"I don't think that being a strong person is about ignoring your emotions and fighting your feelings. Putting on a brave face doesn't mean you're a brave person. That's why everybody in my life knows everything that I'm going through. I can't hide anything from them. People need to realise that being open isn't the same as being weak."

- Taylor Swift

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Taste of Your Own Medicine

The best cure for a broken soul is your own medicine. Wounds heal in time, scars fade and hearts heal.

The best part about that is that this theory also works the other way around!

I haven't met one soul that likes MW. Some can put up with him (and I must note that these are VERY Zen people), some dislike him (these are the very tolerant people), but most positively hate him. Me? I am a Professor in The Art of Hating MW, an area I pursue with passion.

MW is awful - he's the beanbag, jelly-fleshed dancer I was describing in Tralalala...dancing. He makes me cry, he makes most of the girls cry, he pisses all the boys of and even made BSC cry (once. I remember it, so don't deny it, BSC).

Every time we 'dob' on him or tell him off, we always end up getting into trouble.

Only today, hopefully, will be different.

We were only doing what MW does, only to a much smaller degree - but there were three of us (BSC, me and another guy). The other guy, who I will call 'T' because I don't feel like typing 'the other guy' all the time, was having so much fun that he managed to give MW a tiny little cut on his knee, which of course set him blubbing. T, not to be undone, also decided to get a little pen ink in the miniscule cut, which had MW tirading furiously about how infections can get caused by ink in the bloodstream. I sarcastically remarked, to keep MW going 'Don't worry, it'll only infect your brain' to which BSC said 'But seeing as you don't have one, it's moot point'

I don't really know what happened after that, but somehow MW ended up slamming T into the doorframe, to which T responded by throwing MW out the door. MW really started mimicking Niagra Falls then, the sight of his pathetic face all ateary was priceless.

I would say I felt sorry for him, but I don't. He deserves it. We've tried again and again to tell him to stop, but hopefully this taste of his own medicine will set him right.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

School Wars Episode VII: The Ex Strikes Back

I have a lot of guy friends.

BSC is my best guyfriend. We only met this year, but we get along really well. I mean, we have fights - big fights - but that's pretty much normal. He's absolutely HUGE with a bigger personality (and an even bigger ego) and a lot of fun. I give him girl advice and he's, well, not exactly a shoulder to cry on (his shoulder is a bit too high for me to reach) but he's always there for me. He's a gigantic teddy bear that has a constant stream of girlfriends/crushes, but he's not a know-it-all pompous punk. The only people that are taller than him is this Korean guy and our student teacher who is 6'7".

I have other guyfriends as well, but I won't list them all here.

Guys make really good friends. The plus side is that guys aren't bitchy - normal ones aren't, anyway - they're tough, they're understanding, and they can endure a lot of crap without cracking. On the down side, guys can be just a teensy bit insensitive, cannot take a hint for shit and have no sense of sublety.

My guyfriends are different to my girlfriends and even more different to boyfriends. Most of my guyfriends are past crushes and their friends, or my girlfriends' exes or boyfriends, so we're all pretty close. There's nothing romantic between me and my guyfriends, they're more like brothers than dates.

My best guyfriend is BSC - all of my friends are closest to their ex/es.

I, on the other hand, HATE my ex.

My ex is not exactly Hayden Christensen - short, fat, with a MAJOR case of dandruff and ecxma, a computer nerd and a math freak to boot. Now none of these things would really matter if he were really nice and sweet - which he is not.

My ex liked me back in year six, and I reckon he still likes me. I was young, silly, ignorant and desperate for a boyfriend, so I went out with him for like, a week. I mean, you had to feel sorry for the poor guy - I was known for being a little rude and obnoxious, brushing people off without a care sometimes - and it had taken him two weeks to pluck the courage. It wasn't really romantic - no roses or chocolates or valentines - just a 'wilyugoowtwifme' in the computer lab. After a week, I did the classic 'can we just be friends' on him and he seemed to take it pretty good - maybe he was expecting it.

At the beginning, he was an okay friend - it was a little awkward, understandably - but it was okay.

