more of a predictable result of Murphy's Law, she will probably make a point of reading this blog and then calling it to attention in front of the class. Oh well, she mentions the (quote) screwed-up look of my face in front of them, so this shouldn't matter.
It seems that this whole blogging things is like a numbers game. She checks to see how many we have done, and when, and also if our link is highlighted.

When it comes down to it, though, as I have come to realise, no one cares what you think. No matter how hard you try to get it down into words and proper sentences, no matter how passionate you feel about it, who actually will this matter to? It sounds so pessimistic and a bit like the donkey Eeyore, but it's true.
I'm not depressed, I am, as always, simply curious.

I've heard that emotional intelligence is more important than that I.Q. (intelligence quota). Maybe people who say this are just bitter about their average score- I can relate, I'm no genius. I think this could be true, though. You think about what the ultimate goal of human kind is? A complicated question at best, but if you briefly glance at it, it appears as though all of our efforts go towards us living a happy life; about us feeling good; fulfilled; enjoying life.

Emotional intelligence is, if I am not mistaken, to do with how you interact and react to other people, and reading theirs, and your own, emotions.
No matter how smart you are, or how rich, or whatever, if you can't communicate with people, or are an arrogant smart-alec, then chances are you won't be happy.
If you aren't particularly smart, or are even below average in the I.Q. stakes, if you have good people skills and good friends, you will probably lead a happier life. Then, in the end, who is more successful?
That is why I think you emotional quota just might be more important than your intelligence.
This was an unnecessary lengthy explanation to something that doesn't really seem to fit anywhere, but bear with me.

The reason I am sounding a little sad or negative, I think, is due to that fact that today I found out the winners of the writing competition I entered Hunger into. I want to become more emotionally intelligent, so I have decided to analyses why I feel a certain way and see what triggered it. I think I feel this way because, for some unknown reason, I thought I might have won.
Okay, so the reason isn't totally unknown.
Ever since I won my first writing competition last year, I have started considering winning any that I enter. Prior to that, I wouldn't even think of it as a possibility; I just entered them for the sake of it. When I won my second consecutive won (it was a tiny, in-school thing, so I don't know if it counts), it sub-consciously strengthened this belief within me.
Secondly, I was quite happy with what I entered. I liked it, and quite often I'm not happy with what I write, so this was surely a good sign.
Also, the judges had said to 'make a statement'. I blatantly did this, but, now I think about it, perhaps a bit too blatantly.

Today I received two letters in the mail. When I got them, I automatically thought of this competition. My heart was beating and my mind was racing. They were bank statements.
I think these feelings were caused not only by all the reasons above, but also by the fact I had a really good day today, and so, whether I realised it or not, I was expecting my good fortune to continue.

Huh, I actually feel better. Instead of listening to music too loud and writing something angsty down and feeling tortured but somehow cool, I dealt with things intelligently and logically.
I wrote it all down, and it turned into another blog entry. On the plus side, no one will probably ever read this garbage, so they won't judge me on twittering along like a, well, twit.

Don't you love it when things work out?

Liberty

Liberty

‘Liberate your words-’ he shouted,
‘-and make your voices heard’.
None of us had ever doubted
What we knew to be absurd.

So we were clad in your beliefs;
And packaged up for war.
Fight to the death- for our country,
But what are we fighting for?

We headed off to war with no-one but ourselves,
To a fight a battle already lost.
To kill and bomb,
It’s just our population’s loss.

When they leave,
Let us start to mourn
Because they’re gone for good,
From our lives they’re torn.

But for what?
To fulfil an ego never satisfied.
To prove but one man’s point?
Patriotic, what a joke,
Just a country who worships Coke.

No-one’s perfect,
that’s for sure,
But some are inhumane.
Wars and bombing,
Pro death and pain.

Liberty, yes indeed;
Just a label- an empty creed.

I wrote this poem last year, I think, for a poetry competition aptly named Liberate you words. I was proud of it, and everyone really liked it. I stopped feeling so proud because of that latter. After some analysis, I realised people seemed to like it because they could understand it; it made sense; the knew what it was about. A lot...well, nearly all of my stuff is barley any of these things. It was in my anthology last year. Many of the people I let read it told me it was my favourite. When I read it at a reading the people clapped louder and sighed appreciatively for this poem.
Why did I post it on here? I guess, in a way, I am still proud of it. I mean, it is articulate, and topical. I seems like the kind of piece I'll look back at later and, depending on the type of person I am, either be impressed of embarrassedof my former writing. I don't know what else to write now. I'm contemplating posting more work from my anthology on this blog, but I am unsure. Oh, one more little thing. I remember being proud because I remembered the word 'creed'. I had read it and, not knowing what it meant, I had looked it up in the dictionary; actually using it gave me a thrill.

Festival!

