~MONTH IN REFLECTION~
January has actually been quite unsettling in a number of ways, all of which are irrelevant and impossibly boring, so I will forget them!
Hurrah!
But also- you know what, January has been unsettling as crap. And it's all those little bits that roll into a massive ball, and then the ball rolls down the street behind you while you're trying to zen out on your ipod with your twenty dollar kmart runners on and your tight-as-fuck leggings clinging to your (immaculately) sweaty legs like that Lycra stuff- making you self conscious As Fuck- and just rolls and rolls and rolls, each step collecting a wayward spider, a wrinkly leaf, a ducktonne of dust, two hours of your time, every good thought you ever had in the space of forty four minutes, important legal papers, pieces of your outward projection of your inner self (which is not pretty, I can tell you), liquids that you were just about to consume, the very sleep cycle you rely on. And! If that weren't enough, It also rolls YOU into the ball as well (GROSS) (but plausible, and would be highly likely to feature in a documentary about my life), flinging you every-witch-way until your brain seems to be dripping out of your nose, or is that just snot? WHO KNOWS?! And there is this sequence of events that happen in this order every time: 1. Oh! That's what I have to do... 2. DUCK IT, what the MUCKSUCK is this doing here? 3. Damn it to hell, now I have to carry out this freakin task... 4. Well, I've done about as much as an older, wiser, prettier version of myself can nowadays handle, might as well check the ol interwebs for the relax I deserve... 5. ... aaaaaaand that's a whole five hours of my day and life I'll never get back.
Rinse.
Caffeinate.
Repeat.
It is a mess. But you know, every day it is getting sorted. The sludge is clearing, the debris sweeping, the age-old nonsense of keeping every single thing because maybe has somehow melted away, and order is restoring itself in that nice, neat way that order is associated with.
Holy FUCK I am dying for a coffee.
What the frick frack.
You know how you sometimes suddenly crave some taste really strong, as if the taste punched you in the buds? Well I have it. And it is coffee, which I shall not have because it's almost ten pm.
Dammit to fuck I want the coffee hella bad. So bad I believe I just experienced a sadness cramp because of.
My grateful list henceforth!
1. Myself. The end. Go home. Goodnight. ^____^
I am grateful for myself, I'm hardcore as all shit. I completed the one and only goal I ever had, which was buy a house. I have that little 'good for you!' voice inside my head. And you guys can have it, too! ALL I DID to achieve my goal was work out the exact steps I needed to take to get me there and then I took them. I broke off chunks and worked with that, one at a time.
~In relation to saving for a house, I saved 60-80% of my paycheck- as I was living with my parents- until I moved out, where I scrimped and saved and rarely bought clothes, went out for drinks on the town, spent money on trinkets, holidays, entertainment or other things. I still have a pair of track pants with holes the size of an egg on both buttocks because I used them that much, I wore my shoes until they physically were unable to be worn anymore- I even duct-taped my favourite pair of red slippers together and I still have them- and I accepted clothes from friends if they were throwing them out, consequently never really developing my own style.
I bought one or two finance books and borrowed the rest from the library, read the exact requirements for buying property in my country, fainted at the actual cost of things, downed a strong motha of a coffee, and worked with it. Calculated figures and etc, planned time-frames, and even though it all looked very hard, very time-consuming, and entirely unrealistic on my part-time low income wage, I just started and I kept at it.
~~The secret to all things is just keeping at it. Performing the right habits daily create successful people, and that's really all I did.
Sacrificed, saved, and kept visualising my goal. I cut out a picture of a house from a magazine, wrote 'I will get it', and stuck it in my wallet. It's really faded now, but I still have it.
~~~ The ONE thing that kept me on track was my burning desire to do it. Nothing will help you as much as the WILL to WANT to. And the fact that the house we were in was shitasfuck, with mould everywhere, framework falling apart, plumbing breaking down all the time, one room leaking buckets of water EVERY winter. So I had motivation, a burning desire, and determination to succeed. One of the main things I read about in that 'The Secret' book is not doubting your wish will happen. I had absolutely no doubt, as weird as it sounds, because I was doing everything on my end to make it happen. People go 'yeah right as if' and they tackle something without that absolution, therefore they only put maybe 50-79% of themselves in it, and it either doesn't work or it comes out dodgy.
DO NOT DO THE DODGY WAY. IT JUST SUCKS.
Amen.
Live it guys, you will all do amazing.
2. The people in my life. I love ALL OF YOU GUYS. Not the strangers, like if anyone really is reading this little ol bloggeroo, well thank you, and hope you find it somewhat decipherable, but not you guys because we haven't even met. Give it time.
I'm talking about my good friends and the people I know. There are many a peeps who have entered my life, and just kept walking, to exit at the side, and I tip my hat with a farewell and a 'how did that stain get there?' kind of expression (my hats aint what they used to be). It has been an almost flirtingly brief encounter and may we have the pleasure again.
But then there are the people who really come into your life and they punch your arm, or give you food, or make you laugh, mop your floor, tell you a secret, fix a lamp, do The Sex. And those people are the truest.
Bless all of you. In that non-christian-and-even-non-religious-of-any-way-because-CHRIST-this-will-most-definitely-probably-offend-at-least-one-person-reading. I just feel very honoured and blessed to be in everyone's lives HOLY CRAP IS THAT A GIANT WALKING- no it's just my housemate. I guess I'm not used to the sound of walking. OK THEN.
3. MY PETERBAE. CAPITALS. ALL THE WAY. Bro, how would I be. Not to mention that the fun times are very fun indeed.
Winkle.
I'm very thankful I never dated a fuckboy. That's for certain. Those are the worst. Let me tell you a thing: girls and women like the idea of a fuckboy, who is basically a dick to people, maybe a real badass, rides a motorcyle, wears leather, has a chain, lets his nails grow long, says 'I gotta gets me a milkshake', leans on walls instead of standing, and walks in a strut.
I say: exactly how hard is it to stand up on your own? Has your back malfunctioned? Do you need help? Maybe a masseuse??
What women and girls actually want in the realest is a badass fuckboy who is badass to the world, but treats them like a Queen. Ask them questions about their dress, bring flowers when you meet, comb your hair, smile at passing cows, always carry a Kleenex and some breath mints, never take your shoes off or put them on in her presence.
