Suddenly a security guard came up behind him and pushed gently passed him to try and walk through the carriage. He was a big man, a big black man, and he was just trying to get on with his work. He hardly knocked the grumpy guy.

But the man started brandishing his beer can and yelled out after the security guard as he walked away. “EXCUSE ME! Ya don’t just shove through like that. A little COMMON COURTESY goes a long way!”

I could understand that. He was drunk, and the guard had had to squeeze past a bit, so as loud and annoying as he was I could understand his yelling. I could understand when he turned to my dad and said, “Sorry mate. I know ya’ve got ya daughter with ya. Just a little politeness doesn’t hurt is all.” I could understand him.

I couldn’t understand him, however, when he went on with “I’m not racist, mate. I have colour television and everything. Just common courtesy, ya know?”

My dad chuckled nervously and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, mate.”

The problem with this guy is that it hadn’t even crossed my mind that he might be being racist. The fact that the security guard had been black had barely registered with me until the guy pointed it out. The guy was obviously, undoubtedly being racist and it made me so much more uncomfortable than I already was.

I think that as much as we, in our “developed” world, try to stamp out racism and shout out to everybody that will listen that ours is an egalitarian society, there will always, always be those people who judge others by the colour of their skin. And I think there are more of us that are racist than we would care to admit. We may not be outwardly discriminatory, but when we’re drunk or we think nobody’s watching the kind of yucky behaviour exhibited by the guy on the train can just leap out.

I wasn’t in London for long enough to get a feel for the general racism of the place, but I’ve been living in Sydney long enough to know that we are quite racist.

I go to a selective high school, which means you have to pass an exam to get in. Competition for selective school places in Sydney is incredibly, incredibly high and children are typically rewarded with expensive gadgets if they pass. On the flipside, I’ve heard of children being punished by their parents with more tutoring for not passing the test, and even one or two who have been grounded because they didn’t make it in to the state’s top selective school.

The media is obsessed with migrants in selective schools - this article from the Sydney Morning Herald: http://www.smh.com.au/national/education/ethnicity-at-selective-schools-provokes-fierce-debate-20100913-159da.html

Australia has quite a high number of migrants coming in from China and across Asia. I don’t know what it is and I don’t think anyone could possibly say why, but the number of children from Asian migrant families going to selective schools is incredibly high. Like, over 50%. I’m writing this in class, and I look around and see 10 non-Asian students out of 30. And that’s pretty high. In my normal class there’s only about four or five out of 30.

My parents have all told me stories about white parents who have asked them – “How do you feel about all three of your children going to Asian schools?”

Seriously, this is when my blood starts to boil.

I think it’s very interesting that there are so many Asians at my school. I think it’s fascinating that they all seem to be pushed very hard to achieve academically by their parents. My friends and I (nearly all Asian) even joke about the ratio of Asians to non-Asians at my school. I think that’s – mostly – perfectly OK. I do not think that the number of “Asians” in one particular place should be something for the media or white Australians to worry about, because it is simply not a problem.

Just because there are a lot of Asians here doesn’t mean it’s an “Asian school”. It also doesn’t mean that it’s an Anglo school, or an African school, or whatever. Students should not be seen by the colour of their skin. People should not be seen by the colour of their skin. A school should not be defined by the colour of its students’ skins, but by the calibre and the capacity of those students. My school is not an “Asian school”. My school is an intelligent school, my school is an accepting school, my school is a powerful school, my school is a great school.

Any parent who worries about the Asians taking up all the selective school places and not leaving room for their poor little diddums child can get stuffed. It’s not the Asian children who take up the places, it’s the smart, academically inclined, pushed-to-achieve-by-their-parents children. So what if they’re Asian? That is irrelevant. If you want to worry about why your child isn’t getting in, blame the actions of the parents of the children who do unnecessarily push and push and push them towards good grades. Please do not blame them because of the colour of their skin. White parents can push and push too, you know.

This is just the racism that exists in my world. It’s a tiny little part of the amount that exists in the entire world. Racism is the hole in society that sucks us in until we can’t see the light of equality and love for the life of us. Racism hurts. I hate it. Enough is enough.

xx
Za.

