eyes like a shutter. mind like a lens.

Every now and then I find myself reflecting back on my childhood. It's interesting the selected memories we keep. I remember running around my backyard in my underwear with squiggle pens at dusk, it was my birthday. These memories play over in my mind like a silent film on a projector. I remember my best friend pulling the finger at me and feeling completely confused on why I felt hurt by a middle finger. I remember learning swear words in the top of the wattle tree. I remember learning the meaning of 'molested' because I was a fan of Michael Jackson. I remember winning third in a running race on sports day because they girl in front of me fell into a pot hole and spranged her ankle. Then there are the memories that are completely fabricated. I have a memory of being put into the car after falling asleep at a John Farnham concert however my mum assures me we were never ever at a John Farnham concert. So why the memory? Perhaps just a fucked up dream that has snuck its way into my memory register.

Looking back, I realised that I was quite the racist child. I remember walking home with my mum one night and telling her that I would never marry a black man. I was seven. As mentioned above, I was a big Michael Jackson fan (still am) and after seeing a photo of a little African American boy who mum explained was Michael Jackson as a child, I cried on my bed. My little nine year old mind was spinning to figure out how a little black boy grew up to be a white man. And then there was the neighbours of my best friend, they were Aboriginals. Her bible bashing mother banned us from playing with the kids next door because apparently they were unhygenic and bad influences and I believed her. Somehow I managed to grow up open minded without a single racist bone in my body but boy was that a weird stage of life!

I got to wondering why these childhood memories pop in my mind. In time of chaos and uncertainty, could it be a friendly reminder of the person you once were? Innocent and free. I've been spending more time with my sister because being around family grounds you like nothing else. The people that have known you since birth can somehow take all the pettiness and confusion out of your problems and for a moment you feel like that little girl again running around in her underwear in the backyard with squiggle pens.

I had a dream you were a big African

guy that called me a child and then

laughed. I walked away crying swearing

I would never have anything to do with you 

again. Even though it wasn't really you.

I looked back and missed your skinny

white boy legs.

speak and spell.

Time has passed by quickly that it feels somewhere between September and October already. I've been a happy balance of both busy and lazy but I feel so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that time has lost all meaning. I'm into my third week of school and I have that first grade glow about me when I'm there. When I'm not there, I forget I actually have school work to do and finding the motiviation to do it is like trying to find the motivation to slit my wrists, I just don't want to.

I think part of the reason I don't write on this little blog anymore is because I'm sick of writing about my bullshit problems and trivial rants. I'm sick to death of hearing about it, I'm sure others are. And besides, I've made a promise to myself that this year I try to be more private. I have this problem you see, I'm an open book. You can read my facial expressions as clear as black and white. Even my face denies me the right to be mysterious. And if I'm not failing to keep my own secrets then I'm projectile vomiting it out to anyone with ears and a brain. Talk less. Think more.

Dear Miss Taylor,

"Congratulations, you have been offered a place at RMIT University in 2010...."

Finally.

And I'm not complaining about the long wait to recieve such positive news, I mean, FINALLY I have followed through with something I truely want for myself and I achieved just that. Every year I would come up with some pipe dream to study and every year would end with me saying "perhaps next year". But not this time. This time I did it.  It doesn't come with out hurdles and changes and debt beyond my mental capacity but all that takes backseat because now I have something positive to put all my energy into.

I use the word 'backseat' loosly and almost quite literally,  all those problems are still causing me to stress to the point of enlarged organs (thats another story) they're literally like the annoying children in the backseat screaming at me, "ARE WE THERE YET?! ARE WE THERE YET?!". I have to keep stopping myself from turning around and screaming right back, "DON'T MAKE ME TURN THIS CAR AROUND!".  Because, can I really do this? Can I go back to school and do well? It's been almost 6 years since I last studied and I remember being 17 and hating it. Although, I'm older now and sometimes like to think myself wiser but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't filled with nervous butterflies.

I think I'll be one of those nerdy uni students, perhaps I'll even swap my contact lens for thick, black rimmed glasses and quote lines from Woody Allen films. I'll wear baggy cardigans and no make up and start eating sushi. Who am I kidding? I fucking hate sushi.
I have other interesting and confusing events taking place but I'm keeping this one close at heart. I wouldn't know where to start anyway.

tea, anyone?

I've been neglecting this little blog for a couple of weeks now. Come to think of it, I've been neglecting a lot of things lately. From trying to find a new job down to taking 3 dirty plates, 2 half drunk mugs of tea and two beers down to the kitchen. My priorites are all messed up and I find myself putting so much energy into all the wrong things. If I only I could take that energy and tranfer into something useful, something creative and productive. The thing is, I can do that but my mind tends to travel elsewhere and I daydream the days away. It's already nearing the end of January and this year has already proved to be difficult. No major decisions have been made but that truely is not my fault. Still awaiting a much anticipated letter but I fear it'll be too late anyway, giving me only one option in the end. Makes it easier I guess. Still craving change, the only thing I could afford to fullfill such a big wish was getting my fringe cut. Baby steps.

Kicking old habits and learning from my mistakes has been my ultimate goal lately. Achieve that and hopefully I'll stop neglecting such tedious chores. Which is a good thing, the milk in my mug of tea has started to evaporate. Seriously.


*HI DAVID!

And so it is..

 The 5th of January. I dreaded today, I even almost wanted to take the day off work to hide under my doona all day and cry. But to be honest, I'm handling it all a lot better than I thought I would. Although I plan on surrounding myself with family and friends tonight to ease the pain. I still remember this day three years ago. Funny story actually. I had gone out the night before and drank myself into a well mess. I woke up in Hannah's apartment only wearing a tiny blue peticoat. Something didn't feel right. After a big night out I always check that I have my belongings because chances that I have lost something are usually pretty high. Yep, it was one of those nights. Passport, telephone and camera, all gone. Thank god I had Hannah's house keys. I raced down the street to Alex's house, still wearing nothing but a tiny blue peticoat, hoping he could help me out. He wasn't much better off than me so figuring out what happened the night before was making my head spin. Long story short....I fell over quite alot causing massive carpet burns to the kneecaps, my friend Andy helped me home and put my phone in the letterbox, the passport was found near Dylan's computer (no doubt trying to check my Myspace when I got home) but the camera was long gone. I was a wreck. I hadn't felt that hung over in a long time. No, actually that's a lie, I was going out a lot in those days.

I spent all day feeling sorry for myself until Hannah called me and invited me over to Will's brother's house where he was house sitting. They drove over and picked me up, gave me a hug and reassured me that everything would be okay. The hang over subsided. And then I met him. Safe to say, I wasn't looking my best. I had those hung over, glazed eyes, my kneecaps were speckled with blood and I didn't wash my hair as I was going for that 'bed head' look. I said "Hello" and he said "Oh my god Jen! What happened to your knees!!!???". The night entailed smoking too much weed in the heat, stealing garden gnomes, rearranging people's gardens, playing in the park, eating Thai Beef Salad, dancing with sparklers and watching Donnie Darko with a kiss. And as the famous saying goes, the rest is history.

I look back fondly and smile with watery eyes. Don't be sad it's over. Be happy that it happened.