We fought all the time. Whenever I saw him I wanted to pinch him, and he would always retaliate. Once he almost broke my ribs during a footy warm up session. I don’t know why he charged into me to me; it was touch. I was bruised for days. He told me that he didn’t feel bad about what he had done. He never felt bad about anything.
He promised me that he would come to my basketball tournament that Saturday. He told me that he hated going to "those things", but because I was playing he would come. I was so excited. It meant the world to me for him to be there, and I knew he would because he promised...
Only once did we have a 'real' fight.This time there was no pinching, or bruising, or charging; just spilled water, post-its and hurt feelings. It was at work on Friday night. I walked over to his desk to get post-its. He was on the phone with a customer so rather than asking I just took them…
The water spread before I realised what had happened. It was dripping all over his desk and onto the carpet. Everybody was looking over and all the while he was still speaking to the customer, because you know he wanted to uphold good phone etiquette. I just took the post-its and walked away…
He stomped over and snatched them, even the one I was writing on. Now I was speaking to a customer but he bellowed anyway. "What the hell are you doing?” He was mad. He was mad and I felt like crying. I hade not been yelled at like that since I was child. And so I did what any child would do. I confronted him with an email:
From: Geroyan, Caroline
Sent: Friday, 8 June 2007 5:59 PM
To: Aprahamian, Gabriel
Subject: just reply
Number 1: i didnt mean to tip over everything I just needed post-its. Theyre not even rightfully YOURS but if thats how u feel about them then fine...ill respect that.
Number 2: dont yell at me or talk to me in that tone ever again...i didnt deserve it...it was an accident
Number 3: i need post-its
Number 4: IM SORRY..u cant understand how much it KILLS ME to say im sorry to anyone but dont be angry at me..im really sorry...
From: Aprahamian, Gabriel
Sent: Friday, 8 June 2007 7:06 PM
To: Geroyan, Caroline
Subject: RE: if ur not an armo...ull reply
ive had a really shit week and needed to take my anger out
1 whether there mine or not you need to ask for permission
2 you may not have meant to tip it over but you did so an apology could be helpful
3 you just walked off with out even helping fix it with the post its
4 the way I speak to you unfortunately is not your choice so really don't tell me what to do.
...I didn’t think he would come anymore and so I ran on the court without my good luck charm sitting on the grandstand...
At half time I looked up and there he was! He was wearing the pink t-shirt I bought him so he couldn't be missed.
"Hey look, sorry about yesteday. I know I shouldve asked"
"I dont know what you're talking about."
Tuesday 31 March 2009
Sunday 29 March 2009
Caroline, Caroline Pumpkin Eater
Caroline, Caroline Pumpkin Eater
Day 1, May 2:
It is 1.20pm and I have already eaten:
· 4 multi grain Wheat-Bix biscuits drenched in skim milk
· 3 green/jasmine teas
· 3 strawberries
· A handful of sunflower seeds
· A container of road pumpkin, ricotta cheese and spinach with vinegar
· 3 pieces of chocolate.
All this and I am still hungry! I might have some chocolate. No, no I wont. Oh, but I might! Perhaps I shall have a hand full of sunflower seeds instead. I don’t even like them much; I just eat them because the motion of doing so keeps me busy.
I have been sipping away at the same mug of green tea all morning. It is really, really hot. I can’t yet drink it, and \ by the time I can it will be too cold and will taste absolutely abhorrent! Which brings me to my next point: ice tea is disgusting! Tea is meant to be hot! The same goes for coffee! Whipping on a tonne of aesthetically pleasing (but tasteless) cream, on which is sprinkled several kilos of powdered chocolate, and adding a single bean to add ‘aroma’ does not make it taste nice! If anything it makes me feel sick! Whenever I think of ice chocolate I am reminded of those ‘drinks’ my cousin’s and I used to concoct when we were much younger (although we made one of these on the night of my 20th birthday). When we had finished eating, we would plonk left overs into our half full glasses and dare each other to drink it. As we became older, we started bribing one another within money. THAT is what iced coffee is to me!
