The Dark Side to Engagement

 

I got engaged on Sunday.

(cue dramatic gasps & “OMGGGGG” squealing)

There is a dark side to engagement that I feel like nobody ever voices. Kind of like the dark side of child birth. People dream of that moment for so long in their lives – why spoil it with realistic minute by minute recounts of the event which changes your dream family size from 7 to 3?

First, the high notes, because I think they should be expressed first.
1. I love my boyfriend, and I’m so happy he asked me (I obvs said yes)
2. I love my ring more than my fave pair of shoes, or even jellybeans (thats a lot)
3. I am aware everyone around us means the best with how they have reacted, but seriously – wtf

As soon as I had the ring on my finger, I rang my mother. She was excited. TOO EXCITED. Almost as though I had told her the sky was pink tonight – and it was something she always dreamed of, but never actually thought she would see.

“Can I tell everyone? Is it a secret?!”

I value my friends in the same regard as my family, and would never want them to find out about me getting engaged via Facebook or the paper (literally, my mum still puts announcements in the paper) so this forces my hand at also letting my friends know now too.

You know – on the day we got engaged while we have just checked into our beautiful private suite…… but to be honest that’s the least of my concerns.

PROBLEM ONE – THE SINGLE FRIENDS

Now. My friends are awesome, and yes they would always be happy for me. However, I have a fair few single friends, who for some reason had their lives implode on the same weekend I got engaged. I knew they were going through a hard time, and yet had to send them a message saying I was getting married. I was gone from the dancefloor of life. Being in their position before, I know they would have instantly considered me mildly dead – soon be delivering spawn & not drinking to either fit into a wedding dress or because I was pregnant. I was dead to them until they too, got engaged.
Like opening birthday presents from aunties that are staring at you, waiting for you to see what gift they got you, and opening it to find an item you have never seen before – the awkward squaling was deafening. And so fake. And just made me feel bad.

PROBLEM TWO – THE WORK FRIEND DESPERATELY WANTING TO GET ENGAGED

This wouldn’t be a problem if she didn’t sit next to me, and tell me every day how badly she wanted to get engaged.
But she does, and she has been doing exactly that for months now.
It also didn’t help that our big boss sent a whatsapp (group chat) message announcing it, and then everyone kept sending messages to me (joking) along the lines of “AW yay! Nolonger only the bridesmaid, finally the bride!” – if I find that mildly offensive, I can only imagine her position on it.
Oh, and she sent the post to her boyfriend with the caption, “WHERE IS MINE?” and then told me all day about how happy she was for me, while in tears. Grand.

PROBLEM THREE – PARENTS ARE NIGHTMARES

This morning I woke up to a Facebook post by my boyfriends mother, claiming to be so left out & upset that she wasn’t included in our plans to get married.
Rewind – what plans? It had been 36 hours since he proposed! What plans were we meant to have?
& just as we are putting out one fire, another starts. My mother calls.
“Have you decided on a date yet?”
“Where were you thinking?”
“You know.. I’ve always wanted to go to Spain” (no one in  my family is close to being Spanish, nor my boyfriends family)
“You could always just fly *Parnters Name* family over to Australia for the wedding? How many are there? 18? That’s not too many!” (clear indication she has no intention of paying for this wedding, or wants any of his friends to come)
“Oh no! You can’t wait 18 months! You might get pregnant by then! THEN what would you do?!” (Rott in hell? Couldn’t be worse than this.. )
…..I literally ended up hanging up on her.

PROBLEM FOUR – STEALING THE LIMELIGHT

My brother is getting married in 6 weeks time. SIX WEEKS. My brother is awesome, we get along well, I love his fiance & my brother and my partner are basically best friends.
He is against all forms of attention, and even getting him to HAVE a wedding is a challenge in itself.
And then we bop along and announce we, too, are getting married. Right before their big event.
An event, mind you, that was all organised for the family, my the family. All of my aunts, uncles, cousins (i have 40 odd first cousins) and friends are invited for the show of a lifetime, when he wanted 50 guests TOPS.
My brother expressed personally to me how happy he was for us, but also at how jealous he was that we could take off next year and get married by Elvis with two witnesses for all the family cared, as he would have already taken care of the first sibling to get married in our family’s responsibility for a big show for my mother.
And while I am well aware that he would not give two shits that we have done this now, I am very conscious of the fact that my extended family (80 people large) would be making a fuss about his older sister FINALLY being taken off the shelf, and will be bringing it up at HIS wedding. That he didn’t even want to have. Not cool.
It’s awkward. Especially considering I’m also the bridesmaid.

