Titian's blog, translated from the Miranda

Ooh lala I'm Titian and all kinds of exciting things are going on in my life. Like the trip. And the ball. And Harry Potter.
Here's a list of reasons why I, Titian, am not going to go study at Christchurch Broadcasting School:

1. Christchurch is the worst city in the entire world. It's cold and it's polluted and there are only awful white people there and loads of boy racers and murders. And there are no mountains, and goddamnit, I want to see mountains again, mountains Gandalf!
2. The kids in Christchurch come up to Auckland to study broadcasting related courses, from which I have deduced that Auckland has better courses.
3. If I went to Christchurch Broadcasting School, that'd like totally suck for Miranda and I always take her feelings into account when making decisions because she does loads of rad things like calling me lots and the valuing of the opinions on everything and always having my best interests at heart.

Therefore, not leaving Auckland, yeah?
And basically, I'm a pretty cool guy and deserve to have all kinds of exciting things going on in my life.

New Last Post

So the car is going. That's good. But now I'm expected to drive dad everywhere. Which is Not Boyz.
Of course I'm exaggerating when I say everywhere, but the fact that I got told off for not waking up an hour early so that I could drive him to work is a bit ridiculous, and it's certainly not selfish.

I'm sure not a Belieber, but I think Beliebism is hilarious. Though it's also worrying when there are crying Beliebers and they are older than me.

We're watchin Where The Wild Things Are in Film Club tomorrow. Mr Larsen and I have arranged FC so that it is worht valid Arts' Points and mertis a group photo at the end of the year. Cool huh?

Um, school remains to be good. It's dumb, because I do well and I have heaps of friends and all my teachers love me. But I always think that perhaps I'm actually not that good at anything. And I've thought about it heaps, and and the mroe I think about it, the more I think it's true. I mean particularly ever since I got this Fancy Locker Room, I mean I can't run, or run fast, or throw a ball, or beat people up in a non-violent way, or play and instrument, I can't speak any other languages, I can't solve equations or draw graphs or find the solution for x, I can't sing, I can't swim, I can't dance, I can't be quiet and normal. What can I do?
I can read the notices. And people laugh at the way I talk. Oh, and I can sometimes be good with words. But this Blog may not agree with me.

I don't want my dad to sleep in Mr Burden's office. I don't want him to sleep in The Sammy Ho Albertian Quad either. Silly Mouth Girl not realising that my dad isn't Frank. It should be fun though. We're hoping to sneak out and play games with torches and hiding and running and such.

Hey computer, do you think that my friends that I've had for ages think I'm rude? I don't mean the ones that are better then the rest. I mean the Dancing, Smoking, Pill-Poppin' ones? Because ever since I made friends that are all way better people than I am I feel like I hang out with them less. And most of the time it's because I'm doing stuff. Like Sheilah Winn, or Film Club, or Theatre Sports, or Production, or Arts Committee, or Ball Committee, or Prefect Meetings, or Stage Challenge, or Glee, or Media Schol, or Art History Schol, or English Schol or meeting with Mr Burden, or meeting with Jacqui, or meeting with Huddlefucky. And only hardly ever is it just because I can't be bothered to walk to them. I don't want them to think I'm rude. Am I being rude? It's hard to be rude, isn't it? I don't know? Do you computer? Why am I asking you anyway? Fux Q.

Aww. Fux Q.

Um. I got drunk once. And I got his ideals gone highway twice. This is unusual. I mean it's already time for my bi-monthly cycle. Oh, I may have got heavenly images generating hell three times actually.

Then there was the scandal where BigTitties Cunty Burger was being rude even though I was upset. But it was okay because even though when you decide not to do relationships for like four years because it's not worth it because you know that, actually, you're really young, and then when you decide to finally start thinking about being into people seriously and you spend ages having the first person who you like-Like-like for your entire adolescence tell you about how great you are and you feeling really happy and then they tell you how much they want you to be with them and then you don't know how to txt back so you just tell them how you feel because that is the nice and proper way to do it, when your together by the pool and under the pagoda, it was okay. Because even though all that happened and then they just got with some other Muscle on the same sofa as you, you still had the good people who chase you up the marble stair case into the pretend Gryffindor Common Room and tell you nice things that make it easier to see because they make you laugh and the "helpless balm of your poor eyes" falls into the bowl of chips your friend on the other side has decided will cheer you up = being into people < friends.

