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Tuesday: around 10.45
I reluctantly get off msn to my mother yelling at me for not doing enough work – starting work but not finishing – not giving her my washing which was subsequently followed by “well don’t fucking wash them I’ll wear a dirty shirt like I care” “yes because that’s what we do Sarah, wear dirty shirts… If you weren’t so focused on the internet and you concentrated more on work…” At which point she was on the track of her usual daily rant about me not putting enough time into school work and not being focused on what is important. Fortunately cut short, unfortunately by a huntsman spider on her wall. We live in a two story house and the 2nd story is generally warmer which I guess is the reason why there are always huntsman spiders on the level my parents and I live on. Problem 1 – my dad, although generally acceptable when it comes to getting rid of a spider (who cares how), is actually in
Kiribati at this moment (I think) and so he is unreachable. Also my brother (19) has begun to see the house as a kind of drop in point amongst his prime concerns, being; his girlfriend, work, his girlfriend, uni and his girlfriend – hence being unavailable as well (although he isn’t much use in terms of getting rid of spiders anyway – preferring the method of capture with a clear bucket so you are as far away as possible.) Then there is my mother – I really think she has arachnophobia (fear of spiders), I really do. The second I heard “oh SHIT” I didn’t even need to ask, I asked anyway, probably for my own amusement. She followed up with some short bursts of cursing Tim (my brother) and some crying. I’m not sure why though, I think she honestly thought I would be cruel enough to leave her standing in the hallway 8m away from the spider like it could jump and attach itself onto her neck. “Stop crying, why the heck do you need to get so worked up its only a spider” and yes I am all talk. Problem 2 – the spider, fucking genius, was crouched in its perfect little spot where its utopia, the curtain, was only cm’s away. I fucking hate spiders – tiny heads yet they’re smart enough to hide where their hardest to get rid of. Anyway so I had to make my mum stand 4m away (which was a stretch for her) then I had to pull the curtain back with my hand (my hand, honestly, my brother should be doing this stuff.) Armed with a rolled up newspaper, a shoe, and fly spray – Fully equipped coz this spider was hugeeeee… ok no… but it was an average size. The spider ran – I wasn’t really expecting that and I wasn’t close enough to it so I aimed and pegged the rolled up newspaper at it. My mum is the type of person who will stand very far away but still scream and shout like they were a rulers length away.. Luckily enough it was a perfect shot.. But it just made the spider fall onto the ground gracefully, a bit hurt, but well enough to run towards mums bed. With nothing to throw but what was on hand, I resorted to throwing the flyspray, which only smashed the can into bits and had foamy shit spraying all over her floor. Now this is about almost the only time I can get away with screaming fuck as loud as I can. So I clearly took advantage of this opportunity with a nice loud “FUCKKKK” – then the smarmy little spider decides to run up onto mums bed “it’s on your fucking bed mum” (oops she didn’t like that idea) – high pitched sounds, something along the lines of “get me a shoe” followed by mum running around trying to find me a shoe… then I flicked it onto the ground… it still tried to run. I lined up the (ugly) brown sandal and brought it down harder than I planned to with mum cheering “YES! Kill it!” – We are quite the murderers, my family. “My hero”… then I vacuumed the remnants of body left, and went to bed.
It only took me something like 5 minutes to kill the spider – but dead set when I was finished I was breathing harder than when I play soccer and I was shaking really fucking bad. I really fucking hate spiders. (ps you can say thanks for the pointless story… I really dont care.)
D.A.N.C.E
The Second Rape – Thanks to Mason/Surplusvalue - Lyrics by Aus Rotten
After reading this, over 8 times, I had to post it. I was going to bold the parts I found most important but I figure I’ll leave it for you to decide.
