The World Of Jadeey

It really annoys me that I can think of so much to write about when I'm nowhere near my computer but as soon as I'm sitting in front of the keyboard my mind goes blank.

I have a list of other things that annoy me but just as I was about to start listing them I changed my mind and decided not to. Partly because some of those things are done by people who read here and partly because I like to leave everyone with the belief that I don't get annoyed by people very easily. :P

There are things we do in life that are stupid. In my life there are a lot of these things.

Often I have the feeling that I am waiting for something even though I don't know what that something is. It annoys me because sometimes I think to myself that at least it's almost the end of the week/month/year. I think that way because of this overwhelming feeling of waiting for something. I'm glad it's nearly the end of the week/month/year because it's closer to what I'm waiting for. The problem is that because I don't actually know what I'm waiting for I could be waiting for absolutely bloody nothing. Not only that but I'm wishing my life away while waiting for potentially nothing.

My flatmate is currently filing. I don't really understand this since I don't bother keeping stuff so have no need to file. I'm glad too, it looks very boring!

Me and my flatmate were talking last night about what we like in men. A very important thing for both of us is someone we can carry out an intelligent conversation with. I couldn't be with someone who's conversational skills only stretched as far as talking about the immediate things happening around them. I want someone who is interested in a broad range of topics and is intelligent enough to carry out a proper conversation about them. I like to talk (I know, I know, that's painfully obvious) and I want someone who likes to talk back. Heh so I guess I'm not keen on the strong, silent type!

Don't you hate it when you are telling someone a story and they completely miss the point, focussing instead on some insignificant detail. It always throws me into a fit of self-doubt. Did I tell the story wrong somehow? Am I the one focussing on the weird detail? Is there something wrong with me? Do I look fat in this outfit? (That one always gets in there no matter what my self-doubt was initially about. Same with every girl)

Holly: So I was walking along, minding my own business...
Friend: What were you wearing?
Holly: Huh? Oh. My white shirt I think. So anyway...
Friend: Your white shirt!?!
Holly: (impatiently) Yes. And suddenly the elephant sits on me!
Friend: And you were wearing a white shirt?
Holly: Yes. But that's not really the important part. The important part is that an elephant sat on me. And I lived to tell the tale.
Friend: Yeah. You didn't really deserve to live after wearing a white shirt did you?
Holly: Okay clearly I committed a major fashion faux pax with my white shirt wearing, but can you please focus.
Friend: Oh I'm plenty focussed. Faux pax is an understatement you know.
Holly: Whatever. I'll tell someone else.

Now, clearly this is a fake story fabricated to illustrate my point. Obviously I'd never wear a white shirt. Geez, who do you think I am!

I do seem to have conversations often where someone will miss the entire point of my story. This either means I tell stories to stupid people a lot or I am utterly useless at telling stories. It's always disappointing when it happens. It makes me want to reiterate the point I was actually trying to make but then I just feel like I'm repeating myself.

I don't have very many stories anymore. The ones I do have all seem to either revolve around work or certain males who shall remain nameless. I used to have lots and lots of stories but recently my world, and my focus, has narrowed and with that narrowing my stories have diminished.

There is of course the really big story of the guy who broke into my house but other than that there isn't a lot. Whenever I'm working to or from work I think of many things to blog about. Unfortunately by the time I get near my computer they have fled my mind again.

I'm watching Love Actually at the moment. Such a great film and one I could watch a million times without getting sick of. I like that some of the stories are left with ambiguous endings, like the Emma Thompson/Alan Rickman story. It is really up to the viewer to decide whether they are still together at the end of the film or not.

Watching their part of the story makes me think about this assignment I did in psyc many years ago. It was about how marriage and (western) society's views on marriage have changed over the years. We (group assignment) specifically focused on how it is important to give up that bad relationship rather than just sticking it out for the sake of it.

