Grinchin'

The Christmas season starts earlier each year.
And each year that I see the green and red decorations at the front of shops in late October/early November I get a little bit Grinchy.

So here is my pre christmas gripe, in hope that by the time Christmas actaully comes around, I'll have given into the festivities and will be shouting Christmas praises to the sky.

Why Australia? Why.

Why are we still singing songs about 'Jingle bells' and 'Frosty the Snowman' when it is 40C (100F) outside?
'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas'?

For gods sake my beautiful, sweltering southern hemisphere country. Its summer here in Christmas time. Embrace it. 

But while we're on the topic of the songs.

There needs to be some official rule about when it is okay to start singing and playing Christmas songs in shops. Yes. I understand. It was a very, silent, holy night on the night of the first christmas. A very, VERY silent, holy night. But please. Please. Only subject me to that song, at the very VERY earliest, two weeks before Christmas. Please. And whosoever dares even HUM a Christmas tune after boxing day in my presence will feel the full extent of my wrath.

Another thing which should never have been allowed to become a part of Christmas, is the motion detector santa

'HO! HO! HO! MEEEEEERY CHRISTMAS!!!! JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS....'

MRRRAAAAAUUUGHHHHH!!!!

Okay. But other than those things, Christmas is usually fine.

Except that I end up broke and fat by the end of it.

Again. Christmas in summer. Why Australia? Why?

siiiigh. Now... when I rule the world... hahaha. 

All I want

Its a frightening and exciting life being led these days. 

Finishing off a 3 year life commitment at uni, the world is open again, in fact, more so than it was after the HSC. Because when that finished there was the pressure to put your hard work and energy to use. For a little while it seemed like your study choices and locations of study were judged, that the world was a little bit out to get you. As my cousin Matt would say: 'Like a midget at a urinal, I was gonna have to stay on my toes'.

        MAKE SURE YOU DO SOMETHING                WORTHWHILE ELYSE. 
    STOP WITH ALL THE SQUANDERING

So... of course. My response to that was to go out and get a film degree...

My lack of exams and max 9 hour weekly contact hours made a lot of  people sick. My sister especially: 'How is this a real degree again?'

Unfortunately if I could have shut her down quickly I would have. 3 years later and having done a subject which was essentially 'the theory of theory' I'm still wondering the same question.You know what I've realised now though?
In the time I've been 'studying' I actually gave myself a couple of great gifts. I gave myself time and I gave myself life experience. 

How was I supposed to know what I wanted to do as soon as I left school? I really hadn't done ANYTHING which would give me any indication of my real world interests. I hadn't even had a proper job! I mean... I'd been a paper girl. But all that had shown me was that I didn't want to be a paper girl. How is anyone supposed to know straight away?

I knew I couldn't go back into intense study straight away. HSC had done me in. I was gone. My brain well and truly fried. So I was gentle on myself, I picked something fun. And it was in fact the best decision I could have ever made because it gave me the chance to travel, to relax and get to know myself. I legitimately feel ready now to make some life decisions. I've earned the right to take ownership for my own life.

I realised last night that this year especially I have gone the FULL spectrum of the emotional scale and have come to know myself inside out.

And then inside out all the fuck over again.

I feel like I've known exhilarating happiness and crippling sadness. 
I've been affected by death and illness, but also been totally and utterly consumed in love - which is the best feeling in the world. Until that too ends and then you find yourself curled in a little ball on the kitchen floor with your knuckles pressed firmly against your eyes. 
I've felt genuine fear for my safety on the streets of Atlanta, but also complete and total abandon. For me running is such a release. 
I've had every single one of my beliefs challenged and cut down, and had to rebuild them from the floor up. Changing them to make understanding in my new world view. 
I still don't know exactly what I believe. And I think the moment I know I'm right, I'm almost definitely wrong.

Leaving uni in a week, I don't feel daunted, even though I don't know exactly where my future for next year lies, let alone my life ahead. I am filled with the sense that I have the personal power to really do or achieve anything I set my mind wholeheartedly to.

In fact, there's only one thing I will never be able to and that is to run my hands and rub my face in Aslan's thick, golden mane.

Damn you C.S Lewis

Life Etiquette

I am always astounded by how clueless some people can be. So I've decided to write this little list about life etiquette, little things I've picked up, which seem to be universal and therefore are extremely important for life

1. No pooping in a public bathroom. 

I don't care if you've just eaten a whole packet of liquorice and washed it down with a carton of prune juice. I don't care if you've been prairie dogging all day. I just don't care. No pooping in a public bathroom. Just. Don't. Not only is it awkward for EVERYONE around you, who you are literally forcing to listen to you poop. But it is awkward and uncomfortable for every single following person who uses the stall for the rest of the day. And just downright unfair on the cleaner.

Don't do it.

2. Men: You are the big spoon.

Some advice from my good friend Ed

"It is completely un-chivalrous, as a man, to want to be the little spoon. Be a man. Cuddle that woman! I don't care if you get a dead arm, a face full of hair and an awkward boner... You just do it."

- Spoken like a true man

3. Women: Laugh at a man at your own peril.

Unless, of course, he's trying to be funny.

4. Luggage across countries.

The amount of extra weight you're allowed to take on board a plane has a simple formula:

Attractive male at counter + smiling and hair twirling = extra 5 kilo allowance

Unattractive male at counter + smiling and hair twirling = extra 10 kilo allowance

Fat lady at counter + smiling and hair twirling = minus 10 kilo allowance

5. Manners.

At the risk of sounding preachy, the importance of good manners cannot be exaggerated. 

