Law School for 2011 is of course long over. I'm soon to begin the 2012 year and I feel compelled to blog on it. Not that I've posted anything for months and months, but I started this blog to help myself with the transition so logic dictates I should reflect on how it all went.
After last year, first and foremost, I believe that Law School should come with a big red warning label. The warning would go something like this:
Warning: May cause excessive drowsiness, stress headaches, lower self-esteem, higher standards of dress, the constant mantra of 'P's get degrees', caffeine addiction, tension, anxiety, more social drama than High School could ever aspire to, phenomenal amounts of set reading, words like 'foreseeability' creeping out of your mouth and finally, may cause all your old friends to think you're kind of a douchebag because you use words like 'foreseeability'.
All of this is true. All of this has pretty much sucked. And yet, the only label I'd really put on Law School based on my experience is:
Buckle up, my friend, and brace yourself for the best damn year of your life.
How can that be true? I ask you. How can all of that stuff above be true and yet I have never been happier and never felt so sure that I am exactly where I am supposed to be? I don't know. This is a rhetorical question. All I know is that I have loved pretty much every minute of it. The people I've met are unbelievable. The subject matter (with the exception of Property Law) is fascinating.
And the lifestyle? Don't get me started on rhapsodising about that. Once I had three (platonic) coffee dates in one day. I got to shop in my Thursday breaks. I got to skip class (just once...) to lie in the sunshine by the river with my favourite second year friends. A group of us went to an Art Gallery exhibition in the evening one time, all dressed up and pretentious as could be, and afterwards we went to this fancy bar that served $18 martinis. Thank God for being a teetotaller, am I right?
Bottom line, the lifestyle is fantastic! And after all that I still found time to study enough to get reasonably good grades. After Uni stopped last year I missed it for a month like a constant headache. These holidays are way too long and I've developed quite a serious World of Warcraft addiction in the interim. My Draenai is now level 38. Thirty levels in one year? That doesn't seem so bad I guess. Actually just thinking about it makes me want to play WoW again. Better go do that. Pity, I woke up with such good intentions of spring cleaning the kitchen.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Friday, August 26, 2011
Pottermore
As a self-respecting Harry Potter fanatic, I should have been more pleased when I heard of J. K. Rowlings mysterious new project, Pottermore. But I was strangely blase. Even when I saw the announcement video, I just couldn't work out what was going on in her head. What was the point of this 'online reading experience'?
But now I've been beta testing for a week and I have really quite into it. It's heartwarming. I don't think it's complicated or particularly revolutionary. It just taps into the longing we all have to go to Hogwarts. The artwork is beautiful. You just get to relive the stories again. And all the new content is amazing.
Just two minutes ago, as I read about wand woods, I felt like I did when I used to play Hogwarts in the study with a dressing gown and chopstick. This magical, warm, safe kind of feeling. Burgeoning imagination or something. I recognized it as soon as I felt it. That's how playing Hogwarts used to feel.
Guess JKR's got something right here.
Also, the law student in me read the terms and conditions thoroughly. Studying contracts scares you into reading them every time.
I was sorted into Hufflepuff, which was a bit galling at first but now is a complete honour. I also think it does suit me extremely well. When registration opens fully in October, I may well create another account and take the test again, answering just as honestly and see if I get in Hufflepuff again.
I have to go; my forgetfulness potion should be brewed now...
But now I've been beta testing for a week and I have really quite into it. It's heartwarming. I don't think it's complicated or particularly revolutionary. It just taps into the longing we all have to go to Hogwarts. The artwork is beautiful. You just get to relive the stories again. And all the new content is amazing.
Just two minutes ago, as I read about wand woods, I felt like I did when I used to play Hogwarts in the study with a dressing gown and chopstick. This magical, warm, safe kind of feeling. Burgeoning imagination or something. I recognized it as soon as I felt it. That's how playing Hogwarts used to feel.
Guess JKR's got something right here.
Also, the law student in me read the terms and conditions thoroughly. Studying contracts scares you into reading them every time.
I was sorted into Hufflepuff, which was a bit galling at first but now is a complete honour. I also think it does suit me extremely well. When registration opens fully in October, I may well create another account and take the test again, answering just as honestly and see if I get in Hufflepuff again.
I have to go; my forgetfulness potion should be brewed now...
