Eating Disorders, Society's Views and this is me standing on my soap box *again*

Just recently something has been irking me, a lot. There seems to be a spotlight on eating disorders in the media and pop culture. Glee, for instance, have recently introduced a character suffering from bulimia. This afternoon I finished reading "Paper Valentine" by Breanna Yovanoff, a book which features the ghost of a teenage girl who died after suffering from anorexia for a period of time.

I have had a lot to do with eating disorders, I've read everything about them that I can get my hands on. The statistics are shocking, with one in every three girls suffering from a body morphic disorder. So this kind of attention being paid to this issue is definitely a good thing. They do not in any way glorify the issue and they portray how damaging and painful these illness are. But they fall short in one important aspect - the person suffering is in no way at fault.

 If someone is suffering from an eating disorder, they are not selfish, or seeking attention or irresponsible. They are suffering. Just because you can't understand that particular brand of illness doesn't mean that it isn't one. I am a self confessed Gleek - but seeing the members of the Glee club mocking Marley the character with bulimia made me question my loyalty to the show. Finishing "Paper Valentine", a beautifully written novel by one of my favourite authors, I was left wanting more. Because where was the moral? A young girl dies and no one besides her equally young best friend tried to help her. That is a tragedy and the gravity of that wasn't dealt with.

There are so many different ways to get help, if you or a friend need it. No one should suffer alone, or in silence. No one should be mocked, or made to feel ashamed if they are suffering. When people are ignorant, when they don't understand, they can be mean. They can force there small minded opinions on you and make you feel unworthy. But you don't have to listen. And that is something that I had to find out the hard way.

Yes, I do accept your declaration of war

I've been busy recently. I've been working on my current project with the affectionate working title Autumn Novel. This is manuscript three and one that I'm extremely excited about. I've also been working on the formatting stuff for Sophie and Dion (debut novel) which will be out in the next month or so. Then I've been working on querying my second manuscript as well. There's so much more ground work to the writing business then I would have expected.

So thanks to all of this I've been quiet on the blogosphere. I thought that I'd share the music that has been inspiring me recently as penance for this. Enjoy!

We are never ever getting back together - Taylor Swift
Rolling in the deep - Adele
Why do you love me - Garbage
Wide Awake - Katy Perry
Not ready to make nice - Dixie Chicks
Breathe - Taylor Swift
Somebody that I used to know - Gotye
Part of me - Katy Perry
So what - Pink

How I write and doing things your own way

When I first decided to make an attempt at writing seriously, I failed.

My first proper novel sized project was about spies, secret societies and national secrets - and remains unfinished. The idea came the way most of my ideas have, I had a vivid dream that stuck with me after I woke. Within a few days of obsessively thinking about it I'd created characters with motives and back stories, I had subplots and something that I never had before a well thought out ending.

So, without much of an idea how to proceed, I put fingers to keyboard and I started writing. There were so many things that I didn't know, but the thing that I learned most quickly is writing is hard you guys. The majority of the time words don't flow from my mind on to the word document, some days its like I imagine running a marathon is. I can spend an hour staring at the screen and write a handful of sentences.

Upon discovering this I started to do some research. How do others do this? I wondered. Surely other authors must not have this issue, how else do they churn out story after story? I read Steven King's On Writing but felt like a failure when I was unable to finish the ten pages a day that he suggests. I read Maggie Stiefvater's blog where she says the key to success is having a strict plan - choose a time to write and adhere to it. I couldn't do this either, throughout high school and University never was I able to stick to a study schedule. This was no exception.

There are so many different writing tips out there if you go looking. Jeffery Deaver writes with his eyes closed, so as to envision the scene better. There are so many different techniques that are suggested for plotting; write character profiles, detailed synopsis and fleshing out each chapters before beginning.

I spent too much time trying to implement suggestions then I did writing. After twenty thousand words I was crippled with self doubt and the project died.

So when I had the idea for debut novel Sophie and Dion months went by before I started trying to write it. I was far too scared. But I did start and I kept at it until I finished. I'm not sure what the difference was, but I learned a valuable lesson - you need to do things the way that suit you. I can't structure my writing time - the same way I couldn't stick to a study timetable - I write when the urge hits me. Whether that be on my phone at a train stop, or scrawled on a spare piece of paper at lunch. I've written chapters on my Blackberry beneath the table at restaurants, at the beach and even in hospital when I had food poisoning. I am most creative when I allow myself to be spontaneous. I also learned that I'm a "pantser" rather then "plotter". That is to say I write by the seat of my pants. I don't spend hours on plots or character development - because the truth is I do most of that in my head. I spend hours day dreaming and fleshing out my characters in my mind until I know almost every little piece of them. Before I start writing I know the general structure, I write the scenes that I've seen in my head on post-it-notes so that I can visualize this and arrange them. I write down snatches of dialogue and build a plot around these.

I think that this is good advice for anything in your life that you want to do - whether that be running a marathon, saving money or raising a child. Read others advice and learn from it. But you need to do things the way that suits you, otherwise you're setting yourself up for failure. >

Why I didn't like 50 Shades of Grey - EL James

I don't normally like to write bad reviews - whether it be for a book, movie or any other form of pop culture - because I respect art and its artist. Just because I don't like something doesn't mean that hundreds of other people didn't love it. This especially goes for books. It gives me an eye twitch when I read authors writing sledge-hammer reviews of other writers work. There are enough critics in the world without us tearing down each others works as well.

That being said a lot of people have been asking for my opinion on Fifty Shades of Grey - EL James. I find when people ask for your opinion, they're actually asking you to agree with theirs. So I guess a lot of women have been reading the novel and asking me to gush over it with them. But I just can't.

