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I don’t know much, but I do know…

Trying to fix your mobile charger with a soldering iron doesn’t work. You end up using your Dad’s old clunky phone because your own phone is rendered flat and useless. Having a lamp lit ‘Storytime’ session with your friends, reading aloud old diary entries ensures hilarity.Singstar + work colleagues = fun. Strawberries taste nicer when you pick them yourself, even if it means you have to spend more time washing them than devouring them.

If you are a teacher and you go to shopping centres during school holidays, you WILL see your students. When trying new cocktail recipes, your efforts seem to improve with the more you make (and drink!) Hours at work may drag, but biannual dental appointments arrive in a flash.

Chocolate and water tastes better when it’s cold. Summer colds suck. There’s something nice about knowing that you are someone a friend calls in a 4am crisis. I will think nothing of spending $20 on a cocktail at 1am but will use the same disposable razor for months until it grates my legs.

You can tell a lot about someone from the content of their ipod. The world always seems a better place after a hot shower. Kissing is underrated. It’s always an appropriate time to play a John Farnham song. It’s always bin day. My self belief escalates rapidly if my nails are painted.

That’s all for now.

It’s taken less than a week, yet I am completely and utterly settled into the passionate life of doing not much.

By ‘not much’, I kind of mean the active version of ‘not much’, that involves drinking wine, sitting on the beach, reading crappy novels (so deplorable that I wouldn’t even watch the mini series version) and wasting money on phone calls to friends in Paris while hoeing my way through leftover Christmas cake.

My remaining brain cells are working at 50% of their power and I’m wondering whether any of them will survive the duration of 2010, when I plan to be doing a lot more of the same, except with more dancing and foreign cities thrown in. (Not that I am at all stressed about this, as I’m having a fabulous time. It’s not normal that the memory of consuming soft cheese in every meal today could trigger such feelings of satisfaction).

It’s a comforting, easy thought knowing that I am spending Summer in the same little nook of the world where I have always holidayed, where I know every street, every short cut and every bitchy sales assistant who is angered by holiday crowds. I see the same strangers on the beach and watch their children grow up. My body virtually goes into first gear and my brain grins as soon as I arrive at this place.

I wonder whether I will return here with the same enchanted feeling of coming home after my big trip? Or whether I will be disillusioned by the small town beachside charm? (I doubt it, this place has the best home-made gelati and vanilla slice in Melbourne).

Do you have a little home away from home where you grew up? And do you still feel the same way about it? Tell me what you’re are thinking, super cool bloggy bunnies…

So, for my birthday I did get so many amazing things. I didn’t wake up next to George Clooney or get to ride on the Tay Tay tour bus or anything, but it was amazing all the same.

It did feature: Mangos, a Hannah Montana birthday card from my parents, honey joys and cupcakes that looked like Va jay jays. (They weren’t supposed to, they were meant to be beautiful and artistic rose petals. But my dirty minded friends played the Va jay jay card and now I can’t get that thought out of my head. Poor cupcakes.)

24th birthday! 068But seriously, look at my other, non phallic efforts… and remember this is coming from someone who pretty much can only cook a stir-fry. From a packet.24th birthday! 043

 

24th birthday! 047

I was also reminded, once again, how lucky I am to know the best people in the world. They were all there to celebrate with me. I really don’t know how I will cope without them next year… only they would think to buy me Taylor Swift tickets for my birthday, turn a cold night outside with blankets into a ‘Not Without My Daughter’ style charade and forgive me when I spilled their plate of Fairy Bread on the decking floor.

On another note..THANK YOU to the gorgeous Pia for the Superior Scribbler Award!

Superior Scribbler

Here are the rules of the Superior Scribbler Award:

1. Each Superior Scribbler must turn and pass on this award to 5 of the most deserved blogs.

2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the blog and name the author from which he/she received the award on his/her blog.

3. Each Superior Scribbler must display the award on his or her blog, and link to this post.

4. Each blogger who was awarded Superior Scribbler, must visit this post and add their name to the Mr. Linky. That way we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honor.

5. Each Superior Scribbler must post the rules to their blog.

I am tagging the following blogs:

…be happy anyway

First Three Chapters

Once upon a time…

Everyday Musings

 

 

I feel pretty happy most of the time. Not always the ‘sunshine and rainbows/it’s Springtime but acting like Summer/I just woke up and found Bradley Cooper/I think I just won the $90 million Powerball… ‘ brand of happy, but quite content.

However, a few moment have occurred in the past couple of days which are making me feel deliriously right now. Most of those moments involved sun (if only a little bit), amazing vanilla slice, belting out road trip music and sweet wine picked up while traipsing around wineries.

But all of those moments have included a wonderful, fabulous gaggle of friends.

Three of those girls I have known since I was 12, when we wore school dresses that reached our ankles, read Dolly magazine and ate fundraising Cadbury chocolate bars, Cheds and Coke for lunch. (Actually, not much has changed on the lunch front…) These girls know the back story, the characters in the pointless stories of my life and the in-jokes. They remember my machine gun laugh, my joy when I finally moved house and my blue and yellow themed 13th birthday party (I had a matching cake. It rocked).