Eating out? Keep your mouth closed when you chew.

Transport? Keep your legs together, bag on your lap or by your feet, and don't force the whole bus/train to listen to your conversation.

Accidental confrontation with ex in public space? Say a quick hello, or at least grin from the side of your mouth. Even if you only ever accidentally dated them.

6. Holding the door.

Analyse the appropriateness of this situation. If the person behind you is simply too far away, you're forcing them to do this awkward walk/run for the door and look up at you with forced appreciation as they grunt 'thanks' from behind a sweaty brow. That is less polite then just shutting the door behind you.

7. Appearance.

You can get away with looking bad. You can NEVER get away with smelling bad.

8. Phrases to use with extreme caution...

a) Wow. You look tired

b) How many calories are in this?

c) Are you pregnant? (This one should in fact NEVER be used unless you can ACTUALLY SEE THE BABY COMING OUT)

9. Swear Words.

Cussing has its time and place, but often you'll look better, win your argument, improve your vocab and save friendships if you refrain. Use the big impact words sparingly, and they'll have a bigger impact.

10. Expense.

Never buy an expensive: umbrella, dog or phone. You'll only lose it, have to deal with a whole bunch of inbred problems, or smash its screen. Honest. Also, I get completely paranoid when my smartphone stalls and takes ages for the screen to load. WHAT IF IT WAS AN EMERGENCY? WHAT IF I WAS STUCK IN AN AVALANCHE RIGHT NOW?? HOW WOULD I CALL FOR HELP??

On the other hand, don't skimp on things like: Good food, good times with friends, and a really good bra. The important things in life.

11. Extras.

If you pick at it, it wont heal.

If you want someone to like you, let them win.

Also, if in doubt, the milk is always off.

Tough. Mudder.

So... I figured I should write about it, seeing as I spent so much of the past 6 months bitching and whinging about the death run I embarked on yesterday.

TOUGH MUDDER!!!!

Whooo biatch!

The event itself was... completely exhausting and crazy. Just to get into the starting pen you had to scale a little wall, just to PROVE that you were ready for this. Like being there and paying all that money to participate wasn't enough anyway. The MC started screaming at us.
"ARE YOU READY MUDDERS!!!???? MUDDERS DO NOT WHINE!!!! MUDDERS HELP EACH OTHER!!!! THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOUR FINISHING TIME... THIS IS JUST ABOUT FINISHING!!!!"

And lord was it ever.

I guess, as tribute to all the trolley pushing and shopping bag lifting I did prior to the event, the first 10kms were pretty okay. The obstacles were mildly challenging, but not too exhausting. For example, the ice baths: They were seriously, SERIOUSLY cold. But only went for about 5 meters, so the torture didn't last too long.

These girls faces capture the experience perfectly.

Extra Ice added!!

There were Berlin walls, which started at 9" high and I needed the help of Joseph to get over. These got increasingly difficult in the 2nd half of the course when you were completely mud drenched, exhausted, and the height was increased to 12". This is where I got the majority of my scrapes and bruises, and would NOT have been able to do this if I didn't have some of my favourite guys boosting me up as easily as a mother bird boosts chunks into its baby's mouth. (I realise that's a disgusting comparison, but in all honesty, there is no other way to describe the speed at which I was moving, and simultaneously describe what I looked like that that point)

Thin steps only on the front side of the wall

All mudded up

War wounds

There were many other elements. A fire run, net climb, carrying a huge log of wood for 1/4th of a mile,  a greased half pipe, electrocution, underground tunnels, a plank to dive off. It was pretty intense.


The two which particularly come to mind as the craziest, most frightening and exhausting are as follows:



1) The electric eel

Premise: Crawl 30 meters on your belly, through wires which are periodically going to zap you with up to 10 000 volts.

I'm pretty sure this woman's face accurately depicts how I felt about this challenge.

This entire obstacle would have been terrifying enough. But literally as we were just about to go through it, the guy in front of me started having spasms. He started jerking violently from side to side and was groaning like a bull in heat.

"HELP!" he started screaming... "HELP!!!"

Then he just stopped moving all together.


People started to notice and were crying out for someone to help him. Some dumb lady was like...
"DO YOU STILL WANT TO CONTINUE???"
and I was like
"WHAT THE HELL LADY! JUST GET HIM OUTTA THERE!"

So they got him out, and he was conscious when they did. So I assume he was okay. Everyone was standing there, just watching in shock and horror. Suddenly one guy goes...

"...THE ELECTRICITY'S NOT ON!!"

and there was pandemonium.

Everyone dived in at once, trying to get to the other side before the organisers realised what was happening. I knelt down and pushed myself through, managing to get really good speed and slide about halfway. in fact I went TOO fast and caught up to Josh's feet.
He wasn't moving fast enough...
"GO! JOSH! GOGOGOGOGOGOGOGO"
It was the screams of a crazy person.
The first shock got me about half way through. It just felt like a dull thump. I relaxed, thinking, if that's all there was to it, I'd be fine. The second shock hurt. It made me levitate  off the ground for just a small instant. James was at the other end, pulling me out before I could get zapped again, but then as I turned to pull Shaun out from behind me a shock which he received passed through me and threw me on the ground.

Lesson learned: Electricity is not fun.

