Dominic Deutscher is without a doubt the hottest cast member of “Sea Patrol”.
In fact he’s probably one of the hottest guys on TV.
That ass! (Yeah I know I’m a perv, but meh.)
THAT’S what I’m talkin’ bout!
And of course THAT KISS! (Wish the whole show was like this.)
(via damn-hes-hot)
…Do the Presbyterians think Rocks are animals?
ALL ROCKS GO TO HEAVEN
CONVERTING TO CATHOLICISM DOES NOT MAGICALLY GRANT YOUR DOG A SOUL.
WOW. EPIC CATHOLIC WIN.
I LOVE THIS.
(Source: XO)
It is interesting the way things work out. for one, on a good note. i don’t have glandular fever or anything like that. on the other hand i have circulation problems, so i have to stretch my ankles before i get up. which is why i kept getting dizzy. also i have a sugar problem. this is also called some scientific name. it’s not that bad. which is good, so it should be easyish to control/look after. but it just means that i have to eat every couple/few hours, and eat properly…..well more filling foods…. so it’s a combination of circulation and low sugar. also, because i am skinny, i have a high metabolism. this does not help this problem at all. so i have a circulation and low sugar problem, and also i have a high metabolism. so that means i have to eat more/a lot. fun fun fun fun fun.
i never knew what the female version of a Bachelor is. and i still don’t. i know people would say ‘google it’, but to tell you the truth, i don’t want to know just yet. this thought occured to me after i had finished watching the last two episodes of Doctor Who. one that was last nights, because i wanted to watch the week before’s episode first. which i couldn’t watch as i was trying to do a take home exam.
anyways. they were quite interesting. the Vampires in Venice one, had me a little bit scared to be honest, but i was quite intruiged. at the end, i found that i was leaning forward in the couch that i was sitting on. and not just a little bit, but so that if i had leaned any further, i would have fallen of the couch. Vampire in Venice was quite good, and i am quite enjoying having Matt Smith as the Doctor. he’s just so…so…. i can’t quite put my finger on the word. Awesome? nah, not good enough. Brilliant? hmm maybe. absolutely fantasticlly awesome? ah, now where talkin’ :)
the second one, the one that was on last night, was Amy’s Choice. and one saying that i recall fits into what Amy realised at the end, after Rory dies in the ‘dream thing’. ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’. like you don’t realise how much a person means to you, or how much you like a person until their gone.
anyways, back to the female Bachelor question, i have no idea. but i have been thinking. that maybe i will just stay single the rest of my life, so i’ll just call myself a bachelor, but hang on, that’s the man’s term. but still.
however, i haven’t really made up my mind yet. it is possible to change my mind if someone wanted to. not sure how, or what they would have to do to make me change my mind, but i guess i would have to give it a deadline. well, give myself a deadline to come to a decision. i give myself until the end of june, so really i’ve got a month to decide.
hopefully someone can come up with the answer to the question, ‘what’s a female Bachelor called?’
ciao for now.
yes i’m talking about books. i love books, i’m a bookworm, and not ashamed to say so. during the uni semester i would always curse and say, ‘i want to read, stupid assignments getting on the way’ or something of the sort.
the book that I had read whilst waiting at the doctors on the ‘the day that I had not planned’, Jodi Picoult’s ‘Picture Perfect’, i just recently finished it. like every other book, it makes me think, i sit and reflect. most times than not, it makes me sad, thinking that they get their perfect ending where the girl and the guy have fallen in love and are married or something of the sort. even though this book was not the case. this is the blurb on the back:
‘A woman wakes to find herself lying on top of a grave, her face pressed close to the headstone. she is hurt and bleeding, and her memory has been wiped clean - not only does she not know what she is doing there, but she does not even know who she is.
she is taken under the wing of William Flying Horse, LAPD and, after days of waiting, is taken by complete surprise when she is finally identified and collected by Alex Rivers, Hollywood movie star, and also her husband. her name is Cassie Barrett, and she is a renowned archaeologist, who met Alex on a movie set in Africa.
cassie is dazzled and bewildered by the life in which she suddenly finds herself - the fairytale Bel-Air mansion, all manner of fame and fortune, a successful career, the attentions of a handsome and doting husband. but everything is not quite right, and there is something dark and disturbing behind this glamorous life. it is only as her memory gradually returns that her picture perfect life comes crumbling down, and she is faced with a choice between fear and compassion.’
Cassie remembers Connor, a boy whom she spent a lot of time with when she was a child, they were inseperable. he was her other half. without him around, she felt empty, like she was incomplete. she remembers that his father killed his wife and connor, and killed himself. Connor had died in her arms. she had lost a part of her.
I’m not going to tell you the story, but i will say what it made me think about.
