they say you don't know what you got 'til it's gone / / they say that your darkest hour comes before your dawn

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Last night’s birthday dinner outfit:

  • Bright orange sheer long shirt with white Peter Pan collar
  • Black wet look leggings
  • Black leather-look fully enclosed wedges

I had the best birthday dinner. Almost everyone made it and the food was pretty alright. A few people came back to our place for more drinks and my brother's girlfriend, Jane, was highly intoxicated. She was talking in drunk gibberish and couldn't even play Kings. Pretty damn good birthday this year. Super happy with everything.
All partied out. Birthday dinner and drinks back home. It's 1:30am or whatever. Jane's passed out on the couch (my brother's girlfriend).

Monday, June 25, 2012

Things I wish I'd said #008

I am sick and tired of being made out to be the bad guy because I would rather a good night sleep before work in the morning than going out and getting drunk until like 3am. I wake up at 5:30am every goddamn morning for work, and I spend the greater part of my day looking at elderly naked bodies, washing their genitalia, and cleaning up urine and faeces. It’s hard enough doing it sober and well rested, so I cannot even begin to fathom how hard it’d be doing that hung over and deprived of sleep.

Furthermore, I use machinery at work. If I’m found to be hung over or still under the influence of alcohol, I’d be sent home early from work. Now while you may be saying, “hooray !” because you like the idea of going home early, I don’t. I don’t enjoy letting down my co-workers, putting extra stress on them, or leaving my residents stuck in bed all day because I chose to be stupid the night before. In addition, I could lose my job or worse - possibly kill someone. Not to mention that doesn’t count as sick leave so I also lose out on money.

And it’s not just that; I prefer to remain professional since this isn’t just a day job for me, it’s my fucking career we’re talking about. The next time you’re hung over, get a baby’s used nappy, hang yourself upside down with your face dangling just above it and tell yourself that going out the night before was still a good idea. Do that at least 20 times over the course of three hours and try not to vomit while you’re at it.

It’s called being professional, and I’d rather be that than getting fired at work just because you said going out and drinking would be worth it. Fuck you.


So I'm legally 24 years old now. Ew.

Michael took me to Melbourne for my birthday and literally paid for everything. The flights, accommodation, all meals and pretty much everything else that had a dollar sign attached to it. The hotel was so lovely and nice, minus the stupid bitches next door who I swear to hell don't know how to use their inside voices, or recognise what time of day it is because one should not be shouting at SIX FUCKING AM ON A SATURDAY MORNING. The room was much smaller than we were expecting, especially since it was a 5 star hotel, but we had a balcony and it had the perfect location, sooooo.

First thing Friday night after we sorted out room, we hit Lord Of The Fries, which was auhmazing except I couldn't eat all of it for some reason. We stayed up until 12:05am so we could celebrate my birthday by falling asleep straight after. Our sleep was disturbed by those annoying loud bitches but we got over it. We left Saturday morning to get coffee and chai lattes. As much as everyone raves on about the shopping in Melbourne, I have to disagree.

I don't give a shit what anyone says about Melbourne shopping; it's shit and overpriced. I spent almost all of Saturday down at the Queen Victoria Markets, Burke Street Mall, Myer's Basement section, and various other stores and not a single one of them had what I was looking for (or did and was some ridiculous price). I'm more likely to find what I want in Adelaide and for the price I want.

Anyway, we then had lunch at this really nice and relaxed pub across the road from the Aquarium. I took more of the Aquarium than I did of anything else. I took my film camera so there are a few more on there but I won't have those photos until the whole reel of film is used and developed. After the Aquarium we went to a rooftop bar, which was awesome. I had a Rekorderlig Raspberry and Mango cider with freshly squeezed lemon and Michael had a cider of some sort. We spotted a double rainbow and then left because I was getting rained on in the face, and I hate that shit. We passed an Asian store which had photobooths in it, so of course I forced Michael to take photos with me.

