religious viewpoints.

You know, when I pray it’s never for me. And it’s always the same thing. Not that I pray very often, only when I’m at church which is about twice a year. I pray for family that has passed, I used to pray for my brother to be more respectful (though that’s getting better so I stopped), I pray for my other brother and sister-in-law to live safely and happily. I pray for my friends if they are in trouble. I’ve always been aware of my wellbeing and easy life so it feels rude praying for myself when there’s nothing I truly need that I don’t already have.

Oh that’s the other person I pray for, our sponsor child in Africa; Kefasi Macheza. You know how most kids dream of being rich and famous? Well in my dreams of that I was a superstar singer (ironic since I can’t sing at all, I know) who sponsored one child on each continent, if not more. I always wanted to help others, please others. I'm big on people pleasing. That’s why I’m horrible at saying no to people. Mind you, I have learnt that this isn’t always the best attitude in relationships or work as it leads to constant giving and never asking or expecting anything in return, which isn’t fair on me. But moving on.

Sometimes I wish I prayed more often, but mostly I think it’s bull. Not useless. Not at all. I think it’s a good way to ask for help if you’re too stubborn or scared to actually ask someone real. And I think it’s a useful way to get things off your chest and be honest about what you need. But do I think God is listening or that he’ll respond? God, no (see what I did there?). I used to test this when I was younger and had to attend church every Sunday. I’d say things like “if you are listening God, give me a sign, say something back”. I knew I’d never get a response and I never did. Though maybe I never got a response because I never believed I would. I only just thought about that now. Hmm.

But yet, I do believe in God, or in a higher power. And I like the idea that someone is watching over me, if not responding to me. And I believe it doesn’t matter what name you use – Buddha, Krishna, Christ – it’s all the same thing. I love what religion teaches. I hate what religion actually is. It teaches love, kindness, compassion, acceptance, forgiveness. All valid lessons in life, any life. But it is contradicting, power seeking, outdated (at least Christianity is, I can’t speak for the others), money hungry and corrupt. It is man-made and it is an excuse for war. Therefore, I cannot say I am religious, because I completely disagree with what it has become and how those who are strong believers try to push it on those who are not. Isn’t it also supposed to teach respect? Well then, respect those with a different viewpoint to yourself, you self righteous religious person.

I tried looking up what catergory I can be placed in regards to my view on religion and God but didn't really get anywhere. Not Catholic because I don't believe the stories in the Bible. Not an Agnostic because they neither accept nor deny the existence of God. Not a Theist because they only believe in one God whereas I believe there might be more. I half decided on Henotheist because they believe in more than one God but only worship one, before realising I really don't care that much after all. I believe what I do and it's probably not going to fit into a nice little definition that other people also follow.

I believe in faith. That great leap in trusting something unknown. I believe in doing good – not because it will get you into heaven or because what goes around comes around – simply because doing good is good. End of story. Only thing religion should worry about.

Oh and p.s. two days of blogging in a row - look at me go!

new years friends.

So, New Years Eve is just around the corner now. A time to get drunk and be with friends. I’m not sure I’ll really be doing either. The drinking I’ll get to another time, possibly the next time I blog. But suffice to say I’m not a big drinker, though since it is New Years, I’ll probably make the exception and at least intend to drink (whether that results in getting drunk or giving up and switching back to coke halfway through the night, only time will tell). But the friends part, I will discuss here and now.

You see, this year I’m spending New Years Eve with my boyfriend and his friends. Of course, ideally I’d like to spend it with my friends and my boyfriend, but this isn’t an ideal world and it’s hard to organise that when we live north and he lives south. The other big problem with organising that is I don’t have a lot of friends to go out with. Sad to admit, I know, but it’s true. I can count the friends I have from primary/high school on one hand. I can count the friends I’ve made and constantly make an effort to see from uni using just my elbows alone. So, that’s less than seven friends. Of course there are many people who I’m friendly with, but there’s a difference between friends – the people you get along with and friends – the people you can call up and hang out one on one with. It is the latter to which I am referring.

Out of these friends, the biggest group I can have at a time is three. Myself, and two others. Because the rest of the friends aren’t part of the same group and heaven knows you can’t just throw everyone together like a mix pack of m&m’s and expect them to all get along just so you can have a big group to go out with and take nice group photos with. Oh, that being said, I have forgotten ‘the boys’. The boys are a group of about five to ten of my brother’s friends who are great as individuals but irresponsible, loud, hard to organise and known to bail out or get into a fight halfway through the night when you put them all together. Not the best for organising what’s supposed to be the biggest night of the year with.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the people I have in my life are amazing and I would much rather have just a handful of really great people than a roomful of only okay people. But upon hearing about these great big girls’ nights out or holidays of 10 friends from others, it makes me sad to know I don’t have that. One of the things I envy most about my boyfriend (though doubt he truly understands this ... unless he’s reading it now) is his friends. Eight of them total, five boys, three girls. The perfect ratio, because let’s be honest, if there’s too many girls it turns bitchy and whiney and I just hate girls when they’re like that. They go out clubbing together, they go to concerts together, they go on holidays together. And it’s always fun and it’s always easy. Organising ‘the boys’ is rarely easy, always last minute and has a real possibility of failing. Now, I would never try to push myself into this group. They are his friends and they’ve been his friends long before I came into the picture. They are all from high school. But it would be nice to able to hang out with them and experience that big group thing a little more than I do at the moment.

