Hunger

Hunger

I was in a state of starvation from age thirteen. My teen years were nothing more than a gradual form of suicide. I starved myself for the perfect body. I craved attention, I craved power, I craved love. I was sick, in the mind, and in the body. I lost my youth to this illness, to this cancer that eats you from the inside out. This disease, that eats away at your body and your sense and your hope. If you’re lucky it will spit you out or throw you back up, like the food it teaches you to despise. This is a hunger. A famine. It will infect anyone without the strongest sense of self, something so valuable you can’t even buy it.

This malady is a true murder of crows. It claws at you, it picks at you, it hangs above your head and relishes when you fall.

I was thirteen when I contracted it. It being a sickly relationship with food, and with myself. I’m still standing, but I will forever bare the scars. I live with a weight that I can never shed; the heavy shadow of regret.

Anorexic: someone suffering from anorexia; the severe lack of appetite and inability to eat. I lost my taste for life, too.

I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted to be skinny. I yearned for a boy to look at me in that way. Those three things would mean perfection and happiness, that’s what I had thought. I punished myself for not following the rules. Everything that entered my mouth was sign of my weakness. Nourishment became my enemy. I found solace in the pain of hunger, knowing that I was in control. I would spend hours in the front of the mirror, disgusted and hating what I saw. Like this, no one would ever love me. I would walk until my knees ached, and exercise until my muscles burned. Any comments, any pity or concern, propelled me, encouraged me. I had control over them, too. I wouldn’t let anyone see me eat. I wasn’t sleeping, but it felt like my brain couldn’t stay awake. I had no energy, and eventually I had to stop my exercise regime and my muscles wasted away.

I became the epitome of emaciation. I was just a ghost. Skin. Bones. A heart supposedly beating. I walked the corridors of my life, people always staring, gawking at what was left of me. Was this what I had wanted?

I starved myself. I starved myself until my stomach was a hollowed-out cave, and each rib stood out, translucent skin pulled tight across them. A young women with no breasts, just a flat chest like a young boy’s. Losing weight hadn’t shed my old self and revealed a butterfly. It hadn’t exposed the beauty within, like I had so vehemently believed. There were no curves to be seen. Just the awkward angles of jutting bones. Even my cheek bones poked out; my face was a skull.
My head seemed to wobble on my neck. I was disproportioned, in body and spirit. I lost sight of normality. I was drowning, but I didn’t have the strength to swim. I lost so much.

My body did what it could. It grew a fine layer of hair over every part of my body in an attempt to keep me warm. It was greyish-white and soft to touch. I was messed up, inside and out. No one would ever want me now.
So I spent my days looking at old photographs of a girl I once knew, at times I missed, and thoughts I longed for. Happiness. Fulfilment. I had felt either in a long, long time. I became addicted to magazines, and the people, the perfect people.

I decided I would get my life back on track .Finding the strictest diet I could, I halved the intake. Turns out it wasn’t so easy to go back the way I had come. I threw up often; partly my body’s fault, partly mine. My teeth began to rot. Now even my skeleton, the one thing that was solid in my life, was beginning to fall away.
There was no where I could go. No where to run.

That’s when I went to the hospital and became an inmate. I was diseased.
Tubes feed me daily; I was a baby bird learning to fly. My body was on the road to recovery. My mind, however, was never going to be ‘fixed’.
I good deal had been broken over those years of my life. Whole years; gone, eaten away like a feast on desperation.

Beauty.
It’ how you are inside.
It’s in the eye of the beholder.
Beauty is but a frame of mind.

In a world that worships perfection, the meaning of beauty is lost. There is no cure to this illness. Those young things will continue to despise themselves, and crawl the paths that I have, convinced it won’t happen to them. Beauty. Is it really worth it?

What does it actually offer us, except something forever out of reach?

A Mind of its Own

A Mind of its Own is a book written by Cordelia Fine, who has a PhD in Cognitive Neuroscience from University College London and a first class honours in Experimental Psychology from Oxford.

These two quotes grace the cover of the book, and in my opinion, sum up the book perfectly.
Alexander McCall Smith said, 'This is one of the most interesting and amusing accounts of how we think we think-I think'.
And, 'A fascinating, funny, disconcerting and lucid book. By the end you'll realise that your brain can (and does) run rings around you', is what Helen Dunmore had to say.

Before I read this book I hadn't even considered that we weren't in control of our own minds. Yes, we sometimes tend to remember events in a way that reflect us better, but how could we not trust our own brain? Well, in this book I was told a good few reason why we shouldn't trust our very own brain, and how we should be wary of it.

You will learn so much in just 170 pages, and after you turn the last page, you will know all about 'how your brain distorts and deceives'. Fine gives examples with every statement that she makes, explaining the concepts in easy-to-understand ways, using barely any university terms. For every thin we learn about the brain she provides an experiment that has been conducted that prove its truth, or that provides some evidence that supports its truth. Not once did I consider this book as research, homework, or the like, it was simply fascinating reading, and I definitely will delve further into this topic.

The book is divided 6 chapters: The Vain Brain, The Emotional Brain, The Deluded Brain, The Pigheaded Brain, The Secretive Brain, and The Bigoted Brain. Each topic was highly interesting and kept me turning the pages.

The Vain Brain discusses the 'protective layers encasing your self-esteem [that] reveal the multitude of strategies your brain uses to keep your ego plump and self-satisfied'.
The information in this chapter, and through out this entire book, is so true. It makes sense, and not only that, I've seen evidence of our delusional brain in the past couple of weeks at school. A girl didn't get a great score on a test, she turns to me and laughs, I didn't even try, she says. Her brain was just protecting her from the prospect of failure. Don't be ashamed of your brain and its methods though, please; as Fine says, 'without a little deluded optimism, your immune system begins to wonder whether it's worth the effort keeping your alive'.

I do hope your eager to read more, but I must forewarn, the information revealed in this book made me rather disconcerted, and even a little scared, at the prospects of that 3 pound mass in our heads.
But as the say, knowledge is power, and when it comes to our brains, it looks as though we need as much as we can get.

Where do I see myself in 10 years?

Where will I be in yen years' time? Where do I see myself?
Well, I'm sorry, but I just do not know.
I could be in my 5th year of studying medicine.
I could be working in a low position in the New Zealand consulate.
I might be in France, sitting outside a run down café, considering my career as a struggling writer.
Maybe there is going to be a time-warp, and I'll still be sitting here in English, waitingfor my creative writing grade. I could be anywhere.
Do you really expect me to know what I want to be when I grow up? I'll tell you one thing for certain, I'll want to be young again.
One day I'll have a career, one day I will be dedicating my life to something. How can I know what that is yet? I'm only fourteen years old, people!
Do I want to think about aging, growing old?
No, right now, I don't want to think about the future. All it achieves is more questions that I can't answer. Answers I can't find in any text book or through any amount of research.

