"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

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Book Review: Romulus, My Father

Mood: hungryyy
Listening to: 'Promise' from the OST of...you know the drill...
Hungry for: korean bbq!
Bella says: 'zzz..zzzz'

Okay, so I've been going on a book-buying spree lately: I bought Romulus, My Father and Beastly....okay, so that's not a big book spree, but anyways. Oh, yeah, and I've ordered an e-reader from Borders so I don't have to fork out a squillion bucks every time I get sick of Twilight.

I've watched the motion picture adaption of Romulus, My Father, starring Eric Bana and Franka Potente, so I've wanted to read this book for quite a while.

It's very different to most biographies that I've read, but what remains the same is the seemingly matter-of-fact way that horrors and tragedies are dictated to the reader. Raimond Gaita is a very talented writer in a sense that he can convey his understanding of the thoughts, morals and ideas of the people around him in his childhood as well as his own views as both a child and as an adult.

But the most important thing is that Gaita's book fills in a very important gap in Australian history, a period that we have all-but-forgotten about - the mid-20th century, when immigrants were both welcomed and shunned into the land of plenty that was also the land of nothingness. What I love best about Gaita's book is that it is relevant to all immigrants, no matter who they are, and when and where they come from.

The stupid thing is, this has taken me about ten days to write. I'm going through a bit of a lull at the moment. Sorry :(.

Monday, June 21, 2010

The Lord Is Not My Friggin Shepard

I really don't have anything against religion.

Well, more specifically, I don't have anything against religion as long as it doesn't interfere with the impersonal way our world works. People can follow whatever religion they want, as far as I'm concerned, as long as they don't impose things on others. It's just not fair.

I personally don't believe in any religion, but I'm constantly being subjected to doing religious shit against my will. In primary school we had a school prayer, which was a Christian thing, when about 80% of the school was Asian, most of them extremely devout Indian Hindus. They told us we were being disrespectful to God by not saying the prayer, but I don't frigging believe in God! I don't have any problem with people believing in God and I don't impose my irreligious beliefs onto them, so why do they do it to me?

And now, the girl's choir have to sing this song from the Vicar of Dibley called 'The Lord Is My Shepard', which is basically one of the psalms set to extremely tedious music. Religious music should be made illegal in public schools - we should not have to sing all this stuff, it's not respecting our own personal beliefs. I don't want to sing about a religion that is, as far as I'm concerned, misogynistic and narrow-minded, but if other people want to sing it, then go ahead. Just don't get me involved.

I was complaining about this to one of my teachers when she said that I was being disrespectful for refusing to sing the song, which was is totally not fair. I never said anything bad about the song and I don't try to prevent other people from singing it, yet they're forcing me to sing it. Its them that's being disrespectful to me, not the other way around. How can they force me to sing when I don't believe? I go to a public school for a reason, yet religion is always imposing itself on me, and I'm sick of it.

I've learned to live peacefully alongside people of all races and religions. Sure, we have disagreements and debates, but we rub along as comfortably as possible. But I'm sick of trying to be converted by this and that, left right and centre. I can't stand not being in control of my life, which is why I'm against religion in the first place.

I am old enough to make my own decisions. I'm an atheist, and a feminist, and I'm proud of it. So don't try and make me into something I'm not.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

There's Not Much a Girl Can Depend On

There's not much a girl can depend on,
These days,
Nothing in this world makes things go our way.
How can we trust ourselves,
When we're so easily swayed,
Too easily discouraged,
Too vulnerable, I say.
How can we trust that we'll stay strong through it all,
When so many things go wrong?

There's not much a girl can depend on,
These days,
No-one in this world does what we say.
How can we trust our friends,
When they gossip that way,
When they backstab,
Bitch, as they say.
How can we trust they'll help us through anything,
When they're as likely to shoot us as smile at us?

There's not much a girl can depend on,
These days,
Nobody helps us keep our troubles at bay.
How can we trust men,
When they so easily go astray,
You say I'm being unfair,
But I've got history to turn against you,
My only weapon, I say.
How can we trust they'll stay true,
When not even sacred marriage means anything to anyone but me or you?