The media often make commentary on mental health and try to tell everyone that our society's mental health is in decline. We stated that this is not true at all. Mental health issues are more readily accepted these days and people are more willing to ask for help when they have mental health issues. We hypothesised that the mental health of our society is actually getting better rather than worse. We went on to theorise that one of the reasons for this is that divorce is an acceptable solution to an unhealthy relationship. While you shouldn't give up on a marriage too easily, and while it does take work, if it really is no longer working then you are free to walk away where once you wouldn't have been. People change and that is now accepted by society. The person we were at age 20 is not necessarily the same person we are at age 30. It just makes sense that sometimes we grow apart from our partner, particularly when we have met and married them young.

Heh we included a questionnaire filled with questions you should ask yourself if you think you might be in an unhealthy relationship. (I will refrain from posting those questions here, don't worry!) We got an A for the assignment which was nice and is probably why I remember it so well.

I really miss uni sometimes, other times I don't at all. I did like learning new things though, and researching things. I loved that work wasn't the only thing I had in my life. I could escape work and just go to class, it was a simpler time! :P

Guess what woke me up this morning.... Go on guess...

You can't guess? Okay I guess I'll have to tell you.

I was sleeping, happily oblivious to the world around me. It was only 9.30am in the morning, I'm working nights at the moment so have been going to bed very late and getting up late the next day. I probably had about another 2 hours sleep left in me before I would have woken up.

I half woke up when I heard someone knocking at the door. Being that no-one I know would turn up without invitation, or if they did they would at least txt me to ask me why I wasn't answering the door, I ignored it. It went on for ages and I thought maybe it was the landlord or possibly even someone next door. Basically I was very sleepy and didn't want to get out of bed or even fully wake up for whoever it was knocking so continued to ignore it.

I was suddenly fully awake a few moments later when whoever it was started knocking at my window. I have this thing where I don't like to answer the door in my pj's so, unless I know why the person is there, I will pretend I'm not home rather than answer the door. Because of this I didn't open my curtain to see who was knocking but I lay very still (and very awake) listening to see what was going on and still pretending I wasn't home. (While I thought it was odd, I was still thinking along innocent lines rather than being convinced it was a break-in.

I couldn't lie still for much longer though because after knocking on my door and window the guy decided no-one was home (ah I must be a very good pretender!) and proceeded to kick my front door in. (here is a photo of what he did to our door)





I walked (ran) into my lounge at the same moment he got the door open. He saw me, I yelled "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" (or words to that effect) in my best angry voice and he took off. The police turned up pretty promptly when I called them but there wasn't a lot they could do since he didn't leave any finger prints and I didn't see the car.

Fucking scary though! I'm actually just glad I left it to the point where he was breaking in and I scared him. Otherwise he probably would have made some excuse as to why he was knocking on our door and then come back and ripped us off later. At least this way it's doubtful he'll be back.

What was my flatmate doing through all of this? She was sleeping... :) She had heard him breaking the door down but thought it was the pipes being noisy. (To be fair to her our pipes ARE very noisy and I was probably a lot more awake and aware of what was going on since he'd knocked on my window.) When I yelled she thought I was yelling at her and telling her off for making a noise. (I find that particularly amusing, as will anyone who knows me, since I never really get angry and even if she had been making a noise I wouldn't have yelled at her like that about it!)

The moral of the story? Don't sleep naked. I don't, but if I had been then it would have been a lot harder for me to have run out of my room and confronted the guy. The other moral of the story? Don't wait until something happens to recheck all of your security procedures. Our landlord is currently putting in security doors, we are getting a proper monitored alarm installed, checking our insurance details are all up to date etc. But, it shouldn't have taken an actual intruder to do this! Thank god we were home and he didn't steal anything... At least we are learning from our mistakes and we didn't have to face any serious consequences.

So yeah, dramas at my house this morning! I have a head-ache. I'm going to stop writing now.

Labels: burglers

I can handle anything

I'm not sure if this happens to everyone or just me (I do have my suspicions that it's just me) but sometimes I like one line of a song so much that I can't stop listening to it. Not the whole song, just that one line. I'll start a song from the beginning and as soon as I get past the line I like I'll hit back and start it again. This process can repeat for my entire journey to wherever I'm going.

Yeah, yeah I know what you're all saying right now. You are crazy Holly, that's a very odd thing to do. My response to that? Well of course I'm crazy, I think that fact was established a very long time ago! I am under no illusions as to my level of crazy.

Do you know what I really hate? STOCKTAKE!!! Yup, I hate, hate, HATE it. It's so fucking retarded and bloody boring to boot. (ha I wonder if the phrase 'to boot' is one of those very British things that means any American readers have no idea what I was just saying. Not sure, it could be American too. I have no fucking clue.)

So, on a Wednesday night I get to work and I start on stocktake. I prepare the count sheets (by prepare I mean print), hand them to my counting boys (by counting boys I mean the two guys I suckered into helping) and enter all of the invoices (by invoices I mean the fucking shit-load of invoices since we order so much god-damn stock). I then help out with a bit of counting (cups. For some reason counting cups has become my thing. Doesn't make any sense since I hate counting cups) Once counting is done 8 hours has usually passed so it's midnight and home time. I have no idea how that all takes me 8 hours cos on paper it isn't a lot. But it does. So there!

Thursday dawns and I grumpily get out of bed and head down to the hell-hole that is my work. I take the count sheets from the night before and add them up (sometimes I will have done this the night before or got the boys to do it the night before. Other times the count has taken so fucking long I have to add it up on Thursday.) Once they are all added I type it into the computer and get the wastage book. This is when the nightmare really begins. It's such a big site we usually have 2-3 pages of wastage. Two or three PAGES!! It's insane. How the hell do the staff there damage so much stock? How? I'll tell you how. Because they are retarded! They are retarded and stupid and dumb and can't even sell a large drink without dropping the cup on the floor, standing on it, slipping over and banging their head! Ok maybe that doesn't happen EVERY time someone sells a large drink but I bet it has happened!

It is then time to print out a summary of all the variances and start re-counting. (hmm should that be 'recounting'. I don't think so since I actually am counting for a second time not remembering the count from the night before. God help me, I try never to remember the count from the night before so I'm definitely not recounting it. Although I am recounting it right now in the telling of this story. Help! I've gone disastrously off-topic here!)

Anyway my boss is usually on my back by this point demanding the finished stocktake. It's just never gonna happen mate. The place is too huge and stocktake is too stupid for me to have it done that quickly. So he demands it, I hedge, he gets annoyed and sits me down to tell me how important stocktake is, I wonder why if it's so important to get it done quickly he is wasting an hour of my time telling me about its importance, he prattles on some more, I daydream about the day I have a job that doesn't include stocktake, he tells me how wonderful he is at stocktake, I think to myself 'THEN GO AND FUCKING DO IT YOUR FUCKING SELF!!!) I kid you not - this is a regular Thursday occurrence now. I can't even count (gah! Counting!) the number of conversations we have had about the importance of stocktake. And they almost always occur when I could actually be doing fucking stocktake!

If the conversations about the importance of stocktake don't occur when I am actually doing stocktake then they occur when I should be doing the roster which is another god-awful task I have to endure on a weekly basis. Essentially, whenever I have a task that needs to be done to a dead-line I am sat down and told how important deadlines are. I have made my peace with the fact that my supposed 8-hour Monday shift is actually an 11-12 hour Monday shift because of the fucking roster but it is just made longer by these stupid discussions I keep getting subjected to.

I'm certainly under no illusions in this job as to why it is called 'work' and not 'fun time'. Wish it was fun time though. I would like to get paid for fun time. hmmmm does that make it sound a little bit like I want to be a hooker? Cos that's not how I intended it. Ah well.

