Lying bleeding on the ground isn’t a good look for anyone. Especially when the offending person’s nose is bent at a weird angle. And when the person who punched you is drunk off they’re nut, it makes it that much worse.
It’s usually good to rectify this situation as soon as possible.
So when this happened to me I felt just a little bit stupid. But interestingly I’m a probably better friend with the bloke who hit me now than I was before the fight.
Now, I know it is dumb to fight, and even dumber to lose, but I don’t regret it. I think regret is stupid. It makes us feel like parts of our lives are mistakes. And I am happy at the moment, so no matter how I got to this moment, the end justifies the means.
That’s what I think anyway.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Home Sweet Home
I know it sounds weird, but watching Big Brother last night (I don't watch it regularly, it was the first thing that came on), but Clunes is a bit like Big Brother. I recently got back from my 8 week teenage sabbatical and it seems to be true.
Look at it this way, some immature kids get shoved into a house with people they largely don't know. They have tasks to do throughout the week. They have to cook, clean and look after themselves. And every now and then someone will go home for mistakes they've made throughout the week.
But then again Clunes doesn't end in one of the kids winning some ridiculous amount of money for being stared at through a camera.
I wish it did.
Moving on.
I have been reflecting on Clunes on a deeper level than its similarities between it and shit TV shows. I have made what I hope to be lifelong ties because of it, and learned a lot about myself. Not because of Clunes and its sacred classes, but because of my house leader Nin.
A bit about Nin:
Height: 5 foot
Age:35
Despite a child-like outside this devil woman can scare the living shit out of the most hardened teenagers.
In all seriousness though, without Nin no-one in our house would have made it through Clunes. She is the most amazing person I have ever met. She is what a teacher is meant to be.
Isn't it ironic that the one place that the school reserves for kids to get close to each other I go to and the coolest person there is a teacher.
I started to appreciate all the crap my parents do for me while I was at Clunes. I even missed Dad scaring the living shit out of me in the water when we surf. No matter how dumb it sounds I always feel close to him when we do that sort of dumb stuff.
Look at it this way, some immature kids get shoved into a house with people they largely don't know. They have tasks to do throughout the week. They have to cook, clean and look after themselves. And every now and then someone will go home for mistakes they've made throughout the week.
But then again Clunes doesn't end in one of the kids winning some ridiculous amount of money for being stared at through a camera.
I wish it did.
Moving on.
I have been reflecting on Clunes on a deeper level than its similarities between it and shit TV shows. I have made what I hope to be lifelong ties because of it, and learned a lot about myself. Not because of Clunes and its sacred classes, but because of my house leader Nin.
A bit about Nin:
Height: 5 foot
Age:35
Despite a child-like outside this devil woman can scare the living shit out of the most hardened teenagers.
In all seriousness though, without Nin no-one in our house would have made it through Clunes. She is the most amazing person I have ever met. She is what a teacher is meant to be.
Isn't it ironic that the one place that the school reserves for kids to get close to each other I go to and the coolest person there is a teacher.
I started to appreciate all the crap my parents do for me while I was at Clunes. I even missed Dad scaring the living shit out of me in the water when we surf. No matter how dumb it sounds I always feel close to him when we do that sort of dumb stuff.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Mission Impossible 4: Clunes
Clunes is less than a week away, and already we (the lucky kids going this term) are frothing.
Clunes is definitely going to be a maturing experience.
This is another one of those "For those of you who don't know things".
For those of you who don't know, Clunes is basically where the ungrateful twerps from Wesley College go to the small town of Clunes for 8 weeks to clean, cook and look after ourselves.
Sound impossible for semi-hairy, smelly, hormone driven teenagers?
It is.
So the semi-hairy, smelly, hormone driven teenagers mooch of the less developed, less smelly (debatable) less hormone driven ones. It's mean and totally unfair.
But that's what being a teenager is.
One day hopefully it will change and everyone will be socially and intellectually equal but until then.....well, we can't really do anything.
In Clunes there are eight people per house, and everyone gets to put down who they want. Of course not everyone gets who they want but, again, life's not fair.
Group 30 (my group) leaves for Clunes on the 22nd of April.
I have been frothing like all my fellow students for ages on Clunes, but the closer it gets the more terrified I become.
I guess it's a normal reaction to going away from home for 8 weeks for the first time without regular visits from your folks, and I'm honestly looking forward to that change, but I don't know what is going to happen to me socially, physically and mentally. Most likely everywhere we look there will be the new couple eating each others faces and I will either put on or lose heaps of weight physically, but what most scares me is what will happen to me mentally?
Clunes is, without argument, the worst brain melter in school, and I don't know what will happen. Hanging out 24/7 with your best mates swearing and using sentences like "S'goin on?" and "Ah, that bitch? She wooden know da difference between a cock and an iPod" cant be
good for someones mental health.
Can it?
I mean, I love my mates, but I don't really hold them in the highest regard when it comes to structuring a sentence or articulating a point sufficiently, and they probably don't think the same of me. That's the way it's meant to be.
Either way, I will be blogging while I am at Clunes so hopefully that will be enough to keep me at some level of mental awareness and stop me from dribbling on my chest mumbling something incoherent about the taste of the beetle I had recently consumed.
Clunes is definitely going to be a maturing experience.
This is another one of those "For those of you who don't know things".
For those of you who don't know, Clunes is basically where the ungrateful twerps from Wesley College go to the small town of Clunes for 8 weeks to clean, cook and look after ourselves.
Sound impossible for semi-hairy, smelly, hormone driven teenagers?
It is.
So the semi-hairy, smelly, hormone driven teenagers mooch of the less developed, less smelly (debatable) less hormone driven ones. It's mean and totally unfair.
But that's what being a teenager is.
One day hopefully it will change and everyone will be socially and intellectually equal but until then.....well, we can't really do anything.
In Clunes there are eight people per house, and everyone gets to put down who they want. Of course not everyone gets who they want but, again, life's not fair.
Group 30 (my group) leaves for Clunes on the 22nd of April.
I have been frothing like all my fellow students for ages on Clunes, but the closer it gets the more terrified I become.
I guess it's a normal reaction to going away from home for 8 weeks for the first time without regular visits from your folks, and I'm honestly looking forward to that change, but I don't know what is going to happen to me socially, physically and mentally. Most likely everywhere we look there will be the new couple eating each others faces and I will either put on or lose heaps of weight physically, but what most scares me is what will happen to me mentally?
Clunes is, without argument, the worst brain melter in school, and I don't know what will happen. Hanging out 24/7 with your best mates swearing and using sentences like "S'goin on?" and "Ah, that bitch? She wooden know da difference between a cock and an iPod" cant be
good for someones mental health.
Can it?
I mean, I love my mates, but I don't really hold them in the highest regard when it comes to structuring a sentence or articulating a point sufficiently, and they probably don't think the same of me. That's the way it's meant to be.
Either way, I will be blogging while I am at Clunes so hopefully that will be enough to keep me at some level of mental awareness and stop me from dribbling on my chest mumbling something incoherent about the taste of the beetle I had recently consumed.
Fifteen Years Old
I am now fifteen.
I was sort of disappointed when I did. Not because I was one year older, but because, for some reason, I was expecting some sort of revelation on how to lead my life.
I didn't.
I woke up, got up, showered, went out to meet some girls and got ditched.
But even without the life-changing revelations, I feel older. I probably don't act it or look it, but I feel it. And that's got to count for something.
I was sort of disappointed when I did. Not because I was one year older, but because, for some reason, I was expecting some sort of revelation on how to lead my life.
I didn't.
I woke up, got up, showered, went out to meet some girls and got ditched.
But even without the life-changing revelations, I feel older. I probably don't act it or look it, but I feel it. And that's got to count for something.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Jap-Dat
Tomorrow I have the Jap-Dat.
For those of you who don't know what the Jap-Dat is, namely.....everyone, the Jap-Dat is basically 3 on 3 grid-iron.
You play with a quarter-back, running-back and blocker.
It has most of the rules of grid-iron and you play for the pot. The pot is just the hat that everyone puts $5 in for the privilege of playing. It usually adds up to around $200 bucks, so that should mean each player on the winning team gets $66.67 but those who play aren't smart enough to do long division and the organizers take a share to so usually the winners get about $50 each.
Now that you know the basics of the Jap-Dat (it may sound brutish and pointless, but it is really a finely tuned day for only the fittest athletes of year nine *Ahem*), I will tell you about where we play.
Well...
It's a shit hole.
We play beside a shoddy train station. The ground we play on its rough and the one patch of grass that is still green is about a foot higher than the rest of the ground so you trip over it. The organizers (two year nine boys who would look quite at home in a cell) bring a crappy radio and belt out AC-DC tunes with a few trance and electro-punk numbers thrown in throughout the day.
Those who do play are either three feet tall or built like steam rollers with a taste for burgers.
We all drink canned home brand lemonade or Fanta (not actual Fanta of course, a cheap remake) and ignore the very diligently written rules (sense my sarcasm?) and run head on at each other, also ignoring the ball.