Yesterday I went to a festival with my grandparents, my little brother and my mum. It is an annual affair, and is held in a small town half-an-hour's drive away. Our trip up there took about 50 minutes though, because there were roadworks happening; we were mostly stationary for those extra 20 minutes. I was kind of glad of the fact because my grandad is a race car driver, and he doesn't reserve it just for the track. So, in the back seat of my grandma's yellow sports car, leaning to the side because the roofs are too low for me to sit up straight, I was rather grateful that my grandad didn't have the opportunity to swerve and beep and speed (even though he did manage to pass, like, 50 cars when we went up the passing lane and everyone else stayed in the jam).

We arrived at half of twelve, and the festival was in full swing. Unfortunately, we had missed the duck race, reported to be one of the major highlights of the day. We scrambled as gracefully as possible out of the car and walked into the festive festivity. We even had their little, white and fluffy Westie in tow, Sparky. Grandad scored a park really close, and soon we were walking among the crowd, looking at the stalls.

After about three minutes Jack, my little brother, had got candy floss, and already had his eyes set on an $8 beaded spider...thing. There was lots of fudge for sale but I don't like to buy it because most of the time it doesn't taste as good as mine (as cocky as that sounds). We separated from the grand'rents soon after that and, well, this is what happened.

The next fours hours were filled of fun; buying stuff, food, laughter, and more food. We started our feast with some apple slice, and than I stole some of Jack's hot chips. That was followed by lemon and sugar crepes, which left us completely sticky. To my delight, there were toffee apples! They were proper ones, too. As you may have guessed, I became more sticky after that, even though I was content.

We got some really cool, and really cheap, bracelets. My mummy bought me two; one made of orange and white wooden triangles, the other blue and white beaded. After that I intelligently suggested that we use the water from my bottle to clean our hands, and then all was well.
We went to the rides then, which were really just four different bouncy castles. Jack went on the Fantasy Land one, and mum and I went into one of those groovy arty stores with beautiful, but painfully expensive, gifts and housewares. Have you ever noticed they all smell the same? I got this wreath of white roses for $4, when it was originally priced at $32. A steal!

We wandered around as everyone packed up. Jack got his spider (made in South Africa, you know), I got lolly cake and meringues for half price. We joined my grandparents and their friends on the water front and then we went to the playground. Oh, and we got free wood-fired pizza!

What a day. It definitely had the whole festival atmosphere, and my family definitely took full advantage of the fact. It had such a great time! There were several different acts of live music spread all around the town and even an American hotdog guy who kept trying to make people buy them. I even learnt about guide dogs for the deaf. I saw load of people I knew, too.

I couldn't face a festival every day, all that food left us feeling quite round and quite sick. We finished the day with haphazard omelettes and salad, and then a spa.
Indeed, a great day!

Vegetarian Banquet

Yesterday was not only the one year anniversary of the Fall Out Boy concert, and my auntie's nth birthday, it was also World Vegetarian Day.
To celebrate this occasion, a banquet was held as the local yacht club. It was called 'Candlelight and Roses', and, funnily enough, we dined by candlelight, surrounded by roses.
The ladies who had run my vegetarian cooking class had organised it; that is how we heard about it.

To get more hours for my Duke of E. award, I offered to help cook some of the food. I made the salads. It was actually quite a compliment, being trusted with this whole section of the food. (And now I have completed my skill for the award!)
Yesterday afternoon was dedicated to marinating tofu, slicing cucumber, chopping tomatoes and everything in between. I made three huge bowls of salads; Greek, tomato, and potato. It was a bit stressful; I underestimated how long it would take, but I got it done, even though I left a wake of destruction, and potato skins, behind me. I must admit, they did taste pretty good.

I was taken up there at 5 o'clock, and for the next hour helped tie down awnings, move tables and put out precariously balancing pink fan napkins. It seemed to be a bit crazy, and I must admit I was worried that that night was going to be a total flop. It all turned out fine, however, but the night wasn't flawless...

Brennyn came, which made it a lot more fun. She survived the drive up with my aunt, mum, and little brother (thank goodness he didn't bite her). After a little awkward beginning (when the gave us name-tages o f all things) we sat down and looked at the menus. For the drinks, main course, and dessert we had four choices to choose from.
Brennyn and I got grape cocktail (non-alcoholic), the walnut rissoles with roast veggies, and fresh fruit salad with So Good ice cream for dessert. My aunt got pineapple champagne, Thai noodles, tofu cheesecake and carob-cream pie. My mum got the carrot/apple/celery (interesting), the mixed dhal (delicious), and the steamed fruit pudding.
I pretty good hoard for 20 bucks per ticket.

Throughout the evening my friend, Jack, and I went out to the playground and small walks outside. We, luckily, missed a fair bit of Hugh's (the Master of Ceremonies) lame jokes and statistics.
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
I learnt that I am, in fact, not a vegetarian, but a lacto-ovo-pescetarian.
I know Brennyn was feeling a little uncomfortable because he was basically saying 'meat is the root of all evil'.
Despite those those things, the haphazard spot-prize technique, the fact it started an hour later than intended and there was half and hour designated to garlic bread, it was a good night.