To be fair, I admit that I wasn't exactly the perfect girlfriend, or ex, for that matter - it was pretty much a slave and master relationship. But as I said, I was only eleven - and overconfident, proud and too smart for my own good - and he could have just told me that he didn't like it, if he didn't.

Then he started to get really horrible when year seven started. Now isn't the best time to piss me off - the hormones have kicked in and I am on a crazy emotional rollercoaster - and he was one of the main causes why I would cry, why I am still crying, all the time. It's an adolescent thing.

BSC and all of my girlfriends have been really great, but I always ask...

Is he reproachful that I have a life after our very short relationship?

Is he jealous that I have crushes and admirers after him? (I never had a crush on him, by the way. It was all pretty much one way)

Or does he just irrationally hate me?

Monday, October 27, 2008

My Friend

What if the only person you could talk to let you down?

What if the only person who makes you happy also makes you cry yourself to sleep, every night?

What if you are always there for him but he's not always there for you?

What if you get this sinking feeling that you cannot ignore or deny...

...That he's only with you...

...Because he wishes you were someone else?

Friday, October 24, 2008

Teachers. And MW. Drive. Me. Pokeynuts.


Teachers get on your nerves. Because we live in Australia, where more people are diagnosed with skin cancer than anywhere else in the world, we have this 'No Hat, No Play' rule at most government primary schools.

The idea is to promote the wearing of sunwear during the hot months.

The reality is it really just promotes hatred towards teachers. (and hats).

So teachers go around telling us off, giving us warning forms and the whole lot for going around without hats, and what do they do?

Go around without hats.

Teachers tell us off for talking during assembly every fortnight. They can rage and rant for hours, all the way until recess, which means I miss my violin class in the process.

And what do they do? Gossip away like chickens during EVERY SINGLE ASSEMBLY. I've seen them!

They tell me off for being rebellious, but really, these things GET ON MY NERVES, and I can't help being a bit of a renegade. It's just my persona, and what they do doesn't really help.

TEACHERS, and NO ONE ELSE IN THE WORLD, has the right to tell someone off for doing something when they do it too. That's like a judge saying to a criminal 'you really shouldn't have murdered him', then the judge goes out on a murder spree.

Can no-one see the irony in it?

Yesterday I was really pissed off at this guy, which we can only call MW for privacy reasons on the internet.

Now, what he said to me yesterday was no big deal.

But the fact that that and worse has been going on ever since he came and polluted our school with his presence just drove me over the line.

I had a bad day, yesterday. I had to spend all lunch and recess clearing out my tray, which is more accurately described as a museum or a garbage tip, it was hot, I had a headache, and it was a bad time of the month, if you get my gist. I was seriously pissed off, and I just cracked.

And what does the teacher do? Make it all a joke. The whole class ended up laughing, and I couldn't say anything.

Some teacher.

I get teased. A lot. Even the TEACHERS tease me.

There's this guy that sits next to me who always puts his elbow on my desk (in primary, we have to share one desk). It got to the point I was slapping and punching his elbow every six seconds, and what does the teacher say? That I LOVE him. Ew. He thinks it's so cool to go around with sunblock not smeared on properly on his cheeks. No wonder he hasn't got a girlfriend.

The orchestra conductor was telling me off for coming late for ensemble practice (as the concert master, you should be a bit more prompt, etc) and the music teacher comes in. What does she say? 'She's too busy dreaming about BSC'.



But back to MW. Why is he so annoying?

We have four new kids in my class this year: BSC, MW and two girls.

BSC is awesome. He's crazy, conceited, stuck-up, but loveable and charismatic to pieces and he's one of my closest friends, and one of the only guys that are really there for me. We're not going out or anything - that's gross, and anyways, he's too busy chasing other girls (namely BETHANY) - but we're friends and he treats me like a boy and I treat him like a girl.

One of the girls is really nice - she's pretty and smart and popular without being a bitch. We're not close close but we're friends, pretty much.

The other girl is an IDIOT. She rambles on and on about all the boys who liked her in her old school, and her old school this and her old school that, but I don't think she gets the message - no one CARES.