Demand to carry her over puddles, and perhaps even lug around a 10 meter royal blue mat to roll out whenever there is a chance of getting her shoes dirty. These are the things women want.
OR MAYBE THEY WOULN'T.
I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW.
~ All I'm saying is, I'm not the swooning type, but I have swooned, swooning is happening, there is a general airy feel about my person of some such swooning and I am ok with that because some people are worth swooning over.
Like hazlenut praline chocolate.
Well! I started off this blog with intent to write a list of things I am grateful for, for some UNKNOWN reason, because I was in a really grateful gushy mood, but now I'm tired like a sloth on NyQuil so I will wrap this up by saying that I am doing REALLY WELL with my no junk food eating this month. I've only purchased three junk food items and am sticking hard and fast to the 'eat the sweet if you didn't pay for it'. It's working out a treat. HUEHUEHUE.
Yes.
Ok.
~Tootleoo
____
/__\
v[^__$]v
Tuesday 30 January 2018
Tuesday 23 January 2018
Who was the girl with the dragon tattoo?
Hi, my name is Cerri, and I'm a robot.
.*.
Remember that time when I truly believed I could kick my junk food habit?
AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA
HAAA HAAA HA
Ok, but fo reals.
(~Thinks back to long ago [yesterday] when one whimsically indulges [it was planned] in a tiny apple roll [it was large, it was a turnover, it was filled to the brim and over with cream] and sighs in contemplated heavenly bliss [it was a burp, it was the most sinful thing around, there was no bliss, only monstrous regret])
And because of this, I have a newfound burst of energy that I will use to tackle these old and dusty goals I made almost two years ago! ^_^ ** ^_^ High five, me! Way to go! ..[It's actually a sugar high, and crashing down will happen sometime in abouuuuuut four minutes]
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THE LIST
# Run everyday- whether a light jog, full on pelt because the fear of numb toes propels you forwards into a hyperventilating frenzy, or just a casual walk in some fancy attire to attract the male gaze. Just exercise it and do it outside where the wind blows and the sun shines and the energy is nigh. (And avoid the 'attracting of the male gaze' on account of that you are currently taken. ... Yes. Remember this. (Although, if the male gaze really is attracted to my sweaty uncoordinated leg movements, undignified flapping of track pants, rhythmic ponytail swinging into face and annoyed grapple of Ipod to change song because I'm too lazy to update workout playlist, well! Who am I to refuse?!))
~~This happened! And then promptly stopped, so I will need to come up with some plan to get back into the swing, and then actually Get Back Into The Swing.
# Do ten push ups and ten sit ups everyday. Record this if you feel necessary and post on instagram or facebook. But mostly instagram. Actually avoid facebook. You know too many people on there. Actually, avoid posting it anywhere at all. Evidence of this atrocity does not need to exist.
~~ Jesus Christ this NEVER happened!! LMAO. YOLO. CHIPSFORLIFE #NEEDMAHSALTZ
# Drink two bottles of water a day. This is hard! The urge to pee is uncomfortable and at times inappropriate, but the water still has to be consumed to get all that brain matter working! The vibes must be happy and moist!
~Yes. In all seriousness, you feel 100 per cent ready to take on the world when you're hydrated. Consistently hydrated. None of this: two bottles in five hours then two days of nothing but coffee and wine nonsense. Or in my case: two hours of three glasses of water and then two days of five coffees each. THIS MUST END. HYDRATION WILL COMMENCE.
~~ You literally DO feel 100%. Past me rocks! So wise! Amazing hair! All the thin! (I'm becoming quite the chub these days, and I do not approve) I believe there was a time last year where I felt faint 83.24 per cent of the time because of 'who needs that much water? SCOFF!' And it really sucked. So, apparently I was that person.
This past week actually (in the ol January of 2018) (I forgot the blog posts have dates on them LOL) I have found the healing properties of cold water. I haven't tasted cold water, except in bottles bought from the store, since five years ago, and it has to end. ALSO, buying water has to end. Why buy water? When it comes free, clean, and delicious from a tap?? COME ON GIRLFRIEND.
# Eat more fruit and vegetables and avoid preservatives. This is the hardest thing to do ever when it comes to health. I'm sure. When shopping previously for only healthy, natural foods, I came home with fruit, vegetables, frozen vegetables, oats, eggs, nuts and bread. A day later I was like 'TWISTIES! MY LOVE! WHERE FORT ART THOU???' and I raced down to pick up my love, along with a tub of ice cream and some yoghurt, as well as some rice crackers and a dip of choice, some muesli bars, frozen quiche, a container of fruit juice and some peanut butter.
Eat 80/20. That's all I will say. And let the 20 be once a week. For myself, I'd like to go back to the old days when my grandparents were alive and try to eat like them because the people in the movies and posters back (even though in movies and posters) had different body shapes compared with us today. I feel as though they had more respect for food and belongings as well.
~I'd like to make a shopping list, stick to it every week, get the financials in order, and make the whole shopping experience a routine down pat.
~~ Bros, we ALL know this did not happen. Not in the slightest. I bought muesli bars? Shit me.
# Finish watching tv shows. These include, Gilmore Girls, Supernatural and Grey's Anatomy. Gilmore Girls will be easy because I'm halfway through season six and there are only seven seasons. Grey's Anatomy I'm only up to season four and there are twelve seasons! Supernatural I'm at season one. So. Yes.
Do that.
~~ THIS HAPPENED. HOLY FUCK. SO!! I have literally finished Gilmore Girls and watched the whole 'A Year in the Life' which shit me off to no end because Rory was a dickwipe who had sex with Logan even though HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND. Can I say it again, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE YOUTH TODAY. If I ever found out my son had done that I would SLAP HIS BITCH FACE. I'm pretty sure he never told his gf, because they were always sneakily sluttin around, although maybe I'm mistaken, but I remember feeling revolted and annoyed that this lovely Rory who I had admired was now this whore who messed her whole life up, so I'm assuming that I felt that way because of their secrecy. Total respect for consensual open relationships. Peace to you.
And! I have struggled my way through season two of Supernatural, which was ok from memory, and then pushed ever-faithfully on through season three, which gave me nightmares but I persevered, and then bounced happily into season four! I think it's because Castiel finally came in, so I had actual eye candy, like PHWOAR, you can rock a trench coat you amazing weirdo, get in my pants.
