Postsecret Post

Where I post Post-Secrets that have particularly resonated with me. 

Once I was in a magazine.

Women's Health And Fitness
July 2012

THROWBACK: Why America is just as deadly as Australia.

I recently spent a year living in Florida and these are some real life questions I was asked by United States citizens during my time there:

“What does it feel like to come to a country where people wear shoes?”

“Were you amazed when you came here and saw electricity for the first time?”

“Why are you at war with New Zealand? You guys should stop bombing them, that’s so mean, they are a peaceful country.”

“OH MY GOD! HOW AREN'T YOU DEAD!? YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY BE DEAD BY NOW! AUSTRALIA IS SO DANGEROUS! WHY HASN’T A SNAKE/SPIDER/DROP BEAR/CROCODILE KILLED YOU YET!? IT’S A MIRACLE THAT YOU HAVE LIVED TO SEE YOUR TWENTIES! AUSTRALIA IS SOOOOOO DANGEROUS!”

The thing that the USA fails to realise is that they have JUST as many deadly animals as we do, maybe even more, they just aren't as cute. Let’s compare:

The main animal that they seemed to freak out so much about was crocodiles, and yet I was in Florida, where their football team is called the GATORS, because Florida has a lot of ALLIGATORS. Now I realise that crocodiles are generally considered more dangerous than alligators, but let’s be honest with ourselves, they are basically the same thing, and at least crocodiles don’t chill on the sides of the roads in major cities like alligators do in Florida.

Snakes and spiders were another one that got mentioned a lot, and I cannot deny that we have many many species of deadly snakes and spiders, but let’s think about this for a minute. The average human being is several times larger than any snake or spider that exists in Australia, however... America has bears.

Sharks are also a major concern to the average American tourist, yet you are 50 trillion times more likely to freeze to death in a blizzard or suffocate under a collapsed snowman in America than you are to be attacked by a shark in Australia*.

When we view the facts in a logical format such as this, it becomes obvious that when it comes to the country you are most likely to die a horrible painful death in, I think we’re pretty well tied.

So we’re all fucked and our best bet is probably to move to New Zealand, where there are no deadly animals, and all you have to worry about it the odd air raid by Australia.


*All blog statistics provided by the wonderful people at ’Convenient Statistics For You Weekly’.

TUTORIAL: How to pose like a fuckin’ FIERCE MOFO!

So I got the photos back from the photo shoot which resulted in the Makeup In Reverse video, and I thought I would use them for a very important and serious tutorial.

I have watched every single season of America’s Next Top Model, so even though the freakin’ Dolly Model Search Comp told me I was too short EVERY YEAR I still consider myself to be a modelling expert.

Okay, admittedly I stopped growing when I was about 14 so I should have probably given up my modelling dream then and there, but I just can’t let it go. I still practice my poses every day in front of the mirror. I’m an expert at Smizing (smiling with your eyes) Booty Tooching (sticking out your butt) and being generally FIERCE GIRLFRIEND!

Given my extensive knowledge of the modelling industry with my 3 photo shoots and extensive Foxtel viewing under my belt, I’ve decided to put together this easy tutorial on posing. After reading this post you too can look fierce wherever you are, be it at a shoot, at a party or just hanging around and home taking selfies.

You’re welcome!

Fuckin’ Sexy Pose

This pose is easy enough. Just make it look like you are undressing or you wear something see through. In this case I went for both options. SEXY AS A MOFO!

Fuckin’ Angry Pose

Imagine the photographer is your ex boyfriend.

Fuckin’ Happy Pose

Keep imagining the photographer as your ex boyfriend, then imagine kicking him in the nuts.

Fuckin’ Innocent Pose

Play with your hair and wear a cute accessory like a hat or a necklace; act like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.

Fuckin’ Broken Down Doll Pose

Just let your body go limp, like you’ve had 6 or 7 too many gin and tonics.

Fuckin’ Net Over Your Face Pose

Put a net over your face. You will instantly look mysterious and sensual.

I hope you've enjoyed this tutorial which was really just a gratuitous way for me to say LOOK AT ME WHEN I HAVE PROFESSIONAL HAIR AND MAKE-UP DONE! HEY EVERYONE LOOK!

KEEP LOOKING...

Wait... where are you going? 

This just happened to me.

That moment when you pull your clothes our of the washing machine and realise you accidentally put your black jeans in with your favourite tops and delicates.

The way you react when you realise absolutely nothing is ruined.

THROWBACK: Why I only bath once a year.

I have a zillion blogs. Actually, a flobbity-jillion. They are all focused around different topics. This blog is my attempt at blog monogamy  I am settling down. I am now a one blog women. That said there are a few posts on other blogs that I want to keep before I shut them all down, so occasionally I will throwback to the good old days when I was a blogger whore, and transfer some posts over here.

This is one of those posts.

Why I only bath once a year.

Once a year, usually always on Valentines Day, I decide to take a bath.

It always seems like the world’s greatest idea. I go out and buy bubble bath, I pick out a really good book I can’t wait to read. I lay out the biggest, fluffiest towels that I can find, and set the CD player up in a place I will be able to hear it from the bathroom. I get excited about it all day, imagining the amazing relaxing time I
will have in my warm, bubbly bath.

Then the time comes, usually around 8pm that night, because 8pm seems like the best time to take baths, I start to prepare. I fill the tub with hot water, add the bubbles, turn on some music that will make me feel better about being single and taking a bubble bath ALONE on Valentines Night, something like Alanis Morissette or Insane Clown Posse, nice and relaxing. I slop on a face mask making me vaguely resemble Princess Fiona from Shrek... you know, AFTER she decides it’s worth being ugly for love.