Will I be involved in the UN? Wanting so badly to make a difference but only ever talking. Just talking and talking, producing treaties with no binding power on every problem in the world.
Will I be a lawyer, a reporter, a politician?
What do I want? Do I even want anything?
I suppose I have always dreamed of being a household name, not necessarily famous, just renowned in my profession. I want to enjoy my job and not think of it as work. I want to be making some sort of positive difference. I want travel. I want a wage with which I can live comfortably. I want to publish a book. I want people to study me in school, or study my texts and speeches, to use quotes of mine. I guess I just want it all. But that's one thing nobody can have, and I know that sooner or later I am going to have to make some decisions. Eventually I will start to explore options, but for now, I plan on enjoying being a kid.

I can't fight time, I can't stop it, and time waits for no man. The future scares me more than you can imagine. As they say, fear is the unknown. What if I never amount to anything? All that dreaming, all that ambition; wasted.
Now I would just like to fleetingly mention talent. If I had something I was blatantly good at, I would have a clear cut path to the future. Some sort of sign to follow. But I don't have any talents. I'm okay at school, though I haven't got a high IQ and I'm not gifted. I can sort if write stories, but I'm hopeless when compared to anyone else. I am in limbo; mediocre at everything.

So, where do I see myself in ten years time?
There is no way for me to see, and the fog that blocks my vision will only be dispelled over time. As I learn, about the world and about myself, and grow, in wisdom and as a person. As I just grow up.
I'll be somewhere in ten years' time, when I'm 24. I just don't know yet, so I'll get back to you.

The Cold Truth about the Future

This is what I wrote for our formal assessment in creative writing assessment in English this term. Our subject had to be our town in the future, and it had to be over 300 words long. This subject quite appealed to me, since I have been thinking about the future a lot recently. I got Excellence for this, which I am quite happy about. I hope you enjoy it.

The Cold Truth about the Future

Snow poured from the sky without mercy. The wind howled, screaming like lost souls. Its icy grip was strangling the very air. Its glacial tendrils pulled at the sky, tearing it down. It was nothing interesting, just another snowstorm.

The dull metal walls of the school stood strong against the frozen rain, impenetrable and stoic. Somewhat like a prison. The giant flexi-glass windows revealed students within, sitting at desks, learning about the world. The windows were thick, their image slightly distorted. It was like opening your eyes under water, the world still there, just changed; softened.
My footsteps dared not make a sound as I traversed the snow covered path. Turning the heat up in my coat, I tried to distinguish the shapes hidden beneath the blanket of white. Everything was the same colour. Having just fallen from the sky, it seemed to glow, transforming everything into an ivory blur.

Last week in history, we were studying our country, New Zealand. Apparently it used to be famous for its beaches. Where there is now just frozen navy shallows frozen to the bare shore, there used to be soft, warm sand, and water pleasant enough to swim in. I know our teacher would never lie to us, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot imagine it. That era is not even real now, too much time has passed. The present is separated from those years by a chasm impossible to cross. With each sunrise and sunset, with each dark, arctic winter, the bridge that had connected us to that time was burning.

The world around me now is a different place to what it used to be. It was once an innocent child, and now it is an adult. It has suffered the trials of growing up, and as a result, become stony-faced and emotionless. For a long time, I had never questioned the earth. But as I grow up, and understanding imbues itself upon me, I am discovering that humanity is no where near perfect, and how our selfishness as a species has come close to destroying our home. So many mistakes have been made, sometimes I wonder at the fact we’re still around.

You see, it never used to be this way. Nature had been unchanging. Then, a little something called global warming started happening, and eventually, something had to be done. It was our mess, but instead of cleaning it up, we just eliminated it altogether. We always had been good at disposing of threats, instead of solving them. The white-coats of America decided to scientifically modify the climate. This was done by moving the planet slightly out of orbit, away from the sun. An ice-age in a test tube. It’s a shame they didn’t realise the consequences of such a move on country so close to the Antarctic. Soon after, the town had become a place plagued by blizzards. Whole species of plants and animals became extinct, along with nearly everything we had ever known.

I enter my history class now, and in turn, stare out at the layer of frozen water covering the school. It hides everything. Covering the past like a good alibi; covering our tracks.
Here we are, enveloped in snow, trapped within our past mistakes. History can be a disconcerting place to explore, but the answers are always there; all you have to do is look. Unlike tomorrow, which remains unknown.

That Night, on the Precipice of Magic

You hear about it in movies, you read about in books; how one noise or song can take a person back to their memory. That is exactly what happens to me when I hear This is how I Disappear by My Chemical Romance. The strong, unforgettable opening bars take me back to the Vector Arena, where I saw My Chemical Romance live. December 6th.
The best night of my life.

Standing, unbelieving, in the crowded arena. The lights dim; 150 days of counting down has lead to this moment. The stadium is dark; screams erupt. I can't describe the feeling. Joy. Excitement. Ecstasy. None of those words even come close. I look over to the wing of the stage. I see Ray's unmissable 'fro. I see Mikey holding a bass. I see Gerard freaking Way. Me and Amy glance at each other. Her expression is mirroring mine. Eyes wide, conveying the question, 'can this actually be happening?'.

We grab hands and jump up and down, and just scream. The emotion inside us has to come out. They take the stage. The lights are still low. Then, that's when I hear the noise; the symbol crashes four times. The sound of that first song. But that wasn't how I disappeared; that was how I felt more alive, felt more really there, than I can remember.
Gerard screamed, Go! And everyone went crazy.

They were right there. They were so close.
We danced and sang and cried, yelled and jumped and cheered. Every moment was amazing. A world apart from a damn CD. A world away from reality.
How can I describe it to you? I can't give it justice, that's for certain.
But when I hear that song, I takes me back. My mind travels through time and space, and I'm standing in seat 37, watching magic; being part of it.
The flames that graced the stage heated our flesh. The stage lights controlled our vision.
Over one hundred thousand people singing the words; unified.
From Cancer to Cemetery Drive, we were there. It did happen.

I remember the morning of that day. I packed my black tee-shirt into my school bag, and knew I'd be different when I came home that night. That day wasn't real. I had a maths exam. There was a light grey sky. It rained. In the afternoon it was humid, the air warm and heavy.
But the night...

The night was so beautiful, so amazing, it almost hurt. It's gone now, but it will always be there.

If you were here I'd never have a fear.
So go on live your life.
But I miss you more than I did yesterday.
You're so far away.
So c'mon show me how.
'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say.

Some might say we are made from the sharpest things you say
We are young and we don't care.
Your dreams and your hopeless hair.

'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say.

