Parents

I was talking to someone last night and he told me his mum often looks over his essays at uni coz she has "written a fair few essays in her time".
It made me think, my parents probably have never written ONE essay between them.
Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of my dad for all he's done as a property developer, building the first and only load bearing straw bale house in the Wairarapa, even if some of his ventures did leave him bankrupt.
And my mum, I love her to death and I always will and she's had years of experience in a variety of different jobs but neither of them are academically intelligent.
If I went to either of them and asked them to read an essay I'd written, neither of them would know what to do with it.
I felt somewhat jealous of this person because his parents are clearly intelligent people who are university educated, hence why he himself is so intelligent.
Would I have been any smarter if my parents had been university educated as opposed to highschool dropouts?
Would my mind work faster?
Like I said, I do love my parents for their achievements but I can't help but wonder if they could have made me better by bettering themselves.
I know a lot about building and stuff because I asked a lot of questions of dad and he was willing to teach me what he knew.
But if I had parents who had gone to university, maybe asking questions of them would have been more fruitful for me in my future professions.
Mind you, I have heard from someone else who has highly academic parents that sometimes he feels dumb compared to them.
And he is anything but dumb, he's one of the most intelligent people I know but because his parents were always smarter, they had the ability to put him down and make him feel stupid.
They would patronise him about the things they knew that he didn't etc.
Maybe I'm lucky to have the parents I have and I do love both of them a lot.

Varelai.

Costanza

I'm going to the doctor today.
I have self diagnosed, of course.
The only time I go to the doctor is when my physical pain hurts more than the price the doctor charges hurts my wallet.
This is one of those times, I am itchy, so itchy I can't stand it anymore so going to the doctor is the only way.
I know it will hurt my wallet, it always does, which is why going to the doctor is not an every day thing.
Usually I save up my hurts and itches and whatever else so that when I go to the doctor, I get my moneys worth by seeing them about more than one thing at once.
My list is currently at two things but one, the reason I'm willing to spend money at the doctor is annoying/hurting me more than the other so it is definitely time to go.

On a less gruesome note, I am putting the Costanza back into my life.
For a long time, I could strongly relate to George Costanza from Seinfeld.
Lately, my life has been lacking the goodness of life lessons of Costanza.
So now, I'm working on doing the opposite of everything I've ever done.
So for example, when my flatmate brings around a hot boy, instead of hiding in my room, maybe I'll leave my room and speak to him.
Maybe I will not say embarrassing things or wring my hands in nervousness but maybe I will bring my confidence and talk to him like he's just another person.
It worked for Costanza so it should work for me.
Also, it's about not using the word "but", it's about being positive and putting my life in perspective.
Yesterday's blog was about perspective.
You think your life is bad?
At least you're still alive. That was the point I was trying to make.
P E R S P E C T I V E.

Gonna have my itchies fixed in an hour =)

Varelai.

You know what they do to guys like us in prison

I went to school with two girls who were murdered by their stepdad in Masterton in 2001.
Every day I thank God that Bruce Howse is rotting in jail where he belongs.
Olympia Jetson and Saliel Aplin were only 11 and 12 when Howse felt the need to end their lives in the family sleepout, one warm December night.
Last night I was looking at a Facebook page for my old school and there was a picture of Olympia singing in the choir.
It broke my heart because on the Facebook page, there are many other people from the school who have joined and they're all grown up.
It's amazing to see these kids I knew when we were 10-11 are DOING something with their lives now.
Not Olympia, she never had a chance.
She's not going to university or working at the local paper or doing a course or having children, she will never do these things.
The strangest thing was, we all heard when she died that she had written "my dad is going to kill me" in the back of one of her notebooks before it happened.
I feel so sad for her. Someone commented on the photo "is that Olympia?" and someone else replied "yea, it is..."
Everyone in Masterton knows what happened, particularly if they went to that school, we had a memorial service for her.
The ... after that comment says enough. They didn't have to discuss her death, they just knew.
When I saw the picture, I didn't have to read the comments to know it was her. I saw her face and my heart sank.
She doesn't have a future.
Howse will be in eligible for parole in 2026, I hope he dies in prison, but I know, even if he does, that's not going to bring back the girls. Howse rotting in prison, doesn't change the fact the girls, who would now be 19 and 20 are not here.
It's barely enough punishment but in fact, the Judge was quite proud just how much time he got.
I hope they do nasty things to him in prison, he doesn't deserve more than that.

Varelai.

They'll never let it go

Whenever transexual former MP Georgina Beyer is mentioned in the newspaper, it is always that.
"transexual MP" and recently my colleague wrote "sex change politician".
I don't get why people won't let the fact that she had a sex change go.
Why does it need to be mentioned in every single piece of news?
It's no longer important.
The sex change happened, she was a man and now she's not and that's the end.
Why can't she be known for something more than her past?
I don't think it's fair on Georgie girl to always have that brought up.