I've always wondered how hookers can handle their job. I guess it's that whole 'just lie back and think of the mother-land thing.' But seriously, I don't think I could do it. Imagine if the guy was really smelly, or really old, or really hairy, or had really yucky teeth, or any number of other gross things. I'm not sure that the rare time you got the hot, yummy, toned guy would make up for those other times. Because, lets face it, which of the guys I just described is going to be more likely to use a hooker?

If it worked out like in Pretty Woman that would be nice. But I bet that doesn't actually happen in real life. Just like in real life I didn't go to Hogwarts. :(

Which would be better, flying or being invisible? (For the record, no I'm not high or drunk right now. I just thought of it because I mentioned Hogwarts) I think probably I would prefer to be able to fly cos what can you use being invisible for other than spying on people? Not a lot really. And does the invisibility come with silencing as well? Cos if it didn't then being invisible isn't going to help you much in your spying unless you are also really good at being quiet.

But yeah, I think it would get boring pretty quickly just spying on people. It'd make me feel guilty too. And what if you decided to spy on the guy you were interested in and all you witnessed was him burping, farting and scratching his balls? Ok so maybe that would serve you right for spying on him in the first place but, nevertheless, it would be disappointing. It would give you a nice insight into what marriage will be like though. Cos that's pretty much all guys do once they've actually bagged the girl right?

Or what if you decided to walk invisibly around your house and your flatmate/parents/whoever you live with thought you were out so did something thinking they were alone. Like deciding to walk nakedly around your house. Or to have sex on the couch. Or something else you don't want to watch. That's never going to be pleasant. Unless that was your plan in the first place and you wanted them to think you were out while you invisibly watched them. Hopefully that would never be the case if you still lived at home with your parents. And even if you don't, shame on you for (again) using your invisibility for spying.

Flying though? That's a lot more productive. Running late for work? That's okay you can fly there. Big traffic jam? That's okay you can fly over it. Want to take a holiday to America but can't afford it? No problem, just fly yourself!

I think I have adequately proved my point here. Invisible, bad. Flying, good.

I read a book when I was a kid about a rabbit (a talking rabbit who wore clothes so not just a rabbit) who one day while he was out playing discovered that if he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose at the same time he would turn into a rusty nail. Yep, that was his magic trick - turning into a rusty nail. Not just a nail but a rusty nail.

Anyway, he was being chased by someone evil one day (I can't remember whether it was an evil rabbit, a human or what) and realised that he could get away by turning into a rusty nail. So, he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose and turned into a rusty nail. Unfortunately the evil whatever it was saw him disappear and upon investigation of the spot the bunny had been in discovered a rusty old nail. Now, the evil thing was much cleverer than me because he instantly realised that the nail must, of course, be the bunny rabbit. (I on the other hand would never have figured that one out. I would probably have assumed he stood on a mine and was obliterated or something. Guess that wouldn't be in a kids book though.) So, being that he was evil, he took the rusty nail and hammered it into a nearby wall. (no idea where he got the hammer from, maybe he was carrying one around just in case)

It took something like 5 years for the wall the rabbit had been hammered into to be pulled down and for the rabbit to be freed. His mum was very happy when he came home and told her the story. She had been very worried that her son was missing for so many years!

After reading that story I always hoped that one day I would be out playing and discover that if I did two things at once it would do something magical. I really hoped it would be something a little better than turning into a rusty nail though. I mean, lets face it, you may as well not be able to anything magical if all you can do is turn into a rusty nail. That's pretty bloody useless. (It wasn't even useful for the rabbit in the story since he lost 5 years of his life sitting stuck in a wall. I doubt the evil thing was going to kill him so he probably ended up worse off.)

Yeah this post is getting beyond crazy now. I'm going to give up and stop writing now.

Update: I just looked the book up. (It's Solomon the Rusty Nail by the way) Anyway I got it wrong and he didn't rub his tummy and wiggle his nose He actually wiggled his toes and rubbed his nose. Sorry for leading you astray there. Also, the evil thing was a one-eyed cat so maybe he would have been in a little trouble had he not turned into a rusty nail. It's just a pity he didn't choose a more opportune moment rather than while the cat was looking.

