And The Eyes Have It

Eyes have to be one of the coolest body parts and not just because without them you'd lose one of your senses... I am not saying that isn't a really cool feature. They are some of the most detailed passive sensors on the planet - certainly camera technologies still stuggles with the elusive 3D we take for granted with our eyes.



More than all that. Eyes are simply so integral to human iterations. You can communicate so much with your eyes. Making eye contact or intentionally avoiding eye contact tells the person you are talking to... and often even the other people around you... more than you really wanted to give away.



Certainly I feel like I am giving entirely too much away when my eyes connect with a certain male friend of mine. One of my friends noted our verifiable staring contest during a game of cards not long back and I have become entirely too aware of it. I don't like not knowing how much he can discern from my eyes.



Of course sometimes you want to give all away. For instance when you are clearly frustrated with a person.What's guaranteed to make my eyes roll?

Apparently I used to be worse at the ole eye roll. But then I think the height of most people's eye roll days occur during high school. I know my younger brother is the worst for it.... I can certainly tell you what makes his eye's roll... Just about anything our mum has to say will set that off.



My own eye rolling tendencies are not as obvious. Then I have been told numerous times by my mum that I have an expressive face in general. Eye rolling just isn't one of the things I utilise I on a regular basis. But certainly stupid people saying stupid things a second or third time is liable to make me roll my eyes... though twitching my lower eye-lid is much more likely...



When I actually roll my eyes? When I am reading a book... in fact this is probably the most genuine and frequent eye-rolling. Anybody who can read a romance novel without rolling their eyes or all out burying their head in a pillow to prevent the horribly cliqued (or just plain ridiculous) words... Well to be perfectly honest I don't believe you. I am a great lover of the romance genre but it is hard not to throw away the book at times to prevent the horror of the outrageous.



Other times I roll my eyes. When somebody is rude to my face. Not necessarily the best plan because it only serves to piss them off more... So I do it less than I used to. Still when somebody has done something clearly wrong and decides to give me a chew out. I can't help myself. It is my You are clearly a bitch and I'm not listening reaction.



Nevertheless there are far more interesting things to be done with eyes. Reflect your unspoken emotions whether to show sympathy or beg for forgiveness. To show somebody you love them or let your hatred show without having to resort to actions or harsh words. Eyes can be used in so many ways... I am certainly glad I have them ;P

Not A Prophetic Dreamer

Ok Plinky... I'm a little bit disappointed in this topic. I am not saying it is not possible. But to imply that every member of the human race has had a prophetic dream is expecting a little much. Experienced de ja vu (however thats spelt) yes but recall of a specific memory or dream in which it has happened before sadly not.



Describe a dream that you have had that was prophetic in nature. Perhaps you are expecting me to have dreamed the September Eleven bombings as a 10 year old child? Or maybe have predicted winning some award at the high school assembly (I did randomly do that once but it wasn't a dream merely a bizarre thought so I don't think that counts). Apparently I got it simply so the house leader could put a face to a name.



Never the less I don't have actual dreams that are prophetic in nature. Why? Probably because if my dreams came true life would be entirely too weird. To illustrate this I will describe instead my most bizarre dream of this year.

broken mario kart

I am going to go ahead and assume anybody who has managed to stumble upon this piece of goodness in the wide wonderful web knows what Mario Kart is. Car racing computer game favoured by children and the children-at-heart around the world. With me so far?



Everybody who has ever played these games will know the hard levels. For the various Mario Kart reincarnates there are slightly different levels but the one thing the hard levels have in common is generally the much larger proportionality of meaningless points, jumps and potential free falls. High lights I would say were the Yoshi track (where there is a maze of potential roads provided you don't fall off), the donkey kong levels where it flies you to the top of the hill and you ride back down (is it my memory or has there been more than one of these tracks?) and the rainbow road - everybody has at least tried to make that darn short cut.



Anyway back to my dream. The donkey kong level is important. I didn't dream about it specifically but it was definitely a donkey kong level. I was driving up and a round a hill and there was a really big barrel on my left at one point (yes it was a remarkably vivid dream which i remembered when i woke up).



So I was driving my kart... it was one of the latest generation karts cuz i had a double partner but I can't remember who it was... I just know they were throwing bananas on the road at one point. And I was looking for my dogs... I think this was my brains way of missing my pugs who still live at home while I am not.



I was racing some undetermined enemy to get my dogs as well as needing to get them off the road before they were run over or something similar. So for a while it is simply a Mario Kart race. Then I spot them.. or at least one of them... She is easy enough to get to. The other one however is around up the corner.



I spot her. It is going to involve a rather detailed manoeuvre to get to her though. She is on another track which is running off to my left and she is heading the other direction. There is one place where I can switch tracks. A small break in the barbed wire fence (yep... the rabbit proof fence is making an appearance - perhaps not quite) coming up on my left and I have to get through it or my enemy will have killed my pet.



Wait a second where did Sady go? I have lost the first dog I picked up... Nevertheless wherever she has disappeared to she must be safe for she is no longer relevant. I go into this amazing drift manoeuvre my tire sparks are blue, then red... I am going to make it through this gap... and I wake up...



You can understand I really REALLY wanted to go back to sleep that night... I don't remember them often but the dreams I do remember are nothing if not elaborate.

Lollies and Chocolates... and Bears Oh My!

Plinky... your killing me here... What is your favourite comfort food, and why? I am making a concerted effort to eat healthy at the moment. I don't call it dieting I am not eating less or much differently. Perhaps a good term for it would be retraining. I am retraining myself to few junk food as an almost never food rather than an almost everyday food - that is all.



Still having to pick my favourite comfort food when I have been trying NOT to think about these kinds of foods for just over a week (my friend tells me it gets easier after 3 weeks and I hope she is telling the truth) its pretty hard. Already I want to eat the caramello koala I have in my cupboard. I won't though.



Not that that is my favourite comfort food. Actually I am not sure if I have a favourite comfort food. I have a lot of different ones depending on my mood, why I am needing the comfort food, what is available in the general vicinity. At this point I admit to being an emotional eater, and a pretty bad one at that.



Funnily enough I did a brief on emotional eating and lifestyle diseases only yesterday with our fitness instructors. This seems to be the week for targeting my emotional eater tendencies.

Chocolate pieces

Well I am probably going to have to say that most often my comfort food is chocolate. Everybody knows that all the fun chemicals in chocolate generally make you feel pretty good - and most people eat it enough that their body knows that too. I have a particular weakness for coconut chocolate (coconut rough or similar) but I will happily eat most - I mean who wouldn't?



Just the same I often crave for food which is not chocolate. I am not referring to a particular food that happens to not be chocolate; literally a food which is not chocolate. At those times I simply don't want the texture of chocolate rather something more crunchy and generally go for the good ole packet of salt and vinegar chips.



I am going to stop now before I break down and am forced to comfort myself with my delightful caramello koala. I just hope that reading these answers don't make you feel in need of some pick me up comfort... be strong!

Teen Me...Still Me...

Me as a teenager... well I am still a teenager - just... Just the same I am going to backtrack the the high school teenage me. After all I am three years out of home and a world away from my younger teenage self (scary how that happens almost without you noticing it). So I'll describe myself as a high school senior (once again for any americans that means year 11-12.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words (probably more when the topic is what did you look like as a teen) I guess I'll start there.



So it was ridiculously hard to find an ok picture of myself... So many are blurred or very cringe worthy (there aren't that many cringe worthy but enough). That is me on the left... NOT the red-head... If you want to hear a little more about her she is my best friend. That is actually taken in year 9 so that's me at only 13... A teen of less than a year you could say... Scare that I still haven't changed much except to age in the face... like everybody (except my sgt) does... That is our junior school uniform (years 8-10) so the clothes that I wore more than anything else for 3 years of my life I guess.

I am a rather dull person to describe in my teens. Possibly in my life. That is me and yes to look at the photo you would still be able to identify me as the same person. I haven't ever dyed my hair (I know it is boring but I love my brown hair just the way it is) and haven't but more variety into its cut than longer layers once or twice - I've lived with my hair up since I worked out you can get away from it if its long enough to put up.

