Monday, December 31, 2012

Fin

So this is the end.

End of the year.
End of my high school life.
And end of this blog.

It saddens me deeply to say but I'm saying byebye to my baby lauratoailoa.blogspot.com.

It's not that I want a fresh start... I kinda like being able to store my posts since 2010.

But in about four years time, I want to maybe be a teacher. Idk, it's a possibility. And keeping that possibility in mind, I don't want my future students to be able to keep track of my life and deepest thoughts.

I also don't want my future employers to be able to find me so easily. Laura Toailoa isn't exactly the most anonymous of blog titles.

However, I won't delete this blog - but it shall remain a time capsule of teenage, high school me. I just hope adult me doesn't suffer because of what now-me wrote on this beloved blog.

So, I'm starting up another blog somewhere is the blogosphere and if ya wanna know where, send me an email at lauratoailoa@hotmail.com to ask :) I've met some pretty cool people through this blog and I wanna take you with me... I just wanna leave behind the nosey general public. lol

So yeah, byebye sometimes readers. To my faithful readers, I'm sure you'll get a hand on my new blog so don't fret.

I can't believe I'm really doing this... I've thought about it for a few months and now I'm really properly doing it... woah... change, I can handle you!

Good day :)

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Privilege

I am privileged.

No, I'm not a middle-upper class Caucasian heterosexual male but I have a lot of other privileges.

I'm somewhat of a thinker. I love pondering and musing and questioning. I love thinking about our subconscious behaviour, social constructions, cultural differences, the emotional effects of puberty, the meaning behind the tone of voice, amount of eye contact or choice of words. I love identifying recurring patterns in human behaviour and how often people think they're the exception to the pattern - yet that very thought fits into the mold. I like to think about my countless scenarios of unrequited love and how accurate movies are at depicting real life.

I've devoted many hours to thinking and talking about, writing down and typing up my thoughts. Many many hours. The amount of hours of a privileged person. You see, I've never worked a day in my life. I go to school, stress over schoolwork and go on the internet.

That's privilege number one - not having to work. Both mum and dad work and I got pocket money - something unheard of in my family. I've never earned money I've owned. I'm their daughter and that fact got me money. That's privilege I say. My parents are no billionaires, and yet. So not having to slave away for mula, I've had a lot of free time to myself. I know some people from school who work straight after school and during weekends - a life I've never had to experience. So I was free to think. And think. And think. I didn't have to worry about bills, rent or trying to help out in the family affairs. I was just a free bird. And that's privilege.

Privilege number two - being child number 6 out of 7. Being so far down the line meant I was not the child that responsibility was thrust upon. That was given to my poor older sisters. They looked after me, paid for a lot of my leisure activities and always did chores and stuff like that. I was babied. Even now that I'm technically an adult, I'm still very much their little sister. They look out for me constantly - even when they're living far away. I was never pressured or burdened with major older sister responsibilities. I have one younger sister, but we just hang out and ch-chill. I'm rarely her caregiver like my sisters were, and are, for me.

Privilege number three - internet access at home. This is one many teenagers I know experience, but that does not make a difference. Thanks to the wireless broadband at home, I've been able to spend hours writing and reading other people's philosophical and sociological arguments and observations. Thus, enabling me to develop my own.

There are many many more I'm sure but I'm figuring this post is getting a bit lengthy and extremely babbly. I apologise for that - I feel like it's been ages since I've last posted so I'm just unleashing my fingers to dance around the keyboard as much as possible while I'm at an internet cafe.

I just want to add one last note, I hope I didn't come off braggy or show-offy. That was not my intention at all. I just wanted to credit the fact that something a lot of people compliment me on (which is my ability to make interesting observations, conclusions, comments and ideas) is not due to me alone. I'm not able to devote so much time and energy into it (and trust me, I do) if it wasn't for loads of other factors in and around my life that enable me to live the privileged life I do.

And I'm extremely grateful for it. Thank you God for the immense blessings you provide. Thank you family for raising me to be as well off as I am. Thank you friends who let me spill me cray cray thinking spree on them. Thank you everyone who's ever been part of my life because consiously or subconsiously, you've helped make me who I am today.

Okay, this blog is waaay too long and unstructured and all over the place - I'll try to be better next post. Thank you for reading this far. Thank you reader, for making me feel like my thoughts are valid because you take the time out of your life to peruse through them.

