The World Of Jadeey

I am worried that forcing myself to post everyday is damaging the integrity of this blog. What integrity you ask... The integrity that comes with only posting when I have something I want to say, of only posting that which I feel a need to share rather than forcing myself to come up with something everyday.

However, for the short-term I will persist. If my feelings along these lines continue I will stop posting everyday and go back to just posting when I feel like it. In other words, we will see.

I read a book today about a boy who wakes up one morning and decides to take guns and bombs with him to his high school and shoot up the place. It was an interesting book and one which I really enjoyed. It did get me thinking about popularity and how that works.

It seems to me that high school in America is a very damaging place. I went to an all-girls high school and so I don't know what co-ed high schools here in NZ are like but my school was nothing like the portrayal of American schools in books, movies, tv shows and even the news. In my school there was no jocks, geeks, losers, popular girls etc. Or maybe there was and I just somehow missed it.

People did get teased at my school but, to my knowledge, there was no-one that got picked on and bullied on a regular basis. There was no person that I can think of who didn't have any friends and that everyone else was scared to be friends with in case their 'weirdness' rubbed off on them. I can think of one girl who was stared at and talked about a lot behind her back. She had a form of anorexia and it did make people comment. I don't think anyone was mean to her though and she had plenty friends. I know this for sure because I was one of them.

In this book I was reading one of the main characters talks about how as one of the popular kids she always had to be on her guard to make sure she didn't do anything to lose her status. Apparently popularity is fleeting and it only takes one false move to lose it forever. I'm sure there was no-one like that at my school. There was no-one that everyone else stared at and wished they were friends with, no-one that 'ruled the school'.

Maybe it was the lack of boys that made my school different? Or maybe schools just aren't like that in New Zealand. I don't know. What I do know is that I am happy it wasn't like that. I don't think I would have been one of the unpopular ones but I certainly wouldn't have been one of the cool, beautiful girls that everyone wanted to be like. I imagine I would have been one that just slipped under the radar.

I can't even imagine what it would be like to lose a child, a friend, a family member that way. I wonder now, after reading the book, just as I wondered when I first heard about the Columbine shootings about the parents of the boys (and I think it's usually boys) who were the murderers. For that matter, I wonder about the parents of all murderers. Everyone always takes the time to feel sorry for the parents and family of victims of murder but usually not for the parent and family of the murderer themselves.

There would be a case to make for the fact that the family of a murderer doesn't deserve sympathy. After all, they brought a murderer into this world, they raised a murderer. Surely they must have done something wrong to have caused this. But, that's just not true. Maybe in some cases it is but not in all. It would be nice if you could blame psychopathic tendencies on bad parenting but you just can't. A kid could grow up with the best, most supportive, most loving parents in the world and still turn out wrong. That's the problem, as far as the experts know, there is no one cause for having a desire to kill another human being and actually acting on that impulse. If there was then the problem could be stopped before it occurs and we wouldn't have any murder at all.

So, I feel sorry for the parents of a murderer, the ones who really didn't do anything to cause their child to turn out like that. Their lives will never be the same, just like the family of the victim will never be the same. The parents didn't do any wrong to create the situation but often they will be vilified along with their child. Not only that, but they have lost their own child. Their child will never again be the sweet little person they probably once were. Only, unlike the families of the victim, they cannot openly mourn the loss of their child.

It must be sad and it must be so damn hard. The secret mourning; the asking yourself if it is something you did that caused your child to turn out to be a monster; the asking yourself if you could have stopped it somehow; the world thinking you are a bad parent; the fear that your other children may go the same way, may also commit horrific crimes; the wondering if you missed something vital, some vital moment, that could have stopped this; the knowledge that nothing will ever be the same again..

I can't even begin to imagine how it would feel just like I cannot begin to imagine what it would feel like to lose someone to murder. I hope I never learn what it feels like for I can only be thankful that I don't know.

Alright, a discussion on brackets and my overuse of them. Why do I do it? It's simple really, when I write a blog it is really just a stream of consciousness so I have a lot of asides. If it was Shakespeare (and lets face it, my blog comes pretty close in terms of brilliance) then I would write the word 'aside' but it's not so I just chuck in some brackets.

