Random Stories is baaaackk!

Hey world!!

Random Stories is… back!!! (With a new look too! What d’ya think?!)

You’ve probably forgotten who I am… maybe so have I! So lets take a little walk down memory lane.

  • First… wanna know what I said when I first started this blog? Well, then read  my very first ever post.
  • Want to know why I wrote that? Well.. Read: ABOUT
  • Want to catch up on stories? Well, that’s an easy one.. go here: STORIES

Now that we’re all caught up. HELLO!!! Welcome back. Or… Me, welcome back me! I’m going to pick up where I left off, and start telling you lots, and lots, and lots, of Random stories…. From me… The girl you don’t know 🙂

So make sure you follow – You don’t want to miss out on all the adventures! 🙂

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Not Allowed to watch TV!!

When I was five, my mum, brother and I went to New Zealand. We had friends who had moved there, who we were going to stay with for a few months. 
There are so many stories I could tell you of our time there, but the part I want to tell you about, was when I went to school.

My brother and I were enrolled in a school in Parmistan north, for; I think a month of our stay. 
I was so excited to be going to a new school… a “regular” school, is what I called it (As back home I was at Steiner school – which, for those of you who don’t know.. is a whole different kind of education, look it up, Waldorf Steiner! – plus, at 5, I still hadn’t gone up to the big school, but here, I was in the big school with the big kids!)
Anyway, I was so excited, I felt like it was the most exciting thing ever to happen to me, I was looking forward to meeting new people, learning new things.. And getting homework! (Keep in mind I was 5!)
That morning, I woke up early, with butterflies in my stomach, I jumped out of bed and put on my beautiful, Lime green (yes, I did say Lime green.. just remember it was in the early 90’s) dress that Mum and I had selected days before, and ran into the kitchen. I sat at the table, eating my cereal; talking non-stop about the things I thought I would learn that day.

On the drive to school, suddenly the excitement began to turn into fear, what if none of the girls liked me? What if they all thought I was weird because I had an accent? (Little did I know at this point, that being the girl with the accent was going to become such a huge part of my life later on!) What if they thought I was dumb? I tried so hard to push these fears away, but they just grew and grew, as we got closer.
Pulling up to the school, my brother jumped out the car and ran into school with the boys he already knew from his class.

“I don’t want to go anymore mummy”  I said, looking out at the big scary building.
“Come on, I’ll take you to your class, you’ll be fine once you’re in there and meet some of the other girls”

I took my mums hand, as she lead me into the building that looked like a giant monster in front of me, we went and registered, and found out what class I would be in, and then my mum had to leave.

I was taken by the head mistress, as we walked down the long, seemingly never-ending but at the same time, nowhere near long enough, hallway to the classroom at the end. When we opened the door and I stepped inside, the entire class stared. I was introduced to my teacher, who then introduced me to the entire class. I couldn’t speak, I could barely even breathe, I just wanted to hide at the back of the room. Then, as my eyes quickly, shyly scanned the room – I saw her. Emma was her name. Her blonde ringlets hanging down to her shoulders, big blue eyes glistening up at me. She smiled. I knew, right then, this was the girl I had to be friends with. Obviously the most popular girl in the class, and definitely the most beautiful.

I was shown to a seat, just behind her. I tried to smile at her as I walked past, but it may have looked more like I had a twitch.

To be honest the next, middle part of my first day is quite a blur, I don’t really know what class we had, if I spoke to anyone,.. All I know is I had been waiting for a moment where I could speak to Emma, a perfect opportunity where I could become her new best friend, and I was about to be given that chance.. Or so I thought.

It was the class after lunch, we were all told to line up in the hallway, and that we were going to have a treat. We were going to get to watch a movie on Turtles! There was so much excitement bubbling around, people pushing in line to get to the front so they could get the best seat, chatter about who will sit next to who.

All I did was watch Emma, making sure I didn’t miss a single move, I was going to make sure, whatever happened that I ended up next to that girl.

The teacher finally got us all standing neatly in line, and we were about head into the movie room, when she asked if there was anyone who was not allowed to watch TV. I wasn’t really listening to what she said; I just saw Emma’s hand shoot up in the air, so mine followed.

