In writing my story, I’ve been very obsessed over the correct use of words of late, (of course, I AM a writer): using the correct tense, grammar… I do want it to be perfect when I send it to publishers. And one of my recent obsessions was over the use of the terms continual and continuous.
Continual suggests something ongoing with interruptions over a long period of time, whereas continuous means a long duration without interruption.
Now that I’ve given you my prologue, back to my main point. I don’t know if I’ve written about this before in my 140 + posts; as you can imagine it’s hard to keep track when you get to that number.
I don’t even know exactly how many posts I’ve done – just guessing from my work email over here (:))
But about a half hour ago I finished watching a TV movie, called The Princess and the Marine. And I was very pleasantly surprised to find Mark Paul Gosselaar, and his name, come up first in the opening credits.
My fascination and love for Zack (sigh) began in a galaxy, far, far away… hold on wrong story. My fascination with Zack began, let’s count… shit about 20 years ago. Does that show my age? No, I believe it was 18 years ago.
Running home from school and eating in front of the TV was an everyday ritual for me, and when I discovered a new after-school show at 4pm, called Saved by the Bell, I was well and truly SOLD. I loved it. I loved the characters, the storylines. I loved the friendships, the sometimes serious, yet eventually light-hearted way they solved their problems. I thought Jessie was funny. I thought it’d be great to have a wardrobe like Lisa’s. I thought A.C Slater was cute. I thought Screech was goofy and weird. I wanted to BE Kelly Kapowski – so gorgeous, friendly and loved by everyone. And I wanted to be with Zack Morris.
Sorry, again. I wanted to BE with Zack Morris.
Sigh. I’m getting all giddy just thinking about it.
And so started my fascination. It wasn’t just a cute, dote-on-him crush thing: it was something FAR more than that.
Up until that point I had liked a couple of guys at school (yes I started young) – not that anything actually happened. But I did notice the opposite sex IN THAT WAY, when I was the ripe young age of 5. So by about 10, when I started to obsess over SBTB (that’s how us old-school 80s kids speak, you know?) I wasn’t new to the whole crush thing. Even so, Zack Morris became, from that moment on, my staple, my benchmark, say it my dream, of THE perfect guy.
I swear. It wasn’t a really conscious thing, but I found myself being drawn to those kinds of characters in my life, for years to come. And I still am. Whether they were in the media (like Pacey from Dawson’s, I LOVE Pacey from Dawson’s) or guys from school, and eventually, ahem, like my HUSBAND (!) Zack Morris’ character made a huge impact on what I wanted in a mate.
Maybe it was the cheeky humour. The outrageous confidence. The prankster qualities that always got him into trouble. His boyish good looks (well that definitely helped, thank you Mark ). Maybe it was how he was a ladies man – we all know as women that we love a challenge, we want to tame that wild boy. Or maybe it was his undying loyalty to his one and only first love, Kelly.
***SPOILER ALERT!***
If you haven’t seen the very end of SBTB, and by end I mean AFTER they go off to Uni, you would be pleased to know that Zack and Kelly did FINALLY get married in a special TV movie. YAY! :-D
All is good in the world.
***SPOILER ALERT OVER – COMMENCE READING***
Over the years, as SBTB dropped off the screens, I fell into infatuation with other boys, both on-screen and in real life. I guess I kind of forgot about Zack as other guys just took centre stage.
For example, two men I have repeatedly (other than my hubbie) spoken about here is David Boreanaz, and then more recently Bryan Greenberg. Well they are just hot aren’t they. You can’t deny it. David is older now, yes, which means Bryan has taken centre stage in the number 1 spot, clearly going by the looks category. And over the years that I’ve seen MPG in TV movies and other series, I’ve thought to myself “eh, you looked better.”
Beat me up, I know. I’m being a bit cruel. But he was just so cute and adorable. And then he turned into a man. And sometimes the man, doesn’t live up to the boy. I still appreciated him, and I completely recognised that he was just older. Hey, we’re all gonna get older, so will I, and although I hope like hell I’m hot at 40, I’m sure I still won’t look the way I did when I was 16.
BUT!
But. The TV movie I just saw, the princess marine one? (Well he’s not a princess marine but you know what I mean)
I started off like “right, yep, Mark is pretty good looking here, yep.”
The movie was shot in 2001, so a while ago. Still, he looked good.
And then I let myself start watching it and get sucked in.
I swear, Mark was BORN for these kinds of roles. Maybe it’s because he is really like that. And if he is there is a serious problem here… it means he’s even more perfect than I previously thought. He’s a marine in the movie, on duty in Bahrain, a Muslim country, when he falls in love with a Muslim girl there, and she for him. But she’s not just a girl, you see, she’s a princess.
And there’s the catch:)
It was a great movie. Watching Mark (Jason Johnson) jump hurdles and get into all kinds of illegal behaviour just so he and his future bride could escape to the U.S (yes bride, he proposed in a shopping centre – it was actually very sweet and romantic!) made me tingle in nice ways all over. That devoted, loyal, loving “I’ll do anything for you” look in his eyes was there, and I found myself going back to that 10 year old girl I used to know… and I melted. And as I watched, he grew more, and more, and MORE attractive.
Sigh.
This movie was actually based on a true story. This story did happen in real life – unfortunately, the real life princess and the marine ended up divorcing in 2004, I think. (I almost wish I didn’t find that on IMDB – it’s slightly ruining my Mark-story images right now).
But I just couldn’t help thinking. I couldn’t help getting excited over Zack Morris all over again.
It made me realise. My love for him never stopped; it was never interrupted. It was always there in the background, waiting to be re-discovered, again and again, like an old friend you haven’t seen in years, or the house you grew up in, where you hold all your life-changing and cherished memories. It’ll always go back to Zack. No matter what his age, or whether he’s doing movies or not, it’ll always be him. Because it started with him, and it’s because of him, that I fell in love with the hilarious, gorgeous, friendly, very silly, and completely loyal and dedicated (and very cheeky) man that is my husband.
So for that Zack, I thank you. You are the constant in my life. YOU are continuous…
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Which direction? Every, it appears…
So you know how a while ago I admitted to my embarrassing old man-crush on James Garner? A.K.A the very cool Jim Rockford from The Rockford Files? Well, even more embarrassingly so it seems, I’ve now swung to the other, cradle-snatching side of the pendulum, focusing my swoony eyes upon… One Direction.
Ouch. So hard to admit.
I find the whole fascination with them utterly hilarious. I’ve made fun of the fans in a very tongue-in-cheek way, of course not forgetting that I too, once upon a time, was a full-fledged teeny-bopper, bouncing along to Hanson… then 5ive… then N*Sync.
Yep. I can’t talk.
