r-e-s-p-e-c-t.

Today's topic is "Disrespecting Parents".  I'm assuming I'm to write about my opinion about this?  Seems a bit shit.  As if anyone would write about how they are pro-disrespecting anyone.  Obvs I'm no advocate for this biz.

Basically, it's like this.  If you're out of high school, stop that shit.  I think during high school you're bound to not really get on with your parents, and no one is going to be super mad about that.  You think your parents are the worst, that they're on a very specific mission to stop you being cool/having fun (obviously, as if they have anything better to do than ruin your life), you'll hate them for it and they'll expect you to feel that way being that they inevitably did at your age: life is just running it's course. 

But once you're out of high school and making adult decisions, one of those decisions needs to be not to be a dick to your parents.  

I think the older you get, the more you can appreciate that being an adult sucks a lot and it's mad tough sometimes and be honest, you can't even imagine what it would be like to have a kid or two in the picture so you need to give them props.  They're just people.

big ups, Mum and Dad.  

(Obviously if you're parents aren't actually the best parents, for whatever reason, this may not apply.  But for those in a situation like mine?  This is what's up.)

scaredy-cat.

It's Day 17, you guys!  I've passed the halfway point!  Bam!  Exclamation marks!

Today, the topic is "things that make you scared".  I'm unsure as to the level of scaredy-cat-ness that this is referring too, so I'm just going to list a random selection of things that I am, to varying degrees, scared of.  Because I am terrified of everything.

1. Grating my fingers.  I have never had a bad experience with a grater however I constantly think about grating my fingernails off, and then the rest of my fingers (as if I wouldn't immediately stop).  UGHHHHHHH thinking about it makes my fingers tingle.

2. Other people being up high.  I'm not that pumped about heights myself, however if I have to get up somewhere, I will.  But the second you make me watch someone else doing something at a height (basically ALL THE TIME at my old job at the canyon swing), my heart is in my throat and I'm all about ready to heave it out, in sheer panic.  Once I had to paint the railing around the balcony at the swing site.  I did the inside, and Rob, who I worked with, hooked himself up to hang off the roof and kind of abseil down so he could do the outside (hanging over a cliff-face.  Not exaggerating.).  I spent the entire time refusing to look at him because it made me so nervous.

highest of the high up places a.k.a my old workplace.

3. Being forever alone.  Right now I'm happy being alone, but the forever part is terrifying because what if all the boys hate me forever and then I am a spinster and have to get loads of cats and hey I love cats don't worry everybody it's okay.

4. People dying.  Specifically my family.  I mean, obviously I am upset when anyone I know dies, or anyone who is important to someone who is important to me dies, and so on and so forth, however I am very, very scared of anyone in my family dying.  What the hell are you meant to do about that?  This has happened to people that I know and I am every day astounded that they haven't just dropped dead themselves (you know what I mean) out of an actual inability to cope.  I know some bloody amazing people.  I am scared that I am not like that.

5. Walking around outside in the dark.  Particularly downhill.  I hate not knowing where I'm stepping and permanently convinced I'll take a wrong step in the dark and do the splits and skid down a hill.  I am scared of that, so I take the tiniest steps possible and will feel around until I'm sure I have a decent footing, therefore cementing my place in everyone's lives as the slowest walker they have ever known.

6. My money situation.  My no money situation.

7. Pregnancy.  Where would I put a baby?  Also, how did I get pregnant?  (see fear #3)

8. People sneaking up on me.  I quite easily get into a "zone".  If I am working, I am in that zone.  If I am reading, I am in a reading zone.  If I am internerding...  you get the idea.  I will actually open a book and be in the zone immediately, which makes it incredibly easy for anyone to give me a fright.  Like a 'shit the bed' kind of  fright.  Hours of fun for everyone else.  You guys all suck.

So, there's some cool fears for you to think about.  Maybe if you weren't afraid of these before, you are now?  Join the club, my friend.  Join the club.  Hey guys!  Any decision we make could totally ruin our lives!  Have a fun day! 

toot.

