Pink Sugar Princess
LUCKY SQUEAK - Monday, October 30, 2006
ohhh... the weekend. Bigness.

On friday night Anna and I had work drinks at opera bar and got trashed. Then at 7am on saturday morning i drove her to north sydney station so she could go to a jazz and wine festival in the hunter valley. Meanwhile, I had breakfast with Aaron and his dad and Rushcutter's Bay. It was such a gorgeous view. We looked at some boats too, which I've always loved doing, ever since I was a kid.

Then Aaron and I did some shopping and went to Ben's 21st. I was so worried that it would be awkward, the whole, ex and current boyfriend in the same room thing that I got completely trashed by 10:30. It was really quite hilarious.

Sunday morning Aaron and I slept in and then had a BBQ lunch. I was massively hungover.

On sunday night Anna and I went up to the spot to have dinner with the girls but on the way we found a bird trying to climb the bark of a tree and squeaking and squeaking. Well Anna went over and stroked it, and it didn't try to get away.
Then she picked it up because we thought we could just pop it back into it's nest, but it was getting dark and we looked everywhere and couldn't see the nest at all. So we wondered what to do, and felt awful at the thought of just leaving the poor little thing there squeaking all alone in the dark what with cats and dogs and things about.

SO

We took him home and put him in a cardboard box with some tissues in near the heater. The cutest little creature, you would have to have seen him, and you would have fallen in love just like us. He fell asleep in Anna's hands on the walk home!!
Anyway, we left the lid on the box and went out for dinner but the whole time all we could think of was our baby at home all alone.

We called him Lucky Squeak and we were really worried he'd be dead when we got home. We opened the lid on the box and he was all snuggled up asleep! So we put the box in my room so he wouldn't get cold when th heater turned off in the night, and went to sleep.

This morning I woke up and I couldn't tell if it was birds outside or our baby. It turned out to be Lucky squeak making quite a bit of noise in the box, and when i opened the lid he squeaked some more and opened and shut his beak til i fed him. All we had was some squishy peach that I'd microwaved so it wasn't cold from the fridge, but he seemed to like it.

We took him around to the vet this morning and they're giving him to WIRES. Honestly, he was the sweetest thing ever - he was a baby Noisy miner bird, and he was still fluffy. He was so gorgeous! I got really attached to him.


you can see his photo at my photo page. Just check out the list of links.

Anyway. I got work to do, but seriously, you wouldn't believe how maternal Anna and I got over that little bird. I fell in love.

Rosie

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I have read through one history
Each of you has your personal story; it is your history. Keeping a diary or writing your feelings in a special notebook is a wonderful way to learn how to think and write about who you are -- to develop your own identity and voice.

People of all ages are able to do this. Your own history is special because of your circumstances: your cultural, racial, religious or ethnic background. Your story is also part of human history, a part of the story of the dignity and worth of all human beings. By putting opinions and thoughts into words, you, too, can give voice to your inner self and strivings.

A long entry by Anne Frank on April 5, 1944, written after more than a year and a half of hiding from the Nazis, describes the range of emotions 14-year-old Anne is experiencing:

". . . but the moment I was alone I knew I was going to cry my eyes out. I slid to the floor in my nightgown and began by saying my prayers, very fervently. Then I drew my knees to my chest, lay my head on my arms and cried, all huddled up on the bare floor. A loud sob brought me back down to earth, and I choked back my tears, since I didn't want anyone next door to hear me . . .

"And now it's really over. I finally realized that I must do my school work to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that's what I want! I know I can write. A few of my stories are good, my descriptions of the Secret Annex are humorous, much of my diary is vivid and alive, but . . . it remains to be seen whether I really have talent . . .

"When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that's a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer? I hope so, oh, I hope so very much, because writing allows me to record everything, all my thoughts, ideals and fantasies.

"I haven't worked on Cady's Life for ages. In my mind I've worked out exactly what happens next, but the story doesn't seem to be coming along very well. I might never finish it, and it'll wind up in the wastepaper basket or the stove. That's a horrible thought, but then I say to myself, "At the age of 14 and with so little experience, you can't write about philosophy.' So onward and upward, with renewed spirits. It'll all work out, because I'm determined to write! Yours, Anne M. Frank

For those of you interested in reading some of Anne Frank's first stories and essays, including a version of Cady's Life, see Tales From the Secret Annex (Doubleday, 1996). Next: Reviewing and revising your writing

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 11 December, 2006  

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About

Name: Rosie
Nick: Pinksugar
DOB: 22/06/1985
Stars: Cancer
Likes: pink, clothes, shopping, music, coffee, books, cocktails, GLOW WORMS!
Hates: mean people, liars, zucchini, bolshy mothers
Career: Receptionist at Fitness First; at Uni doing Bsc/Ba - Natural History, Culture & Museum studies

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