Sometimes I wish I was a kid again. Sometimes I reckon it would be worth being back in all that hurt to be out of the hurt I'm in now. Years and years of seeing things has built up and I want to burn out my eyes. I would rather be living in things that hurt me so badly but I don't understand than things I do so they don't hurt as much.
I remember those morbid nights when I would watch my parents fight because they didn't know I was there. I'd be enthralled by my father's anger and my mother's submission. I don't remember ever seeing him hit her but he did. I know how he hurt her. She was my mother; it was my job to know.
Does forced sex count as rape if you're married? Because I know that happened too. And the worst part is I don't know how long ago I remember that from. I know I was at least ten or younger. How vile is that? How absolutely disgusting is it to think that any child, let alone your own heard the fight that led to that? The crying and the begging for help? Because I heard it. I didn't understand much but I wasn't stupid and I knew it was wrong.
I'll never forget all those mornings I woke up and spent hours scrubbing my skin before everyone else got up. It was so hard not to wake Tiffany up. We still shared a room then and I could never explain to her why I was so desperate to be clean. I never used to think about staying with Meredith and Steph when mum had really early shifts at work. It never happened again after that night. I know that piece of scum looked twice in Tiffany's direction. I try to feel something for her but I can't. I was less than nine years old and the sick bastard tried something. I guess I'll never be prouder of myself than I was then. I think I broke his nose when I elbowed him in the face.
That was the one time I should have thought to scream and I didn't. I knew 'stranger danger'. I knew I was supposed to scream and try to get an adult to hear me. I just didn't know this was why. It's so weird. Sometimes I'll be sitting somewhere or relaxing and I'll be telling myself to scream. I'm so scared now that I won't be able to if I need to because I can't do it now. I can't make myself scream. I get embarrassed or I keep telling myself it is stupid.
But now I'm older. Now I know things and I understand what happens to me and around me. A few years ago, I was with my friend Sam and we were somewhere. I don't remember where it was, I think it was a guy's house. I'm not sure why we were there but I started remembering things I shouldn't have, not at that time. I remember hiding in a bedroom and then someone came in. I don't know why, I don't remember any more and that worries me. I think I got angry with this person who came in or I just got really scared. I remember less about that day than I do about the actual day that I was thinking about. I felt so insane sitting on the floor freaking out about something I wasn't sure was real and all I could think of was how it was so dark that night, how everything was black and then I was fighting something I couldn't see.
Now I'd rather go back to that night, back to when I was fighting an invisible monster. I'd rather be waking up at four o'clock for a cold shower than to scream. I'd rather relive every school day after my dad hit me for the first time for the rest of my life because I didn't understand it. I'd rather wonder know nothing about the kitten I accidentally stepped on than know now that I killed him. I would give anything to go back to those times because I didn't know what they meant.
Now I'm becoming a grown up. I have plans and classes and expectations. People want me to grow up and be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher. They want me to hold down a boring job, have a boring relationship, a boring wedding, boring children and a boring married life. I want that too. But my way.
I want to spend my days sifting through the debris of ended lives and cultures. I want to love and be loved, a white dress and a thousand cameras. I want a son named Aaron Lee and a daughter named ChocHazelnut Spread. I want to go on like that for years and years. I really do but I think I'm lying if I say I don't want to just be a kid for the rest of my life. I want to be seven and never get any older.
Being a person and not a child is such an effort.
30 May, 2010
29 May, 2010
Life Should Be Simpler
How can it be five o'clock and all I've eaten is handful of M and Ms? All I've had to drink is a glass of Pepsi? The only time I exited my room for more than three minutes was to hang out laundry?
I assumed I was having an alright day until now. I've spent the entire day in bed, barely eating, sleeping or even functioning. The only reason I'm considering leaving my room now is because I know I need the exercise. Seriously, even Hilary thinks I look overweight and I have to wear full uniform at the next meeting. Bruce Kidney's coming too so I have to look decent.
Why can't I be thin and pretty like everybody else? Instead, I'm a pale freak who is hidden away in her own personal dungeon and refusing to leave. The only time I ever leave is when I have school or St John. I'm a loser with no life.
Really the only thing I have going for me is, as Ben puts them, my Cleaveye of Death. And they're hopeless. You don't get people to really like you by being a trashy whore. My hair is easily dealt with but it's too short to do anything pretty with. My legs are strong but they're too muscular from my days in footy. I have too much flesh around my abdomen. I'm not lean. My hips stick out too far. My shoulders are to broad. I can't wear a boob tube because of my cleaveye. They make the material sit too far away from my stomach and then I look pregnant.
I assumed I was having an alright day until now. I've spent the entire day in bed, barely eating, sleeping or even functioning. The only reason I'm considering leaving my room now is because I know I need the exercise. Seriously, even Hilary thinks I look overweight and I have to wear full uniform at the next meeting. Bruce Kidney's coming too so I have to look decent.