I really love my great face.  This is why
I have so many boyfriends.  Obvs.

Today is Day 16 and I have to (yeah someone is definitely forcing me to do this) write about three things that I like about my personality.  I'm not going to lie, I'm struggling with this.  Not in a pity party way, more in a it's not really a kiwi thing to get out there and toot your own horn way.  And the more I think about it, the more I realise that the things I like about myself are sometimes the things that I'm not that keen on, at the same time. Ah, the complications of being human.  Particularly of a female variety, I think.  

So.  Three things.

ONE: I'm good at doing things for the lolz.  I like laughing, I like making other people laugh and I like making potentially shit situations funny.  I'm a pretty firm believer in the phrase "if you can't do anything about it, laugh like hell".  Oh you bet I'll laugh like hell.  And I'll make sure I laugh doubly loud to make it even more funny.  I like that being able to crack some lolz is an easy way to break the ice and get people talking, and I'm (often) able to do it.  Cool as, you gaaaiiz.  

TWO: I'm beginning to believe in my ability to change shit that I don't like.  This is something that I've only learned recently, and I'm not always successful but I'm getting better.  I'm learning to recognise that a lot of the things that I whinge about (and as a girl, I'm a born whinger) are things that I can change, and learning to actively take steps to change them.  Feel like I'm getting dumber in my old age?  Back to uni I go.  Feeling like a fat lump?  Hello diet/exercise changes.  Need to meet new people?  Start saying yes to invitations.  Booyah.  Life is on the up and up, bishes.

THREE: I'm a good listener.  I don't know what it is, but people tell me shit.  Shit that makes them go "jaysus I don't know why I just spilled that to you, I haven't told anyone about that".  As in, I've had several people make remarks to that effect when talking to me.  I'm not really one for dishing out unsolicited advice, but if you ask me, I'll do my best to tell it to you straight.  While I can't sort out my own life, baby you best believe I know exactly what you should be doing with yours.  But if advice is not what you seek, you can just vent at my face and I'll make active listening noises and nothing else.  Word.

I love me!  Yeah baby!  I'm the bomb!  Self-esteem!  Because you're worth it!  L'Oreal!  Wait, what?

bomb.

The Best Things That Happened This Week, you ask? So this week has kind of been a bit of a non-event, to be honest.  Fast forward a week and I'll have had a grand old time, as my super great pal Anna is coming to visit!  But anyway.

Best things:

- I went to geek club.  I managed to keep away from the pizza and only had one cider because I have bomb as will power, swooned over Tim Lambourne and listened to articulate, interesting banter between him and Zane Scarborough.  There is pretty much nothing more awesome than an attractive man who can intelligently debate a topic.  

- Following on from that, I googled Zane Scarborough when I got home and found out that he is a poet.  Who is a freaking poet these days?  Only Zane Scarborough, because he's the bizzomb.  Cue an evening of watching his youtube videos and crying, every time.  So, so good. 

- I bought these shoes and they are the bomb.

- I went to Best Ugly and ate the fucking BOMB AS bagel.

- I tried Gingerella ginger beer and it was the bomb diggity.  Since discovering that ginger beer is not the same as ginger ale (in December last year.  I found this out when I was TWENTY SEVEN.  For 27 years I assumed ginger beer was gross because ginger ale is.  I missed out for so long!) I have become somewhat of a ginger beer connoisseur, if you will, and Gingerella shot right to the top of my list. 

- I started my one-woman crusade to bring the term "the bomb" back into everybody's lives.

gross.

How am I meant to catch a husband if I have to reveal all this personal information?  The only way to legitimately find a man is to lie, lie, lie and hide your real self until he's well and truly tied to you.  That's right, right?

So Day 14 is "something disgusting that you do".  I do all manner of disgusting things, however I'm probably not going to divulge any of these filthy habits online.  The internet is forever, you guys!