High school is definitely the easy way to establish a group of friends. My high school group did used to be bigger, but things change. And once you leave high school, how do you add extra people to the group? You can’t just bring in one of your friends and hope the rest of the group gets along with and happily adopts them. Because even if you try to do this, that person will always be primarily your friend and either they might feel slightly left out or the group might feel slightly threatened/annoyed. So, you can try to all meet someone and become friends with them at once. Which is hard to do since it’s rare your group will all be in a place where it’s easy to meet new people. Uni was good for new people, but what are the odds you’re all studying the same thing? Work is good for new people, but how many people work with all their friends? And if you did, would there really be any more staff left who weren’t already in your group? Activities are good for new people. But how many groups (of girls) all belong to the same sports club these days? Once you’re out of a place of education and all moving in different directions, how do you meet new people that everyone is happy to have there?

routine romance.

I lost something that was very important to me, and then a month later I got it back. And you’d think that would be great. And it is, it really is. I’m happy again. But while I thought it was lost for good, I realised (of course) that life has to go on. And I was fairly good at putting my pain and heartbreak aside and doing just that – getting on with life. In fact, there were even tiny, brief glimpses of hope and anticipation as I realised I was entering a period where things would be new again (albeit these glimpses were always followed by the sadness of my loss). But new is exciting. I miss exciting. I’m a Sagittarius and we are said to be spontaneous. Now, I don’t really think I am, but I’ve always loved the idea of it. I’ve always wanted to be. I want to do exciting things like go bungee jumping. But I don’t want to book and plan it for months. I want to wake up one day and say “let’s do it today”. I want to act out scenes from a movie where they go to the airport, ask for the first available flight and travel to wherever that it. Maybe not quite that scene, as flights in America/Europe are a lot cheaper than within Australia, but you get the idea.  

And on top of this wanted spontaneity, I’m a sucker for romantic gestures. If a boyfriend ever does something to truly upset me, showing up with a written letter and flowers are the way to apologise.  And so, I’ve always loved when spontaneity is combined with romance. A surprise candle-lit dinner, not for an occasion, just ‘cause. A present because he saw it and thought of me. Flowers delivered to work. A cute and sweet text message. Putting on my favourite show to watch even though he hates it. I love it all. Even the smallest gestures can show romance and compassion.

And so, when my lost item (read: boyfriend) came back to me, yes, I was thrilled, but I also realised we would go back to the same relationship like nothing had changed. I’d miss out on the unknown that had awaited me. Now, the unknown is often awful. I’ve made the mistake of trying out a new meal for the first time at a restaurant – it has tasted horrible, I’ve wasted my money and been left hungry. However, when it comes to relationships, the first few unknown months are the most exciting. Boys try to impress girls during this time, so they are extra attentive, sweet, polite, caring. These traits don’t necessarily leave the relationship as it digresses, but I guess both parties get a little slack with it. So, my big issue and the issue I wonder how married couples deal with, is what happens when the excitement wears off? What happens when it turns into comfort? Why don’t boys understand that they should be romantic every now and then for no reason other than they still love you? And most of all, does comfort ultimately lead to boredom, or can it lead to a happy ending in the form of closeness, understanding and being content? What happens when loving someone becomes routine?

where does it go?

So I haven’t posted a blog for quite some time. I also haven’t gone walking in over a week (it was supposed to be an every second day routine that I WOULD STICK TO THIS TIME) and I just returned my ‘how to learn Italian in 10 minutes a day’ c.d. set back to the library, after only getting half way through disc one. There are six discs. All this free time I was supposed to have to be writing, getting fit and learning, has somehow disappeared. I’d say I have some fairly legit reasons for falling behind in all my little holiday activities.

Firstly, it was my birthday last week, so I figure the things that go along with that take up a bit of time and of course my birthday is a day free from anything but relaxing. 

Secondly, I started this blog just after splitting from my boyfriend, on the assumption that not spending time with him would mean I had a lot more time to spend on me. However, after a month of missing each other we decided we are much happier when we’re together, and so now we are again. And naturally things have gone back to me wanting to spend a lot of my time with him. Of course, there’s a lot more I could say on the whole thing, but I’ve gone through it so many times in my own head that I no longer feel the need to vent. So that’s all the information you’ll get on my love life (for now).

And thirdly, my photographer best friend has managed to get me involved with an up and coming photography publication, called Greta Photo Book. It’s quite cool actually – run under the ‘Colosoul’ group which has published one or two magazines and it’s all done by 17 – 25 year olds (aside from the CEO who helps us out of course). So, we’ve been driving to south perth once a week to get the Book up and running. Not only do I get to interview the photographers and have my words published, but I’m also helping with the PR side of things, getting advertisers and promoting the Book. I’m doing both parts of my degree at once! And sure, it’s not for profit so obviously we’re not getting paid, but every time I think about the experience I’m getting, I can’t believe it. Alex (my little photographer friend) and I always used to say we should start our own magazine. She could take the photos. I’ll write and promote. It was always ‘the thing’ and now, somehow, we’ve managed to fall into basically running this whole Greta Photo Book thing. Pretty awesome.

So anyway, all of the above, combined with extra work shifts due to it being Christmas and me working in retail, means there goes a lot of my ‘spare’ time. And I realised that because I don’t have a set time to go walking, it’s not like it’s a gym class or anything, I figure it doesn’t matter when I do it. And because I don’t have a set time to learn Italian, and there’s no one to mark me wrong or tell me off if I don’t do it, it slips down my ‘to do’ list. I’ve realised that even though I complain about being bored on days when I don’t have anything planned, and even though I want to get fit and learn and write, it’s not very often that I’ll feel motivated to do these things. The Italian especially. I think I’m the type of person who needs a set time or deadline for things, otherwise I’ll just put them off. So, maybe I should go off, get out my dairy, and allocate time slots to do these things I keep meaning to do. And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually get them done!