Why can't I be thin and pretty like everybody else? Instead, I'm a pale freak who is hidden away in her own personal dungeon and refusing to leave. The only time I ever leave is when I have school or St John. I'm a loser with no life.
Really the only thing I have going for me is, as Ben puts them, my Cleaveye of Death. And they're hopeless. You don't get people to really like you by being a trashy whore. My hair is easily dealt with but it's too short to do anything pretty with. My legs are strong but they're too muscular from my days in footy. I have too much flesh around my abdomen. I'm not lean. My hips stick out too far. My shoulders are to broad. I can't wear a boob tube because of my cleaveye. They make the material sit too far away from my stomach and then I look pregnant.
26 May, 2010
Sleeping Naked
I don't know if I had a good day today. I'm so glad Courtney and I got stuck into that Anastasia song. There's something about Disney that makes me feel so good about myself.
I think the day did go really well for me but I was just so hung over from the effects of yesterday that the balance has not been met.
I was so proud of my cadets tonight. Their drill was impeccable. I've never seen it so good and what with the surprise bombshell dropped- Bruce Kidney is stopping by our meeting next week -I couldn't help but be impressed and like tonight's meeting. We have another new cadet and her name is Karly. I'm happy, I like new cadets.
Michael is still just as frustrating as before. He insists on taking far too long to perform basic tasks. Matt seems to suffer from some kind of learning difficulty and that is painful for me to work through. My time is more appreciated and better spelt elsewhere.
I feel like I have no where and no one to talk to my day about except here. How strange is it that an unread blog is my therapy? I suppose being ignored here just makes it like a diary. Hmmm...Perhaps I can just talk about whatever I like here?
Tonight I plan on sleeping naked. I like sleeping naked. There's something relaxed and 'carefree and swirly' about it. It's good to be 'carefree and swirly'.
I've decided my school shoes are ok and another accord will be entered into. Monday they just felt wrong. Today they did not.
I may or may not wear a bra tomorrow. I cut myself twice on the leg this afternoon. I like drinking proper cocoa when I have a headache. This week will turn out for the better and I won't mutilate myself again but I need another day or two to shake the awful feeling of impending doom.
I think the day did go really well for me but I was just so hung over from the effects of yesterday that the balance has not been met.
I was so proud of my cadets tonight. Their drill was impeccable. I've never seen it so good and what with the surprise bombshell dropped- Bruce Kidney is stopping by our meeting next week -I couldn't help but be impressed and like tonight's meeting. We have another new cadet and her name is Karly. I'm happy, I like new cadets.
Michael is still just as frustrating as before. He insists on taking far too long to perform basic tasks. Matt seems to suffer from some kind of learning difficulty and that is painful for me to work through. My time is more appreciated and better spelt elsewhere.
I feel like I have no where and no one to talk to my day about except here. How strange is it that an unread blog is my therapy? I suppose being ignored here just makes it like a diary. Hmmm...Perhaps I can just talk about whatever I like here?
Tonight I plan on sleeping naked. I like sleeping naked. There's something relaxed and 'carefree and swirly' about it. It's good to be 'carefree and swirly'.
I've decided my school shoes are ok and another accord will be entered into. Monday they just felt wrong. Today they did not.
I may or may not wear a bra tomorrow. I cut myself twice on the leg this afternoon. I like drinking proper cocoa when I have a headache. This week will turn out for the better and I won't mutilate myself again but I need another day or two to shake the awful feeling of impending doom.
25 May, 2010
To Be A Teenage Girl
Who would willingly be one? Who could ever possibly WANT to be a teenager? Or me, for that matter?
High school can sometimes suck, usually a lot. Once one tiny little thing goes wrong, the whole world crumbles. Especially with boys.
This is the part where well meaning friends will tell you that to the world, you may be one person but to one person you may be the world. That just makes you feel worse.
Where does it all begin? Outside the A Block with a him, a her and a Winnie-the-Pooh anthology. Foot in mouth strikes but it is ok. She walks home happy, barefoot. The embarrassment does not matter. Right? But wrong.
Revision keeps her up far too late. She wakes up on the only side of the bed. It is cold, she can't find her Pjs. It may have helped to wear them but it was warm last night. She is behind schedule preparing for the school day. The brother refuses to get up so she sends him in to the parental units. There is confusion. A substitute is had in OutEd and Geo. Geo was bludged and that redeemed the morning some. History was far too brief and was blank; there was nothing to do, another substitute. The library provided a more quiet but by no means silent refuge. The hell hole of the afternoon proceeded with a period of GenMath. The claims of making a scene, being a tool, the adolescent behaviours of a pictorial and lowly vocalised kind were overdone.
Naturally, an exit was necessary. After mild violence, the removal of self was enacted. Quite reservedly and with minimal drama, she completed her exit. Private study in the centre did not work and having him watch her was distracting. Shortly after he left, her bag was packed and she headed home, passing him once and not stopping. Pyjamas were entered and the covers were pulled high above the head.
How could she not have seen? They only let you be this happy when they are preparing to take something from you. Today it was your dignity, another portion of your sanity. Sleep it off?
High school can sometimes suck, usually a lot. Once one tiny little thing goes wrong, the whole world crumbles. Especially with boys.
This is the part where well meaning friends will tell you that to the world, you may be one person but to one person you may be the world. That just makes you feel worse.
Where does it all begin? Outside the A Block with a him, a her and a Winnie-the-Pooh anthology. Foot in mouth strikes but it is ok. She walks home happy, barefoot. The embarrassment does not matter. Right? But wrong.
Revision keeps her up far too late. She wakes up on the only side of the bed. It is cold, she can't find her Pjs. It may have helped to wear them but it was warm last night. She is behind schedule preparing for the school day. The brother refuses to get up so she sends him in to the parental units. There is confusion. A substitute is had in OutEd and Geo. Geo was bludged and that redeemed the morning some. History was far too brief and was blank; there was nothing to do, another substitute. The library provided a more quiet but by no means silent refuge. The hell hole of the afternoon proceeded with a period of GenMath. The claims of making a scene, being a tool, the adolescent behaviours of a pictorial and lowly vocalised kind were overdone.
Naturally, an exit was necessary. After mild violence, the removal of self was enacted. Quite reservedly and with minimal drama, she completed her exit. Private study in the centre did not work and having him watch her was distracting. Shortly after he left, her bag was packed and she headed home, passing him once and not stopping. Pyjamas were entered and the covers were pulled high above the head.
How could she not have seen? They only let you be this happy when they are preparing to take something from you. Today it was your dignity, another portion of your sanity. Sleep it off?
24 May, 2010
Is It Just Me Or Are The Stars All Really Exploding?
It would seem that the entire world is speaking Greek to me. Take Lachlan as an example. The only guy who happens be in my Literature class talks to no one until he deems me fit to converse with. We share a common loathing: Marnee's constant name dropping- her own, of course. And I am refusing to wear my school shoes. They don't FEEL right to me. And Lachlan is reading the children's books I bring to Literature. And I am purposefully shut in a room to miss my classes. It's my own choice too. And my parents are actually home this week. And it is almost Winter but it is always warm when I wake up. And Roxy is gone. And everything is shiny and different and new all at the same time. I am so confused by it. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I dreamed of the butterfly house at the Zoo. everywhere, everything. It's all Greek.
How Did It Get So Late So Soon?
I don't know, Theodore. Why don't you tell me? I would answer if it were not so late that I could no longer remember the question. Well, for your sake, I shall attempt to proceed.
First there was Dawn and then Morning. Following that there was Noon which was closely shadowed by Afternoon. Dusk was next but quickly moved on for Twilight and then Evening. Lastly, we stumbled into Midnight. That is how it got so late so soon.
Then there is my way of becoming late.
Beloved died. I learnt some bad habits which led to bad actions (for myself and others). This was after starting high school of course- how that ages one! There were several house changes and then VCE set in reasonably fast. What with Revision dashing to my side and then the throes of exams upon me, I was barely able to keep up. That is how it got so late so soon.
There was a lengthy spell of revising (in comparison) followed by a mad rush shower. After that, some toast and then settling into bed. It didn't last long with forgotten laundry becoming unforgotten. There was a brief conversation with someone who wasn't there then an insane need to change the bedding. Once again settled into bed, there was to be no sleeping. Words began to flow. That is how it got so late so soon.
We were born. We learned, we loved. We made mistakes. We had babies, we dreamed secret dreams. We got old and memorised poetry. We lay down. We died. That is how it got so late so soon.
First there was Dawn and then Morning. Following that there was Noon which was closely shadowed by Afternoon. Dusk was next but quickly moved on for Twilight and then Evening. Lastly, we stumbled into Midnight. That is how it got so late so soon.
Then there is my way of becoming late.
Beloved died. I learnt some bad habits which led to bad actions (for myself and others). This was after starting high school of course- how that ages one! There were several house changes and then VCE set in reasonably fast. What with Revision dashing to my side and then the throes of exams upon me, I was barely able to keep up. That is how it got so late so soon.
There was a lengthy spell of revising (in comparison) followed by a mad rush shower. After that, some toast and then settling into bed. It didn't last long with forgotten laundry becoming unforgotten. There was a brief conversation with someone who wasn't there then an insane need to change the bedding. Once again settled into bed, there was to be no sleeping. Words began to flow. That is how it got so late so soon.
We were born. We learned, we loved. We made mistakes. We had babies, we dreamed secret dreams. We got old and memorised poetry. We lay down. We died. That is how it got so late so soon.
Taemus, You Appear To Be Angry With Me
It would appear we are no longer speaking, that we no longer have an accord. I wonder why that is, Taemus.