This happens after each and every maths test, and as such I think I feel worse and worse about myself whenever we have a new one to do. I’m constantly pessimistic about my performance and I’m pretty confident I’ll never get above 70%. I know this isn’t good for me and because I’m telling myself I’ll fail I do fail, so I try hard to stay positive about maths but it’s a constant struggle.

This half-yearly maths mark was a particularly hard thing for me to hear, because I feel like I did a really good job in the test. I was relaxed going in, I tried all the questions, I showed my working (which has been my failing in the past), and afterwards I bragged to everybody about how I’d done the very best that I could have done. And I had. I did my very best, and I was so set on that mark being at least above 61%, which is the highest maths mark I’ve gotten in a couple of years. I don’t think 62% was too much to ask of myself. But I couldn’t do it.

Our wonderful principal has a pep talk that he knows almost off by heart about how nobody can ask you to do more than your best, and how it’s so important to remember that during exam time. But when 60% is my very best, what do I do when my parents and my peers think I should be doing better? When my teacher tells me that I CAN do better than this? When my low mark is so frowned upon by everyone around me that I curl up in bed the night I get it back and cry my eyes out? What do I do then?

I don’t think I’m bad at maths, per se, maybe that the way they teach it in school (theory, questions, repeat) doesn’t work in my brain. Maybe it’s because they don’t have enough real-life applications in school and it’s all just continuous numbers and rules on a paper that mean nothing to me. I don’t know. I do know that I’m more interested in a single 5-minute Vihart video than a whole week of maths classes.

I think my point is that when people think they’re bad at something, it may not necessarily be their fault, but the fault of the bigger picture. Is it entirely my fault that I feel negative about numbers, or is it a result of the many layers of who I am? It’s a result of how I’ve been brought up, what my parents are good at, the maths curriculum, the people I associate with, the marks I get. It’s my fault to a certain extent, but not completely. And yet it remains my problem, and one I have no idea how to go about fixing.

I guess the first step in fixing it is accepting that you can’t be good at everything, and that there is a loser of every race. I can’t see numbers being relevant in my future (which seems to be heading in a very word-based direction), and maybe accepting that and placing less emphasis and care on maths is important. I should be focusing on the things I know I am good at. Or maybe I should be caring more and working harder? Somehow I don’t think so.

If anybody’s in the same situation as me, I’d love to hear about it in the comments. I seem to have lost the ability to listen to my own advice, but surely you can: stop wasting your time on being stressed and sad. There are more important things in life than the square root of failure.

xx
Za.

OK, so maybe this isn’t always true, but on my bus in the morning, there are definitely a few people who I always notice, and they mostly fit with the theory.

First of all, there’s super-cute private school boy. Student.

Super-cute private school boy (let’s shorten that to SPSB, shall we?) has floppy, STRAIGHT brown hair that normally covers his eyes and makes you want to attack him with a pair of scissors. He goes to the local catholic school and is normally listening to music on the bus. Sometimes a pretty, bleached-blonde girl from the private school just down the road from his school sits next to him and they chat. I know he takes photography because I heard them talking about his excursion once. I’m pretty sure he’s in year 11, but I have no idea what his name is and I know that no matter how often I glance at him I never catch him glancing at me. He wears white socks pulled up to his knees and folded over at the top. He’s very skinny, and by far the most notable person on the bus.

Are you alarmed yet? I’m an avid people-watcher. I can’t help it! I just notice things.

I notice things just like I’ve noticed texta-wielding Down’s syndrome guy from across the road. He falls into the disabled category.

I’ve been seeing TWDSG for a few years now. One morning he was mock-shooting me with a gun he made out of textas, hence the “texta-wielding ” section of his title. He’s somewhere in his twenties, I think, and it seems to me that he likes everything that screams BOY. He loves football jerseys and red polo shirts. He has big, thick glasses and he listens to his music with big, fat over-ear cans instead of in-ear headphones. He seems pretty sweet (although troublesome) and he likes chatting to himself and licking his lips a lot. He has a very large tongue. I wonder where he goes in the morning, because I get off the bus before him. Sometimes I think he heads down to the local butchers, where they often have a couple of guys with Down’s syndrome sitting on a bench just inside the shop helping to open the door for customers.

