This could actually work.
J
About Me
- Junaberry
- I'm a student from Australia who used to have a lot of time on her hands but doesn't have that much anymore. Now she has other stuff on her hands.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Monday, October 7, 2013
Day One
Day one of my dad's retirement.
Number of arguments with mother? Three. But the end of the day is yet to come. Number of arguments with brother? Upwards of three and counting. Number of arguments with me?
I don't know if you can consider my "arguments" with my dad as arguments. Mostly because I try to be annoying in a way that may or may not be sarcastic but you can't really tell. For example, whenever my dad doesn't like how I do something (where I put the kettle, how I wash a dish, how quickly I pull the blinds open), I go into my dead eyes shopgirl mode.
What is dead eyes shopgirl mode? That's the mode I go into when I've had a really crappy day at work with abusive customers. I no longer care what they think of me. Instead, I am cordial and show no emotion.
"Sorry for the inconvenience," I will say, making eye contact with my soulless eyes. They will become agitated as you cannot really argue with someone who is not arguing back. They don't want to look like dickheads to the other customers.
I do this to my dad. "Sorry," I will say. "It won't happen again." He will become similarly agitated as you can't really argue/tell someone off when they are apologizing, no matter how dead eyes shopgirl mode it is. Am I being sarcastic? Yeah, maybe. Will it actually not happen again? Not sure because I often stop listening when in dead eyes shopgirl mode. Am I really sorry? Not a chance. I just want you to shut up so I can go back to whatever I'm doing.
I try to tell my mum to do the same thing when she's arguing with dad. However, she is physically incapable of doing this. She gets flustered, angry, raises her voice. All the things that just exacerbate a situation. In my future marriage, my husband and I are either going to have a super calm relationship with no arguments or he will get really pissed off with me as I go into dead eyes shopgirl mode every time he tries to start a conversation with me that maybe even be slightly inflammatory or have the potential to go that way.
Will report back with findings from Day Two.
J
Number of arguments with mother? Three. But the end of the day is yet to come. Number of arguments with brother? Upwards of three and counting. Number of arguments with me?
I don't know if you can consider my "arguments" with my dad as arguments. Mostly because I try to be annoying in a way that may or may not be sarcastic but you can't really tell. For example, whenever my dad doesn't like how I do something (where I put the kettle, how I wash a dish, how quickly I pull the blinds open), I go into my dead eyes shopgirl mode.
What is dead eyes shopgirl mode? That's the mode I go into when I've had a really crappy day at work with abusive customers. I no longer care what they think of me. Instead, I am cordial and show no emotion.
"Sorry for the inconvenience," I will say, making eye contact with my soulless eyes. They will become agitated as you cannot really argue with someone who is not arguing back. They don't want to look like dickheads to the other customers.
I do this to my dad. "Sorry," I will say. "It won't happen again." He will become similarly agitated as you can't really argue/tell someone off when they are apologizing, no matter how dead eyes shopgirl mode it is. Am I being sarcastic? Yeah, maybe. Will it actually not happen again? Not sure because I often stop listening when in dead eyes shopgirl mode. Am I really sorry? Not a chance. I just want you to shut up so I can go back to whatever I'm doing.
I try to tell my mum to do the same thing when she's arguing with dad. However, she is physically incapable of doing this. She gets flustered, angry, raises her voice. All the things that just exacerbate a situation. In my future marriage, my husband and I are either going to have a super calm relationship with no arguments or he will get really pissed off with me as I go into dead eyes shopgirl mode every time he tries to start a conversation with me that maybe even be slightly inflammatory or have the potential to go that way.
Will report back with findings from Day Two.
J
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Justin Long
I'm in love. I'm in love. Oh, to be Amanda Seyfried (speaking of Amanda, I love her to bits):
I always thought Justin Long was kind of... well, ugly. And I still don't find him particularly physically attractive but I am very attracted to his... mind. Yes, his mind. Yes, I have achieved enlightenment, am able to look past the aesthetic and see the wonder that lies underneath (and by "wonder that lies underneath," I am referring to the fact that he has a decent body).
There are several reasons for this change of heart. Firstly, I watched Going the Distance featuring him and Drew Barrymore ("So, like, what are your hopes and dreams?" Never forget) which was an adorable and "sexy" movie (I feel very creepy describing things as sexy). Secondly, I read this unforgettable article/interview: http://www.vulture.com/2013/04/justin-long-romantic-comedies-a-case-of-you-interview.html
I mean, I can't even. I can't even. Do such men exist in real life? I just want to lie around in my pyjamas (or lack thereof) with him and watch tonnes of random rom coms. Then have our own "rom com" if you "know what I'm saying." I don't know why I'm putting so many things in inverted commas. I just don't know anymore.
