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The things you can find on the internet. This is my favourite one ever:

For Lou x

Poetic Thoughts #4

Okay technically these thoughts are actually a song that I wrote on the bus on my way home tonight, and technically they aren’t actually anywhere near poetic, but I had fun. I was bored, and needing something to do. Lou and I went to Chatime again this afternoon and spent a long time drinking really sweet tea and ‘studying Trotsky’ and eating her Korean potato noodles with chopsticks – and when I say chopsticks, I actually mean straws that we stole from the counter and used as chopsticks, because we’re resourceful and all. I mean, we’re like Man vs. City, and we beat the city every time man.

So yeah, ‘poetry’ that’s actually a song. Imagine the tune from Playschool for ‘There’s a spot over here and a spot over there and a spot on your ear and a spot in your hair …’ if you know that song. J

It’s called To the Boys at the Back of the 436: An Ode

In their hoodies and trackies the boys at the back

Are chewing their gum as they sit in a pack

And they shout and they swear and they cat-call at me

It’s a bus, please don’t cuss you’re not even hotties.

It’s dark out and lonely I’m not in the mood

To be winked at or hit on or share air with some dude

Don’t come close don’t dare boast you’re not even a catch

For my year eight self-defence trust me you’re no match.

So we’ve reached a point now there’s no turning back

Or your lad mates will tease you well that’s simply slack

That’s right your Pig Latin won’t make you more tough

I don’t swear I don’t care won’t you please uck-fay off?

Love you in a similar proportion to the dislike I feel for the lads at the back of my bus.

x

Oops

I’ve been neglecting you. I know. I wrote this big sarcastic slightly amusing thingo for you but it stuffed up when I tried to publish it and I haven’t gotten around to doing anything since. Hence the ‘oops’. You still love me though, don’t you? Don’t you? Awkward silence .. :S

So what’s new? Today we WON SOCCER! ARGH it’s so exciting – it was 1-0 and Bronte scored and Lara almost scored and Lucy almost scored and it was just sort of brilliant. So now, although I am dying from the pain in my legs (this girl kicked me just where my shin pad wasn’t) (and also I ran a lot and am still unfit), I am incredibubbly. My nose is wrinkled and I’m smiling at you with a massive smile and it’s not very attractive. But I tell you what is?

Sweden’s entry into Eurovision. Kind of yummy, no? Now I’m just going to sit back, watch Sweden win and then see it get all POPULAR. ß Ahaha I’m so funny if you don’t get it then you should watch Eurovision tonight. Yes, that’s right, jump on the Sweden-loving bandwagon you fair-weather friends … but actually do, I need some company over here.

Um on Friday a bunch of things happened – we had a joint civi day/barbecue/soccer game with the boys’ school and raised $4866.05 for UNICEF. So congratulations Tara, you are really and truly and utterly amazing and we all love you bunches. You are going to win some sort of award, I swear. Anyway the theme for the civi day was floral, so I made myself a headdress sort of thing in the shape of a sunflower. Yeah, I received weird looks as people paid for their kebabs, but I think it’s my job to elicit said weird looks. Don’t you think hyperlink?

In the evening we went to watch Louise, Laurin, Una and Sarah debate the boys’ school with the topic ‘That Australia should legalise commercial surrogacy’. We were aff, which was definitely the harder side, and we lost L but we had pompom (singular, as I only had enough crepe paper for one)! Lou was the most hilarious third, opening with “What we’ve heard tonight in this debate is a bunch of boys who don’t know anything about women and probably never even paid attention in PD,” and then later went on to say, “They might have to have sex with their cousins, and that would be just … inconvenient.” Love you Loulou, even if you hate my calling you that.

