Why we always go back for the 5847th time

Like many humans in life, I crave normalcy. Not what everyone classifies as normal. I crave my normal. I’m talking routine of uni, gym, work, stressing, gossiping and socialising. The usual Monday to Sunday stressful rigmorale I had grown accustomed too. This includes my ex. Now this isn’t something new I’ve only just started. I’ve always done it. Every relationship I’ve been in irrespective of the duration or seriousness, at some stage or another I’ve re-visited. Nostalgic or dumb? You be the judge.

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Now I’m not saying it’s a given when things end that you are going to get back together. Obviously if there’s a scandalous reason for as to why you broke up, you aren’t to be blamed. Or you might just hate their guts. It’s all your prerogative and your bloody business. Not your friends. Not their friends. Not your parents. Not your gyno’s. No-ones but you and your (potential future) ex-bae.

The worst part after a break up is the fifty million questions that follow and the inevitable sledging that occurs. Now if you are going to try and salvage any form of ‘love embers’ (dad’s words, sick right?!); you need to quit the sh*t with the sledging. Because the second you even start paying this person attention again, EVERY single person you’ve ever said something to about them will remember and I guarantee that they will almost recite the exact wording re-creating the exact tones and pitch you used to first b*tch in the first place. Please note that this comes from a place of love and protection. I’ve been on both the receiving and giving end of this and let me tell you, it isn’t meant to come across judgy or b*tchy but more so think “big brother meets their innocent younger sisters first boyfriend who rides a Harley and is covered in tat’s” kind of protection. They love you. They want to protect you. They don’t want to see you get hurt. But as most people will learn, if they haven’t already, they can’t protect you. If you’re big enough and ugly enough to be in a relationship; you are big enough and ugly enough to cope with the BS that follows one.

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So thinking back to all of the tumultuous back and forth, two’ing and fro’ing ive done, I instantly am panged with so many “AH-HA” moments. Not just in relationships but errrthang. My hair; from blonde to brown to red to black (vom). My ideas on my career path; from police officer (lol) to au-pair to bartender in a strip club (got the job; pussied out) to going back to uni full-time whilst working two jobs. My exes; from thinking I was going to spend the rest of my life with my high school “serious” boyfriend to thinking that the bad boy I worked with would ever turn into anything more than a two-year booty call. Long story short, I’ve done it before and let’s be real, I’ll probably do it again.

I have friends that have gone back to their exes and they’re happily loved up. I have friends who have gone on to marry their ex partners. I have friends who have had kids with their exes. I have friends who went back for a bit of sexy-time and it turned to sh*t. And I know some people who think of their exes and instantly want to barf. It’s each to their own on this topic. All I know, is it’s none of my business and “you do you boo” definitely applies.

So who knows if it ever works out. All I know is that QANTAS ad really sounds good, it does feel like home (for now?).

A Memo To All D*ckheads

Other people’s business is not, and never will be, your business. Sorry to break it to you but it isn’t. How someone lives their life is not open to discussion nor interpretation from you; unless they ask for it.

SOOOOOO often in today’s day and age, people are way too judgemental towards people they a) don’t know and b) have opinions on topics they know nothing about.

Kermit The Frog But Thats None Of My Business GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

Let me set the scene for everyone shall I? Let’s use my friend as an example, let’s call her Cheryl. Cheryl recently broke up with her partner. She didn’t post it all over social networking nor did she go out and try and ‘forget’ about her ex-partners’ existence. She just moved the f*ck on. Now Cheryls’ ex-partners ‘mates’ however, let’s call him Patrick did the opposite. His mates have recently decided it’d be a sick idea to try and berate Cheryl and bring her down. This sort of stuff isn’t funny, cool nor necessary. Just shut up and move on. I don’t know, be mature about it, buy a plane ticket, book a boys trip overseas or something. Just leave that person alone.

Then on top of this back and forth BS, there’s the other people weighing in on it constantly. The people who aren’t close enough to be in on the drama / gossip but want to know, so ask either Cheryl or Pat if they’re still together and when someone screams/says politely “no”, they start pressing for answers. The old ‘who, what, where, when and why’, comes into play. People who legitimately have NO need to know your business, now want to know your business. But why? Why do people froth off of knowing that other people are going through a hard time?

On top of the people that are asking all the questions, there are the people who are assuming they know the reasons behind a break-up and have no problem in sharing their theories. These people are more dangerous than a glass of vodka that you mistake for a glass of water when you are hungover. These people are the pinnacle of d*cks as they are the ones who told such and such and then such and such AND THEN brought it up over brunch with Cheryl’s cousin who was then SO surprised when it comes back to said break-up-ee (Cheryl).

