So guess who, when he was very young, got a nut stuck in his nose? Yup, that would be Ross.
And in the interest of balance, I'm trying to think of hilarious things I did when I was little, but I'm kind of stuck. Mum? Sigga? Amma? Feel free to join in.
I definitely cut my hair at some point, although apparently I cut a pretty straight line across one side, so mum cut the other side to match and gave me a mini-mullet.
Ooh, I just remembered something that seemed fine at the time, but in hindsight is hideous. I had a pet guinea pig called Casey*, and one night I decided that she'd probably like to sleep in my cubby house - a wooden shipping container on stilts. (p.s. Thanks Dad, best cubby ever!) She died overnight, I don't know whether from the cold or what, but the next morning she was all stiff and solid. So... I played with her for a few hours before we buried her - she became a noble Barbie steed, until Mum found out and made me stop.
Gee whiz, that story is terrible. I hope we can still be friends - I haven't messed with corpses since, I swear. Except for that one semester at uni. And when I worked at the abbatoir... And come to think of it, every time I prepare meat for eating.
Ah well. I'm terrible. Let's move on.
*I only named her Casey because I asked a friend of mine what to call her, and the friend said 'Anything but Casey, I have a cousin with that name and she's totally mean.' Apparently I was also totally mean - sorry Carla!
Hey so I was talking to a friend on facebook, and we were talking about having opinions and standing by them. In Australia, I think there's kind of an extension of the tall poppy thing whereby having opinions that you express to others as if they're important is seen as a bad thing. And having a blog purely to express such opinions? I feel like it's kind of frowned upon.
I definitely have trouble with conviction. Luckily I don't need to justify having a blog, because let's face it, it mostly started out as a way to stay in touch with my family while I'm over here. (I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing, but I pretty much write every post like it's an extended email to my parents. Hi Mum!)
Blogging aside, when I meet new people, I tend to be very non-committal about stuff I like (and don't like). It's like I still have that stupid high school fear of being 'caught out' liking the wrong things. This, I have realised, is the dumbest thing ever - how can I be wrong about what I like? Surely I am the boss of that?
Same with art - sometimes I feel like if I don't like something, it's more because I 'don't get it' - it's actually really valid and interesting, but goes way over my head. Such a silly way to think.
But back to my blog: doing this NaBloPoMo thing means I'm having to stretch more to find things to write about - there's only so many diary posts that can be done before it gets intolerable. And it seems like when I do write about my opinions on stuff, people totally engage more, comment, discuss, whatever. So maybe it's not such a bad thing to talk about what you really think.
Just a thought.