Emotions, feelings…

Her off beat dance makes me fantasise

I’ve been missing for over two whole weeks now. And to be honest I have noooo idea where those two weeks of mid-semester break went!  I hate how that always happens to me – making plans in my head about how I’m going to spend my short holidays, and have it whiz past without me having achieved much, if anything at all. I hope I’m not the oooonly person that does that? I think a lot of it can be attributed to me simply wanting to fully relax after such a wound-up 5 first weeks of university.

Actually, to call it mid-semester break is highly misleading. There’s two more weeks in this ‘half’ than prior the break – because they’d aligned it with the Easter weekend, grr! I thought I had it baaad last half, it’ worse now. Crunch time. But I’ll try my best to keep blogging, because all of my pent up stuff isn’t really helping.

At the moment I have so many mixed feelings. Whilst I do not regret having chosen to major in Jazz instead of Law, I guess my tertiary pathway isn’t exactly soothing all the doubts and worries of “what happens after?”, etc. Also, in terms of the more pressing changes in my life that will be coming up in the next few months:
1/ I will be 19 in one month and two days. I’m not excited. At all. I don’t want to be in my last year of being a teenager! Not to mention it will be during the height of my stressful days.
2/ In June/July during semester break our family’s going on holiday to Australia. Whilst that just sounds like fun and games, it’s just really going to lead to a messed up denouement at the end of it (I reaaaaally shouldn’t think like this!) becaaauuuseeee…
3/ My younger sister is moving to Malibu, in the great City of Angels to attend Pepperdine University. I’m not ready to see her off (and she’s nervous as hell to leave as well), nor live in a house alone with my mother, and have 4 family members in 3 different countries. It sounds downright selfish and pig-headed, but I somehow feel as if I’d be happier if I were the one leaving home first, rather than feel like I’m left behind?

Oh shit, I don’t know.

One good thing of the day: I did my best ever solo in Improv class today. And trust me, it still wasn’t great, but my lecturer (also my bass teacher) and I are both glad to hear that I am making some progress. Albeit slooow and painful. But it’s progress nonetheless!

Friend’s EP Release gig this Saturday night. I shall be less gloomy!

P.S. Lottie – this blog title is just for you, and so is this “P.S.”
xx

It’s cold outside and the paint’s peeling off of my walls

It’s awfully frustrating but I’ve been home sick with a sinus/throat infection for the past two days. I’m not exactly better, but I’m going to make myself go to uni tomorrow, just because there’s so much work to be done, aaaaaand tomorrow night I will be photographing The Dead Weather’s concert at the Powerstation! So for that, I will be forcing myself out of bed at 6.30am to catch the ferry in the cold, and resume daily routines until my evening of adrenalin-fueled excitement… just there mere thought of shooting Jack White and Alison Mosshart… ahhh she’s so sexy, I wish I could be her. Now, I don’t usually do the whole adoration, omg-I-want-to-be-you-you’re-my-idol thing, so this is saying a lot.

Anyway, all that just means there is guaranteed eye candy on here later this week. But what I really wanted to blog about was writing. The photos in this post shows my stack of 10 extra-large postcards that I wrote whilst on the 89th (I think?) floor of the Taipei 101 last month. For some strange reason, it made me feel reaaaally dizzy to look out the windows that day, and after about 15 minutes of feeling nauseous I gave up and resorted to becoming a spectacle at the postcard-writing benches. Appaaaarently my postcard writing efforts were enough to warrant a small crowd of Chinese tourists that decided to watch, look over my shoulder, and I swear a flash of light indicated someone (other than my friend who took these) had taken photos! The only real downside to writing on such huge postcards – asides from a sore hand, since I hadn’t written by hand at all since Nov/Dec exams – was the fact that it turned out the postage cost per postcard ended up costing more than the postcard itself. Absoluuute faaaailure. But I was glad to find out that everyone who received one was happy to be surprised by a shiny big postcard from me.