Now I can definitely say that I am not one to judge, because far out brussell sprout; we’ve all been there. Of course, sometimes I am privy to hear something and be like god damn, gotta share this, but even I have slowly (but surely) learnt I can’t do this. Why? Because this makes me an even bigger see you next Tuesday than the person who said it. I can honestly say I know things now that even make the hairs on my head curl (when I haven’t put a sh*t load of hairspray and straightened the be-jesus out of it), but I don’t. Keeping my mouth shut on things that a) aren’t any of my business and b) definitely are not any of my business; are things that I should definitely not speak about.

Now whilst I definitely do not condone violence, the adage “talk sh*t, get hit” is definitely relevant. If I hear anyone, and I mean absolutely anyone talking about Cheryl and Patrick and their relationship and how it ended, I will have ZERO hesitation in hitting you with the truth on it and how it is absolutely NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Because I can guarantee that you have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.

So in summary, if it doesn’t concern you, don’t worry about it. Just move on and concentrate on your own life and your own problems. Christ, I am sure you’ve got bigger issues to deal with than why Cheryl and Patrick broke up three months ago.

Time to talk about everybody’s favourite ‘A-word’

I don’t hate anybody or any things really (rarely), but this, woah he’s a real b*tch or see you next Tuesday. I hate it.

Anxiety is absolute bullsh*t.

It is physically draining and can hit you like a tonne of bricks or can smash into you quicker than dropping your iphone on your face lying down. It affects everyone differently too. Of course being the loving bugger it is, it doesn’t discriminate. EVERYONE and ANYONE can have anxiety, or be anxious at some stage. Seriously, everyone. The only difference is it is more than often not spoken about. You can be the happiest and most outgoing person in the room but the split-second anxiety rears its ugly head you can be sent into a downward spiral.

Let me break it down for you in more layman’s terms. It’s like when you wake up and you’re really hungover or groggy and you go down to Coles looking less than fresh and it is GUARANTEED that you are going to run into someone looking like a hot mess. You. Cannot. Avoid. It. Then boom, of course, it happens. You know it’ll happen even when you are on a glowing post-orgasm high, you know it’ll rear it’s big ol’ ugly head whenever and wherever it feels like it.

So here’s lil old me minding my own business, attempting as best as I can to keep on top of things – obviously failing miserably but still singing Yonce’s ballad ‘Survivor’. Yes, I know that was Destiny’s Child, but I can’t think of the others’ names; so therefore invalid? Then NEKMINIT it appears. It constantly maintains eye contact with you and tries to hold you in conversation when all you want to do is retreat to your bed (with your McDonald’s) and hide from the world. It isn’t to be confused with being similar to when a woman gets her aunty flow once a month (lucky bastards), there isn’t a set date or time or even an event that triggers it. It can legit be the smallest most insignificant thing that can trigger it. So that’s been me for the last three months on an anxiety bender. Hasn’t been as fun as any other bender I’ve been on before but boy oh boy has the crashing and burning been just as horrific.

The worse thing is it doesn’t discriminate – age, gender, profession, religion – you name it, you can be affected. I have friends, good friends, almost other limbs that have anxiety issues yet until they told me, I had NO idea.  I know of children who have anxiety issues and it truly breaks my heart. To have a child tell you, they are feeling so short of breath whilst being unable to explain why, to not want to participate in sports or hang out with their friends and just want to sit in their rooms and cry, that, well that is truly gut-wrenching. Anxiety works in mysterious ways. It affects everyone differently. Some people cry. Some people have panic attacks. Some people can’t talk and practically turn mute. Some people get anxiety diarrhoea which can decide to show up whenever. Anxiety is pretty right? But it’s time that people, women, men, old, young, whether they are chronically stressed from work or stupendously stressed from being at home with their kids, dogs, or ferrets, etc. to talk about it. Don’t hide it. Don’t hide from it and definitely don’t suffer from it. I’m saying wear an ‘A’ on your shirt as a tell-tale signifier because one it would be confusing and two, well, we all know the story of the Scarlet A, or ‘Easy A’ for the kids in the room. #awkward

Whether it’s talking to a friend over a wine, cuddling your dog and divulging everything or simply speaking to a counsellor, you are not alone. You never will be alone. You aren’t pathetic. You’re strong and being told how to feel when you don’t even know how you feel yourself, is a joke and they can eat one. It’s 2017, not 1817. People need to be able to talk about their feelings. It doesn’t make you any less of a person nor does it diminish you. Nor does it make you any less of yourself. Being anxious, having anxiety, having an attack doesn’t define you. It f*cking sucks but you come out on top. You come out as a better person. You don’t let it break you. You kick it’s arse.

I am pleased, and almost relieved to see how much is being done for mental illness, mental health awareness and overall general health and wellbeing for people. These days people do talk about mental health, however the hardest thing that still remains is to admit it to yourself, and then to share this new-found truth with others. You need to know you are safe and loved and you can talk about things, your life, your stresses and your daily issues that are encountered. It is definitely okay to vent every now and then. It’s more than okay to need to let everything out so you don’t rage unexpectedly one day out of the blue. Every single person is human and isn’t expected to be a robot all of the time.

