Friday, 5 October 2012

Bombing out.

The importance of equality and being nonjudgemental has been drilled into me throughout my uni studies. Curiously, less so during high school where, ironically, the message would create the most impact. Nevertheless, it has sunk in, and I am painfully aware of some things said off-hand by those around me (older generations in particular). Though it is not only an interesting comparison of different social groups/ages/cultures.... every now and again, a thought slips out that borders on downright judgy. So I thought I'd share one of them with you.

Some of the people I work with when I volunteer have had a very difficult time obtaining a job. Or, more specifically, a job in which their primary employment competition are not school kids (think retail, hospitality). When examining the sheer array of jobs applied for, the look of desperation and exasperation on their faces, I cannot help but see a common theme (well, there is two, but given that addiction affects people from all sections of the community, I discount it here).
The theme is this: they did not finish school. And, finances aside, goodness me it limits what they can do.

I understand why the Government is so hell-bent on keeping kids in school, or if not, sending them into a trade. My mother, bless her, knows this better than anyone. Indeed, neither of my parents finished year 12. Instead, dad entered the police academy, and mum the workforce.
Her experiences, and I suspect limitations, are what drive her to throw us three kids into further study of something. Anything. My sister will become an artist. One does not need qualifications to do so, but it sure as hell looks good on the resume, to discover that the pretty redhead with the prettier drawings has had some professional training.

But I digress. Seeing people in their 30s and 40s, unable to find a job that they either 1, would love to do, or 2, simply one they can maintain, is heartbreaking. Especially so when you see how much they want to work.
So when I hear of children (for that is what they are in the eyes of the law) leaving school at 14, 15, 16, to work full time in retail, supermarkets and the like, I cannot help but want to box them over the ears and yell 'you might see it as pointless now, but you will regret it later if you pull out now!'
My boyfriend did just this, got 6 months into a chef apprenticeship, realised he hated it, and then couldn't go back to school (such is the way of the UK education system). He regretted dropping out within a year of doing it. Having said that, many people find a profession, and work their way up. Said boyfriend could well become a state manager of a big transport business in Australia if he keeps working like he does.
But how many people leave school prematurely and never gain a skill or qualification. They might be pieces of paper, but once learnt, it's a skill valued for life. Why throw that away?

Monday, 24 September 2012

Something's gotta give.

The number one down-side to being an introvert is... being an introvert.
It doesn't really matter whether one calls it a lack of social skills, or simple shyness, I've been told I am both shy and socially stunted.
However, I'd say it's a personality trait, given that I've always had a hard time making close friends. I'm too abrasively honest with some people, and too shy with others. Both have cost me friends.
I look at photos of parties I declined, simply because it would have meant seeing people I burned bridges with, and have too much awkward history, rather than go and catch up with the people I miss and havent seen in 2 years. What the hell?!
The psychology side of my brain sits there and knows exactly what I have a hard time with, and how to go about fixing it: it should be a simple case of taking a deep breath and throwing myself in the deep end. While it may take conscious, exhausting effort at first, it will soon become second nature. BF Skinner went out and spoke to something like 20 strangers a day until he could do it naturally. With practice, he made himself more extroverted. Yet, something holds me back, like when you catch your breath on something as you exhale. And then you can't.
Mike reminds me every once and again, in his annoyingly frank tone, that if I don't make the effort I'm going to end up sad and alone. Never mind the fact that I'd stick with the guy forever if I could. But, as narked off as his tone makes me (it reminds me of my mum), he's right. Something's gotta give. And soon.

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Thinking ahead.

Looking back at the last four months, I have a hard time reconciling simple logic with the sheer determination with which I went about my denial of reality. Now, however, it seems to have paid off. Whether that is due to the fact that if you want and hope for something hard enough it will happen, or whether there was a subconscious insight the rest of me knew nothing about..... or maybe it was just sheer luck that paid off. I don't know. I've always been a really lucky person, so I'm tempted to take the high ground and say I secretly have superpowers for global domination with my willpower. Or maybe I just got my stubbornness from my grandfather. There's that possibility, too.