Probably the worst thing that I'm willing to spill is drinking warm/flat lemonade with no qualms.  Oh, and constantly scrutinising my skin and inspecting my face.  But every girl does that.  So, there's that.

date.

Today I am really fucking tired and also, I just read Anna's post for Day 13 and I can't really top her date, so I figure there's no point.  I don't know her, and she doesn't know me, but she is totally my spirit animal (or person, but is that a thing?  I mean, she's obvs not an animal but spirit person doesn't ring right to me).

Actually, just quietly, I was thinking today that I'd have loved someone to have taken me on a date to the Paper Pirates 'exhibition' that was on at Silo Park this evening.  Possibly my new crush, Tim Lambourne (he's always been a background crush, but this escalated to full-blown after I went to geek club on Wednesday and heard him speak on the panel.  Can anyone say confident?  And articulate?  SEXY).  Because a. it's his thing (like, actually - he's a Paper Pirate) and b. even if he wasn't, he's cool and would be into doing biz like that.  I really wanted to go this evening and literally could not think of one person I know that would genuinely want to attend this.  This perhaps wouldn't have been my dream date (much more into dream dates where we go to a spa and I look fabulous and we stay at an incredible hotel and eat glorious food and basically just lounge around (all arms and legs and languid) being all stoked with each other's company) but it would be a realistic, actual date.  Burgers from Big J's (I've never been but hear it's a-mayyyy-ZING), a wander round Silo Park and then some drinks (we'd get drunk and fun but not out of control) and banter and some mean as local pub where everyone is cool and no one is intimidating.  That'd be my jam.

In other news, today I bought two pairs of reading glasses (prescription-ised, bitchez) for $36 including delivery.  GET OUT OF TOWN I KNOW HOW GREAT.  In final news for this evening, two days is not long enough for this weekend as I have school biz to do plus a party to attend plus some shoes to buy to wear to said party plus a hangover to have plus I have to spend time with my little sister plus I'd like to laze around a bit.

But hey.  I got this shit.

ex-factor.

Day 12.  What would I say to an ex?  

Not much, really.  Something along the lines of "hey, what's up, how's life?" etc.  I don't have any exes that I'm not on speaking terms with.  So that's lucky.  

Actually...

I might even apologise to one (...two) of them.  I mean, I should really, but I'm pretty shit at confronting things like that so I just hope they know how sorry I am.  For being an indecisive, trying to have it all, generally average girlfriend.  And to another?  If I had the guts, I'd say something along the lines of "what the...".  What is this sorcery that kept us together and what's up with this fuckery of yours that always pushed me away?

But I don't have the guts, and ignoring that kind of thing works fine, for me.

You tell 'em, Kelly.

single-town.

SERIOUSLY BLOGGING CHALLENGE WHAT IS THIS Y U NO STOP GOING ON ABOUT SINGLE-ISM?  Today I get to write about my  "current relationship; if single, discuss how single life is".

I feel like my previous posts have covered this a little lot.  I am forever alone and right now I am okay with that.  The alone part.  I'm hopeful that the forever part is just something I've added in for the lolz/dramaz and it won't actual eventuate.  That's probable.  Right?  

Panic.

I enjoy single-town at the moment because I'm pretty sure I have fuck all time to do the things that I want to do, without considering someone else and what they want to do and spending time together and snooze-snooze-snoozathon-blah-blah-blah-yawn-relationship.  I do the work thing a lot, and the working out thing (as of recently), and the mentor thing, and as of this week the Uni thing part time, and currently the blogging thing.  On top of that I have mooching about time, sleeping time, party time, shopping time etc and boyfriend time simply does not fit the equation.  

Anyway, so obvs relationship life is sweet (because you get a partner that writes poetry like this, right?) and you get someone who is always there and shit but on the flip side they are ALWAYS THERE and shit.  As previously mentioned, while I don't want to feel alone, I like to be alone so the thought of someone always being there gives me the heebie jeebies.  I would like to have someone 'on tap', as it were, because I am selfish and only care about myself, but am very aware that nobody wants to be that person for me because that would be shitty as fuck.  