“Ok, whoever is not allowed to watch the movie, will be the game room”

A huge smile spread across my face, I was going to get to spend time with JUST Emma, – not just sit next to her in a movie – but play games, just me and her! There’s no way at the end of this we wont be best friends!
Then I heard some giggling, and I looked around and saw that my hand was the only one up. The teacher began to walk over to me; she crouched down, so she was at my height.

“Ok, you’re the only one I think, are you sure you’re not allowed?”

At this point, I could have got out of it; I realized that Emma had only put her hand up as a joke. But if I then said, “Oh, no I am allowed to, I was just kidding” what would everyone think of me? They’d think I was a liar. I was a liar, I was lying that I couldn’t watch it, but if I say I was lying, they’d know I was a liar, and that would be even worse!!

My head began to nod, I looked down at the floor, my stomach turned, and my eyes began to burn. I swallowed back all the tears, and started to follow my teacher as she led me away from everyone else.
 We walked through the TV room, through a long, gloomy corridor, into the back room.

Inside, was a chair, in the centre, and a box full of toys on one side. It was like a prison, but for a five-year old. I looked around, and then looked back up at my teacher, with longing eyes. “Please don’t leave me in here” I wanted to say, but couldn’t speak, for fear that all the tears I had swallowed would all come tumbling out at once.

“Someone will come and get you when we’re done Ok? There are toys in the box, this door will lock as I leave, so if you need anything, just bang on it and someone we’ll hear Ok?”

I nodded, and looked down at the floor.
I watched her feet as she walked out the room, then felt a smash against my heart as the door shut tight.
I looked around my prison.
“This is what I get for wanting to be friends with the popular girl,”  I thought.

I looked up at the door; it was a big, strong wooden door, with a small window high up. I wasn’t tall enough to see out of it, but I could see the light from the corridor.

The tears began to spill down my face, at this point I didn’t even begin to try to stop them, the current was too strong.
I sat down on the floor, and watched the wet spot begin to grow as my tears pool-ed on the carpet.
Once the tears ran out, and my throat was sore from holding in the big sobs, I wiped my eyes, and decided I might as well make good use of the time. The best use of it I could think, was to use it to imagine what would have happened if I had been in the other room. So, I curled up in the corner, and began to live my imaginary life.

I was sitting in that dark room, the movie was playing, Emma was beside me. We laughed at the same things, we covered our mouth in shock at the same moments, we grabbed for each-others hands at the scary part.

As the movie was coming to an end, Emma leaned over to me and whispered in my ear “Will you be my best friend?”
I turned to her, and smiled, I was so happy, it finally happened. I was going to best friend with the post popular, most beautiful girl at my new school. I nodded and she grinned back at me.

I don’t know how much time passed, but I know my mind was very vivid as a child, and I could sit for a very long time, living my imaginary life.

But when the light in the hallway was switched off and all I could see was blackness out the little square window at the top of the door,.. I knew something was wrong. I had been forgotten.

I stood up, my body being overtaken by fear. I started to shake. Tears started to build up again like a huge wave being formed out in the middle of the ocean, knowing it will soon crash on the shore. I dragged the chair over to the door and stood on it. The only thing I could see, was at the very end of the long, black hallway, was a little light. The light at the end of the tunnel.
“That must mean someone is still in the school. I wont be here forever” 

A tiny glimpse of hope rose in me.

I jumped down from the chair, and began pacing the room.

I walked back and forth, back and forth. I started walking in patterns, imagining my feet were leaving a trail of glitter behind me. Until the room was totally full of sparkles. And then I would mix them all up and blow them around, so that they were floating all around me in the air.

Finally, after all I could see was the thick ocean of glitter filling up the entire room, and in front of my eyes was a foggy layer of tear glasses, the light flicked back on through the door. And then, the door opened…….

I stood still, scared to move, just in case it wasn’t my teacher, but a big scary monster.
It wasn’t, it was my slightly frazzled teacher, who rushed in and ran over to me.

“I’m so sorry, come on, you’re mum’s waiting”

My mum? Did they call my mum? Did they find out I lied and called her in to kick me out of school?  I didn’t’ say anything, I just followed her back to the classroom, with my head hanging low.

As we entered the main hallway, I realized my why mum would be there.. It wasn’t because she was called in. It was the end of the day.

I had been forgotten. I had been totally forgotten, for the entire afternoon.

When I saw my mum, I ran into her arms. She hugged me, said goodbye to the teacher, took my hand and we walked out to the car, in silence.

