It's Tea Time!

So due to my psychic mind-reading-ness (is that a word? I am sure it's a word), I know the question you've all been wondering:

Where on earth have our favourite beauties been?

 If it isn't the question you've been wondering, please pretend. Sometimes we like to feel wanted. And on behalf of us both, I apologise for the lack of action this page has seen in the last few weeks. Were we fighting off ninjas in the streets of Japan? Were we wrestling wild bullfrogs in the lakes of Izkabam? Even worse, were we studying?

No, we were not. Oh alright the ninja story is true. And yes, Izkabam is a made-up country. But Lindy and I have really been working hard to bring you all an amazing store of delicious treats to come! More on that later though,

And speaking of delicious treats, on the 27th of May Lindy and I combined our brains, brawn and baking powder to bring you what we did instead of May Project - The Biggest Morning Tea. 

A Cancer Council Initiative, The Biggest Morning Tea called for people all over Australia to - you guessed it -   sling teabags around our shoulders for a day!

Okay that was a bad joke. But somewhere in almost every part of Australia, people gathered their friends, food and family to enjoy a morning tea and raise money for a worthy cause. And what more worthy cause than for cancer research? To most of us, cancer is just a scary word that we rarely think about. Personally, I found it really hard to empathise with fighting against cancer. By the way, it's really important to research and understand completely the cause you are fundraising for, if you ever plan to do something like this. Tabbing your actions as for 'charity' can only get you so far. If you don't understand what you're spending precious hours for, enthusiasm and motivation eventually go out the window.

But here is something that gave me an incredible kick up the ...er... elbow. 1 in 2 Australians will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime.

One in two. Not ten percent, or even twenty percent, but a whopping fifty percent of us will ultimately suffer from cancer. What's to stop cancer from attacking my mother? Or my father? What will stop it from affecting your loved ones? It's frightening but even though you may be reading this right now with a perfectly healthy body, one day it could be you dying from cancer. Think of the people who are facing that fear right now for their families, friends, or themselves.

That is why cancer research is so vital right now. Also why Lindy, I and a bunch of our friends decided to use our skills to earn a few precious bills - bills that will certainly contribute something to a brighter future.

So what was the plan? Simple! All we needed to do was hold a retroed-up bake sale - the biggest, baddest back sale James Ruse ever saw!

Every person on our team was assigned a morning-tea goody or baked treat to wrestle with. Nick chose the murderous Mars Bar slices. Janet selected the bodypunching brownies. Flora decided on killer quiches. Nayoung grabbed the slashing scones. Everyone else made their dangerous choices with great fear (or enthusiasm - I couldn't tell!)

And I decided I could handle the lovely lemon slices!

This above was the 'after' picture and it looked simply scrumptious - a soft-looking, angel white icing peppered with slivers of coconut on a marvellously crunchy base (the recipe is here). The ingredients were easy to get, the process simply a 'mix it all together'. The fact that last time I tried to bake, the oven exploded (I kid you not) didn't faze me at all. Nothing could possibly go wrong! 

Well.

At first, everything seemed to go wonderfully, mixing smoothly together. I punched my first in the air triumphantly - perhaps my dreams of auditioning for MasterChef were not entirely in the gutter! Even my brother gave me a (literal) hand in pressing the yummy condensed milk/biscuit base into the tray, and we totally bonded in true sibling style. And then, as I was spooning the warm icing on top, I noticed something strange. The icing had begun hardening already.
"Well that's convenient, it'll need less time in the fridge," I said cheerfully, and thought nothing more of it.

The next morning my father kindly offered to help slice the slice (hehe) while I brushed my teeth. And when I finished, I came back to find my father red-faced, wielding a HUGE steak knife over my poor lemon-coconut slice.
"I don't know what you've done, but the icing is as hard as concrete!" he informed me, before hacking away happily at my slice..

"Stop! STOP!" I cried, and salvaged what precious little I could. But he was right - somehow the icing had hardened into a toffee-like consistency and the slice I'd poured my love, sweat and blood into (oops you weren't meant to know that) was ruined.

