Christmas Time

So it's Christmas now... about one hour into Christmas in Australia. I've just come back from my church's midnight service. I'm going to be moving (again) next year and this time, I'll be changing churches, too. Actually, I'll be living next door to a church. Actually, I'll be living on the church's property... so, of course, I'll be going to that church.

Which means goodbye current church.

Anyway, as much as I'm looking forward to it, I'm going to miss my current church a lot. I have a lot of history with that particular church, way back when I was a kid. Actually, tonight at the midnight Christmas service, I ran into an old babysitter of mine who I haven't seen in years.

I have a lot of friends there. A good community, too. It's very sad. It wasn't that long ago when I had to say "goodbye, possibly forever" to people from TAFE. I doubt it'll be "goodbye forever" to people from church because people know each other within the Christian community and I know I'll see them again in this life and the next. And I know where I can find them. But I basically grew up in that church. Most of my best growing-up memories are at that church. Some of my best grown-up memories are there, too.

I still have the whole of next month at that church, though, so it's not all happening yet. And unlike at TAFE where giving people proper goodbyes may be awkward and not always appropriate depending on my relationship with said people, I know that at church I can give proper goodbyes and they'll send me off with prayers and hugs.

And I believe that this is the move that God wants me to make.

And actually, this was a pretty crummy year in some ways, but looking back at it what overshadows the crappiness is that I can see how God has looked after me and guided me so I didn't have to find my way on my own. This house is part of that, too.

Anyway, goodnight. I'm sleepy and it's Christmas today.

Love Green.

The Issue with Casual Work

At the moment I have two casual jobs while I'm looking for a more regular full-time job. The problem with casual jobs is that they often change on you.

ORIGINAL PLAN:
Wednesday: job (2)
Thursday: job (1)
Friday: visit friend

So I go to job (2) on Wednesday and boss (2) asks me if I can come in tomorrow (Thurdsday) as well. I have job (1) on that day so I tell her no. She asks about Friday. I have social plans on Friday but I do need the work, I already felt bad for saying no to Thursday, and as much as I was looking forward to it, the social engagement is something that can be rescheduled.

After work Wednesday night I get a message from boss (1) saying that he won't have the work ready for me on Thursday after all, can I come in on Friday, instead? Now, I've already cancelled social engagement so I can go to job (2) and it's too late to reschedule job (2) to Thursday so I tell boss (1) that I can't and he'll have to wait until Monday.

So that means I have Thursday off even though I thought I was going to be working. But then on Thursday evening I get a call from boss (2) asking me they don't really need me on Friday after all, they didn't have as much work for me as they thought they did. Which means now that my Friday is free after all. I already told boss (1) that I can't come on Friday, so I decide to messsage my friend to see if she's up for un-cancelling. Quite reasonably, she already made alternative plans.

We've rescheduled, though, and maybe this time I will give the social engagement priority over work if either of them ask me to work on that day.

See You Later, Alligator... or not.

Just had my last day of TAFE and I can't help but feel sad about it. There may be some people I saw today that I may never see again, and it's like, a part of me wants to make some epic goodbye to these people I've known for a year, for some of them more, but my relationship with most of them isn't really sufficient enough for anything more than a regular "goodbye" to be appropriate, maybe a wave or a handshake at most. And I leave with a feeling that I haven't expressed myself to these people who have shared a stage or part of a stage of my life with me. Maybe I've gotten too attached to these people, many of whom are merely friendly aquaintances at best.

Truth is, many of them I will see again. Tomorrow, in fact, with the Awards Night. And who knows? Maybe I'll bump into them every now and then, but I can't really guarantee which ones I will see again and which ones I won't. Also, facebook makes it almost seem like goodbyes aren't as significant anymore because I might still be able to follow them on facebook and keep tabs on them, which is a bit of a double-sided coin. On one hand, it means that goodbye doesn't necessarily mean so long, but on the other hand, the goodbyes seem almost lessened, less significant, and I like my goodbyes, at least my "I won't see you later" goodbyes to be at least somewhat meaningful.

Speaking of "I won't see you later", that is one of my pet peeves, the term "See you later". Having said that, it's a term I use all the time myself. And I don't really mind it when I know I will see them later. But it's like, end of class, I go up to my teacher to say goodbye. I'm about to say, "I'll see you later" as I usually do at the end of class when suddenly it hits me that although it's possible that sometime in the future we may cross paths, it's not guaranteed and I may not, in fact, see him later. So I say, "Goodbye," instead. And, "And I might not see you later, this is my last year." And I tell him I appreciate his teachingness and all that stuff, and he says thanks and that he appreciates that and blah blah blah and then as I leave, he says, "See you later, Green."

And I'm thinking, NO, JUST SAY GOODBYE! WHAT IF I DON'T SEE YOU LATER? THEN IT MEANS THAT YOU'VE JUST LIED TO ME!!

In any case, I saw him again about two minutes later when I was with my friend who went to re-enroll next year and he was doing the re-enrollments so he hadn't in fact lied to me that time at all. Except that he said, "See you later," again when I left again. Humph.

I've occasionally fancied that on my death bed, my last words would be "See you later."

Anyway, there's the awards night tomorrow night and I'm going to say goodbye to some of the people who aren't necessarily my friends but who I am fond of. Some of the people will be going into the city to this pub afterwards and I'll go with them, so I can spend more time with these people who are only barely my friends before our association is doomed to the shallowness of facebook-following.

Bedtimes

So as I mentioned in my last post, I've traded my own family with a new one as a small step before setting out on my own. Except... the mother here is a little more mother than my own, and I feel slightly less independant than when I was with my own parents. Nothing that's a big deal, just... well, it's not so much that I'm not ALLOWED to stay up after midnight to watch TV, just that I feel a lot of pressure not to.

Whereas my own parents (although my dad would occasionally declare "bedtime" at anywhere between 8:30pm to 3:00am for no reason other than that he wanted to hog the TV - and I'd usually ignore him), my parents normally left me alone when it came to regulating my own bedtime.

Part of the reason, I think, is that I've taken a nap during the day on a couple of days, and Eel's assumed that that's because I didn't get enough sleep at night, but it's more that I walk everywhere, and it's summer, and the sun of the heat makes me sleepy, and when I've walked for a couple of hours out in the hot sun, when I get back to the house, I feel like taking a nap. It's nothing to do with how much sleep I got the night before.

Anyway, I am a guest and going to bed before midnight isn't that big of a deal, (and I have my computer set up in my room anyway so...) but I just think it's ironic that, in a baby-step of stepping out on my own, I feel slightly more regulated than I did when I lived with my parents.

What Are You Looking At?

Well, I've officially moved out of my parents' house... into another family's house! I've traded my family for a different one. For the time being. It's only temporary but it gives me a bit more time to find a more permanent place.

In case anyone was wondering what happened to the houses I mentioned in a previous post, I was almost going to move in to one of the houses when I just got a bad feeling about it. I didn't like the way the landlord was doing business, and so I kind of bailed at the last minute. A couple of times I wondered if it was the right thing to do, considering how cheap the rent was, but... well, there was a reason the rent was cheap, and I think I am a fairly good judge of character. But some family friends have offered to lend out their room for me for a couple of months, which gives me a bit more time to find a new place.

My mum probably would have moved out by now, too.

The family is a lovely one. Eel, the mother, has been lovely and welcoming. I haven't seen as much of Bike, the dad, since I moved in, today being the first day I've seen him at home. (He may have been around yesterday but I was out until late then.) Then there are the daughters, Cubby (who is finishing her first year of Uni) and Jet (who is nearing the end of year nine.) Then there is Millie, the dog, who has decided that she is my new best friend.