There's not much a girl can depend on,
These days,
The world seems against us,
Our great enemy in this endless fray.
We cannot even help each other,
Let alone ourselves.
We can fight until the end of time,
But when will this injustice end?
Is it an impossible nirvana,
Or a sanctuary just around the river's bend?

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Busy Girl's Bible

It's my belief that people either spend way too much time on their looks, or not enough time at all.

Lately makeup, for me, has gone nearly completely out the window, due to the fact I've weaned myself off daily overuse and the fact I simply don't have the time.

However, that doesn't mean I go to school looking like the hag I do look like when I get up.

I'm a busy chick, I am. School often means getting up before six and leaving before seven thirty, and sometimes I don't get back till five or six that evening. So....

Here is Every Girl's Guide to Looking Decent, Fast.


Overwashed hair is difficult to manage, meaning it takes longer to style than older hair. People these days wash their hair far, far, too often - unless you live in an excessively dirty, hot or humid place, or have an excessively hot or dirty job, you really should only wash your hair about once a week with shampoo and every second day with water. If you have greasy or flat hair, a good tip is to use dry shampoo morning and night. If you don't have dry shampoo, tie your hair up in a ponytail, shake a generous amount of baby powder onto your hands and dust it over your roots (the parts of your hair not in the ponytail), then brush out.

2. Resist the temptation to blowdry your hair every day.

Excessive use of heat appliances on hair can really damage it, not to mention it's seriously annoying when a person you live with wakes you up at the crack of dawn with an atomic explosion, sorry, a hairdryer. If your hair is greasy but you're short on time, dry shampoo it instead, or if you really can't avoid it being wet, towel dry as much as possible and french braid, or twist into an elegant bun - these styles are best done when wet, and still look good when your hair dries.

3. How to survive a horrific bad hair day.

If your hair is simply not working, dry shampoo it for a little volume, STEP AWAY FROM THE MIRROR, and proceed to make the messiest knot you can make with a single elastic and lots of bobby pins. Set with hairspray and you're good to go.

4. Keep it simple, stupid.

If you're running late and you simply must put some makeup on, put on a bold lipstick. This way you can skip foundation and eye makeup because all attention will be on your pout.

5. Be prepared.

Keep all your hair products and cosmetics IN ONE PLACE, preferably near your favourite mirror. Also, keep three non-iron, good to go outfits on one hanger in your wardrobe - one casual, one corporate, and one formal - for mad-rush days, complete with accessories and shoes.

6. How to fix yourself up after a good cry/mad crazy tantrum.

First of all, always always always have an eyeliner, concealer, powder, eye drops, lip product, tissues and hairbrush with you if you're wearing makeup. Blot your face with a tissue and re-rim your eyes with eyeliner, then fix up your foundation with concealer. Dust with powder and put eyedrops in your eyes, and SMILE!!!

7. What to do when the wind totally rapes your hair.

On windy days give lipgloss the slip because there's nothing more annoying or unsexy as hair stuck to sticky lips. Unless you're prepared to whip your hairbrush out every time a breeze flutters in your direction, stick to updos or half-updos on gusty days.

8. Feel confident without makeup.

Lets face it, most schoolkids don't have a lot of time in the morning on their face. The best thing to do is just wash your face and strut your stuff, but if you simply can't do that stick to three products maximum - your face, your eyes, and your lips. That's it.

9. Good trims.

Anyone can wear their hair down and proud with a good haircut and colour - your cut and colour should complement your lifestyle, face shape, skin tone and clothing choices. Investing in a good haircut means you can cut all that time wasted on endlessly blowdrying, flat-ironing, and styling.

10. Just be confident.

You know those days when your hair's a mess and you know you've got that huge red zit on your chin? Just smile.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

This World

They told me that,
In this world,
Boys were the same as girls.
You're innocent until proven guilty,
Right until proven wrong,
That we want peace instead of war,
The truth instead of a lie.
They told me I lived in a world,
Where everything would be alright.

But I realized that,
In this world,
Boys get it so much better than girls.
You're guilty until proven innocent,
Wrong until proven right,
That they want war instead of peace,
A lie instead of the truth.
I know now I live in a world,
Where nothing is alright.