So I remember how it’s like. The adolescent fantasies, believing that one day, somehow, we would be together (first it was Taylor, then Scott, then Justin… Justin I still love though ) and the obsessive maniac-ness of it all. Posters, CDs, books scrawled with their names, the aggressive defending of anyone even thinking to bag them or their musical-genius talents. Oh yes, I remember. After a big argument we had, my Mum threatened that she would rip off all my Hanson posters when I was at school.
That was quite possibly the worst day EVER of my 14 year life.
Because I’m familiar with those feelings, I will try be sensitive to 1D-ers. But you must admit, they are HILARIOUS. And I was never that annoying too.
Despite my whole rolling-of-the-eyes façade when I see a posse of little girls run around with their ipods blasting “everyone else in the room can see me, everyone else but youuuuuu…” screaming like cats on heat and professing their undying love and devotion to them, even though they will undoubtedly, DEFINITELY, get over them in a year (look at the above list, IT WILL HAPPEN), I too found myself enjoying them a bit too much yesterday.
You know those fillers they place around movies and stuff during daytime TV? Well I saw one yesterday where No Direction performed in the street set-up on the Today show. They sung 3 songs, the first one was the “that’s what makes you beautiful,” the second was my favourite, the “get up, get up, get out of my head! And fall into my arms instead, I don’t I don’t don’t know what it is, but you’ve got that one thing.”
Oh dear. I know the whole chorus. You sing it and try get it out of your head, I dare you.
Then they sang one more song, I don’t think it’s been released (like I should know, big fan I am! LOL) but it was something like “when he lays me down, it just kills me inside…” I was like WTF? You guys are singing about sex? Do your fans even get wet yet?
Sorry. I know that was inappropriate. I tone my blog down because I can be very rude at times, but I just had to say it. Like seriously people. Are they really watching girls they like getting bonked by other guys? At like 15 or whatever their age is?
Anyway, I can’t talk, because in amongst observing all this teen-drama, I realised that Harry is very cute.
Yes Harry. I’m a Harry-girl.
(I’ll just wait for the 1D death threats and angry mails to start flooding – in “he’s mine!” and “I’ll kill you bitch!” They’re little girls though, so I doubt they use foul language yet, few years to go ‘til they hit 12. :p)
He looks very dreamy and has a really sexy voice, it’s very deep for his young, young years. I did previously think that the black-haired guy was cute, the one who reminds me of AJ from Backstreet Boys. But I think I’ve changed, there’s just something very solemn and perplexing about his gaze, especially when he sang the above ‘guy-laying-you-down-I-die’ bit and held his heart. It was like he was actually HURTING.
LOL. I’m having too much fun now.
But if I was a teenybopper now, I would create outrageous fantasies, with Harry, and black-haired AJ look-a-like fighting over me, and then the other dude, no idea what his name is but the girls went nuts when he sang his part, well he would step in and say “hey, move over guys, she’s mine…”
No! Stop it! It’s wrong, so so wrong.
:)
Ouch. So hard to admit.
I find the whole fascination with them utterly hilarious. I’ve made fun of the fans in a very tongue-in-cheek way, of course not forgetting that I too, once upon a time, was a full-fledged teeny-bopper, bouncing along to Hanson… then 5ive… then N*Sync.
Yep. I can’t talk.
So I remember how it’s like. The adolescent fantasies, believing that one day, somehow, we would be together (first it was Taylor, then Scott, then Justin… Justin I still love though ) and the obsessive maniac-ness of it all. Posters, CDs, books scrawled with their names, the aggressive defending of anyone even thinking to bag them or their musical-genius talents. Oh yes, I remember. After a big argument we had, my Mum threatened that she would rip off all my Hanson posters when I was at school.
That was quite possibly the worst day EVER of my 14 year life.
Because I’m familiar with those feelings, I will try be sensitive to 1D-ers. But you must admit, they are HILARIOUS. And I was never that annoying too.
Despite my whole rolling-of-the-eyes façade when I see a posse of little girls run around with their ipods blasting “everyone else in the room can see me, everyone else but youuuuuu…” screaming like cats on heat and professing their undying love and devotion to them, even though they will undoubtedly, DEFINITELY, get over them in a year (look at the above list, IT WILL HAPPEN), I too found myself enjoying them a bit too much yesterday.
You know those fillers they place around movies and stuff during daytime TV? Well I saw one yesterday where No Direction performed in the street set-up on the Today show. They sung 3 songs, the first one was the “that’s what makes you beautiful,” the second was my favourite, the “get up, get up, get out of my head! And fall into my arms instead, I don’t I don’t don’t know what it is, but you’ve got that one thing.”
Oh dear. I know the whole chorus. You sing it and try get it out of your head, I dare you.
Then they sang one more song, I don’t think it’s been released (like I should know, big fan I am! LOL) but it was something like “when he lays me down, it just kills me inside…” I was like WTF? You guys are singing about sex? Do your fans even get wet yet?
Sorry. I know that was inappropriate. I tone my blog down because I can be very rude at times, but I just had to say it. Like seriously people. Are they really watching girls they like getting bonked by other guys? At like 15 or whatever their age is?
Anyway, I can’t talk, because in amongst observing all this teen-drama, I realised that Harry is very cute.
Yes Harry. I’m a Harry-girl.
(I’ll just wait for the 1D death threats and angry mails to start flooding – in “he’s mine!” and “I’ll kill you bitch!” They’re little girls though, so I doubt they use foul language yet, few years to go ‘til they hit 12. :p)
He looks very dreamy and has a really sexy voice, it’s very deep for his young, young years. I did previously think that the black-haired guy was cute, the one who reminds me of AJ from Backstreet Boys. But I think I’ve changed, there’s just something very solemn and perplexing about his gaze, especially when he sang the above ‘guy-laying-you-down-I-die’ bit and held his heart. It was like he was actually HURTING.
LOL. I’m having too much fun now.
But if I was a teenybopper now, I would create outrageous fantasies, with Harry, and black-haired AJ look-a-like fighting over me, and then the other dude, no idea what his name is but the girls went nuts when he sang his part, well he would step in and say “hey, move over guys, she’s mine…”
No! Stop it! It’s wrong, so so wrong.
:)
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Speculating about the Ordinary
I haven’t been blogging so much as of late. There’s so much going on in my life, and so you might say ‘oh yeah you’re busy.’ It happens in blog world. There are times where you get all hyped up and blog like crazy, constantly looking around you for blog inspiration, to the point where you’re at work, doing the best blogging you’ve ever done in your life, completely forgetting to do any actual work.
With all the busy-ness, you’d think that when I actually do get time, that I’d have something to write about. No, nothing.
I was thinking about it yesterday. There is so much going on in my life, and I finally made the effort to link the two together after a convo I was having with Hubbie yesterday. I was telling him how after seeing my relos on the weekend, I was hanging for the day when I could say “BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!”
Well, not as such those words. But whenever they ask me “so, what’s new?” All I want to say is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING has been going on. Instead I go “ahh, not much.”