When she buckled me in, and went around to the driver’s seat, mum looked at me, and said,

“Why did you say you weren’t allowed to watch TV?”

I looked at my mum, thinking of all the reasons I could say, the truth, or I had a headache, or I was scared, there were so many options.

I looked back up at the school, watching as other girls and boys ran out to meet their parents, laughing, shouting goodbye to all their friends. Smiles on every one of their faces.

“Because we don’t have a TV at home”

My mum nodded, it was true, and that was a good enough answer. She didn’t need to know it was all to become friends with the five-year-old prom queen.

And that, right there –  was my first day at a New Zealand “regular” school
And, my very last.

Dance amongst the stars

I used to fly away every night. Fly to the moon, and dance among the stars.

Fly to the clouds, and bounce between rain drops.

Each morning, I woke up tired from my nighttime adventures. Full of stories, and memories, to share with my family. I knew people’s wishes, knew their dreams and desires. The fairy’s would tell me, and I knew it was my job to help them come true!

I believed I flew through the night. I mean, I really, really believed. Not like, I said I did it, made up stories, but knew I didn’t really. The details that I knew were amazing, I could describe the feeling. How it felt to begin to lift off the ground, feeling completely weightless as I began to rise into the sky. The feel of the wind below me, above me, all around me. Cradling me – carrying me along. Darkness is different in the sky, at night. It’s not scary, its peaceful. Its thick. It’s all around. But its dotted with the brightest lights you could ever imagine. As I got closer to each star, I could see it’s shape. Feel its texture. I could go to the sun, If I was with sun fairies. I could move far far through the darkness of the nights sky, around the world to the other side, where the bright sun was glowing, burning, pumping out its heat. I felt the warmth on my face as I got close. I couldn’t see anything but brightness.

I could stay close to earth, and float past other children’s windows, seeing them dream. I would hear whispers as I passed each one. What they were dreaming, what they were afraid of, what they wished for.

I believed this so much, that one day, after my brother had been teasing me, telling me it wasn’t true I decided I just had to prove it.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, I had never flown in public before. But I knew I somehow had to prove I was telling the truth.

So that afternoon, when we got home from school, my brother and I were in the kitchen making sandwiches.

As he buttered the bread at the counter, I pulled a chair out, climbed up, and stood on the table. I was only little, so this was pretty high for me. We had this huge, solid wood table, in our kitchen and the floor was red linoleum.

I looked down at the ground – and I got a little scared at this point. I was trusting entirely on the fairy’s catching me. The floor was hard – I didn’t want to land on it! I wasn’t too sure on the rules they had for people who flew with them at night, deciding they want to show off their flying abilities. I was a bit nervous they would disown me after this. But I had to try something. I wanted to prove it was real – And I wanted to make my brother believe. I wanted to share the amazing world with him – I wanted him to be a part of my fairy life, and he couldn’t be if he didn’t believe!

I took some deep breaths, crossed my fingers and said loudly,

Look look I’m going to prove it to you, I’m going to fly!”

As he turned around to see what I was doing, I closed my eyes tightly, scrunching them as shut as they could possibly be. And went for it.

I jumped, off the table. I went. Eyes still tightly shut. I felt the air beneath me. My feet were not on solid ground. Was I flying?

Thud.

I collapsed on the floor. I slowly opened my eyes, looked up to see my brother smiling down at me. I looked around, and up, to see how far I had gone.

It was actually only about 2 feet. I wasn’t even hurt.

I felt my eye’s begin to fill with tears. Why hadn’t it worked?

I knew, knew knew, that at night, I did fly. I flew amongst the stars. So why wasn’t it working now? Why couldn’t I show my brother, prove it was real.

As the tears started to fall down my face, my brother turned to leave the room. He hadn’t said anything else, I guess he knew if he said any more I’d probably continue to try, and he didn’t want me to hurt myself.

Then it hit me.

it only works in the dark. It has to be night. Its night fairy’s that take me flying, not the daytime ones!!”

He looked around at me as I said this, and kind of smiled, then left the room.

I think there were other times I tried to prove this.. I know sometimes I hurt myself, sometimes I didn’t. I wanted so bad for people to be able to share in the amazingness of being able to fly.