I miss our Sunday lunches at grandma’s. The whole family would get together and spend the entire afternoon and evening eating, playing cards, gossiping, laughing etc. The men would be in charge of cooking the meat, and the ladies worked in the kitchen, preparing side dishes, salads and the rice. There would always be too much food, and even after we at three plates grandma would always refill them, exclaiming, “is that all that you ate, come on I will put some more for you.” You would say no but she would insist. The only way you could escape was by exclaiming that you desperately needed to go to the toilet, or pretending that you could hear somebody calling out your name.
…And then came dessert. Grandma would always feed me bananas rolled in condensed milk, dipped in cinnamon and wrapped in Lebanese bread. Eating this every day after school is one of my fondest childhood memories. Mum would beg her to stop feeding me:
“Stop it, she’s putting on too much weight!”
“She’s just growing, if she didn’t want it she wouldn’t take it.”
“She is SEVEN! What does she know about self-control? You put something sweet in her face, she is going to eat it!”
Mum has told me many stories about how much I used to eat when I was younger. One time I ate so much chocolate, that when I finally vomited it came out brown. Another time my parents, aunts and uncles all played a joke on me. They bet that I would eat chocolate in my sleep, and so, they placed little bits of what was my favourite at the time, Chomp, in my mouth. And sure enough, even though I was in deep sleep, I chewed and swallowed every bit until I finished the whole bar!
I still love chocolate. I no longer eat it to the point that I need to vomit, though.
Yesterday my favourite chocolate, Nestle Creamy Blend, was on special for $2.49! So I bought a block, and I ate half of it on the way to my friend Shakila’s house.
I ate 3 pieces while driving between Epping and Beecroft Roads. Actually, I had sucked away at each separate piece with the intent of devouring them.
Beecroft Road to Pennant Hills Road: 6 pieces.
Pennant Hills Road to Castle Hill Road: 3 more pieces.
By this time the chocolate became like a drug to me. After the first hit of that succulent taste and creamy texture I needed more. Sucking just wasn’t satisfying me anymore; I had to bite each bit. Nor was eating one piece at a time. I had to put two, three, four in my mouth at once for that extravagant chocolate hit!
Castle Hill Road to Country Drive: Four more lines.
Nom Nom Nom!
I could have done without my little ‘treat’. If I didn’t go into the supermarket to buy GLEN 20 (yes, yes random I know), I wouldn’t have seen the chocolate that I was so tempted to purchase for a low, low price of $2.49!
Okay, okay I lied! I bought THREE blocks! Chocaholics Anonymous here I come!
Nom Nom Nom!
Oh, and I didn’t offer any to Shak once I reached her place. Stop judging me, it is just too good to give away!
“Hey, you made it over quick”
“There wasn’t much traffic”
“Ohh okay, do you want to go and have some Thai for dinner?”
“Nu nu I am on a diet”
“Ooh come on, are you sure?”
“Okay, fine, whatever”
So much for the DIET!
We went to this great place at Hornsby. I don’t remember what it is called (even though we had been there almost 100 times). In the interest of not sounding like a restaurant review, lets just say that the food there is really yummy!
Shak ordered Pad Thai. She always orders the same dish, and always says the same thing when she has finished:
“Next time I’ll order something different.”
I ordered a Pad Thai too. I tried to be a little more cultural and order something like fried rice, but there were too many options, I didn’t know what anything was, and the waitress was standing over me eager to take my order. So I succumbed to the pressure and ordered the regular.
As usual, once we finished our meals Shak felt sick and I unbuttoned my jeans.
“Hey Caroline, do you want dessert?”
“Nuu, I am on a diet, remember?”
“ Oooh come on!”
“Okay, I will have a sticky date pudding.”
