Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Travel FAQs

WHAT?! Last post on the 13th September?! Madness.

This is the beginning of a blog. Technically, ^^^^ that was. But this is the Real Beginning of the Blog. Le Snak Deli Tomato and Basil dipper things are gross. Don’t buy them.
That is all.

But not really!
I am humbly returning. Slowly. And humblyly. But it is happenin’. Don’t wet yourself. We’re all excited, but there’s no need to publically shame yourself.
Begin the bloggering!
NOW, as you all know, I have been overseas and yada yada yada.
One thing of which you will be quite aware, young readers, if you have travelled in your days, is that upon your happy return, there are a few questions that you will be asked.
By everyone.
You have ever or will ever meet.
*pops out of bowl of cookies* FOREVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
I am now going to answer some of these, giving both my answers, and general rules and advice for people approaching this topic - either as an asker or an askee.

We'll start with the question I was asked by my younger step-brother upon my return.
"So ... what did you do?"
Well, Sunny Sunny Sunny Bear. A freaking darn lot. A lot. I was away for a while, and I didn't spend it sittin' around doin' nothin'. A'ight? Apostrophe.
If you ask this, you've not travelled enough. Travel stories are not the kind of things that just pop out on demand *keeps away from the potentially awesome 'That's what she said'*. They are the kind of thing that pop up while someone is talking about something that happened in their life, which will inevitably be kind of boring, and something they say reminds you of the hilarious and undeniably fascinating time that blah did blah blah on the top of the blah, whereupon you'll rudely interrupt your fellow conversationalist and delight them in the wonders of your fantastic story. That is how travel stories work.
If you ask me for a story, don't get pissy when I interrupt you half an hour later. You're boring and you asked for it. :D

"Where did you go?"
Obviously there's no unequivocal  answer for this for everybody, unless you just want to stick with "Somewhere much better than standing here talking to you." If you're considering saying this, I might suggest staying away from the additional statement of "Of course, falling into the sun or existing for the rest of my life in a pig's trough would be preferable than standing here talking to you." People tend to take it badly.
Someone may stick a 'kick me' sign on your back; or worse, a 'throw me off a cliff onto some particularly dangerous looking rocks' sign. If you're superbly offensive (say, if you manage to insult their mother at the same time) KEEP AN EYE out for the horror of horrors - the 'lock me in a room playing nothing but a Justin Bieber/Rebecca Black/Nyan Cat remix for the rest of my life' sign.

Aaaaaanyway the places I went will be listed below:
-- Just kidding. I'm not a bebo page.

San Francisco
New Orleans
New York
Washington DC


Wigan (Woooo!)

Republic of Ireland


Vatican City




Lucerne/Mt Rigi



The Netherlands

Czech Republic


OK. I think that's everywhere. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!
What I lucky ducky mucky Kentucky I am, amirite?
Don’t do that. Don’t bring your amirites here. Because you know what? Urnotrite. You might be right, but you are sure as heckfire notrite.

“How long were you away for?”
Again, vary this answer to fit you. Unless you just want to outright lie because you were dodging a job or a psychopathic fish or something. If you’re a pathological liar, see how long you can get away with saying you were away for, before people start asking their party-pooping questions like “But … if you were away for 23 years, why have you not aged? Why have I not aged? What is this miracle wrinkle cream I have been unknowingly using on myself and everyone in my whole life to prevent the cruel passage of time?”

Pour moi, I was away for nearly 5 months. 4 months and three weekaloonies. Or summat like that.

“Wow, that’s not a long time considering how many places you went! You must have been really exhausted by the end!” says enthusiastic conversation partner enthusiastically and conversationally. And partnerly (oo-er).

“Oh really? I hadn’t realised that. I especially didn’t realise when, in the last three weekaloonies, my body sort of started dying and I was almost unceasingly sick for the rest of the trip. That was when I really didn’t notice.”

“What was your favourite place?”
Ah, this. The most frustrating of all travel questions. This is fine if you go to Fiji for a week. You can come back and say “Yes. On my Fiji trip, I’d probably have to place Figi as the number on place I went, just topping out above Sydney airport and a right sight higher than the car ride to the airport.”
This is not. At all. A simple question. When you have been travelling constantly for (nearly) 5 months.
My advice to travellers faced with this question would just be to either
aa)      Randomly pick one place, even if it wasn’t actually your favourite, and tell everyone that one. At least you don’t have to think about. But make sure you also make up a reason why, because that’s always the equally annoying follow up question (THERE IS NO REASON WHY IT WAS JUST COOL SHUT UP)
bb)      Tell everyone who asks a different place. When you run out of places either go back to the start, or just start making up new places. Who are they to know? If they wanted to know, they should have COME ON YOUR trip. Dickheads.

New Orleans
Washington DC
were mine. In no particularly order. Edinburgh had the Fringe, N’awlins was just a mad fun vibe, DC was beautiful, Barcelona was fun and exciting, Lucerne was slice-my-eyes-out-and-serve-them-for-tea-because-they’ll-never-again-see-anything-this-beautiful beautiful, Venice was intricate and fascinating and Prague was just really good and stuff. That clock, right?

Everywhere else was good, except Rome. I am not a Rome fan. Rome is bad. I plan on not going back to Rome. Stupid Rome. 

The “If you could live anywhere you went, where would it be?” question is tied in with this, and I’d have to say Edinburgh number one, because beautiful and English-speaking, and close to all the other European places. But I’d live in any of them. Fo’ realz, shiznit.

And there you go. Adrienne’s polite, over-whelmingly kind, tolerant and patient answers to YOUR questions.
That’s the end of the blog. It’s over. Go home.
*waves you away*


Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Controversial Opinions - You've been warned, don't hate

I don't know if it's just because I'm Australian, and wholly unaffected (directly) by it, but while I feel that September 11 2001 was a terribly sad thing that happened, I don't really understand it.
It seems to me that most of the reasons it gets so much publicity every single year is for reasons that don't really have a great deal to do with the actual event of people dying. Primarily, it was what started the war on terror (during which, I feel obliged to point out, tens of thousands of Afghan people have died, and over a million Iraqis have estimates to have died, most of them completely innocent of anything), and secondarily, it happened to Americans.