However, Grey's Anatomy became really depressing and a lot of the main characters died or were involved in misfortune. I got up to season 5 and thought, ummmm, nahhhh. But I would like to go back and watch it in an intermittent fashion.
So that was fun!
Nowadays, I have Netflix, (THANKS BAE! 💖) and I have religiously watched Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on repeat, up to current ep of The Good Place, and am just getting into Arrested Development.
Other series I want to watch include: The End of the fucking world, Black Mirror, Don't trust the B in apartment 23, The IT crowd, Stranger Things, Schitt$ Creek, the US The Office, Extras, Gypsy, Peaky Blinders, Bates Motel, Getting On, Sense8, Dance Academy, East Siders, and Call the midwife... just to name a few.
# Continue with my children's book. Now when I say continue, I mean sort out a story board for each page, work out illustrations, size, take to editor/publisher, etc, and get the whole ball rolling. Become famous! Take over the world, somehow, with books for children! Wear a tiara! Fly! Command someone to build a skyscraper of myself in a dressing gown and carrying a coffee cup, hair ruffled, squinty-eyed, stained slippers, maybe half a yawn, in memory of how I am and what it takes to be brilliant such as me! Even though I will still be alive.
~~ This also never happened! I do have a passion for creating silly tales that pretty much only children resonate with, but for some reason I just keep the draft copy and lug it all over my room to put in various spots when I do a clean out. Must get on this!
# Continue with my novel. Yes, I have a novel. It is in progress, and has been for about eight years, which I think is natural for a novel. The theme is fantasy and in my head I have planned most of the story, the ending, beginnings and interweaving of the five characters lives, and on paper I have written the characters profiles and parts of scenes. However, as with age comes adultness. I have adulted. I am now without such time for spontaneous writings and drawings, and as much as this saddens me, I declare sorrowfully that study and work have become a big part of my life at the present. Nursing does not allow for fantasies. It is a degree of study, preparation, facts, planning, and responsibilities. But aside from this, I would like to look over it whenever I feel slightly bored or wandering thoughts, to remember and perhaps get back into it again.
~~ Well nursing can suck my ass, because I quit! But not because of this novel. I just became really tired of helping everyone else except me, and one day I was driving in my car and I thought 'I don't even LIKE nursing. I hate going there! It takes up too much of my time, I'm always stressed about assignments and lack of money and getting a freakin car park in their tiny 'matchbox' sized carpark for 2,000 students. Why am I doing this? I don't even want to BE a nurse. I want to take people's blood, steal it away, store it in my underground lab, and experiment on people while I start my own super-race.' It took a lot of effort and a lot of deciding and moaning and crying and feeling like a fat losery failure and a disappointment to everyone at my job, my family, my friends, everyone except myself, because inside I was actually a bit numb. LOL. But I was. I had pulled my inner spirit up to be this 'nurse' person, acting, thinking, trying my hardest to be that person, and feeling dumb because obviously I was the entire opposite of this person. So it felt like someone had ripped out a piece of me. As well as having other parts ripped out of me, and the whole process was hard, tiring, and no point at all.
However, I DID look over my novel last year, and I actually wrote out a few notes and got stuck into the characters, which made me realise how fucked up they really are. I love them all, but they just break my heart because I already know what happens, I know their lives and the troubles they go through, and to be honest, it's just to be loved or fit in or find happiness. Of course, when I was writing this years ago I had no idea. But now, looking at it through fresh, grown-up eyes, I can see that this novel is going to be a bitch to write. It's going to take all my self-control not to get wholly enveloped to the point of drowning, just to reach deep into my little chasm of feelings and take out each one so they can be examined and blown up 1000x its size.
It's going to be a burst of creation, and I'm not sure how I will handle it.
# Continue with my fairy drawings. You must do this woman! There is no greater magic on this earth, I believe, than creating. As true love is a thing hard to find, I am skeptical. I believe few people find it. So that magic is rare. But creating anything, whether it be cakes, furniture, clothes, paintings, movies, etc, involves imagination and ideas, determination to work through the difficult parts, and a will to make it all come about in the end. I personally always feel so content when I'm drawing fairies. I feel as though I have purpose in life, even if I'm just creating a lamely drawn person with no hands.
~Do what makes you come alive! You will spread the magic!
~ This is actually really, very, extremely hard to do. I think about it often. I admire the artists I see and I realise I don't have to be the greatest. However, the INTERNET has completely taken over my brain. Yes, I'm blaming YOU, Internet, because I read somewhere that manufacturers make the mobile phone in such a way that when you look at it, you release endorphins. I am not okay with that. I demand you give ALL of my happy cells back to me, thank you and good day!
# Buy more clothes. I don't like shopping in general and for a long time I was saving up to buy a house. As I have recently made my dream come true by purchasing a house, I believe I can now spend some money on clothes. This means nice clothes! A jacket would be nice, for one! Seeing as how I left my last one in a pub! Amen.
~~ One good of the many about Bae is that I am forced to buy feminine, pretty, almost sexual, clothes. Thanks Bae! I open my wardrobe with the same ol 'hmmm, what to wear to the bfs house? Welp! I have nothing!'
Bag, Keys, Wallet, and we are out to shop!
But not really! That's not how it goes! Ahhaa, it's more of a grumbling reluctance, even if I do wish to appear vaguely mysterious and woman-like.
I did buy a jacket though, and it was expensive, and it looks reasonable. I approve in a general sense or not having a strong feeling of disapproval.
# Learn French, Japanese and German. The urge for German has probably passed for now, though, and Japanese is a meh one, but French would be delightful. This means actually putting languages on your Ipod and listening to them, actually saying them, doing this daily and regardless of people listening. Talking to people in your newfound language. Ordering food in the foreign tongue and confusing the wait staff. YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU WILL RULE.
~Maybe you shouldn't have had that last coffee?
~~ Can I say, that I drive to many places throughout my life, and last year I have driven to possibly many more than that because of my life -- yes...-- and YET! Even though I have two French audios on my ipod in my car, that we have established I spend a great deal of time in, I have not once listened to it.
Not. Once.
# Attempt pottery and play the guitar. Buy the guitar. Enrol in a pot-making course. Wrap it up, lady. This list is too long.