I completed my 2nd assignment for my writing course today. Not that exciting really but impressive when you consider that it is a correspondence course that is allowed to take a maximum of four years and I have been doing it for 3 and a half years now. Yes, 3 and a half years and I've only just completed the 2nd assignment. It is quite probable that I will not have time to complete the course but I'm going to give it my best shot.

I've started watching Shortland Street again. But only for the next two weeks cos Craig Parker is on it and I adore him. I had a crush on him for years when he was on Shortland Street the first time around and am watching him again for my twelve year old self who never missed an episode while he was on it. It helps that he's still very nice to look at too!!

I was thinking about my car tonight. I want to go to Australia and I thought my mum would buy my car so I could buy it back when I get back but she said no. This made me sad and is almost enough to make me not want to go. I adore my car way too much to give it up. When I was telling her this Kat asked me if I had named my car. I said that I haven't (which is true, I haven't). She has now suggested I name my car Ahmed. She is extremely excited by this idea and I have got to say that it is growing on me.

I really should be going to bed. The end of my two days off has come and I have work early in the morning. I REALLY don't want to go back. Not because I hate my job but just because I don't want to go back. I don't like it anywhere near enough to get excited about going back there.

I was talking to my parents the other day and they asked when I would have some time to come to Wellington for a visit. I had to admit the truth to them, I won't be coming back for a visit. I can't. I want to but I can't. If I go back then I won't be able to come back to Auckland. Oh, I'd come back to hand in my resignation and pack my things but I wouldn't be able to come back and stay.

I have a friend who currently lives in America. He comes home a couple of times a year when he's being doing some work in Australia. I honestly don't know how he goes back to America each time. I don't think I could do it. But then again, maybe he's happier over there and, of course, there are some significant things that make going back worth it to him.

It might sound odd to those of you reading about how homesick I am that I could possibly be considering going to Australia rather than going home to Wellington. But the thing is, as I've said, once I go back to Wellington I think it will be a long time before I can convince myself to leave again and I need to. I feel an overwhelming urge to push myself that little bit further out of my comfort zone. I need this if I'm ever going to make anything of my life. So that's why I want to go to Australia. Then, once I'm done there I can go home and stay home. I can take comfort in the fact that I pushed myself, that I did what I wanted to do and I didn't let being scared as fuck stop me.

I just hope I can find the strength within myself to do it.

I look at my life and see at as the lack of you in it. I see my ugliness and weakness. I see my shaking, nervous, inadequate self. I want those moments I once had when I was not inadequate, when I was good enough for you. I want to be back in your arms. I want to know how you feel and I want that to be as I do. I want all this shit to be over.


I wrote this over 18 months ago about someone else (although the relationship with that someone else ended 18 months before I wrote it and I finally got over it about 3 months later so maybe there's hope yet). It is appropriate again. Anyone else see a pattern emerging cos I certainly do. I hate that I continuously make the same mistakes and end up feeling the same way over and over but it just can't help it. I don't know. I don't know how to stop making this mistake. I don't know how to make him love me.

Why do I love you so much? I would give the world for you to love me back. Even just a little bit.

- Also written 18 months ago. Also fits now. :(

I have two days off in a row. For me, since I've been in Auckland, this is a miracle. In fact, I've been in Auckland since January and this is the first time I've had two days off in a row.

Work is... Interesting. It's swings and roundabouts for me there. Sometimes I have awful days where it's all I can do not to walk out and never come back. Other days it's great and I wonder how I can possibly even consider leaving.

I'm going to be trying to get back into the habit of updating here regularly. I want to be a writer and the only way to get better at it is to do it. Despite how tired I am after work I need to never let myself forget that writing is my ultimate goal and everything I do should be working towards that. Hence, there will hopefully be far more regular posts from me.