You know who proved it to me?
You did.
You know who tried to deny it?
You did.
I was so innocent,
But you punished me,
When I was right,
You shunned me.

So I know now,
In this world,
Where boys will always be better than girls,
You're guilty even when proven innocent,
You're wrong, always wrong, never right.
That you want war instead of peace,
You prefer a lie over the truth.
I live in this world,
But I still have hope.

That one day,
In this world,
Boys will be the same as girls.
A world where you're innocent until proven guilty,
Right until proven wrong.
A world where we are at peace, never war,
A world of truth, not a lie.
I want to live in this world...
Do you?

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Keanu Reeves

Mood: reeved?
Listening to: 'Promise' from Yi San
Hungry for: kimchi jiggae!
Bella says: 'grrr'

Okay, so I just watched the Matrix in philosophy this week. About ten years late.

Which means my crush on Keanu Reeves is a bit belated, but still, WHAT KIND OF GUY LOOKS HOT WHEN HE'S GOT HOLES ALL OVER HIS BODY? KEANU REEVES!

Oh, and he's got a super sexy trench coat. Phwar.

Okay, so he isn't your traditional Malibu hottie. But still, you have to admit, he'd make an AWESOME HEATHCLIFF.

Monday, June 14, 2010

10 The Weird and not-so-Wonderful Things About Me

Mood: full
Listening to: 'Promise' from the OST of Yi San
Hungry for: more kimchi jiggae!...it's a korean thing...
Bella says: 'can i have some scotch fillet too?'

1. I'm really, really, *really* lazy - I'm serious, it freaks me out how lazy I am. I should really decrease the times I say 'meh, buh,whatevs, man.'

2. I'm really, really, *really* picky - my reading list is, like, massively short, because I'm really fussy about what I read. It just has to be right, you know? Like, easy to read and deep and meaningful as well.

3. I really can't be bothered reading blogs - I know, I'm a blogger, but I really can't read many blogs. The exception? Guess Who's blog, of course, because she and I both moan about the same school and I know what she's talking about and where she's coming from. I know blogs are meant to be all about learning from other people's perspectives, but seriously, I'm hopeless at following blogs - mostly because I simply can't take it in - weird, eh? You'd think a blogger would be a bit better at reading blogs, but no. I love vlogs, though.

4. I am about as fit as a hippo and as flexible as a lump of cement - I'm not joking. I said hippo, because occasionally I can run really, really, fast...for about three milliseconds, then I spend about twenty light years recuperating in my own little mud puddle of a life. As for the flexibility thing, well, put it this way: IF YOU WERE A CYBORG THEN YOU WOULDN'T BE FLEXIBLE EITHER!!!

5. I'm a cyborg - seriously! The official definition of a cyborg is an organism that has both artificial and natural systems, and that is true. I have a pacemaker, and even though I'm not so dependent on it as I used to be, there was one point in my life I quite literally could not live without it.

6. I can't stand bad anologies - I was watching yet another sport report on our EPIC FAIL SOCCER WORLD CUP LOSS AGAINST GERMANY, and the commentator was making a really stupid anology about how watching Germany play was like 'being inside your mouth when a dentist is working on your teeth'. I mean, seriously? What the hell does that mean?

7. When I'm stressed or pissed off I start swearing in Korean - it's a bad habit of mine. I know a tiny smidge of Korean, mostly completely out-of-date phrases used by the Joseon Dynasty Court (I watch heaps of historical prime-time series) and swear words. If I' m really pissed off, I'll veer off from Korean and start screaming absolute jargon...and then you'll know I'm REALLY mad.

8. I make funny faces when I'm having a brain fart - like, seriously funny faces.

9. I have a really shit short term memory - I can't stand knowing a word but not knowing what it means, or watching half a movie, or even hearing about a movie, and not knowing what happens. So it'll occur to me to look it up on the internet, so I'll go upstairs, coax and threaten my computer into behaving and then by the time I have Wikipedia loaded, I've completely forgotten what I wanted to look up. Annoying.

