Ugh.. The Future

Dear blog, I thought you were dead. You’re not. 

The future. I think it speaks somewhat for itself. It is fear inducing to even the strongest of achievers, and equally scary to people who are young as it is to the old. I must firstly be frank here, and say that it was the recent episode of glee that has be feverishly typing at my computer, deep into the early hours of the morning. The future is becoming more and more of a recurring theme on the show, and I could certainly see the similarities between what I am experiencing now to what myself and others are undergoing. I feel like there is so much negativity that surrounds the phrase “where are you headed” and yet girlfriend, we’re actually heading towards the freaking yellow brick road. Or towards a successful career in business or to chase the American dream, or to Glen Innes to get a Mc Chicken burger, it’s your choice really. The reality is there is a road pointing in all directions possible, some good, some bad. Sometimes you will come to realise you are on the wrong road, and will do a dangerous maneuver, cutting across several lanes of traffic to leave that road and find another. I have had to drill it into my head that I won’t necessarily find myself on the right road in the beginning. This is where the stupid metaphors stop. RIP my friends. On a loosely related thought, Twitter sent me an epiphany recently, or rather made me aware of the ‘first world problems’ saying, in which many of our day to day traumatic experiences such as not being able to find the right ball dress, or falling down the stairs of our palatial Remuera mansions are actually problems only us in the first world get to experience. And when we say we are starving, that is technically a first world problem, as we are not literally starving like the folks over at the third world problems department. I mean seriously. 

For the few of you who haven’t slipped into a coma from excitement at this post, I promise I have a point here. I became aware that complaining about the future and essentially tertiary study directions is a huge first world problem. We have something that so many people would dream to have that is pretty much laid out in front of us, like one of those meat plates at the Pak’n’Save deli. The ability to better yourself thorough education is awesome really. There is no punchline to this entry, I backspaced it. You are the weakest link, Goodbye. 

Ben. 

Loosely Arranged Thoughts

Dear blog, its been awhile.

Not much has happened apart from me changing my decision on what I want my career to be.. approximately every 4 minutes. This is obviously stressful and confusing and I have turned into a bit of a human zombie in the process. I suppose it is normal to be worried for the future but it can be quite taxing on your overall mood. Sometimes I wonder whether in this day and age we are taught to grow up too fast and end up sounding upset and worried 24/7- this is a ravine I refuse to fall into. I know positivity is key but this is also not always easily achievable- then again, some of the world’s greatest success stories have come from people who have hit rock bottom, that being the driving force to in turn propel them forward in life. Most of us want to be successful, I believe success depends on what you define as a success- It can be something as great, or small, as you like.  I once heard a quote or something of the sort, which stated something along the lines of: “What would you attempt, it you knew you could not fail at it”. I like that one. *stares creepily into space*

In other news, holidays are coming up.. Also the magic themed mufti day- in which I will be wearing elf ears, so the student council the little tight knit super power that we are will be expecting everyone to get involved and wear something magic themed. I feel like I’m talking to my self, this is like one of those venting blog posts that you write not planning to publish but end up doing so anyway.

I feel like I should have something dramatic to say, like i’m moving to Australia, but I don’t. On the subject of Australia it looks like the most amazing country to me, I want to/plan on living there. I’ve been liking the sound of Melbourne because it seems to be a modernistic, populated hub but then again there’s always Sydney, Adelaide etc but for some reason I can hear Melbourne calling my name from across the ditch.. *listens intently*. I am dying to go to Australia this year to have a look around but alas i’ll have to earn some money which would mean moving, which would be in the form of crawling as i’m particularly decrepit at the moment. Oh well, I you can dream it you can do it.. I suppose.

That concludes todays blog entry. Leave a comment below on what you are wearing to the mufti day, or where you have been/recommend I live in Australia and why. I never get comments despite plenty of you reading this thing (yes, I stalk the stats) so it would be very enlightening. Also include future ideas for posts as I’m open to ideas. 