I started thinking about what I would write on people's shirts when the time came for Vivids and Polos and Blouses. It's going to be way easier to tag the clothing of the people you hardly know or will never see again but you always hung out with in Wednesday Third Period because you didn't like anyone else in that class. Yeah. Those guys are going to be the best people ever to write for.

Jacqui McCracky wants me to get Huddle McFucky fired. But Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh jumping up and down shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I thought noone was going to show up to my party. Well, maybe like ten. And none of them would have known each other. And then Calvin may have shown up a bit stoned and vomited in my kitchen, and then my parents would never let me have friends over ever again.

Lucky for me everyone showed up to my party. Maybe even like fifty. And they all had a great time knowing each other. Calvin didn't show up. Two people asked if they could vomit in my toilet. And my parents made everyone breakfast. It was great. And now I'm not too young to be FC's friend. Or at least for a few months.

FC is Film Club and FC Is Fattty Chest. Hahaha.

I'm glad Google Images isn't in charge of the Decoration Committee

Wherefore!

What happened this month?
First there was The Camp. That was really fun. Like the times when Mr Sangster was friendly and normal and would make jokes or nice comments or waterfights or make his wife make us delicious meals. Ms Horne was also lots like the times when she would allow us to bury her in sand or soak her with buckets or join in hte clapping fun games. Then Jack got Aitch-Bee and I was really pleased. But then Nikko didn't and I could tell he was really upset. We had to share a room, Nikko and I, because there wasn't enough room in the rumpus. And it turned out it was like mega important to him because he love his brother and father so much. Which was cool to hear.
Oh, and Candy and Becky, you know that thing I have with the Absence of Shirts? Yeah, well that was real tough to handle when sharing a room with that boy, because he was all lalalaTaylor Lautner, and I was all lalalagetting changed in my sleeping bag.

What else has happened? Oh, I got a car. That's significant.

Oh, and I made a friend whose every action sounds like Something Out of a Romance Novel. Apparently. According to someone.

Then I got bored and went to Claire's. Then I met her man and he was very polite. And they were occassionally intimate and it was weird. And then we took some drugs at a party where there these Indiana Jones Bridges. Oh, and Cawt-knee was there and she kind of annoyed me. I mean I know she loves me, and I know that she's a really good friend, and I love her as a really good friend, but her squeaking is sometimes one pitch too high, and it wearies my patience.
Then there was that famous guy and the drugs made me eat my food too fast and it burnt my mouth and made a fool of myself.
And then the car exploded, why did the car explode computer!?

Oh, and then I read the Arts Notices at aseembly and my head was really bored but my heart was spazzing out like Miranda on Crack at a DHDFDs gig at the Ellen Mellville on her first date with Matt Heath.

And now there is this party that is going to be bad because it will be bad because it will be. I haven't had more than four friends over since I was 10. And now I may have nearly ten times that many and "Oh no, what have I done"

That was one of my lines from Romeo Loves Juliet, O.K? ah, back in the days when Kenzie seemed like the worst that we could get. A happier (by comparison) time.

I think the time when midget, orange-coiffured Obnoxions disguised as camp Elizabethan transexuals was the best time. See


















though age did seem more affective in these times












lahlz it's Becky and she has long hair. And look at Tamsin, she wasn't a person. Really.

"DRAMATIS PERSONýý

Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon:ýý Miles Mason, Kristin McKenzie.
Don John, his bastard brother:ýý Boko Great, Ashlee Gordon.
Claudio, a young lord of Florence:ýý Jamie Lamb, Philippa Emery.
Benedick, a young lord of Padua:ýý Benjamin Walker, Lyubov Miteva.
Leonato, Governor of Messina:ýý Ivan Luketina-Johnston, Aurelie Rivalant.
Antonio, his brother:ýý Jenna Erkkila.
Balthasar, attendant on Don Pedro:ýý Benjamin Sinclair.
Borachio, Follower of Don John:ýý Johathan Fitzpatrick, Albert Walker.
Conrade, follower of Don John:ýý Ellen Winterburn, Morgan Wilson.
Friar Francis:ýý Balamohan Shingade, Claire Thomas.
Dogberry, a Constable:ýý Hannah Kerr.
Verges, a headborough:ýý Samantha Day, Grace Fitzgerald.
A sexton:ýý Oscar Hemingway, Sarah Graham.
A boy:ýý Jacob Mainey, Sarah Graham.
Hero, daughter to Leonato:ýý Samantha Lawson, Chelsea Heap.
Beatrice, niece to Leonato:ýý Georgia Preseton-Jones, David Graham.
Margaret, gentlewoman attending on Hero:ýý Philippa Emery, Jonathan Fitzpatrick.
Ursula, gentlewoman attending on Hero:ýý Sarah Day, Nicholas Frentz.
Musicians:ýý Miranda Emery, Oliver Middleton, Charlotte Smith-Pilling.
Watch:ýý Byron Gibbons, Tammy Hawkes, Danielle Martin, Shannon McNaulty, Oliver Middleton, Rob Nikiel.
Messenger:ýý Chanel Harris.
Attendants:ýý Brynn Armstrong, Brooke Bardell-Munro, Ga Yee (Jessica) Chow, Henry Fa'aofo, Malia Feliuaki Sio, Jamilah Hudson, Lily Hutchinson, Jenny Li, Paige Mason, Rachel Murfitt, Michelle Nathan, Rebecca Reilly, Yasmin Singh, Debbie Van Daalen.

PRODUCTION
Producer/Choreographer:ýý Celia Taparau.
Directors:ýý Tainui Tukiwaho, Gerald Urquhart.
Make Up:ýý Talia Brown, Gracie Fox, Leanne Shaw and members of the cast.
Sets:ýý Theo Van Zyl, Omid Rastkar, Zakirullar Shirwali.
Poster and Programme Design:ýý Carol Yan

Other functions were by the directors and members of the cast."

What does that last part mean?

Pre Bi-Monthly Syndrome

I think what they are to me is what I am to the others. Which is probably how I know that it's quite bad, and that I should do something about it.

I always forget what font I do these things in because my cycle only happens once every eight weeks. I'm pretty sure it's the default font thought, because I don't ever remember changing it before.

Borat is dumb, but then everyone else laughs at what he says and then they say what he says and laugh at their saying it because it sounds like the funny thing that he says. Which secretly aren't actually funny. It's like Seth Rogen but even less intelligent. Because at least Mr Rogen is saying clever-y things, but Mr Baron Cohen says "Penis sex nice!" and then everyone goes "hahahahaha".

So I went to Her house to help the present, and instead we spent three hours looking for her friend's keys. And when I went to buy an icecreams for us from down the road and I came back the doors and curtains were shut and the tv was still on. Then noone was there for half an hour. So I went upstairs to the flat, then I went back down and everything was open but the tv was off. So I went in the computer, and after another ten minutes they came back and didn't answer when I asked where did they go. And then she yelled at me computer. And then they thought I was being rude because I seemed annoyed. Then I couldn't find my glasses and then they laughed and ran into her room and locked the door. I spent half an hour looking for the glasses. They were under the Christmas Tree. And then they both went to dinner and I had to walk home. And then I tried to make plans with Her and she said that I was being frusturating because she didn't understand what I wanted to sort out. Then she said I was being ridiculous for wanting to know how we were getting there, what time we were going, what time we were leaving, and how were getting home at 2am from Town.Then her phone stopped working. So she txted me and she asked me what I wanted and I replied and then she didn't. So now I'm not going and I don't care.

Isn't that strange? This is what I mean by that firs thing I said, one lot of my friends are to me what I am to the other lot of friends. So that's how I know that I'm being a dick and I'm really, really sorry.

