Growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional.

Yesterday, I found my first gray hair. I don't know how this is possible, considering the fact that I fairly frequently dye my hair a particularly dark shade of brown. But somehow, I gray ninja managed to defy all scientific reasoning, and escape the colouring. I must admit, at sixteen years of age, the last thing I expected to see when brushing my dark bangs, was a shiny, gray hair. What's with that anyway? Why is grey hair so much thicker and shinier than the rest? Maybe it's just because it wants to be all "Hey bros, look at me! I'm in ur hairz, makin u look old."

I like this idea much better than the scientific explanation of "It's because you're getting old. Old as in, closer to dying. Dying as in dead. Nothing. No longer part of this world." Because, let's face it, when you're sixteen, the last thing you want to think about is growing old and dying. So, like everyone who wants to ignore the truth, I swiftly ripped the grey hair from my head. Most people would simply throw it away, and pretend that it was never there. I, being my melodramatic self, went running through the house, waving it in the air and dramatically yelling

"I HAVE A GRAY HAIR! AT SIXTEEN! I'M GOING TO DIIIIIIIIE! WHY MUST I GET ALL THE BAD GENES IN THIS FAMILY? WAAAAAH!"

This was followed by a ranting session to my Dad about how he shouldn't have had the right to procreate. You see, my Dad started going grey around the time he entered highschool. I was hoping that I would get my Mum's genes for greying, because she is in her forties, and has probably had as many grey hairs as I have now. Unluckily, I got her extremely thin hair, rather than my Dad's think, dark head of gorgeousness. That's right, I got the thin hair and they greying. It is my common complaint that I got all the stuffed genes in the family. My parents usually respond with "Well, you are smart like us!" Little do they know, I was only talking about appearances.

Now, dear readers, I don't want you to all go out and assume that I am a hideous beast. I'm not great at complimenting myself, but this isn't true. I just seem to have ridiculously bad luck sometimes. I seem to always choose duds, and I have the worst luck when it comes to being overheard in conversation. But that's okay, because these things make for excellent anecdotes, don't they?

Surprisingly, I'm glad that I found a gray hair on my head. Why? Because I have been getting much too complacent about life at the moment, and assuming that things can just go on without changes or consequences. The hair proved to be the perfect visual reminder that life is short, and no matter what age you are, you cannot take anything for granted. My biggest fear in life is putting myself out there; sharing an opinion with people, even just simply talking to people, or posting something where it can be seen. I've hidden behind this fear for at lest five years, but now I've resolved to change it. The worst thing you can live with in life is regret, and doing nothing is worse than stuffing up.

One of the main reasons I haven't been blogging a lot lately, is because I don't want this blog to have too serious a tone, and I've had a lot of stuff going through my head. That and the fact that my computer completely crashed at least five times and had to go through days of intensive repair. Thankfully, it should be all good now.

Have you ever had a wake-up call about your life? Do you have any weird theories about why grey hair is so different? Feel free to share. My newest one is that the one grey hair was actually Excalibur in the form of a hair, being there just to bug me.

And remember the saying that everyone writes in birthday cards: growing up is mandatory, but growing up is optional. Or something like that. Just trust me though, I may be growing older, but I won't be growing up any time soon.

Slowly gaining World domination... One blog at a time.

Hey cupcake kids! This is just a quick post to let you all know that I've started up a second blog, dedicated exclusively to anime. This is because I talk far too much on the subject here, when I should be sharing random anecdotes and superhappyfuntime laughs. If you wish to read or follow it, you can find it at http://beyondthepixelblur.bogspot.com

Now you can all breathe a sigh of relief, because you won't have to hear my anime rantings anymore. Or maybe you're sqeeing with excitement, because you'll get to read more about it on this new blog. Maybe you couldn't get a cookie about anime and bloggings. That's okay! I hope I'll see some of you over there, though! :)

Also, who remembers the joint venture to start up "A Blog Named Doug"? Those of you who were involved, we should really start that sometime. I'd still love to write Travel/Arts for it!

Okay, that is all for now. Hope you all have a wonderful night, my confectionary kids!

My trusty steed, erm, ninja? Dog?

I am not a dog person. I have never been a dog person. I will never be a dog person. Up until the age of thirteen and a half, I owned a cat, who I loved very much. He wasn't very needy; he'd come and snuggle up with me in bed at night, and be a good companion when I needed one. One day, out of the blue, he had a seizure, was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and died that night. And there I was, left with a six-month-old puppy that my family had bought only a few months prior to that event, no longer able to call myself a crazy cat owner. This puppy could not have been more different from the cat; he would bite, cry, want constant attention and jump around with the energy of someone on drugs. Actually, in the three-and-a-half years I have owned my dog, he hasn't changed much from that description at all. He is still completely needy and psycho, but, luckily for him, he is also the most attractive dog in the world.

Sirius Black-ear, dalmatian extraordinaire. That's right guys, my dog's name is a Harry Potter reference. Whoot. Actually, he was named after the star Sirius, which is part of the Orion constellation, and is the 'dog star'. As his name says, he has an ear. It is black as black can be. His eyes also both have black spots on them, as does his nose. Unlike most dalmatians, the rest of his face is completely white, making him look kinda like a seal or a baby panda. I don't know, but it's cute, either way. Most people describe him as "A good looking idiot." That pretty much sums him up. He fits into our family perfectly; we're all spotty, yet good looking and incredibly silly.

I had the most amazing plan for today: to put on my hawt-dayum black cape, and get my dog to bite onto a hula-hoop, so I could run/ride around, pretending to be somewhat of a cross between Zorro and Dracula. But with a dog. I'd done something similar before, so I assumed that, loving to bite things, my dog would chomp on and take me riding. Apparently not. For some reason, he appears to have contracted hoop-a-phobia, and decided that he would run around, using only three of his four legs whenever I brought the hoop near him. I don't know why seeing a hoop would stop you for using one of your legs, but he's special like that. I should give him to new nickname of El Tripodo.

... not that he doesn't already have enough nicknames. My family is massive on nicknames. We don't really ever call each other by our real names. In fact, we don't use the correct name for most things. Pets have always attracted weird nicknames. Sirius, for example has been called everything from the predictable Siri to just plain weird things like Chimbo Chambo Chunky Chingles, Dangles Mercutio, Dangy-Yoo, Dan-gee, Pig-Snout, Siri a la Biri and Lotsa-Spots, amongst many others. No wonder the poor dog still doesn't know his name.

