Thursday 28 April 2011

Counting stretch marks.

Was looking through photos and felt like posting some.






 
I don't know when it happened, but 2010 did a lot of good for me, and for the little human nest of xis and yangs. I think I owe it partly to my employment at possums'. Amidst the chaos of nappies and tantrums, my subconscious must've finally received that soft slap you need now and again, and realised the lack of time we actually have, that the first few years are so precious. The more time that goes fluttering by, the further we seem to drift, as though time and distance share a hip bone and can't be disconnected. I felt like I had already lost so much. Like watching your possessions become puffs of smoke, and you're exasperated, without control, grasping at nothingness and for once, effort had no area for application here, it was all disappearing. I had been too dazzled by the maze of finding pieces of myself to realise the conveyor belt carrying those temporary moments had zoomed past. In my moment of realisation, in my haste, I suddenly began to grab all the luggage, I flung it all into twenty three trolleys, tied them together and pushed them home. My mother was shocked but subtly pleased. I learnt to embrace and understand the lady in her bright pink G star hoodie, I learnt to have conversations with the man who I inherited my baby loving genes from, and I learnt to be kinder to my sibling, because it can't be taken for granted that forgiveness will always be there. It's strange to attach a conscious effort to family, it's strange to think that one day I must detach myself in a way that signifies it's my turn. So, so strange. People hang these words on their mouths like tags on a collar, they say we should appreciate this and make the most of that, to be generous and forgiving, to be there for eachother..so on so forth, but who actually does anything?! Have you really tried? I didn't until we found a way to apologise to eachother, and we never let little things get past, instead we'd argue and we'd get upset and we'd apologise and we'd forgive, and we'd function and move forward. We released what needed to be released. We swapped our confusion for an empty window; we let all the horrible things fall into the hole and we kept the smiles. I don't think enough people try hard enough when it comes to family, perhaps cause we're still a tad delusional and glued in our teenage years of rebellion and the mentality that there's always more time, but we're throwing whole calendars away and we need to realise. We need to start saying 'sorry' and having meals together and just spending those extra minutes together because before you know it, life will pick you up and toss you all over the world. We'll find priorities that haven't sprouted yet and all this will become that fuzzy creature that coughs now and again to call your attention. I refuse the bitter aftertaste of regret.

Which book?!

I was so entertained by this I thought I should share:

Ange: What's the name of that holy book?
Me: Um, the bible..?
Ange: What the hell, no!
Me: I don't know.
Ange: Aah, that's right, TREE OF CODES.
Me: Huh?!?!?!..ohhhhh you meant HOLEYYYYY.

                                                                              
                                                                                
          VS           
hahahhaahhahahahahahaahahaahahhahahhahahahahahhahahahahahahahha.

30 days, 30 posts.

These things are like the slightly more developed versions of bebo quizzes and don't lead to my lack of answers cause the questions are all revolved around my totally existent love life. Going to begin on the 1st MAY because matching numbers are cool, except can someone purple please explain what a 'female group' is? My train of thought arrived at mobs of angry feminists but I don't think that's what it's referring to. Anywhoha, stole this off a special blog. 66&, let's do zissss!

Actually, now I'm hestitant. The first one is hard, I skip, yahhh?! Maybe not. I'm going to learn the art of persistance, /triumphant fist.

Day 1: 5 interesting facts about yourself.
Day 2: The meaning behind your name.
Day 3: About your friends.
Day 4: About your family.
Day 5: A photo of something you really hate.
Day 6: A song that makes you cry.
Day 7: Your crush.
Day 8: Something you hate about yourself.
Day 9: Your definition of love.
Day 10: Your best friend.
Day 11: A letter to one of your exes.
Day 12: Your favorite female group.
Day 13: Your least favorite female group.
Day 14: Something you love about yourself.
Day 15: What you would do if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant.
Day 16: A photo that makes you smile.
Day 17: A photo that makes you want to cry.
Day 18: A letter to someone you miss.
Day 19: A habit you wish you didn’t have.
Day 20: A letter to your parents.
Day 21: Short goals you wish to fulfill by the end of the month.
Day 22: Your nicknames & why you have them.
Day 23: What you would find in your bag.
Day 24: A song that makes you smile.
Day 25: How you found out about blogger & why you made one.
Day 26: First 10 songs to play on shuffle on your iPod.
Day 27: Your fashion style.
Day 28: What attracts you to someone.
Day 29: Future plans/goals.
Day 30: Who are you?

It's like a themed blog (three quarters of a) month! I love themes! Yay!

