rare and precious.

I forgot to mention in my last post how I was reminded of the wonderful friends (more like family really) that I have. As I said earlier some friends - Charlie, Jenni, Hannah and Frankie, came over to meet my parents and drink some wine. Earlier that day something slightly funny, kinda confusing and really interesting happened to me and I needed some solid advice on how to view it all and what my next move should be. Everyone eventually knew what went down and everyone had their opinon on it. As I sat on the seat infront of my four dear friends that suddenly had turned into a panel much like the TV show, 'The View' (never watched it so I'm assuming here), I was amazed at how interested and concerned they were and their opinons and thoughts were quite indepth. I thought the discussion had ended but then I looked over at Hannah and Frankie and they were immersed in a conversation still about my new dilemma, weighing up my options and what the cryptic meaning behind it all was. I had to laugh at how amazingly great they are.

I rely heavily on my friends advice, from boys to life to even which skirt to wear. Although every now and again I do sometimes ignore their wise words and go off on a trail of mass destruction. Wow, that sounds intense, never that bad but sometimes I do end up doing things that aren't best for me. I'm slowly learning, I promise. It's important to keep these kind of friends close to you because they're the ones that even though you do sometimes fuck up, they're the ones that will never judge and are there to dish out all their wisdom to make sure you're happy.

I took their advice on board but I'm still confused. But I usually am.

the week that was....

Just a few snap shots of the past week. From Monday to Friday I was busy having play dates with the ladies. Having Jenni down from QLD was exactly what I needed. A taste of home to pull my feet back to the ground and remind me of the dear friends I have.  On Wednesday we went to the Night Markets (as usual) and were treated to a most amazing performance from the Victorian Police Force. Band name, Code One. I have never been happier to witness such a thing and now there is no way I can take the police seriously. Especially after they sang Lady GaGa's 'Just Dance'.  They certainly knew how to draw in a crowd. From old drunk men to innocent old grandmas the whole crowd loved them. Thursday night my parents arrived. Once they were asleep,  Jenni and I met Charlie at Carlton Club and strangely enough it was Hawaiian themed. I honestly had the intention of only have one beer and then leaving but true to character I was there until 3am drapped in a Hawaiian lay. Work the next day was torturous but the excitment for Friday night got me through. A bunch of friends came over to meet the folks and then we headed to Ding Dong to see a friends band, Reptiles, play. Then it was off to Carlton Club (again) but this time it was actually only for one drink. A new friend of mine was at a party being held for some dude from Triple J.. Possibly the best fun I've had out in ages! To get out of the usual 'scene' and hang out with new friends is exactly what I've been craving. I wish I remembered I had my camera on me to take more photos of that night. Staying at my friends instead of going home was both a great and bad idea. I knew mum and dad would wake up early and wonder where I was so I caught a cab at 6:30am. But it was too late. Jenni had my keys so I had to knock on the door only for my mother to answer and see me holding my heels and looking like trash. Good morning Mother! Class A. She laughed and I dragged myself up to bed. I spent the rest of the weekend with mum and dad doing practically nothing. Which was the downside to a wonderful week.

And now a new week begins and to be honest, I'm feeling a little down. On Thursday I'm loosing my Charles to Europe for 7 weeks. What will I do without my dear wife? If only I could go travelling with her, it would do me a world of good. I am enjoying Melbourne a lot more lately but I still wouldn't mind frolicking around Europe.  Again Facebook got me down, only for a minute or so. I really should click that delete button and be done with it. Or learn how to deal with that little flicker of anger that washes over me almost instantly. It really is a character flaw.

So I hope the next following weeks are filled with more adventures with new and old friends. Things really do have the capability of being super exciting right now. Fingers crossed.

I could eat you up I love you so....

from one thing to the next.

After a few weekends in, hiding away at Tivoli Place, I had my first socially busy weekend out. Saturday morning breakfast with my friend Thomas, which fuelled my desire to move to NYC as he told stories about Jay-Z and Brooklyn living,  followed by an afternoon at Blackbird Markets drinking beer and watching Frankie's band. Then it was off to Charlie's to give her a much needed cuddle, she was sufferring from self inflicted pain caused by a massive night out and the only thing to fix that was burgers and episodes of Full House. We eventually left the Tanner household and headed over to Alex's to warm his house. There I made an instant friend. A gay guy grabbed me and said, "Let's be friends tonight! I can tell I'm going to like you!". Wow. Thanks dude. So for the next 3 hours we were best friends until I hailed a cab alone and made my way to Carlton Club. That's when the night gets hazy and I stumbled out of Pony at 6am. Classy. I did manage to sneak in some sleep before having to get up and head to Thomas' picinc in the Botanical Gardens. My lovely house wife Charlie made potato salad and caramel slice and we spent the afternoon making daisy chains and eating treats with some new and old friends. After all that I eventually passed out on the couch for a few hours but not before eating so many salt and vinegar chips that I burnt my tongue on flavour. Yuck!