Anyways, he my little spotty ninja. He may be the biggest pain in the butt, but his crazy antics never fail to amuse me. He'll eat anything, just because he shouldn't. Like toads. And stuffed toys. And plastic. And whatever he can get out of bins. And his own vomit. And blue powder that he found today that may or may not be drugs from my neighbour's yard. Yum-ee. Weirdly, he is the least vicious dog I've ever come across. He got partially mauled by a dog a few year ago, and he just stood there and cried, rather than attacking. It was pretty heartbreaking. He'll even try to share his bone with you, which is gross, but very un-doglike. And he'll come up and lick potential intruders, and wag his tail at them. Excellent guard dog that he is.

So, hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to persuade my spotty ninja dog that running around with hoops is for cool kids. I mean, that's a crazy antic that I wanted to blog about, but he went and ruined/stole the show. Good on ya, Dangles. Yeah, despite the fact that I am allergic to dogs, and easily get annoyed by their need for companionship, I love my spotty ninja thing. Ohohoh, I totally played hide-and-seek with him the other day. And tag, because we're cool like that. Word. And with that, I will leave you with the [tos]sary definition of word, seeing as I use it far too much. Peace out, cupcakes!

Word - Street vernacular. Short for "word to your mother." As in, "Word."

Word...

//A.N: I still can't comment on anyone's blog. Okay, some maybe Internet Explorer and Google Chrome are both just dodgy. Or Blogger hates me. I don't know, but it's annoying as anything. I really want to comment, guys! So, I'm really not ignoring everyone's posts here. I know whiteribbon is having the same problem, so maybe Blogger just hates us both. Or we're just too cool to comment. Word. Aw crudballs, I really need to stop saying that... Writing. Word. Nuts.

Contrary to popular belief, that is water on my pants.

Oh no I di-int! Wait, yes I did. What are we talking about? Oh, you're there too, blog readers. Don't make me use my smoulder on you! To be honest, I don't even know what that first line and a half was about, so let's start this thang properly now. I can't tell you all how uninspired I've been blogging-wise lately. But, you would have gathered that, seeing as took my longest blogging absence ever, and the few posts I made before that were pretty lameballs. Never fear though, because I have returned to save you all from the fiery pits of woeful misconduct and paranoia... or something. You want to hear a funny, short anecdote? I few minutes ago, I was brushing my teeth, and I accidentally spilt water all over my general crotch vacinity, making it look like I had wet myself. [insert lots of laughter] What, you're not laughing? It's okay, that humour is way too immature for my liking too. Waaait... [flashback to two years ago]

It was a hot summer's day, and two girls departed the school bus, laughing merrily. They had just returned from a glorious (read, painful) school gym class, where they had spent more time ranting about the misdoings of socitey than working on their fitness, or lack thereof. As the short-haired brunette casually stepped off the bus, her pasty friend suddenly came up with a mischevious and diabolical plan. Grinning like a homeless man who had just been given money for booze, the pale girl took out her water bottle and dosed her companion with it. The short hair-brunette responded with a strange mix of emotions, but seemed relatively unphased that her wet clothes made her look as if she was without a properly functioning bladder. That was, until children started staring at her as if they believed she had genuinely wet herself, which left her pale friend in a fit of laughter.

Okay, so maybe I am that immature, and I kinda sort of might have laughed at myself in the mirror. I don't think it's as sad that I had an immature moment as it is that it inspired me to go back to blogging again. It's not like nothing has been happing in my life at the moment. In fact, a lot has been happening in my life at the moment. I've had three days of rehersals for my school's musical failure, sorry, 'musical spectacular', and the term is finally finished. I presented my Extension English assignment, and was awarded an A-, despite the fact that I had a coughing fit in the middle of my lecture. I am rather proud of this, because I worked way too hard on that darn assignment.

I also saw Jesus Christ Superstar two nights in a row, which was incredible beyond words, albeit emotionally draining. [Cue rant! If you have no interest, then skip this paragraph] I have seen so many theatre productions during the past four years, which range from musicals to operas to orchestral recitals to ballet to oratorios to contemporary dance. I have seen local, national and inernational productions which had everything from four people and four chairs to extravagant sets, and casts of over fifty people. However, I have never seen anything with as much heart, guts and genuine attention to detail as JCS. The cast get into the production so fantastically; at some stage all three leads were crying on stage (two to the point where they were properly sobbing), not because they were acting, but because they were genuinely overcome with emotion because the musical was just that intense. It is also a very physically demanding musical. The guy playing Judas broke his leg after just three and a half performances into the season. Funnily enough, that means I saw his first and last full performance in the role ever. Might I just add, he was fantastic. His take on Judas' Death was more moving and disturbing than anything else I have seen in my entire life. I'm not ashamed to say that it made me cry to the point where I was shaking and sobbing. I had a similar reaction to Jesus' Crucifixion, and Gethsemane. The guy playing Jesus was possibly the most talented musical theatre performer I have ever come across. How he is able to hit and hold (for a good 7 seconds, if not more!) a C6, after already holding the G below that, and not taking a breath, is beyond me. His acting was also flawless. He appeared as such a friendly person in the first act, and turned so tragic in the second. It was very refreshing, given the 'I-accept-everything-and-am-always-calm' view of Jesus that seems to be the norm in popular culture these days. Shout-out also to the actress playing Mary. Dang, could she sing! And props for dedication to the role, to the point of crying with makeup running all down her face, and throwing herself across the stage (multiple times!) only to be dragged across it by 'the crowd'. Yeah, it's possible the most intense musical ever, and the production I saw, I am deeming the best ever. I don't just mean the best prodction of Superstar, I mean the best production of anything.

Dang it, I told myself I wouldn't rant about JCS. Well, we all know that I have absolutely no self-restraint. I really do want to make this blog interesting, but bear with me, because I really need to have the obligatory anime paragraph. I finished Hakushaku to Yousei today, which is devestating. Twelve episodes is not enough! Especially when it's left very open-ended. I'm guessing they planned on making a second season, but this never eventuated. Honestly, I wish I knew how to read Japanese, just so I could read the light novels, and find out how Edgar and Lydia's relationship progressed. Anyways, to drown out my post-watching-a-really-good-anime-depression, I started watching a new one. Usually, I purposefully avoid watching animes that I know people I know have watched, because I have serious individuality issues, but, this time I have made an exception. Being in a particularly romance-needy mood, I watched three episodes straight of Kaichou wa Maid-Sama!. Having come to the realisation that every single story that I love has a really tragic ending, I thought it would be good for me to watch a nice, light-hearted rom-com. It seriously is a great show; I can see why it's so popular! I've made it my goal to watch three new anime before the holidays end, and I shall!