..Ben :)

How to Make Cupcakes- IN A rush - with improper ingredients (pics to come)

1. Secure the area. Pets such as rabid dogs (My Miley) should not be allowed anywhere near the food prep area (note the hospitality jargon).
2. Find a recipe.
3. Google a recipe because you have lost your recipe book.
4. Attempt to fix modem in order to actually complete a google search for a recipe. 
5. Print recipe, or alternatively run constantly back and towards between the computer and the kitchen to read the recipe.
6. Check that you have the right ingredients- if not you can substitute things. 
7. Google substitute for flour.
8. Begin mixing ingredients with chalk dust in the place of white flour. 
9. Scare pesky animals that may have entered the kitchen *shoos excited dog*
10. Break eggs.. preferably not on the floor..  
11. Flavour your cupcakes with things such as milo for chocolate and extra chalk dust for vanilla. 
12. Ice cupcakes... with icing sugar... or KFC Krushers
13. Share your culinary creations with friends. :)

Antics of the Animal-Obsessed

As I sit here on this chilly night with my dog, she lifts her head, her beady little eyes scanning me and the room like an x-ray machine, searching for the slightest morsel of food. She quickly bores of this and soon returns to feverishly sniffing her leg, a terrible habit which I am yet to address. When I watch this evil little creature go about the house cannot help  but rem inis on an old obsession of mine. This obsession was no childish phase over a toy or a superhero, this was something quite different. It was a thing that consumed me, not a moment went by that I did not think about it. I was madly obsessed with animals. (no joke, it was bloody scary).

From a young age I was entranced by these furry creatures that appeared to have melded so smoothly in to our world. I suppose thats a bit of an understatement.. I lived and breathed animals. I stalked people’s pets, capturing cats in my backyard and attempting to almost brainwash them to think they were my own. It became an obsession and by about age 10 I could name almost every dog breed and have gone on to be able to identify a large amount of cat breeds for some reason. A I got older I began to mutate into an animal fueled monster, prancing around my backyard with possessed eyes attempting to grab birds, butterflies, spiders and even moths. I became crazy about insects, spending days on end teaching my friends how to catch bees (with bare hands). In fact it was quite common to see me walking in my typical pointless fashion with a bee in my hand, which would at some stage sting me-I would cry, vowing to never touch a bee-but alas do it all over again the next day. 

I used my insects to scare people, they became my little army of evil creatures that I was able to use to my advantage. Spiders were my main weapon of choice, I discovered I could manipulate people by cornering them with a spider until I got exactly what it was I wanted, which was coincidentally for people to buy me more animals.. It never worked. 

Despite becoming an expert at catching insects, I had little success in capturing the poor defenseless mammals in my garden and soon learn’t that I was going to have to become more resourceful if I wanted to acquire a fluffy pet. I would like to be dramatic and say I started sketching radical methods to catch the animals but I simply wasn’t that intelligently advanced as a young child. However, by one way or another, I worked out how to create booby traps, and dug holes in my garden which I covered with plant matter in a desperate attempt to trick mice and dare I say it rats into becoming part of my evil clan. I was particularly attracted to rodents during this period which I find horrifying as they are more revolting than than Beatrice’s pretzel hat. 

Luckily I am now much older and have recovered from the animal obsession I experienced as a young boy. Almost with tears in my eyes I cancelled the several animal magazine subscriptions I used to receive, and with a heavy heart recently half-filled my recycle bin with more of the magazines that I had accumulated. I had simply reached rock bottom and had come to the conclusion that my addiction had to be addressed. It certainly wasn’t easy. Throwing all those magazines into the bin was like throwing old friends in the bin: they’ll probably die, and then you will get into shit when the authorities found out it was you that put them in there........ yeah.. that was probably the worst analogy I have made in my entire life. But, the moral of the story is, animals don’t really care about you, so if you put all your friends in the bin, you’ll have no one. So cherish your friends.. or i’ll find you and eat you. 

..Ben... 

Crude Job Observations

The question “Am I Employable” is a difficult one. I mean, I work reasonably hard with a reasonable rate of success but will anybody ever want me to work for them. For those of us who aren’t airs to millions of dollars *cough* Paris Hilton *cough*, having a job can be the difference between living comfortably and crouching outside italian restaurants begging for scraps for the rest of your life.

A job can have many different definitions depending on who you are. For example if I had low standards I would maybe aim to work for Mac Donald’s with the hope of being promoted to McCafe (exciting..) and If I had high standards I could theoretically be aiming to be head of a large global cooperation, however this is not likely as I fear the evil that is associated with these businesses *cough* BP oil scandal *cough*. Some people define their jobs as a way to make money full stop, but others actually enjoy them .. shock horror. 

Others see their jobs as daunting, then again some seem to subconsciously use them as a tool to spy on people. I recently went to a popular Indian restaurant with some friends, for, not surprisingly, a curry. The waiters seemed to be reasonably professional and efficient but there was one unusual waitress of which gazed at us consciously for the duration of our meal, so close that I wondered if she thought her unflattering apron-thing was an invisibility cloak. I was told she was there to ensure that we didn’t run off without paying, more like some sort of crude stakeout if you ask me. So does having a job give one the right to act weirdly?  According to the ignorance she received, yes.

