We Started At Zero

In the past month or so, more than 4 youths in America killed themselves because they were bullied at school for being gay.

This is Ellen Degeneres’ message regarding the matter. I’ll let you watch this first.

When I heard that the youngest of the boys were 13, I felt that stabbing pain of heartbreak – 13!

The oldest of the boys were younger than me.

When I read the news article, I actually sat there, shocked, for a few solid minutes. I could only stare at the faces of the boys, smiling back at me. I tried looking for any sadness in their eyes, and shadow in the curve of their smiles, and I couldn’t see any. These boys who, when the shutter clicked, had so much happiness, had been pushed to end their own lives to escape from the teasing. And for what? For being exactly who they are, and liking people that they naturally are attracted to.

When I was 13, I was in my first year of high school. My worst problem was that my closest friends in primary school all went to different high schools from me – I had to make new friends. And I did make new friends.

The THOUGHT of killing myself – or even HURTING myself – because I’m upset, didn’t even occur to me at that age.

Being different to other people is hard, but sometimes it’s easy to change it, even if it makes you a bit upset. The skill of fitting in is crucial in the early years of teenage-hood, I won’t even sugar coat it, I did it, you did it, I know that everyone did it at times. Maybe you’ll even realize that changing yourself a little to fit in actually pushed you onto a path you feel better with – or led you to that path, whatever. I know that I really wanted to make friends with Dani, so when she recommended music, I listened to them (oh, Dani, don’t see any less of me). It was a good thing that I did that, because I ended up loving the music in my own right.

However, there are things you just can’t change. You can try to deny it, but there is no way you can change it. Things like being attracted to people who are the same sex.

So, there you are, being very different to people around you, and you can’t change it. You’re not at the age where saying “fuck it, I am who I am” does anything. At these times, having at least someone on your side is crucial. The sad part is, and I know what this feels like, with things like being gay or bi, you actually feel like there is no one who would really be on your side. Even your closest friend might turn their back on you in your imagination of how events might go.

Even if you are brave enough to tell someone, then it becomes that THING where it needs to be kept secret, because you just KNOW there is gonna be an asshat out there who would make your life a living hell if they found out.

For these boys, the asshats found out.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time I made a direct reference to it here, but yeah, I am bi. I know quite a few of you will probably already know this, or guessed it by implication, but this time it’s written down here. (By the way, if you know me or my parents personally, can you please not tell them? Both of them are rather homophobic and I really am not ready to tell them yet. Don’t be that asshat and screw my life up.)

I am incredibly lucky. From the first person that I had the courage to tell, and all the subsequent people after that, all of them have been fine with it. I wouldn’t say that they’ve all embraced it with open arms, but I haven’t lost any friends over it. I won’t kid myself – there are very likely people who have sad bad things about me behind my back, and I’ve had a few say un-nice things to my face, but I have enough love from all my friends to help me pass that. And that’s why I say I am incredibly lucky. I would be count myself blessed if my parents could accept it too, but I’m not looking for miracles ha.

I honestly feel the utmost sympathy for anyone who is suffering because they don’t feel that luck and love that they need. I would be willing to talk to anyone who needs a pair of ears to receive their problems. But I wish I didn’t have to say that – I wish that kids don’t need a complete stranger’s support to be okay everyday, that if they need someone to help them, they can do what I get to do, and call up a friend to unload onto them.

It’s just plain wrong that these boys felt like they didn’t have a single one of these friends to talk to.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with them, so why were they made to feel like they had to end their lives?

May their souls rest in peace in, if they so believed, heaven. Yes, because even if I am not religious, I don’t think that an all-loving God would bar a 13 year old boy from having eternal peace.

If you’re feeling upset about something, please tell someone. People have a habit of surprising you in the amount they can care.



I came across this “Ice cream theory” on Mai’s Tumblr just then, and I read it. I found it very very interesting.

The Ice Cream Theory.

This I suppose in a very self centered sort of way runs tangent with my Life Is A Meal theory (as Katherine had posted for me a while back).



P.S. I will write about Spanna’s birthday maybe tomorrow. And write about today…tomorrow. I’m so behind.


Those were the reassuring first words that Mandy said to me upon our proper meeting last night. I was eating, and I hadn’t eaten since recess.

No, actually she said “hi” first, but social conventions aside, she called me fat.

Allow me to put it into context.

Last night was Eunice’s youth group Reverb’s night. I don’t know how to refer to them properly. Moving on.

Carmaine dropped us (Bianca and I) off at the place, and we went in, and were greeted firstly by the sound of Eunice’s laughter, and secondly by Arnold saying, “Hey it’s the famous BRuCE!” (Our reputation precedes us, so to speak.)

Shook hands with Arnold, sought out Pris who was very delighted to see us (and to finally see who “Bianca” is), saw Mandy, who said “hi” (but again I’m excluding that) and a few other people.

They were still cutting up the ingredients so I went over to the far table to start making inari bags (by the by, this was “Sushi night”). Saw Auntie there, and was rather glad to see her.

So, a few minutes in Mandy called for attention, and everyone introduced themselves around the room, saying their name and their favorite piece of clothing. Carmaine and Bee did very sweet things, and mentioned each other (aww). I accidentally implied I’m a nudist, and Eunice likes her school hoodie, which got dragged through the mud at Youth camp a few weeks back, and everyone knew about it.

So we moved on to start making the sushi since the ingredients were ready, and I managed to get away with standing by the table watching people make it and then eat it. Auntie, B.T. and myself did “wasabi shots” (not really) where we tried as much wasabi on a sushi roll as we dared and went for it. Eunice ate half an inari with wasabi in it, and started tearing, so she gave the other half to Pooki. Pooki dared not, and sort of half spat back up the food. Finally she ate a mouthful, and shuddered (hilariously) through the wasabi.

Speaking of spitting back up food, there was also a guide-dog-in-training, Zippy. Zippy was cute. Zippy was calmer than Eater anyway (not that Eater was there. I was making a comparison).

Pris got drawn on 3 times. I feel like I should mention it.

After everyone ate and was happy, we cleaned up and started the games. Started a game of Cranium (strange random but fun game) and got teamed up with a few strangers, which was a pity, as we really wanted BRuCE plus Pooki (or Pris). Either way, as the game progressed it became apparent that my team was winning, and would win. Then by some strange twist of “whoever wins this round wins” rule, we didn’t win. Still. Technically we were the victors.

There was a part of the game where we had to hum a famous tune to our team, and the first team to get it wins. The tune was Greensleeves and Pris and I were both going, “oh hell yeah we got this.” Then at the same time we realized we were both humming the Harry Potter theme in our heads.

Unfortunately, the night had to draw to a close. Carmaine took us back home again, then Bee dropped me off. I was stoked to have met Mandy in person, and to see Pris again, and everyone else were super awesome as well. Very fond memories were made. Including Carmaine humming “that’s the way uh huh uh huh I like it uh huh uh huh”.


A Wonderful Dream Come True

Aw shucks, why not? I can have dreamy moments (stolen off Bee) every now and then.

I was actually wondering what I should title this awesome blog when I remembered talking to Carmaine about it last night, and her saying “I could always dreeeeeam”. And so I suppose this is a dream come true for my friend. Apologies in advance to Bee for nicking that title, and to Ula, in case you didn’t want me to spread it around. But seriously. It’s awesome!

To catch my readers up, Ula is a friend of mine from my previous school, Brentwood. I know I should censor her name but meh. Anyway, last year (2008 – oh ha if I close the bracket straight after 8 it becomes a smiley face) she came to MacRob, and as I was taking her around on her orientation day, seeing as I know her, she told me that she’s dating a guy so awesome that they’re going to get married. I was really stunned, and for about an hour afterwards I kept on asking her questions and planning out small details of her wedding (girly moments are totally allowed) and generally shaking my head and saying “oh my god wow”.

Ula left our school at the end of 2008, and is going to another that offers VCE 3/4 subjects that she wants (I think music centric). It was a pity she left our school. I’m back to being the only Brentwoodese. Another reason I’m annoyed her is the following:

After finding out she left, I called her to warn her to tell me when Vlad proposes, which he will before January is over, Ula had said. They’d wanted their wedding to be right after she turns 18, in early 2009. Ula in turn promised to tell me when it happens.

Last night, I was online with Julia and Carmaine, and out of the blue Ula pops up and says, “Hey I know you told me to tell you when it happens. Well it’s a day late…but Vlad and I are now officially engaged.”


I was actually physically scream-whispering “AHHHHH” and laughing and everything. I told Carmaine immediately, and in my haste to read what Ula was writing, I made a huge typo. Carmaine asked me what I’d written. I re-wrote it, apologizing for my excitement. She said, “I can usually understand your typos; you must be REALLY excited.”