As a god, do you believe that you are allowed to abandon me? You should know better. You are the god of dreams and I am the insomniac. Who could possibly worship you more? I must have displeased you to have been abandoned so. No warning, no heads-up, not even a hint that you were bored of your job.
I hope you aren't on vacation. That would truly piss me off. I would probably murder you if you were off in the Bahamas or up in the Swedish Alps. That would be annoying. I wouldn't like it.
Perhaps I made you angry. Perhaps you were annoyed that I continuously brought my problems to you. I thought you would be the right person to turn to. Apparently I may have been slightly off the mark.
Would you like a bedtime story, Taemus? I've been reading something you may be interested in. They call it 'The Island'. I nearly cried. It makes me think of people who I should not have long forgotten but did. I fell alseep reading it last night. Shows just how mature I am.
That was sincere, Taemus. Not many teenagers can say that they truly fell asleep reading a children's book before bed. I dreamt in the book. How strange is that? I dreamt of you, Taemus, but you looked like everyone did on those pages.
I was afraid, Taemus. I was scared that you had built high walls to make sure no one would bother you again. I was scared that you had turned me over to these people and would have them look after me in your stead.
It wasn't nice, Taemus. I was scared and I never wanted to live in this fear. Where is the bliss that you promised?
As a god, do you believe that you are allowed to abandon me? You should know better. You are the god of dreams and I am the insomniac. Who could possibly worship you more? I must have displeased you to have been abandoned so. No warning, no heads-up, not even a hint that you were bored of your job.
I hope you aren't on vacation. That would truly piss me off. I would probably murder you if you were off in the Bahamas or up in the Swedish Alps. That would be annoying. I wouldn't like it.
Perhaps I made you angry. Perhaps you were annoyed that I continuously brought my problems to you. I thought you would be the right person to turn to. Apparently I may have been slightly off the mark.
Would you like a bedtime story, Taemus? I've been reading something you may be interested in. They call it 'The Island'. I nearly cried. It makes me think of people who I should not have long forgotten but did. I fell alseep reading it last night. Shows just how mature I am.
That was sincere, Taemus. Not many teenagers can say that they truly fell asleep reading a children's book before bed. I dreamt in the book. How strange is that? I dreamt of you, Taemus, but you looked like everyone did on those pages.
I was afraid, Taemus. I was scared that you had built high walls to make sure no one would bother you again. I was scared that you had turned me over to these people and would have them look after me in your stead.
It wasn't nice, Taemus. I was scared and I never wanted to live in this fear. Where is the bliss that you promised?
22 May, 2010
Dreams of Ink
I am awake now and I have to get this out of my head.
I am lying in a massive field of clover grass next to a forgotten friend. We are talking about plans. Plans to have babies, to go to university, to love each other and be happy. Sometimes I think I am lying with Ben, other times with Paige or Tiffany or even you. We are just lying there, laying out the rest of our lives. They are promising never to leave me behind and I am promising not to leave at all. I am content just to lie in the field, dreaming up the rest of my life. We are still and warm, watching the sun slowly cross above us, lengthening the shadows but keeping our bodies warm. I look up and my mother is standing a few steps away from us. I don’t recognise her but I do. It is all about her dress.
She waits while I walk over to her. She puts her arm around my shoulders and reminds me of what I already knew. We are only allowed to be so happy when we are being prepared to have something taken away.
I am taken to the garden. My Carolynne walks me into the secret garden and into Tina’s dream. This time we walk through it together, over to the willow tree and the grey wall. We lay down together and she points out the new roses growing between the leaves. I am leaning into her shoulder and listening to the beating of her heart as she dies beside me. I die with her.
I guess this should be described more as a bad dream than as a nightmare but what is terrifying for some is bloodcurdling for another. It is different to lay with someone as they die than to make it happen. It is a different kind of horror. For now I just hope to be forgiven.
I am lying in a massive field of clover grass next to a forgotten friend. We are talking about plans. Plans to have babies, to go to university, to love each other and be happy. Sometimes I think I am lying with Ben, other times with Paige or Tiffany or even you. We are just lying there, laying out the rest of our lives. They are promising never to leave me behind and I am promising not to leave at all. I am content just to lie in the field, dreaming up the rest of my life. We are still and warm, watching the sun slowly cross above us, lengthening the shadows but keeping our bodies warm. I look up and my mother is standing a few steps away from us. I don’t recognise her but I do. It is all about her dress.
She waits while I walk over to her. She puts her arm around my shoulders and reminds me of what I already knew. We are only allowed to be so happy when we are being prepared to have something taken away.
I am taken to the garden. My Carolynne walks me into the secret garden and into Tina’s dream. This time we walk through it together, over to the willow tree and the grey wall. We lay down together and she points out the new roses growing between the leaves. I am leaning into her shoulder and listening to the beating of her heart as she dies beside me. I die with her.