I know how hard it is to loose someone that you love so much, someone that you care about deeply, or someone who you may not know that well, but has touched your heart in a way that you cannot explain. since 2002, maybe even 2001, i have lost so many people that i loved, that i held close to my heart, that had touched my life in a way that i cannot explain.
Kath, was a good friend of my family, and she came up to visit us and stayed at our house for approximately a month. i believe it was in 2001, which would have been when i was in grade 5, only having just turned 9 years old in december. it was sad to see her go, but a month or so afterwards, she had gone. you could say it might have been my first experience of death.
Uncle Kev, which is what me and my siblings called him, he wasn’t actually my uncle, he was the husband of my mum’s godmother. i can’t remember when he died, but i think it was around that year too, or maybe a bit afterwards. but Aunty Clare, mum’s godmother, got cancer, and she died in september of 2003. i remember clearly what she looked like, and i remember the funeral being on the friday, and leaving for canberra on the sunday night with my year 7 class.
Having never met my mum’s mum, it never was a problem to me, as i never knew her. she died in 1988, before i was born. i was told that she had a lovely voice, and i believe that her musical abilites have been passed onto me, and that it has grown with me, as i expanded my musical horizons by playing different instruments. because of this, i only had one grandmother and two grandfathers. unfortunately, i went into my grandmother’s house one sunday with my parents to find out that my grandfather had had a heart attack and had fallen down the stairs. he was in prince charles.
that thursday after school we went down there and got out of the car. i can recall what happened as my father told us he had gone. Thursday May the 9th 2002, at approximately 12noon. years later, we kept getting told what my brother said when he walked in, ‘Mama, you need to get a new husband’, and only being in grade 2, he didn’t understand the meaning of death, and for a good couple of months afterwards, he walked around the house looking for grandpa.
after that, as my mum’s dad was the youngest of 7, i never met the eldest two, but on a few occasions i was able to meet the others and their husband or wife. Aunty Fay, and Aunt Thelma, and also Uncle George, are the three names that i can remember clearly. Uncle George was married to one of my grandfather’s sisters, and a believe he is still going today. but there is no one left except my grandfather.
Having endured so many deaths, but only having a handful that were close to home shouldn’t have troubled me so much. i missed my grandfather, especially as he sat at the end of the table and would grab and tickle me as i walked past. it was always a game to see if i could walk past without him getting me.
nothing hit more close to home when in grade 12 towards the end of the semester break in july, when i overheard my grandmother say something to a friend over the phone. my ex-uncle, who was in cyprus at the time had rung to say hello. every so often he would do that. i remember my grandmother saying, ‘hang-on, i have to tell you something’ and pushed herself out of her chair and shuffled to the hallway. the way she moved is a bit hard to describe in words, but i can picture it clearly in my head. she said, ‘i have b___ cancer’. i missed that word so i was going through all the words i knew. bad cancer, bowel cancer, back cancer, brain cancer. i didn’t know, and my mum told my grandmother when she got off the phone, that she thinks that i heard. and i did ask my mum at home what happened. my mum told me that when she had the fluid drained from her lungs, they found cancerous cells in it. they didn’t know where from, but that’s just what happened.
it was indeed the worst time to find out, and a month later, only a week or so before the dreaded QCS test, my uncle (mum’s brother) rang and asked if they could come over that night, as their dad had something to tell them. that night, my uncle and grandfather turned up. afterwards i asked my parents what he wanted. and i guess my parents realised that they wouldn’t of been able to keep that information away from me as i would have annoyed them until they told me. i found out that he had dementia.
that december i found out that he had epilepsy as well. but that november on the night that we had the graduation ceremony and mass, my grandmother was there. it made me happy to see that she was there. she had wanted to go. and she got there. my mum said that there was no point her dad going as halfway through he would have said ‘why are we here?’ because of his dementia. i couldn’t help but have a massive smile on my face when i walked over and gave my gran a big hug, and one of my teachers ‘Miss P’, came over with a tray of food.
my grandmother taught me everything i know about cross-stitch and tapestry, also long-stitch, and she even taught me how to sew on a button, though to be honest i have forgotten, not having practiced it. she also taught me how to crotchet and how to knit. these things i know even though i might not use them for a while, i would be able to pick them back up, maybe or maybe not have to read over a brief instruction, and i would remember what to do. with cross-stitch, that won’t be the case. i’ve done so many, including one my first ones, ‘paddington bear’. she helped me with his hat, and helped me put it in a frame. it is now sitting on the sideboard opposite my bedroom door.