Tiantian and I also had this dare thing going on that any time one of the debaters said the word 'exploit' we would swap our pants -- if you guys are from Britain, DON'T WORRY it's not that weird, see, in Australia we call trousers 'pants' and pants 'underwear'. Just in case you were incredibly incredibly confused and awkward about that. But it was sad because NO ONE SAID EXPLOIT. There was an 'exploited', an 'exploiting', even an 'exploitation', but apparently no one uses exploit anymore. Kinda good though in a way, our deputy principal was there and an English teacher and it was a really bright room and we were sort of right in the line of view of the boys' table. Although maybe if we had done it we would have distracted them enough to WIN. (Of course I don't condone that sort of exploitation - :P -  of the nature of teenage boys in order to win. Usually it's easy enough to win anyways, this was an exception.)

Other than that I’m not sure what to say. Hope you didn’t miss me too much lovelies. Oh, Doctor Who on Saturday was … mmmm the plot wasn’t the most exciting, I spent most of the time calling it stupid until the bit where they were in the parallel universe that had been in tandem with ours for a bit, that was quite nice. I wish there had been more bits about the feeling like someone was watching them, because as far as I remember it only happened once and it was a pretty big plot device and it would have been a much more exciting reveal had more importance been placed on it early on. What do you guys think? Do you watch Doctor Who? Do you exist or are you only the Silence?

Okay I should go now because I am so tired and need to read a lot. I need to read SO MUCH. I can’t wait until this year is over, seriously.

Love you pretty much as much as WINNING SOCCER!

x

Piratisis

So today was a pretty good day. Why? Because yours truly had the unparalleled opportunity to make a huge fool of herself with a bit of that good old Australian sense of self-deprecating situational humour.

I’m also in pain. That’s why it’s a ‘pretty’ good day, as opposed to a fantastic one.

Yesterday I got some dirt or something in my eye. Today I went to the doctor to get it checked out. They have no idea what’s wrong with it. So I got some eyedrops to put in every two hours and the most flattering eye-patch the world has ever set eyes upon.

Instead of the whole humiliating eye-patch thing, I just got Lou to write the word “YARR” on it in orange (later to be redone in permanent marker by Tiantian), so that perhaps my debilitated condition may bring some source of amusement to my friends. And later, to random strangers on the bus.

Enjoy my piratisis (it’s contagious) with some of these beautiful PC-photobooth pictures. J



Swashbuckling Pirate



Really really ridiculously good-looking Pirate

Love you like I love my eye-patch (which is a lot, I swear)

x

Gone Fishing

See I have this theory, right? It’s called the Gone Fishing Theory of Wibbly-Wobbly Timey-Wimey Stuff. (I love Doctor Who. Its brilliance astounds me continually.)

So basically the theory goes like this. There’s no real good or bad in the world. There’s only there at the right time, or Gone Fishing.

Let’s take a relationship for example. Boy is in love with Girl. Girl is in love with Boy Number Two. Boy despairs because he thought that the good guy was supposed to always get the girl. Girl says, perhaps there is no good guy in this situation. There is only there at the right time (Boy Number Two) or Gone Fishing (Boy).

I think that’s how the world works sometimes. It’s just random occurrences that shape our lives in ways we cannot imagine. I might, for example, have spent my entire youth at Parkes, where the massive telescope is, in the middle of New South Wales. My dad only just missed out on a job there – he was Gone Fishing (not literally). Had he been there at the right time, I would have spent my life with about ten other kids, gone to a tiny school, been a proper country girl. Who knows what I would be like right now?

Another example happened in year six. We had to put in an application to high schools, and I had Fort Street as my first choice. Had I Gone Fishing and not been there to change my choices at literally the last minute (my teacher was about to post off the applications when mum and I went to change it) I would never have gone to Sydney High and met the amazing people I know. Who knows what I would be like right now? (Although I don’t deny that Fort Street is cool and a good school.)

Some people believe in fate, but I believe in luck and mistakes and decisions. You are either there at the right time, or Gone Fishing.

Love you like Matt Smith loves Karen Gillan (he’s in love with her, I can tell).

