Louder than sirens, louder than bells.

My week. Hmm. My week.

I stepped on a small piece of broken glass in bare feet. I realised I most likely won't qualify for a working visa so will have to rely on my wits in Europe. My wounds from the fall I had over a week ago are still healing rather slowly and the scab on my knee just gets grosser. I got downgraded from full time at work to two days a week. I'm not sleeping properly. I owe my parents a lot more money than I am currently making because I was given an hour and a half's notice that I was losing a lot of work. I'm lonely all the time and it's so much more my fault than anything else's because I push everyone away at the worst possible times and then cling to them without explanation.

My mood is refusing to improve. I'm trying, I really am. I have this deep set belief that what you project, good or bad, is what is returned to you in life. So I feel like all of this is happening because I've made mistakes or been cruel or selfish. And I know that if I continue to be negative and nasty and useless that it'll only get worse. It's just so hard to ignore all of the things that are hurting so much right now.

If I was happier and friendlier at work then maybe this would *stop* happening. Maybe they'd find the hours for me. If I could get my teen angst together and get over myself, people would want to hang out with me and I'd want to hang with them and we could enjoy whatever time is left for me here in Melbourne. Maybe I could be more careful with my body and my mind and the hurts would stop finding me so easily.

It's all about hope, really. Every single terrible thing that happens, and every single great thing too. All that is present in my life right now and all that is coming. I'm trying to process and articulate experiences with that in mind.

And at the end of it all, you're waiting there in my head. Like a shadow standing in this ambiguous doorway that I want to be ready to step through but aren't yet. I want to come with you but I need to find you properly first. I've never been sure about you, of who you really are, but I know you're perfect for me. Or perfect for who I plan to be. When I've evolved enough, sorted all this out- sorted me out- I want us to be together. Whatever that means. Wait for me. Or find me first?

We're still holding hands through a catflap, aren't we?

I had my tarot read last night and it was beautiful. It was frightening and mysterious and confusing. For what it was, it was beautiful.

I also learnt about Buddhism, meditation and the inner lives of two of my good friends.

It's too soon to talk about it. It was too soon last night and I don't know when I'll be ready. But I want to be ready. A lot happened yesterday, the details of which I can't really articulate. But it was magical in a really melancholy, unexpected way.

Today I simply recovered from everything I discovered last night.

Please destroy me this way.

You told me we shouldn't talk and it's the last thing I want but I'm doing it. And now you're everywhere in my head and this isn't new or unexpected. I'm trying so hard to let you go because I truly believe it's what you want. But is it possible I'm doing something wrong there, too? I hope not. I hope you're well. I love you, always, regardless of what I say or write to contradict that statement. Really.

I fell.

So now I'm off work and sitting on my bed, alone, since Trina left me happier than I can remember being in some time. We had tea, ate too much cake and she gave me a lot of gifts, some physical and some not. One was a book. Another was the realisation that there is hope. For her, especially, and for me also. I'm $120 poorer for staying home today but I don't feel it.

I think I will make dinner for my mother tonight. She's been impressing people for almost a month now and I think it's exhausting her. I need her to know she is loved here, too, though maybe not so blindly. I think that's better, really, and I hope she does too.

Shame is the shadow of love.

It's the morning of Australia Day and the air in my neighbourhood smells distinctly like burning. It makes me wrinkle up my nose but I'm sure other people associate the scent with barbeques. I hope it makes them smile.

I was disgusted the other day to realise that I have unwittingly accrued a slight tan this summer. How I did that I can't be sure but it's disappointing nonetheless. Thank goodness I'll be in England soon enough where, try as it might, the weather can't affect people's skin. Only their moods. Last night my neighbour talked to me about how when he was in England people went to the pub at lunchtime during winter in order to offset the boredom and loneliness they felt walking home from work in the dark later in the day. I wondered if he knew that I see so many people in the city doing that all the time while the sun still shines brightly overhead for the entire day and most of the night. What's our excuse?

I want to feel patriotic but it is a feeling I'm not entirely familiar with. The things I am proud of in this country are present in basically every other culture in the world, somewhere, and that's what I focus on when I think about things in this world that are beautiful and worth celebrating and fighting for. That being said, I am thankful for a country that gives me public holidays on which I can sleep in and catch up on reading and thinking and cooking. And I am thankful for a country that gives me the privileges I need in order to get organised for a long overseas trip. Right now I am mostly thankful for a country that is gracious enough to let me leave it and come back whenever I want.

