So, after moving out of home, seeing two different boys and one conference, I'm finally reconnected on my own computer so can blog occassionally. It's 12:19 pm. I've just finished work (where I am now maitre d on Tuesdays) and I cannot sleep. This is not unusual.
Honours is killing my soul. But the problem with losing someone who was once so close to you is that every essay you have to write on death is a million times harder, even when it is based on Ancient Greece.
I'm getting better. Sort of. I'm going to Auckland next weekend to visit some friends which will be nice, but it does mean I have to write 4000 words and reference 2 essays in the meantime.
I haven't had a Kate Moss moment in far too long. Friends quit the sex industry, friends move to suburbs with few late night buses and people start paying rent so can no longer afford to party like they used to.
However, I am going away for a weekend and plan to do lots of silly things which I wouldn't be able to do here. And I draw a boy pictures of Pokemon on paint and he seems to like them, which makes me happy. He gets more stressed that I do so it's fun. And I'm going to Greece in November. And although my boss is a massive douche bag I get paid a decent amount and get a decent amount of hours. Which is nice.
Life is actually quite good, for now.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Today is brought to you by the letters B and F
Happy International No Diet Day! I hope you enjoy gorging yourself on sweeties and enoying your body for how it is.
I was baking for 4 solid hours last night. All in preparation. We made:
Cupcakes
Gluten free cupcakes
Vegan cupcakes
Custard and berry filo rolls
Mini cheesecakes
Caramel slice
and at 3am, I freaked out and decided that I would buy jelly first thing this morning, just so we'd have enough food for the 56 people who RSVP'd yes on the facebook page but won't actually show up. Also, pretty much everything contains berries. Because you gotta lots the 2 for 1 specials on tinned fruit.
This fashion show will probably bomb. It's meant to be people wearing what they feel good in, but knowing the group they'll stand at the back while I look like a knob trying to make them participate.
I should have chosen an easier portfolio. Like activities. Fuck.
There's a journalist coming from a local paper, who interviewed me last night on the phone. I hope I don't sound like a douchebag - I said I wanted people to join Women's Group becasue it's fun, and non-threatening, unlike other feminist groups. I wish I were articulate.
So, Fuck.
That is all.
I was baking for 4 solid hours last night. All in preparation. We made:
Cupcakes
Gluten free cupcakes
Vegan cupcakes
Custard and berry filo rolls
Mini cheesecakes
Caramel slice
and at 3am, I freaked out and decided that I would buy jelly first thing this morning, just so we'd have enough food for the 56 people who RSVP'd yes on the facebook page but won't actually show up. Also, pretty much everything contains berries. Because you gotta lots the 2 for 1 specials on tinned fruit.
This fashion show will probably bomb. It's meant to be people wearing what they feel good in, but knowing the group they'll stand at the back while I look like a knob trying to make them participate.
I should have chosen an easier portfolio. Like activities. Fuck.
There's a journalist coming from a local paper, who interviewed me last night on the phone. I hope I don't sound like a douchebag - I said I wanted people to join Women's Group becasue it's fun, and non-threatening, unlike other feminist groups. I wish I were articulate.
So, Fuck.
That is all.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Apologies
So, I feel bad. I said I was going to post heaps of really wanky arty stuff over summer and never did coz I got lazy.
Ima go to Greece.
And I am currently talking to swoonboy for the first time in 3 months.
I am becoming a grown up by moving out of home and celebrating my 21st 15 days early next week. On the same day. I will be knackered, but on a tequila fueled rampage.
Is it smart for me to be living behind McDonalds? Doubt it, but tevs, it's cheap, bitches.
Also, honours makes me cry like weekly. Apparently this is how I know I'm doing it right.
And I'm getting sex on tap.
Now that we are reacquainted, dismally low amount of readers, I shall endeavour to procrastiblog more often
xxx
Ima go to Greece.
And I am currently talking to swoonboy for the first time in 3 months.
I am becoming a grown up by moving out of home and celebrating my 21st 15 days early next week. On the same day. I will be knackered, but on a tequila fueled rampage.
Is it smart for me to be living behind McDonalds? Doubt it, but tevs, it's cheap, bitches.
Also, honours makes me cry like weekly. Apparently this is how I know I'm doing it right.
And I'm getting sex on tap.
Now that we are reacquainted, dismally low amount of readers, I shall endeavour to procrastiblog more often
xxx
And the other one...