…
I was invited to my best friend’s house for a dinner party last Friday night. It had taken her two days to prepare. She served:
lasagne
vegie pizza
garden salad
ricotta and spinach pasta shells
I watched as she placed each dish on the table, setting mats under the ones that were hot. As soon as she yelled out that dinner was ready everybody stopped what they were doing and scurried to the table. For about ten minutes nobody said a word, their mouths opening only to ingest food and sip their drinks.
That’s the thing about food: it is the one thing that everybody has in common. I am amazed at its force, how people slave for it, kill for it and even die for it! In this case it brought together a group of boys and girls who had not seen each other for over a month. There was always an excuse: some of us had too much uni work to do, others were travelling and sometimes people’s parents didn’t let them go out. But this time the reason to meet was dinner, and the seven of us succumbed to it.
Oh, and also mandarins are in season.
Day 1, May 2:
It is 1.20pm and I have already eaten:
· 4 multi grain Wheat-Bix biscuits drenched in skim milk
· 3 green/jasmine teas
· 3 strawberries
· A handful of sunflower seeds
· A container of road pumpkin, ricotta cheese and spinach with vinegar
· 3 pieces of chocolate.
All this and I am still hungry! I might have some chocolate. No, no I wont. Oh, but I might! Perhaps I shall have a hand full of sunflower seeds instead. I don’t even like them much; I just eat them because the motion of doing so keeps me busy.
I have been sipping away at the same mug of green tea all morning. It is really, really hot. I can’t yet drink it, and \ by the time I can it will be too cold and will taste absolutely abhorrent! Which brings me to my next point: ice tea is disgusting! Tea is meant to be hot! The same goes for coffee! Whipping on a tonne of aesthetically pleasing (but tasteless) cream, on which is sprinkled several kilos of powdered chocolate, and adding a single bean to add ‘aroma’ does not make it taste nice! If anything it makes me feel sick! Whenever I think of ice chocolate I am reminded of those ‘drinks’ my cousin’s and I used to concoct when we were much younger (although we made one of these on the night of my 20th birthday). When we had finished eating, we would plonk left overs into our half full glasses and dare each other to drink it. As we became older, we started bribing one another within money. THAT is what iced coffee is to me!
I miss our Sunday lunches at grandma’s. The whole family would get together and spend the entire afternoon and evening eating, playing cards, gossiping, laughing etc. The men would be in charge of cooking the meat, and the ladies worked in the kitchen, preparing side dishes, salads and the rice. There would always be too much food, and even after we at three plates grandma would always refill them, exclaiming, “is that all that you ate, come on I will put some more for you.” You would say no but she would insist. The only way you could escape was by exclaiming that you desperately needed to go to the toilet, or pretending that you could hear somebody calling out your name.
…And then came dessert. Grandma would always feed me bananas rolled in condensed milk, dipped in cinnamon and wrapped in Lebanese bread. Eating this every day after school is one of my fondest childhood memories. Mum would beg her to stop feeding me:
“Stop it, she’s putting on too much weight!”
“She’s just growing, if she didn’t want it she wouldn’t take it.”
“She is SEVEN! What does she know about self-control? You put something sweet in her face, she is going to eat it!”
Mum has told me many stories about how much I used to eat when I was younger. One time I ate so much chocolate, that when I finally vomited it came out brown. Another time my parents, aunts and uncles all played a joke on me. They bet that I would eat chocolate in my sleep, and so, they placed little bits of what was my favourite at the time, Chomp, in my mouth. And sure enough, even though I was in deep sleep, I chewed and swallowed every bit until I finished the whole bar!
I still love chocolate. I no longer eat it to the point that I need to vomit, though.
Yesterday my favourite chocolate, Nestle Creamy Blend, was on special for $2.49! So I bought a block, and I ate half of it on the way to my friend Shakila’s house.
I ate 3 pieces while driving between Epping and Beecroft Roads. Actually, I had sucked away at each separate piece with the intent of devouring them.