(That was three paragraphs of "one last note". I'm quite bad at this... haha)

Bye for now :)

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

High School

Was nothing like I expected. I dreamed of lockers, cafeterias how fun it must be to have multiple teachers. I dreamed of juicy gossip and loads of drama.

Turns out high school was nothing like Mean Girls, 10 Things I Hate About You and every other American teen movie I've seen. Well, maybe it is in America...

I had zero exciting drama and no lockers. I had friends who I never ever fought with and the teachers weren't out to get me. I was never absolutely hated and not adored by all... pretty average really. I was never "fresh gossip" and most of the time... it never reached my ears so I knew little to none about my fellow peers.

The only thing I seriously stressed, panicked over and lost sleep to was... the schoolwork. Which is weird because that's what the characters I watch NEVER talk about. Or they only mention it slightly but proceed onto to mawling each other faces with saliva... or so, that's what it looks like.

I never felt pressured to drink, smoke or have sex. Some people around me did it, but I always felt like they were merely suggesting it but didn't care if I didn't. Live and let live.

School. Was. Stressful. I worried too much about making my work perfect and whether or not the teacher will approve instead of trying to impress myself with the best I could do.

Just about everyone I met were friendly to me. Those who weren't, were soon forgotten - because I don't remember anybody who was rude or mean but surely not 100% of people I met were nice to me...

I loved nearly all my teachers. I am lucky.

It's been a good five years with LOOOOADS of memories. Many we can look back and laugh at. Thank you all for the good times.

Have fun being adults everyone! :)
"Adult" is not a synonym for boring and does not mean you've got it all figured out.
It just means if you get arrested... you go to real jail.

Goodnight :)

Thursday, November 29, 2012

We Don't Own Celebrities

So one thing on the internet that gets me legitimately enraged is seeing people get angry at celebrities for not being the people they think the famous person should be. They get mad that their idols change, grow up and live their lives. WHAT THE DKSFJCHLDKUCHDKSC! It's just one thing I can't understand. My lack of empathy about this just makes me angry. Lack of understanding tends to do that. Therefore, I allow myself to get angry.

So I was scrolling through Miley Cyrus' Instagram photos and every. single. one. of them had idiotic rude comments - why are people so mean to people they don't know?! WHAT THE FREAK SOCIETY?!?! People are STILL going on about Hannah Montana days... she's 20 people, not 16 anymore. Also, they're devastated about her cutting off her hair. SRSLY?! They're all, "oh... it was better before... why did you go and do that for... FAKE... that's ugly now..." That's mean. Why would you say that to someone you don't know? We. Don't. Know. Her.

We don't any celebrity really. Who we see is not their complete personality - in some cases, it's none of their personality. Sometimes they pretend to be more charismatic and friendly because they need to be. Of course they're smiling at premieres and willing to take photos - they gots to promote their art. They're proud of their work and are glad so many people like it. They're appreciative. They don't love their fans. Well, not the love we're looking for. They're extremely grateful and know they're nothing with us. They love what you do for them, for allowing them to live their dream job and make money off it to be well off. But they don't personally love you for who you are - because they don't know you. And we don't know them. 

And they don't owe us anything. Nothing. They don't dream of being an actors so they can be a role model. They want to act. Musicians want their music to be listened to and loved and maybe understood - they don't want people to follow them around and take photos of their everyday lives. Sure, there are those who welcome that kind of attention - but there are LOADS more who don't. 

Why do we ask these famous artists to be more than artists to us? Why do we demand them to be the best of humanity? Why do we pressure them to be everything we're not? Why do expect explanations and justifications from them for their life choices? These famous people are regarded less and less for their profession and more and more about their relationship status, aesthetics and morality. They are not great philosophers or moral teachers. They're just everyday, sometimes nasty, sometimes selfless, sometimes ugly, sometimes generous, sometimes depressed, sometimes glamourous, sometimes lonely, sometimes everything people. Like us, Yeah they live in more luxury than most of us - but that doesn't mean they're better people. It shouldn't mean they have to be.  

Okay, now that that's out of my system, I'm much more calm.