I guess this should be described more as a bad dream than as a nightmare but what is terrifying for some is bloodcurdling for another. It is different to lay with someone as they die than to make it happen. It is a different kind of horror. For now I just hope to be forgiven.
21 May, 2010
Damned Teenage Depressions And States Of Mind
I do not understand why I have a gaping hole which will not be filled. I understand that it will not be filled because I do not know what is missing. What I do not understand is why this gaping, fleshy wound has appeared. I am deeply unnerved and I miss the part of me that is gone. I would like to find and reclaim what I have lost but I cannot. I do not know what I have lost. I believe that to be what is worst. Something has abandoned me but I do not know what it is so the talents of Google are of no use. A search engine is limited by what we already know.
Perhaps it is the knowledge of who I am. I do not remember how I used to think about myself or others. Maybe I just let the world amble by whilst I was busy and now I am unsure of how to catch up to what I do not recognise.
I have been drowning myself in words to escape the loneliness. Not knowing what I do not have, what I do not know is missing has made me lonely. I am not alone but it feels like it. I have tried to save myself by destroying my metaphysical being and turning to the texts which want me, love me, need me to continue existing.
Come back to me, missing and shattered pieces. I miss you.
Terreur.
Perhaps it is the knowledge of who I am. I do not remember how I used to think about myself or others. Maybe I just let the world amble by whilst I was busy and now I am unsure of how to catch up to what I do not recognise.
I have been drowning myself in words to escape the loneliness. Not knowing what I do not have, what I do not know is missing has made me lonely. I am not alone but it feels like it. I have tried to save myself by destroying my metaphysical being and turning to the texts which want me, love me, need me to continue existing.
Come back to me, missing and shattered pieces. I miss you.
Terreur.
07 May, 2010
Mrs. Hilary Warrington
My name is Amy Miller. I am the Cadet Corporal at the Cardinia Combined St John Ambulance. You know me because I have been a part of your division for several years and have for some time considered myself to be your friend.
Today, I would like to take this opportunity to raise some objections and complaints I have come across whilst working alongside you as a part of Cardinia Combined.
It has recently been brought to my attention that you had made some remarks about my appearance at the ceremony where I received my promotion from Senior Cadet to Senior Cadet Corporal. The comments were made to another cadet (whose name will remain unmentioned for privacy) whilst I was not present. This cadet has also discussed their displeasure at the comments made.
The comments in question were as follows and they are naturally paraphrased as I was unable to hear them first hand:
You questioned whether myself and the other cadet ever checked our appearance before leaving to attend meetings in uniform.
You then went on to say that we were not to wear our black skirts as part of the uniform or we would have to wear jumpers.
What came next appalled me and hurt my feelings. Your next comment was that you believed our appearance in uniform to be unflattering and that was why we must not wear skirts.
Specifically you said that the skirt was far too tight on my hips and stomach.
I do not appreciate these comments as I have previously worn this very same uniform yet I have lost weight since I wore it last so it does not sit as tight as it previously did. Also on this issue, I do not wear the St John uniform because it is flattering to my figure. I do not come to St John Ambulance to be stared at. I do it because I like the opportunity I am given. I do it because I am proud to be a cadet.
My second complaint regards your treatment of Angelique Zacaris. I understand that you have differing views to Angelique and she becomes the topic of discussion and minor jokes. I have also taken part in lightly mocking her. I do not say it is particularly right but I do believe this to be harmless and all in fun. What upsets me is the harsh way in which you tore down her dreams of becoming a doctor.
You may be quite right in saying that Angelique will not be able to become a doctor through her current course of schooling or attitude to learning. It is the way you went about it that upsets me so.
Angelique is far from emotionally mature and your tone in addition to the things you were saying about the poor girls dreams hurt her. The pain caused was visible from how she looked. Although she regained her composure quite quickly, the damage was done.
I must speak up about your husband, Mr Herbert Mueller. It seems to me that although you are no longer living with him as though married, you will not deter him from interfering in your St John life. For the sake of professionalism, something must be done. You put the image and reputation of St John Ambulance in jeopardy by allowing him to loiter around our vehicle whilst on duty.
Mr Mueller is not only a hazard to the oxygen tank due to his habit of smoking beside our vehicle, there are hygiene issues. Mr Mueller does not care much for his appearance or personal hygiene and these standards are absolutely foul. Such poor hygiene within the vicinity of our vehicle used for the treatment of the injured public is not acceptable.
Mr Mueller is also far from self aware and problematic when it is necessary to treat casualties. I have had to remove Mr Mueller from where I was treating once as he was trying to tell a casualty with an injured leg to move as the casualty was in his chair. I was made to waste my time and the incident did not look good for St John Ambulance's reputation.
I regret to inform you, Mrs Warrington, that I am severely displeased with the current goings on of this division and I am questioning my role in its participation. I feel that perhaps a short reprieve from the division is necessary so that the division will be able to make reparations and so that I may also remove myself from that which displeases me.