The hotel had a restaurant in the basement so we headed there for dinner. $145 + plus the best meal and bottle of wine later and we were happy. My lactose intolerance did not agree with my crème brûlée dessert, but I didn't give a shit because it was actually the best I've ever had. Sunday morning we ventured back down to the basement restaurant for our complimentary breakfast. The food was so yummy but I was disappointed in myself for eating the fatty bacon and eggs first over the fresh fruit and cereal. I don't know why, but the tea I made didn't taste right. I've always had problems with the taste of Melbourne water but it wasn't ever enough to distort the taste of my tea. Alas, I only drank it because I felt bad for wasting it, even though I didn't eat all of my scrambled eggs and bacon.

We walked to Southern Cross Station afterwards, caught the shuttle bus to the airport and waited for our flight home. After we had checked in our luggage, we decided to get some coffee and chai latte again, which was stupid because we forgot you have to walk through security before getting to your terminal. I don't know if you know, but the Adelaide Airport is smart about their security placement. You walk through the metal detectors first and then you can buy whatever you want. Melbourne is the other way around, which is highly annoying because we realised after we had walked through that there were coffee shops on the other side as well. I've said it before and I'll continue to say it; Tullamarine Airport is a fucking joke.

Sunday afternoon we arrived in Adelaide and the weather was so nice. It was sunny, it wasn't icy cold, and there was hardly any wind ! Michael's mum picked us up, gave me the present Michael's nanna bought me, and then I picked up Ichigo from mother's house (because I had sent him there for the weekend. I had no idea if Heather would be home all weekend and I didn't want to leave her the responsibility of feeding my cat). Michael's nanna called me later that night and sang me Happy Birthday. It was the sweetest thing ever, and her money box gift was super handy since I had heaps of loose change from the weekend.

There was also some sex scrambled in there, but you won't want to hear about it.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Oops !

If raising my cat is any indication of what I'll be like with my own children, they're fucked. Ichigo was being naughty so I locked him away for what was supposed to be 5 minutes... I completely forgot about what I'd done and thought he was missing. A couple of hours later I realised he was still locked away.


Nope. Not today.

Was gonna go to gym but then this happened.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Well that was awkward.

Bumped into my personal trainer (or rather ex-personal trainer because I have no intention on going back to see him even though he thinks I will) at the gym today. I saw him first but I really wasn’t in the mood for that awkward “When are you free ? Oh you can’t afford me right now ?” conversation today so I tried to concentrate on where I was going and attempted to slyly walk past him. Obviously that didn’t work.

Last time I saw him we had that awkward conversation, and then he asked if I was going to do some exercises he taught me because 30 minutes on cardio isn’t good enough or some shit. This time he let me go but not really since he started working out close enough to me that I could see him in the reflection of the windows.

It’s not like I didn’t work out today, or haven’t been over the last couple of weeks. I’ve been good, kind of. Today I did my usual workout, plus I had sex this morning so there goes more kilojoules, motherfucker. Just get off my ass about me spending money on you when I could do it all myself. I’ll get fit and skinny on my own terms, thank you very much.

I could secretly ask my friend who works there for his schedule so I can plan my workouts around him therefore never bumping into him again. I was about 2 seconds away from cancelling my membership at that gym just so I can avoid him totally, but I’m not that much of a pussy. Or am I ?

Sunday, June 17, 2012

TMI Tuesday on a Sunday because I fucking can.





If those words make you feel uncomfortable, for the love of your minds, don’t read further.

In Feburary I had the Implanon put in my left arm. The Pill just wasn’t working well enough for me to have sex and feel confident that I wouldn’t end up pregnant. It’s the last thing I could possibly want right now. I figured I might as well update women on how it’s going since I know a few of them were hesitant to get it. In a nutshell; I fucking love the damn thing.

I love not having constant reminders on my phone and hands to make sure I’d take the goddamn pill. I love the freedom of not having to go into the chemist every couple of months and paying $72 for the fuckers. I love that I don’t have to stress about whether I took the Pill at the right time, or even if I took it that day at all. I love not having to carry around the packet with me every single place I go. The only thing I miss about the Pill is the control over my menstrual cycle.

I paid something like $35 for the Implanon itself and then another $40 to have it inserted. It sounds like a scary procedure, it looks fucking brutal afterwards, but it’s the most easy breezy thing to do. I was in the theatre room for roughly 10 minutes and the only pain I experienced was from the actual administration of local anaesthetic.