I’ve gone compleeetely off topic though. What I’d wanted to say was that, after two days of milling around at home doing next to nothing (I did practise upright bass for half an hour… but standing that long made me dizzy, boo), I concluded that I miss writing things. I don’t know where my know-all red notebook has gone. The one with pages crumpled by tears or torn our of rage. The one I wrote my most traumatic heartbreaks or ecstatic achievements in. And worse still, lately I’ve been feeling like my blog is a bit hollow. Towards the end of last year, I’d been shooting gigs or something of the sort virtually every week – so my blog entries became based around those. I never really blogged about anything controversial because I prefer those debates in person, with people I can interact with immediately. Nor have I sought advice via my blog, unlike many bloggers out there. So this left me thinking – what the heck does my blog consist of?! Well heck, I still haven’t answered it. But I think I’ll try to write more. More often. I can’t believe this has been a habit of mine for over half a decade.

A perfect circle

Tuesday 1st December, 2009: First day of the last month of my final year.

For months and months I’d been anticipating December 1st. No, for once it wasn’t for the birthday bash of my best mate, but rather, for my 7th form sign out day – my last day in uniform, ever – followed by Graduation Dinner. Not only did this signify the end of all college exams and last minute cramming for the year, but it also brought an end to five, often long and tedious years spent at Macleans College. Surprisingly, well, actually in all brutal honesty, I know myself better than this so it wasn’t really surprising to have found myself spending the day in numb frustration. I was sad to be leaving, but only because I’ve been so used to the comfort zone and safety bubbles that I’d built up around me at school: the daily routine of classes and socialising that I had become accustomed to and can execute in zombie mode all day, everyday, all year. But it’s for that same reason (and many, many more) that I have been more than ready for leave for over the past couple of years. I’ve been tired of the same surroundings, the same (many not-so-likeable) people, the uptight school rules, the chore of upholding my “prefect status” and trying to be some kind of role model to juniors who mostly don’t care. Speaking of surroundings though, I will admit that, whilst I often took the picturesque sea-view from school for granted at times, and often cursed it as the reason the billowing wind during winter was so brutally lethal, I don’t think I could have attended a school with a better setting. Most people don’t get to sit perched on a hill in the middle of a reserve, in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods everyday!

On that note, I think I’ll end my sentimental train of thoughts, I don’t think that I will fully deal with the change until it actually hits me once university starts next year. I have a lot of regrets… no wait, that’s probably not the best word, but in the sense that, people are right when they say things like “in ten years time it’s not the things you did that you will regret, but the things you didn’t do”, or something along the lines of… I can’t remember the exact, more eloquent phrasing! Anyway, there are definitely things that I wish that I’d done, or had done differently, but I guess that would ultimately have made me a completely different person, and I’m not too sure how well that would work out, haha.

Here are some photos from each setting on the big night:

Colin was generous enough to offer the services of his spare lounge for our pre-grad. Not surprisingly, everyone’s looking pretty glum. I think most people with either extremely hyper (definitely not us lot), or were feeling pretty out of it, tired, and generally just wanted to get through the evening unscathed by any huge pangs of “OMG SENTIMENT!”

This picture shows Sinead hijacking the background of me and Freddy… A bit of organisation later we were on the ferry into the city. It seemed the most social option, so we didn’t have to split into cars, beg parents for rides, etc, and at $4.40 it wasn’t so bad… until we got off the ferry and decided not to split a 10minute taxi fare, instead deciding to make the 4-block uphill trek on foot. Now usually I’m not one to complain about walking, but when the only black heels you own are about 4 inches high and also have a platform, my feet didn’t like me so much that day. Plus it was hot and humid, and showing up sweaty was really, really unattractive.

I must say, the good at Grad Dinner was a thouuuusand times better than that at the ball. And the dessert too, for that matter. I actually ate both slices of cheesecake! Though, as you can see here, I left my cardigan on for much of the evening. My Topshop dress is lovely, but I hadn’t really wanted to wear it to Grad since it’s very low cut at the back (as well as the front, for that matter, forcing me to break my arm-folding habit for the evening) and I didn’t really feel like it was that most appropriate.