But MW. MW!!! He goes out of his way to annoy people, starts rumours, thinks it's so effing cool to be an effing smartass, and GRRRRRRR, I can't say any more without murdering the keyboard.

This isn't just some whiny rant by some pathetic schoolkid. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS. THIS IS MY LIFE.

I don't want any sympathy. I don't want people saying 'Poor you, I feel really sorry for you' or stuff like that. I just want people to UNDERSTAND.

I know some people are a lot worse off than me. But that's due to big issues, like climate change or economy crisis or governments gone crook.

My problems are easily solved, but I need help with that.

I just want people to see I'm a normal kid who deserves to have a normal life.

Why can't anyone see that? Why am I always the outsider, the weirdo?

It's Not a Crime

It's not a crime to be in love with fictional characters. They're better than every effing guy I know. And that includes you, BSC, so shut up.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?

It's not a crime to be completely obsessed with Twilight and wish you live in Forks. At least MW isn't there, so even that tiny fact would make it better than where I live now.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?

It's not a crime to like Star Wars. Millions, squillions of people love Star Wars, and it's brilliant and a perfect muse.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?

It's not a crime to be smart and be good at writing. I can't run or jump or throw or any other 'cool' talents, so you and I have just got to live with what I got.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?

It's not a crime to be rebellious. The world is far from perfect, and I don't want to pretend it's anywhere near perfection.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?

It's not a crime to cry when you're upset, hurt or heartbroken. I cry all the time - it's adolescent mood swings, and people should be more understanding.

So why do I get treated like a criminal?


Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Tick Tock, World Clocks

You guys are lucky...two posts in one day...

I've put World Clocks as my 'gadget' at the bottom of the page. I live in WA, Australia, La Pianista lives in Texas and Chamal in Sri Lanka, and the other clocks are pretty self explanitory. No wonder La Pianista have a bit of trouble communicating - it's six in the morning for her when it's eight at night for me, so I'm asleep whilst she typing messages at me!

So, if you're wondering why I haven't answered to comments (and I generally answer unless you've posted your comments between nine pm and seven am or eight am to three-thirty pm (by my clock)) CHECK MY CLOCK - I have access ONLY between seven am to eight am and three-thirty am to nine pm.

I love talking to people around the world - although I'm getting a kick out of this whole time-zone thing.

Why can't we all have the same time?

Well, duh, LR, because the poor Texans will have to become nocturnal...

Better finish this post before you have to put up with me talking to myself on the internet...which is what I do when I'm in a funny mood...

Like now...

Love, Lady Renegade


Okay, because I'm graduating, we have to learn...

Ballroom dancing!

We don't have a great fancy ball at a great fancy hall and everyone wears a great fancy dress with a great fancy (deadly) corset and laugh at the boys wearing tuxedos.

No, we have a dinner dance, which is where we all dance and have supper in the local hall.

So yeah, not so grand. But it sounds pretty fun.

I've already bought my dress - well, it's a hand-me-down from my sister, who is pretty drop-dead gorgeous and has lots of drop-dead-gorgeous clothes, so the dress is pretty something. It's red, with a gold and red-rhinstone neckpiece that goes around my neck, and it slinks down my body, accenting all my good features and hiding all the bad parts. I've paired it with copper-and-cork wedge heels and I'm planning to borrow a curler or find some way to curl my hair, so I'm going to look as hot as a plain girl can get.

That's the fun part. The not-so-fun part is the dancing.

Okay, I'll admit it, ballroom dancing is very fun. But it's awkward, which kills some of the fun. I mean, I have lots of guyfriends (guyfriends not boyfriends - there is a difference) and I laugh and chat and hang out with them just like I do with my girlfriends. But to have them, like, uber-close, holding one of their hands and having the other far too close to your butt than is naturally comfortable is a little...


So far we've learned a barndance and half of a salsa, both of which are pretty straightforward except for a 'whirlie' (where both partners do a three-sixty and become far too close for comfort in the process) and a 'spinner' (where the girl spins whilst the guy attempts to continue dancing).

