I have started using my Wordpress properly now, since Livejournal has started throwing a tantrum whenever I load it in Firefox.
Not to mention all the DDos issues they've been having.

So, if you want to read my random posts and pieces of my story, follow the link.
I'll still be checking in on you, my sweets and lovelies. <3

http://nelkitty.wordpress.com/

I have a wordpress now. I had to make one for uni, and have my own private one attached. It's interesting and I like the spellcheck it has.

I'll post more later. Now: Uni.

People don't realise that I watch how they speak about others and judge my friendship with them through that. If you're happy to decieve, humiliate, and abuse another person, you'll be just as happy to do that to me... And you wonder why I don't trust you.

I may not always be kind or gentle or unbiased, but you can trust me in that I will always say the same to you as I would to others, I will always be the person you see, and I am always honest.



I've found myself in a crisis with a few of my friends. I love them dearly but they treat each other atrociously... All the while coming to me and telling me that I am the one they trust, that they would not see me or treat me like they do the others.
I'm starting to see a trend where they also tell the others that, which leads me to believe I've been the subject of petty back-biting as well.

These are close friends. It stresses me to believe that I cannot trust them.
I thought people were supposed to fall out of these childish games when they get older. It just seems to be getting more vicious and subtle.

I am resisiting the intense urge to delete EVERYTHING in this journal that came before, ooh, the beginning of last year. Someone spam-commented on one of my really early posts, and when I read it in the email, I cringed. I had no idea my posts back then were so incoherent and..... boring, really. My apologies to whoever had to deal with those terrible posts. O_o

Mind you, it's great to go back and read them when I begin to think I'm a terrible writer/blogger. It's nice to see how far I came, even if where I came from is terribly embarrassing to the point of being considered public humiliation. =/

So I've spent as week and two days at my mother's house in Nungarin, Western Australia. That's in the wheatbelt, for those of you who don't know, the strip of wheat and barley farms in southwestern Australia. It's the blurred line between hostile desert and cool swampland.



While my dad's family are by blood a collection of promiscuous europeans, I never knew anything about my mother's side. It turns out, my mother's side were all early pioneers to Australia, starting first on the east coast and gradually travelling over to the west. My whole family ( from my great grandfather up until my mother) lived in the wheatbelt, nursing and farming. My great grandmother and grandmother were rural nurses and midwives.



My mother, as she told me about this, dropped tidbits of opinion on the conversation about how it makes sense that she lives in the country. The red dust is in the blood. The women in our family are bred to be jillaroos- horse-raising cattle-herding farm women- so many of us are drawn to or come from this beautiful and dangerous stretch of desert.

On the first days of my arrival here, I would have been inclined to disagree. I believe whole heartedly in familial blood ties, skills and history passed down through generation not just by story but also by genetics. I just thought that I had more of my father in me than my mother.



The longer I stayed here, the more I started to think otherwise. In fact, the feeling that this great beautiful land is in my blood had been crossing my mind for at least two days before this conversation. In the city I couldn't feel it, hear it, see the similarities between the hardworking Aussie farmers and the hard, dry land. The past few days have shown me how similar they really are. I love it because I can feel it.

I'm still very much a soft city girl, but here I've grown to feel the subtle changes in the air and ground, and the magnificent beat the seems to reverberate through everything here. The music and dances of the aboriginal people make more sense than ever before, the connection between human and land is more obvious.



So far I've come across echidnas, snakes, scorpions, a plethora of spiders, had an infestation of locusts in my bedroom and sat through two destructive storms. I've been chased by a great red wall of dust while listening to my sisters panic about whether we would get home in time to be safe from the rain and lightning that followed inevitably after. I've put my hands in the rain that has fallen on a salt lake and felt how perfectly warm the water is that I can barely feel it against my skin. I tasted the salt and let the soft red earth run through my hands. I felt the water-carved ochre-coloured rock and saw how the sky was mirrored in the flat water.



Whatever doubt there was before, about whether this land had a spirit, about whether I was at all connected to this place, then it is gone. I think I needed this short holiday. I know I belong here, and I know that the red dust is in my blood, like the storms, the rain, the bushfires and the bugs, and I know that the land knows me.









(All photos are copyright to me and no you cannot use them.)

This world is so chaotic.
I like watching from a distance, but I would be terrified, if it were me in the fray.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not ditzy or unintelligent. I am hyperactive, occasionally talkative, and cursed with a short attention span, but I am not stupid.
I am very good at understanding and comprehending complex ideas and information, I'm just very, very bad at regurgitating or explaining what I know, and putting my own beliefs and opinions into words. Coherent sentences are not my forte.

I have noticed that because I am not eloquent- without effort, anyway- or perfectly clear and well-worded, people assume that I am unable to understand basic concepts. It irks me when I get the "This is too complex for you" treatment, because half the time, the person assuming such has less of an understanding than I do. Small minded, loud, arrogant little people smother this world, and to be unable to outwit them because of a lack of correct language (or use thereof) is extremely frustrating. I do not like to lose to idiots.
I suppose I could just ignore them, but I am proud of my mind, however much it seems to disobey my attempts to shape it into a sensible thought-shape.

So I read, and practice wordsmithing, to attempt to refine my ability to communicate effectively my thoughts and opinions, so that I may voice them without issue and without misunderstanding.
Words have power. The right words even more so.

I am learning to bellydance. This is win.
It's tiring and a good workout, but doesn't feel like a work out. It's a bit hard at the moment because my hips and shoulders don't swivel very well. XD But I imagine with a new bra and some practice, I'll be able to dance the basic moves.

Dear Mister Snodgrass
(Or, How I Learned to Fight Tigers.)

I've noticed that my sleeping problems are coming back. This isn't fun. It's not as bad as it could be- 4 hours out of 48, instead of 3 days straight- but it still turns me into a grumpy, vicious monster during the hours that I am awake. That's many hours, if you have to spend more than one around me.

I can't wait for uni to come back.

I've been trying to keep myself busy- games, reviews, writing, drawing, studying things that interest me, but without the structure of uni it's not helping much. I mean, I'm not a vegetable (yet) but still far from peak performance.


I drew a comic for Jai's ezine. The ezine took off fairly well, and with a bit of a bang. One of the articles started a pretty sizable debate in the site community. I thought it was going to turn into a site war but thankfully the people involved turned out to be a little more grown up than first expected. XD I guess it's the company I am made to keep, that I expect everyone to be screaming teenagers.

Looking Through is progressing slowly. It's a pain to decipher Bad Writing + NaNo Wordcount Sprints + Changes Between Past and Present Tense while trying to keep the wobbly storyline straight. I'm having great fun re-torturing my characters though. SUFFER!!

Hope I never write you into one of my stories.

Anywho, that's all for now.