7 posts tagged “contemplative”

Nothing adds that certain je ne sais quoi quite like a good and fitting title to a blog post.

One of the biggest factors for me not blogging is simply because I cannot think up of a decent title for whatever I write.

Odd, but true.

Sometimes, this brilliant idea pops up in my head, which I really want to say something about. As I sit, frantically typing away at the keys, I briefly pause at around halfway through. 'Crap, what should I call this?' I wonder aloud. With this sudden realisation that I have no answer to that question, I seem to suddenly shut down. My hands cease to move. My brain goes into what it calls the "Pondering mode", where ideas as well as criticisms are tossed around by the many odd voices in my head. Here is a typical example of one of my silent discussions in my head:

'How about _____?' suggests one. That would be my creative thought coming through there.
'Nah, that's stupid. Sheesh, what the hell's the matter with you? That shit will never work,' snaps what I call both my common sense and conscience. (Some people seem to envision an angel as their conscience, or maybe even a certain Disney-inspired cricket. Mine is a sarcastic and quick-tempered little... er, thing, that loves to insult me at every chance it gets. Lucky me.)
'Guys, can't we just get along? We'd probably get something done more quickly if we work together...' Another one of the little voices in my head. It's probably the peace-making one, that always tries in vain to try and keep the voices in my head in harmony. As usual, the voice's plea goes unnoticed and the rest of them begin to think randomly.
'I'm bored. I wanna play on my DS,' Boredom decides to throw out.
'I wonder if knives can be flammable?' This would be my inner pyromaniac talking. I usually ignore that one.
'I want to go home!'
'We are home, stupid.'
'... We are?'
"Ugh, just shut up! All of you!" I mutter in my head (Sometimes I accidentally say all of this out loud). "This is just a waste of time!"
'... You do realise that you're talking to yourself again?' my conscience replies snidely.
"..."

At this point I ignore it, realise that around 3 hours went by with nothing accomplished, shrug, turn off my computer and sleep.

My blog remains un-updated and neglected.

You may be wondering why I haven't blogged for so long.

My excuses are that my dad got me a job and I was lazy.

More of the latter than the former, though.

So, to counter this I am going to write the longest post in this entire blog.

News of the job: my dad was like "Congrats, you got a job starting Monday!" on Saturday.

Good news:
- Job! Yes! I don't need to get one from Pak'n'Save!
- MONEYS! 8D
- It's in Porirua, so no one would be able to recognise me! Huzzah!
- The other staff are Korean.

Bad news:
- The other staff are Korean. (Remember? Can't speak good Korean, due to the whole 'came to NZ at 4' business)
- It's in retail. Again. D:
- I work from 10~6pm. 8 HOURS. DDD:
- It's in retail. *shudders*
- I'll have no job after Christmas, since I'm only working 'til Christmas Eve. D:
- RETAIL. DDDD:
- I'm working Monday through to next Monday. No days off. DDDDDDDD:
- DEAR LORD ITS IN RETAIL
- Because of the strict workdays I can't go Christmas shopping. I didn't even START OTL
- I think I forgot to mention this: It's a dollar store. Called "Dollar Store 1 2 3" (LIKE, WAO SO ORIGINAL LOLZ) and the prices are as follows: $1, $2, $3 and $3.90.

So it's more bad than good news.

Here's a detailed report on the job for the first four days:

Day 1
Started work. Learned the ropes from the senior staff.
Really wasn't too bad, though I was too shy to ask for a break and ended up working non-stop for 8 hours.
Had someone ask me if we either sold BB gun bullets or BB guns themselves. Memories of Morning Glory show up. I can't escape from that stupid question, can I?
I also ended up working around 40 minutes extra for free. It involved moving boxes. And cutting them open with boxcutters. That was the fun part.
The day ended with me having really sore feet, especially on the soles, since my shoes are in disrepair. I need to get new shoes.
My mouth hurt a little from fake-smiling too much.

Day 2
Felt like a chore to wake up and go with my dad to Porirua, since feet still hurt. It's a lot different from Morning Glory, since I have to constantly stand to work the cash register, and it's always busy with customers.
Had a break this time. It was brief, but swell.
Met the first asshole who asked "Why the hell is it called '1, 2, 3' when this thing costs $3.90?" and slowly pointed at the numbers to me as if I couldn't speak english/was retarded.

I'm beginning to hate this job already.