I'm 49% Indie and a Movie God, and my life is rated R18.

People I don't know asked me about who I thought was being disloyal on the internet.

My sister has started calling me "dickhead" and "faggot" and then asking if she can borrow ten dollars. I wonder if I was like that three years ago. I sure hope not.

I want to write lyrics to songs that I sing badly, but the humor won't come across if it's just the words. I don't think... I don't know actually. Let's try;

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhwhat you saaaaaaa-aay WHAT did you sayrarara - ra - ah - ah - rama rama-ma ga-ga-ohhlala lollipop you make my heart go giddyup you are as sweet as candy man can who can make the sunshine wooooooooaoooooooah I'm walking on sunshine and it makes me feel good!!"


My blogs don't make sense... or maybe not as much as I imagine they do...

"I'm Sorry Frodo... I was delayed"

That girl being dead is sad.
That other girl being excited to remember me is unexpected.
That other girl calls me "amazing" and "pretty".
That other girl is too caring.
That other girl is Not Sharp.
That other girl's parents are away so she should have a sweet party.
That other girl who I quite like's birthday is tomorrow.
That other girl I am still friends with, despite unhelpful conditions.
That other girl remembered not to bring shorts.
That other girl killed my phone.

This boy wants to get with
This boy who I think got with
This boy who was uninvited and Camp.
This boy made my leg die.
This boy was on drugs.
This boy had chocolate.
This boy had bubbles.
This boy had Roast Beef.
This boy had none.
This boy had a birthday and our family freaked about the six beers in the cooler.

It's nice how a worse photo can mean a better picture;
see here, it's a good photo





















but here I look so much better.




















they're just not the same person.

'Do you know what's funny?'
' "Titian's bi-monthly cycle" '

Skittles and Bandicoots and A Plowman's Lucnh

There was a photo, and it made me think 'she is Heaps Good Looking why is she getting with that Heaps Ugly Guy' and then I was confused becasue Heaps Ugly Guy was never that heaps ugly in my memories of him. The photo also made me wonder why my age is so sporadic in photos, it only adds to the confusion. I was fourteen in the photo, goodness me.

I like it when you discover people have been whinging about you in a Blog. It makes me try harder to stop doing the things that make the Whinging in the first place, because I want people to like me.
I know people tell me to not do the the things directly but I totally don't respond to those, because I have a frequency for uselessness.

I didn't do anything today, but I didn't do the anything at another house, so it was great fun. That's why Rebecca's house is great.

"Eye Gold
Thigh of Blue
True is False
Who is who?
Swirl of gown
Curl of Lip
Ace of Hearts
Face of Clown
Faces!
Drink it in
Drink it up
'till you drown in the light;
But who can name the face?"

The Cool People who's Blogs I read put lots of quotes in their Blogs. I want to be cool, so I am following this trend. These words have been stuck in my head all day.

Miranda is Cross-stitching and Listening to jazz. That is cool.

I love Rebecca. Maybe one day I will write a delirioustiredIhatetheworld Blog of affection for her too.

Parties and Powercuts

That Australian from that Australian Soap Opera that isn't entirely bad was in Transformers, and her accent was undefinable, and therefore unenjoyable. The film had heaps of allusions to sex and drugs and stuff, sometimes they weren't ve nallusions, it was actually jsut the sex and the drugs.
Emily and Sadhanna and Elizabeth were sitting infront of us on one side, and behind us on the toher was Callum, Jorge, Richard and Dali, none of whom I knew were on talking basises with each other.

It is Mieke's 17th tonight. Ruby was invited. I did not like this. Ruby understood. But mother didn't and decided that I was incredibly selfish, so she confiscated my candles. Because the power in our region is ho'ren'dus.

Rebecca called me a TwatFace. Aw. She kind of deserved to, but hardlyReally. So whatever.

Phil made an amusing Donut out of felt and stitching, it looked delicious.

Claire's gift from Rebecca sounded nice, bit I feel bad becasue I feel like I may've been the reason for why she had to use her nails instead of a stick for the glockenspiel.

"The French are upset"