As for my body’s reaction to it - I experienced light mood swings within the first week but they went away shortly after. That’s normal since my hormones were changing. My cycle has changed as well. I get my period once every two months and it lasts no longer than 8 or so days, which is fucking brilliant considering how it used to be. I don’t get any stress or spot bleeding, and I can tell when I’m about to get my period because I start with the most light of all bleeding for the first couple of day (those “Barely There” panty liners are enough to handle it).

I haven’t gained any extra weight and even if I did, it’s pretty damn easy to lose. I’ve noticed that the skin on my face has become a little bit more oily since having the Implanon, but I’d rather that than dry skin. It’s not enough to cause acne or the likes so I’m okay with it. And the real kicker is that I don’t have to worry about replacing the Implanon for another three years.

Overall, I am 100% happy with the change. I recommend that if you were ever thinking of switching to it, that you have a serious chat with your doctor. If it goes to shit and doesn’t work for your body, you can have it removed straight away and try something else. Seriously though; don’t knock it until you try it.

Things I wish I'd said #007

Your stupidity makes me want to bash my head into a wall, several times over until I give myself a concussion severe enough that I completely forget your bullshit. Honestly, you are fucking up your life. I think the thing that angers me the most is your excuse for not making more out of your life. Just because you have a child, it doesn't mean you can't do anything with yourself. That's not a reason to suddenly give up everything you've ever wanted. It's actually, in my opinion, the best reason you could have for pushing harder and going the distance with the life you want to live. You have a life-form that depends on you 100% and needs you to be the strongest, smartest and most capable person you can be. Putting everything aside because it's "too hard" is bullshit. Both your mother and mine did it solo - they raised multiple children on their own and did a fucking fantastic job at it. You're such a disappointment these days.

I don't make the effort to see or talk to you anymore because you're not worth my time. Really.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

PDA and why people get butthurt about it.

I’ve been on all sides of public displays of affection (the witness to grotesque PDA, the initiator of PDA, and the person on the receiving end of PDA) so I know how it feels to be whichever you are when it comes to this topic.

Through my experiences with PDA, I’ve found there are three types of witnesses to it:

  • You hate it.
  • You love it.
  • You don’t care.

If you’re a hater of PDA, all I can say to you is this: Don’t look. Don’t read their Facebook wall posts to each other. Don’t flick through their photos together. Don’t be around them if you’re so offended and put off by their affection. It’s that simple, mate.

If you love it, bathe in it. Tell them it’s cute and you love how they show each other affection. Go “awww” whenever you see photos of them kissing together. Do whatever the fuck makes you feel good about seeing other people happy.

If you’re like me, and don’t care whether people are OTT with their PDA or seem to lack it, then you can go on your merry way living your life like it doesn’t matter. Because, let’s be smart about it this; PDA in a relationship that is exclusive of everyone else is none of your damn business.

As to why people get butthurt about it; I have no idea. I’d like to say it’s because they envy people who show PDA, or that they’re disgusted by it because they find that sort of shit should stay in private, or it’s simply because the two involved are going up and beyond PDA and are practically having sex in the middle of the food court, but people will tell me I’m wrong.

Honestly, the reason why I believe people get butthurt about PDA is really straightforward; because they’d never do that themselves. And that’s okay - there are no laws on PDA (excluding the whole indecent exposure and whatnot) so if you’re not comfortable with it, don’t look. They’re not doing it for you. No one’s forcing you to watch.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012


Reasons why I won't initiate a conversation first:
  • I feel like I'm annoying. 
  • You might not want to talk to me. 
  • You probably have better things to do. 
  • I'm not good at keeping conversations going. 
  • I always say awkward/inappropriate things. 
Reasons why I want to initiate a conversation first:
  • I'm already thinking about you. 
  • I enjoy the sound of your voice. 
  • Knowing I can make you smile and laugh at my own expense. 
  • I want you to know I can make the effort. 
  • You're worth it.

Went to gym yesterday and it didn't feel like I worked out hard enough.

Woke up this morning and couldn't laugh without being in pain. Looks like that ab workout actually did something. Though I didn't feel like I was working my abs hard enough yesterday, today's a good starting point in showing me how much harder I need to push myself.