Last time it was on I played with a kid also named Joey with backne (acne on his back) who I had met that day (teams are drawn from a hat) and Tom Cantwell, another kid from my school.
The Jap-Dat is also the funnest thing I have ever played.
Probably made funner by it's flaws.
For those of you who don't know what the Jap-Dat is, namely.....everyone, the Jap-Dat is basically 3 on 3 grid-iron.
You play with a quarter-back, running-back and blocker.
It has most of the rules of grid-iron and you play for the pot. The pot is just the hat that everyone puts $5 in for the privilege of playing. It usually adds up to around $200 bucks, so that should mean each player on the winning team gets $66.67 but those who play aren't smart enough to do long division and the organizers take a share to so usually the winners get about $50 each.
Now that you know the basics of the Jap-Dat (it may sound brutish and pointless, but it is really a finely tuned day for only the fittest athletes of year nine *Ahem*), I will tell you about where we play.
Well...
It's a shit hole.
We play beside a shoddy train station. The ground we play on its rough and the one patch of grass that is still green is about a foot higher than the rest of the ground so you trip over it. The organizers (two year nine boys who would look quite at home in a cell) bring a crappy radio and belt out AC-DC tunes with a few trance and electro-punk numbers thrown in throughout the day.
Those who do play are either three feet tall or built like steam rollers with a taste for burgers.
We all drink canned home brand lemonade or Fanta (not actual Fanta of course, a cheap remake) and ignore the very diligently written rules (sense my sarcasm?) and run head on at each other, also ignoring the ball.
Last time it was on I played with a kid also named Joey with backne (acne on his back) who I had met that day (teams are drawn from a hat) and Tom Cantwell, another kid from my school.
The Jap-Dat is also the funnest thing I have ever played.
Probably made funner by it's flaws.
Tainted Minds
I realized today just how dimunitive my imagination has become thanks to the Simpsons and strangely enough, Superman.
Now I know every kid of my generation has lost their ability to wonder and think outside the box, but somehow I thought I was immune to the brain shrinking powers of superheroes and every ones favorite TV family.
I'm not.
I looked through my sketchpad today, and strangely enough, Dad was right, I do draw muscle bound do-gooders a lot. And as for the Simpsons, well today i said "D'oh" when i dropped my pencil.
Enough said.
So now I have to concentrate on drawing new things. Like trees. I don't know why trees, they just have a strange gnarled majesty about them.
My god.
I sound more and more like Dad every day.
If I'm not careful I'm going to shrink 5 inches and grow ear hair.
Now I know every kid of my generation has lost their ability to wonder and think outside the box, but somehow I thought I was immune to the brain shrinking powers of superheroes and every ones favorite TV family.
I'm not.
I looked through my sketchpad today, and strangely enough, Dad was right, I do draw muscle bound do-gooders a lot. And as for the Simpsons, well today i said "D'oh" when i dropped my pencil.
Enough said.
So now I have to concentrate on drawing new things. Like trees. I don't know why trees, they just have a strange gnarled majesty about them.
My god.
I sound more and more like Dad every day.
If I'm not careful I'm going to shrink 5 inches and grow ear hair.
What Next?
As you may have noticed, this blog so far hasn't run in a sort of day by day sequence. Well, it's not going to. So get used to it.
I found out on Tuesday that I had to get braces. Immediately I went into a state of denial and proceeded to get pissed of with everyone in the room. I didn't let them know that, but i guess they could see past my (crooked) smile and into my lying eyes.
Naturally when my brother found out he proceeded to gloat and piss me off further. A younger and less controlled me *Ahem* would have probably busted his face but thankfully I held my temper...to a degree.
I have (sort of) come to terms with the fact that I need braces but I'm still annoyed that I'll be wearing them for the next 2 and a bit years.
The next day I had an audition for the lead role in a feature film. The audition seemed to go well so fingers crossed.
I found out on Tuesday that I had to get braces. Immediately I went into a state of denial and proceeded to get pissed of with everyone in the room. I didn't let them know that, but i guess they could see past my (crooked) smile and into my lying eyes.
Naturally when my brother found out he proceeded to gloat and piss me off further. A younger and less controlled me *Ahem* would have probably busted his face but thankfully I held my temper...to a degree.
I have (sort of) come to terms with the fact that I need braces but I'm still annoyed that I'll be wearing them for the next 2 and a bit years.
The next day I had an audition for the lead role in a feature film. The audition seemed to go well so fingers crossed.
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