To walk a mile in my shoes (bring band-aids)

Super bored today. We’ve had guests for two weeks and the last lot left today. This house is far too quiet

Music practice has upped. Twice a day, an hour each time. You’d think it would make a difference, but noooo. Still sounds like crap. So instead of the second hour this afternoon, I just mucked about playing jazz classics (fly me to the moon, perhaps perhaps perhaps, sway etc) This was great! So much fun :) Really enjoyed playing for the first time in a long while.

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… I have a thing for punctuation. I over use it. Or at least, it seems I do. Then again, I am comparing to the illiterate dropouts I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of accepting on Facebook. That’s harsh. Not all of them are illiterate, there is a small percentage (with which I am more often associated) who are quite funny and know how to spell words bigger than “fuck”, sometimes they even get that wrong. Today a post came up on my news feed about smoking.

“i hate smocking; i can feel my lungs shiverling up everytime i breath in that discusting smell. i loose respect for anyone who puts that stick of tar, bug spray, rat poisen, nail polish remover and stuff to preserve dead bodies in their mouth :\ “ 

This disgusts me. Is the education system so bad that people can’t write a whole sentence without the use of spell check or Google? Family Guy and The Simpsons have implanted so deeply into their minds that they think being dumb white trash is cool. Seriously guys, read a book! It’s actually quite fun. Go outside and not for a drink or a smoke or to go pick up guys down the cinema. Another annoying post is “___ is with ___ at my bed ;)”. Its not cute to be a slut. It’s kinda gross. Being that public with something that should be a ‘private’ life is.. just… wrong. I’m not against the whole having the person in your bed in the first place, I’m against the telling everyone that someone is in your bed. These people have their mothers on here. Being sexy and being slutty are totally separate things. Being sexy is something that most people can be, with the right attitude and temperament. Being slutty is something everyone can be. That’s the definition of a slut - something everyone can do. Slutty clothes are designed for guys to perv on girls and can make the girl feel self conscious if she is unaccustomed to all the attention.  Sexy clothing is to make the girl feel good. This means she will look good too (hopefully) and thus still attract the same amount of attention, but be more comfortable with it. 

^^Wow, I really sound like an old grandma or someone’s father up there.. 

Did I mention that my favourite band broke up the other day? Now they’re re-forming without the lead guitarist. (He moved away) It’s really sad because I think he was my favourite. He certainly acted the nicest. In the most ‘avoidy’ way.

Well, so, hey. I gotta go. Check into the cyberlife later on. Its WEDNESDAY and I’m off to PARTY!

So it’s September now, actually, it has been for 9 1/2 days.. this leaves about 2 months until THE EXAM! *cue scary music*

My 7th grade Euphonium exam to be exact. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euphonium

^^ explanation of a Eupho..

There are 8 grades in AMEB (no idea what it stands for) starting from 1 and progressing upwards. So 7 is a pretty big deal. I think I’m going to stop after this one, because as much as I love it, it’s terribly stressful and I really don’t want a career in music. For many reasons. Mainly because I reckon if it became my job I would grow to hate it, and I love music so much that I don’t ever want to feel that way. The other reason is that musicians don’t get paid much. And I’m planning on living a high maintenance lifestyle. I need my money.

Wow, way so sound like a selfish bitch wanting daddy’s credit card. But really, I’m not like that! Honest! I mean, sure, I came from money.. but we lost that about 5 years ago with dad’s medical stuff. So we moved up the coast and started a whole new life. The only thing I really brought with me was the eupho. Not technically, because it belonged to the school, but the interest in learning it. At the start of year 5, before we moved, my school made us all learn a brand new instrument (great experience, every school should do it). My best friend’s mum was the head of music so she let us choose what we wanted to play. My friend chose alto sax-and only quit it this year- and I, of course, chose the “one with the funny name”. Typical me, always wanting to be different, to be special. Well, now I am. Because that term I fell in love. This instrument became my baby, my special part of home that could pick me up, no matter what mood I was in. It still can. After having a shit day feeling sorry for myself, I pick up my brass and play a few tunes and suddenly feel bright, happy and bubbly. Or the most wonderful day in the world can get even better by a simple melody. It really is a beautiful instrument. Before I got braces, I could produce a lovely tone on it, but now I’m unsure of how it sounds. 