Apparently I am the only one who feels uncomfortable around wait staff in restaurants. Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind a bit of banter with them, but when it comes to the crunch I’d rather not have miss invisibility-apron breathing down my neck. My friends seemed oblivious to the presence of the waitress, and that my blog buddies is the key to it- to be seen but not heard in your jobs. This is the best piece of advice you will ever read [citation desperately needed].

I warn you now, to beware of the conniving wait staff. They no your secrets, your lies, your address and worst of all: they may just know your favourite type of curry.... 

..Ben

Mediocre Fashion Advice for Winter

I think we’ve all noticed the weather take a turn for the worst in the last couple of days, well I guess I have an excuse for not leaving the confines of home now. I’m like a prisoner trapped behind bars that are the aggressive streaks of rain plastered to the window. I’m joking, I love a warm and snug day now and again (thats an understatement, i never really leave the house). However cozy it is inside our houses we are going to have to venture outside at some stage, you may have friends to see, things to do and places to be (I wish) so you’re going to need some stylish and comfortable attire in order to brave the elements.  

I’m no fashionista but I don’t like to look drab and cheap, raggedy homeless person is so last season people. If you want to ever be employed or actually approached as a socially acceptable person you’re going to have to put some thought into what you wear. To prepare for winter we’re going to need to find things that look smart but are very user friendly at the same time. 

For men venturing into the colder months, I think shirts and sweater vests are very cool and are definitely an option for someone wanting something a bit different, (I’ve just bought one) because trying different things is fun. I’ve always felt nicely shaped blazers are very interesting but I’m yet to find one that I can see myself in as I hate garments that are notably to large and over-bearing on emaciated people such as myself. 

Dark colours are also great to reflect the depressing nature of the weather.

And that is about the extent of my knowledge of fashion...... extensive.......... Not

.. Ben :)

Fainting Fun

Contrary to the title, fainting is not as fun as it looks in the movies. I should know, as for some reason I am incredibly prone to it at the moment. To set the scene I was at the gym one day working on my guns (which don’t actually exist but I can pretend) when I suddenly felt sick, and to cut a long story short collapsed into the arms of my trainer. I was out cold for 30 seconds, and to my disappointment did not have any epiphanies while I was unconscious. So then, I wondered, as my gollum-like body lay sprawled on the floor: why the balls did this happen? After doing some brief research I discovered that I am not intelligent enough to understand the logistics of blacking out, and I should therefore rely on illogical conclusions I have drawn out myself. 

So, getting out a pen and paper I began to jot down the possible reasons for my passing out. I eventually decided that I was either a) lovestruck b) allergic to exercise c) so skinny that I am sick. I eventually decided that the best option was to take myself to the doctor to get a check-up. The doctor concluded that nothing appeared to be wrong with me (apart from anxiety issues and crazy syndrome) but it would be best to get some blood tests done to look at the bigger picture. I must admit I am not the biggest fan of needles (understatement) but I duly hopped back into my little car and went to have some tests done.

The little asian nurse at the lab was the cutest thing ever, lets call her ‘Jenny’, and sat me down to have my blood taken out of me. I guess I began to freak out when my blood was purple but I am also a self -diagnosed colour blind citizen so I just put it down to my awful interpretation colours. As ‘Jenny’ drew the blood from my arm (which is about as thick as a walking stick) I stared hard at the weird pac man-like drawings on the wall. The pac man-like ‘things’ scowled at me and I was bought back to my time in Japan, but thats another post for another day. Anyway- back at the lab I began to sweat like crazy person (which I suppose I am) and my vision very quickly went blurry and weird. I told ‘Jenny’ that I was about to black out and she responded by crazily trying to lift me out of the chair I was on and onto the floor (‘Jenny’ is about as tall as a four year old and her attempts at moving me on her own accord were frivolous). I told ‘Jenny’ that I was perfectly fine to move myself to the floor, so I did so and she shoved a bin under my legs to get the blood flowing towards my heart. 

So I suppose ‘Jenny’ saved me from fainting and cracking my head open which is quite nice... I must admit that I hope this is the end of my fainting chronicles. Maybe it is a mind game I am playing with myself but I hope to say ‘Sayonara’ to these situations once and for all. Lets hope that when my purple blood samples come back they will be able to tell me something.. good things!

Ben :)