To be blunt my weight has never been ideal but it certainly hasn't changed. I reached my full height of 5'10" at 13 years of age so not even that has changed. My eyes are a brown to occasionally hazel (depending on who's saying it) colour. I wish I could say my skin has fully cleared... it was never particularly bad... but it isn't much better these days - hope for the future of course.

Maybe I should talk about the things that have changed... Well I generally avoid the folded ponytail hair look (see photo) since I worked out how to do a proper bun (its either that or a normal ponytail). My clothes have improved. I used to wear t-shirts and shorts with one or two sets of nice-ish clothes - I'm talking the kind of t-shirts you get from your holiday destinations or from going to a camp. Some of them were from 2001/02 up until about 2007.

Well... that was boring... I didn't do the experimenting with fluorescent hair dyes or pierce my eye brow, my belly button and my tongue to revolt against society. I was the straight laced, well sheltered, straight A student who's idea of a party generally involved dinner at Sizzler's (the local family friendly buffet restaurant). Such is life.

Best Friends Can't Be Justified

Who is your best friend, and why? I don't quite understand this question - at least not the way that it is currently written. Why? Are you seriously asking me that? I am not sure if you are expecting me to have to make a decision between a couple of friends or if you simply expect me to justify a friendship.



Friendships, certainly between best friends, don't need justification. Hell they don't even need a reason. I can remember our first conversation - the reason we spoke that first time. I'm not sure you could say that is why we became best friends though. People say that love happens when you least expect it. They are generally talking about the romantic love but I think best friend love is much the same way.



I love my best friend in a way I don't love anybody else. We consider one another to be soul mates. It is just a connection a comfortable bear all relationship like you could (well I certainly couldn't) not have with your family members (though I am not sure about the sister-sister relationships). She puts up with all my faults and I put up with hers.

Anyway I mentioned still remembering our first meeting before so I figured I'd relent and tell all about that. I came home to Australia from the US midway through my grade 8 school year (that is the bottom year of Queensland high school). After 2ish years away including the major primary to high school shift few of my friends were left around. I ended up in the school group that I did through the girl who had been my best friend in years 1,2,3 before she switched schools.



I think it would be fair to say I am a person designed to have a best friend. I have a naturally inclination towards having that one friend who I am truly myself with all the time. I also tend to rely on my best friend to be myself (be comfortable) amongst other people. I have had, to date, 4 best friends. The one above, the one 'Hannah' in grade 4,5,6, one during my time in the US and the one this is about. The only one I no longer have any connection to is Hannah but that's alright.



So this group, we were the behind the man. arts building group and there was anything between 8 and 15 people there at different times. Looking back I love how the groups worked back in high school. If I sit here these will be my friends kind of thing - doesn't work like that anymore. I am lucky if I manage to sit down to a meal with people who would actually talk to me... yes I live a lonely life.



Anyway we were sitting down to lunch and for some reason we were discussing best friends. What a topic hey? And SHE, a red headed girl I hadn't seen in the group before now, mentioned a name. I thought I heard wrong. Did she just say 'Hannah Jones' or was I hearing things? I checked it with her and no I hadn't heard wrong. Her old best friend had the same name as my old best friend. Surely that couldn't be a coincidence.



So the first conversation I had with my best friend was comparing notes about my old best friend. She had come to my school in year 4 after being at Steph's (my best friend) school for the first three years. I suppose it isn't surprising that if we would choose to be best friends with the same person we would probably get along but it is amazing how well we get along.



Ours is one of those bonds that you just have. I haven't seen her more than three times in a year since we finished school and yet I don't have a single friend to hold a candle to her. To be perfectly honest I only hope that I get a relationship half as deep and half as understand between myself and the man I marry. We can talk by way of a single text message or a three hour phone call. We can simply hang out in a hotel room, or go for a walk or come up with the most reckless and outrageous plan ever concocted.



Most of all though we can completely be ourselves one hundred percent of the time. Even though she doesn't get my Christian faith and I can't appreciate the desire to go out drinking on a Friday night. Even when she can't handle the crowds in a shopping centre for more than half an hour. Or when I spak out completely over something that should be insignificant.



Who knows why it is the way it is. Who knows why she puts up with me (I certainly wouldn't be my friend after I've gone off my tree after losing a game of Uno or because I didn't ace a maths exam). But she does so I repay the favour and love her unconditionally right back. I just pray that I will always have her as my friend.

My Worst Teacher: The Stupidest Substitute

Harsh topic today on plinky. Describe the worst teacher you ever had. If you have read some of my earlier posts you would know I generally have an aversion to the use of -est words. I often can't think of something that would fit it. I have to say however for this one I do have one exactly.



First off I am probably going to have to explain some background knowledge for this one. Lets go back in time to me as a high-school senior shall we (and by senior I am referring in the Australian way to the last 2 years of high school years 11 & 12).



Tallish, a little overweight, about as extroverted as a brick wall. I belonged to one of the more modest of the high school social groups. Moreso even I belonged to a subset with my two best friends and we basically spent all of our lunches in the library. Yep the most outrageous things I got up to at school was breaking a library rule or two. At this point I will also mention I was daughter of a chemistry teacher (not at my school quite intentionally).



Nevertheless I was reasonable well known amongst my classmates. The top of the class generally is. I'm not blowing my horn I just happen to be alright at academics and in public schooling. I was not alone at the top there was another of the boys who was known to beat me at least as often as I beat him. So basically in classes like maths or physics my opinion had a far bit of sway because I knew what I was talking about.

The worst teacher I had was thankfully only ever my substitute. Before you go saying that can't have been so had. I had him for 6 weeks of physics due to some issues in programming a real teacher into the class (We ended up with a second year teacher who has subsequently given the teaching scene the flick to be in his band full time nevertheless he was one of my best teachers. Goes to show some people just make good teachers.) I also had him for about a week in maths. He has the dubious honour of being the only teacher I ever outright disrespected. The only teacher to threaten to kick me out of the classroom.



Why? Because I considered him to be a stupid, stupid man. I will point out my mother was thoroughly in agreement with me. I was trying to think of how to describe his appearance best. I remember him as a cross between Einstein and a clown. Though his intelligence was far from Einstein and his 'stories' which were all he did do in class were completely pointless but not funny enough for him to earn true clown status. At least not in any positive sense.



I think my primary reason for disliking him is that we didn't do any and I mean absolutely ANY work while he was in charge of the class. I have far more important things to do in senior high level maths classes than sit around twiddling my thumbs and ignoring what some sub has to say.



Worse he didn't seem to get it that what he was doing wasn't helping my education in fact it was hindering it. When he did fry to lead the class through... well anything... I found it frustrating that I knew more about the subject matter than he did. So I acted out. I blatantly disrespected his wishes and talked back to his face - standard operating procedure for a lot of high school students sure but not me. I am and have always been a 'Yes sir, no sir' kind of student.



I always remember it as being almost kicked out once but in fact it was twice. One of those times I managed to get HIM to leave the classroom. I think he was a little afraid of me for some reason. Probably unlike the scarecrow from the wizard of oz and himself I actually had a brain - who knows. The other was in physics... I had just been rather chatty I'm pretty sure.



Anyway the day I made him leave the classroom. It was during his time in maths class. By which time I had already had to put up with him for 6 weeks as a useless physics teacher (how can you not learn ANYTHING in 6 weeks of year 12 physics) and a couple of other one-off substitutions. He arrived late-ish to class so most of us were in there seated. At which time I didn't realise that it was to be the dear old clown coming to substitute.



He was telling us about the fact that our teacher had gotten an unfortunate injury and he would have to be here for the next 3-4 days blah, blah, blah. No Macca was terrible though, another great teacher I had. Then he tried to start class with us all continuing to talk. Then he said something dumb (its too long ago to remember specifics). And dared to suggest that I was being unruly, which was true but nevertheless. I suggested that he leave then. He said instead he would go out and come back in again so we could get to work.