In 2008, I joined the local town youth band. The first person I met was a bubbly girl who came up to me and said “When I run for President, will you vote for me?” I then went into a short lecture about how we needed to become a republic first and how even if we did, we’re too backwards to fully accept that a woman could run the country. She then asked what instrument I played, it was the same. We were both eupho players. (This is really rare, there aren’t many of us out there and they’re mostly men, so to find two girls, the same age, in the same town playing the same uncommon instrument was a gold mine) And thus, we became friends. On all the tours we’ve been on, we always shared a room and did everything together, and as more people joined the band, the friendships expanded and now there are about a minibus of us crazys. She’s really one of my best friends, she’s seen me through break up’s, instrument smashes, food poisoning, family troubles etc. And I’ve done the same. She inspires me to be a better player too. The other members of the band are amazing. At school I’ve always kind of fitted in, but at band, I know I belong. No matter what. And we’ve become so big now! From about 15 players in 2008 to over 50 now in 2011, it’s incredible!! This month we’re doing a concert with James Morrison…http://www.jamesmorrison.com.au/ It’s going to be really really great. This guy is a legend. I kinda forgot where this post was going… 

Oh. Freaked out for the exam in November. Possibly going to fail, but very much hopefullly not. It’s 1am now… Nothing is making much sense often anymore. Ummm? 

Watching the sun set over the roof of the bus depot is not at all picturesque. The Green Day song playing in the background is no longer loved, it’s grating on my nerves. All I want is to talk to one of four people. But, thanks to the time difference, they’re sleeping soundly in their beds. Meanwhile, I’m here waiting impatiently for my soup to cook. Recently I’ve become quite domestic, learning how to use the cappuccino machine, the slow cooker and most other appliances in my house. The parents, being totally consumed in tax and lawsuits and other boring yet necessary stuff have left all the most mundane tasks you can possibly ever thing of to me. My dog has started to like me though. It’s taken 9 years, but she actually comes and sits on my lap now. Before, she would only glare at me from a distance (yes, dogs can glare). Feeling loved! 

Uhm, no, not really. Kinda depressed today but must must must MUST look on the bright side. Today everything has overwhelmed me and all I want to do is sit in a corner and cry for a million years and hope no-one will find me. Actually, I do want someone to find me. I think everyone does, even the most screwed up, isolated, horrible kid does. Even adults. Especially adults. Everyone just want’s to be loved unconditionally, needed but not too much, not to be smothered, just have someone there. I hope I find that someone. I hope I get to choose who that someone is. I won’t though, it’s very rare that someone you know in your teen years goes on to be the person you spend your short amount of forever with. Especially if you haven’t technically met them. I know, I know, there’s all those horror stories about girls (and sometimes boys) who go off and meet someone they’ve chatted to on the internet and get raped and murdered.

But this is different. Honest. For one thing, I have video proof they exist and are who they say they are, voice proof, pictures etc etc etc. It’s perfectly safe, they are really them, and I am really me… oh. I wonder if they know that? Oh dear..  Anyway I’ve known them for about 5-6 months now, but talking to them, it feels as if I’ve met them before. Have you ever had that? It’s very odd. You ask questions about their life, and when they reply a small part of your brain (or maybe it’s your heart) says “I knew that!”. And you really didn’t. You haven’t been stalking them for their whole life (well, I haven’t..), you never even knew they existed at the start of this year! The worst thing is, I don’t know if they get that feeling too.. I haven’t got the guts to ask. I would like to, but it’s a bit awkward… “Hi! Everything you tell me about your life I somehow already knew, is it the same for you?” No. And how do you go about meeting someone from overseas anyway? Especially if neither of you live in a major city. Say, for example, you’re going over to LA next year for a tour with your band.. and they live near LA but not near enough to make it worth the trip. And how do you sell it to the parents? “Can your son come out to LA to meet me? A strange girl from the other side of the world? Whom your son probably has no real clue if I’m actually a girl or not..” AWKWARD!

If you haven’t read a post thingy by me before, you probably have guessed that I ramble. This website should be called ramblr. It would fit so much better. I only made this tumblr account because I wanted a place to write my stuff without anyone I know seeing it. Yes, I could have a diary or journal or some other lame book thing, but thats exactly it, its lame. So, no. Instead I’m posting my life out into the void of cyberspace, hoping it won’t come back to bite me later in life as all those current affairs shows are saying. Which is why I haven’t put my name on this. I think… (mental note to check settings later) and also its for safety reasons. The only people I ever want to meet off the internet are the guys mentioned above. So, if there are any pedo’s lurking this …blog?  GET LOST YOU FREAK!

With that settled, and my conscience partially cleared, I go back to staring at the clock in the darkness of my kitchen. The smell of great soup fills my whole body with an ache of hunger. It won’t be ready for another 8 hours.

so my mum just phoned, and apart from my speakerphone being unintelligible, she saw a coat in the op shop and is bringing it back for me! ITS A GREEN TRENCH COAT!!!! if heaven is in a coat„ it’s this one!! my mother is seriously the best thing thats ever happened to me haha

Pimpin’ the van out for the long road trip down to South Australia. Adding a wooden floor, extra seats, laptop/ipod speakers table, power points and a microwave. 

Started raining about 5 mins ago, so made a quick dash for the house, this resulted in wet socks. (not wearing shoes…) Rainbow has landed on the house across the street so might go over there later to look for that leprechaun gold! 

Oh wait, nvm the rain has stopped and the rainbow disappearing now :( Packing for SA now, gotta dash, wondering whether to make this blog thingy my online travel diary??