Happy Thoughtless Land

Who was your last kiss?:
I named it Paavo. =)

All together, how many people have you kissed?:
One.

Do your actions ever scare you?:
Occasionally, very much.

Have you ever been in true love?:
In that it was genuinely love? I'd say so.

Ever lied to make someone feel better?:
Indeed.

How do you like being lied to?:
It depends on the lie. If it's a lie that isn't hurtful (like Mum's constant dancing around what that annotation on my first WISC test means), then fine. If it's a lie that's intended to not be hurtful and ends up being five times as hurtful ("we're drifting apart"), then it hurts but the intent's good. If it's a lie intended to be hurtful ("YOU'RE ADOPTED!") then... meet my friend Mr Verpine Shatter Gun.

Did you forgive the person who hurt you the most?:
Perhaps. It's very hard to tell.

Did they deserve to be forgiven?:
Of course.

Can your friends count on you?:
Sometimes.

Are you a good listener?:
Yeah, I've been complimented on my listening skills by random people. (People tend to strike up conversations with me. Maybe it's a sort of charisma?)

Does it bother you when your friends won't help you out?:
Yes. But sometimes I don't help them when I can, or can't help them, so it balances out.

What’s a regret you have?:
Not calling A before she ran away.

Why did you cry last?:
Because it clicked.

Who’s always on your mind?:
Claire. Sophie. Fluffydog. Josh, now. He's getting worrying. The clones (because I'm halfway through a book, and books tend to take over my mind.)

Are you comfortable with your body?:
Except for the neck slippage, yes. Short powerful limbs = awesometastic.

Have you ever broken a heart? Did you feel bad?:
Yes and yes.

Do you believe in god? Go to church?:
Yes and no. As Fifi's mum would say, I'm almost a heathen.

Do you keep a journal that only you should ever read?:
Ha, no. I keep FinDaRianBarr and talk to him.

Can you control your thoughts?:
Sometimes. But sometimes I end up with strange backlash echo-thoughts, which I don't think but which just spring up anyway.

Can you control your actions?:
Are you asking me about free will? I might, I might not. I think I can, sometimes.

How about your emotions?:
Never.

Have you ever done something that was really bad for yourself?:
Yes.

Who is it easiest to be yourself around?:
Clairity. Chewie. The Chomping Cat.

What can always put you in a good mood?:
Gilmore Girls. =D Music with memories attached - Moscow! Star Wars. Sewing. Friends.

Have you kissed in the rain?:
Yes.

Are you able to always be yourself?:
Working on it.

Is there anyone that you care more about than youself?:
Yes.

What do you miss about your past?:
The fact that it's not now.

Are you excited about the future?:
Perisher. HECK YES. (It feels so surreal, though. Perhaps because I'm going to catch a plane at 6:30 in the morning. That's pretty awesome.) Also learning Russian. HECK YES.

Do have any idea of what your future is gonna be like?:
Hopefully happy. =) But Perisher may give me a better idea -- if, for example, I'm any good at teaching. Tutoring's fun because it involves turning boring, boring maths into something interesting.

How do you do in school? Do you try hard?:
It depended on the subject. But when I go back, I'll try hard, because minimum wage sucks. (And because I've seen what the uni students have gone through.)

Do you like to help others? Does it make you feel good?:
Yes and yes.

Are you trust worthy?:
Depending on what I'm being entrusted with.

Did you lie at all in this survey?:
Yes. It's all lies, damned lies!

And I would walk 500 miles,
And I would walk 500 more,
Just to be the girl who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door...

I'm very, very bad at being the level-headed observer.

Guess what just turned up in my email inbox? A New Snowsports Instructor Interview Day confirmation from Perisher!

I'm way too excited over what is basically an email saying "Yep, we processed your form! Come on down, stop on by, hop a Greyhound and fly to a day of craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy skiing and interviews!"

But I'm one step closer to becoming a ski instructor! =D

*dances madly*

Eee!

I can actually take part this year. =D (Pity I went and hacked all of my hair off, it's not long enough to make a wig out of. =/ And it would have been a metre long. LAAAME.)

But I'll have to ask Sadie because of the whole being at work with no hair thing.

And... wow. I'll be bald at my birthday party. =D

Your exact moment of the day is always changing, because the sun never sets at exactly the same time. You are the romantic moments just after sunset when it's still light enough to see your way around outside, and the sky is a blend of reds, pinks, purples, and blues. At this time of day, the light has a special way of making even rundown buildings looks like works of art. You're like that, too – you're always finding beauty and magic in unexpected places. Not only will you wish on the first star you see, somewhere inside, you actually expect that wish to come true.

That's lovely.

Even if it's not necessarily true -- I'm half-romantic, half-cynic, nothing in between. (Anyway, I love twilight. Especially a rainy twilight washed with turquoise and orange and threaded with dove-grey clouds, when everything looks and smells clean.)

The OPs were mailed out today.

I had to pick the lock on our mailbox to retrieve mine, but the shock alone was worth the effort. Amongst the sheets and sheets of technical information and evil QSA propaganda (I kid, it was mostly technical information and a correction form, as well as 'exitlines'), we found what we were looking for.

Overall Position: 2

My reaction?

"WHAT?!"

Yeah, I was expecting a 7.

(Guess what this means. I'm eligible for engineering! And medical science! And, of course, both science and arts. I could be a doctor, if the mood struck me.

A Russian-speaking doctor! =D)

The Maths B exam was surprisingly easy, though I'm almost certain that I used the wrong method on one of the CII/CIII questions. I didn't take anywhere NEAR enough time to do the CI questions, which is a little bit worrying.

(On the other hand, it's very much preferable to the Biology exam. There were 30 knowledge questions and TWO understanding/investigating questions. (Six marks each.) Then there was an essay response to a questionable article, which I got frustrated at because it was wrong on so many levels.)