0_0 ... Wow, it really is true. I know I just established this, but for realz, I don't think it's possible for me to properly love a story, unless it has a tragic ending. Which is kind of strange, seeing as I haven't expereinced too much tragedy in my life, and when I have, it's been just that- tragic. I'm all "Ohai story. Your characters all get happy endingz, and/or don't have to go through Hell to get there? Me no respect you!" With the exception of some romances, because I am too much of a hopeless romantic. I wonder if that's some sort of complex... Not that I like all tragedies. If they're like "Look at me! Imma so tragic! Cry for meee!" my general reaction is "Bitch, STFU." I find myself crying at things that most people don't find that sad, and feeling rather emotionless towards things that are generally accepted as heartbreaking. Titanic, for example. I was so happy when Leonardo DiCaprio's character finally died, because it meant that I didn't have to see his annoying face any more. I hear this is meant to be a very moving scene. Oh well.

Ohohoh! You know what's really strange? I was on TVTropes, as I often am, and I had this weird epiphany: when I was a really young child, so many of my dreams involved having Stockholm's Syndrome. I'm not going to explain what that is but, yeah, after having this realisation, WTF-ery ensued. Okay, so I'm going to contradict myself and explain: SS is when someone is captured, and they fall in love with the person holding them hostage. I'm not into that kind of stuff, so it confused me as to why I was dreaming about that, as a child nonetheless. Luckily, I've learned that dreams don't actually indicate much about anything. If they did, I'd be a sadistic freakshow, who doesn't know how to do much other than die and be ressurected again, just so I could die some more.

Luckily, I've never died. Though, unless my brain gets creative quicksmart, I may die of boredom this week. I had a lovely time hanging with my wonderful hoes on Sunday, but I am stranded at my rural property for the remainder of the week, as both my parents work. This isn't a problem for most people, because most people live in an area where there is a public transport system. asdghasdbm. Really, government, acreage doesn't mean country-living, you could at least give us a bus service! Anywayz, when both my parents take the two cars and depart from work, if I have left in one of those cars, I'm pretty much stranded on my property, with nowhere to go. This is a rather depressing concept, but at least I'll have my sister with me this week so I can torture her for my own amusement. I shall use my super-powers-of-creativity to come up with fun and whacky things to do! And then, my dear readers, I shall come and blog about them here, for your amusement. Buenos noches!

Oh, those vampires won't let you be.

My brain has been partially deceased lately, thus inhibiting me from blogging. Well, not really, because if it had been, I would be seriously worried and probably in hospital right now, as opposed to in front of a laptop. My brain is feeling quite dull right now, though, so I'm going to do the whole subcategories thing to keep myself writing. You know that I'm not thinking straight when I spontaneously decided to write like a middle aged man, rather than a teenage girl. Just to keep it young and fresh here, I'm going to add a 'word'. Word.

[title of show] kills my vampires.

Is epic. "I'm trying to write a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical." Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Four people. Four chairs. A semi-mute guy on piano. Hilarious dialogue. Wonderful score. Excellent cast. Touching moments. Smart lyrics. Yes, I just incorrectly used full-stops multiple times for effect, so eat me. The title of this post comes from the song Die, Vampire, Die, which is about not letting what others say and your own insecurities get in the way of your creative expression. The wonderful thing about this musical is, while is it really, really funny, it is also highly relatable and has a great message. I've been dealing with many vampires of my own lately. That said, on to the next sub-heading!

The Vampire of Despair...

I really do go in circles with my problems. Saturday night was such a high, but yesterday saw me completely crash and burn in a blubbering mess. My way of dealing with life is "hold everything in, until you explode". This cataclysmic event happens about once every two months, and dear goodness, you don't want to be around when it happens. Cue "I've already failed at life and I'm never going to get anywhere" rant. [tos] line time!

You know when you're sick and you're like "Please don't throw up... please don't throw up!" then you throw up and you're all "I feel better... why didn't I throw up sooner?" I'm just sorry I threw up on you guys.

I should say that to my parents, because they are usually left with the lovely task of cleaning up my word-vomit. Well, everything is chuck-free now, thank goodness. Don't y'all just love insecurities, though?

Dracula... Literally draining me of blood.

Why thank you English Extension teacher, for not giving me back my draft that I sent you on Thursday. What I mean by that is "You man-bitch! Gimme my draft back, so I can do your stupid-ass assignment for Thursday, crackers!"

Did you just call me 'crackers'? Is this character black?

I have no f'idea how to finish the assignment. Getting a draft back won't help this, but at least it will give me a reason to work on it.

And when they come, run like Hell, see those bats on your Belfry,then call on Vanhelsing.

Anime may as well be a vampire, because...

It's draining me of life juices! I've invested waay too much time watching Hakushaku to Yousei lately. It's so addictive! Sadly, the anime only shows the first part of the story, so I'm trying to read the light novels. Only two of the twenty-five have been translated from Japanese to English, though, which is devastating. If any Japanese translators are reading this, pretty, pretty please translate them. If I had money, I'd totally pay you. Unfortunately, I'm broke. Can I pay you in love?

So. Many. Bishies.

Pop-culture vampires are lame.

They really are. I don't know what Stephanie Meyer was on when she decided that vampires should sparkle in the sun. But, let's not get into a pop culture rant. I've changed my mind, let's do it. You know who really annoys me in popular culture? Enrique Iglesias. I loved him when he sang cheesy-pop about being people's hero. Even his virtually unheard of uber-old Spanish stuff was cool. His recent music just makes me want to cut my ears off, though. Tonight I'm F*ckin' You- have you no standards, man? I see young teenagers writing "zomg. enrique iz soooo hawt and romantic. could he be an sexxier?" with regards to this song. Girls, if a man ever walks up to you anywhere and says this, I don't care if he looks like Enrique, please punch him in the mouth. He is obviously only an egotistical jerk ass who only cares about sex, or isn't man enough to act like a gentleman. Content aside, the amount of auto tune used on his recent album is appalling. It completely ruins any talent that he had, and gets rid of all the remaining traces of Spanish-ness in his voice. In conclusion: I don't care if Enrique is seriously one of the most attractive people alive (sigh. He has such beautiful lips. What? I warned you all that I notice people's mouth more than anything), his recent album was so disappointing, I revoked my status as a fan of him. Sadly, I still live in the hope that he will stop trying to be so annoyingly mainstream, but I doubt this will ever happen. Rant over, word.