I merely suggested once more when he came back inside that he stay outside for the duration of the lesson. You could have heard a penny drop. All eyes were on me and as happens so rarely in disrespectful situations between students and teachers ALL of the students were on my side. Hell most of them (sans perhaps my close maths buddies) were surprised I would take a stand like that one. The look in his face was worth it I have to say. He looked pathetic torn between actually giving disciplinary action to me while and knowing that he was powerless to do anything to me. Ah the sweet satisfaction of winning it over on a teacher you hate.

Truth Serum

OOooo... Truth serum time. Guaranteed an honest response what question would I ask?



First off I would want to be checkin' the label on my truth serum. I mean its one thing to get an honest response to a closed question (yes, no, five, blue). It is a hole other ball game to be getting a fully detailed response to an open question and the downside to asking an open question when they are going to give you a closed answer is that it becomes rather ambiguous and you've learnt nothing.



Put another way it is the Hitchhiker's Guide dilemma. Am I going to ask a question only to realise I don't understand how that answer relates to my question. Afterall even knowing the answer to life, the universe and everything isn't very helpful when its simply the number 42. I'm certain the programmers (the mice) were hoping for something with a little more theory (though it was a closed question I do admit).

truth serum

To get into picking my question. There are two varieties of questions where the truth serum scenario would actually be of use. Which isn't to say that any question fits exclusively into one of the other category.

• Questions where you want to know what they are saying is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help them God.
  
  
  
  
• Questions that they aren't going to answer reasonably unless encouraged by a little of the great juice of truth.
  
  

I can think of questions of both kinds which would be useful. The questions which fit the former category are perhaps a little bit more self centred. Just the same they are probably the ones I'm going to want to ask the most. The really mundane to talk about questions like 'Why do you like me?' for the more open ones through to 'Do you like me better than she-bitch-that-shall-not-be-named?' as the pointed 'Yes I will take a one word response thanks'.



Mum would blame my personality for it, I just say it goes with my terrible perfectionism streak, but I have an inability to believe most good things people say about me. It would certainly give my ego a bit of a boost I'm sure (always assuming I get positive answers).



The other category of questions I fill largely with the 'I'm asking you this but you think its a joke' questions of life. For me the ones the come most readily to mind would be asking people what the believe in. As a Christian I am not necessarily sure the question comes up more often than it would between two non-Christians but I'm fairly certain the answers I get are influenced by the knowledge that I am one.



I'm not judgemental (well I am a little on occasion but not about that sort of thing and it has nothing to do with my choice of faith - and usually only after I've been beaten at something ie cards) and I don't care if you believe in nothing at all I just wish you'd say that rather than giving me the aggressive 'Believing in God is for pussies' viewpoint. If I don't judge you for what you believe I would much prefer it if you didn't judge me on what I believe.



So It really depends on who I'm asking the question to which of the two ways I would go. Don't expect me to pick a person that is one to many decisions for me to handle =P. People I know well or would consider my friends probably the 'why do you like me?'. Except for my best friend I believe her anyway (yes clearly my trust is rather hard to earn but then whose isn't) so I'd ask her the latter question about beliefs because after all this time I haven't worked out the answer.

Back to Libraries, Letters and Long Waits?

No internet? I'm a little confused here... what does that even entail? Is that simply no google - you could leave the network in place and remove all search engines and watch the world stop. Or all sites and e-mail (most certainly). Or worse yet any form of network between computers... I mean how would I LAN party then? (I don't LAN party by the way but I do have some very useful internal networks here at uni.) Lacking all networks would probably kill me instantaneously.



So Plinky wants to know 'Could I live without the Internet for a month?'. I like it. However the answer is, except for in extreme circumstances, no. By exceptional circumstances I am thinking an extended vacation with my closest friends to somewhere other than here. Provided I'm still allowed to have my mobile phone with its internet applications removed of course. It'd be a little bit like playing Survivor.

The Colorful Library of an Interaction Designer (Juhan Sonin) / 20100423.7D.05887.P1 / SML

To be honest if you could guarantee me the holiday I would happily go without the internet for a month. Though it would mean I would need something other than plinky and Facebook's Frontierville to occupy me.. A lifetime supply of romance novels and a readily available beach and pool? Done. That however wouldn't really being living my regular everyday life. I can't imagine having to do university study without oh-great-and-powerful Mr. Google or trying to get in contact with staff without the instantaneous email.



I can honestly say that I probably wouldn't do half as good as I do without the internet. What do you mean use the library? That would be going onto the website and having it show me useful electronic journal articles yes? Or simply going to the computers and using google... its quicker and unless you are referencing it nothing is easier to understand than all-knowing Wikipedia for most topics. I should perhaps also point out that I am an electrical engineering student with a large number of computer science courses. Code is easiest to write when you can deploy google for algorithm ideas and syntax issues.



How would students share work between them. I'm not talking about plagiarism simply constructive use of resources. You manage to track down the elusive answers to you ridiculous textbook - you share it out through email. You happen to have gotten a copy of the 'unreleased' exam questions from last year - you don't keep that kind of thing to yourself. You share it and you share it quick.



O'course more than that. How would I talk to home. I'm a writer rather than a talker. I imagine I sound pretty standoffish and withdrawn on the telephone - I certainly feel like I am. But I will happily talk on MSN (now Facebook chat how times have changed) or write an email. I write letters to some of my friends too but mainly because I like buying cards at the newsagent. It certainly wouldn't be a primary means of communication... I guess I could survive this with text message though.



As for that holiday plan of mine. It would only work if I had the internet up until I got there. Can you imagine having to book a holiday without the aid of the internet. I, for one, couldn't. Sure there are those lovely things called travel agents but I like to know what I personally have planned before I go there... If I go there at all.



So all in all I am dependent. I could potentially if I have to survive without internet but not without much complaining (I mean we all complain if it goes down for one hour let alone a month). I couldn't bare the tedious extra time it would take to use books or pen and paper. Sure telephone works for some things (couldn't live without that either - and both for the same month would be unimaginable)... but it certainly doesn't make things easy. If you gave me the choice I'd say no - GIVE ME MY INTERNET BACK!

My Pet Peeve Shouldn't Be So Weird

To start off I'm just going to say this is not my biggest pet peeve. The one thing I truly hate is knuckle cracking. Yes I do try to stop you. No it is not just because I want to go around ridding people of arthritis in their old age - apparently it doesn't effect that at all and to be honest I couldn't care less. I hate it because it is physically painful to me.



I have broken my left pointer a couple times including almost taking the tip off when a car door (a cool x-ray if nothing else) and jarring it in netball so badly that I couldn't play for about 3 weeks and it took about 4 months to stop hurting (probably would have been quicker if i'd taken more weeks off netball). Now I have a sensitivity to finger injuries. Not to mention I don't crack my knuckles and so when I do accidentally it hurts like a SOB. All in all the sound of knuckles being cracked is the most infuriating thing...



That however is not a weird pet peeve. While not, in most cases, as extreme as all that there are a lot of people out there who hate knuckle cracking. Basically you either do it... or you hate it passionately.



Anyway to find my weirdest pet peeve I am going to have to run through a few of my pet peeves to find a good one. The irritation of people who don't text back with confirmation - this is because I'm from a really 'lucky' area which despite being in the middle of town has very poor reception (its a literal hole) so if I don't here back I am going to have to expect that you didn't get it. How about people who run late - now there is about as most unweird a pet peeve as you can get - I am military standard meticulous for timings and hate when people around me make me miss them.

work hair

I have worked out that pet peeves are surprisingly hard to think of when they are not actively happening... but I think I have it. My weirdest pet peeve is girls who don't do their hair correctly. This is perhaps one that you have to be military to understand. I am not talking about being able to do really great up do's or self-dye your hair to perfection.



Basically girls who don't put their hair net in or use a wrong colour hair tie or simply don't have the pride in their uniform to put a BRUSH through their hair while they are putting it up. Girls get away with all and sundry it feels like because our superiors and in fact our entire service are mostly men.