-Give 'Em Hell, Kid

A Beautiful Sunday Afternoon

'Let's go on an adventure.' Jacks suggests breathlessly.
We walk outside and stand on the drive way. The wind is blowing strong, and I could see a storm on the horizon. The sky was unusually dark for a Sunday afternoon.
'Spin me around, Eve,' my little brother asks. 'Make me fly.'
I hold him by the wrists and begin to turn, lifting his entire body of the ground. 'Round and 'round we go. I remember the pure ecstasy this used to give me as a young child, and vow to do it every time he asks. We stop, the world tilts to the side. The confusion is gorgeous; standing still and watching the world spin.

We run up the road, dizzy, and high on cookies. We aren't going particularly fast; we can't help laughing. Jack spots a man pruning some bushes in his front yard and this seems like the funniest thing in the world. We quickly turn to run in the other direction but spot two people heading our way. We run into the only spare section on our street, up and over the ridge to hide. Not being spotted gives us a little thrill. We creep back to the path and spot a lady power walking down the other side of the street.
'Act normal.' I whisper to Jack. We walk together slowly, humming a tune, suppressing giggles. As soon as she walks past we crack up and sprint off. We run and run. Down the hill to Swann Beach.

The dark green waves crashed against the sea. The tide was high. A quarter-moon hung daintily in the sky. We stood at the end of the walk way, heads thrown back,pretending to fly. We climbed down the tree and jumped in the the surf. It was freezing cold, but it didn't matter. We jumped and splashed and ran and danced. Me and Jack, Jack and I; we were on top of the world. We climbed some trees, and yelled at one another above the wind.
'Come hit the wind with me so it doesn't get you.' Jack says seriously.
'Why would you hit the wind?' I ask him. 'He's a nice guy.'
He looks at me for a short moment, then nods; this makes sense to him.

Soon after we are sitting on a tree trunk that has grown over the edge of the cliff. There was nothing beneath us. The sky was now navy, and the moon shone brightly.
'I wish we could go there, to the moon.' Jack says, gazing upwards.
'One day,' I say. 'One day.'

And so we sat, with the rain coming, with the wind blowing, with the sea roaring; just sitting, just being; just living.

Have you ever wondered?

There are some questions we always seem to be asking, but never answering. They aren't necessarily important queries, but ones that we do find ourselves thinking about quite often.
I have recently invented the belief that, in order to begin answering life's bigger questions, you should take care of the smaller questions, the ones you are capable of answering.
During my hours at the local library, checking in and shelving books, I have been fortunate enough to come across books that I never would have otherwise. Some of these books have held the answers to some of those very questions; antidotes to cure some of my perennial curiosity.
Lying in wait inside those pages are not only replies to my plaguing inquiries about the world in general, but pathways that lead to other discoveries and more knowledge.
I found the answers to the following questions in the book Why is Yawning Contagious? by Francesca Gould.
I recommend you read it.

So, why do onions make us cry?
When you cut an onion, sulphur compounds from inside the vegetable are released into the air. When these compounds come into contact with the water on our eyes, it reacts, and creates sulphuric acid. This acid is, as one would expect, quite irritating. Our eyes then produce tears from our lachrymal glands (tear glands) to 'flush away to irritant'. Rubbing your eyes will only make the sensation worse, as you would now have sulphur compounds on your fingers.

Why do we get goosebumps?
When we are cold tiny muscles in our skin (erector pili muscles) contract, causing our hairs to stand on end. When we were once covered in hair, this would result in a layer of warm air being trapped between the skin and the hair, keeping us warm.

What is the ''funny bone''?
Most of you will think the thing that causes your arm to tingle in the painful way when you knock your elbow is a bone. However it is actually a nerve. This nerve is known as the ulnar nerve, and it runs down the inside of the elbow and ends in the little finger, controlling the feeling in your fourth and fifth fingers, and the movement of the wrist. The nerve is connected to a bone called the humerus bone, which runs from the shoulder to the elbow. As you may have concluded, this bone is what gives the ''funny bone'' its name. The painful tingling you experience you feel when you bang your elbow against something is a result of the ulnar nerve knocking against the humerus bone.

And, just if you were wondering, the medical term for using your finger to pick mucus from your nose is rhinotillexis, and the act of eating one's ''bogies'' is known as mucophagy.

Today

As you may have observed, I have been enjoying writing about the different days of the week. Well, today is Friday, so guess what I am going to write about? No, not bananas; Friday!
So, yeah, you can exit now if you like. Lately writing about my days has been the most favourable option; it's so easy. It requires barely any thought or concentration- I can just write. And we spend our entire life living in one of the seven days, so they must be important, don't you think?

But before I start, I have just recalled something from yesterday, and I felt like recording it. Ashwin, my fellow debater, came up to me to ask about the NSW Writing test that he also sat. That lead on to us trying to decide on a day that we were all free for the next debate, and I realised that I was actually quite busy. As my friend put it, 'You do realise that you have, like, a million things on, right?'
What things, you ask? Well...

Monday- Cross Country training after school
Tuesday- maths tutoring in the evening
Wednesday- Cross Country during tutor time and interval, Alice after school
Thursday- Netball Training and library service after school
Friday- Cross Country in the morning, 7.30
Saturday- Two games of netball, the first at 9.00.

Okay, so it doesn't sound like that much, but when you have to try and fit in debating, as well as homework, and maybe even some free time, it gets rather difficult. Now, as the show nights draw near, we have rehearsals definitely every Sunday from 10-3, Wednesdays, and a different scene every morning. I also have NSW Tests to worry about. But as I have previously mentioned, busy is better than bored.

Anyhow, today I was woken up at the dark hour of 6.30. I think my body is adjusting to these early mornings, I got up without any trouble. I think it helps when the temperature isn't too icy, either. I left home at about five past seven and walked into school in the morning twilight. It was very pleasant. I find the world is quite a different place in the different lights and times of day. The birds were just waking up, and singing there own cheery alarm tunes. I walked to the auditorium and was there right on time. I watched them run through the first two scenes, then it was our cue. The gardeners star in the beginning of Act 1, Scene 2.
'Don't go splashing paint over me like that, Five.'
'I couldn't help it, Seven jogged my elbow.'
'Always lay the blame on others.'

Can you imagine in that? Here we are centre stage, card gardeners, frantically painting a white rose tree that isn't really there. I realise that I really have to memorise my lines word-perfect, so I can start working on my accent, volume level, and expression. It's going to be really fun though. But we have like a gazillion rehearsals in the next 2 weeks. Tuesday in three weeks time is opening night!
Oh, I also found out what our costume is going to be like. Black tights and skivvies, with card, dress-type...things.