Food, friends, family- a fool-proof combination.

Debate! Debate!

On the second Friday of term 3 I did something I've always wanted to do; gave a speech to an assembly. For a while now I've wanted to do this, to see if I could do it. The school auditorium was basically full, so that's about 400 people. 800 eyes looking at me, listening to me- what's not to like?

When I first heard about this debate, I was psyched. I even thought up the moot. It was all downhill from there. People were pulling out and not showing up; I was certain it was going to be a disaster. I even, uncharacteristically, tried to pull out; the last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself in front of hundreds of people. Miss Hawkes encouraged us, however, and, afterwards, thanked us profusely. Turns out the TravelWise assembly had required a debate, or she had promised one or something. All's well that ends well, right?

The moot was: students living within a 2km radius of the school have to walk or cycle to and from the grounds on a daily basis.
I was in support of this idea, and was first speaker of the affirmative team.

My speech wasn't the exemplar of debating perfection, but I think it at least sounded good. My criticism is that it was too narrow; I focused on just one point, and even though I discussed it in detail, it was not a major part of our argument for this idea. I think now that it should have been mentioned it in passing, then briefly elaborated (if that makes sense) and that I should have focused on more relative issues (as in relative to youth)
I did write most of it the night before, so cut me some slack.

Anyway. You might be wondering what I was talking about in the previous paragraph. I focused on, surprise surprise, pollution. You know, how the air pollution caused by cars is damaging the environment, and of course I mentioned global warming. You can probably see now what I mean. This subject was more of a bonus than a major issue to this topic- not something a whole speech should be related to.
Most of these doubts probably stem from the fact that the council members smiled and nodded their heads appreciatively and approvingly while my partner Seamus spoke, but didn't for me.
Yeah, we had two on two debate.
The other team was Tania and Gabrielle.
This debate wasn't marked, but I think that we would have won, solely based on the fact that the other two were less confident.

Confident, you say? Of course. When I first heard (an hour before the debate) that we would be speaking in front of the year 7 and 8 assembly, as well as the deputy mayor, I got nervous, and freaked out. When I walked into the auditorium, I got a few butterflies, but when I got on the stage, I didn't feel nervous at all. I'm serious, I felt utterly normal and at ease. It was such a pleasant surprise!

I think I gave quite a good delivery, and now I am looking forward to doing it better the next time.
I'm not going to bore you with the whole speech, so keep reading, but I am going to type up a paragraph or two.

Just a few chemicals car exhaust fumes contain are carbon monoxide, nitrogen dioxide, and benzene. These substances have been shown to produce affects on blood and bone marrow, These chemicals are in the air you breathe, and your blood can carry more than just oxygen. How do you feel to know that those chemicals may very well be inside you right now, interfering with red blood cell formation and shortening the life span of the cells of which you are made?

It's simple; it's obvious: reduced driving= reduced emissions. Making students walk of cycle to school is a way we can do our part to protect environment, and our own health. 2km is a short distance and can be easily traversed in 20 minutes, at a leisurely pace.
Every little bit counts,and an action such as this would make a good contribution, as well as setting a positive example and upholding our reputation of being oh-so clean and green. I hope you are aware of the damage car emissions are doing to the environment and our health, but also understand the small actions needed to target this problem. Students living within a 2km radius of their school should walk or cycle there, and I trust you now see why.

So, what do you think? Pretty snazzy, huh?

Speeches

Speeches. Public speaking. Most people cringe at the mention of those words. I've heard it's the biggest fear of the adult population. Getting up there, in front of everybody, everyone staring at you...well, it doesn't worry me one bit. I used to be scared, but now I have decided to enjoy it. Now I am focusing on improving, and becoming a great public speaker, not just someone who can do it.

For this year's speech in English class I decided to do the speech on The Brain. My topic wasn't that broad, we only had 3-5 minutes, but that's what I told anybody that asked. My speech was about sight and the brain. I mentioned three cognitive phenomenons intertwined with a lot of lame jokes.
This, I think, was my best speech so far. First of, the topic seemed to fit all the criteria. I found it interesting, it was relative, there were audience interactions, it was even humorous. My presentation went pretty much by the book, too. The beginning grabbed the audiences attention, I spoke slowly and clearly (thanks, debating), made eye-contact and varied my tone and pitch.

It wasn't perfect, though. I completely mucked up the start of one topic, and ended up saying 'sorry, I'll just start that again'. The most horrible bit was a certain movie that buffered for about a minute. I hadn't planned for that. I talked for a little bit, then asked if anyone had questions. It was so awkward. I freaked out- if my speech had been a joke, that clip was the punchline. It finally came on though, what a relief!