Men couldn't give a rats ass about the girls hair. The boys on the other hand will generally get in trouble for theirs as soon as it touches the very tips of their ears. Something I also happen to agree with. I have a secret desire to walk along a civvie street and simply chop the hair of every shaggy headed youth. There is nothing wrong with a neat short hair style - in fact on may it looks much better. The point here being that the boys have a lot more influence placed on their hair maintenance than girls.



At this stage of my career I'm too low to say much. The only people who aren't above me are my peers and they really wouldn't take to kindly to me trying to tell them something isn't right... certainly not something as 'unimportant' as their hair. Otherwise they would surely have gotten in trouble by now... right... that is not how this should work. However in the not too distant future I will start to have some authority - even if only minor... Lets just say I already know my 'she's such a bitch' trait - all superiors seem to have one.

Seeing Red - A Late Night Argument

'Fictionalise a real argument you've had. Write only in dialogue.'



Before I start I am (as always) going to have to give some background and just generally ramble a little bit. I am struggling a little bit to understand how you fictionalise an argument you’ve had. I suppose changing the people a little bit and the paraphrasing that would naturally occur in memory anyway. This argument to follow is a bit of a conglomerate of what I’ll just say it is a hazard that comes with my job. I have toned down the language a little bit.



‘Urgh... What time is it?’

‘0300. I’m going on watch.’

‘What on EARTH are you doing?’

USS Yorktown Red Light

‘Are you stupid? I just said that. I am going on watch.’

‘I am NOT stupid. I wasn’t asking where you were going. I know where you are going. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’

‘Getting up... that much should be obvious.’

‘What has that to do with the F***ing white light then?’

‘So that I can see what I am doing.’

‘What is wrong with the perfectly functional red light we have used every night for forever.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I don’t care. Its the middle of the damn night.’

‘And I am going to use the white light.’

‘And wake me up. I only got to bed three and a half hours ago.’

‘Its only a little white light... You can hardly see it on your bunk at all.’

‘There is a reason why we only use red light at night. This shit ruins night vision and is just generally impossibly bright.’

‘Stiff shit.’

‘Oh come off it. If I’d done this to you I’d never hear the end of it.’

‘Eh... I’m going on watch now. Bye.’

‘Oi! Don’t you leave this room without turning that blasted light off.’

‘I’d say thanks... but you wouldn’t take it as genuine anyway.’

‘That’s because it wouldn’t be.’

‘Humpf. I’m going to try and get the next 3 hours of sleep. You’re just lucky that not even to spite you would I turn my white light on in the middle of the night. I actually possess manners.’



While writing this I thought. Its funny these arguments are easy enough to write and I reckon that 90%, if not more, people chose to write this argument from their side of the argument. Its the natural thing to do, after all if you are going to revise the argument you are DEFINATELY going to be right aren’t you? I reckon this would have been a much better challenge piece to have attempted to write the dialogue from the OTHER person’s perspective... I’d bet they’d remember it differently. Or at least pick an argument where you knew you were fighting the losing battle. Anybody who wrote one like that – you’ll have to let me know.

Not Exactly a Strong Story Teller

Ah Plinky... out to seperate the men from the boys... I'm probably a boy. However while I could yell chicken and run for the hills, or perhaps uncle would be more appropriate, I'll give it a shot.



"Tell a story with dialogue. Your characters: two cops in Alaska." I am going to beg forgiveness before I begin. I have written a total of 2 short stories in my memory and the latter of which was a year 9 english assignment... yes the LATTER... so this is going to get interesting. I am being a little lax on the exact context of a 'dialogue' but still... here goes...





'Alex! What the hell are you doing?' Georgie stared at her partner in disbelief. Or at least stared in his general direction. Alex was hidden within the hole he was digging and the mound of excavated dirt which suggested the hole was big enough to bury a body... of an elephant.

Police Dog

Alex made an indiscernible noise in response. He kept his head down. His concentration fixed on further widening the hole.



'Its too much to hope that you aren't burying something in this hole. You haven't dug holes for the sake of it in years.' With a grunt amidst his continued digging Alex indicated with a tilt of his head the mangled body mostly obscured by the large dirt mound.



'I tell you mate. ((woops australianism in an alaskan setting - stuff alaska)) You are a verifiable Dexter. I would hate to think what would happen if they caught you doing this stuff. I certainly don't know what I'd do without you.' Georgie forced Alex to look at her hoping to force him to feel remorse at his actions. That, however, was too much to ask for.



As she was about to get into the matter further the sound of their radio crackling to life interupted her train of thought as well as Alex's digging. At the sound he jumped cleanly out of the whole and started to hurry to drag the body into the hole. As Georgie listened to the incident and gave indication she would be on her way. Alex covered over the hole.



'I guess that will have to do Alex. Looks like we have some real bad guys to take care of.' Take his quick response as an ascent she walked over to the car sure he wouldn't be far behind. She opened the back of the car and without hesitation Alex jumped up and settled into his specialised K-9 cage.

Eulogies and Back Pew Gossip

Oh goodie... Funerals. You probably need a warning on your site - can promote suicidal thoughts. I'm not one for the suicide o'course but really you just keep giving me opportunities to mention it. I'm mentioning it today because I reckon suicidal personalities have probably got the best idea about this one. They don't really; their depressed and pessimistic thoughts would prevent more accurate analysis. Not that anybody would be able to right the subjective account of themselves from somebody else's view objectively (I'm not even sure what that says but I thought it sounded good in my head).



Why am I saying all this? Today's plinky topic is 'A fly on the wall at your funeral. What are people saying?'. Its making some assumptions there - people have to rock up at your funeral for them to talk. Also what I think is the most important point of all this is the two sides to the coin. What the person who is writing your eulogy saying about you, and what the people sitting in the rows of the church/hall/cave (cave?) are thinking or saying between themselves.



I'm not saying they are going to be as different as the poles of a magnet (unless you are a bitchy whore who smoked, drank, trafficked, solicited and refused to come to the family christmas party) simply that they are never quite the same story.



Anyway before I get into talking about myself I am going to further explain my mention of the suicidal. This whole concept of what people are saying at my funeral... it really depends on how I died? Dying young and suddenly in a car accident will have far different discussion that death after a long illness or death from old age. Who except the suicidal (or people entertained by morbid thought) would choose to assume their death was from something other than old age.

Airplane Casket

I'm actually not going to lead into anything there. I didn't (for these purposes) die of anything interesting (or mentionable). However I also wont be dying of old age-to much change in a live from 20 to 80 to predict it. I am also going to leave out some of them more 'miss, miss, sad, sad' bits I haven't been to enough funerals to replicate them very effectively. So my actual answer to this question will be three micro-eulogies from the people closest to me with some italic bits thrown in from the unnamed back-pew bandits.



My Mother



My daughter, my only daughter. She was a hard and dedicated worker when she wanted to be spent most of her time holed up in her room - sounds about right but a hopeless procrastinator I had to remind and prod just the same. She was intelligent and academically gifted though there were times when I would have to encourage her through many of the more obvious social situations. She had social skills? She never used them.



She was as different from me as day to night. From the time she was but a baby she shied away from physical contact, whereas I would always have loved for her to give me a hug. She found it hard to express her emotions, making it all the more meaningful when she did. So that hug she gave me one time was supposed to be meaningful? Riight Though I was often the last to know, the last to get the phone call home once she had moved away, she showed me her love in her outgoing, spill all conversations and the sharing of her latest great theory to solve things. She certainly seemed to have some of the world miscellaneous theories about nothing at times



My Brother



My sister and I spent most of our childhood years with the typical love-hate relationship of siblings. I guess it would be said that it was because we loved each other that we would irritate one another simply to see the other react and it was because we knew each other so well that we could, perhaps I should say specifically that I could, push the other's buttons with an efficiency unmatched by others.