One thing I'm sad about, though, is that there's only one week left of TAFE, and what's worse, I don't plan on going back next year. I'm going to miss it sooo much! I'll miss the people there, the teachers, the classes, probably even the buildings... it's such a cool place to be. I recently got an email from a friend of mine who used to do the course and now is studying something else at Box Hill, and she said that while at Holmesglen everyone talked to each other and knew each other, and she felt welcomed and made friends, but at Box Hill she said there's no social equity, that it's all organised into cliques, and that she just hasn't been able get to know anybody. And I have felt that I've always been able to talk to people at TAFE, I have made some wonderful friends who I still am in contact with even though some of them are no longer doing the course, as well as those people who I probably won't stay in contact with but who have been a pleasure to know and have always been willing to hang out or chat. It is the latter that I'm going to miss, (as the former I can always make plans to see each other and visit each other.) It's those people who you like and get along with, but haven't quite gotten to know each other well enough to make plans outside of TAFE. This is what facebook is good for, I imagine, as I would still be able to stay in contact with many of them, but it's still not the same.

Yesterday was the booklaunch for our class to launch our book, "What Are You Looking At?" for Small Press Publishing, and we had John Safran (who contributed to the foreword) launch the book for us. The booklaunch was at Borders. Anyway, the teacher had given me a tray of sushi to offer to people, which I was doing when I saw John Safran arrive. I just happened to be the first to notice him arrive and so I approached him and offered him some sushi. He said, "Oh no! I just had that exact same thing downstairs. If only I had known!"

Anyway, they did the speeches and the launch and I went around getting my copy of the book autographed by the various authors in it, as well as John Safran. He writes on my book (in large, capital letters)

HELLO GREEN THANK YOU FOR OFFERING ME SUSHI. I WOULD HAVE HAD SOME BUT I'D JUST HAD SOME DOWNSTAIRS. (signed John Safran).

Afterwards some of us went to the city to celebrate at a pub, and it was fun. I didn't get back to my (new) home until just after midnight.

Arthur

Yeah, I know this show is for eight years old. Yeah, I'm twenty-five and I watch it. What of it?

And no matter what age you are, you've gotta love the opening theme song!

Today and stuff

I used to be good at writing interesting blogs (I think) I mean, before this blog. Now this blog it's all about, boo, my parents are splitting up! Boo, I need to find a place to live! Boo, I need a job! Bleh. Whatever. Boooring.

Not that it matters. I have, like, one person who looks at this blog. Maybe occasionally two. And I'm not sure if I really want more people to. I mean, maybe I do a little bit, but maybe there is one or two people who I might not want to read this blog. I mean, not that there's anything here that I would be required to ostracise myself from society if the wrong person looked at it, but... um... I dunno. Whatever.

So, uh... I'm not good at being interesting when I'm trying to be. I'm sleepy.

People keep saying that the more interviews I go to, the more confident I'll start to be in interviews. But I don't really get how being rejected after an interview makes me more confident about them.

I had some talky thingy today for class and I did my talky thingy as part of a group. It went okay, I think. I mean, at least, it didn't go horribly. When I picked my topic (earlier in the year) about what I was going to talk about, I was like, "Ooh, look at me being all controversial and brave!" And then as it got closer and closer, I was thinking, "This was a stupid idea and I only chose it in a moment of rebellion to demonstrate my difference to the majority of the people in the course and that's a stupid reason to pick a subject when I should've picked something that is actually informative and useful to the class." But whatever, I'd already chosen it and I didn't do enough research, anyway, because I'd been busy about worrying about stuff in my life and stuff, and so in the end it was probably a good idea that I picked something that I had some interest in because even when I got up there thinking I was completely unprepared and would have nothing to say but complete fluff, I found that I did have more to say about the topic than I thought I did and I don't know if any of it was actually informative and useful to anyone else, but standing up there and saying, "Yep, I didn't do enough research on this topic that could've been informative and useful" probably wouldn't have been much good to anyone else, anyway.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, our group had to do a presentation on non-fiction, and each member of our group focussed on a specific form of non-fiction, (except one who did a general overview) and I chose to do Christian non-fiction. Well, religious non-fiction so I also talked about the atheist books and stuff, but mostly concentrated on Christian non-fiction because that's what I knew and that's what was in my bookshelf. Anyway, the majority (although not all) of the people in the course are atheists and regularly ridicule Christianity.

The end.

Things are moving

Well, I guess things might be happening, soon. There are two houses that I'm looking at, and whereas I don't yet know whether the one I'm most interested in is going to be offered me, there is another one which I'm fairly sure I've got if I want it. So I guess things might be happening soon.

I'm also getting plenty of job interviews, so, if any of them go well, I might also be having a job, too. Unfortunately, job interviews aren't my strong suit but we'll see.

So... yeah, I guess it's happening. Good thing, too, because I was starting to run out of time to find a place.

Nothing's certain yet, but I feel a bit better about the situation than I did a couple weeks ago.

My Future

Well... life has been kind of stressful for me lately for various reasons. One of them is that I'll be forced to move in about a month's time, and I don't yet know where I'm going to be living or who I'm going to be living with. I do know that, no matter what, the details of my life are going to change. I don't know how, but it definately will.

None of my options are ideal but I do have a couple.

1. Live with Mum.
This has a couple of pros but one big con. It's far away from my life and stuff I care about. She's moving far away out into the country. I visited the house she's going to buy and it's a really nice place. There's two bedrooms. She even mentioned that if I did live with her, I could have the master bedroom (since she won't need it and there's not much room elsewhere where I could keep my computer. She uses a laptop) which is really generous of her. It's even aross the road from this all-purpose convenience store. It's a nice place to live, and I wouldn't hate it. Living with mum would be really nice, too... but I'd have to leave my life, and I'm not quite willing to do that.

2. Live with Dad.
Okay, this isn't really an option and I've already decided against this. Dad's moving to Sydney, even further away than mum is, and to probably somewhere not as nice. Nor do I even get along with my dad that well. I love him, but he's a very stressful person to live with. The one benefit to this is that it's geographically closer to my brother, but it's not like I'm that emotionally close to my brother or anything, and I'd just be trading proximity to one sibling for proximity to another.

3. Live with my sister.
My sister and her husband have kindly offered me space in their house until I can get my own place. They have a spare room I can use, and one of the most tempting parts of their offer is their electronics and gaming system. The other is that they live in Melbourne. Unfortunately, they live at the wrong side of Melbourne, which means that commuting to places where I have commitments might, unlike the previous two options, be plausible, it'd also be extremely inconvenient and problematic. The other concern is that although I'd have no issues with taking advantage my parents's hospitality, who are my parents, staying with my married sister, I'd feel like a bit of a burden. In any case, it'd be a temporary arrangement most likely and this may be the best option in the short term if I don't get any better options.

4. Find my own place.
This is the one I'm hoping for but it is also one that I don't know if it will be on the table on time. Until recently, this was impossible since I did not have a large enough income to support myself, to pay for my own food let alone pay rent. I have recently started being on the dole, however. (One of the other things I have been stressed about lately.) So now I'm getting some money from the government, it's a matter of finding a place that is both cheap enough and close enough to public transport that I can get to places I need to get to. It's also scary. I have no experience in how much it does actually cost to eat and buy stuff, or any of that stuff that most adults probably should know about, as I've never had to take care of that kind of stuff and there's a good chance I'm going to bad at it.

Bringing Back Memories

Yesterday our church had a special "Horizon" service. Horizon is their sports-and-outdoors ministry. They have netball and futsal teams that play against other teams and stuff like that, and also organise the outdoors stuff like hiking and skiing for those who are interested.

So yesterday they had a football day followed by the "special Horizon service" which took place of the regular evening service. I didn't go to the football thing but I did go to the service, which had an emphasis on "goals" and "athletics". They also looked at Timothy where it says stuff about goals and reaching for the prize or something.

They framed the service to relate to people who are into sports and appreciate athletics and competition. In other words, not me.

And halfway during the service, I got a flashback of my own athelitics-related traumatic memory that could very well be the source of my aversion to be a part of any formalised competetion to do with physical ability!