And thus, because I am selfish and want to do what I want, all the time, I am (and thankfully, because really, I don't have a choice) at peace with being of the singular variety.  Currently.  

In other news, I'd like to say a big "fuck you" to squats, and squat thrusts.  

waster.

Crikey, some of these topics are really forcing (forcing?  Well, requesting at least) me to throw some potentially controversial opinions out there.  To all six people that have accidentally come across this blog...   

yeah, she's a feisty one alright.

Day 10: My views on drugs and alcohol.  I'm no straighty-180, pals, but at the same time I'm not about to shake your hand and give you a medal if you have a daily booze/drug habit.  People are going to do what they want and all I say is don't do it too much.  And watch it's affect on other people.  This kind of shit ain't just about you.  It's pretty simple.  

Based on my experiences, I have no qualms with occasional and social use of either or.  I've had some great times and while I've been lucky enough to never have really had any completely terrible times, I have definitely had some decidedly average times.  I've tried this and that and would maybe try something else as well, although I am pretty sure I'm not about business that you try with a needle.  I've toned it down a little (in terms of the frequency, at least) as I've gotten older however I still like to party.  I'd party all the time, if my body could handle/I could afford/it wouldn't ruin my life.  But I understand that it can't/I can't/it would.  

It's easy to get hypocritical with things like this, because I guess it's all based on you and your experiences.  Boozing/drugging all the time is bad.  Boozing/drugging sometimes (to excess, even) on the weekends is okay?  I don't know.  Do what you want.  But be safe.

Preach, Aubrey.

Cheers, bishes.

romantical.

So it would seeeeeeeem that this 30 Day Challenge (I didn't read ahead so every day is a surprise, hooray!) is designed to make me feel shit about how ALONE I am because day 9 is encouraging me to write about my last kiss.  

Kisses Schmisses, who needs 'em?

I'm assuming that this topic is not referring to the abundance of kissing I do in my everyday life.  Cheek kissing and what not.  I'm assuming that this topic is referring to serious real life kissing of the romantic variety and the more I think about that, the more weird I realise it is.  Um, ew you guys.  No one wants to know about that shit.

Point being, my love life is pretty non-existent and thus I can't really remember my last kiss.  I doubt I could be all that descriptive about a kiss though.  It was um, on the mouth?  With a consenting adult man?  And enjoyable?  And beautiful and tidy and not gross and if you saw it in a film you'd be like "aww yeah" not "ew gross"?

Whatever, my life is way cooler without pashing all the boys, anyway.

Sometimes there's only one person in this situation.
I'm just welcoming myself.

worrisome.

Something I'm worried about.  I'm constantly worrying.  Right now I'm worried about the following:

• Uni.  I start back tomorrow and I've been out of the study game for a few years now.  I am certain that the older I get, the less intelligent I become and I'm terrified that I won't be able to cope with the two papers that I have this semester.  My first assignment is due in two weeks.  I'm shitting myself.
• My current obsession with Snak Logs coupled with how fat I currently am (fuck you, extra hungry winter stomach!) coupled with my piss-weak exercise attempts of late.  Twenty minutes of planks/squats/bicep curls daily are a poor defense against my severe lack of will power when it comes to sugary treats masquerading as muesli bars.  
• I need to clean my room.
• I need to make a decision as to whether I buy a car and stay in Auckland or not, and leave.
• As much as I am currently at peace with not being in a relationship, I do worry that it could be like this forever.  Not helped by the fact that I have two little brothers with what seem like quite serious girlfriends.  And the fact that my back up husband may be getting himself into a long term relationship which means that I'll need to find myself another one.

Yay memes!

It's a girl's prerogative to worry.  Rationally.  Irrationally.  All the dang time.

perfection.