Luckily, we had thought to organise a test run beforehand to judge the taste and improve on mistakes, so that was only my practice slice. Still, I cried many bitter tears over that hardened icing :(
A shout out however, to a special friend of mine who bit into the slice, disguised his look of horror, and bravely continued chewing. You better get your teeth checked Paul, I'm pretty sure I heard a crack.

My baking fiasco aside, the James Ruse Biggest Morning Tea was a raging success! The afternoon before, we gagged and bound the canteen lady (just kidding Mrs Ferguson, you were lovely!) and overtook the kitchen to whip up an amazing range of quiches, muffins, scones, slices, brownies and wedges. And true to form, James Ruse did not disappoint! Drawn by the smells, the crowd was hungry, eager and very generous and we completely sold out by the end of lunch. Even my de-hardened and improved lemon slices were wanted and afterwards, we looked across the empty trays with a sense of absolute happiness and real accomplishment.

And one of the best things? We exceeded our expectations - WAY, way, way exceeded our expectations!We had tentatively hopes to hit the $1000 mark, but thanks to all of you who supported us, we fundraised over $1500 for the Cancer Council!

But to me, the highlight of this whole experience wasn't raising all that money, or the thrill of organising something fun and exciting. It was giving something I was terrible at a go, and not letting failure stop me from trying again. Ever think you'll never be able to do that something? Whether it's applying for a job, or transforming your room into an epic fake Hogwarts, always remember this foolproof way to increase your chances:

The odds of succeeding go up significantly when you actually give it a go.

Thanks to Flora, Nick, Lauren, Janet, Nayoung, Ling, Bryan, Wilson and Paul for their awesome culinary talents. Budding Adriano Zumbos, anyone :D?And of course, Lindy. You are an angel.
Also thanks to you, reader, for still reading to the very last line of a very long but of course entertaining and witty post! Photos up soon!
Always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

Mysterious As The Dark Side Of...

The moooooooooooon! Brownie points to whoever knows that song. :)

I just wanted to share with you all a wonderful day I had in the holidays (which seems terribly long ago now). It started out as just an average Autumn day. I was in the city garnering interest for Cranes for Hope from some local Japanese restaurants. 

But life always ends up surprising you. You know what they say though... the best prize is a sur-prise! (I know you guys look forward to my cheesy, corny lines so here you go! Plenty more where that came from.)

Some smile-lights included...

I cooked this! Just kidding, Google cooked this.

=)   The chef of one Japanese restaurant who was actually from Thailand. I think you can imagine my excitement when I found this out - you know how in cartoons when a character's eyes turn into $$ signs? Well, my eyes turned into big plates of "Pad Thai." I kid you not.

We ended up talking for half an hour about his journey to Australia as a kid and how he ended up working in a Japanese restaurant. I walked out with a hand-written recipe for "Pad Thai" clutched protectively in my hand and a huge smile on my face. Amen for Pad Thai, sister!

=)  Two Cancer Council volunteers I met outside Wynyard Station. Dave was from England (England, I say! Hold yourselves back, ladies) and Adam had only graduated from high school last year. 

Somehow, I ended up teaching them how to fold cranes. This turned into a 15-minute affair full of jokes and distractions - especially when a leggy blonde walked by and Dave completely zoned out. I then broke into song about how I'd make a man out of him and then we all started dancing in sync and people on the street gasped at our singing and dancing prowess! No, not really but wouldn't it be great if that actually happened? One day my life shall be a musical!

In the end, I was actually kind of sad to leave them and we parted with a warm and fuzzy hug. I then rode off into the sunset on my gallant horse whilst singing "The hills are alive with the sound of music!" And they certainly were!

Say hello to my new backyard.

=)  When I went to get my phone fixed (let us call the brand of my phone "Grape") at the Grape Store in Sydney, I began to joke around with the people working there. They turned out to be amazingly relaxed and, when I asked what sort of things they did together after work, they told me that they had a "gigantic life-sized monopoly board out back" and that they had to get "specially-made gigantic die" to complement it. I became faint just thinking of the possibilities!