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Out of my League
One thing I don't like about being 'all grown up': You're not supposed to cry.
You have to handle things maturely. You have to respond appropriately. And mostly I think this is a very good idea. But not today.
I was with some friends after a seminar, and I had expressed attraction for someone from the class.
I was promptly told by one of my friends that the person in question was 'major league' and that I would not have shot as I was a 'nerd'. The nerd, he told me, never gets the really attractive people. It just doesn't happen, he confidently asserted to my face.
In all honesty, I hadn't any intention to pursue the person in question. I was merely appreciating their good looks. But to be told that I had no chance because I was somehow inferior was a horrible blow.
As a mature adult with excellent perspective I was supposed to be confident in myself and to throw off that comment. And in appearance I think I did. I stood up for myself and for nerds everywhere and told him he was wrong. But when we parted company, the only thing I wanted to do was to run to my Best Friend and sob to her what he'd said, because I'll be honest, it'd really hurt.
But my Best Friend was a half-hour drive away at another university. And the friends I had with me were not people I'd feel right crying in front of. Because 'grown-ups' don't cry.
Today I was told I was barred from dating the upper echelon because I am an undateable, inferior nerd. What a shallow assessment. So I have pictures of my Harry Potter party on my Facebook page? So my idea of a good Saturday is the Antiques Fair followed by an evening making fun of Twilight? So what if there's a Hogwarts uniform on the back of my door and a dolls house workshop in my back room?
This is what makes me unique. This is what makes me interesting. Yes, there are people who I am incompatible with, who are not attracted to me, who do not have common interests with me, who I just plain shouldn't be with. But that doesn't make them out of my league.
Case in Point: Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Aladdin and Jasmine. Beauty and the Beast. Mary Donaldson and the freaking Crown Prince of Denmark!
In other news, I have been perusing my blog statistics. A scarily large number of pageviews come from people searching how to do polygamy on Sims. It gladdens my heart to know there are more people like me out there.
You have to handle things maturely. You have to respond appropriately. And mostly I think this is a very good idea. But not today.
I was with some friends after a seminar, and I had expressed attraction for someone from the class.
I was promptly told by one of my friends that the person in question was 'major league' and that I would not have shot as I was a 'nerd'. The nerd, he told me, never gets the really attractive people. It just doesn't happen, he confidently asserted to my face.
In all honesty, I hadn't any intention to pursue the person in question. I was merely appreciating their good looks. But to be told that I had no chance because I was somehow inferior was a horrible blow.
As a mature adult with excellent perspective I was supposed to be confident in myself and to throw off that comment. And in appearance I think I did. I stood up for myself and for nerds everywhere and told him he was wrong. But when we parted company, the only thing I wanted to do was to run to my Best Friend and sob to her what he'd said, because I'll be honest, it'd really hurt.
But my Best Friend was a half-hour drive away at another university. And the friends I had with me were not people I'd feel right crying in front of. Because 'grown-ups' don't cry.
Today I was told I was barred from dating the upper echelon because I am an undateable, inferior nerd. What a shallow assessment. So I have pictures of my Harry Potter party on my Facebook page? So my idea of a good Saturday is the Antiques Fair followed by an evening making fun of Twilight? So what if there's a Hogwarts uniform on the back of my door and a dolls house workshop in my back room?
This is what makes me unique. This is what makes me interesting. Yes, there are people who I am incompatible with, who are not attracted to me, who do not have common interests with me, who I just plain shouldn't be with. But that doesn't make them out of my league.
Case in Point: Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Aladdin and Jasmine. Beauty and the Beast. Mary Donaldson and the freaking Crown Prince of Denmark!
In other news, I have been perusing my blog statistics. A scarily large number of pageviews come from people searching how to do polygamy on Sims. It gladdens my heart to know there are more people like me out there.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Harry Potter: A Decade of Magic
On Tuesday evening I went to the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows: Part 2. It was a wonderful night, but it didn't feel like I expected it to. I thought it would feel like the book release four years ago; the best day of my life. That day I felt happy and safe, cloistered in another world and totally filled with joy. I thought since I coped with the last book well, the last film premiere would be fine. It was amazing to be at; hoardes of people lining up for hours, costumes, decorations and excitement. I had expected all this, but it was still awesome to behold.
