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Posts Tagged ‘dancing’

As I promised, here I am again today with more on all that jazz I was going to talk about yesterday. After I wrote the blog I realised I forgot to mention that I have a new chicken to keep Ooccoo company now, called Poe. Actually, we think it might be a rooster. Which I wouldn’t mind – roosters have pretty feathers – but we may not be allowed to keep him if he is a he.

The big one on the left is Ooccoo, the black one on the right is Poe. He/She/It is younger than Ooccoo, which is why he/she/it is smaller.

Back onto my topics from yesterday, I’m going to start by saying that because Mel is such a huge fan of Titanic, and it is being re-released in 3D, I and Lizzy are going to accompany her to see it and pretend to cry with her because frankly, I just get angry – it could have been a slightly happy ending if they hadn’t wasted so much time talking at the end! All I’m saying. While we’re at it, we’re going to see The Hunger Games again because Mel wants to see it too, so we’ve decided to make a whole day of it and the three of us are going to organise to go to Penrith or something and spend the day up there. It’ll be great!

Anyway, the day before yesterday…

Yeah, Tuesday. Anyway my pop came around so I could show him how to use his phone – he’s a faster learner than my dad at any rate – and my pop’s a real storyteller, and it’s really interesting to listen to his stories about his childhood or when he worked here or there because my pop likes to joke around a lot and always has. A lot of his stories revolve around practical jokes or the kinds of trouble he got into – he was caned once in his entire school career, and it was his last day of school. He left at 15 because his dad wanted him to start working, which he did. But because he didn’t feel like there was any point paying attention if he was leaving, the teacher noticed and caned him. He says he will never forget how humiliating it was, not to mention painful. So I told him he should write his memoirs and he told me he’s started to but is finding it very difficult. I can relate to that, because organising your thoughts, the way you speak, into coherent text is a lot harder than it looks. I keep wanting to write stuff down now, some of the really good memories, because I can already feel details slipping away and I know if I want to write my memoirs someday – not to be published, necessarily – I should start now when things are fresh rather than in my old age.

My pop has always kept a diary, I can never dedicate myself to that kind of thing, but he has, and I think if he never finishes his memoirs himself, if I used his diaries I would like to write them for him. He told us about my great-grandmother yesterday, I had never known very much about her, but his mother actually had a pretty hard life. She was raised by a nanny and believed that she was her mother, and her real mother was this woman who came by once in a while. And then her mother, her real one, decided she wanted to go to Australia and took her away and she was apparently taken from the nanny by this stranger kicking and screaming. Her mother had another child in Australia and after her father died she decided she wanted to go back to England, and because my great-grandmother didn’t want to go, she was adopted out to this farming family who only ‘adopted’ her to use as labour and they would beat her and abuse her. And she met my great-grandfather and he was apparently a fairly violent man and she ‘copped a bit from him’ though I think never so bad as what she got from that farming family. Still, it’s all stuff I didn’t know and it was morbidly fascinating.

Usually though my pop’s stories are funny anecdotes, a lot more light-hearted than that. He likes to make me squirm by telling me about the huntsmen he ran into frequently when he worked at the banana plantation. I hate spiders, all shapes and sizes, even money spiders, and he knows that and loves to make me uncomfortable by telling these stories. My mum does it too, maybe she inherited, tells me about the time she walked out of the shower and a huntsman dropped onto her head.

Damn straight. Neither am I.

Now onto the story of Lizzy’s and my movie! The title is a working one, probably not what we’ll keep: The Cool Third Wheel. It came about because Lizzy and I were talking about how if she ever got into a relationship, I would just be there all the time, but everyone would be okay with it for some reason. And Lizzy was like, ‘That’d be an interesting movie’ and so we jokingly started talking about scenes wherein I, the cool third wheel, would constantly be interrupting couple time and everyone would be really tolerant or amused. Then at some point we started taking it more seriously. We want it to be like ‘a year in the life’ type of thing, where the couple’s developing relationship is told throughout the year but always with the third wheel attached. We had a whole Halloween scenario, the couple’s early days, I’d be dressed as a vampire or something.

Friend: Ahem. We kind of want a bit of privacy just at the moment.
Third Wheel: Oh alright then. I’ll just sashay off then! *Sweeps cape around dramatically and leaves cafe*
Girl or Boyfriend: Is she always like that?
Friend: You get used to it after a while.
Third Wheel: *Re-enters, standing by the door* I forgot my brain in a jar. *Grabs a jar with a little fake brain inside it from the table by the door and leaves again*
Friend: It takes a while, but you do get used to it.