Nevertheless when I wasn't pointing the knife at her, or her at me, we were some of the best playmates. The hours we spent playing together, Nintendo then later Play Station and even from time to time some good old card games. You played games with her? No wonder you ended up with knives drawn. She never was a very good loser. We were far apart enough in age and too different in temperament to have much in common at school or in work. Still we talked from time to time about everything from the weather to our relationships. Weather yes... relationships, pretty sure she never had much luck in those



My Best Friend



She was my wingman and I was hers. Its funny when you think about it. Who would imagine a relationship as strong as ours developing over having a primary school best friend in common of all things. So this relationship... you guys were lesbians yes? I suppose there is something to be said for similarities in taste of friends. Which isn't to say we were similar in anything else.



We were as different as my red her to her brown. I was the one to say the outrageous and the extreme and she was the one with the dry humour to cut down my plots oh so that dry sarcasm was supposed to be funny? here I thought she was simply a really dull pessimist. Just the same I seemed to rub off on her. I would start an idea but so often her imagination would extend it beyond anything I could have imagined. She never was very good at sticking on topic in conversation that's for sure. We had plans for our lives like owning a hotel, or owning a hotel on the moon even right through to simply having a house together with a dog.



I am going to miss her. Our daily conversations, the way we bounced ideas off one another. I think I was one of the people who knew her best. I knew all the quirks just as she knew mine. For that I think I am one of the few people who got to see the real her well I certainly only ever saw the standoffish, insecure, wallflower of a human being. I loved her and will miss her greatly.

Chewing Peas and More Useful Advice

Today we are talking about advice. Not just any advice of course but rather GOOD advice. Hell, they are looking for the best advice I've ever received. So as always I'm going to give a little more than you bargained for and cover most of the interesting (though not necessarily useful advice) I've been given over the years.



Firstly who gives the best advice? Its probably going to be a family member, mum, dad or in more timeless areas grandparents. By that I mean most grandparents are able to provide a unique but often outdated advice. The most memorable piece of grandparently advice I've ever had was being told to chew my food 72 times before I swallowed it. Which my grandmother proceeded to make me do with cooked peas... ever chewed peas more than about 5 times? The mush consistency is near unbearable.

"Peas, Please Me" - EXPLORED

That was an example of frustrating advice bordering on useless advice. The difference frustrating advice is good for you but you hate it anyway. The large majority of my mother's advice falls into that category (sorry mum). Things like yes you should study and not stay up talking on msn. Even now she still reminds me that I should be making study plans or similar. Where as useless advice is exactly that 100% useless. Like a person telling you how to make good beer when you don't even drink beer let alone home brew the stuff.



The best advice is generally dished out on a personal level by people who know you well. Terrible advice is always that family friend's daughter who you've met once telling you how to get a boyfriend. Or better yet advising you on why you haven't got a boyfriend. Not that best friends advice is often much better. Its a bit of a mixed bag. They offer the most heartfelt advice which is the good stuff but are also most likely to give advice 'to go for it' - supportive advice - which may actually be the worst possible plan around.



Nevertheless there is final advice - most frequently given at school or at work - whenever you are 'under instruction' really. This is the kind of advice you can probably find in the 'self-help' section of the book store. Filled with clichés and non-clichés (when they have said that a particular cliché is false so often that you hear that as often as you once heard the cliché) it is generally taken with a grain of salt and hilarious to poke fun at (if you can get away with it without getting in trouble for talking).



Nevertheless some of the most useful - read best - advice I've had for was that last kind. You know what? Never, never volunteer. You get volunteered (at least in the military) often enough without you compiling onto it. Sure there is that once in a blue moon time when the people volunteering get the lesser of two evils. Don't let that fool you that is the exception and not the rule. To extend on it, never answer a dumb question asked to you at random by a superior. They do NOT care if you like strawberry ice-cream with chocolate topping it is just another ploy to get you to self-volunteer.



Finally a second piece of workplace advice I love is 'be the gray man'. At the same time never be the 'gray man'. The 'gray man' is the one the staff have their eye on for being an average achiever, passes everything but never excels. To 'be the gray man' you have to be smarter than that. You have to pick your strengths and play to them. Maybe you run fast, you make that the one thing the staff know about you, or if you do alright at maths make sure your maths result is a little better than a bare pass. It may be more effort but you are far less likely to be picked up for never working. Which contrary to belief the 'gray man' often is.



Good advice, bad advice, the most useless advice you have ever heard. Just remember it is generally said good naturedly. Simply smile and nod and remember that more often than not - no matter what people like to say - you often know already what works best for you. Even if you have never done something before if it sounds dumb it probably is dumb and you probably should work to that piece of advice like its the gospel. The fun part about that is it is advice to say don't take just any old advice. ;p

I'll Admit My Nerdy Side

If I could go back and relive one day of my life, which one would it be? There is nothing like a wide open question to put me in a good mood my dear plinky. After all the simple question Why? (why to pick that day) is far more complex that it may seem. There are so many completely different ways to read this question.



A person could choose to take it as a day they want to relive because they want to change something that happened. Though I'm worried if anybody (I'd predict probably someone of the high school 'emo' set) chooses to relive the day they attempted suicide to make it more complete. Sad though it would be I am also a little worried about people wishing to relive the day when somebody else died or was involved in some freak accident – to all those people there was nothing you could do... Stop mentally revisiting it every day.



Another approach (I’m hoping more common) would be to relive GOOD events from your life. The day your team won the championship game, your wedding day (which really could fall into any of the three approaches I’m describing but my romantic side would like to put into this one) or some other day you accomplished something amazing. Good things are going to be a first or a last, the day you met somebody or the day you finally qualified at your job. The intermediate days are just never as good.



My final ‘approach’ is the time travelling conscious. This one is almost implicitly required in the BAD event approach but for good times it may be a useful addition. Nobody wants to relive the bad things and not have the knowledge to fix them. For good times, or even simply interesting times, taking your current day ‘self’ with you makes it so much more interesting. Or maybe (because I am sure somebody answered this with the day they were born) they simply want an interesting memory of a life event. Or sometime when knowing what you know now would make it a little interesting. Anyway now that I’ve analysed the topic to death maybe I’ll pick something shall I?

Beaker bug, it's science!

There are a lot of good days in my life (I certainly have no desire to relive any bad times) but to pick an interesting one to relive. I have been very bored during my uni holidays so I think I want to relive one of the more interesting holiday activities I’ve ever done. The Science Experience I participated in at one of the Brisbane unis. I have to say I recommend that kind of thing to any slightly nerdy person who wants some fun on their holiday. Unfortunately for you and me both it is a high school only thing so except in this context it’s now a past opportunity for me... Glad I did it while I could then.



It was three days, so I’m going to have to pick a single day, I’ll get to that. First some of the reasons why I would pick this event in general. It was a hell of a lot of fun (but I’m sure that is a given) but more importantly it was a number of firsts for me (being allowed to catch the train to the city alone, being treated in general as an adult – or at least an intelligent being, seeing a university campus, attending my first lecture (yep they were just as bad then as now)). It was one of those unique experiences I had in high school that I DIDN’T have to share with the other high achieving student of my school (ever high achiever whether it is academics or athletics or the arts has the one person who is out in front with them and they have the –I call it healthy – competition).



So I can’t have the whole three days again. That’s ok... I will never forgive them for sending us to the natural sciences facility while the others did – well this many years on I can’t remember what they did but it was something I had really wanted to do. Unlike a lot of those kind of camp activities there was no choice about which to attend nor did everybody attend all of them. Groups A-D simply went to wherever it was and lucky groups E-F got to met some geologist and talk about rocks and erosion. Here is where I point out that I didn’t even do biology in senior let alone geology or geography, ick.



The day I wouldn’t mind re-doing since that day is clearly out. Well, I’d say the day we went to the anatomy department of UQ. Yes I found looking at dead bodies very fascinating (this coming from a girl who at that point in my life still had trouble sleeping after some CSI episodes). I have this awful feeling that is what we did after the rock people though so I’ll pass it.



Instead the day that we played the invention game – if you managed to read some of my previous posts and come back for more drivel (did you know that drivelled is a word? I didn’t. thanks spell check) you may have heard me mention this game. We made a very incredible surf board which could be created on a desert island with nothing more than paper, a couple of straws, string and all the sand in the world. Then created the best pun infomercial (in my unbiased opinion) for said surfboard ever seen, anywhere.



