Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Him.

I love that he looks for me first everytime he signs into messenger.
I love that everytime he finds out something new about me, he recites every single thing that he knows, such as Indian food is my favourite kind of take-out, orange tic tacs, orange soothers, kleenex tissues, pumpkin soup and hypoallergenic pillows are necessary when I'm sick, I love penguins and I reckon the best colour in the world is red. He knows the small details about me that people overlook, like the fact that I have a mole on the side of my big toe on my left foot and that I bite my fingernails unwillingly. I know his secrets too, like that he has a stuffed snow leopard that he sometimes drags out of his den when no one is around and if he was an animal, that's the one that he would be.
And his text message every single night of "sweet dreams, x", that's my favourite - so thank you, I appreciate you more than you'll ever know.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Precious Treasures

I want to be that age again; the age where you don't feel embarrassed to be seen holding your daddy's hand walking down the street. You don't feel completely humiliated when you are seen holding your blankie and sucking your thumb. You don't feel uncomfortable, or nervous to ask your mother to tuck you into bed and gently stroke your hair until you fall asleep. You can be seen wearing an Elmo shirt in public, share your ice cream with your dog and you're utterly oblivious to how bad the world can be. Your mother's lipstick looks cute, not ridiculous on you and butterfly kisses are obviously a daily ritual.

So many things I should have treasured a little bit more.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Society and Culture Task.

My name is Rebekah Grace and I am almost seventeen years of age. I am just over 5ft tall, I am stubborn, I believe that Jesus died for my sins and I have an uncanny infatuation with the colour yellow. I have never left Australia, only travelled to Queensland, respect people who live their lives to the full and sometimes like to awkwardly dance in the rain.

I love writing, reading, sport and church. These four things are my main interests and they are therefore a giant part of my life. I admire many writers (such as Jodi Picoult) who are able to take small things and make them sound completely beautiful. It’s something I wish I could do. A quality I like to think I have is that of humour. I think that if everyone laughed a little longer, then things would be okay.

I have a blanket that I acquired when I was younger. I’m almost never without it. I guess I’m pretty attached to it. Another item of mine that rarely leaves my side is my Kleenex box. I’m sick a lot. A major skill that I posses is the ability to whistle through my nose. It sounds like a train. Also, I am a vegetarian. I respect vegetarianism. I am lactose intolerant. I hate it. My friends and family mean the world to me and I have decided that I am happy.

Forgive and Forget?

I don't forgive people because I am weak.
I forgive people because I understand that they make mistakes, that people change and that one action shouldn't define someone for the rest of their life
.


It's hard though, isn't it? If someone does something so dramatic, so seemingly unforgivable, something that impacts and affects your life so much, no one WANTS to forgive. Forgiving hurts. Forgiving takes time. Forgiving is difficult.

I've learnt to not hold grudges, because I'd like to be treated in the same way. There have been many times when I've needed to be forgiven - because I'm not perfect. WE are not perfect. None of us.

There are definitely things that I can completely see why someone couldn't forgive - a broken relationship with a parent, someone hurting you in some way, whether it be mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually - maybe even something worse, like being abandoned, being kicked out of home. But not forgiving drags you down too. It grabs a hold of you until you start to lose sense of who you are and where you're going.

Forgiving hurts. But not forgiving hurts too.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

OCD and other spiderwebs.

"I have CDO. It's like OCD, except all the letters are in the right order - LIKE THEY SHOULD BE!"
Funny quote, eh?
I have often read in magazines stories of teenagers who feel they have to wash their hands a certain number of times. Or have to do the exact same amount of situps every day. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - everything must be right, perfect. The same. It's something I have never really understood - how people could go to such extremes. But then last night, I was looking at my bookshelf. Sure, it was unorganised, but by no means terrible. I couldn't resist it though. I walked to my bookshelf, pulled every friggen book off the shelves and organised them into different piles - a 'like' pile, a 'dislike' pile and an 'old' pile. I stacked them up so they fit properly and then yawned. Looking down at my watch, I realised it was 20 minutes to midnight ... what the hell was I doing? I hopped into bed. I realised my cupboard was slightly ajar. I got out of bed. I shut the cupboard. I zipped up my school bag so it didn't piss me off. I jumped back into bed and proceeded to stare at the ceiling for an hour.
It's all well and good for us to not understand why people do what they do, until we're doing the exact same things that they're doing.
Sorry. Not so uplifting.
x

Friday, July 10, 2009

Just Because.

I could lay there all day ...

Fight or Flight.

This week I asked God to help me learn from the things around me, the situations that happen, the things that people say.

My dog.

Never think you would learn anything from a dog, right?

His name is Jay Jay.

Jay Jay has this intense disliking of vacuum cleaners. If one comes near him, he snaps, biting, growling, barking.
So today when I was vacuuming and it came near the back door, he did just that. But after a few snaps at the glass and he realised his howling and growling wasn't getting him anywhere, he just removed himself from the situation, went and laid down in the sun without a second glance and left me to complete my vacuuming in peace.

When YOU get into an argument with someone, do you bite back snapping? Or do you leave straight away and don't get involved? It's not flight or fight. It's something that is unnecessary.

x