That's the thing I like about blogging, you don't have to worry about any kind of literary conventions. Obviously if I was writing anything formal, an article, short story, novel etc I wouldn't constantly put in brackets. No-one wants to know what the author thinks in those types of writing but in a blog it's all about what the author thinks. Haha there you go, I like blogging because it's all about me!

So, all in all, I use way too many brackets in here but it doesn't matter because it's a blog and it doesn't have to be grammatically correct. I just hope I don't get into a bracket-habit and start using them in other writing too. That would be bad!

I went go-karting with work today. It was awesome. My team didn't win but we didn't come last either so I can cope. I had forgotten how much fun it is and I want to go back again! I also want to go back snowboarding! Suddenly I like Auckland a little bit! Kat says I should mention that she whipped my arse. However, this is not actually true. Her team beat mine by less than a second and we would have beaten them had the organisers been a little quicker to sort out my teammate who spun out on the last lap. Instead he was left to sit there while everyone else passed him and then he had to go around the track all by himself. So there!

My flatmate is writing tomorrow about something that excites her. (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) I think that will be worth checking out so make sure you drop by her blog. (There's a link under 'cool people' on here.)

I have an itch. It is in an unfortunate place. It's the inside of my leg but, of course, when I itch it people probably don't think I am itching my leg so I better remember not to itch it in public lest people think I am a sicko masturbating in public or something!

And on that note I am done.

(I'm sorry about the lyrics but they were the only ones I could think of off the top of my head that were about driving. I know they're not actually about driving but they use driving words even if it is actually talking about sex!)

(Tomorrow I think I might have to write a discussion on my incredibly appalling overuse of brackets. I can't do it today because I already have a topic in mind but I think it needs to be addressed urgently. I cannot continue like this! I am now following up a paragraph all in brackets with a second bracketed paragraph. My first two paragraphs no less. It's disgusting is what it is!)

(And now on with the show!) :-P

I drove my car back from Hamilton today. It was an interesting experience and it got me thinking. (Do you think anything has ever not got me thinking?) We are always hearing that speeding kills right? To drive over the speed limit is not cool, people do not respect you for it and it will not gain you popularity points with many people.

Everyone I know says, when talking about taking a long drive that didn't take as long as expected, "I drove the speed limit the whole way. I don't speed." This can't be true. I was passed by heaps of cars today, and that was even the times that I hadn't been paying attention to my speed and was driving at about 110kph. I'm sure it's not just that no-one I know speeds and that everyone else does. I think everyone says they don't but often they do. Not day-to-day speeding necessarily. Open road speeding is quite different I think since 100kph feels quite slow on the open road.

It's funny that speeding is up there with the racism, sexism, homophobia and all those other things everyone says doesn't relate to them but must relate to some of the people who say it.

I can't decide if society is better for the fact that no-one wants to openly admit to their homophobia, racism etc. On the one hand it's good that it's not mentioned because it shows that feeling that way is something to be ashamed of. You cannot openly admit to being prejudiced about anything because prejudice does not fit in a society that aims to be equal opportunity. On the other hand it's bad that these prejudiced thoughts and feelings are only whispered about because it means that they never get dealt with openly and honestly. The open and honest approach would hurt a lot of people now but would it actually be better in the long run. Would it actually eventually solve the problem or would it just make it worse and take us backwards. I really don't know the answer.

On a lighter note, I'm going go-karting tomorrow. It really has been an exciting 10 days for me. Snowboarding last weekend, Hamilton and go-karting this weekend. What an exciting life I do lead! :-P

It's early. I'm tired. I'm running incredibly late for work. Yet, still, I am writing in here. I must be stupid.

Back when I used to blog pretty much every day (and often more than once a day) it was easy because I wrote stuff as I thought of it. Now that I am forcing myself to blog everyday it is a bit different and a lot harder because I have to think up things to talk about. (Heh I'm complaining and this is only the third day of writing, what am I going to be like in a week?)

You should all feel very privileged that I am even writing this since I very nearly forgot. Why did I say you 'all'. I am pretty convinced I only have 2 readers. I should write a BIG, BIG secret here and see how many people talk to me about it to test whether there is anyone else reading.