As the year comes to a close, things are finally starting to look bright again. This week may just top the last. My best friend from QLD arrived last night so I can't wait to show her around and then on Thursday my parents arrive and are staying with me over the weekend. I'm feeling a little nervous/strange about having my parents stay with me. I have plans on Friday night and actually asked my mother for permission to go out. What the fuck!? My mum has never been strict and I don't think I ever asked for permission to go out when I was 16 so don't ask me why I'm doing it now. I just won't be able to stay at Pony until 6am and arrive home as they're waking up. That is one thing no parent needs to witness.

You Suck.

This is no time to be writing a blog post. It's 2am and I am beyond being able to fall asleep due to a million thoughts racing through my head. This is also no time to jump on Facebook. My lack of sleep these days is no help for me to think rationally and I am this close to becoming passive aggressive via status update. Just like back in the days in the school yard when you'd shout petty things to your nemesis just to hit em' where it hurts even though it's completely immature.Sometimes you gotta take the high road. So what are my options? Log out of Facebook? Delete a few people? Sign out of Blogspot? Turn computer off? GO TO SLEEP? Because even though I'm tossing and turning in bed over thinking everything that has gone wrong and I'm becoming increasingly delirious and mad, I really shouldn't be writing publicly in this state, even if it makes me feel better. But then again, who cares? I'm not one to bottle my feelings up and being such an open person is a dangerous trait. I'll tell a stranger all my secrets. Instant trust could one day be my downfall. But so is Facebook yet I keep going back. Addiction is a bitch.

I fell asleep on the couch tonight while watching a Spanish zombie film yet I am unable to fall asleep in the quiet of my own bedroom. Seems the sound of Spanish zombies on a killing spree is a lot more soothing than any thoughts running through my head. Awesome.

Heart of Glass

We were at the Night Markets Wednesday night and even though I'm poor I decided to try on a dress at a vintage clothing stall. The dressing room was ridiculous, it was beyond practical and while I was trying to lift the dress off over my head I managed to pull almost every muscle in my upper body. Death by vintage clothing. I stumbled out trying to shake the pain off and had a whinge to Charlie, her response, "You are made of glass Jen! So bloody delicate!". That night at another location, proved that statement to be true but this time it wasn't in a  physical sense. I don't want to waste my time writing about the events that took place, I couldn't even explain what happened even if I tried. None of it made sense yet all of it was more hurtful than ever before. Shattered into a million pieces after each hateful word was spat at me. It's okay, I hate you right back. Passionately in love turned passionately into hate. 

So I'm back at my not-so-secret hide out, Tivoli Place, leaving only to get food not even to go to work. It's my home away from home yet it feels more like home than anywhere else in the world. Time to figure out what I'm going to do, how am I able to better such a fucked up situation? I honestly don't know yet. I guess first realise that even though it sucks and it's sad, it really isn't that bad in the big scheme of things. Yeah sure I never anticipated it to be like this but I am responsible for my own happiness. You've tried to take everything else away from me but I'll be damned if you try to steal that as well. I may be made of glass right now but one of these days I'll be stronger.

anger mgmt.

Jo read my last post and burst into hysterics. She understood my irrational anger and I'm glad she laughed because then I laughed to and then suddenly the day didn't seem that bad. And it truely wasn't but I put myself in a state of pure anger that I couldn't/didn't want to get out of. I'm not usually an angry person, I can be impatient and sometimes sad but not usually angry. And if it is anger, then it's irrational anger. The best kind.

So I got to thinking about some of the things that set off my irrational anger fits. I can't stand hearing people eat loudly. Hannah is a chronice lip slapper when she eats, so much so that once at the dinner table, in her mother's house, that I was a guest at, I whipered to her like I was her mother, "Hannah, please eat with your mouth closed". Turns out I'm a shit whiperer and the whole table heard, thank god they thought I was being funny. But I wasn't, I was being serious. But my number one loudest eater would be Marcus. During a dvd his favourite treat of choice was a bag of original flavoured chips and my god he ate them loudly. My madness for this was of another kind and I would either dart him death stares or pause the dvd. The poor guy then started to slowly insert each chip and carefully crunch his teeth down. This took the madness away since it was the funniest thing to witness but I'm pretty certain I gave him a complex for eating chips.