All the life-changing things that are going on, the things that Hubbie and I plan for, and talk about, my deepest secrets and plans, all of it, are things that I’m not telling anyone. Actually no I lie. The one thing that a small circle of people know about is my book. And whoever has read about it in the blogger-verse, but that I don’t really count that because no one knows who I actually am, and I want to keep it that way. :)
My book. I can’t wait to start this new chapter of my life, (pardon the pun) and move on from this job. I’m so over it. Ok, I’m putting it out there: I’M SO OVER IT. I want to be my own boss, do my own thing, and make my passion, my work, my job. Wouldn’t that be the most glorious thing? Going to work in the morning (down the stairs at home or to the local café which our friends own with my laptop) and doing what I love - writing -all day every day? Having that freedom, to live life as I want – that’s what I aspire to. That’s the dream.
And I just want it to be out there! I’ve finished the second draft, I’m doing fixes, but I feel like I have no time, I need solid blocks of free time to do all my read-throughs and make sure everything connects. I can’t wait to send it out, I seriously can’t wait.
And I can’t wait to scream out to the world: I am an author! But until things are settled, and until it’s actually happening, I need to be patient, and take my time – do things properly.
So in the meantime I say to people “hmm, not much.”
And on top of that, I feel like I have even less reason to blog, because I’ve started a kind of a diary – I did consider making it into another blog, but due to the contents and my hopeful plans for it, I’m keeping it on the low, for now.
Writing book + writing secret journal = not too much time for random blog.
And so you can see why the hell I can’t say anything. It’s so annoying!
“So yeah, I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
“Ahh, can’t say. Oh there’s – nope can’t tell you that either. Oh and - nope sorry.”
That’s the bullshit conversation I want to avoid.
I feel so boring around other people, yet my insides want to burst with excitement. It’s hard. Hubbie and I have things we’re hoping for, and we have things we’re kind of guessing on, but until certain things actually develop and certain circumstances come into fruition, we’ve been standing around, kind of in a state of nothingness, smiling and nodding, saying “Oh, good!”
But our day will come. Too right it will.
With all the busy-ness, you’d think that when I actually do get time, that I’d have something to write about. No, nothing.
I was thinking about it yesterday. There is so much going on in my life, and I finally made the effort to link the two together after a convo I was having with Hubbie yesterday. I was telling him how after seeing my relos on the weekend, I was hanging for the day when I could say “BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!”
Well, not as such those words. But whenever they ask me “so, what’s new?” All I want to say is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING has been going on. Instead I go “ahh, not much.”
All the life-changing things that are going on, the things that Hubbie and I plan for, and talk about, my deepest secrets and plans, all of it, are things that I’m not telling anyone. Actually no I lie. The one thing that a small circle of people know about is my book. And whoever has read about it in the blogger-verse, but that I don’t really count that because no one knows who I actually am, and I want to keep it that way. :)
My book. I can’t wait to start this new chapter of my life, (pardon the pun) and move on from this job. I’m so over it. Ok, I’m putting it out there: I’M SO OVER IT. I want to be my own boss, do my own thing, and make my passion, my work, my job. Wouldn’t that be the most glorious thing? Going to work in the morning (down the stairs at home or to the local café which our friends own with my laptop) and doing what I love - writing -all day every day? Having that freedom, to live life as I want – that’s what I aspire to. That’s the dream.
And I just want it to be out there! I’ve finished the second draft, I’m doing fixes, but I feel like I have no time, I need solid blocks of free time to do all my read-throughs and make sure everything connects. I can’t wait to send it out, I seriously can’t wait.
And I can’t wait to scream out to the world: I am an author! But until things are settled, and until it’s actually happening, I need to be patient, and take my time – do things properly.
So in the meantime I say to people “hmm, not much.”
And on top of that, I feel like I have even less reason to blog, because I’ve started a kind of a diary – I did consider making it into another blog, but due to the contents and my hopeful plans for it, I’m keeping it on the low, for now.
Writing book + writing secret journal = not too much time for random blog.
And so you can see why the hell I can’t say anything. It’s so annoying!
“So yeah, I’ve been busy.”
“With what?”
“Ahh, can’t say. Oh there’s – nope can’t tell you that either. Oh and - nope sorry.”
That’s the bullshit conversation I want to avoid.
I feel so boring around other people, yet my insides want to burst with excitement. It’s hard. Hubbie and I have things we’re hoping for, and we have things we’re kind of guessing on, but until certain things actually develop and certain circumstances come into fruition, we’ve been standing around, kind of in a state of nothingness, smiling and nodding, saying “Oh, good!”
But our day will come. Too right it will.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Prince did it to me
Really he did. I saw him a couple of weeks ago in his ‘Welcome to Australia’ tour, and he was gobsmackingly awesome. So good in fact, that I got sick, like Red and I did years earlier when we first saw Justin.
Yep, once again, we both got sick days later, on the same exact day. I started with muscle aches and shivers on a Friday afternoon, progressing to a temperature, that went away overnight but was replaced with a sore throat, runny nose and coughing.
There’s something so evil about getting sick on a Friday afternoon. It’s a sure-fire way to screw up your weekend.
Now, more than a week later after getting sick, I still have the same annoying, persistent, dry, cough-or-you’ll-die-choking-on-nothing-mofo cough, which is at its worst at night. In the morning it’s decent, but assisted by its good friend flem, which helps it by irritating the f$%^ out of my throat even further, making me cough incessantly but to no avail because the thick flem stays where it is, lodged in my throat, it is almost as bad in the morning because I need to blow my nose ‘til my brain hurts, or stand over the sink gagging and hacking.
This one such morning, I started coughing here early at work, to the point where I had to run away to the bathroom: I just couldn’t take it. I started spitting into the sink, trying to get the flem out, and saw a reddish colour blended into the spit.
Blood. I saw it a couple of days ago as well, but dismissed it as nothing. Seeing it again, I’m still leaning towards the ‘nothing’ theory, nothing meaning the blood is from my irritated throat. I have seen my doctor (albeit last week) and I’m hoping it goes away. Even google was surprisingly encouraging, when I typed in ‘coughing up blood from a sore throat:’ a LOT of searches came up, rather than the usual, ‘You Will Die’ ones when you try net self-diagnose.
People. Never Net Self-Diagnose.
There has been one fantastic upside to all this spluttering, blood-inducing, hacking business. Whenever I get sick like this, and then the cold progresses to my throat, there are a couple of days – well, maybe it’s more like a day and a half – where I get the most fantastic voice.
I love it. My voice is completely screwed up, cracking, breaking, sometimes no noise actually comes out if it’s REALLY bad. There’s a mix of huskiness, hoarseness, and no matter how loud, soft, quick or slow I talk, it stays there, sexy, teasing, like I should be working late night phones. I love it I love it I love it.