# Start playing volleyball. #Sign up at a martial arts class.
# Continue making jewellery. # Sell jewellery. # Start a jewellery business.
# Continue growing vegetables and fruit. # Upload photos of these fruits and vegetables.
# Finish my Nursing degree and find a job as a nurse who takes blood, such as Clinpath.
# Sew clothes. # Buy a sewing machine. # Do all the sewing. # Continue knitting for the homeless. # Actually finish a blanket to give to the homeless.
~~ I have not done any of these. Let's just call it a day and continue on with a strongass mofo of a coffee to get PUMPT.
I believe I can do a tafe course for blood collection (pathology) waaaaaay cheaper than a nursing degree worth over 30,000, which I can pay for upfront if I save up. This will save me stress, money, time, and the cringe factor every time I think about that hugeass looming hecs fee.
Also, I believe I have done my time of lounging around in bed, eating doritos, and singing Evanescence songs while watching 8 episodes in one day of one tv show.
# Run everyday- whether a light jog, full on pelt because the fear of numb toes propels you forwards into a hyperventilating frenzy, or just a casual walk in some fancy attire to attract the male gaze. Just exercise it and do it outside where the wind blows and the sun shines and the energy is nigh. (And avoid the 'attracting of the male gaze' on account of that you are currently taken. ... Yes. Remember this. (Although, if the male gaze really is attracted to my sweaty uncoordinated leg movements, undignified flapping of track pants, rhythmic ponytail swinging into face and annoyed grapple of Ipod to change song because I'm too lazy to update workout playlist, well! Who am I to refuse?!))
~~This happened! And then promptly stopped, so I will need to come up with some plan to get back into the swing, and then actually Get Back Into The Swing.
# Do ten push ups and ten sit ups everyday. Record this if you feel necessary and post on instagram or facebook. But mostly instagram. Actually avoid facebook. You know too many people on there. Actually, avoid posting it anywhere at all. Evidence of this atrocity does not need to exist.
~~ Jesus Christ this NEVER happened!! LMAO. YOLO. CHIPSFORLIFE #NEEDMAHSALTZ
# Drink two bottles of water a day. This is hard! The urge to pee is uncomfortable and at times inappropriate, but the water still has to be consumed to get all that brain matter working! The vibes must be happy and moist!
~Yes. In all seriousness, you feel 100 per cent ready to take on the world when you're hydrated. Consistently hydrated. None of this: two bottles in five hours then two days of nothing but coffee and wine nonsense. Or in my case: two hours of three glasses of water and then two days of five coffees each. THIS MUST END. HYDRATION WILL COMMENCE.
~~ You literally DO feel 100%. Past me rocks! So wise! Amazing hair! All the thin! (I'm becoming quite the chub these days, and I do not approve) I believe there was a time last year where I felt faint 83.24 per cent of the time because of 'who needs that much water? SCOFF!' And it really sucked. So, apparently I was that person.
This past week actually (in the ol January of 2018) (I forgot the blog posts have dates on them LOL) I have found the healing properties of cold water. I haven't tasted cold water, except in bottles bought from the store, since five years ago, and it has to end. ALSO, buying water has to end. Why buy water? When it comes free, clean, and delicious from a tap?? COME ON GIRLFRIEND.
# Eat more fruit and vegetables and avoid preservatives. This is the hardest thing to do ever when it comes to health. I'm sure. When shopping previously for only healthy, natural foods, I came home with fruit, vegetables, frozen vegetables, oats, eggs, nuts and bread. A day later I was like 'TWISTIES! MY LOVE! WHERE FORT ART THOU???' and I raced down to pick up my love, along with a tub of ice cream and some yoghurt, as well as some rice crackers and a dip of choice, some muesli bars, frozen quiche, a container of fruit juice and some peanut butter.
Eat 80/20. That's all I will say. And let the 20 be once a week. For myself, I'd like to go back to the old days when my grandparents were alive and try to eat like them because the people in the movies and posters back (even though in movies and posters) had different body shapes compared with us today. I feel as though they had more respect for food and belongings as well.
~I'd like to make a shopping list, stick to it every week, get the financials in order, and make the whole shopping experience a routine down pat.
~~ Bros, we ALL know this did not happen. Not in the slightest. I bought muesli bars? Shit me.
# Finish watching tv shows. These include, Gilmore Girls, Supernatural and Grey's Anatomy. Gilmore Girls will be easy because I'm halfway through season six and there are only seven seasons. Grey's Anatomy I'm only up to season four and there are twelve seasons! Supernatural I'm at season one. So. Yes.
Do that.
~~ THIS HAPPENED. HOLY FUCK. SO!! I have literally finished Gilmore Girls and watched the whole 'A Year in the Life' which shit me off to no end because Rory was a dickwipe who had sex with Logan even though HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND. Can I say it again, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE YOUTH TODAY. If I ever found out my son had done that I would SLAP HIS BITCH FACE. I'm pretty sure he never told his gf, because they were always sneakily sluttin around, although maybe I'm mistaken, but I remember feeling revolted and annoyed that this lovely Rory who I had admired was now this whore who messed her whole life up, so I'm assuming that I felt that way because of their secrecy. Total respect for consensual open relationships. Peace to you.
And! I have struggled my way through season two of Supernatural, which was ok from memory, and then pushed ever-faithfully on through season three, which gave me nightmares but I persevered, and then bounced happily into season four! I think it's because Castiel finally came in, so I had actual eye candy, like PHWOAR, you can rock a trench coat you amazing weirdo, get in my pants.
However, Grey's Anatomy became really depressing and a lot of the main characters died or were involved in misfortune. I got up to season 5 and thought, ummmm, nahhhh. But I would like to go back and watch it in an intermittent fashion.
So that was fun!
Nowadays, I have Netflix, (THANKS BAE! 💖) and I have religiously watched Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on repeat, up to current ep of The Good Place, and am just getting into Arrested Development.
Other series I want to watch include: The End of the fucking world, Black Mirror, Don't trust the B in apartment 23, The IT crowd, Stranger Things, Schitt$ Creek, the US The Office, Extras, Gypsy, Peaky Blinders, Bates Motel, Getting On, Sense8, Dance Academy, East Siders, and Call the midwife... just to name a few.
