Joel is cool man. i love him to bits. and chels is cool also

there are 3 origins of avoidance: fear, misinterpretation or hurt

so which one is why lauren is avoiding joel?

WELL JOEL HERE IS MY OPINION:

I think that Lauren likes you but not in that way. And she is avoiding you because she doesn't want to lead you on and she doesn't want you to put the moves on her.

xx

Rusty Ross is a fucking brilliant song writer, singer, guitarist, person, everything.

---
Broken Cars - Secret Dakota Ring

I'm not here, I'm living yesterday
And covering all my walls with pictures thrown away
Regret's an anchor in a guilty sea
It's pulling me down and I wanna be free

So don't look back, at all the broken cars on the track
They're only going nowhere fast, you're hanging on

A million dreams and I fantasize
"A little more, that's all I need and I'll be fine."
But "a little more" is always out of reach
It's pushing me back and I wanna be free

So don't look back, at all the broken cars on the track
They're only going nowhere fast, you're hanging on

There's a whole world over there
Full of shit but now I couldn't care
I don't wanna know
Cause there's everything right now

So don't look back, at all the broken cars on the track
They're only going nowhere fast, you're hanging on
Don't look back, at all the broken cars on the track
They're only going nowhere fast, you're hanging on

(title is from a song, btw).

I've been wondering lately just how long this innocent thing I've got going on will last.

I hope it lasts way longer because it's one of the few good things i have going for me, really.

I kind of hope people don't realise that I'm not that innocent (gosh that sounds like a bad song huh).

And I realise that for a long time I wanted people to realise that. But I don't know.

I just wonder how long it can go for.

I mean, the big empty eyes, the blonde hair, all of this can really only take a girl so far in the big wide world. Oh, and the fact that my face looks like that of a five year old's. But yeah...

Anyhoo this was pointless.

NICOLA IS GOING TO SEE THE KILLERS ON THURSDAY!!! WITH HANNAH!!!

ZOMG ZOMG ZOMG!!!

FIRST CONCERT EVER!!!

HOW EXCITINGZ!!!

OMIGOSH!!!

YAY!!!

YEARGH!

On the way home from Grandpa's today, plugged into The Killers (Hot Fuss, I listened to Sam's Town on the way there), gave me a lot of time and room to think really, so here is the resulting blog I suppose.

So I've been saying for a while that all I want is to be happy. And I think I might be asking a bit much there. I mean, most people probably aren't happy. And even if they are, it's a huge goal to aim for.

So yeah... new goal. I want to be like I used to be. Back in the day.

It really hit me a few months ago when my best friend from primary school (Rebecca - lovely lovely girl) emailed me asking me what one word I'd use to describe her. And I said something fitting for her, probably bubbly or jubbly or something like that. And she emailed back, "and you would be sunny".

For some reason that word hit me really, really hard.

"Sunny".

No one would use that word to describe me, the way I've been the past few years.

In primary school, sure. Now, no way. No freaking way.

See the thing is... I've tried to reinvent myself about a hundred times. Maybe I'm like a try hard Madonna. I don't know.

In grade 6 there was the bullying thing, sure. And if I had two brain cells to rub together I'd realise that the people who did that were obviously losers and I shouldn't have even pondered on it a second of my time. But noooo. I had to change myself entirely to go to high school. And all that resulted in was me being depressed and starting cutting. Whoopdeedo. Well-fucking-done Nicola, you're a fucking genius.

Year 8 was actually pretty good come to think of it, but towards the end when Alice was leaving, that was just a shit time for me, mostly because of Alice going and I felt crap. So I changed, again.

That time was worse though, I was trying to be something that I can never, never be. Oh so hard. I didn't even realise it at the time. And the result of that was, omigosh, more depressing, more cutting, and an eating disorder. Oh gosh.

I would never have dreamed this would happen three years ago. Not to me. I'm too smart for that. Of course. Too, too smart for anything bad to ever happen to me. Le sigh.

A few weeks ago Dale was telling me about how I'm energetic or something like that, I dunno. And that took me back too. Because the thing is, I used to be. So much!

Back in the day, if people said mean stuffz to me (ie. "omigosh Nicola you're fat"), I'd steal their hat/shoe, climb up the goal post on the oval and put it up there. Ha. How's that for pwnage? Now if someone said that to me I'd probs go and start planning how many calories I'm allowed to eat for the rest of that week. So yes.

My aim is to be the way I used to be.

I liked that way. It was a nice way. I used to be so energetic, so full of silliness. I used to come up with crazy ideas. Made up awesome games to play with my little primary school friends. Came out with funny little stuff. Very outgoing. All that. I want to be that way again. I don't want to worry about this rubbish any more. It's just not worth my effort or my time. I'm tired of being so, ugh, just so crap. It's tiring. And then I can't sleep anyway. And yeah. So yes...

I'm really, really worried about my blood test.

And I know I shouldn't be.

I won't have PCOS. There is like a 1 in a bazillion gillion chance that I would.

I have no symptoms of it, other than wacky periods, which lots of people have anyway.

I won't have it.

I won't have it, I'll get the pill, I'll be fine.

But, I am worried about my stupid blood test.