1) Mud Mile

Premise: Wade through mud trenches which stretch on for a mile

I weep because there is no words I can use which will ever be able to express to you just how much mud there was.
I mean... you go into these things thinking there is going to be lot of mud. But in reality

  YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA JUST HOW MUCH MUD THERE IS GOING TO BE.

You've gotta hand it to these organisers. They've done their research. They had mud of all different consistencies throughout the challenge which kept things interesting but for this one in particular, the mud was like glue. Legitimately. I was moving as fast as I possibly could yet could only watch in disbelief as my limbs were operating in extreme slow motion. 

So energy sapping, so exhausting. So much mud.

As Patrick aptly described: "Mud in every orifice".

You know what though? We had to get through it together. There is no way one person could have done it on their own. And THAT is what Tough Mudder is about. It's about camaraderie and selflessness. Donating the reserves of your energy to help someone else through. And even if your shirt is so full of mud that it looks like you have 4 boobs instead of 2, hey, no one is judging. You leave your dignity at the door and then just enjoy the experience for what it is. :)

Some extra pictures:

electric therapy

Fire run

Fuck. You.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

This is why we can't have nice things

Let me just clarify.

By 'We' I mean me. And by 'nice things' I mean nutella.

Yes, like a recovering alcoholic I have been forced to make an executive decision about this spread made from angel diarrhoea. Because I cannot stop at just a little bit, I am not allowed to have ANY. EVER AGAIN.

EVER

EVER

EVER

EVER

It's the latest in a relatively new list I have made for myself. A list aptly titled:

 'Things I need to stop doing if I want to live'

The list includes:

- Stop shoving the Q tips so far into my ear.

You all do it too! I know you do! But did you know that you're not meant to put them anywhere NEAR your ear canal? My soon-to-be doctor friend Laura, informed me once that, as an inept, I should never attempt to put anything smaller than my elbow in my ear. The problem here is that it is so damn... satisfying. Sticking the little white stick in, swivelling it around gently inside. Feeling the slight resistance. “THAT'S YOU EAR WAX! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I CAN HEAR YOU”. And then you take it out and admire your efforts. It's a strange mix of disgust and pride. I mean, it looks gross. But you (or at least I) always have the little thought of like...I made this. This is mine.

Almost like a baby.

- Stop anticipating the pedestrian walk light at busy city intersections

Ah traffic lights. The great equaliser.

I practised at the small ones first, until I thought I'd honed my skills. Soon I was skipping merrily across busy intersections in the city, thinking to the other pedestrians, Oh you silly fools! Don't you know it takes 3 seconds after the lights turn red for the little green man to awaken and glint as us? That's 3 seconds of your LIVES you will never get back.

And then the little green man would flash and I'd feel like the mother trucking pied piper as they all trooped after me, wishing they had my superior road crossing intuition.

I should probably stop doing this. Just in case one day I get it wrong

- Stop driving aroud without my P-plates.

When I first got my P's I was ecstatic. I grabbed a handful of them at the RTA and displayed them proudly. Nearly 2 years on and I am almost at the end of my provisional license years. Whether it be weather, smartass vandals, breakage or simply lost in the vortext which is the open road, somehow I have lost all my p-plates. And I'll be damned if I have to go pick some more up just before I get my full license.

I probably should though. I'll be pulled for an RBT at some point, be fined so hard that I'll be kicked out of home and forced to live on the strets. And die. Probably

The list is extensive. It also includes:

• Just buy a bus ticket at the 7/11 in Sydney like I'm supposed to, rather than consistently walking up to the bus drivers and asking for a ride. One day one of them will snap. And I mean in a serial killer way, not in a chariatable way.

• I must get over the idea that now I have brown knee high boots. Wearing them does not mean I have now automatically become a cowboy, and I may not take justice into my own hands wherever I see fit. Someone is going to seriously kick my ass one day

• Stop rolling my eyes whenever I heard my lecturer talk about 'tinkling glockenspiels'. I'm am paying for this course so it MUST be important dammit!
  
  
• Stop making eye contact with homeless people and not following through with giving them money
  
  
• stop thinking that I can take the stairs at uni. If I had actually trained for Tough Mudder as often as I've thought about training for it, I'd be fit enough to do this. But I haven't. SO I cannot.

I am telling you all this readers, you can can help keep me accountable. Many of the things on this list go against my most basic and primitive instinct and I'll need all the support I can get.

Songs to close your eyes to

Some times all you need is a dark room and a good, slow playlist.

Here you go.

WTF August

The beginning of this post:

Words I can never spell the first time correctly.

Diarrhoea.


There are others of course, but I realised this one when I was beginning my post below...

The REAL beginning of this post:

WTF August. Just be over already.

I don't know what it's been with this month. But seriously. Everyone seems to be having a breakdown, and I'm sure it's got nothing to do with private and personal life issues, but has something to do with the fact that this month. August 2012, is cursed.

Long term relationships breaking down left, right and centre, people dying, cats fighting, trains breaking down, depression, parents leaving to go to Russia, weight gain, diarrhoea (ey! Ey!) I'm convinced that my room is the exit to a worm hole which, on the other end, some hephalump is throwing clothes and books and general shit down, so no matter how much I clean, there is always not an ounce of floor space in my room for my feet to enjoy.

Seriously August. What are you trying to do to me?

A poetic interlude:

Here I have some advice

though I know you'll think twice

stick your tongue out and probably snigger.