I was about seven or eight years old and it was one of those school athletic days where our school was competing against other schools. I had never been a sporty person, always preferring to stay indoors reading a book than be outdoors and running. But the teachers would put a lot of pressure on the students to compete, and I was one of those kids who took things that teachers said seriously. Not that I was a suck-up and wanted to impress the teachers or anything like that, but because I was a "true believer" and took to heart everything that adults told me. So when they urged the students to "support the school" and to have "school spirit" and all that rubbish, I took it to heart and considered it a duty to do that which I would normally choose not to, and to try my best.

So I participated in the relay race. And when I had the baton, I ran and ran, I ran as fast as I could which, although I knew wasn't very fast at all, it was faster than I had ever ran before. I was actually enjoying it, getting excited, thinking that I probably wasn't doing too bad! I had no idea how well I was doing compared to the competitors, I'm pretty sure I was completely oblivious to them, being completely absorbed in my own running, feeling that this was the best running I had ever done in my life. I get to the end and passed the baton on, where immediately I am confronted by one of my righteous team-members, who immediately begins lecturing me about how, as part of a team where others were relying on me, I should have at least put an effort into my running and how I should be ashamed of myself for not really even trying and how I let the team down.

I remember that from that moment, I told myself that I'd never, ever let a teacher use "school spirit" and "duty" to guilt me into participating in one of those athletic days, whether it was an external thing against other school or an internal thing against team houses. I didn't care. I had ever since been adverse to any kind of formalised competition, as well as to running. I also, perhaps unjustly since (with the exception of one other non-sports related incident where, again, she was being self-righteous and telling me off about something that she didn't understand) she never did anything to me that I could criticise in the coming years, I had a strong dislike of that girl. (Her going out with the boy I had a crush on in highschool probably didn't help, either, actually.)

On a brighter note, they talked about the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt, which always twinges my heartstrings.

Writer's Sports

So I mentioned I'd write about writer's sports so... it was fun! Lots of games, lots of lowbrow humour and making fun of the teachers... it was first years vs second years vs teachers vs all-stars (all-stars being those who don't really fit into any of the three previous categories). I played for second-years (although, actually, I only participated in one game) and second-years won! Wooo! (Just so you know, the teachers never win.)

This sememster it was organised and run by a couple of the students (because I guess the teachers decided to stop doing it or something? I'm not sure), Mullet and Mace, who are also in my Small Press Publishing class. (Mullet doesn't actually have a mullet.) But... anyway, the games, (which were things like short story relay - that was the one I participated in - writing limericks based on a picture - other stuff that they only had a short amount of time to come up with) were lots of fun. On one game, one of the guys, Psychic, burst out in song of "Every sperm is sacred" by Monty Python (he had to write a speech for the Catholic Mothers against Condoms party) which everyone proceeded to join in.

The after-party is probably worth mentioning, too, mostly because I got to meet and talk to a couple of people who I had seen around but hadn't had a chance to talk to, before. Plus an odd comment from Mace which probably didn't mean anything.

Random stuff and Magic

Not much to report. Well... I have Writer's Sports tonight at my TAFE! It's a bit like Theatre Sports but with writing instead of theatre. I'm anticipating some fun so I'll let you know how it goes, although I haven't decided if I want to compete, yet, or not. I'm sure you'd be interested in hearing about non-church related activities for once.

I've been invited to a party on Saturday but I haven't decided if I want to go, yet, or not. I probably won't decide until on the day.

I'm also going to this... women's afternoon tea thing on Sunday. And, yes, it's a church-related activity.

Well, I guess that's it. I just felt like blogging right now. There are going to be people going through the house today, as there seems to be every now and then what with the house being on sale. To be honest, it kind of stresses me out, having strangers wander through the house and looking in my room while I'm feeling self concious about the holes in my unflattering places in my trackies but still being too lazy to bother getting dressed in my outside-in-public clothes, and me being too stressed to do something relaxing OR to do homework!

My bosses are in Vanuatu at the moment so I don't have any work for this week, either.

Oh, I've also been playing this game, Academagia which is a lot of fun, and yet I'm not sure if I'd recommend it to others. It's just that you do have to buy it but it doesn't come with a Free-Trial or Demo version like most casual games these days, so it's a bit of a gamble and I don't think it'd be for everyone. I decided to give it a go, I've been trying to save money lately but I did have my very first payment not that long ago for my new job, and so I thought I'd treat myself.

And it's really intimidating at first, you're throw straight in the deep end and the amount of information that you come across is overwhelming, not being quite sure which info is important that you need to pay attention to and remember, which information is just world-building, and which information is okay to wait until later for you to get familiar with it, with most of the gameplay you're having to work out yourself. It's probably a good thing that there isn't a demo version because no one would buy it with how intimidating it is at the beginning. Not that if you did buy it, you'd regret it, because having spent money on it, you're more invested in giving it a go, which means you'll push through that initial information overload, and once you get the hang of it, it's immensely fun and the replayability factor is immense, with so much to learn about the world and the characters that you couldn't possibly discover playing through only once, and so many ways to play.

Is there an echo in here?

What with my parents' situation, I'm actually being told everything twice. Once by mum, then by dad, just in case mum didn't tell me. I know I can't really blame them, but it does get a bit annoying after a while.

And... did I say I'm being told everything twice? I actually meant four times, since dad doesn't trust me to remember what I've already been told and feels the need to remind me twice again, and also in unnecessary detail.

My Weekend

I mentioned in the last post that I had an enjoyable weekend, so I thought I might blog about it in more detail.

Saturday was good because I visited a friend I hadn't seen in a while and we played video games, and it was a lot of fun! And then I went to the Saturday church service.

Then on Sunday, in the morning I went to church. The service was a good one. The plan was to afterwards go out to lunch somewhere with Gem from church, but then Yew* was there and he was trying to gather a few people to go out for lunch as a group, so Gem and I decided to go with them, and then another guy, Meerkat said, come to my house instead and I'll cook a heapload of chicken for you!

So a bunch of us went to Meerkat's house and most of us stopped to buy something to contribute to the meal on the way (Gem and I bought bread) and once we got there, we all had a job to do, chopping vegetables or slicing chicken or whatever... (I was slicing chicken) and we all sat down to eat and talked and it was heaps better than going out to eat because it was cheaper and because we all contributed to the meal it was really cool. There is a lot of significance in sharing a meal together, particularly for Christians, and especially when everyone had a part in preparing it.

But because of all that cooking Gem and I were late for the next part of the day that we had planned, which was to go to the synchrotron open day! (and it didn't really make any difference that we were late because the open day lasted all day, just that we had planned to get there by 1:30 but instead we got there by 2) so after lunch we left to go to the synchrotron, and we did a self-guided tour, and we ran into our friend (also from church but not from the morning service) who works there, and a couple of other people also from church who just also happened to be interested in coming to the open day! All the sciency stuff was cool but don't ask me to explain it to you.

Then after that Gem and I met up with a couple of other friends and we went to the movies and saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, which I have to say, I loved! And then again, we went straight to evening church. (Yes, I did go to church three times during the course of the weekend, what of it?) Evening church was good and we had the commissioning of one of our members who is going to go to Spain for ministry purposes, so that was a little bittersweet.

There was also soup and cookies and party pies at church.

So yeah, it was a good day! And when I wrote my last post I did mention dad almost ruining it, but he didn't. Because now when I think about my weekend I don't think about dad being grumpy. I think of all the fun I had.

And now... I should probably go to bed.


*(who I should mention I am no longer infatuated with, I have successfully moved on, and he has started dating this other girl who is a totally cool person and there's nothing about that relationship I can criticise.)

Ugh!

Truth is, I didn't have a great week this week. Partly because of my cold, a lot because dad's been in a really mean mood lately and has a tendency of spreading his mean mood on to others. But I had an awesome weekend, which might have made up for my un-awesome week, until I got home on Sunday night and dad was close to ruining the end of my weekend, too. >:(

facebook

...

Dad's just changed his facebook status to "single".