Ended the day by helping my mum translate this thing from Korean into English. Not very easy on the brain, since I have the vocabulary of a 4 year old and had to piece the paper back together with sellotape after my mum ripped it to shreds in anger at my reluctance to translate.

Day 3
Wet and miserable morning. Helped my dad deliver boxes of new stuff into the store in the rain. Found out that my shoes weren't as water resistant as I had hoped and had to work with sopping wet sneakers.
Had a woman who wanted a $200 cash out for buying something worth $3.90. I said no, and told her that there was a bank not far from here. She then asked for $100. It was still too much and I said no. I half hoped she would get the message and go away.
She didn't, and asked for $50. Knowing that she wouldn't go away, I gave her the $50 note. She literally snatched it off my hands and without even a word of gratitude she walked away.
I am getting really sick of Beyonce's 'Irreplaceable' song, both in English AND in Spanish (At least, I think it's Spanish) plus the remix with a reggae-like beat.

I managed to get a blister on the sole of my foot. I didn't even know that was even possible.

Day 4
Began the day as usual. Endured the pain on my feet.
Met another asshole who decided that a) I can't speak English and b) I have the power to change the shop's name and, as such, should change it to "Dollar Store 1 2 3 3.90".
There was a woman who was served by my co-worker, who isn't very fluent in English. She explained something to me in Korean, then left the woman alone to check the price on something without any explanation. The woman, asked me if my co-worker couldn't speak English and apparently was insulted that "She gabbled in some chinese language and left without even saying a word". She then asked my co-worker when she came back if she couldn't speak in English.

I seriously hate that Irreplaceable song now. I have a headache, my feet are killing me, and my toe is bleeding for some inexplicable reason.

Right. I'm tired, sore and I really don't want to work tomorrow.

Perhaps, if I act really sick enough, my dad won't take me to work.

Yesterday we had our annual Prizegiving practice/actual thing.

The practice went smoothly. Nothing to report there.

(Incidentally, on the actual night I got one of those diligence certificates. Lisa [ie. most likely the only person who reads my blog other than Tina] got quite a few excellences in something. Plus a trophy. Or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention. I was, for some reason paying more attention to the fact that I accidentally set my phone on 'Vibrate' instead of silent and the phone periodically vibrated because my brother had the nerve to text me right at the beginning and I couldn't take out my phone because WHOA THIS SENTENCE IS LONG. Also, I was sitting stiffly upright throughout the whole thing and my shoulders hurt like Hell afterwards and-)

However, what happened afterwards was more... interesting, as it were.

Well, Kruti and I went to the French room after practice to begin planning and initial set up for the Treasure hunt that was to happen today.

At first, a couple of people came to help out. Most said they were busy, and some said they would help out on the day.

At this point, around 8 moderately interested people were present for the planning (In total, there were about 10 in the room). Then Madame MacIver (Yes, I'm going to call her that 'cause it sounds cooler that way lol) came and brought fish and chips, which was quite nice of her.

Then it all went downhill.

First off, some of the moderately interested people talked about things not related whatsoever to what we were supposed to do, so they were pretty much kicked out (Only we were more polite and used more flowery words).

Then there were 8.

About half an hour later, the rest of the mildly interested people thought it was getting late (It was 1.30pm, by the way) and so they left too.

In other words, it was only Kruti, Madame MacIver and I.

I think it wasn't really that bad, if it wasn't for the fact that I spent all night making Christmas Cards (Out of paper stuck together by glue, no less), Kruti had insomnia (apparently) the night before, and Madame needed to leave at 4.30 to pick up her husband.

Long story short, lots of hysterical laughter and running around was had.

We managed to finish making those stupid clues at around 5.30, where my mum had to help as well. (Kruti and I can't tie balloons, apparently.)

Then came the next day.

I came at the usual time at around 8ish.

Waited around a couple of hours until the French room was open, then began the frantic running all over the place to hide the clues and such. Altogether, there were 7 people who helped out on the day. Madame MacIver needed to attend a funeral that day, so we were in charge of the Year 9s. DUR HUR HUR :B

Seeing as no one was very... enthusiastic about putting les escargots onto dishes, I was forced to do that job.

Even if I was using a spoon, it was disgusting. The smell was worse.

Just as we [read: Kruti and I] were still explaining everything to the newcomers who came late to help, the french students came for their lesson treasure hunt.

Oops.

Many hasty apologies and "It'll only take a few more minutes" later, and we were done.