This is something that was said to me at Black Stump one year:
If you had known before the attacks on the Twin Towers, what was going to happen, what would you have done? It's obvious. You would have done everything you could to let as many people know, in an attempt to stop it. Come on, you'd be saving the lives of nearly 3000 people. You would have done whatever it took.
Do you what this web site says? And this one? Or even this (that one has a game - play!)?
They all give approximate figures of how many people die every day from poverty all over the world. And that number is estimated to be over 10 times as many as died on September 11 2001. Every day.

I'm not saying that you should feel bad about the fact that this is happening (though you probably should feel something) - I'm just trying to illustrate the point that all of us would have gone to huge efforts to save this group of people, who received so much media attention after their death, and who were American, and lived in a country that could afford to go to war. A war that has since resulted in the deaths of many, many more people. Americans, Australians, Germans, Somalians, Pakistanis, Iraqis, Afghan people, as well as many more. And of those, who are the ones you hear about? Do you hear about the innocent people who die in the countries that are the enemies of America? Yes, but do you hear about it on the scale that you hear about the people 'on our side'? Not even close.

I just don't understand. I'm not offering another solution, and I'm not offering my opinions on war in general. Just all the hype about September 11 always reminds me of those questions I got asked that Black Stump, and wonder why I never see any "R.I.P. people who died from hunger today."

I'd also just like to say that I have a million more issues with this whole thing, such as people's validations for the war, and the fact that a 'War on Terror' is not a thing (watch me!) as well as a bunch of other things, but I'm trying to present this in a inoffensively as I can, and only deal with a part of it, because once I start thinking of things like this, I think of more and it all ends up in a blur.

I really just feel like this is something that is predominant mostly because it happened to Americans, Americans had the ability and tenacity to carry out retaliation, and the retaliation has since caused so much to change in the world.

I'll finish with this. Yesterday in the newspaper I read a short section, where someone was simply asking how the world would be different, if America hadn't reacted with war. Not speculating on whether it would be better or worse. Just thinking about it.
Think about it.

tl;dr I say things some people will agree with, some people won't, and will cause some people to hate on me.

Friday, 2 September 2011

Anger and updates.

Aw, shit. No. No no no no NO.
This is horrible ...
I actually feel like crying, and honestly for no reason.
It's just, I finally thought of something to write about, finally finally FINALLY, and literally all that happened between me having the thought, starting to plan out the blog, and now, is that I opened blogspot, opened a new post, read two posts from another blog AND THAT'S ALL. Why can't I remember?
I know I was watching the news, and my idea came from a combination of the news and talking to someone, but that's all.
Oh! But they found Ned Kelly's bones! That's a bit exciting.
But this is so terrible. I want so much to write more on this, but there is so much going on that I have nothing to say. That sounds strange, but all of my experiences happen so quickly, and are over so quickly, that I end up not having enough detail or whatever interesting enough to write about.

So here's a list of movies I'm desperate to watch:
Crazy Stupid Love

Friends With Benefits
HP 7.2 (again)
Green Lantern
Cowboys and Aliens
Captain America

I think that's all.

There, that should sate you.

But actually no I'll write something.
I've now been in the Europe side of the world for nearly a month, and I've done perhaps less than I'd have liked, but I'm still having a fabulous time. I arrived with Alex in to Manchester, and left her to wait around for a few hours for her train (but she got there ok!) and took mine to Wigan Wallgate station. I don't know if you've ever been to Wigan (actually, yes, I do; you haven't) but it wouldn't be the first place I'd recommend for a happenin' tourist destination, if you do head England way. Kind of reminds me of Queanbizzle, in the ... mature young ladies kind of way. So there's that. But I was there to see family, which was lovely and boy did I get to see the family. Staying in a house with two parents, three kids and a nanny was pretty ... full on? Nah, not nearly as terrible as it sounds, despite the fact that everyone (including me ...) was sick. But it was really great seeing them, and I went to rugby games (rugby! me! I know!) which were a lot of fun, and I got to see my rugby coach uncle (future coach of the Rabbitohs, if you're wondering) be all famous. Wiganers were literally waiting around for over an hour after the game for his autograph. Surreal.

Anyway, while I was in Wigan I went on a couple of overnight trips; one to Liverpool where I got to see my mum and grandmother, and one to Edinburgh. Liverpool was very pretty, and good fun, though to be honest I did run out of things to do a little bit, and ended up just lying in the sun for a while, watching some guys skateboard and snoozing, which was very nice. In case you didn't pick it up from my facebook status, Edinburgh was fantastic and please go there go there go there it's amazing. Fringe, man!

From Wigan I left to Oxford, where I saw the Midnight Beast (I've since had dreams about that night and I am kidding you not) and met these two fantastic girls who invited me to party with them at Mahiki when I'm in London (I am a social butterfly), and also Oxford is terribly lovely. Despite all the touristy Oxford Uni shops, but even THOSE are classier than normal tourist shops. The second day I went to Christ Church College, and walked on the steps leading into the Great Hall they used in Harry Potter, and walked in the Great Hall that was the inspiration for the Great Hall in Harry Potter* which was great and the whole college was beautiful, and possibly one of the most beautiful places I've been this whole trip (tied with the sculpture garden in New Orleans), BUT having uploaded photos to facebook the previous night, I'd left my SD card in my computer, twat, and could only take 8 photos. Brilliant.

Then it was away to London, where I got to see my mum and granny again, and we had a few pretty nice and casual days because Eurostarring to Paris. Our hotel was average, but only a few minutes walk from the Eiffel Tower, so you won't hear me complaining (too loudly :P) and in Paris we did Parisian things, like dinner in amazing little restaurants and eating the BEST creme brulee ever and AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS BEANS. Oh my god, those beans. Have Parisian beans. Also I got 2 dresses from Galeries Lafayette. Winner!
And then we did Notre Dame and Versailles, and Moulin Rouge and a cruise on the Seine and the Louvre (kind of) and saw a whole bunch of things from Anna and the French Kiss, which I'm now rereading with a fond sense of nostalgia.
Anyway, so Paris was stellar.

Now I'm back in London with other family, and that's nice, and I'm about to head out do some serious David Tennant stalking, and then going to Dublin tomorrow and Belfast after and back here before Norway, then off on my big tour!

I hoped while writing this I might think of what it was I wanted to write, but I haven't, but I do hope to write more. I want to. I love it. I find it ... cathartic.
So that's me for now. I'll try and write more travel updates, even if it's just for me to look back on in 20 years, but also for any curious observers. :)

Plenty of loves, oddlings. I think you're all spectacular.