That word

Being raised by Christian parents, having gone to a Christian school, having grown up going to church, saying "amen" after someone else says "amen" is just automatic. The word is Hebrew for "I agree", so saying "amen" after someone else has prayed is saying, "Yes, I agree with what they have just said, I am adding my voice to theirs." So I try and make it a concious thing of saying "amen" when someone else prays, that when I say amen, I try and make sure I've understood and is comfortable with what they have said. If I don't like something they've said, I'll try not to say that word. And when I do say it, I say it out loud, so that I can be heard, so as to publicly give my support to the person who said the prayer.

I say that if there's something that doesn't sit well with me, I try not to say it. It is a concious thing when I say that word, but it's also built into me and partly an automatic response, like I might start saying it before my mind has finished processing what the other person prayed, which most of the time isn't a problem because I wouldn't choose to be part of a religious community which teaches things that I don't agree with, and so the people who I pray with tend to be people who have the same basic, fundamental beliefs and values as me.

I've been borrowing some DVDs from a friend of mine. There's this one show that she's been lending me called "Big Love", about a polygamist surburban mormon family. It's an interesting show, interesting characters, etc. and one of the things I like about the show is that the actual show itself doesn't impose a value judgement on that lifestyle. The characters in the show do, but not the show itself.

Anyway, I don't subscribe to mormonism. I don't believe it is Christianity, although just like any other religion that isn't my own, I don't disrespect mormons, either. I watch it because it's an interesting show, just like I might watch a show about characters that are atheist, or agnostic, or muslim, or Jewish, or Hindu, or Buddhist etc. if it's an interesting show. But the family in this show might gather around to pray, the father prays something or other, says "amen" and the rest of his family says "amen", and I'm sitting there, watching this show on the couch on my own, watching these fictional people pray about their fictional lives about some thing that I wouldn't subscribe to even if it wasn't fictional, the characters say "amen" and, without thinking, without even being aware that I'm about to say it, I say "ame-uh... I mean... crap."

Saturday Service

The church I'm going to has recently just started having a service on Saturdays as well as the three on Sundays. It's designed to be a cross-generational service. Not that the others aren't, it's just that the trend tends to be mostly elderly in the 8am service, families and children in the 10:30am service, and young adults, mostly childless, going to the 6pm service. It's just that the way the different services are run and the times that they are on suit those particular groups the best. This is partly intentional, I think, so that there's a service to suit most groups of people who come to church, but someone must've thought it'd be nice to have a Saturday service and make it cross-generational so the different generations can worship together. It's a good idea that encourages community. So I thought I'd come along and check it out. It was really nice, and fun, and different, and a lot less formal than the usual Sunday services. There were lots of kids but, unlike in the 10:30am service where the send the kids off to Sunday school while their parents listen to the adult service, the adults and the kids stayed in the same service, worshipped, and listened to the same message together. It was really nice.

So they did a lot during the service that was just for the kids, but I think the adults enjoyed watching the kids and playing along, too, I think. It might be easy for an adult to feel like the service was too kiddy, but for the sake of the community and supporting what they were trying to do, most of the adults just allowed themselves to enjoy it, including the ones who didn't have kids like myself. At least, that's what I did, and that's what I imagine most of the adults did. That's what the spirit of the service seemed to be like.

Also, after they had the stuff that was for the kids they got these paper plates and got the kids to draw on them (it was related to what the message was) while the pastor spoke the message to the adults, although still simple enough that the kids could follow while they drew their pictures, but more relatable for the adults than the stuff they were doing just for the kids before, while the kids were kept quiet while they drew. Afterwards they got the kids to come up and show and talk about their pictures, along with their really cute and funny answers that kids always have.

I thought it was really nice how they went about doing this, how they made it so the adults and kids could worship together with their families without sending the kids off to their seperate lessons, and also for the childless people who were there who can also worship with the kids and the parents and grandparents, too, all different people in different times in their lives, together in one community, and I think I'll go back next week, too.

I'm still going to the 6pm service every week on Sundays as I usually do and will also occasionally go to the 10:30am service every now and then as I sometimes do (I've yet to visit the 8am service - a little too early for a Sunday morning!) but I really like what they're doing at the Saturday service and would like to support it!

Torchlight

I've been wanting to update my blog but haven't really been sure what I wanted to write about. That is, there have been plenty of things that have happened that I could write about and have thought about writing about, but ended up deciding against it for one reason or another.

One thing I'm happy to write about is this game I've become addicted to, Torchlight. It's very similar to Diablo in gameplay but without giving me nightmares of demons slaughtering my family. (No, I didn't find Diablo scary when I played it but some of the imagery occasionally seeped into my sleep. I had to force myself to stop playing it.) Instead of some hidden catacombs underneath a church where generations of demons have been breeding for centuries unbeknownst to the surrounding town, it's a recently discovered mine of some magical ore where monsters have recently been emerging from some ancient civilization, or something? Anyway, same gameplay as Diablo but the imagery is less religious, which makes it for more relaxed and less blasphemous play on my part. And it has its own unique charm, too, is even a little steampunky at times which I love!

What Torchlight has been giving me is, if not nightmares, then headaches. It is an issue with me when I get addicted to a computer game. I spend too much time playing it and all that time focussing intently on a computer screen gives me headaches. It's always a toss-up for me when I have to decide whether getting a headache is worth another hour or so of fun, addicting play. I might take it a bit easier, today, but we'll see how I go. (Just so you know, I am on holidays at the moment.)

Hm... another thing I could write about is that I'm going to my sister's tomorrow and then staying there until the end of the weekend. I'm very excited, I can't wait to play on her X-box and her Playstation 3 on her hi-def widescreen TV... oh, and to spend time with my sister, of course... :p

Actually, the reason I'm going over is to housesit so I can look after her gorgeous cat and her birds, but she's invited me to come over a couple of days earlier so we can spend some time together before she and her husband go away. It's also her birthday on Monday, so tomorrow (Thursday) Mum, my sister, her husband and I are going to go out for dinner, although I don't know where, yet.

mums are girls and dads are boys

I had a pretty good day today, overall. My good friend, jestar goes to this mother's group and she was saying how the place needed more helpers to look after the kids while the mothers talked, and so invited me to come along so I could be a helper. I decided to come along and I got a lot out of the experience. I think I will continue volunteering there for the time being while my Thursdays are free.

I don't really understand people who don't like kids. Is frustrated by kids, is confounded by kids, is worn out by kids, is overwhelmed by kids, is scared of kids, does not relate to kids, is not good with kids, yeah, those are all things I get. Don't like kids? How is that possible? These creatures, all completely human creatures, all possessing human genius and imagination, but who have not learned to be held back by self-imposed social restrictions.

They were all beautiful, each in their own individual way.

One highlight:

Girl1: Did you know... I'm a girl, and my mum's also a girl!
Me: Yeah?
Girl2: Yeah! And, and, my mum's also a girl, and I'm a girl, too!
Girl1: But my dad's a boy.
Girl2: Yeah, my dad's a boy, too.
Girl1: I think it's because mums are girls and dads are boys.
Me: That's very true. I also have a mum who is a girl and a dad who is a boy.

Afterwards I went back with jestar to her house and hung out with her. She's a wonderful friend and I love spending time with her. It was a pretty good day.

However, not so good is that today mum was saying that I might have to choose between going to Castlemaine with her, or Sydney with dad, if I can't find a way to support myself so I can stay in Melbourne.

Which sucks.

Dreams

I had lots of fragmented dreams last night, as a result of a fragmented sleep, probably a result of sleeping on the floor of a different house. I can't really remember the earlier ones, but the last one was that I was a stealthy assassin. And there was also one where something was happening, I don't remember what, but then I decided I would start flying, so I started flying, and then I said to myself, "I forgot I could lucid-dream!" and then I started flying through glass windows, because when I lucid-dream, I fly through glass windows. Because flying and being able to go through glass seem to be my lucid-dreaming super powers.