The whole day was just a lot of fun. I think that was the last day of the camp (though I may be wrong). Which unfortunately makes it the short day (but I wouldn’t take natural sciences day even for a full day event). Nevertheless the closing ceremony (by short day it still didn’t end until about 4.30) was entertaining to – science based ‘magic’ tricks and some random interesting banana about how science as a career could be fun.



The random fact was simply that bananas cannot be juiced (and pear juice is most commonly substituted in ‘banana’ flavoured juices) but they had been doing stuff to make bananas (looking similar to lady fingers) which are able to be juiced. Other bananas have been manipulated to increase their nutritional value with the aim being to make one banana cover the full range of vitamins and minerals for use in countries where food availability isn’t good. Just to finish off I would just want to do the day again; not take my memories back with me (that would spoil all the jokes).

Never Tell My Mother

So my darling plinky – you have chosen to be irritating again. If my concentration was better than that of a firefly perhaps I would cut you away completely (and for those of you unaware of the ‘cut away’ slang look it up, one of the most useful pieces of military slang which I would like to bring to the civilian world) but alas I am still here. Why are you irritating? Well you finally managed to use an ‘an’ instead of a ‘-est’ word word. It is simply that you are making me use the third person perspective for a second time in two days. So long as you don’t make it a hat trick I’ll forgive you tomorrow.



Anyway let’s get on topic shall we? Tell an awkward third person... wait that isn’t it... Tell a story about an awkward school experience. Fun topic... Anybody who can’t write a novel of awkward school moments must either have a bad memory or a very good imagination. So anyway I guess I should pick a good one.



As always to find a good one I had to pit stop through a large number of memories before I find a good one that I can replay which is entertaining in something a bit longer than a Facebook status (I refuse to use Twitter even in my analogies). Anyway I figure I’ll avoid the moment I told my best friend of 4 years(well me and my other best friend called him that we were lucky we he acknowledged us as friends – whole story in that one) I liked him. Or the time in seventh grade when I had a discussion on the bus with an eighth grade girl about which was more offensive the finger or the toe (which she explained was physically manipulating your toes so that only the middle toe is standing) – the answer she was looking for (everybody who asks those questions has an answer they have already deemed the ‘right one) was the toe.



So I can think of an abundance of awkward moments throughout my schooling. This one I’m going to write about however is one of those times where the snowball rolling downhill grows out of control to comical dimensions.

School bus

It is a sixth grade lunch time. Nothing particularly unusual about this one, nothing to make it memorable. The class, for in this cafeteria students come as a class, sit as a class and leave as a class, arrived to the cafeteria. Kids divided into the two lines based on meal preference―the normal meal, veg & milk just inside the door/’fastfood’ option to the far side. The girls in question had chosen the normal line.



Well, all bar one, the other girl, who in this story will be called Olive, deemed herself too good for the normal food line. She deemed herself too good for a lot of things, including the other girls―particularly the other girls. Or at least one other girl, Peach, perhaps an easy target, the youngest in the year, a little heavy, who has (being Australian not American) grown up completely oblivious to the racism and all its complications.



Peaches had been a little bit out of it on this particular day, perhaps this particular week. The exact reason for this has been washed away with history, this event took place many, many years ago. Turning to her friend, Rose, Peach said, her eyes following Olive across the cafeteria. ‘I HATE her. I want to kill her.’ Rose didn’t make a comment simply turning to get her meal.



At the table a very seconds later with the rest of the members of her class Peach was confronted by another of her not favourite people, Lily. Unfortunately Peach, having conceded completely to her bad mood gave Lily a bit of an earful also. Not death threats, though she did reiterate the one towards Olive, simply frustrated comments.



Then walking into the classroom one of the boys, a friend of Lily’s, here we’ll call him Dennis, spoke to Peaches. ‘I know what you said about her Peach. I can’t believe you could say something like that.’ Peaches starred at him shocked, she felt threatened by his tone of voice, and his words played on her already active conscious. ‘You’re... gay’ She was shocked at herself for saying that. Never had she used the word gay that way, until that moment the only references in her life to gay had been of the good-time, gay-time variety.



That was the part of this story that got to the teacher. How does one back-pedal out of a situation like that? Peach certainly didn’t manage it. The whole story came out. Funnily all of the gay stuff got forgotten about pretty quickly. It certainly wasn’t the bit that had her fronting the school police officer. How many schools have a resident police officer in the sixth grade hall, certainly not in Aussie schools? Ahhh well... The death threats towards Olive, said with all the seriousness of a relatively well adjusted 11 year old girl unexposed to anything more violent than a Disney movie.



After a long line of ‘yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir’ while the Bye Baby Bunting police officer explained how serious threats were to Peach they got to decision time. ‘Miss Peach, this is a VERY serious matter. For the threats you have made toward Miss Olive you are going to have to go to children’s court. And tell your mother.’ He said this like the separate and far more significant point which to a 11 year old girl... is about right. ‘Or we will come to a compromise. I’m going to hand you over to the guidance councillor and she will oversee you apologising to Olive and mediating a solution to your relationship issues. This will not involve court and we won’t have to call you mother.’



Dumb question, thought Peach, anything for my mum to never know my lowest moments. ‘I’ll take mediation’ The guidance councillor came and took her to the office, calling for Olive to join them. Both girls were forced to apologise to one another. Ten minutes later Olive was returned to class leaving Peach alone with the councillor to talk about the problems she was having at the time. Apparently significant enough to save dear Peach from the during class detention room instead simply being returned to the classroom to read for the rest of the lesson.





Yep... lets just say that is the first and LAST time the word of the ‘law’ has ever been directed at me. It was also the most awkward supervised apology I have ever been party to. And one of the biggest things that ever happened to me at school that I never, NEVER told my mother.

A Very Scary Moment

The scariest moment of my life. I have worked out what it is I don't like about most of the plinky topics. They use '-est' words and 'favourite' far too often for me. I can write a page or two on any number of answers that fit the bill - for this topic that would be scary moments. Just the same I can't think of any defining moment. One time which I would single out - which means that in answering this question I (no matter how I answer) feel like I gave an incorrect answer.



So I have decided, for the sake of my sanity, to simply pick one moment of my life where I was scared. Well a little bit more than just scared - I am not about to speak of times when my uncle came up behind my computer chair and I jumped sky high. Or even the more extreme times when after hours of playing Cluedo on my computer some of the guys I lived with decided it was a good time to play practical jokes. I with also try to find a more interest moment of gut-wrenching fear than simply confronting the first exam paper I ever failed.



Anyway - today you get to avoid listening to me harp on - thanks to darling plinky I am required to describe the scariest moment of my life from a third person perspective. Mine you - I may simply be my normal obtuse self and choose to read that as third PARTY perspective. Its cause to be my usual chatty self pretending to be somebody else.

Carnegie Shield - Royal Dornoch Golf Club, August 2007

It had been a long night already when that shaken young mid fronted to tell me she had just crashed the duty golf buggy. I have to tell you I wasn't overly surprised. She drove me around the last time she was on duty and let me tell you - despite her state issued license which allows her on the road I have to say the four months confided to base for initial training I doubted if she was safe on the road.



I have to say I didn't know quite what to do with the girl. Close to hysterical with laughter about something that would surely lead to a charge (though't I am not sure of what). Apparently she had run off the road, hit a tree and fallen completely out of the vehicle. I have to tell you how the HELL somebody does that at 25k an hour I've no idea.



I concede that it was a pretty windy evening - dark, cloudy - but not raining. A base this small the roads aren't overly well lit. With a 40 speed limit though you'd certainly expect a car's head lights to be sufficient - even if you have to dodge a kangaroo or ten. But then as I said this girl didn't seem to be the most efficient driver on offer.



Apparently slow speed can be almost as dangerous as high speeds. Knowing the dear old golf buggy had been speed limited causes most of the trainee's to try the reckless and ridiculous to make up for what it's lacking. Apparently in this case the driver had thought she was going slow enough to attempt to fix the torn plastic door while driving. It doesn't surprise me is that that girl would think the long downhill CURVE would be a good time to do such things.