Every 45 seconds a woman is raped
Our sexist culture allows no escape
The is violent crime is far from obscurity
When the rate of victims is one in three
Society conditions men to be rapists
And our indifference perpetuates it
With derogatory language that tends to dehumanize
Making it easier for men to victimize
And the pornographic images that help portray
Women as legitimate sexual prey
When sexism is embedded in our judicial system
It’s no surprise why the courts won’t listen
And the role of attacker and survivor become distorted
So the majority of rapes are never reported
The threat of rape is always there
It’s like a poison that saturates the air
A society stricken by a cancerous disease
Where men know they can do as they please
You tell me the punishment for rape
You tell me how much jail time it will take
When one out of three women will be raped
You tell me what it’s going to fucking take
Do you see me in my low cut shirt
Or high heel shoes or a miniskirt
Woman is the victim you desire
You say you can’t resist your predatory fire
You tell me why I stand guilty and accused
You tell me when I’m beaten an abused
When it’s my body that’s been raped and defiled
You tell me why I’m the one on trial
Defense attorney?: Do you know the man who allegedly attacked you?
Victim?: Yes I know the man who raped me.
Defense attorney?: And isn’t this man a friend of yours?
Victim?: Well I thought he was a friend of mine.
Defense attorney?: And were you drinking that night he ‘allegedly attacked you?
Victim?: I had a drink or two but is that a crime?
Defense attorney?: I’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind!
-What were you wearing: How did you act?
Victim?: My wardrobe isn’t an invitation for a man to attack.
-I didn’t act in any way to bring this on. Why am I on trail? What did I do wrong?
Defense attorney?: Could you tell the jury why you let this happen?
Victim?: I was in shock. I couldn’t stop him.
Defense attorney?: You claim that you were raped but how do we know?
Victim?: I said no, I said no, no, no!
Defense attorney?: Isn’t it true you’re just a woman scorned?
Victim?: I’m a woman who’s been raped and torn.
Defense attorney?: Your honor, I demand that this case be dismissed,
-it all comes down to her word against his!
I may not have bruises all over my body
But when I went to his room I never would have guessed
That he would force my no to mean a yes
You tell me why I’m guilty of this crime
You tell me why the responsibility is mine
When women suffer a second rape during trial
Courts help rapists to violate and defile.
Rapists are pathetic – be it a boy who takes advantage of a girl right to a drunk husband attacking his wife. Be it a woman who spikes a mans drink. Anyone, and yet when it happens, it is the victim who should feel tortured even more? It is the victim who will be questioned.
According to Australian Crime Facts and Figures in 2003:
82% of sexually assaulted victims were female out of which the highest rate was from the ages 10-14
For males – Sexual assault was highest at the age of 10 and under
Out of this 78% of assaults were commited by someone the victim knew.
How does this happen? More importantly, how is this ignored?
I’ve had this book since I was 6.
The End
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five, I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.
Now we are Six (1927)
- A.A. Milne
Hypothetically, if you were a bald business man (of whom wears glasses and a retarded tie) – could you rename yourself “Dilbert”? Sadly, I probably could.
It is more than often that our achievements and efforts are cut down or thrown in our faces – and the last glimmer or hope is scratched out of our not-so-willing minds. Sure others can judge “so and so never takes anything seriously” or “so and so are so negative” but do they ever ask themselves.. am I the one doing over 3 hours of work almost every night?
How hard could it possibly be to say – “you did good” – Three words?
Yet we are constantly reminded of our downfalls, mistakes and flaws rather than achievements, qualities and perfections? Would it be more rewarding to compliment instead of snigger behind someones back? More positive to see a smile instead of a frown? And surely, more productive to teach instead of hinder?
It is a pathetic world we live in when the vision of hope is unreachable, whilst false hope is merely around the corner.
Blatant sarcasm… were it possible to literally drip with it, I probably could. It may be the lowest form of wit but to be honest – I really just don’t give a flying fuck.
Dear biology teacher,
Thankyou sooooo much for taking the time to write a letter filled with my inconsistencies. Also the section that noted it would be appropriate for my parents to discuss the matter with me was really appreciated – I have really turned over a new leaf based on what your wonderful and not sterile and non personal at all letter (or form.) Thankyou from the bottom of my heart; for saving my schooling career and marks due to your thoughtful form which was sent directly to my parents and also suggested I should be doing more (glorious) school work not only in school, but also out of school.