I asked my mum if it will hurt, she's like "don't worry there's nothing to worry about". And then I asked her something else, I can't even remember, and she's like "stop being silly and worrying about it you'll be fine there's nothing to worry about it's just a precaution it's just Lorraine (the doctor) being Lorraine and wanting to be totally sure blabla stop worrying."

And she's right, I have nothing to worry about.

But I can't help it.

I feel like I want to cry, but I probably won't, not until tonight anyway, when I'm in bed, and then it will be like old times again.

WTF do I have to be worried about. Nothing.

But I can't tell anyone that I'm worried. Because they'll be like you idiot Nicola stop worrying.

Even if I did have PCOS, it's not that bad, tons of people have it, it's totally manageable, it's fine fine fine.

Maybe some part of me is worried that the doctor will come back and say "yo Nicola you have ovarian cancer and you have three months to live".

But that's not possible because they're not even fucking testing for that.

So I should stop worrying, but I can't. Yeargh.

I told Chelsea I'm getting a blood test on Saturday. And she's like "why". And I'm like "So I can go on the pill". And she's like "why are you having sex? Zomgs who with?", and then I was like "No..." and then she started talking about something else totally to Narelle.

Sometimes I question our best-friend status with eachother.

We are both much closer to other people than eachother.

And Chelsea... Chelsea probably has more issuez than even me. She wants to stop acro "because she's not good enough". Which is really responsible when you have two other fucking people in your trio who are screwed if you quit.

I do love Chelsea though. And she is my best friend.

Then again, maybe I don't know what a best friend is.

I had one before. She joined an I Hate Nicola club when I was in grade 6. So that was in doubt.

And then I had the best friend I could ever wish for (ALICE) but she left the school and she's too busy with all her studying ("I can have a life after VCE") so yeah.

Well whatever.

... to see about my wacky periods. She said they're pretty normal. But I have to get a blood test on Saturday. I'm not allowed to eat from 10pm the night before until after my blood test, which will be in the morning anyway, so it's okay.

They're going to test for lots of stuff. Hormones and that. Iron deficiency. They're going to see if I have PCOS which is unlikely because if I did, I'd probably be heavier, and I don't have much family history for it.

Then if I don't have PCOS, which I most likely won't, then I can go on the pill if I want.

The end.

Joel wants words from the heart so here we go...

I like Joel a lot, he's one of my good friends, I talk about stuff with him, 'cept a lot of the time I prefer not to because he'll come back with one of his wacky, stereotypical and hypocrytical statements. In fact if there's one thing that really annoys me about Joel it's the fact that he's a total hypocrite. But other than that things are good.

Joel knows stuff about me that I don't tell other people, not because I wanted him to, but because he just finds out these things. Then he never lets them go. Except for the cutting thing which he did. Other things he didn't. He probably never will. That's okay though. (I'm sure he knows what I'm referring to here)

Joel's pretty freaking funny, says funny stuff, does plenty of funny stuff, so kudos for that. He's also rediculously smart. Like, you'd be amazed by how smart Joel is. He doesn't show it much. But anyway.

The end.

Sextacular to say the least.

I shouldn't hate myself. I should love myself. Because the more I think about it, the more I realise, I have so, so much going for me.

I'm not fat, as much as I may try to convince myself that I am. I'm not overweight. I'm not underweight. I have blonde hair. I have blue eyes. I have long eye lashes. I have big lips. I don't have acne. I tan. I can stay in the sun all day when it's 42 degrees and not get burnt (yes I realise that was a dumb thing to do but anyhoo). I have no serious health problems. I don't need glasses or braces.

I'm smart. I'm very smart. People have said I'm funny so I guess I've got that going for me too. I can do the splits. I can play the piano.

I have a good family. I have a job. I have two dogs. I have lots of really, really good friends.

I have what everyone wants. I'm lucky. I'm so, so, so, lucky, lucky, lucky.

But, of course, that's not enough for me. Because perfection is the only thing that will ever make me happy. Ra ra ra. Perfect perfect perfect.

The sooner I outgrow this phase the better. Because I'm tired of picking at all the little things. The little, little, little things.

The fact that I am 2 kilos... TWO!... heavier than I'd like to be. I mean, to an overweight person, that's like nothing, right? It's nothing. But I can't stop thinking about it. It's always this number hanging over my head. Two, two, two.

I can't even be happy about the good things. I'm always like, "gee are my lips too big?"... I mean people inject whatever shit they can find into their lips to make them look like mine, but I want them smaller, wtf.

Nothing is enough. I'm not good enough at the piano. Not good enough at gymnastics. Not good enough at school. I'm better than most people will ever be in their lives, but that's not enough. Not enough. Not enough.

I can't tell if I'm too smart, or not smart enough. They're both just as bad as eachother.

Even though I am the best at some things (ie science, maths, etc), that's not enough. Because I have to STAY the best. I can't let one mistake happen. It has to be perfect. Even if I get better than anyone else in my class at a maths test, but it's not 100%, I'll feel like part of me died. It's a horrible feeling. And it's always the same.

This whole perfection thing, it gets to me really badly. I really don't want to go through this anymore but it's like something I can't avoid. And it's scary.

But I'm getting better. I swear I am. I honestly, truly, am.

The real test will come when school starts again. Yeho8iq098q9oqew.

But I'll be better.

Because know I know what I have going for me. I have a list. Not a very neat one, but a list. And I'll just have to come back to it every time I feel shit. And it'll be okay.