Beecroft Road to Pennant Hills Road: 6 pieces.
Pennant Hills Road to Castle Hill Road: 3 more pieces.
By this time the chocolate became like a drug to me. After the first hit of that succulent taste and creamy texture I needed more. Sucking just wasn’t satisfying me anymore; I had to bite each bit. Nor was eating one piece at a time. I had to put two, three, four in my mouth at once for that extravagant chocolate hit!
Castle Hill Road to Country Drive: Four more lines.
Nom Nom Nom!
I could have done without my little ‘treat’. If I didn’t go into the supermarket to buy GLEN 20 (yes, yes random I know), I wouldn’t have seen the chocolate that I was so tempted to purchase for a low, low price of $2.49!
Okay, okay I lied! I bought THREE blocks! Chocaholics Anonymous here I come!
Nom Nom Nom!
Oh, and I didn’t offer any to Shak once I reached her place. Stop judging me, it is just too good to give away!
“Hey, you made it over quick”
“There wasn’t much traffic”
“Ohh okay, do you want to go and have some Thai for dinner?”
“Nu nu I am on a diet”
“Ooh come on, are you sure?”
“Okay, fine, whatever”
So much for the DIET!
We went to this great place at Hornsby. I don’t remember what it is called (even though we had been there almost 100 times). In the interest of not sounding like a restaurant review, lets just say that the food there is really yummy!
Shak ordered Pad Thai. She always orders the same dish, and always says the same thing when she has finished:
“Next time I’ll order something different.”
I ordered a Pad Thai too. I tried to be a little more cultural and order something like fried rice, but there were too many options, I didn’t know what anything was, and the waitress was standing over me eager to take my order. So I succumbed to the pressure and ordered the regular.
As usual, once we finished our meals Shak felt sick and I unbuttoned my jeans.
“Hey Caroline, do you want dessert?”
“Nuu, I am on a diet, remember?”
“ Oooh come on!”
“Okay, I will have a sticky date pudding.”
…
I was invited to my best friend’s house for a dinner party last Friday night. It had taken her two days to prepare. She served:
lasagne
vegie pizza
garden salad
ricotta and spinach pasta shells
I watched as she placed each dish on the table, setting mats under the ones that were hot. As soon as she yelled out that dinner was ready everybody stopped what they were doing and scurried to the table. For about ten minutes nobody said a word, their mouths opening only to ingest food and sip their drinks.
That’s the thing about food: it is the one thing that everybody has in common. I am amazed at its force, how people slave for it, kill for it and even die for it! In this case it brought together a group of boys and girls who had not seen each other for over a month. There was always an excuse: some of us had too much uni work to do, others were travelling and sometimes people’s parents didn’t let them go out. But this time the reason to meet was dinner, and the seven of us succumbed to it.
Oh, and also mandarins are in season.
Wednesday 4 March 2009
The Hardest Things:
It has been the hardest thing I have had ever had to do, to:
- see you every morning but not touch you
- laugh with you but not kiss you
- touch you but not taste you
- talk to but not understand you
- walk away when you say good bye
- try not to cry when you hold her hand
- not dream of you when you are all I can think about
- forget your smile
- remember your faults
- laugh as hard as I did when I was with you
- not think of you every second of every day
- not talk about you
- not let you see what you mean to me
- smile your way when I really want to kiss you
- pretend that you don’t exist when you are my world
- not cry when I see you with her
- pretend like everything is fine when I am dying inside
- say goodbye and watch you leave without chasing you
- to drive by your street and not into your driveway
- imagine the rest of my life without you
- think about not having you in my life
- imagine what my life would be like if I had never met you
- listen to love songs and not think about you
- read something and not think about you
- watch something and not think about you
- not have you on my brain the second before I sleep
- not have you on my brain the second before I wake
- know that she is with you and not me
- see you
- not see you
- want you so bad that I want to cry
-to speak with her and act like everything is okay when deep down in side I am trying to understand what she has over me? While trying so hard to begin to comprehend why you chose her and imagine how she could ever make you happy in ways that I could, and so much more. To know that she has you and I don’t, and she may spend the Rest Of Your Life with you and I wont.
- see you every morning but not touch you
- laugh with you but not kiss you
- touch you but not taste you
- talk to but not understand you
- walk away when you say good bye
- try not to cry when you hold her hand
- not dream of you when you are all I can think about
- forget your smile
- remember your faults
- laugh as hard as I did when I was with you
- not think of you every second of every day
- not talk about you
- not let you see what you mean to me
- smile your way when I really want to kiss you
- pretend that you don’t exist when you are my world
- not cry when I see you with her
- pretend like everything is fine when I am dying inside
- say goodbye and watch you leave without chasing you
- to drive by your street and not into your driveway
- imagine the rest of my life without you
- think about not having you in my life
- imagine what my life would be like if I had never met you
- listen to love songs and not think about you
- read something and not think about you
- watch something and not think about you
- not have you on my brain the second before I sleep
- not have you on my brain the second before I wake
- know that she is with you and not me
- see you
- not see you
- want you so bad that I want to cry
-to speak with her and act like everything is okay when deep down in side I am trying to understand what she has over me? While trying so hard to begin to comprehend why you chose her and imagine how she could ever make you happy in ways that I could, and so much more. To know that she has you and I don’t, and she may spend the Rest Of Your Life with you and I wont.
Aniela
Aniela
Aniela has short brown hair, the sort of pixie look that I envy but cannot pull off because my hair is too curly. Damn dad, I had to inherit his genes. I couldn’t have had mum’s hair; dark, long and straight.
Her hair used to be blonde. Since making this huge transition people have thought that Aniela is gay. So, when her hair was blonde and short nobody questioned her sexuality, but now that it is brown she is suddenly regarded as a dyke. What a concept!
“Why did you change your hair colour from blonde to brown” I asked. “Too expensive” she answered. It was at this point that I empathised with her. I also used to have peroxide blonde hair, but $200 every 6 weeks for a full head of foils surely puts a dent in a student’s wallet. Now I pay about $10 and buy what I call “packet colour” from Woollies every six weeks. What a saving! I may not be as aesthetically pleasing, but I carry an extra $190 in my pocket. I don’t think Aniela even colours her hair with “packet colour” because it is really short. She probably cuts it every six weeks. I never asked but it looks neat and in-style enough to assume so.
She told me that she is Polish, a nationality I would have placed upon her. She actually looks like Maja, my Polish friend who also rocks a short, dark do, but nobody thinks that she is a lesbian. Why is that? Come to think of it, she is also an ex blonde. This transition never made anybody second-guess her sexuality. Why is that?
I think that Aniela is a really cool name. Actually, I think Aniela is pretty cool. She lives in Chatswood so she must be snobby. So, so far one might assume that Aniela is a snobby lesbian! That is pretty plausible right. But that’s not why she is cool. She is cool because she just is. Aniela is a short, dark haired, Polish chick from Chatswood who is cool.
Aniela told me about her family. She explained how they escaped from Poland during World War II and eventuated in East Africa, and then made their way to England and then over to Australia during the seventies. Isn’t that cool? Oh and her grandmother is Irish. She must be a drunk then, right?
Aniela had a boyfriend for four years. That’s a really long time, in fact that’s almost a quarter if her entire life! Well actually they went out in primary school too. I thought that was pretty sweet. Hmm she must not be a lesbian after all. Oh, but they broke up all but a year ago and Aniela recently coloured her hair brown, so this probably means that she turned to the same sex after she ended her relationship with her boyfriend?