I do so hope that the appreciation of my improvement, if made, is placed solely on the form you took the time to fill in (a whole 20 or so lines.)
Further more, Thankyou to my mother. Whom felt it necessary to repeat the mark I received several times – somehow believing that after 16 years of life i simultaneously became not only blind, but also deaf. Another Thankyou for reminding me “had [my] father been reading this he would be furious” (thankyou for the emphasis on furious as well – although I am not brain dead or a moron.) I was aware of this point, however I fail to care as my father was not reading the form – nor was he in the same country at the time. Thankyou oh so freaking much for yet again making my life a pleasure to live, and continuously reminding me of the ample time consuming and life eating assignments I have to do.
Oh my, how I enjoy to be walked on.
For lack of anything better to write about – Heres a bit from the Hamish and Andy show (Radio) off a podcast – And yes, I have nothing better to do that type out a conversation that I find funny.
Andy: I’ve got a bit of a confession to make, I know we’re late in the game so I thought, best time to make it.
Hamish: Is it that heavy that this could be the end of the team? That you needed to do it at sort of 5 to 6?
Andy: You might want to sleep on it..
Hamish: Ok
Andy: I’ve become a regular user of emoticons in text messages
Hamish: *snores* I’ve slept on it, I hate you…. what do you mean?
Andy: Before you obviously get upset with me, please listen to me, It’s not as if I’m running through all the emoticons
Hamish: What do you mean, this is, you know the smiley faces made out of brackets and colons…
Andy: Yeah yeah, now look, I just wanted to say…
Hamish: There’s nothing you cansay mate, there’s no need to use them.
Andy: Hear me out.. It’s not as if I’m going through all of them… it’s not as if I think the guy with the sunglasses on is funny or…
Hamish: He’s not..
Andy: Or that the really happy one is necessary.. all I’m using is the smiley face..
Hamish: Don’t you dare tell me you’re doingthe colon and the capital P so it looks like its someone sticking their tounge out
Andy: No I’d never do that.
Hamish: You say that but a few months ago you were sitting there telling me you’d never use a smiley face..
Andy: I’d never do that mate..
Hamish: You start off with a smiley face Andy – and it moves to other things! Its a gateway emoticon to the sillier emoticons!
Andy: I know, I understand that, but I’ve been careful with my use of them ok?
Hamish: Thats what they all think!
Andy: I need it for tone.. the reason why I’m telling you this because if you’re trying to text someone… and it might sound like a rude question… for instance – How far away are you? – you know when you’re waiting for someone to pick you up…
Hamish: Kiss.
Andy: Noo! What if it’s a bloke?
Hamish: PS we’re still mates. I’m just saying you don’t need… you give me anything you’re using an emoticon for and I’ll tell you how you can say it with words…
Andy: How far away are you… smiley face. That says – hey I’m not pissed off at all.. hey not even worried about it but hey how far away are you? That’s the tone.
Hamish: No, you text them: How far away are you… mate?
Andy: No you’re still niggling..
Hamish: No you’re not.. how far away are you, I think you’re a great guy. Can’t you text that?
Andy: That’s a little bit forward I think, ”I think you’re a great guy”?
Hamish: Alright well read my emoticon here… Hey Andy, great to hear that you’re using emoticons… frowning face.
So having been subtly told to move in Biology – I moved a whole row forward with another group of girls. Having no opportunity to talk, wear reading glasses and ask if i look nerdy, pull ugly faces and giggle and laugh non stop – I resorted to listening. No, before you think you know how this ends, I did not find myself in love with Bio for the first time in years – nor did i actually learn something. Rather I became aware of this annoying, just plain want to stab their eyes out annoying, habit my teacher seemingly just cannot stop.
Alright.
