So I just wanted to open this post with a nice little piece of wisdom:
"If at first you don't succeed, call it version 1.0"
Or perhaps a joke:
"There are 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don't"
... and it has occurred to me that it possibly is extremely sad that I found these two things (among others from this website: http://nadh.in/docs/geek_jokes/) quite funny - just goes to show im a bit nerdy ... semicolon+close-bracket
(hehehe)
Anyway, to the point of this post ----> If I had to choose between being an adult or a child, I would most definitely choose to be a child.
But why did I even come to be pondering this question in the first place? Well I was in the car with my dad taking my sister to school, and I was off in La-La Land as per usual, thinking about a million different things at once, and that just seemed to pop into my head.
Maybe that's my answer because I never really want to loose the ability to think like a kid (not a goat) - I find the world so much more amazing that way.
************
I once asked someone if they thought I was normal ... to which they replied "normal is overrated", a phrase which I have remembered ever since.
Not to get all lovey-dovey, but I believe everyone is amazing in their own ways, so why be normal when you can be you?! :)
************
Sorry this post isn't very socially awkward - I will try to be a more awkward person tomorrow, which probably won't be hard given there are tradies coming to install stuff in my house and that always ends in me being weird! XP
************
Roses are #FF0000 , Violets are #0000FF , All my base belongs to you
************
I really love those jokes... XD
************
I don't know why I'm so excited about separating things with stars at the moment ... but I am!
^See I'm such a child hahaha
So ... a child I will stay ^_^
(except when in social circumstances where it is befitting that I behave like an adult...lol)
Wednesday 12 December 2012
Friday 19 October 2012
Stomach grumbles...
Hello there fellow bloggerinos,
I was pondering in the shower (as many great minds do) about romance movies.
There always is a scene or two where the protagonist and the romantic item of the story come together and cuddle and kiss and perhaps whisper sweet-nothings in eachother's ears ...
Well, that's all good and jolly, but all those people in the movies share that "perfect moment".
And, believe me, that perfect moment is the best feeling in the world - when you're hugging the person you love and the world seems right ... until you get the tummy grumbles.
Yes - the dreaded, horrible grumbling of ones stomach that is neither subtle nor quiet.
Why must the stomach ruin the beautiful moment!?
It always seems to happen to me - I don't know if anyone else experiences the same symptons of embrassment as I do, but surely it's not normal!
Can you imagine this perfect scene in your mind, where you are lying in a meadow of luscious green grass, below an old oak tree, intently looking deeply into your sparkling vampiric boyfriend's eyes ... and suddenly Kristen Stewart's stomach growls extraordinarily loudly like a fog horn!
WHAT KIND OF A "PERFECT MOMENT" IS THAT?!?!?!?
A perfectly embarassing one...
Well that's effectively what it's like for me with my boyfriend (believe it or not, I have one, and he's very handsome and wonderful!)
But I am sick and tired of having to apologise for the orchestric tones of my stomach ... it only happens after we've been hugging for a while ... so either hugs and stuff are going to have to be cut short, or i'm going to have to Sue my stomach for inappropriate usage of tummy-rumbles....
I was pondering in the shower (as many great minds do) about romance movies.
There always is a scene or two where the protagonist and the romantic item of the story come together and cuddle and kiss and perhaps whisper sweet-nothings in eachother's ears ...
Well, that's all good and jolly, but all those people in the movies share that "perfect moment".
And, believe me, that perfect moment is the best feeling in the world - when you're hugging the person you love and the world seems right ... until you get the tummy grumbles.
Yes - the dreaded, horrible grumbling of ones stomach that is neither subtle nor quiet.
Why must the stomach ruin the beautiful moment!?
It always seems to happen to me - I don't know if anyone else experiences the same symptons of embrassment as I do, but surely it's not normal!
Can you imagine this perfect scene in your mind, where you are lying in a meadow of luscious green grass, below an old oak tree, intently looking deeply into your sparkling vampiric boyfriend's eyes ... and suddenly Kristen Stewart's stomach growls extraordinarily loudly like a fog horn!
WHAT KIND OF A "PERFECT MOMENT" IS THAT?!?!?!?
A perfectly embarassing one...
Well that's effectively what it's like for me with my boyfriend (believe it or not, I have one, and he's very handsome and wonderful!)
But I am sick and tired of having to apologise for the orchestric tones of my stomach ... it only happens after we've been hugging for a while ... so either hugs and stuff are going to have to be cut short, or i'm going to have to Sue my stomach for inappropriate usage of tummy-rumbles....
Sunday 7 October 2012
I might be brunette, but some days I really am blonde....
Hey there fellow bloggerinos,
(^Like it? I came up with it myself hehe)
As the title of this post suggests, sometimes I really am not the smartest of folks (nothing against blondes - there are a lot of really intelligent people I know who have blonde hair, and for the record at one stage my hair was partially blonde lol).