What I had not anticipated was the immense pain that crept into my heart as we entered the cinema. I felt numb. I couldn't face the end, I kept thinking that I wasn't prepared. This felt more like the end than anything else, maybe because there are no more films or books now, maybe because life has already changed so much this year and this was just one more piece of my old life spiralling out of my grip.
I wasn't unhappy (not physically possible at a Harry Potter event) but I was in pain. All through Part 1 the feeling in my chest was akin to a broken heart. Actually it was exactly like a broken heart, an affliction I suffered three years ago and never wanted to repeat. Part 1 swept me away but if I ever dropped concentration for a second and registered where I was, the thudding pain in my heart was still there. I was keenly aware that a chapter of my life was closing, and (not to be too dramatic) that a part of me was switching off the lights and leaving forever.
Harry Potter has been there for the last decade of my life, comforting, sustaining, entertaining, enriching, educating and thrilling me.
It's been an absolute honour to grow up at this time, in this place, with Harry Potter. I wasn't with it right from the beginning (when it was published I was four), but I got into it early enough that I can call it my whole life. My life before Harry Potter was barbies and play-dates. Little nothings.
Ten years ago I read Philosophers Stone for the first time. It was the night before I saw the film; my parents had said I could only come to the movie if I'd read the book, otherwise I'd be too frightened. I wasn't about to let my brother see a movie that I couldn't, so I read the book on my Grandma's couch in one night. Eight years old and still in a pretty serious horse-phase, I remember dropping the book down for a second and thinking; "this is amazing" before reading furiously on.
I had quite a serious case of Hogwarts-envy for the next year or so. I would set up a classroom in the study and play Hogwarts for hours on end. I had a load of 'textbooks' and a dressing gown and a chopstick and that was all I needed. It was magic. Nowadays I have a beautiful handmade wand and a very expensive, very faithful Hogwarts uniform, and yet I can't ever quite recapture the magic of those first Hogwarts games.
I remember once bouncing on our trampoline with a broom between my legs and honestly believing that maybe I could fly and I didn't know it. Maybe if I just tried I'd shoot off into the air and ascend to the clouds.
Later I stopped playing a Hogwarts student myself and started recreating it with paper dolls that I made myself; one of the first things I did when we got a computer for the first time; a clunky old Windows 95. I made about a hundred dolls on Paint, with accessories; little owls and cauldrons. And I drew backdrops, elaborate pictures of all the rooms in Hogwarts. I drove my Mum mad with all bluetack I got stuck on her walls pinning Hogwarts up. But it was wonderful. I wish with all my heart that I could see it again. Time and hard play made them tatty and worn out, and they were thrown out.
If I had them now, I would take them to show my Best Friend and we would probably have played with them while we waited for the midnight release. We would undoudtedly be very silly, acting out our favourite canon scenes and fanfictions and making wierd ships get together. Dumbledagrid, anyone? Once we actually did play silly games with her Lego Hogwarts.
All of these memories and many more, sharp and detailed, span through my mind as I struggled to be ready to truly say goodbye to my Harry Potter childhood.
Nothing lasts forever. My time as a child growing up with Harry Potter is over now, and I must deal with that eventually although I am still not quite there yet. But here's the silver lining; now I get to see what it's like to be an adult who grew up with Harry Potter. And there is very little groundwork for that category of person, so I get to decide what that means and what that involves.
I have many dreams for my life as an adult of the Harry Potter generation. They involve my Best Friend and I commemorating July 21st as a celebration of Harry Potter long into the future. I also fully expect a Harry Potter theme to creep into my wedding. And I am absolutely certain that one day, when my children are Hogwarts age (ten or eleven), I will tuck them in one night and begin to read them a story called Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.
I credit the last beautiful thought of this homily entirely to my dearest Best Friend. After the release, we walked slowly out of the cinema; she and I and her sister.
"That was a fun decade," I said, half-serious, half-joking, "What do we do now?"
"We follow their example." She said.
And I will. I will always ask myself; 'What would Harry, Ron and Hermione do?' and I will encourage my children to do the same.
What I had not anticipated was the immense pain that crept into my heart as we entered the cinema. I felt numb. I couldn't face the end, I kept thinking that I wasn't prepared. This felt more like the end than anything else, maybe because there are no more films or books now, maybe because life has already changed so much this year and this was just one more piece of my old life spiralling out of my grip.