i knew that time with her was precious, and when i wasn’t at uni last year, i was at her house. if i had a class that finished at 12pm, i would get the shuttle bus, get the train and walk to her house. i would then procceed to raid her fridge for something to eat. something which she never cared about. one of her motto’s is, ‘if you leave this house hungry, it’s your own fault’, and it’s one motto that i will use myself. i loved spending as much time with her as i could in that first semester, as at the end of june i got a job at an out of hours care, and because of that, i was not able to spend as much time with her. though i was grateful that i never had to work on a weekend, as saturday’s and sundays meant that on one day we would go and annoy her for lunch. something that she loved. she called us her ‘cyclone’, and because i had keys to her house, when i came from uni and she was in the kitchen, i would say, ‘it’s just me, i’m breaking in’, and more times than not she would laugh.
i won’t go into details, but from december the 8th, last year, until the 31st january this year, she was at Prince Charles Hospital. during the first couple of weeks, they found out that the cancer had gone around the spine and was pinching nerves, hence the pain she was in. she had to go and have 5 rounds of radium treatment at the Royal, three of which was when i was down in sydney. in someways i didn’t want to go because i wanted to stay at home where i would have been able to go and see her, but at the same time, i knew that she wanted me to go. she told me to have fun. not that an ACUNSA conference was supposed to be fun. though the experience was one i won’t forget, with the fantastic view from the hotel, to the brilliant friends i made whilst there.
those many trips during that time to the Pallative Care unit where she was, are some that i will not forget. i remember when she was still able to stand up, she was in the chair, and she was swinging her legs with her hands on the edge of the seat. on her face was a cheeky grin. to this day, that memory of her doing that reminds me of a little child, being cheeky. though i do remember that she was stubborn as. and also that she loved us to pieces. i was at a band rehearsal when it happened. it was actually the first band rehearsal for the year. i remember that whist playing, around 6:30pm or a bit afterwards, that my eyes filled with tears, and i fought myself to stop them. not knowing that she had gone. when i got home and my mum said whilst my sister was there, i smiled. my sister had a go at me for smilling, but i couldn’t help it. i did cry, yes. but my first reaction was to smile. she wasn’t in pain anymore. she was free. and she went on the night of her wedding anniversary. she went and joined her husband, my grandfather.
i also remember the last words i said to her, the last time i saw her. it was on australia day, and it was the last time i saw her. i could have seen her on the saturday, the day before she died, but i heard that she was all drugged up, and i didn’t want to see her that way. i wanted to remember her the way she was, all smiling, a bit annoyed because she couldn’t do her cross-stitch or jigsaws, but smiling. i spoke to her the day after on the phone. on the wednesday night. the last words i said to her was, ‘i love you mama’, and she said, ‘i love you too’, and quietly, i said, ‘bye’, as i handed the phone over to my brother. not knowing that that would be the last time that i would speak to her. the last time that i would hear her voice.
i still miss her. being four months tomorrow since she died. time just flys so fast. all those memories of her i can still picture those times in my head. her giving me my birthday present whilst lying in the bed in the pallative care unit. it was on my birthday, and it meant a lot to me to have been able to have spent time on my 18th birthday with her. the inspector rex series 8 dvd box set is one that i will cherish, and one that i will keep no matter what. that is the same with a number of items she has given me over the years. no matter where i go, no matter where i live, they will stay with me, in my house or apartment. i loved her, and it’s hard letting go.
what makes it even harder is that my grandfather is dying. he’s at prince charles at the moment, and has been since the 19th may. the day of the choir concert. that morning, i was at home, as i had to look after my brother, as he wasn’t at school. i did go to my class, but that didn’t start until 3pm. my brother answered the phone. it was my step-grandmother. all she told him was that he had a fall and was at prince charles. i know more, but not much more. though i do know that he is not the grandfather i saw in february, not the grandfather i grew up with, not the same.
i know i’ve rattled on for a bit, but it proves my point. it made me reflect on things. i understood some of the things that were happening in the novel, even though i havent been in that situation.
it also made me realise and reflect, that you love someone, not because you know that you can live with them, but because you can’t live without them. even though they might not know that you like them, which in my case he doesn’t, despite the fact that someone kept teasing me about liking him. it didn’t even phase me last year when he told me he had a girlfriend, whom i saw, but was never properly introduced. he doesnt have one now, but just being apart is hard. even though i lasted from the end of semester last year until sometime in march this year, and only saw him a few times, it still is hard. i thought i got rid of my feelings for him, threw them out the back window. but seeing him around the middle of february, probably before orientation week, it hit me again. i don’t know why, but no matter how hard i try, it’s impossible to get rid of. though i do know that when i was with him, talking about my gran and everything, that i felt complete, like nothing was missing, and i could talk about it without bursting out crying.
there is another guy that i kinda like, who has helped me through alot, as this other guy has been really busy. but when i was with him, i was always a bit nervous, a bit shy. and i guess that might be the other end of the scale, where things might fit easily with one and there is not really much nerves at all, compared to being a bit nervous, and not wanting to act like a complete fool so to speak.