Anyway, I was in the shower today (keeping hygenic) and I remembered this and it was funny so I decided to share it :P
My "Blonde Story" goes like this...
Back in a month a couple of years ago, I was sitting quietly in the lounge room with my father when I happened to notice that there was a show on the television which had people running down a cliff. It appeared to be a team sport since the contestants had different coloured shirts. There was a red team and a blue team. As my father turned on the volume of this perculiar show, I saw a label on the screen which informed the viewers what was playing. "The Biggest Loser" was the name of the show.
As I watched, I noticed that the people in the show all varied in weight and seemed to be struggling to complete the mountain run.
The clockwork in my brain began to tick.
I thought about the name of the show in correspondence with the nature of the game.
The Biggest Loser...
And that's when I realised what a horrible show this was.
These poor people on the show were being made to compete so that viewers could watch and find out who the most loser-y of the contestants was! And somewhere poeple were probably laughing about them!!
I was disgusted. How could people be so cruel.
After about fifteen minutes of watching this, I decided I could stand it nolonger.
I had to voice my opinion.
With confidence I said to my father, "What an idiotic show! Making fun of these people! To see who the biggest loser of the group is! No one should be told they are a loser!"
It was at this moment that my father explained to me what the show ACTUALLY was...
He told me that it was a "weight-loss" show and that people went on the show and were trained for a while with special gym-trainers. What we were watching was one of the weekly challenges. The reason why it was called "The Biggest Loser" was because at the end of the show, there are prizes for the person who has lost the greatest amount of fat compared to their original weight (a percentage count).
Didn't I feel silly...
P.S. For anyone who reads this, I need suggestions for a nickname to call someone named "André", any ideas????????
(^Like it? I came up with it myself hehe)
As the title of this post suggests, sometimes I really am not the smartest of folks (nothing against blondes - there are a lot of really intelligent people I know who have blonde hair, and for the record at one stage my hair was partially blonde lol).
Anyway, I was in the shower today (keeping hygenic) and I remembered this and it was funny so I decided to share it :P
My "Blonde Story" goes like this...
Back in a month a couple of years ago, I was sitting quietly in the lounge room with my father when I happened to notice that there was a show on the television which had people running down a cliff. It appeared to be a team sport since the contestants had different coloured shirts. There was a red team and a blue team. As my father turned on the volume of this perculiar show, I saw a label on the screen which informed the viewers what was playing. "The Biggest Loser" was the name of the show.
As I watched, I noticed that the people in the show all varied in weight and seemed to be struggling to complete the mountain run.
The clockwork in my brain began to tick.
I thought about the name of the show in correspondence with the nature of the game.
The Biggest Loser...
And that's when I realised what a horrible show this was.
These poor people on the show were being made to compete so that viewers could watch and find out who the most loser-y of the contestants was! And somewhere poeple were probably laughing about them!!
I was disgusted. How could people be so cruel.
After about fifteen minutes of watching this, I decided I could stand it nolonger.
I had to voice my opinion.
With confidence I said to my father, "What an idiotic show! Making fun of these people! To see who the biggest loser of the group is! No one should be told they are a loser!"
It was at this moment that my father explained to me what the show ACTUALLY was...
He told me that it was a "weight-loss" show and that people went on the show and were trained for a while with special gym-trainers. What we were watching was one of the weekly challenges. The reason why it was called "The Biggest Loser" was because at the end of the show, there are prizes for the person who has lost the greatest amount of fat compared to their original weight (a percentage count).
Didn't I feel silly...
P.S. For anyone who reads this, I need suggestions for a nickname to call someone named "André", any ideas????????
Monday 13 August 2012
Oh why hello there, it is a pleasure to make your aquaintance
Dear Blog,
It is late at night here at the moment, or early in the morning - depends on whether you're a glass-half-full or a glass-half-empty kind of inanimate object - and I decided to write a post before hitting the hay and calling it a night ...
Upon writing the last 8 words I had a mental image of myself giving a bail of hay a good whack with a speech bubble above my head ---> "I hereby call you A Night"
Yes ... I know what you are thinking ... What an awesome name for a bail of hay.
Anyway... So as promised, here's a little bit about myself - The Socially Challenged Brunette.
It was a couple of months ago when I first got the idea for this blog - and where better a place than in a school toilet. You see, the thing is, that there was a line of people waiting to use the loo. As usual there was that awkward tension between everyone in the lavatory. I was next in line to relieve my bladder, when I looked up and caught the gaze of the person directly across from myself (as we'd both looked up at the same time and it's a small bathroom so it wasn't unusual to find yourself eye-to-eye with another being). We both smiled to acknowledge eachother and be polite and friendly.
That last word got me thinking. And a scenario formed inside my branius maximus where a person (such as myself) were to try to befriend someone in a similar situation. Let's face it; it's the kind of thing I would do.