I really want to know why Aucklanders are such pushy, arrogant jerks. Do they think that just because they live in the biggest city in the country they are better than the rest of us? Because, I'm here to tell you that Auckland may be the biggest city in the country but it's far from the best. It's also nothing compared to hundreds of cities around the world. So, no, being from Auckland doesn't make you better than everyone else.

People here seem to relish in other people's unease. I should stop right now and point out that I am generalising atrociously, the majority of people I have met are just as lovely as the people I've met all my life. The problem does not lie with these people in Auckland but with the enormous number of people that are not lovely and that are actually downright rude. Actually, there's a thought, there are more people in Auckland so it stands to reason that I would encounter more horrible ones. There could, in fact, be the same percentage of horrible people here as everywhere else. Food for thought anyway.

Still, I will continue with my thought process because I am not certain my percentage argument as right. And, let's face it, I have nothing else to do right now.

Where was I? Right. People here relishing in other people's unease. Being that work is the only real place I've spent any time my experiences of Auckland are mainly what I have experienced there. The customers who come in are a hundred times worse than the customers we had in Wellington. In Wellington an angry customer would generally ask for the duty manager and rip into them rather than ripping into the 16 year old serving them. Up here though? We have had so many customers treating our staff badly and some very distraught cinema attendants have resulted. I really don't like it. I don't think customers should be yelling at anyone anyway but to yell at kids? What the hell gives them the right? Get a fucking life, it doesn't make you a big man to make a kid cry. I don't honestly see how that even makes someone feel good. It would make me feel awful.

Even when I've had shocking service somewhere I tend to say thank you. It's been ingrained in me since I was a kid to be polite and I generally find I can't be impolite even when I want to be. Besides, I don't really care. If the person doesn't enjoy their job that's their deal, I'm not going to go out of my way to make it worse for them.

Maybe it has something to do with money. Without question there is more money in Auckland than there is in Wellington. The richer someone is the nastier someone is? Again this is a gross generalisation as there are some wonderful, caring, kind people with money. My parents to name just two. Money quite possibly is the answer though. Money tends to go to people's heads and give them an inflated idea of their importance and worth.

I'm bored with that topic now so am going to move onto a new one. (heh it's been a while since I properly posted so I reckon this is gonna be a long one :))

I think about time travel a lot. I don't believe in it, see no fathomable way that it is actually possible but I often wish it was. There are many things I would like to go back in time and change.

I would like to have said yes the time that I said no. (I do actually mean a specific time, I'm just being evasive because I don't want to share exactly which time I mean with people.) I would also like to have said no when I said yes. I would like to have studied something different at university. I would like to have not done a great many things I did and would like to have done a great many things I didn't do.

It is that which we experience that makes us who we are. This is, of course, true and without the experiences I would like to erase I wouldn't be the person I am now. But the kicker is that I don't want to be the person I am now. There's nothing fundamentally wrong with me and my life but at the same time there are so many things fundamentally wrong with me and my life. Some of these things I can change and am working on changing but others are beyond my capability to change even though the desire is there.

I can see why parents try to guide their children. Why they tell their children not to do something (or to do something) even while knowing without doubt that the child is going to do the exact opposite. Kids need to experience things for themselves to learn but damn it, if I was a parent I know I'd be telling my children anyway. Afterall, we don't want those we love to have to experience the pain of learning the hard lessons we have ourselves already learned.

Everyone will always learn lessons the hard way. Without experiencing things for ourselves we are really just listening to the lesson and believing it. To really, truly, learn something we need to go through it. That fucking sucks.

I like to believe, and it is a naive belief of someone who regularly feels hurt, (although I don't doubt for even one moment that my life is a good one and I have no real right to complain, I can't help it - it may be good comparatively but it isn't the life I would have chosen for myself in hindsight.) that while this Holly has made some of the wrong decisions, there is a universe out there when I have made different decisions, better decisions. I know this isn't true, just as I know time-travel is not possible but it is still something that I cling to in the dead of night when I feel alone and sad. It makes it easier somehow to believe that there is a me out there who is happy.