Most guys are okay at dancing - apart from the obvious reluctance that is a defining characteristic of the Y-chromosone. The tall guys that you get along with okay or sort-of okay are the best guys to dance with. You're not taller than them (in fact, the best height to be is about a foot or at least a good three inches taller than the girl), you don't feel opposed to dancing as shoving bamboo splinters under your nails and you generally have a lot of fun. The guys that you hate (there is one guy in my class who I never get along with and never will) are the worst to dance with - you kind of have this permanent frown on your face and you have to resist the urge to fold your arms stubbornly or better still, slap the stupid bloke. And this one guy happens to be roughly the same size and shape of a beanbag, with flesh the same consistancy of a jellyfish, so it isn't the most pleasant experience, dancing with him, no.

And this is just dancing with the boys in our class. Imagine what it will be like dancing, in full makeup and dress and heels, with the rest of the grade.


The thin, weedy, short guys are a little harder to dance with than the first category of boys mentioned. It's very hard to spin unless you crouch down, or, if your partner is particularly light, lift them off the ground, and you generally have to lead, which is slightly weird as all of our dances are designed so that the guy is leading. Some of the weedy boys haven't got a clue what you're doing, which is sometimes not a problem as you're leading anyway, but if you don't know what you're doing than the both of you are deep-fried. Some of the weedy guys happen to be my friends, and most of my friends are smart, so they're not so bad to dance with, apart from the obvious size-and-height ratio.

The absolute worst partner is this guy who dances as if you're going to run off on him at any minute, which is what most of the girls felt like doing after a while (we change partners every five seconds or so, so after about three seconds you start considering pulling a Houdini). He grabs your hand so tight that the tips go white and the knuckles go red, and pushes you so close, so when you do a whirlie you're practically kissing his shoulder (and making out with a guy's is really bad while you're dancing). But the worst moment is when you get to the spins - the guy is supposed to gently nudge the girl to get her spinning, not the huge slap you get from this macho-dancer. It sends you flying into the guy three partners down, which disrupts the whole dance.

So we have our four types of boys: the ones worth dancing with, the guy-that-I-can't-name-that-I-hate, the weedy boys and the violent dancer.

Dancing is so fascinating...

Sunday, October 19, 2008


For those who haven't yet grasped that I'm Twilight obsessed, face it already!





That clear with everyone?

Okay, I've just been searching stuff up from Twilight (my absolute favourite pastime), and I've found a lot of weird things - people trying to pass a cat dying for Rob Pattinson's singing, stuff like that. But I have found some good stuff - the new trailor, the official and other version of Bella's Lullaby, and a fanmade Breaking Dawn trailer, which is very good despite a naked couple making out (like, a full minute of it...gross).

For those of you that don't know (I don't know what you're still doing here - get onto Wikipedia and twilightthemovie.com now!) about Twilight, I am kind enough (cough) to put summaries of all the books below:

Twilight: (first book)
When a young girl moves to the dreary town of Forks and falls irrevocably in love with a vampire, her life is turned upside down as she finds herself as the lover of one vampire but the victim of him and many, many, more...

New Moon: (second book)
When her Edward leaves her in a desperate attempt to preserve her life, Bella falls into a state of depression, despair and the very meaning of meaningless...and finds out that vampires are not the only mythical creatures that exist in Forks.

Eclipse: (third book)
Bella is caught between two creatures that shouldn't exist, and a fate worse than death, to be delivered by someone worse than the Devil...

Breaking Dawn: (fourth book)
Bella has made her choice...but are the consequences more sinister and deadly than she first thought?

I wrote those reviews myself, so don't blame me if they're bad.

Any comments about your opinion of the Twilight Saga, or any links to and GOOD videos of Twilight (fan vids, behind the scenes, new trailers etc) are gladly appreciated.

I hope I haven't driven you all to boredom - it's the weekend, and I haven't thought of anything good to write. I will post something interesting soon.

Lady Renegade

Friday, October 17, 2008


I swear, this is the last post I will do about me. The rest will be about events and funny things and sad things and stuff like normal blogs.

This last post about me is about my obsessions, and other people's vendettas against them.