I wasn't unhappy (not physically possible at a Harry Potter event) but I was in pain. All through Part 1 the feeling in my chest was akin to a broken heart. Actually it was exactly like a broken heart, an affliction I suffered three years ago and never wanted to repeat. Part 1 swept me away but if I ever dropped concentration for a second and registered where I was, the thudding pain in my heart was still there. I was keenly aware that a chapter of my life was closing, and (not to be too dramatic) that a part of me was switching off the lights and leaving forever.
Harry Potter has been there for the last decade of my life, comforting, sustaining, entertaining, enriching, educating and thrilling me.
It's been an absolute honour to grow up at this time, in this place, with Harry Potter. I wasn't with it right from the beginning (when it was published I was four), but I got into it early enough that I can call it my whole life. My life before Harry Potter was barbies and play-dates. Little nothings.
Ten years ago I read Philosophers Stone for the first time. It was the night before I saw the film; my parents had said I could only come to the movie if I'd read the book, otherwise I'd be too frightened. I wasn't about to let my brother see a movie that I couldn't, so I read the book on my Grandma's couch in one night. Eight years old and still in a pretty serious horse-phase, I remember dropping the book down for a second and thinking; "this is amazing" before reading furiously on.
I had quite a serious case of Hogwarts-envy for the next year or so. I would set up a classroom in the study and play Hogwarts for hours on end. I had a load of 'textbooks' and a dressing gown and a chopstick and that was all I needed. It was magic. Nowadays I have a beautiful handmade wand and a very expensive, very faithful Hogwarts uniform, and yet I can't ever quite recapture the magic of those first Hogwarts games.
I remember once bouncing on our trampoline with a broom between my legs and honestly believing that maybe I could fly and I didn't know it. Maybe if I just tried I'd shoot off into the air and ascend to the clouds.
Later I stopped playing a Hogwarts student myself and started recreating it with paper dolls that I made myself; one of the first things I did when we got a computer for the first time; a clunky old Windows 95. I made about a hundred dolls on Paint, with accessories; little owls and cauldrons. And I drew backdrops, elaborate pictures of all the rooms in Hogwarts. I drove my Mum mad with all bluetack I got stuck on her walls pinning Hogwarts up. But it was wonderful. I wish with all my heart that I could see it again. Time and hard play made them tatty and worn out, and they were thrown out.
If I had them now, I would take them to show my Best Friend and we would probably have played with them while we waited for the midnight release. We would undoudtedly be very silly, acting out our favourite canon scenes and fanfictions and making wierd ships get together. Dumbledagrid, anyone? Once we actually did play silly games with her Lego Hogwarts.
All of these memories and many more, sharp and detailed, span through my mind as I struggled to be ready to truly say goodbye to my Harry Potter childhood.
Nothing lasts forever. My time as a child growing up with Harry Potter is over now, and I must deal with that eventually although I am still not quite there yet. But here's the silver lining; now I get to see what it's like to be an adult who grew up with Harry Potter. And there is very little groundwork for that category of person, so I get to decide what that means and what that involves.
I have many dreams for my life as an adult of the Harry Potter generation. They involve my Best Friend and I commemorating July 21st as a celebration of Harry Potter long into the future. I also fully expect a Harry Potter theme to creep into my wedding. And I am absolutely certain that one day, when my children are Hogwarts age (ten or eleven), I will tuck them in one night and begin to read them a story called Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.
I credit the last beautiful thought of this homily entirely to my dearest Best Friend. After the release, we walked slowly out of the cinema; she and I and her sister.
"That was a fun decade," I said, half-serious, half-joking, "What do we do now?"
"We follow their example." She said.
And I will. I will always ask myself; 'What would Harry, Ron and Hermione do?' and I will encourage my children to do the same.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Marathon Facebook Rant
I am seriously considereing deleting my Facbook account. I thought it would be great for Uni, people assured me it would but I'm not so convinved anymore. For starters, I use it 90% of the time to talk to my best friend. 1 person (but alot of times). I have two or three times chatted with a guy in my Contracts class. 2 people. Twice I organised a study session using the message function. 4 people. Two catch ups. 6 people, we're up to now. And then I've had various conversations with people over message and comments, maybe ten people, so that makes a grand total of 16 people that I have actually connected with over facebook, and not just liked their status or stalked them.
Actually there was that argument about gay rights I had that time. It was unpleasant but still connecting. So 18 people.