Now, I want to share with you guys a deep dark secret of mine...

I actually get really really nervous and scared when I'm meeting new people. 

It's true - I am indeed a big pansy. I have the sweaty palms to prove it (and my ears also do this weird thing where they go really hot and red - I call this my "tomato" look, it's very popular with the guys). 

I worry whether I'll say something completely dumb or blurt out something random by accident. Or whether they'll think I'm creepy for talking to them or they just won't want to talk to me. Or whether they'll just laugh at me for my tomato-red ears.

Every time I've talked to someone new though, they've never cared that my ears go really red or that I start babbling gibberish when I'm nervous. Every person I've ever met has actually been really interesting and has always taught me something. Like behind every person - young or old, from England or Thailand, red ears or no red ears - they've always had a story to share.

Now, by no means am I saying go and talk to random strangers. Stranger danger, kids, stranger danger! But don't not talk to someone or not do something simply because you're scared of rejection or you're scared of failure. 

Next time you're scared, think of this: "20 years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than the things you did do." And then do it. With all the strength of a raging fire.

You'll live. I promise. 

And always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

The Plot of Potatoes

A story with a twist that twisted my heart. You can tell me your verdict :)

There was once a man whose father was incredibly proud of him. Everywhere the father went, he would tell people about his wonderful, fantastic boy, unable to keep from boasting about his son's successful job, his down-to earth nature. In return the man also loved his father deeply, although secretly he knew he was not nearly as great as his father proclaimed. There was always the threat of disappointment hanging over him - afraid that one day, his father would see his failures and faults. This stress whispered at first, then insisted, then  screamed - until it magnified into a deafening shriek that took over his mind. But we will learn more about the man's torture - and the consequences - later.

Always every year, the father and son planted potatoes in their garden. It was a ritual they accomplished together and although neither of them said it out aloud, they silently recognised it as a chance to bond. It was in the firm feel of the hoe as they dug in the earth, preparing the sods for planting. It was in the selecting of suitable potatoes to plop into the plots. This palpable sense that, as a team, they could breathe life into the soil and achieve something together. 

After weeks of watering and hilling up around the potato plants they came together again, this time to unearth the potatoes from the ground. Row by row they tugged tirelessly, smiling with pleasure as firm potatoes appeared, still attached to the roots. Later they would cut and fry home-cut chips, perhaps even whip up a potato pie. Then the man would leave once more for his apartment in the city, and the father would settle down to await his son's next visit.

Every year, both father and son looked forward tremendously to potato planting. As far back as the man could remember, they had never missed a planting together. Somehow, without fail, he had always been there to see his father's expectant face break into a smile as he handed him a hoe.

And then, it all came out. The man, shaking and angry with suppressed emotion, had done something very very bad. As time passed, the police had picked up on the small minute clues until they caught up with the man, and charged him with manslaughter. In one moment, the man went from a respected, well-loved member of the community to a filthy criminal. I always thought he looked, well, a little strange, neighbours whispered to each other over their fences. I never trusted him. 

And there was still one more thing the police wanted out of him, something they needed to completely solve their case. "Where are the bodies? Where did you put the bodies?", they asked him day and night. Yet the man shut his eyes and said nothing.

When his father heard the news, all rational thought disappeared. Disbelief and pain clouding his mind, he mustered up the courage to visit the son he had once flouted, now subdued behind a plastic panel. There were so many questions the father wanted to ask, but he struggled to say. Why did you do it? Why lie to me?

"What's... going to happen to my potatoes?" he finally got out. "Who's going to dig up the soil sods for planting? It's a big job."

"Don't Dad! please don't dig in the garden without me." The man found he could not look up at his father's face. A tear slipped out, and he opened his mouth to say more. Then the buzzer rang - time was up, and he was led back into his cell.