After teh waxing column, I was told to write about cervical smears. These things freak me the fuck out, which of course meant I HAD to write about them.
I’ll never forget my first time. My mother had been hounding me for two years to go. Finally, after a rant about how I could have cervical cancer and not know about it, I made an appointment with my doctor and dropped my pants. My first cervical smear was interesting, for lack of a better word. The results were all good.
I guess I was lucky. Smears are quite the taboo among women and can cause considerable stress for the uninitiated. A little rundown on the how to:
1. The best time is around 10 days after your period has finished. This is when you will get the clearest results, and trust me—you don’t want anything to skew these results.
2. You can request someone in the room for support, and if you have a male doctor you can request a female nurse in the room if you feel a little uncomfortable.
3. Make sure you’re clean. Don’t feel the need for vajazzling (Google it), but a bit of a wash between walking up the hill and dropping your drawers might be nice.
4. Some doctors warm the speculum. If they don’t, feel free to ask them to.
5. Cover your knees with the towel. For everyone’s sake. It’s right there on the bed. Please.
6. Don’t be afraid of the speculum. Or the scratchy feeling. You hear a few clicks then feel a little scraping on your cervix. This is normal, just relax and remember to breathe.
7. The doctor’s face should not be so close that you can feel their breath. Gross.
8. Some doctors make small talk about your cervix or how your day has been. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, tell them.
9. It’s suggested you get a smear after every sexual partner, along with an STI check. Your doctor is not allowed to be judgemental or condescending.
10. You should have a smear every three years.
It can be scary, and quite an intimate procedure. Unlike checking breasts for lumps, we cannot check the health of our cervix in the privacy of our homes. The whole procedure takes less than 15 minutes and there is nothing like the relief of opening the little envelope and knowing that your cervix is perfectly healthy.
I’ll never forget my first time. My mother had been hounding me for two years to go. Finally, after a rant about how I could have cervical cancer and not know about it, I made an appointment with my doctor and dropped my pants. My first cervical smear was interesting, for lack of a better word. The results were all good.
I guess I was lucky. Smears are quite the taboo among women and can cause considerable stress for the uninitiated. A little rundown on the how to:
1. The best time is around 10 days after your period has finished. This is when you will get the clearest results, and trust me—you don’t want anything to skew these results.
2. You can request someone in the room for support, and if you have a male doctor you can request a female nurse in the room if you feel a little uncomfortable.
3. Make sure you’re clean. Don’t feel the need for vajazzling (Google it), but a bit of a wash between walking up the hill and dropping your drawers might be nice.
4. Some doctors warm the speculum. If they don’t, feel free to ask them to.
5. Cover your knees with the towel. For everyone’s sake. It’s right there on the bed. Please.
6. Don’t be afraid of the speculum. Or the scratchy feeling. You hear a few clicks then feel a little scraping on your cervix. This is normal, just relax and remember to breathe.
7. The doctor’s face should not be so close that you can feel their breath. Gross.
8. Some doctors make small talk about your cervix or how your day has been. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, tell them.
9. It’s suggested you get a smear after every sexual partner, along with an STI check. Your doctor is not allowed to be judgemental or condescending.
10. You should have a smear every three years.
It can be scary, and quite an intimate procedure. Unlike checking breasts for lumps, we cannot check the health of our cervix in the privacy of our homes. The whole procedure takes less than 15 minutes and there is nothing like the relief of opening the little envelope and knowing that your cervix is perfectly healthy.
I am a literary genius
So because of my being Women's Rights Officer, I have to write shit for the student magazine. And it's a Women's column. And I'm gross. So I've become their default ooey-gooey girl and it's way fun. This was my first one:
Shave or wax? These seemingly simple options can cause quite a stir among the female community. Is shaving too harsh? What about the rash? Doesn’t it hurt getting wax ripped off? And don’t even get me started on the possibility of ingrown hairs. For the slower thinkers out there, I’m talking about vaginas. In particular, the hair on and surrounding, and how much is too much?
An article was published on Stuff.co.nz last Tuesday with the headline ‘Driver crashes while shaving bikini line’. She was driving to see her boyfriend (with her ex husband) and realised she was a little unkempt ‘down there’. Instead of, say, pulling over and having a shave, this lady decided to whip out a razor, hitch a leg up and get to business. Needless to say, she crashed.