So here it is. A BIG, BIG secret.....

I'm pregnant.

































































Okay that was a lie. I'm not. I wonder if I put enough enters in for people to have to scroll down to read that it is a lie. I guess I will find out when I hit publish.

The big boss was in town today. It is the first time he has been into work since we opened. (He lives in OZ). It was pretty funny watching the managers above me panic. Me and the other assistant manager were told he would want to talk to us about all the things we have been doing and that we needed to think about what questions he would ask us and prepare answers. For me this meant having to learn a whole lot of statistics about which product lines work best and coming up with reasons why...

Neither of us bothered. I didn't learn the statistics which could have backfired atrociously on me if we'd been wrong in our assumption that he wouldn't want to talk to us. Thankfully we were not wrong. We figured there was no way he'd care about what the assistant managers thought, he'd only care what the complex manager thought. Not to say he thinks we are unimportant. He's a really nice guy but we are not blind to our importance in the big scheme of things. I'm really glad I didn't waste my time memorising boring statistics!

In other job news I got an email today telling me I was unsuccessful in a job I applied for. The funny thing is that I had already turned down the interview because I decided I didn't want the job afterall. So I knew I was unsuccessful and would have been mighty surprised had I actually been successful!

I should go and put some washing on. Yes, I think I might do that. Hold on, I'll be back in a sec. (Not that it makes a difference to people reading this.)

I am back. Rejoice.

I have been wondering about something. What is the normal number of DVDs for a person to have? A lot of my friends have a number in the hundreds so for me that seems normal but I'm sure it's the exception rather than the rule to have that many. Most of my friends are film geeks like me so a big dvd collection is essential. I, myself, am addicted to buying dvds. (Why I, myself? I'm sure that sentence is correct grammatically but it seems a bit redundant to say both 'I' and 'myself'. Who else would it be, I, my next-door neighbour? That's just silly.) Anyway, I am addicted to buying dvds and I hardly ever watch the ones I own. For someone who owns so many I actually don't watch dvds all that often. I would like to but I'm always working so don't end up with a lot of time.

I tell you what, I'd have a lot more money in the bank if I didn't have a stupid addiction to dvd-purchasing. I also have an addiction to video game-purchasing. I think I am a lost cause!

Before I leave you all and hunt down some food. (Or, look in the fridge since that seems easier than actually going hunting. Especially since I don't own a gun and am not that keen on eating opossum or whatever else I find out there. Here's a question, {as though these brackets aren't already big enough and now I even have brackets within brakets} why is it sometimes spelt possum and other times opossum? I do not know the answer but am interested to know the answer if anyone else knows.) Oh no! I wrote so much in the brackets that I've forgotten what I was actually going to write....

(5 minutes of pondering later)

I have remembered! I was going to say that the title of this post comes from the Okkervil River song of the same name. It is an awesome song and I recommend finding it and listening to it. It will change your life. (Amount of life changing may vary. The author of this blog takes no responsibility if you feel your life is not adequately changed by the song.)

Actually I couldn't be James Dean since I am a female but they were the first lyrics that sprang to mind about today's topic. That topic is famous people.

I found out today what it is like to be famous. I tell you what, I didn't like it. It was fun for all of about 2 minutes then it drove me crazy. How did I find out what it's like to be famous you ask? Settle down, be patient and I'll tell you.

I dressed up as Bart Simpson today. We have at work a Bart and a Homer costume so me and Andy dressed up and walked around the mall. Instantly we were mobbed. Kids and adults alike ran up to us, grabbed our hands, told us they loved us, patted us on the back, patted us on the bum, got their friends to take photos of them with us and generally just hung around looking at us. The advent of camera phones sure helped a lot of people out today, 5 years ago (even 2 years ago) it would have been quite different since people wouldn't have been carrying cameras on them. Every second person was whipping out a pxt phone today!

Tomorrow I'm dressing as Homer and taking a train ride into town. It should be pretty interesting. Hot though! Those costumes are pretty awful to wear for a long period of time! (I will provide pictures tomorrow)

I haven't seen the movie yet but I'm dying to. I'm going on Sunday with a friend who is up from Wellington and I've decided I will wait and make going with him the first time I see it rather than cheating and seeing it sooner.

