Priscilla. A writer, a psychologist wannabe, a student. Hopeless romantic. Pisces. Content.
"The thing to remember is, if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too.” - Katie Bates
title: Reportsss Term 1 reports are out! And I am pretty happy about it. There's that tiny feeling of disappointment about not getting those spectacular marks, but I did well. That's enough for now. And the comments are my favourite part:
"Priscilla performed exceptionally well in the Semester 1 exam (93%). Not only has she demonstrated an excellent understanding of the course material, but she is always on time to class and participates in all activities and discussions." "Priscilla is an intelligent and thoughtful student who is performing well in this course." "Priscilla is a pleasure to have in class. She asks good questions and participates well in activities and discussions. Priscilla is a capable and hard-working student. Her first essay result was good, and shows that she is well on the way to developing important academic skills of written expression and critical analysis." *squee* This is the second time I'm looking at my reports with a smile on my face. Really. I used to be very disappointed when I look at my report in high school. And mind you, I didn't get 93% on any finals in high school. Except maybe English. Now I'm just counting everything and hoping I have the grades to get into Arts. I think I do though, so now I just have to see if I can get enough for a scholarship. It's a really long shot, but I wouldn't know if I don't try, would I? |
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title: Housemates Well so far I've only lived with two, but they're pretty interesting to live with. One girl was from Oman, and she was a character, for lack of better word. She's funny and interesting to talk to, and the different culture contributed to some intriguing conversations. I'd never even consider marrying my cousins, but apparently she's allowed to, even encouraged. Yeah. She was pretty preoccupied with finals for a good portion of the time, and she was quite stressed, but we had some good talk. She's gone back to her home now, and I'm not sure if or when she'll be back. At the moment though, I'm living with a Japanese girl (woman?), Azusa. She's twenty-five - though she looks eighteen to me - and very sweet. She's much better at chopping parsleys than I am, and despite the language barrier, we get along. Trying to understand what she says gets funny sometimes, and I like how she's always taking pictures of things. She wrote a lovely Christmas card for me last December and gave me Japanese snacks, which I loved. I bought her two packs of Lindt's chocolate, which she loved too. She cooks too! And last Sunday she cooked Japanese rice cakes and soy sauce soup for us (see pictures). Did you know every year some people in Japan die from choking on rice cakes? Apparently you have to chew carefully, otherwise it'll get stuck in your throat. I chewed very carefully, and my jaw was pretty stiff in the end. It was quite delicious though. And I wish she didn't have to move so fast. But as it is, I'll be saying goodbye to her two weeks from now. :( There'll be another girl coming - I'm guessing another Japanese - and I hope I'll get along with her like I do with the others. Labels: melbourne |
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title: and the reason is you 'Love and fear. Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other' - Joseph Joubert There's a very good reason why I'm not in a rush to go home. Why is it that everytime I think of my own dad, it's often the latter that takes over me? I think over everything I say before I say it outloud because I'm afraid he'll take it the wrong way and the simple chat would turn into something disastrous. I constantly second guess myself. Would this be good enough? Would he approve? If I say this or do that, would I be good enough? I don't say what I feel because he doesn't understand, never did, and I'm tired of trying. Tired of him lecturing when all I need is a laugh or a bit of consoling. So now I don't talk. Not to him, not to someone who reminds me of him, and not to those I don't know well. Hell, even my best friends don't know everything. The only reason I'd cry here is because of home, but not because of homesickness. I wonder if part of me being happy here is because I'm far from home. News from home don't always soothe me; they worry me more often than not. I feel so much older than eighteen sometimes, and I hate it. I know I'm strong, but not always, and I don't always want to be. I spoke to Linda - my host mum - about how I'm constantly worrying about how he'd react to whatever I tell him, and she said, "I'd think you're self-possessed enough to not let your dad get to you." I wish. Don't get me wrong. I love my dad like every child would. He works hard for us, he makes sure we're well taken care of, and he loves us. But like most children, we don't have the best relationship. I just want to feel like I'm good enough. I don't want to feel like a damn disappointment every other day. That's not too much to ask, is it? "I'm just saying parents screw up. It's what they're good at. They do." - Tibby, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Labels: angst, family, thoughts |
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title: Heatwave It's freaking hot today. 45 degrees. It keeps going up 2 degrees since the first forecast. It was still supposed to be 41 on Saturday. So the water sprayer my host mum gave me for Christmas comes in handy after all. I'm sitting under the fan spraying cool water on my face. XD It helps. Doesn't stop the heat, but it helps. Where's the rain when you need one? Labels: melbourne |
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title: Worth a thousand words "Our lives are made In these small hours These little wonders These twists & turns of fate Time falls away But these small hours These small hours still remain" - Rob Thomas, "Little Wonders" Looking through old pictures and feeling rather sentimental. I finally understand why my dad takes way too many pics sometimes. When you take the pictures, you don't really realize how important they'd be later. All the pictures above were taken just for fun, but now they bring back a lot of memories of the good times I had. I can look at them and remember almost exactly what we were doing at the time, and what we were laughing above. I still laugh at them sometimes. Labels: friends |
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title: Back (to school), Books, and Becky Bloomwood School's in! Never thought I'd be happy about that. =P I loved xmas holiday, but classes aren't bad. The routine of getting up early, doing homework, and squeezing into a rush hour train is the only downside. Really. It's not like high school where I'd stay in bed for an extra five minutes after my alarm goes off wishing it were a Sunday.
But it's not just classes I look forward to. It's my friends. Lunch time and the time inbetween classes when we're planning the weekend and complaining to and pep-talking each other about exams and assignments. That's one of the perks of going to school, isn't it? Assignments, however, aren't one of them. Literature already has us reading a novel, which I'm not really complaining about, except it's not that easy to read. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is the first novel that we have to read this term. The plot? A future without books. Firemen don't put out fire; they set the fire. Guy Montag, the main character, is a fireman who - after an incident - starts to wonder if books are as bad as they thought. My summary's not doing it much justice, but it is quite fascinating. Especially for a bookworm like me; I can't imagine a world where you will get arrested for having a book in your house. Sounds horrific. Believe it or not, I actually bought more books this weekend. One is Meg Cabot's Airhead: Being Nikky, and the other is Second Glance by Jodi Picoult. One light-hearted, the other depressing. I don't know when I'll finish reading them, but I know I want to read them. I've been wanting to read Airhead for a while, so when I saw a copy in St. Andrews market (for $7!), I bought it right away. And my host mum took me to this street with awesome bookshops with the prices far cheaper than Borders, so I couldn't resist getting Second Glance when I saw it. And if you wondered why Becky Bloomwood is in the title, that's 'cause those books, they're not the only things I bought. Me and vintage markets and cheap things = me buying stuff. I felt a bit like Becky (Confession of a Shopaholic - Sophie Kinsella), who simply can't resist a good sale. The difference between me and Becky? I don't go for brands. It's good things under $20 that I can't say no to. From Boxing Day up to Sunday, I've bought skirts, tops, a cardigan, a vest, scarves, a pair of flip-flops, a pair of flats, a belt, a bag, bracelets, a necklace, and an iPod. *blinks* It didn't look that many when I bought them. Though fortunately, unlike Becky, I didn't break the bank. Half of those things I got very cheap in vintage markets and during Boxing Day sale. Besides, I only shopped during that time period, so I actually could splurge. Now that the sales are over, I can turn away from the shops quite happily and focus on homework again. Labels: books, holiday, melbourne, Trinity |
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