P.S. Wish me luck with David Tennant. :D

*It originally going to BE the Great Hall, and they started filming in there, but the production team obviously didn't factor in the fact that it is still a school, and in fact, the people have to come in there to eat three times a day, which wasn't exactly conducive to filming. So they took measurements, tweaked them a bit, and spent $4 million or pounds or something building a replica.

Saturday, 25 June 2011

Well, this is nice.

I haven't done this in a really long time. Like, more than a month? I don't know, but not only has it been a really long time, but so much has happened since I last posted.
I finished my job, I was sick, I started travelling for four and half months. Y'know. The usual.

So because I feel I have at the same time so much to write, and no way to write it, I am going to do brief points about highlights from the trip.

My first view of downtown San Francisco was of homeless people and the really pretty G A P store.

I only did two of the four obligatory touristy things there, but that was OK.

We've seen tonnes of animals. Deer (baby deer!), foxes, squirrels, I think I saw a chipmunk today, a raccoon, Canadian Geese and Canadian Goslings, and more that I forget.

Clothing optional beach male:female ratios were very reminiscent of Euro-Trip. 8:1 approx. Awks. Also, we nicknamed incoming naked males dugongs, and incoming naked women rainbows.

Boise was actually lovely. I know I sound surprised, and that's because I was not expecting there to be as much to do there as there was, but it was really good, and I would seriously recommend it.
Also, thank you B.A.D. and Corey. :) You guys are stellar.

I got three dresses for $30.

The weather keeps changing from very hot to not very hot.

There was a car parked poorly in Boise and I wrote a note on it.

I saw the San Andreas fault. IN inACTION!

I went to Two Gentlemen of Verona (for some reason I always want to write that as 'Gentlement').

There are others but I forget. That's one thing that's really frustrating: my handbag isn't big enough for my notebook, so when I'm out during the day and I have a thought that's like "oh, that'll make a good story" or "haha, that's a funny thing" and I want to write it down, I can't, and then when I get home (to the hostel) I forget what it is, and it's terrible. Cool story bro.

Here's a thing I actually want to talk about, inspired by booshoe37.
The word and use of the word 'nice'.

I remember being told by Mr Mahalm in year 4 (or 5...?) that 'nice' is not an acceptable description of something. In fact, if someone used that word, the N word, he would in fact* demand we find another way to say what we were trying to say. While I was never on the receiving end of this, I don't think, I do remember thinking at the time what's wrong with 'nice'? i know what nice means. i think it's fine.
Yes. I thought in lower case. I also used other mediocre words such as 'fine'.

Now, however, how my perceptions have changed!
I noticed over a long period of time, with the final point of utter realisation being when something I was really interested in was said to be 'nice' and I had no idea what that meant. All I can't get out of that is that it wasn't terrible. But if it had been good enough, it's highly likely that the person would have said 'it was amazing', but not certain, so I'm left with no certainty about if it's even good or not! They could have thought it was great and just didn't want to tell me! And then if it was excellent, what made it so good? Or if it wasn't, what made it only average? I know this is one of my rant-y blogs, but as I'm sure you're aware, I have a deep appreciation for the English language (despite my reluctance to proof-read) and 'nice' is a slap in the face to sophisticated language use.

There are so many single words that could describe anything better in any situation more adequately than 'nice'. And simple two words phrases to describe it opens up millions of possibilities. Things like "awkwardly funny" or "unexpectedly moving" or "beautifully spectacular" tell me your impressions, prior expectations, feelings, and actually give me detail, at very little effort more than mumbling out an unimpressed 'nice'.

I could say that all of the places I've been to, and all the experiences I've had have been nice. They all have been. I haven't had anything terrible, but I've had a nice time. And that tells you NOTHING.

There is a whole world of beautiful, amazing, descriptive, apt words for whatever you're trying to say. Don't settle for 'nice'.

*that's another thing that annoys me:
Come on guys, it's 'in fact'. Two words.
Also 'a lot' not 'alot' (@ANB).

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

An edit:

My mum reads my blog. My dad reads my blog. Hello, Mutti. Hello, Vati. Hello, Alex, who is wondering why I'm talking to her parents.
[You always forget, silly ducking duckling.]

Anyway, the point is, my mum reads my blog, and she read that one about my first day of school, and asked me why I hadn't mentioned an element of that story, and I was like "What?! I do not even remember this!"
So here I am, adding part of the story that I neglected to tell, due predominantly, I like to think, to the fact that I
a) was 5 years old
b) have not ever been retold this story
c) have a brain like a sieve

This is the previous from a little while ago post. Right here. HERE.
[Just briefly on this link. First, how hilarious is it that I'm referring you to one of my pages? How egotistical can you get?! This egotistical. Second, just in skimming through posts to find this one, I noticed about 5 typos. I'm going to start proofreading these. I do believe in faries fairies. I do. I do.]

This is such a pathetic ending to a blog post that isn't even a legitimate blog post, because it's just adding something to a previous post BUT here goes.

Now, those among you who know me, or read this, or have seen other things of mine on the internet (which I'm not going to mention specifically, because people from work have started reading this, and I really don't feel like exposing THAT part of my on-line persona to them), will probably have picked up that I'm not what one would describe as cool, socially adjusted, popular, or any of those thingums.
Well, I may not be now, and I may not have been for 99.87% of my life, but that first day of school? That day I told you about?
Yeah. I came home on my first day with a birthday invitation. Hell yeah, bitches. I mean, it's beside the point that Brooke's mum knew there'd be a new girl starting that day and just made the gesture to be nice (it was) when no one knew anything about me. It still counts!
And apparently my brother was really upset*, because he didn't get invited to many parties, and I got an invitation on my first day.
Don't worry. Since then my coolness levels have rapidly (and I mean rapidly) decreased. To nil. Verging on negative.


This is the end of the bloggy. The struckout bits are typos that I correctly. I left them for laffs.

*Have I ever told you about the time my brother was upset when I was born? I was born a girl, and he didn't want a girl, he wanted a George. Not a boy. He wanted a George. I've been a constant disappointment since. But he did get this cool toy, which he called George. And still has. In his room. I'm just saying.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Teh birfdaii.*

Following is a list of gifts I received for my birthday (on the word 'received': did you know that apparently in London, teachers have been told not to teach students the 'i' before 'e' except after 'c' rule because there are too many exceptions? Madness!) and a brief (theoretically) paragraph about them.