So right now, it’s a Tuesday afternoon and I’m watching Netflix and having a cider. You know why? Because it’s been a sh*t week. Yeah it’s only Tuesday, I know; but I deserve it. Did I set myself a ‘no drinking during the week’ ban? Yeah I did. Am I going to listen to it tonight? No way. Because I deserve this god damn drink. And I will definitely deserve the second and third too.

So the big ‘A word’ hey? Bet you dirty buggers thought I was going to say something else; what, like abstinence…? You filthy animals. 


For the love of all things guacamole, If you or anyone you know needs to talk about anything, do it. And do it often. You’ll never know how much even a brief conversation can help someone.

 

What to do when all of your friends are comfortably ‘adulting’ and you can’t even find the shoes that you wore out last night

Irrespective of your age, anything can happen at any time. At twenty-four I have girlfriends that are married, that are pregnant, that have a baby, that have two babies, that are single parents, that are mums and dads of fur babies and then there is me. I am a full-time university student, working one or two jobs here and there, live with my parents and the closest I have to any form of relationship, is my unhealthy obsession with my family dog. Once the novelty of being an adult wears off and you are forced to recognise your responsibilities and jobs, you are reminded that being a kid wasn’t so tough after all. BIG. TIME. You go through the motions though because I can vividly remember being twelve or thirteen and thinking I knew EXACTLY how my life was going to pan out. I was going to follow closely in my parents and my grandparents footsteps. I was to be married, successful and be a mortgage holder in my early to mid-twenties. Well praise the lord that ideology didn’t amount to anything and I am doing my own thing, happily may I add.

Same babe same.

Don’t be fooled by the ol’ addages that tell you to get your sh*t together by a certain age. Or to ensure that you follow the ol’ beaten track that’s been set out for you. You know, the whole finish high school, fall in love, go to university, graduate university, get a job, get married, have babies and live your life blissfully. But as everyone knows, life isn’t a fairytale. You don’t end up with prince charming or usually the person you shacked up with in high school, because, well, thank god right?! Life isn’t perfect but it happens to everyone at different times.

How can you relate to your friends having children and getting married but you can’t even keep a plant alive? Honestly a plant.

Over time I have learnt that age is nothing but a number. Obviously it is a big deal when it comes to buying drinks, going to bars or buying cigarettes. But in relation to other things, it isn’t important. At all. You can meet someone who is eighteen years old who is more mature, grounded and more sincere than a fifty-year old you’ve known your entire life. Or the opposite end of the spectrum is you could meet a forty-year old who is the funniest, most quick-witted individual you’ve ever come across that enjoys spending their time making a fool of themselves rather than behaving ‘like an adult’. Irrespective of the DOB that is printed on your really un-attractive prison-like photographic identification, your age does not define you or where you should be at in your life.

All and I mean A-L-L of the people in my life are either: married, engaged, pregnant, with child/ren, buying a house, selling a house, renting a house, travelling the world, starting uni, finished uni, career-focused and driven, breaking up with partners, hooking up with new people, hooking up with old people, etcetera etcetera. I could honestly go on about it for hours. Then there’s me. Still living at home with my parents with zero intentions of moving out anytime soon, childless, semi-jobless, no idea what I want to do after I finish uni and the closest human contact I have had in months is with my waxing lady.

Everyday there is a constant birage of people on social networking that you know or ahem, stalk, that you know for a fact are living a better life than you.

Me for example I am a CLASSIC example of a mixed-up presentation. Sometimes on a Sunday I wake up at 8am, go for a run and then do a spin class closely followed by heading home via the supermarket, doing my weekly shop and then meal prepping. This Sunday just passed however, I woke up at 11am with my breath still laden with both alcohol and remnants of leftover McDonald’s on my clothes and had an entire French onion dip tub as my lunch. With a spoon. Whilst drinking a two-hour old cup of cold tea. It’s all about balance.

No matter where you are at in your life all that matters is that you are happy, truly happy. And I am.

UPDATE: My precious heels have been found.

NUDES… now that I have your attention. No really, let’s talk nudes.