What I am talking about, my friends, is the fact that exactly four months ago I was sat down and told my boyfriend was moving back to the UK in 48 hours, and wasn't planning on coming back out. It was devastating. Somehow, a strange twist of fate brought him back out here 8 weeks later, and things have been.... interesting, to say the least. Still, the dust has finally settled, and we're planning a trip to Scotland for Christmas and New Year. Once I'd gotten over the "yeah right, you're just yanking my chain, you big meanie", I've started to get rather excited about the whole prospect. Things have settled to the point of actually feeling like it's turning into a serious relationship. One that might keep going  years down the road, and involves a Husky, renovating a house, and a kid to teach how to play Football. I always was slightly old-fashioned at heart with where I want my life to end up: gimme a house, husband, dog and a baby and I would be one very happy lady.

A slightly less expected result of all this talk about travelling (and the subtext of getting a puppy) is that I've started to feel all gun-ho about using it as a test-run for the future. I've been told a lot of people go there, fall in love with it, and don't leave. I suspect that view's a little biased, given that it came from the most proud Scot I've ever met. But still, he has a point. So, instead, it may well be time to see if I can hack the cold weather, understand the accent, and maybe make a go of living abroad after I graduate.

Who knows, I might even be able to use some of that lucky nature to get me a scholarship do a PhD or Masters at Edinburgh, Glasgow or Abertay University. Dream big, or not at all, right?

After all, in the end life is one big adventure, and there's no hurt in trying.

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Ohai Spring, I missed you

 Praise the Lord, the Sun's out!!!!
The last few days have been the most glorious welcome to Spring I can remember for a long time (from memory, it poured for a week straight last year). 26C today, and actually managed to lay on the grass in the sun with an Orwell novel for an hour. Think I got a bit of a tan from it, too.
Jeez I've missed the sunshine. I have friends who just roll their eyes and smile, others think I'm a little strange, but being in the sun gets me excited. About everything. I have a habit of standing in the sun, eyes closed, face raised to the sky, arms outstretched, like I'm waiting to give the sky a hug. I had an ex who called it photosynthesising. A slightly more callous (albeit accurate) term would have been to call me a cold-blooded reptile - I need to be in the sun to warm up to life in general.
Things are always better when it's warm and sunny. Bad news never seems as bad, stress is never as severe when one is shading one's eyes from the glorious golden rays.
Admittedly, I have noticed that the sun's bite has grown substantially over the last few years, and I suspect this year will be a scorcher (yay!). Here's hoping everyone remembers the sunscreen.

This time of year is my favourite, because even though everything is piling on (Major assignments, the success of which will determine my admission in to 4th year, are all due in the next month), and stress levels should be through the roof, it is so much easier to just take a breath, step back and smell the roses. Or wattle, as my case is. I just wish I had Gus to walk.
Rani, my other dog, has been extremely sick of late. Half a dozen trips to the vet, a biopsy, ultra sound and multiple drips later and we still have no clue what's wrong with her, and it's been seriously freaking me out. Having said that, she's definitely on the mend, a conclusion come to by the simple fact that she has begun hovering whenever there is food about. Especially biscuits. She loves bikkies. I've never seen anything get so excited over a Ginger Nut. Never thought I'd be pleased to see that behaviour, but hey, here we are.

Sadly, the forecast for the rest of the week is looking less than promising, but given the past weekend, rain and 17C is an acceptable compromise for another lovely weekend coming up. What I do know is that with the warmth comes a happy Olivia. Given the grumpy, unforgiving state I've been living in the last month and a half, it's a miracle I have a family or boyfriend still around.
Still, sunshine solves all.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Wanted: A new furry companion.