I guess they didn’t really need to see it – all they really needed to do, was go back to that childhood imagination, and belief, that so many people shut off so young. But I kept it going, kept it alive. I’d like to think I still have it, still have child like faith, and imagination – in different way’s.. I don’t fly every night now. But I can imagine. I can remember the feeling. I can shut my eyes, and go back to my 7-year-old mind, and fly through the air, and dance among the stars.

Leave the soap – Part 2.

Welcome back! 🙂

First – read part 1

(Or this will seem even more random than it is!)

So as you can see – things were slightly awkward in the first few minutes of being in this room with mr crazyo. But it had only just begun.
I got dressed, (In the bathroom)  and went back into the room…. This is where he started with his war theory. I sat, for 10 minutes, staring at him as he moved around the room, explaining his theory of 40 million people dying. His hair flying manically around his face, his arm twitching and his little, crazy, laugh slipping out as he said something he really enjoyed like

“Only survivor”

“Everyone you’ve ever known killed!”

I didn’t know what to do. I  kinda started to laugh when he finished.

What did he expect me to take from that? So awkward!!

Then he picked up his camera, thought for a minute – put it back down, and then he showed me where I could move.
He had no lights – so, I had one corner of the couch that I could sit in – that happened to be the one corner of the room with a low lit lamp on the wall. I had to bend, to make sure my face was under it. But not just bend – like, tilt my head to one side, half laying down, but propping myself up because he wanted it to just look like I was siting… and – do all that while looking like I’m just casually sitting comfortably on a chair.
But then……

“Your happy, your sad, your frightened, your surprised, your scared, petrified, joyful, mysterious, curious, angry, loving, sorrow-full, disappointed nervous, hurt, sick, excited, and shameful.”

He picked up his camera again.

“Oh, all at once?”

Camera went down, his bouncing around the room, Flinging hair, and swaying arms started again. The excitement – or exasperation – or – just full on randomness – rose in his voice. He was louder, slightly squeakier, and suddenly much more pronounced!

“Yes, yes, all at once. You’re an actor, I am testing you, show me what you can do”

“OK”

So, I started again.

“No, No No, Too many photographers focus on your face, why do all  photographers you work with want pictures of your face?! I want to destroy art. But that, in itself is art too! I want you to show all these emotions, all at once, but not showing your face, show them to me, with your body – maybe even just a finger!”

I really couldn’t help but laugh. Bob here was officially crazy. I posed, I moved, I fell on the floor, (When I did that he loved it!) he asked L to smudge my make up, we made me look as ugly as possible. The more ragged, scraggly, awkward I looked, the happier he got. Not awkward in the, yeah cool this is great high fashion, awkward. More like, awkward looking after the longest  night of your life, no sleep same clothes for day’s – not brushing your hair, getting beaten up in a dark alley, crying your eyes out –  and then dragged through a bush and a garbage heap –  to a photo shoot – and put in front of the camera –  awkward.

So, after an hour and a half of all this crazy-ness, including some Shower shots (No, I didn’t take my clothes off.. I was fully dressed, standing in the shower, with no water running, holding a cell phone… Not quite sure what his vision was there, maybe he thought I’d start to strip once I got in the mood!?!?) 
It was time to go… so we had to take off the disaster he had made us make on my face. L asked him if we could use the products the hotel provide by the sink (soap, shampoo, moisturizer, etc.. at this hotel it was Kiss my face products!)
Bob shouted from the other room.

“Yes, feel free, take all that stuff from the bathroom, I’m leaving right now so need nothing!”

So we did.. We used stuff.. And took the rest.

After another bit of confusion, trying to understand the crazy scientists theory that because we didn’t do the army part of the shoot, he should pay me less than we had agreed on.(I don’t think so, Mr crazy!) And having to have my ID photographed, and my voice recorded on  his cell phone, saying I sign a release to the pictures (He had decided to take the whole “Paperless” thing very serious!)  Finally,  we left, picked up the car from the valet, and watching some interesting characters leave the hotel and bar, we drove away… quickly!
10 minutes later, I get a text message from  Mr Bob,

“You could have at least left the soap!”

Uh…. What? I was confused and reminded him that merely 20 minutes before he told us to take it all. (Although the soap – the tiny bar of soap, was actuuually the one thing we didn’t take, but had to use while we were there, and I guess the mess he made of my face needed to use the whole thing to scrub it all off!)
He then went into denying he said anything (Although we both heard it) and emailing texting and calling – basically just being a crazy person – and ending them all with:

“You took the soap!”