So ... yadda yadda yadda ... started thinking about other awkward things I've done ... yadda yadda yadda ... and henceforth created this Blog! Ha ha ha ha ;D
If you have poor observation skills, I am a brunette. I have eyes that change colour. I sometimes am referred to as a "walking mood ring" (my eyes change colour depending on my mood). I am of an average-ish height. And most importantly ... I like pie.
I will now proceed to hit the hay and call it a night.
It is late at night here at the moment, or early in the morning - depends on whether you're a glass-half-full or a glass-half-empty kind of inanimate object - and I decided to write a post before hitting the hay and calling it a night ...
Upon writing the last 8 words I had a mental image of myself giving a bail of hay a good whack with a speech bubble above my head ---> "I hereby call you A Night"
Yes ... I know what you are thinking ... What an awesome name for a bail of hay.
Anyway... So as promised, here's a little bit about myself - The Socially Challenged Brunette.
It was a couple of months ago when I first got the idea for this blog - and where better a place than in a school toilet. You see, the thing is, that there was a line of people waiting to use the loo. As usual there was that awkward tension between everyone in the lavatory. I was next in line to relieve my bladder, when I looked up and caught the gaze of the person directly across from myself (as we'd both looked up at the same time and it's a small bathroom so it wasn't unusual to find yourself eye-to-eye with another being). We both smiled to acknowledge eachother and be polite and friendly.
That last word got me thinking. And a scenario formed inside my branius maximus where a person (such as myself) were to try to befriend someone in a similar situation. Let's face it; it's the kind of thing I would do.
So ... yadda yadda yadda ... started thinking about other awkward things I've done ... yadda yadda yadda ... and henceforth created this Blog! Ha ha ha ha ;D
If you have poor observation skills, I am a brunette. I have eyes that change colour. I sometimes am referred to as a "walking mood ring" (my eyes change colour depending on my mood). I am of an average-ish height. And most importantly ... I like pie.
I will now proceed to hit the hay and call it a night.
Thursday 12 July 2012
I had dinner with Jake Gyllenhaal!!
Ok, well my first post in this new blog/theme/whatever was originally going to be an introduction-type post where I basically introduce a bit about myself and explain the title of this blog.
However, I hadn't got around to doing that yet ... Obviously...
And I absolutely HAD to post this ASAP!!!
So, without further ado here's the goss:
I had dinner with none other than JAKE GYLLENHAAL!!!! \(*o*)/ ----- *starstruck*
Ok, so that's a bit of an exaggeration ... I had dinner and Gyllenhaal was in the same restaurant ...
Even that is an exaggeration...
Down to the facts:
Almighty Fact Number One: I had dinner at a restaurant, really lovely food
Almighty Fact Number Two: There was a large table of guys there - like twenty of them
Almighty Fact Number Three: One of the guys at that table looked like Jake Gyllenhaal
I'm not even kidding - he looked so much like Gyllenhaal!!!
Here's where it gets awkward ...
I have a tendency to stare at people. Yup. Not good, I know. But I did...
And he saw...
There was a clear view from my seat to his - all I had to do was look up and BAM! I could see him.
I got really excited at the thought that it was actually Jake Gyllenhaal - even though all logic told me it wasn't - that I started grinning. Grinning. A lot.
So I tried to keep my head down so he wouldn't see me grinning.
It was very embarrassing!!!
Jake Gyllenhaal, if you ever read this, I would just like to say that you are really awesome ... and warning you have a doppelganger in Australia who has a tattoo on his neck and eats at cute little Turkish restaurants.
However, I hadn't got around to doing that yet ... Obviously...
And I absolutely HAD to post this ASAP!!!
So, without further ado here's the goss:
I had dinner with none other than JAKE GYLLENHAAL!!!! \(*o*)/ ----- *starstruck*
Ok, so that's a bit of an exaggeration ... I had dinner and Gyllenhaal was in the same restaurant ...
Even that is an exaggeration...
Down to the facts:
Almighty Fact Number One: I had dinner at a restaurant, really lovely food
Almighty Fact Number Two: There was a large table of guys there - like twenty of them
Almighty Fact Number Three: One of the guys at that table looked like Jake Gyllenhaal
I'm not even kidding - he looked so much like Gyllenhaal!!!
Here's where it gets awkward ...
I have a tendency to stare at people. Yup. Not good, I know. But I did...
And he saw...
There was a clear view from my seat to his - all I had to do was look up and BAM! I could see him.
I got really excited at the thought that it was actually Jake Gyllenhaal - even though all logic told me it wasn't - that I started grinning. Grinning. A lot.
So I tried to keep my head down so he wouldn't see me grinning.
It was very embarrassing!!!
Jake Gyllenhaal, if you ever read this, I would just like to say that you are really awesome ... and warning you have a doppelganger in Australia who has a tattoo on his neck and eats at cute little Turkish restaurants.
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