Also, I'm not sure if it's irony but it was pretty bloody annoying that after meeting a fire fighter yesterday, last night our smoke alarms went off TWICE in the middle of the night.
Considering the firefighter talked about smoke alarms as well as talking about getting paged at 12:30am and the way it messes up a person's body clock.
Yea... I know now, thank you universe.
It wasn't that the batteries needed changing coz they're fine so I'm not sure what the problem was. There was no smoke and no fire. Just a bloody annoying wake up call.
The only time I will forgive smoke alarms going off is when there IS A FIRE.
Waking me up for nothing makes me tired and frustrated.

Varelai.

The days when I love my job

Today I got to ride in a fire engine.
It was fun, I was happy.
The chief fire officer was very nice.
Also, I got an email that said a person enjoyed what I had written about them and that I had "passion and respect".
I appreciate getting thanked for doing my job.
I just remembered it is pay day tomorrow THANK GOODNESS.
We get paid every fortnight so it is often like living in the poor house in the second week.
Like sure I get paid for my job but the thank you's are the reason I do it.
Sure, this morning I had to run a correction because I fucked up a single word - helicopter instead of plane, but then the day got better and better.
Also, I got a new car today. He's not super new, he's a 1993 Toyota Corona.
But he's new in the fact the Beast, my previous car was built in 1989.
I need to name the new car, naming is always the hard part. He's a blue green colour.
The last car was called Gerard because it was silver, like Gerard's hair when he was publicising the Black Parade.
This car doesn't really give me any cues as to what it should be called but maybe after a bit of a drive, we'll figure it out based on characteristics or something.
I wish I could say I miss the beast but I don't.
It's only been a few hours and I've only driven the new car around the block once in that time but I was in constant fear the beast would do something antisocial like break down or overheat.
Maybe the new car will end up like that too, I don't know.

Good news for anyone who cares, the person I wrote the poem about recently is willing to forgive me and we are currently trying to break the communication barrier by talking on the phone once a week and seeing each other whenever I come home, which is usually every 2 weeks.
She means a lot to me. Over the time we'd been friends we had built something really strong and losing that really hurt me.
I would assume she didn't read my poem but I am hugely thankful to her for being willing to try to repair this.
It is hard to maintain friendships living in another place but having a new car means I may be able to go home more easily.
I hope to get home for good as soon as possible, there is a place I can work closer to home but they do not have a position avaliable currently but the guy I could replace is due to move on, he's high quality, good at his job and deserves to be somewhere better.

Varelai.

Death and confusion

Death always confuses me.
One of the guys at a place I worked for for a few weeks recently lost his daughter. She had some sort of condition and died in her sleep.
Today I found out a girl I used to speak to, lost what I'm pretty sure was her best friend.
On Monday and Tuesday he posted status updates to his Facebook page and on Wednesday he dies.
I'm not yet sure how this boy died but he must have been my age so it's a weird death.
Maybe it was suicide? I'm not sure but it confuses me how someone can be alive one day and dead the next.
A son, a friend, a daughter, a brother, a sister, a cousin, dead.
It makes my stomach feel funny. This guy, he was someone this girl talked about ALL the time. I'm not sure if they ever dated, I don't remember, they may have but his name always came up.
And now his Facebook page is filled with RIP's.
It's hard for my brain to process.
It could be me, it could be my friends. It could happen to anyone at any time and it doesn't have to be cancer where you expect a person to die sooner than anyone else (see my first few blogs about my experience with cancer and dying), it's like just waking up dead.
It's scary that you could be walking down the street and drop dead at any moment or you could be sleeping and pass away.
Is there method to the madness? Is there a list that people are on and when their time is up, that's it?
Who decides who lives and who dies?
Is it random?
You can spend your whole life worrying about your health, exercising, eating healthy, not drinking or smoking, being vegetarian, whatever and you may still just die, through no fault of anyone.
No one hit you with their car, you didn't have a heart attack, you didn't die of cancer, you didn't die of old age, you didn't die of any form of overdose, you just DIED.
Even when a celebrity dies, like Brittany Murphy, particularly if like Brittany they die much before their time, my heart stops for a second, my stomach clenches, my breath hitches. I don't know what to do or say because what can you do or say?
They're gone. But WHY?!
It's the confusion that gets me.
Like Heath Ledger, he was at the height of his career, why, when he overdosed, couldn't they revive him?
Some people get second chances, they get revived.
Ozzy Osbourne died twice when his motorbike fell on top of him and they brought him back to life.
Why didn't Heath get that chance, or Brittany?
What's even more shocking is Brittany's husband dying not even a year later. Of what? A broken heart. Not even any proper cause, just that he LITERALLY could not live without her.
Then there's the afterlife but that's another day. Today is just about confusion. I don't know why young people die, it's unfathomable to me.

