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On paper, I’m not a risk taker.

On paper, I’m the girl who lived in the rural town for 20 years, who spent her childhood building  treehouses, leaning against the warm expanse of a old gelding’s round stomach, laying on  pinewood floors reading piles of library books.

On paper, I’m the teenager who went to the same school as all the other girls. Who did the homework, who showed up, who laughed at the same in jokes as you.

On paper, I graduated from high school. I went to uni, made friends with people who would change my life. I partied. I danced. I kissed the right boys (most of the time). I did what I was supposed to. What was expected of me. And I liked it.

On paper, I’m about to do something that so many others have done. I am travelling a path well travelled by others. On paper, my impending adventure  may seem generic. But to me, everything I have ever done has been leading to this. It explains the hot cold rush I feel whenever I gaze at a plane in the morning sky. It’s the edge of the unknown.

It feels like a risk. But not doing it feels like a bigger one.

It would have been a magical time…a period before the revolting invention of denim look leggings (I’d rather poke my eyes out then wear them…it would be ok if the people who wore them owned a mirror and were aware of the atrocity they were inflicting upon society…)

Just cinched in waists. Hats and gloves. Structured suits and Dior’s ‘New Look’. Big hair, real pearls and having the real, not the fake Chanel. (Give that you were loaded. And if I can time travel, I can totally be loaded).

vintage beach

audrey smokin'

dior-new-look

 

No need for fake tan. Or intense gym workouts. Just an ability to cook really good cakes while listening to the transistor and draw a straight enough line up your leg to pass for nylons. And a lack of outwardly feminist values.

Ahhhh who am I kidding? Pass me my ipod….

balloons

To Whom It May Concern,

It’s my birthday on Sunday. I would like it ever so much if you could give me these things when I awake, one year older:

A bedside lamp that works. Mangos. Lots of mangos. 27*C weather. A pair of killer heels. For a sad friend to be happy, even just for a little bit. The answers to the following questions: Why do really terrible things happen to really terrific people? Do echidnas spike each other when they hug? Why is my room always so dusty, no matter how many times I dust it with special dust pickerupper cloths?

I would also adore:

A Summer full of sunny days and free of bushfires. Gluten free bread that doesn’t taste like an old dry cake. To sit on a swing in the park with my best friends, eating Frosty Fruit icy poles. More people to see how fun it is to volunteer. Time to read the pile of books stacked up next to my bed. A classroom that stays tidy and students who are as always kind and funny as I know they can be. The scent of cantelope to disappear from the inside of my car. I only drove around with a cantelope in my car for ONE day, seriously.

And as long as I’m not stretching the friendship…

Let me eat a danish outside Tiffany & Co. when I visit NY. Let my camera not get stolen. Let me pull off the Mimco matching beret & scarf combo I plan to rock in Europe. Let my family stay well and safe and know how much I appreciate them while I’m away. Let me have Blair’s wardrobe. And especially, let it not rain on Saturday night.

Thank you. That will be all. Love Laura

I encountered an interesting old, old lady this week. She made me cry.

Well, she didn’t intend to. I didn’t know her. And it wasn’t her so much, rather her whole situation.

We took some Grade 3 students to visit the Nursing Home across the road and I watched with pride and wonderment as these kids, who run around like crazies most of the day, presented themselves as polite, sweet cherubs. They chatted to the residents in rehearsed sentences, making friendly enquiries about families, children, lives.

Most of the elderly ladies, seated at Bingo tables in lavender and silky scarves, chatted to them about kittens, First Communions and school. Both parties were doing a good job at making pleasent conversation.

Except for one lady, hunched over a walking frame, reciting poetry in a loud and commanding voice to an 8 year old audience of mesmorised (although somewhat frightened) children. These kids stood in front of her like statues, with glassy, teary eyes as they listened to her speak with grand gestures.

It was a moment in which the Earth seemed to stand still. I watched the old lady and the children, and no one else in the world existed. Them and Me. Me and them. When I glanced up at my best friend, another teacher who came along, I knew she had seen the water creeping into my eyes.

Especially when a little boy whispered, “You’ve got a real talent there!” A smile lit up the lady’s face and she exclaimed, “Fancy you telling me something like that! Gosh!”

The lady told me she was 89. Born on the West Australian goldfields, she used to recite that poem, in the same clear, commanding voice, when she was young. I imagined her narrating in front of large crowds. Except that now she only speaks to the same people, other resident and visiting strangers. And I dreaded that day, if it ever comes, when I will have wisdom and experience, but no room left for fresh new future dreams…

*Inspired by one of Mollie’s posts…

Almost 24, yet safe and secure in the knowledge that:

I am taking advantage of the period in my life when I can still eat chocolate for breakfast. It’s ok to still have your friends over and part take in play fights, involving hair pulling and a very queasy tummy after jumping around too much following the consumption of Thai take-away. I can still get away with talking like I am 15. Like, totally just get away with it. I’m on the precipice of a time when it’s acceptable to buy tissues because they have Hannah Montana on the packet.

Degrees: Check. Job: Check.