It finished at 8.30, so sadly, I did have to miss out on cross country. The school day started with science, which was a really cool lesson. We got to change a solution from acid to neutral to alkaline, and see all the bright colours of the pH Scale. It was quite frustrating at times (one drop could turn it from dark blue to glowing orange), but very awesome.

We had Social Science for 2nd period, and watched some more country presentations. We got free corn chips and salsa! Then we had maths, and at lunch I decided to sit this week's debate out, since there are now four of us in the team. During lunch, my friend, Francesca, and I used imaginary phones to call each other and ask one another out in French. We were practicing for our French oral, and it was indeed a lot of fun. A few people gave us weird looks, but it was worth it, we both got Excellence!
We got our French tests back in fourth period, too, and I got 89 out of 90. I made two mistakes.
I forgot to put the 's' on prends, and messed up a question in the written dialogue.
I am pretty happy with that result, though.

I had said I was going for a run that afternoon, but after to talking to Brennyn on the corner until half four, and sitting on the couch when I got home, it was soon dark and it was too late to go out. What a shame.
My parents were going out to celebrate my grandma's 70th that night, so I was babysitting.
Jack and I watched America's Next Top Model and ate ice cream, and then we watched Cartoon Network and ate ice cream.

It was a good Friday, even though the date said it was the 13th, and therefore a black day.

I have a dream

I have a dream. This is no average, materialistic dream; no. This is a dream, a vision, for the future of our town, a hope for our involvement in the solution to climate change and pollution. I am no expert on the subject, but I understand the fundamentals. We either have to stop producing so much carbon, or implement a method to match our large carbon footprint.
There is a sustainable solution readily available to us. A perfect solution. Perfect because nature created it; trees.

We all know the basics of photosynthesis; leaves absorb CO2 and excrete oxygen as a by-product. Trees have been and are being cut down for agriculture and housing in a mass extinction. 90% of the Amazon Rainforest has been cut down, all done in the last half-century. There have been negative and severe results due to this in-balance of Carbon. There is more Carbon in the atmosphere, which traps the heat from the sun inside, somewhat like a greenhouse. The polar ice caps are melting and sea levels are rising. It's not too late to clean up the mess we have created.
This is what I want to do, this is what I want to give back to Earth.

Driving down the motorway you will see acres upon acres of cleared land on either side of you. No one wants to live there, and most people would prefer to live the farm life far removed from the noise of incessant traffic. If you have driven down there recently, you will see the area has been zoned industrial. That means that somewhere in the near future, factories will be sitting there, blocking the horizon. What I want to do, is plant trees.

I want to fund raise the money to buy a decent size block of land around that area. I want to fund raise money to buy trees, some native, some not, and involve the community in planting these trees. Create a wood, a forest, a small-scale solution to one of world's largest and pressing problems. I want to nurture them, and just let them grow. In a few decades time those trees will be strong, and we would have helped the world. A Carbon processing plant more efficient than any factory.

Then, in a perfect world, more people would get behind the cause. That once rural area would not be turned into a factory belt, but rather into a majestic stretch of trees and forestry.
Even though this world is not perfect, I think this could happen. I would love to initiate a program such as this. Make the world take notice; inspire people, countries even, to take part,

Yes, I would like very much to turn this dream to reality. I fantasize about nurturing it, and seeing it grow into notable project on the environmental front.
I would love to make a positive difference.

Though for now I will just have to bide my time, and plant a few trees myself. I encourage you to do the same. This month, just go to the plant store and buy a small tree or seedling. Plant it in your garden, and watch it grow- you'll feel all the more better for it, and so will the world.

Go on, do the world a favour, it's done everything for you.

Thursday

Thursday is always such a long day. For instance, last Thursday, I had netball training in the morning, then the regional Cross Country Championships, then library service after school.
Today was slightly different, but just as busy, and just as tiring.

The alarm sounded in its horrific beeping way at 6.45, guest-starring in my dream before I became fully conscious. It was dark outside, and sleep was still beckoning me, but whether I liked it or not, it was the beginning of another day.
I stumbled around in my room, not really doing much except for trying to wake up. It seemed like I had just pulled on my netball shoes when the clock informed me that it was 7.30. Yelling some mildly offending obscenity I managed to pull the rest of my things together and get out of the house on time.
I walked to school, the sun not even in the sky, and made my way to the gym. I felt so lethargic, much as I do now. We started netball training with running, and I must admit I did feel better afterwards. Then our coach informed us that shooters had to shoot twenty goals, and every time they missed they had to run to the half-court line. Oh, and while they we were doing that the whole team had to be running. It wasn't actually bad, as I do like running, but I wouldn't go as far to say as it was good fun.

After struggling into woollen tights it was time for a maths class. I do like maths, and sometimes you're in the mood for plain logic. But when that 'plain logic' just doesn't make sense, it makes you feel all the more unintelligent.

Second period. Time for the writing test I had payed $13.50 to take. I did okay, I think, but nothing spectacular. After that was done half an hour later, I literally ran to the other side of the school.
I entered the silent French class red faced and breathing hard. Did I forget to mention that we were having a French unit test second period as well? I sat myself down and stared at the words.
Gradually, I calmed down and managed to make sense of the questions at hand.
I got it done, and, again, I think I did alright, but probably not perfect.
In Business Studies the next period we were told that we had a test on Monday that counted for half of our grade. Yay.

Lunchtime was enjoyable, as it is most days, just sitting, eating, talking with my friends.
Next we had English, which was actually quite fun. Besides copying down 90 town names that we have to memorise, we didn't do much else. Oh, but we did make origami blow up...things, which were very entertaining, especially when thrown at other people.

Next was library servie time. I walked to the library, and read to pass the time between the end of school and four. I checked in books, then did a bit of shelving. I came across two interesting magazines while I was scanning the loads of books, which is in encouraging. That's one of the best things about the hour's service I do at the library weekly; finding the books I never would usually. I glanced of those New Scientist magazines earlier, and there lay answers to some of my never-ending questions.

At 5, as I stepped out into the twilight, I slightly regretted declining my mother's offer of picking me up. I was reducing my carbon footprint by walking, I consoled myself as I stood at the pedestrian lights, Im saving the planet.
The walk home wasn't as enjoyable as it usually is, but it did give me time to think, even if I was having to concentrate on staying upright and keeping my eyes open. My shoulders hurt and I was dead beat, but I had done it; it was over.

...until tomorrow, when I have rehearsal at 7.15 in the morning.

Last Sunday

You poor, neglected little blog. It seems a lot of time has passed since the last time I have pushed Publish Post.
I sit at the computer now, not entirely sure of what I am going to write about.
Okay, how about last Sunday.