My boyfriend has always had a thing for Huskies. There's always talk of getting one as soon as he's got his own place, and I get a new photo every couple of days of one for sale, adoption or just general cuteness. I told him I'd babysit while he was at work, and possibly pinch the dog while I was at it. He wasn't impressed. I think he knows I'm not kidding.
Having said that, I myself am more a Staffy girl, though admittedly I am still grieving over the fact that my beautiful little Man is living happily with another family somewhere, with no idea how much I miss him. Never really understood how attached people can get to animals until we had Gus. I mean, we've always had at least one dog, even from before I was born, but he was really special.
Mike knows this last little bit, and thus chose to take me into a pet store on Rundle Mall last week. I dont know whether the move was meant as a bonding experience (given that we both want dogs, and, ideally, they'd be one and the same and living under one roof), or as torture. Apparently there's a designer dog called a pugalier (there's one pictured). They were the CUTEST thing I've ever seen. Even cuter than a baby hedgehog. That's right, I'm pulling out the big guns with this one.

Who wouldn't be sad at losing a face like this?!
I don't know what it is about the idea of getting a dog that I love so much. Maybe it's watching couples potter along the beach with a furry bundle of energy, maybe it's the fact that dogs symbolise a a long term thing (and I love stability), or just that I love how pups will love you unconditionally no matter what else is going on - they're the most reliable friend you'll ever have. Regardless of which is the main motivator, the end is simple: I want a puppy.
Then again, I also want to move out, have a house of my own with Mike, and have a full time job. Sadly, of these, geting a dog is on the bottom of the list - gotta have somewhere to put the tyke, and some way to feed it, right? For now, at least, I'll have to live with just looking at photos.

Friday, 17 August 2012

Growing Up.

I was in the car with a friend last week, on our way to dinner, when the topic of houses came up. Several people we both know have moved out of home, or are about to. I asked him if he planned to do the same (I envy having the financial freedom to have it as an option, but also am beginning to enjoy living at home and don't really want to leave). He said he was thinking about saving up a bit more and then putting a deposit on a house. A deposit. On a house. It was at this point that it hit me: we're becoming grown-ups. Actual, real, bill-paying, salary-earning, responsibility-holding adults.
 I should point out that both he and I are twenty, and he is he first person I know that actually has the ability to talk seriously about the prospect of buying property. Lucky bastard.

I suppose, if you look at it like somebody with half a brain, everyone crosses that threshold at some point. Indeed, being twenty years old seems like a fairly decent place to start looking for the moment to jump the proverbial family ship and start living for oneself as an independent individual.

On the same note, my boyfriend's started talking like an adult, too, over the last three weeks, and actually following through with it. Granted, a lot has happened over that time, but I'm not sure what was the final clincher. He's got his head screwed on now and is putting it to good use. I'm finally seeing what he's been talking about for the last 6 months put into action, and to be honest, it's exciting. Not in the jump-up-and-down-at-the-idea-of-candy type exciting, but the thought of me, him a house and a puppy isn't looking so pie-in-the-sky anymore.

Add to these the fact that most of my friends are graduating university at the end of the year, and are already thinking about Masters degrees and real full-time employment. (I should like to point out that, sadly, I won't be joining them just yet, given that I have another year to go before graduating. Yay for Honours?)
Speaking of which... Had a meeting about said final-year yesterday. Given that I had already read the online information, attending was pointless for the most part.... until the very last question of the day. The conversation was trending towards organisation and time management being the most important  factor in doing well, with the insinuation being that one cannot do anything bar study for two semesters. Directing her question to a past student, a girl two rows down asked, "So, you didn't work during your honours year?" The graduate burst out laughing, took a breath and said, "No, God, no."
She fired back, "So how did you live?!"
"Centrelink," He grinned, "And I lived at home with my parents."
I rolled my eyes and thought to myself 'well, there goes volunteering and any kind of social life'
Still, despite my irritation at the attitudes the director and students were conveying, I still have to stop and think: I have been waiting for this next 12 months for the last 4 years. It's been the most exciting part of my future, and it's nearly here. Holy crap.

It's the beginning of the end, and at the other side, is the start of the rest of my life.
So much is going to change, everything is going to be turned upside-down, and tipped back up again. It's a scary thought and yet incredibly exciting at the same time, and I for one can't wait!