# Continue with my children's book. Now when I say continue, I mean sort out a story board for each page, work out illustrations, size, take to editor/publisher, etc, and get the whole ball rolling. Become famous! Take over the world, somehow, with books for children! Wear a tiara! Fly! Command someone to build a skyscraper of myself in a dressing gown and carrying a coffee cup, hair ruffled, squinty-eyed, stained slippers, maybe half a yawn, in memory of how I am and what it takes to be brilliant such as me! Even though I will still be alive.
~~ This also never happened! I do have a passion for creating silly tales that pretty much only children resonate with, but for some reason I just keep the draft copy and lug it all over my room to put in various spots when I do a clean out. Must get on this!
# Continue with my novel. Yes, I have a novel. It is in progress, and has been for about eight years, which I think is natural for a novel. The theme is fantasy and in my head I have planned most of the story, the ending, beginnings and interweaving of the five characters lives, and on paper I have written the characters profiles and parts of scenes. However, as with age comes adultness. I have adulted. I am now without such time for spontaneous writings and drawings, and as much as this saddens me, I declare sorrowfully that study and work have become a big part of my life at the present. Nursing does not allow for fantasies. It is a degree of study, preparation, facts, planning, and responsibilities. But aside from this, I would like to look over it whenever I feel slightly bored or wandering thoughts, to remember and perhaps get back into it again.
~~ Well nursing can suck my ass, because I quit! But not because of this novel. I just became really tired of helping everyone else except me, and one day I was driving in my car and I thought 'I don't even LIKE nursing. I hate going there! It takes up too much of my time, I'm always stressed about assignments and lack of money and getting a freakin car park in their tiny 'matchbox' sized carpark for 2,000 students. Why am I doing this? I don't even want to BE a nurse. I want to take people's blood, steal it away, store it in my underground lab, and experiment on people while I start my own super-race.' It took a lot of effort and a lot of deciding and moaning and crying and feeling like a fat losery failure and a disappointment to everyone at my job, my family, my friends, everyone except myself, because inside I was actually a bit numb. LOL. But I was. I had pulled my inner spirit up to be this 'nurse' person, acting, thinking, trying my hardest to be that person, and feeling dumb because obviously I was the entire opposite of this person. So it felt like someone had ripped out a piece of me. As well as having other parts ripped out of me, and the whole process was hard, tiring, and no point at all.
However, I DID look over my novel last year, and I actually wrote out a few notes and got stuck into the characters, which made me realise how fucked up they really are. I love them all, but they just break my heart because I already know what happens, I know their lives and the troubles they go through, and to be honest, it's just to be loved or fit in or find happiness. Of course, when I was writing this years ago I had no idea. But now, looking at it through fresh, grown-up eyes, I can see that this novel is going to be a bitch to write. It's going to take all my self-control not to get wholly enveloped to the point of drowning, just to reach deep into my little chasm of feelings and take out each one so they can be examined and blown up 1000x its size.
It's going to be a burst of creation, and I'm not sure how I will handle it.
# Continue with my fairy drawings. You must do this woman! There is no greater magic on this earth, I believe, than creating. As true love is a thing hard to find, I am skeptical. I believe few people find it. So that magic is rare. But creating anything, whether it be cakes, furniture, clothes, paintings, movies, etc, involves imagination and ideas, determination to work through the difficult parts, and a will to make it all come about in the end. I personally always feel so content when I'm drawing fairies. I feel as though I have purpose in life, even if I'm just creating a lamely drawn person with no hands.
~Do what makes you come alive! You will spread the magic!
~ This is actually really, very, extremely hard to do. I think about it often. I admire the artists I see and I realise I don't have to be the greatest. However, the INTERNET has completely taken over my brain. Yes, I'm blaming YOU, Internet, because I read somewhere that manufacturers make the mobile phone in such a way that when you look at it, you release endorphins. I am not okay with that. I demand you give ALL of my happy cells back to me, thank you and good day!
# Buy more clothes. I don't like shopping in general and for a long time I was saving up to buy a house. As I have recently made my dream come true by purchasing a house, I believe I can now spend some money on clothes. This means nice clothes! A jacket would be nice, for one! Seeing as how I left my last one in a pub! Amen.
~~ One good of the many about Bae is that I am forced to buy feminine, pretty, almost sexual, clothes. Thanks Bae! I open my wardrobe with the same ol 'hmmm, what to wear to the bfs house? Welp! I have nothing!'
Bag, Keys, Wallet, and we are out to shop!
But not really! That's not how it goes! Ahhaa, it's more of a grumbling reluctance, even if I do wish to appear vaguely mysterious and woman-like.
I did buy a jacket though, and it was expensive, and it looks reasonable. I approve in a general sense or not having a strong feeling of disapproval.
# Learn French, Japanese and German. The urge for German has probably passed for now, though, and Japanese is a meh one, but French would be delightful. This means actually putting languages on your Ipod and listening to them, actually saying them, doing this daily and regardless of people listening. Talking to people in your newfound language. Ordering food in the foreign tongue and confusing the wait staff. YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU WILL RULE.
~Maybe you shouldn't have had that last coffee?
~~ Can I say, that I drive to many places throughout my life, and last year I have driven to possibly many more than that because of my life -- yes...-- and YET! Even though I have two French audios on my ipod in my car, that we have established I spend a great deal of time in, I have not once listened to it.
Not. Once.
# Attempt pottery and play the guitar. Buy the guitar. Enrol in a pot-making course. Wrap it up, lady. This list is too long.
# Start playing volleyball. #Sign up at a martial arts class.
# Continue making jewellery. # Sell jewellery. # Start a jewellery business.
# Continue growing vegetables and fruit. # Upload photos of these fruits and vegetables.
# Sew clothes. # Buy a sewing machine. # Do all the sewing. # Continue knitting for the homeless. # Actually finish a blanket to give to the homeless.
~~ I have not done any of these. Let's just call it a day and continue on with a strongass mofo of a coffee to get PUMPT.
I believe I can do a tafe course for blood collection (pathology) waaaaaay cheaper than a nursing degree worth over 30,000, which I can pay for upfront if I save up. This will save me stress, money, time, and the cringe factor every time I think about that hugeass looming hecs fee.