... Well, actually, no; we had to distract them with the 'number game' (flyswatters and all) and the 'dessinez' game while I set up the snails.

After a brief panting from me (Having to run all the way from the tech block to the french room), we Kruti described the rules (while I added things here and there)

After that, 4 of the 7 helpers went with the groups while the others went to their 'stations'.

But first, we got to see the kiddies' disgusted expressions at the prospect of eating snails. (It was the first task for all of them) :D

It took around 40 minutes, and a few hiccups here and there (One of the groups accidentally picked up the wrong clue, plus the task I was assigned to do didn't even WORK OTL), but it was finally over.

I collapsed in a heap after that, having to run around everywhere while wearing a warm jacket and a scarf.

So... Yeah. That was pretty much what happened today and yesterday. I'm still tired, by the way, and I've lost all feeling in my legs now.

I think that this is not a good sign.

... One of the first vox post in ages, and it's a long and slightly depressing one. Plus, it's the final 'episode' of my so-called adventures as a retail worker.

You heard me.

Like the title says, Morning Glory no longer belongs to my family.

From what I've heard, my dad's been finalizing everything tonight.

In terms of thoughts, I feel as if a weight's been taken off me, yet.. there's a hint of... sadness, maybe?

I mean, we've been trying to get rid of the shop for a while now, since we were at the point where it was impossible to pay off debt and get a profit, plus this would mean that I have more free time to do what I want for once.

Besides, it's not like I'm disappointed that I'm not going to work at the shop. Most of the window shoppers weren't exactly the... brightest bulbs in the box. Plus, what's left of my faith in humanity will stay intact, so that's a plus as well.

Yet... It's going to be strange, I'll give you that. My family's owned Morning Glory for around 11 years, and having that finally taken off our hands is relieving. However, at the same time I feel as if my childhood had been snatched away as well. For as long as I've remembered the shop's always been there (since I'm too dumb and forgetful to remember my 'other' life in Korea when I lived there) and it was always owned by us.
I remember telling kids from my old school with a proud face that "My parents own Morning Glory" and liked hearing others talk about how I was lucky I was. In other words, I was an attention-seeking freak when I was little. I guess I still am, to an extent.

... Ha. That's kinda stupid, isn't it? I'm only fifteen and I'm lamenting about my childhood as if I was fifty and suffering from mid-life crisis. I feel like an idiot posting my thoughts here.

In any case, think of this as a sort of explaination to you all if I seem depressed on Monday. That would be me sorting stuff out in my mind - something I've been needing to do for a while. While I'm at it this could also be an apology to you all if I seem snappy. Please don't take it personally, though I'll be doing my best to act normal. If that's the case and you didn't notice a thing until I pointed it out, then please ignore this bit silently.

On a final note, this could very well be my last vox post in a while, unless I am inspired by a rare visit from my muse, who I haven't seen since July. As far as I can tell it won't come back in a while, and I have the sinking sensation that it is in the same place as my mind and sanity, who have also gone AWOL on me. I offer $1.80 as a reward for any information regarding their whereabouts. The money is subject to change, depending on my compulsive spending habits.

"While he was talking at Baylor University, President Bush said, 'Times are kind of tough.' He also pointed out that Bill Gates is kind of rich, that water is kind of wet, and that Elvis is kind of dead."
- Andy Waits

This time, I'm not joking. I know it sounds childish, but I'm beginning to feel that I am invisible or something.

I've mentioned this, laughingly with my friends, about how our teachers seem to ignore us constantly (One in particular just seems to focus on ignoring me completely). However, it's the same story in my household.

Like my mother, for instance. She seems to have no trouble at all at remembering small things for the homestay students, my older brother and my dad, but she almost always forgets about me.

Basically, things go like this:

Mother: So, there's four people here, right? *Counts everyone but me* Yes, there's four here.
Me: Um... You forgot about me. Again.
Mother: Oh! Right. Sure.

Before my birthday...

Mother: So, Christine, you're turning 14 this year, right?
Me: Actually, I'm 15.
Mother: Right, right. It's in May, right?
Me: March.

I am beginning to feel very.... out of place. As if I don't belong in this family.

I mean, everyone here except me enjoys watching Korean comedies and such. Because I don't understand most of their jokes unless its slapstick or something, I don't watch it. It's not because the shows are stupid, it's only because of the lack of comprehension.

My brother has a distinct advantage in this because he came here when he was 7. I was only 4, and didn't even begin pre-school at the time. The homestay students obviously understand those shows, since they probably watched it before they even came here.