Monday, 13 August 2012


The sky is grey outside, though not dark enough to hold a serious threat of rain. Somewhere over the other side of the roof is a clear patch - sunlight hits the damp pavers and the table and outdoor umbrella cast shadows along the wall. Wind chimes jostle gently against each other as they are caught by a slight breeze. Somewhere, a single bird is chirping.
The constant whirring from the fridge and washing machine are the only noises in an otherwise silent house. It feels like the calm that accompanies a storm, though whether it follows last weeks events, or precedes another emotional rollercoaster, or is simply the eye of the storm, I do not know.
What I do know, however, is that it is calm. For now at least.
For the first time in what feels a while, the thoughts that accompany my daily grind, albeit racing ahead at a million miles an hour, have slowed, if not stopped altogether. Maybe then, perhaps it is not the quiet around me that is so unsettling, but that within me.
It is somewhat disconcerting, being so used to so much noise, to suddenly feel like I've had earmuffs put on, so that I can only hear my breath and heartbeat, while everything else is painfully dim.
I feel slow. Maybe that's the dehydration and tiredness talking. I hear one is as bad as the other for cognitive function, let alone both in combination.
I don't feel like me. Or, maybe, this is the start of finding me? I don't know. It's almost like... I've spent so long running ahead, something has finally pulled me back and is making me live in the present, and only the present. I hear some people call it Mindfulness. Jury's still out on that one.
A wise friend told me last week that she thought I would find myself this year. Listening to her life experience has taught me not to question things like this. I didn't really believe it then mind you. Now, however, I'm not so sure.
Something tells me that the next 14 months are going to leave me standing at the finish line a different person.

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Over-inflated sense of self, perhaps?

I have, somehow, lost all motivation to do any kind of work. Given that it is only the second week back, and the feeling has already hit, I'm vaguely concerned. To be perfectly honest, I can't get my head out of "let's find a well-paying job" mode. Not surprisingly, the jobs in question require me to focus on my work, get it done, and hand it up. Study, at this point, is a means to an end. Wow, it's actually come to that.
Then again, my weeks currently consist of two language/writing courses, advanced research methods (I'd say stats, but it doesn't involve stats in the slightest) and an Intro level course in psychological assessment. This last one was meant to be the highlight of my semester but it turns out that, while important to know, it's also painfully dry stuff.
The research methods is looking to be the most exciting of the lot. This in itself is excruciatingly sad, as it has a reputation of difficulty and overall scariness. I suppose it makes more sense now, why I'd rather be out gardening, or watching the Olympics.

I've always been a huge fan of the Olympics. But four years is a long time in which to grow up and gain a few new perspectives. Not in regards to the games, mind you, but to Australia's media coverage of it. Granted, the time difference makes it harder, but all that is shown to those with free-to-air telly is the end highlights - there is no such thing as a whole game, and heaven forbid they show something that doesn't involve Australians. I saw Foxtel's coverage on the weekend - coming from a non-Foxtel household (its been  months and I'm still working out how to use the remote), my sports-viewing will never be the same again. Shame on you, free-to-air.
On another note, it's a little embarrassing seeing how hyped up it was only to watch the teams crash and burn at the hands of other countries that were, frankly, just better at it. It seems that somewhere along the line, Aus got the impression that we were a big-league player in the global field. We're not. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bagging my the country (my boyfriend does that enough for the both of us), I'm just wondering if this will be a reality check for a lot of people.
I suppose the mental shout of 'suck it up princess' may be considered a little callous. Then again, the devastation might have been lessened if it wasn't drilled in that all Aussies are going to win everything.
(can you tell I'm not much of a patriot?)

I'll leave it there for today simply because I could write for a few hours at a time right now. Some things are rarely done in the absence of attempting to procrastinate. This is one of them. Alas, there are books to read and notes to write.
Until next time.

Wednesday, 25 July 2012

"You're such a nerd." "Why thank you"

I have always been one to dive into books, study, research (etc.). From the posts below, it isn't difficult to see that just seems to be a personality trait I've somehow developed (probably from dad, I'd say).
 And so, as one might expect, given modern society's dual-standards about being studious - nobody wants to be the 'dumb' jock, but if you have half a brain but lack the social skills, you're screwed*-, I have been called a nerd on a number of occasions.