My friends and I have reached a suitable age when we can criticise teen fashion (white socks over leggings? Hello?!) but still follow them if we find said fashions to be of a superior class (Headbands? Yes!) I’m still young enough to plan and dream about stupid schemes and dreams, which still have a remote possibility of coming true (live in a Northern NSW treehouse? Sure, why not. Marry a Prince I will meet at a bar, a la Princess Mary and become future Queen of European country? Hell yes! Work for a fashion magazine? Look after native animals at my house? Have an organised filing system in my classroom? Be on ‘Dancing with the Stars’? Shack up with Hamish Blake? Dare to dream…)

Saturdays are for spending the morning in pajamas, eating overpriced salads for lunch and dancing all night. Sundays are for sleeping in, gelati, chats on the balcony with people you partied with on the previous night, reading the paper, watching movies and doing last minute work preparation (while eating toast for dinner).

Having said that, it’s perfectly acceptable to spend Saturday night watching DVDs and eating burnt microwave popcorn with fabulous people.

I’m mature enough to be besties with the more mature ladies at work, but still young enough to love discussing the Teen Choice Awards with the Grade 6 girls.  Old enough to make grown up choices (buy a house, get married, la di dah…), young enough to kiss random boys at parties. Old enough to drive, young enough to car dance. Draw wisdom from movie quotes, gain inspiration from great women, adore my friends.

Yep, not bad. Not bad at all.

Who Am I?

Sometimes, when I am bored after work, standing in my classroom and can’t be bothered doing something productive such as setting up tomorrow’s activities, I do the dance to ‘Stop’ by the Spice Girls.

I love headbands. This is inspired by Blair from G.G. I may never have her wealth, but at least I can have her headbands. XOXO.

I used to live on a farm and breed frogs when I was little. I thought I could save the world, one tadpole at a time. I was also really bored.

I paint my nails while I am in bed. This means that I have to sleep with my hands crossed on my chest. I know it’s weird but I never get time to do them otherwise and I now have it down to a smudge-free fine art.

One day, I want to live in Northern N.S.W and have a big white house on stilts that has dark wood floors. I love getting to school in the morning and having to turn on the air conditioner and the thought of doing this almost every day makes me almost faint with excitement.

I have two favourite girls names, ‘Sophie’ and ‘Lucy’. So if I ever have boys, I might need to call them ‘Sophie’ & ‘Lucy’. Poor kids.

Cate Blanchett and I have lived in the same suburb.Yeah, we’re pretty cool.

I studied Italian for 16 years. I can pretty much only remember how to say ‘Ho studiato italiano all’universita`. Non ho ricordo tanta della lingua’.         ‘I studied italian at university. I don’t remember much of the language’.)       And I don’t even know if that is grammatically correct. However I do sound impressive reading off menus at Italian restaurants.

My name starts with L.

You guessed it. It’s me!

alice in wonderland wisdom

(Pic from quotablecards.com)

I really like to believe in impossible things sometimes.

For instance, I bought a pair of pink and black Dunlop Volleys today to wear on the school camp this week, because I didn’t want to wreck my usual runners. I am holding out hope that I won’t be wearing the same shoes as all the ten & eleven year old girls on the camp. I know this is impossible.

I like to believe that I won’t get homesick during my big trip next year. I am pretty certain this won’t happen, since I am surrounded by amazing people at home who mean everything to me. I know that I really won’t cope well without Vegemite, ‘Packed to the Rafters’ (which is coming back on TV this week, woohoo!) and long lazy days spent slathered in coconut sunscreen, eating gelati and listening to Jason Mraz songs while lying on THIS beach with my friends.

yep, i love it!

I entertain the belief that I will grow up to look like (or at least be as cool as) Kylie Minogue. I have held this belief since I was about 6. Not letting go.

kylie

And I’m pretty damn sure that I’m going to marry Hamish Blake.

I believe that one day I will have strong, healthy, awesome nails. Not the crappy flaky ones I have now that seem to break whenever I use my hands.

I believe that denim look leggings don’t look good on many people. And that Roald Dahl books can cure everything.

I believe that one day I will get a job as an Official Taste Tester for Cadbury. One of my friends bought a me a keyring with this title on it, so this belief can’t be that impossible. Not sure where the teaching career comes into it all though.

I believe that if you dream something enough, sometimes it will come true. So needless to say, I believe in happily ever after.

I love many many many things in life. And I have read many lists on blogs that remind me of the things I love in life. And I definitely stole this idea from Brandy. So here’s my love list…

I love eating the first mango of the season over the kitchen sink, while it’s sticky juice runs down to my elbows. I love sprinting down my driveway on a cold crisp night, knowing my pajamas await me when I get inside. I love eating Mint Slices, straight from the fridge. I love the way my friends answer the phone using references to our in jokes.

I love fresh sheets (although I hate washing them). I love the shine of freshly painted nails. I love taking walks around my neighbourhood and imagining the conversations occurring inside the houses I pass (is that stalking??) I love seeing everybody dressed up on the train ride to the Melbourne Cup.