After the exam, we planned for Schoolies. Now the girls are extremely structured, which makes me feel a lot safer. (And we're having a Bollywood night! =D ...now I have to remember how one makes lassi. It's just plain drinking yoghurt, rose water, fruit, and cardamom/cinnamon [opt], right?)

And this afternoon I got home and had to call the Queensland Studies Authority, wondering if I'd managed to get such a low mark on the QCS that they'd failed me all the way back to year three.

Apparently not. A lady (who will remain unnamed in case she finds my LJ) answered the phone with a bubbly "hello!"

I introduced myself; she said: "Oh, Kat-i-a. Right. Well, I have your QCS Writing Task here."

Was it accidentally plagiarised? No, they didn't mind plagiarism. That had been in the information sheet. One of the examples was lifted directly from some movie.

"It's been shortlisted to go into the Retrospective* as an example. It's quite a good script. They don't necessarily put the very best scripts in," she added hurriedly as I choked. "But we need your permission to enter it."

"Do I get a copy?" I asked, struggling to remember what I'd written. Something about essence, obviously.

"We'll mail you the Retrospective if you get in," she said. "But you'll have to sign the permission form first. Keep an eye out for a letter in the next week."

It's not certain, of course, because this is the shortlist. (It would be hilarious if they'd made a mistake and switched mine for someone else's. Hilarious but not surprising. I thought it was sort of dodgy. =P)

*The 'How-To-Pass-QCS' book with all the answers.

I <3 Liam.

It's under a cut so that nobody gets spoilt. If I get around to it, a commentary that's NOT composed entirely of gibberish will be posted. (James Morrison + Doctor Who = crazy) This isn't really worth reading unless you feel like shrieking madly.

( Utopia )

I remember the moment that I came to terms with mortality.

I was just barely seven, and I was lying in bed. It was dark out, and dark inside as well. It was before I'd worked out that it was possible to read in the light that struggled under the door. (The door didn't fit very well.) As is usual when you are barely seven, I was holding my doll.

She's somewhere in my room. Her arms and legs are thickly cast rubber (or flexible plastic), her head is rubber and slightly crooked because her soft fabric body has been replaced so many times. She never had a name. No name seemed to fit her; she was Emily, Sophie, Amy, Aurelia, and Megan in rapid succession. (There will be no official mention of Diamond, Sapphire, Emerald and Ana Skaraliana. =P) She was just the baby doll.

But I suddenly realised that, one day, she would exist and I would not (physically, at least). She's artificial. Her head and arms would persist in landfill, while even my dust would be redistributed. It was an awesome and terrifying thought, like having Jupiter sneak up on you while you were studying a pebble or a molecule of methane.

I could see it, I could smell it. There was an... impression of everything. It was dark, faintly red, without any other sort of colour. She was lying there, in what memory has redrawn as the ruins of civilisation.

I panicked and flung her out of the bed -- surely if I didn't associate with her I wouldn't have to think about dying. But, of course, it didn't help. After lying awake for some time, I scrambled down the side of the bed and rescued the doll. Then I faced the thought, and tried to see a way around the realisation that one day, I would not be.

The only thing which I could think of is persistence of the soul. Surely the soul has to continue? It's not really connected to the body. It only obeys perception, and it's part of that perception.

(I know, this seems bizarrely profound. It wasn't in those words. Those are the words which I've applied in the time since, because it's a lot more succinct. And I was raised on deep and abstract thought. When I was close to five, my grandfather taught me about perception, symbolism, generalisation and interpretation by telling me to draw a tree. I remember him explaining that the tree didn't actually look the way it did in the drawing, that the drawing was just a way of putting 'tree' down on paper so that other people could understand it. Like writing. Then he pointed out the fact that a photo of an oak, his line-sketch of a gum tree, and my lollipop in a flowerpot all meant 'tree'.

That's why I have no imagination. Educated too early. =P [Well, not really. I was educated at my own level of mental development. It was just a bit accelerated. And then there was school, where they taught me to read and write again. It was so dull and repetitive that I never actually paid attention long enough to learn to tell time.

When first the schools noticed, they wanted to put me up two years - on top of the year that I had technically been put up by. But it was bad enough being six when everyone else was seven. Being six when everyone else was nine? No, thank you.])

Meme - it's short, so I won't cut it.

1. What is your first name? How do you feel about it? It's Katja, and I think it's pretty. It's come to fit me more.

2. Do you feel that a name can influence the course of a person's life? Their personality? To some extent - people do seem to grow into names and come to fit them, but I suspect that our perception of that is actually more to do with coming to associate a certain name with a certain person.

3. Can a person's name sway your opinion of them? Why or why not? No, because names are chosen by parents.

4. How do you feel about the current trend toward androgynous first names? I don't really don't have an opinion, though it is a little unsettling to meet girls named Aiden and boys named Clarice. (I'm far more concerned with names like 'Catatonia'.)

5. Are there any names that speak powerfully to you, whether by association or imagination? Most names, particularly those of family and friends. But then, most words speak powerfully to me.

I am officially in love with Loreena McKennitt's music.

(And many other things besides. n_n)

Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to how this cover relates to driving a car? It could show that young people like to drive, especially if they've been grafted to their significant other... but that's a mite ridiculous.

Damin just looked at me.

I could have sworn that he was, however briefly, Jennifer in feline form.

banblyth is energetic.

You've got the energy level of a small yip-yap dog. And, much like those dogs, I hope you get run over by an ice cream truck. Yeah, that's right. I said it.

wanna know your lj's moodring color? enter your user name and hit the button. (discussion thread)

Happy Seventeenth Birthday, Clairity!



*showers you with love and kittens*

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