The main pre-speech worry was also concerning this video. It relied on people not paying attention, and I was worried that it wouldn't work. That everyone would just see the thing and I would be ruined. Luckily, that did not occur. Everyone, expect Seamus in Josh (who I still doubt) performed just as scientists had predicted. The people in my class liked the video and the flicker image; it was nice to pull something off.
The first experiment didn't work though- no one saw the black flash. My friends and some lovely people in my class put their hands up anyway. I think to see the flash requires time and concentration.
I'm remembering all the bad stuff now, ew!
Next speech, also, I have to remember my slides (and not have a picture of a clock pop up right after you;ve finished talking about it).

Anyway, here are a few excerpts from my speech. It was a lot better than I have made out, I am quite proud of myself.

-clears throat-

It’s over three quarter’s water.

It weighs about 1.4 kilo.
It can’t feel pain and it generates more electrical impulses in one day than all the phones in the world.
YOUR BRAIN

You and those 100 billion neurons share the most intimate relationship possible. That slimy organ is how you interact with the world around you. It enables you to see and smell, touch and hear, think and remember, and of course, it controls your vital functions. In my speech today, I am going to focus on sight and the brain.

Okay, so you might think that you and your brain are like best friends. I mean, you’ve known each other forever. It must be on your side, and of course it would tell you the truth, right? Wrong.

Yes, your brain is initially on your side, but sometimes, it deceives you, distorts your view of the world, and, well, sometimes, it’s just plain lazy.

If you want to see something amazing, click here. Look at the clip and count the number of passes the team in white shirts makes to one another. Don't cheat. Read the paragraph after. Do it.

Alright, how many did you count? But who saw the gorilla? No one saw the gorilla?
I’m not crazy, watch it again, and look out for the person in the gorilla suit.

This is the most famous example of inattention blindness, conducted at the University of Illinios by Daniel Simmons and Christopher Charbris.

What you have just experienced is known as ‘inattention blindness”. Basically, you haven’t got enough attention to go around. You are too busy concentrating on one thing, to notice something you would usually. To work, though, the distraction has to be unexpected. Real-life examples of inattention blindness happen everyday. Ever heard some involved in a car accident saying that they ‘simply didn’t see’ the other car?

During my speech today, I hope I have taught you something. I trust that you now understand that seeing really isn’t believing. Perhaps, I have even helped you begin to realise how amazing, yet not always factual, the human brain is.

But I know I have succeeded, because next time you find yourself in fourth block, staring at the clock, you’ll think of me, and some half remembered garbage about your brain and you eyes.

What a relief

It's the holidays. They are finally here!
What a complete relief. Two blissful weeks await.
It's only four minutes to two this Saturday, and my day has already been truly holiday-esque. I woke up around the usual time, and then, luxuriously, went back to sleep. When I finally did awake, it was to the smell of pancakes. What a delight! I dozed, the warm, sweet scent lingering about me, feeling rather at peace with the world. It such a simple pleasure; stretching among the cozy sheets of my bed, opaque light streaming through my curtains.

After I could no longer resist the smell of the wholemeal pancakes, I hopped out of bed, and greeted my family. The smell was stronger out in the lounge, and air slightly smoky; it was all quite delicious. After a warm serving of these treats, accompanied by vanilla yogurt, I went back to bed and read my book. I am currently engrossed in the vampire romance, Twilight. I started yesterday afternoon, and I have already flipped page 200.
I love being really into a book, when the character's thought are yours, and you can lose yourself among the story for hours. Reading, among other things, is how I relax.

I eventually pulled myself away from Bella and Edward to get dressed. It put on my new blue jumper, which is long, and has about 7 multi-coloured stripes across it. The garment sounds horrid, but it actually is nice. We were going to go visit my grandfather in hospital. He has just had a operation, bless him. My dad is not feeling to well himself, and we agreed that it was inconsiderate to go to a hospital when you have the flu.

As an alternative course of action, we went to buy circus tickets. I'm so excited. Better yet, we are in VIP ring-side seats. We're going tonight; it's going to be such a blast.
We went then to go and buy fish'n'chips, which I really wasn't in the mood for. We went down to the beach, and I had some overly-oily, heart-disease-causing chips and a potato fritter. Our family doesn't usually ever eat like this, and this meal was just another confirmation of why.

When we returned home, my brother and I went to shoot hoops in the garden. We have been doing this daily for the last couple of days. It is another way just to unwind, and I always feel so guilty being inside when it's beautiful out.
I then read some more. A little while later, I decided to temporarily leave Forks to write this blog entry.

For the first time in ages, Ms. Wilson checked our blogs on the Smart Board in class. My link didn't even work, but she congratulated people who had just one entry this month, so I think I'm fine.

Oh, another thing. Guess what I dreamed about last night? No, not another chemistry nightmare. We, as in our class, were sitting in our science class, and Ms. Wilson called me over. She then informed me that she wanted me to do both NCEA Level 1 and 2 next year. I freaked out, and just kept saying 'What!' over and over again. Then I started explaining to her about the sun expanding and encompassing Earth in 11 billion years, and then it kind of got hazy.
Dreams are fascinating, don't you think? Either way, my parents still laughed at me when I told them about it.