Good night :)

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

My Soul, Basically

I have so many things I want to say but I don't know what order write them in. Chronologically, in order of coolness, alphabetically, randomly... I don't know whether to dedicate a post for each thing to allow me to elaborate and discuss and clarify or if I want to keep it as raw and ambiguous as possible. I don't know if it's even worth sharing. I just want to write ALL the things.

I want to write about deep issues that our society and myself personally face but I don't want to rush it and not do it justice.

I want to write short anecdotes but I worry it might not be funny.

I want to post something because I hate it when my most recent post is not recent at all. But I don't want to post any old thing because then my most recent post will be crappy and I'll be embarrassed every time I check my blog for comments (which is incredibly frequently).

I have all these fears of not blogging right. I'm always scared someone's gonna tell me I'm not good at it and I should make the world a better place by stopping. I have this immense insecurity that's very irrational. It's like trying to convince that 55kg girl that NO SHE'S NOT FAT. You have logic on your side, but they got crazy. And crazy always wins.

I have this fear but I don't want it to paralyse me. I don't want to become so scared that I stop writing. Because really, I think this is my only real passion in life - writing. Although what I write isn't critically acclaimmed column writing - it has a bit of soul etched in every post. I impart a bit of myself every time I bang this keyboard. Like my tagline (and Mitchie Torres) says, this is real, this is me.

And I know who I am cannot be solely defined in what I write - but there's certainly a chunk of me in here. 

Ooh, I just thought of a blog post about celebrities... time to draft on paper so I minimise the amount of wrong,

Goodnight :)

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Open Letter: Special Someone

Dear special someone, (and no, not that kind of special, so you sisters can just calm down).

I'll rephrase that,

Dear person who is very special even though you don't believe it (I think)

You read my blog more often than I think (even though I always doubt it).
Your friendship means a lot more to me than you think, which may kinda creep you out because we're not like, BFF's or anything but I really appreciate how strong our thread of a bond is.
You're quite intelligent though you protest every time I tell you. You're really smart, and I hope you find a way to use that brain of yours in your future endeavours. Like Einstein said, everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid. You're not stupid. You probably already know that but it doesn't hurt to hear it again, right? :)
You make me laugh - always. Especially when I don't want to - that is a rare gift my friend. I hope you harness it in future. Although, I hope people appreciate your humour as I do. It's a hit and miss quality really, you either love it or you hate it. I certainly love it.
I'm really trying to compliment you without sounding patronising. Please know that I write this as an admirer not as a congratulator standing on higher ground.
I wish we were better friends - and I've had many years of opportunity - but alas, I did not try. I wish I knew you better so my words would have more credibility in your eyes.
I wish I had the bravery to tell this to your face.
But, like I was many years ago, I'm still scared you'd just laugh in my face and reject these words.
So, like the coward I am, I chose the safer road - an ambiguous letter intended for an unknown recipient published for the world to see, hoping you'd find it.

But I hope you know it's for you.

With sincerity,
Tui.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Marijuana Is Not Bad

Marijuana has usefulness - to help people with sucky things in life like multiple sclerosis, alzheimers, breast cancer and HIV. However, for people who don't need it other than to get a fix end up ruining their brains and lives because it's so addictive (so I've heard, I've never tried the stuff). It's expensive and since it's not sold commercially, no one's trying to lower their prices to get the most customers. 

The point is, marijuana itself is not innately bad. It didn't ASK to be used recreationally. No. That was our doing - human tampering that ruined it all. Now it can't be legalised very easily because some awesome people went ahead and spoiled it for the rest of us who might actually need it.

The thing is, no thing, no physical object is innately bad. It's just a tool. Everything God and man made are tools. Things for us to use. It's up to us how "good" or "bad" something CAN be.

Fire is a perfect example of this. It cooks food, provides us with warmth and the early sources of light. Although, it does burn and sometimes burns down houses and cities. But it's not fire's faults or goodness that define it. It's only fair to judge it's "goodness" on a case-by-case basis. Marijuana: use it to increase appetite for HIV patients: good. Use it to feel good because nothing else in your life does: probably not good.

Everything in our lives are tools - it's up to us to give it it's value. Internet to access a worldwide network of knowledge and experiences: good. Using it to find vulnerable children for sexual gratification: not so good.