I started getting it late Monday, then all day yesterday I just wanted to yap on to hear myself talk, and now today, I can tell it’s going away. It’s just the most fantastic tone. So crackly and full of character, mystery, drama.
I might get (un)lucky and get the voice again when George Michael visits in November
Yep, once again, we both got sick days later, on the same exact day. I started with muscle aches and shivers on a Friday afternoon, progressing to a temperature, that went away overnight but was replaced with a sore throat, runny nose and coughing.
There’s something so evil about getting sick on a Friday afternoon. It’s a sure-fire way to screw up your weekend.
Now, more than a week later after getting sick, I still have the same annoying, persistent, dry, cough-or-you’ll-die-choking-on-nothing-mofo cough, which is at its worst at night. In the morning it’s decent, but assisted by its good friend flem, which helps it by irritating the f$%^ out of my throat even further, making me cough incessantly but to no avail because the thick flem stays where it is, lodged in my throat, it is almost as bad in the morning because I need to blow my nose ‘til my brain hurts, or stand over the sink gagging and hacking.
This one such morning, I started coughing here early at work, to the point where I had to run away to the bathroom: I just couldn’t take it. I started spitting into the sink, trying to get the flem out, and saw a reddish colour blended into the spit.
Blood. I saw it a couple of days ago as well, but dismissed it as nothing. Seeing it again, I’m still leaning towards the ‘nothing’ theory, nothing meaning the blood is from my irritated throat. I have seen my doctor (albeit last week) and I’m hoping it goes away. Even google was surprisingly encouraging, when I typed in ‘coughing up blood from a sore throat:’ a LOT of searches came up, rather than the usual, ‘You Will Die’ ones when you try net self-diagnose.
People. Never Net Self-Diagnose.
There has been one fantastic upside to all this spluttering, blood-inducing, hacking business. Whenever I get sick like this, and then the cold progresses to my throat, there are a couple of days – well, maybe it’s more like a day and a half – where I get the most fantastic voice.
I love it. My voice is completely screwed up, cracking, breaking, sometimes no noise actually comes out if it’s REALLY bad. There’s a mix of huskiness, hoarseness, and no matter how loud, soft, quick or slow I talk, it stays there, sexy, teasing, like I should be working late night phones. I love it I love it I love it.
I started getting it late Monday, then all day yesterday I just wanted to yap on to hear myself talk, and now today, I can tell it’s going away. It’s just the most fantastic tone. So crackly and full of character, mystery, drama.
I might get (un)lucky and get the voice again when George Michael visits in November
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Glass half-full Gal
All I remember is that my last post was about something where I was trying to be funny and light-hearted despite the world-turning that’s been going on since the beginning of the year.
I know this because I remember writing it and thinking “liar Miss S., liar.”
I was trying to put up a bit of a front, in the midst of not knowing what to write, and how the hell to write it.
And the reason I don’t know what I last posted, isn’t just because there’s been so much time between then and now, but also because I write almost all of my posts in emails and word docs before actually posting. I’m actually not on blogger as I write this. I have this fear that the day I do write a post from the ‘New Post’ page that it will be some meaningful, monumental essay that will delete when the computer I’m on randomly crashes.
Random things. I both love them and hate them.
Random is the case in point as I think of how this all started.
I had holidays planned for Feb, and before resuming them I had such wonderful visions of what they would entail. Coffee, shopping, catch-ups with friends, and just general all-round happiness.
The first shock was in finding out about the deaths of the two guys I went to high school with. As much as it rocked my world, within days of writing the post about it and learning to come to terms with it, I was feeling better, and vowing to make my life and my existence an important one in light of how quickly things can change.
THEN.
We were all rocked when quite suddenly a very close member of Hubbie’s family discovered something horrible concerning his health. And my visions of holiday bliss, were quickly changed into accompanying Hubbie to the hospital on more than half the days I was away from work. In trying to remain discreet, let’s just say this is the fight of his life.
I hope I don’t come across as selfish or inconsiderate as I write this. I feel deeply, deeply sorry for the wellbeing of this member, and wish them full health as they struggle to regain balance and return to some sense of normalcy in their life. It will be a long battle, but we all remain positive that he will come out in the end a positive story, an inspiration to others.
It’s just that, there was a moment of… well it’s hard to say. I was annoyed. Not at him, not at the situation, but, in life.
I consider myself a highly organised, highly structured person. I know where all my shoes sit, exactly where all the plates and glasses go in the kitchen drawers, and if I see a book adjusted slightly on the bookshelf, I’ll ask Hubbie “did you read my Shakespeare book?”
I don’t try to be overly obsessive about these things, I’m just naturally an ordered person, and I like it when everything has its place, because I have a lot of stuff. I get it from my Dad, I’m sure. He did the whole army thing, so he knows all about discipline and order.
I was feeling highly frustrated. Not only were my holidays not how they were meant to be, all with getting up early, spending all day in the hospital and then returning home late at night, but there were other pressing matters getting to me. I wanted to finish my book, and had given myself ‘til the end of my holidays to do it. I said to myself, “I know this is bad, but I just have to keep going. Life will throw things at me. But I need to keep writing.”
And there were MORE pressing issues at hand, hopefully some of which I’ll be able to post about in months to come. I was being supportive to Hubbie, but I just felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment in thinking of all the things this year was meant to be, and suddenly realising that EVERYTHING had changed. It was extremely upsetting.
I know, I’m a bitch. The problem with being as self-aware as I am is that I step out of my body all the time and preview the things I’m doing in my life. And in this instance, I was stepping back and saying “you selfish, selfish person.”
And the problem was, not even the awareness of feeling the way I was helped me to get over it. It just made me more desperate, sad, annoyed and frustrated. The frustrated-ness was feeding the selfishness, and the selfishness was feeding the frustrated-ness. It was an ongoing cycle that I couldn’t seem to break.
Today, months later, the situation hasn’t changed much. Only time, facts, learning to cope with it and continuing to live life are the things that have helped make the situation… better? I wouldn’t say better, but we have the upmost positive attitude towards this life changing event, and truly believe things will get better and eventually get back to normal.
What do you do? You have to eventually go back to living life. Because life doesn’t wait for you.
I have learnt to cope with it. I think I needed a bit of time to just stew, whinge that “things weren’t meant to be like this” and go into a depression, in my path to accepting that this was now our reality. I’m totally used to it now, am aware that in life things aren’t always going to be perfect, and I’m just learning to move on and work around this thing without compromising the things I’ve always wanted to do.
I hope I don’t sound too horrible a person. I’m coupled with an infinite amount of empathy, but with it comes an unexpected dose of selfishness. It’s just me. I try to be better, but some leopard spots just don’t change.
As I got to terms with all that was going on, I kept going on with my life. As planned, I finished my book on the last day of my holidays, YAY! It was very exciting for me, and if I do say so myself, I had a couple of tears trickling down my cheeks from happiness. Writing and the entire creation process is an extremely emotional one. You put so much of yourself, your heart, soul and passions into it, that at the end you end up feeling completely overwhelmed by it all.