I get mad sometimes when I'm at my desk listening to my ipod, daydreaming away and the lady next to me tries to get my attention. So I pause my song and she tells me that one of her legs is shorter than the other or asks me if I have ever cooked a roast. Really? Was that worth me pausing Jay-Z? In the middle of me getting all Brooklyn Gangster, I really don't need to know that your body is completely unbalanced. Irrational. Anger.

I'm trying to think of other things that set off my irrational anger. Nothing else is coming to mind. See, I'm not really an angry person. Just keep your mouth shut when eating and if you see my headphones in, don't interrupt me. Jokes. Jokes. Jokes.

Rage Virus.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Infact, I woke up to find a message, four little words, that ruined me before I had even wiped the sleep from my eyes. I stared at it for a moment, trying to make it less signifigant before dragging myself downstairs to the shower. Fuck. It's Monday morning and I wasn't prepared to start my day off like that. Then, things just didn't get any better. My tram was almost 20 minutes late in turn making me miss my train. Connex, you're a bitch and I hate you. I finally make it into work and start eating my breakfast, Janal (or whatever fancy European name it's called) Berry Yoghurt only to find it littered in disgusting chunks making it look like baby's vomit and tasting like ass. I ate most of it, cringing with every spoonful before I finally stopped being in denial that I was most likely eating expired yoghurt. And then, the people at work couldn't possibly annoy me any more. All morning it's been, "How was your weekend? What'd ya do? Where'd ya go? Who'd ya see? Nice weather huh? Blah blah blah". For fuck, firstly it's none of your business and secondly stop talking to me. And then I was given work to do with no instructions on it whatsoever. I'm not a fucking mind reader dude. To top off an already shitty morning, I was forced to phone Bigpond. I fucking hate Bigpond!!! Cancel my account, please let's never communicate again and...... I hate you.

It's not even one o'clock but I have little hope of my day improving. I'm like a grumpy old man shaking his fist at the world. I have however managed to force out some fake smiles and friendly "hellos", I don't think I'm fooling anyone though. In the middle of typing this, a guy at work stopped me to ask if I've seen New Moon. You asked the right question man. My eyes lit up and I smiled for reals. There's nothing more I love than talking about the Twilight Saga. Isn't it funny how one little thing can either make or break you. And how much of a baby I'm being. I'm staying at Jo and Charlie's tonight, once there I'm sure I'll feel better after they laugh at how ridiculous I'm being and tell me to shut up.

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb....

Wednesday night was possibly the most exciting night of my life. Two words. Twilight. Saga. I had been anticipating the premiere of New Moon for many, many months and finally Edward Cullen was back in my life, where he belongs. I managed to find one willing friend, Jo Jo,  to accompany me on the Twilight and then midnight screening of New Moon and boy did I feel like a 12 year old girl all over again. With treats packed and my head filled with naked images of Edward Cullen, I set off for a six hour stay at Melbourne Central Cinema.

The hype surrounding this movie was unbelievable. I must admit, I am a Twilight nut but thank god not half as bad as most people. You certainly didn't see me covered in over priced merchanise, although I need to get me one of those 'Team Edward' t-shirts! Okay, so deep down I am just as bad. Inside the cinema it felt like one massive slumber party, the excitement, even for Twilight, was insane. Edward Cullen made his first entrance and the crowd erupted into wolf whistles, screams and applause. God bless Robert Pattinson, babe-ing out big time. I couldn't help myself but to clap my hands in glee and smile at the thought of one day bearing his children.

New Moon didn't disappoint. I was down a bag of Pods and half a packet of fruit chews, my stomach was reeling with sugar overload but I was still the happiest I've been in a long time. Although Edward isn't in it nearly as much as I'd like so my R-Patz babe watching was limited, I still loved it. Never before have I gotten this wrapped up in something It's as though Stephenie Meyer created a cult where my brain instantly starts twitching in excitment and nothing else matters when I talk about Twilight. When life gets hectic all a girl needs is be distracted by a sexy blood sucking vampire in the name of Edward Cullen.

(un)post.

For the last week I have been trying to write a new blog post. I've started about seven of them only to highlight and click delete after feeling completely unhappy with it. Am I simply just buried in a pit of writers block or is my life at a halt with nothing worthy of talking about? I think it's a mix of both. I started blogs that were way too emo and personal to ones about paddle pops and wanting to wear shorts. Firstly, no one needs to hear me cry a river over the same bloody thing and secondly, paddle pops haven't been exciting to talk about since 5th grade in the playground. As for the shorts one, I don't usually wear shorts, I want to start wearing shorts. Done. Honestly, where the hell did I think I was going with that one? Somewhere between deep thoughts and fleeting ones, I've lost my motivation to write. I haven't picked up a book recently, perhaps that's it? When I would have trouble articulating what I was trying to say, Marcus would always tell me to read more. For some reason I'd get a little mad at that statement but I guess it makes sense to me now. I've stopped reading and in turn have stopped writing. Could the two be connected?