PROBLEM FIVE – THE ALREADY MARRIED FRIENDS

I’ll be honest, they were the most excited. Probably because the days of me ripping up a dancefloor all over their social media while they were at home breastfeeding at 2am, would soon come to an end. I was, in their mind, merging over their side of the fence, and they could soon feel relieved that I was no happier than them.
Plus, a wedding (and hens party, etc) was a great excuse to ditch their babies and their husband and have a semi controlled girls night, which their partners cant say no to this.
However, with this, comes judgement.
Most of my married girlfriends, did so many years ago. That, or they are in partnerships with their baby daddy, who never popped the question (admist them actually wanting this to happen – again, awkward), & with this comes a wave of judgements through comments, over how the wow things were too over the top, and everything else somehow wasnt good enough.
& when there is nothing else to say? “Dont worry, next will be the qustion about babies, and then when the second baby is coming, and THEN you can whinge to me!”
& this was just in reply to our message letting them know he asked me to marry him…

PROBLEM SIX – I DIDNT EVEN WANT A WEDDING

Two months ago, my idea of getting engaged meant sparkle on my finger, a court date & a wild week overseas to celebrate. No actual ceremony. No spending $100k on getting everyone else drunk. No videographers. No “cheap” $1,000 invitations. No wedding announcements in the paper. No deciding on dates. NONE OF IT. I hate the idea of all of it. And now I’m looking at wedding venues on the Amalfi Coast in Italy because it’s convenient for both of our families to go there and our photos would look pretty? WHAT?!

Everyone always says, your wedding is not for you. Its for your family.

Is it rude of me to want it our (Me & Boyfi) way?

Is guilt normal?

Does everyone else get so turned off the whole thing this early, simply by all of these unnecessary pressures?

Or am I just being selfish & somehow missing something here?

PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

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Hello, world?

 

I should not be left to my own devices.

I am so desperate to go back to work that it’s actually killing me.

I originally thought I would make an excellent lady of leisure. Although, I guess I assumed everyone else I knew would be rich and have a load of free time to lunch & cause general trouble as well?

I’ve had the last week off. I’ve had lunch with everyone I can imagine. I have shopped until my bank account hurt. I have cleaned everything I can get my hands on, and even organised annoying things like car servicing & tax returns.

I became so bored I tried to service our washing machine (not required but I was reading the manual – WHY? – and it said it should be done every year).. which was completely unsuccessful (it’s now broken and won’t stop beeping at me) but it meant I then had to organise someone to come and repair the mess I made (after a lot of swearing & even a “light” kick to the machine door happened).

In fairness, I have spent the last 6 weeks ALWAYS in a large group of people, partying, sleeping, eating, general adventuring.. and now I’m home, everyone is at work, it’s raining and cold, and I am living in pyjamas. Alone. With a burnt face – but that’s a previous story.

WHAT THE FUCK DO PEOPLE DO ALL DAY WHEN THEY DONT WORK?
(or have babies – totally understand that that, in itself, is a job)

Luckily, my new job begins on Monday (and I have the first 2 weeks worth of work outfits organised, by day, already lined up in my wardrobe) – but it’s making me slightly concerned about what would happen to me if it wasn’t. You can only do so many hair treatments before your hair falls out (I presume, although I would likely test this theory given another week off).

I always considered myself an introvert. I’m super loud and love being out with my friends, but given the chance would always hide away on weeknights with my apple TV remote and whatever crap on Netflix was currently sparking my interest.

But things have gotten so bad I’ve even almost finished (not just started!) watching Pretty Little Liars! WTF. Things are bad. Very bad. I need to be out of this house. I need to be wearing real clothes. I need to be speaking to real humans. I need to be doing anything but making myself more stupid by watching shows about 4 idiot girls who don’t know how to block people on their mobile phones.

Interesting fun fact that I learned today though and is completely irrelevant: Upon breaking my washing machine I realised that I had about 4 weeks worth of washing that needed to be done, which realistically is about 8 weeks of normal peoples washing.