I jogged for like 6 minutes as well. Constant, no breaks, jogging. The last time I did that I think I was 16. 9km is my jogging pace for the time being, because I think I'd fall over if I went any faster.

My neck and shoulders are a little sore as well. Lifting weights while working the right muscles is sure to correct my slight hunch.

I'll be going again today once Michael has finished using my phone.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Listening to Julia Stone and reading Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov.

I think that was my 6th cup of tea for the day ? I drink so much of the stuff I lose count.

Michael’s out with the boys drinking, and Heather’s home, but I’ve got the lounge and heater to myself. I just got off the phone txting Hannah as well. I miss seeing her often. We live a couple of streets apart and yet we hardly see each other. Strange.

I think later on I might try writing again. I kind of hit a wall with it. Maybe when I’m at uni and I have no time to sit quietly and let my thoughts sort themselves out, I might actually find something worth putting down.

I want a Polaroid 300 Instant Camera in purple. That’ll be my next camera. The film is expensive, like all Polaroid film, so I’ll be saving that precious for special occasions. I think that’ll make like 8 cameras all up. Because one is never enough, and never using my dSLR isn’t a good enough excuse to stop buying cameras I hardly use. It’s like an addiction.

This post was supposed to be only a couple lines long. Now you have all this bullshit here. Guess I have more useless shit on my mind than I originally though. Huh.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Things I wish I'd said #006

If I don't reply to your fucking Facebook chat message bullshit thingy, it means I don't want to talk. I don't want to talk now, later tonight, tomorrow, the day after, or the day after that. I don't want to talk to you, ever. Fuck off. You're boring and we have nothing in common.

Ugh, swear to motherfucking heaven, if my Facebook chat bings at me one more motherfucking time, I'm going to block you, you boring ass son of a bitch.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

It's been a while.

Can you whistle?
I hate whistling more than any other noise on this goddamn planet. But yes, I can.

Scariest thrill ride you’ve been on?
Scooby Doo Scary Coaster in Movie World on the Dream Coast. I don’t like rides all that much.

Where is your favorite place on earth?
Right here in Adelaide’s pretty damn cosy, but I would love to be in Japan or Fiji.

Whats the last song you danced to?
Some shit in the car while I was waiting in the drive thru lane at KFC.

Ever had a stalker?
I had a pervert video caller, who used to call me at ridiculous times of the day/night and out his video phone on to him wanking. I used to leave my phone going for hours just to run this cunt’s phone bill sky high.

Do you own a bike, rollerblades, or skates?
I used to own a bike and roller blades, but no more.

Whats your schools mascot?
Religious schools have patron saints.

Play any sports?
Not anymore. CBF.

Ever been to a concert?
Ever inhaled oxygen ?

Who did you last hang out with?
I’m chilling in the lounge with Michael and Heather right now. Ichigo is being mean to me.

How much is your car payment?
$123.70 or something a fortnight plus interest.

Favorite thing to do in the summer?
I live for summer, so everything you can’t fucking do in winter.

What about in the winter?
Winter can eat my shorts.

Something you hate to do?
Put up with shitty people and their shitty double standards.

Last thing you looked at?
Lapytopy screeny.

Last thing you spilled?
Cup of coffee at work. It’s not breakfast time unless I spill something.

Who knows you best?
Larry and Ryan, plus Celeste. Michael knows me well, but not nearly as well as the other three.

Last time you were in a tanning bed?

Who was the last person that messaged you?

Last thing you put in your hair?
Leave-in moisturiser.

Do you own any Barbie’s?
No thanks. I never really understood the doll thing. I had my PlayStation at that time.

Ever had a pogo stick?
God no.

What credit cards do you have?
Zero, because one loan is enough.

How many kids do you have or want to have?
Two-three. But that’s not for another several years.

What did you do today?
Worked, home time, KFC, relaxing.

What do you do when you are upset?
Write aggressive blog posts and yell at them. Or ignore them. Whichever is easier.

Are you keeping a secret from someone close?
Nahmang. I have no secrets.

Have you ever led someone on?
Unintentionally, probably.

Do you like to swim?
At the beach or gtfo.

What’s the last thing you drank?
Vanilla Coke though I’m craving a chai latte.