The very next day, the man's lawyer informed the police that the man was ready to disclose the location of the bodies. "In my father's potato garden," the man said quietly. "I buried them at night in my father's garden, and he knew nothing about it." 

His bewildered father opened the door to a force of aggressive policemen, who then carried their hoes and shovels into the back and began furiously excavating the site. At the terrible thought of corpses fertilising his potatoes, the man's father gave a cry of outrage and betrayal. How could his beloved son do such a thing to him? The policemen dug and sifted and explored, working their way through the entire potato plot. After a few hours, there was still no sign of the bodies, and the policemen began to grumble. How deep had the man buried them?

The man's lawyer, who had accompanied the police, had watched their efforts on the sidelines with some amusement. Now, he walked towards the father, holding out a folded note. "A message for you from your son."

Wondering what excuse was written on the small piece of paper, the father opened it roughly with trembling hands. 

It read : "I'm so sorry Dad. This is the best I can do."

Always Remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

I'm Not Just A Number

You may have noticed that lately Happiness Equals Bracket has been wrapped up with Cranes For Hope Project tighter than my mother wraps my peanut butter sandwiches - and that's tight. We've been breathing it, sleeping with it, eating with it and even - oh yes - studying with it. And it's an amazing feeling to know that we've only just skimmed the surface of I suspect might be a deep, teeming, life-changing pool.

But today's post is something that's been burning a hole in my mind for ages. And although it has nothing to do with cranes, it has plenty to do with hope. The story I'm about to tell involves a gym, a betrayal, rather annoying girls, and salad. It's also extremely long, but I want you to trust me, and stick with me to the end of this. Yes, I'm sure you readers are already hooked and dying of suspense, but perhaps the most important part of this story is that it isn't a story. It really happened - happened to a close friend of mine, who struggled through the darkest tunnel and came out smiling on the other side. I can't tell you her name, but I can tell you that she is one of the most inspiring people I know, a wonderful girl who taught me getting knocked down is nothing if you pick yourself right back up.

"It's scary how the little things in life end up making up your life." 
Rose (let's call her Rose, I just watched Titanic!) is a seventeen year-old girl that isn't very different from the rest of us. She goes to a respectable school, has a little brother whom she loves and hates, and deeply dreads the coming of the HSC. But although she is one of the sunniest people I know,  Rose understands very well how dark and agonising life can be.

It began with the gym - the meeting place where rock-hard abs and steel biceps socialise. Unfortunately I've never been invited, but Rose had a love for aerobics and so she went to the gym regularly. At first, she didn't pay much attention to the people around her. But eventually she started looking, and an uneasy, shameful feeling started creeping through her - inadequacy. 

"So many girls at the gym - toned girls, tanned girls, gorgeous, beautiful girls. I wanted so badly to be like them. I wanted to be better than who I was - to be perfect.” 


So one week Rose stopped eating junkfood - after all, it was unhealthy anyway, wasn't it? The next week she signed up for extra classes at the gym. The week after that, she ate a little less than she normally did, and what she ate consisted mostly of salad and no oil. And so it went on. At the end of each week, Rose hugged herself, took a breath and stepped onto the small scale. And every time the number dropped down, a combination of relief and joy coursed through her. 

She felt very much in control. 

I have to say this - Rose was always a slim girl. But the she began shranking down at half a kilo a week. When the numbers stopped decreasing, she cut the amount of calories she ate - going from the normal intake of 1800 a day to eight hundred calories. Over time, this started taking a grim toll. She didn't seem to have any energy or strength left, and sometimes felt bones in places she had never felt them before. 

Perhaps the most devastating part of this is that she looked at herself, but never realised how small and fragile she had become. She never saw the horrific way her ribs jutted out. 

She only saw a number that wasn't low enough, and a girl that would never be thin enough.

And then her mother saved the day, forcing an unwilling Rose to be treated for anorexia in hospital. Without a word to her friends, Rose put school on hold, living in hospital for a few weeks. To say it was unpleasant is probably like saying butter chicken tastes okay. We all know butter chicken is the glorious food of heavens, but hospital for Rose was a living prison.