Firstly, there was an all day Alice in Wonderland rehearsal, and I didn't go. I had been given a notice with all the dates on, I just hadn't realised it was that Sunday- it didn't even cross my mind. But I am committed, I am.
That aside, I had a wonderfully laid-back day.
I slept in, a luxury that I can indulge in only once weekly. I slouched around the house in my pajamas and bed socks, and watched the cartoon channels. I played a game of Monopoly against my 6 year-old brother, and won. When I informed him that he owed me $1000, he had a fit. He threw a tantrum and decided to help himself to five hundred dollar notes from the bank. I hadn't got as much satisfaction from charging him rent and beating him as I thought I would.
See, the last two times I have played him he had been very lucky and actually won. So, I, being the competitive person I am, had been determined to crush him. But when he landed on Strand from the sixth time, with three houses sitting on it, I hadn't felt good. Especially when he didn't calculate the sum of the dice, and asked, ever so eagerly, 'Did I pass you?'
Though, he was probably just using his cuteness for his advantage, the conniving little brat. Lately, he has developed a fetish with stealing my things. He hides them under his bed, and then loses them. So neither of us can have my Disney Princess Aerial toy now.
He even stole my MCR shirt, but luckily, I salvaged that before it was too late. At least he has some taste.

Anyway, moving swiftly away from that ramble, and back to what I did on Sunday. All in all, I employed different avoiding tactics throughout the day. We had to do a project on a developing country, and I usually love that sort of thing, but once I know I have to do something, the fun dissipates, and it becomes a chore.
My first tactic was going for a walk. My little brother and I walked to the dairy and bought butter, milk, and sour gumballs.
When we got home, I made banana bread. I hung 'round in the kitchen, grazing, then ate some.
I then decided to make apricot tartlets. I did this without any recipe, something that I am quite proud of.
I actually didn't get to try one, but around my house, that's a good sign. They were eaten pretty quickly.

By that time it was a good way through the afternoon, so I sat at the computer and got the hard stuff done- GDP and HDI stats, etc. About forty minutes later I decided to go for a run.
The tide was low, the shadows long, and it was beautiful, as usual. It was a really good run, and when I returned I, wasas refreshed and ready to tackle my project.
Metaphorically, that is.

That's all that I can remember about that day, but as it is, it will remain in my memory as a good one. So there you go, not the best or most substantial blog entry, but one all the same.

A Substantial Blog Entry

What is it that makes a substantial entry? A 'proper' blog; a piece of writing that isn't considered cheating or a short-cut?
Substantial- 'of ample of considerable amount','of real worth, value, or effect'.*

Rule #1 in my opinion is no copying and pasting. An entry that is composed of ''c & ved'' material only is not an entry at all. This practice is only acceptable if you, a) write more than the copied writing, b) are writing about poem or similar and feature it in you entry,
c) are using quotes or definitions, and d) cite your resources.

You shouldn't use a large font size to make it look like you've written more.

Another thing I believe should apply is that an entry should be, at the very least, 250 words long. 150 of those words have to written by the blogger.
The point of this whole blog thing is to be improving our English skills, and typing up a few hasty sentences will reap no rewards in the long run. Lists, are fine, as long there is a reasonable explanation, introduction, or conclusion. For example, if you were writing a list of what you liked, something such as this,
I like flowers, because they are so pretty, and remind of me of rainbows and infinite joy.
I like the colour yellow because it reminds me of of daffodils, sunflowers, and summer, etc. would be considered reasonable opposed to,
I like: flowers, yellow, kittens, etc.
Of course, they would be longer, and it was just an example.
But if flowers remind you of infinite joy, that's cool, too.

Rambling. The act of 'digressing from the main subject' and 'lacking in order or constancy'.*
Rambling, it's great, but to be a proper blog entry, it must adhere to a few general rules. It must make some sense. Disjointed, random stories and things are fun to read and write, but it has to have some point, some reason for being written, other than making your number of entries going up one. The point of a ramble could be to discuss thoughts or ideas of yours, things you are unsure of, unanswered questions, or just an update of your life in general. But it must flow to a certain degree, and be basically understandable.

Grammar and spelling must be correct. Come on people, we are in the 10th year of our school lives and should be able to use an apostrophe by now! We have punctuation and spelling checks readily available to us, so use them, people!
Proof read your work before you publish it and use paragraphs.

So, does this entry count as substantial? It is 417 words long, it has a point, even though it is slightly ramble-esque. It makes sense (to me at least), follows basic grammar rules, and the copied definitions have been cited.
See? That wasn't too bad, was it?

Post Script: an entry can be as boring as you like.

*Thank you Dictionary.com

Brownies

I would say that a fair few of us have good memories associated with chocolate brownies.
The thick, chewy, decadent bars suit many occasions. They can be a classic but classy desert, cut into large rectangle pieces and served with vanilla ice cream and fresh raspberries. They can go in lunch boxes and on afternoon snack plates; they keep for weeks. They are perfect for midnight snacking. But beware, they are quite rich, and you might feel like you want 5 more, but eating too many will leave you feeling rather uncomfortable.
Happy baking!

Chocolate Brownies
Needed:
150g butter
1 cup baking cocoa
2 large eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup plain flour (can be more or less depending on your batter)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup chocolate chips

How to do it:
Preheat the oven to 160'C, and grease a tin. The tin should be around 25cm by 20cm. You can grease with butter, spraying oil, and line with baking paper if you so desire.
Melt the butter in a large saucepan, then stir in the cocoa until smooth.
Allow that batter to cool for around 10 minutes, because if you add the eggs at that temperature, they will start to cook.
Beat the two eggs in a cup with a fork until thoroughly combined. Add to the butter/cocoa mixture a little at a time, beating well.
Gradually stir in the sugar.
Pour the flour into the sift, then put the teaspoon of baking powder on top, and sift into the mixture together.
Add the chocolate chips and quickly stir through.
Pour/spoon the mixture into the dish.
Bake in the oven for 40-50 minutes, until firm in the centre.

Icing isn't necessary, but having a nice think layer on the top never hurt anybody.
Mix together 1 cup icing sugar, 1 tablespoon or so soft butter or margarine, 1 teaspoon cocoa, and
add milk slowly. Mix together until reaches a smooth consistency.

Remove the dish from the oven and leave for 30 minutes (my tip is to hide the dish away from hungry family members).
Ice, then cut into bars, and remove with a fish-slice, knife, or spatula.
Don't be deterred if the first bar doesn't come out smoothly; the first piece is always the hardest.
You can freeze them, store them in a air-tight tin, or serve immediately!

They are quite easy to make, and just so good.
I hope you can create your own sweet-tasting memories with these delicious treats.
Bon appetite!

[The brownies in the picture weren't made by me, and was taken from the How-to become a Fairtrade Cook site. The recipe is based on the Nestlé Baking Cocoa recipe.]