I originally read Fifty Shades because a blogger that I have been reading for a few years was promoting it on her blog. Hers is one of the few blogs that I have found that talk about women's empowerment and sexuality, she's strong and independent and someone that I truly admire. So when I bought my own copy of Fifty Shades I was extremely disappointed. Not in the book, necessarily, but rather with the women who are reading it and have fallen so in love with its story.

Fifty Shades of Grey is an erotic fiction novel that was originally written as fan fiction of Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series. The protagonist, Anastasia Steele, is an inexperienced and naive young woman. When she meets multimillionaire Christian Grey she is instantly taken with him. On the surface he is enigmatic and charming, the epitome of the perfect man. Yet as Anastasia begins spending time with him she discovers that he is a sexual deviant with a love of S&M. One who wants to have a Dominant/Submissive sexual relationship with her.
For myself none of this was particularly confronting, it was not the first erotic fiction novel that I had read. It was the next part, the part where he writes her detailed contract including what she can eat, wear and how often she can exercise that I found difficult to swallow. Christian Grey is a misogynist who enjoys sexually punishing women and wants no other intimate relationship with them. For him women are a sexual toy and he doesn't not respect them as equals.

I think that it is okay to write controversial characters. Some of the best novels that I have read have had protagonists with outlooks that I very much disagreed with - Heathcliffe and Cathy in Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte, for example. But it is important to have a balance. There is a big difference between having a controversial character and promoting a morally wrong message. This is where I feel that Fifty Shades falls short. For the majority of the story Anastasia remains submissive to Grey in all aspects of her life, only at the very end of the book does she make any attempt at changing the tone of their relationship.

Through having such a submissive protagonist EL James is telling women young and old that it is okay to be treated with the inequality and manipulative control that Grey treats Anastasia. It is absolutely not. We live in a society where men still do not respect women. On the rare occasions that I go to nightclubs I have men touching me completely inappropriately and uninvited - and when I push them away they are surprised and annoyed. Because that is the social norm, I'm supposed to just accept it. The society that we live in tells girls not to dress a certain way, not to leave their drink unattended and not to go out at night alone - or they are putting themselves at risk of men. We teach young women not to get raped rather then teach men not to rape. That is the hard reality. Those who are influential in the creation of pop culture have a moral obligation not to promote this message. And I honestly feel that EL James does.

Strong, beautiful women who I admire have been swooning over these books for the last few months and I find myself disappointed in them. I understand its appeal. The majority of the public haven't been exposed to erotic fiction before. Its a novelty. But to be completely honest its not even a particularly good example of its genre. Go out and buy Bride Stripped Bare or With my Body both by Nikki Gemmell. Those are much better erotic fiction novels. Without the degradation of women.

Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey? Comment below, I'd love to hear what you thought.

An update and *no* my novel is not like Twilight

Last week I handed my manuscript over to the editor, to weave their magic. I'm conflicted about this, in one way I'm excited for it to be made shiny and take the journey from manuscript to novel. In another its like handing over my first born to a complete stranger and hoping that they take good care of it.

At least there is now progress! It's hard to believe that this is real. It still hasn't sunk in that I'm a few short months away from being a published author. Some days I'll be reading one of my favourite author's blogs and getting a case of life jealousies - only to have to remind myself that this is all within my reach.

So while my first manuscript is getting its face lift I'm querying my second, and slogging through my third. So I guess that I've reached a point where I can call myself a writer, without mumbling it under my breath or blushing.

When I started writing my first manuscript, I didn't tell anyone. I spent a year living a secret life, because I was embarrassed about the dream that I was harboring. It was only once I had a publishers interested in it that I stepped out of the metaphorical writers closet, and I quickly wished that I could step right back in. People suck - not that, that probably comes as a surprise to anyone. But *seriously*. Here are an example of the reactions I have gotten when I've confessed I've written a novel.
"Paranormal Romance? So it's just like Twilight?"
"It's about vampires... Right?"
"It's not like Twilight? So it must be similar to Harry Potter?"
"You wrote a novel? Have you read Fifty Shades of Gray?"

Okay, so not everyone has been so negative. I'll admit the majority of people in my life have been supportive. And I'm very thankful for that.

It's my intention to do a better job of blogging. So stay tuned for more. Otherwise follow me on Twitter. The link is over that way >>>>

Rachael x

A leave of absence and how I have spent 2011

How do you begin a blog post after not writing for close to 12 months? Damned if I know, but here we go.


In just over a week’s time I will be 21. The most daunting anniversary of my birth that has so far occurred. It has also now been 12 months since I finished University. How time flies and all of that.


It’s a good time to reflect, I think, on what I have achieved and where I want to go. I am content, or as content as I ever am, with where I am at this point in my life. With a degree, a passion and a grown-ass relationship. There are still things that I want to add to that list; a career that inspires me, to be better travelled, to be more at peace with myself. But they will either come or they won’t.


I have spent the last 12 months largely devoted to the one project. One that has taken me a countless number of hours, arguably unhealthy quantities of chocolate, 75,000 words and over 300 pages to complete. When I began I never dreamed that it was something that I could actually finish. But I did. Sometimes if you have a dream you have to nut up or shut up. Quit lamenting about it and sit down and do it (or stand, I guess it depends on the dream.)

What they don’t tell you when you begin to do whatever it is that you’ve dreamed about doing, is the emotional rollercoaster it takes you on. The euphoria, the crippling self-doubt, the satisfaction. It is all one big nauseating hot pot. But it is worth it.