Yet instead of resigning herself to defeat, Rose made a resolution and vowed, " I will get better. I will get stronger."

So although it nauseated her, she swallowed all the food they gave her, including the hated glass of full-cream milk at every meal. She clamped her feelings of disgust down when she weighed in and saw the figure slowly increasing. It was definitely not an easy time, and Rose struggled through black nights and long days. But she did it, and walked away three weeks later on her way to healing. 

However, this isn't a fairy tale story. There is no prince with ridiculously white teeth, and Rose did not get a happy ending surrounded by deer and rabbits. During her stay, she hadn't kept in contact with her friends - hopefully she could explain when she got back. There was a best friend, a girl she loved like a sister. A girl she had spent every weekend laughing, gossiping and bonding with. There was a clique that she had shared experiences with for five years. 


But when Rose waved in rollcall, her best friend avoided her eyes. And the clique cut her like she was contagious. Rose didn't understand why nobody answered her calls, why her old friends grimaced and turned around when she neared them. She couldn't believe how deep their betrayal cut - did five years of moments amount to nothing at all?


And through it all, she still struggled with her anorexia, telling herself over and over again that she was perfect the way she was, wanting to believe it. She did it alone. 


Then, when she least expected it, Rose came home one day to find the stress had also taken its toll on her mother. Badly frightened to find her mother huddled in the corner, Rose checked her into a hospital where she was diagnosed with depression.
Now mother, not daughter, was in hospital, and the responsibility fell to Rose to cook, clean and care for her little brother. And to pop the cherry on top of a fabulous year, assessments were looming. 


"I don't know how I did it," she tells me. "Sometimes I'd rush after school to buy groceries for the week, a bunch of flowers for mum. Without her, there was nobody to drive us, so I would have to take an hour-long bus to visit her every few days. Then I'd have to rush home to cook dinner for my brother, and maybe finally fit in a hour of study before, almost crying from exhaustion, I'd fall into bed."


But Rose never even considered skipping the visit to her mother, or not cooking for her brother. She loved them as best she could, despite everything, and never gave up on them - because to her, they were completely and unquestionable worth it. That is why I am still writing about this strong, vibrant girl. Also why, I hope reader, that you are still reading this long, well-deserved post.


So what happened in the end? Well perhaps its no fairytale, but it certainly measures up to a Oscar-winning finale. I am happy to say that Rose's mother has recovered from her illness, Rose herself is on her way to a healthy life and even discovered some true friends who, although she never spoke to much before her illness, stuck with her until the end. She now suffers again - this time through the horror of HSC assessments. 


Maybe you know a Rose - maybe you ARE a Rose. It's a scary thought that there so many teenagers like Rose around, in horrible, heart-wrenching situations that seem bleak.


Yet I hope they also share her smile, her fighting spirit, her perserverance. Despite everything, Rose is one of the brightest and liveliest people I know and always makes me laugh. If you are reading this Rose (and the odds are you are), I want to say that I am forever grateful our parents met, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most.
You are my inspiration.


Lindy and I will be bringing you, the Happiness Equals Bracket community, some new posts in the coming year! We'll be interviewing real people, who have a story to tell so that you can decide how to live your life! Our new page, Living My Life (surprise surprise) will be devoted to this issue :)


I'll  leave you with a few last words Rose spoke to me.
"I'm not just a number. It still hurts, but I'm finding out more about myself everyday, and I think the more I find, the more I like."
Always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

Cranes for Hope - Fundraiser!

Today I woke up at the bright and early hour of 4 pm (yes, you read right, definitely not my finest hour!) During my fifteen-hour slumber, I had dreamt of the most amazing day. In my dream, more than 100 students had come together to fold cranes and fundraise for the victims of the Japanese disasters. Together, they fundraised more than $5 000. Even in my mind this was a lot of dream dollars!

And then I realised it hadn't been a dream at all, that it really had happened.