A Quidditch broom:
If I see you frequently (or you work with me), you'll be completely aware of the fact that I play Quidditch. However, for the uniformed (I know you read this, Ms Sibbett) I play Quidditch. As a part of my Harry Potter Club. And it is fun and good and awesome exercise and stuff. I honestly haven't been able to play much, simply due to the hours that I work and the times of training, but upon my return from overseas and the commencement of my tertiary education, I will be able to play. So, for my birthday, my mum got me a broom. It's beautiful and lovely and the balance is brilliant, but it does need a bit of a trim. Broom servicing kit, anyone?
Also, I am cool. I promise. I'm really fun and awesome and not at all lame. Very much.

An Edward Cullen Make-up set thing:
JOKE PRESENT. I swear. I think?
I got a call while I was at work from my mum and it went pretty much like this:
Mum: So, Team Edward or Team Jacob?
Me: Um ... why?
Mum: Just which one?
Me: Am I allowed to choose neither?
Mum: No! You have to pick.
Me: Then ... I dunno. I guess Edward? But why??
Mum: No reason!
Me: Tell me!
Me: ... OK.
[hang up]
Macro (from work, the eavesdropper): So ... what was that about?
And then I proceeded to awkwardly and embarrassedly tell the story.
Much like now.
The sad thing? The make up's actually not that bad...

A laptop:
Ben and I talked about getting my a laptop for before I went away and we were MEANT to halve it. So the day before my birthday, I sent him a message saying hey let's go laptop shopping, and he was all like 'Not twice in one day!' and I was like 'wahhh?' and he was like 'yeah' and then I got a laptop.

A Jack's Mannequin CD:
From my brothaaa. I have a whole bunch of Jack's Mannequin music, but, much like many of the bands I like, I don't actually own any albums. And I love owning albums. So this was the legitimate present that came after the Edward Cullen make up (though I think we all know I liked Edward Cullen's sexy body the make up more than the CD.) (Also, BAD Adrienne. Edward Cullen is sexy jokes, while theoretically funny because they're true, in actuality, just make people awkward and uncomfortable.)

A Harry Potter Lego Board Game: -- but I nearly wrote Happy Potter, which would also be true because it does make me a Happy. Also a Potter. --
THIS is a fantastic present. Harry Potter, Lego AND board game! Where can you go wrong?! Well, I'll tell you, the board game is where you can go wrong. The board game is where you can go reeeeeaaaaaalllly wrong. It's confusing and weird and odd and a lot of other things, BUT both times I've played, I won, so I'm not complaining too much. :D

Not really any stories. It's just pretty sweet.

A poem (accompanied by some earrings and a kinder chocolate, but the poem was my favourite):
(One of ) My greatest, bestiest, loveliest friend(s) [SIDE NOTE: I tried writing friends twice before getting it right, and the two times before that I wrote friday. Just saying.] in the whole world and I used to do this thin when we weren't paying attention in classes where one of us would pick a title, and the other would have to write a poem from that title. We can up with some gems, let me tell you.
Such as this one:

Big Down South

Everything's bigger down south,
down south
Too big to fit in my mouth,
my mouth.

I'll let you take of that what you will.
But from then on, everytime we give a bithday gift or a Christmas gift, we include with it a poem, and Alyce's poem was lovely and I love her. Also, hello. :)

I know there were other gifts, but I forget.
If you'd like to get me a gift in order to be mentioned on my blog, feel free. I guess I can write something about you.

*Legit. That's how I speak now.

Monday, 16 May 2011

A developing theory

I'm of the opinion that everyone should have a theory that they have developed, and in which they firmly believe. I think this can relate to pretty much any aspect of life, the universe and everything, but I think it should be something intelligently constructed and well-presented, so that it can be rationalised, even if others don't necessarily agree with it.

For me, a theory that I've recently started considering is related to relationships. You're worried now, aren't you? This is srs bsnss.

I was watching the Graham Norton Show the other day (don't judge; David Tennant was on it), and one of the guests (not DT) was a comedian who had written a book about relationships, and why you shouldn't be in one. In his words (sort of) "Every relationship is going to end, and the more you love the person now, the worse it's going to be when it does."
I'm sure he put it more eloquently than that, but you get the idea.
That was his theory. Bit dreary, I know.
Mine has to do with relationships, but I think is a bit more positive.

It's important, in a relationship (I am talking here predominantly about romantic relationships, but I think this can apply to some extent to close friendships and such), to have things that you and the other in person involved disagree on. (Also, this isn't my theory. Yet.) Intelligent, and even unintelligent, discussion about differing opinions is important; it opens your mind to new perspectives and new ideas, which you may not agree with, but are nonetheless broadening your figurative horizons. Who knows, you may even learn something. Wouldn't that be terrible? That was a sarcastic AND rhetorical question. Two layers of Please Don't Answer Or You'll Look Like A Fool.

I also think it's important to agree with your partner on some issues, and HERE (finally) is where my theory comes into practice.

I am here to suggest that in order for a relationship to function successfully, both parties must have the same preference be on the same side of the never-ending battle of pirates vs. ninjas.
Mind blown, amirite?

I think that not only does this preference give insight into one's character, but it also is a heated debate, dating back thousands of years.
There was actually and 11th Commandment given to Moses, stating that:
Ye Shall Only be Wed to One with Whom Ye Share the Same Values of Character, Manifested Through the Shared Inclination t'ward Either yon Dastardly Pirate or yon Stealthy Ninja.
In fact, earlier than that, there has been evidence of this eternal debate, with cave drawings found dating back to the time of Neanderthals, depicting clans separated by preference.

Thus it can be seen from this undeniable evidence that in order to remain peaceable with a close partner, you must share the same ideas of which is better: the pirate or the ninja.
Because really, how do you plan on raising your children?
What do you say when your 4 year old says
"Daddy, Mummy says pirates are the best and I think they are too"?
[I'd like to take a moment to say that I have, right now, the opportunity to make a very sexist joke, and I'M NOT TAKING IT. Because I'm responsible.]
I don't know about you, but I don't want to have to explain to your child that their mother is clearly an idiot, for believing something so ridiculously idiotic.

Also, you both have to like dinosaurs.
Don't ever date someone who doesn't like dinosaurs.
Dinosaurs are badass.

Oh, and ninjas. Always ninjas.

...Perhaps I got a bit carried away.

Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Some thingy things.