As I said in my previous post (added later for those who had already read it - somehow a paragraph got deleted so I had to add it back in) not everyone gets a happy ending. I will continue to hope that I will be one of those who gets a happy ending. Luckily I guess we don't know until our final moments whether or not we got a happy ending. Until then there is always hope that something will happen to give us that happy ending. I guess I'll have to start hoping for a happy middle as well.

I don't want anyone to be reading this and thinking that I'm a selfish bitch for being unhappy considering everything I have. I also don't want my friends to be reading this and thinking that I'm dangerously depressed. I'm not. I know damn well that my life is great compared to some people's. But, it is also not great compared to some people's. I doubt there is anyone in the world who is totally content with their lot in life. There are people who are content enough but I can't imagine there is anyone out there who doesn't want for anything at all. What I'm really trying to say is that my life has not turned out the way my childhood self expected it to and I mourn what could have been. There is still time, I'm still young. But, based on things that have gone on before it is impossible that I will have absolutely everything I always dreamed of.

It doesn't help my mood that the one thing I dream of most is the one thing I cannot have no matter how much I wish it. I comfort myself with a few thoughts. One is that my being given that dream would be taking it away from someone else and that is something which would fill me with guilt and possibly ruin the dream for me anyway. The other is that the saying 'the grass is always greener on the other side' is probably true and I would find the realisation of this particular dream nowhere near as wonderful as the dream itself is.

Yes. I am transparent. The dream of which I speak is a particular male. But know this, if you happen to be reading and know that it is you of which I speak. (Which you probably won't because, to my knowledge, you do not read here.) If you come to me, of your own volition, I will deny you nothing.

The final topic of tonight (I think, unless I think of something else as I type) is from a book I once read. The hero of the book came across to everyone who knew him as a bumbling but lovely fool. People did not think him unintelligent but they did think he didn't pay much attention to those around him and they did always find him good for a laugh. The reader though knew he wasn't a fool at all. He very closely watched those around him and gave the reader insight into the other characters. He was, without question, the most perceptive of all the characters. His reason for playing the fool and allowing others to believe he wasn't paying any attention to those around him was that it comforted them. He knew it was what others needed and so that was the part he played.

Thinking about that made me think about the masks people wear everyday. We all play a part and we all cover up our true selves at times. The world is not black and white and neither are people. I know that I present different persona's to different people. All of these persona's, these masks, are facets of me and it means that I don't think anyone other than myself will ever be able to truly know me. Oh for sure there are people that know me very well indeed but there is probably not a single person who will see absolutely every persona I present to the world. I am sure this is the same for everyone. We are different with friends, with lovers, with parents, with children, with work colleagues, with acquaintances and with strangers. Because of this we are the only ones who can ever truly know ourselves. And maybe it's best that way.

You're everything I hoped for and you're everything I need.

Only, people don't always get what they hope for and the need is, in reality, more of a want than a need. I can live without you, I just don't want to.

We were so close and yet, now, I am unable to touch you, unable to talk to you. Where once I was the most important thing in your world, now, I am nothing. Once I could say anything to you, now I have to check my words and check my actions. It hurts to know what I have lost. The fear that I'll never get it back hurts nearly to the point of breaking me. The old saying goes that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Do I believe that? I'm not so sure I do. If I had no memory of you it wouldn't hurt.

But I realise, in the end, the saying is right. I couldn't give up the knowledge of you even if I was offered the opportunity. I couldn't resign myself to a life where I didn't know the sound of your voice, your sense of humour, where I didn't know you. I would rather have a heart-ache that lasts the rest of my life than to have gone through that life never knowing who you are.

I will wait for you, as I have been for a while now. I want to stop but I can't bring myself to. Everytime I try to walk away it lasts only a moment before I give in. I am weak but that is my problem, not yours. You have not lead me to believe there is a future for us any longer. If that is true and we cannot be together then so be it. I want you to be happy and, while I want that happiness to be with me, if it is not then I can accept that. I have no choice but to accept it.