Moving on to sweet little old lady, who fits into the category of – you guessed it – old people.

SLOL doesn’t catch the bus as often as SPSB and TSDSG, so I don’t have a big picture mapped out for her. All I really know about her is that she likes to wear granny floral dresses, normally in blue, and she very willingly puts up with the slightly odd, overly chatty mum who also sometimes rides the bus. They have long, one-sided conversations about nothing in particular and SLOL just sits there and nods her smiley little white head. Normally when people get on the bus the drivers don’t wait for them to sit down, they just shut the door and drive off quickly, because they’re worried about being late (I don’t know why they worry, they’re normally 10-20 minutes late in the first place). But when dear old SLOL hops on they wait very patiently for her to get her rickety old body to a seat and lower herself in. They’re obviously more worried about lawsuits than they are about being late.

When I started catching the bus at the beginning of high school, I remember that SPSB made me self-conscious and uncomfortable, TSDSG scared me a little, and SLOL made me worried for her. Now though, I recognise them as fellow bus members. We will never do more than watch each other, but I almost feel as though we’re part of a little family. It’s weird, huh? I find people-watching very lucrative, and even though I’ll forget these three in the future, at least they provide me with early-morning entertainment and at least they hold a place in my heart and mind now.

And it’s like they say – better to have watched and lost than never to have watched at all!

But just in case you ever want to be my friend, here’s a quick and easy guide to what I like and don’t like about you.

I LIKE:

• Chattiness

I’m a huge fan of talkative people mostly because I hate awkward silences. What’s particularly awkward is when I’m in a group of not-chatty people and I stand there making loud and irritating observations about the weather. People tend to nod and stare at their feet. Which only makes me more irritating.

• Interesting things

If you find something fascinating, chances are your enthusiasm will make everybody else fascinated too. Even if it’s not particularly interesting in the first place. Talk to me about things you love. This also helps to get me out of those awkward silences I was telling you about.

• Nerdiness

HELLO, GEEKS! You are my best friends. Don’t hide it, I know who you are.

• Good stories

If you can tell me an engaging story, hoo boy. You’re officially one of my favourite people. There’s nothing better than a funny story. It also helps if it’s an embarrassing one. Because, you know, who doesn’t like laughing at other people? Am I right?

• New things

If you can show me some new things, like new food that I haven’t tried, or interesting events I haven’t been to, that’s great. Even more important than that though is the readiness to try new things. A lot of my friends don’t like to step outside their comfort zones – they like Asian food (I have a lot of Asian friends), they like going to the movies – they’re not normally interested in going to museums or galleries or markets, or eating things they don’t usually eat. Know what I mean? Let me show you some culture and you’ve got the BFF thing in the bag.

I DON’T LIKE:

• Animal noises

This may seem like a weird thing to hate, but seriously. DON’T BARK LIKE A DOG, LOUDLY, IN PUBLIC. IT’S NOT APPEALING. It has happened to me before.

• Inability to take a hint

Really annoying. I don’t want to piss people off by telling them I’m uncomfortable with what they’re doing or saying or anything, but surely you can read my body language. It’s a big ask, but if you want to get close to me you have to use your common sense.

• Uncalled for bitchiness

It’s OK if you have a reason to be annoyed at somebody to complain about them. It’s also OK to just have a generally bad feeling about a person and groan on the inside every time they open their mouth. It’s NOT OK when you start ragging on them when they’ve done nothing and said nothing to hurt you, or when you’re overreacting to what they’ve done or said. Don’t you have anything better to say?

• Uncalled for emo-ness

OK, so emo-ness isn’t technically a word. But before you complain to me about how annoying your parents are because they won’t let you buy slutty 100-dollar heels, or how you wish you were dead because your boyfriend’s away for one night and can’t call you, take a step back, look at your life, and compare it with all the terrible things happening to all the other people on the planet. You are so lucky. Pick yourself up, for goodness’ sake, and find something worthwhile to be upset about.