I guess that's all for now. These holidays are going to be great. I'm going to hang out with my friends lots, go to the beach heaps, and read a number of good books.
And, if you hadn't already came to this conclusion; yes, I am feeling rather optimistic.

My monologue

The sound of my feet beneath me is like my second heartbeat. It's so familiar to me now that...Oh no, how cliche does that sound?
2.15.25, who knows what that time represents? That's the fastest women's marathon time ever run, and it was run by me. Yeah right, that sounds like I'm well full of myself.
Okay, alright. Hi, my name's Paula Radcliffe, and I like to run.

That was the opening of my monologue.
A monologue, by definition, is a dramatic speech by a single actor (mono, meaning one; think mono-brow and monotone). This was our second drama assessment for the term. We had to pick a famous sports person and become them. We had to research them and find out not only about their achievements, but what it is that makes them who they are. How do they talk? How do they stand? What are their catchphrases, gestures and facial expressions? Since this information isn't usually recorded on Wikipedia or blogs, I watched many YouTube videos.

I've been a runner for as long as I can remember, and I think I always will be. It's what I love to do; I'm addicted. When I'm running I feel good, you know, I feel alive. But I don't like to make too big a deal about running, you know, cos' nearly everyone can do it.

If you hadn't processed the information above, I chose to do the English runner Paula Radcliffe. I saw her when I was watching the women's marathon in Beijing, ( as you probably know, she made quite a lasting impression). The more I found out about her, the more respect I gained for her. She's run four out of the five fastest women marathon times; she's (arguably) the best in the world. Plus, she seems to be really nice, and modest.

Winning, it isn't everything. I mean, I've had my fair share of loses and bad races. But crossing that finish line, arms raced, knowing that your the best, and that you've beaten everyone, well, it's what every athlete dreams of. Seeing my dad in the stands, smiling down at me; it's amazing. And seeing my husband, Gary, looking proud; nothing can beat that.

We were being marked on our use of drama techniques. That is things like voice, space, and movement. I am proud to say that I got an Excellence.
For voice, I did a (pretty bad) English accent, and varied the pitch and volume to match different emotions. I paced at the beginning (I was meant to be rehearsing for a speech), but for the most part stayed around the podium. I am quite glad; my performance had a climax; it was when I was talking about coming first. I came out to the front of the stage, and raised my voice and quickened the pace.

I went to the Beijing Olympics this year. I didn't do too smashing; I came 28th in the women's marathon, not a placing I'm really accustomed to, you know? I had my first child last year, little Isla...so I definitely wasn't at my peak. But don't you worry you, haven't seen the last of Paula Radcliffe. I'm just gonna keep running, keep training, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. There's not much else I can do really.
Hi, my name's Paula Radcliffe, and I like to run. [End]

I was quite pleased with my performance, and I enjoyed doing it, too. I didn't really get nervous, I'm kind of over that now. I'm more worried about giving a great performance, rather than just doing it, or remembering my lines. I would have liked to have drama next year, but the school only offers a full year course. I will probably try and do the school production again, though.
I have no witty conclusion to this post, sorry, so I will just end it here. Bye.

You only live once

Everyone has things that they want to do in their lifetime. Bungee jumping and sky-diving are popular among these 'before I die' lists, and they are certainly on mine. I have a large number of things that I really want to do; places I want to go; people I yearn to meet.
So, let's get started.

First off, to make the list authentic:
Bungee jumping.
Sky diving. Throwing myself of high objects just appeals to me, plus free-falling is a blast.

I want to...
Speak fluent French, and live in France.
See all the Parisian sights, and holiday in Nice (I hear it's really nice there).
Sail down the Nile.
Tramp around the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand and Stewart Island.
Buy a giant pretzel in America some where.
See the mini strawberry fields dedicated to John Lennon in Central Park, NY.
See my name in print- it would be fantastic to get published (I'm not sure what exactly it would be, though).
I want to go to the Olympics at least once. It would be amazing. (As a spectator, you idiot!)
And, I want to be an Olympic volunteer, and cycle next to the rowers, oh, and see Jörgen Persson win an Olympic gold medal for Ping-Pong.
I also want to go to a cheer-leading or gymnastics world championships (to watch, obviously)- it would be such a cool experience.
To run the London Half-Marathon, but firstly be able to run 21 km.
Have a white Christmas, and build a snowman with a carrot nose and everything.
To go to an American baseball game and go crazy (like everyone else), and get a foam finger!
Float in the Red Sea.
Dive in the Great Barrier Reef.
Climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.
Climb the Harbour Bridge, and the Skytower, and also ab-sail of the latter.
Have tea and jaffa cakes in England somewhere.
Travel around London atop a double-decker red bus.
I want to go everywhere!