The First Debate

As I mentioned in my previous entry, the fourth of June was a successful day. This was because we won our first debate of the inter-school competition.
I had originally planned to make that point the climax of this entry, but there you go, and now you can find out all that lead up to the adjudicator saying, And the winner of the debate is the negative team

We had to travel half an hour to get to the school we were versing, a rather uncomfortable trip, cramped in the back of Miss Hawkes's sportscar. With a few students from the opposing college watching us, we un-classily stumbled from the car, and walked towards the office building. After pulling on the handle of the locked door, a tall, blond haired boy who had been just standing there, said, 'Are you the ones here for the debate?'
We were indeed, and so he lead us in awkward silence towards the library.

It was deserted except for the remaining two members of the affirmative team, the Chairperson, and the adjudicator. Seats had been painstakingly seat up for an audience, which was non-existent.
It was encouraging, because an audience can be intimidating and off-putting.
But on the other hand, it did make one feel lightly lame, and as I discovered later in the debate, it made the task of presenting your speech difficult, as there was no clear direction in which to face.
You aren't meant to speak to the opposing team; it is your task to persuade the judge and the audience.

The affirmative team's first speaker started, as debating protocol states. He did pretty well, but he did go quite over-board of his descriptions of a world without recycling. Since the moot of the debate was concerning our district only, it wasn't entirely appropriate. After he finished, it was our first speaker Ashwin's turn to speak. He had a very good speech prepared, but he didn't do any rebuttals because he was unconfident. We could have rebutted his use of international examples, but eventually he ahd linked it back to Rodney, so it was not completely sound.

The second speaker of the affirmative team became very passionate towards the end of her speech. She was also speaking terribly fast, and as a result she was practically defeating the purpose of what she was saying. When we discussing the debate afterwards, we couldn't even remember what the main points of her speech had been. This was because she was speaking too fast for our minds to process and remember what she was saying. Speaking too fast is a common mistake, and a habit you eventually grow out of as you become more confident. She also had a very long speech, and I suppose she wanted to get it all said.

I was the second speaker for our team, and I think I did alright.
Our team really got into details, whilst the affirmative team split the moot up, which didn't turn out to be the best strategy.
Our third speaker, Tania, had never debated before. She is from Holland, and has only been speaking English for three years, which she learnt through immersion.
Tania was unsure about what a rebuttal was, and since that is supposed to make up 70% of a third speaker's talk, it probably wasn't the best position for her.
She read her speech well, though, and spoke clearly and at a good speed.

Ashwin rushed through his right to reply, and I saw the judge roll his eyes, which wasn't very encouraging. As the fist speaker of the affirmative team made their right of reply, summarising their main points and their rebuttals, Ashwin and I became quite hostile.
We were consoling ourselves, because we so certain that we had lost.
'How did they expect us to go against recycling?'
'The probably choose the the moot themselves, and picked the easiest argument.'
'Oh well, hopefully next time it will be an easier argument for us.'

After sitting in silence as the adjudicator made his calculations, he stood up, and started making some points. Most of them were directed at us.
'Your notes were to big, cue cards are better.' Etc.

He then said that I, Eve, had had the best speaking speed, and that I was the best speaker of the debate. I felt really good when he said that; I was proud of myself. Tania tied for second best speaker, which was just what she needed to give her a confidence boost.
Each speaker was marked out of 20 for Content, Style, and Strategy. So, that means that individually, I got the most points overall. It also goes to show that only 50% percent of a debate is content.
We were shocked when he informed us that we had won.

Following some formalities, we were on our way home, marvelling at the score sheet.
'Are you sure he didn't get the marks mixed up?' Ashwin asked.
I guess because we weren't removed from the debate, we couldn't judge the persuasiveness of our argument.
Miss Hawke's said she was so proud of us, and that she had started to become convinced that recycling shouldn't be funded in schools and businesses.

For our next debate, I am definitely going to do a bit more research, and have some sort of statistic or quote as part of my speech.
The affirmative team had done a lot of research, and had many figures and percentages, as well as examples. They had so many though that they became lost among all the others.
It will be effective to just have one or two important pieces of information, that stand out, and help to prove your point.

Wining this first debate will help us a lot through the rest of this competition. The next team we verse will hear that we won our first debate, which can be slightly off-putting. Also, it gives us confidence, and the knowledge that we are indeed capable.

I am really looking forward to the next debate; I think we have a chance of winning this whole competition!.

A Visit from the PM

Today, being Wednesday the 4th of June AD 2008, was a very interesting and successful day.
The Prime Minister of our country came to our school. That was truly a once in a life time opportunity.
When I was younger, I used to say that I was going to be the Prime Minister. 'Leader of a country' just seemed like a great career. Oh, and it definitely is, but there's a large amount of time and work involved; an entire life time dedicated to it, in fact. Plus, I've never taken an interest in politics. There are many variables. Your future lies in the hands of public opinion. One rumour, true or false or exaggerated, can ruin your career. It can be a rather, for lack of a better term, sleazy and seedy path at times. Corruption and conspiracies; everyone having a say on everything you do. Don't get me wrong, it sounds like a fascinating career. I mean travel, credibility, the power of influence, not to mention all the people you would meet and experiences you would have.
Anyway, I don't really know where I was going with that, so instead, I'll tell you what happened.
For the most part, the people reading this blog were probably present at the assembly, but I'm still going to tell you all about it.

After a wait of 20 minutes in the auditorium, where one person saying Sshhh would make the entire crowd go silent in a matter of seconds, Helen Clark made her way down the steps to the stage. Following some formalities, she took the podium, and told us how she had enjoyed the tour of the school. Truthfully, even though I was listening avidly, I can't remember exactly what she said at that stage of her speech. However, the talk was mostly comprised of questions and answers, and I do remember those.
The first question that was asked was, Does it ever get boring in parliament?
Not unintelligent, but probably not something I would have asked.
Her answer to that enquiry, like all others, was skillfully diplomatic.
She is an exemplary public speaker. She held attention, was relaxed, clear, and could commendably answer all the questions asked of her.
I asked her a question, which was, What did you study at university?
Her answer was interesting to me. She studied History, English, and German. In her second year she was was introduced to Political Studies, from which she got her Masters.
She didn't behave or speak in a manner that made you feel inferior. She didn't even say to pay attention in school or anything like that.
I learnt that she suffered a collapsed lung when she was six years old, as a result of double pneoumnia. The most interesting person that she has ever met, she said, was Nelson Mandela. She shared some wisdom with us that he had imparted on her, To forgive, but not forget
I hadn't actually realised she was the first ever women elected Prime Minister of our country, which is a rather impressive feat.