On Tuesday the 19th of April, enthusiastic and inspiring students from schools all across Sydney folded, smiled, got rejected (ohhh, how we felt the burn of rejection!) but, most importantly, made a difference in the world. 

The world is crying out for our help (not literally). There are people in Japan right now who are suffering in abysmal conditions. They have no homes left. They have no hope left.

These young people answered their call for help and roved the streets of Sydney, braving the sting of rejection and valiantly asking the public to donate to our cause. 

There were many many smile-lights for the day and this is to just name a few:

=)    When Sharon Mo was on her way to the toilet, a couple of punk-ish teenagers called out to her "Girl, why you in school uniform?" After explaining our project, one of them reached into their bra (her BRA, I say!) and pulled out $10 in coins and gave them to Sharon, filling her entire hand full!

=)   As Bella and I were walking along with our basket of cranes and collection cup, a frail voice called us back. We turned around to see an old man who seemed unfortunate - his clothes were old and tattered and he was sitting by himself. When we walked back to him, he pressed 40c to us, insisting that we take it and telling us what a good thing we were doing. After we thanked him profusely and were walking away, we heard him whisper "God Bless You."

=)   The many, many people who didn't have spare change... and donated $5, $10 and even $20 to us! The sheer generosity of the people overwhelmed me and I was reminded again and again that there are so so many selfless and amazing people in this world.

=)   When the day began, we only aimed to reach $1000. By the end of the day, because of everyone's amazing perseverance (as well as their sheer charm of course) and generosity, we managed to raise more than five times our target.

There were a lot more smile-lights but I don't think words can quite capture them. So I just want to thank everyone who came out today - you're ALL amazing and awesome people and, without you, the event would not have been such a success! I'd also like to thank Abby Hatami and Brad Timms who supported us on behalf of the Red Cross, putting in so much effort to reply to my incessant emails haha! Finally, thanks definitely has to go out to Officeworks and all the people who bought and donated today - thanks for believing in us!

You ALL inspired me and made me realise that dreams really do come true.

I'd like to leave you guys with some photos from the day (credit goes to Anu Ganapathy, Blair Wang, Cheuk Lam, Joanne Kim, Kelly Tran and Michael Ma for these beautiful shots!).

Since a picture is a thousand words, consider this our 10 000 thank you's to you!

Lined up and waiting to hit the streets!

How can you say no to that?

One of our charming teams!

Folding cranes with all their might.

We raised almost $3500 in coins alone.

Our sweatshop of crane folders. Just kidding!

Sharing a well-deserved hi-5.

On our way to depositing first $2000!

People of all ages joined us in our plight.

A generous lady who donated $20!

Folding cranes at Cranes for Hope HQ.

Cranes for Hope posters

There's always time to pose and look awesome.

Our beautiful hand-made cranes!

Late night preparation for the event.

Gorgeous coloured paper donated by Officeworks.

Ready to become beautiful cranes.

At Central at the ridiculous hour of 7am.

Ready to take on terror in the world!

Our all-nighter team!

Always, always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

Sydney Train for Cranes

This Tuesday, the 19th of April, come join Happiness Equals Bracket as we take 'Cranes for Hope' to the streets and trains of Sydney! We'll be coming together with youth volunteers from near and far to approach the public, sell some of our gorgeous cranes, and show Sydney exactly how cool we can be!

Although its a little late notice (although we do have a facebook group running, please guys, keep up with the goss :P), if you aren't planning anything except a stint in front of the computer, or finding out if the guy finally kisses the girl in that k-drama, we implore you to come!

What's that you asked from your computer? Why should you spend a perfectly good Tuesday on this?

Because this is your chance. Since this blog started, we've slowly been getting more and more people involved, trying to contribute to a world that needs help, as much as we can.

For the first time ever, we actually have the resources and the support to effect change in a BIG way. For the first time, we can join with other inspired young people in Sydney, high school students like us who will prove that we can do it.  This is your chance! This is our chance!