I don't know what I want to be, as in a career, but I know where I want that career to take me. I have goals.
Ever since I was a young girl, I have always said I wanted to be a 'household name'. I don't care about being movie-star famous, and I don't particularly want to be, but what I would like to be is renowned in my profession. Perhaps, if I became a doctor,within the international medical community I would like to be known as a great doctor.
Although sometimes, I yearn for more. I want to be remembered. I want to be looked up to, and studied in schools. I want some little boy or girl to hear about me 100 years from now; research me; find me interesting; be impressed and inspired.
But what I would have done remains unknown.

I refuse to doubt myself, I am going to make a positive difference to this world. That is the main goal, and that is going to happen.
I am going to do all those amazing things on my list, and more, you just wait!

Sunday grill

Every week I look forward to reading the Sunday paper, or, more specifically, the Sunday magazine and the Escape extra. I sometimes try to appear intelligent by reading the actual paper, and often an article catches my eye, though usually I just stick to these two literary...um, things. Anyway, there are many regular columns that I look forward to in both these magazines. The 'Shoe of the Week'; the recipes; 'going up, going down'... It's all good fun.

One page I always look forward to reading is titled the sunday grill. An interviewer asks the same set of questions to a different person each week. I'm unsure what the criteria for the kind of person interviewed is, though they usually have something to do with the arts. I'm unsure if the answers are always true, I think they just say whatever sounds witty. To the reader like me, sitting in bed trying to eat cereal (I stress the word trying), I don't mind at all.
I am going to answer theses questions now, to fill in the space of the rest of this entry. I will say that I am going to be truthful, mainly because I know I won't be funny.

-clears throat-

What do you so on Sunday morning? Sleep in, wake up, doze, read and eat.

Pink or red lipstick? Uh...Chapstick?

What are you like at parties? Either singing happy birthday, dancing, or mingling tastefully (it's true!).

What do you smell of? I'll go by what I smell of after cross country; Happy Belle for women (delicious smelling...picked it up at Meenoos in Fiji) or Love Knot (a knock-off perfume I got from the Easter show for five bucks), but most probably sports deodorant.

Who is the most stylish living person on the planet? I don't know, Gerard Way?

Tell us your best shoe memory: okay, let me set the scene. We were looking for new netball shoes; my other pair were in tatters. We went to Rebel Sports, and I looked at these beautiful black and white Asiscs gel netburner shoes. Gorgeous! They were $160 (I had actually looked at them weeks before, never expecting to get them). I tried on some running shoes form the same brand and they felt so great. Mum said, 'you can get both if you hurry up'. What a feeling! I went for a run that afternoon- it was like I was running on a cloud.

Give us three words to describe your style: style? lack there of. Okay, how about summery, and jean-based.

What part of your body do you neglect? My back, I haven't seen it in a while.

Who is your favourite New Zealand designer? I don't really know! I only am aware of two names, Trelise Cooper and Karen Walker.

Tell us your favourite song lyrics: tough choice, probably
I wanna see what your insides look like, I bet your not pretty on the inside
Bury me in black, My Chemical Romance.

What are the five shallow, materialistic things you can't live without? My water bottle, my current book, music, shoes, jeans.

What is your first thought when you see yourself in the morning? Hello, you.

Have you found yourself yet? (Can someone please tell me what this means?) If you mean my place in the world, or what I am meant to do, then no.

Well, that was brutal- way harder than I expected. Hoped you enjoyed it!

Zoology

When you read the title to this entry, you most probably thought that I was doing an article on the branch of biology that focuses on the study of animals; their development, classification, and physiology. As likely as that might be, Zoology is, in this instance, the title of Ben Dolnick's debut novel. Please note that this entry gives the plot of the story away.

When I was shelving adult fiction one afternoon at the library, the cover of this book caught my eye. I know you aren't meant to judge a book by its cover and all that, but something must be said about an enticing front cover. I read the back, and put it on my mental list of books to read. Then, one Saturday morning, I was browsing through the books, and I couldn't seem to find anything I wanted. Then, to my up most pleasure, I saw the stark black and white cover of this book sitting on the shelf. I snatched it up, and along with several copies of The New Scientist magazine, I scanned the book into my temporary possession.
I don't see what any of that has to do with anything though, seeing as this was meant to be a book review.

Okay, let's start with the basics about this book. It was written by the American author Ben Dolnick, who, according to the two sentences inside the back cover, was born in Washington D.C. in 1982, and now lives in New York. It was published first in 2007 in Great Britain by HarperPress.
How about genre? That is a question I really don't know the answer to. I just searched it up on Google, and according to Amazon.com, it's a light bildungsroman. Yeah, when I first read that word I said 'say what?', too.
I then searched the word up on dictionary.com (the things I do for this blog) and it said that a bildungsroman is a type of novel concerned with the education, development, and maturing of a young protagonist. The meaning makes sense, but it's still one of the weirdest words I've seen in a while, and it looks as thought you could hurt yourself trying to pronounce it.
By the way, a protagonist, in this context, is the leading character of a literary work.