• Rivalry

This is incredibly shallow of me. Every now and then I get a friend who I feel like I have to constantly one-up. Oh, you did what on the weekend? Well, I went to my holiday house on the beach and kissed a handsome and talented boy. This sort of thing normally happens when I find somebody who’s very like me and good at the things I’m good at. It’s really very shallow.

In the end, though, none of these things define a good or bad friend. People say you can choose your friends, but often I think that’s pretty unrealistic. You get landed with the people you get landed with.

And hey, If I like you, I like you. There are no rules to love.

Getting back into school at the end of next week is going to be HARD.

Noticing my frustration my mum went and found me a bunch of links with suggestions on what to blog about. She also bought me a book of blogging tips. I swear, best mum ever. SO for this particular post I’m going to cheat and let Plinky come up with a topic: List 10 things that make you happy. That is not too taxing for my brain to think about, which is good.

These are 10 things that make me happy – not the top 10 things, just so you know, and in no particular order either.

1. Unicorns

There’s a lot of debate among the online community about whether unicorns are good or the blackest evil. Some people are convinced that unicorns are the spawn of Satan, but I say nay! (See what I did there, because unicorns neigh, and I said nay… ugh, never mind. I’m funny, dammit.) I am unashamed to admit that the sight of a unicorn, especially one paired with a rainbow like Mr Suave on the right there, fills me with girly happiness. Unicorns. Are. Awesome. End of story.

2. Food

It was pointed out to me the other day that it seems like Australians, or at least east-coast Australians, seriously, seriously enjoy their food. Like, a lot, compared to the rest of the world. Being raised in a foodie family, I don’t know how it’s physically possible to not enjoy good food. And by “enjoy”, I mean sit there and moan “this is AMAZING” while eating. I love my food. Actually, just writing this has made me quite hungry. Ramen for dinner!

3. Pointless, trivial, but awesome facts

One of my favourite things is getting attention. (SURPRISE!!!) And I’ve found that one of the best ways to gain attention in short bursts is by knowing useless but impressive facts. It doesn’t come up in conversation very often, I’ll admit, but I pride myself in knowing that the average person spends approximately 3 years of their life on the toilet. And that King Henry VIII was buried with his third wife. And that you’re marginally taller in the morning than you are at night. (I swear I knew all these. I didn’t Google, I promise.)

4. Popping pimples

OK, vaguely gross, but those things are wicked fun. Enough said.

5. John Green

John Green is an American author and internet personality. He is smart, talented, relatively young, totally cute with his son, freaking hilarious, and he and his brother Hank have awesome video making skills. I love all of John’s books and I live for the videos he does. I respect him enormously, and if I ever got to meet him I would either be the happiest or most speechless person in the world. Even though he despises unicorns, he is still one of my ultimate idols and I wish him every fortune in his hopefully long life ahead.

NERDFIGHTERS!

6. Technology that aids communication

As in the internet. And mobile phones. As you can probably tell from my few years of continuous blogging, I love the internet and the internet loves me. Everything fun is on the internet. So much knowledge and creativity and just general STUFF is on the internet. The internet brings cool people (generally) together to do cool things. Seriously, you can never be bored online. And as for phones, I actually really hate talking on the phone because I find it awkward, but texting is super fun. *waggles eyebrows*

7. Movies

There’s not a lot to say on the subject of movies. I really enjoy submerging myself in fictional worlds. I find movies incredibly suggestive and they keep my brain working. That’s about it.

8. Being at home alone

This is like having a party by myself. I can walk around naked, I can either pig out or be too lazy to feed myself, I can sleep all day, I can play REALLY LOUD MUSIC, I can Facebook about playing really loud music…

Actually, looking back on that list it doesn’t sound like too much fun. I guess I just like being by myself, because I do really enjoy doing those things. Those things are very enjoyable.

9. Apple

No, not the fruit, you numbskull, the company. Wanna know why they make me happy? Because all their products are GORGEOUS and their Macs are super user-friendly and generally sexy. Although most of you probably disagree with me on this – you probably think PCs are eternally better than Macs. This is another one of those things that most people are divided over, like the unicorn business – Mac or PC? Actually, in the comments, let me know which product you prefer. I don’t mind PCs at all and I think they’re great too, but I’m generally a Mac person.