I have some pretty major decisions to make so I think my mind is so far deep in thought and confusion that writing right now seems impossible. So here I am writing a blog post about not being able to write a blog post. Don't try and figure me out, I still can't do that myself.

Monday to Monday.

Work. Wine. Flying Ants. Lucky Coq. Prudence. Heat Wave. Carlton Club. Whopper Meal. Egan St. 3:30am Sad DnM's. Horrible Sleep. Early Morning. Bus Ride. Tivoli Place. Public Holiday. Bed Tears. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. French Fantasies. Work. Astro Boy. Cinema Nap. Mexican Food. St Kilda. Meet the Fockers. Sister Sleepover. Work. Vietnam Date. Sister Bellas. Melbourne Bitter. Egg Cocktail. Late Night. Early Morning. Work. Three Bottles of Champagne. Karaoke. I'm Just A Girl. Carlton Club. Hazy. Pony. Red Rock Deli Chips. Tivoli Place. Bed. Sleep In. Jo. Greg. Youtube. Youtube. Youtube. Charlie. Burger With The Lot. Gran Torino. Chips. Cookies. The Hairy Bird. Rock Of Love. Orange Cafe. Lunch. Poached Fruit Salad. The Ladies. Hot. New Purse. True Romance. Matt. Pasta. Special Cupcakes. The Michael Jackson Story. Bed. Work. Home. Hot. Vegetables. Cous Cous. Charlie. Banana Paddle Pop. Prudence. Cocktail. Marie Antoinette. Lesbos Sleepover. Work.

Sing-a-long

"Kill me".

"Okay, I'll come back with a knife".

I'm nursing a horrible hang over. My eyes are burning from lack of sleep and my stomach is craving chicken. The worst part? I have no time to rest, after this it's off to Charlie's for her Graduation celebrations. A bottle of Moet, Vietnamese dinner and a Karaoke room will set the night up for some serious debauchery.

To be honest, I'm terrifed of this Karaoke room. I adore my friends and I know they won't pass judgement on my shocking singing voice, but theres something awkward about getting up and singing infront of only 9 other people. Do I take it seriously? Or do I act like a nut? Do I dance? Or stand still and stare into the monitor? I don't think I'm ready for my stage debut! I may daydream about having Karen O's voice and charisma, but the reality is, I'm awkward and shy when it comes to standing infront of a crowd. I can't even play a game of charades without getting a little nervous. Its the pressure to entertain that makes me want to curl up in the foetal positon.

You'd think years spent being involved in dance and drama productions would have cured this fear but I stopped all that around the age of 16. Thats when the tall, popular girls became too intimdating and the immature boys were on the 'lets tease the flat chested girls' bandwagon. I was not about to put myself out there to be judged by those idiots. However, it's those idiots that make you toughen up and accept an invitation to sing your little heart out in a Karaoke bar.

So it's not really a lack of confidence that I'm worried about tonight, its just that that awkward 16 year old girl comes out in me whenever faced with an audience and I can see Brendan Ellis' face now staring back at me yelling 'GROW SOME BOOBS JENNA!'. Fuck you Brendan Ellis.

Slut.

Today I feel like a cafe slut. I just opened myself up to another option in the way of food on my lunch break. Cafe Veloce, where a cute French boy served me. Whether the boy was cute or it was just his accent that was, I can't be sure. Once he started speaking everything became hazy. $13.50 later and I'm now working 3 different cafes. One of them, Twist, I don't have to say anything when I walk in, the guy knows my order and doesn't allow me to browse another option. Toasted chicken, spinach and cheese sandwich with added mayo, salt and pepper. Even though its delicious, I'm starting to feel a tad boring and overly predictable. Who knew a sandwich man was able to make you feel like this? Then there's Cafe White. They do alright when it comes to wraps and salads but its their banana bread that makes me keep going back for more. They know how I like it, un-toasted, no butter, just as is, thanks. But today they were super busy and I wasn't the mood to be boring and predictable, so I tried Cafe Veloce and discovered a whole new range of sandwiches and baked treats. Oh, and a French boy.