I’m just going to come out and say it. Technology – sometimes – can be a REAL b*tch. Yeah it’s all well and good and keeps people together, improves businesses, economy blah blah blah. But when it’s used incorrectly or a simple slip of the finger or button occurs you can really be up shit creek without a paddle. I for example, recently sent a snapchat of myself (ahem, on the toilet) to someone that really I didn’t want anyone to see other than the person it was intended for. So yeah I get it. Probably more so than other people when it comes to the ol’ sent to the wrong person but sheesh full blown frontal p0rno nudes. No thanks.IMG_2184

 

 

But I have had acquaintances whose girlfriend has the same name as me (lucky buggers; she sounds great!) and they’ve send me nudes meant for their ‘Erin’ and that sh*t is mortifying. Especially when you get a text from a random number “DO NOT OPEN YOUR SNAPCHAT FROM ME!!!!!”. Well sorry for you buddy, but jokes on you. Um imma open it. So afterwards I naturally  responded with a cute winky face on snapchat. Safe to say they won’t be doing that again.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT – As a general rule of thumb and just a head’s up fellas ya D’s ain’t pretty. We don’t want a photo of it. Ever. I don’t know if I am speaking for everyone or just myself and my girlfriends but; ever. Not even once. Don’t do it. Don’t need it. It’s nasty.

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Another prime example of BS technology traps; recently I was at uni and unsuspectedly plugged my phone into my laptop to charge it. Seems pretty normal. But boy oh boy, it was far from that. Let me set the scene. I was late to my tute, because naturally, of course I have classes at BOTH university campuses and have to ferry between the two. (Yeah my life is awesome). If you know Brisbane traffic you can only imagine how ecstatic I am to drive between both campuses in peak hour traffic. Hence why I am always going to be late to my tute. Since I am an anal retentive OCD individual it is something I am just going to have to get used to being ‘late’. Any-who back to my story. I was late. As everyone avoids the front row like the plague I had a seat front and centre. LUCKY ME!! I plugged in my phone. My photos popped up. Being an assertive and listening student (sometimes) I paid little to no attention on what was on my laptop screen but more so to what my tutor was attempting to teach me at the front of the class. Even though it would have felt like it was hours it was probably thirty seconds but my laptop had ‘interesting’ pictures showing on it. Not of me which of course is less horrifying or mortifying but still, horrifying and mortifying. Now how did I happen to have nudes on my phone that weren’t me? Well let’s just say, I am not too sure why guys find it attractive to send people D.P’s please don’t send it via iMessage so that person can keep it forever to have it pop up on their laptop in front of a group of people that they don’t really know. Send it via snapchat.

All in all, kids, if you wanna send nudes please for the LOVE of whoever you pray to, watch who you are sending them to. Double check before you hit send. Don’t send them by mistake to your old boss or a random guy that you used to work with who you haven’t spoken to in nearly a year.

PLEASE NOTE – I don’t rate sending or receiving nudes. I think it’s reaaaaaaaaaaaally sick. But you do you boo. I ain’t one to judge.

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Peace.

The feels all serial drunk texters can relate to

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You’ve just woken up on a Sunday morning. You wake up feeling not too crash hot with only the foggiest memory of last night’s shenanigans. Then you remember to check your phone. You reach for what seems like your third limb for some form of confirmation of last night’s damage. This is when you realise that the inevitable has definitely happened. You’ve done it again. You should just crawl into your hibernation cave and hide away for the next six days. When I say you, I of course mean me. “Hi, my name is Erin and I’m a serial drunk texter.”

Stage one: “I’m just going to ignore the fact that I even messaged them and they definitely will too, obviously.”

You may know that you’ve sent something a bit too risqué, incoherent or even just down-right illegible. But as long as you don’t open the message and re-read your drunken messages, it means it didn’t happen right? Right! Even when someone texts you and says, “Wow someone had one too many sauv’s last night”, ignore them. You don’t need negative people like that in your life.

Source: GIPHY

Stage two: “No I am definitely not being naïve, everyone does it. They won’t mind that they received seven messages at 2am. It’s fine.”

False. They will mind. Whether it’s the cute guy from the gym, your best friend who you are confessing your unwavering love for, an ex-partner (everyone does it) or a family member (such as your Nan who you text at 2am to ask why she isn’t picking up her house phone – still apologetic for that one Nan!) Yeah nah, they will mind.

Stage three: “Oh well, at least they will know that I think about them when I am that inebriated. It’s a compliment right?!”

It might not be as cute as you make it out to be in your head. If you’re like me (I mean my “friend”), you’ve drunkenly messaged someone you’ve only met once or twice in your entire life. They’re not going to appreciate the drunken crack on. Ever. It isn’t going to be taken as a compliment. You are now the renowned drunken weirdo. Good one. Truth bomb – you will probably never be able to come back from that.

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Stage four: “It’s Saturday night, I am going to go out with the girls and not think about them and just have a good night.”

Famous last words. Never going to happen. Just remember you’ll feel the same pang of guilt you did last weekend and repeat the above stages. Try and get through the night without messaging them. It’s going to be real hard but it’ll be worth it when all you have to deal with is sourcing infinite amounts of water to quench your unwavering thirst and where the closest Maccas is to refuel.