I love the velvety softness of a dog’s ears. The new-found tradition of Thursday night dumplings. Shopping. Welcoming still, warm, Summer nights while playing Taboo with my best friends. I love jumping off the pier at Sorrento and the exhilaration I feel knowing that it is a simple joy I can appreciate for the rest of my days.

I love family traditions and the ten minutes before a thunder storm. Waking up on a humid morning, knowing it’s only going to get hotter.I love the scent of sunscreen and Aerogard, the sound that pebbles make after it’s rained and the smell of mowed lawns.

I love going for walks, plane rides during take off, the view of the city from my bedroom window. Especially at night.

I love watching DVDs that I have watched so many times I know the script by heart. I love thinking about the future and reading my high school diaries. The sound bellbirds make.

Christmas lights. The Myer Christmas windows. The crappy old silver star decorations that are strung over tram lines every December. Carols sung by Bing Crosby. New slippers. I love my cousins and the way that everyone knows the words to old Irish songs, yet we can’t remember ever learning them.

I love cards with quotes on them. Roald Dahl books. The way my hair feels light after it’s been cut. Facebook chat. Seeing an envelope on my phone’s screen when I wake up in the morning. Guys in suits. The milliseconds of tension before I kiss someone. Electric blankets. Photos. ‘Sex & the City’ references during conversations. The childhood scents of worn leather, petrol and hay.

I love my friends. The late night cocktails, toasted sandwiches and afternoons sunbaking we share and the way we laugh until we hurt every time we are together. And I love the secure knowledge that tomorrow will bring more of the same…

Ooh and thank you so much for the shout out Kristina! I promise I will follow it up in my next post.

Whenever we are bored, my friends and I discuss what our lives would be like if we were celebrities.

In this game, we do our normal jobs, live in our normal homes and hang with our usual crew, however we are world famous. (We make the rules, because you can do that in your own games, although the whole notion is kind of weird since we wouldn’t have any reason to be famous if we did what we do now, but that’s beside the point).

I like to think that in my own fame game, I would be less trashbag Lilo famous and more cool, down to earth but none-the-less A-List famous (I’m thinking Natalie Portman/Reese Witherspoon etc).

I do love my hair like this...

I’d be pretty busy, what with my regular appearances on late night chat shows, guest editorials with Vogue and partying it up with Hugh Jackman and my fellow home-town girl Cate Blanchett, but I’d still make time to do some regular jaunts down to the beach with my friends. Of course, it would be hard to escape the paps down there.             What would the headlines make of random dodgy hook-ups at the Conti nightclub or days spent crusing in convertables with my friend’s boyfriends? My addiction to beachside home made gelati might spark crash diet rumours and my escapades dancing under the influence would ensure that Who & New Weekly would have me in rehab before Winter is out.

Perhaps my 2010 plans to flee the country and chase, haphazardly and crazily, after my dreams may be seen as a ‘BIG RISK’ (and some people I know see it). They would probably think I was running away from my troubles (which I’m not. As  Uncle Remus says in ‘Song of the South’, “You can’t run away from your troubles. There ain’t nowhere that far”). Or maybe just that I was a girl in search of more bits of the world.

Would the stuff I do for charities be seen as awesome? Giving back is the new black’ etc. (I once used this as a pick up line at a Charity ball…It worked, much to my amusement. Although we were both wasted…)

The perks would be many (free clothes, goodie bags, dinners with Oprah, tickets to premiere events, my own range of gluten free yet edible pastries). Although I guess I should be thankful that in real life, no one important is going to judge me when I am vicariously copying the style of a celeb or talking to my little fish bottle of soy sauce when it threatens to fall on my sushi. But it’s still fun to think about.

Plus, my best friend TOTALLY is the spitting image of Drew Barrymore. So I’m basically famous already.

xx

Days of My Life

August 2017
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...and it got me thunking... A dip platter is my idea of a perfect meal beach Beyonce` would know Bill Cosby was right and kids do say the darndest things birthday girl bloggers bloggers who rock boys with black nail polish are the sex bushfires champagne child of the 80s chocolate Christmas cupcakes make the world go round dancing to cheesy songs could end war forever david jones dogs are some of the best people i know dreaming family fashion fashion thrills me forwards free friends morph into family frogs Gen Y gluten Gossip Girl XOXO half a letter and half a list Hamish Blake gives me a lift on my ride home Hard to believe but sometimes we are even cooler then Carrie Bradshaw headbands are what dreams are made of Heels equal power honest I'm actually 15 i'm bored therefore i blog i'm such a girl i adore kids books I am you are we are Australian I can't remember as I was a bit smashed i love HK and all its mango drinks i really hope you don't know me i still believe in Santa i wish i spoke in amazing quotations I would have a Diet Coke IV if i could jokes just a moment life long love Lilo Lily Allen Melbourne Miley Cyrus miranda kerr my friends are the best friends once upon a time i loved Hanson parents are intesting sometimes read my brain sad but true sometime i think little kids are smarter then me Spice Girls Spring has sprung Summer Sunday Taylor Swift teaching this show is my life travel unrealistic is more realistic we're all dying too weekends when I'm bored I'm crazy when will i will i be famous? Winter yes i rock singstar

Stuff I Wrote