Thursday, December 31, 2009
Filling out my diary
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Excuse me whilst I self- assess
- Don't be gay Vee.
- Shut up, I'm thinking here.
What is the meaning of a friend?
When I was young, this confused me and I guess it still sometimes baffles me today. Currently, I find that the word friend has sometimes a varied definition, which is often open to interpretation and gets thrown around a lot in a way which is easy to take for granted. Like love, in a lot of ways.
I think of this as I'm coming down from the buzz of merriment I have experience from spending the entire day with a large group of people that I have not seen in years. People whom I have referred to as my friends, and will still continue to do so despite not having any regular form of contact with them. So what does it mean to be a friend?
Not meaning to blow smoke up my own arse here, but I have considered myself to be a good friend. I certainly try to be. I hold my friendships very close to my heart, as to me they are an important part of my life and, in a strange way, a small part of who I am. If my friends aren't right, I'm not right. This empathy may seem a bit strange, but I have always been acutely sensitive in that way, and I don't know if it will ever stop.
I mentioned that when I was younger, the understanding of what it meant to be a friend was somewhat skewed. In my youth, I found myself be-friended by two people who held onto me like a personal possession of theirs for a number of years. Two separate cases, but both contained the same behaviours and consequent outcomes. To these people, friendship was a different world all together. It came with a set of rules that must be followed. I was only to talk to certain people whom my friend approved of. I was to never go anywhere without my friend on weekends unless it was a family event and they strictly were not invited. If I were to talk to someone my friend did not approve of, I was to explain myself and make amends for it. Needless to say, these were intense experiences, which gave me a rather warped perception of friendship.
Being a rather solitary person by nature, I never really mind being alone, but I also don't mind the company of others. Throughout time, I have come to rather enjoy being around friends and the laughter and experiences that I have shared with people who have come and gone through out my life. I also have managed to establish a second family of sorts with my best friends from high school, whom I don't see enough of, but always keep in touch with. Additionally, in recent years, I have developed a new found appreciation for my friends, as I've come to realize just how much I rely on so many of them, and how much of an effect they have had on me. Because of them, I know I will never be alone.
On a different level all together, we have MySpace and Facebook, which have stamped their own definition and meaning of what it is to be a friend.
MySpace and Facebook have been deemed as a "social" forum. Recently, a move on Facebook has been made urging us to "connect" with certain people that we have not 'messaged', 'commented', or 'written on their wall' for months on end. Currently, I have 351 friends on Facebook, and I mostly pester about 20- 30 of those friends with random messages and links to quirky websites that I happened upon whilst procrastinating from general living. That leaves hundreds of people who remain neglected. Their friendship is collecting dust in the world of Facebook, making me look like a down right turd. If I'm no Facebook friend to these people, what sort of real friend could I be? Sometimes a correlation is made when comments like "I'm just friends with them on Facebook, I really wouldn't talk to them in real life" crop up. Harsh, but true, and lets be honest with ourselves, we've all proclaimed it.
I look through my 351 friends. Could I possibly really be friends with them all? I mean, I went to high school with some of them, primary school with a small number of them, then there's uni, people I've met through social gatherings, and the random long lost child hood friend (Hi James)...I can't possibly divide myself this many ways, can I? The answer: Of course I can't. Are you nuts!?
"Friend" is a term which is indeed open to interpretation, it's just all dependant on your circumstance I suppose. As we've seen, we have best friends, party friends, school friends, work friends, and even child hood friends. All people we have met in different circumstances, some which could not be helped, and some which were sheer twists of fate. I cannot possibly be the same friend to one person as I am to the other, but I can hold them in the same regard as each other in that they are special to me for whatever the reason. Some make me laugh in ways which no one can, others can understand me without me having to explain anything to them, and some know my deepest and darkest secrets that they will carry to their graves. There are also those whom I share no common interest with whatsoever but for the memories that we share for the brief amount of time we spent together. Memories which I think of from time to time and smile or laugh out loud at the thought of them. And no matter how much time passes, that regard will always stay the same. I'm reminded of this every time I see a long lost friend, or in this case, a group of them.