(Wait bleeeeurgh watch this:                                                                           love is in the air)

X

Playing with Thoughts and Memories

***

I had something beautiful to show you but I don’t know where it is.

I think I may have lent it to someone but I don’t remember unimportant details like that. I remember useful things like the way the moon looked from the back seat of the car in my grandparents’ station wagon when they drove me through the night to their home in Canberra. The trees were skeletal and silver in the winter night and the moon was full and pulsing and it followed us the 300km. I fell asleep in the car and when I woke up I was in another city, and all I could remember was staring out at the moon and the ghostly trees on the side of the highway.

If I owned the moon, I would leave it up in the sky and everyone could see it every night for free. I wouldn’t want to be the person who took down the moon and charged concession.

I had something beautiful to show you, but I think I lent it to someone.

Now I’m wondering whether I ever had it in the first place.

***

I still think this is such a beautiful song. I heard this group, The Good Lovelies, perform at National Folk Festival, they have other things on Youtube, you should check them out and their absolute astonishing harmonies.

My Brother is a QT

Okay so I have a younger brother, occasionally referred to as ‘bruv’ on this blog, known as Patrick, Patch, Patchy, Pat, Patty in real-life situations. Right now he’s in his terrible teens, he’s fourteen and the most annoying person you have ever met. EVER. I swear I wasn’t as awful as that when I was fourteen. Sometimes, however, you just have to remember the really, really cute times, and then use them to embarrass him.

So two such cute times that I find funny/cute.

1.       We had just seen the first Harry Potter film. It was around Christmas time in 2001 so I would have been *awkward mathematics moment* seven and Patch would have been four. So we come out of the theatre into the shopping centre and, because it’s Christmas, there’s a bit of a nativity scene thing going on. My brother looks at it for a little while and, with his shock of Weasley-eque red hair gleaming in the fluorescent lights, turns to my dad and asks, “Daddy, is that Harry Potter?”

Oh yes, all you people who billed Harry Potter as satanic and devil-

worshipping, my little brother mistook Baby Jesus for Harry Potter when he was four years old. IT WORKED.

2.       Remember primary school talent quests? I won one in year six with a bunch of girls from my class, we sang Joy to the World (Three Dog Night, not Christmas carol) with actions. My brother won one when he was in kindergarten. FOR BEING CUTE. -- There was this girl in his kinder class called Kaila. I like to think that they

were in love, even though he denies this profusely, even almost ten years after the event. (Still has a photo of them up on his notice board. I go in your room, Patch. I see these things.) Anyway, they were both tiny baby red-heads and the cutest things in the world. Patch and Kaila even spent a couple of afternoons at each other’s houses to practice for the Talent Quest. And on the big day they got up on stage, and Patch took out his kazoo, and Kaila sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and he did the accompaniment, and it was the cutest thing ever. 

               

Hope that made you smile! Anyways, it was better than Ben Tooth and the other year four boys stripping to It’s Getting Hot in Here. Ah Ben Tooth. Does anyone remember/know that guy? All the girls in year three thought he was shoooo attractive. A friend of mine caught the shirt he threw at the audience (while he was stripping to It’s Getting Hot in Here) and hugged it and I thought I was going to be sick.

What can I say? I was a very innocent eight-year-old AS ONE SHOULD BE. I saw a boy and suddenly was like EWW A BOY. BOYS' GERMS. I still do. I actually used to pretend I was physically allergic to boys so that they wouldn’t be my partner in lines to get into the Italian rooms in the morning. Typical Clare conversation in primary school:

                BOY:     Hey Clare. Can I be your partner for lines?

                ME:       Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I’m allergic to boys.

                BOY:     Oh sorry! I’ll stand over here then?

                ME:       That would be greatly appreciated.

Just putting it out there: no longer allergic to boys. Especially not Swedish ones. *Wink*

Love you like the good ol’ days of boys’ germs and Talent Quests and Baby Jesus.

X