a very happy unbirthday to me!

"why is a raven like a writing desk?"

So it's not entirely an 'unbirthday', but today has been an extremely good average day. Despite not seeing Alex, I'm feeling very positive about it...prompted by drunken love from her last night, and the knowledge that it's only a week to go!

A couple of days ago, I was surprised to find a POST office slip under the front door informing me that I had a package to collect from St Agnes. The fact that it was international puzzled me - I had no idea who it could be from! So, this morning, I trekked down to pick it up and was delighted beyond words to find that the amazing and always lovely Cassaundra had sent me a birthday parcel! Not only have I never received a package before, but it was totally unexpected and wonderful. I could not stop grinning for a good hour - I must have looked an absolute sight! I was excited for so many reasons; I've now finally seen her handwriting, and it makes our friendship even more special. This is what she sent me (I love it, and have been yearning for one!):

I have every intention of wearing it everywhere!

After this fabulous start to my day, I ventured to the hairdresser for the first time in over a year! To be honest, I could've cut it myself, but oh well. And the colour...it's a bit unnatural for my liking. But if I get sick of it, I'll just dye it dark brown like I did last year. It's only hair!

Around lunchtime I went to Kristy's for an afternoon of crafting, which was awesome. AND the naughty girl also surprised me with a birthday gift! It is so thoughtful and 100% me...mate, you know me so well :) haha. I was lucky enough to get a bag reading "JUTE NOT PLASTIC" which I spoke to her about ages ago, some organic chocolate and fair trade coffee, and the most incredible thing of all - a donation to Oxfam for the schooling of AIDS orphans in Zimbabwe. All amazing presents aside, I had a wonderful afternoon, filled with laughter and sugar soap and Gilmore Girls and beads and sushi...even if it did prove once and for all that 1. I'm not destined to be a painter, and 2. I should never be allowed to drive anywhere by myself EVER!

Thank you, my only two readers :)

Peace out x

there's gotta be a little bit in you and me.

Where did you get that scar, old man?

And does it carry to your heart?

If I sent you mail, would it heal a little?




I like symmetry, and order –

even if it does not suit me, or myself.

Perhaps this face is going places, after all!

Not today, or tomorrow.

But soon.

It’s going on a bus; in love

and with love, to a far away place.

Painting on the side, changing every day

(or every week, at least.)

We’ll visit, if you wish

and maybe I’ll change the world.




Not today, or tomorrow.

But soon.

starting to make sense...

If you know me, you'll know that I've been struggling to work out what I want to do with my life - and it plays on my mind, a lot. Because I've always enjoyed, and been somewhat good at writing, I thought that this would be a suitable career path, and gradually my silly head began to view it as the ONLY option. It clearly didn't work out that way, and perhaps I should've stuck to my original first preference when applying for university.

I don't know whyI put down Paramedics the first time - it was on a whim, but the only thing that stopped me doing it was the fact that I thought Flinders was too far away to travel on a daily basis (and yes, I realise that's simply lazy!). So, I stuck with Journalism - partially for that reason, and partially because it's what I'd been telling everyone I wanted to do for the 5 years previous. I'm sounding amazingly like a coward right now, and I think that I was, but I'm learning not to care what people think of me. And as my blog title suggests, it's all starting to make sense.

Most people think I'm joking when I say I want to be a firefighter - but I'm not. I think it would be an amazing job, and I think that I'd be good at it. I enjoy helping people, and just because I choose a completely different career path doesn't mean that I couldn't continue to write as a hobby! If anything, it would probably give me more inspiration. And then I'd be writing about something worthwhile, instead of writing about writing!

Most recently, I've been thinking quite a bit about training to become a surf lifesaver. Up until the past few years, I was really into my fitness etc, and it's something I want to take up again and continue with. Swimming was always a huge part of my childhood, and I don't think these thoughts are entirely random. I want to do it quite badly - I just haven't expressed it to anyone, because I'm scared of the same reaction that I mentioned above!

So, there you have it. Paramedic. Firefighter. Lifesaver.
There's a pattern, isn't there?
Or is it just me?

pining away.

lonely.
















uninspired.



















enemy.


















pain.














yearning.





















done.

sunny Sunday indeed.

A warning to all: over the next three weeks, all blogs will include a great deal of complaining about being lonely and missing Alex. Cyberspace will have to deal with it, because I have a feeling people in real life won't be so accepting after 21 days.