10. Writing

Last, but certainly, certainly not least (in fact, if I were doing a top 10 things instead of just a general 10 things then this would probably be right up there in the top 5) writing makes me happy. And I know what you’re saying now, you’re saying “Well, if writing makes you so happy, Za, why haven’t you blogged for a month?” And to that all I can say is that I just don’t know. I LOVE to write but for some reason these holidays my writing muscles have shrivelled up a little bit. So we’ve come full circle, we’re back to the beginning of the post, and I’m still just as sorry for not blogging as I was when I started writing. And really, I have no excuse. But thanks for sticking with me anyway.

I’m off now, this has gone on for long enough. Sayonara, auf Wiedersehen, ciao, au revoir, goodbye!

xx
Za.

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 2,300 times in 2010. That’s about 6 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 31 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 193 posts. There were 17 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 12mb. That’s about a picture per month.

The busiest day of the year was August 18th with 158 views. The most popular post that day was Smile.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, appleofhiseye-bee.blogspot.com, twitter.com, maanddyyy.blogspot.com, and blognomnomhi.blogspot.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for booboomcgoo, random attractive person, girls in short shorts, belly hair on girls, and midriff tops.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

Smile August 2010
8 comments and 1 Like on WordPress.com,

Rainbow May 2010
10 comments

About Me March 2008

Kids Go Moo January 2010

Me November 2010
4 comments

When I was 5 I made a whole imaginary world inside my mind where I lived most nights for about the next 3 years – I was a beautiful princess and everything I owned was beautiful. My castle was beautiful, my street was beautiful, my clothes were beautiful – I even made up beautiful friends, beautiful parents, a beautiful boyfriend with a beautiful car. Not that I needed his car, I just rode my unicorn everywhere. I would imagine myself in this world every night before I went to sleep. I would make up lengthy stories about my adventures within this world, and sometimes I still do when I can’t sleep.

This world was, is so appealing to me because it was perfect and beautiful. I was never sick and nobody died. I could do what I liked and nobody was ever angry. For little me, it was magical.

When I go back to the world nowadays I can never hold my concentration long enough to create a story. Everything gets boring too quickly. I’m too old now for handsome boys, too old for swimming pools of Coco-Pops and pet dolphins, for unicorns and mermaids. I know mythical creatures are just myths and I can’t even have a regular swimming pool, much less one filled with cereal. I know the best boys are not normally gorgeous and they don’t have nice cars.

I like to think I’m an appreciator of beautiful things, but I find it hard to see them. As you get older is it that you notice beauty less or you just realise that there is not as much of it in the world as you thought?

Either way, I don’t think we talk about beauty enough. And I think little children probably see more of it than other people.

So, for the sake of the world and all its beautiful things – what do you remember from childhood? What were your dreams, your favourite things? Where did you go before you went to sleep?

Try to remember.

xx
Za.

I have loads of time to blog today because I’m at home sick by myself. I have cold and I’m all snotty.

What to talk about today? Tell me, random word generator…

Music. Seriously?

GOD, FINE. Music it is.

Well, the first thing that leaps to mind is this, obviously:

I’ve been singing this all day. It’s a Glee cover of Fuck You by Cee Lo Green, except because it’s an early timeslotted, PG-rated show they had to change it to Forget You. Which I think works nicely. I like it better than the original, anyway.

Speaking of which, I’m not a fan of most pop music these days. Like top of the Aussie iTunes top 10 at the moment? Ke$ha. Blerk. And I’m not in love with anything else on it either. I feel like the music industry needs a good kick in the groin and it needs to get away music totally comprised of sythesisers and autotuned voices. Dance tracks are for dancing to, not listening to. Glee does some really great stuff, and I know their music is all autotuned too but to me I don’t notice it so much because most of it is not dance numbers, they have such a wide variety of genres – and at least I know that the leads on Glee can ACTUALLY sing if they want to, they don’t NEED the autotune. Unlike Ke$ha. As far as I’m concerned Ke$ha’s an awful live performer and she just. Can’t. Sing.