Yeah, well, I no happy with you either.

Only four days left of blood-sucking goodness.

Hallelujah! That garlic must be working, because the vampire that is school is going to hide in it's coffin for three weeks in just four days time. I swear, it vants to suck my blood. Grade 12 be no fun, my homies. Well, academically fun anyway.

Yeah, I can imagine my Biol class being the same. Mwahahaa.

And that's the wrap up. Enjoy your evening, children!

Old Ladies Love it When I Talk Smut.

There is no doubt about it, I have impeccable timing. It seems to be predestined that whenever I say something completely and utterly embarrassing or sexual, someone who really shouldn't hear about it walks past. When I say 'walks past', I mean 'miraclulously turns up next to me for reasons unknown'. I don't know if this is the work of some celestial force, or a hint that I should acquire a less risque sense of humour.

Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been talking to Anonymous Albino about boobs in a public place, erm, year twelve area. But, sixteen year old boys often only appear to have one thing on their minds, and he needed to be scolded. I'm not sure how the topic got as whack as it did. Let me try and remember...

AA: I have a brilliant idea! Gingerbread women. With gobstoppers for breasts. I could make a fortune out of that.

Humph. Of course no menopausal teachers are ever around when he says things like that. Actually, that's a lie. Next to me, he gets caught out saying 'interesting' things the most. That's probably only because he mentions such things so frequently, though. Now, where was I?

DSGirl: You'll need to expand your industry. You're not going to make enough money out of gingerbread men with boobs alone.

AA: Oh course I would. I'm sure that if they were in adult stores, they'd sell.

I'm pretty sure they already do sell gingerbread women, guys. I'm pretty sure that at this point, one of the guys in our group put his head on the table in shame. Sadly my friends, this was only the beginning. The gingerbread argument turned into a girls vs. guys debate on what was actually good about boobs. It got kinda... funky.

DSGirl: They don't stay firm forever, you know.

AA: Alas, that is true. I was very sad to have learnt that.

DSGirl: Wait... There was a time when you didn't know that?

AA: I'm sure that as a little kid, I wasn't looking at old people and thinking "Wow, those boobs aren't firm anymore."

DSGirl: Yeah, but you'd still see older women and know that out of general observation. It's something that just happens, and that's okay, because it's not like you want some old women walking around being like "Hey! Look at my nice, firm brea-"

At this point, my Biology teacher magically appeared out of nowhere. Well, apparently everyone else had seen her walking up, but I'd been facing the opposite direction, and had failed to notice. My reaction was something along these lines:

My hand automatically flew to my mouth, as if it smother it, lest something even worse were to come out, and I couldn't see myself, but I can almost guarantee that I was blushing. To make things just that little bit less suspicious, everyone suddenly decided to cease talking altogether. My Biology teacher looked at us all very strangely. She thought that we had been talking about her.

BT: Were you talking about me? All I heard was 'old woman', so I hoped that you weren't talking about me.

Everyone hastily denied that the conversation had been about her.

Everyone: No! Now it wasn't-
AA: We were just talking about old people in general.

Yeah, really smooth. At least she didn't hear what I was actually saying. This post shows that I'm no stranger to making blunders in front of respectable people. The worst of these incidents was probably last year's Biology camp. Some of my female friends and I were staying in a cabin that obviously used to be a room for boys. The pornographic drawings on the ceiling made that all too clear. And, well, the people running the camp obviously hadn't washed the doonas we had to use, because mine had a few white crusty stains on it. Yes, my friends, I had some very interesting, and probably correct theories about this. I spent a good ten minutes screaming and cursing about this, when, to my horror, our friendly neighbourhood overly-Christian male teacher knocked on the door, and told me that he had heard every word I had said.

The moral of this story is: if you don't have something respectable to say, don't say anything at all. I'm only kidding, if you don't have something respectable to say, go ahead and say it! If you have half my luck, great amounts of hilarity will ensue. May the demisemiquavers be with you, munchkins!

[demisemiquavergirl], bite your tongue!

He no happy with you...

Life in Demisemiquavers: The Abridged Post

Gosh, I love that feeling I get when the clock strikes 11p.m, and for some reason, I suddenly feel compelled to blog. My mind has been a complete whirlpool these past few days, and I have much to rant about. However, as wonderful as the night is, I know that to function properly tomorrow, I need to sleep tonight. Therefore, I'm making an abridged post! I wish I could make this post even half as funny as an abridged series (then again, some of them seriously lack humour and taste), but my brain is frizzled in the shizzle... drizzle. That totally reminds me of this mobile phone advertisement I saw in Hawaii. There were different stereotypes posting their way of saying 'LOL' on this full-keypad phone. I was as such:

Nerd: That's insanium in the cranium!
Goth: I'm laughing on the dark and pitiful inside.
Muso: /singing/ Shake ya funny makeeerr... Shake it. Shake it hard.

Okay, so nothing I said even appear there, but I said that it reminded me of it. My mind like to go on weird paths and tangents. Maybe it's not a linear narrative. Non-linear narratives are going to either be the success or the death of me. Only the next week will tell! Away with this tarrying, let the abridged areas of my life begin!

The Good:
Most assessment is finished for the term! To top this off, exam block allows me to have tomorrow off school, and Monday is a public holiday. Somewhere under 100 days left of school, ever. Did I mention the I go on proper holidays in a week and a half, too? Yeah, this is damn fine. Holidays always means more time to do lots of crazy things. So, expect moarrrrr random from my bloggings once they begin!

The Bad:
Well, I do still have assessment. Everyone is sick, and I'm starting to join that club. And, Noodleton. Just... urgh. Anyone who knows what I'm talking about, knows what I'm talking about /eyeroll/ My multiple discussions with him today only fuelled my dislike of him both personally and professionally. Especially the one in the afternoon. He's so smart, but he really needs to learn how to do his job properly.

The School:
English Extension is the only subject I have yet to be assessed for this term. I have a draft due tomorrow, which I have not even started. The lecture is due and week and a day from today. Despite having talked to my teacher about the assignment, I'm still pretty baffled. My main steam English teacher was much more helpful, thankfully. Not that I'm supposed to have talked to him or anything... Gotta love the teacher wars at my school. That aside, I don't know how I'm going to do the assignment. I've seen the structure for the defense now, so that's how good. However, I still don't really know how I'm going to do a complex transformation of Dracula. I've decided to give Mina the power role, and therefore most likely write from her perspective. Seeing as my chosen theorist insists that linear narratives restrict the freedoms of women, I'm going to have to make my transformation completely random. Emails dated at different times are seriously looking like my main option right now. Not that I know what to put in those emails. Yeah, I'm as stuffed as a teddy bear.