J
I always thought Justin Long was kind of... well, ugly. And I still don't find him particularly physically attractive but I am very attracted to his... mind. Yes, his mind. Yes, I have achieved enlightenment, am able to look past the aesthetic and see the wonder that lies underneath (and by "wonder that lies underneath," I am referring to the fact that he has a decent body).
There are several reasons for this change of heart. Firstly, I watched Going the Distance featuring him and Drew Barrymore ("So, like, what are your hopes and dreams?" Never forget) which was an adorable and "sexy" movie (I feel very creepy describing things as sexy). Secondly, I read this unforgettable article/interview: http://www.vulture.com/2013/04/justin-long-romantic-comedies-a-case-of-you-interview.html
I mean, I can't even. I can't even. Do such men exist in real life? I just want to lie around in my pyjamas (or lack thereof) with him and watch tonnes of random rom coms. Then have our own "rom com" if you "know what I'm saying." I don't know why I'm putting so many things in inverted commas. I just don't know anymore.
J
Saturday, October 5, 2013
It's All For You
That's a quote from Love, Actually. Said by the rotten whore who seduces Severus Snape. In no way do I condone such behaviour but I enjoyed the quote.
I started wearing my hair down to work a few weeks ago. The first time was because my hair was still wet from the shower. Indian guy complimented me on it and I thought, "Hm." Compliments are nice, people. That was the week R had to switch his shift with another girl. The next week, I wore it down again despite not having wet hair. I admit that I was consciously aware that I wanted R to see me with my hair down and therefore in a potentially more attractive light. Unfortunately, I don't think he noticed because we were so busy that we didn't talk that day.
But today, I wore it down again. He wandered over during the day and said, "You've got a new hairstyle!"
"No, I don't!" I said with a laugh that I hope was feminine and modest. "I'm just wearing it down."
"Yeah, that's a new hairstyle!"
All through the following conversation, all I could think was, "Oh, my God. He noticed."
And that ends that story.
J
I started wearing my hair down to work a few weeks ago. The first time was because my hair was still wet from the shower. Indian guy complimented me on it and I thought, "Hm." Compliments are nice, people. That was the week R had to switch his shift with another girl. The next week, I wore it down again despite not having wet hair. I admit that I was consciously aware that I wanted R to see me with my hair down and therefore in a potentially more attractive light. Unfortunately, I don't think he noticed because we were so busy that we didn't talk that day.
But today, I wore it down again. He wandered over during the day and said, "You've got a new hairstyle!"
"No, I don't!" I said with a laugh that I hope was feminine and modest. "I'm just wearing it down."
"Yeah, that's a new hairstyle!"
All through the following conversation, all I could think was, "Oh, my God. He noticed."
And that ends that story.
J
I Want to Go Back
I'm on a nostalgic kick. It involves listening to the Twilight soundtrack over and over again and reminiscing about my Twilight days. Year eight me, reciting the blurb with Kim in the little courtyard thing between red and blue (?) block, ordering New Moon off Amazon (my first internet purchase in the entire world) and reading it in a night, bubble wrapping it.
It's funny how these things can define a period of your life in some ways. I kind of hate myself for my behaviour and immaturity in those days but I kind of love myself for it at the same time. There is nothing more joyful than that adolescent obsessive phase. I am glad I got to experience it.
J
It's funny how these things can define a period of your life in some ways. I kind of hate myself for my behaviour and immaturity in those days but I kind of love myself for it at the same time. There is nothing more joyful than that adolescent obsessive phase. I am glad I got to experience it.
J
Friday, October 4, 2013
Change of Tact
I have officially moved on from rom coms. Of course, they will always hold a special place in my heart but it is too hard to find new good ones to watch. I have watched The Host way too many times now and it's not even a rom com. Unless I can get some good recs (I have literally trawled through every list of "top 100 rom coms" on the internet), I'm going to have to cease.
Instead, I have decided to try and read every good chick lit in the world, facilitated, of course, by my new e-reader. It's very overwhelming, having so many potentially good reading materials at my fingertips. I am currently working through this list: http://www.chicklitclub.com/ultimate100.html
And by "working through" this list, I mean I'm currently 14% through one of the books, Jemima J by Jane Green. It is ace of cakes and I am enjoying it. Why is UK chick lit so much better (unless you're Meg Cabot) than US chick lit? I have reason to believe that it is because UK chick lit writers tend to favour the dowdier cousin of the sophisticated, woman-about-town that the US chick lit writer adores. Of course, there is the classic Bridget Jones situation. Perhaps the epitome of the Dowdy Cousin. But there are so many others, likely following the example of Helen Fielding and her humongous-panty-wearing character.