I don’t know if Ula would want me to post how he did it? Actually, I don’t even know if I should post the fact at all. But I’m sure she must be so over the moon right now that she’d want EVERYONE to know. Well, I made a small dedication to her on my display name, and in turn 3 or 4 people immediately asked me, “Oh my gosh, is Ula getting married?” So I suppose the word is going to spread anyway.

It’s rather the awesome to be thinking that one of my friends is ENGAGED, to be MARRIED, and I can refer to him as her FIANCE. Julia remarked that I was so excited when one friend got engaged, what would happen if all my friends got engaged at once?

Okay, so maybe there is such a thing as “true love” and some of us are just lucky, to be able to find it so early on in our lives (considering Ula’s previous boyfriend was a douche…oh wait…I wonder if his girlfriend reads this?) and to be so happy and to be living that dream that I’m sure all normal girls have had (note: normal – and April don’t you dare correct me by saying “note: girl”).

The point is, the second reason I’m annoyed at her for leaving was because I’d envisioned him proposing at the Yr 12 formal for MacRob. Or at least I’d get to see her flaunt her engagement ring. But noooo.

Congratulations, Ula and Vladimir (did I spell his name right?). Or should I say Soon-To-Be-Mr-And-Mrs-Protassow?

Keep Cool (and believing in love)


Dude, what happened to you?

Here are some baby pictures of me. Since I have nothing to blog about and apparently no self-dignity in any form.

Oh crap how do you upload pictures on this new WordPress? Let’s see…

ruyi-oct-93I was 2 and a bit, according to the date that was penciled in at the back of that photo.

ruyi-jul-94-001I was 3 there

ruyi-1995-002It was in 1995, and winter, so either I was 4 and a half years old, or 5 and a half. I looked 4. Don’t you think that’s 4? Anyway.

That was fun.

De Fluffe, Out.

P.S. Whoever comments “aww cute” gets their comment deleted. Har. I have the power to do that.

Emotionally Retarded

I found a file lodged in my cyber folder today, and it was a sort of apology letter to someone from Brentwood that I wrote when I was in Yr 8.

I was so incredibly emotionally retarded.

Here is the apology letter, more or less (the only changes I made are censoring of names):

Hey R-.
Ok, the reason I’m writing this on Notepad is coz i’m not on the Net.
Now, firstly, i wanna say, don’t close this file coz it’s plenty important.
Ok, second thing is hopefully this IS rachael reading this and not M-or H- or somebody. if it is please call r- to the computer.
Finally, i’ll say that this is an apology note.

Ok, now, my internet is v slow so that’s why i’m writing it on notepad first.

Firstly, i wanna say sorry bout calling you a sissy or prissy on Monday. I mean, that IS why you’re mad, right? OK, i’m really sorry about that, seriously, and please stop ignoring me coz it makes me feel bad and i don’t like to feel bad. (how selfish of me)

Next, i’m sorry about the j-/g-/footy team thing, because you’re right; it is mean. and i sure as hell wouldn’t want you or anybody to say that to me, and you don’t deserve it either. heck, you deserve it less than me coz you’re so nice to me. Hmm, did that sound a little bit soppy?

Anyways, lastly i wanna say sorry for being such a crappy friend. I am. I am always mean to you and i never treat you like I want to be treated, and yet you still treat me nicely. That’s not fair for you. And see, i’m such a crappy friend that i’m making you read this sorry note like this. In fact, i’m surprised you still consider me as a friend, I am truly lucky, too lucky.

Ok, that was it. Oh and i’m sorry for any mean things i will do in the future, because i probably won’t realize it until it’s too late. By that i mean i’ll have left the school.

And please don’t mention this at school coz you know me, i ain’t an emotional person and this is plenty emotional. Just reply thru email, yeah? yeah? good.

oH one last thing: i swear to god i’ll never bag you ever again. Or at least i’ll rilly try, ok?

Sincerely (i know that pisses you off)

PS: we still friends?

pps: by the time you read this, maybe it’s already next week (today’s wednesday), so yeah….maybe we’re friends again by then, but chances are no.

ppps: this file is called school thing coz i don want my oldies to read this. so yeah…lol.

Apart from the clear indication of half-assed-ness in just about every second word, I read that and I wonder, how the hell did I possibly expect R- to forgive me? Yet I know she did.

So there it is, I was a complete emotional retard a few years back. I don’t know why – or maybe I subconsciously do – but certain things that happened during my 2 years at Brentwood I try to cover up. I know it’s foul of me to do, there are incredible people and friends that I met and made during those 2 years, but when I look back all I can remember are the moments where I have to cringe, eg that letter, and when I wanted to hit myself.

De Fluffe, Out.