The Anime:
I've started watching yet another anime! Seriously, I always seem to get into anime that either have really strange names or premises, or ones that just aren't that well known or popular. Well, not always, but that has been a trend recently (excluding Shugo Chara! because, dayum that's popular). My newest anime obsession is no exception to this. In fact, it doesn't even have it's own TVTropes page, despite having a loyal and not-tooo-small following. Hakushaku to Yousei, which translates to "Earl and Fairy" would be the anime I'm talkin' 'bout. When I saw the English translation of the title, I literally headdesk'd. I mean, I've had to tell people for a few months now that my favourite anime is Princess Tutu, which makes me sound like a brainless fairytale-loving child, when in reality, the show has an almost exclusively adult following, who respect it for it's metaphysical elements and the way in which it deconstructs reality, whilst parodying theatre and fairytale genre. On top of the awesome characters and shipping. But, I'm getting off track again. I was "totes devo" that my new anime obsession had a name that was almost equally as childish-sounding. Thankfully, it's most often called by the Japanese name, so let's stick with Hakushaku to Yousei.

It is set in 19th century London, and tells the story of 17-year-old Lydia Carlton, a 'fairy doctor' whose world is turned upside down when she accidentally gets involved with Lord Edgard Ashenbert (and by 'accidentally invovled', I mean kinda abducted, kinda forced to run for her life with. Whoot death plots). I'm pretty sure that Edgar's actually a criminal on the run, and his real name is John. But he's not really bad? And his name might actually be Edgar? Yeah, three episodes in, and I still don't understand him at all. He totally has a servant named Raven, who everyone seems to fangirl over. Not that Edgar doesn't also have his share of fangirls. This isn't at all surprising, seeing as he looks like Usui from Kaichou wa Maid Sama! (did I get the spelling right, ClearlyUnfocused? I didn't bother checking it). They are both fangirl-worthy. The ending credits are just blatantly fanservice-y. I was thinking to myself "What demographic is this made for? It's too intense to be for children. It's got too many romantic moments to be for men. Then who?" A few minutes later, I saw the ending creit animation, which consists on shots of the show's male characters nude, presumably sleeping on beds, and only covered on their lower torso by a sheet. I was all "Riiiiight. This is for young women! ZOMG! THAT MEANS I'M ACTUALLY PART OF THE INTENDED DEMOGRAPHIC FOR ONCE. SCORE!" I'm really loving it. Romance + mystery + different time period + a little bit of violence + anime mancandy + some fantasy = win for me! Aaaaanyways, as much as this anime hooked me in from pretty much the first second I watched it, I'm not too sure what's going on. Well, I think I know what's going on, but I don't know how to explain it. Which is probably good, because I have made this section way to fat already. WHY DOES EVERYTHING I HAVE GET OBESE? D:

The Theatre:
This weekend, I'm seeing the hilariously awesome return season of [title of show] with my galpals, which shall be wonderful! Then, next Friday and Saturday night, I'm seeing the return season of Jesus Christ Superstar, which I am incredibly excited about as well! And, I have just received word that I'm flying interstate to see Don Giovanni at the opera house with my uncle and grandparents in October.

The Religious:
Because I am in a religious mood, I saved the best until last. I don't believe in forcing one's religion on others, but this is my blog, and I would like to share a verse that I have always loved. Et hem.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband; and I heard a great voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people and Gos himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away."
Rev. 21:1-4

This never fails to fill me with such wonderful hope. We must remember that, being from Revelation, there's going to be a lot of symbolism kicking off, and a lot of things that simply don't make sense in our culture and context. But, the underlying message of hope for the future still rings through. I personally think what it means is this: Everything is temporary, and will come to pass. Enjoy what you have, while you can, as it will not last. However, pain and suffering shall also pass, and one day, when all these worldly things and feelings are gone, you will be left in the peace of God, who loves you, and all shall be well.

God has been so good to me lately. Being the sinner that I am, I got frustrated with Him, and said that he wasn't in my life enough. The next day, a series of ridiculously ironic things happened, and I gained a lot more direction. Yeah, He was all "Bitch, please. I'm always here, you just haven't been looking for me." What can I say? My God is an awesome God.

Aw nuts, I've gone and spent way too long on this post anyway. SHITAKIMUSHROOMCAKES! It's almost midnight, and I've got a long day tomorrow, thanks to the existence ofExtEng. Goodnight, moon children!

Five Non-kinky Things to do After Dark

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a girl alone at night must be in want of something to do. See what I did there? Intertextuality, people! Anyhootballs, we all know that I loves me some nighttime. In fact, without fail, I am the last person up and about in my house. Usually I stay in my room, with the door shut, because my day-dwelling parentals like to think I go to sleep at the same time as them. However, the past few nights, I've been trying to see just how much I can get away with. Trying to sneak around your house, for little to no reason, is no mean feat when you have the co-ordination of a sloth on drugs. Luckily for this slothy, people in my house don't mind sounds that could indicate their house is being robbed, or they like to ignore them. So, you're probably wondering what the heck I've been up to. On with the list!

1. Pretend to be a zombie.
This one, I trialed last night. Wait until everyone is in bed, and the house is pitch black (or as close to this as you can possibly get). Walk through every room of your house, covering as much distance as possible, with your arms extended and flopping like a zombie. If you're really keen, you can make deathly noises, but I didn't go that far. It would kinda defeat the purpose of this activity anyway, seeing as the aim is to make as little noise as possible a.k.a try not to whack into everything with your zombie arms. I did fairly well at this, for me. Though, despite having arms outstretched, I did somehow manage to walk face-first into a door frame. Ouch.

2. Run away.
So, two nights ago, I tested the theory that I could run away from home without my parents noticing. I packed some stuff into a bag, got dressed, and turned off the light in my room, which was of course the only light still on. I would like to add a disclaimer here, and tell you all that I had no intention of running away from home because there's nowhere interesting to go in my neighbourhood. And I love my family and home very much. Aaaanyway, you have to sneak across the house, fully dressed, without anyone noticing that you're even out of bed. This would have been easy, if not for the fact that my darn boots liked to make lots of noise on the tiles, so I had to move at the pace of a slug to get them to be quiet. Once you get to a door that you know hasn't been locked with a key, open it. Pray that you don't do what I did, and choose a door that has a set of blinds, a glass door and a sliding door to get through. Yeah, I swear it took me 15mins just to get the door open and closed again. Then, sneak across your front yard without turning the sensor lights on, and jump over the fence, because the electric gate is bound to make too much noise. Aaaand, you're out! Too bad I had nowhere to go. I decided to lie down on the grass and stargaze for half an hour before starting the whole process in reverse. This is time consuming, painful and redundant. Therefore, I totally recommend it.