and i’m rambling on again. but what i guess i’m trying to say with this is, that when their not around, or you know they are leaving for a while, or they are gone for good, its hard.
and you see this in novel’s like this. and it made me realise how lonely i was, and i found myself asking, ‘why haven’t i ever had a boyfriend? is it because i’m stupid, or ugly, or something?’ i didn’t and still don’t understand. not that i think that there is much to understand about it.
but it with books like these, or in my case, books in general, whether i’d be reading an biography about the life of Mozart or i’m reading a Nancy Drew Mystery, you can learn many things.
like a few of us might have discovered when reading Ray Bradbury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451’, a character called Faber had told Montag, the main protagonist, that it was not the books that they needed, it was what was in the books that humanity needed. the values and the beliefs, or the things that you learn or what to know more about after reading about it in a book, are the things that we need in life. many people today turn their noses up at books, saying it’s a waste of time, or that they can’t be bothered reading. my suspicion is that some of these people turn out to be violent. including the adolescents of today. they go out and beat up some poor kid, where instead, from a young age, they could have been taught to read. and by reading, you can learn things like compassion, like the compassion to help an elderly person across the street, or the compassion to donate money to charity, even if it is only 5 or 10 cents. or even the compassion to listen to a friend when they are having a bad day, and to hug them when they cry, or when you can sense that that is what they might need. and you will know if they don’t want a hug, as they will push you away and say ‘wtf’, or something like that. but more times than not, by learning all these things from books, and by listening and being their for your friends, you will beging to understand yourself, and you will begin to understand the world around you.
and it all begins with one thing.
reading.
As some of you might know, i’m starting to get pissed off about still being sick. since the weekend before anzac day, i’ve been sick on and off, like it would go away, not completely, but still mostly, and then it would come back again. it’s really frustrating.
anyways, on friday was the Social Justice Youth Forum. it was a little bit hectic with having about 400 students there or something. it was nuts. but it went quite well. however, near the end of the day and on my way home on the bus, i remember thinking, ‘maybe i should have a cold and flu tablet or something’ because i was really heady, blocked nose and that. but my parents said, just have an early night, put Vicks on feet and chest and you see how you are in the morning.
i was supposed to work from 11:30-4:30pm yesterday. i love where i work, and i’m being completely honest. i love where i work, as there are so many lovely customers, and the people i work with are really nice and friendly, though we do joke about different things, and my department manager (customer service/checkouts area) is one of the lovelist ladies you will ever meet. and no i’m not lying just because i’m writing about work on the internet. i am being honest.
so i went to bed around 8pm, and woke up around 7:30am, checked the time and went back to sleep. i then didn’t wake up until about 9:45am, so if i was to go to work, i would have had plenty of time to get ready. but when i woke up and was actually awake awake, not completely, because i couldn’t be bothered getting out of bed. i was aching all over. it was like the weekend before anzac day all over again. except this time was different. i thought i had a head cold, but my parents thought differently. my mum thought that i might have what she had (thanks mum), so my dad rang up my work to say that i couldn’t come in.
he spoke to a lady who works upstairs, and he wasn’t very happy with her tone of voice. he said that we were going to the doctors that day to see what was wrong and to get a medical certificate. and she had the hide to say, ‘she probably doesn’t have much, as she’s been so sick lately’, and that really annoyed my dad.
anyways, so much for my last trip to the doctor. i went up that afternoon, as mornings for my doctor is always busy, now that he is at a medical centre at Murrumba Downs. he’s been my family doctor for years, and he looked after my grandmother, often sitting down and having a coffee and a chat with her as he did home visits. it wasn’t until early last year when he moved out of his own practice into the medical centre place.
so went and seen him, and he told me that i had one of the bad viruses that was going around. thanks mum i said. she probably gave it to me, considering my immune system isn’t a 100% because of exhaustion and a number of other things including getting sick over a month and a half ago.
so i was not happy. but at least this time i have antibiotics that will hopeully get rid of it for good this time.
the only other thing was that yesterday, my parents, well mainly my dad, kept teasing me about talking in my sleep. my mum came into my room friday night, as i had ‘said’, ‘get the royals off the stage’, and my mum went, ‘what?’ and i was told i replied, ‘get the royals off the stage’. my mum then said, ‘what do you mean’, and i was told that i had said, ‘you wouldn’t understand’, rolled over and didn’t say another word. i had no idea that this happened, and i know that my parents will keep bringing this up. it’s quite annoying. i have absolutely no control whatsoever if i talk in my sleep.
but anyways, that wasn’t the day i had planned. i had planned to get up, get ready for work, go to work, come home, have dinner and relax, but no.
stupid virus. *shakes fist*
i’ve never actually had one before. but i guess it might explain some things, like exhaustion for no aparrant reason, and random dizzyness, and a few other things. am i scared?? maybe….just a lil’ bit…..