Also, I believe I have done my time of lounging around in bed, eating doritos, and singing Evanescence songs while watching 8 episodes in one day of one tv show.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
So!
2018, yes is a year, but also, it's a time. I spent my whole 2017 chillin to such a degree that I put on 5 kilos. I told myself 'it's stress, you deserve to chillaxify with yummy foods and visual stimulation' but also, I told myself that 'I can't be bothered' doing anything.
Life is meant for bothering! If it weren't, why is the very fact of chillaxifying and doing nothing at all so apathetic and depression inducing? You must strive for new heights! Get up and get out! Cut your hair! Get a tattoo! (Yes I DO want another one) You must be all that you can be because life is great and you are young and capable.
You must defy robotism!
I must say, after doing my no spend challenge and OH! I did buy something from Office Works! I splurged a whole 8.95 and bought a little pug dog notepad with sticky notes, and the pug dogs wear top hats and monocles and moustaches like an underground dog mafia boss. Then I had a situation where a tub of cream burst in my car (from nothing I personally did) soaking the whole pug pad, and my handbag, and a bag of clothes, and my car door, and windshield, and steering wheel, and seat cover, and yes. It was a time. It was December of 2017.
ANYWHO.
The two challenges of no spend and no junk that I took part in last year have not changed me in the slightest. I'm still overly frugal with necessities like work shoes or the dentist, and yet generous with all the edible treats one could want whenever one could want. I would never dream of running out on a whim to purchase a whole box of desperately needed plastic sleeves to order the mounting paperwork I have, yet I see no problem in buying three bags of chips to sit and marathon Black Books.
I hope February of this year kicks me in the butt and jumpstarts a whole new level of Cerri Awesome.
Stay tuned!
\ \!!/ /
(>__>)
Tuesday 16 January 2018
Can I leave my jacket on?
The problem wasn't the burn marks on the toast, no. She were far too old to deal with that nonsense. If bread couldn't cook within the allocated amount of time, well! Then bread would have to answer to a higher, plumpier, chewier version of the Bread God himself.
Yes.
There was a god, and he was made out of bread, and he was a He.
Or was he?
Upon her third bite of her second piece of toast (the first was only crust and therefore could not be called toast at all, nor bread, but merely an 'afterthought of the possibility of bread, if the right person got their act together'. What. A. Shame.) she experienced a change of heart and two flashes in her brain bin that was her actual thinking brain located inside the skull that sat inside a flesh prison being her face and head.
The Bread God was IN FACT a woman. It had to be. It had to be the Bread Goddess.
As such, the two thoughts turned out to be: what a FUCKING ORGASMIC piece of toast this second one is. FUCK. Followed closely- but not too close because foodgasms do not allow for the required thinking time- by: how in GOD'S NAME can this be from a man? Since when do men produce orgasms on such a monumental scale?
"Sharna!" she cried when her friend walked into their shabby excuse for a kitchen. "Sharna! Taste this bread!"
Sharna said, "Shhhh, fuck, Ilma. It's eight forty am." And she proceeded to put the coffee maker on while shuffling enigmatically in her flower-printed robe.
"I have never known Jamie Oliver or Huey whatisname to give foodgasms such as this!" Ilma said while brandishing toast about, in hopes Sharna would turn around and fall head over heels.
"They're both hasbeens aren't they?" Sharna replied sensibly with her back still turned.
Ilma wrinkled one brow elegantly. "I honestly don't know."
She thought about this as Sharna went about her breakfast making in a heavy-bowl-clanking, sharp-knife-clinking, soft-water-rushing kind of way that possibly involved fruit and something cinnamony.
Could someone like a famous chef disappear from the limelight after producing such a fuss? Which one of Jamie's recipes had she tried making? And did it turn out like the original with such zest, such flair, most moist, that it actually had given her a foodgasm?
To answer this question she would have to search what exactly an orgasm was, and how it directly related to the food she was eating, and therefore, the inexplicable effects it created throughout the human body. It would require days of research, a new pen, a newer laptop- most likely one that had GB of RAM- snacks in all varieties of unhealth and mess producing, a new view to stare out in contemplation or reflection when the situation called for it, and actually, in all likeliness, a new car.
This was a long list of things Ilma needed to finish her thesis. She thought about the weight now on her shoulders, and she sat back in her chair, pondering, looking lost in an idea but photogenically ready, and ever slightly the mysterious creature that merits a gaze out of the corner of the eye to satisfy that curious itch.
Ilma sighed dramatically. "Sharn, how am I supposed to come up with six thousand dollars before Halloween?"
Sharna snorted in her glass of green breakfast smoothie. Ilma waited in sympathy. Breakfast juices caused all sorts of problems in ones life. Ilma was here and she was understanding in matters such as these.
"Dude, are you doing drugs?" Sharna wiped her mouth with her robe sleeve.
"Dirtying the robe!" Ilma shrieked.
"What?"
"It's sacred!"
Sharna rolled her eyes, took another sip, and then asked, "You need six thousand dollars in two weeks?"
"Huh? Two weeks?" Ilma flipped open her diary and saw, as she had not suspected, that Halloween was in two weeks. "What is this?" she flipped it closed in disgust.
"Are you writing a book about recipes?" Sharna asked, once again in a serious manner that was far too serious for a recipe book discussion but not serious enough for a hostile take down on the body's culinary senses.
"It's for involvements that all deal in food."
The fact of the matter was, Ilma didn't think she could trust Sharna with the heavy burden of this task. Then suddenly: "Are you eating toast with Vegemite AND cream cheese?"
"Yes, and it's the most delightful thing I have ever decided to do on a spontaneous whim. Whims are hard, Shaz, much harder than algebra or making apple pie from scratch, both of which I have tried to do on a whim and both times I have failed."
Sharna laughed long and loud. "I remember your pie episode. It was a saga."
"Yes," Ilma bristled as if she actually had fur to stand on end. "Wasn't it ever. But this isn't whim! This is fantasy turned reality! This is a dramatic comedy with romance stuffed in!"
"Romance? Ok, Ilma, I have an idea." Sharna twinkled bright-eyed and angelic at Ilma, and Ilma narrowed her eyebrows in a suspicious, sheepish sort of grin.
"I'll allow it," she said.