What would be the best gift ever?
Check my wishlist

Do you prefer to talk on the phone or text?
If I like you, I’ll endure talking on the phone. I mostly txt.

Do you believe in global warming?
Summer barely even happened in Adelaide. Shit’s real.

What is your favorite farm animal?
Giraffes live on farm, right ?

What is your current mood?
Chilling out while having an anxiety attack in the back of my mind.

Who do you admire?
Audrey Hepburn.

Which celebrity would you like to swap lives with?
Kim Kardashwhatever because I’m a talent-less bitch as well.

Are you bringing sexy back?
I never let it go.

How many best friends do you have?
Larry, Ryan, Celeste, Bradley, Michael, Rachel, Hannah, Kelly.

What was/is your favorite subject in school?
Biology and Hospitality.

Do you sing in the shower?
Nope. I run through possible arguments I can have with certain people so I can be sure to come out on top.

Who do you plan on voting for?
I vote for the greens.

What are your thoughts on animal testing?
No thank you.

Are you photogenic?
People say I am but I swear I have ghastly angles.

What are your favorite outdoor activities?
Hitting the beach.

Do you believe in aliens?
Whether they exist or not alters my life in no way.

Do you wish on shooting stars?
I don’t wish for anything. I make things happen.

Where were you born?
Adelaide, Australia.

Favorite smell?
After the rain. Food cooking. The way Michael smells. Cups of tea.

What noise do you currently hear?
Typing and Michael’s playing Harry Potter Lego on the xbox.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Things I wish I'd said #005

Just because I weigh 50kg does not give you the goddamn right to go ahead and suggest I "eat more!" I'll have you know that I eat a healthy breakfast, a healthy lunch, and an over indulgent dinner every single motherfucking day. I eat McDonald's, pizza and KFC whenever the fuck I feel like it. I drink soft drinks whenever the fuck I feel like it. I also sit on my ass all fucking day because I can. I am the laziest bitch I know, but that doesn't mean I have to be 50kgs overweight because you can't handle the idea that someone can weigh so little and still be healthy. I'm short, 157cm last time I checked, which is fucking tiny for someone who's about to turn 24 years old. I have a small frame; you can poke the fattiest parts of my body and still feel bone. I am not fucking anorexic or bulimic. I am not skin and bone. And FYI this is not the smallest I've ever been, so I've actually put on weight, you ignorant piece of shit. I am well within my BMI index and have never, ever, in my whole entire life, been underweight.

I will not, under any circumstance or amount of peer pressure, apologise for having a petite body shape. I will not be made to feel bad because I'm skinny. I am healthy. Fuck you.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Friday night involved too many emotions.

There was one very important lesson I learnt from Friday night:


Apart from that, Friday night was pretty awesome. Rachel and I went to Black Market after 12pm because that's when Kelly was due to arrive. It was the first time I had been to Black Market since the venue change, and I have to admit, it's not too bad. Feels a little strange being in a pub sort of venue, but the balcony and outside areas available for smokers most certainly won me over.

Bradley poured me a few drinks that were not standard drinks. I couldn't decide what I wanted so he poured me a tequila shot and then made me a peach schnapps and lemonade, even though I asked for peach vodka. I'll have you know that chasing a straight shot of tequila with something rather sweet is not easy on the tummy. Swapping to cranberry and vodka wasn't a bright idea either since I actually hate cranberries (I even pick them out of my cereal). Kelly then fed me some vodka and raspberry that had actually been mixed nicely.

I'm not really sure how, but Kelly and I spent an overly large amount of time talking in the bathroom towards the end of the night that when we vacated, the downstairs portion of the club had been deemed a crime scene. All of our friends had left, including the ones I was supposed to go home with, so Kelly and Tristan helped me out with taxi fare to make sure I got home safely. By the time I fell asleep, it was after 6am, and I was rudely awakened at 9am by a phone call from my mother, who wanted to go shopping with me but was rejected as I was in no condition to leave the house. I spent the greater portion of the morning laying in bed with Michael when he eventually returned home.

Very important lesson I learnt Saturday morning #001: Hangovers fucking suck balls but Anchorman makes them better. The painkillers I had, had nothing to do with it~