I’m currently in the process of doing my second draft, and I have two chapters left to go over. Then I will go and research those little bits and pieces that I have to add to the book, go over it a third time (more thoroughly than the second time but hopefully a bit faster!) and then I’ll consider myself kind of done :)
Towards the end of my holidays in Feb I did end up doing a bit of what I’d been craving for at the beginning: coffee, shopping and catch-ups. In fact, I had the best day out with my sister. I just love her so much. I’m not being biased either. She is, THE BOMB.
Later on as well, Red and I ended up going to the cemetery where our friends were buried. We found Wavy first, then after a bit more searching up and down the rows, we came across Seven. Because the burials were relatively fresh, the headstones hadn’t yet been put up, and standing where we were in front of Seven’s site, we could look in front of us about a row or two up, to see Wavy’s. They’d been friends, been in the same classes, the same school, and had died within months of each other. And were now buried within metres of each other too.
Red and I had a few moments just standing there in front of them. Just thinking. I said a quiet goodbye.
On top of that, there were two sudden deaths in amongst all of this, (well maybe one was not so sudden) on Hubbie’s side of the family. It’s just been one thing after another.
Despite the general gloom of this post, I feel things have been much better in the last few months than how I’ve expressed them to be here. Yes, all these things did happen, and yes, some were really bad, and some were really good. (We bought a new car too!)
It’s just the way you see things I guess. Despite how shit I felt earlier in the year, I’m a glass half-full type of gal. I look back at all that and go “well, you learn. Things change.”
And within weeks of all of it first going down, I turned and said to Hubbie “you know what? We’re going to be the ones to bring the sunshine back into their life. We’re going to bring to them the good news that’s been a long time coming. That’s our role in all of this.”
And I truly believe it is.
I know this because I remember writing it and thinking “liar Miss S., liar.”
I was trying to put up a bit of a front, in the midst of not knowing what to write, and how the hell to write it.
And the reason I don’t know what I last posted, isn’t just because there’s been so much time between then and now, but also because I write almost all of my posts in emails and word docs before actually posting. I’m actually not on blogger as I write this. I have this fear that the day I do write a post from the ‘New Post’ page that it will be some meaningful, monumental essay that will delete when the computer I’m on randomly crashes.
Random things. I both love them and hate them.
Random is the case in point as I think of how this all started.
I had holidays planned for Feb, and before resuming them I had such wonderful visions of what they would entail. Coffee, shopping, catch-ups with friends, and just general all-round happiness.
The first shock was in finding out about the deaths of the two guys I went to high school with. As much as it rocked my world, within days of writing the post about it and learning to come to terms with it, I was feeling better, and vowing to make my life and my existence an important one in light of how quickly things can change.
THEN.
We were all rocked when quite suddenly a very close member of Hubbie’s family discovered something horrible concerning his health. And my visions of holiday bliss, were quickly changed into accompanying Hubbie to the hospital on more than half the days I was away from work. In trying to remain discreet, let’s just say this is the fight of his life.
I hope I don’t come across as selfish or inconsiderate as I write this. I feel deeply, deeply sorry for the wellbeing of this member, and wish them full health as they struggle to regain balance and return to some sense of normalcy in their life. It will be a long battle, but we all remain positive that he will come out in the end a positive story, an inspiration to others.
It’s just that, there was a moment of… well it’s hard to say. I was annoyed. Not at him, not at the situation, but, in life.
I consider myself a highly organised, highly structured person. I know where all my shoes sit, exactly where all the plates and glasses go in the kitchen drawers, and if I see a book adjusted slightly on the bookshelf, I’ll ask Hubbie “did you read my Shakespeare book?”
I don’t try to be overly obsessive about these things, I’m just naturally an ordered person, and I like it when everything has its place, because I have a lot of stuff. I get it from my Dad, I’m sure. He did the whole army thing, so he knows all about discipline and order.
I was feeling highly frustrated. Not only were my holidays not how they were meant to be, all with getting up early, spending all day in the hospital and then returning home late at night, but there were other pressing matters getting to me. I wanted to finish my book, and had given myself ‘til the end of my holidays to do it. I said to myself, “I know this is bad, but I just have to keep going. Life will throw things at me. But I need to keep writing.”
And there were MORE pressing issues at hand, hopefully some of which I’ll be able to post about in months to come. I was being supportive to Hubbie, but I just felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment in thinking of all the things this year was meant to be, and suddenly realising that EVERYTHING had changed. It was extremely upsetting.
I know, I’m a bitch. The problem with being as self-aware as I am is that I step out of my body all the time and preview the things I’m doing in my life. And in this instance, I was stepping back and saying “you selfish, selfish person.”
And the problem was, not even the awareness of feeling the way I was helped me to get over it. It just made me more desperate, sad, annoyed and frustrated. The frustrated-ness was feeding the selfishness, and the selfishness was feeding the frustrated-ness. It was an ongoing cycle that I couldn’t seem to break.
Today, months later, the situation hasn’t changed much. Only time, facts, learning to cope with it and continuing to live life are the things that have helped make the situation… better? I wouldn’t say better, but we have the upmost positive attitude towards this life changing event, and truly believe things will get better and eventually get back to normal.
What do you do? You have to eventually go back to living life. Because life doesn’t wait for you.
I have learnt to cope with it. I think I needed a bit of time to just stew, whinge that “things weren’t meant to be like this” and go into a depression, in my path to accepting that this was now our reality. I’m totally used to it now, am aware that in life things aren’t always going to be perfect, and I’m just learning to move on and work around this thing without compromising the things I’ve always wanted to do.
I hope I don’t sound too horrible a person. I’m coupled with an infinite amount of empathy, but with it comes an unexpected dose of selfishness. It’s just me. I try to be better, but some leopard spots just don’t change.
As I got to terms with all that was going on, I kept going on with my life. As planned, I finished my book on the last day of my holidays, YAY! It was very exciting for me, and if I do say so myself, I had a couple of tears trickling down my cheeks from happiness. Writing and the entire creation process is an extremely emotional one. You put so much of yourself, your heart, soul and passions into it, that at the end you end up feeling completely overwhelmed by it all.
I’m currently in the process of doing my second draft, and I have two chapters left to go over. Then I will go and research those little bits and pieces that I have to add to the book, go over it a third time (more thoroughly than the second time but hopefully a bit faster!) and then I’ll consider myself kind of done :)
Towards the end of my holidays in Feb I did end up doing a bit of what I’d been craving for at the beginning: coffee, shopping and catch-ups. In fact, I had the best day out with my sister. I just love her so much. I’m not being biased either. She is, THE BOMB.