It is written in first person, from the view of none other than the protagonist himself, Henry Elinsky. Basically this guy dropped out of university (or college) after a semester, and so he just living at home with his parents, going to his dad's primary school music classes. He plays the sax, and, probably as a result from his father, believes that a being a jazz musician is his destiny. His parents are silently growing apart, and his life is not glamorous nor fun. Basically, he is in a rut. What I would call the quarter-life crisis; the time before true adulthood; the time where you're still unsure how to make pasta, or where exactly you send the bills off to, even though you've tried a cigarette and can by vodka if you so desired.

He goes to live in New York for the summer with his older brother, and gets a job in the children's Zoo in Central Park. He meets a girl who he falls in love with; he befriends some animals; he starts to find himself (whatever that means) and a little about his place in the world. For once, thank goodness, there was no romance. It was startlingly real. His love had a long-time boyfriend and wasn't interested in a relationship. He pined for her and obsessed about her, and his dissatisfaction and frustration were skillfully portrayed. I guess this book really was about truly growing up. Not in the literal sense, I feel, but maybe in the way that your are confident within yourself.

In the back of the book, it has questions that you can ask yourself. Horrible, book-study questions.
How does Henry change over the course of the novel?
What has he learnt by the end of his summer in New York?
I really don't know, but I suppose these questions don't have an incorrect answer. He changes; he grows up; becomes a person in his own right. He learns from mistakes and experiences, by exposing himself to new things, some of them painful. He learns that he is not a musician, and he learns he has a whole life left to be lived and that he should be excited.

I would say that Zoology is a good book. Not the best novel in existence, but it kept me interested. It hasn't changed my life, but I think I've learnt a few things (it sort of impossible not to grasp something from a book). This story would probably only appeal to people under 25; I definitely related to it, even though I am trying to give up worrying so much about the future.

Running

I like to run. I don't really know why I love to do it, but I have a few ideas.

I think that it might fulfil some instinctive desire. I know that sounds a little weird, but I think it might actually be true. Many of our everyday activities a fueled by instincts, or even habits of our cave-man ancestors. I am no expert, though I have read a few articles. Anyway, when we were living in caves, we had to hunt to survive. Hunting involved running, and there was also the aspect of running for your life. In this modern day and age, it's a fact of life that the human race is evolving at a break-neck speed. Think back to 150 years ago; we had barely anything in the realm of technology. Now we have managed to see and study the particles that everything is made of, travel to the moon, and generally rip the earth apart.
Since we are constantly developing and changing, what it means to be human must also be changing.
Running; it's primal. It is an activity common among animals. Perhaps this 'fast-paced stepping' is a way we come into contact with our true roots.

There is scientific evidence supporting what is known as ''runner's high". There are many theories of what causes it, and largely it remains a mystery, but in this paragraph I will use the most obvious reason: endorphins. Endorphin levels increase when you exercise. These proteins have pain-relieving properties and, chemically, are quite similar to the drug morphine. Morphine comes from opium. So, running= a free high? (Frankie, I see a new business opportunity for you.)
I know after I have run a certain distance, once I'm really warmed up, I get "into the zone". I wouldn't go as far as to call it euphoria; I simply feel good.

I believe in runner's high, though, because of the question of what drives me to keep running, as in, getting up early to go to trainings, and in the afternoons when I'm tired. Anyone who doesn't like running will tell you all the horrible things about it. Hot; sweaty; red-faced; puffing; feeling like your lungs are going to explode and that you're about to throw up.
Yes, I have my own goals, and other motivations, but there's one thing that keeps me coming back, and keeps me from stopping.
That feeling of being on top of the world. The thing that can only be described as a high. For me, however, this occurs more after the run is over. I feel so optimistic, and as though I can do anything. The achievement of covering that distance, or going at that speed, makes my problems seem small and solvable, and my outlook seriously half-full.

I think too much and I ask way too many questions. I am always trying to figure things out, and the constant nagging of why isn't fun. When I'm running, I don't think. It's terrific. It's better than sleeping or lying quietly, because it's then that you think most of all. That relief is just what I need. It leaves me feeling refreshed, and all those other wonderful things that I mentioned before.

And that's why I love running.

Anything that makes you feel that way, and gives you that self-worth, is a great thing. There's also other benefits such as the bonding between the people you run with, being in the outdoors, and, of course, keeping fit.

Time for a run, anyone?

Saturday

Yes, you read the title, and you guessed it, another entry about my day! Woo-hoo.
For your information, yesterday was actually more interesting than regular (though that isn't hard, considering the lard I have posted on here previously).