10. I get major stage fright. Weird, eh? You wouldn't think someone with insanity levels like mine would get stage fright. But I do.

Friday, June 11, 2010


Mood: meh
Listening to: 'Tangled Up In Me' by Skye Sweetnam
Hungry for: pizza
Bella says: 'I...want...pizza...'

Radical new layout everybody!

Blogger has got some new super cool designs, thought I'd try this one out. I love changing my blog with my mood - at the moment I'm feeling quite nerdy and proud of it, hence the schoolish background. Oh, and I'm a bit tomboyish at the moment, too, despite the fact I'm wearing German lace stockings.

Would love feedback although, knowing me, I won't listen to it. I know some things are a little hard to read, but I haven't quite figured out the mechanics of the new template designer. I've reverted back to my renegade colours of blue, red and silver - sorry if you liked the other pretty colours, but renegade is where I belong.

Also, I have no idea who Guess Who is. Any hints would be gladly appreciated.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010


Mood: cold
Listening to: 'My Happy Ending' by Avril Lavigne
Hungry for: horlicks!
Bella says: 'Cold, curl up into tight ball....even colder, curl up into an even tighter ball...'

People rely too much on accidents.

Accidents are actually quite helpful, you know. How to sound modest after your ship comes in? 'It was an accident'. How to not look like a tard after something goes massive kapoof in your face? 'It was an accident'.

People contribute everything to accidents. Career boosts, moments when dreams come true, winning something huge. If you don't, then you have an ego problem. Society wants us all to be klutzes and just trip into life.

I may be a klutz when it comes to me and not knocking over things, but I'm not a klutz at life. When things go bad, then they're my fault, or they're events out of my control - like, things genuinely out of my control, like the fact I was born with congenital heart defects. When things go right, then it's all me and my beautiful family. No accidents.

Oh, and, of course, teenage pregnancies are all 'accidents'. What kind of bull is that? Do babies fall out of the sky? 'Woops' said God 'I musta dropped that one a bit too early'? A bad choice made when young and boozy is still a choice. Sure, accidents happen. But that wasn't an accident.

Life is not an accident. Fame and fortune is not an accident. Shit isn't an accident. Most things in our world are not accidental, so we've got to stop pretending they are. I'm sick of people contributing things, both good and bad, of their own doing, to be the work of God, of nature, of accidents, of karma, fortune, luck. It's not. We are human beings and life is the beautiful gift we are bestowed with, and trusting it to any of these non-existant, fleeting and untrustworthy things is like throwing a baby off a roof and just hoping that someone will catch it. The only way your baby - your life - is going to be safe and productive is when it is safe in your arms, under your care, always in your sight. Blaming and contributing things to stuff like religion, booze and luck is not taking responsibility for you and yours.

Take the pain, feel the pain, live life, love life.

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Our. Psycho. Police Minister.

Mood: flipped off
Listening to: 'Never Let You Go' by Justin Bieber (someone also has to sing this for me on a Valentine's Day)
Hungry for: lunch

There is a desperate shortage of 'lollypop men' in Australia.

Which is understandable. I mean, who wants to receive a lousy wage to wear a hideous fluorescent vest and wave a lollypop around so some dinky kids can cross the road?

Not many people.

Due to the shortage of traffic wardens, police are often (quote) 'forced' to stand in.

And because this is 'so desperately inappropriate', the police minister wants to get high school seniors to do the job - WITHOUT PAY.

What the buck?

I mean, it's not like TEE students have eons of spare time, you know. And no teenager worth their salt is going to do a job that involves marshalling snotty schoolkids and potentially getting hit by hoons for not a single bleeding cent. I mean, what is he thinking? Is our tragic academic reputation not bad enough already? Do they not know that there is actually some of us who have a life? Do they actually think we're going to volunteer to help a flipping government that spends more money on sports stadiums then women's health and education put together?

I'll tell you something, police minister. Get a flipping life. We're students - we have to save this bloody planet because you bleeding old farts have flipping killed it. You want us to be traffic wardens? You want us, the bright new generation, to get run over by flipping hoons? And you don't even want to give us and bloody money for it? What are we? Slaves?