Also, I decided on a font change, so I had to go back and edit all my other ones. Oh consistency, you kill me. Anyway, I'm not a fan of your limited choices, blogger. Georgia is a bit of a stretch for me, but better than helvetica which seems to arouse fond feelings all round; I'll never learn why. Georgia's so round, and like the nearly two year old at childcare, she is bundles of adorableness so this is my justification. THE BEST AMONG THE SHIT. Hey I'm really getting used to this, Times new roman is such a mindblock and way too Microsoft Word 2000. Okay, boybye!

p.s VEEVEE&: fudge sticks, upon reexamining this stupid spot to blog, I realise I look like internet you cause you use georgia. Kay, I shall find a solution by learning how to alter codes and making my own FONT oh yes. Also, why is this so spiky looking?!

Wednesday 27 April 2011

Hammering hearts.

My happy return to coffee rose as fast as it fell to a very dark place. I can't drink coffee without these bloody tremors. Lying here and I can hear my heart which I thought was the music; the bedsheets are pumping as fast as my distressed heart. Sounds like the bass to very hardcore music, now I'm imagining those men who drive harleys using hammers to beat drums made of metal and bones. Oh screw my body for ruining this for me. I bid thee adieu, hazelnut latte. :(

Illuminated.


"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.

Why is it so much easier being sad, as though happinness is sand and sadness is water, and you grasp the sand but it falls away and flies everywhere, when you walk, the wind blows and your skin feels like it's being pierced by a million tiny, sharpened pencils and it hurts. But this still brings you some kind of joy because you see it and feel it and know it exists even if you can't have it. Water feels like your second skin, you splash and play and the water is so fluid, sheets of it all over you, you're covered and overwhelmed by it so easily, as though sadness melted and wouldn't stop hugging you. You almost forget to shed yourself of this until you realise the water doesn't dry, you stand before gigantic fans and burn under the sun, you scratch your limbs until they burst with blood, and with rough skin under your nails, you watch yourself, so hopelessly covered in water that sticks like jelly. It tumbles in laughter as you try to consume it but it consumes you instead. You stop thrashing wildly and you feed it instead, it grows as a part of you because you know no other way, you enjoy the inevitable and let go of the struggle of holding sand in your bare palms.

No friends with fullstops!

What are the chances of you guarding your house like the weeds in your front yard (PERSISTENTLY AND UNSTOPPABLE), stretching your ears open and shushing at everyone, squatting in the lounge room and mwahahaha-ing to yourself only to wait for the arrival of your new F.R.I.E.N.D.S BOX SET?! In the times you're absent, you rely on your lazy parent to be loyal to laziness and reside in her space of comfort - the sofa. She doesn't ever leave but today she does, we don't know where, the no. of missed calls are just about identical to her phone number but the situation is saved, fahzah is home today. I am on a bus (as per always) and my body is nodding to sleep and my head hurts from knocking the window sill (or whatever it's called) of the bus, but my brain is still talking to me, it won't shut up.

'WHEN WILL IT ARRIVE? HOW WILL YOU ENSURE SOMEONE IS HOME? WHAT IF YOU MISS IT BY 1 MINUTE BECAUSE LIFE THINKS PRACTICAL JOKES ARE HILARIOUS? WHAT IF THE POSTMAN STEALS IT? WHAT IF YOU FALL ASLEEP AND NEVER GET HOME? YOU MUST TIME EVERYTHING PERFECT SO THE AMOUNT OF TIME THE HOUSE IS HELD ABSENT IS LOWERED TO AN ABSOLUTE MINIMUM.

So I continue bumping my head, my bus driver is a glorious maniac and speed  limits are invisible. We're arriving soon. I time my call so fahzah arrives at the perfect time to pick me up from ze bus stop. Things are perfect, timing is good. I arrive at my home, the world is nice today. There is a wedge of paper stuck in the gate. OH DON'T YOU DARE. Oh shittake, you dared. Piece of paper tells me to pick up the best thing ever TOMORROW. It arrived within the only 5 minutes someone was absent from the house. World crumples/so dramatic/pain and BLERDUH (youtube vid of that kid, remember?!yes?!). FAHZAH you're ALWAYS LATE, why were you on time today?! NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, ohmygodzilla. Screw internet shopping and paying my liver's worth in shipping fees and still having to go through all this trauma and complication and inconvenience and I JUST WANT F.R.I.E.N.D.S, OKAY?!?!?!?!?! (Read that whatever way you like, it all works).

BADbye. I'm going to sulk somewhere with a rainy cloud over my head.

Tuesday 26 April 2011

Eye love eye balls.