Of course, you can try and learn from your mistakes. To do this you have several options – if you find yourself only messaging the one person, block their number on a Saturday so you don’t feel tempted. But speaking from experience, this doesn’t work. Just throw your phone out the window after the damning message, Snapchat or phone call has occurred. Then change your name and take a flight to Thailand and never return. I’m tempted to take the latter option.

Originally posted on Hijacked. Link here – The feels all serious drunk texters can relate to

 

Why is it so hard to take your own advice that you give out so freely to others?

I don’t know why but previously, during my early (single) years I was always the go-to for all advice on relationships. No idea why as it didn’t make any sense. Still doesn’t really. But everything from babies to fights to in-law problems, I knew it all. I could dish out advice quicker than they could tell me about their problems. I was the Buddha of relationships. Did my advice ever work? Probably not. Did they ever listen to me? Again, probably not. But my friends entrusted me with their problems and the goings-on and I was happy to oblige. Fast forward to now. Everything in my relationship turned to sh*t. And if it was a girlfriend going through this I would know exactly what to do, what to say, how to treat their ex-partner. I would be able to fix me. But when it’s your own advice, and you say it to yourself, you’re bloody Helen Keller 2.0. Blind and deaf to the entire thing.

Now, a little bit, ahem, older, maybe wiser, definitely more experienced and definitely more attune to the world around me, I am asked for opinion and advice on things regularly. The one thing that I wish I could solemnly do however, is give myself advice. And listen to it.

The best thing to do with pain, is wait. Sounds cliché AF but time really does heal all wounds. Whether it takes days, weeks, months or even years, it takes time. So you distract yourself. You might get a new hobby, or start reading again, or masturbate. You distract yourself so you don’t think about the pain that you’re feeling. You don’t want to spend time dwelling on the past, what happened or worse; what could’ve happened.

The weekends are the worst. Because even if you are trying to take a ‘break’ from alcohol aka becoming a drunk mess and crying in public; other people do not. Other people like to tell you their drunken feelings and opinions. A lot, and I mean A LOT of people will tell you that they never liked them, they always knew something was off about them or that they knew they weren’t right for you. Of course, unless these people are malicious a-holes, they are trying to be sincere and cheer you up. And of course, it doesn’t work, but I’m sure it helps them feel better to get it off their chest and to ‘help’ you.

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Until now, I hadn’t realised how much of a hard bitch I was when it came to other people. I was so quick and found it so easy to say, “dump him”, “move on, you aren’t happy”, “he doesn’t deserve you. He is so batting,” or my old favourite, “you deserve and can do so much better.” Who the F am I to say what someone else deserves? My other favourite was always something along the lines of reminding them to be the bigger person and to ensure that they stay the ‘mature one’. Safe to say, today I have failed my biggest advice BS spiel.

I have been petty. I have deleted every trace of that person from my life – the photos on my laptop, reset my phone to factory settings, deleted every trace of them and their friends off every facet of social media I could find. And of course after this, I decided to go investigating, ahem, stalking. Stalking for any skerrick of hope that they are hurting as much as I am, for answers, for opinions, for information on what he was doing. Why? Absolutely no idea. Did it help? No. Did it make me cry? Of course it did. It was inevitable, it had to be done for peace of mind, and in some weird twisted way it was therapeutic. I knew it was wrong because I would NEVER admit to anyone I was doing it. But this is all part of fixing myself. Since alcohol doesn’t work – found that out the hard way – I found this to be quite soothing, comforting almost.

So now I’m helping myself. I am literally doing everything opposite of what I would tell someone else to do. I am not going to kick myself over what has happened though. The actions that took place sucked and definitely kicked me in the hypothetical gonads but I sure as sh*t can’t change anything and I am beginning to see that I wouldn’t want to. I wasn’t, and he definitely wasn’t happy and we hadn’t been for a very long time. So it’s both a blessing and a curse.  I am going to jump on the hobbies bandwagon, take up tinder full-time, maybe dabble in knitting, smash through another three different seasons of some mindless TV shows and who knows, maybe take up bikram yoga? I’m not too sure yet. Maybe ask me next week what I end up doing.

Peace out, love recently retired advice girl x

 

Twenty-four things you learn before you turn twenty-four

Much like Taylor Swift I am also feeling twenty-two. Except I’m not. I’m twenty-four but even though that’s only two years it’s practically a galaxy in age difference. Sometimes I feel like I’m eighteen still. Then other times where I just feel, let’s just say other times I feel like a geriatric because I do often forget my name and where I work, oh and my date of birth and also how to spell my last name. But none of that really matters right? All that really matters in life is living. And you’ve made it this far so props to you (directed at myself; it was a bit touch and go there for a while).  Here are twenty-four things that are INTEGRAL to learn not only before you turn twenty-four but just in general.

preach

1. Dry shampoo is not good for every occasion. Sometimes, you’ve gotta wash ya damn hair. Sure a lil’ spritz here and there isn’t going to do a serious load of damage but if you are like me and you go to the gym every day and can practically ring out your clothes with sweat, imagine your hair. Nuff said’….