Scenes like that, because I’m that kind of a person.

We’re kind of excited to do it because we don’t want to do a heterosexual couple, we want to do two girls in a relationship, this because while it is breaking through into prime time television and so on, same-sex relationships aren’t shown often enough and when they are they’re usually (not always) but usually two men. We just wanted to try two women. We’re looking for friend willing to help us out – we have one already, PK is going to do it as long as we pay him in rainbow cupcakes. I think we can manage this.

  

There should also be pie involved.

     

So there’s that, and Lizzy and I have to write the script and stuff, but it seems like it’d be lots of fun! And to save on props, we’re thinking we’ll just film special occasions when they arise – like Halloween and Christmas and Easter and stuff, we’ll film when they’re actually happening so we don’t have to stock up on supplies… is that cheating? No! It’s resourcefulness.

I have a to do list today as well; I’ve got to do some packing, sort through some DVDs, have something to eat (maybe pie!) and actually get dressed. All before 3:30pm… and since it’s 1:14pm now, I probably should get started. So I will have to leave it again now. I swear I had more to say again but I suppose the mood passed me. Never mind, I’ll get on it again later. I’ll have to write about my weekend away and stuff when I get back, so look forward to that. Meanwhile, I’m going to watch some Supernatural! OH! AND HAPPY EASTER.

Lazily,
Lexiconish.

Mood:  This one speaks for itself.
Music: Heat of the Moment – Asia (and all Supernatural fans know why!)
Reading: Once again, Destiel fanfictions.

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Hello again!

I am officially finished school. I have the HSC exams to do, but officially I have completed thirteen years of school. Yay!

We have been working really hard, and the final week of school was pretty much the time for us to all break loose as a grade one last time before we all part ways to become the new youth of the world.

Monday was a car wash, to raise money for our formal at the end of the year, and fun as that was we also had an auction. Of slaves. My year put themselves on the line and found out their value to the community. I think the highest bid was somewhere around $100, but for a human life that’s pretty cheap. My friend Lizzy bought my friends Ryan, Tate and Will – we tried to buy Connor, Liam and Max too but we weren’t loud enough. Lizzy loaned them to us, and they went for $42. Two girls went for $2.

After that, on Tuesday we held a sausage sizzle to raise even more money, and it was a success. I didn’t organise it but I bought a drink from it and none of us went to classes that day. Except my ancient history class – dedication or what?

Wednesday was Slave Day itself. Lizzy took our three slaves to the art building and loaned Will to Yaniah in photography. Lizzy and I didn’t have any classes so we amused ourselves in an art room with Amanda. During second period we decided to send Ryan and Tate out to dance in front of everyone, which sparked the amazing idea of getting them to dance for a little more fundraising. They were all dressed in suits and sunglasses with water guns, as the Russian mafia. They had accents and everything; they’re good at accents. Anyway, we made a sign “Russian Mafia Dance Crew” with the logo and then we marched out at recess to dance. I carried a sign explaining that songs or dance moves could be requested for a coin donation – even 5c would be acceptable. Lizzy pumped music from the art room out the window and it was great fun, though we only ended up making $2.20 from it.

Thursday was Muck Up Day. Lots of things happen on Muck Up Day – it used to be a much bigger event, actually. When my parents were in year 12, my dad’s year flooded a quad using sandbags to block it off and raced little paper boats across the surface. My mother and her friends kidnapped their science teacher and tied her (in a raincoat) to the flag pole, throwing water bombs and such at her. A few years ago the students covered one side of a teacher’s car in L plates, leaving the driver side blank so that she wouldn’t notice initially. That kind of thing is no longer allowed – why, every year it is tradtition to take over the assembly. My mother’s year did it dressed as nazis in a jeep back when they had assemblies outside. But were we allowed? No. They forbid us from entering the hall. So in revenge, we covered the stairs outside the exit in plastic cups and filled them all with water:

ys

Additionally we had a Great Debate between students and teachers with the topic “Students are more insane than teachers” with the students on the negative. It was a lot of fun and very entertaining – I was part of the team and got up to speak, so I feel quite proud of myself! It was just a lot of nonsense, but so very worth while.

Finally today was the presentation – the grand finale. There were tears. There was laughter. Most importantly, there was an end. How am I celebrating? I, ladies and gents, am going to a ball. Don’t worry. There will be photos.

… I had been dancing a lot. Sadly, the above image is me!

Music: Mr Blue Sky – ELO
Mood: Tired
Book: Artemis Fowl – Annual Reading Number One

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