3. Do the 'pencil test' and play limbo in the dark.
For all of you familiar with Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging (although, I'm sure this actually has origins somewhere else), the pencil test is where you stick a pencil between your boobs. If you squeeze 'em together and the pencil stays, you have enough boobs. If it falls to the ground, or you find yourself saying "Pencil, what pencil? Where'd it go? ZOMGMYBOOBSATEMYPENCIL!" then you either have too little or too much in the boobage department. It is a shallow and altogether pretty degrading 'test' that doesn't really indicate anything, because good boobs are in the eye of the beholder. Anyway, you'll all be happy to know that I apparently have perfectly sized breasts. Dear God, I am so ashamed that I just said that. I'm only comfortable writing about this, because I really don't put any sexual-ness on boobs. They're just fat and mammory glads, whoop-dee. That said, I don't exactly have any experience in intimate tiemz, so I'm not the most qualified to knock them off the list of sexualised body parts. Okay, this is reeeeally going down the wrong path. The aim of 'pencil-test-limbo' is to try and limbo under things, without the pencil falling out from... Yeah. Oh, and seeing as it's in the dark, you can't really see where your limbo piece of furniture etc. is, sooo, good luck not hitting it. And no, this is not anything weird or kinky, it's just for lolz. I'd like to see a guy attempt this haha.

4. Stargaze.
Now, for something more normal. Seriously, just going out and looking at the stars can be so good for you. I find that it gives you the opportunity to get perspective on your life and what's really important. It also allows you to clear your mind, because you're away from worldly temptations like the Internet. And, let's face it, the night sky is just so beautiful. You can make up your own constellations, or look for the ones that you already know. Or both. If you're religious, I also recommend having a chat with God under the stars. These seem to go better for me than when I'm cooped up indoors, and maybe it could work for you too.

5. Rob your own house.
Not for real, because that would just be dumb. Taking things from areas of your house, and then replacing them, can be quite a fun game. Especially when you get really daring, and try to take things from beside people's beds and then- "OHCRAPTHEYMOVED! FREEZEANDPRAY!" I've found that replacing said objects proves to be even harder than taking them in the first place, because you can't exactly just run if you're trying to put it back. It's also great to pretend to be a ninja, while 'robbing'. Trying to make lol-ful nunchucks out of old earphones and assorted desk-dwelling-objects isn't so great. Excalibur was so ashamed of me. I got given a look of "U fail."

So, there you have it. For those of you who, like me, don't like to get up to weird kinky stuff a night, you now have a list of weird, pointless, random, weird, crazy, weird things to do. I can't believe I managed to hold in my laughter while trialing these things, because some of my escapade were quite hilarious. Plus, I'm not known for being able to contain laughter at times that I need to. Hope you are enjoying equally random, but not equally weird escapades in your own lives. Peace out, kiddiechunks!

What about my dreams?

I'm starting to think I accidentally inhaled some of the marijuana my neighbour was smoking on his front porch the other day. Seriously guys, I had the strangest dream the other night, after my stargazing times. I stayed out looks at the stars for a good hour, while my lovely neighbour was getting high, not too far away. I didn't even realise this until my dear Mama came out and asked "Pff! Is [WC] smoking the pot? Because it seriously smells like marijuana out here," to which I responded by telling her that our friendly neighbourhood smoker had been out smoking for at least half an hour before leaving. I suddenly became freaked out that my mother knew the smell of said drug so well, but I wasn't about to ask her about it. Unlike her, I hadn't noticed at all. However, when she went back inside, he came back out and started yelling at random objects that may or may not have even existed, so I gathered that my mother was right in assuming he was getting high. I thought he only smoked cigarettes. Lovely.

Anyway, I am dedicating this post to both types of dreams: the ones you have while you're asleep and the ones that pertain to aspirations. Let's start with the ones you have while your asleep. Friday night, I had one of the strangest dreams ever. It was strange in the sense that it actually made sense. I mean to say, it had a proper storyline and wasn't just completely randomwaffles thrown together. Well, it was, but it still had a logical sequence. It wasn't completely devoid of execution, so I was a little bummed, but it was still pretty interesting and not particularly scarring. Now, you must first understand that this dream was probably triggered by a number of factors, these being:

- I was listening to David Harris' CD before I went to sleep
- I had 'Let Me Be Your Wings' from Thumbelina stuck in my head before I went to sleep. This was a big trigger. It's lucky that I don't feel shame for still loving animated films that I loved as a child.
- I was/am so hyped that I'm seeing Jesus Christ Superstar in two weeks time.
- I was in my room. I know that sounds like a weird trigger, but it became a setting, sooo...
- I had been looking at the stars. Duh.
- The most beautiful sky I have ever seen was in Miles, an outback town in Southwest Queensland. I remember looking at the starry sky the night I stayed there, and being completely in awe of just how clearly you could see the stars. I live semi-rurally, so I always have a pretty uncontaminated view of the sky, but this was just something else.

That said, here's a transcript of what I wrote down after waking up from the dream. If it doesn't make sense, or is written badly, it's because I was still half asleep, and I cannot be bothered to alter what I wrote. Note: Thar be many tense changes, me hearties!

The dream started with me going for a walk around the outback with a small group of my family and friends. It was nighttime, and we slowly navigated our way around the trees and assorted sandstone rocks, walking through the bush. We came to a cliff, and I looked up at the sky, getting a good view of it for the first time. As I looked up at the beautiful stars, I realised that I must have been near Miles, otherwise the stars wouldn't have looked so pretty. I walked along the edge of the cliff, and came across an old man, sitting by a campfire. He told me that the area was surrounded by strange myths and legends, and that I should be careful of that fact.