That’s it. Alright – Every 0.5 seconds [and no I'm seriously not joking.] Alright? Alright! Alrighttt…
You get the idea? So in one lesson - I did a tally. Ok VS. Alright.
The results? In one 50 minute – estimated 30 (becuase I started after the lesson began), my teacher said Ok 38 times; and Alright an amazing (gold star effort) 86 times.
Now, this is where I draw the line… Why continuously ask if it’s “alright?” – Next time I swear to god I am going to grab my pencil and stab her eyes out – or the more likely just scribble some obscene notes in my book – then giggle to myself.
NO. It is NOT ok. And it is NOT alright. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. And my day couldn’t get any worse? Wrong again. My hair has been cut into some boy cut and my brother is now calling me “little bro.” So bite me if I don’t feel like playing anyones little games today, or tomorrow.
I’m sure everyone who actually reads this blog – or even scans the titles – would know what I think about exams. Bullshit springs to mind.
I studied my holidays away just to scrape in a good mark for maths (which I achieved – 78.5% which went up to 79%) – yet failed to study other lengthy subjects such as Biology (and Modern History which I haven’t gotten back yet) and ended up apparently only touching the surface of these subjects.
I got 26/69 for Bio – which I’m not exactly proud of – but I am pretty sure that I can’t go back in my brand new time machine and study a whole lot more and memorise homeostasis. Yet my teacher feels it necessary to go and ask all of my teachers how I am doing in my other subjects – Average she says (like i need reminding.)
All through today I just kept being reminded how “average” I have been going. I touched a few pages in English whilst my teacher was talking to the class in general – resulting in her leaping into an in depth attack of how I “could be better, not everyone… YOU… not the class… YOU could be better and RIGHT now… you are just extremely average”- Yes whilst I am not naturally smart the 48.5/65 that I added up is really quite ok with me but thanks for caring right?
In terms of Biology – I have been left to “think about it” – not the “its your decision” type of thinking – more like the “if you don’t do it I will” – and so I will be sitting by myself in yet another class (including maths where i was separated ENTIRELY from my friend who was moved into another class room.)
It wouldn’t be the first time that i have been separated – let alone got the “Sarah could I talk to you after class please.” The fact is – to me what my idea of an “average” mark means not the average of the entire class, but what I see as acceptable. – Since when did “average” equate to nothing? Correct me if I’m wrong – but average is what is usually aimed for – above average is what people hope for.
If teachers must get to picky there should be a whole set of averages – shitty average – you suck average – we think you are really a dumb ass but cant kick you out of the class average – ok average – at least you tried average – yeah it’s a good average… but that girl did better – just give up average – you’re getting there average – keep trying average [the list could be endless.]
Face it – if above average was so fucking easy to get – then it wouldn’t be above average would it?
Ok so instead of being at home doing something productive with my time (like watching DVDs) – I am at school in a study period. Which is pretty freaking annoying because I could be at home butmy mum couldn’t pick me up and apparently my brother has something better to do (probably buying another manly cardi gagggg.) The point is – I’m pissed off – and in the mood to ramble.
Today was the first day back in real classes after 2 weeks holidays, 3 weeks of exams (only 2 for me as mine were all together [fuckkkk]) and 3 days of retreat (which i didn’t like very much if you read my last post.)
It began with double biology – in which my eyes were almost burning out of my head trying to listen to some old ass man who used to be some kind of genius talk (Watson – discovering the structure of DNA) – however he seemed to be able to mumble and grin to the extent of a creepy pedophile – so I wasted time by taking some crappy notes. Then we got our exam marks back (I didn’t study for this exam very much – i sort of opened my book – wrote some notes – then stared at the paper) – evident in my marks (which my mother will probably murder me over… or just crush my spirits and leave the killing to my dad) I ended up with 26/69.
English – funny as always – with my teacher threatening to stab someone with her biro… I did pretty good in the sections we got back – but haven’t gotten all back yet – so that pisses me off… had all this time to mark yet some idiot locks her marked section in her office and is conveniently “sick.”