Miss Amy Miller
Senior Cadet Corporal
Cardinia Combined Division
St John Ambulance Australia
Today, I would like to take this opportunity to raise some objections and complaints I have come across whilst working alongside you as a part of Cardinia Combined.
It has recently been brought to my attention that you had made some remarks about my appearance at the ceremony where I received my promotion from Senior Cadet to Senior Cadet Corporal. The comments were made to another cadet (whose name will remain unmentioned for privacy) whilst I was not present. This cadet has also discussed their displeasure at the comments made.
The comments in question were as follows and they are naturally paraphrased as I was unable to hear them first hand:
You questioned whether myself and the other cadet ever checked our appearance before leaving to attend meetings in uniform.
You then went on to say that we were not to wear our black skirts as part of the uniform or we would have to wear jumpers.
What came next appalled me and hurt my feelings. Your next comment was that you believed our appearance in uniform to be unflattering and that was why we must not wear skirts.
Specifically you said that the skirt was far too tight on my hips and stomach.
I do not appreciate these comments as I have previously worn this very same uniform yet I have lost weight since I wore it last so it does not sit as tight as it previously did. Also on this issue, I do not wear the St John uniform because it is flattering to my figure. I do not come to St John Ambulance to be stared at. I do it because I like the opportunity I am given. I do it because I am proud to be a cadet.
My second complaint regards your treatment of Angelique Zacaris. I understand that you have differing views to Angelique and she becomes the topic of discussion and minor jokes. I have also taken part in lightly mocking her. I do not say it is particularly right but I do believe this to be harmless and all in fun. What upsets me is the harsh way in which you tore down her dreams of becoming a doctor.
You may be quite right in saying that Angelique will not be able to become a doctor through her current course of schooling or attitude to learning. It is the way you went about it that upsets me so.
Angelique is far from emotionally mature and your tone in addition to the things you were saying about the poor girls dreams hurt her. The pain caused was visible from how she looked. Although she regained her composure quite quickly, the damage was done.
I must speak up about your husband, Mr Herbert Mueller. It seems to me that although you are no longer living with him as though married, you will not deter him from interfering in your St John life. For the sake of professionalism, something must be done. You put the image and reputation of St John Ambulance in jeopardy by allowing him to loiter around our vehicle whilst on duty.
Mr Mueller is not only a hazard to the oxygen tank due to his habit of smoking beside our vehicle, there are hygiene issues. Mr Mueller does not care much for his appearance or personal hygiene and these standards are absolutely foul. Such poor hygiene within the vicinity of our vehicle used for the treatment of the injured public is not acceptable.
Mr Mueller is also far from self aware and problematic when it is necessary to treat casualties. I have had to remove Mr Mueller from where I was treating once as he was trying to tell a casualty with an injured leg to move as the casualty was in his chair. I was made to waste my time and the incident did not look good for St John Ambulance's reputation.
I regret to inform you, Mrs Warrington, that I am severely displeased with the current goings on of this division and I am questioning my role in its participation. I feel that perhaps a short reprieve from the division is necessary so that the division will be able to make reparations and so that I may also remove myself from that which displeases me.
Miss Amy Miller
Senior Cadet Corporal
Cardinia Combined Division
St John Ambulance Australia
04 May, 2010
Fuck This Shit. I'm Going To Hogwarts!
Do you ever wish that an imaginary place was real? Wouldn't the whole world be better off if it was?
I have discovered yet another of my idiosyncrasies: If I don't like it, I'm not there. I even shout it at appropriate moments to make my point. Just last week my parents were fighting when I did indeed shout the following statement at them: "Fuck this shit, I'm going to Hogwarts!"
It is to protect me from something I don't want to face.
Be wary of Hogwarts and don't question me if I leave to go there.
I have discovered yet another of my idiosyncrasies: If I don't like it, I'm not there. I even shout it at appropriate moments to make my point. Just last week my parents were fighting when I did indeed shout the following statement at them: "Fuck this shit, I'm going to Hogwarts!"
It is to protect me from something I don't want to face.
Be wary of Hogwarts and don't question me if I leave to go there.
03 May, 2010
For Funsies
Ok, so we all know I'm weird. At least, you SHOULD even if you don't.
So, I have come up with three challenges and it is your task to complete one if you can. Or two or all of them if you're super awesome.
"Why?" you whine to me. Because I am awesome and you will be rewarded. Nothing like the idea of a mystery prize to get people to do things for you.
"What?" you ask. I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Naturally these tasks are a tad odd and you may not like any of them so you'll just be lame and do none. The last should be fun. The first definitely is.
Proof is needed for all tasks. This is photos, signed notes, etc. I can help you but only once and once only (not once for any task)
Task Uno:
Obtain a complete outfit of other peoples clothing and then wear it.