Suddenly, I found myself shrunken to the size of a mere doll, and in a house. It looked like my house, but I was sure that it was not. It then dawned on me that I was Thumbelina. With this knowledge, I didn't want to stay in a boring house, I wanted to explore the World. As I thought about this, an old woman came up to me and beseeched me not to leave, telling me that she had always wanted a child and it would break her heart if I left. I lied and told her that I wouldn't leave. After she left the room (which seriously looked exactly like my room. I even remember sitting on my own windowsill) the fair prince appeared. He told me that he was also trapped in the house, and wanted to break free. My memory of this part is vague, but I remember attempting to escape with him many times, and eventually becoming friends. After our attempts failed, we became desperate and broke out one of the glass windows of the room. He flew out onto the street, and I jumped out of the window, running as fast as I could, and hoping that the old woman would not catch me. After running for a while, I suddenly decided that I really, really wanted to kiss the fairy prince (I facepalm'd writing that), but he insisted that we find some shelter. For some reason, it started becoming dark really quickly, and we raced around, trying to find shelter before it was too dark to see anything. However, the only place we knew of to stay was the house we had just escaped from, and neither of us wanted to go back. So, we resolved to simply lie down on the grass, and huddle for warmth. Heartbroken that we had left, the old lady came looking for us. She found as sleeping on the grass, but did not take us back to her house, for she knew that to be happy, we had to be free.

The next morning, the fairy prince and I began looking for the kingdom (what? Did you think princes just appeared out of thin air?) he was from. After much traumatic searching, and the words "I'm glad you weren't paired as heterosexual life partners with anyone, because that means you can be paired with me, because I love you" being said be him at some stage, we found the kingdom. All the people were gathered around the town square/grass area thing to watch the execution of a joker who was a paedophile. I was horrified by this, and the fairy prince, seeing how much this bothered me, decided to distract everyone by flying above the crowd and announcing his return. The people were so overjoyed to see the prince whom they had thought was lost, that they let the criminal go in celebration. The fairy prince then announced that he had finally found the love of his life, and had brought her back with him. I had a fangirl moment to myself in the dream, before becoming desperate to reach him, and running through the crazy crowd. However, they would not part, and I started to cry, calling his name and hoping that the people would realise that I was the one we was talking about, and let me through. Still, no-one would let me through, and I became more of a tearful mess. Suddenly the fairy prince flew down, scooped me up in his arms, took me flying into the sky above the crowd and kissed me (erm. This is the first (pooossibly second) time I have ever dreamt that I kissed someone :#3 Shuddup. I iz innocent). We then left the festive crowd and went back to a small house. I fell asleep. the next day, we went to the King and Queen's court. The prince told his parents that he wished to abolish the death penalty, because I didn't agree with it. It was agree upon, and all was well.

Suddenly, everyone turned against the prince. He was arrested and beaten my a mob of officials and I all could do was scream and cry in horror. All of the sudden, there were a group of weirdos singing the 'Because of One Man' theme from Jesus Christ Superstar and I found myself being forced to sing along, and walking a metaphorical tightrope. Quite quickly, it dawned on me the the story had changed: if this was now JCS, then my poor fairy prince that had fought for my beliefs would surely be crucified! I ran around the town, seeing if there was anything I could do to help, but it was useless. When I returned to the castle, I found the fairy prince beaten and battered, telling his parents that he regretted nothing he had done, because it was for God and for me. I think my mind blocked me from having to see this character/figment of the imagination suffer any further, because the setting suddenly changed.

The whole story I had just lived was revealed to merely have been a movie, being watched my my mother when she was five years old and in a school classroom. Her teacher told her that they were watching the film, because it had apparently been filmed at the beachside town they lived in (funnily enough, my mother actually did grow up in a beachside town). There is a visual metaphor of a bird trapped in a water tank, trying to escape. Suddenly, the dream flashed forward to current times and my mother was telling me about the movie/story, while we were shopping for clothes in a 'gothic lolita thrift shop'. I tell her that I was the girl in the story, but she ignores me, and tells me to try on clothes. I walk out of that shop and go to another one, where [TenutoTuo] is working. We share some lame fashion jokes, and I find myself working in the store. I think of the fairy prince and wonder which reality was real. At this point, I actually wake up. Everything was a fantasy; merely a dream.

Yes, I dreamt all of that. I kid you not. I have no idea how I remembered it all, but I'm glad that I wrote it down straight away, because it's all pretty fuzzy now. How crazy is that? I think I should write a story about this. Not really, because no-one would probably read it. Still, it was a pretty cool dream.

Now, on to aspirations. Today, I was looking at the website for the largest university in my city; the one that I plan to study at next year. I've been thinking of studying abroad at some stage, so I went to the relevant page on their website. Somehow, I got myself to the page of a University in Spain that does exchange with the one I want to go to, and has opportunites for Hispanic studies for international students. When I saw this, and then read up on it, I thought I was going to cry. I would love to study abroad for a semester, doing Hispanic studies, especially given the courses that they offer for it. And, seeing as I am going to majoring in Spanish, I'm guessing that if I work hard enough, it really is a possibility. I'll admit, it is ka-chinga! And I have to have done uni for at least two years before I can apply for it. However, if I work hard and manage to get a job and save, who knows? I finally have something to aim for, and aim for it, I shall! Because, as much as loves me my life, friends and fam, going to a different country and meeting new people and studying something that really interests me just sounds so wonderful. Is it bad that I'd kinda maybe love to just do something different from everyone else? It's really great that many of my friends are going to be doing Arts with me next year, and I'm glad that I'll still probably get to see them around. But, I want to be different from everyone else. I don't want to just do the same thing as everyone else is. I'm hoping that this program will allow me to break free a little, and give me a sense of "You know what? I did something big, and scary, and outside my comfort zone. Something that not many people get to do. I'm proud of this."

I could rant about how awesome this course looks for ages, but I shall restrain myself. I should probably stop blogging, and revise for my Maths test, which is on Tuesday. Random fact: The title of this post came from the song of the same title by Kati Wolf, who represented Hungary in Eurovision 2011. Word.

Oh, and [ClearlyUnfocused] this totes doesn't mean that I'm bailing on our Espana trip at the end of uni. You and me will haz awesome Spain timez fosho. There is no way that that isn't happening, because I have been looking forward to it way too much ;D

Life in Cartoon Motion.

SUPERJUICYBALLSERIFICTASTICNESS! When a post starts off that epic and hyper, you know I'm in a good mood. Fellow internet-dwelling-lifeforms, I am in a very good mood. This sudden ascension in feelings is quite random, but justified. Who could be of ill nature, when I four day weekend was ahead of them? Sure, I just discovered that I have an ExtEng assignment due weeks sooner than I thought, and after being made to do a self-analysis of myself in Rave today, I have realised just how much I fail at life. These factors shall not break my stride, for the angel of nonsensical happiness only visits me at the changing of the moon cycle. Actually, the whole new moon cycle is a coincidence. Or, if you're into that sort of thing, you could argue that it isn't. My life really has seemed much better since the commencement of this new moon cycle. So, let us all dance around like lunatics and praise the hunk of heavenly rock, for reigning it's blessings on me.