Now my problem is this, all three cafes are within walking distance of each other. Two of them are even neighbours. I've spent a lot of money and eaten a lot of food to become a 'regular' at the first two, and then I go and dip my hungry little fingers into a new one! I feel like a cheating wife. A player, some might say (by some, I mean a thug lovin' gangster from the Bronx). Cafe Twist is like my husband, always safe and reliable yet boring. Cafe White is my boyfriend, we go on dates and he knows how I like it. Cafe Veloce is my sexy European fling. Some might say I have it all but then again, some might say I wasted my time writing about cafes as if they were human.

*note- woman in picture is not me.

I dream of NYC.

I've been neglecting this little blog. I guess it's a mix of busy writing other things and life getting too chaotic to write anything at all. When most people find it therapeutic to write down their life experiences and thoughts, I tend to struggle and don't actually like doing it at all. If I write it all down in black and white then I'm forced to properly acknowledge it and face up to it all. I'm not ready to do that just yet. I wouldn't even know where to start, to know where it all went wrong. Time is fleeting and a lot has happened. I want the world to stop, I want to get off this stupid ride.

I need a new crowd. And I need to start making wiser decisions. To make yourself a better person at this age is fucking difficult. With a mix of parties and substances, its easy to spiral into self destruction. It doesn't make it easier when you've lost the one person that keeps you sane and safe. If studying next year doesn't happen for me then I think I want to move away. This city is becoming suffocating. I dream of New York. Living in a loft in Brooklyn, working with creative people and gaining some perspective. Meeting new and exciting people to refuel my confidence and realising there is more out there. Although, I'd miss my girls, and I'd miss him. Perhaps sacrifices need to be made.

There's the things that make you happy and the things that make you destructive. Some times the line between the two can become blurry. Ahhh, so that's where I went wrong! Now its time to redeem myself and grow up. And move to New York of course.

Office Spaceheads.

People are being strange today. I've been people watching and I've realised that the people I work with are weirdos. To put it simply. First there's Matt. He grabs his individual packaged yoplait yoghurt from the fridge and then instead of going back to his desk to relax and enjoy his dairy product, he leans against the kitchen wall and rapidly shoves spoon after spoon into his mouth until it's all gone within 1 minute. Why the rush Matt? Why? Then we have Glenn. Who is one of the bosses, earns good money and loves coffee. However, instead of either buying a fancy mug or using one that is provided here at the office, he insists on using a tiny, white plastic cup. Firstly, that's gotta get hot to hold and secondly, you're not camping Glenn. Then there's Joanne. Twice today I have noticed that when she enters the bathroom she flushes the first toilet but then uses the second one. What the fuck??? Way to waste water Joanne. I know I'm probably just as strange for noticing such behaviour but my work is boring and these weirdies are keeping me entertained.

Tyler Ward.

This past weekend I went to Parklife. I can't remember a time I wasn't dancing or being rubbed up against by wanker guys with no shirts on and girls with way too much fake tan. We arrived around 3pm and decided to watch Busy P (or is it Busy D? I don't know dj's. forgive me) As I scanned the crowd of already wasted 20 something's, who should catch my eye but my grade 9/10 high school crush! I couldn't believe my eyes. There he was. Tyler Ward. It's been almost 5 years since I last ventured back to my hometown in northern Queensland and I had no intention of ever revisiting. And there was my past revisiting me here in Melbourne. I hesitated at first to walk up to him to say hello. I mean, I was obsessed with this guy and he wanted nothing to do with me! But the breakfast champagne I drank gave me that much needed confidence so I strolled up and was all like "Oh hey Tyler Ward". Thankfully he "hey'd" me back and actually remembered who I was.

Here's the back story on Tyler Ward. He was THE coolest dude in school. He moved to Moranbah from Adelaide when he was around 15 but for some unknown reason he had to be put back two grades. He played AFL and was obsessed with Nelly. That's all I knew about him. That, and that he was a total babe. I would sit in my room and memorise all the lyrics to every Nelly song. Even to this day I could rap "Ride Wit Me" to you. I tried to find a diary entry or a classroom note to showcase my love for Tyler Ward but seems I didn't keep any. Strange, because back then when I had a crush everyone knew about it. I let the whole school yard know my yearning for the poor guy. No wonder he ran for the hills. So long story short, Tyler Ward never accepted my love and I eventually moved onto some other poor sucker.

Jump to October 3rd 2009 and there we were again. Only now, he's a man and somewhat rounder. He's lost his boyish charm but that still didn't stop me from getting the slight butterflies while talking to him. He still lives in Moranbah doing god knows what and couldn't be any more sheltered. With a can of Bundy Rum in his hand he glanced around the crowd and said, "These birds have some weird get up hey". Erm, Tyler Ward, did I just hear you say "get up"? Yep, any one wearing anything other than board shorts and a Billabong shirt was fascinating. Bless him. We didn't speak for very long and to be honest, he was very polite and sweet. I'm still happy I didn't stay and marry him like I wanted to back then though. I'd be bare foot and pregnant humming Nelly's latest hit no doubt.

