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.