Later on as well, Red and I ended up going to the cemetery where our friends were buried. We found Wavy first, then after a bit more searching up and down the rows, we came across Seven. Because the burials were relatively fresh, the headstones hadn’t yet been put up, and standing where we were in front of Seven’s site, we could look in front of us about a row or two up, to see Wavy’s. They’d been friends, been in the same classes, the same school, and had died within months of each other. And were now buried within metres of each other too.
Red and I had a few moments just standing there in front of them. Just thinking. I said a quiet goodbye.
On top of that, there were two sudden deaths in amongst all of this, (well maybe one was not so sudden) on Hubbie’s side of the family. It’s just been one thing after another.
Despite the general gloom of this post, I feel things have been much better in the last few months than how I’ve expressed them to be here. Yes, all these things did happen, and yes, some were really bad, and some were really good. (We bought a new car too!)
It’s just the way you see things I guess. Despite how shit I felt earlier in the year, I’m a glass half-full type of gal. I look back at all that and go “well, you learn. Things change.”
And within weeks of all of it first going down, I turned and said to Hubbie “you know what? We’re going to be the ones to bring the sunshine back into their life. We’re going to bring to them the good news that’s been a long time coming. That’s our role in all of this.”
And I truly believe it is.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
My Blonde Moment
Ha. That suggests I’ve never had others.
I feel like I have the privileged authority of calling attention to blonde moments, because I’ve been blonde before. It wasn’t an all over one tone blonde, but I had that many streaks going through my hair, that when I looked back at those photos of me years later, I was like “Woah. I was like really blonde.”
I’ve now gone from a dark brown (already my hair colour) to a deep red. Anyone who has gone from dark hair to red, knows that the colour ends up being more like a deep burgundy that can only really be seen in sunlight, well-lit areas and in the shower when you see the colour running away down the drain.
I’m melting, I’m melting.
Red says it will take me several more go’s to get my hair a brighter red, which I intend on following through with. I feel like getting a bit crazy.
Anyway, enough with the hair. Onto the moment.
There’s this cheap car park (or should I say long street of angled parking) about a 5 minute walk to my work, which I try get to when I drive in. It seems that the more time goes by, the more people seem to be discovering it, and are getting there at ridiculous times in order to nab a spot, even though their work shifts don’t start for a while. I know this because I am that one such person.
Today I got there just under half hour before my early morning shift. That time a couple of days ago, there were perhaps 6-7 spots left. Today at the exact same time, the last spot was just being taken. Grrr.
To make matters worse, the person getting the last spot just kind of hovered there with their indicator on, not turning into it until I drove past. Annoying. Trying to rub it in huh?
So I had to go to my back-up plan. This other open car park that I used to park at for years before I discovered the cheaper one, is half the distance. So despite being double the price, there is that one benefit. Only annoying thing about it is, you have to pay into this stupid machine that only takes coins, or credit card.
Well I didn’t come prepared with enough coins, did I? I’d paid via credit there before, so pulling up to the stupid machine in the pitch-black morning, I pulled out my blue card from my wallet, and inserted it.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So again.
I put the card in. The machine said to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I still had no ticket, and the damn boom gate still hadn’t moved.
I repeated this about another 4 times I think. Frustration and anxiety building at every moment because another car was waiting behind me. After he high-beamed, and after one more failed attempt, I got out of the car to ask him for help. Maybe I was putting in the card wrong, though I was doing it the way the machine illustration was telling me to.
“Sorry,” I started.
“Can you reverse, so I can try?” he asked briskly.
“Yeah.” I walked back to my car, upset, and reversed to the side. I watched as he put in his card, and within moments, he was through the boom gate.
At this stage the guy who works at the car park arrived. Feeling a bit better, knowing if it didn’t work he could perhaps help me out, I went forward again.
I tried again.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So I called out “excuse me.”
He came over. “Oh, what have you done now. You come back once in a blue moon and you can’t work the machine.”
Grrrr.
“I’ve done this like 6 times, and it keeps saying it’s authorising, then it goes back to normal. I just hope it hasn’t charged me all those times.”
“No, it shouldn’t, only if it goes through all the way.”
“Am I putting it in right?”
As I handed him my card, he looked at it and said “hmm, it’s a debit card.”
“It’s a credit card,” I confirmed, and as I said that I looked at the card as he handed it back to me.
It’s my freaking car insurance member card.
“Uh, maybe another credit card will work,” I fumbled as I ripped out my actual genuine credit card, while he walked behind the back of the stand.
I watched the machine with anticipation, feeling like a complete idiot, sooooo glad the guy hadn’t worked it out yet. If he had, he would’ve paid me out, BIG TIME.
The machine made a ringing noise as it displayed ‘wait for your ticket.’
And then the gate opened.
I felt like a complete tool. Both cards are blue, and were sitting relatively close to each other in my wallet. It was an easy mistake I guess, but seriously, all I could think in that moment was.
What a blonde.
It’s also like the time I typed in my Eftpos card password into the alarm code at my previous job, crying out ‘why won’t you turn off?’ while the alarm chimed loudly threatening to go off at any moment.
10 seconds of fear later and my comprehension kicked in. I was getting my monthlies, blame them.
I feel like I have the privileged authority of calling attention to blonde moments, because I’ve been blonde before. It wasn’t an all over one tone blonde, but I had that many streaks going through my hair, that when I looked back at those photos of me years later, I was like “Woah. I was like really blonde.”
I’ve now gone from a dark brown (already my hair colour) to a deep red. Anyone who has gone from dark hair to red, knows that the colour ends up being more like a deep burgundy that can only really be seen in sunlight, well-lit areas and in the shower when you see the colour running away down the drain.
I’m melting, I’m melting.
Red says it will take me several more go’s to get my hair a brighter red, which I intend on following through with. I feel like getting a bit crazy.
Anyway, enough with the hair. Onto the moment.
There’s this cheap car park (or should I say long street of angled parking) about a 5 minute walk to my work, which I try get to when I drive in. It seems that the more time goes by, the more people seem to be discovering it, and are getting there at ridiculous times in order to nab a spot, even though their work shifts don’t start for a while. I know this because I am that one such person.
Today I got there just under half hour before my early morning shift. That time a couple of days ago, there were perhaps 6-7 spots left. Today at the exact same time, the last spot was just being taken. Grrr.
To make matters worse, the person getting the last spot just kind of hovered there with their indicator on, not turning into it until I drove past. Annoying. Trying to rub it in huh?
So I had to go to my back-up plan. This other open car park that I used to park at for years before I discovered the cheaper one, is half the distance. So despite being double the price, there is that one benefit. Only annoying thing about it is, you have to pay into this stupid machine that only takes coins, or credit card.
Well I didn’t come prepared with enough coins, did I? I’d paid via credit there before, so pulling up to the stupid machine in the pitch-black morning, I pulled out my blue card from my wallet, and inserted it.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So again.
I put the card in. The machine said to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I still had no ticket, and the damn boom gate still hadn’t moved.