Addiction to eyeballs, they be fascinating. This so cool, heeeee hooooo breatheeeeee. For someone who accessorises as often as I like people, I never find jewellery that I HAVE TO HAVE. But this is like naked lesbians for men, or bubbles for spongebob or EYEBALL JEWELLERY for me. You can get them in blue or grey, I think grey. They also have earring and ring versions, omg.

Okay so I just clicked the 'proceed to checkout' button and what do they tell me?!
'We ship to USA and Canada.'

YEAH WELL SUCKOTASH MY COCKERSPANIEL, YOU FUDGING CREVASSE HOLE. I hate you Australia and USA and Canada. You all suck, I'M SO ANGRY AND SAD, I'M ANGRAD OR SANGRY OR I DON'T EVEN KNOW. OHHHHH WORLD, HOW YOU DISAPOINT ME :(

Monday 25 April 2011

Bye bye now.

After a rather unsatisfying holiday only redeemed by the abundance of entertaining jumping photos, I'm so glad to be home. Deceiving photo: I'm so happy and carefree and love nature.

“ Sometimes skulls are thick. Sometimes hearts are vacant. Sometimes words don’t work. ”
- James Frey, A Million Little Pieces

Why does it seem that sometime is all the time.
Feeling rather miserable for no particular reason, it makes me wonder when I switched from always happy to always angry permanently, initially I thought it was a mood swing but it just never left and now I'm always angry, always always always. They always say you're as petty as the petty things you get angry about but anger is an easy way to function. "One cries because one is sad. For example, I cry because others are stupid, and that makes me sad." (Sheldon) Not even stupid, but just so clueless and SHIITake mushrooms. Why do people pretend to love things? Why do people pretend to like other people? Why do people pretend to be things they're not?

When are you going to realise filling yourself with useless information about other people doesn’t make you any less empty? You only become less interesting for not having anything of your own, the things that belong to you because you felt it and you created it and you chose for it to become a part of you, THESE ARE WHAT REALLY MATTER. But instead you choose to become a container; a collection of other people’s things and that container by nature, has always been the disposable kind, waiting for its edges to become flimsy and its cores to rot and grow mould, waiting for someone to finally realise and toss it all in the bin.

You tell me all these facts and figures and everyone you know or have heard of, you call your friend. They’re not, you know they're not, or maybe you don't, I don't know, just STOP. Stop loving or hating everything when you don't even know them, stop pretending to know everything, stop telling me everything you've ever heard happened to a friend of a friend of a friend of a ....I'm tired. You see, the problem is it’s tedious, I don't even understand how much you’re saying is yours and how you can possibly have so many 'favourites' when a favourite is an entity from the rest, or should be anyway. You’re like every essay you’ve ever written, you copy and paste, copy and paste, COPY AND PASTE and once your conclusion is written, you proudly nod and tell me “look at my essay”. THAT’S NOT YOUR BLOODY ESSAY. WHY CAN’T YOU SEE IT?

Why does everything bother me when it's not even of importance to me, at all? Everything you say offends me. It's like when I try to describe why and what something means to me and people say "Oh yeah I LOVE THAT, it's my FAVOURITE" but they don't and it's not. I don't even know how to contain my rage in that split moment, and there's so much I want to scream but they just won't understand so I can't, so I swallow and turn away. It's so demeaning. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, okay enough.

tata.

ALSO, PHUCK YOU EASTER FOR SCREWING UP MY DIARY.
Whoever invented pens sucks bouncy balls, pencils are good :(


Thursday 21 April 2011

Don't question my music taste.

I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY
YEAH I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY

If it weren't for silent disco, I would've forgotten how much I love-a-dove this song.
Of the many reasons this is a gooood song, this line is just gold - 'Man I feel like mold'. Stupid lyrics are so entertaining, I love I love I love. If air guitaring and using your toothbrush as a microphone are regarded as usually lame, it's excused for this song.

Now I can't stop listening to the cheesiest of the 90s. Hello Spice girls, someone give her a bra QUICK.

Jurassic Lounge.

I never imagined myself to be the type of girl who dyes my hair flaming red, plays with gigantic stick insects, gets excited by fake dinosaurs and would grow fond of the creepy art known as taxidermy, but you never know. Okay so I didn't actually dye my hair, boooo, but I did the rest :) It was a tuesday night and a few children decided to enjoy a night at the Australian Museum cause we were bored and had $15 to spare.

Photos, of course.
Stole some photos off Zik because he has skills and some of mine which I have deceivingly mingled in amongst the better photos so you can't tell whose are whose...

