the cassingle revival
Profile
20 years old, a blog held from the age of 16, Australia, girl, young adult problems and resolutions, an honest and dry look at myself learning to be a better, bigger, happier person, artist, photographer.
Trying to find my place in the world, a career, a family, to move on from the hectic world of the Bartender.
Archive
Thursday, 28 April 2011, 11:15 pm
blah blah blah oh, wake up, blog.
So I'm a maladjusted, sooky, lovesick, food-obsessed, crass, daddy-issued, vegan, learning, soft-hearted coming adult. I'm starting a blog because I like journals, but I'm also forward moving, so a digital journal is perfect. I'm also an exhibitionist. Excellent. This is my attempt at becoming more self aware.
When I was growing up, it was just mum and I against the world. All my sympathiest are with her. She's a good woman, she works hard and she brought me up to a loose end. By that I mean, she never did teach me how to be anything. She didn't try and teach me religion, or morals, or right or wrong. She didn't teach me about boys, or life, or give me any worldly pieces of advice. She did, however, provide me with freedom, uncapped choices, financial help, and a bitter taste in my mouth of men.
So I grew up fairly unopinionated. But very narcissistic. My childhood cockiness came from other family members, who treated me like a princess, and still have me on a very tall pedestal.
Actually, as a girl with current self-esteem issues, I can think back to where they started. I don't remember much about my childhood except that animals were my friends. Dogs loved me, horses did too. I loved dogs and horses - right back. But my favorite animal? The pigeon. As a toddler and child living in the desert, I had a dove who didn't leave my side. She was a fan-tail love. One day, mum decided she didn't like my best friend anymore and let her go. She came back. She let her go again and I think an eagle got her. That was my first experience with loss that I remember. I loved that dove.
We then moved to Sydney. A bit of a change, but I adapted well (as a 6 year old does) to the city. I liked the cars and people, the school I went to was prestigious and I got good grades. I liked school. I remember once I brought a dead bird to show and tell - I don't know what I was trying to achieve, but I achieved it. The teachers threw out the bird much to my dismay and questioning, and called my mother. Another time, which I remember well, was the time the cafeteria lady took me to the principle for supposably flipping her off. I don't think I even knew the gesture as a 6-year old, but she was convinced. I don't know quite how I weeded myself out of that.
I remember the first website I ever visited. It was the website for the candy "NERDS." I remember the computer I was sitting at, and looking at the back of the box of the candy trying to precicely type out the URL in the address bar during a lesson when we were learning about Pluto.
I was also a fat child.
I'm now an average shaped teenager.
I'm not thin, or skinny, or exceptionally built or curvy, but I have a pretty face, lovely long wavy hair, and green eyes. My skin darkens well, I know how to present myself, and in general, I'm fairly happy with the way I look in the mirror. On most days. Sometimes, when I'm having a down day, I think about how I'm a bartender, and that generally boosts my mood.
I lost a lot of weight at age 16, the same age I lost my virginity.
It was an unspectacular weightloss. From 96kg to 59kg over a period of a year and a half. Less food in my face, more time off my ass. Similiarly, the loss of my virginity was pretty unspectacular. It wasn't my first time realising sex existed, but it was the first time I realised I find it very difficult to say no.
I like studying.
I like the feeling of working towards something.
It's comfortable.
Sometimes I feel like I need to volunteer, or find God, or find a career.
Sometimes.