Okay, I know this has been very boring and very short but it's late and I want to go to bed and read my book.

My flatmate is updating her blog everyday and so, being ultra-competitive, I am going to update everyday too. As a self-proclaimed future world-famous author I may as well make an effort to actually write!

I'm not sure if I have mentioned my desire to be a social worker here before. Being a writer or being a social worker are the only two careers I can imagine for myself. My parents and close friends don't want me to be a social worker which leaves me with writer. I have to agree with those who tell me I'm crazy to want to get into social work. Their reasoning is that it will break me and I can certainly see that they are probably right. I like to think that I am a fairly strong person but I feel things very deeply.

I'm not sure the potential harm to myself is reason enough not to do it. What if I could actually help lots of people. My dad was a fireman, that's a pretty dangerous occupation and yet he risked himself time and again for other people. The only difference between that and the potential danger to me as a social worker is that his danger was physical mine would be emotional. When it comes down to it my danger is minimal in comparison because I can come up with ways to avoid it, my own support people, my writing etc. I can find ways to deal with the emotional damage it will do to me and I believe I could really make a difference.

Writing this now brings me right back to wanting to do it. Damn. I kind of wish I hadn't started thinking about it again. I'd decided earlier this year that everyone was right. Hell I can't even think about the deaths of the mice living in our hot water cupboard (their deaths haven't occurred yet but the trap is set so it won't be long now) without getting a bit upset. I probably shouldn't be a social worker yet I can't help thinking again right now that maybe I am supposed to be even if it is detrimental to my own self.

My dad keeps ringing me up and telling me about admin jobs (not PA jobs, jobs such as working for Trade and Enterprise, as a business manager etc. Highly paid but essentially boring, behind a desk administration jobs) he has seen advertised. He fails to listen when I tell him that I have no interest in administration. It's not his fault, he wants me to be rich and successful yet everything I actually want to do will probably end with me living in squalor since neither writing or social work are likely to make me a huge amount of money. Okay so squalor is a huge exaggeration but lets face it, I'm not going to be rich with either of those occupations. My dad will support me no matter what I do but if he can lead me into the boring world of admin then I think he will be very happy.

Oh look at the time. I am going to be late if I don't get going. Woo stocktake night. Could life get anymore exciting?

Well it's all over. The final book in the Harry Potter series has been published and I have read it. It's a weird feeling. Harry has been a constant in my life for a long time now. I love the Harry Potter books. I am not so naive as to say that they are the best written books I have ever read but I don't care, I love them anyway. I hate all the talk of 'well-written' books. What does that mean really? The Harry Potter books are loved world-wide. They have captured the imaginations and the hearts of millions of people, adults and children alike. Isn't that enough?

What does it really matter, in the end, that JK abuses certain literary techniques to an abominable degree. So what that no character ever speaks in the books without her pointing out to the reader that they have spoken. There is an abundance of "Harry said", "Hermione pointed out", "Hermione said wisely", "Ron groaned." She qualifies every speech where others would let the conversation flow naturally and leave it to the reader to discern who is talking. Personally I feel that the latter is much more suited to adult books and JK's approach is best when writing for children and, lets face it, no matter how many adults have fallen in love with the objects of Rowling's imagination, her story is a children's story.

Since finishing the book and therefore it being safe for me to venture back onto the internet I have been hunting for other people's opinions on the events that unfolded in Deathly Hallows. There is an epilogue at the end of the book that I have discovered many people did not like. Apparently it didn't give enough information and was badly written. I disagree. The epilogue did not match the writing of the rest of the book but of course it didn't! The rest of the book told of dark times and a terrible war. The epilogue was what happened AFTER! (I am trying not to give anything away but I think that anyone who is crazy enough to believe that the books might have ended with Voldemort's reign prevailing needs to have their head read and deserves to have the ending spoilt.) The epilogue tells what happens after Voldemort is defeated so of course there is a happier tone to that part of the book. The tone of the epilogue leads us in a neat little circle back to the light-hearted tone of the first book.