So thanks for a great day guys, it was a blast. Lets try and not leave so long next time, but if we do, I look forward to the next time I get to see you.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Top 10 Films of the Future
Thursday, December 24, 2009
There's paper in my Advocat
However, there is indeed a little bit of paper in my advocat. I don't know how it got there, but its there. And it's a shame because it is home made advocat, and its made by my mother, and she's AMAZING at making things, especially things involving alcohol. I am drinking advocat...I am consequently drunk. A little. I can still write, so that's a plus.
But you must excuse me....
while I pick out this paper in my advocat.
Mmmmm. Goopy. Well, one of the quaint charms of consuming something home made, is although it may taste AMAZING, and go down an absolute treat, it does come with its unique flaws. In the case of this advocat, it is a little bit on the thick side, so what I am consuming is not so much an alcoholic beverage, but more a custard with a bit of a kick that I refuse to eat with a spoon.
I like this advocat all the same.
Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you are enjoying the festive season in a safe and respectable manner. I sure am. Cheers to us all!
I've also just enjoyed the biggest Christmas dinner and desert known to man. Following Polish tradition as best we can (my family being Polish, obviously) Christmas Eve is the big deal as opposed to Christmas Day, so all the work goes into this evening. We also get to open our presents on Christmas Eve too. I love it.
Usually, we spend the entire day preparing Christmas dinner, however I had to leave my mum and sister to do all domestic duties as I had to work. Work was quite enjoyable though, so no complaints there.
For the past week, I have been bombarded with an array of Christmas albums both past and present. When it comes to Christmas albums, there's two things--
First point of call: When thinking of making a Christmas album, start by changing your mind. Don't fucking do it. There's too many on the market out there, and if your not Judy Garland, Bing Crosby or Nat King Cole, you just shouldn't bother.
Second point: If you have ignored the first point of call, take your left hand, curl it into a fist and punch yourself in the face. If you happen to be Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Michael Bolton or Adrie Rieu please replace fist with plank of wood littered with rusty nails, but still apply same pressure to face.
Seriously. Enough with the vocal areobics. I'm getting a headache, and you're disturbing my time with my advocat. Speaking of which...I am getting a bit drowsy and fear that I soon will begin to make no sense.
That's Ka-Blamo.
Anyway, I received Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years. Who here has grown up with The Adrian Mole Diaries? Joy to the world indeed.
Good night everyone. Stay safe, stay happy, and be well. Merry Christmas.
And God Bless Us, Everyone.
Get out of here Tiny Tim.
Monday, December 14, 2009
What's my age again?
Cast: Me
Shop Assistant
Time: Present
I (who is me) waltz on into the bookshop looking to finally finish my Christmas shopping in the hopes that I (again, me) will actually get to sleep tonight. After half an hour of neck bending book spine browsing, I (me...of fuck it you get the point) finally make my selection and wander on over to the cash register where I meet a sprite young shop assistant waiting to assess the damage these purchases are going to take on my wallet.
ME: Hi how are you?
SHOP ASSISTANT: I'm fine thanks, how are you?
ME: I'm excellent thank you, just these if I could, please.
I hand her the books
SHOP ASSISTANT: Excellent you say? Now that's a word you don't hear all too often. At least when people describe themselves that is.
ME: Yes, indeed.
SHOP ASSISTANT: It such a lovely word too. Makes me smile. When you just told me you were excellent, I felt so much more happier!
ME: Oh, well, that's great!
SHOP ASSISTANT: Yes! Ha ha ha. That will be $82 something or other.
ME: Excellent, can I put that on savings?
SHOP ASSISTANT: Oh! You said it again!
ME: Oh, why yes I did!
Giggles ensue
ME: I suppose it's my favourite word on some sub- conscious level.
SHOP ASSISTANT:
ME: That's a pretty good word to.
SHOP ASSISTANT:
ME: Like Patsy and Edina.
SHOP ASSISTANT: Who?
silence
ME: Patsy and Edina, from Ab Fab.
SHOP ASSISTANT: ....I....don't...know what that is.....
ME: Oh.
SHOP ASSISTANT: I'm 16.
ME: Oh
SHOP ASSISTANT: I was thinking more Kiera Knightly from The Duchess.
ME: I hate her. Thanks for my books. Have a good one.
End Scene