This is going too far. I can't believe that this government, far from helping the next generation, is exploiting it. We're kids - not irresponsible flipping on the dole. So don't treat us like we are.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Growing Up.

I think I'm recovering from being a makeup addict.

I first discovered makeup when I was about eleven. It was about the first time I found out about boys, and how, if you're lucky, they like you and kiss your cheek, and the first time I found out about periods and pimples. Eleven is a young age to find out about this sort of stuff. But when I was a child, that was the norm. We get thrown into adulthood so early, whilst adults are insisting we act like children when it's too late, we're already past that, and then we have to figure out things by ourselves.

Before eleven, I was a happy child. Optimistic. It was before a time when I didn't doubt myself. It was a time when trifle things like boys and friends didn't really matter to me. My whole world was filled with books - endlessly books. The joys in my life were simple joys, fulfilling joys. A soft bed after a long day, hot food after a day of choking down sandwiches, my mother's soft, warm hugs.

I wish my life went back to then.

Starting from eleven, I truly began to hate myself. Before then, it never really occured to me that I was, school-world speaking, so many social classes lower than some of my peers. I lived in a world where I came first in everything I wanted to come first in, like reading class and spelling bees, and last in everything I didn't care about, like math. But when I was eleven there it was a whole new experience - I was last, and I so desperately, desperately, wanted to be first.

It was then I became obsessed with how I looked. I played endlessly with my hair. I'd badger my mother for makeup and carefully, religiously, smear it on my face every day. I worried about how my stomach stuck out, the random marks on my newly-enormous hips, my crooked teeth, my small Asian eyes. I was one of the first in my class to discover the joy of acne, so I also became one of the first in my class to wear makeup. Ignorant to the fact in three years time every girl worth her salt would have a compact mirror and a black kohl pencil in their pockets wherever they went, I fast grew a reputation as a slut, and some kind of desperate crazy person - all because I had lipgloss and sanitary pads in my bag and no-one else did.

That's how my makeup obsession started.

Don't get me wrong, I still love makeup. I'm a lot better at it now then when I was eleven, and I'm much better equipped. But until quite recently, I wouldn't leave the house unless I had something on my face - even just going out to get groceries with ma I would dab powder on my nose and concealer on my zits and rim my eyes with kohl.

It wasn't healthy, the way I obsessed over my looks - but I was pressured. I was insanely jealous of those pretty girls who seemed to get away without wearing makeup, and they were the girls who often teased me about my gratitious cosmetic use. They were the kind of girls who thought that you must have done something dreadful to get zits on your nose, and you must commited an unspeakable sin to have my 'squinty eyes', as they called them. And the endless frustration of the lack of attention from boys - how it tormented me! I spent a good three years pining for some boy, any boy, to take any kind of attention to me.

It's taken me a little while, but I've weaned myself off makeup. I've accepted how I look without it - I've accepted my small eyes, my spotty brown face, my snub nose. But do you know what? I've been weaning myself off makeup, and boys, subconciously. I only realized that I had gotten over my makeup obsession when I was taking off my makeup just now, after a concert (everyone wears makeup for concerts), and as I was wiping off the makeup I was like 'Wow, I don't look like a demon. So what was all the fuss about?'. The same with boys - I've kind of resigned myself to the fact that all the single boys in my school are single for a reason.

Of course, there are some things I'll never grow out of. I'll never be able to put down and step away from my precious little pot of black gel eyeliner for good. I'll never not cry over a boy again, and I'll always gobble up rom-coms and romantic fiction and have a little blue moment, wishing I was Clare Abshire, wishing I was Bella Swan, wishing I was Elizabeth Bennet. But hey, one day I'll meet my Henry DeTamble. One day I'll meet my Edward Cullen, my Mr Darcy. And I'm gonna meet him and he's gonna love me without makeup on. Because as much as I want love now, I've learned the hard way not to accept second-best. I want someone to want me for me, not the mascara I wear.

So I'm gonna wait. And while I'm waiting, I'm gonna be happy. I'm gonna live life, and forget about boys until they can't forget about me. I've promised myself that. Do you know why? Because I deserve it.