I repeated this about another 4 times I think. Frustration and anxiety building at every moment because another car was waiting behind me. After he high-beamed, and after one more failed attempt, I got out of the car to ask him for help. Maybe I was putting in the card wrong, though I was doing it the way the machine illustration was telling me to.
“Sorry,” I started.
“Can you reverse, so I can try?” he asked briskly.
“Yeah.” I walked back to my car, upset, and reversed to the side. I watched as he put in his card, and within moments, he was through the boom gate.
At this stage the guy who works at the car park arrived. Feeling a bit better, knowing if it didn’t work he could perhaps help me out, I went forward again.
I tried again.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So I called out “excuse me.”
He came over. “Oh, what have you done now. You come back once in a blue moon and you can’t work the machine.”
Grrrr.
“I’ve done this like 6 times, and it keeps saying it’s authorising, then it goes back to normal. I just hope it hasn’t charged me all those times.”
“No, it shouldn’t, only if it goes through all the way.”
“Am I putting it in right?”
As I handed him my card, he looked at it and said “hmm, it’s a debit card.”
“It’s a credit card,” I confirmed, and as I said that I looked at the card as he handed it back to me.
It’s my freaking car insurance member card.
“Uh, maybe another credit card will work,” I fumbled as I ripped out my actual genuine credit card, while he walked behind the back of the stand.
I watched the machine with anticipation, feeling like a complete idiot, sooooo glad the guy hadn’t worked it out yet. If he had, he would’ve paid me out, BIG TIME.
The machine made a ringing noise as it displayed ‘wait for your ticket.’
And then the gate opened.
I felt like a complete tool. Both cards are blue, and were sitting relatively close to each other in my wallet. It was an easy mistake I guess, but seriously, all I could think in that moment was.
What a blonde.
It’s also like the time I typed in my Eftpos card password into the alarm code at my previous job, crying out ‘why won’t you turn off?’ while the alarm chimed loudly threatening to go off at any moment.
10 seconds of fear later and my comprehension kicked in. I was getting my monthlies, blame them.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Symmetry is screwed.... (The Peculiarity of Symmetry Part 2)
So last night we got a phone call from Hubbie's best mate. He'd heard the bad news that a guy I went to high school with, or rather we all went to high school with but he was closer in age to me and my friends, well he died on the weekend from a motorbike accident.
We were really shocked, myself probably more so. We were in several classes together, we spoke often, and I have vivid memories of him. He wasn't like a friend friend, but you know when the whole class sort of knows everyone, and everyone interacts? Well he was that person to me and my friends. At one point he was something more to one of my friends, but we'll get to that later.
He meant well, but for some reason as he got older, he deliberately pursued getting involved with the bad crowd. He deliberately made trouble in and out of class so as to gain attention, and be recognised as a bad boy. We could really see through it. Maybe that was due to the fact that he was a year younger than us, and we weren't as easily impressed by those tactics than if they had been performed by someone older than us who we feared/looked up to. That goes hand in hand in high school.
So when I heard the news about (we'll call him Seven) him yesterday, I couldn't help but think about him and be shocked by the whole events. I hadn't really heard of him since those high school days, and every so often if someone from that year was mentioned, my mind couldn't help but wander and think of where he had ended up.
So Red was my friend who he was more than just a school friend to at one stage. He was the first guy she kissed, however it didn't go any further than that, and all of us, with he and his friends, remained good friends throughout those early years of high school.
I called Red yesterday to see if she had heard. I already suspected she may have, just with the fact that everyone knows everyone: and she had. She was shocked too by it all. And then she told me something else.
"Miss S, did you hear about - (we'll call him Wavy)?"
"Which wavy?" (there are a lot of people with this common name Wavy.)
"Wavy, the one you kissed?"
"What?"
"He had c------."
I couldn't hear her. "What?"
"He had cancer. He died months ago."
I was floored. This was a guy I hadn't seen since my high school days either. I'd often wondered where he had ended up, as usually I saw some people from high school around and about, shopping, clubs, whatever. But he and his friends, (and he was sort of in the same group as Seven) I never heard anything of, and I always wondered if they were all in some bad crowd and that's why we never saw them.
Both Seven and Wavy were in similar groups. They were both a year younger than Red and I. They had died within months of each other. And they were both our first kiss'.
....
....
....
They say bad luck comes in threes, but for something like this, so horrible to happen, and then to start to see the likeness behind it all, the weird 'coincidences', is scary. I was more in shock yesterday, keen to get home and check facebook because Red told me she'd seen a memorial page for him there. She'd kept forgetting to tell me about it.
It was so hard to find it. I didnt know his last name, and I was trying all kinds of searches. And then the net kept playing up on me. Finally, after midnight last night (or should I say this morning) I found the R.I.P page dedicated to him. It was a combination of sickness, shock and dark acceptance that ran through me as I looked at the photo they had put up of him. Wavy's photo looked like him, just a but more manly, you know how guys bulk up a bit over time. Then I went to look at more photos of him that had been put up, and I almost turned away saying "no that's not him."
That horrible horrible disease. He didn't look like him. I feel so upset just thinking of it now. It's so unfair. I actually convinced myself for a moment that I had the wrong Wavy, until I looked closer at the photos. His face looked different, and his hair was closely shaved due to the treatment I'm guesing. He was such a good looking guy. He was really sweet, and really nice.
He never treated me bad. There was in fact nothing he ever did wrong. It was all me, and never was the statement "it's not you, it's me" more truer than in this case. Honestly, I liked him, and I had him for a short while until I realised I wanted something different. I was honest with him when I broke it off, and although he took it well, I have so much guilt now, wondering if I hurt his feelings or made him feel horrible.
It's amazing you know. You don't think someone has affected you, until they're gone. It's weird because I've thought of him at odd times during the years, and at one point said to myself "it's like he's fallen off the face of the earth." I actually thought that. And a couple of months ago, I thought I saw him on a train. But thinking of those photos I saw, that wasn't him on the train. Definitely not.
It may sound overly self-indulgent, and I don't mean it to sound that way, but I just hope that none of my actions affected him and made his life different. I may not have had that kind of impact on his life, just from one moment in time: and hey, I really hope I didn't. I just pray and hope that he had lots of love and happiness surrounding him at all times. And that he wasn't alone. Even though ultimately, we all die alone.
It's breaking me up inside.
I've already kind of said my goodbye, but it still feels weird, unfinished. I wish I'd known. I don't know what I could have done, what I would have done, but I almost feel like asking Red if she wants to visit their gravesites, even though I have no idea where they are. She's as blown away by all this as I am, and she is also freaking out about the symmetry of it all.
I've had a cousin murdered, another cousin commit suicide, an aunty die suddenly of cancer; and as devastating as all those things were, I'm really shook by this. They were both so young, younger than myself. For Wavy, especially, I know it's cliche to say but he didn't deserve it. He was really a greay guy. As someone on his memory page said, he hadn't even had a chance to be a husband, a father. That is so unfair.