I loaded it up into many bags and dragged it to the laundry at the end of my street. The man tells me he will wash, dry, & fold it all for $25.

What the hell?  Is this guy for real? Thats a solid 2 days worth of washing. For $25!! Why do people clean their own clothes? (aside from being very bored and having nothing else to do.. god I wish I could wash clothes right now..) Its ludicrous. I’m pretty sure the electricity to dry those clothes alone is worth more.

I will never stop being amazed by this crazy world we live in.

PS. If anyone has good Netflix suggestions, please – PLEASE – shoot them through to me. Many thanks x

You’re so vein.

Everyone in my area at home looks the same.

It’s actually quite amusing when you think about it. Everyone pretends to be natural and #cleaneating & all that crap – while still having a body/face/head of hair full of fake, but only JUST enough in the hopes that nobody will notice.

I’m one of those people. I am usually 370% skin conscious. I wear SPF50+ sunscreen EVERY DAY in the knowledge that if I even stand too close to a window on a sunny day, I will get burnt. However, magically I am always brown. How I love you, fake tan!

I don’t think I’ve ever had a natural tan in my life. I’m ok with that.But in the lead up to my recent trip, at least 7 people who I can call out by name now told me “Oh, you don’t need sunscreen in the Meds, the sun is different there, you won’t burn, you’ll just go brown”

Now, because I am clearly as stupid as they are. I believed them.
& boy, did I burn.
Then peeled.
Then was left a spotty, freckly mess.

Now, freckles are cute. Don’t get me wrong. I think that cute little sun kisses on girls faces are adorable.
But this is not what happened. I looked like I had a brown rash. Bronzer only made it worse.

“Don’t worry!” my friend said, “You can get those lasered off when you get home, easy as pie! And its so cheap! Everyone does it!”

Oh, well if everyone does it, then I should too. Believing what idiots said before worked out so well, why not believe them again?

So off I trott this morning to the laser clinic. I’ve had laser hair removal before, and every time I ask “is this going to hurt?” and they say no. And then it does. (Why is the world full of liars by the way?)

Today I march in and ask, “Is this going to hurt?” and she says “Yes, but its quick?” – I am instantly petrified.

HURT is not the word I would use. Imagine what it would feel like to give birth to a baby who is on fire, from every pore of your skin ON YOUR FACE, all at the same time?
(Note: I have never had a baby but I’ve watched 16 & Pregnant and the girls make it look quite painful)
Well, the above would hurt less. I was seconds away from kicking the girl, just as she says “There you go! All done!”

My face felt like it had been burnt by the power of 1,000 suns. She gives me some cream (which I have to purchase for $60) and tells me to put a thin layer on, every 20 minutes for the next 3 days. THREE DAYS. How will I sleep? Also, no makeup because my face could get infected. Yes. INFECTED. My mother would not be impressed with this life choice.

On the way back to the carpark I layer this over priced “after sun” gel on my face as though my skin was a starving child eating for the first time. I probably left a trail of slime in my tracks through the shopping centre.

So I get in the car to drive home and look in the revision mirror, and almost die.

They told me that the process works by drawing out your freckles to the top of your skin, so they will appear darker, (“slightly darker” were their words – again, fucking lie. Its like a child has taken a thick black marker to my face) and then they will scab and fall off.
It was happening instantly. Where I didn’t look like a child had molested me with a marker, the remaining skin was patchy & appeared burnt. REALLY burnt. It looked even more painful than it felt – and that was a lot.

I had lunch booked today with a very good friend of mine, so instantly shot her a text to let her know not to freak out when she saw me, that I had had face laser, and had not been injured in a horrific acid throwing incident, so not to worry. She instantly writes back laughing & saying all she can think of is when Kath & Kim got a face peel (pictured above) and I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.

But it was. And is.

The interesting thing about all this though, is that when I ventured out into the world, everyone I encountered was SUPER nice to me. Ridiculously nice. Trying to have a conversation, offering me additional things (free chips at the petrol station even!) when usually we all get around completely ignoring each other.

I went to a petrol station, then a (high end) yacht club for lunch, then shopping in the city, then stopped off to buy groceries on the way home. Every place. Every person I saw. Everyone who passed me even waved a little hello and gave a small smile. WHAT THE HELL?