Can we get an amen for Marian Keyes, whom I will always remember as my first foray into "adult chick lit"? Sure, I read the Boy series by Meg Cabot prior to that but I kind of consider those books to cater to teens in many ways. The first Marian Keyes book I read was Anybody Out There? The tears that fell, friends. If you find our high school copy in the middle school library and smell it, you will smell my tears of agony as I read that book many moons ago.
The thing about chick lit is that I can relax when I read it. I don't have to concentrate. I can truly lose myself in the story. I don't have to use brainpower and that is in no way an insult to the art that is chick lit. Because chick lit is an art. It is difficult to write; I have tried. You have to be funny and insightful yet moving and emotional at the right moments (not too many because I hate sappy shit). I ended that foray into chick lit very quickly as I realized that it is a lot more fun to read chick lit than to write it. I do not laugh at my own jokes (mostly because they're not very funny. My chick lit jokes, that is, because my in-person jokes are fucking hilarious. Profitability, anyone?) so there is no joy from writing it.
I can read chick lit for days but I need to take (long) breaks when I read stuff that requires more neurons. Whilst fulfilling, these are not the books of my people. No, the books of my people is the stuff of ladies like Marian Keyes, Meg Cabot, Sophie Kinsella, JANE GREEN and, of course, Helen Fielding. I didn't read Bridget Jones' Diary until two years ago and I both regret and treasure that decision immensely. I have never laughed so hard at a book in my entire life. The movie has nothing on it. The book had my sides aching and urine leaking out of places that urine leaks out of. If I had read that in my younger, more naive days (because I am so worldly and mature now. A woman-about-town, if you will. Also, do people know that reference? I am, of course, referring to Catcher Block of Down with Love fame. Ladies' man, man's man, man about town. If you have not watched that movie, please do. It changed my life), I probably wouldn't have understood all the jokes nor gained as much happiness out of it.
I must bid you adieu now as there is study to be studied (and chick lit to be read). Enjoy the day!
J
Instead, I have decided to try and read every good chick lit in the world, facilitated, of course, by my new e-reader. It's very overwhelming, having so many potentially good reading materials at my fingertips. I am currently working through this list: http://www.chicklitclub.com/ultimate100.html
And by "working through" this list, I mean I'm currently 14% through one of the books, Jemima J by Jane Green. It is ace of cakes and I am enjoying it. Why is UK chick lit so much better (unless you're Meg Cabot) than US chick lit? I have reason to believe that it is because UK chick lit writers tend to favour the dowdier cousin of the sophisticated, woman-about-town that the US chick lit writer adores. Of course, there is the classic Bridget Jones situation. Perhaps the epitome of the Dowdy Cousin. But there are so many others, likely following the example of Helen Fielding and her humongous-panty-wearing character.
Can we get an amen for Marian Keyes, whom I will always remember as my first foray into "adult chick lit"? Sure, I read the Boy series by Meg Cabot prior to that but I kind of consider those books to cater to teens in many ways. The first Marian Keyes book I read was Anybody Out There? The tears that fell, friends. If you find our high school copy in the middle school library and smell it, you will smell my tears of agony as I read that book many moons ago.
The thing about chick lit is that I can relax when I read it. I don't have to concentrate. I can truly lose myself in the story. I don't have to use brainpower and that is in no way an insult to the art that is chick lit. Because chick lit is an art. It is difficult to write; I have tried. You have to be funny and insightful yet moving and emotional at the right moments (not too many because I hate sappy shit). I ended that foray into chick lit very quickly as I realized that it is a lot more fun to read chick lit than to write it. I do not laugh at my own jokes (mostly because they're not very funny. My chick lit jokes, that is, because my in-person jokes are fucking hilarious. Profitability, anyone?) so there is no joy from writing it.
I can read chick lit for days but I need to take (long) breaks when I read stuff that requires more neurons. Whilst fulfilling, these are not the books of my people. No, the books of my people is the stuff of ladies like Marian Keyes, Meg Cabot, Sophie Kinsella, JANE GREEN and, of course, Helen Fielding. I didn't read Bridget Jones' Diary until two years ago and I both regret and treasure that decision immensely. I have never laughed so hard at a book in my entire life. The movie has nothing on it. The book had my sides aching and urine leaking out of places that urine leaks out of. If I had read that in my younger, more naive days (because I am so worldly and mature now. A woman-about-town, if you will. Also, do people know that reference? I am, of course, referring to Catcher Block of Down with Love fame. Ladies' man, man's man, man about town. If you have not watched that movie, please do. It changed my life), I probably wouldn't have understood all the jokes nor gained as much happiness out of it.
I must bid you adieu now as there is study to be studied (and chick lit to be read). Enjoy the day!
J
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Still Into You
The first book to devirginize my e-reader? No regerts, it's The Host by Stephenie Meyer. Fuark, I'm so into it. Like, an embarrassing degree of into-it-ness. I have already cried twice and gasped out loud at least thrice. Screw the cliched dialogue, screw it all. I am so here for this love triangle that tugs at the heartstrings and brings to mind very well developed six packs. The kind of stuff that makes me want to listen to "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons a billion times (as I have).