But the moment you stop acting like such a dick

you'll find it will probably grow bigger

Back to the blog:

I've found myself having to be not only my own, but about 4 other people's therapist this month and so as a tribute to that time and energy, I'd like to immortalise some of the advice I have given myself and my patients. So that next time an August decides to descend on me and my friends, we can just head to this post and save ourselves a lot of time.

1. You are going to be okay. There will be more times in your life that you are happy and fulfilled than you've been sad right now.

2. Have you had any nutella yet?

3. Why do you still have coldplay on your itunes? Delete that shit. Also, Ed Sheeran and Adele. They're banished y'hear me? Banished.

4. Have you been bush dancing yet? If not. Why not.

5. Drink lots of tea. It is warm and soothing, and make you happy. But not too much dandelion tea. because that shit is a laxative.

So there you go. Elyse's top 5 tips for surviving a black month. Tried and tested remedies. You're all welcome. Just keep telling all the people you love that you love them (in a non creepy, stalker-ish way) and things will end up okay in the end.

Dear Cat

Dear Cat.

It's cold in this house and I have body heat you'd like to steal. But in the process of being a selfish, warmth grubbing thief, you actually turn into a hot waterbottle. Cat. You are a wizard.

Dear Cat.

When you're hungry you meow incessantly. In my ear. At 4am and 8am.
What you don't know is that I rely on you to wake me for both my witching hour bathroom dash, and my mid morning uni scramble.

Dear Cat.

You think you're pressuring me into getting up by walking up and down my back with your claws out, but really, its acupuncture. And I enjoy it. Kinda.

Dear Cat.

You were right. I did need comforting. But by sitting right on my bladder you have created a more desperate need, and for that I resent you.

Dear Cat.

My feet are wide and cold, but you are fat. In fact, tonight, you're just about the most perfect size you've ever been.

Walk it off

Sometimes people leave your life.
It makes it harder when there is no real good reason for it. Or reason you can understand.
It hurts when someone dies. But more so when they're dead because you being alive wasn't enough for them to keep going. When someone deliberately chooses to leave your life, it hurts more then when they didn't have a choice in it.
At least. Thats what I think anyway.
And I'm not really sure that there's a solution to the sadness. You just have to try to make space in your life for MORE good and beautiful things. And acknowledge them, and celebrate them... and just keep reminding yourself that, it's not your fault. Sometimes people are just the way they are. And nothing you could have ever done, ever could have changed that.

Sometimes people make decisions, both consciously, and subconsciously, to leave you. And I guess you sometimes have to just take it on the shoulders and add it to the book, the story you're going to share with your grandchildren some day. All this is just another chapter to your story.

Because in the end, you can't control other people. Not matter how much you try or might want to. You can only control yourself and your future, and your actions. You're only your own author.

My rapidly approaching death.

Some people fear death. Most actively avoid it.

I on the other hand, have paid $100 to die. In a horrible, public way.

Tough Mudder.

A 20km obstacle course/death run designed by the British SAS. Pretty much to kill you. If running though mud, ice cold water and jumping walls doesn't sound bad enough for you, rest assured. There is fire and electricity involved as well.

So... when I signed up in February I was like. YUP. PLEEEEEEENTY of time to get fit! What I forgot to take into account was that I was going to be visiting Serbia where the culture is like

And so... I find myself less than 2 months out, and looking more like this

than the sculpted Elyse I had in mind...

So... the only reasonable expectation for me? 

Death

Return to America: I see fat people

Oooooh America. You've done it again.

Reasons to return to the U.S (particularly the South): 

1. Dark chocolate, raspberry flavoured m&ms

2. Peanut butter and Jelly flavoured Lattes

3. Free refills

4. Boosted self esteem from 80% of the population being double the weight you are

5. EEEEEAAAGLESSSS

6. Marines 

7. Summer!

8. Boiled peanuts

10. Going to a Starbucks in Atlanta, saying your name and being heard as Kalesse (and going along with it coz I'm a proud independent black woman who don' need no man, gurlfraaand!) (really wanting to refer this clip to the lady http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCdmiZyyGjQ )

11. The beautiful housing architecture

12. Cheap everything

13. Having the exotic, 'sexy' accent

14. Deer, squirrels and racoons.

15. Trying to convince your boyfriend that these animals are all really cute and that he shouldn't try to shoot them.

16. Shooting guns.

17. Cheerwine

18. The interstate

19. Seeing awesome movies before their Australian release date

20. Feeling safe in dangerous, black neighbourhoods because you have the figure of a black woman but you're not black. 

21. Friendly people

22. Friendly drug addled people telling you not to trust anyone because this is a shady drug neighbour hood, but can they help me with my bags?

23. Realising that Australian chocolate is superior to Hersheys, and as a result, becoming a chocolate goddesss as you shower young children with incredible chocolate delights.

24. Finding an incredible 'boob' dress

25. Realising that the powers of skype and modern day technology can easily and accurately connect people from wherever, whenever.

iwrotethisforyou

Completely and shamelessly stolen from: iwrotethisforyou


You will not remember much from school.