18 people in six months
Average of three per month
I have 112 facebook friends.
So 94 of my 'friends' are in fact just a number in my friend count. They are random stuff that shows up in my news feed. The news feed stuffs not even good! All statuses about what people are 'keen' for (anything from the weekend to eating cheesecake. Fascinating.) or ones that start 'That awkward moment when...' when the story isn't an awkward moment. Get an original thought, people.
I don't hate the news feed. I have several facebook friends who post absolute gold statuses every time; I will sometimes go back months on their wall reading their statuses (Is that stalking?). But you have to wade through so much crap in the news feed to find this stuff. I often think, as I log onto facebook for the fifth time in one day: "What am I doing? What does this accomplish? Why do I even care?"
On the flipside though, you remember my best friend from High School who got into a different University and we were cruelly wrench apart? Well Facebook does help our relationship ALOT. I didn't see her for 25 days straight, but we talked so much via text, email and facebook that I didn't register this until day 22. I don't know if I could get rid of facebook if it meant I'd lose that extra connection.
So only practical solution: delete my 94-odd deadbeat facebook friends. And that doesn't seem rude at all! In all honesty I don't think I'd unfriend that many but it might be time for a spring clean. I don't want to be just a number in someone's friend count, I want people who really care. I want friends who are there for me, on and off Facebook. And I've found plenty of these real friends throughout Primary, High and now Law School. The rest of the numbers in my friend count can shove off until they're actually prepared to invest something in our friendship other than accepting a friend request.
From now on I'm going to drastically change my facebook attitude. If you don't do the time off facebook, you don't get it on facebook. It might take me a while to get the courage to implement this, but I'm going to try.
In other news, my hair is red now. Let's just say I take dressing up as a Weasley very seriously. Red hair really suits me, I've found but I have to not wear red or pink until the colour's gone (it's semi-permanent, 28 washes). Red looked amazing on me when I was light brown-haired, but not so much now.
Actually there was that argument about gay rights I had that time. It was unpleasant but still connecting. So 18 people.
18 people in six months
Average of three per month
I have 112 facebook friends.
So 94 of my 'friends' are in fact just a number in my friend count. They are random stuff that shows up in my news feed. The news feed stuffs not even good! All statuses about what people are 'keen' for (anything from the weekend to eating cheesecake. Fascinating.) or ones that start 'That awkward moment when...' when the story isn't an awkward moment. Get an original thought, people.
I don't hate the news feed. I have several facebook friends who post absolute gold statuses every time; I will sometimes go back months on their wall reading their statuses (Is that stalking?). But you have to wade through so much crap in the news feed to find this stuff. I often think, as I log onto facebook for the fifth time in one day: "What am I doing? What does this accomplish? Why do I even care?"
On the flipside though, you remember my best friend from High School who got into a different University and we were cruelly wrench apart? Well Facebook does help our relationship ALOT. I didn't see her for 25 days straight, but we talked so much via text, email and facebook that I didn't register this until day 22. I don't know if I could get rid of facebook if it meant I'd lose that extra connection.
So only practical solution: delete my 94-odd deadbeat facebook friends. And that doesn't seem rude at all! In all honesty I don't think I'd unfriend that many but it might be time for a spring clean. I don't want to be just a number in someone's friend count, I want people who really care. I want friends who are there for me, on and off Facebook. And I've found plenty of these real friends throughout Primary, High and now Law School. The rest of the numbers in my friend count can shove off until they're actually prepared to invest something in our friendship other than accepting a friend request.
From now on I'm going to drastically change my facebook attitude. If you don't do the time off facebook, you don't get it on facebook. It might take me a while to get the courage to implement this, but I'm going to try.
In other news, my hair is red now. Let's just say I take dressing up as a Weasley very seriously. Red hair really suits me, I've found but I have to not wear red or pink until the colour's gone (it's semi-permanent, 28 washes). Red looked amazing on me when I was light brown-haired, but not so much now.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Ellen Page's Warning (My Parasocial Dream-Heartbreak)
Life gets a bit depressing when even my dreams stray into parasocial-relating territory. I'm not talking about dreaming of hanging out with Buffy. I love those dreams. I had a dream about a real person that was so realistic it could have been real, except it wasn't. Does that make sense?