Quite apart from what I see as a nice symmetry between the first book and the epilogue of the final book is that an epilogue is not supposed to be part of a book anyway. Prologues are written to give a reader a small insight into something that is important to the book but that cannot, for whatever reason, be included in the actual book. It is background information that doesn't actually fit with the story but that is important to the story. Similarly an epilogue takes you forward into the future of the characters for a quick glimpse as to what the conclusion of the story has meant for them. The final chapter is (you'd hope) always needed in a story but the epilogue isn't. It is added for readers who want to know just that little bit more, who want to know that their hero moved on and married the love of their life or learnt from that final lesson or, if their hero died, that the other characters still remember them. (No, I'm not referring to Harry Potter. I'm referring to the main character, the hero, of any story.) The epilogue is essentially a lengthy version of the tried and true 'they lived happily ever after'.

Those that think the epilogue of Deathly Hallows didn't fit with the rest of the book need to remember that it isn't meant to. Those who claim it didn't give them enough information about what happened to the surviving characters need to remember that after so many books and after so many millions of people around the world have fallen in love with these characters created by JK Rowling there are always going to be questions, you are always going to want more. The epilogue she has provided us with is good. It gives us a small insight into the character's futures without screeds of boring prose. (Very unlike this blog then!) The epilogue of Deathly Hallows does exactly what an epilogue should do. The testament of a good writer is that the reader is left wanting more. (and that's where fanfiction comes in, bless it.)

Speaking of fanfiction, another annoying thing I have read is that the book reads like well-written fanfiction. What on earth does this mean? Maybe I'm stupid but what is the difference between fanfiction and the real thing? To me, fanfiction is when someone who has a desire to write has an idea for a story that just happens to involve characters that have already been created by someone else. Because the characters belong to someone else it can never be published for profit but instead falls under the category of 'fanfiction'. Hell yeah there is a lot of truly awful fanfiction but that is because there are no restrictions to it. You don't have to pass your work past an editor and have it judged worthy before it is unleashed on an unsuspecting world. You certainly have to search hard to separate the wheat from the chaff when delving into the realm of fanfiction reading but that certainly doesn't explain to me what people mean when they say this book reads like fanfiction, especially since people are calling it well written fanfiction.

I found similarly confusing comments when Half-Blood Prince came out. Back then I read heaps of comments where people claimed that Harry et al were out of character. What I wanted to know then was how can the author's own characters be out of character? Sure, they can do things that surprise us, but ultimately they are the creation of someone's imagination and that someone cannot really take them out of character. A poor writer can create a character who is unbelievable due to their changeable, with no explanation, personality, but I think that is very different to saying their character is out of character. The only time a character can be out of character, in my opinion, is in fanfiction because the author of the fanfiction is not the creator of the character and can not say that it is the way that character would act in that circumstance. But the original creator can say that is the way the character would act because it is their character, their world, their rules.

If, say, JK Rowling decided to have Snape dance down the hallways of Hogwarts singing a song about raindrops on roses and mittens on kittens then he would be acting surprisingly out of character but he wouldn't actually be out of character. It would certainly require a huge explanation to readers as to why he was doing it but, while they might not like it and while it might lead to the book not being successful, you could not say that Snape was out of character. You could only say that it was stupid because he was acting so out of character.

I fear I have not explained myself clearly and this is one of the glaringly obvious pitfalls in all of my writing, that I can never write succinctly enough to get my point across. I will, however, persist and try to get my point across even if I have to do it far more verbosely than better writers than I would need to.

Let's say, for the sake of this argument that I'm beginning to wish I had never started but find myself needing to continue, that I was to leave my house right now, take out a gun and shoot the first person I saw. Those of you who know me would know how severely out of character I would be acting if I did that. (Hell, I'm acting out of character enough when I yell at someone let alone shoot them!) Would anyone actually say that I am out of character though? Of course not. That's crazy, I am a thinking, feeling being and my actions are mine alone. The action I committed seems out of character for me but it is impossible for me to actually be out of character. Only I can ever know with absolute certainty how I am going to act. To act out of character is to do something that takes those who know you by surprise because it is not what it is expected of you but a person cannot actually be out of character. It is the same with a character in a book, they can act in a way the reader didn't expect but they are an extension of the person writing the story and as such cannot actually be out of character.