School is designed to teach you how to respond and listen to authority figures in the event of an emergency. Like if there's a bomb in a mall or a fire in an office. It can, apparently, take you more than a decade to learn this. These are not the best days of your life. They are still ahead of you. You will fall in love and have your heart broken in many different, new and interesting ways in college or university (if you go) and you will actually learn things, as at this point, people will believe you have a good chance of obeying authority and surviving, in the event of an emergency. If, in your chosen career path, there are award shows that give out more than ten awards in one night or you have to pay someone to actually take the award home to put on your mantlepiece, then those awards are more than likely designed to make young people in their 20's work very late, for free, for other people. Those people will do their best to convince you that they have value. They don't. Only the things you do have real, lasting value, not the things you get for the things you do. You will, at some point, realise that no trophy loves you as much as you love it, that it cannot pay your bills (even if it increases your salary slightly) and that it won't hold your hand tightly as you say your last words on your deathbed. Only people who love you can do that. If you make art to feel better, make sure it eventually makes you feel better. If it doesn't, stop making it. You will love someone differently, as time passes. If you always expect to feel the same kind of love you felt when you first met someone, you will always be looking for new people to love. Love doesn't fade. It just changes as it grows. It would be boring if it didn't. There is no truly "right" way of writing, painting, being or thinking, only things which have happened before. People who tell you differently are assholes, petrified of change, who should be violently ignored. No philosophy, mantra or piece of advice will hold true for every conceivable situation. "The early bird catches the worm" does not apply to minefields. Perfection only exists in poetry and movies, everyone fights occasionally and no sane person is ever completely sure of anything. Nothing is wrong with any of this. Wisdom does not come from age, wisdom comes from doing things. Be very, very careful of people who call themselves wise, artists, poets or gurus. If you eat well, exercise often and drink enough water, you have a good chance of living a long and happy life. The only time you can really be happy, is right now. There is no other moment that exists that is more important than this one. Do not sacrifice this moment in the hopes of a better one. It is easy to remember all these things when they are being said, it is much harder to remember them when you are stuck in traffic or lying in bed worrying about the next day. If you want to move people, simply tell them the truth. Today, it is rarer than it's ever been.

(People will write things like this on posters (some of the words will be bigger than others) or speak them softly over music as art (pause for effect). The reason this happens is because as a society, we need to self-medicate against apathy and the slow, gradual death that can happen to anyone, should they confuse life with actually living.)






http://www.iwrotethisforyou.me/2012/06/truth-as-it-currently-stands.html

A whine and some wine on the plane

When the plane hit mild turbulence for the first time in my trip, directly after I pulled my laptop out for the first time, my panicked thought was.

'Wait, was this one of those planes that you're not allowed to use ANY electronic equipment on?' because I have been on those planes, and I couldn't remember if this was one of those or if I had heared the flight attendants make any sort of announcement about this. My second, far less rational thought was, 'Oh well. This is what they get for turning off the inflight entertainment system on a 15 hour flight to Los Angles'. See, to me, if one person's inflight entertainment is working and they are happily enjoying watching Marky Mark Wahlburg flaunt himself all over the screen, just because 200 other passengers don't have this pleasure doesn't mean you should turn the whole thing off. At least, thats what I think. Apparently I am incorrect. 15 dull hours worth of incorrect.

So now, to amuse herself, my window seat companion is now going through her 4^th Jacobs Creek Wine bottle (which I personally think is very inconsiderable of her because although she is a quiet, pleasant drunk, it means she is definitely going to have to get up in the flight AGAIN at some point to pee, disturbing me and the man to my left again too) (yes, you did read that right, I am in the middle seat, aka: Torture row). It has also left me with little option but to pull out my potentially plane-system-interfearing-and-then-violent-crashing-burning-horrific-death- laptop, to record these events, to save myself from going insane.

I think it is universally acknowledged that flying overnight anywhere in economy is the only time it is ever acceptable to sleep like this.

Unfortunately, I am a particularly special case, and with my blessed 6'2 form, cannot reach my lap and am forced to perform a knee massage on the passenger in front of me. You're welcome you reclining asshole.

Another thing I'm paranoid about is getting diseased. Both people on either side of me are coughing and sneezing. I'd like to take a moment here to thank my mum for getting sick last week, which hopefully (because I didn't catch it) reinforced my immunity to this specific strain. Also, if anyone touches or scratches their hair at all... they have nits. I'm sorry. They just. Do.

Don't get me wrong. I am so, super stoked to be on this plane. To be able to fly anywhere at all puts me in such a minority group and I'm extraordinarily grateful.The chances of me getting on this plane at all were extraordinarily slim, as with Dad's job I get staff flight prices but with the risk of not getting a seat at all.

If someone misses their flight. I get a seat. Yes, I am she who prays for rainy days and bad traffic on the morning of my flight, preferably around the rich suburbs of Sydney though so that one of the people who misses checkin is a first class passenger. That's the special part of my situation. I'm horribly cramped, bored and slightly nauseous – but unlike my fellows around me and through only sheer luck rather than because of any personal accomplishment, status or hard work, I know of what awaits behind the mysterious, heavy, dark blue divider curtain. First Class. The land of milk and honey my friends, the land of milk and honey...

Attractive flight attendants dressed in gold glittering vests, flit between seats like angels, offering you every beverage, entertainment or comfort the world offers. They take your coat and hang it in your own private coat locker. You have more leg space than you know what to do with, in fact, your seat is actually more like a suite. You have about 20 different buttons to adjust the exact position of your chair and can even, if you so wish, command it to perform a back massage or or gently vibrate for the duration of the trip. The little baggies handed out with toiletries contain more bathroom products that you personally do for yourself at home and the pyjamas given to you are soft, light, breathable cotton which beg to be wrapped under the large, flurry red doona provided.

Do all you econ travellers hate me right now? It's okay. I hate me a little right now too.