I have crazy obsessions - a lot of them. I'm a researcher by heart (which is why I joined Wikipedia - everything is on it) and I have to research one subject at a time - I go crazy just researching random things.

My first obsession, when I was about eight, was Elizabeth I. I was crazy about Elizabeth - I was going through a 'girl power' stage at that time, and I thought she was pretty cool. Researching is one of my other talents - I could grasp adult texts at a very early age - and I was poring over books about Elizabeth, Bloody Mary, Henry VIII and of course, his six wives, Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn (my personal favourite out of them all), Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, Catherine Howard and Catherine Parr. Books, websites, encyclopaedias, videos - all sorts of media. People were surprised that I did it purely for fun, for enjoyment, just for the sake of staving of boredom, and that I researched with such enthusiasm.

Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth I remain one of my many idols to this day.

My second obsession was Pirates of the Caribbean. My sister was flipping through channels and came across a replay of Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl and told me that I might like it.

Wrong. I loved it.

I wanted to know everything there was to know about Pirates of the Caribbean. I watched every movie with fanatical enthusiasm, worshipped all the actors gleefully and meticulously annalyzed every aspect of every part of the story. My mother, who had to put up with me recounting the exact events of Anne Boleyn's imprisonment and execution, was now bombarded with the history of Jack Sparrow.

I do feel very sorry for my mother.

I dreamed of playing Sao Feng's daughter in the fourth installment, which I hoped against hope, prayed against prayer would arrive soon. I was a complete fanatic.

I was obsessed with the Will Turner - Elizabeth Swann fan videos on YouTube as well - some of them were quite good. From 'Willabeth' videos I started watching Elizabeth Swann videos, from them I started watching Keira Knightley videos.

It was then I came across a video of Keira Knightley's scenes as the Queen's decoy, Sabe, in Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace. I had no idea she had been in Star Wars - the only thing I knew about Star Wars was my teacher briefly mentioning something about 'Jedi' and the classic 'Luke, I am your father' quote. The clips didn't make a lot of sense to me - clips taken from all parts of the film compressed into one video would hardly make a lot of sense to anyone. But I read. And read. And became obsessed. Again.

Star Wars filled my world - particularly the prequel trilogy. I got teased silly by it, which is sort of ironic seeing as most of the boys at school are obsessed with Star Wars as well. I wasn't interested in the Clone Wars or Jedi Starfighters or that side of Star Wars - I am a girl, and I was instinctively attracted to the beautiful forbidden love story between Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala, like all girls would be. Soon Natalie Portman joined my steadily growing list of idols, and I was hitting on Hayden Christensen in a way that should be illegal.

My Star Wars obsession lingers on slightly today, as does my Tudor Dynasty obsession. But my biggest obsession at the moment is Twilight.

Twilight is a young adult horror/romance book saga by American novelist Stephenie Meyer, about a young girl who falls irrevocably in love with a vampire. To cut a long and exciting story short, she is suddenly swept into a world where your worst nightmares and best dreams become a heightened reality, and she must chose between her human life, a life with the beautiful immortals or with another, just as daunting mythical creature.

I came across this obsession also via my sister, who had friends who were obsessed with the series and encouraged her to check it out. I was hooked - in more ways than one - and I'm still obsessed with the entire series, although I do have a soft spot for Edward Cullen and Jasper Hale.

So next time someone is obsessed with something so strange you just have to laugh, stop yourself.

What if you suddenly find yourself caught up in a strange obssession?

Thursday, October 16, 2008

The World That I Live In

I live in a very strange world. I don't really fit in, but I'm not entirely an outsider.

Here in Australia, we have two rules: Go with the flow and be a silver fish.

Okay, I'd better explain my 'fish' theory before I completely lose you.

My theory is that everyone is a fish. Most people are silver - and people are instinctively attracted to the prettiest, shiniest silver. The unlucky people are muddy grey - the lucky ones are a beautiful shimmering hue.


Life as a red fish is tough. People don't understand you, people hate you, people pretend to love you but when you really need them, they pull the rug out from under your feet and say "Just joking, kiddo". People don't trust you, people don't like you, people don't believe you.