It has been 12 months since I finished my degree. The first 12 months in almost my entire young life that I have been able to choose how I would fill it. I filled it with achieving something that I have wanted to do since I was old enough to hold a pen (back when children didn’t learn to use a computer before they learnt to read.)
I now have a manuscript and a voicemail message dated three days ago that made me cry in disbelief when I heard it. I don’t know what is going to happen. But I do know the satisfaction of finally just doing it.


I also know that I may be a little masochistic. I thought that after the tears, sweat and time that went into my first manuscript I would have sworn the process off. Now I’m 25,000 words in to a second one, so I guess not.

It all leaves me wondering where I will be in another 12 months.

These are the most amazing books ever ever

____________

If you haven't read anything by Maggie Stiefvater you definitely should. Now go read :]
http://www.fountainbookstore.com/autograph-maggie.

Remembering what I've forgotten...

This week I received a piece of advice that I am never likely to forget. She looked me in the eyes and said something no-one else ever has:
“It seems to me that you spend far too much of your time doing, maybe life is actually about being.”

Which made me think; what are the memories that are going to stick with me? It’s certainly not going to be my GPA or whether I score an excellent internship. The things that I’m going to remember aren’t the same ones that appear on my resume.

It’s going to be different things entirely that I hold onto:
Lying in a bed of hundreds of balloons giggling with Jade on his 21st birthday.
Singing Ke$ha’s “Dinosaur” with my little sister in the car, laughing at how stupid the lyrics are.
The time that mum started laughing in the cinema and couldn’t stop. The three of us clutching our stomachs, tears running down our cheeks while the people around us tittered in annoyance.
It’s the book that I can’t put down. The song that captures exactly how I’m feeling. The movie that has me sobbing openly.

Life isn’t suppose to be serious. Somehow I’ve lost my grasp on that. I’ve been so busy trying to find myself, that I’ve forgotten to look in the most obvious place.

But I’m starting to remember now; I’m the girl who laughs at everyone’s jokes. The girl who stood in the sun for 11 hours because she believes in something. The girl who loves to be kissed on the forehead. The girl who bought a Jacob Black shirt and proudly wears it to bed. The girl who tells everyone with a serious look that she has a crush on Kevin Rudd. I’m the girl who wears the same pair of earrings to Brisbane everyday because the person who gave them to her is so important that they make her feel safe.

Perhaps I never lost myself. Perhaps what I lost was perspective.

Ehmm, Julia Gillard can I have a word?

I wanted you to know something; I do not like you.

I have tried, I really have, but I haven't had any success. There are certainly things that I can respect about you. I appreciate that you are Australia's first female Prime Minister. Considering that little over 200 years ago women weren’t even enfranchised, this is an amazing, inspiring feat. I also respect how well media trained you are, although this is more thanks to your media team then yourself. I also very much liked you calling Tony Abbott “naïve”. Honestly, those are the only things that I can think of.

There are too many reasons that I don’t like you. It does not matter what you tell me about Kevin Rudd, I am physically pained thinking about your mutiny. I do not care if he was an autocratic leader, I do not care if his policies were misguided or not well justified and I certainly do not care that he did not have the support of the factions. Here’s the thing Gillard, you betrayed Kevin Rudd in a big, unforgivable way. You opened my eyes to a side of politics, a side of my party, that I hate.

I have some other issues that I would like to discuss with you. For instance, I don’t appreciate the “race to the middle” on policies. I’m tired of hearing “moving forward.” Also when you explained that people smugglers are “evil people” I was on the verge of repeatedly hitting my head against the wall. Really Gillard? It physically pains me that someone that close minded is running my country.

I have been told that my view on politics is anything but “pragmatic” (*shudder*). Unfortunately this is how I feel Gillard and I doubt there is anything you can do to change this.

What I would like you to know is that I will be voting Labor on election day. But unlike the rest of the country, my vote will not be based on party leadership (heaven knows who I’d give my vote to if that was the case). I will vote Labor because I genuinely want the candidate for my electorate to win. I will be ticking Chris Cumming’s box because, unlike yourself, I will be illustrating solidarity through supporting my party’s members.

Good luck Gillard. I sure hope you win this election or you are going to have a hell of a lot of regrets.

Dearest old friend...

It has been a long time. The words "I've missed you" sit at the tip of my tongue. I wonder, if I did speak them, whether either of us would believe me.

There was a time when you were the centre of my universe, I orbitted you like a satellite. You coveted me for yourself, and I? Well I certainly didn't object. I relished your constant scrutiny and contempt. I devoted myself to winning your ever unattainable approval. Our friendship was turmulous and intense. Not a moment passed in which I was not wrapped in your influence. Together we hated, desired and destroyed. Yet, remained inextricably linked.

When I think about our short shared past, I do so with a whimsical smile. Does this surprise you? My memories aren't tainted with the red hot abhorrence that coloured our time. I recognise you as an important, essential part of my past. No matter how hard I try to escape you will always be apart of me. Enscribed deeply at the heart of everything I do.

I write of you in past tense. Yet your haunting the corners of my life once more. I'm not surprised to see you. No more then you are that you have returned. I accept your return. I understand that it doesn't matter how long your absence spans you will always reappear.

So here we go again. Know however that things are different then they were. Much. As we shuffle to rediscover where each of this fit do know this. I'm not the same person that I was then.

I suppose I should say at least this, welcome back.

I'm all about instant gratification

Day One: So today is my first of thirty days without chocolate. On my Life List I included the goal "(20.) Go a whole 30 days without eating chocolate". Before today the longest I've ever gone without chocolate is probably about two weeks. I'm not sure how I'm going to go.

I only hope that if I have a breakdown and find myself unable to survive the cravings I retain my dignity. That is to say that I have my fingers crossed that this doesn't result in my taking up residence in Woolworth's confectionary ailse, stuffing my face with stolen chocolate bars while making suggestive noises in delight.