I wouldn’t put it down to pity exactly, but it was odd. I felt them look at my skin, and then be really nice to me, as if no one was ever nice because maybe I looked like this all the time. As if maybe I’m blessed with black marker attacked, mud stained, permanently burnt skin (it is the middle of winter here and has been raining for a week so everyone knows it isn’t sun burn) & people should be nice to me because unlike every other fool around here, I can’t pretend to look exactly the same as everyone else.

Part of me even liked it. How messed up is that?
If I had not bothered to do my hair, or dressed appropriately, or wore incorrect shoes I would have been sneered at and dismissed as trash. If I looked normal (ie. Like everyone else) I would have been ignored (in fairness, I ignore everyone too) – but all of a sudden everyone is taking notice and is being nice.

Why can’t people always be nice?
Why does it take that deep sense of pity or sorrow for a stranger in order for you to give a little smile and throw some happiness their way?
It has been blowing my mind all day.
Needless to say I won’t be venturing back out until this settles. I have no idea how I am going to pick the boy up from the airport tomorrow. Apparently its meant to get worse for the next 3 days. I have no idea how it could get worse – my eyebrows will probably fall off.

& don’t get me wrong, I am not dismissing the kindness or saying that people should have not been so nice to me today – I’m saying we should be nice to each other all the time, terrible skin treatment mistake or not!

I’m going to put this on my list of things to do this year – be nice to everyone. Even if they look exactly the same as me (and not just today when I look like a Lockness monster).

xx

Post travel blues

I have major jet lag. Its currently 4:41am on Monday, and I am multi tasking between buying clothes online (“I need them for my new job!”) and stalking everyone I’ve ever met on Facebook.

I mean – it’s technically 5am which isn’t too bad.. except for the fact that I only went to bed at 1:30am and I slept all day on Sunday (and I mean ALL day – from 6am to 6pm).

It’s amazing where your mind wanders to when it’s late at night, its quiet, there is no one to text/annoy.. & you’re just left with your thoughts.

Current theme boggling my mind – the life trifecta.

I think we have touched on this subject before. It is said (I have no idea by who, so let’s say “everyone”) that in life, you can never quite achieve the life trifecta. The life trifecta consists of 3 things – work, home & love. All 3 cannot be good at the same time. There is always an issue with one.

Now, I’m pretty good at finding issues with almost everything. Once I threw a tantrum and cried about my boyfriend going to lunch before he bought me a Gatorade and at the time I thought the world would end and he was the worst person ever because I was thirsty and he clearly didn’t care about me (this was only 2 weeks ago, not when I was 5).

But I currently can’t find anything wrong. I have the trifecta (boyfriend clearly ignored my tantrum and didn’t get mad back, thank god – he might actually be deaf).

Normal people would think “yay! go me!” – but instead I just think “ah crap” and “what the heck is going to happen now”
(To be honest, a random boy who I had nothing to do with in high school & never spoke to then – and definitely haven’t since – private messaged me on Facebook the other day ranting about how I ruined his life or I was a bitch or something, which wasn’t particularly nice, but a simple “block” fixed that problem. I don’t think that’s something going wrong exactly).

Why isn’t there life insurance that is more about ensuring your personal situation rather than paying people you are related to money if you die?

I completely understand that good things happen to good people. Luck is created from within. Giving unconditionally means unlimited good things coming your way. I have Instagram, I have read all those inspirational quotes. But seriously, this over tired girl with the weirdest tan lines in the world is concerned.

But anyway.