Nostalgia.

My brother recently dropped off a heap of my belongings that I had him store for me while I travelled Europe. Five bags and four milk crates filled with pieces of nostalgia and an orangutan (I went through a faze, don't ask). I have to wonder why I've kept most of these things. So far, I've found three diaries that I wrote in between the ages of 12 and 20, a hundred little notes that were passed around the class room, old photos, a piece of my school uniform and feathers of my pet budgie that flew away neatly put into a jewellery case (creepy, I know). I've been lugging around these pieces from my past for some time now and I'm starting to feel like sooner or later I'm going to appear on the Dr Phil show with the topic, "Is holding onto your past and pet budgie feathers ruining your life?".

I found this one diary entry written when I was 11 years old going on 12 and I still remember that day. Although I can't remember exactly what we were fighting over, probably because it would of been so petty like Kara not letting me borrow her glitter pens and Megan siding with her. What bitches. Megan, Kara and I were probably the three most bitchest girls in Primary School and we were "best friends". I cringe to remember all the nasty and pathetic things I did around that age. I would have to say though, my biggest influence back then was Megan Provost. She was the girl who taught me how to swear, how to pull the finger and how to make little girls cry. And for the record, I was not "fucking Joel just for fun". I was 11 and the idea of even holding a boys hand made me want to vomit. Her dad had every right to ground her, what parent wants to read that his little girl knows about sexual intercourse and is already using crude slang for it? But then again, her parents did allow us watch Porky's with them.

Come to think of it, perhaps I'll hang onto these pieces from the past. Looking over them makes me feel better about myself. I've come a long way from being that bratty little pre-pubescent. I'll keep lugging them around until my future husband decides to send me to Dr Phil and I'm forced to burn them all on TV. Feathers and all.

Put on your red shoes and dance the blues.

The weekend has finally arrived! And weather wise, it hasn't kicked off to a good start. Clouds and rain. Yuck. I could be all emo and say that the weather is mimicking my mood, but that's not entirely true. I'm actually feeling a lot brighter. And I plan on having a great weekend. Last night my friend Pip from England arrived along with her friend Alexa. So I plan on taking them out and showing off all my lovely friends and the bright lights of Melbourne. Two house parties, a yard sale, football grand final (ew) and no doubt a stint at Carlton Club. And also my dear friend has arrived back after living in Japan for a few months! All of these things make me happy, although I'm not a fan of football. At all. Last years Grand Final resulted in me vomiting all over myself and Marcus. It was 8pm. Lovely Jo escorted me to the bathroom to clean me up where I was yelling, with a smile on my face, "I vomited on EVERYBODY!". In my mind I was convinced I had vomited wall to wall and covered all the patrons in the pub in my calamari vomit. And I was pleased about it. Jen = class. I did feel better to learn the next day that Marcus had vomited in the cab ride home the whole way. You can only imagine how we looked when we rock up to his parents house at 8:30pm covered in each other's vomit. This year will be different. I will avoid seafood and drinking endless jugs of beer at lunch time. Yep, this weekend is going to be good.

Sorry, where was I?

I once woke up with the clearest mind. I had an Epiphany at 7:30am. My eyes opened up and then it hit me suddenly. I knew exactly what I wanted and I was going to stop everything else I was doing that was ruining my chances of getting just that. This doesn't happen often. I usually wake up tired with a hazy mind or with a million things racing through my head. And it hasn't happened again since then. I have these dreams that star everyone in my life that in some way contribute to the events that are happening all around me. People who I love and people who I never want to see again. And they're usually so vivid that when I wake up I have to try to seperate the dream from the reality. And it sucks when the dream is happier. But I guess it's better to have happy dreams than nightmares. So each morning I've been hoping to wake up with that clear, rational mind, that even though it helped me to make my decision, it also left me kinda stranded. What if what I want can not be given? What do I do then? I guess we can only hope I wake up at 7:30am with another Epiphany.

*I've been trying to remember my point to this post. I can't be sure. Fleeting thoughts that make no sense.

Delicate.