Sugar - need lot's of energy because you expect to undergo a lot of physical or mental exertion: okay. A third piece of cake: not okay. Unless you just got dumped, then honey, take the whole damn cake. 

The point is, we shouldn't be so quick to categorise things, physical things, into "good" and "bad". Because things are just things. We make them good or bad. We're the problem, not the things.

Goodnight :)

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Hopeful Romantic

Like most other 18 year old girls, I sometimes often think about who my future long term significant other will be and how we'll be and what we'd do blah blah blah cheesy things.

I watch movies and observe couples around me (like a creepy stalker) and make mental notes of what I want that other people have and things I definitely don't want at all. I think about decisions I would and would not make. I see grand public gestures and private intimate moments and have decided I want lots of both.

I think of the hugs and the kisses and the (SLOW) strolls on the beach (of Samoa hopefully) and of the DVD nights of closeness and popcorn, I think of the dressing up and going out dancing, I think of spontaneous outings that was prepared (so it'll only be spontaneous for me. haha) which would surprise me mostly because I'd think he's so useless at planning and preparation and the fact that he tried extra hard to pull it off would be admirable. 

But most of all, I think about the long winded conversations about philosophy and sociology and why things are. I think about how he'd challenge my ideas and rebut things I'm so sure of. I think of how we'd better each other; we'd speak our mind about every issue and unlike annoying internet people, we'd be open-minded and ALWAYS be willing to hear the other side out - whether it be about abortion, sexuality or whether smooth or crunchy peanut butter is better (smooth, of course). 

But I do think that there's someone out there that will crush my predetermined list of ideals with their overpowering awesomeness. Best case scenario.

But lastly, I think about how I need to be thinking about my biology exam coming up on Tuesday.
Ia, uma i ga lou fia kaukalaikiki ae alu fai sou meaoga. Okay.

Shawty




I - individualistic. you are unapoligetically you. you do what you believe in. pretty admirable esp cos we're like teens - at the peak of our conformity-ness-ish-stage.

M - meticulous. everything you care about is paid the closest attention to ensure it happens as right as possible. you care a lot. it's funny, cute and OTT most of the time - but it's cool. somebody's got to be.

M - merriment. we always have good, big, laughs that give us sore bellies, red faces and leave us gasping for air. good, good times. very good. good. good.

Y - yolo. cos we beez so yolo up in hurr wit all our drinking and partaaaaaying.



so like, haaaaaapy burfday Immy! :)

Monday, October 29, 2012

Adulthood, Miscommunication, Ideas

My urge to write occurs spontaeneously - and it rarely hits when I'm sitting at a computer. Thus, I feel less and less inspired to write blog posts. However, when it DOES hit, I write it down on a piece of paper or type it on my phone for reference for when I DO come to a computer. I shall type them out for you :)

Adulthood
When I was a little girl, I always wanted thought adults were these divine beings that knew everything there was to know and did everything right. They never cried cos they're never scared or sad about anything. They were perfect. I was so excited to grow up because I couldn't for the day to leave behind my peasant childhood cloak and bask in glorious adulthood or perfection and money. So it turns out that's not actually the reality of it all. They're imperfect creatures who are still finding their feet day to day. Damn. So I've learnt that be a noun-grownup, you have to verb-grow-up. Adulthood is not something that happens to you, it's something that happens with you.

Less Is More
Something I strive to minimise in my life is miscommunication. Thus, I have this tendency to try and explain myself - all. the. time. I aim to ensure the other person understands as much as possible about what I try to say. I hate hate hate watching movies where things go wrong because there was miscommunication or fail to deliver a message then everything gets blown out of proportion (frickin Romeo and Juliet). So I talk and talk and talk until I've exhausted my message with clarification. But more often than not, my act of service is met with awkwardness rather than appreciation. They find it amusing rather than helpful. So maybe I should just back of a little, maybe less is more.

Talking
When I have ideas mulling around my head, I always want someone there with me so I can discuss said ideas and bounce off each other so my ideas develop, evolve, alter or comfirmed. But my two situations usually are: a) there's no one around so I just write it on here with no second opinion and b) my ideas just get met with looks because it's not something anyone else cares about. This makes me feel a) supreior and b) lonely - both of which I know in my head is not true but it's what I feel in my heart.

And those are some of the contents of my notebook of thoughts.
Till next time,
don't forget to be awesome.