Things are being difficult and for once, again, words fail me.

I GOT INTO UNI FATHERFUCKERS! WOO! I am so fucking pleased, man.

Professional Writing&Publishing, here I come. Stay tuned for me becoming an insanely rich, famous and happy author.

http://www.topatoco.com/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=TO&Product_Code=QC-MESSES-PRINT&Category_Code=QC

Who wants to buy Kendal a present? :D

I am the happiest I have been in my life.

On reflection, it appears that I am less reluctant to talk about my issues these days because I wish to avoid being seen as a cliche.

Using a Herculean effort and only a little chemical assistance, I got up early today and went to the dentist. Since this is Land of the Elderly the dentist I randomly picked from Google was a ritzy private practice type place inhabiting what can only be called a miniature castle.

Spent ten minutes filling out forms and waiting while the lovely receptionist ("looks like you've got some swelling!") called the government and told them to pay for my visit. After gruelling debate, we decided to go dutch while I sat counting my pennies.

I got another x-ray and in a hilarious twist of ironic irony the tooth that has already breached the gum and been causing me pain the last few days won't need removing. Oh no, both teeth on the right side of my face are doing well, coming in straight. The problem is that I have an infection in my gums, possibly due to the fact that food keeps getting stuck in the hole in my gum where the tooth is now poking its head through.

But on the left side the bottom tooth is full-on sideways, the top one is pointing towards the teeth which have put in the hard yards in my mouth, and as the handsome dentist with Xander-brown eyes was kind enough to tell me, I'm going to need to have my gums and bone cut into. YAY!

Then he - wink, wink - charged me for three small x-rays instead of one big x-ray. The government won't pay for half of the big one, but will for the small ones. What a guy!

In conclusion, my face is apparently grotesquely misshapen and swollen, I need to take antibiotics to make my gums not infected, and start saving the thousands of dollars that cutting teeth out of my skull will cost. Shiiiiiit.

I'm happy! I've had such a splendid time the last week, this weekend was Norfolk Basement for Tree's Super Night, and the Rosemount for Harlequin League and today lying around in bed reading & going out soon.

I love my friends, they are beautiful wonderful people. I love my life, it is a beautiful and wonderful thing.

I really feel like I've reached some new peak, and can look back on the path I've taken and as much as I regret its length and circuitousness, well, it brought me here, didn't it?

I HAVE A CRUSH AND IT IS AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE LIKE AN ILL-FITTING BRA.

I am waiting for the day that somebody other than Zianna can fathom my mind in its entirety, dark corners and confusing stumbles towards truths included, and love it.

Two really good days!

Sunday I went to the beach and when I got back after my little splish splash, I had a message from Anna reminding me that there was Easter dinner at her house and that I was not there when I should be! So I basically ran out of the house and got there in time for her delicious cooking and I think when I am a millionaire I will employ her as my personal chef.

It was wonderful to see people again and good times were had by all.

Then Monday I dragged myself out of bed and went back to Anna's party pad for a delicious breakfast full of delicious foods and coffee :D I went psycho on the caffeine and sugar and ran around a lot and we went to the park and played Ultimate Frisbee and despite some inflamed lungs, I still had lots of fun.

But I'd forgotten to take my meds before I went, so late afternoon I started getting anxious and it was terribly annoying. Plus it was raining so I was too afraid to drive home, haha. But after a couple of hours of hanging out with people and watching hilarious cartoons (and Family Guy) I was sleepy and drove home. Which was, in retrospect, a bad idea, since I was really sleepy and my eyes were starting to play tricks on me on the very last bit of the drive. Oh well, I'm alive and have learnt my lesson.

So in general the weekend was good and I love spending time with my beloved friends and I fully intend to do it more often.

( House spoiler )

I'm watching SVU now, someone being abused and killed is more soothing to my soul. Who is this random person? I don't know. They are a mystery to me now. And Ice-T and I will solve it with street style and flair.

Sooo I went to the x-ray place this morning and they shot me full of Christmas cheer (the radiologist was sooooo nice when I told her I hate needles) and I have to go back soon to take a nap while a giant camera takes photos of my bones.

Anyway I'm pretty sure that the radioactive dye is going to trigger off my superpowers, so if I next post after becoming the World's Most Fabulous Superhero (who's also fun at parties), well, I told you so.

I wish I wasn't such a commitment-phobe :(

Ok so maybe I'm an incredible fag, but All You Need Is Love from the Across the Universe soundtrack makes me feel all tingly and magical.

Also, my vacuum cleaner doesn't suck anymore, which really sucks.

I felt as clear and light and pure as a glass of sunlit rainwater as the guardian led me through the tunnels to the outside. It was daylight, and as I blinked into the fierce sunlight I felt as if it pierced me and filled me up. - Isobelle Carmody

Last night, at one point, something clicked within me, and it seems as though my mind and perspective before was from behind a textured glass and impossible to see through. And now that glass is solid and I see things how they are, and how they should be, and see that there is so much love and beauty filling my scope and making life a thing to cherish and behold.

I feel like I am burning up now, have been burning up in red tongues of flame but it is the pain necessary for growth, and soon, soon, out of the ash I will rise, transformed.

Ok so I am reading this book called Biting Anorexia by Lucy Howard-Taylor and there are a few things why it pisses me off.
1. TOTAL WASTED RIP OFF. Like, the writing style closely imitates Marya Hornbacher's at points, and there are two parts that I've read so far where a phrase has basically been lifted out of that book.
2. This girl is a year younger than me, my height, and from Australia. She frequented 'pro-ana' forums and I reckon she has a LiveJournal. This makes me laugh, because the odds are I have been a bitch to her at some point.
3. Her poetry is just GOD AWFUL. I'm no Sylvia Plath, but good god, if this kind of thing is being PUBLISHED then I weep for modern literature.
4. This girl is a year younger than me and has spend what I've read (just over half) of the book complaining about how her life sucks and how she's a failure and she'll never achieve all her ambitious dreams (one point: a childhood dream of hers was to become the first female president of Australia. I am clearly smarter because even as a child I wanted to become the first female prime-minister of Australia). This is incredibly annoying because, despite a brief flirtation with anorexia (and, despite another year's worth of what seem like entries lifted from her LJ, she was only anorexic for half a year at the most), she has managed to become Head Prefect of her school, and not only passed her HSC but did well enough to get into English/Law at Sydney Uni. She doesn't seem to understand that that is success, that she only played with depression and mental anguish for the last half of her final year of high school. She could have been a lot less lucky and spent the last two years of high school in a dark pit and the four years following it trying and discarding other ways to live with the innate wrongness in her mind. Poor baby had parents who hadn't divorced and who could afford to send her to a private girls' school for 12 years (haha sorry Zi) and a psychiatrist and nutritionist and all that jazz.

I think the most galling thing, though, is that this girl is a year younger than me, a far worse writer than me (and that is not even me over-exaggerating my ability) but last year she had her book published and now people are going to be reading it, and judging by the plethora of self-assuring positive reviews on the back cover and third page, considering it to be a good piece of work, when it is most definitely not. I'm only finishing reading it because I am a master of masochism, the duchess of (self)destruction.

As our society continues along its hell-bent course, more of these books are going to be published by people being 'brave' and 'insightful' about mental illnesses. And some of them are going to be gems, like Wasted or Prozac Nation, and some of them are going to crap. I just need to try and forget the latter and not let it derail me from producing the former.

PS. If my computer was working right now we all know I'd be spending the night getting stoned and stalking this girl down. I dearly would like to read her online journal entries from when she was a pro-ana twit.

It's easy --

All you need is love.