You know what's a bad thing?
Blogging when you're tired.

You know what's a badder thing?
Failing to post on the FINAL day of BEDA.

You know what's a baddest thing?
Saying you're going to post on Monday the 1st of May, and then completely and utterly failing to do so, thus disappointing your fervently adoring fans.

You know what's a stupid thing?
Laddergoat. I know you're giggling right now, specific person.

You know what's a trivial thing to me personally and has no bearing on my life?
The Royal Wedding. But she still looked pretty.

You know what's an odd thing?
Osama bin Laden being dead.

You know what was a hilarious thing?
When the well-known and respected channel 7 international correspondent Mike Amor said "Osama bin Laden" instead of "Barrack Obama". Classic.

You know what's a sad thing?
The fact that I leave in only just over a month.

You know what's a nice but slightly overrated thing?
By birthday being on Sunday.

You know what's a crap thing?
My birthday being on Mother's Day.

You know what's an AMAZING thing?!
Sleep. Goodnizzle, ladybumpers.

Day 30 - Your favourite song at this time last year:
Yeahh, it was probably the same as my still favourite?
Sic Transit Gloria ... Glory Fades by Brand New.

I though it would end well.
It didn't.

Friday, 29 April 2011

This is the title of the poorly written blog.

End of the month blogging is hard. Seriously, guys. You've completely exhausted my creativity. I would tell you another amusing anecdote, but I haven't one and I've already done that.
I've done a few list-y type posts so I can't really do that again.
I've done my fair share of rants [seriously, those freaking food-related idioms. jerks, the lot of them].

I shall tell you an Adrienne Childhood Story, because the song is asking about childhood things and stuff and things so yeah.

Just after my 6th birthday, I moved to Canberra, from the much fairer (PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T BEEN THERE SHOULD GO THERE. with me.) Melbourne, Awesome Capital of the World.
I'd known that we were moving for a few terrible months, during which I found not only that, but also that my ahhhhmazing cat Bruce had to be put down.
I really didn't want to move. I was moving away from family, from Courtney, from Cassandra and from some other things, I'm sure, just maybe I can't think of them right now, ok? Is that alright? Good.

So I got here, after eventually realising that my screaming and crying wasn't going to stop anyone (though that certainly didn't stop me from trying), and was most devastated about the fact that I had to go back to Kindergarten. For the uninformed, in Melbourne, Kindergarten is what you do before school; the Canberra equivalent of pre-school, while in Melbourne, Prep is what is here referred to as Kindergarten.
I was totes devo that I had to, in my young mind, go back a grade (even though I didn't really) and I didn't want to go to this stupid new school where I knew no-one, because in case you don't know me, I'm shades of socially awkward you've never even seen before.
So it was my first day in this new, undoubtedly terrible and evil educational institution, Campbell Primary School, and I was crying. I was doing the stereotypical thing and clinging fiercely to my mum's leg while sobbing and whining and complaining and bargaining and everything ever. EVER.
So then, I finally walk (see: got dragged) into my new Kindergarten classroom with Mrs Butler as my teacher and a group of confident 'we're halfway through the year here, and we already know everything about this darn school and you are just a silly, crying new kid' children.
I couldn't even look at them.
At least, I couldn't right up until the point when Mrs Butler asked
"Now, who would like to look after Adrienne for the day?" (I'm not going to lie, she probably didn't say exactly that. Cut me some slack, it was a large, large number of years ago and I was crying and my ears were full of Mum's jeans because my face was buried into her calf.)
At this, I looked up, and got to see nearly every person in the room put up their hand. Well, that's how I remember it anyway. So we'll roll with that.
It was so cool. I was this pathetic new kid who couldn't stop crying and begging her Mum to please please, not make her go, and couldn't they come back and try again another day, and all these kids wanted to chillax with the Age-meister. Yeah, bro.

The conclusion and underlying theme of this story is that while it took me a long, long while after that to actually learn to love Canberra for it's many, many flaws, this was the first step. Its first redeeming feature was a classroom of kids thinking it'd be pretty swell to be my friend.

I am aware I could be reading too much into their enthusiasm but I DON'T CARE. I'm live life on the edge.

Also, the underlying theme here is that if I sit down with nothing to write, eventually some shitty story will present itself, and that's what you'll have to suffer through.

The end.

P.S. probs no blog tomorrow, as I am awayyyyy, so maybe I'll just have to write an epic one for the 1st of May.

Peace out, homebodies.

Day 29 - A song from your childhood:
Ballroom Blitz by The Sweet

Suspended like spirits over speeding cars.

I want to stop feeling so completely lost all of the time.

I know this isn't the hilarious bounty of wit and sophistication you've come to expect from me, but I keep feeling things, and I'm one of those Never Ever Tell Anyone My Feelings Unless It's In A Huge Awkward Fight Where Months Of Pent-Up Emotion Come Pouring Out, and when I feel things, I like to find sentences to express them. And since I can't say them out loud to someone, I right them here. Deal with it? Yeah, k good.

Damn it, how will I ever get out of this labyrinth?

Day 28 - A song that makes you feel guilty:
Like a G6 by Far East Movement

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

I wish I had more music that made me feel things like Eddplant's music makes me feel things.
Late at night and in good company,
we talked of idleness and injury.
Problems and feelings shared,
now more than halved.
The stereo two rooms away repeated song we'd hear again,
and every song became a song about love
You were hesitant and I was naive.
Well, I was adamant and you had to concede. 
We were close,
but not as close as we might have come to be.

One thing led to another as the song always goes,
and we lay there in bed down to the last of our clothes.
And by the way, I tried to say 'I love you".

I held you close and gave you sympathy;
such little thanks for all you did for me.
But mine's a caring heart and yours was broken. 

And by the way, I tried to say 'I love you" 
but the words got jumbled up and I just kissed you again
and it was over before it started
and we parted.

12 wishes on 12 people:
I wish I could tell you all the things that I can't.
I wish you knew how much I wanted to be your friend. Just your friend for ever and ever.
I wish you knew how left behind you make me feel.
I wish you I knew I could trust you with my whole life.
I wish I knew you'd never be gone.
I wish you would stop making me feel so stupid and awkward all the time, and that you could make me feel as valued as I value you.
I wish you felt the same connection I did do.
I wish you didn't pretend to love her.
I wish you would stop underestimating how incredible you are.
I wish you had more faith in me. Just me.
I wish you would leave forever, but your family could stay.
I wish that you were the person you pretend.