* One might argue that the bully-esque behaviour typical of many of the former mentioned people is also a sign of slightly demented social skills - I mean, who likes being publicly humiliated, anyway?

While it used to really s**t me off, recently I've come to take it as a form of endearment, even if it isn't intended to be so.
"Why?" You may ask, "Why would you find something like that to be a compliment? Isn't it a label of social rejection"
Well, once upon a time, yes, yes it was. And then I was read this quote, by John Green.
“Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan. Why is that?' In fact, it seems to me that most contemporary insults are pretty lame. Even 'lame' is kind of lame. Saying 'You're lame' is like saying 'You walk with a limp.' Yeah, whatever, so does 50 Cent, and he's done all right for himself.” 

Closely followed by this...

“…because nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff… Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself love it. Hank, when people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is ‘you like stuff.’ Which is just not a good insult at all. Like, ‘you are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness’.”

This last one was something of an epiphany for me, mainly because I AM enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness - To the point where I'm more or less studying it at uni, preparing for a lifetime career in studying it!
I AM enthusiastic about things. Almost to a fault sometimes (that, and it's pretty easy to burn-out when one is jumping up and down about something whole months in advance.) If I could find a way to turn enthusiasm into an energy source, I've got my own self-sustaining heat source :) Hello Nobel prize?

I see nothing wrong with valuing intelligence, and being fascinated by new discoveries. We can't all fit the apathetic-and-slightly-bogan Aussie stereotype.
They just proved the God-molecule exists. I know nothing about it (granted, I may have even incorrectly named it), but how cool is that!!!!

How does the term "life-enthusiast" sound? Possibly a little too pro-life-ish, but on the right track.
Foster your inner nerd, people! Get excited about the little things that genuinely excite you, even if that's something as simple as new stationary, or as complicated as learning to renovate a house for the first time, or even managing to grow a vegetable garden, or design some really cool fan art (most things, I should point out, I am over the moon about -- who doesn't like new pens?!!)

From one inner nerd to the rest of the world,
Peace out!

Monday, 2 July 2012

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

When I was young, I went to a Montessori pre-school, but was moved to a public primary school as soon as I hit reception age.  I finally found out why:

"Livvy, I put you in mainstream school because when you were little, your idea of relaxation time was to go and get a workbook out of the cupboard and do that."

My mind flashes  to the puzzle book on my bedside table, and textbooks all over the desk, which I've been noting for the last 2 days, because I don't feel like playing video games.

"... Mum, I STILL do that."

Good to know that I've always been like this, and it isn't some defect in my upbringing or schooling that makes me an introvert. It's just who I am :)

Friday, 25 May 2012

One down, Twenty six to go

So Mike left on Monday.  Can't say I'm at all keen to repeat the experience ever again. At least at an airport, if you look like you've been crying people assume you've just said goodbye to someone - much less weird than if it's at a restaurant. It's almost a relief, how few people have actually asked about the whole thing. Then again, his friends are cynical and don't seem to like me, and most of mine either don't know, or don't care. For once, I'm actually preferring it this way - it leaves me alone with my thoughts, and saves me from making a fool of myself... for now.

Turned 20 on Wednesday. Wasn't overly thrilled about the whole thing, but I put that down to apathy and missing Mike than anything else. Didn't go through the 'Woah, I'm not a teenager anymore' thing that a few friends seemed to experience at their birthdays. Mind you, the massage and Versace perfume from the siblings, and the new boots that Mum and I have yet to shop for did make for a nice material distraction from feeling like shit. As did dinner. I've spent so much time on the outside of the family, it was weird, being in the middle of it. Then again, they know I need them at the moment, so Mum's been really good about everything.

Heading into the final week of Hell with uni. Have to go try explain to a course Co-Ord why I haven't started the hardest assignment of my life that, coincidentally, is due on Friday week. Hello no social life for 6 days. If I'm lucky, he'll give me an extension of a few days, but I'm not holding my breath.