*Deep Breath* but that shouldn't happen. I hope. Well here goes nothing.

Day Two: Came this close to ruining the whole thing. Yes, I am telling you that I almost couldn't go TWO DAYS without chocolate!

In my defense it was more of a slip of mind. I woke up at 7 to get ready for work. Stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen in search of food. Not finding any I decided to make a hot chocolate. I had the cup warming my hands and almost at my lips when I realised.

It was a sad moment to watch it pour down the sink.

Day Three: Surprisingly easy after yesterdays almost mishap.

Day Four: Even easier today!

Day Five: Ridiculously easy! Perhaps I should amend it to "30 days without junk food" so it is actually a challenge?

Day Six: You know what I like? Katy Perry's California Gurls film clip.
(See, thats how easy this is. I'm not even thinking about chocolate!)

P.S I just watched the film clip again. Change my mind. All of those lollies and chocolate bars definitely has me thinking about chocolate.

Day Seven:
Oops.

Let me paint you a picture:
Me: *standing at the coffee machine at work*
Co-worker: Rachael? Will you set up the fudge machine for me? I've never done it before. You're so supremely excellent that your bound to know how.
Me: Well seeing as I'm not only excellent but also benevolent and lovely I will certainly set up the fudge machine.
(I'm paraphrasing here...)

After three attempts I manage to get all of the pieces in the correct order and have it functioning. I then spoon the thick, creamy fudge into it and switch it on. Carrying the spoon and empty bowl to the sink, my mouth waters as the chocolatey smell fills my nostrils. Acting on instinct I dip my finger into the remanants of the fudge in the bowl. My tastebuds sing a course of "hallelujah" as I lick the thick fudge off my finger.

Me: Mmm chocolate. Hang on. S*** chocolate!

Day One Here we go again...

The realisation that my employers are benevolent people...

The fact that I have my manual licence is something that I try to keep quiet at work. I've had my provisional licence for almost a year in that time I've driven a manual car, well, never. The minute I passed my test I decided I was only going to drive automatic cars. This is an oath that I've maintained- except for the odd occassion I've had to drive the work ute. The few times that this has occurred have all been traumatic experiences. Blurs of embarrassing stalls, clutch dumps and my inability to turn off its handbreak.

So when my manager came to ask me whether I'd take the rubbish to the compactor. I shuddered.


Me: Uhmm. Sure. You couldn't find anyone else?
Manger: *small smile* Sorry you're the only one I have. How confident are you about driving the ute? About 90 per cent?
Me: About 60?
Manager: *bigger smile* we'll say you're 75 per cent confident. I'll take over what you're doing. Me: *stifles a sigh. Begins to walk away*
Manager: Oh Rachael? I'm not saying that you will run out of petrol, but the empty light is on, so...


I retrieved the keys, a radio and the new girl to accompany me. The trip to the compactor went surprisingly well. I didn't stall once. I didn't run anyone over and I bonded with the new girl.


Every employee is compactor trained during their induction. We're shown how to afix a wheelie bin to the compactor and how to mechanically lift it to empty its contents. The truth is, however, that after being trained noone ever goes to the effort. Reality is that we completely skip the wheelie bin part and throw the garbage bags straight in.

This isn't usually a problem. Every time I've taken the rubbish I've had a man come with me. Men who were stronger then either me or new girl. Thus we were forced to use the wheelie bin manouever.


Between both of our limited knowledge we were able to attach the wheelie bin and use a big medal lever to pick it up. What we weren't able to do was convince the bin lid to open so that the rubbish would slide out. After five minutes of us readjusting the position of the bin, it still would not empty.


We were looking at each other in frustration.
New girl: Maybe you need to tip it up further?
Me: I'm worried about doing that though. I don't want to be the person who manages to drop the wheelie bin into the compactor.


My advice? In a situation such as this, never say something like that. Fate heard me and literally giggled in delight. A heartbeat after I spoke those words, sure enough
the bin tumbled straight into the compactor.


Rumour has it that the compactor was broken after that and had to be taken away.


I was convinced that I was going to get fired. I held my breath for three days afterwards, ducking behind walls or into coldrooms whenever I saw one of the girls from human resources.


On the third day, I was feeling a little more confident and confessed to a couple of my collegues what had happened. Almost all of the conversations followed the same general path.
Me: So, I broke the compactor.
Them: *laughs* I heard about that. Was that you? What'd you do?
Me: I dropped a wheelie bin it.
Them: Oh yeah? I've done that at least four times. Did you climb in after it?
Me: Did I climb into the compactor? What?! No?!
Them: Yeah, that's what I do. At least you'll know what to do next time.
Me: Next time?!


I've heard my fellow employees make many complaints about my employer. But you've really got to hand it to them, they sure are forgiving...

Good job Kevin Rudd. I, for one, will grieve you.

What I’ve realised over the last 24 hours is just how deeply my passion for politics goes. It is a passion that has been blooming slowly. Reading through old journals I laugh every time I see my childish scribbling detailing the outcomes of elections. I enrolled in University with the intention to study Journalism. I wanted to report Politics- an extension of what I’d been doing since I could write! After taking a single politics course- and with a push in the right direction from my tutors- I decided reporting wasn’t enough. I want to be involved.


This dream has altered over time. But if anybody asks what my ambition is my response is simple “I’m going to be Kevin Rudd’s press secretary.” This goal sticks, Prime Minister or not. He has been one of my key inspirations. I have a hard time understanding and accepting his demise. He was, for more than two years, the most popular Prime Minister in Australian history. That is ever, guys. In case you missed that. I can’t believe that a party could turn on a member as brutally as they have. Perhaps I missing something, but I was feeling very confident about Kevin Rudd’s prospects. Now? I’m feeling very pessimistic. Not to mention a little sour. As much as I want us to win, as loyal to my party as I am; if the election is a loss you can’t say that we didn’t deserve it.


