If you were me, you might get the idea that wild animals kind of hate my guts.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

The way I see it, there are three types of blogs.

1. The Diary Style. Normally daily, just titbits of the authors life. To tell you the truth, it only really works if you have an interesting and awe-inspiring life. Which sadly, I do not. It would mostly involve a lot of complaining about assignments, some stuff about the weather and many mentions of chocolate.

2. The Comment Style. Commenting on current stuff, mostly celebrities, movies, etc. All well and good, but what happens if you don't have a strong opinion on something? What happens if you are interested to see New Moon, but aren't queueing up for the midnight session? Or, yeah, Miley Cyrus pisses you off, but you kind of like her songs?

 3. The Funny Style. Just plain hilarity. Completely random things that make you laugh. The last, and possibly the hardest, blog. 'Cos basically, you just need to be freaking funny. Which again, I am not.

And then there's me. Hm. Random writing that I'm not even sure people actually read (although I do have four followers - thankyou so much guys, I think you may be clinically insane, but thankyou!) and I have constant arguments in my head about actually writing. (No, seriously, you think those two little people on your shoulders doesn't actually happen, I have news for you.) (It does.)

I think I've proved my point by writing a blog about writing other blogs. Makes sense, right?

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

One day, the Pope is visiting America and driving around Washington in his limo when he gets an idea. "Driver? Can I drive for a while?"
"Sure," says the driver. How can you say no to the Pope?
So the Pope takes the wheel and starts driving like a maniac all around Washington -- dodging in and out of traffic, going eighty, cutting people off.
Soon, a cop pulls him over. But when the Pope rolls down the window, the cop stops dead in his tracks, and goes back to the car.
"We got somebody really important here," he says to his partner.
"Who is it? Is it a senator?"
"No. More important."
"The president?"
"No. More important."
"An ambassador? Who?"
"I don't know. But the Pope is his driver."

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

I feel like writing a list. I have an inherrent love of lists, as you've heard before. But I haven't really sat down to a good list in a very long time. Sure, there's been a few to do's (currently very large so I probably shouldn't be sitting here writing this) but no good, hearty lists. So now I will attempt one.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

I realise I have no right to sit here and write another blog. I have abandoned you for far too long to ever show my face in this town again. I am an outcast, a shunned, an 'omg, what is she doing here?'

But I must get down on bended knee and beg for your forgiveness. I have no excuse; no dog has mutilated me, no guy crushed my heart, no assignment kept me in my room for weeks. Hell, I've been on holidays for a week now! I am going to be blatantly honest with you - I, Miss Moi, ran out of things to say. There, it's out. I can't take it back now. I know you never thought it could be true, but alas, it is. I know it's spinning your world off it's axis but they are no other reasons. I simply had nothing to talk about.

Here's where you get rewarded for coming back and reading this - I now do! I went off for three long weeks and searched for things to say, for the meaning of life and all that jazz. And now I'm back and I'm going to do the only thing I know how - I'm going to blog about it. Don't expect daily monologues, just some good old-fashioned blogging. It's going to be a bit less impersonal and you may actually find out somethings about me (shock, horror). Thankyou for weathering out the storm. You shall be rewarded.

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Write down your deepest fears, tear them up and put them in the bin.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Make a mess and clean it up.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.
-Anonymous

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

I was worried, to say the least, to hear about the two American journalists, Laura Ling and Euna Lee, who have been sentenced to two years hard labour for committing a 'grave crime'. After the April nuclear tests in North Korea, I seriously worry about what going to happen next.

This is no laughing matter, but seriously, North Korea has now threatened to test-launch a new, more advanced missile if the UN doesn't apologise for condemning their April launch. Hm, that sounds really logical to me *sarcasticness emanating off*. And come on Hillary - saying that your considering putting North Korea back on the list of 'Countries Who Support Terrorism'? Oh, I'm sure it's got them quaking in their boots, and sending your journalists right on home.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend I have any clue about anything to do with politics or this situation, because let's be serious here. I'm a 14 year old girl sitting at a computer on the other side of the country. I wouldn't have a clue about how any of this works. But it seems to me (and please dont judge me if I sound naive) that the US treads a fine line between doing just about nothing and meddling way beyond what they should. I mean, it's my understanding that a US ship docks in Fremantle each year that 'will not be confirmed' whether it has nuclear substances on it or not. And of course Australia sits here like the little kid we are while the big bully knocks us round a bit and tells us to shut up. America has meddled in hundreds of countries, including our own (need I remind you of WW2) and yet can I seriously sit here and say that we could have done without that? No. Sure, they nuclear bombed the hell out of Japan, absolutely devastating entire regions, but at the end of the day we most likely would have lost the war without them. It's that horrible fine line of something you're totally against, and something you can't live without. Please leave me a message telling me if I'm completely wrong or your thoughts. To tell you the truth, I'm a bit short on material, so what better way to get people talking than write about politics ;).

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Tupperware is possibly the best invention created by man.

I mean, let's be serious about this. Sure, the lightbulb is great and electricity is pretty handy, but at the end of the day would you prefer to have a lamp or a container that fits five smaller containers in it? Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean, how much quick would Thomas Edison have been able to create the lightbulb if only he had had an organised kitchen. We can only imagine...

I still remember when the tupperware craze hit all those years ago and everyone was cracking jokes about women meeting up to discuss plastic containers (the infamous 'Tupperware Party') to hide the fact that their cupboards stocked a seperate tupperware container for each different ingredient. And one for their lunch. And dinner. And pet food. And dead hair. Or maybe that was just me...