What does surprise me. What surprised everybody. Is that the cart managed to get up and over the gutter. To be honest I think that is the cause of the only damage on the golf buggy - except perhaps to the girl's nerves. However after mounting the curve she had gone about 2 meters into a tree. Had it not been for the tree she would have gone over the edge of the 4 metre sheer drop onto the golf course.



I have to say the driver despite her shock got off pretty easy from the whole thing. I checked with her - nothing wrong with her but a very bruises and a whole lot of excess adrenaline. Apparently after she fell out of the vehicle - not wearing a seat belt (not that I blame her I didn't even know the old thing had one) she almost rolled down the slope. Not that I think it was the best plan for a girl still shaking when she got to the duty room but she managed to drive the buggy (front axil well bent to boot) all the way home. No more damage to come of it than the government's $5000 (thankfully not passed onto the girl).



Finally - just me again - to say my driving has got a lot better since then. Not scary at all from this perspective...

The Birds and The Bees

To clarify from the title (yes it was a semi-intentional suck-you-in) I am not in the least bit confused about sex. Just how the hell a man-woman relationship comes to exist and then stays afloat...



Today I think, for the sake of honesty, I will make a quick pit stop (hopefully my answer will extend beyond it) through one of the most cliche responses to this question. Afterall women confuse men and men (through women often seem less inclined to admit it - preferring instead to just blame the man's stupidity) confuse women. However I am going to extend this to... men AND WOMEN confuse the hell out of me. What part of life confuses me the most? Relationships.



AH! I know I'm sure I've stumbled into yet another cliche with that one. Actually... I may not have. Considering how many people I know with boyfriends/girlfriends - I generally don't count husbands/wifes because they interact with one another a little bit differently - it is possible that I am the only person on the planet who didn't get the 'How to Date' starters kit.

Date night

I am going to come right out and admit to not being the most social bunny going. Personally a few hours sitting on my bed watching a movie or reading a book (I live a single room so everything is done while sitting on my bed or at my desk) is preferable to a night out on the town. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate company or even mind taking my movie watching to town every once in a while.



Anyhow, so the dating thing. I am confused by a very large number of aspects of the whole social construct. Some relating to how I manage to have a guy I like like me - and I seem to have a penchant for the silent types. To use words out of the mouth of one of the guys I've liked, it was a while ago so it might be accidentally paraphrased 'I don't really like anything, I don't relax, I don't stress out, I don't really feel much of anything.' Now doesn't he just sound like a bundle of fun?



Others include why it is that morons have boyfriends. Yes, clearly it is because BOTH sides of the relationship have very low expectations of what they were looking for. Even still. Some of the most frustrating women I have ever met seem to acquire boyfriends with such ease. I really need to extend moron to include absolute bitches - you know the ones that have more male friends than girlfriends because they have a use and abuse personality. I assume being easy helps them but still.



I could go further with that one but it basically leads into my next confused issue. The serial dater. This is perhaps more understandable outside my living environment - though still not a lot. The girl that will date one guy for three months then dump him for his next door neighbour. I clearly don't understand enough about these matters to understand how a person could 'date' multiple people in our workplace. You know the name, rank, service, degree stream and personality of just about everybody. How can you date every single one of your guy friends - certain s words do come to mind, generally prefixed by the word dirty.



I'll sway away from mentally recounting all the sluts (opps did I just use that word) i know and move onto a different aspect. How does one start dating. This is clearly an area I am not alone in being unsure about - afterall there are endless dating sites in existence not to mention ploys like blind dates and speed dating. Nevertheless an answer is yet to come to me. Accepting an offer sounds like the best bet - hell thats one I've done before - but the trouble is in getting the offer.



My prior experience in any of this. I am going to admit to going on a single very awkward almost date not long before I started year 12 - we simply became good long distance msn buddies after that one. Since then I have had a few male friends, and a few male friends I had horrendous crushes on (I hate the word but when you are pathetically liking people who show very little interest [in that way] in you what other word is there) and one very bad response to (after liking him for 3 years) admitting to one of my closest friends I liked him - we never really spoke again.



Ok now I've bitched, moaned and groaned with all the finesse of a hormone induced high school girl. Which I am not nor have been for many years just to remind anybody who read this thinking 'ewww desperate school girl'. I am not a school girl nor particularly desperate. Merely tired of people ^ see above mention of s word ^ saying stupid things like 'You are so lucky to be independent and self-assured without a man.' I just like to think that yes I really am more attractive to somebody out there than a sex-addicted, money-wasting, sickeningly girly-girl with the personality of a toad.

I'm Moving On

My Dearest Plinky,



You seem to have got me good today. 'Describe something I lost and I want back.' I can think of a few petty things I wouldn't mind having back - my old purple phone after I left it at a motel, my comfy shoes that died of old age and hell even just my old copy of the first ever Australian Mills and Boon Duet I had a couple years back. But I can't think of anything significant, something life changing to talk about for this topic.

Friends

It isn't to say I haven't lost things. Haven't outgrown, matured past or outlived things. Pets have died, grandparents have died, toys have fallen apart, friends have grown apart - particularly post school. But even the bigger of those things like family and friends I may miss but I don't want the back.



So that is going to sound strange to a lot of people. Isn't missing something to want them back... yes and no. Sure you can say it would be nice to have them back, but life moves on. The things you'd have to do to go back there generally (to me) make it not worth it.



So only three paragraphs in I've almost worked out what it is I'm talking about. My school friends. Its funny how you don't believe you will lose them after school. I don't have the same close group of friends I had at school any more. Sad and often after a weekend of doing uni work I am in my room going stir crazy and I miss them. I'd kill for a msn conversation like I had back in school. Hell, right now, sitting in my family home (I'm on holidays), I'd kill to have friends abound to catch up with.



So why don't I want them back? That wouldn't solve any problems. Friends are nice its true but to have them as the friends I had at school I'd need to still be here in town, still live at home, still have things in common with them. I like my life as it is now too much to want that. I don't want what I had in the past, I want new and different experiences now instead.



Yours in Boredom,

Peaches

Ten Years Might As Well Be Eternity

Oh dear Mr. Plinky... I may have to go back to thinking up my own blog ideas at this rate... And that never goes too well - who wants to listen to me ramble about my love of the creeks (and their general lack of water) while on car trips. FINE I'll answer your question. "10 Years From Now, What Do I Hope My Life Will Be Like?"



Straight of the bat I'll admit to you my intense hatred for contemplating the future. Hell the six months goal sheets I have to do for work are enough to get my knickers in a knot. All that self-improvement bullshit about being directed and committed because I have a goal to reach. Goals = stress = me stressing out = no progress on goal = more stress = less progress... and so the vicious cycle continues - until I probably have a mental breakdown or something. All in all plans about the future = goals = stress even when nobody is going to give me a pass fail grade for it.



Moving right along. 10 years is a very, VERY long time. Though I try to avoid mentioning my age most of the time I am going to have to say that that is more than half (just) my life. Thinking back to ten years ago. I was in grade 5 at school. That was before I lived in the US. Before I went to high school. Before I moved out of home. So many life changing decisions happen in ten years.



And not to play devil's advocate - I don't play the role that well but all the people answering this question with I want to be a millionaire. Lets just be a little more realistic shall we? Unless you want to give me 400 words on how or why you'll be a millionaire - then I might (emphasizing the might) listen. Where do I want to be in ten years?



Well we are talking about what do I want to have achieved before I'm thirty. I'd like to not be doing the job I'm doing at the moment... Stuck here till I'm 27 but that isn't so bad... I'm just not sure it is where I want to spend my entire life. And leading into my next aspiration I'm not sure its where I'd like to be when I have a family.



To reference my saying millionaire was unrealistic. I struggle with visualising wanting to be married by 30 as anything more than a pipe-dream. I don't even have a boyfriend. I suppose it is not that different from saying I want to be a millionaire... After all anything could happen - I just don't happen to lust after something as petty as cash (no I am not above making lame puns).