2. Find a style of clothing YOU love and rock the absolute sh#t out of it. Wanna wear flares and they are out of fashion? Who cares! You enjoy wearing dungarees with a turtleneck underneath with your birkenstocks in 30 plus degree weather? Do it girl! But for the love of all things holy, don’t wear a trend that you A, don’t feel comfortable in or B, don’t think you look good in. Fashion is such a broad term. Don’t let other people’s preferences on clothing sway you in any way.

3. You don’t have to know what career path you want to take in life or even the direction you are going in. My only encouragement would be to work. A job. Any job (within reason, skillset etc). Earn an income. Keep busy. Your dream job opportunity or pathway will pop up when you least expect it.

4. Travel. By yourself (preferably). Often. Go to places that are new and exciting and don’t ever settle for mediocre travel plans. A holiday can make or break a friendship/relationship.

5. Do things by yourself and actually enjoy them. Go to the movies. Go out to breakfast by yourself. Go for a walk. Read your book. Switch your phone off for an hour or two at a time, you’ll quickly notice the difference.

6. Exercise. Find something that you enjoy whether it be running, walking, jogging, gossiping and walking (Crowd favourite with my girlfriends), climbing a mountain, spin class, boxing, or lifting heavy weights. Do it and do it often. Not only will your health be boosted tenfold your mentality will also reap the benefits.

7. Listen to your body. If you feel like something is wrong, act on it. Go to the doctors. Go to the naturopath, the chiro, the therapist, the gyno, the guy-no (don’t know the male equivalent?) and the list is endless.

8. Find recipes, meals and food you are really good at cooking and cook on the reg. This is irrespective of whether you live with your parents, your partner, your grandparents, your dog or your best friends. Being able to prepare a meal, not just reheat something is a real skill and unfortunately a dying trait in many twenty-somethings. Indulge in a cooking class or next time someone is cooking, ask them questions, help them with cooking don’t just sit there and eat.

9. Quit sh#t that doesn’t make you happy, such as:

  1. Friendships (rule 10),
  2. Relationships (rule 11),
  3. Jobs (rule 12),
  4. Hobbies (rule 13),
  5. University (rule 14).

15. Decide who your REAL friends are and who are just the flakey ‘will be there when it suits them’ friends. It’ll suck when you realise your Facebook friends list of 5000 people are most likely not even one half of the people who legitimately have your best interests at heart or even care about you. You’ll realise your ‘close’ group of 50 plus ‘gang, crew, clique’ is nothing more than a gathering of associated people. And that’s okay. Know who your close friends are and who you can rely on and/or call when you need to cry, laugh, scream or vent. They’re the important ones.

16. Don’t settle for:

  1. Sh#t food,
  2. Sh#t sex (rule 17),
  3. Sh#t friends (rule 18),
  4. Sh#t apologies (rule 19),
  5. Sh#t excuses (rule 20),

21. Learn that it is okay to say no. Say no to things you don’t want to do. Say no to the people you don’t want to see. Say no to plans you don’t want to have to cancel last minute due to a bogus ‘cat ate my left earring so I cannot leave the house for 48 hours. Vet said’ BS line. The more you learn to accept this mantra and idea, the easier it will be come. At the end of the day the only person you have to make happy and keep happy is yourself.

22. Detox from social media every now and again. Make a conscious effort to not be constantly checking and aimlessly scrolling through nothing for no reason. I still do this to this day and shoutout to Optus for constantly reminding me that I keep going over my data #thumbsup

23. Don’t be afraid to question things. But maybe internally think through your question before blurting it out randomly. I once asked my parents if apples had seeds…. Still haven’t managed to live that down some five years later.

24. Read. Constantly. A book. An online newspaper. Keep your brain engaged on daily issues that matter.

25. Ultimately, remember that what other people think of you and their opinions of you are none of your business. You keep doing what you’re doing and what makes YOU happy and everyone else can go fly a kite.

Okay I lied, it’s twenty-five. But all are completely valid and hold merit.

Over and out,

Ez x

Modern Dating: Swipe at your own risk

‘Coz we are living in an online dating world and I am an online dating girl?

It is official. Our love lives (or lack thereof?) are a joke, a game, an absolute sham. Everyone knows this. Tinder sure as hell knows this, every time you are ‘matched’ with a possible suitor you are asked if you want to talk or keep playing? Um what? “Do you think this is a game Tinder!?” It is, in all honesty, an absolute farce. Online dating that is. Not our lives geez. Aesthetically you judge and are judged based on a selection of photographs skillfully selected to capture the audience. Now I know that this isn’t a new thing nor does it really differentiate that much from real life ‘Tindering’ BUT man does it make for thrilling fun. Take me for example, last weekend in my usual sloth-like-post-break-up state I sat at home and binge netflix’d whilst making excuses to my friends that I simply could not go out – apologies gals. It was during this time of boredom that I discovered the world of online dating. Oh woah, what a bevy of people we’ve got on there….