My brother has also developed a huge interest in Korean music. I'm still only interested in Japanese ones, and let's just say my folks here ain't fond of the music.

I only just learned about my mother's past less than a week ago, and it looked like my brother already knew about it. What, doesn't she even trust me anymore?

.... Of course, the parents never forget about me if I make a mistake or do something wrong. Shows how much they care, right?

.... Bah, I just want to get that out of my chest. By tomorrow, I would have bottled this up back inside, and put on my "Happy mask". I still have yet to perfect it, since my cynicism and anger always seems to show through.

... And I just realised how depressed I sound. Maybe I really should go to a psychiatrist or counsellor.

In an attempt to make this post sound less emo-like, here's a funny youtube video:

"Despair: it's always darkest just before it goes pitch-black." - Despair.com

I completely forgot about this site. Something must be wrong with me.

.... Alright. This is going to sound weird, so DON'T LAUGH. Or do, I don't really care anymore.

Noticing my report for the year I have come to several conclusions:

- Ms Loubser (Did I spell it right?) doesn't like me. :(

- There is NO WAY IN HELL I am taking Accounting next year.

- Maths is way too easy.

While I read it, my brother had commented that I should study Law. WTF.

He says that considering my (Crap) Science scores and my good marks in English & History, I am suited to be in the field of Law.

There is the fact, of course, that my brother forgets that I SUCK IN PUBLIC SPEAKING.

Now that I keep thinking about it, should I pursue this career path? Or stick to my (Impossible) thoughts of being a programmer?

I can see it now...

"Christine Park - Ace Attourney"

.... Wait, no I can't. I can't see myself as a defense lawyer. Maybe a prosecutor? I don't know what I should be now. @_@

Edit: For the LAST time, I AM NOT EMO. STOP GIVING ME THESE STUPID LINKS TO EMO SITES, GOOGLE.

Edit... Again: I want to play MUGEN now.

Today at Prizegiving:
... I really don't know. One side of me is ashamed at the fact that my parents wasted their time when they already had an appointment to see that I didn't even earn anything. The other side of me feels... relieved for some reason. I don't know why. I just feel relieved and indifferent at the same time. What I mean is, what's the point of getting a certificate? It's just a piece of card paper that makes people feel special. What about those people who don't have a certificate? Aren't they just as special?

Little children:
... Is it wrong to have homicidal thoughts? Because I've had many, many thoughts of taking out a gun and threatening them to shut up. For example, today while I waited for my bus to come (Which, incidentally arrived 45 minutes late) I had to keep listening to a little kid keep talking/sceaming, where I grew more and more irritated by the second. My brain was already imagining that I either had volume control or a blowdart with a tranquilising dart in it. I know that's horrible, but...

I think there's something wrong with me. DX

People in general:
I have noticed that I am beginning to really dispise people. Just today I recieved a random email which went like this:
-------------------
LOL LOL LOL
r u azn?

i am.

lol
jk

azns r gai
------------------
Several suggestions to the above comment to make it look less retarded.
- Learn how to SPELL ENGLISH. I have seen 9 year olds spell better than you.
- Writing LOL LOL LOL as a title instantly makes it retarded, because it looks like you've broken the Caps Lock key.
- Stop being a racist prick. I hate to say it (well, actually, I do), but the world doesn't revolve around you. Therefore, others don't share the same opinon.
- ... Seriously, learn how to SPELL. I cannot stress this enough. Writing 'asian' instead of 'azn' will not kill you, nor will it take much time.

'Nuff said. I hate people, but have exceptions, such as the matter of friends and family.

Buses:
Three words which sums it up for me: I HATE BUSES.
I have been late more than once just because the bus was late. I once spent one and a half hours waiting for a bus. It never came. I ended up waiting about one more hour until I managed to catch my parents driving home from work.

Music:
I hate Snow Patrol and Eskimo Joe. I don't care what anyone says, they piss me off.

Allergies:
The itch in my eye is very, very, itchy and annoying at the same time. For some reason I want to wear an eyepatch over the eye that itches most, get out a fake hook and say "ARR!"
o_< ?  <-- This is a pirate and a hook. Leave me alone. T_T

Current mood:
I feel extremely moody today. I don't know why, but I just feel.. insignificant and depressed.

... Well, I've filled up my rant quota for the day. I need to work on the debate.

"Success - Some people dream of success, while other people live to crush those dreams." - Despair.com