But don't climb up too high 'cause I like you fallen.

I need a Hufflepuff to FIND the answer!

So. Question.

The following is a map of the world colour-coded by the side of the road the people in it drive on.

Blue is left-hand traffic
Red is right-hand traffic

While I was Skyping with Rita (hello, Rita!) she mentioned the fact that she went to Belgium and Holland, and they drove on the wrong side of the road, by which she meant the right side of the road.
My question, which Wikipedia just unsuccessfully attempted to answer for me, is what happens at the border where you have to change sides.

Wikipedia just treated me like an idiot, saying "What the hell are you talking about? You just, like, swap over you freaking fool." ... Though in retrospect, I may have paraphrased it slightly ... But that's okay!
Sooooo, basically all Wikipedia could tell me was that at the border of relevant countries, the cars just swapped.

Surely you can't just swerve into the other lane and retain some semblance of responsible, safe driving! Is there a stop-over point? Transition point? I don't even know!
This was just something that was puzzling me so I though that considering there are people who read this from overseas, and considering that I found it hilariously perplexing, I'd ask y'all.
I'm trying to picture what a whole bunch of cars just changing side would look like. And what if you just missed the sign and kept driving on what had just become the wrong side of the road? How flipping scary would it be when I saw other cars on the same side of the road as you, hurtling towards you?!

And the other facet of this mysterious equation is: what side of the car does the wheel go on?!
I know it's not unheard of to have a right-hand driving car in a left-hand driving country like Australia, but surely it would be something that's weirdly common in the countries with borders on countries that drive on a different side?

Anway. That was just a thing that I was thinking and I wanted to share it with you because that's what this is and if you don't like it then talk to Alyce because she smiles and when I mention camels she giggles and gets a tiny bit breathless which just makes me love her and love her because she knows me and if you don't like it then you can talk to Alyce because -- what?


Day 27 - A song that you wish you could play:
Granger Danger by Starkid

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

dusk --

i wish the whole day was made of moments of dusk
my breath is clear and the air is a million million colours,
darkening by the moment
the short seconds minutes hours between the glare of day
and the cover of night
where everything is crisp and clear and wonderful
dusk connects us.
the day is rain somewhere and shine elsewhere
but dusk feels the same everywhere, all the places
refreshing air biting your skin
thoughts coming clearly to your brain
the promise of the night and the day
i wish my whole life was made of moments of dusk

Day 26 - A song that you can play on an instrument:
Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple :P
Also, Semi-Charmed life by Third Eye Blind
On drums and guitar not respectively.

I am an old person.

You know who suck? Kids these days.

I mean, seriously.
Did you know that Bananas in Pajamas, arguably the greatest show with men dressed up as bananas that is directed at children to have ever been created, is now in CGI?

I was thinking about it, and I really cannot think of any rational reason for this to have become the case. It's not like they were expending a lot of money on the set because, let's be honest, it didn't really change much at all ever.
And the ... well, I guess we can call them actors? The 'actors' (The Costumed Ones) would cost just as much to pay as the computers nerdy people (CGI yodels by which I mean men, by which I mean most likey men but also possibly women) and you'd need more people because you'd also need the voice actors AND the computer nerds.

Also, where's the fun in CGI bananas and pajamas? You don't get the amazing feeling of this whole pajama-ed banana world where anything is possible.

You know what did annoy me about that show though? How rarely the Bananas chased the Teddies. I mean, it was Tuesday a WHOLE LOT more than the number of times they showed an episode where the Teddies were being chased. Serious letdown.

But I have noticed that overall, kids TV shows from when I was younger are a lot better. TV shows these days seem to baby kids too much. And they're all terrible. I know that I had some TV shows that were so good, my mum would like watching them. But maybe that says more about my mum than it does about the TV shows ...

I think it can be summed up by something Eddplant said:
When I was 11, movies for 11 year olds were about 11 year olds. Now, they're about 17 year olds.

Too true, too true.

Day 25 - A song that makes you laugh
'Pokemon, What Happened To You?' What Happened to You by Alex Day and Tom Milsom

Sunday, 24 April 2011

Obligatory post, FYI.

Yesterday, I saw two camels.
Let's just say that there were two camels and three humps, if you get my drift.
I wanted to say 'If you get my fish' but I don't really want that to be the inpression with which you leave.

I want a house. Can someone buy me a house?

This is why I hate BEDA. Because I end up with absolutely nothing to say and so I write something crappy and forced to meet my self-imposed quota which no-one but me actually cares about. And then I write something I'm dissatisfied with, which sucks but whatevs, brah. I'mma rock it like ... a rockstar. Yeah, you can use that expression. I know it's pretty badass.

Anyway, with nothing else to fill this void of the internet with, I'm going to do an Alan Lastufka-esque 'Today I --" blog, with things I achieved today.

Today I  --
found a new TV show that I like, after deciding that the second episode was just as good as the first, and I like it, despite the fact that the central character is a dick.
resisted the, not going to lie, not particularly overwhelming urge to eat chocolate.
made some of my best friends amazing hot chocolates, which is something that I find really fulfilling in a way I can't truly explain*.
caught up on my YouTube videos, finally finally.

Oh yes, that just made me realise what a waste today was. But I did write two blog posts. I am a professional and social success.

I wish I had stories to tell you. I would tell you the world if I could.

Day 24 - A song that you want to play at your funeral
Play Crack the Sky by Brand New?
I don't know! This is morbid and a topic about which I've never thought

A goodbye just as soon as I said hello.

*I was going to attempt to explain this to you, but then after writing an emo-sounding, awkwardly-phrased 200 word paragraph, I gave up. And now this asterisk really serves no porpoise or purpose, but I can say hello.

The Rules/z (The 'z' is optional. I'm accommodating, see?)

SOMEONE suggested this, and since I am kind and loving blog master, I am working to the wishes of the people by setting out the very strict and very srs rules. Rulez. Roolz.

 Srs bsnss.

1. Thou shalt laugh/chuckle/be amused at least once per blog.

2. If you (dropping all pretense of using archaic English) like it, you must tell me. It's the law. The law of the internet. Also of the world.

3. For BEDA, the 'day' is classified not as the period of time from midnight at the start of a day, until midnight at the end, but rather from when I wake up until when I go to sleep. Which means that posts that come at 1am count for the preceding day. Deal with it and don't send me prompting text messages (JERK)

4. You must have an appreciation for enjoyably bad things. This is possibly a less-than-legitimate rule, but I'm watching He's Just Not That Into You and that's what it made me think about.