Now this whole online dating situation is not new. Not by a long shot. Before technology took steroids and pretty much took over every facet of media there was print media. Now not too many people know about it, but once upon a time, there was a mode of information delivery called Newspapers. It was within these newspapers that such things as classifieds came about. Now not to get confused with ‘buy, swap, sell’ which is so avidly displayed throughout Facebook, it was a sort of, match-maker/partner finder. If you know the Pina Colada song, you know classifieds. Anyway, sidetracked, this worked! I know it worked because this is where my parents met all those years ago and they are pretty much the only skerrick of hope I have in love and lasting relationships.

Fast forward to dating now. Which then brings us to the millennial ‘f*ckbois’, friends with benefits, casual hook ups and then the ever-so casual ‘never hear from you again’. And of course, there is the phone app that EVERYONE and I mean everyone uses and the is Tinder. It’s like RSVP and Facebook had an orgy with iMessage and created a super app! It’s everywhere. I have overheard on numerous occasions conversations between people somewhere along the lines of “oh I saw you on Tinder”, “you on Tinder”, “God you should see the talent on Tinder”. It is almost as though it is a rite of passage into singleton. “Oh you’re single. You on Tinder yet?” Christ give a chick a chance to get out and buy a razor, some fake tan and learn how to use chicken fillets again before jumping head first into dating again would ya?

But as with anything that’s good, it has to have its downfalls. For example, I have this friend, let’s call him Ben*. Ben is one of the nicest, weirdest and most lovable people I have ever met. Like he is THAT good, cue Rachel and Ross’ promise in Friends – if they’re not married by 40, they’d marry each other. I’m pretty sure I haven’t had that circumstantial discussion with him, should probably call dibs soon-ish. Anywho, I have known him for nearly five years and during this time, he has had one serious relationship and she turned out to be a horrible person and they parted ways. Now needless to say that has brought him to online dating. I don’t know if he does it out of boredom, legitimate interest etc., but he is probably one of the very few decent blokes I know that is on there. I am not saying that guys on there are not of a high caliber or standard. I am just saying that the guys that I KNOW that are on there, are not. It’s because of the guys who send lewd comments or just like to pester and ‘troll’ chicks that men like Ben, have no chance.

I was having quite a laugh trying to come up with a witty yet sarcastic bio that perfectly described myself to the male population currently unbeknownst to mwah. I came up with the following:

  1. Naturally I am looking for a man to justify my existence.
  2. I’m just looking for a man to change the oil in my car.
  3. If you have the same name as any of my brothers or exes I will not match with you on principle.
  4. Please show me more of your gym shirtless pics (not).
  5. I am a bitch. Just pre-warning you.

Now all of these were at some stage right up there, at the top of my list however, they didn’t make the cut. I chose to go with a more natural bio –

Na-da. Zilch. Zip. Zero.

They say ‘pictures speak a thousand words’, well oh my lord the words that were elicited from my pictures were like poetry. Some of the dribble that I was spun was so ridiculous I was actually googling nunneries in Brisbane and seeing if they had any openings. You’ve got the blokes who are just fishing for a multiple-night stand (eyeroll), you’ve got the ones who upload all of their modelling shots, Instagram bio’s and snapchats #fitspo #popular. Sometimes you’ve just got the downright creeps – older men lying about their age, married men looking for fun on the side, nymphos named Paul who are investment bankers by day but kinky son’zas at night. But then in this massive pool of men, you have the genuine guys who are there to fall in love, to find a girl and spend the rest of their lives with them. And it happens, I know it does. My sister is engaged to a guy and they’ve been together for three years and they met on Tinder. He is one of the most genuine and loving men I have ever met. My best friend is newly engaged (CONGRATS CHICKA!) to her man and they met on Tinder. He is also one of the best men I have ever met and is always there to give me a no bullsh!t response when needed and I completely appreciate that. But it’s the douches ^^ that wreck it for everyone else. Yes sure it’s funny to receive a) the most illiterate piece of trash ever written or b) the most cringworthy thing ever written but at the end of the day it isn’t anything substantial. It doesn’t equate to anything and the writer of said message; just looks like a twat.

If you have social media, any form of social media, please for the love of all things holy you need to look up Tinder Nightmares. This is what dating nightmares are made of. I’m talking catfishing, insults worse than ever, THE WORST ATTEMPT AT PICK UP LINES EVER etc. If you are happily in a relationship and content with the love bubble you reside in, please experience what Tinder nightmares is or even ask your single friends what their experiences are with dating. It’s definitely worth a giggle or two.