I fear I have gone on about this too long. I am even boring myself! I think I will leave it here. The short version of what I have just written - I really enjoyed the books and I am incredibly sad it's all over.

Before I start I want to say that Kat is now the only person I like in the whole wide world because she is the only person who comments here. Thank you Kat! You are nice.

Now, without further ado, onto the actual post.

I have drums in my head. That might sound like an odd thing to say but it's true, I have an almost constant drum-beat in my head. It occurs to me this very second that this is not the first time I have written about things that often go on in my head. I'm sure it also won't be the last. The inner workings of my mind are indeed strange.

Anyway, back to the drum-beat. Remember on Ally McBeal how she used to go on about theme songs? Well it's sort of like that, a constant drumming in my head that is almost like a theme-song to whatever is happening at the time. I'm not joking about this. Perhaps it is normal for everyone and you'll all be nodding your heads right now agreeing that this happens to you as well. Even if it's not normal (which I suspect it isn't. I used to mention it at high school and remember some truly odd looks directed my way) I don't care. I wouldn't give it up. I like it.

I often end up tapping my fingers in the beat that is currently going on, particularly when I'm doing something mind-numbing like the roster or stocktake. The beat suits whatever is going on in the world around me. For instance, my boss's arrival inspires one certain drum-beat; the walk to work brings about a similar, but not quite the same, beat to my boss's; the walk home a different beat again; the boy I have interest in has his own beat that is prevalent in my mind whenever I am in his company. Actually, he has a couple of different beats but that's another story.

When I was a kid I desperately wanted to learn the drums, maybe because they were in my head even then. My mum wouldn't let me though. I remember one day she told me that I wouldn't be any good at it because I had no co-ordination. I know she was wrong. I have great co-ordination and I just know I would have been really, really good.

Instead I was forced to play the recorder. The recorder I tell you! What a lame instrument that is! Not even really worth the title of instrument. I was later allowed to play the saxophone which, at least, is a fucking cool instrument. I was really good at both in case you are wondering. Could belt out Mary had a Little Lamb with nary a mistake. Heh just kidding. I mean, I could play Mary had a Little Lamb without a mistake, I'm not kidding about that. I was good though. Good enough that I quit both instruments because my teachers insisted on moving me up to have to play with kids a lot older than myself. Being a very shy kid I couldn't bear it and couldn't bear then not being the best in the class so I gave it up.

As a kid I always wanted to be the best at stuff and tended to quit if I wasn't instantly good at something or wasn't the best. I think it was a need to make up for my lack of self-confidence in other areas. At primary school I was the best in all my classes most of the time. At college I wasn't anywhere near the best and that rankled with me. I, of course, couldn't quit school but I instead stopped putting in effort. If I wasn't trying then I wasn't failing by not being the best because by not trying I wasn't deserving anyway. I could still feel good about myself by knowing that I was well above average even without effort. Even though I routinely completed my homework during the interval and lunch breaks and barely ever touched school-work outside of school time. I could tell myself that if I actually put effort in I would be the best. It wasn't true. I wasn't the smartest person there by far and I knew it really, but by giving up trying I could convince myself that I could have been.

It happened in both the recorder and the saxophone. As soon as I was moved up to be with the older kids I quit because I was no longer the best in the class. It didn't matter to me that I was the best of my age-group at that particular music school, it only mattered that I wasn't the best in the class I was now in. I thought the other kids in my new classes were laughing at me because I wasn't as good as them. I thought that because they were older they thought I was a stupid little kid. So I gave up. I've always been a quitter and I've always hated that about myself. I did it in karate too. I quit as soon as they moved me up to the older kids class. The craziest thing about that was that 4 others in my class were moving with me so I wasn't going to be the worst in the class. But I quit anyway because I wouldn't have been the best anymore.

I no longer quit when I'm not the best but it does still bug the hell out of me. I can't stand to have my faults commented on and it is for this reason, if I'm being honest which it seems I am right now, that I will probably never make it as a writer. I can't take the criticism and until I learn how to I won't get any better than I am now.