"Well!" Sharna started eagerly, and put her glass aside as a necessary precaution due to arm-flailing and head-tossing in moments of excitement. "How about we go on a double date?! I;ll set you up with one of Jeremy's single friends!"
Ilma inhaled impressively. A date? With a man? Could she be unsuspecting and hook this fellow into her book-writing, maybe even convince him to do the actual writing while she dictated and ate red jelly mixed with chocolate custard from a bowl? After all, women shouldn't do anything overly exerting without the right sustenance.
"Well?" Sharna prompted, still eager-eyed but a glaze forming where interest should be, as if she were slowly turning into a statue.
"I think it's very important to cross-examine another persons work," Ilma said, nodding more to herself.
"Excellent!" Sharna exclaimed happily. "I'll head to the gym and then get back early so we can prepare!"
Ilma stared at a fridge magnet in the shape of a large white tooth, completely lost in her world-domination plans. "Yes," she droned, almost as if in a trance. "I believe Trevor will need training to correct his hideous posture. Ergonomic chairs are all the rage now, did you know?"
"Of course they are, everyone knows." Sharna shoved all her dishes in the sink and took a deep breath, turned to the fridge and then shook herself as if to clear an ugly image. "Why Jeremy would go in there is beyond me. I'll clean it next week. Ok Illy!" she said, turned and waved absurdly. "I'll be back! Try to pick something sensual to wear!"
"Sensual? What?" Ilma turned as Sharna left. "Wait! Did you say date or staff review meeting?"
Yes.
There was a god, and he was made out of bread, and he was a He.
Or was he?
Upon her third bite of her second piece of toast (the first was only crust and therefore could not be called toast at all, nor bread, but merely an 'afterthought of the possibility of bread, if the right person got their act together'. What. A. Shame.) she experienced a change of heart and two flashes in her brain bin that was her actual thinking brain located inside the skull that sat inside a flesh prison being her face and head.
The Bread God was IN FACT a woman. It had to be. It had to be the Bread Goddess.
As such, the two thoughts turned out to be: what a FUCKING ORGASMIC piece of toast this second one is. FUCK. Followed closely- but not too close because foodgasms do not allow for the required thinking time- by: how in GOD'S NAME can this be from a man? Since when do men produce orgasms on such a monumental scale?
"Sharna!" she cried when her friend walked into their shabby excuse for a kitchen. "Sharna! Taste this bread!"
Sharna said, "Shhhh, fuck, Ilma. It's eight forty am." And she proceeded to put the coffee maker on while shuffling enigmatically in her flower-printed robe.
"I have never known Jamie Oliver or Huey whatisname to give foodgasms such as this!" Ilma said while brandishing toast about, in hopes Sharna would turn around and fall head over heels.
"They're both hasbeens aren't they?" Sharna replied sensibly with her back still turned.
Ilma wrinkled one brow elegantly. "I honestly don't know."
She thought about this as Sharna went about her breakfast making in a heavy-bowl-clanking, sharp-knife-clinking, soft-water-rushing kind of way that possibly involved fruit and something cinnamony.
Could someone like a famous chef disappear from the limelight after producing such a fuss? Which one of Jamie's recipes had she tried making? And did it turn out like the original with such zest, such flair, most moist, that it actually had given her a foodgasm?
To answer this question she would have to search what exactly an orgasm was, and how it directly related to the food she was eating, and therefore, the inexplicable effects it created throughout the human body. It would require days of research, a new pen, a newer laptop- most likely one that had GB of RAM- snacks in all varieties of unhealth and mess producing, a new view to stare out in contemplation or reflection when the situation called for it, and actually, in all likeliness, a new car.
This was a long list of things Ilma needed to finish her thesis. She thought about the weight now on her shoulders, and she sat back in her chair, pondering, looking lost in an idea but photogenically ready, and ever slightly the mysterious creature that merits a gaze out of the corner of the eye to satisfy that curious itch.
Ilma sighed dramatically. "Sharn, how am I supposed to come up with six thousand dollars before Halloween?"
Sharna snorted in her glass of green breakfast smoothie. Ilma waited in sympathy. Breakfast juices caused all sorts of problems in ones life. Ilma was here and she was understanding in matters such as these.
"Dude, are you doing drugs?" Sharna wiped her mouth with her robe sleeve.
"Dirtying the robe!" Ilma shrieked.
"What?"
"It's sacred!"
Sharna rolled her eyes, took another sip, and then asked, "You need six thousand dollars in two weeks?"
"Huh? Two weeks?" Ilma flipped open her diary and saw, as she had not suspected, that Halloween was in two weeks. "What is this?" she flipped it closed in disgust.
"Are you writing a book about recipes?" Sharna asked, once again in a serious manner that was far too serious for a recipe book discussion but not serious enough for a hostile take down on the body's culinary senses.
"It's for involvements that all deal in food."
The fact of the matter was, Ilma didn't think she could trust Sharna with the heavy burden of this task. Then suddenly: "Are you eating toast with Vegemite AND cream cheese?"
"Yes, and it's the most delightful thing I have ever decided to do on a spontaneous whim. Whims are hard, Shaz, much harder than algebra or making apple pie from scratch, both of which I have tried to do on a whim and both times I have failed."
Sharna laughed long and loud. "I remember your pie episode. It was a saga."
"Yes," Ilma bristled as if she actually had fur to stand on end. "Wasn't it ever. But this isn't whim! This is fantasy turned reality! This is a dramatic comedy with romance stuffed in!"
"Romance? Ok, Ilma, I have an idea." Sharna twinkled bright-eyed and angelic at Ilma, and Ilma narrowed her eyebrows in a suspicious, sheepish sort of grin.
"I'll allow it," she said.
"Well!" Sharna started eagerly, and put her glass aside as a necessary precaution due to arm-flailing and head-tossing in moments of excitement. "How about we go on a double date?! I;ll set you up with one of Jeremy's single friends!"
Ilma inhaled impressively. A date? With a man? Could she be unsuspecting and hook this fellow into her book-writing, maybe even convince him to do the actual writing while she dictated and ate red jelly mixed with chocolate custard from a bowl? After all, women shouldn't do anything overly exerting without the right sustenance.
"Well?" Sharna prompted, still eager-eyed but a glaze forming where interest should be, as if she were slowly turning into a statue.