At the moment, the only thing keeping me going is the little red numbers in my diary, counting down the weeks until the end of next semester's exams. In other words: the number of weeks that I have to wait until I take my first solo flights, visit the UK for the first time, and get to see Mike and his family again. 26 to go. fml.
The aim: keep so crazy busy that I barely remember what day it is, and then BAM, November rocks up.
I admit, I'm slightly worried that I'll end up bailing on uni, and staying over there. I think Mum's a bit worried about the same thing. Then again, I'm pretty selective with what I say to her purely because I know the trouble it will cause, and it's insanity to leap into what is unequivocally uncharted territory for me. Then again, I was never really altogether 'there'. Still, it's a lot to throw to the side, and unless I win the lottery in the next little while, an international transfer is out of the question. Damn you, exchange rate!!

Time to stop procrastinating and actually go to uni.
'Til next time.

Thursday, 3 May 2012

Away from home

Living at at home only half the time puts a strain on the parent-daughter relationship, I can tell you! Primarily because my folks are of the conservative school of thought, and believe that if one spends that much time at someones house, they should be moving in there. Naturally, the idea of moving out of home, and especially into Mike's current house, is laughable. Actually, the idea of moving out with him at all makes me laugh. We'd rip each other's heads off at the moment.
It's a strain on the purse, too, eating out, going out in general, living out of a car. You know, that old thing.
So I set myself a goal of staying at home every night this week until Saturday. Naturally, that lasted three nights, until I gave in to the goofy sensation that is missing sleeping next to someone. And there we were. Despite that lapse, this is the longest number of consecutive nights I've stayed at home in..... I don't know how long. Probably a couple of months at least. Mum being Mum, she isn't exactly thrilled with the way I decide my sleeping arrangements. My point of defence is thus: I for one don't appreciate waking up in the middle of the night, three separate times in some cases, mid-sleepwalk. Why am I sleepwalking? Because I can't find Mike, and there isn't anything bigger than a teddy to cuddle. Oh well.
A somewhat unexpected side effect of being away from the family routine is that it makes it all the better when I am here. Dinner is better, there are actually things to talk about with dad and the sibs. Makes me appreciate it more, you know?
I guess sometimes you dont know how lucky you are to have the things you take for granted, until they stop being such.

Monday, 16 April 2012

Everything's getting real now. I don't like it.

I have led a gloriously sheltered life, relatively free from money stress, and with opportunities possible, with a bit of work. Unfortunately, Real Life isn't like this, and I'm beginning to realise it now more than ever.

I have 18 months of my degree left, after which I will be hurled  into said reality. Finding a job is a scary prospect, primarily because 1) I don't know exactly where I want to go with it, 2) there are very limited opportunities for a decent paying job post- psych-degree, purely because one is only half qualified (fml.), 3) I want to make some money rather than going straight into post-graduate study, and 4) I want to follow Mike to the UK and work there.

The last of these poses the most difficulty: the British Psych Society makes my Aussie degree more or less redundant. /sigh/ There is the option of some kind of masters over there.... If I was able to find enough money to live on and study over there, and provided I was offered a place. It's kind of a weird circle, can't do one without the other, but need both to get the ball rolling. Not to mention the fact that Australia is nowhere near Scotland.

I bought a new MacBook today. I've never owned an Apple computer, and haven't used one in three years, so it's going to be a massive crash course in how to use the OS again. I'm already regretting buying it, because I used my Flights money to do so, and mum's gone back on her offer of paying for some of it as an early birthday present. I dont think it's possible to save $2300 in 2 months, not when I only earn about 14k/year. I need tax time to come around, I need that cheque, or I will by July.

After weeks of talk, Mike's finally bought his flights. Went in to buy a CD, came out with a One-Way ticket for the 11th of May. Funny how things work sometimes. His moving home, I can live with that. I can even live with the fact that it is literally on the other side of the world. It's the prospect of being without him that I can't.