One thing economy does have which first class does not, is a sense of community. There is no pretentiousness here. We've all gotten over the fact that we'll have to work out a rotational system for our elbows to use the armrests, we've all co-developed (especially middle chair me) a system of eating which required an elbows tucked in 'attack from above' approach, much like a hawk. We've all come to realise that in an emergency, the only real people with any chance of making it to the exits are the people in the exit row and the rest of us are all doomed, and we've worked our way through accepting this together. We've rubbed groins with strangers as we battle our way to the bathrooms and back. It's a bonding experience like no other.

I wonder if I pitch it like this to the first class passengers they'll want to swap seats with me...

(extra. Make that, 5 wines, and 3 more toilet trips...)

The Nutella Chronicals

It's become soul consuming and I'm fast realising that I'm in deep. DEEP trouble.
Nutella.
It's become (to put it mildly) a bit of a problem for me. A problem which began somewhere around the time that I noticed this soft, smooth, brown, succulent devil spread can be drunk as easily as water.

All too often I find myself alone in the kitchen, armed with a teaspoon, battling my inner Nutella obsessed leprechaun.

Like I said. It's become a bit of a problem.


It all came to a head when Danielle went to the pantry yesterday and opened it.


No nutella.

She looked at me firstly in panic, then in slight disgust, then... in pure, undiluted rage.

'Where. Is. The. Nutella?' she said slowly, menacingly and began to advance towards me, brandishing her bread knife.

"Danielle I swear to God I don't know. I asked YOU to hide it from ME remember!?' (This moment of sanity occurred in one of my rare lucid moments, possibly while the leprechaun was napping).

She pauses. Somehow the fog of her Nutella blood lust clears a little. We hear a snicker from the study.

"Mum?"

No reply. We instantly know she's guilty because our mother had super powers and can hear anything being said from anywhere in the house.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Mum: "I hid it... again"

We both stared at one another in shock. It is a rare moment when mum is THIS involved in our food choices. (Note: Crap. I just typed 'mom' and had to backspace. I'm going to hell)

Danielle turned on the puppy eyes: Mum? Where is it? You know I can be trusted. It's Elyse who can't
Elyse: It's true. I can't
Mum: No, no. All children must be out of the room before I get the Nutella out.
Danielle: please! Elyse will close her eyes!
Mum: No. I don't trust her
Elyse: Good. You shouldn't. I can't be trusted with the Nutella.
Danielle: Elyse! Please! Just don't peek.
Elyse: I'd promise... but I'll break that promise.
Danielle (getting desperate now) Pleeeease mum. Just show me where it is! We can hide it again after somewhere else.
Mum: No! This is the best hiding place I've ever found.

We were at an impasse.

Mum: Okay. Here's what we're going to do. You have to cover your head with my jacket Elyse, and you too Danielle. And THEN I'll get the Nutella.
Danielle: WHAT!?
Mum: Thats the condition

She left us no choice

And this is what Wednesday night at the Glynn household consisted of. All because of my unhealthy obsession with Nutella. If anyone knows of any support groups, please hook me up.

Life

Is it you? Or me? Or maybe it's all of us. Maybe we need to stop pretending that this is a story line to the next great Shakespearian play and realise this for what it is. This is it. The be all and end all. Life. How is yours going to end up? When are we going to realise that we will never be this exact age again? In this time, in this moment again? We can't just store it away to come back to it. It's going to be over one day. How is this only just hitting me now? Surely the universe didn't exist before I was born. Surely there will be international chaos in the event of my death. Right?

My life? I want my life to be this open adventure. This world of excitement and travel and possibilities. And maybe I'm just naive like that. Maybe one day in my travels I'll come across something I can't unsee, something I can't get over. And then I'll just want to hole up and find a warm pair of arms to entomb myself in for the rest of my days. But for the moment, I'm just plain inspired. The rose tint is not just covering my glasses, but is infused in my soul. Things are a mess, but I can change it. Life is unfair, but things work out. Everyone, and everything is inherently good. Somewhere along the way for some people, things went horrifically wrong. And some times, in the silence and solitude and loneliness that is night, I mourn for these people. Because I think God is mourning for them. But mostly its easy to just see smiles in the world. To only see twinkles in eyes and lovers holding hands. To see screaming children and admire the frazzled mothers who, even after only 3 hours sleep, can pick them up and rock them and sooth them with all the love in the world which they themselves might never even have had experienced. But it's in us all. Its instinctual.

I want to eat delicious food. And then I want to starve. Both for a little while. Just so I can know. Just so I can experience and discover. I want to eat disgusting things and vomit afterwards, just to say that I did so. God forbid I ever waste food, or eat it standing at the fridge. Food is the experience. Taste it. Combine the textures, the flavours. Give them names, make it a story. It'll be a tragic story in the end, but a story none the less.

Life is a story. That is all this is going to come down to I think. That's all we'll have in the end. I don't just want to type my story. I want it to be scrap booked and designed. I want pictures and paintings. I'll design the front cover and write the blurb. I'm going to sticky tape movie stubs and photos and music to the pages. You can do whatever the hell you want with yours. This one is mine. Sometimes I'm going to rip out pages and want to burn them. I hope I don't. I hope I stick them back in. So that one day, when I tell my story, someone will know what I went through. And they'll see the crinkles in the paper, know the pain, and be able to learn. Learn for their own lives. learn about me. I'm going to make up my own words and never apologise if you can't understand them. Sometimes you'll have to sound them out, and work out, just from the sounds of the letters, what I'm trying to say. Maybe you'll even have to lick them. Just to taste the experience. Smell the paper. Use all your senses. That's what this life is about. 