I was a little shaken up by it, it was after all, my first experience of a Hollywood photographer. However, I also found it pretty funny. L and I had a LOT of laughs that night, and ever since, about Crazy Bob and his flying hair.

But the bottom line is this girls and guy’s – according to Mr Bob, the lesson to learn is… when going to a photo shoot in a hotel, and the photographer say’s take what you want…

Always leave the soap!

Leave the soap! – Part 1

Random Stories… From  a girl you don’t know.

There’s been a war. The 3rd world war. A bigger war than anyone has ever lived, imagined, or dreamed before.

40 million people have died, others, merely vanished.
 You, well, YOU are the only survivor. Here you are, sitting on a couch – alone. You know that everyone you have ever met is dead……. And you’re here, alive.

How does that make you feel?

Well, let me tell you, when I was told this, while sitting in this Hollywood hotel, at the first photo shoot of my first time in LA, it made me feel pretty freaked out!  This was the “back story” the photographer was giving me for a shoot.

Here’s what happened:

It was 9pm on a Tuesday night. L (My friend and make up artist who I was traveling with) and I pulled up to valet parking at this beautiful downtown Hollywood, Sunset Blvd, hotel. Grabbed my bags of clothes, and we headed inside.

Excitement bubbled inside me, as I walked through the doors into the luxurious lobby.

We didn’t know what to do, where to go, I had the room number I had been texted, so we started to look for a lift as we assumed it must be on the 2nd floor due to beginning with a 2. There was no elevator. Just corridors, spas, bars, fountains, and very strange shaped seats.

We found out it was right, right again, keep right, and it’s on your right!

As we approached the door, L and I looked at each other.. “You knock” “No you knock” our eyes were saying. I stepped up, and knocked on the door, stepping back double as quickly.

Then… The door opened, but just a little. Just enough to see some eyes, peering through.

Hi” I said.. Waiting for the door to fully open.

Which , it did, after shutting again and chains being opened – the photographer, who, lets call Bob for now, with his crazy hair flying in front of his face, stepped aside and let us in. He looked a bit like a mad scientist. Suddenly we felt the whip of air as he shut the door tight behind us.

I stepped further into the room, looking around, taking in the modern, and kinda empty feel of it. The big low bed, the white, leather couch, low light lamps, and in the corner was Bob’s Mac, fitting perfectly with the over-all style. “How will the army look he wanted to do fit with this room” I started to wonder.

By now, Bob was standing in the middle of the room, not really doing anything, or saying anything, just.. Waiting.

“So, what are you looking to do?”

I said, trying to break the ice, and lift the energy.

He started to mumble, in his French Canadian accent, something I couldn’t understand. I just stood, nodded, looked at L, who pulled a face and shrugged.

So, um,.. Do you have the uniforms you wanted me to wear?”

(The plan for the shoot had been to do an army type look, in a modern setting. So he was bringing a military uniform!)

The accent mumbles started again, this time I picked out a few words

“”No”

I wore it”

Thought it might smell”

I’m not military or anything”

Never said I definitely would bring it”

What do you have?”
“Don’t you have one?”

I looked at my bag; I hadn’t brought much, as he had told me not to bring anything, so all I had were a few things I always take just to be safe….just the basic kit: A pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, a black skirt, denim skirt, 3 pairs of shoes, leggings, tights, jewelry etc etc.

I started pulling out the things I had, explaining that as he had planned to have the uniform, I didn’t have anything like what he had been looking for.

After some more mumbles and what I think were complaints (or maybe they were praises, for all I know!) he selected an outfit.. A denim skirt, black heels, and black top.

And then the shoot – and the fun (Or the awkward, random, slightly scary, very odd, very memorable)  began…

Wanna know what happened? (Or just why it’s called Leave the soap?!)

Click like – post a comment – and Follow me so I know you want to know!! 🙂

Part 2 is up!! read the rest of the story here

and let me know what you think with a comment, like, and follow!

Welcome to my Random World! :)

Hey World!

Welcome to my little blog world here – First things first – you should read my About page, so you know what I am doing, and why I am here. 🙂

And then… Get ready to join me for a life of adventures, through my Random Stories…. 🙂

I am pretty excited about starting this. Random Stories has been a concept I have been working on for a while now – and trying to figure out the best way to get it out there. So here I am. Starting with a blog – and whooo know’s where it’ll take me next!