And the worst thing is, no one who reads this can help me, no one will ever be able to answer my question and people will keep dying.
As I get older it'll happen even more and to people I know rather than people I only know of.
In the movie Big Fish, a man lives for a very long time. He's not immortal, I don't think but he just has long life.
The question he faces is, is it a gift or is it a curse? He gets to see things happen, but the curse is that before he dies, he must watch every single person he loves die before him.
The dead are lucky, they are at peace, there is no death where they are, they never have to experience another lost loved one but we, we suffer for them, the living are the cursed.

Think about it and if you have any ideas or want to share your thoughts, please do.

Varelai.

Bastardisation

My mum is from a place in Taranaki called Hawera, worse, she is from a town in Hawera called Manaia.
At work I sit next to a reporter who is originally from Taranaki and I was thinking I should ask him how he pronounces the name Hawera.
To make sure I was correct, I Googled 'Hawera pronounciation' and it came up with some very interesting facts.
See, I have listened to mum bastardise the name of her town for years and years by pronouncing it "Ha-ra".
In my job, I believe it is important to correctly pronounce Maori place names so I have always called the place "Ha-wa-da" with R's in Maori often being pronounced as D's.
My colleague also pronounces it correctly.
On Wapedia, Wikipedia for mobile phones, it says:

"The pronunciation of many Māori place names was anglicised for most of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but since the 1980s, increased consciousness of the Māori language has led to a shift towards using a Māori pronunciation. The anglicisations have persisted most among residents of the towns in question, so it has become something of a shibboleth, with correct Māori pronunciation marking someone as non-local."

"A shibboleth is any distinguishing practice which is indicative of one's social or regional origin. It usually refers to features of language, and particularly to a word whose pronunciation identifies its speaker as being a member or not a member of a particular group."

So while people from Hawera say "Ha-ra", because of anglicisation which, "is a process of conversion of verbal or written elements of any other language into a more comprehensible English form for an English speaker, or to become English in form or character", outsiders who don't know there has been anglicisation, will pronounce the name correctly.

This is the truth because every person I've met from Hawera says "Ha-ra" for whatever reason.

Interesting.

Varelai.

The pain reminds us that we're still alive

Hello June, you kinda snuck up on us there.
I guess since we'll be spending the next 30 days together, we should get used to each other.
But please please make this horrible weather go away, we need some December weather, STAT.
So we're half way through the year before we even had a chance to blink.
Amazing.
I've been working now for a month, it's been hard, easy, interesting, boring, depressing, tiring and sometimes a bit of fun.

I'm in quite a lot of pain lately, my neck, shoulders and upper back are killing me with my arms and legs beginning to also take on some of the pain.
Soon I will be in complete pain when my body decides it wants to torture me.
Also, I burnt my tongue on coffee at a nice cafe but still, too hot coffee.
So my tongue also hurts.
It could be from sleeping in an inferior quality bed or it could be from lugging 4 bottles of 4L of water from mum's house to mine. I only had to carry them from the railway station onto the train then off the train at another railway station and to the car then out of the car to the house.
It wasn't that much lugging but I guess it has pained my muscles, even two days later.
I did go to Mum's for the weekend, it was beneficial for me to do so, I miss my house and my cat etc so it was great to see them again.

Recently I've worked out that I spend so much time convincing myself I'm straight and then my brain says "sorry Varelai, fuck you, you like girls" and gives me sexy dreams of a Facebook friend I've met once.
She's a good looking girl for sure and she's gay so maybe having sexy dreams about her is less bad.
But still, it was inappropriate and I do not appreciate my brain giving me these sorts of thoughts.
In the small town I live in currently, it's easier to be straight. It's a small town and in small towns, you will often be stoned or burned at the stake if you are gay, I'm only half joking.
For a while now, I haven't really known what my sexuality is, up here I've been quite boy crazy and am willing to marry a dude and all that stuff but suddenly my brain thinks I need a wake up call and decides to confuse me a little by thrusting a good looking girl in front of me.
I'm still going to feign straight in this town, no one knows my sexuality, no one has asked and I laugh when they joke about "faggotry" so maybe now my hair is longer, they will never know I used to practise faggotry and still sometimes think about the possibility of practising it again.
As you may have read previously, I have written a poem about a girl, she was never my girlfriend but she was a girl who at that time, struck me as beautiful.
I've also written about a guy I'm extremely attracted to and have been for some time.
I like people, I don't like genders. I'm going to fall in love with a person, girl or guy, I don't care what their sexual organs are, I just care that I love them and they love me.
I don't want to cut off my options of love by saying something like "I will never date another girl" coz that is simply not true and will halve my chances of finding love.
I am too young to decide completely on the gender of the person I want to date, especially until I have experienced a proper relationship with both genders.
I just don't want my brain to remind me about how confused I am with this whole issue.

Varelai.