There's more to this than passing by, there's more to this than meets the eye.

It's December again! Merry Christmas to all you guys who celebrate that wonderful commercial holiday. 

In case anybody accuses me of forgetting to mention anything on my blog, it was actually my birthday a week ago. I had an absolutely lovely day, going out with some people for a very long meal that we later named brunchternoon tea. It was rather odd, people kept reminding me that this was the first birthday that I hadn't been with my parents, and asking me if I was homesick. Uh, no? I admit, I missed home, a little bit on my birthday. Or rather, I missed my friends. Mostly because I am not used to formal birthday things. Birthdays for me, are days I spend with friends watching movies and eating food. I missed having you guys around okay seriously I am starting to grow wrinkles and ambition after being around adults all the time.

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So I went to work with my uncle and my little cousin today. Or yesterday, seeing as it's almost 1am here. My cousin is an adorable eleven year old, and is at that stage where she wants to act like she's twenty one. She's also the eldest child, so when I'm around I'm like the big sister she never had. This is both a good and bad thing. She's so cute and nice and things, but she also likes to be all up in my business. Especially concerning guys. I was walking around the city with her today, and usually when we go around the city, we're with my uncle or one of the people from his office. Today we were by ourselves, and well... People kept talking to me. Notable examples were the guy who was apparently named Jake, who advised me to get a tattoo of a snake around my hips, and asked me when I was coming back to visit him; and the guy who wanted me to come home and meet his family. I also learnt that while having my friends (Boyo and Demi ;) ) discuss my "amazing rack" makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it is a completely different story if two total strangers are doing it.

Throughout the day, my cousin treated me to several insightful comments:

"Yay, we're allowed to go out without our babysitter! But what did he mean when he asked if you wanted some benefits?"

"Did you see how he looked at you? He likes you!"

"Oooh, you're right, that guy is pretty... But I don't think he'll like you, cause you're not white. But I'm totally telling a certain somebody that you find blondes attractive."

WELL.

That last comment totally floored me. As most of you would know, I'm a fairly racist individual, to everyone in general. However, I can't even hold a candle to people over here. Race is a big thing here, and as a kid, I never quite picked up on the extent of it. And it's not like people are doing it to be malicious, it's just seen as a fact, that the colour of your skin can tell your story before you even open your mouth. I'm fairly grateful for my complicated racial background, because it means people can't just look at me and place me. It may mean that people stare at me when I walk down the street, but I'd rather that than have them judge me.

The second part of that comment was just like NO WHAT STAHP CHILD. I can't quite tell her off though, because she doesn't realise just how painful she's being. Imagine finding a book, reading the first page and discovering that this might be the most amazing book that you have ever had the good fortune to pick up, and then having the book taken away and placed on a shelf, far above your reach. You manage to make a tower of chairs and things, and you climb precariously up to the top. In order to reach the book, you have to lean towards the shelf. Doing so will cause the tower to fall, therefore giving you only a split-second in which to grab the book from the shelf.

Right now is my split-second, and it's ending fast.

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I'm a complete waste of your time

I'm asleep before the first sheep

Until the last bleep of all time.

- Kaiser Chiefs 

Coloured Pants + Cricket Jumpers = Automatic Attractiveness

Life events!

They're usually pretty cool things. I haven't blogged in awhile, but recently I've experienced quite a few of them. Firstly, I graduated. I actually never thought I'd get here, but I've finally made it through the emotional and psychological minefield that is high school. Although I'd never want to do it again, Year 12 was actually pretty amazing. The majority of the memories I'll take from high school will be from Year 12. From all the trips to Rockdale and Hurstville, often having to sprint back to school to make it on time for our next class; from all the times we spent laughing hysterically because of whatever drugs they put in Maccas coke; and even those days where we'd be walking around like zombies due to exam/assessment-related all-nighters.

However, one of the greatest memories of Year 12 would have to be the very last one. There's something oddly special about one hundred and eighty girls (and their dates), dressed to the nines for their final school event, all gathered on the dance floor in lethal-looking heels of various sizes, attempting to do Gangnam Style. It was a truly magical night, and everyone looked fabulous. Oh, and the other special event of the night? I danced, quite a bit, willingly.

The Mane Six! (PS: This photo is framed and on the cabinet in my grandmother's house. Just so you know)

So you can imagine that I was pretty tired the next day. HAHAHA, NO. There was no time to be tired, what with my 25-hour international flight to catch! Destination: Cape Town, South Africa. I've flown between Sydney and Cape Town quite a few times before, but never alone, and it has never taken 25 hours before. One of the first things I learnt on my travels was that I am not very good at sitting still for a lengthy period of time. The second thing I learnt was that however extensive the entertainment system of a particular airline is, I will inevitably get bored of it. Thirdly, for future reference: never choose fish, noodles, or egg for an in-flight meal. Ever. And when the air hostess asks you what you would like to drink? Straight vodka. Every. Single. Time. Okay, so I might not have done the last one. Maybe I should have, I might have gotten a little more sleep...

Aside from the flight, Cape Town has been amazing. I keep saying that it's so beautiful here, but I don't really know why. Maybe it's the fact that it's so far away from home, far enough away so that only positive news can reach me. I haven't really done much, but I did spend a week in Parliament, job shadowing the people who produce the media that comes from/is about Parliament. Being at Parliament taught me a lot, not really about working with multimedia, although that was very interesting, but mostly about people. People are never what they seem. The guy that everyone thinks is so straight-laced is actually very much a child at heart; and the guy who is always laughing and making others smile, actually has an incredibly dark past. Everyone has a story, everyone has something that they've had to struggle with. How we overcome these struggles, rather than the struggles themselves, is what defines us.

When I first started planning this trip, I promised myself that it wouldn't be like all those "coming of age" stories (which are called bildungsromans, if anyone cares). You know the ones... Girl finishes high school/university, girl goes on trip to foreign country, stuff happens and she's changed forever. Maybe it's the experiences I've had here, or maybe I'm finally growing the fuck up, but I'm seeing the world in a different light. For the first time, the glass is half-full, instead of half-empty. I'm almost literally having a fairytale time here, and there will definitely be tears when my fairytale ends.

"Love is not a victory march, 

It's cold and it is broken 

Hallelujah"