RULES: You may only get one piece of clothing from any person. Socks don't count as one but you get extra marks for odd socks or socks from different people. Even if you're a guy, this means getting a bra. You don't have to wear the person underwear.
Task Two:
Wear only an outfit of post-it notes for no less than 3 hours.
Rules: Gladwrap may be used to help keep the post-it notes on. You have to have at least one landmark in your proof photos. A landmark is a school, pizza shop, post office, laundromat etc.
Task Three:
May 72 peoples days in the city - Give free hugs!
Rules: You have to have a free hugs sign. You need a photo for EVERY person you hug. Multiple people in a photo count.
Have fun...First to complete wins the ultimate prize :D
Pick a task and let me know or help me with mine: Task UNO
I need:
Hat
Tie
2x socks
Top
Pants/skirt/shorts
Bra
Underwear
Jacket/jumper
So, I have come up with three challenges and it is your task to complete one if you can. Or two or all of them if you're super awesome.
"Why?" you whine to me. Because I am awesome and you will be rewarded. Nothing like the idea of a mystery prize to get people to do things for you.
"What?" you ask. I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Naturally these tasks are a tad odd and you may not like any of them so you'll just be lame and do none. The last should be fun. The first definitely is.
Proof is needed for all tasks. This is photos, signed notes, etc. I can help you but only once and once only (not once for any task)
Task Uno:
Obtain a complete outfit of other peoples clothing and then wear it.
RULES: You may only get one piece of clothing from any person. Socks don't count as one but you get extra marks for odd socks or socks from different people. Even if you're a guy, this means getting a bra. You don't have to wear the person underwear.
Task Two:
Wear only an outfit of post-it notes for no less than 3 hours.
Rules: Gladwrap may be used to help keep the post-it notes on. You have to have at least one landmark in your proof photos. A landmark is a school, pizza shop, post office, laundromat etc.
Task Three:
May 72 peoples days in the city - Give free hugs!
Rules: You have to have a free hugs sign. You need a photo for EVERY person you hug. Multiple people in a photo count.
Have fun...First to complete wins the ultimate prize :D
Pick a task and let me know or help me with mine: Task UNO
I need:
Hat
Tie
2x socks
Top
Pants/skirt/shorts
Bra
Underwear
Jacket/jumper
Little Sara
Let's tell a story. Seven and a half years ago when my friend Mark found out his mum was in labour, he came over to my house. All he wanted was for me to help him make a bracelet for his little sister currently fighting her way into the world. So I helped him. It was a bright bracelet that he made, with deep reds and blues. There was even a tiny bit of pink.
The red spheres are for Oma, Opa, Darcy, Mark, Sara and the bunnies, Flops, Breakfast and Huff.
I used to look after Sara after school when she was really little because her mum had to work. When she was about three, they moved away and I didn't see her as much.
Last year, Mark was with his mum packing up their stuff and getting ready to leave. By the time the smoke was close enough to inhale, his mum was sprinting across the back of their property trying to get down to the gum trees where Sara was playing with their sheepdog.
Then Mark forced her to leave.
Mark walked all the way from the end of Army Road to my house at 4am in the morning. He sat there and talked to me for a couple hours. He told me he'd had to pick his mum up and carry her to the car because she wouldn't leave. We fell asleep at about five. Mark woke me up at seven. He'd walked all that way just to talk to me. Then he just gave me her bracelet and left. I didn't understand for a while because he stopped where I did. And then started again.
For Mark,whose sister I have known all her life. All six years.
Fire burning through my nights
The fretful dreaming in my mind
Children caught who now roam free
Outlived their days with none to see
I hold a bracelet with bloody flowers
Reminding me of how you spent your hours
Crying, hurting and caught in flames
To never speak or smile again
You keep me turning and I scream
As I feel the pain you must have been
In; While my flesh burns from the heat
I cling to a bracelet of garish beads
With a dog curled by my side
I relive each night how you died
And every breath holds hate and spite
For one inferno sparked from one light
I cannot breath now, my chest is tight
Flames remind me of you tonight
You hold my hand until I believe
There will be sleep and you leave
I am awake and dazed - My throat is dry
Your bracelet rests before my eyes
I miss you Sara so I cry.
The red spheres are for Oma, Opa, Darcy, Mark, Sara and the bunnies, Flops, Breakfast and Huff.
I used to look after Sara after school when she was really little because her mum had to work. When she was about three, they moved away and I didn't see her as much.
Last year, Mark was with his mum packing up their stuff and getting ready to leave. By the time the smoke was close enough to inhale, his mum was sprinting across the back of their property trying to get down to the gum trees where Sara was playing with their sheepdog.
Then Mark forced her to leave.
Mark walked all the way from the end of Army Road to my house at 4am in the morning. He sat there and talked to me for a couple hours. He told me he'd had to pick his mum up and carry her to the car because she wouldn't leave. We fell asleep at about five. Mark woke me up at seven. He'd walked all that way just to talk to me. Then he just gave me her bracelet and left. I didn't understand for a while because he stopped where I did. And then started again.