No disclaimer this time.  I got home last night (at 11pm, a respectable hour for a Saturday night, bordering on embarrassingly early), thought about writing this but then decided my time would be better spent facebook stalking.  So that's what I did.  Honesty is the best policy, you guys.  Am I right?

Welcome to my opinion on cheating.  I didn't really want to write this, as I have really mixed feelings.  I don't mean that I'd ever support cheating, but I do mean that I can see why someone would.  Understanding it is definitely not being okay with it and it does bring to light some serious character flaws that someone would need to work on.  Like being cowardly, I think.  Too cowardly to get out of a relationship that is obviously not working for you.  And being honest.  Being honest with yourself, that something isn't working, and being honest with the other person.  

Cheating is bullshit.  In a perfect world, we'd never get into relationships that weren't right.  But I guess that that would require people to stay the same, forever.  In a perfect world we'd all be confident and forthright enough to be able to say what we felt, to just do us and everyone would respect each others feelings.  But I guess I'm just wishing for world peace.

So there you have it.  My opinion on cheating.  Yeah it's shit.  But we're not perfect.  Probably not the most popular opinion out there but...

Hey.  It's my blog.

Just tricking, there is a disclaimer.  This is my opinion on one time cheating, when you made a big fucking mistake and (deservedly) felt like a piece of shit afterwards and came clean about it and didn't do it again.

If you are long term affair-ing or having a pash etc with a different person every weekend or what not?  You're a sack of shit.  And you know it.

End.

better.

Disclaimer: I started writing this last night but I fell asleep because I am an old woman and I can't stay up late, even when I'm in the middle of doing something.  But whatever.  I don't have to apologise to you (no one).  Mostly I'm just disappointed.  In myself.

Anyway, Day 6 (yesterday) is "Describe the person you like".  Right now I'm relationship-free (ah, so free!  Aren't I lucky?!  Hmmph.) so I can't describe an actual boyfriend, however I described an ideal boyfriend a few days ago.  Hmmm.  Conundrum.

There is, however, a fella that I have a crush on.  A real, in my life person, someone who I keep in touch with kind of but who I haven't actually physically seen/spoken to in a number of years.  So it's likely that these characteristics are somewhat made up.  Well, not so much made up but I may have embellished them somewhat.  Not like that, you perves.

He's tall, but not overly tall, and kind of has that hipster look going on.  But he's intelligent and can back up the nerd-glasses look.  He's well travelled, has a great job that he genuinely enjoys and loves music.  He's creative, has a bit of banter and loves his family.  He likes to go out but isn't a pisshead and doesn't just go and get wasted in the hopes that it'll lead to a fun night.  He drinks because he's an adult and enjoys it, he does thing things (i.e. real activities) and makes plans and spends his money (mostly) wisely.

I've basically just described the person that I want to be (albeit in male form).  And he's (basically, as far as I know) a real person!  I'm not looking for a twin, but in the same breath it'd be nice to date someone who makes me want to be a better person.

I'd like to imagine I could hang off the arm (what is that phrase?) of someone like this:

I mean, he likes cats and isn't afraid
to smile, you guys.

In other news, the 30 day fitness challenge is still a nightmare.  But we're a week down!  Cripes.

peeves.

And on Day 5, we name five irritating things about boys and girls.  Everyone knows that girls are perfect, of course, but for the sake of this challenge I'll play along.  I'm a good sport, what can I say?  Here's to stereotyping and generalising!