Omgah, stick insect.
Silent Disco; dancing to your separate music = NO MORE NOISE POLLUTION. The best, right?!
The bones of a flying fox. Cool, huh?
Death in a jar.
Obvious tough guys
Stuffed koala is less creepy with round faced smiles.
Skull of Yorick and skull of mine.
This buddy just won the best smile award.
Makeup artist drawing a masculine eyebrow for me, yummy.
Lord of the flies anyone?! RUN WILD RUN WILD

Random man trying to teach me how to pose. & let's play 'Find-a-Zik'.

Anywhoha, I'm off to pack for my exciting (not really) family friend holiday tomorrow. Beaches and holiday houses = YES. Goodbadbye my chirpy chipmunks.

gersikakakakah


Tuesday 19 April 2011

GIVE ME SUN PLEASE.

Every time I tick off my 6:45-2:45 shift, I genuinely think it'll be okay. ONLY 5am wake up time right?! Well I can't, I crave the damn sun and the bus is so full it leads me to question if this is because all these hills folk need to get somewhere by 10am but hillsbus has left them with no other SUNSHINE & WARMTH-FILLED choice. Bed, I just want to go back to you. I bet they're are animals still asleep right now & animals always seem to have the earliest wake up times but NO, that's me now...maybe owls are still up hooting and hunting cause I think it's still freaking' night time.

Hey look, the sun is rising. If I weren't too busy blowing hot air down my jumper and rubbing my legs, I'd enjoy that scene. Soooo not a stupid morning person, I think morning people are very chirpy and bursting of energy when they get up, I feel like clubbing someone cause I feel like dancin' woohoo, no jokes, if annoying person + club were conveniently located, I'd do it. Oh god why are there all these people? WHERE ARE YOU ALL GOING? GO HOMMMMEEE.

I really wants da sleep.
:( :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

So I just arrived but Noone will be here until 36 minutes later. Anyways I passed a jogging man because that's what the people of lane cove seem to do. JOG AND BICYCLE CAUSE WE HELSY HELSY!! & he said "enjoying your morning run?!" me: "yeah........." maybe it's cause I'm wearing a puma hoodie, tights and runners, kind of, not really. Anyway, I DECEIVED HIM INTO THINKING IM A PERSON WHO DOES MORNING EXERCISE WHEN IN FACT I CAN'T DO EITHER. CELEBRATION TIME COME ON! da da da..I think I'm getting frost bite.

Monday 18 April 2011

We love our bread, we love our money.

Watching the bread machine is so entertaining, I could do this all day. My favourite part is when the dough becomes a perfect ball and rolls around and around and around. This is my 3rd loaf in 2 days, Buddha Baker is back, my friends.

I think if you don't already have a bread machine, you should invest in one. As good as a computer, almost (not really). The bread is fracking perfect, and the house smells like it for hours. They should make a bread perfume. It tastes good too (that's right Helgas, move along to loserville), not that I can taste anything besides phlegm. Sorry, I'm disgusting.

Blogspot makes me feel like I write too much useless crap which admittedly I do, but I swear on Xanga it never looked excessive. So I figure I'm going to be a short AND long post person, I'm totally capable. This will be my first and shortest post in the history of Jessica Xi. For some reason I felt vulnerable publishing my real name just then, even if the few people who read this must surely know my real name. Okay, see the rambling? I can't stop it. I wouldn't know quality if it ran me over in the form of a lottery truck. Who am I kidding? Asian + money = happinness.

Posting a consecutive post 18 minutes after the previous doesn't mean I have no life, it means..something else. Kay kids I'm off to plan exciting things tonight, where can I buy a dinosaur costume?

latergator.


Consulting Dr. Google

So last night while being bed ridden cause I'm as sick as a Chinese Maccas ad (So you're watching tv or telly, as us true aussies call it, and there are these adorable little, fluffy chicks running around and you just want to adopt them all and call yourself Mother Clucky Hen but the next screen folds over and it shows kids biting into nuggets. Like fml, what kind of advertising is this? Talk about Oops-I-didn't-think-this-through moments. Pet or snack, you decide. Sick, isn't it?! Actually the whole Chinese marketing industry just kind sucks, KINDA.) ...where was my original sentence, the insert was too long... Okay I got it. Well, about a bazillion blog ideas came to me and I felt so bloody enlightened and happy cause it was one of those moments where you can transform what is intangible and in your mind, to something as coloured text which you can share and come back to cause it's solid. But alas, no. I was too lazy (SICK) to get up and write any of it down, what a waste of brain juices. Far out, brussel sprout.