5. You mustn't judge on my overuse of pink in the layout. Pink is how the cool kids kick it.

6. You must dance during all blog entries. For at least a second. Are you getting the impression that I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel because that's sure what I'm getting out of this.

7. The seventh rule of Blog Club is that you don't not talk about Blog Club. Double negative win. Also, I apologise for the 'Blog Club' thing, but rule writing is hard!

8. You must find interrobangs amusing, if inpractical and expressively confusing. -- Wait, what? You- You don't know what an interrobang is?


Andbutso, yeah.
9. You may only bring up embarrassing things you learn off here once per day. So, if I were to tell you about the time (... times ...) I went to Academy, you couldn't mention that more than once a day, 'cause dude, that is srsly humiliating.

10. You must not tease me for my
a) obsessive compulsions (power points, even numbers, rah rah rah)
b) fangirlisms
c) coolness factor of - 4
d) inability to party


Day 23 - A song you want to play at your wedding:
Stolen by Dashboard Confessional :)

Yes, I am aware this is yesterday's one, but I am posting twice today, because it was commanded of me. And I live to serve.

Saturday, 23 April 2011

You know what's a brillers movie?

A Philadelphia Story.
Classic movies are severly underrated.
Seriously, script-writing like that does just not happen anymore.
Someone write a movie like that. And then make it. And then say "this movie was made for the venerable and quite nice Adrienne May, of internet fame and fortune, who has impeccable taste and killer hair as well as a propensity for hilarity"
That's the kind of dedication I want.
If you're going to bother making a movie for me, at least give me something epic like that.
Anyway. Examples:
"Doggone it, C.K. Dexter Haven. Either I'm gonna sock you or you're gonna sock me." "Shall we toss a coin?"

"I'm testing the air. I like it but it doesn't like me."

"The time to make up your mind about people is never."

You know what else is a good movie?
The Princess Bride.
Another excellently scripted movie. 
His name is Inigo Montoya. You killed his father. Prepare to die.
"We are men of action. Lies do not become us."
AHHHH. So good.

Also Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging. 
90% because of Tommy Bastow. Oh, Tommy Bastow.

Have you ever noticed how many good things there are? Like, just in the world?
There's movies and music and food (especially toast! toast is amazing. anyone who doesn't like toast is just ...silly. but probably still pretty cool.) and friends and laughter and getting lost and hugs and cute texts and missing people but seeing them again and family and interwebz and pets and grass and sun and nice.

I don't know why my blog just turned into a Be Positive campaign but I'mma roll wit' it.

Until right now. When I'mma stop. And go to sleep.
Like the epic gangsta I are.
Peace out, homeboiis.
(I'm perplexed by people who speak in such a manner. I also find my tendency to change writing style dramatically within such a short (fewer than 500 words) post quite amusing. What a freaking master.)

Day 22 – A song that you listen to when you’re sad:
Sum Me Up by BriBry :)

A beautiful blend of bittersweet lyrics and hilarious awkwardness:
I don't want a girl with problems, even though we'd be a perfect match
I don't like bending down to kiss but when would I find someone taller than me. And if I did then I'd run to this hills, 'cause she'd look fucking scary.

Friday, 22 April 2011

So, I know what you're thinking.
"Adrienne works so late and complains about her job and wah wah wah, what a fool. Why doesn't she just get a new job? She could earn more at Baker's Delight (true) but noooo, she's staying and Southern Cross Ten."

Well, my young oddlings, I shall explain to you some things.

YES, I do work stupidly long hours. 
For example, this week I worked 12 or more hours every day, because we had 9 days of work to do in 4 days, because of the stupid Easter/Anzac Day long weekend. Most Fridays are at least as long as this, especially now that the AFL season has started, and Thursdays are pretty bad. In fact, I don't think I can remember the last time I was out of work on time (5.45).
So yeah, my hours suck.

And YES, I am so severly underpaid that it makes perks such as the examples to follow seem amazing and awesome. And once you read the perks, you may have an understanding of how underpaid I am, in order for those to be considered 'perks'.

And YES, it is in an incredibly awful location, to which there's only one bus service, and it doesn't always stop, and only comes every half hour up until 6.30, when it starts coming every hour, and it's next to this crazy dodgy motel/caravan park where we can sometimes see people getting it on, and it's very very very far away from not just both of my houses, but from everything in the whole world (except Bella's house).

And YES, there's no way to predict what time I'm going to finish, unless it gets to the point of being so late that they literally have to kick us out, because there's apparently some law that means if you finish one day of work and start the next at the same place within ten hours of each other, then you get paid double, so they actually had to kick us out at 10 in order to avoid that happening, and the lack of predictability means that when I need to get picked up, it's a case of 'Leave NOW!" and I end up waiting around for them to arrive for half an hour, or "Leave NOW!" and they end up waiting around for me to finish for half an hour.

The following is a list of the free stuff I've gotten while working there:
An Australian Idol hat
A mousepad which I use as a coaster/space-taker-upper-er.
Chips, drinks (alcoholic and non-alcoholic), lollies hot cross buns, Easter eggs, other varied foods
A Ke$ha CD (which I may or may not have then listened to on my computer while working. twice.)
A Southern Cross Media t-shirt
Warehouse tickets (legit perk)
NRL tickets
Some wicked cool friends :)
Access to a juke box and an awesome canteen (canteen = completely necessary, considering we're a 5 minutes drive to the nearest food-giving place)

So yeah ...
A convincing argument?

I gotta say, the wicked cool friends really are wicked cool, and I am intensely glad to know them. Even if they quit. And left the place quiet and lame.
Also, that Australian Idol hat is pretty much the most stylish and fashion savvy item of clothing in the whole entire world. So you should probably be jealous. Just sayin'.

[I kind of figured that since I complain about my job so much, and since it's responsible for ruining my social/sleeping/coolness/blogging life, I should explain a bit about it to you. If you're wondering what I actually do, I make sure that there's no sections of 'dead air' (you gotta get with the lingo!) by putting in times things start and crap, and also I put ads on. Jealous, right?]

Day 21 – A song that you listen to when you’re happy:
Holding On by Alex Day, or as he likes ot be known, Daleks.

Thursday, 21 April 2011



If you were cool, you'd get it.