Because he played such a monumental role in my life, as short as the time was, that's why I think I'm so blown away by it all. He died such a short time ago, and his family and friends are still writing things on his page and posting photos. It was devastating to read, but I guess good knowing he was so loved, is so loved.
I hadn't seen him for such a long time. Never would I imagine this would happen, and that he would mark such strong emotions in me after his death. I'm still in shock. I don't know what to think. I pray and hope he is safe, well and in peace where he is right now.
When it comes to death, I have no answers. I try to live my life on a positive scale every day, and look at the good, and the secret messages in everything, even the bad. I struggle when it comes to death though. As I wrote to Red "The only thing we can do is take this experience and use it to keep pursuing our dreams, keep moving forward. We can only try."
We are the lucky ones. We are still breathing, still living. Every day is a blessing. Be happy (although I'm almost crying). Live life to the fullest. Do what your heart says. Because for some, life is too short, and for others, it is too painful. So enjoy the moments you have, and always be grateful that at the very least you have your breath.
R.I.P Seven.
R.I.P Wavy. I will always remember you.
We were really shocked, myself probably more so. We were in several classes together, we spoke often, and I have vivid memories of him. He wasn't like a friend friend, but you know when the whole class sort of knows everyone, and everyone interacts? Well he was that person to me and my friends. At one point he was something more to one of my friends, but we'll get to that later.
He meant well, but for some reason as he got older, he deliberately pursued getting involved with the bad crowd. He deliberately made trouble in and out of class so as to gain attention, and be recognised as a bad boy. We could really see through it. Maybe that was due to the fact that he was a year younger than us, and we weren't as easily impressed by those tactics than if they had been performed by someone older than us who we feared/looked up to. That goes hand in hand in high school.
So when I heard the news about (we'll call him Seven) him yesterday, I couldn't help but think about him and be shocked by the whole events. I hadn't really heard of him since those high school days, and every so often if someone from that year was mentioned, my mind couldn't help but wander and think of where he had ended up.
So Red was my friend who he was more than just a school friend to at one stage. He was the first guy she kissed, however it didn't go any further than that, and all of us, with he and his friends, remained good friends throughout those early years of high school.
I called Red yesterday to see if she had heard. I already suspected she may have, just with the fact that everyone knows everyone: and she had. She was shocked too by it all. And then she told me something else.
"Miss S, did you hear about - (we'll call him Wavy)?"
"Which wavy?" (there are a lot of people with this common name Wavy.)
"Wavy, the one you kissed?"
"What?"
"He had c------."
I couldn't hear her. "What?"
"He had cancer. He died months ago."
I was floored. This was a guy I hadn't seen since my high school days either. I'd often wondered where he had ended up, as usually I saw some people from high school around and about, shopping, clubs, whatever. But he and his friends, (and he was sort of in the same group as Seven) I never heard anything of, and I always wondered if they were all in some bad crowd and that's why we never saw them.
Both Seven and Wavy were in similar groups. They were both a year younger than Red and I. They had died within months of each other. And they were both our first kiss'.
....
....
....
They say bad luck comes in threes, but for something like this, so horrible to happen, and then to start to see the likeness behind it all, the weird 'coincidences', is scary. I was more in shock yesterday, keen to get home and check facebook because Red told me she'd seen a memorial page for him there. She'd kept forgetting to tell me about it.
It was so hard to find it. I didnt know his last name, and I was trying all kinds of searches. And then the net kept playing up on me. Finally, after midnight last night (or should I say this morning) I found the R.I.P page dedicated to him. It was a combination of sickness, shock and dark acceptance that ran through me as I looked at the photo they had put up of him. Wavy's photo looked like him, just a but more manly, you know how guys bulk up a bit over time. Then I went to look at more photos of him that had been put up, and I almost turned away saying "no that's not him."
That horrible horrible disease. He didn't look like him. I feel so upset just thinking of it now. It's so unfair. I actually convinced myself for a moment that I had the wrong Wavy, until I looked closer at the photos. His face looked different, and his hair was closely shaved due to the treatment I'm guesing. He was such a good looking guy. He was really sweet, and really nice.
He never treated me bad. There was in fact nothing he ever did wrong. It was all me, and never was the statement "it's not you, it's me" more truer than in this case. Honestly, I liked him, and I had him for a short while until I realised I wanted something different. I was honest with him when I broke it off, and although he took it well, I have so much guilt now, wondering if I hurt his feelings or made him feel horrible.
It's amazing you know. You don't think someone has affected you, until they're gone. It's weird because I've thought of him at odd times during the years, and at one point said to myself "it's like he's fallen off the face of the earth." I actually thought that. And a couple of months ago, I thought I saw him on a train. But thinking of those photos I saw, that wasn't him on the train. Definitely not.
It may sound overly self-indulgent, and I don't mean it to sound that way, but I just hope that none of my actions affected him and made his life different. I may not have had that kind of impact on his life, just from one moment in time: and hey, I really hope I didn't. I just pray and hope that he had lots of love and happiness surrounding him at all times. And that he wasn't alone. Even though ultimately, we all die alone.
It's breaking me up inside.
I've already kind of said my goodbye, but it still feels weird, unfinished. I wish I'd known. I don't know what I could have done, what I would have done, but I almost feel like asking Red if she wants to visit their gravesites, even though I have no idea where they are. She's as blown away by all this as I am, and she is also freaking out about the symmetry of it all.
I've had a cousin murdered, another cousin commit suicide, an aunty die suddenly of cancer; and as devastating as all those things were, I'm really shook by this. They were both so young, younger than myself. For Wavy, especially, I know it's cliche to say but he didn't deserve it. He was really a greay guy. As someone on his memory page said, he hadn't even had a chance to be a husband, a father. That is so unfair.
Because he played such a monumental role in my life, as short as the time was, that's why I think I'm so blown away by it all. He died such a short time ago, and his family and friends are still writing things on his page and posting photos. It was devastating to read, but I guess good knowing he was so loved, is so loved.
I hadn't seen him for such a long time. Never would I imagine this would happen, and that he would mark such strong emotions in me after his death. I'm still in shock. I don't know what to think. I pray and hope he is safe, well and in peace where he is right now.
When it comes to death, I have no answers. I try to live my life on a positive scale every day, and look at the good, and the secret messages in everything, even the bad. I struggle when it comes to death though. As I wrote to Red "The only thing we can do is take this experience and use it to keep pursuing our dreams, keep moving forward. We can only try."
We are the lucky ones. We are still breathing, still living. Every day is a blessing. Be happy (although I'm almost crying). Live life to the fullest. Do what your heart says. Because for some, life is too short, and for others, it is too painful. So enjoy the moments you have, and always be grateful that at the very least you have your breath.
R.I.P Seven.
R.I.P Wavy. I will always remember you.
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