28 May 2004

Exams coming up veeery soon. And about a million other assignments due like, yesterday that I haven’t come close to starting. Am starting to stress. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to survive next year when our teachers are not as slack and generous-marking as this year. I am going to die…

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//8:22 am

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12 May 2004

I have fully exhausted myself going into every chemist and makeup shop I come across trying to find the elusive range of Sugar Baby cosmetics. I even went on the Vogue magazine message board, for god’s sake! I swear - it’s becoming a full-blown obsession. I simply cannot say no to gorgeously packaged lipgloss. (Or any lipgloss, come to think of it. I could probably feed a starving third-world country for three weeks with my stockpile of sweet-smelling lippy stuff.) Especially if it’s printed with stylised 1950s cartoons. I love everything about the 1950s – the fashion, the hair, the glossy prints, the corny housewife-oriented advertising (“I’ve got the house, I’m GETTING the man!”), Marilyn Monroe, Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn… And the voluptuous ideal of the perfect woman is so much better than the standard anorexic lollipop of today. I was so born in the wrong era.

So anyway, Priceline says they’re going to have it in stock by the very end of May. (Yay!) You know what? I am so going to finally get my hands on the Sugar Baby stuff and discover that it’s totally crap and not worth shelling out ten bucks for. Wouldn’t that be ironic.

Meanwhile, I seem to be spending a disproportionate amount of time in or around our local Billabong- and Roxy-stocking surf shop. Considering I never actually buy ninety-five dollar branded acrylic jumpers and the like. Hmm.

Something to do with the extremely hot blonde sales assistant, perhaps? Hmm. Could be, could be. (Jolly good guess, Sherlock…)

And I so thought I was over blondes! Turns out I was wrong. I have also developed a very specific thing for pretty boys. The blonder the better. (God help me this time.) Which puts my future romantic prospects in very dire straits. (I am so totally hopeless.)

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//4:34 pm

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6 May 2004

Went to the city and wandered around aimlessly for hours. It’s seriously not good for me; I always end up in Darrell Lea or Chocolate Box or both and cannot resist gorging myself on their expansive ranges of fattening cocoa indulgences. Especially when I’m in there alone – my self-control pretty much just flies out the window. (Oh well, at least I’m burning it off by window shopping.) I picked up a foamy hot chocolate on the way, and with it went into all the usual girly clothes shops with emaciated models and booming Top 40 music. I popped into the slightly more upmarket ones as well, filled with way overpriced skimpy tops I will never be able to afford and piles of folded sweaters, still with the emaciated models but with impeccably dressed and totally scary shop assistants in place of the booming music.

I walked past Tiffany & Co. a few times and I swear the security guard was oh-so-casually swinging a DIAMOND NECKLACE in his meaty hands like it was a set of bloody knuckle-chucks or something. I didn’t dare go in myself, but as I peered in their elegantly understated windows I could see endless scatterings of perfectly coiffed, pearl wearing middle-aged women considering the jewellery, their hapless golf-playing (and no doubt loaded) husbands trailing behind. And I thought to myself, someday. Someday I will march right in there and be able to buy myself whatever catches my eye.

One day I will no longer be just another in the anonymous masses walking by and staring wistfully in. One day it is going to be my name up in the bright lights, my face plastered on their TV screens. Because one day, ambition and hard work will take me where no amount of dreaming can.

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//9:48 am

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4 May 2004

Went in the afternoon to a nursing home for community service. Our supervisor, besides for freaking us out by telling us all these horror old people stories (oh, why didn’t I just volunteer to go to a childcare centre?), let us out half an hour early. Good thing.

As I was walking back to the train station I had to walk past my old primary school. As the old redbrick building appeared over the top of the hills, I felt a wistful nostalgia come over me and spread over my face with smile. I kept walking and gradually more familiar sights came into view – the tanbark playground, the basketball court, the miniscule oval. The pirate house where in sixth grade we got so bored that we ended up playing spin the bottle with a discarded coke can. Monkey bars, and the permanent portables where we spent many a torturous hour listening to Enya wail over the silent classroom.

Nothing had changed a single bit, and in my mind I could see the ghosts of students past running through the patchy grass. All was filled with the silence of half-learning children, and suddenly I was one of them again. It was Grade Six all over, one of the best years of my life. I could recall all the minor dramas, all the saved memories of our sheltered, self-absorbed world. In retrospect it was so simple back then, so happy and worry-free. Sure it was huge news at the time when Martin dumped Jenny because he’d been trying to get closer to Jenny’s best friend all that time, and when Katie kissed James in the middle of the oval because Susie dared her to, but looking back now? How big we felt, how old and important! School was cruizy, and all our petty imaginary troubles weren’t a patch on teenage angst. God, it was a wonderful time to be alive.

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//8:17 am

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