"I think it's very important to cross-examine another persons work," Ilma said, nodding more to herself.
"Excellent!" Sharna exclaimed happily. "I'll head to the gym and then get back early so we can prepare!"
Ilma stared at a fridge magnet in the shape of a large white tooth, completely lost in her world-domination plans. "Yes," she droned, almost as if in a trance. "I believe Trevor will need training to correct his hideous posture. Ergonomic chairs are all the rage now, did you know?"
"Of course they are, everyone knows." Sharna shoved all her dishes in the sink and took a deep breath, turned to the fridge and then shook herself as if to clear an ugly image. "Why Jeremy would go in there is beyond me. I'll clean it next week. Ok Illy!" she said, turned and waved absurdly. "I'll be back! Try to pick something sensual to wear!"
"Sensual? What?" Ilma turned as Sharna left. "Wait! Did you say date or staff review meeting?"
Saturday 6 January 2018
Aren't you a bit short to be a Storm Trooper?
Ballemi called up her half-brother in London.
"I'm going on away for a while!" she boomed down the line in her sincere yet clamorous voice.
Calemy winced. "Bally, how many times must I tell you-?'
"Don't tell me, brother dearest," Ballemi rolled her eyes while she let her boom speak for itself. "Show me." And she hung up.
"Now," Ballemi looked around the cluttered living area filled with ferny plants, colouring pencils, half-finished paintings, penis-shaped wine glasses, and oriental waving cat statues, and thought: can all of this really fit into my vehicle?
"There's two new birds out on the deck..." came a lazy drawl from behind her, and much to her dismay at being interrupted in her time of need, Ballemi brought herself up to her full five feet and ten inches, and said, "Caramel, I'm going on a trip."
Caramel took a sip out of a penis glass and squinted at her. The interesting thing about Caramel was her ability to drink cocoa out of a wine glass at any time of the day while making it look like a natural occurrence.
"Yes," Caramel nodded. "I can see by your aura that you most definitely should."
"I will need to take Jujube with me..." Ballemi continued, still glancing around and still- if she were honest- thinking about yesterdays fresh batch of cupcakes, the ten pounds those cupcakes gave her almost overnight, the smear of strawberry icing on her pillow and bed sheet from the luxurious midnight viewing of 'Does my cookie dough look big in this?' (it did), and how, as if by magic, she turned around after her cooking spree to find out they didn't own a dishwasher.
"We've never had a dishwasher," Caramel had smiled around her glass of chocolate with a look of mild amusement.
"You mean ever?" Ballemi asked, shocked and somewhat suspicious.
"Never, ever."
"What the BOLLOCKS!"
Now, Caramel sat down on the lilac couch and turned on the tv. "I doubt Jujube will go with you, however I agree one hundred per cent that he should. I just think he would get bored."
"Of course he wouldn't get bored. God Caramel, you'd think all he ever did was extremely exciting adventures like mountain climbing while riding alpacas, or online dating."
"Oh, well, yes."
Ballemi ignored Caramel's lack of argumentative fire, or passion, or real investment in other such extremely exciting adventures, and heaved her black, dusty, monstrous suitcase out of the hallway cupboard, down the hallway, and into the living room. She plopped it on top of the coffee table. Caramel propped herself up on two cushions to see the tv better.
"Alright! Things to bring on The Trip..." Ballemi stared at a painting of the Mona Lisa. What could one possibly do with that?
"An iron!" Caramel called out suddenly.
"Yes!" Ballemi screeched, relieved, "Yes! Perfect! Thank you!" She raced off, grabbed their old, cordless (because a family of mice had chewed it off, presumably to eat for dinner) metallic heap of an iron and dumped it in.
"Hole puncher!" Caramel called out again.
"Oh my god yes!"
When Ballemi came back with one, Caramel yelled: "Washing powder!"
"God yes." She flung in half a box.
"A navy blue sweater!"
"Oh, GENIUS!"
"Tinsel from last Christmas!"
"Well, seems a bit pointless but I guess I can see its potential."
"Scissors that you cut chicken with!" Caramel shrieked out in laughter.
"You're right... a roast turkey could most probably come up."
"A lamp in the shape of Baloo from Jungle Book!"
"Oh, well, will this whale lamp do?"
"Sneakers without laces!"
"I actually have a pair of those!"
This went for quite some time. After half an hour had passed, Caramel looked over at Ballemi as she zipped up her bulging suitcase and asked: "Did you get all those answers too?"
"Huh?"
"To the quiz... the show just on."
Ballemi frowned, "Was there a show on?"
"The theme was Things One Could Do Without."
"Was it...?" But Ballemi was once again staring at the Mona Lisa painting, preoccupied, regretful, and unsure. She was certain it could be made useful. Was it wise to pack it just in case?
"Bollocks!" she cried happily. "I will!"
"Oh you're not taking that old thing are you?" Caramel scoffed just as Jujube leaped gracefully onto her lap. He watched as Ballemi hoisted up the painting that was as tall and just as wide as she was and he purred in what seemed like approval.
"This cat has no taste," Caramel shook her head.
"God almighty, who the hell invented this?" Ballemi huffed. She had really only just turned around, carrying the painting as high in the air as she could, but that was enough. She slammed it down in a tired huff.
Caramel swigged the last of her drink, stood up with no regard for Jujube whatsoever, and helped Ballemi carry the painting to the suitcase, open the suitcase, and pull out seventeen pairs of knee-high socks so they could slide the painting in.
"You are a nightmare!" Caramel said, laughing with her head thrown back.
"And you..." started Ballemi in all seriousness and solemness usually reserved for court rooms and table-tennis matches, "are the loyalest friend a person could ever want. A salute to you." She saluted. Caramel laughed but looked extremely pleased, if a little unsurprised and not at all modest in the slightest.
Ballemi took this with good grace.
"Come along Jujube!" she sang. "Good bye Caramel! I shall write every week! Then every other week, then once a month, due to my hot and steamy romantic affair that will render me without any time at all to pursue my once sought-after hobbies! Oh how I will miss them all! Let's go Jujy!"
Feeling light as air and excited as a little kid, Ballemi burst out of the front door. She stopped, squinted in the bright sunlight.
She could hear laughter coming from inside.
"Caramel!" she shouted. "I haven't got a car!"
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