I'm now drowning in Limbo. Suffocating. Stuck in some place I really don't want to be in and no one can get me out. Well, one can. But that's too much pressure so I must suffer alone a little bit longer. But how long can one punish themselves? How many tears can be shed? When for all I know I'm doing this in vain. To be so in love but so unhappy. It doesn't seem right. I've worked so hard and have come so far from where I first started. I've grown up and realised my flaws and have figured out ways to improve them. But then it's as if suddenly I forget all of that and crumble into this emotional mess as soon as I become confused and hurt and am unable to control myself. So what am I to do? I'm feeling so delicate and confused, I probably should stay indoors. And I really shouldn't be writing blog posts. Argh, my first emotional and girly post. I could just not click 'publish post' but....I won't. But I will continue to punish myself and live in a world full of confusion and heart ache, if it means gaining something very special in the end. Be strong. And not be so lame in the next post.

Untitled.

I started writing a story the other day. I figured since these past few months have been eventful and fucked up yet also happy that I could use my own life experiences, turn it into some sort of melodramatic, adolescent novel. With a few name changes here and there of course. Lauren Conrad and Nicole Richie did it, why can't I? Turns out writing it all down was a lot harder than I imagined. It's all too fresh still and if I write it down then I'm forced to face what has actually happened. I still haven't wrapped my head around it all and the drama still lives on. The novel will have to wait. At least until I come to some sort of conclusion.

7 days until applications are due. Still nothing. Shit.

Limbo.

I'm stuck in some sort of Limbo. It's possibly the worst place to ever be in. You haven't quite reached that happiness you're fighting for but you also haven't fallen completely rock botttom. Stuck in the middle and confused as all hell. Every next move you make is crucial to which direction you'll go next. Again, it's the worst. I'm fairly certain about what I want but it takes two (in my case anyway) to really gain that happy outcome. Being a very impatient person at times, I'm getting very ancy being stuck in Limbo. If Heaven is a cool place and Hell a hot place, then what temperature is Limbo? An average of 25 degrees? Slightly cloudy with the possiblity of rain? Do I carry an umberella or not? A jacket perhaps?! Bloody hell, the confusion you find yourself in Limbo is enough to throw yourself off a bridge! Erm, well perhaps not that drastic but ya know what I mean, it's frustrating. But like all great things, they take time. Time and patience and I reckon a light cardigan will suffice.

teenagers or mutants?

For the last two days I've been trapped in Capeside. Well not technically, but I have been trapped inside my house (due to being awfully sick) sitting in front of the tv with endless Dawson's Creek dvds. Perhaps it was the fever but something inside of me wanted to relive my early teenage years and boy did I ever. Those Capeside kids are possibly the biggest drama noobs ever in the history of tv shows. But I loved them. And I secretly still do. But I still don't understand a word they're saying. They use about 5 different adjectives to describe every emotion. Dawson (who is a douche) was quoted as saying "once you've disposed your pleasantries you'll leave..". What the fuck does that mean??? No 16 year old talks like that! A boy/girl conversation at that age when talking about 'relationships' would consist of, "So what's up?", "nothin, wanna go out with me?", "oh yeah I spose", "cool", "cool". The End.

But don't get me wrong. They do go off the rails at times. Joey enjoyed one too many beers once. It resulted in her pretty much sober anyway by the end of the episode saying "I know, I know, I shouldn't use alcohol to solve my problems". Good girl Joey. And Andy did take Ecstasy once at a Rave! She collapsed and then decided that her 'troubles' had gotten too much so she flew away to Italy, leaving the show because she took one damn pill. Probably for the best. Drugs have no home in Capeside.

In all fairness though, this tv show got me through early high school and it did distract me from what ever illness held me captive all weekend. So thank you Capeside. Thank you to all your melodramatic and overly mature teenagers that deep down, I will always hold a candle for.

Once Upon A Time.....

Today's date is making me cringe with frustration and guilt every time I write it down. Which seems to be a lot today. September the 8th. TAFE applications are due in on the 30th of September and I have done nothing for it. No folio. No application. Nothing. I guess it's the fear that I won't produce anything good that is stopping me. I've been drawing but what I really need is a story and that is proving a lot more difficult than I thought. I was so much more ambitious as a child. I would sit holed up in my room for hours thinking up adventure stories and drawing gardens filled with fairies covered in glitter. I once collaged my entire bedroom door in pictures that I loved and notes that I'd kept. Where did that creativeness go? I know. It's been lost in hazy nights out that spilled over the course of three days (usually) and then pushed to the side on days to catch up on sleep and facebook procastiation. Before beer, wine and facebook I was a good kid. A creative kid. And now all I want to do is shut myself in my room with my glitter and notepad and bring back that ambition, just like a little Jen once upon a time did.

September......

One golden pear. One ugly brown coffee mug. One empty bowl that once held lentil pasta. Two pencils. One almost dead ipod. One book. Countless coloured paperclips. One almost empty Lucas Papaw Ointment. Three post-it notebooks. One silent phone. Damn.