We moved house around the time that tupperware hit, so Mum took it upon herself to kit us up with a whole new set of kitchen utensils and containers, and continued to spend a good five hours organising our entire pantry. Each container had a different label, each type of ingredient had a specific colour and every thing had a place. The amazing organisation blew our tiny minds, and sent my brother into an episode of shock. It all lasted about a week. The coconut got mixed with the self raising flour, the brown sugar with the white and the bread crumbs with the baking powder. Basically, complete and utter chaos. I suppose the moral of this story is that tupperware is amazing, and at times I think perhaps supernatural, but there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that can organise our pantry. I attempted to do an excavation some years ago, but had to abort when I found an ulterior lifeform growing in a jar of chutney that went off in 2003 (our current record). I expect the guys from Evolution to arrive any day now.

I guess the attraction of tupperware is its, well, handyness. The quirky simple that has made many businesses successful - Smiggle, for example. Then again, maybe it's just the fact that it's freaking awesome. Hm.

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Let me set the scene for you - I sit eating my sandwich one cloudly day, just minding my own business and, let me note, not bothering any member of the wasp family. Suddenly a scream rips through my peaceful existence and my friend stares in horror at the beast sitting on my head. What ensues, I do not wish to impart on my dear readers, but let it be known that horrors witnessed that day will haunt me for the rest of my life. The aftermath paints enough of a picture - myself, gripping a wall for support and struggling for breath, my saviour, screaming in the corner and two innocent bystanders on the other side of the path, attempting to comprehend what has just happened. No, this isn't some old 80's horror flick, this is real life. This is a wasp.

It might seem like I'm overreacting to the unintiated, but to those among you who have experienced such an attack, only you can truly understand.

So, where does my insane fear come from? I see myself as a pretty level-headed person, but I end up screaming and running around like a headless chook at even the thought of wasps, bees, cockroaches or basically insects in generally. But, if I think about it, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I mean, humans are scientifically acknowledged as the most dangerous predators on Earth and a wasp doesn't even make the top ten. So what am I really scared of? Is it the sting the wasp can give me? Sure, it stings a bit, but not that much and I can inflict a lot more damage on it - just by stinging me it's now dead. Maybe I'm afraid of fear itself? Hold on now, I think I'm getting a little too big for my boots (leather, mid-calf, to die for) here. I guess my point is that sometimes we can be scared of the stupidest things, and if you just step back and look at it, it ain't that bad after all - but there are times where fear is really good and really necessary. Each year more people die from bee stings than all other venomous animals combined, and you're more likely to be killed by a cow than a shark. So maybe I'm not crazy after all.

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Just a quick blog for all The Sims fans out there - the third installment is released down here on June 4th! With even more flexibility and customization, I can't wait for it to come. According to it's website, The Sims 3 allows "new realistic personalities.. every Sim is now a truly unique person, with a distinct personality". Even better than meeting real people! See the trailer at thesims3.ea.com and you can preorder at ebgames.com.au, but it will set you back 100 big ones - not suprising compared with the ridiculous prices of the originals.
I am a self-confessed Sims addict, and have spent too many hours to count playing this totally addictive game. A fan since it's early years (so many eons ago), I've bought a steady flow of all the new additions (I swear I've kept there business afloat!). But I'm not entirely sure whether I'll buy this one yet - I've found The Sims has the unsavoury quality of sucking away my time and leaving me with nothing to show for it (apart from a pretty impressive family tree). And I've often become frustrated with the (very effective) marketing strategy of adding key elements - that you have to buy another game and spend $50 for. It ends up costing more for my Sim to have pets and parties than for the game itself. I say all this, but I know in my heart that I'll be the one queueing up at the crack of dawn to have the first copy... Ah, my sole weakness...

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Everyone has had at least one bad haircut, so you know the feeling that your entire world is collapsing because you share some uncanny resemblances to a poodle.

I have been lucky enough to have had very little bad haircuts, a part from a few manic streaks that, instead of disappearing, turned a weird shade of orange. But this all changed when I decided to get a ‘quick trim’ while getting my hair straightened at the hairdressers. I’ll let you in on a little secret about my hair; there is no ‘quick trim’. As much as I love my hair, there is so much of it that it often blows out to insane proportions and I wonder how I manage to hold my head up with so much weight on it. The poor hairdresser looked at it with obvious terror in her eyes, but bravely set to work. I told her I normally have a side fringe type thing (really just a cowlick gone wrong), and she swept it all to side. This whole fiasco is really my fault, because it is at this point that I should’ve stepped in and said something, but instead I quietly nodded as she snipped along this line. She then asked me to style my hair as I normally would, and in doing so I saw with great terror the small tuft of hair popping up. I’ll be the first to admit it, I am an extremely dramatic person and I had to fight hard to hold back tears as she tried to flatten, spray and eventually just chop at this horrible mess. After smiling my way out of the shop, I sat in tears on my bed and refused to speak to anyone, mourning the loss of my perfect hair and devising ways to avoid being seen with it. Running away and joining the circus crossed my mind. I could be part of their freak show, "The Girl with the Demented Hair".

After a few hours of private contemplation, I realised I might have slightly been overreacting. It was nothing some careful handy work with a straightening iron and a can of hair spray couldn‘t fix - but people don’t seem to realise the great importance hair is to us. Celebrities and everyday people alike spend hundreds of dollars to get the perfectly ‘natural’ hair. There are scientific methods to do just about anything to your hair, from making it straight to curly, long to short, frizzy to smooth, and everything in between. But there is one thing that can’t be changed - the fateful snip snip of the scissors and the disgusting mess you’re left with. Oh well, maybe poodle’s coming back in.

xx Miss Moi

• 
• 
• 
• 
•