It was a beautiful day, in my dream. I could feel the warm sun on my face, see the blue sky arching over me and the rather impressive buildings that surround my law school. Normally in my dreams places are altered so that even in the dream you kind of know that it's not real. Not this one. Just this once my mind recreated my everyday surroundings immaculately. I had finished my lecture and was whiling away some time in the mall. I ran into my current romantic interest, my THAT person from posts gone by. Lets call them Tayler for shorthand. So Tayler and I met in the mall and the unusual thing about this dream was it in no way went the route of wishful thinking. It was completely realistic to my real interactions with Tayler.
This meant that instead of remarkably quickly declaring undying love for each other, we chatted. We went to a cafe that actually exists in real life and we talked. I felt just like I do when I'm with Tayler in real life. In the end it did go into a little bit of wishful thinking. The conversation turned to relationships and the conversation got a bit flirty and involved some prolonged-eye-contact moments. But it was so believable.
In Inception, Cobb warns Ellen Page's character to never make dream worlds out of places you actually know, because you might not be able to tell what's real anymore. He was very, very right.
When I woke up, it didn't feel like: "That was a nice dream but yeah, right, like that's ever going to really happen." It wasn't even: "Wow, how realistic was that."
It was massive happiness for a short-but-definetely-awake period, that my dreams had come true. And then this odd feeling that something didn't feel right, that I hadn't even been in the city yesterday. 'When was that again?' I thought. 'It couldn't have been a dream. It wasn't...oh my god it was a dream.' It was like a kick in the stomach. I had to remember that Tayler is seeing someone and that it is highly improbable that my feelings will ever be returned.
So in the end it was just hyper-wish-fulfillment. I guess I want this so badly I couldn't even dream it in any way that would seem like it couldn't happen.
Or maybe I was being Incepted. Maybe Leonardo Dicaprio and Ellen Page put electrodes on my head and while my dream self was flirting over coffee with Tayler they implanted an idea so deep in my mind that right now it is growing, shaping my future, and I don't even know that I didn't think of it.
I prefer the second explanation. At least it involves Ellen Page. Who doesn't love Ellen Page?
It was a beautiful day, in my dream. I could feel the warm sun on my face, see the blue sky arching over me and the rather impressive buildings that surround my law school. Normally in my dreams places are altered so that even in the dream you kind of know that it's not real. Not this one. Just this once my mind recreated my everyday surroundings immaculately. I had finished my lecture and was whiling away some time in the mall. I ran into my current romantic interest, my THAT person from posts gone by. Lets call them Tayler for shorthand. So Tayler and I met in the mall and the unusual thing about this dream was it in no way went the route of wishful thinking. It was completely realistic to my real interactions with Tayler.
This meant that instead of remarkably quickly declaring undying love for each other, we chatted. We went to a cafe that actually exists in real life and we talked. I felt just like I do when I'm with Tayler in real life. In the end it did go into a little bit of wishful thinking. The conversation turned to relationships and the conversation got a bit flirty and involved some prolonged-eye-contact moments. But it was so believable.
In Inception, Cobb warns Ellen Page's character to never make dream worlds out of places you actually know, because you might not be able to tell what's real anymore. He was very, very right.
When I woke up, it didn't feel like: "That was a nice dream but yeah, right, like that's ever going to really happen." It wasn't even: "Wow, how realistic was that."
It was massive happiness for a short-but-definetely-awake period, that my dreams had come true. And then this odd feeling that something didn't feel right, that I hadn't even been in the city yesterday. 'When was that again?' I thought. 'It couldn't have been a dream. It wasn't...oh my god it was a dream.' It was like a kick in the stomach. I had to remember that Tayler is seeing someone and that it is highly improbable that my feelings will ever be returned.
So in the end it was just hyper-wish-fulfillment. I guess I want this so badly I couldn't even dream it in any way that would seem like it couldn't happen.
Or maybe I was being Incepted. Maybe Leonardo Dicaprio and Ellen Page put electrodes on my head and while my dream self was flirting over coffee with Tayler they implanted an idea so deep in my mind that right now it is growing, shaping my future, and I don't even know that I didn't think of it.
I prefer the second explanation. At least it involves Ellen Page. Who doesn't love Ellen Page?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Case Study: High School Crushes
Okay, here's the big question. I want to know why in all hell I fall for the people I do. What is the connection, what is the appeal? So here it is: a profile of the major people I've had romantic feelings for, organised by which Year level I was in. Let's case study and try to work out the whys of it.