And last, the true highlight of the evening = getting tipsy down at O’Hagan’s on the viaduct. Thankfully I have a lovely mother with a distrust of taxis, so offered to pick me up at any hour, drunk or sober. Me and three friends decided that mum’s transport offer was a huge ask already, and her having to wake up at 6.30am was just brutal, so we didn’t stay out too late and got home at 2am. Needless to say, I crashed without sparing a thought of taking a shower that night.

A boy in the bush is worth two in the hand, there’s more to life you know

It’s like nothing much has happened, but so much as. I can’t figure out why. I’m emotionally, intellectually, physically pulled in opposing directions.

These pics were snapped on my friend David’s macbook. Some are old, some were from yesterday. That thing is gorgeous. And his new iphone pet… if anyone commits a robbery at his house I’m sure it won’t be hard to find the culprit…

I bused into town to find David at the university and we hung out all day. I’ve been hiding in my room for the past two weeks since study leave started, and I no longer know what day it is, nor can I tell day apart from the night. Went to both of my exams this week on 2 hours of sleep – history went shockingly, I got really unlucky with the questions – but economics was better that I could’ve hoped for given how much i despise and regret taking it… as well as my lack of studying. Just going to brace myself and hope for the best, it’s too late now. Luckily I don’t need to sit any exams for university entrance; in fact I sometimes regret not having dropped out thus not having to fork out for exam costs. AS exams are $65 and A levels are $95 a pop! Not to mention NCEA was $75… it wasn’t pleasant. All the less so when my parents joked that I should’ve indeed dropped out and just gone on a nice long holiday. Yikes.

At the moment I just want the next three weeks to be over. Monday is my uni audition for jazz, then I have my remaining exams – after which I will definitely be living it up. A friend and I have decided we’re going to embark on a trip to Japan and Taiwan together. He’s studied Japanese for five years, and despite my mother, I still can’t speak it for yonks. We’re looking forward to the hilarity of when Japanese people start talking to me, but it’s the white boy that understands, translates, then replies! I’ve decided that will be one of the things I seek to achieve this summer: try and learn some Japanese. I know the reaaally bare-boned basics and I can guess every other word, but that’s about it.

Was talking about tides of people the other day. About how we always seem to have a ‘drought’, only to next be bombarded with too many options the next thing you know. So many people I know right now are "looking for someone", wanting to be in a relationship. I really don’t understand that. Why do 18-20 year olds want to be ‘on the prowl’? It’s not like we’re approaching our later 20s, approaching 30s that life cycles and society tells us we "need someone". I understand loneliness, and trust me I hate it too, but the entire "relationship" thing sends me running. It’s so hard… how do you strike a balance with having fun, but not getting too carried away? Some chemistry and connections you just cannot deny – but so what?

What am I entitled to?

I’m a ridiculously multi-faceted person, and my personality is split in so many ways I often get asked "where did [the other] Amanda go?" I’m young and I’m allowed to get out and be who I want, do what I like, but I don’t want to be a heartbreaker. Metronomy’s "Heartbreaker" and "A Thing For You" remind me of things that go flying around me often. A juxtaposing state but it somehow works. There always seems to be some kind of drama. Something stirring. I seem unable to remain still, leave the waters alone. It’s as if I’d be bored or boring without it. It’s ironic, the people I’m most interested in are the ones who hold no interest for me. This is, on all levels. Not just in a romanticised point of view, but even just as people. I feel like I want to befriend the people who seem to have only some thin common thread with me – nothing at all in my comfort zone… but it keeps them interesting?

I want to extend my horizons, I will not be stuck here forever.

Exotic,
you’re chaotic,
his bassic distraction all night.
What are you?
The intimate
ambiguous delight.

Neurotic,
your melodic
words are attractive(a trap to)
his soul(sole)
Emotion; make me the blame.