My week

Saturday: Went to a 21st. It was a lot of fun, got to chat with some friends, as well as met a couple of people for the first time.

Sunday: Went to a friend's house after her husband got into a car accident. And also went to church.

Today: I'm at my friend's house while my mum's giving her husband a lift to the hospital. My friend is lying with her toddler until he gets to sleep. I will stay the night and walk to class in the morning from here.

Wednesday: Going to hang out with a (different) friend after class and then going to go to bible study.

Saturday: Going to the city to meet up with some friends I know from the internet. I've met them in person once before. One of them is from America.

Sunday: There's some open forum happening before church, something about gender equality from a biblical/Christian perspective, I think, which sounds interesting, so I think I will go to that. Then, church.

The baby's still not asleep. I have a feeling it may be a long night.

Just stuff

I feel like updating, but not really sure what to blog about. Well, one thing I could blog about is this game/story-telling program that I'm really getting into. I won't explain what it is, here, but you can check it out at this site. I'll tell you one thing, it's really fun! Also, time-consuming when I should be doing my myths and symbols homework, instead.

Church has become the highlight of my week. I've only really been going recently since the end of last year, to be honest, I went through a phase when I was being really lazy about church for a few years before then, there were a couple of reasons, but not really ones that were "good enough" to not go to church. I have always known that church was an important part of my relationship with God, but it's too easy to get lazy about it. Recently I decided to stop being lazy about it, and I'm glad because that decision has been bringing me a lot of joy.

So... yeah, church is basically the highlight of my week. I remember when it was the highlight of my week before my "lazy period", too.

There is a birthday party I'm going to this weekend, which I'm looking forward to. And then another one a fortnight from then.

I'm trying to not like a certain fellow so much, (not that he doesn't deserve my interest, but that he doesn't seem to share it, and I don't want to go through that whole "unrequited infatuation" thing that has always been my lot in life.) It's hard when he goes around being a remarkable person and then when a group of people decide to go out for dinner after church (it's an evening service) the one person there who knows about my feelings is all like, "Oh, you can sit on the couch bit if you want (metaphorical wink)," which happens to be right next to where he's already sitting. Hmmf.

Lots of people are having babies. Or have just had babies.

I should probably be doing homework right now.

Until next time.

Approach to Prayer

I was reading this blog entry about praying, and it got me thinking about different attitudes a person can have towards prayer.

I think it's hard to know what the right attitude one needs for prayer; I find it to be a process of constant tweaking throughout a person's life, when they realise, hang on, this isn't necessarily the best approach to prayer, I need to be more humble. Then, later on, hang on, I don't always trust all my troubles to God, I need to be more open. But I think the more one prays, even if your praying might not start out with the best approach, the more God can do that tweaking and growing of you, the more your prayers will be aligned with God's desires?

When I was much younger and more foolish than now, I prayed to God that "[a certain boy] would start liking me and want to date me, and that in return, I would always put this much of my pocket money in the collection bowl in church; and actually, no, I will do that anyway, because I know I'm not supposed to bargain with you like that, and if it's something I should be doing I should do it, anyway, instead of trying to withold from you because I want something so I'm sorry please forgive me but could you make this boy like me, anyway? I really really want him to. Amen."

Or something along those lines.

During and after I had prayed that I knew the prayer was just wrong. It felt wrong and I felt really guilty about it. But even in the praying of it God was teaching me about prayer. God also answered that prayer pretty much immediately. The most immediate answer to prayer that I had ever gotten. The answer was, "No, I'm not going to force him to like you." Very clearly. It wasn't anything that happened that gave me a sign, it was pretty much just a resounding "No" that I felt inside of me, and I knew not to make a prayer like that, again. Perhaps I should've prayed: I'm lonely, I really like this guy, I'm struggling with feelings of frustration/rejection/uncertainty, please help me through this, and come to terms with the situation, regardless of what happens or doesn't happen.

Anyway, this issue has come up again more recently in my life, although in a slightly different context. It has to do with my parents. They are splitting up. When I was first told about this, I was devastated. I went to take it to God and I was at a lost at what I should pray. There were two approaches I could see:

A) Pray that they work it out and don't split up. After all, God never celebrates when a marriage is broken up. But would that just be another case of trying to get God to impose what I want onto a situation, and deluding myself into thinking they might still stay together?

B) Pray that they'll both find happiness and forgiveness, regardless of what happens, and that I can find acceptance and peace with the situation. Them breaking up might not be a good thing but it's happening and so I have to handle the situation for what it is. But by accepting the situation, am I not trusting God enough to be able to heal their marriage, no matter how unlikely it seems right now?

I'm not saying one approach is better than the other. Probably one approach IS better than the other, but I don't know which one. I don't think it's wrong to tell God what you want, desire, hope for, but I think there's a difference between sharing and being honest with God with what's on your heart, and telling God so he can fulfill them for you. But I don't really know. I worry about using prayer to impose my will, instead of using it to fulfill God's will. It is a balance in prayer that I often struggle with.

God's will be done. Amen.

cliques and cliches

I wonder if highschool in America is really like how they show on American TV and movies, in the sense that there is a "goth" group, and a "preppy" group, and a "nerd" group, and a "jock and cheerleader" group. Maybe it's because we had to wear school uniforms or something, but highschool was never like that for me. Yeah, we had different groups forming but they weren't founded on cliches. I don't remember a "goth" group or a "nerd" group... and playing sports didn't make anyone cooler and being smart didn't make anyone less cool. Or maybe it did and I was just oblivious to it all?

And it's not like the "goths" or "jocks" or "nerds" mixed, it was as simple as no one identified themselves or each other with those labels. I don't even think I learned what a "jock" was until after I left highschool.

Does anyone have an experience of high school that WAS anything like it's portrayed on TV? Or is it just the people who write TV shows who think highschool is like that? Was my highschool an exception? Or is it just in America where they aren't required to wear school uniforms?

Your Karma Ran Over My Dogma

MY PET PEEVE: Karma.

I don't have anything against the idea of Karma itself, it's just the way people who have little understanding of it seem to throw it around like their mantra. I've even had a devoted atheist (devoted to their atheism, that is) tell me they believe in Karma. If a devoted Hindu person spoke to me about Karma, it would not bother me. I suppose I don't even mind (that much) how Westerners seem to have adopted the word to fit their own meaning.

(I don't really know that much about karma, so I could be wrong, but from what I understand of it is that it's something that may take lifetimes before consequences manifest, I find it interesting the way that Westerners seemed to have Big Macced it - it's more about Instant Gratification than anything of real substance.)

No, language evolves and we adopt different words to fit our meaning. It used to annoy me more than it does, but I've gotten past that aspect. The thing that annoys me is the way that, when somebody complains about that jerk of a co-worker, they, or their friend who's trying to make them feel better by validating their complaints, makes a comment like, "Don't worry, Karma will get them." Or, "I hope they get a taste of their own Karma!"

What happens to others as a result of their actions has little to do with me, and I have better motivations for trying to do right and not doing wrong than hoping or fearing that it will come back to me. I don't believe in Karma, but even if I did, taking satisfaction in imagining that Karma will avenge your petty grievances seems unworthy of the concept.

Another thought:

When I hear somebody say "God will punish you!" I flinch. It goes against my sensibilities as a follower of God to think that a human can be so arrogant to command God or even anticipate his wrath. For someone who claims to follow the ways of Karma, isn't just as grating to say, "Karma will get you!"?

My Day

So I spent part of my day listening to people mock my religion. That was fun. I'm not complaining, though, it's not anything I can't handle, or don't expect.

Also, there's this lady in my class who I haven't really talked to or know at all, but judging from the things she says in the class, she seems to be a really nice and intelligent person, so it's occurred to me that perhaps it might be worthwhile seeking to have a conversation with this person at some stage.

What else? Oh, yes, I got my head rubbed today.

The end.