As he said last night, 'When you date someone when youre sixteen, seventeen, you have fun, but you know it isn't going anywhere, it has to end at a point cause it'll never work out, you know? I dont feel that with you.'
To outsiders, that may well sound trivial, or stupid, but to come from him, someone so averse to 'Serious', that's huge. We've been together 4 months yesterday, and it's taken that long for him to voice what I know has been sitting under the surface all along, and what I've been too cautious to explicitly say myself, at the risk of looking like a fool. Who finds their Someone at 19? 20?
I work at weddings most weekends, and each is an insight into the couple's relationship: how they met, how long they've been together, and how theyve managed keep it that way. As one bridesmaid said "we knew she was serious about the guy when she transferred her job to Kuala Lumpur, and then to England, to be with him, after 3 months of seeing each other."
It surprises me how many of the couples have been together as long as they have, considering many are in their late 20s, early 30s. One couple met on a sofa at uni in their final year, and were together 9 years before getting married. I think their story is my favourite, because it smacks of Fairy Tale.
I dont listen to speeches anymore, because I am too emotionally charged to maintain a poker face, and nobody likes a weepy barmaid.

It's been one of the toughest emotional roller coasters I've ever ridden. And I take a step back and dont even have to ask myself, 'is it worth it?', because I know the answer is unequivocally yes. He makes me reevaluate everything, and if we can make it work, I have this niggling feeling that I've found my Someone.

Friday, 3 February 2012

Goodbyes aren't really so.

What do you say to someone who, when they're around, makes you a better version of yourself?

"Nice job"?
What if it will be the last words you utter to their face for, at the least, 3-4 months, at most, forever?
Would it be an avalanche of barely-decipherable chatter, or a single utterance?
A lot can be said with a few words, and a few words can mean a lot.

What do you give to someone that, when they see it, or hold it, all they think of is you?
Sentimental teddy bears? Pretty rings?
I have a necklace. A beautifully simple New Zealand jade pendant on a leather loop. It isn't mine, but I have it, despite trying to give it back.
It's a lot easier to give something to a girl. I, for one, wear the pendant with just about everything, and have begun to habitually pull on it whenever I'm stressed, or thinking am about Mike (usually one either induces, or soothes the other).
But what to give, that sums up everything?

I have two weeks -less than two weeks- before my boyfriend returns home to Scotland. I don't know for how long. With the way I feel about him, I'm devastated by this, though I know I can't change anything, so am making an effort not to let it show too much. With two years of this degree left (which I can't transfer to Dundee- I already looked into it), and his overall uncertainty about life in general, it makes for a very dificult situation. All I know is that I'm foolish enough to still believe in the power of the Human Mind. Where there is a will, there is a way.  I tried explaining (tentatively) the plan of long distance to mum - he'll be there setting himself up, I'll be here, focussing on study (which, really, is just as well, because it's one less distraction to be had on the path to HDs), and then I'll go over for three weeks in July.
July..... It sounds so far away....  half a year away, in fact. Think I'll count it down in weeks - might feel like it's actually progressing faster that way.
Regardless, denial is a beautiful thing, and the only thing keeping it all together right now, is knowing that I don't actually lose him, even if hes on the other side of the world.

We're going to make this work....


Wednesday, 25 January 2012

One day.

One day I'll travel the world, do great things, win awards for the cool new something-something i've discovered in the brain.
One day I'll teach, own my own practice, get married and have kids. Buy a house, or four.
One day I'll be the head of my family, the oldest, the most responsible.

But not today. For now, I'm content just being a girlfriend, a teenager, who goes to the beach, plays with the dog, a smiling girl behind the Bakery counter who happens to make nice coffee.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Finally, real summer.

Finally, Adelaide is having somewhat of a heatwave. I can say this with certainty because there's a 70% chance of getting burnt standing outside for more than 5 mins, and my boyfriend, ever the Scottish patriot, wont stop complaining about the heat. Personally, I' like to be be out in it for most of the day, but this could be attributed to my ability to apply sunscreen, and seek bodies of water wherever possible (had my head in the laundry sink today, was the closest to a pool I can get lately).
I have to admit, I'm beginning to appreciate the hell that must be living on the Adelaide Plain -- the Hills get a different, less suffocating kind of heat - we have a cooler breeze, for one thing.

