I seriously wonder about New Zealands future when the front page of the biggest news paper runs these stories - Branson saying he'll cut airfares in half. The fact that Eric Watson is fucking some model from America. STILL stuff about Paul Holmes' 'cheeky darkie' comment. And ... last, but certainly the most worrying ... 'Coral accused in murder movie' It startes off like this ... "The man charged with murdering Coral Burrows will appear in an upcoming Kiwi movie about a young girl who is abducted and murdered. Corals step-father Steven Williams appears in For Good as an extra in a bar scene ..." I haven't been bothered to read the rest, but it continues on for a good while. I mean ... the biggest news in new zealand is that a guy who murdered his step daughter is an extra in a movie about a young girl being abducted and murdered. That is so incredibly pathetic and sad!

It is my birthday today. I've lived for 18 years now. I'm starting on the long road towards old age. Even though I told my parents I didn't want anything because they've been forking out so much for braces and laptop, etc, they still got me some stuff - a book on Titian (costumes in the mid 1500's is what I am slowely veering towards, though more german than italian, but this book is highly excellent for stuff like that) $50 and some Weleda Almond skin care stuff, which is absolutely divine. Also, a small gripe with this place. I love it and all - but ... geekdom didn't use to be so much about computers. I pride myself on being a 'geek' but I know only the basics with which to survive about computers. But I was a bookworm when I was younger and now I'm obsessed with costumes, and spen most of my spare time (and even the time that isn't spare) researching. Get me into a fabric shop and I'll go nuts. But now .. it's like you can't be a geek unless you know heaps about computers. Bring back the old fashioned geeks I say! /end rant mum also rang up Seth for my birthday, and I got t otalk to him for ages. Its no longer so akward between us. I'm no longer the little baby sister. I'm the little sister who's starting to grown up. We talked about music and life. What Im doing after school. how hard i'm going to have to work. He did the whole big brother lecture thing, which I actually kinda like, because I can believe the stuff he tells me, more readily than I can believe what the parents say. & I'm going to London soon and I'll be able to see him again! He's promised to take me around london, even made a tentative promise to take me clubbing!

Looking back I wonder how come I dreaded the actual operation, but never even thought about the aftermath. As soon as the IV drugs went into action it was FUN. It seemed like 10 minutes had passed, and I was 4 teeth less. I had gauze pads put in to stop the bleeding, and I was sent home. I dared to hope that perhaps I was one of those people who suffered little side effects. Then I got home and took out the gauze pads ... and it all went downhill. I was vomiting, the painkillers weren't working to well, and each time after I vomited (mainly blood) the pain would intensify. I have never been in such an extreme of pain as I was last night. I was so cantankerous, mum had to put up with all my demands. I didn't want THAT flavour of baby food, I wanted THAT one :) But she was lovely. I got my big hello kitty to cuddle all night long, and she read me whinnie the pooh until about 10, when I finally drifted off to sleep. (pooh bear gives me great comfort aight?!) I've naturally got a petite mouth, but with all the swelling, my cheekbones have disapeared and my mouth has been pushed into an even petiter pout. I look like one of those porcelain dolls. Kinda cute actually!

Four minutes until I can no longer eat. You see, today is the day I get my wisdom teeth out, and I'm remarkably calm, in a panicky sort of way. The really annoying thing is this - I've phsyched myself up so much that I couldn't actually eat much. I'd put it in my mouth, chew, and it'd feel all wrong and disgusting, and swallowing was so hard. But I ate four iwi fruit, two bananas and a slice of toast with vegemite. Well, as of now, I can no longer eat or drink, until after the operation, which is scheduled for 2 o'clock. And from all the horror stories I've heard I've gathered you don't really feel like eating much afterwards for a while. I'm getting it done under intravenous sedation. Which means lots of drugs to make me woozy, happy, sleepy and amnesiac, then I get local anaesthetic on my upper and lower jaw and then the surgeon proceeds to dig all four wisdom teeth from the depths of my gums. I hate pain of that sort, I hate needles and I don't really like the idea of being pretty out of it for 24 hours. It says on my sheet that I shouldn't be left alone for 24 hours. Fun. I have indeed found a use for this journal - ranting and similar. I don't know why, but lj is just banal, everyday things. The boring stuff. The costume stuff. This I get to have more freedom - cos no one I know is reading it (no one is reading it as far as I know! weee!) so I feel more confidant in ranting and not giving a sh*t about censorship (yes, I am being sarcastic there).