Heaven and Hell and Random Thoughts

As a child, I had certain images of both Heaven and Hell. I'll start with Hell. This might sound odd, but I used to imagine Hell to be like a hot bath. This was an image I had conjured up from somewhere when I was about seven years old when I was imagining what Hell was like. It was not something that was given to me by someone else, although obviously the idea of heat was from the traditional idea of Hell. But what's so bad about a hot bath, you ask? Aren't hot baths generally pleasant?

Of course, Hell was not just any kind of hot bath, it was a hot bath that you didn't get used to. You see, at that age when Mum would draw me a bath, the water was always a little bit hotter than what was comfortable for me. However, I'd get in slowly, and my body would eventually adjust to the heat, or as I would put it at that age, "I'd get used to it." Then, the heat would be pleasant, then the water would cool down and I'd sit in the bath for ages not wanting to get out because it was too cold when I got out and my fingers would get all wrinkly.

But the point is... my idea of hell was like a bath that was always too hot, a bath that you wouldn't adjust to.

It seems like a tame idea of hell but I suppose my view of Hell hasn't changed so much. It's not based on heat anymore, but there are plenty of unpleasant things on Earth that you can get used to. You can get used to loneliness, or abuse, or hardship, or heat, or cold, or pain, if you're experiencing it long enough. Some of those things are not things that is necessarily a good thing to get used to, but a lot of the time people experiencing these things learn to live with it if they have to. They get used to it, however unpleasant they might be. Hell is not something I understand a lot about as a Christian, but I mostly believe that Hell is the absence of God. And I suppose I believe that being in complete absence of God, and having full comprehension of that absence, well, you wouldn't get used it.

My view of heaven at seven years old was if a slightly different nature. I imagined it as a place where I could have whatever I wanted, and did whatever I wanted. And at that age, the thing I wanted more than anything else was an infinite source of magic paper, that whatever I drew on it would become real. So when I would pine over the fact that this paper does not yet exist, I would console myself with, "I'll get it when I'm in heaven."

I went to a Christian school where they would have an assembly every Friday morning. I remember one such assembly where they had a guest speaker who was very passionate about heaven. I suspect he may not have really thought about what was the best thing to say to kids to get them passionate, however. But he talked about his own vision of heaven, and I always remembered it.

He said that God would be there, and he'd be like, let me show you something really awesome, and God would open up his coat to show some imaginary thing that was hidden underneath his coat (and I often imagined God to be wearing a trenchcoat for years afterwards whenever I thought of heaven), and God would show us this awesome thing, and then we'd be so awe-struck and astounded that we would praise God for a thousand years. And just when that thousand years was up and we were winding up our praise for God, God would say, "Let me show you something else," and he'd show us another thing that was hidden underneath his coat, and we would be so awe-struck and astounded that for another thousand years, we would be worshipping God. And just when that second thousand years ended, God would say... well, you get the picture. This would go on for eternity.

And you can imagine what I, a seven-year old girl was thinking, that spending a thousand years to eternity gawking over something I didn't even know what it was, yet, I wouldn't have any time to draw on my magic paper.

I was disappointed, but I was also a faithful little girl and I told myself that I just didn't get it, yet, that I knew that Heaven would be fun. And if that's what we'd be doing in Heaven, well, we'd have fun doing it. And for some reason, this image stuck with me.

Now that I'm older I think I understand better what the man was talking about, and why he was so excited about his view of heaven, an excitement I couldn't comprehend at the time. I had to change my thinking a bit to understand it, though. Instead of thinking about what I could get to do in heaven, I needed to try and imagine what was so wonderful that could make me sing out in joy for a whole thousand years. A thing that could excite me for a whole thousand years that I could do nothing but sing and dance out in joy the whole time is incomprehensible to me, but that was what it was to look forward to Heaven, to find out what that thing is. And I don't think it's something that God is hiding under his trenchcoat, but I think it will be God's majesty itself, in all its glory. I think that because I sometimes feel it while on Earth, that sense of being in awe of God, a desire to grow closer to God and to be in God's presence. This is Heaven's reward, and it is hard for people who do not have this desire to understand what is so great about it, which is very similar to why I didn't understand what was so great about this man's view of heaven when I was seven.

A person once told me that no matter how good a thing is, one will eventually be tired of it, even existence. That is why if there was a Heaven, if it was for eternity, it would eventually turn into Hell, because one would grow sick of existence. I don't believe this, though, because the bible tells us that there will be no weariness in Heaven, and boredom is a kind of weariness. Getting sick of something is a kind of weariness. It is hard to imagine because we only have our earthly bodies as reference, but it will be a different kind of existence, one that we cannot yet comprehend. I was thinking about this earlier today, and it occurred to me, Heaven and Hell have one thing in common. You see, I believe that Heaven is being in the complete presence of God, and the thing about being in the complete presence of God, is that you don't get used to it.

Dreaming and Intelligence

I had a dream about this boy, he was mistreated and abused and grew up to be like an animal. Less than an animal, even. He had no emotions and no cognitive intelligence, he was a human-shaped creature and full of aggression. It wasn't his fault, he was destined to be like this. Then I dreamed of his death, and the Grim Reaper came for him. The Grim Reaper saw that he never had a chance and took pity on him, and gave him not only a second chance at life, but gifted him with emotions and intelligence, and adopted him. He was a strange thing, with a mind and a heart and an existence that came from Death.

I don't know how or if the dream relates to this, but I woke up remembering something that somebody asked me, once. It had something to do with whether or not I had some kind of mental disability, or abnormality, or something. He wasn't being mean, he was asking nicely out of genuine curiosity, and admitted that it was something he had wondered about.

It is something that I sometimes wonder about. He is not the first person to have wondered that, and I have also found out that in my early school years, my teachers were concerned and wanted to test me. Mum insisted that there was nothing wrong with me. They did some behavioural tests, to see how I understood and followed instructions, and when I did very well, Mum insisted they not test me further.

Today I woke up wondering with the idea that it might be worth making an appointment with a psychologist and finding out for sure. I probably won't get around to doing it, though.

To Grow or Not To Grow...

I was just thinking that my blog is a little bit boring. Was just reading another blog and thinking how much personality comes through in the blog. I don't think mine is like that. I used to be better at blogging but... I don't know. Maybe I just need to try harder.

I have to say, I'm really loving my new hairstyle. It's so user-friendly! I don't have to brush it, and it dries almost instantly after a shower (instead of the usual hundred years it used to take to dry.) It's light and cool and comfortable, I don't know why I didn't decide to shave my head a long time ago! A part of me wondered if I was going to miss my hair, but I DON'T! AT ALL!

There's only one reason I can think of for growing my hair out again. Well, no, there's two reasons, the second being that I'll probably just get lazy and not bother to keep it short and forget about it. The first reason is a kind of a silly, shallow, silly reason... and it's that it seems to me that a lot of the male members of our species like long hair on girls. Also, I'm not particularly feminine with or without hair. I'm a bit of a tomboy, I mostly wear jeans, and although I certainly have a female shape and I'm not likely to be mistaken for someone who's not female, I guess my long hair was always a part of me that was feminine. Even if I never really did much with it but tie it back in a ponytail.

That's the main reason I can think of for deciding to grow it long again, as much as my hair was a pain, but it's not like it's going to make much of a difference in my life in that regard, anyway. It still has a bit to grow before I need to make that decision.

Worship

I went to Phillip Island this weekend and I got back today. It was really good, the focus of the weekend was worship, and we learned two different Hebrew words for worship - hawa, which means "facedown" worship, it is what someone does when they realise they are in the presence of greatness. It is being in awe, speechless. In order to experience this for God, one has to know God, in order to recognise His greatness. Like seeing a celebrity in the street, if you don't know who the celebrity is or recognise them as a celebrity, it does not do much for you.

The second word we learned was abad - to work, to serve, to honour, to surrender, to worship. This is being a living sacrifice to God, where every aspect of your life is given to God, for God. When you are at work, you do your work in honour of God. When Adam was placed in the garden of Eden to tend the garden, the word abad was used to mean work. His work was an act of worship.