Primary School (Year 4-7): Good at everything. Very popular. Self-assured and kind of mean. Truly delightful when not trying to impress friends. Brunette. Atheist. Undisputedly good-looking
Year 9: Total drop-kick. No ambition or concentration. Little intelligence. Not very good looking either. Looked a little like a toad. Very mildly bad-boy. Told very bad jokes and was in general a distracting person. Atheist. Sandy Brown hair.
Year 10: Christian. Particularly into marriage. Moody, serious. Not big on communication. Very good dresser. Glasses. Blonde. Very sweet, very gentlemanly but with potential for great tactlessness.
Year 11: Incredibly Smart. Nerdy. Glasses. Brunette. Heavy thinker. Not incredibly perceptive but really, really kind. Christian.
Year 12: Sandy Blonde. Funny, great sense of humour. Very committed Christian. Amazing singing voice, calming presence. Sweet but VERY stubborn. Glasses.
Currently: Atheist. Blonde. European descent (read: REALLY good-looking). Fearless, friendly, sexy. Juvenile and kind of a people-pleaser.
The only pattern so far is there were more blondes. Great. I have a blonde fetish. Not helpful because I already knew that. I'll have to think deeper.
I notice that, apart from year 9, they all have really big, bold personalities. And, this time excepting Year 12 all were very sure of themselves to cover up for deep insecurities. So maybe I have a 'saving-people thing' like Harry Potter. Of course deep insecurities covers pretty much anyone in High School so there's not much of an insight there. There is an even spread between Atheists and Christians, so apparently religion neither attracts nor repels me particularly.
There were three with glasses, but again this is no new insight for me. I know I have a bit of a thing for nerds and for glasses.
So, purely on the data at hand, it seems my ideal mate:
Romantic attraction is still a mystery, even after this highly scientific case study. Well that was a waste of time. Ah well. I finished exams today, it's not like I have anything else I need to do. A whole month totally free now! I celebrated by making wands.
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Primary School (Year 4-7): Good at everything. Very popular. Self-assured and kind of mean. Truly delightful when not trying to impress friends. Brunette. Atheist. Undisputedly good-looking
Year 9: Total drop-kick. No ambition or concentration. Little intelligence. Not very good looking either. Looked a little like a toad. Very mildly bad-boy. Told very bad jokes and was in general a distracting person. Atheist. Sandy Brown hair.
Year 10: Christian. Particularly into marriage. Moody, serious. Not big on communication. Very good dresser. Glasses. Blonde. Very sweet, very gentlemanly but with potential for great tactlessness.
Year 11: Incredibly Smart. Nerdy. Glasses. Brunette. Heavy thinker. Not incredibly perceptive but really, really kind. Christian.
Year 12: Sandy Blonde. Funny, great sense of humour. Very committed Christian. Amazing singing voice, calming presence. Sweet but VERY stubborn. Glasses.
Currently: Atheist. Blonde. European descent (read: REALLY good-looking). Fearless, friendly, sexy. Juvenile and kind of a people-pleaser.
The only pattern so far is there were more blondes. Great. I have a blonde fetish. Not helpful because I already knew that. I'll have to think deeper.
I notice that, apart from year 9, they all have really big, bold personalities. And, this time excepting Year 12 all were very sure of themselves to cover up for deep insecurities. So maybe I have a 'saving-people thing' like Harry Potter. Of course deep insecurities covers pretty much anyone in High School so there's not much of an insight there. There is an even spread between Atheists and Christians, so apparently religion neither attracts nor repels me particularly.
There were three with glasses, but again this is no new insight for me. I know I have a bit of a thing for nerds and for glasses.
So, purely on the data at hand, it seems my ideal mate:
- Is a blonde
- Is a bit nerdy
- Is Either Atheist or Christian.
- Is very open and has a bold personality
- Has some serious insecurities.
- Wears glasses
Romantic attraction is still a mystery, even after this highly scientific case study. Well that was a waste of time. Ah well. I finished exams today, it's not like I have anything else I need to do. A whole month totally free now! I celebrated by making wands.
My Polygamist sims family has four children now, all toddler or baby, with another one on the way. It has been helpful having three parents with that many children. I'll have to post about them soon, because quite frankly they are one of my best ever Sims families.
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