Five things that grind my gears about myself, as a woman:

• We worry about things too much.  We worry about what people think of us and as a result, spend all our time comparing ourselves to other girls.  We worry that we're not as pretty, or smart or pure or skinny or in love with the environment or career minded as the next girl and crikey, what will everything think?!  The answer is "nothing".  People won't think about it.  Very few people are thinking about you all the time, ladies.  This worrying business is time-wasterly and boring and pointless and impossible to stop.
• JAYSUS CAN WE STOP IT WITH THE SLUT SHAMING ALREADY.  And the fat shaming.  And all that.
• We're really emotional.  Rationally, of course, but also incredibly irrationally emotional.  And double-standard-y.  And change mind-y.  And grudge hold-y.
• The way we talk.  I know, it's not all girls but you know the girls I mean.  Girls like me.  Who say "totes" and "def" and "I knowwwww right?" and shriek and get all high pitched when they're excited/annoyed and what not. 
• We over analyse everything.  All of the things.  Why so and so said those words in that order in that tone at that time of day via that communication medium to that person whilst wearing those clothes and standing in that stance while looking sideways (were they looking sideways?  Or do they just have weird squinty eyes?  Have they always had squinty eyes?  Are they ill?  Are their contacts uncomfortable?) at that animal/vegetable/mineral etc.  See this and then see yourself as a woman and then go "yikes, that is me" and then wish you could do something about it BUT YOU CAN'T.

Five things that grind my gears about men:

• Slut shaming.  Rape jokes.  Asking if it's "that time of the month".  Unless you're asking me whether it's that time of the month where I punch you in the throat, then no.  No, no, nope. 
• Always (oh come on.  Often, at the very least) looking for sexy time.  Which leads me to the "Hey" text, and variations thereof.  We all know what you mean when you text "Hey" at 2am.  Or anytime, actually.
• They're so simple.  I don't mean like simple "duh" but simple "clear, to the point, say what they mean" which, when coupled with women who over analyse any/everything makes them near on impossible to work out, because there is no way that we're going to be satisfied with simplicity.  I don't know that this is a man problem, actually.  What I mean is, I don't understand men.
• Their obsession with putting their hands in their pants.  What is this constant rearranging/itching business?  Is it really that uncomfortable all of the time?  Ohhhh which leads me to guys sitting with their legs spread mad far apart.  Would it kill one knee to be within a foot of the other?
• Having no idea about things.  Sometimes guys are so thick, and it comes not from mental retardation, but from genuinely not understanding that some things are not okay to say/do.    Should you wear your old jeans to a wedding?  No.  Should you comment on a women's meal choice?  No.  Ughhhh.

Conclusion?  We're all idiots.  It's a surprise the world has yet to implode from the weight of our stupidity.

snooze.

Today's topic belongs in Snoozetown.  But actually.

It's "What do you wear to bed?" as if anyone cares.  As in, I sleep solo because I am singular so no one, least of all me, cares what I wear to bed.  

Thus the answer is whatever I want.  

Any number of pyjama bottoms, trackies, weird harem-y pants from Cotton On or leggings with some kind of slobby tshirt or singlet, sometimes hoody dependent on the temperature.  Shit, I might even start the night off with a pair of socks, however these are inevitably gone by morning.  I sleep clothed, whatever the weather.  I'm not a naked sleeper, it makes me uncomfortable and if that makes me a prude or insecure or whatever then yeah, probably.  Whatever.  

So there's that.

What I do want to talk about, is how I just discovered this dress from Juliette Hogan this evening when I was mooching around Pinterest looking for bridesmaid dress ideas (I'm the bridesmaid, obvs) and it was this evening that I realised that shit, son, I freaking love a bunch of stuff she has done.  I have already messaged Mumsie to see if she can make me something like this because she is a seamstress extraordinaire.  Lucky me.  

Swoony swoon swoon.

Also, we've completed Day 4 of our 30 Day exercise challenge thing and today I piked on a plank because I suck, and also because I think my butt is too giant/heavy and gravity is pulling it to the floor which is making my back arch all weird which is hurty as hell.  Hashtag heavy butt rage.  Also it's only been four days and I'm already mad bored with the exercises but I WILL PERSERVERE AND DO THE DANG 30 DAYS BECAUSE IF I CAN'T WELL THAT IS NOT OKAY AT ALL.

attraction.

Hello, hubby.