The other girls I met in Uni, at a time when I missed my sheltered high school, at a stage when I was afraid that everything was changing. Over cheap sandwiches and Diet Coke, we discussed where we had come from and where we were going. We wanted the same things and worked to get them. We danced, drank and shared experiences we now see as legend. We talk daily. They have morphed into being my sisters and my mentors.

I feel so happy when I think about how I have these people in my life. Over the past few days we have holidayed together and now my friends are friends with each other. Which is why I’m crazy in love with the world. Cue Beyonce`…

black white melbourne

Melbourne, I’m trying. I really am. And you are doing things to lure me in, to like you a little bit each more, by displaying something you know I can’t resist. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. You’re sneaky like that.

You know I like Sydney much more then you. I know, I know, it displays absolutely no loyalty on my part. It’s just that Sydney thrusts such obvious beauty. The long warm days, frangipani growing through fences at Bondi. The Manly ferry. The Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Opera House. The trains with those seats that flip around, so you can always face your friends on the ride home. I mean, how can I not like it?

sydney fireworks

But then you go and give me sunsets that are peak through Winter clouds and fill up my whole kitchen with orange light. You let the Nightrider bus drop me safely outside my house after a big night in your centre and you only ask for $3 in return. You open a Lindt chocolate cafe, invite good musicals to play (you KNOW I love ‘Mary Poppins’! You’ve done your research…) and light up the trees in Collins steet to match.

As the days become milder and longer, when your freezing Winter mornings disappear, you know I won’t be able to help myself. You will gently offer picnics in the Botanical gardens, suck me in with Spring Fashion Week and lazy afternoons eating gelati from my balcony while I watch the skyscrapers light up in your city scape.

When Summer rolls around you know that you’ll really have me. I’ll probably be helpless then. It will be our last Summer together for a while. The last of the hurried afternoons searching for the perfect fascinator for the Spring Races. The last trip to stand behind the queue while watching the lolly coloured puppets dance inside the Myer Christmas windows.

Distance will make the heart grow fonder. By the time I return  we will inevitably be in lust, if not love. And Melbourne, you will have won.

Yep, I reckon the song is right. The best things in life ARE free. Or can probably be found at Mimco.

My thoughts on this?

Expressing my love of places through cupcakes. (I arrived back from a road trip to Metung today. It’s worth it, even if it takes 4 hours to get there).

Expressing my love through cupcakes

Roadtrips to places that involve a pier. And feature places praised with cupcakes. And some of my fave people. I peered into the water here yesterday and spotted a big black crab waving his claw at me! (Plus I displayed my superb, ahem, athletic skills as I dodged my friends attempts to push me in.)

Metung pier

Lazy days and board games.

Trivial Pursuit

Celebratin’ (this pic is from the Melbourne Cup, although I am up for this at ANY time!)

n697231344_1410106_2136

Singstar until my ability to even speak has diminished.

Singstar

Returning home and my bro has left the house relatively clean. Maybe the no parents thing will work for a short while…maybe.

kat

It almost doesn’t feel real, that story.

It has whirled and fluttered around your whole childhood. Snippets of it have emerged during long car trips and balmy Summer nights spent chatting in the backyard. Sometimes those same snippets stung you, because their story seemed so easy. So sweetly unexpected.

And from the way you hear it, it was.

They were your age, those two. They didn’t really think they would meet anybody that night, at that function. But they attended it just in case. You wonder what she was wearing. Whether it was her petite figure, her bright frilly dress or flashy eyes which initially caught his attention.

She was back in the real world, after making a brave choice to leave her life as a nun three weeks earlier. He had long hair which his mother hated. It sounds made up. It isn’t.

Somehow, they started talking. She gave him her number on a scrap of paper, which he still carries in his wallet thirty three years later. It’s see through now. I guess paper is more permanent. Nobody can delete it from their phone at the press of a button. They started to go out. She tells you how they argued a lot at the start. About their beliefs and what they thought life was all about.

He says that he knew after two weeks that they would get married. He waited another month before he proposed, so he wouldn’t look like he was crazy. When he did ask her, after driving to the top of a mountain in the country, she slapped his face and said no. Turns out she did think he was crazy. But half way down the mountain she asked he was thinking straight, and she changed her mind.

She resembled Snow White on her wedding day. All peaches and cream complexion, perfect hair curled under her white veil. His suit was a sign of the times, blue velvet with a ruffled shirt. More of an Austen Powers look. He insists it was cool back then.

Slowly but surely they worked, tried to do the right thing, had two children, built a house and were good to their own parents. They watched their friends go on overseas trips while they held out for a rainy day.

And now that day has come. The karma has paid off. They left this morning for the European holiday they always dreamed of. I am so happy for them.

Sometimes my mum doesn’t understand why this story hasn’t happened to me yet. After all, it happened to them. I try to explain that they are the lucky ones. That having this story is like being struck by lightning.

And inside I hope and pray, as I go on bad dates and kiss frogs, that lightning strikes the same place twice.

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.

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