What to do?

Not pretty.
Not smart.
Not talented.
Not important.

Blackout.

during ballet.













Dancing by torchlight.

Emotionally retarded.

Why can't I tell her how much she means to me when it matters most?

She was upset and sharing with me and I couldn't even speak. I guess I am just too in tune with her emotions. I knew that if I had've said something heartfelt I would have burst in to tears. Why do I have to stay strong in front of her, instead of crying with her, comforting her?

You're the strong daughter who can take anything, right? If you cry it means you're scared. But why can't you just tell her what she means to you?! To make her feel better. JUST TELL HER! It's easy. "I love you Mum. You'll always be my number one no matter what. I'm always here."




Why are you such a retard when it comes to emotions Jayce?

YOU CREEPY STALKER!

You know who you are.

It all comes down to food.

I've mastered the art of being silent in the kitchen. It's funny how often the skill comes in handy really. From late night Camembert hunts to early morning porridge routines, I have to be so quiet as to not wake the parentals. The key is to do everything really slowly and with lots of pressure from your hands. I find that closing the fridge with two hands is a treat. Whoever decided to magnetize the fridge is my hero. But to you who designed the cutlery drawer; I hate you but beat you.

Talking To A Stranger

I was just going to post some screenshots, but the whole clip is so great.



And it's Australian.

WHORE

and thus, she was.

Wow, watch me:

Last Day Dream [HD] from Chris Milk on Vimeo.

I need a holiday.

What's that I hear you say, oh non-existent blog reader, "You're on holidays already you silly girl!"?

Hey now, don't be so quick to jump to conclusions my friend. My one week of "holidays" consists of:

Budgeting.
Superhero-ing.
Assignmenting.
Essaying.
Organising.
Rehearsing.
Budgeting.
Scheduling.
Driving.
Calling.
Budgeting.
Costuming.
Props-ing.
Filming.
Maybe killing myself a little over this budget?

Yay for uni every day.

...

P.S. I hate facebook.

Practice shoot.

I've had some real high-lights and low-lights in the last month or so. I'm a poor, stressed out, alcoholically inclined uni student/dancer/actor.

I cried a lot last week.
I laughed a lot the week before.

Here are a couple of photos from the abundance that Dan (our continuity bitch) took during our practice shoot: