Rosie Ryan

My name is Rosie. I am a maltese shitzu female at age 4. I have lived my whole life with the Ryan family. I remember my first night with them, it was so much fun, i chased Amelia around the polished black tiles, trying to catch onto the ribbon she was dangling behind her as she ran. I was only little then, i could fit into the palm of a humans hand. I had dark black fur and when i ate my food, my back legs would rise up off the ground because my head was heavier than the rest of my body.

Over the years i have grown to love and live with my family. I have a little red box as my bed where i keep my special biscuits hidden under my tiger rug. I only sleep in this bed at night time, for the rest of the day i lay on the window sill, watching people drive past. I get angry at them sometimes, when they don't keep moving, i bark until they get the message that they aren't welcome on my street. The leaves especially tend to linger on my land. I bark out loud if they move or fall from the trees. How dare they...

When i am not sleeping, eating or keeping peace in my neighbourhood, i like to play. My basket of toys sits at the foot of the bookshelf and i pull them all out until i find my Sulley doll or my Froggy, who lost his ribbet after a particularly fast paced game... i didn't mean to hurt him.

I love my life, and my life loves me because as they say, it's a dogs life...

Beautiful Plan

8.45am - Awaking to the sound of the birds and opening my eyes wide.

9.00am - Running through the morning. The cold air on my face, my legs powering me along as i breathe in the fresh morning air.

9.45am - Showering under the cold water to wake me and pulling on my black trackies and cute singlet top.

10.00am - Eating a piece of toast with golden butter melted over the top. Drinking mango juice.

10.15am - Brushing my teeth before i start disc one of Elvis Hitstory. My window open, curtains closed, lamp on, bed made, feeling fresh and organised.

11.00am - Starting my beautiful World War Two timeline and organising my folders. Elvis Hitstory continues playing.

12.30pm - Making a beautiful lunch that i eat at the set table, with my hair fastened back off my face with my white headband.

1.00pm - Slipping on proper shoes and brushing my teeth (again i know) as Dad and i go driving through the country side. The sun shines down upon the world.

2.30pm - Returning home to a house that is warmed by the afternoon sun. Lay on my back lawn as i read Harry Potter over and over again.

3.15pm - Coming inside and talking online to my friends and listen to the last of Elvis Hitstory.

4.00pm - Cleaning up my desk and revise a bit of Japanese as i get ready for Babysitting.

5.30pm - Going next door to babysit. Playing horses and spy games until story time.

8.30pm - Reading Saddle Club to Georgie as she drifts off to a peaceful sleep.

9.00pm - Snuggling up on the couch as i complete my balancing equations homework. Flicking through the late night T.V shows.

1.00am - Brushing my teeth, crawling into bed after a long day, relief.

The Shop Door

In strolls this man, he is on a mission. His light blue denim jeans are snug around his bulging waist, fastened with a brown leather belt, buckles shining. His faded black T-shirt sports a creative pattern of white paint, splattered in a random fashion. Glowing from the inside, the room elates as he walks across the green lino floor. He chats away as if we have been friends for ages, talking about every happy situation under the sun. Optimisim shines down upon him like a golden light and the feeling remains as a satisfied man walks through the shop door, with his bacon, cheese and tomato foccacia.

Miss city girl walks in or rather, strides in, as she too is on a mission. This mission lacks the passion of my last customer. This woman doesn't warm up the room, rather, turns it cold. She wears a bright yellow knitted cardigan, and her blonde hair is flipped over her shoulder as she surveys the room. Her eyes are narrow, the Dior sunglasses on her head hold the whispy parts of her hair off of her face. The essentials: water, gum and a paper. That's all a girl from the city needs when she finds herself in a place like this. Fine by me i think as she takes her items and leaves, not a smile, only a quick 'see ya'.

The bowling duck walks in, shuffling her white shoes across the floor as her walking stick taps along. She has her visor on and her big black sunnies that cover half her face. She smiles as she grabs the paper, taking forever to bend down and up again. She refuses help because an old duck such as herself is still fighting fit, for an old duck of course. Her wrinkled and speckled skin covers her body, as she reaches a shaking hand into her black leather purse. The correct change spills out onto the counter. Smiling broadly, she waddles out the door, laughing at life as it laughs back at her...

School Day

I was awoken abruptly to the ringing of my phone and as i opened my eyes the first thought that ran through my mind was, "Gosh the mornings are getting brighter and brighter".

Unlike my usual routine, i ate breakfast, a cup of milo, before i made my bed, so that was risking my day before it had even really started. I battled on however and Mum and i got into the car. We drove around to Monique and Fuzzy and i let Fuzzy into Monique's paddock to finish her left over hay. I snuck in a carrot for each of them, as a gift from me. I think that made them feel somewhat special.

Stepping over the dusty patches between the grass, i climbed back over the fence, in my school dress i might add, and got back into the car. Mum and i drove along the winding roads to school. I left Mum and the last thing she said to me was, "I'd wish you good luck, but you don't need it".

Walking up to my locker room, the school bell sounded and i cringed as i thought about how late i actually was. I left my bag in my locker and went with Steph to homeclass. We had to go to our house for a meeting. During the meeting we talked about the upcoming Chess Tournament. I unfortunately am not skilled in the game so i have left the game in the hands of my peers, i hope we can win the Bruss Sheild this year, i have faith in my Emerald house!

I walked in late to chemistry and politely asked my teacher to let me through as she was blocking the way to my seat. She didn't hear me and the boys laughed as i stood for ages, waiting for her to move while she read her role. Finally seated i spent the morning learning of ionic bonds and compounds etc.

Liberation was at hand when the bell sounded out loudly across the school. Sitting with the girls under the pretty green trees we talked and nibbled on our recess. However, all good things come to an end and i had to move off to history. Maddie and I sat at the front of the class, as per usual, so we can see of course! We are watching Schindler's List at the moment and it is rather moving. I highly recommend this to any budding historians. I let the tears flow down my cheeks as i watched on in horror at the screen. It didn't feel like a screen, i felt as if i had to reach out and stop the death, stop the war...

Australian studies followed my history lesson. We are writting essays on the crime and justice systems in Australia however Steph and i used this as a chance to chat and write pretty signatures all over my notebook. We were so disheartened after watching part of the movie that essay writing seemed a petty activity compared to the diasters and tragedies that happen in this world.

Lunch proved to be highly entertaining from the first minute as Beirmann showed me his food all mushed up in his mouth, so childish, but so funny! We then dared Daniela to hug each teacher that walked past as today is "National Cuddle Day'. Tears rolled down my face again however, these were tears from laughter. Then Daniela and i made a team effort to walk across the lawn in a hug, we shuffled our feet along, taking ages to make it.

My last lesson for the day was Japanese. I walked along the path, looking at the red bricks and the blue ones as my black shoes clopped along. I took off those black shoes as i entered the Japanese room. Taken by surprise, my teacher started me on my year 11 course. This is so i can fit in year 11 while i am away in Japan. It all went so well, i even had a formative test and i got 90%!

We were let out five minutes early, so we could make it back to our lockers. I talked to Rachael over and over again about the awaiting phone interview, and she promised me that everything would be ok. How right she was. I drove home in the car with Luke and he told me all about his CAD project, he has to start all again. Also, his Ruben and Leo escaped last night, they went for a wonder down to the wetlands and came home covered in mud and looking very guilty!

Wishing me luck, Luke and Denise said goodbye as we pulled up my drive way. I raced inside, setting out my desk, awaiting the phonecall. I ate a green jellybean and then before i knew it i was on the phone, half way through my interview. All of a sudden it was over and the feeling swept over me, the most amazing feeling. I am going to do it, away i will fly and i will live the life of a Japanese student for three whole months.

That was the day of Melissa Marseille Ryan on the 20th of October 2006.

This Is Reality

I am sorry to have left you in suspense, i never posted that on the Monday morning, mum actually did ring the company and we actually did book an appointment for 30 minutes ago.

I can feel it running through my body, the feeling, my arms are weak at the thought but here I am, writing as the girl who is officially going to Japan! That's right, I am in! She called me at 4.21pm and the interview lasted about 10 minutes.

Empty my heart, i've got to make room for this feeling...

Slack

Ok, time for confession. I have not booked my second interview! Is this really as bad as i think? I don't know! I won't know until i ring and book it, and even that i am trying to palm off to mum!

The Issue

Melissa gets a letter from her exchange company, saying, congratulations, you have been accepted! She sighs a great sigh of relief until, along comes a nasty looking letter that says:

"We would like to have a second interview with you to briefly retest your japanese skills, please book this asap for any date between Monday the 16th - Friday the 20th."