Despite this distaste as a Political Science major and a Labor party member I’m feeling hugely inspired. There’s little denying that the events of last night and this morning are the most exciting to occur in politics of my young life. (Second only to the election of Kevin Rudd, but I appreciate not everybody will second this opinion). If only this had happened at the start of the semester! I want to know more, I want to do more, I want to be more involved. If I had doubts about completing a year of honors I’m feeling much more spurred on!


Over the last three years I’ve encountered a lot of negativity towards politics and my interest in it. This has come from a number of places; strangers who ask what degree I’m studying, friends, extended family members even my University colleagues. But those closest to me have always supported me; whether or not they can comprehend where my interest has come from. I’d like to say “without being offensive”, but it’s my blog so I’ll write whatever I feel like: people who say that politics is boring or make derogative comments about it are uneducated gits. Even if you’re not interested there’s no getting around the fact that it is important. The same people that are commenting on it have absolutely no idea. I read a status on Facebook today that said something along the lines “Kevin Rudd is a pussy. Man up and finish your term.” I know. I couldn’t believe it either.


While I go back to grieving for my long-time hero I’ll be keeping this in mind; if I work hard enough and commit myself enough next time I’ll be in the midst of it. Not reading about it on social networking sites.

This is for you...

I’m not a person of very much faith. I’m too cynical, rely too heavily on fact. But when I think about my life and the people that I have in it I truly believe that I am blessed.



There is little denying that what we’re all searching for is love. We all want to find that one romance that conquers all others. A person that we can connect with. We search for passion, understanding and beyond anything else we all seek acceptance.



I’ve experienced love in a great number of forms. And I’ve experienced an equal amount of loss. However I think that it is important to lose people. It’s a pain that can exceed any other, one that you will carry around with you. But if you can’t understand how much it hurts to lose, how can you know to appreciate love? If you don’t bleed how can you be sure that you are truly alive?



Love can be many different things. Butterflies dancing around in your chest. Anticipation that rolls circles around your stomach. The sheer disbelief that the person of your affections sees something within you that you can not.



But I think that a true love can be something else entirely. Something solid, something tangible, something that you can rest your head on. While passion and romance are significant, there is more to be experienced. What I have learnt, through an often perilous journey, is that love is about trust. Being able to blindly believe in another person. To be able to hand them your entire heart and trust that they will keep it in good condition. It’s about understanding. Knowing that some days they’re going to be in a bad mood, sometimes they need the space to breathe and that at times they need extra attention. It’s about acceptance. It is about someone accepting you’re silliness, eagerness to please and days of melancholy. Accepting them not as faults; but simply as a part of who you are.



I spend too much of time feeling anxious about the future and too little appreciating the present. Because after all the present is all we really have. I have a boy in my present who has taught me how to laugh at myself. A boy who, despite his strong desire for independence, has learnt to rely on me. A boy for whom I would sacrifice everything; but who will never ask me to. My present is centred around a boy who I love. A love that is tangible and huge.

Things to do before I die...

With university finally finished I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about what I actually want to do with my life. The idea that I may never get a chance to do all the things that I want to do is equal parts overwhelming and terrifying.


So I made a list. It seemed like the only practical way to go about it.


So here you are. These are the things that I am going to do before I die:


(1.) Write a novel (05/08/2011) Publish a novel (03/08/2013)
(2.) Go horse back riding (09/04/2010)
(3.) Read 70 books in one year. (2010) Read 100 books in one year (2013)
(4.) Graduate University
(5.) Run a 5km fun run  (2014)
(6.) Make a scrap book (29/01/2012)
(7.) Own 10,000 books in a personal collection
(8.) Meet 3 of my absolute hero’s (1. Sheryl McMahon 02/06/2013)
(9.) Visit the Eiffel tower
(10.) Go to Disney World
(11.) Eat American pizza in America
(12.) Watch a game of soccer in England
(13.) Grow my hair until it reaches my lower back
(14.) Adopt a puppy (11/2012 Noodle, 07/2013 Ash.)
(15.) Own my own house
(16.) Be able to communicate in French
(17.) Eat snails
(18.) Eat stuffed mushroom
(19.)Go a whole 30 days without chocolate (26/10 – 26/11)
(20.) Have a baby
(21.) Visit every state and territory of Australia – ACT, QLD , NT, NSW , VIC, TAS, SA, WA
(22.) Go Zorbing
(23.) Go to 10 different zoo’s
1. Australia Zoo 01/07/2010)
2. Taronga Zoo 07/12)
3.Canberra National Zoo (13/09/2013)
(24.) Purchase something from Victoria Secret (05/12/2011)
(25.) Do the bridge walk at Sydney Harbor Bridge
(26.) Attend a professional ballet company performance (completed: 25/06/2010)
(27.)Be drunk
(28.) Shoot a gun
(29.) Go on a 6 hour road trip
(30.) Cook something using a blow torch, like on Master Chef
(31.) Live to 100 years old
(32.) See a US president in person
(33.) See “Hotel Sorrento” performed live
(34.) See “Rent” performed live by professionals
(35.) See “Cats” performed live by professionals
(36.) Grow sunflowers
(37.) Hold a dinner party and cook a four course meal
(38.) Be hands on, on a political campaign (2009)
(39.) Get married
(40.) Ride an elephant
(41.) Feed an Elephant (completed: 01/07/2010)
(42.) Swim with dolphins
(43.) Feed a dolphin
(44.) Learn basic Reflexology
(45.) Practice yoga once a week for 6 months
(46.) Have a white Christmas
(47.) Climb Mt. Coolum (11/11/2011)
(48.) Do 100 hours volunteer work
(49.) Take pictures in a photo booth (05/08/2011)
(50.) Dine in the dark like at Opaque in San Francisco
(51.) See “Ellen” live
(52.) Do jury duty
(53.) Finally own a copy of “Hotel Sorrento”
(54.) Read “Lolita” by Vladimir Nabokov(completed: July 2010).
(55.) Read 2 entire novels in one day (14/03/2014)
(56.) Overcome my hatred of salad (13/09/2012)
(57.) Receive a package (completed: 03/12/2010. Thank you Dee!)
(58.) Play a game of hockey (20/03/2011)
(59.) Have a picnic
(60.) Celebrate a solstice/equinox in a traditional pagan way
(61.) Watch Sheryl McMahon play live (02/06/2013)
(62.) Mail Christmas cards to at least 10 people
(63.) Write an Autobiography
(64.) Write an article/column for a magazine or newspaper
(65.) Stand on the roof a building with at least 100 stories
(66.) Go jetskiing
(67.) Knit something (06/2013)
(68.) Make a quilt
(69.) Go scuba diving
(70.) Have a birthday celebration for myself
(71.) Go to the Ekka (Completed: August 2010).
(72.) Celebrate 10 anniversary’s by giving traditional gifts
(73.) Get a photo taken with a python (Completed: 01/07/2010).
(74.) Make love in a pool
(75.) Donate more than $100 to charity
(76.) Go to the Melbourne Cup
(77.) Go Whale watching
(78.) Own an environmentally concerned car
(79.) Take Mum and Danielle to a health spa
(80.) Get a pedicure
(81.) Learn to Ski (11/09/2013)
(82.) Get a Brazilian wax
(83.) Hold a monkey
(84.) Be kissed by a seal (completed: 05/12/2010)
(85.) Drive 150km/h
(86.) Get a tattoo (completed: 18/11/2010)
(87.) Ride in a helicopter
(88.) Get acupuncture
(89.) Pat a giraffe (completed: 07/12/2010)
(90.) See the “Mona Lisa”
(91.) Jump off a water fall
(92.) Ride in a hot air balloon
(93.) Buy each of my family members something they couldn’t afford for themselves (1. Mum Cirque du Soliel tickets. 2. Jade Turtle Aquarium set up)
(94.) Watch Queensland win a State of Origin match live
(95.) Ride in a gondola in Venice
(96.) Order room service (completed: 08/12/2010)
(97.) Tour old and new parliament house (New: 13/09/2013)
(98.) See a wild squirrel
(99.) Eat a Hamburger in 5 different countries
1. Australia
2.
3.
4.
5.
(100.) Do a first aid course
(101.) Tour the White House
(102.) Mow a lawn
(103.) Be a grandma
(104.) Fly first class
(105.) Change a tire (13/10/2013)
(106.) Learn coffee art
(107.) Do a high ropes course
(108.) Teach
(109.) Eat an oyster (28/12/2010)
(110.) Taste truffles
(111.) Make a snow angel (10/09/2013)
(112.) Be part of a world record
(113.) Drive through a car wash (2012)
(114.) Go to the daffodil fields at Carterton
(115.) Ride shotgun in a convertible
(116.) Lick, sip, suck a shot of tequila (16/08/2012)
(117.) Go to River Fire
(118.) Grow a mulberry tree
(119.) Dip my toes in a loch in Scotland
(120.) Quote Shakespeare at his birthplace
(121.) Spend a month overseas
(122.) Eat at Wendy’s burger chain
(123.) Shop at Harrods
(124.) Take a photo with an English Guard
(125.) See the Cirque du soleil (15/07/2011)
(126.) See the Colloseum
(127.) Visit Stonehenge
(128.) Conquer a rock climbing wall (30/09/2013)
(129.) Swim at Bondi Beach
(130.) Go to question time at House of Representatives
(131.) Own an I love NY t-shirt
(132.) Visit a butterfly house
(133.) Milk a cow
(134.) Go 24 hours without speaking
(135.) Have my fortune told (30/01/2011)
(136.) Find out my blood type
(137.) Go to a concert that Jade wants to see (10/06/2012)
(138.) Pet an otter
(139.) Swim with a seal (30/01/2011)
(140.) Conquer the aqualoop at Wet and Wild (12/2012)
(141.) Taste something red velvet flavoured (05/12/2011)
(142.) Play Glee drinking game (09/06/2011)
(143.) Feng shui a room
(144.) Go to a strip club (04/12/2011)
(145.) Bake a cheesecake
(146.) Ride a bungy bullet type ride
(147.) Make a grand gesture
(148.) Play with penguins (05/12/2011)
(149.) Visit Vatican City
(150.) Go paragliding
(151.) Get a boob job
(152.) Cook my way through an entire cookbook
(153.) Visit a planetarium
(155.) Random acts of kindness month
(156.) Drive the south island of New Zealand
(157.) Go to Boston
(158.) Take a burlesque class
(159.) Read "Eat, Pray, Love" (31/05/2013)
(160.) Drink a pina colada (04/06/2013)
(161.) Attend a high tea (10/05/2013)
(162.) Go to a Taylor Swift concert (07/12/2013)
(163.) Get a cut and colour that I love (16/03/2013)
(164.) See the Niagra Falls
(165.) Go to the Grand Canyon
(166.) Own a pair of designer sunglasses (15/11/2013)
(167.) Eat lobster
(168.) Ride a camel
(169.) Ride on the South Bank ferris wheel at Brisbane (20/06/2013)
(170.) Ride in a limo
(171.) See the Australian Ballet / Queensland Ballet perform
(172.) Do a "Yes Man" day
(173.) Watch 1,000 movies
(174.) Make 1,000 paper cranes and make a selfless wish
(175.) Have more then my salary in savings
(176.) Go to Lake Hillier in Western Australia
(177.) Visit a Cadbury Factory
(178.) Croc cage of death
(179.) White water rafting
(180.) Go to a Commonwealth or Olympic Games sporting event
(181.) Horse riding on the beach
(182.) Go out for Tappas
(183.) See a Kodiak bear
(184.) Drink Sangria
(185.) Take an "Oh What a Feeling" photo
(186.) Study interior design
(187.) Knit an afghan
(188.) Get a henna tattoo (23/03/2014)
(189.) Weigh 50kgs
(190.) Start a push pin world map
(191.) Swim in an infinity pool
(192.) See turtle hatchlings head into the ocean
(193.) Gold panning
(194.) Jet boating
(195.) Buy something from IKEA
(196.) See Romeo and Juliet performed live
(197.) Eat street food at Central Park NY
(198.) Eat a fresh pomegranate
(199.) Play two-up on Anzac Day
(200.) Read 1 million pages 