For Mark,whose sister I have known all her life. All six years.
Fire burning through my nights
The fretful dreaming in my mind
Children caught who now roam free
Outlived their days with none to see
I hold a bracelet with bloody flowers
Reminding me of how you spent your hours
Crying, hurting and caught in flames
To never speak or smile again
You keep me turning and I scream
As I feel the pain you must have been
In; While my flesh burns from the heat
I cling to a bracelet of garish beads
With a dog curled by my side
I relive each night how you died
And every breath holds hate and spite
For one inferno sparked from one light
I cannot breath now, my chest is tight
Flames remind me of you tonight
You hold my hand until I believe
There will be sleep and you leave
I am awake and dazed - My throat is dry
Your bracelet rests before my eyes
I miss you Sara so I cry.
02 May, 2010
Real Mature Kids.
You're fifteen. She's sixteen (just). You do NOT get to plan to get married or have kids. Get a life and be mature!
You want to crack the shits with me? Go ahead: Prove my point.
You may not ask a lot but you ask it often and it adds up to one big heap of "I can't be fucked any more". I honestly don't give a shit if he calls you or if you call him. It's not my business nor is it my job to care. So keep me out of it.
I never boss you around over your relationship. I only ever tell you what displeases me about it. I don't have to be happy with your stupid "I wuvv yous" or pet names. Again, it's none of my business.
I don't hate you for being with my brother. I hate that you are both being ridiculously immature about your relationship. You were told NOT to have sex for a reason. The reason is that you could end up with consequences that need to be carried around for nearly ten months. You are not mature enough for that. Neither of you are.
You want to get married. You're even engaged. You're also very, very stupid and naive. Go ahead and be in love but don't expect much support. You two need to grow up a great deal before you are in any way ready to be partnered FOR LIFE.
Do you know what that scare cost this family?
If you can't even follow correct English conventions, how the hell are you supposed to prove you can make MATURE decisions in your life? You want to be a big girl and man up to what you did? Do your parents know what happened? Or don't they need to, right?
Your family IS my family if you want to be mature about your relationship. I'm not putting this on you. I'm putting it on you AND Scott. It takes two to have sex.
Try screwing up your life on your own time when we no longer count.
You want to crack the shits with me? Go ahead: Prove my point.
You may not ask a lot but you ask it often and it adds up to one big heap of "I can't be fucked any more". I honestly don't give a shit if he calls you or if you call him. It's not my business nor is it my job to care. So keep me out of it.
I never boss you around over your relationship. I only ever tell you what displeases me about it. I don't have to be happy with your stupid "I wuvv yous" or pet names. Again, it's none of my business.
I don't hate you for being with my brother. I hate that you are both being ridiculously immature about your relationship. You were told NOT to have sex for a reason. The reason is that you could end up with consequences that need to be carried around for nearly ten months. You are not mature enough for that. Neither of you are.
You want to get married. You're even engaged. You're also very, very stupid and naive. Go ahead and be in love but don't expect much support. You two need to grow up a great deal before you are in any way ready to be partnered FOR LIFE.
Do you know what that scare cost this family?
If you can't even follow correct English conventions, how the hell are you supposed to prove you can make MATURE decisions in your life? You want to be a big girl and man up to what you did? Do your parents know what happened? Or don't they need to, right?
Your family IS my family if you want to be mature about your relationship. I'm not putting this on you. I'm putting it on you AND Scott. It takes two to have sex.
Try screwing up your life on your own time when we no longer count.
Something Unpredictable. But In The End It's Right
Holy SHIT! I had the time of my life tonight. I was supposed to be on duty but hey, firies are volunteers too and Hils was cool with it. I even managed to leave the venue with a guys shirt and a tie o.O. I am a Hopper!
For my awesomely awesomeness, I have hereby been inducted into the Hoppers Crossing Firie community. I also got to learn the motto: The hotter you are the faster we come. And of course: If you call us hot and heavy, we'll leave you wet. Gotta love firies. And Matt, who smells good even if it's mostly wood smoke.
It was good to talk to him. He was ridiculous but in a fun way that made me forgive his stoopidity.
I was made for wearing other peoples clothes.
From the comfort of Matt's top, I hereby xxxoo you
Sweet Dreams
St John Girl
For my awesomely awesomeness, I have hereby been inducted into the Hoppers Crossing Firie community. I also got to learn the motto: The hotter you are the faster we come. And of course: If you call us hot and heavy, we'll leave you wet. Gotta love firies. And Matt, who smells good even if it's mostly wood smoke.
It was good to talk to him. He was ridiculous but in a fun way that made me forgive his stoopidity.
I was made for wearing other peoples clothes.
From the comfort of Matt's top, I hereby xxxoo you
Sweet Dreams
St John Girl
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