I don't know much about politics, but Mrs. Clark came across as a very good, capable, intelligent leader. Running a country must be a hard task. She doesn't get the full credit if something happens in parliament, such as a new law being passed, that is seen as the right choice, but if something is going wrong, as she is the figure head, she will take the immediate blame.
I have a lot of respect towards our Prime Minister.
We were very lucky to have the opportunity we did.

When I grow up

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I have a few ideas, but that's it. I'm in between wanting to be everything and just wanting to stay a kid. But I'm going to have to grow up, and there's nothing I can do about it. In this entry I want to explore two of my potential careers. I'm not looking to decided anything yet, and I know I have a lot of time, but I want to think about it. I'm excited about the future, but also scared as hell. Thank goodness we have three more years of school to go.
Don't hurt me for saying that.

Anyhow, career path number 1: a surgeon
So I stay in school till I'm 18, and then the next year I go to medical school. 6 years for a doctorate in medicine. A few more years for surgery and apprenticeships. I'm about 27 now, and I haven't left school yet. I have a massive student loan. But I love my job, and soon the nice salary is paying off my debt. Ten years gone. I'm a credited surgeon. I move to the U.S. and start work there. Another decade goes by. I am renowned in medical circles and am head of department. I've held a heart in my hands. I've saved lives. I've been involved in deaths. I've seen tragedy and trauma. I retire, and become a professor at a university. I write a few books; see my name in print.

There are many positives things about a life of a surgeon. For a long time I was sure I wanted to bee. A cardio surgeon, that is. But now I've really started thinking about it, I've been asking myself questions. Do I really want to spend all that time in school? I don't have a clue to what the career is really like. What if I spend all that time in school then don't even like it? What if I'm thirty with no job and a huge loan?
It does offer a lot, but there are draw backs. I know there is no perfect job, but is this one for me?

Option number 2: high school teacher
I've always wondered why people become teachers. In that career you never leave school. Lately, though, I've been thinking maybe it wouldn't be to bad. A career of giving new generations knowledge. Having a position to influence their lives and views. Could I stand people who didn't try, though? Would I be to strict, and push them to hard? And, what would I do to those people who chose to smoke in the corner of the field, or just not do their work?

There is nothing wrong with being a teacher. It's a great career. I could be the teacher that made people like school, whose classes kids looked forward to. But would it be enough? I've always aimed high, and is that high enough? I know you get good holidays, but seeing all the young people with their whole lives ahead, would I regret my decision?

Stay tuned to find out about my other potential futures. But for now I am going to stay in school, keep trying hard, and resist a life of crime.
Ciao.

Babysitting

Last weekend was very productive. On Saturday night, at 7 o'clock, I had my first proper babysitting job. For the last two months or so I have been advertising in the district's local magazine, as well in the two local primary school newsletters.
I was a little nervous before the job. I was also quite scared. What if they were weirdos, or murderers? What if the place was burgled? What if the call was coming from inside the house?
But everything turned out fine, great, in fact.

I arrived a little early, and was shown around their house. It was a very nice house; high ceilings, good views, tasteful furniture, and a huge T.V.. The little kids were named Sophie and Kaio, and they were super- cool and fun. It was a tad awkward at first, sitting on the couch watching Dunsten Checks In, on Disney. Soon enough, though, we began asking one another questions, and they started telling me about all the other babysitters the had had. After the movie we played hide and seek. It was very enjoyable for them and me.

There are a few things about babysitting that really appeal to me. The prospect of growing up frightens me a fair bit, so it's such a relief to be able to forget that for a while, and indulge yourself. You can forget about exams or homework, or the fact that you don't know what you want to be when you grow up, and you're nearly half way to thirty. It's a form of temporary escape. I have a good life, and I am very fortunate, but it's pleasant to just remove yourself from that once and a while, you know? You go into another family's home, mind their children; it doesn't necessarily make you appreciate your home more, exactly, but, I don't know how to explain it...it is a break. Things can get rather chaotic around our house, so the quiet and family and household differences can be refreshing.
Also, I don't have the time to work a proper part-time job. It requires a lot of commitment and a many hours. I used to work at Wendy's ice cream parlour; the pay wasn't spectacular, the hours were long and the work was demanding. I have quite a few extra-curricular activities, so the versatile hours of babysitting are perfect for me. It also gives me a couple of quiet hours to study or complete homework, because once the kids are in bed, you don't have much else you can do.
I know it was only my first 'stranger' babysitting job, but I have babysat my little brother many a time, and I believe what I have stated above applies.

So, we watched MTV'S Cribs together, and they told me all about their cousins who had 20 metre indoor pools and a quad-bike each. I took them up to bed at half-nine, but we ended up talking for about 20 minutes. Kaio, 6, dropped off, but me and Sophie, 8, kept talking. That's another thing about looking after children, I find their views on life fascinating, and often adorable. For an 8 year old, she was pretty up to date with pop culture. Though she did have some original ideas on the whole 'emo' thing.
I ended up just dozing on the floor under a blanket until I heard the parent's car in the drive.
I had such a great night. I really, really enjoyed it. Plus I got $35, which isn't taxed.

I had another job on Monday, for just one hour in the afternoon. I met one young boy, Dylan, who has a mild case of autism, but is so cute. He wouldn't come out of his room for he first half an hour, but when I promised not to look at him and he came out to watch the Barbie movie on T.V., he warmed up and was a lovely young lad. He has never been looked after by a stranger before, so there's a strong possibility that I'll become a regular.

The only bad thing about this job is my mum had to drop me off and pick me up, which must be slightly irritating at 11.30 at night.
And I guess that is that, another rather lengthy blog entry. If you haven't given up or passed out from boredom, and have managed to get through the whole thing; well done. Though I would hope that you have better things to do.

Debating Speech

Tomorrow is the first formal debate of the year for me. I am really looking forward to it, our team is prepared, and our argument is sound. It's our first debate of an interschool competition, so it is quite important, and a slightly scary prospect, because we don't know what the standard is and what to expect. We haven't had much experience, especially formally, and it's actually our third speaker's first ever debate. I would really like to get involved in debating more, on a higher level, so all I can do currently is practice and practice, get the experiecne behind me, and deveop my skills.
The moot is: The council should fund recycling in schools and businesses
We are the negative team, and I am the second speaker.
The time limit is 8 minutes, which is a rather long period of time. You get points deducted if you talk for under 7 minutes.
After some research this weekend past, I found out that it's common to rebutt for 3 minutes, and then make your speech for the remaining 5.
Rebuttals are quite a frightening prospect as well, because it is impromptu, and you can only prpare to a very minor extent, because you don't know what they are going to say until they say it.
But it is going to be a lot of fun, and the only way to get better, as I mentioned, is to practice.
This is my speech.