...and if you can find them. Maybe you can hire the A Team! Heck Yeah!

I don’t usually watch action movies, as a rule. Unless I’m getting something out of it, that is. For instance I sat through Iron Man 2 with the promise that his-self would return the favour and accompany me to Letters to Juliet.


So you can imagine his surprise when I suggested we see The A-Team. I’ll admit my interest stemmed from Mr. T’s starring in the Snickers ad’s. Whenever I feel someone needs encouragement I do not hesitate in yelling “Arghh! Get some nuts!” I was hugely interested in finding out how this line was born.

So tonight we went and saw The A-Team. I was not sure how I was going to feel about it. But I was not disappointed!

I was not at all convinced about the choice of Quentin ‘Rampage’ Jackson to play B.A Baracus. He can fight, yeah? But can he act? I was sceptical. Also with Mr. T as his predecessor he had some big boots to fill. I left converted; and with a full-fledged crush on Rampage. He might even find me to tuning into UFC next time it’s on television!

Jessica Biel’s character Charisa Sosa helped make the movie for me. She was tough, smart, sexy and the object of desire of a super hot guy. Isn’t that how we all dream to be?

The movie was humour, explosion scenes and drama thrown in to a mixing bowl and given a good stir. The result was unbeatable.

As a girl who yawns through gun scenes, let me advise you that even if you are a romantic comedy sort of person; go and see it!

I’d also like to suggest that Bradley Cooper and Jessica Biel consider getting together. They would have very pretty babies.

The Stumbling Blocks Encountered in Finding Oneself

What I’ve discovered over the last month is that I’m very bad at being honest about who I am. Not many people actually know me. Out of all the people that I talk to, work with or know from university; only two or three actually know who I am.


I do this on purpose. I keep everybody around me at arms length. Because if people don’t know me, they can’t judge me.


I’m like this with writing as well. Writing is more then something that I’m passionate about, it’s how I define myself. It’s the very essence of who I am. Yet I have a hard time being honest about it. I’ve always wanted to be an author, ever since I was young. Since that impressionable age people told me that writing is not a respectable career. Maybe because of this I’ve always been shy about sharing my writing. It’s not until recently that I’ve found myself admitting it. Jade, a person who knows me better then just about anyone else, looked at me in surprise when I confessed that what I want to achieve more then anything is to write a novel.


I haven’t written many posts on this blog, not really. Yet I can feel myself growing with everything that I post. Becoming more confident, taking ownership of who I am. What is more, is that the large amount of time I vest in reading other people’s blogs is helping as well. It constantly amazes me how connected I can feel to complete strangers. I read their posts and think “Wow, that sums up exactly how I’m feeling right now.”


I’m not sure that it occurs to me that people may actually read what I’m posting on here. I’m surprised every time somebody says “So, I was reading your blog…” When I do think about it I think that I shouldn’t be writing posts like these, I should be writing the silly little anecdotes I’ve taken to posting. Things that people might enjoy reading. But I don’t think it works like this. I started this as a form of expression and I’m going to write what I feel at any point in time. Someone close to me expressed their concern that I’m being to personal. I hope that’s not the case. I hope that I’m not offending anyone. But this is me. It feels good to finally share that.

A review: The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner

I’m usually very up-to-date with when authors that I read are releasing books. However, just in case a book sneaks up on me, I visit Angus and Robertson’s at least once a week to scop out new releases. (I don’t care if this isn’t a socially acceptable activity. Angus and Robertson’s is my happy place. Whenever I’m in a bad mood who ever I’m with warily suggests a trip to the store. Give me five minutes of inhaling new book smell and I’m smiley faced again.)


Despite my vigilance a book has in fact snuck up on me. On a walk past Angus and Robertson’s yesterday my mum was all “Hey! Look at that! A new Stephenie Meyer book!” Right she was. Thus I spent the good part of last night reading “The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner”.


I finished it this afternoon and I have mixed feelings about it. It’s written as an Eclipse novella and does a very good job at telling an unexpected side of the story. Following a largely marginal character through her own experiences of what it was like to be a new born vampire on a mission to destroy the Cullen’s. As can be expected from Stephenie Meyer the characterisation was excellent. Bree was very real and very easy to relate to.