There was a very defining moment I remember as a teenager. The moment I started hiding my desire to be the best. I still like to be the best but I hide it better now. I was having a fight with a good friend of mine, a girl I'd been friends with since we were five years old. She told me she didn't want to be friends with me anymore because she hated how I always had to be right. I would push and push until the other person admitted I was right, I would never back down. The loss of this friendship stung me deeply and still affects me now. I always do back down now whereas I never used to and don't try to stand up for myself. Recently someone told me I need to do things for myself, not for the approval of others. But I can't help it. I lost my best friend that day and never got her back. She would never be friends with me again and now I go through life terrified that it's going to happen again. So now I strive to be a person everyone wants to be friends with. It doesn't fill the hole left when Vanessa walked away from me but it does, to an extent, keep that hole from tearing me apart.

I can't and won't give up on my friends, even when maybe they deserve it, because of this event when I was 16 years old. Because I know what it is like to be given up on for a personality fault that you weren't even aware of. It's not a personality trait that's disappeared from me either. I still always know I'm right. I just don't always tell people that I'm right. Sometimes I even tell people that maybe I'm wrong, all the while knowing in my head that I'm very much right and that they are an idiot.

I have drifted very far away from the drums in my head. I shouldn't be surprised since it always seems to happen. A small part of me, however, always remains bewildered that I can travel so far off course when I'm posting here.

Back to the drums in my head. I love listening to music that has really great drumming. Phil Collins in one of my favourites. He really cares about drums and his music is a testament to that. Speaking of Phil Collins (here I go again, although it's okay this time because I think I'm done on the topic of drums to be honest. I can't think of anything else to say about them.). I'm going to start that sentence again because I went on in the brackets too long. Speaking of Phil Collins, I was most disappointed about a year ago to discover that his song 'In the Air Tonight' was not about his dead brother at all. He didn't perform it with his dead brother's killer sitting in the front row. Didn't sing it directly to his brother's killer and watch as the killer realised exactly what he was singing about. Don't get me wrong, I still love the song but it has lost some of it's magic, some of it's meaning since I learned it was all an urban myth.

Right I'm off to do the dishes. *sigh* The dishes have their own drum-beat and, let me tell you, it isn't a happy one!

:-)

No, no, no


The immense stupidity of some people never ceases to amaze me. I am most definitely one of those people.

My flatmate laughs at me because I am naively innocent when someone subtly calls someone fat. One example is she was telling me about this guy who was trying to figure out a way to get his girlfriend to talk to him again. He had thoroughly insulted her when he suggested that they leave before she finished her chips. I was initially very confused because I couldn't understand why she would be insulted. I just assumed he was running late or something.

This makes me wonder if I miss these subtle insults when they are directed my way. To my knowledge no-one has ever called me fat or insulted me with a fat joke. However, I now realise they might have and I just don't know it. I could be insulted on a regular basis and be blissfully unaware of it. Then again, if I'm not aware of it then I'm not being insulted so I guess there is no problem.

I went out drinking with some workmates on Thursday night. A very funny faux-pax was made during this drinking session and I am going to share it here. I'm not sure it will translate onto paper the way it did live but we will see. I hope it doesn't turn out to be a 'had to be there' moment. That would be embarrassing.

The players in this little story will have their names changed to protect their identities. They will be workmate 1 and workmate 2. I will still just be me.

We were discussing vibrators.

Workmate 1: I've never seen a vibrator in real-life.
a brief amount of idle chit-chat about other stuff occurs for, at most, 3 minutes
Workmate 2: We should take you shopping on K-Road
Workmate 1: You'll have to wait until I get some money. I do want to check out the second hand shops though!
Workmate 1 and I crack up and cannot stop laughing. Workmate 2 looks completely confused
Workmate 2: What? Why are you laughing?
Me: He was talking about sex toys!
Workmate 2: Oh! I was talking about clothes!

Right. So. I have no idea if that translated to the page well or not.

I have run out of things to say but I shall leave you with this important piece of wisdom:

Trogdor is the Burninator and he is going to burninate the village! He is going to burninate the peasants! Trogdor!!