What a life.

Don't get me wrong, I don't drown myself in self-pity, or ask for any sympathy. This is the cold, bone-hard truth.

I am twelve, of Korean-Singaporean descent, outspoken, academic, rebellious and opinionated.

Adults positively adore me.

The fact remains that second-generation immigrants have it worse off. Torn in one direction to your native roots, torn in another to a fast-moving, exciting but unfriendly Western society. Second-generation Asian immigrants?

Most people in my world are unintentionally rascist, especially the adults. Every school play. The leading roles go to...

A white kid.

Student representatives are:

White kids.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not rascist. But I don't think it's fair that white kids get preference.

I am very outspoken - it comes with being the youngest child in the family. I'm afraid of mediocracy, also born out of being the youngest child, and rebellious to boot. I can't stand some people, and most people can't stand me. Born out of going against the tide, I have my own opinions, and not everyone has to like them. I can't please everyone.

Being talented is a double edged sword - on one hand, reading and writing brings me great joy, and it suits my rebellious nature and my quest to please those who please me. On the other hand, I'm sick and tired of people being jealous, being envious, and blaming me for being smart. It's not like I'm good at everything - far from that - and I believe that I should be able to enjoy what I'm good at without all the blame.

So next time you pick on people with strange talents, or feel envious of people who have what you don't, think to yourself...

Is it possible that they might think you have strange talents? Is it possible that they feel envious of you?

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Hello from Lady Renegade

Hello, and welcome to my blog, The Secret World of a Misunderstood Writer.

The majority of people think, big deal, you're a writer. All the hoo-hah goes to exciting, glamourous jobs. If you have an exciting, glamourous job, I congradulate you - I wish that career path was open for me.

But people don't realize how hard it is to write. How much you get shunned. How you have virtually no real support the whole way.

I don't pretend to be J.K Rowling or Jane Austen or anything near that sort. I am a young, rebellious pre-teen who has passion and talent in writing - end of story. I may be as famous as Rowling or Austen one day - I may be even more well known, or I may be a complete flop. Don't take me for some stuck up, selfish, conceited know-it-all-nerd. I'm a misunderstood renegade.

My interests are the Christopher Nolan Batman remake, George Lucas's Star Wars saga, Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, Jerry Bruckheimer's Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, music, all kinds, ranging from Kasey Chambers to film scores to Mozart and Grieg, books, movies, writing (naturally) and the only two sports I can play without making a fool of myself, basketball and archery.

I am known as "Officially the Greatest Movie Critic in the Game" or "geesycheese" on Rotten Tomatoes, and as the (deleted) Wikipedia user HJH Lady Renegade, aka Rebel Queen Pokeynut, Princess Rebel, Her Holy Jamoley Highness, Rebel Queen Pokeynut, By the Grace of the Holy Banana, Princess of Wikitopia, Lady Renegade, etc. (I'm that kind of person - wacky and sometimes loveable). Which brings me to the BIG QUESTION:

What the hell is a pre-teen doing writing a blog?

Well, partly because I love writing and I want people to understand me. But mostly because I had a nice network on Wikipedia, all was going well, until...



How could anyone block me? I was a queen! No-one can block a queen! ESPECIALLY Rebel Queen Pokeynut! That's High Pokeynut Treason!

Unfortunately, some users really didn't care.

So I got blocked, I've been unblocked, but at the moment I'm still in autoblock for no bizarre reason (if you're not familiar with Wikipedia, you won't know what I'm talking about). I'm angry, I'm seriously considering whether or not I should continue to be a user after my block has been lifted. I decided to attempt to move my little network of friends here, where (hopefully) we are not in danger of people against a little bit of fun and socializing, and expand my little network of friends. So to LaPianista, Chamal and Bella Swan, the considering-retiring Wikipedia user HJH Lady Renegade salutes you!

To all my friends, new and old, I just gotta say, I love you all. Please leave a comment, or email me at geesycheesydarita@gmail.com. Please put as the subject RE: Your Blog from (the name I know you as here). I would love to hear from you!