Well, I am totally in tune with the moon. I know I've said this before, but my middle name means 'moon goddess' and is derived from alternate name for the Greek God of the moon. And, if I had the choice, I would probably be partly nocturnal. Okay, I'll admit it: I already am partly nocturnal. I'm like a cat. Oooh, that really is an excellent symbol for me. Apart from my feline-like features, I am intelligent, non-dependent on others, I have a great deal of pride, I choose when I want company and when I do not, I love the night, but I also love curling up in a warm bed and falling asleep, amongst many other things.

Excalibur clearly isn't impressed by my neko-girl behaviour.

This totally reminds me of Shugo Chara, which I have now watched 5 episodes of. I'm actually really enjoying it! I think, once you watch one magical girl anime, your suspension of disbelief in regards to any plot just increases by an infinite amount. This is my third (arguably fourth, seeing as I watched Sailor Moon as a child) magical girl anime, so it didn't phase me when main character Amu suddenly had guardian characters that hatched out of the eggs that were the desires in her heart, helping her to be her "would-be-self". Anyway, when Amu met Ikuto for the second time, she called him a "perverted cat cosplayer", which amused me to no extent. I mean, he totally had it coming, seeing as he had cat ears and a tail the first time they met, and he's not exactly, erm, not perverted. For example, following this comment, he tries to steal her remaining unhatched egg, and ends up straddling her, and she's all like "Why do you want my eggs?" It was such a Does This Remind You of Anything moment. Did I mention that he's seventeen, and she's only twelve? Pedo! Not that that stops me from shipping them like crazeballs. And I do not totally forgive the many weird things that Ikuto does just because he is total mancandy. I'm not that shallow, nooo.

Nah, I'm not actually that shallow. It's just usually an obvious visual metaphor to give the characters who are darker in personality/more messed up attractive dark hair. And those just happen to be the sorts of characters that I like. C'mon guys, everyone likes some good ol' fanbait. I almost feel ashamed to like this character though, because most of his fans are pretty disgraceful. Yesterday, I read on a forum that someone liked him because they liked the idea of him being a sexual predator. Firstly, he may be a bit of a tease, but sexual predator? I don't think they'd actually put someone like that in a shojo series. Secondly, anonymous person, you need counselling. I know that like, most of the internet world has strange fetishes and weirdness, but that's just kinda messed. /sighs/ Thank goodness Fakir fangirls are usually much more rational and intelligent. He still pwns all other male anime characters, just sayin'.

Gawshsnapdangit! Anime got me off track... again. This post has kind of been written over the space of a few hours. In between the time of my super-hyper-mood, my anime-yay mood and now, I have spent some solemn time under the stars. You know, my internet munchkins, sitting on the grass, watching the stars is my favourite place to be. Getting away from technology, people and a cynical, yet caring blog ninja and just meditating is so nice. As is rekindling your relationship with God. I said earlier that Rave had made me realise that I fail at life. We had to assess out of ten how we were as students, siblings, friends and children. I rated myself at pretty much average for all of them, realising that school is where I do best and put all my effort, yet it is the place I hate the most. I've been far too antisocial, and have neglected my role as a member of my family. But, the wonderful thing is, now that I've realised these things, I can change! I can get off mah ass and be the fudgeballtastic human beanstalk that I want to be. And, I can do it with God's help. What can I say? I would be a broken mess of kindling and unspecified woodchips without my religion. I care not what anyone says, because it is such a vital part of my life.

Ohohoh! I better write down the weird dream I had last night, before I forget. Schnitzelburgersmemoryboxhead. Mkay, so I shall try to remember all that I can. [MissInvisible] told me that she was going to see the ballet at, erm, the big theatre in my city which for anonymity's sake shall remain nameless. I responded to this with "Really? I'm so jealous! I never got to see ht ballet! But my parents are taking me to a party at the theatre." So, I go to this party with my family, but it turns out to be a rave party, with lots of people and alcohol. Actually, there's four bottles of spirits, but my parents are offended, because they thought there would only be two. So, I get dragged out of the party be my parents. I have this feeling that something else happenes after this, but I can't remember it. Anyway, [WhiteRibbon] and [Gojo] come up to me and are like "What are you doing? It's our graduation and you're going to be late!" So I freak outlike "ZOMGIMGRADUATINGFROMHIGHSCHOOL!?" and try to follow them to get to my graduation. The next part is fuzzy. Something about floods. Something about more theatre. Oh yeah, I was going on this tour with Marco Grazzini (don't judge me. I'm so sorry not-well-known-actor/VA-dude-who-happens-to-be-incredibly-attractive. I didn't mean to dream about you) and there were lots of other people there. Something about looking at the auditorium of a very large theatre. Something more about floods. I remember being depressed in the dream, because I was like "Aw. MG is 20s/30s. That means I won't be able to go out with him" followed by the realisation that in my dream, his hair was suddenly curly. This got a reaction of "ZOMG! MG HAS CURLY HAIR. THAT MEANS HE MUST STRAIGHTEN HIS HAIR!" but this didn't last for long, and soon I was back to my fankid depression, and trying to escape from the flood. I think I ended up going to my graduation? I don't know, but it was weird. I don't really ever take dreams to have meaning, but if you did, what the heck do you think this would symbolise? Speaking of symbols, I totally meant to litter this post with Mika references, seeing as I stole the title of this post from his first album, but I forgot. Oh well, it's not like I've listened to any of his music in years anyway.

I should probably head off to bed. I hope you all have lovely dreams, that aren't half as strange as mine. On the same token, don't have dreams that are graphically violent like my normal ones, either. Just sleep well, yeah? And keep being wonderful ninjasaurus munchkins, because if you do, life will bless you with nunchucks and lack of height.And I know that, deep down, that is exactly what you all desire.

//EXTRA NOTE: My Blogger has been really weird for the past few weeks. As of a while ago, I cannot post comments on anyone's blog, because the comment function will not let me log in. I am also automatically being logged out any time I actually vist a blog/my own blog and cannot log in without getting redirected to the Dashboard, and logged out again when I try to go back to the blog. So, my apologies for not having commented on anyone's blog for ages. I take no liability for technological failings.
OT I had a blog view from Spain today! I get many views, for many random countries, but I'm always happy when some Spaniard happens across my blog, even if they probably don't read it or understand it. I loves Spain too much :3