So Melissa, starts practicing for this, but doesn't ring them. Nervous, yes...
But, by being so nervous, she makes herself not only nervous, but paranoid because now she hasn't acted promptly like she usually does and is sitting here typing a blog on Sunday night, without having a phone interview date.

The Plan

Mel has decided that on Monday morning she is going to call them and just hope that they don't answer. If they do, she doesn't say anything about the fact that it is monday morning and simply says that she would like to book an interview date. If for some reason, Kim, the coordinator, is extremely upset at her, she will simply try and hold back the tears and apologise the best she can. If they don't answer, Mel goes to school and her mum will call them after 9am because 9am is office hours.

This is so stressful, you have no idea, the knot in my chest is getting so tight that i feel like crying. I really shouldn't worry about it but my gosh, this is so horrible. I am so sorry i left it so late, honestly, i am. I don't even know right now who i am apologising to because i have been so bad.

I need to stop this negative thinking. The good things are that, i have finished my independant reading journal and i am going back to school which will be nice and they have actually already sent you a 'congratulations' letter so, perhaps you are in after all? Who knows, all i know is that there should be a law against letting me think, i scare myself.

Music

I have just suffered a wave of frustration after reading a blog a few minutes ago. So here is what i need to share with you all. It frustrates me to death to hear people say that anyone who likes something popular, is not being individual. That is the most ridiculous thing i have ever heard and if you aren't strong enough to go with the flow as well as against it then you have no right to deem the number one hit of the week or the cute new ballet flats that people like as stupid and unorigional. This goes in various categories, but the most prominent is music.

Yes there are songs that every girl loves each week, there are fads and crazes all the time. So why should that frustrate you? People are so insecure about who they are that they feel the need to go against what everyone else does just to maintain an image. If you like it, love it and embrace it. Don't ignore it simply because it is popular. And don't you dare put others down for liking it. It is rude and very,very insensitive. You claim to only enjoy the 80's or you only like punk music then so be it, but don't strip the hip-hop or pop singers of their talents because everyone has talent, no matter in what way, shape or form. You are not superior to the girl that loves the latest hit, so don't look down upon her.

Open your eyes. Ofcourse we are all naturally going to swing to one side or the other, but at least accept and appreciate other people's interests. We are all guilty of it and all i want is to make you aware of it, and if you do it, then perhaps today is the day that you can change. Become more accepting, realise that different genres are simply different ways of expressing yourself, neither is more superior, it is simply that you enjoy one more than the other.

Fairy Tale

The morning sun shone down upon her golden skin as she walked gracefully down the quiet country rode, her red, cotton dress blowing in the gentle breeze. Breathing in the fresh air she watched the horses run wild in the paddocks and the cockatoos sweep across the beautiful, clear sky. Today was perfect, already.

She crossed the gurgling creek, letting the cool water slither over her pretty painted toes. Sweeping her silky brown hair from her face, she looked up and there he was. Standing gallantly in the distance. The flutter of one million butterflies filled her heart, soul and mind. Every part of her flew away with the breeze. As light as a feather, she hopped over the moist rocks and through the dry paddock to the lush vineyard. Choosing one of the thousands of rows, she ran, as fast as her legs could take her, towards him. The large green leaves brushed against her skin, tickling her arms as she flew towards his arms.

The moment of connection, when her hands touched his neck, and his hands touched her hips, was a feeling like no other. More than one million butterflies, more than one million tears of happiness filled her body. His sea blue eyes looked beyond her face, into her mind as he smiled with relief at the sight of her. His heart, like hers, was at the point of exploding. She completed him, like no other. The connection of their minds was surreal.

Her delicate hand was held gently in his as he guided her through the paddocks and vines. The sun shone down on their backs and they ventured towards his land. Walking through the iron gates, talking with joy and happiness, the pair nestled themselves on the balcony. Sitting at their chairs, letting velvet wine slide through their lips they embraced the moment.

There he was, with the woman of his dreams, and there she was with the man of hers on the most beautiful day of the year. Where every single flower, every single butterfly, horse and leaf seemed to have meaning and a purpose. The wind blew a sweet melody through them and they danced together under the shade of the near gum tree, letting time continue on without them.

They were meant to fly this way.