Phillip Island, Arthritis Awareness Week

I'll be going to Phillip Island on the weekend. I was talking to my Uncle on Skype the other day, and he said, "Isn't it a bit early to go to Phillip Island?" and I said, "I'm pretty sure Phillip Island exists all year round." He was thinking of the Motorcycle Grand Prix, I suppose, which my (direct) family goes to every year.

I'm going for this church thing, and without my family. I'll tell you how it goes, if I feel like it.

By the way, it's arthritis awareness week this week, and a friend of mine who I went to highschool with has recently started a blog about living with rheumatoid arthritis. It's worth having a look at. She's the same age as me, that is, in her twenties.

Naked Head

Yesterday, I shaved my head. There were some friends over who witnessed it and made it fun. Now that it's happened and over and done with... I feel good about it. I have no regrets. It feels like a weight has been stripped away. I'm still getting used to seeing my reflection, though, although it's growing pretty fast. Twenty-four hours ago my head was smooth. Today, my head is fuzzy and my hair are all tiny little pins which hurt my head when I run my hand over it. (Yet I can't help myself- it feels so fuzzy!) and when I wear this beanie that my friend got me, the hair sticks to the wool so that when I remove the beanie, it's like pulling apart velcro.

Anyway, it's growing on me. (Get it? Growing on me? Hair?) I mean, the look is growing on me. Not that I intend to keep it this way, I still plan on letting it grow (although maybe keep it a bit shorter than I had it before from now on.) But I don't mind it. It's different.

People are telling me I pull bald off pretty well. Which is good to know, considering I just shaved all my hair off.

Chamelion Ring

I had some dreams last night/this morning. I've forgotten most of it but I'll mention what I remember...

There was a man, I suspect he may have actually been somebody I know but I don't remember who, although he could have just been some random dream-man my mind made up - but he gave me a ring, I was worried he was proposing to me, but decided that he probably wasn't. The ring had this GIGANTIC fake plastic diamond on it, like, it was bigger than my hand and remarkably gaudy. Not the kind of thing I'd normally like but I liked this guy, so I took it and put it on my hand. Once I did, the diamond started shrinking and changed to the colour of my shirt, (which was red, I think), and the diamond melted into this tiny pool in the ring, so it looked more like a mood ring, but it was a chamelion ring, it was actually kind of cool. Then I placed my hand near my jeans, and the ring turned blue. I experimented, when I placed my hand near different things, it turned those colours, but when I kept my hand away from anything, it turned back into the giant, gaudy, fake diamond.

I was talking to this guy and decided I liked him but I didn't want to marry him, because he'd already been in a number of failed marriages and I didn't want to just be the next in line of his failed marriages.

There was something else, too... I can't really remember, though.

The Bus Driver

On days when I have TAFE, quite often the bus driver is the first person I interact with on that day.

Today, before I left the house, I counted enough change for the bus. I was running low on change, however, and only really had just enough, but I did count, and made sure I had enough for the ticket. In fact, I had 5c extra for the ticket, so I was good.

When the bus came, I asked for a daily ticket and gave my change to the bus driver. A lot of it was in 10 and 20 cent coins so he counted as I gave it to him. As he was still counting, he gave me back a 10c coin, because it was in New Zealand currency. I had not noticed this when I counted it earlier that morning, but when he handed it back, I knew I wouldn't have enough. Still, I thought, I'd only be 5c short, and hoped that maybe he'd be kind.

But when he counted it, he said, "I still need 15 cents."
I said, "I'm sorry, that's all I have," so he took back the ticket from my hand he gave me earlier. I asked for a 2 hour ticket, instead, and gave him the money for that. He gave me a 2 hour ticket, and then, with disdain in his voice, he said,
"You didn't actually expect me to give you a free 15 cents, did you?" as if I was intentionally trying to short him the whole time.

Most people accept the occasional New Zealand coin in Australia, anyway. It's not like I've ever been to New Zealand, so the only reason I would've had a New Zealand coin in the first place was because I received it as change from someone else in Australia. Still, I suppose it was his right to not accept it, but taking that into account, there was still five cents unaccounted for. (10 cents, really, since I had an extra five cents when I left the house.) I have no idea what happened to the missing ten cents, although the bus driver did drop a couple of coins while he was counting them, maybe he missed one when he picked them up again? Or maybe I just miscounted three times when I checked earlier that morning that I had enough change. I suppose it's not his fault that I didn't notice that one of the coins was New Zealand and that I was still another five cents short, but it's not like I tried to argue with him about it, either, even though a lot of people would've. I accepted it and just got a 2-hour ticket instead, even though it meant I had to take $20 out of the bank to get back home again. I don't mind that he didn't let me get away with getting a daily, but he didn't have to be so rude about it. Not for 15 cents. 5 cents if it wasn't for the New Zealand coin.

Anyway, it really put a damper on my morning.

It's not even that big of a deal, I suppose. Just a small thing, really. The rest of the day went much better, so don't mind me. I'm just having a whinge.

I'm a Winner!

I still remember the first time I ever won something. Or, at least, it's the earliest memory I have of winning something... but I do remember that, at the time, moments before I won the thing, I was reflecting on how I never win anything. Then, I won it... it was a card of the Hamburgler, I think, one of those things that you put in the oven and when it comes out it's shrunk and turned into this hard, thick, plastic thing that, if you wanted to, you could put a piece of string through the little hole at the top and tie it around your neck or something? I even remember how I reacted when I won. It was just like, "Oh, ok, I didn't really expect that to happen."

Considering I was about ten years old at the time, it seemed silly how I lamented how I never win anything, since I hadn't really been alive for that long to have had many opportunities to win a whole lot. Still, I suppose ten years feels like your entire life when you're only ten years old.

Today, I went to this church social event for women, this Women's Movie and Dessert night or something. Brought a couple friends with me and had a nice time. They had a free raffle... now, I never win raffles when I pay for it, but I have some uncanny luck when it comes to free raffles where I get a ticket just for turning up, like at, say, church events. I have an "Admit Two" pass to Pinewood Shopping Centre. I already know what I want to see. I want to see "Bran Nue Dae." The question is, who do I want to see it with?

There's a part of me that wants me to ask Yew again, give it another go, but I already know he's not interested and I'd just be embarrassing myself. I'll probably just ask one of my friends.

A Head of Hair

Well, I'm shaving my head on the 13th March for the World's Greatest Shave. It's to raise money to help provide treatment for people with Leukemia and that sort of thing. Why am I doing this? When it comes down to it, the best answer I can come up with is, why not?

Am I just being selfless? Getting involved in something that will help others? Perhaps. I don't know. I care about people who are suffering, whoever they are, whatever their suffering is, but it's not like I'm personally involved with leukemia or that it's something that I am particularly passionate about. Is there another reason?

At the time when I decided I would do this, I was thinking of cutting my hair, anyway, when an ad encouraging people to do the greatest shave came up, and I thought, if I'm going to cut it, anyway, why not raise money for a good cause while I'm at it?

It might also be interesting to note that the timing was a little bit after the breakdown of my parents' marriage and feeling depressed about not having a job. A part of me wonders if my decision was based on needing to control something in my life. Whether or not this is true, it doesn't really matter, now, and I don't regret the decision.

The truth is, hair has never been that important to me. It's just... there. I never do anything with it except tie it back in a pony tail to keep it out of my face. People compliment me on my hair all the time; how long it is, how thick it is, the slight wave that goes through it, every now and then somebody notices a hint of red in there, but the only reason it's gotten as long as it has is because I don't really think about it often enough to go to a hair dresser on a regular basis. It wasn't hard work to grow my hair long - it kind of just did that on its own. For this reason I've often thought that my hair was wasted on me - I really don't appreciate it like some people appreciate their hair. I always thought that somebody who cares more about hair and doesn't like their own hair should've had my hair.