However there were an equal number of things I didn’t like about it. Firstly there were no chapters. I can understand why they made that decision. It’s only about 200 pages and its set over a very short period of time. But it makes reading the story tedious. It would have benefited from being broken up into chapters. It lacked Meyer’s trade mark ambience. While I can accept that it was written in a different style to the Twilight series the language was dumb-ed down to a point that was a little insulting. I’m still very much in the intended age group, give us a break teenage girls understand words!


If you’re a Twilight fan I’d definitely suggest reading it. I feel a little disappointed though. Maybe Meyer could have focused her energy on finishing Midnight Sun? Because I’m literally salivating with the urge to read it.

A lonely winters night is only enjoyable when you have a good book as company

I’m suffering a little from writers block at the moment. If you haven’t experienced it imagine trying to suck a roast meal through a straw. Unpleasant, exhausting and the parts you manage to get up the straw aren’t the enjoyable bits.


So with that part of me on the blink I rely more heavily on my other favourite activity, like leaning on a crutch. Reading. I have consumed more books over the last few weeks then I have in months. I am literally finishing a novel a day. This is helped by the fact that I’m re-reading, for possibly the seventh or eight time, Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series.


I was a lonely kid, sometimes by choice, sometimes circumstance. As a result the majority of my childhood was spent lost in either my own dreamed up fantasy worlds, or those created by others. This is what I love about the Stephanie Plum series. I can so easily get lost in the world that Janet Evanovich creates for me. Forget my own. This is what I resort to at my lowest moments: the awfulness that accompanied my final year at high school, the break up of a year long relationship, the death of my grandfather and bouts of depression.


The series follows it’s main character Stephanie Plum’s antics. She is a less then successful bounty hunter with a knack for running in to trouble. It’s almost a relief that, no matter that she is fictional, whatever stupid thing I have done that day she can trump it. I am in love with Janet Evanoich’s wit, light hearted humour and superior writing ability.


Considering the copious amount that I read I’m extraordinarily picky when it comes to books. I have been known to put a book down if I’m not impressed by its first few sentences. The fact that I have read this series so many times and am likely to continue to do so is the highest compliment I can give. If anyone’s interested in experiencing it the books for themselves the first one is One for the Money and is found in the crime section. Consider yourselves converted.


If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll be off, Fearless Fourteen awaits me.

My dog can do many wonderous things. Unlocking the car door from the inside? Not one of them.

I’m not sure what it is about me, but what should be simple tasks always turn into epic adventures. This was certainly the case today.


Honey needed to go to the vet this morning and I volunteered to take her. She’s a 15-year-old German Shepard cross and I love her to bits. We got her when I was five so I guess it’s fair to say we grew up together. She slept on the end of my bed every night until she decided she was too old to jump up anymore.


The last time I accompanied her to the vet she was very sick and all curled up on the front seat of my car. That was not the case this morning. This morning she was very excited and keen for adventure.


With the right background music convincing Honey to get in to the car would have made quite a funny black-and-white chase scene. I let her in to the house with the intention to fix her to her lead, only to turn around to find her gone. I poked my head out the front door to see her running to down the driveway, closely followed by mum who was yelling at her to stop. Never mind that Honey is completely deaf.


It took some convincing but I finally managed to manoeuvre Honey in to the car. I breathed a sigh of relief, only to find that she wouldn’t give up that easily. I was now faced with a debate over which seat she would sit in. You see, she had decided that the driver’s seat was her choice. I however felt that I should be sitting there, me being the one with the car keys and licence. Honey didn’t agree.


Luckily with a fair amount of bargaining and promises to let her sleep on the clean laundry (her favourite past time) she acquiesced. The rest of the trip went without a hitch. It wasn’t until after paying the exuberant price for the ointment she’d been prescribed by the vet and making our way back to my car that things became… well complicated.


Honey did not want to get back in to the car. She was much too preoccupied sniffing the other animal smells, she would not be convinced. Heaving a sigh of frustration I dumped the armful of things I was carrying in to the centre console. Grabbing her around the middle, I managed to manoeuvre her squirming body in to the car. Honey hates being picked up, even as a puppy she would thrash around until you put her back on the floor. The look that she gave me as I wound the window down a turn and closed and locked the door on her could easily rival the dirty look of any human female.


As I pushed the door closed I had a niggling feeling of something not being right. I looked down at my empty hands. The passenger side door was locked. The drivers side door was locked. My keys were in the centre console. Honey was in the passenger side seat looking out at me, ears up in interest.


I felt my stomach drop, and the words “Oh shit!” scrolled across my mind marquee style. My immediate response was to call for help, my hand flying to my pocket. It was empty. My phone was in the car too. After some creative cussing I decided to take action.


The window was down just enough for me to slip my arm in up to my forearm. I tried to push it in further, just enough wind the window down a scratch. After about five minutes of this I realised it wasn’t going to be possible.


My arm was burning and Honey was still sitting on the front seat smiling out at me, clearly enjoying the show. Fingers of panic were starting to creep up my spine, tears prickling behind my eyes. As far as I could see I had two options; manage to squeeze my arm through the window or return to vet surgery and ask for help. The second option wasn’t particularly attractive, not only would it be mortifying but it would mean leaving Honey unattended.


I decided to try the arm through the window one last time. My car is the type with the lock next to the door handle rather then near the window. I realised with a little bit of feeling around I could brush the lock with my fingers, this was accompanied by a surge of hope. With a few more tries, biting my lip against the pain my arm was in, I was finally able to push the lock.


After retrieving the keys I collapsed onto the driver’s side seat shaking with adrenaline and rubbing my quickly bruising arm in self-pity.


I looked over at Honey, worried that the time alone in the car may have stressed her. The look I got in response was one that clearly summed up what she was thinking “That’s what you get for picking me up. Way to go jackass”. I can’t say that I disagree.