Remember to breathe deeply. Enjoy the taste of air, the taste of water, and the taste of chlorine as you bob underwater trying to have your little sister guess the words you are trying to say. Family is everything. Letting someone into your family (like a life partner) is the biggest, most important decision you will ever make in your life. That person needs to come first. Even before you. And there should be nothing they can say, nothing they can do to turn you from them. Thats why its important to chose carefully. Chose someone who would never, never deliberately hurt you. Because you're giving them all the power and opportunities to. 

This is what I've learned so far. This is what I believe. This is the cotton candy I have wrapped around my hands and try to stick to everything I touch. I'm in love with life, and my story so far. And it's so damn exciting to see where its going next and whose book its going to combine with.

List of things to do when you're cold

The Cold List

After two years of running frantically away from winter, the threat of an approaching cold-front has made me freak out just a little. Especially as, in this current weather which everyone is calling 'warm' I am freezing.

It's cold.

I am cold as soon as I wake up. The other side of the pillow holds no comfort for me this time of year. In fact. I curse it's existence. Whoever thought having a cooler side of the pillow would be a good idea?

I am cold as soon as I get out of the bed. Even when I put my dressing gown and slippers on. Not only do I feel like I'm an eighty year old woman, I am still cold.

As I eat breakfast I hunt for the small patches of sunlight which drift in the windows. If I find one I try to stake it as my territory but usually the psycho bitch cat hisses and snarls at me to move and I back down.

*Recoil! *

So.

I've come up with a list of things to do when you're cold.

These are both things I do and things I'd like to try. Please feel free to test them out and let me know how you fare? To assist, I've designed a 'cold scale'.

10. I am uncomfortably warm

9. Thanks! Great advice! I'm not cold anymore. In fact, I've forgotten what cold even feels like!

8. I am at a comfortable equilibrium

7. I am not cold

6. I am still slightly cold


5. my fingers and toes are uncomfortable but my torso is okay


4. I am shivering sightly


3. I am shivering violently


2. My lips have turned blue and I cannot feel my extremities.


1. I have frozen to death motherfucker. Thanks a lot.

THE LIST OF THINGS TO DO WHEN YOU'RE COLD:

1. Cuddle someone (9)
   
   
2. If someone is not around to cuddle, skype them and use the heat of the laptop to warm your stomach (8)
   
   
3. If no one wants to skype you until you laptop heats up to an unhealthy amount, wait behind a corner until someone passes by. Grab them from behind and tie them to you. Steal their body heat (Note: this requires some fore- planning. Rope, duct tape etc) (Also note: This technique is also known as 'nonconsentual cuddles' and should be approached with caution) (Although remember! No does not always mean no! ;) ) (9)
   
   
4. lie in a ball in a very visible and preferably narrow and congested space (a doorway to a house is a great option). Place your hands behind your knees and lock yourself in. Refuse to move until someone cuddles you. Extra points for jehovahs witnesses or the post man (4)
   
   
5. Make some soup (2)
   
   
6. eat some soup (10!)
   
   
7. Put some blankets around your body and make yourself into a human taco (8)
   
   
8. If you're too lazy to find the blankets, just have a hot shower until all the hot water is gone (9)
   
   
9. If you're too lazy to stand up, have a hot bath. (10)
   
   
10. If someone has already used up all the hot water, go into a freezing cold lake (wait for it) and sit there until you literally cannot feel a single follicle on your body, then head to a cold shower. Enjoy the scalding sensation. (10) (of course, if you don't time this just right it could easily be a 1)
    
    
11. Eat a chilli (10)
    
    
12. drink some tea (8)
    
    
13. hold your cat/dog hostage inside a blanket with you. Consider their ability/likelihood to claw/bite you before you dutch oven them. (5)
    
    
14. Touch hot plates for infinitesimally small amounts of time in multiple succession (7)
    
    
15. learn the 'single ladies' dance (well, any Beyonce music clip will do really) (10)
    
    
16. Seal together your pants, shirt, arm holes, socks etc with duct tape. Eat 3 cans of baked beans. Wait. (8)
    
    
17. Put in a load of washing. Hug the washing machine while it does its job. (Productive!!! YESSSS!) (6)
    
    
18. Put your cold hands on the backs of other peoples necks (6)
    
    
19. Hot water bottle it up! (8)
    
    
20. Buy a furnace and build it up until it is 'roaring'. Then sit by it. Preferably in some kind of period outfit and with some knitting or something handy. (9)

So thats my list.
Let us never be cold again

Crazy little thing...

I'm tired of pretending. I am tired of hiding my true inner nature. It's been leaking out a little more frequently these past few years, and so those who have only known me recently, like Stef Sullivan, might say that I don't even try to hide it at all.

But here it is.

I am a corn factory.

No. Not that kind of corn. Although I do love that kind of corn too.

But I mean corny-ness corn. The type of corn which makes most people want to shrivel up and cringe and be like, 'no...you did not just say that...'

The type of corn which may make some people uncomfortable with being my friend.

Its time to come out and admit that this is me:

I just have a lot of feelings

When I'm happy, I don't want to just be happy, I want to be GUSHING WITH HAPPINESS!! I want to grab peoples hands and spin them around, and look in their faces with a big looney tunes smile and just be like

'I'm sooooooooooooooo happy about this!!!!'