Australia day on Thursday. For the first time in three years I'll actually be able to do something. Admittedly, it appears it shall involve working 8- 1.30, possibly the beach (yay!), finished up by heavy drinking with several Scots (because, clearly the cool thing to do is chill with your partners parents mates). The latter worries me slightly, for several reasons.
1. I haven't drunk seriously in a long time, so my usual title of Lightweight has now been upgraded to Teetotaller, and Glaswegians are known for their ability to drink anyone under the table.
2. This means that I'll be drunker a lot faster, and thus be my usual squeaky, loud, slightly clumsy drunken self.... in front of le bf's parents, who, so far, seem to like me. I'd like to keep it that way.
3. I have to work a wedding the following afternoon, and 10 hours of catering work is tough, let alone while hungover.

Uni goes back in a month, and I'm chewing at the bit - this year will shape where my Honours Thesis comes from, I'd just like to have some kind of idea now, rather than a vast mass of fog where my future should be visible. I suppose this is what happens when you're given all the choices in the world, 25 words on each, and said you can pick any one you like.

I never was the best at making decisions.

Friday, 13 January 2012

Is he worth all this, is it a simple yes? Cause if you have to think, it's fucked.

It's a sudden heartbeat in your throat, faster and faster. 
It's adrenaline: you can feel it pulsing in your fingers, making the itch to move even stronger.
It tastes bitter, and you fight to maintain composure.
You fail.
Breaths come faster and faster, shallow, hyperventilating.
Turn around wildly, feeling the carpet beneath your toes,
Staring at the walls of what now feels like a brightly-coloured prison.
The desire to run is overwhelming.
The soft chords of the music bring you back to reality.
Breathe deeper. Slower. Calm. Fight the panic.
Dappled light is still visible through closed eyes,
Changing the view from black, to pink and red.
Inhale. Exhale.
A snuffling noise and whiskers on your foot alerts you to the presence
Of a welcome little face, staring up in unconditional devotion.
Kneel down, take handfuls of short hair and folds of skin,
He leans in, and licks my neck - hugging back in the only way a dog knows how.
Oh to live a life where the most important thing is cuddles and the time of dinner.

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Better late than never.

This will be the fourth time I've tried to write in the last week. Something keeps holding me back, like some invisible force. It's like running into a doorway covered in gladwrap: the way seems clear then BAM, plastic in your nostrils.

As with most other years, I am attempting for the umpteenth time to get my room into order. Maybe I didnt do it last year because I was so hell-bent on getting out of my parents place, that redecorating an entire room seemed like an expensive waste of time. Upon realising that I earn not nearly enough money to do such a thing, I have resigned myself to the fact that I will need to get some sense of decency into this hell-hole, lest it eat me in my sleep.
Enter: IKEA.
Despite a sad lack of single bed frames, the place is amazing. I've got almost all my stuff picked out, I think I'm going to do a one-item-purchase-at-a-time type deal, so I can see it better, rather than spend 400 hours building the things, realising that they dont all fit in the room, and throwing in the Allen Key all together.

Whats the phrase.... cluttered house, cluttered mind? Something like that?
With the stress and worry of the last few days, plus sleep exhaustion from working pretty much all hours of the weekend, I could really do with a bit of calm cleanliness.

A few conversation in the past month have made me realise some things need to be removed entirely from my life in order to move on and be happy in said movement. Though, it's hard sometimes to maintain that sense of stability and overall calm.
You know why it's hard to be happy? Because it's hard to let go of the things that make me sad. 
But, nine days in the making, comes a new resolution, and a new enthusiasm to kickstart the baby steps, thus ensuring it happens:
  • No more dwelling on the crappy bits, remember to smile, and take stock every day of who and what makes my world a better place to live in.
  • Remember that some things are out of my control: if they are, do not spend all my energy obsessing over them - it just leads to a sour mood and premature exhaustion.
  • Do it: even if it's scary, terrifying. If you are truly mean it (whatever 'it' is), the fear is a springboard, not a barrier.
I'm sure the list will get longer as time goes on, and I discover, as a naturally highly-strung, slightly neurotic person, how to actually achieve these things.
After all - who doesn't want to be a happy, normal, human being?