So presuming I do find that lucky (more likely unlucky) somebody I wouldn't mind a child by that point in my life. Think in the 3 year gap between leaving my job at 27 and the magic 10 year from now border. And a dog. It is amazing how much you miss pets after having them growing up. Some days what I want most in the world is a warm, furry body to cuddle and seeing as my taste in men does NOT run to hairy I am thinking a nice lapdog would suit me well....



Now I am suffering from the - my responses sound like every other normal human being - dilemma. As we all know I dislike falling into the category of lame, predictable and unoriginal but to be perfectly honest I don't have any great life aspirations. A man who loves God and loves me, frequent contact with my best friend (I would love to be living in the same town for once), a job I can bear... I am at heart a ridiculously mundane human being...



Mostly 10 years from now I'd just be content with still being alive. With nobody around me dying of a terrible disease or being killed in car accidents, bike accidents, ski accidents or freak toe-stubbing or door closing accidents.



I've got no idea what the future holds. I leave that sort of hard core planning up to God. I hear he has some pretty extreme spread sheeting programs on his computer so I'll leave the mundane planning aspects of my life up to him. Hears to whatever the future holds!!

Unlimited Resources... What Else Would I Need?

Ahhh... The resources we live to find them, we live to develop them, we live to discover new ones and more than anything we live to use them up faster than we can do any of the other things combined. Half the fun of life is coming up with ways to do things with less resources - or so the greenies keep telling me.



Today I am answering the Plinky question 'If you had unlimited resources what would I create?' and in my usual way I am not going to tackle the question head-on with all the elegance of a mac-truck but rather lure it into a false sense of security and take its hidden treasure when it least expects it and share it with all of you kind people. For those of you unable to see the Robin Hood analogy there... I can't help you I've already wasted far too much of everybody else's time.



Back on topic now. What would I build with endless resources? I'm going to need somebody to define resources for me. By some definitions that would simply be natural resources... and to be perfectly honest apart from the quote unquote 'World Peace' answer favoured at beauty pageants I'm not sure sure what I would want to do with MORE oil. Well LOWER prices perhaps... but I don't think UNcreating a monopoly of the oil industry is really an answer I want to pitch here today. The un makes it far too negative.



Another option for a definition of resources is to go hard core on the elemental side of things. In other words... you can have all the atoms in the world you want... You can even have 100 kgs of unununium (atomic number 111 apparently it has a less cool name but why would I remember it, I'm not a chemist) if your heart so desires. Yep... I don't know what I'd do with any and every element at my disposal... Make some squeaky voices for my shadow puppets with some helium perhaps? Attempt the ol' lead balloon trick? And then to really finish off the party with some sodium in the water jug explosions...



Another alternative for unlimited resources is to have all of the worlds INTELLECTUAL resources. Basically that would make you a super genius. As far as creating things go this is probably the best on to have. Though I reckon with even the worlds vast knowledge you wouldn't be able to solve any of the fun ones - like, sorry to pageant cliche haters for bringing it back up, world piece or energy creation. But it would be pretty cool to see how many scientists could have invented something by now if they knew that this guy over here had the missing piece of information.. I'm sure there is something out there like that... That would be a fun bit of creating though I'm not sure what exactly it would be.



Finally I'm going to go with the obvious answer to the question... yeah I had to get around to it anyway. I'm figuring for this unlimited resources would most reasonably translate into anything money can buy. To be perfectly honest at that point I probably wouldn't be creating much of anything... Except some awesomely long facebook statuses, blog posts, group text messages (and any other medium I could think of) about how BORED I am... Probably a good time to invent stuff you say...



Unfortunately I'm a big believer in the more you have the less you can see. I mean I'm not situating myself as Bill Gates (though I point out he too had his great spark BEFORE he had everything) so I don't have a any natural genius to back me up. So once I had everything I wouldn't be able to think past it all to something new or different. I would be too distracted buying that thing that guy over there has because I don't have one yet... I mean when you can buy jet packs and personal water hover devices (ah the things my roommates look at while procrastinating) you are too busy putting yourself in hospital for any inventing of things...



The reason most things get created is the lack of it and its usefulness (and once you need to USE something for something isn't it therefore a resource which means I get to have it in this alternate universe?). We create more fuel efficient cars and houses etc because we need to save natural resources (woot buzz words). We create remote controls and mobile phones because we have the inbuilt need to be lazy - and lazy people don't build new things... What is left in the laziness avenue? A machine that goes to sleep for you? There are drugs for that.



People are at their most inventive when they have no resources... Probably why this question works now I think about it... Imagination makes for fantastic solutions while reality just makes a very lazy SOB. I can still remember a time on a summer science camp where we (on a desert island) had to build something with a very straws, a sheet of paper - and unlimited sand. The other group did the practical thing... Our group basically dispensed with reality from the get go and made a very very epic surf board... Long story short - I've never been a designed and we lost design phase epically... We did however win advertising... This ability for me to spin shit isn't new... apparently I've had it for years.



And just as a bonus prize for listening to my rant (for this one has been a particularly good rant [I'm avoiding my ironing something chronic]). If I had unlimited resources - as it I was all knowing, all owning, and had whatever I needed at my fingertips - I would create a camera which was basically just a contact lens. Still capture (I wouldn't want continuous video which would make getting my perfect shot impossible). It would record the world I see exactly the way I see it... I hate camera flash.

My Tri-Colour Creation

Today I'm supposed to be drawing a picture. Apparently whoever is lending their crayons is being pretty stingy because I only get 3. That's ok though because I'm not a particularly good drawer at any rate and more crayons would just emphasise that fact... Or so I'm telling myself.

At any rate The point of this is to outline my crayon colours... Which is by far the easiest part of this... I mean what would I draw with my three crayons? Probably a lot of geometric shapes... Triangles, love hearts and smileys are about my limit in artistic flair... Unless you want a kite... lots of geometric shapes in a kite.

Purple
Ok... Seriously who didn't pick their favourite colour first? I love purple... Preferably a really royal purple colour... The deep rich one... I'm not a mauve person nor does lilac strike my fancy. Deep rich purple all the way.

Lime Green
Have you ever seen how good lime green looks with purple? They set each other off perfectly. If you need proof you should really check out my sheets... I have one set of green sheets with a purple doona cover and one set of purple sheets with a green doona cover... My life is complete... sort of. Oh and if my drawing is going to be lame at least it is going to be colourful

Black
Yeah I know... all the talk of colours and now I pick black? This is my sensible side coming out. I am a far neater colourer than I am a drawer... so to make the most of this skill *cough* I pick place to draw the outlines with. This is the crayon I think that defines me the most. I am a lover of bright, colourful and spontaneous but I love a little order. Like I mentioned before I am a geometric drawer.

Thank-You is a Reflex

I think I'm going to start by saying I'm a little disappointed by anybody that is finding coming up with a time they thanked somebody... Didn't your mother teach you better than that? Nevertheless turning it into an interesting story may be a little bit of an issue.



I'm assuming the correct answer to 'When was the last time you thanked somebody?' has to be the last time you said 'Thank You'. Assuming you aren't in the tendency of thanking objects (which I am but thats another story). Anywho, the last time I thanked somebody was actually pretty random.



I have the tendency to thank people when 'Thank-you' probably wasn't the right thing to say. I'll say it when the cashier asks for my money... Which means I feel awkward when I feel the need to say it again when they give me my change. But my friend paid for dinner tonight so that particular situation is not the most recent 'thank-you' situation.



The last time I thanked a person was in the elevator (I am on holidays - thankfully I don't have to use an elevator in my own home) and there was a girl with a suitcase in front of the doors. It was one of those awkward get in from one direction out from the other elevators. People are never expecting that and so she thought she was being well planned (she knew we were getting out at 4th floor and she was on 6th).



And anyway despite the fact that she didn't really move out of my way I thanked for it. I thanked her for being in my way? Pretty much. Not sarcastically or anything, just a well mannered reflex. After all those years of my mum doing the standard parent reminder 'Say Please... Did you say thank you?' I would really make her proud now.