I feel guilty for missing those who've left me so very much. I shouldn't want them back so badly, I should stop daydreaming about when they return. They will come back and I should be gracious and wish them well on their own adventures. They're travelling the world and discovering themselves and doesn't that sound like a familiar desire? And yet I count the seconds until they're back with me and I can claim them as my person, my friend. Don't cling so hard, Hannah, or they just might squeeze through the gaps in your fingers like sand. I stare at their postcards, pinned up on my cubicle wall at work, and imagine them. They exist only in my mind right now and, hell, that is a crazy place. Come home, guys. Please? I need you to be real so I can hug you and- I promise- let you go.

Today is waffle day, I've decided. So I'm going to go and eat my feelings. Try not to miss me too much, 'kay?

Someone to share this love with.

Sometimes I think I completely understand relationships and other times I know I have absolutely no idea.

I have no social skills but I love hugs. I like human contact. I like jokes with people and laughing too hard at things. I love when you're close enough to someone that tears don't make it awkward but can be shared and understood.

I am trying to navigate my way through the different sorts of humans you come into contact with in the different sorts of ways on the different sorts of days. Quiet people. Boisterous people. People who are talkative one day and silent the next. Or those who like you one day and don't the next.

Workmates. Friends. Family. Friends of friends.

I feel like I'm drowning sometimes when I'm too tired or inexperienced to know how to talk to people. Even when I'm treading water and getting along with people; I know that it's only a couple of words, the wrong tone, the way I look a little bit confused at something that was said...

How do you make it work? Find people to complete you and the person you're trying to be, round out your projection of self? I wish I knew how to feel secure around people but ultimately that sort of security is an illusion.

Improvement is the ultimate goal in anything in life so relationships have to be a part of that. Evolution of friendships is necessary, I suppose. We have to feel lost and unsure around each other in order for that progress to occur, in order to get closer or even to find new, better companions than those we can't seem to relate to no matter how hard we try.

I have to believe that feeling of insecurity has a purpose. Otherwise I'm just inept. I prefer to think this way, that love and friendship and understanding are achievable only through uncertainty and that through that uncertainty we can feel bonded with one another. Our angst and worry and little failures- with people and communication and relating to each other- all lead to a better future where we are happy and loved better for all of our fear and pain.

And if I'm wrong... well, I'd prefer that you didn't tell me.

Kiss me goodbye.

Some stuff I forgot to write in the late hours of last night or didn't feel comfortable bringing up online until nowish.

Watched Glee the other night and it made me cry for the first time. That show don't normally hit so many soft spots at once but this episode went all out. Maybe it was also the lack of sleep I had the night before or the emotional stuff that follows neurotic teenage girls like me around. The reason behind conspicuously casting so many minorities in lead roles became clear around the same time Kurt and his Dad had me blinking furiously and saying "it's just hayfever" through my sleeve.

I guess I'm a little overemotional for other reasons, also. I could resist explaining because writing this stuff in a blog is like yelling "You're making a scene! I can't believe you're doing this in public! People are listening!" on a crowded train or something. But what the hell.

It's probably difficult to discover this, what with my amazing powers of disguise, but I'm a highly insecure, neurotic, extra-strength crazy person. As such, when people just disappear from my life or grow distant, I stop talking and get paranoid and just all-around hurt. Never mind that I can often treat other people like they don't matter without breaking a sweat. Avoid my questions or stop saying "hey" to me frequently and I lose it. But I don't tend to move closer to people and try to discover why they hate me all of a sudden. Because, obviously, it's all about me and has very little to do with them. Instead, I hide behing nonchalance and then get flabbergasted when they say "I thought you didn't care anymore". What gave you that impression?

Well, my amazing skillz with people have brought me some great rewards lately. Not the least of which is two friends being deeply unhappy while I'm nowhere to be seen. Obviously dealing with the much larger issue of why neither of them trust me enough to open up. Those selfish bitches. How could they do this to me?

...basically, I'm blogging about being a teenage girl. Tune in next time, folks, for more excitement. Blerg.

I am not your consolation prize.