Okay, so I woke up at a leisurely 9 o'clock and ate an apple. I got dressed in my PatD shirt, and at 10 o'clock my dear mother drove me up to the hairdresser, where I was to (finally) get my hair cut. I hadn't had my hair cut all year. Talk abut split ends.
We walked into the salon, and the lady said it was going to be $20 (a steal, I know). She sat me down, and we discussed what I wanted to get done. Then, surprise surprise, she cut it.
It's a bit shorter than I imagined, but I guess it wouldn't look right to have short hair around your face, then really long hair down your back. I quite like how the fringe turned out, though, and I think once I wash it a few times and it grows, it will look better.

After that was done, I walked, much more light-headed, to the library, where my mum and I had decided to meet. I found a book I had been thinking of, and got out two magazines. We then went to Number 1 Shoe Warehouse, where we spent an hour on a fruitless search. I am size 11 at that shop, and they are rather rare, especially in the style you want. They have plenty of 10's, however, which is frustrating. We were looking for shoes to go with my dresss that I am wearing to this dance on Saturday. The problem is, I don't really know what kind of thing I want- I was hoping it would just jump out at me. Sadly not.

When I got home, I had a banana sanwhich, then played with my hair in front of the mirror. At quarter to one, my mum dropped me down at the local courts for the final game of the netball season. We warmed up as usual, and tried to look tough. We were playing Phoenix yet again, a year 12 independent team that are very pushy. I played three quarters, and think I did okay; not my best game ever. We won 31/20.
It was so hot yesterday. Now I know exactly why netball is a winter sport. I'd take rain over the sun anyday.
After an awkward photo, which we probably all looked disastrous in (it was, like, 5 minutes after the game), my little brother, mum and I went to the beach. It was rather pleasant, and the breeze was bliss.

That night I had baby-sitting. I had gone to an interview type thing with this family a while ago, but never had any contact, so I was happy they didn't think I was a nut-job. The son, Dylan, is so cute. He is 7, and he loves Bratz, Barbies, and SingStar. Watching him sing and dance to the PussyCat Dolls was very entertaining. We watched The Simpoons, then I put him to bed. He was so easy to look after! Unlike my mental little brother.
Oh, and I also looked after the mother's friend's little Toy Poddle puppy, Lulu. She was very playful, and whimpered when her owner left. She sat with me on the couch all night, which was nice.

For the rest of the evening I watched the Paralympic Games and C4, and thought about the homework I had in my bag. They came home at half-eleven, and I was home soon after.
It was a good day and night, and I hope it held some interest. Least of all, it gave me something to write about, which is always good.

No man can eat 50 eggs

What one likes to do tells people a lot about their character. Your habits, activities and hobbies describe your personality. Your likes and dislikes, loves and hates, really do make up a large part of who you are.
In this entry today, I am going to write about all the things that I like to do.

Running- not thinking sure is a blast.
Walking- this is when I really think things through and relax, plus I love being outdoors.
Playing netball.
Tramping/bush walks.
Swimming at the beach.
Dare-devil things, like jumping off high objects into the water, and stunts that give you a rush.
Climbing trees.
Baking- eating it is nice, but I like the actual making part, and then presenting it to my family (and getting positive feedback).
Reading- there's just something about being absorbed in another world, or another's mind.
Writing.
Eating- there's something about being hungry, then eating a good meal to satisfy you.
Listening to music really loudly.
Laughing hysterically.
Sitting with my friends and having a really good talk.
Having e-mail conversations with my my pals that are written seriously, but are actually composed of nonsense and inside jokes.
Watching feel-good movies, and movies that make you think, or make you appreciate the life you have.
Watching documentaries.
Learning about our world- what you are learning isn't always nice, but it is interesting.
Getting my marks- I like knowing what I got, why I got it, and how I can improve.
Learning in general, actually; "knowledge is power".
Understanding- nothing much can beat figuring something out and that wonderful feeling of, oohhh, I get it now, or ahh, that's what that means.
Watching random, late night television with my mum or brother.
Having a really long talk with my mum;, when she comes and sits on my bed, or I sit on hers, and we just chat about anything and everything.
Helping people, especially aiding them to learn or understand; you feel so successful.
Arguing, especially when you know you a right, and you win. Expressing your opinion is fun.
Sounding smart- when what you want to say comes out perfectly, your words just fit together nicely, or you use a new, complicated word- I love it.
Being a little kid with my six-year old brother- whether it be playing Sponge Bob, rampaging around the garden, or exploring our neighbourhood, I really adore our time together, and having a reason to go on the playground.
Handing in an assignment, and feeling proud, knowing that it is good because you've worked really hard (and then getting an E is nice, too).
Public speaking and performing in drama- people's attention; people actually listening to you- the majority of people crave that and so when I get it, I enjoy it. Making people think and laugh, and maybe even teaching them- it's great fun.
Blogging- I like it when I know what to write about it.

So, what have you gleamed from that list? I haven't analysed it, it looks kind of hard to, but I think it does show what a super-fantastic person I am.
P.S., I thought I would give this blog entry a random title so you would click on it, wondering what it was about. (Yup, it's a quote from that drummer.)