This is also the first major project that Happiness Equals Bracket has organised, with support from brilliant, brilliant organisations such as Officeworks and Redcross.

We want you to be there. Please.

If you are interested in coming, please shoot us an email at happinessequalsbracket@gmail.com , or comment below asap and we'll put you down on our lists. You'll be fully equipped on the day with a volunteer badge, and organised into a special group! So:

When: Tuesday 19th April, 1oam (although if you can make it before, please do. We'll be there from 8am!)
Where: Meet at Central Station, at the exit near Eddy Avenue
What to wear: School uniform. Yes I know its super lame because its holidays, but trust us on this one. We'll look suaaaaaave :)
What we'll be doing: Roaming the city, trains with baskets of cranes, selling them to the public - and of course, making new friends!
What to bring: Your smile. Don't forget, you'll need that.

 

I can't wait to unleash these babies into the world.

Always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)

Cranes For Hope - James Ruse Style!

As a follow up to our momentous, enormous, fantabulous (yes it is a word) quest to support Japan, last Friday the students of James Ruse flexed and stretched those fingers to fold for a cause. And the cranes - well, you could say they flew out!

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.

Instead of the normal muttering and groaning as the bell for rollcall rang through the school, James Ruse was filled with a chorus of giggles and shouts and grins! And then lollipops danced with us, and little cute puppies ran out and shook our hands, and rainbows burst out raining sunshine above us...

Okay call me idealistic, but that's the way I envisioned it happening in my head the night before. Perhaps it wasn't quite like that, but you know what? It was incredibly close, I did feel some sunshine, and young people actually sailed to class gleefully so they could learn how to fold a crane. Here's how we did it. Are you ready?

Step One:
Shop at Officeworks for the rest of your high school life! They were kind enough to donate us reams and reams of coloured paper so our cranes could have some pep! Also so we could save some funds of course heh. But it was still incredibly kind of them :)

Step Two:
Take a piece of paper, and make some fancy creases and lines. Alternatively, take a piece of paper and write a heartfelt message to them - language doesn't matter. Love hearts usually get the meaning across perfectly!

We're not even looking at our hands!

And it wasn't just the ladies! Surprisingly enough, the boys showed a flair for creating crane-zy masterpieces. All I say is, suuuure you've been gaming in your spare time, sure.

"Hey Jing! Am I doing this right?"

Even the teachers couldn't resist lending a 'hand'!

Finally, students making a teacher work.

It's harder than it looks!

Step 3:

Find the best-looking people in the school, and give them your efforts. That would be the SRC body of course, who worked ridiculously hard to put this initiative into action. Special shout-outs go to Sharon, Delian, Brian, Anu and Leanne! Not only did they organise the entire day, they weren't afraid of doing the nitty-gritty - cutting paper with the gullotine into squares, approaching Officeworks, teaching people how to make cranes. You are all amazing!  :)

The amazing superheroes of SRC execs 2011... and me. Ignore me.

It wasn't just the cranes that came tumbling in, but almost every student donated a gold coin with their crane. Those who didn't saved their money for the fantastic food festival later that included hot waffles with chocolate sauce and the old favourite, migoreng :)
Really, what more could you ask for?

And now I'm not sure of the official figures, but together the combined effort of a high school who simply wanted to help was over $1500 and the number of cranes...I pity the people who have to count them.
Oh hey wait, thats us.

But so much more than that, what will stay with me is how nobody asked questions, or complained. They simply did their best to show Japan how much they cared. Some people folded easily fifty cranes throughout the course of the day. Others patiently taught their friends over and over again, creasing the familiar folds and correcting mistakes, until I would have gone insane. Then there are those who thought origami was a board game - but still gave it a go! I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, cheesier than a pizza garnished with grated parmesan, but together we did it. We really did.

There's nothing more to say than that, so I'll leave you with the wonders of visual technology! Cheers!

Six little cranes went out one day...

'If you hear a ripping sound...the bin's over there'



Japan. We're folding for you.

 

Always remember, Happiness Equals Bracket =)