Watching one of my favourite movies ever, When Harry Met Sally. It's an irrational love, really (although I think pretty much all love is irrational; delightfully so) but I honestly just adore it. I love the humour. I love the softness of Meg Ryan's face when she delivers all her love-y lines. I love that Baker bought me the film's soundtrack for my birthday this year. I love the humour of the film and how it always makes me laugh even though I must know every word of dialogue off-by-heart already.

I went to World Vegan Day celebrations today with Julia. We bought foodz (lots)and were accosted by a couple of wacky, overzealous stall attendants (and some pretty cool ones). Coconut chocolate vegan ice-cream! Good day. And Julia's heaps of fun. We've gotten pretty tight pretty quick, and we keep just hanging out on a moment's notice at really cool places and having a great time. It's like dating except we're friends. Friend dating! Yeah, I'm still a little high on the sugar from today and the happiness of WHMS.

But I should hop to it 'cause Kat'll be here soon and we're going to have an awesome dinner involving hummus, yummy bread and vegies. Yes, I know; five hundred free samples, a buffet lunch and a large serving of ice-cream later and I'm still hungry. Go figure.





Oh, and because I forgot to post it last time, this is from Friday night:

Heard:

"I'm going to smoke... at you... later." - Maddee

'Cause you're hot then you're cold.

So I went to the Prom on Friday night with a really pretty girl. The best friend, of course. She wore a bright pink dress and her hair was rather big which was perfect due to the '80s theme. I was dressed as a sort of bastardised Madonna which, unfortunately, will be recorded forever on in some horrible photos. But it was a great time and I'm really glad we went. It's the first Uni related event I've been to which is rather pathetic seeing as I'm over three quarters of the way through my first year.

Speaking of, I have now officially applied twice for a Leave of Absence from second year. So next year I am no longer a Uni student, I am simply Hannah. And hopefully I can be simply me in the northern hemisphere for a decent chunk of that year. Everyone is laughing at me right now, with my wacky travel plans. I wish I could put a 'but' at the end of that but I can't. I'm laughing at me too. I'ma go anyway though. We'll see how I do when I try to be impulsive.

There are some people I am missing a lot. I've been busy lately but they're who I think of whenever I have time. Even when I don't. They make a lot of things easier just by being around. When they're not there I feel myself crumbling around the edges a little bit. And when they come back I feel things come back together. It sounds melodramatic but being with them, holding them, talking to them; it reminds me of who I am. Mainly because they're the kind of people who would never forget. That's how you get better; you spend time with people who are better. And my people are ... well, they're the best. I miss you all.

I'm surrounded by your embrace.

The obsession with Glee continues. The show just fills me with sunshine. I am sort of a closet optimist, even after graduating high school, and it gives me hope for the sort of happiness achievable for young people. It reminds me a bit of when Book Club was nice. But that's a story for another time.

So work friends were teasing me about my non-existent boyfriend the other day (the bearded, biker one who I'm going to Europe with after meeting him a week ago) and I started thinking about the important men in my life. I can literally count them on one hand. I can't help if going to a girls' school and lacking interest in guys who can't string a sentence together (which is about 75% of them after the age of 13) means I don't really know many people of the opposite sex very well.

Two of my best friends are guys, but they've been around for so long that they don't really have a gendered aspect when I consider them as companions. Like my long term female friends, they're just friends. The only good use for boy friends as opposed to just friends is that boy friends are taller than I am which is more than I can say for most of my lady pals. Which is handy when I feel like leaping into their arms in an aggressive hug. Perhaps I should reconsider how often I do that? Hmm. Nah. Nick and Baker feel like home by now, though. Hugging them is like lounging on my couch. Just something comforting I like to do when I need some rest.

And then there's dear old Dad. He's easy to get along with half the time and excruciatingly difficult the rest of the time. But then, so am I. He was already forty when I was born so he got something of a jump start on the grumpy old man thing people find so frustrating/adorable in later life. I kind of like that, due to my older sister, my father was a Grumpa while I was still in high school. That being said, it also explains his persistent irritability and random acts of generousness associated with kindly older relatives.

It is a bit odd that these are the only men I spend any real time with. But what do I need more for? I figure there's no reason to create a need. If I meet someone awesome enough the need will just sort of form itself. Adolescence is coming to a close for me, I'm travelling next year and I'm sure all of my neuroses and prejudices are just waiting for the right Mr. Darcy (or Wickham, even) to break them down.

I mean, who says men and women can't be friends?

I wouldn't belong to any club that would have me as a member.