Anyways, I thought it would be nice morning conversation to discuss what's wrong with my body:

Fever has transformed into a cold, thank googly god.
Bleeding ear which I'm hoping is a minor infection or something..
Period pain and cramps, what a party.
Yesterday I was vomiting bile (I googled to find the term and to my horror), Bile is a composition of: water (85%), bile salts (10%), mucus and pigments (3%), fats (1%), inorganic salts (0.7%) and cholesterin (0.3%).

Main causes of vomiting bile:
Intestinal blockage    - this can sometimes lead to 'fecal vomiting' omg ew..
Gall bladder surgery  - WHAT?
Alcohol intolerance   -  Irrelevant, beyond irrelevant.

I kept on clicking the blue words on wikipedia...
It may lead to metabolic acidosis which is a condition that occurs when the body produces too much acid or when the kidneys are not removing enough acid from the body. If unchecked, metabolic acidosis leads to acidemia, due to increased production of hydrogen by the body or the inability of the body to form bicarbonate in the kidney. Its causes are diverse, and its consequences can be serious, including coma and death.


(I only read the bolded words which is sufficient methinks.)
OHMYDEATHBED, I'm exactly like Mother Clucky Hen, stuffed with disease and despair, about to die and going to be deep fried and seasoned for all you chicken lovers. I haven't even met my chicks who are probably nuggets smothered in sweet chilli sauce already, someone help me.

Okay, I need to get away from the computer, byebyeboooo.

P.S if you're really bored like me, click http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20110130143310AA4wqOA Everytime I feel stupid, I got to yahoo questions to see people who are more stupid, gosh it's entertaining.

Friday 15 April 2011

MURDERER.

See what I've done?! I always knew it was going to happen one day but I never let it, cause it scared me because I can't lose the internet version of myself and go dilly dally-ing with some other trendy blog dude. Xanga and I had something you see but not anymore, things got ugly, literally ugly. (Seriously, go check) So now, I'm just kinda screwed and I'm here because I murdered my xanga. Don't even, I'm not a horrible person, just misunderstood...HAH. Okay. 

Hi blogspot. 

You're confusing to use and are you BLOGGER or BLOGSPOT? Make up your mind, Xanga didn't go around sporting double identities. Sorry, I'm going to stop comparing, that's not fair to you. No actually screw that, you suck it up. "You suck those tears up!" Kevjumba hehehe.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, this space is going to be no different to my xanga except that I won't put a gigantic picture of my head on the top and things will be neater looking, I hope. & it took me a billion years deciding on a blog title so if you don't get the one I've chosen, go away. Though I realise only one person probably does, that makes me very sad. Anyways, yay excitement not really.

People always like to introduce themselves again when making a new blog but I don't think I can be bothered. "My life story is the stories of everyone I've ever met" (Foer) so yeah basically, not much to tell. I've been uneventful for 18 years but that's okay. What do I do with my life? Um let's see. I study Bcom in Services Marketing with Tourism & Hospitality at UNSW/real name - FOBBYSTAIRSLAND. I study Cert 3 in Children's Services at OTEN because I love Possums' Corner Child Care Centre which is where I work and love and play and if given a choice, wouldn't mind making it my permanent location of residence. Also work at Eddie Bennett Stocktaking company where I get to count stuff and sit on cars for extended periods of time until I can't feel my body neck down. Also bringing in the kaching from a recent addition, everyone welcome Longchamp, not really. I don't like her, but that's me for you. I do things I don't like because I don't like very much.

So that's what I do. Any unused time is spent on Big Bang Theory, Glee, Modern Family, House and F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Youtube and stalking people's blogs where they ramble the vomit out of their brains. & I also play with the few friends I have, quality guys, quality. (smilies)

I really wanted my first blog to about things other than a poor introduction of myself but I guess I'm all for tradition, speaking of which, I want a nice traditional wedding but not in a church cause I'm not religious and not in a slaughterhouse cause I don't eat meat and not in an airport cause I hate fobs and not in a UNI cause I don't want to be near a place that promotes STATS. I also realise I probably didn't want the first word I wrote on my new blog to be 'murderer', but I'll cope. Another thing probably worth mentioning is that my online self sounds a lot angrier and like the kind of person who stabs baby seals while dancing in a sunflower garden. Solly Dolly.

Okay, I'm off to complete shitty groupwork and listen to 'Winter song' (Sara Bareilles/Ingrid Michaelson) repeatedly, read Jonathan Safran Foer quotes and drink earl grey.

Bye children.