Not everyone can have a happy ending. If they could then it wouldn't be a happy ending it would just be an ending. There must be those who suffer unhappy endings in order for those with happy endings to really appreciate what they have. I would gladly give you my happy ending. I will continue to wish that our ending could be together, but if it can't, and if I could choose, then I would give my happy ending to you.

I just hope you don't mind that I will continue to be here. There may be a wall of glass that I cannot penetrate between us now but I cannot just turn my back. De te Fabula. The story, whatever the story, is always about you

I wrote it for you

I've noticed that there are a lot of covers of songs coming out recently. I guess that's cos there's a lot of great old (and not so old) music.

I decided to spend my mega-exciting, no friends so I hang out on my own, Friday night at home looking on the internet for unexpected covers of songs. (wow could I be any more cool?)

I found a couple. One was a cover of Kokomo (I shouldn't have to tell anyone who is world-famous for this song but I will anyway because of an event a few weeks ago which I will detail further down this blog. It's the Beach Boys' song people.) Anyway I found a cover of Kokomo by Adam Green, featuring Ben Kweller. It's odd. Slow and spoken for a lot of it. I'm definitely in favour of the Beach Boys version of the song but the Adam Green version is still worth a listen.

I also found a cover of R Kelly's Ignition that is truly awful. (I actually have a soft spot for R Kelly's version for reasons that I'm not discussing with the world). Bonnie 'Prince' Billy does an awful job covering this song. Listening to it I felt the way normal people do when they listen to the R Kelly version. (Maybe not all people, but everyone I know hates the R Kelly version).

So, the reason I had to tell you all it was the Beach Boys that sang Kokomo is because of a staff meeting a few weeks ago. For some reason that I can't remember my boss mentioned John Lennon. One of the staff (mostly made up of school kids) asked who John Lennon was. We thought she was joking but then a couple of others didn't know either. People actually didn't know who John Lennon was. Man that made me feel old!

As well as my uber exciting song searching I asked an online magic 8 ball some very important questions. I got the answers I wanted too so that was nice. Just wish Magic 8 balls were actually right all the time! Heh to round off my evening I watched some dvds and played some video games. I guess I just wanted to actually prove I'm a total geek or something.

Next week I'm going to see a career coach. I've decided it's time for me to actually get a plan and get on track with my life. When I was a kid I always thought I'd end up doing something great. Right now I just feel like a disappointment to myself. Working in a movie theatre sure isn't what I want to do forever, even if it does pay well.

That's about it from me. I don't have a lot of other news really.

Catchya

So I don't want this blog to become solely me whining about my job but it's about all I think about these days so if you don't wanna read it then, well, don't.

I had a dream last night (this morning) that I was going to uni at Auckland uni. I was lying in my bed asleep and heard that it was raining so decided I didn't want to go in to uni. I then woke up for real and realised I don't go to uni and I can't just not go into work because I feel like it. That made me sad because I REALLY don't want to go into work.

3 things have gone wrong today at work and I start tonight at 4pm. I know, without question, that I'm going to be blamed for two of those things even though neither of them are actually my fault. It would not surprise me if I am blamed for the third thing either. Man, that sucks.

Ok I'm gonna quit complaining. (For this post anyway) because if I'm not doing anything about it then it's really only my fault that I still hate it.

In other news, the smacking law is going to be passed. John Key and Helen Clark are both in agreement over it. I've read over the amendments that have been made to it and I think it is now a bill I am in support of. I didn't like it at first because I think, sometimes, a small smack does a child good. I know it used to do me good. Often I would push and push my parents until they did smack me. Just yelling at me or sending me to my room didn't work, I just came straight back out of my room. The smack always gave me more of a fright than it hurt. I never had bruises because of it and it definitely kept me in line better than anything else could have.

I bought a dvd last night that I think everyone should watch. It's called Hard Candy It's a bloody good film. The acting is outstanding and I'm amazed I haven't heard more about it. Go. Rent it. Now!