Today is the 3rd challenge and we're talking about what attracts you to someone.  I suppose this could mean someone anyone, but everyone knows this really means what attracts you to a partner.  Matthew Gray Gubler attracts me.  Sans surname though.  But everyone also knows that if I manage to catch a husband, I'm not taking his surname.  I'm keeping mine, for no other reason than I just like the way my full name sounds.

Tangent.

What attracts me to someone is tricky.  I'm pretty pathetic on the ol' love front and when it's come to dating, I've only really had a few proper relationships.  Two with guys that worshipped the ground I walked on, not because I'm particularly great but more so because they are just genuinely sweet, loving, men who show their affection by doting on someone.  Turns out that doesn't work for me; I go in feeling so romantical and lovely and come out feeling smothered and resentful that someone could "love" me so much that I could have walked all over them, had I wanted to.  Nobodies fault, just a poor match.  Another relationship that was on and off for years was with a guy that wanted to look after me, which I liked in theory but in reality it turns out I hated the fact that he (I thought) felt I couldn't look after myself.

However, the last "proper" relationship I was in mostly worked and I think I can stand back and view the reasons why it did, with the clarity that comes with time.  

He wasn't afraid to introduce me to his friends, he wasn't afraid to be affectionate, he wasn't afraid to call me out on my shit and he was just really fucking fun and wanted to get out there and do shit.  I'd probably stay in reading all day if I could, so someone who wants to drop everything and go on a roady is exactly what I need.  He loved being with me, but he didn't need me.  I didn't complete him, I complimented him.  What more could you want?

Superficially, I'm attracted to men who are taller than me (I like heels but I hate feeling like a giant), blue/green/anything that's not brown eyes are killer, a Scottish/British/Irish accent will pretty much make my clothes fall off and great style (someone who dresses like an adult, not a 18yr old pub monkey) absolutely slays me.   

I'm attracted to creative people who have their own opinions but are open minded and willing to discuss things.  But to repeat myself, I guess the most important thing is that a person have their own life.  

To have someone want you in their life even when they don't need you is probably the ultimate.

okay.

Me and my best ladies on my last night out in Auckland
before the big move back to Queenstown - July 2011.

Day two and she's back!  Straight into it: "How have you changed over the past two years?".  More like how haven't I changed.  I'm still spending about ALL of my time wondering what I could do next, where I could go, live, work and wondering if it'll all ever just "click".

In saying that, this time in 2011 I'd just moved back to Queenstown after attempting a real life grown up job in Auckland.  Over the past two years, just over one in QT and almost one back here in Auckland, I've realised that I'm okay.  

That it's okay that I'm 28 and it hasn't clicked yet.  

That it's okay that I'm 28 and single.  

That it's okay that I'm 28 and I don't know where I want to live.

That it's okay that I'm 28 and I'm not sure that my job is the job.

I've just got to do me.  And if doing me takes time, then time it'll take.

In these last two years I've had super long hair, that I cut really short, and then shorter again.  I started making decisions about my health and actually doing shit about it.  Real shit, like exercising and making better decisions (it ain't perfect but it's improving) about what I put into my body rather than just wishing I'd magically lose weight.  I've gained confidence from pushing myself out of my comfort zone.  I went on two dates with people I met online - something I attempted two years ago but failed miserably at.  I got a big ol' tattoo on my arm.

I've been emotional in all kinds of ways.  I think that must be an age thing.  I'm letting down my guard a little because I'm starting to care a little less about what people think and letting things in so I can feel real 'feels' is pretty okay.

I feel like, I've changed a bunch and I've not changed at all.  If this is how things carry on, I wouldn't be too upset.

start.

So I've come across this 30 day blogger challenges, variations of which can be found more or less everywhere on the internet, attempted by everyone and their mum. I've got no qualms about this shit, sure it's not original but neither is having a blog and I'm new and shut your face I don't need your judgement get out of here (everyone loves an overreaction). 