On a total unrelated side note, here are the things that I did or discovered on my 4 week adventure that I will never forget:
* Mediterranean salsa pringles (yes, they are a thing and they are possibly the best chip I have ever eaten, and I have eaten a lot of chips in my time)
* When people tell you that you are sick and should go to the doctor, you should go, regardless of the money it costs because otherwise you will get worse and you will literally go blind for a day, and still need to pay for the doctor anyway
* The people who told me you didn’t need sunscreen in the Med & it’s impossible to burn are a pack of filthy grave robbing liars
* 23kg is definitely enough weight allowance for a 4 week summer holiday (although I’m still unsure about how I seem to be overweight when simply flying interstate for the weekend)
* Ibiza is expensive, and I’m still trying to figure out how so many northern english people can afford to be there so often (or anyone for that matter, unless you are a Mormon and do not drink, socialise or go to super clubs – in which case, why go Ibiza?)
* I do not speak to my Dad enough. (At this current time I’m not even sure if he knows I got made redundant, or that I went on holiday, or that I’m back, or that I have a new job. Oops.)
* I’m becoming reliant on my boyfriend,  his generosity, his time, & his money. Tonight I woke up & needed water and literally was annoyed that Aaron was in London and I would have to get a glass of water myself. For real. That’s bad.
* The wedges (shoes, for the males reading) available in Europe are actually nice, wearable (as in, Crocs are ugly and therefor NOT wearable), affordable, and something that Australia should definitely have, but never will because life is cruel like that
* I did not want to come back to Sydney. This is probably the most important lesson. I have no idea why. I cried at the airport when I had to come home, and did not want to come here. Maybe this is the “home” part of the trifecta a little broken. Maybe a change is needed. I’m the Queen of change though and just moved  house (which is awesome) and just got a new job (which is awesome) & yet still, I don’t want to be here.

Ack – I think I just found my problem. The flaw in my trifecta. Slightly relieved that there is one & it isn’t just going to come out & attack me in the dark one day.
Cheers to Jetlag.
Sweet dreams to all of you who can sleep x

Sailing x

So… Where have I been?
Ha! Where have I not been?! I’m writing this from an iPhone 6 with a smashed screen – and that’s just the beginning of where my life went.

Man – still perfect. Almost too perfect. Scary perfect. But it’s interesting how when life throws you lemons, it also throws sour grapes – which doesn’t make great wine. 

My boss was an asshole. My room mate was hell. My mum got so sick I didn’t know if I would have her for too much longer. When work and home both suck you tend to disintegrate into someone you don’t recognise. Boy then didn’t like. Boy then almost left. 

But the universe has a funny way of making life happen. It’s weird. It’s uncanny. I’m writing this from my new house, home & work (ha!) life, and I couldn’t be happier. (Ps. Boy stayed). 

I got made redundant last Friday. 4 weeks before I was going to resign. For those not in Australia this means they pay you to leave – in my case, 13 weeks tax free.. Right before I jet off to Europe with my best girlfriends. 

My mum got better. She might not be in the all clear, but she is home, she is able to work and she is able to drink her wine. Better yet- she is happy. 

At first I freaked. When I get home – I don’t have a job – I had 7 days to find myself another one and spend my redundancy on good times in Croatia, Spain& Greece. Could I do it? No way. 

And is mum really ok? Or is she lying to protect me so I don’t cancel my trip? Would she do that? (Yes) – is this happening?

My new house was awesome but all my house mates would be leaving soon for overseas. What happened if I got home from holidays & couldn’t pay the rent without them?

Then I remembered – no more cunt boss. No more sad mornings. No more weirdo crazy room mate. No more friends being attacked when they came over. My mother is my mother and she would never lie to me. No more anything. 

And then I got a new job. Through a friend. Why do we always forget our friends always look out for us?

Then boyfriend of the year announces he is coming to Ibiza with us & will have a chalet with pool &’everything I always wanted for us to stay in. (I’ll be honest, we booked a cockroach hotel at the start). 

I think sometimes life has to show you how bad things can be before you appreciate how good they are. I say that because I consider myself old now and have seen too many good things to outweighs the MANY bad I have. 

I also think that deep down we all have to believe in some alteriot good. Someone- if not god, SOMETHING, is looking out for us, just because. 

Maybe I’m drunk. Maybe I’m just thankful. Maybe I don’t recognise or appreciate the YEARS of hard work I put into protecting myself. Maybe everything could turn upside down tomorrow & I will be crying with shame & the feeling of being poor & everyone can laugh at this post….

Or maybe… Maybe it might just work out..

Regardless of what life holds – 

See you on Sail Croatia next week bitches xx

Oh hey.

  
I met a unicorn. 

Perfect. Charming. Sweet. Gorgeous. Great job. Even better apartment. Smart. So funny. NOT A JERK. Thinks of fancy dates on a Tuesday. Has a huge group of just as amazing friends. Non clammy hands. Treats me like a queen even when I put my mega sass pants on & punishes him for something someone else did – but also gives me JUST enough sass back so I know I can’t get away with that shit. 