Who's excited for my birthday? What presents are you getting me? 8th of May, kiddies, write it down in your diaries.
I waaaaaaaant:
some CDs
some DVDs
some TV shows (on DVD)
some money
some clothes
some cool random things (looking at you for this, Alyceman)
some art
some books
some online stuff because I am lame
some pajamas - side note: it's wear pajamas to work day tomorrow. I know, it's pretty intense. ahh, the perks of working in the media. (lol jokes, don't do it)
a hugs
some more hugs
a surprise party
too see my lovely friends.
the following day off work (also every day off work)
the ability to stay focussed on a task without getting distracted by stupid things you want for your birthday like a pony. I DON'T EVEN LIKE PONIES
the ability to write intelligently even when super tired

Day 20 - A song that you listen to when you're angry:
Romance is Dead by Parkway Drive

Wednesday, 20 April 2011

An apology and a brief, but hopefully amusing anecdote

So the awkward combination of power failure, ridiculously long working hours, and staying at my beautiful friend's house have resulted in me failing. At life, but more specifically, at Blog Every Day in April. What a loserface.
I can only say that I am sorry, and trust me, I'm more disappointed than you. Though that might be because I'm the only one that actually cares about this, and you all just read it to find out embarrassing things about me. Don't worry. I know that's why you're here. But since the topic of me playing Quidditch has come up literally every day at work since people there found out *, I have learned to live with embarrassment. But despite whatever reasons you might be here, I am back, and with the more sincere of apologies.
Here you go 
*hands you apology*


Here follows what I like to think of as an amusing, if slightly awkward anecdote. If you're related to me, expect this to be especially awkward.

So I was down in Melbourne a couple of months ago (Melbourne is awesome and anyone who hasn't been there is SILLY :-P) and I was chilling with my good friend Courtney. We had a bit of a night out, went to Crown, did Crown-y things. Got lost. Watched this Asian guy put a towel over his baby's face. Y'know. The usual.
Anyway, we were on the train back to Courtney's car, and on the train they have a short newspaper-y sort of thing that you can read in case you don't want to listen to the drunken slurs of the 25-but-acting-like-we're-just-18 year old guys behind you.
Included in this are normal cheap newspapery things, like funny articles, jokes and most importantly in this story, horoscopes.
Now, I'm not one to pay attention to horoscopes, but I always find them an amusing read (it's amazing that their generalised statements can sometimes actually apply to my real life! It must be true!), and while all the other horoscopes were relatively normal something-will-happen-in-your-life-today (it's Hyphen-City, here today!), the following is the sum total of my horoscope:

Sensuality is highlighted, as the Moon and Venus make beautiful music together in your lust zone.

Yup. I don't feel I need to add any more. Just sit back and appreciate that slice of fortune-telling brilliance.

Day 17 – A song that you hear often on the radio:
Big Jet Plane by Angus and Julia Stone

Day 18 – A song that you wish you heard on the radio:
The Heretic's Song by Tom Milsom

Day 19 – A song from your favorite album:
Okay, I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don't by Brand New (off Deja Entendu)

*I was actually out in Bar 32 in Civic on Saturday night, and while my friends all ditched me to go to the bathroom, I went and stood (I'd say danced but that would require me to be able to dance, and dancing is not a skill I have, unless you mean dancing poorly) with a girl from work who we just happened to bump into. I'll add at this point that I've talked to this girl (lady? woman? lass?) a grand total of about 4 times, all of them related to work, and then she proceeded to introduce me to the people she was with a "This is Adrienne. She plays Quidditch." 
In a club. On a Saturday.
Yeah, one of my proudest moments.

Saturday, 16 April 2011


This is my good friend El Bandito.
Do not mess with him. His ferociousness cannot be bound even by the walls of this blog.

Day 16 – A song that you used to love but now hate:
Soda Pop by Briteny Spears?

Yes, I like Harry Potter. Was that not mentioned?

As you may or may not know (every single person at work does, but some of the rest of you mightn't), I am a member of the ANU Harry Potter Club. Among other things, one of our activities is a Fangasm Exchange, where you write down three criteria you want, put everyone's in a hat, draw one out and then you have to create something for someone else, involving the three criteria.
The three criteria I have to create something from are
- Harry
- Vernon Dursley or Sirius or Arthur Weasley, and
- the Puberty Talk

I picked Arthur, but I chose to tell the story from Molly Weasley's point of view. This is the beginning of it:

Molly Weasley is a big believer in the idea that you can’t get a man to do a woman’s job, and in most cases, she’s got the woman’s job covered. The following is a time when, try as she might, she just wasn’t fit for the job.

Another long, sweet summer, seeming all the brighter for the threats that now lay in the past. The dark, figurative cloud over the lives of wizards and Muggles alike has figuratively drifted away, and even the rainiest, stormiest day can’t darken the spirits of most people. Every day seemed like a blessing; except for today, in the life of one unfortunate nearly-man. Not that he knew it yet.

From across the breakfast table, Molly observed the way he looked at her daughter, and began happily entertaining thoughts about him one day becoming her son. This kept her occupied until he looked up at her expectantly.

“Mrs Weasley?” said Harry. Molly started, realising she’d been staring blankly, smiling like a fool and holding a piece of toast halfway to her mouth for a number of minutes.

“Sorry, yes, dear?”

“I was just wondering if you could pass the butter. Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, of course,” she flustered. “There you go. Would you like anything else?”

“No, thanks, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said, as he turned back to Ginny. “I’ve got all I need right here…”
As the young couple shared a secret look, Molly blushed, embarrassed by the tone of his voice and the implication beneath it. At the same time, she remembered the previous night, where she’d woken to the creaking of the stairs, almost as if someone had been walking from Ron’s room down to Ginny’s. As she looked at Harry and Ginny, giggling and whispering to each other, a terrible realisation began to dawn on her. Throughout breakfast, Arthur had been sitting contentedly, amicably interrupting the conversations of the others, not paying attention to the lovesick teens, and not realising what had been happening in Molly’s very own house just the previous night. She seemed to be the only one who even noticed, and the more Molly thought about it (though she tried not to think about it too much), the more she came to the conclusion that something had to be done. And this may be a case where she wasn’t the woman for the job.

Day 15 – A song that describes you:
This is Me by Charlie McDonnell
I wouldn't say this describes me, but many of the things in the song apply to me.
None of that song is about me, but some of it might apply.