I have a point to make but my brother got home. He wants to play TF2. So I have to get off the computer.

xx
Za.

P.S. Reading back on this post, it’s a mess. Sorry bout that.

I know, I’m terrible. There’s really no excuse. Here’s a cute video of a puppy to make up for it.

Happy now? Good. I have some exciting news, brought to you in 5 parts.

PART 1:

I wrote an essay a while ago for my English class about Jane Eyre and her character development throughout the novel. I thought I did OK, but it turns out I did GREAT and I got full theoretical marks (it’s not counted towards my end-of-year report) and my teacher read it out to the class. Having my work complimented, especially my writing, as I’m sure you all know by now, is one of my favourite things. So I was very happy with myself. And I only have you lovely people to thank, because it’s a fact that without this blog my writing skills would not be up to the standard they are now. So thanks for staying with me.

PART 2:

I don’t know if you remember that a while back I won a writing competition at my school? Well this week I got my prize for that. A $10 book voucher for an obscure bookshop in a tiny place called Wahroonga! I am very grateful. Obscure bookshops are the best kinds of bookshops, and bookshops are the best kind of shop. So even though it doesn’t seem like a lot of money and it doesn’t seem like the prize-givers put a lot of effort in, I can assure you that they did put a lot of thought in and I am over the moon to get any kind of prize whatsoever. Again, it’s thanks to you guys.

PART 3:

I got top 7 in my class for a German exam and I got 42/50 for a German assignment. I’m going pretty well at German, as it turns out.

PART 4:

I have exams next week! Next WEEK! *eats fingernails*. I’ve done quite a bit of study (maybe) so I’m pretty confident, but still. SCRAH EXAMS!

PART 5;

I’m going to the movies tomorrow! Wooh!

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

I’m going to the movies with a boy! Yeah! Who’s excited? I’m excited! (You are not allowed to tease me about this, in case you’re wondering. My elder brother has made it clear that right has been reserved for him.) I’ll have a good time, I think. What’s not to love about a date?

OK, I would have written a longer post but I’m writing it on my iPod, so that’s a no-go. I have to go watch an Austen film now. Highlight of my day. Bye!

xx

Za.

And I got $40 off them! Or off their parents at least. Nice mum, really chatty. It’s also seriously great that I live across the road from them half the time. I think they liked me, and seeing as I’m conveniently located hopefully their mum’ll have me back. I liked them, the sweet things.

This week was the first week back at school, unfortunately. Boring boring boring with a little bit of interesting thrown in. Thanks for saving my life, geography. Speaking of school, I also got some bad news about my subject choices for next year this week, which I may or may not remember to tell you about in a later post. I don’t have a lot of time to write about that at the moment, because it is a long story, but I can tell you it’s all sorted out fine. Not great, but fine.

The reason I don’t have a lot of time is because I’m off to a girls’ night in with some friends of my mum’s. And mine? I never know if it’s appropriate to call adults my friends. I think it is. Is it?

We’ll be doing some craft and eating some food and drinking some champagne. Or they will be, at least. I’m taking my badge-maker, which I haven’t used in a while, so that will be great. Lots of fun.

I’m re-reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, one of my favourite authors. It’s about a little girl in the middle of the second world war. If you haven’t read it, you should. It’s artfully and emotionally brilliant. It’s also narrated by Death, which caters to the inner psychotic within us all.

And just before I go, the most interesting part of my week was getting hit on by a hippy with a uke about ten years older than me. I haven’t been chatted up before. He came up and said hi, complemented my red beret and my taste in sorbet (lemon), and asked what I was doing that night. I was kind of stunned. I thought I was eating my sorbet and wearing my beret pretty inconspicuously. When my parents noticed me talking to him and came over I think he realised how young I was and that I just look old for my age, and he walked away pretty quickly. I thought he was cute. Who wouldn’t want a ukelele-playing bright-colours-wearing boyfriend?

OK, I’m off. Mum gets home soon and then we’re leaving. Sayonara. May hippy boyfriends be with you.

xx
Za.