If you were offered free waste disposal would you become more aware of the consequences of your waste, and try to limit it as much as possible, or would you become ignorant, uncaring towards the amount of waste you were producing. If someone else was paying, why bother? it’s not our problem. Our team here believes that that would be the subsequent results of a council funded recycling scheme.

The council should not fund recycling in schools and businesses.
Not funding recycling will encourage, and, to a degree, compel, those organisations to become more environmentally friendly. The moot is not supporting efficient resource use, what it is suggesting would allow schools and businesses to produce as much waste as they pleased, without any consequences for them. Is that sustainable?

On the contrary, if recycling was not funded, and if they have to pay the costs of recycling and waster disposal, we strongly believe that it would make businesses and schools more aware to the costs and penalties of their waste. It would not be supporting corporate responsibility, something that our environment is in dire need of.
Schools and businesses should aim to be limiting their waste altogether, and a fully funded recycling system would not be encouraging that.

If the council wants to promote environment awareness, a compost heap could be easily implemented. Food scraps make up a large amount of waste produced by schools, and would not need to be dealt with by a recycling service. A compost heap would have many benefits, such as a practical education concerning biology, and the soil it produces, which could be used to plant trees. Better yet, it has little to no cost. Environmental awareness does not need to cost, it needs no funding, it only needs effort and initiative.

Technology. It is constantly advancing, replacing systems and methods of the past. Schools and businesses, especially businesses, need to keep up with the latest equipment to ensure survival. Keeping up to date in terms of technology is necessary for a business to ensure their survival. It also helps to certify that they are producing the best product that they can, or offering a top-quality service, whether it be education or other. It’s fair to say that a school without computers, using chalk and black boards and encyclopaedias from 1967 would not be offering the best education, and they would not be a favourable option for students. Technology. How many of you have sent an email today? How many of you have created a report without even putting pen and paper together?

Technology. Computers and email are gradually limiting the use of paper and other sources as it becomes more widely used. Frankly, I think that’s great. Schools and businesses should be using this technology available to them to preserve our district, to keep it clean and green. And as our first speaker, Ashwin mentioned, it has numerous benefits for businesses and every member of the school system. Technology should be used to help our environment, and replace crude and devastating methods of the past. And slowly, it is happening in situations such as schools and businesses. Each year more technology is created, and integrated into these organisations. Thus, limiting their waste, especially of recyclable material such as paper. Instead of wasting money funding a cause that is lessening in logic and necessity each year, why not fund the future?

A council-funded recycling scheme would be supporting ignorance towards waste disposal. If businesses and schools had to go into their own pockets to pay for recycling, it would get them thinking about ways to limit their waste, and eventually compel them to eliminate a need for a service such as recycling in the future. With the incredible possibilities of technology, this is a completely realistic prospect.

I thought we were trying to limit waste. We should be encouraging alternatives and resourcefulness, and trying to limit waste of money and precious resources on the whole.
A recycling service means an increase of rates, or a waste of money that could be used for a more important cause. A more efficient, sustainable cause.

The March

It was weird, because even as we headed down to the event, I wasn't 100 percent sure on what exactly we were going to be doing. My friend, Bobbie-Leigh, had told me it was a march, making a statement against the tabloids. Cool, I had thought, I'm in.
Allow me to explain.

I'm no expert, but, basically, this thirteen year old English girl committed suicide, and the Daily Mail blamed the band My Chemical Romance, calling them a suicide cult. That is completely false. MCR are very against cutting, and at the concert I went to of their's last year, the lead singer had yelled, 'You better have a high opinion of yourself!'
Anyway, a protest was organised to meet outside the Daily Mail in London, England. The fans over here then decided to join forces, and show their support.

My parents had been against me going since the first mention of the event, but using my persuasion skills, I managed to bring them around.
On Saturday the 31st of May at approximately 11.14, Bobbie's car pulled into my drive-way, Francesca in the back seat, I hopped in, and we were off.
45 minutes later, we were at the base of the SkyTower, looking up to its far off look-out like any old tourist. There weren't as many people there as I had anticipated. The twenty or so My Chemical Romance merch-clad people stood together, looking uneasy.
It was slightly off-putting. We made our way over, Erin from Friday Night running to meet us.
Then we commenced to stand around, looking at each other awkwardly, and feeling like idiots.
Sad, but true.
But then, we started to get into it. We had a group meeting and decided that it was stupid to be uncomfortable, and being embarrassed was just a waste of time.
So, we had a sing-a-long. With the help of Frankie's and Erin's pleasant yelling, we were drawn together by the mere fact that we loved MCR, and that we knew all the words to every song.
There we were, singing I'm not okay at the top our lungs, in the middle of a crowded area full of unsuspecting patrons.
People were staring, but we didn't care. We were rebels with a cause.

After we got to know each other a little bit more, and some people had given interviews to a girl who was making a documentary, we were off. It wasn't a proper protest, but boy, was it fun.
This is what we did.
We walked along to this intersection. It had no crossings, but when the little man went green everyone crossed. There was a big hole in the middle where no one was walking, so we decided to fill that space.
We played Twister.
I played Twister in the middle of a city intersection. I'm sorry, but I am quite proud of that fact. (I don't think there's a law against it.)
We also moshed. We moshed to our own voices in the middle of the street.
It was so fun. Being reckless every once and a while is great. And making a fool out of yourself fairly regularly is good for your health.
We walked up to the music shop Real Groovy, and politely asked if they would play a My Chem song so that we could mosh in the middle of the shop. Sadly, that wasn't possibe.
We then nicely asked if we could borrow their stage for just five minutes. We wanted to have a air-guitar competition.
With the security guard standing by, we loudly sang My Chem songs as people played imaginary guitars on the stage. It was so much fun, for lack of a better word.
Standing up there, being an idiot; pretending to be a rock star. People singing to you lyrics you knew all too well, and going a little crazy. Ah, good times. At the end of my little, um, performance, I raised my hands, and said, 'I'm here all week!'.
The competition was for a Frank Iero doll, which I wanted so badly, but the first girl won it, which was fair.
We were asked to leave after that, which we did, because we were friendly protesters.

On our adventure we also...

Moved all of the My Chemical Romance C.D.'S from the emo/punk section in JBHIFI, to the 'hard rock' section. Frankie put a sign up that said, 'MCR ARE NOT EMO!', but the shop assistant removed it when he was taking all the records back to the incorrect section.
We all walked into Burger King and one by one ordered pig-fat ice-creams. I threw mine out, though, because it was yuck.

Overall, it was a really great day. I enjoyed just being crazy, having fun, being stared at and not caring. Meeting new people is always exciting, because you can be whoever you want. But it wasn't as awkward as it should have been, a big group of strangers, because we were all connected by a love and a passion for My Chemical Romance, and what they stand for.

Long live MCR.