So there's this Creative Writing Club that my friend Krystal started ages back where she invites people over to her place and, allegedly, they talk about creative projects (not just writing but photography, songwriting, painting etc). I don't normally go but last time I did (and brought a new friend; Andrea) and it was splendid. Didn't really relate, whatsoever, to projects or pieces we had created. It was, however, very constructive in its own way.

For one, Julia made around five kinds of delicious treats (the most scrumptious, in my humble opinion, being vegan chocolate cheesecake. Then again, I wasn't around to try the fondue). We all just chatted, watched youtube videos and got to know each other (a unique gift of Krystal's being the ablity to put a whole lot of- mostly- strangers together in a room and get them chatting like friends in about three minutes). We didn't get to the writing stuff but I figure we have plenty of time for that. Because, yes, I really do plan to go again. I had a lovely evening (and this was it).





I guess I've been behaving a little out of character lately. Hannah, the I'm only when it happy when it rains girl, seems to be coping with an existent social life. I liked the other night because there was no drinking; no pretense; no pretend maturity or coolness (I know my use of the word 'coolness' indicates just how little 'cool' I possess myself). This is the sort of thing I want to spend my time doing, if I'm not going to do what was expected of me and become a hermit. There isn't really a punchline to this one, guys, just someone who thinks; If this is friendship, and being 'social', well, I guess I'll stay for cake.


What? You know what they say. That Hannah; she's a marshmallow.

I get by with a little help.

So I'm coming up on three quarters of the way through the academic year. University's been, well, rather neutral to me. One thing I can boast about, though, is the great friends I have accrued.

Krystal gives me hugs with sides of cuddles. We bonded over steaming plates of dhal. No joke. And in a few measly weeks she was a substantial part of the highlight of my day (it's divided into sections, see). Another decent chunk of said highlight is Michelle, who I've written about before. Who will I share a slice of citrus cake with when she's not around? Not to forget Maddee, who I still owe about two point four Woody Allen films at my place. Preferably while eating chocolate pudding. Oh, plus the beautiful Olle who is incredibly patient with me on the dance floor even though I am so unco-ordinated I might just, literally, bring him down to my level (...my level being the floor. Get it? Get it?) Oh, and Natty who gets frustrated with me for telling her she's like Cassie from Skins ("No, she's a nutter!) but is still the sweetest British chick I've ever met. Daphne, Little Miss anti-Chatterbox who takes six weeks to speak up in out Literature tutorial and stuns the room with her musings on Sylvia Plath. Aha, I also just recalled how when I gave her a birthday cupcake she messaged me later to say "thanks" for the fifth time. I also met Shelley's best friend, Bree, by accident outside a lecture and discovered how much we have in common; from our love/hatred for the Twilight series to our test scores.

Basically this post is about bragging. Check out all the awesome people I get to hang out with in exchange for the wankerous, stressful, ridiculous, wonderful situation that is an Arts degree at University. It's been less than a year but they seem to make everything worth it. Scratch that. They definitely make everything worth it.

That's the way it is in Minnesota.

I guess the idea of not revealing personal information online is kind of ridiculous, especially in a blog. What do I write about if not the personal? And if I'ma start with the personal, I suppose I better write about the uber personal as well.

I blew off a party last night partially due to schoolwork. But that's not fair; I don't spend enough time doing schoolwork for that to be a valid excuse. I didn't go because sensitive, heterosexual males trust me too much.

But I digress. I spent the day trying to study and failing. So around the time it started getting dark (which is around 4, admittedly) I decided I couldn't be bothered going. There are too many things to deal with there. A friend I haven't seen in a month or so who at the best of times is awkward with me. Another friend who got dumped by a long term partner recently and needs some support from little old me. Too bad I'm emotionally bankrupt and unwilling to deal with the - quite reasonable- need for a friend right now. And then there's the final friend.

I've met one just like him recently. Someone who likes the look of me, befriends me and learns to trust me more than is humanly natural within a very short space of time. I mean, of course the feelings are reciprocated but that doesn't change how perilous it is. I'm great fun, sure, when all you want from me is friendship. I guess that's all I can say. To all the heterosexual male friends I have out there; don't want anything else from me. Don't see me as your only confidante, the only one you can trust, strangely perfect in a completely unattractive but safe sort of way.

So I blew off the party. And tried to keep studying, failed and then didn't sleep.