Such a long time.

And Tasmania is so far away.
For Cassaundra's benefit:





(We live in the red circle, and lover girl has gone hiking in the blue circle)








I dropped her off at dawn (well, practically dawn) this morning.
It was horrible.

However, that is not the entire reason I've decided to blog on this fine day - I'm in a very 'listing' mood. I.e, I feel the need to make lists about lots of things. Being upset does that to me; perhaps my addled brain thinks it will make me feel better. Odd though, as I'm the least organised person in the world.

Here we go.



Things I need/want to buy:
- external hard drive for my laptop (I only have 3gb left on my internal memory - eek!)
- birthday present for Bec: struggling for ideas. Kristy, remind me to run an idea about it by you. You're my advice lady :]
- new tealight candles.
- the Breast Cancer Foundation sunglasses that I lost on ZeroSeven and have mourned ever since, until Tuesday when I found the same pair for sale at National Pharmacies!
- a CD/mp3 player for my car.
- someone to fix the central locking on my car.
- new thongs/summer shoes.
- digi camera.
- Polaroid camera.
- new underwear.
- Season 5 of Gilmore Girls.
- magazines.
- a tattoo. Kristy, refer this to me again :]
- anniversary present for baby. I think there may be another list about this soon.
- a new razor, hair mousse and foundation.
- a hair cut and colour, like this hopefully.
- a larger turtle tank - Pascoe won't stop growing!




Things to occupy my time with while Alex is away:
- buying the above things.
- finally buyin brushes and painting my canvas.
- collaging with Kristy so I have something to put on my blank wall.
- catch up with people I've been meaning to see (Jess, Lani, girls from uni).
- cut up my old magazines for the aforementioned collage.
- start exercising regularly.
- read the entire Harry Potter series again.
- finish reading 'Children of the A-bomb' - I started when I first returned from Japan, but it was too heavy for the time being.
- watch 'The Goonies' because I borrowed it from Alex about 9 months ago and it's probably time to return it!
- get photos developed and update all my frames.
- everything on this wonderful list by Eli Skipp.
- make unique Christmas cards for everyone I love.
- probably should start Christmas shopping, too!




Ways in which Alex can repay me for leaving:
- be my slave forever.
- cook for me.
- that's about all; I'll be happy enough when she's home.



Enough for now.


Peace out x

perspective goes a long way...

I had one of those nights, last week.
Yes, those nights.
The completely out-of-my-mind type.
Here's what I wrote:

- - - -

I think I’m having some sort of emotional breakdown.
I don’t even know why.

Crooked calendar.

It feels like about four in the morning, not eleven at night.
And my fiancé shouldn’t have to be my psychologist – even though she just listened to half an hour of neuroses that may not even exist.

I can’t decide whether I miss people, or things, or memories.
I can’t make words fit together properly.

It’s nothing to do with the fact that I want to holds hands forever, but can’t do so in public.

Can you even miss memories?
Maybe you can miss times, but not memories.
But if memories are times, then maybe so.

Sometimes, I feel like no one takes me seriously.
I don’t usually say things for no reason.
In fact, never.

In this light it looks like my hands are wrinkled – I have this feeling I’m going to die young, you know.

Perhaps I just need a distraction; at the moment, peeling off all my nail polish feels like an accomplishment.

I’m never going to write a book,
and I’m never going to be passionate about something other than you for longer than five minutes.

If my turtle died, I’d hate myself a little bit.

I lied to myself for years – I’m not a “boy’s girl”.
But if that’s the case, why can’t I get my mother to like me?
And why has my father always preferred the others?

I couldn’t share a room.
I need to be able to sit at my laptop in the middle of the night
and take my clothes off when I get hot.

Fuck, I’m spoilt.

People always apologise too late.
‘Say what you mean, and mean what you say.’
Or, blah.

Décor with spots looks cheap.
I can say that, but I miss my nipple ring – ha!

I care when people don’t like me.
It’s obvious.
So why do you claim otherwise, fucker head?

You’re lonely, but you’ve got everyone you want.

Pluck eyebrows. Clean room. Tell baby sorry. Wear dress. Repay brother. Parents. Brother. Phone bill. Stop buying bottled water. Walk. Stop driving before car dies.

Get inspired.

Stop being dim-witted.

or

No one will ever like you.


- - - -


I can't even bring myself to read it.
So you are my psychologist!