I am trying to be heroic in an age of modernity

Somewhere amidst my current state of hayfeverish nose-blowing and nose-bleeding, I’ve been having a pretty reckless week. Kicking off Monday morning with Stage Band practise instead of hockey training for a change, we were hyped to attend the KBB Music Festival in town this week – it’s my 5th, and last.

All term I’ve been resentful towards school and agreeing with fellow cynical 7th formers who say that they “won’t be missing” college – and to a large extent, I now realise that I haven’t been completely lying. Maybe it’s because it’s midnight and I tend to get quite wordy and analytical at this time of day (or night, should I say… but it’s day to me, but more on that later), but I suddenly realise that the only place I will truly miss is probably the music department at school. As much grief, frustration and angry tears it has brought me in the past half a decade (good god, did I just say half a decade?!), it’s the one place outside my bedroom that I have spent the most collective time at. Trust me, I wish I was exaggerating when I say that, this Monday alone, I spent 6 hours at music at school: that’s two hours more than I had slept the night before.

For the first time in 4 years I changed my stage band attire – our uniform is basically black, black, and more black, with a gold and maroon waistcoat, but for once I didn’t wear jeans and wore a skirt instead. Mr. Bolley asked where my blazer was from because he thought it was part of some uniform, but I had just decided to wear it instead of the hoodies that everyone else had worn into town for KBB since it suited better (below, right… it looks quite posey, but truth be told I wasn’t looking at the camera because I’d just woken up from the long car ride home). The other picture is of an outfit I put together at the last minute a couple of weeks ago for a gig I photographed. It’s not a very “outfit picture” though, and I don’t even have my long socks and boots on, but I thought I’d just mention that the shirt I’m wearing is actually a dress! Although ironically, I’ve ever worn it out as a dress yet, but I think it looks better like this. You can’t see it in the picture, but I had to tie a black ribbon making the straps meet in the middle, since it was a low back, and very loose, low cut dress.

I’m still quite sketchy on their decision to relocate the festival at the Aotea Centre instead of at the Auckland Town Hall this year; in fact I have yet to find out as to why they did that at all, but the acoustics in the Aotea Centre simply pales in comparison to the Town Hall. The only upside I can think of, is that all the schools have much more storage space for instruments, cases and other gear – but for two days in a row now we’ve been assigned to level 5, which is a bitch of a tramp up the stairs with a bass case/amplifier! We were sneaky for Concert Band today and managed to dodge the event co-ordinators and snag rides upstairs in the lift, yay!

So I mentioned before that I get quite wordy during the late hours, on Sunday night (the reason I slept so little), I used my inspiration to churn out lyrical words as a means of procrastinating from finishing an English assignment. I wrote quite a fair bit, but here are just some snippets; none of them are titled (yet), and I find that phrasing/emjambment/punctuation seems to be a big aspect of things I write. If I ever put music to them, though, there are some lines/words that I will definitely change and rephrase:

The last thing I wrote that night, my personal highlight:
The navy curtains disguise the time of day
Or night, we are uncertain,
It’s been so long since we left.
A room once so small and empty
The hollowness of a house, not home,How did things change the tone?
Candles won’t bring us romance,
But the closed white door a privacy
And in here, a silent intimacy.

This is only the second half, I’ve omitted the first part because in hindsight, it really sucks:
I will leave because you say
so, I will leave
Not of my own accord.
I will leave because you say,
So I will leave.

I’m not too sure where this came from, it was mostly spurned from the first couple of lines:Whatever happened to indifference?
Your sun-stained chest
Makes me cringe that you
Want her berry-kissed lips on you.
Since when could I not keep
A small cup of coffee steady
It would be easier than easy
To shed this on her lap.

What happened to “go with the flow”?
Now I’m looking up maps for directions
It’d be easier if I knew where we were heading
But what a bore that’d be.
And if my only desire is to
Fulfill your desire too
How my paltry needs
Will kill the “me and you”.

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