Firstly. Where did the normal thingy go? Secondly. This is all about the extraction of wisdom teeth. Well, thats stretching the truth a bit, because 'all about' would entail the aftermath as well, and this is only the precursor to the pain and agony which I am dwelling in dread of. You see, in less than 24 hours I will be in a sterile little room, under the influence of a cocktail of drugs, a surgeon telling me that it won't hurt a bit, and then 45 minutes I will be four wisdom teeth less. I have heard so many horror stories. Stories about faces resembling that of a chipmunk. Excessive bleeding. Horrible siblings. But then again I don't have siblings, so that rules that out. But the horror stories remain in my mind. Lurking in the depths - creeping out at the most inopurtune moments, when I think that they've gone, and my mind is finally at rest, resigned to the approaching torture - they creep out again and I panic. What if .. what happens if ... am I going to die ..?! well, alright, not quite THAT bad ... but still! In better news, I got a pseudo bondage belt for $1! WOO!

I went to the Paper Bag Princess today, that wonderful purveyor of nothing over $20 (but nothing under $20 either). I have not been shopping for a long time, but I decided that a new pair of pants and a top were much needed, so the intrepid me ventured out into the depths of K'rd, that heady world of alternative fashion for the Discerning Poseur. I ventured far and wide - first just perusing the goods for sale, then going to Brazil for much needed coffee (I've never got the coffee buzz thing, but after two soy mocha latte's I think I achieved that state of higher enlightenment. Or extra energy) Then I went back to the only place that had anything that caught my attention - the Paper Bag Princess, where I dedicated myself to some serious shopping. After all, its nearly my birthday - I felt entitled to spoil myself. & I discovered something. I don't think I have been seriously shopping since I was about 13/14. Back then I was a beanpole. Straight up. Straight down. Therefore shopping was relatively straight forward - find something in the right side and VOILA. Now, I think I understand the widespread phenomenon of anorexia nervosa. THEY'RE THE ONLY BLOODY PEOPLE BEING CATERED FOR IN THE FICKLE WORLD OF FASHION! I make no claims to voluptousness, but I DO have these things called CURVES. If the pants buttoned at the top, they were too short. If they were the right length they didn't button up. &, the few that were the right length AND buttoned up were uncomfotably tight around these things I have known as *gasp* an ARSE and HIPS. Now I'm pretty sure curves and long leggedness are not an anomoly specific to myself. So why aren't there more clothes that don't require you to look like a stick? Modern fashion. It's freer, right? It gives us more freedom. doesn't it? It's released us from the dark ages of dresses. BLOODY MEDIEVAL DRESSES CATERED FOR ALL SIZES OF WOMEN YOU MORONS! VOLOPTOUSNESS USED TO BE CELEBRATED! now it's ridiculed, because ... hey ... seen a curvy woman walking around in jeans and a top? All bulgy out the sides? her fault, or fashions? Fashion is a bloody monstrosity. Makes us with real bodies look ridiculous. On friday I saw a scary, scary thing. tight white pants. High bloody white heels. Top that came mid ribs and plunged way below decency down the front. White as well. Ok, she had the stomach for it, but she looked ridiculous as all hell. When are some idiots going to learn to treat themselves with a little dignity & start dressing appropriatly? I myself am under no illusions that I'm stylish. If stylishness is what the magazines tell us to wear, I want no part in it. You see girls walking down the street in stuff that you've seen in cosmo and they look fucking stupid. Or maybe I just wanna be the fashion worlds anti-christ when I grow up.

I get a journal. cool. Not that I'm going to use it with any constancy ... my livejournal gets that dubious pleasure (avalon_dreams). Well, I'm going to do a bit of exploring now ...