Friday, January 13, 2012

Martyr mindreader

Driving home today, I had another epiphany.

I know right. Aren't you all lucky.

But before the e-word, lets give you some background.

I am, sometimes, what you might call, an overly conscientious citizen. A martyr, if you will.

I - like many females - derive some sort of sick pleasure in attempting to be all things to all people at all times. Despite my best attempts at laziness, my itty bitty candle often burns at both ends. Indeed, as I sit at the computer to write this (one-handed, whilst consuming ice-lollies), I am texting a friend about what time I'll pick them up tonight, fretting that they'll be inconvenienced by me, making a mental shopping list for the time I'll be inconveniencing my friend, watching an episode of Castle (with just my ears), and worrying about seeing someone tonight who is mad at me (wondering why they are mad at me).

I, as an eight year old at a sleepover, not wanting to wake my older cousins who were sharing the bed with me, tossed and turned in super slow motion. I'm not joking. Slo-mo. The whole time. The next morning they told me it was so incredibly annoying that they almost throttled me.

And when I first began driving, I was almost in an accident.

I was five minutes from home (where the most accidents occur, I once read), and trying to cross a main road. By nature, I'm over-cautious when I make these kinds of turns, so I'd been waiting for a while for the traffic to clear. Waiting, waiting.

I began to get nervous that the person in the car behind me was becoming impatient. And the person behind him. And the person behind her. Oh God, I thought. They're all sitting in their cars muttering about stupid P-platers. I felt it was my duty to protect the sterling reputation of P-platers, and decided to show off my responsible driving skills as soon as I could.

It looked like there was a break in traffic, so, against my better judgement, I pulled out behind a car when I wasn't one hundred per cent sure there wasn't a second car in the next lane obscured from my vision by the first.

There was.

And he almost hit me.

And if I'd felt a hundred per cent sure there was no second car and totally gunned it, he probably would have.

I need to say here, that I feel very lucky to have made it out of that stupid situation without a scratch on me. If there is someone looking out for me, I thank them for all their hard work. (And ask them why they haven't yet put me in the path of Daniel Radcliffe).

But anyway, on with the epiphany.


God speed, bunnies. God speed.

Today I was driving home from work. Same road. Five minutes from home. I was thinking about someone I know (and engage in a pretty hardcore intense hate/love relationship with), and what they'd think if I did decide to go back to studying (a stunning blend of 'I-knew-you'd-fail' and a not-so-subtle hint of condescension). While thinking this, I also got nervous that the dude in the car behind me was mad at me for braking, and moved my foot to the accelerator - and I stopped myself.

(This is the epiphany part).
Hang on, I said. Just hang on a second here girly.

You need to stop caring what other people think.

Because if you're focussed on what everyone else is thinking, and doing, and saying, you cannot give yourself the attention that you need. You might even fail.
You can't drive straight if you're not looking at the road.
And you can't decide what the right thing to do is by gaining acceptance from others. 

 
(I know, right)

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Do you want to be popular?

For the past few months I've had a little niggling thought. Just a little tiny question that keeps flinging around my head like a demented (albeit, sort of peaceful) frisbee. I've been watching The Kardashians and wondering why we - modern society - are so totally grossly guilty-pleasurely obsessed with celebrity.



Why, do I sometimes prance around the house wearing a (fake) solitaire ring on my fourth finger, making grotesque poses in the mirror, pretending that the paps have (well shit) surrounded me and are currently frothing at the mouth at the prospect of being the first to share my fabulous taste in carbon allotropes (that is totally wrong and I have now offended all the scientists/jewellers who read my blog. Apologies to the masses), with the world?

So, why? Why do I do this?
Don't worry. Don't get up. I've got it. That's why I've stayed back at work to nut this epiphany out.
(Ya welcome).

Well. It is a hell of a lot of fun ladies. Gents! By all means, give it a whirl too. I'm all about equal rights. 

On a more serious note, I think we all just want to be popular.

Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, blogging - it's all about gaining fans, friends and followers. That unique, euphoric, soaring plethora of emotion that can only be fully experienced in a public place whilst checking your social media notifications and fighting the urge to jump up and down yelling 'THEY WANT TO BE MY FRIEND! SUCK IT, EVERYONE ELSE!'. We don't care who they are. Sometimes, we don't even care what they think.

All that we care about, is that Someone out there thinks that we are special. That we are smart and terrific and witty. And that they will somehow, magically, alert many more Someones to your genius, until the Chief of all Someones - which everyone knows is Elijah Wood - discovers your brillance, flies that God-awful 20 hour flight from the US to Australia, to fling open your front door and make you his bride.

Fin. 

Monday, January 9, 2012

Master Whinger

Been a terrible Blog Mama. Yes yes. Left you all neglected and hungry. Terribly sorry.

...It will happen again.

Why, yes I did have a fabulous summer adventure in various international paradises. Thank you for asking! Incredibly lucky. Feeling totally spoilt, mostly due to people's reactions to my complaining about heading back to work. Well. I don't care what any of you say - I will complain as much as I wish. If whinging were a sport, I'd ... be bloody good. (I wouldn't win anything, as I'd be too lazy to enter. Thus, would sit on couch complaining about said laziness).

So, apart from making everyone hate me and my slutty passport, I've found myself a nice backup career - giving workaholics crash courses in being a lazy sod. It's like I was born to do it. (Mum would absolutely cack herself if she read this).


Wish you I were here

(Yes this is a very real life photo of the gorgeous Hanauma Bay, where I later that day, snorkelled was set upon by the most thuggish coral).

Anyway - currently back at work. Colossal struggle to get back into work mode (which I am so very rarely in, and forever fighting to get back into... assuming I've ever been in it).


So a few snippets on life updates:
- Have declared 2012 year of Change and Dream-Following. Watch. This. Space.
- Have read Bridget Jones' Diary. Am now speaking fluent Diary.
- Want to travel at all times.
- Dislike all things about being home.
- Do enjoy unlimited supply of undies though.


Hoping you had a very Merry Christmas and (will have) a Happy New Year.

For now, I'm off to continue my storm of complaining and being generally horrible.


Business as usual.



:)