When I'm sad I want to be picturesquely sad. I want to wrap myself in a furry blanket and sit on the floor in front of a roaring furnace (note to self, buy furnace), with my hands around a mug of hot cocoa and weep salty tears in streaks down my face.

Does that make you want to vomit a little bit inside your mouth?

Too bad! I LOVE that!!

(note: if this makes you uncomfortable you may want to stop reading now. It just gets worse)

In fact.

I love love.

There. It's out there.

In the 20 years of existence when I have sought NOTHING but knowledge *cough, cough* I have come to the conclusion that being in love, loving people and being loved yourself are among the best and most important experiences you can have in this world. I also feel that todays society has made a mess of love. Love often gets confused with lust. Love is belittled by the enormous amounts of pop songs and stories which get factory pumped out all year round. Twilight killed love (I'm sorry 13 year old Elyse. But creepily watching someone sleep and a downright obsession with being with someone is not love).

Love needs its name cleared.

I am here today, to stick up for love.

Love is not restricted.

If you love someone, you just love them. Not even in a romantic sense. I'm sick of having to stop myself from saying that I love someone. You know what? I love...no... I LOVE my friends. Society has not constructed a word which doesn't make me bisexual in an extremely open relationship for how much I love my friends. Does that make sense? As in, society can't understand how someone can love both their male and female friends with such intensity that it doesn't become romantic.

SOCIETY IS WRONG.

Like Laura, the only teenager I have ever know who treated (and still treats) her parents the way they're meant to be treated. As friends, who have feelings and opinions, who have life lessons and wisdom, and who can be best friends. Bron, my oldest most fabulous friend. Everything about us is just perfect. I couldn't design someone I need more in my life. James. You are the epitome of the perfect human being. I can't even describe how much I admire you. Joel. You're the brother I never had. You've stuck up for me, got punched out for me, made a fool of me, laughed with me, helped me, I just...gahhhhh

I love you. I love you all. I love you so much.

To my sisters. Sara. We don't always get on. But we don't have to. I'd do anything for you and I still worship you in the way only a younger sister can worship her older one. Danielle. I don't know anyone funnier and more untouched by the world. You are sunshine and ice cream and the cool side of the pillow in summer.

Stef. I have never enjoyed the company of one person so much for so long. I laugh So. Much. When we're together. Alyse. You are so creative and determined and independent. I love to just watch you work and talk and decide. Oscar. I can't even think of words to describe you Oscar. You are everything you should be at this point of your life. Anthony. You, in all 7 billion whatever people in this world, are in the top ten of my favourite people. You just ARE. I can't even describe it. Shaun. Again, up there in my top ten favourite people. You enter a dark room and there is instantly light. Bill. You are so much happiness and fun inside one body. Its stupid. I am so excited to see you soon.

And my darling Jilly. I am excited to watch you grow up. I am so proud to be a part of your life. I just love talking to you!!!

GOD THERE ARE SO MANY MORE I CAN'T EVEN DESCRIBE. WHY CAN'T I STOP WRITING IN CAPS LOCK!!??!!??

Like my fantastic cousins. All of you!!! Chris and Nee and Tom and Matt and Dave and Ben and Alex and Nick. You're just all hilarious! So talented and sporty. I love every minute we spend together.

And the girls! I just adore you all! Rosie, who is doing the same course as me and makes me laugh every single day, Lucy who has defied everyone who ever called her weird and kept being on weird anyway. You. Are. So. Fabulous. Lizzy, who wants to adopt every single animal in the world. Katie and Bernie who are so talented! I JUST LOVE YOU GUYS.

And then my amazing overseas friends

Like Scott who doesn't realise how rare it is to meet a person who redefines who you want yourself to be in life. If I ever become something half decent, a solid 80% of that was inspired by you. Or Olivia. You're so passionate and emotional. Its such a beautiful thing. We both need to stop apologising for being like that. Its so beautiful and god given. Jennie, my fabulous roommate who broadened my horizons. You are so Jennie that I can't believe it. The beautiful Corinna. My god. If everyone could be a little less themselves and a little more Corinna then the world would be a much better place. Her partner in crime Carrie-anne. My god. If everyone was a little more like Carrie-anne and a little less themselves, this would be a much more terrifying world. You are crazy girl!Then there's my beautiful friend Katy. Finding her true strength in such a shitty time. And just...rising above it all in such an impressive form. Ric. You're so loveable, so stubborn, so easy to share banter with. Too easy to miss. I hate you for that. Trevor. All that I learned from you is invaluable and you've left a definable inprint in my itunes. Rachel. I wish we'd bonded even sooner than we did. We have so much in common. I can't wait to see you soon. You're such a free spirit.

I literally could go on, and on, and on, and on. And I haven't even started on my parents yet. Or my grandparents. Or my Aunts and Uncles. Or theatre people. Or netball people. Or camp people. Or HvZ people.

I just LOVE all of these people.

If I could put everyone together in a big house my life would be complete.

And of course, there's Jake. And I don't want to make this a big soppy love letter (because god know I send you enough of those) (its the drugs :P) but how that love sorted itself out into what this is, I'm not really sure. I'm learning so much from you but among a lot of things I'm learning how to be noble. And that is so exciting, and challenging and just....

uuugghh. I can't wait to see you.

Dear all. I'm not even going to apologise for this post. It is what it is: love.