It's the second day of Spring and I must say I have started this season out rather nicely. The last day of Winter, dinner and a movie with my favourite girls. We ate Grill'd burgers in under 5 mintues as we were late for the movie. But that still didn't stop Hannah and I racing to Safeway to stock up on chocolate. We shared a very quick but fulfilling catch up as we tried to make a snap decision on which chocolate to buy. In the middle of telling each other stories of weekends past it was 'maltesars or lollies?'. We sat down just as the lights went out. We saw 'The Septemeber Issue'. Amazing. Although I haven't yet, it makes me want to stop wearing black altogether. The first day of Spring was shared drinking red wine with the lovely Fabiana and gossiping about the last month as we haven't seen each other in so long. Fab managed to spill more of her red than actually drinking it! And today, a borders session with Marcus. Coffee and trashy magazines is with out a doubt one of my favourite combos. One of my favourite places with one of my favourite people. I love Spring.

She was the still point of the turning world.

I finished the weekend off with my lovely friend Jo Jo at Borders where I bought a book- The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides. Although I have seen the movie a zillion times I thought and hoped that the book would be even more beautiful and perhaps have some extra little twists and turns. I'm just over half way through and even though I'm enjoying it very much and it really is written beautifully, Sophia Coppola didn't change much for the movie. Each word spoken between the characters even seems to be the same. I'm not discouraged to keep on reading though. I think both author and director did an amazing job at telling this story. And besides, I'm enjoying getting lost in the dreamy observations of the Lisbon girls. And what a pretty looking book to place on my future bookcase I hope to soon own!

Golden

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring.....First time I actually don't want to leave work...there's a hail storm out there threatining to wash me away!

I think I love you....

I'm at home sick today. As awful as I feel, there's always a tiny bit of happiness when I realize I have to stay home on the couch all day. Three simple words. Day. Time. Tv. I'm a sucker for it. I did sadly sleep through the Kerry-Ann Show but I woke just in time for Dr Phil to begin. The show's subject for the day : Is it over? couples heading for divorce. Riveting piece of TV. A guest Psychiatrist actually said this line, "Jason forgetting the cheese is classic ADD". It was at this point that I switched the channel over to watch Ellen. I won't go too much into Ellen just yet as she had the endearing Drew Barrymore on the show which I want to write about later in another post. Then it was time for Oprah. Oh dear Oprah. I'm not sure what it is about this woman that I just love. Perhaps it's because she is the only woman in the world who can make a room full of women, and sometimes men, scream histerics when presented with a microwave or even tupperware. Power. Today her guest was David Cassidy. Given my age, I really didn't know who this guy was but I soon learnt he was of course Keith Partridge from the cult 70's show, The Partridge Family. More fans than Elvis or the Beatles, this guy was the ultimate teen idol. And what a babe! I would have definately bought a lunch box with his face on it if i were around in those days. It was funny to see all these middle aged women in the audience, who once fantasied about marrying this man, holding up vinyls with his face on it, dancing and singing to every note he belted out. And boy did he love it! It got me thinking, will I one day be holding up posters and dancing to my idol, Alex Turner by the way, 30 years from now as my children ask, "Who the heck is Alex Turner mum?". But they don't make teen idols like they did back then so I'll continue to daydream of David Cassidy circa 1970's. Not nowadays. Now he's old.

You can call me Al

A boring Friday lunch break has left me listening (sleeping) to Simon and Garfunkel. Not the worst way to spend my lunch but given it is Friday, shouldn't I be pumping some Presets or Dizzy Rascal to get me excited about the weekend???? Yesterday it was Nirvana. A very bad mood left me dunking my king size cadbury chocolate bar into my cup of tea while reliving 90's grunge. And it worked. In some really twisted way, Kurt Cobain really knows how to calm your nerves.

This weekend is looking very bright. Not only is it going to be 20 degrees tomorrow, which is warm in Melbourne terms, but Javed is turning 21 which could only mean throwing one massive party. The last one at his house resulted in a girl needing cruches. Some may call that a successful party. Some may call it dangerous. Either way, it is gauranteed fun. I may need Simon and Garfunkel to rest my poor head after this one come Monday.

Look under your bed, it will set you free...

My very first entry on my shiny new blog whilst watching an old classic. Almost Famous. I put it on for inspiration. The music and script sends you into a dream world. It's Thursday night and I'm usually out dancing with a beer in one hand but tonight it's vanilla chai tea and worn down slippers with an old friend, Penny Lane. If this was the real world.....