Breaking Dawn is one of the worst books I have ever read but shit, that lady can write. It's not necessarily world changing, high class, upper crust literary magnificence but it's good. A good book is a good book. Lest we forget.
J
Breaking Dawn is one of the worst books I have ever read but shit, that lady can write. It's not necessarily world changing, high class, upper crust literary magnificence but it's good. A good book is a good book. Lest we forget.
J
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Thrift Shop
I had an argument with my dad the other day about the price of the Kobo e-reader. As you know, I went through a great many hurdles in order to acquire said e-reader (that's electronic reader for the uninitiated. God, I'm so helpful sometimes). A lot of it is because I really, really wanted to buy it at the cheapest price I could. The best possible outcome was $142 (Officeworks + staff discount). The worst possible outcome was $160 (Harvey Norman). I ended up with $153.
My unrelenting dedication to acquiring it for $142 (but then I had to bump my best possible outcome to $153 as it quickly became clear that $142 was just not going to happen) bothered my dad who said all this trouble was not worth the $7 (160 - 153) I wanted to save. Why put myself through this for such a measly sum?
In my head, I know this is logical. $7 is very little in the grand scheme of things. It becomes even more insignificant when making large purchases (as if people buying homes care if the cost is $450 000 or $450 007). But I just keep thinking, "Jeez, that $7 could have bought me xxx."
In my head, I know this is logical. $7 is very little in the grand scheme of things. It becomes even more insignificant when making large purchases (as if people buying homes care if the cost is $450 000 or $450 007). But I just keep thinking, "Jeez, that $7 could have bought me xxx."
In some ways, I think being thrifty is good but I also think I'm probably too thrifty (read: cheap). Maybe it will change when I work full time. My brother, on the other hand, is so unthrifty that it often physically pains me to watch him spend money the way he does. I get a twitchy feeling in my arms and hands that makes me want to grab the money from his hands and put it back into his bank account.
It's very inconvenient.
A good solution to all this would be if I was super rich... but there's the small chance I'd still be just as cheap. That would just be sad.
J
The Good Guy
Do you remember Guy Who I Used to Hate a Lot? In first year uni, I used to bitch incessantly about this guy. Like, "I wish he would fall into a vat of toxic shit and drown in it." Like a burning hatred comparable to a really bad case of vaginal thrush.
I'm with his girlfriend, N, in my FCP tute and she might very well be the sweetest girl in the entire world. This makes me doubt my prior judgement about Toxic Shit Guy because how can someone so wonderful be with someone so toxic and shitty? It occurred to me that I kind of have forgotten why I hate Toxic Shit Guy so much. Is it because he's so blonde and fair that he is mildly albino looking and therefore inherently evil? This logic does not sit well with me because I am very attracted to Paul Bettany who is arguably the closest one can be to albino without actually being albino.
Toxic Shit Guy has actually been very nice to me in the past. He has struck up conversation (and by "conversation," I mean a friendly nod and a word or two in my direction) with me in the past in a friendly manner. A+ on that front considering how prickly my demeanour used to be (that's not to say my demeanour is no longer prickly now but I truly look back and cringe at how I used to behave. That's saying a lot). I still hated him.
It is likely because he was a Big Fish in a Big Pond. He knew everything, answered every question, was the tutor's favourite, was the world's favourite. If I had a dog, he would probably be my dog's favourite. But I must regroup now and reassess my feelings. I am beginning to suspect he is a good guy after all.
J
I'm with his girlfriend, N, in my FCP tute and she might very well be the sweetest girl in the entire world. This makes me doubt my prior judgement about Toxic Shit Guy because how can someone so wonderful be with someone so toxic and shitty? It occurred to me that I kind of have forgotten why I hate Toxic Shit Guy so much. Is it because he's so blonde and fair that he is mildly albino looking and therefore inherently evil? This logic does not sit well with me because I am very attracted to Paul Bettany who is arguably the closest one can be to albino without actually being albino.
Toxic Shit Guy has actually been very nice to me in the past. He has struck up conversation (and by "conversation," I mean a friendly nod and a word or two in my direction) with me in the past in a friendly manner. A+ on that front considering how prickly my demeanour used to be (that's not to say my demeanour is no longer prickly now but I truly look back and cringe at how I used to behave. That's saying a lot). I still hated him.
It is likely because he was a Big Fish in a Big Pond. He knew everything, answered every question, was the tutor's favourite, was the world's favourite. If I had a dog, he would probably be my dog's favourite. But I must regroup now and reassess my feelings. I am beginning to suspect he is a good guy after all.
J
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