He’s perfect. 

Our interests are identical while our upbringings are completely different to ensure I don’t ever get bored. 

He has his own life, plans, friends – but if pushed, is always willing to throw them to the side for the chance to watch Netflix while I ask him annoying questions. 

He took me out for the fanciest dinner ever on a Wednesday & presented me with my own toothbrush (for his house) to ask me if I would be his girlfriend. 

I know, I know. Spew city. Stop it. Gross. 

If you had told me I would be talking like this 6 months ago I would have laughed & let you flip through my phone camera roll to see how wrong you were. 

I’m not that girl. I don’t like nice guys. I don’t like fancy dinners. I don’t like going to work from boys houses, holding hands on the bus & leaving belongings around like I’m marking my territory. 

I am very aware the type of guy he is, is not rare. Unicorns are everywhere. They always just creeped me out. I don’t want to be with someone perfect when I saw so many flaws in myself. I wasn’t ready to settle down. I wasn’t ready to feel old. Children make my skin crawl. I fought for so long to be so independent & free, why would I ever want to give that up. 

What the fuck happened?

& I met him at a music festival. I was so retarded my first words to him were “I can’t see” – and considering I also couldn’t feel my legs, that was probably the least of my problems. 

Someone needs to explain this to me because I’m at a loss. Scared but secretly amazed. I honest to god thought that line “you’ll find the best thing ever as soon as you stop looking and be happy within yourself” was just something people said to make others feel better about their life. 

& now here we are. 

New year, new… ?

  
Aloha!

I am in Hawaii. Just for the NYE break, then back to the grind.. & no, I’m not here on some romantic holiday with some amazing boy I met at the bus stop while we were both listening to the same playlist on Spotify – I’m here with the girls. 

Not that there haven’t been plenty of boys floating around while we have been here…. But we shall save that for another time. 

It’s that time of the year again where we all sit & reflect on what we are going to change before this time next year when we sit & do it again. I was at a seminar earlier this year & a guy I met told me to pick a theme, instead of actual achievements… Because life is about he journey, not the destination (or some rubbish like that, I was too busy stuffing my face with free ham & cheese crossaints to listen properly) 

Hawaii has helped this process of choosing my theme. Mainly because I’ve left “the real world” and I’ve spent every night shit faced dancing with pretty boys & taking naps of the beach all day between hoovering way too many iHop pancakes. 

My theme for 2016? SELFISH. 

Yes. I’m well aware that it’s an evil, nasty, dead word & no one would ever want to be called selfish. But in context it can be empowering… I hope. 

I have found I almost always do everything everyone else wants to do. All the time. It takes a huge desire for me to want something, to actually speak up and get it. I’ve always put that down to being laid back & generally not giving a fuck – but the time has flown past & I’ve helped everyone get what they want (reads: done it for them) while I’ve done nothing about my own set of goals. 

Not that I have goals but I imagine once I’m selfish I’ll come up with tonnes. 

I’m going to date more than one guy at a time. Options open & all that crap. 

I’m going to actually pass my exams this year (or I’ll start by enrolling which by itself would be an accomplishment)

I’m going to use that damn eye cream I got conned into buying for a stupid amount of money & have been saving (for what? A fucking apocolypse where only the most moisturised eyes survive?!)

I’m going to learn how to say no. 

I’m going to order my own food instead of paying to share brunch plates with friends containing everything I don’t eat. 

I’m going to be more vocal about how much of a twat my boss is (in the nicest, politically correct, possible way of course)

I’m going to not feel obliged to nvite everyone I know on my Euro 2016 adventure, to then feel obligated to make sure everyone is having fun & doing everything they want to do while they are there. I will be too busying partying & sniffing cute boys to care. 

& for now, in this very moment, I am going to lie under my beach umbrella (sun burn is for fools) and eat my packet of potato crisps with absolutely zero fucks in the world because that’s EXACTLY what I feel like doing, despite my friend whinging that she wants me to walk back to the hotel room so she can wash her hair for 4 hours. 

Mahalo! x

Ps. 

 
😂😂😂😂 boom. See you again this time next year, world! 😂😂😂😂