All across Europe Aniela has been, but funnily enough never to Poland. “But aren’t you Polish?” I asked. “Yeah but I never got a chance to go.” When she told me about her travels I became quite envious. She asked me if I had been to Europe. “I haven’t found anyone that I want to travel with yet,” I answered. “I went with my boyfriend” she responded. I became envious at that also as I too want a boyfriend, especially one with whom I may travel. But they broke up. So I needn’t be jealous anymore.
After all you may have read and heard you have probably figured that I don’t know much about Aniela, besides that she is a Polish girl from Chatswood who has a really funky haircut. Other than that I have merely made many assumptions about her with the minimal information I have. Is she a lesbian because of her short brown hair? Maybe. Is her grandmother a drunk because she is Irish? Perhaps. Is she snobby because she is from Chatswood? Possibly. All really I know for sure is that Aniela is a Polish girl who has a really cool short, brown hair do.
Aniela has short brown hair, the sort of pixie look that I envy but cannot pull off because my hair is too curly. Damn dad, I had to inherit his genes. I couldn’t have had mum’s hair; dark, long and straight.
Her hair used to be blonde. Since making this huge transition people have thought that Aniela is gay. So, when her hair was blonde and short nobody questioned her sexuality, but now that it is brown she is suddenly regarded as a dyke. What a concept!
“Why did you change your hair colour from blonde to brown” I asked. “Too expensive” she answered. It was at this point that I empathised with her. I also used to have peroxide blonde hair, but $200 every 6 weeks for a full head of foils surely puts a dent in a student’s wallet. Now I pay about $10 and buy what I call “packet colour” from Woollies every six weeks. What a saving! I may not be as aesthetically pleasing, but I carry an extra $190 in my pocket. I don’t think Aniela even colours her hair with “packet colour” because it is really short. She probably cuts it every six weeks. I never asked but it looks neat and in-style enough to assume so.
She told me that she is Polish, a nationality I would have placed upon her. She actually looks like Maja, my Polish friend who also rocks a short, dark do, but nobody thinks that she is a lesbian. Why is that? Come to think of it, she is also an ex blonde. This transition never made anybody second-guess her sexuality. Why is that?
I think that Aniela is a really cool name. Actually, I think Aniela is pretty cool. She lives in Chatswood so she must be snobby. So, so far one might assume that Aniela is a snobby lesbian! That is pretty plausible right. But that’s not why she is cool. She is cool because she just is. Aniela is a short, dark haired, Polish chick from Chatswood who is cool.
Aniela told me about her family. She explained how they escaped from Poland during World War II and eventuated in East Africa, and then made their way to England and then over to Australia during the seventies. Isn’t that cool? Oh and her grandmother is Irish. She must be a drunk then, right?
Aniela had a boyfriend for four years. That’s a really long time, in fact that’s almost a quarter if her entire life! Well actually they went out in primary school too. I thought that was pretty sweet. Hmm she must not be a lesbian after all. Oh, but they broke up all but a year ago and Aniela recently coloured her hair brown, so this probably means that she turned to the same sex after she ended her relationship with her boyfriend?
All across Europe Aniela has been, but funnily enough never to Poland. “But aren’t you Polish?” I asked. “Yeah but I never got a chance to go.” When she told me about her travels I became quite envious. She asked me if I had been to Europe. “I haven’t found anyone that I want to travel with yet,” I answered. “I went with my boyfriend” she responded. I became envious at that also as I too want a boyfriend, especially one with whom I may travel. But they broke up. So I needn’t be jealous anymore.
After all you may have read and heard you have probably figured that I don’t know much about Aniela, besides that she is a Polish girl from Chatswood who has a really funky haircut. Other than that I have merely made many assumptions about her with the minimal information I have. Is she a lesbian because of her short brown hair? Maybe. Is her grandmother a drunk because she is Irish? Perhaps. Is she snobby because she is from Chatswood? Possibly. All really I know for sure is that Aniela is a Polish girl who has a really cool short, brown hair do.
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