So you may be able to wade through the pool of online d!ck pic wielding gremlins or you may be content sipping on your peppermint tea and perusing pinterest – definitely doing the latter myself. All in all, do what makes you happy whether you’re two minutes, two weeks, two years or two decades single – don’t forget you do not need another person to feel complete or to love yourself. That’s your job.

img_1657
Adios Online ‘Friends’

So for now, the accounts deleted. The moustache-like lip wax is on and I’m tinting my ‘brows for no-one but myself. #singlelifegoals

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

Break ups suck. Period. No matter who’s in the wrong (IF anyone is). And there’s nothing, literally nothing, that anyone can say or do to change it. You go from sharing everything – no matter how disgusting, insignificant or hilarious, to nothing. Zilch. Zip. Na-da. You realise quickly how unpopular you are when the only person you text isn’t messaging you anymore and it also reiterates how boring your home life is without that person to lounge on or with. And theres no-one to binge watch the latest season of Game of Thrones with you. I haven’t finished it yet; don’t ruin it.

Stages of a break up:

  1. Numbness; irrespective of if you are dumpee or dumper it sucks. You can’t process it.  You block it. No sleep, food or Netflix can fix it because you are most definitely not hungry OR sleepy (stays for about a week give or take).
  2. Anger; again, even if you say Bye Felicia or if you were Bye Felicia’d you still are angry. You rethink every part of your relationship and stew on stupid insignificant sh*t. Sidenote: I just thought of when he didn’t tell me he liked my hair the 3cm shorter than I usually got it cut AND then proceeded to tell me he couldn’t notice – WTF?!
  3. Denial; you start questioning if it’s fixable. If it’s you. If you sought help on things if it’d work out. Could you talk more? Open lines of communication; surely that’d save everything?
  4. Sadnessdoesn’t need an explanation?
  5. Alcohol*, kidding, or am I. *no more than a bottle. Otherwise it’d be messy. Big n-o.
  6. More sadness; usually alcohol induced sadness. Cue crying into new bed sheets in fresh fake tan and ruining them. Cue further crying from said incident. Then lying on un-made bed which brings on more crying.
  7. Attention craving – Constantly. From friends, family, family pets or neighbours animals that you blatantly wish you could cuddle/steal 24/7 and lock them in your bedroom without access to sad songs or movies, cue The Notebook, Dirty Dancing etc or ANY 90’s love songs.

If you’re a lucky S.O.B, you’ve got the love and support (and sometimes anger) of your family and friends. These are the ones who you can type those ill-faired messages that you wish you could send to who they are really intended for. The ones who drag you out of your funk and make you go and have dinner with them and leave with a stitch from the laughter they provide. Or the friends who hug you so tight that you feel like your body is going to break under their weight of love. They are the ones who need to tolerate the sad spotify playlists you’ve collated and who have to listen to the CONSTANT “I just think it’s funny….” or the “looking back, you know what ….”. Your friends are honestly the greatest things you’ll ever find on this earth. Yeah your family is sick – don’t get me wrong. But your friends CHOOSE you. So you’re safe to act like yourself, be yourself. Be happy or sad or a crazy stage five clinger cryer (preferably not the latter). You are the real MVP/s.

Ofcourse, people will say ‘time heals all wounds’, ‘you’re a strong person. you’ll be fine’, please zip it. Your wisdom isn’t appreciated, needed and will not be acknowledged right now. No, I don’t want to talk about it. Yes I am aware that I am going to be okay at some stage. Yes I AM aware that there is plenty more fish in the sea (you are quite right about that one; all I have to do is google how many people there is the world). And I most certainly don’t want to know your opinion on it. UNLESS your opinion includes option five*, then I most definitely will take a bottle – or two – of sauv, house delivered to Brisbane’s Northside STAT.

There is no fool proof cheat sheet to make yourself feel better. You may drink, smoke (tsk tsk), dance, party, cry, party some more, cry some more and then come to the realisation it doesn’t fix it. The only way that you will move past it and to ‘move on with your life’ (so cliche and lame), is to take little steps everyday. You don’t wake up on a Monday after a heavy weekend of crying and eating and crying and eating (purely hypothetical) and be all “yeah woo let’s jump up on tinder. I don’t feel a thing.” Like the regretful tattoo on my sisters back says, ‘this too shall pass’. You will hurt and then one day the hurt stops. Then and only then, you can just think about them with a fond memory.

You do what you gotta do to feel better EXCEPT go through your camera roll. That’s not a good idea. Ever. Best to throw your phone in the river (possibly of your own tears) and then get a brand new one. Hell even treat yourself to an upgraded phone.

In the meantime I’m off to buy this pillow – http://www.martaussie.com/Boyfriend-Arm-Funny-Soft-Cushion-Bedroom-Washable-Huge-Body-Throw-Pillow-OK