 Day 1 is "Weird things you do when you're alone". I do tonnes of stupid shit when I'm alone, generally of the "dancing like a twat, trying to be a really great dancer, attempting to beatbox/rap, acting like I'm some kind of amazing singer, repeatedly going back and forth between wherever I am and the fridge to see if anything new has turned up, falling into the black hole of the internet and finding myself looking at photos of cats in denim vests (or similar), inspecting my face, attacking my brows with the tweezers, giving myself pep talks re: doing some exercise and then rolling my eyes at myself re: the futility of it all" variety. When I'm alone I also seem to have the attention span of a toddler, and I'll cycle through all these activities at a rapid pace and then start all over again, going from dancing to internet-ing to tweezing to singing to eating and back to dancing.

I love being alone. I read this article by Stephen Fry, the other day and he said (among other things):

I don’t want to be alone, but I want to be left alone.

I actually cannot stop thinking about that.  I love being alone, but I hate to feel like I'm alone.  It's a fine line, I guess.

Anyway, there's your insight for today.  Coincidentally, today my flattie and I have started a couple of 30 Day Fitness Challenges:  Abs, Arms, Squats and Planking.  So far so hideous, and we're only one day in.  It should be good, doing it together though.  

Only 29 days to go.

In other news, here is the new haircut.  The bangs situation is
purposely cropped out while I work out what to do with it.  Yikes.

remember?

Hey, remember that time that I started a blog and wrote one entry then came back to it no less than three months later because hahahahahahaha? SNAP, samesies! 

Stay tuned, you guys. I'm going to get into one of those 30 day blogger challenge things and then AH HA I will be a fully fledged internet writer and suck it, it's going to be awesome.

Starting... tomorrow.

No but actually.

In other news, I got my hair all cut off and now, depending on how I style it, I look like a middle aged woman trying to have a hip, edgy haircut (think blunt bob with full on fringe, lego-head style) or a six year old girl. It's great. Here's to spending the rest of winter in a beanie because I'm vain like that.

introducing.

I've only been wanting to start writing a proper blog for what feels like forever, and it's only taken me forever to actually do it.  Yeah, cool story bro.

What are you actually meant to write in your first post? Do you just launch into it? That seems rude, like gate crashing a party, barreling up to the nearest guest and yarning about that local sports team as if it's no big deal, without so much as an introduction. I've had a spy through some of my favourite blogs to see what the general consensus is and it seems that there is none. So, in lieu of any guidelines, I give you a short introduction to... me. 

I'm ellie. I prefer the way my name looks with a lower case 'e'. I'm 28 and first attempted a blog when I was 19. I really regret not having carried on with that, to be honest as by now I'd be almost ten years in the game and not feeling my way through a fairly tragic first post. However I just read through that first blog attempt again and it was basically a diary. Less than interesting to anyone but me. So, so interesting to read my 19 (through 21) year old thoughts now, though; things that I thought were hugely important (of course) turned out to be mere blips on the radar in the grand scheme of things. I digress. I definitely hoped that by the time I was 28 I'd have a few things sorted, including enough disposable income to buy the things I lusted after, but alas this was not to be. Turns out I'm 28, have spent the last eight years travelling and doing whatever the heck I wanted with no regrets, but no real money in the bank, either.  So that's me.

I'm still not a hundred percent about what 'type' of blog this will be. I expect I'll loosely term it 'Lifestyle', in order to cover the inevitable random topics that I'll write about for the next wee while and cross my fingers that a direction will become obvious.  I like make up.  And hair.  And food.  And music.  And I'm pretending to like exercising.  So there's any number of things that I could go on about.  I can barely contain myself.  The world is my oyster.  It's just that I'm battling to shuck it, but hey, every day's a school day (I long for the school day when I learn how to open a bottle with a lighter.  WHEN WILL I FINALLY GET THAT?).

So here goes nothing. It can only get better, no?  I mean, probably.  Like, surely it can't get worse? 

Hello.  Here I am.