Then maths (the one subject i absolutely studied my ASS off for – meaning barely going out during my holidays and constant stress) – I stood at my friends [Mal, Jesi and Sheridan's] window talking until my teacher came and then she walked into their room to talk to their teacher. I go “DID I DO GOOOOOD???” and she said she didn’t know but she was grinning… turns out i got 78.5% which is probably the first maths mark over 50% I have received for a bit over a year. If my parents aren’t happy about that I will not hesitate to take a knife and… OR take up some kind of ancient Japanese fighting skills (not requiring body armour) and torture them like they have me with the stress and study.
Then Religion – which i got back [it weighed 0%] and couldn’t be bothered putting what little energy I had into working out what mark I had got – and I was le tired so I slept during a video on Islam (Which i have to write a report on tonight – ahhh shittt.)
Tomorrow I have Modern History – Another exam i probably screwed – having made most of the shit up on the spot and then watching some girl next to me tear off her 100 pages [not really - about 6 per essay] whilst i had only around 8 pages in front of me in total and the exam booklet. As well as DT which is fairly crappy because my mum is a DT teacher and I almost always (no I’m not self involved – its just true) get the highest mark – which is not all that great because then I get “oh it’s because her mumsssss a teacher and she does the work forrrr her” or ”what did SARAH get? Ohhh I beat you by half a mark!!!” (the second one hasn’t happened but im waiting for it.) Then if i fail (not average fail – mother fail – which means getting less than 60% is not good enough) I will have a nice lecture waiting for me at home.
Screwwwwwww school. Its 3.00 and I have wasted enough time – by the way – what the fuck is the deal with leaches??? Not literal leaches – the leach kind of person that sucks on to a person and then drains all the fun and life and then moves on to the next person – disgusting.
Rehab for catholics – “we’ll brainwash your kids for a fuck load of money”
Firstly, before I go into my usual bitter rant, I would like to point out that I am not disagreeing with the idea of “time away from it all” – What i disagree with is the idea of forceful enlightenment.
Sure, some people enjoy the idea of getting close to nature, speaking to people you have never spoken to before, becoming closer to teachers – The ideal of ultimate escape.
To me, retreat is about forcing people to open up – on a schedule. To get people up early and go to bed late – after mulitple “sessions” – Retreat makes those, who do not feel the need to join in with a bunch of over the top, screaming and dancing people, feel like dirt. Spiritual enlightenment? At which point will I find spiritual enlightenment? Whilst you crush the spirits, and shake your head in disapproval at those who don’t need to change to have a better sense of well being.
Where are the joys of retreat that were proimised to frequently? Where they the many sessions in which we prayed – I’m not even sure why, or the group tasks – which seemed to revolve around simplistic aims (do you assume we as females are incapable of analysing feelings or reflect without the use of drawing or painting?)
I hate the fact that on the last retreat of year 12 – of school – ever – I could not find anything to be serious about. There was nothing to analyse. No real issues. Nothing to “pray” for. I’m guessing the main reason you were unsuccessful in your attempts to somehow change my demeanour was due to the fact that I simply cant involve myself in that which has no real point. Yet I felt like a bad person – for sitting down while everyone was jumping around, dancing and smiling.
I got home – feeling nothing different – no sense of well being (that i was promised), no sense of being somehow useful, ultimately no sense of release – life just goes back to the continuous push for better marks at school.
The memories that I wont forget? The prayer? The tranquility? Highly doubted… Rather the way we pressed ourselves against the glass door of our room, screamed at the “friendly” possums, went psycho about walking into a spiderweb and ran down the walkway jumping and hitting each other, our “out of control” imitation 2 stepping and the best hand made fort – which was soon ruined.
Me and Jesi
The Fort and Mal
The fort being crushed by me and Emily… anddd then Emily crushing me – we pride ourselves on being over dramatic (the teachers had the room next to us… oh shame for them.)
Rehab is for quitters – I guess I don’t like to quit.
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