Along the same vein, I heard of a girl who lived in Palmy (where it’s cheap to live and Brazilian waxes are affordable) who had it all ripped out religiously every 4 weeks. Alas, she moved to Wellington, where it’s expensive to live and as a student, waxes are but a luxury. Having been with her boyfriend for 3 years, it was assumed that nothing would change but *gaspshockhorror* he stopped eating puss. All because of a bit of muff.
Do most guys care? I took a small sample (my friends at Mount Street Bar) and general consensus seemed to be that as long as it is kept neat, there’s not a problem. As one friend put it, no one wants to feel like it is illegal because there’s no pubic hair. Hayden, our lovely bar manager, likes a tiny bit of a racing strip. Just so you know.
What about the girls? HELLZ YEAH. It would seem that we females place higher expectations on our own bush bonsai than males could ever fathom.
DISCLAIMER: This all seems very hetero-normative, and it is to some extent, but those sexually deviant (they know I’m joking… kinda) queers have the same opinion on their muff mound—neat so as not to be intrusive.
Just because my extensive research into the matter has come to the conclusion that neat pubic hair is good pubic hair, it doesn’t mean my opinion is gospel. Grow it out ladies or rip it all off, whatever makes you happy. But don’t do it for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you.
Shave or wax? These seemingly simple options can cause quite a stir among the female community. Is shaving too harsh? What about the rash? Doesn’t it hurt getting wax ripped off? And don’t even get me started on the possibility of ingrown hairs. For the slower thinkers out there, I’m talking about vaginas. In particular, the hair on and surrounding, and how much is too much?
An article was published on Stuff.co.nz last Tuesday with the headline ‘Driver crashes while shaving bikini line’. She was driving to see her boyfriend (with her ex husband) and realised she was a little unkempt ‘down there’. Instead of, say, pulling over and having a shave, this lady decided to whip out a razor, hitch a leg up and get to business. Needless to say, she crashed.
Along the same vein, I heard of a girl who lived in Palmy (where it’s cheap to live and Brazilian waxes are affordable) who had it all ripped out religiously every 4 weeks. Alas, she moved to Wellington, where it’s expensive to live and as a student, waxes are but a luxury. Having been with her boyfriend for 3 years, it was assumed that nothing would change but *gaspshockhorror* he stopped eating puss. All because of a bit of muff.
Do most guys care? I took a small sample (my friends at Mount Street Bar) and general consensus seemed to be that as long as it is kept neat, there’s not a problem. As one friend put it, no one wants to feel like it is illegal because there’s no pubic hair. Hayden, our lovely bar manager, likes a tiny bit of a racing strip. Just so you know.
What about the girls? HELLZ YEAH. It would seem that we females place higher expectations on our own bush bonsai than males could ever fathom.
DISCLAIMER: This all seems very hetero-normative, and it is to some extent, but those sexually deviant (they know I’m joking… kinda) queers have the same opinion on their muff mound—neat so as not to be intrusive.
Just because my extensive research into the matter has come to the conclusion that neat pubic hair is good pubic hair, it doesn’t mean my opinion is gospel. Grow it out ladies or rip it all off, whatever makes you happy. But don’t do it for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
life and such
So..
- Swoonboy is now safely and securely in the friend box (this time with added decision by me)
- I'm doing honours over 2 years so I don't go insane, and everyone agrees this is a great decision
- I'm only staying at my waitressing job because my holiday payout will be so amazing I'll cream myself
- AND I have to go away this weekend with next year's executive, and have a thing about poo. I can't poo anywhere but my house unless I'm really desperate. And especially not around people. Like, I don't like taking too long. It's not the smell. It's that I don't want people to think that I take AGES to poo. And I don't know the toilet. What if it has a really weak flush and I have to spend a year being the floater girl?
This is giving me more of an anxiety attack than christmas. Oh fuck.
- Swoonboy is now safely and securely in the friend box (this time with added decision by me)
- I'm doing honours over 2 years so I don't go insane, and everyone agrees this is a great decision
- I'm only staying at my waitressing job because my holiday payout will be so amazing I'll cream myself
- AND I have to go away this weekend with next year's executive, and have a thing about poo. I can't poo anywhere but my house unless I'm really desperate. And especially not around people. Like, I don't like taking too long. It's not the smell. It's that I don't want people to think that I take AGES to poo. And I don't know the toilet. What if it has a really weak flush and I have to spend a year being the floater girl?
This is giving me more of an anxiety attack than christmas. Oh fuck.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
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