So when people call me "brave" for deciding to shave my hair, I don't really get it. I mean, it's hair, it grows back, right? It's not like I'm cutting off my ear or my finger! Besides, it makes the back of my neck too hot and it takes ages to wash and it's annoying to brush. Still, when they say I'm brave I take the compliment, and I appreciate the support and encouragement.

So I've raised the goal I set for myself, I've set a date for when it's going to happen, it's all getting organised and will unfold. So, how do I feel about it? Well, as long as I only consult myself, I feel absolutely comfortable with my decision. Any doubts that enter my mind are met with a resolve to not cling on to vanity. Most people who know about it are at supportive or, at the very least, respectful of my decision. But then, every now and then I get a negative response. "Please don't do it." "You should've decided to just colour your hair." "There's no way I'm going to support you shaving your head!"

Comments like that really don't help at all, and I don't get it. Am I not understanding how drastic this is or something? It's hair! People mess around with their hair all the time! It grows back! It's not like I'm getting a tattoo. In a way, it's even less drastic than someone getting their ears pierced!

I've raised over $600 doing this, and it is very encouraging that I've met my goal and I am very grateful to all the people who pitched in to help me get there. People have donated with the expectation that I'd go through with it. It'd be a lot harder to admit to those people that I "chickened out" than having to deal with less compliments about my hair, and any stares or shock I might inspire in people is just an opportunity to raise awareness for the issue. To break this commitment for the sake of vanity and peer pressure would be a lot more embarrassing to me than a naked head. I don't understand why people even think it is worthwhile to try and change my mind at this stage, and it just makes me feel a lot more unsure about the whole thing at a time when it's much too late to turn back. I don't understand why people think that my head of hair somehow has more value than the lives of people suffering from terrible diseases.

Beit HaMashiach

Went to church today. Yes, it is a Saturday. No, I'm not a seventh day adventist. It's called Beit HaMashiach, and it was a messianic jewish congregation... That is, both jews and gentiles following the Jewish traditions, but who also believe that Yeshua (Jesus) is the messiah. Dad and I had gone there once before a while ago so this was our second visit, and it was quite good because it was also the same day that a couple of girls had their bat mitzvah, where they become accountable for themselves before God, (previously their parents would be accountable) so it was a very celebratory service.

I'm not Jewish, but I quite like the idea of a bat mitzvah or bar mitzvah. In the Western world there aren't that many rites of passage and the ones that exist informally tend to promote privilege and even recklessness rather than responsibility, such as getting drunk or smoking your first cigarette, that kind of thing. I like the idea of having a definite transition from childhood to adulthood, clarification for the individual where they understand that they're responsible for their own moral actions, rather than the blurred kind of line that many of us have. They are still under the authority of their parents until they're eighteen, but they have to answer to God for themselves, now, according to what I understand of Jewish tradition.

Also, it's not just suddenly they turn twelve or thirteen, (twelve for girls, thirteen for boys) have a ceremony and BAM! They're adults, they have to read out or recite prayers in Hebrew, the two girls actually lead the service, sung the blessings, that sort of thing, and it would have been something they would have had to study and practice for.

Oh, and afterwards, while I was there, I noticed a lady who I thought looked remarkably like an old teacher... only, I couldn't remember what the name of the teacher was! Then, when I saw her standing next to another old school teacher of mine, I was certain it was them. The other teacher's name I did remember, so I approached them and the second teacher recognised me but had to think to remember my name. Oh, and while I was chatting to her, she mentioned a third teacher that I used to have from that old school worshipped there, too! Although, I didn't see or meet him that day.

Shabbat Shalom!

Cheer up!

The start to this blog has been a bit of a downer with the last couple of entries, and I don't really want this to be a downer-kind of blog, so I didn't want to write this next entry until I was in a better mood than I have been the last few days.

I am in a better mood, today, except I don't really have anything to say... Funny how that works out, huh?

I did visit my friend, jestar, today, who may have something to do with me not being in a crappy mood. I got some writing done yesterday, too, worked on a short story that I had been stumped with for a while and I went and unstumped myself.

And, in the spirit of being not-depressing, here's a song about rainbows:

Sharing

Today's been a bit of a haze, and things that were this morning (my class) feels like it was yesterday.

Although my parents are still living in the same house, they are "seperated". Earlier I was lamenting on how that they make seperate dinners now, not that we've ever been an "eat around the table" family, but... mum and dad are making their own dinners seperately, eating different things. Mum makes enough for me. Sometimes she makes too much for me to eat and I give my leftovers to dad, but if she knew, I don't think she'd be happy about it. I don't care. It's better than wasting food.

I was just thinking about this when I wandered over to mum's room, and I talked to her for a bit, and when I was leaving, she said, "Grab a couple rolls of toilet paper for personal use." I look and see several rolls of toilet paper being hoarded in her room. Turns out dad hasn't been giving her enough money to buy all the things she needs to buy for everyone, so he can "buy his own toilet paper." So we're not only not sharing meals anymore, we're not sharing toilet paper, either.

It kind of upset me, for some reason.

A good day... almost

Today was mostly a good day, but... you know you have those days which the whole day was good except for maybe one thing and right at the end you feel kind of melancholy, still? Or... a day where everything goes wrong except you find at the end of the day, you're somehow, miraculously, in a good mood, anyway? So today was a good day, I suppose, for the most part. Had my second "Small Press Publishing" class today. When I first signed up for that class I wasn't sure what it'd be like but I'm REALLY enjoying it so far, it looks like it could be a lot of fun. We get to publish at least two, possibly up to four magazines, plus a book. It's pretty exciting and it'd feel great at the end of the year to actually have those magazines and that book, physically there, that I can say I, personally, was involved in the production of.

Afterwards I visited my friends who are having some troubles with their marriage, and while I was there my hand, without consulting my brain, sent a phone message inviting this guy I know, (I'll call him Yew) asking if he wanted to have lunch on Saturday. I was relieved when it didn't send because of bad reception, up until my rebellious hand just went and resent it. It sent the second time. I didn't have the opportunity to immediately freak out, though, because I was still with my friends.

When Yew replied, it was a rejection and, I won't say that I wasn't disappointed, but I think I was okay with it. I was kind of expecting it and it's not like I wanted to slit my wrists or anything, but I guess I wasn't very chirpy, either, because my friends kept asking me "What's wrong?" and "Is everything ok?" even though I didn't think I was acting that differently, except maybe that I was a little distracted. I told them I was tired, which wasn't a lie. (I don't open up to them about boys anymore since the last time... that hour-long lecture I got was, although well-meaning, also a little bit painful.)

I said I'd take the train home but my friend said he'd give me a lift, and he did, and I tried to be a good listener as he opened up to me about the troubles in his marriage, which were a lot more serious than my troubles. I kind of feel bad that these friends of mine seem a lot more ready to open up to me than me to them, but it's not like I pressure them to open up to me, they choose to do so out of their own free will. But I don't like the way they feel "sorry" for me if I open up to them, nor do I find their advice or insights about these sorts of things all that helpful. Anyway, their marriage involving a child potentially breaking up is a lot more serious than some guy rejecting a lunch invitation, but I was tired and I wanted to be on my own to feel a little bit sad about my tiny little thing.

I find it hard, though, marriages are breaking up all around me, people in Haiti, as well as many other places in the world, are suffering terribly, people are struggling to support their families, people with diseases living everyday with pain I've never experienced even once in my life. Sometimes I find it hard to let myself feel sad about something so little like being rejected.

Looking back I guess my day was, overall, a good day, in that I really enjoyed my class, and it was bright and sunny and nice, and I got a lift home.

Introductions

This is my own personal blog for my own personal use. I do not anticipate that more than maybe one person would look at it with any regularity, but here it is. Thank you for taking the time to stop and have a look at it.

I live in Australia. I am female. I am a Christian. I like to read. I like to write. I like to blog. I like thinking about stuff. I'm not very good at introductions.

Anything else about myself I may or may not decide to reveal as it comes, or doesn't come, up during the blogging process.