1 + 8 = 18

September 17th-21st was one hell of a birthday extravagaza. Thank you to those who bombarded me with birthday wishes via technological devices or meet, greets and outings. All those contributions made me a very happy birthday girl.

Last week wasnt just my birthday but also Air New Zealand Fashion Week. I was avoiding the hype as there was nothing for me to get hyped about and I couldnt be bothered reading the crap on Runway Reported. However I came across a new blog which has been enjoyable to read as Ellen Falconer who is the author of Hearts on Fire gives an opinion and really makes hearing about Fashion Week not so pretentious and fuck off wanky.

It is adorable with a some jazz. She does not strain from the truth and reality. Thank fuck for reality!

Your fortune of fail

Why are some people such fucking idiots? Are they even that stupid? It goes with their stereotype, but really can you actually be so dumb? Obviously.

For fucks sake someone who gets exposed so regularly needs to make a break through with something good, for the better. I am getting so fed up with today's "celebrity" clientel. There are bigger and more important things in this world than you.

Shit, get off your high horse, what is it that you really do, that really matters to and will really help change the world? Because whatever it is now is doing shit all. You are encouraging deadly sins that we are already finding hard to draw away from.

What you do in your life cant be that rewarding.

Fuck, I hate what surfing the internet does to me, makes me all bi-polar and Miss Big Contradiction.

Save 2008 seventh form students

All I know is that during this past weekend I have learnt that a lot of us are confused with what to do next year, as we draw closer to the real world. It happens every year with a new lot of students but I am in it this year and I am sitting on a pointy fucking fence which is very uncomfortable!

Fuck you September

For once I had a bad day away from my classes. I had a productive full day at school with motivation just looping around my body during photography and art design and I think that I am finally on a role with both of my folios.

It wasnt until school was over when I sunk in to my seat and repeated the f-word. It was so strange, usually things would be the opposite but because I have had the chance to actually think about my future I really feel like stabbing something.

Perhaps I should put all my options in to balloons and pop them one by one until there is one balloon left and that being the direction I take in life. However, knowing my luck it would be the worse. Yet knowing my predicitions, that bad luck could have potentional to surprise me with what I wanted in the first place. Thus making the balloon idea, well, stupid.

I'm feeling a bit short straw at the moment and slowly growing awkward. I just e-mailed someone that I look up to a letter that I wrote on the bus, filled with 21 question marks. I am afraid that it may be a bit invasive and perhaps tonight wasnt the appropriate time to send it off, but I was peaking on pen and paper and if I stop I'll never climb up my ladder.

Some of the questions I was asking was something a religious person may ask their God or a stoner would bring up in conversation for some fucked up knowlegde. It was so self-indulged - oh fuck, I am self-indulged.

Self-induglement was basically the theme of todays special conversation.