Then the time comes to get in! I’m so excited, I cannot wait to start relaxing. My bath looks so appealing, the mirrors in the bathroom are already steaming up because of how hot the water is. I get in. Kind of. It’s not actually that simple, because I always run baths so hot that it takes me awhile to slowly ease myself in, and all the while I'm making noises similar to what I assume a woman giving birth makes. First getting my feet used to the temperature, then my calves, then my butt, then my stomach, finally I lay down and emerge the rest of my body, close my eyes, and begin to praise myself for thinking of such a great way to spend my night.

After a minute or two of lying there with my eyes closed I start to get bored. Luckily I prepared for this, that’s why I picked out the book. Unfortunately I always realise way too late that I shouldn't have gotten my hands wet, and I have always left the towels too far away for me to reach from my sitting position inside the tub, so I end up laying there with my hands sticking out of the water until they drip dry, feeling really stupid and being thankful that there is nobody around to see it. Finally my hands dry, I crack open my book, and start to read.

Between pages I think about how I should really make baths a weekly thing, perhaps Sunday nights will become my bath nights, I’ll start a collection of excellent smelling bath products and decadent accessories such as bath pillows and eye masks. It’s the best idea I’ve ever had so far in my life.

Then a big green glob falls into the bath, splashing sudsy water into my eyes and onto my page, and I realise I am melting. The steam is causing my face mask to sweat off instead of drying into a hard concrete like substance I would usually need a hammer and chisel to get off. Suddenly I realise how hot it is and instead of feeling cleaner, I feel sweaty. I am actually SWEATING underwater, and it’s gross. Then I start to think about how I am bathing in my own sweat, and by now all the dirt that was on my body is in the water, swirling around me, and I’m feeling hot and sweaty and unclean.

This is the point where I reach out with my foot and try to lower the temperature by turning on the cold tap with my toes, when my skin comes into contact with the metal of the faucet which is still approximately 15 thousand degrees from previously having boiling hot water pouring out of it. If anyone happened to be listening on the other side of the door they might think they have accidentally walked into Ozzy Osbourne’s house, on a night when he’s having a domestic with Sharron.

So I let the cold water pour out for awhile, but then it gets too cold, so I run the hot some more, then the cold, then the hot, and eventually the tub it threatening to overflow onto the bathroom floor, so I fish around with my feet and pull out the plug to empty some water out, but as anyone who has ever had a bath knows, while it’s easy to remove a plug with your feet, it’s almost impossible to put it back in the same way, and anyone who knows me will know that I am WAY too lazy to sit up and put it back in with my hands. So I just lay there staring at the ceiling in despair as the water disappears down the plughole, making a noise similar to what I imagine Satan would probably sound like if he stubbed his toe... or burned his leg on a super hot faucet.

I actually honestly believe the sound of the bath draining is the worst noise in the world. Worse than babies crying on a plane, nails on a chalkboard or Alanis Morissette singing.

Finally I just give up, I get out looking pinkish and pruney like a chicken before it’s been roasted. I get dressed into my pajamas, brush my hair and teeth, and crawl into bed, feeling a bit of an anti-climax, vowing to never waste my time with a bath again (at least until next year when I have forgotten about this whole ordeal) but consoling myself with the fact that at least I found a way to pass the time on the worst night of all nights.

Then I look at the clock and realize it’s only 8:30PM.

And that’s why I only bath once a year.

5 things you should never say to anyone, ever.

Has anyone else noticed the sudden trend of articles popping up recently?

7 things you should never say to someone with cancer.
Top 20 things you should never say to a new mum.
FOR CHRIST'S SAKE NEVER SAY THESE 12 THINGS TO A SINGLE PERSON OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF GOD!

Okay that last title was made up, but you get my drift.

I think the thing that grinds my gears about these articles is that all the things listed are generally kind and supportive comments. Sure, maybe they are a little cliché, but well-meaning all the same. I recently read one that said you should never ask someone who is ill what you can do to help them.

What? Why!? Isn’t that just being friendly? Isn’t it being a good friend?

It went on to say that this question is boring and that the ill person has probably been asked the same thing by everyone they know. Well excuse me for not being able to think of an original way to offer my help to sick friends and family members. Next time I’ll send them a card by carrier pigeon that simply says ‘What can I do you for, biatch?’

I sat there for awhile after reading this particular ‘Things You Should Never Say’ article, and I was confused. Have I been doing it wrong? Can it be true that nice, well meaning things said out of kindness or to make conversation are actually rude? How did I miss this memo? With this in mind I started wondering how my own day to day comments and questions to those around me are taken. Am I accidentally causing offense to everyone I come across in a misguided attempt to be friendly?

With that in mind I analysed my small talk strategies and created a list of 5 things you should never say to anyone, ever. Now you can always avoid unintentionally insulting people with you attempts at being polite. You’re welcome.

5 – You look really cute today!
Why you shouldn’t say it: Telling someone they look cute TODAY suggests that they didn’t look cute yesterday or the day before. In fact, it implies they never usually look cute ever.

4 – Is that a new shirt/necklace/pair of shoes etc?
Why you shouldn’t say it: Asking people if they are wearing a new item just runs the risk of embarrassing yourself and the other party. There is nothing worse than mistaking something for new when in fact it is an old item or ‘pre-loved’ as it’s now often referred to. If you get it wrong not only are you admitting you don’t take enough notice of the clothes of those around you, you are also suggesting the other person is a cheapskate who doesn’t update their wardrobe in a timely manner. Steer clear of this one!

3 – Isn’t the weather great today!?
Why you shouldn’t say it: They say you should never discuss politics or religion. The same goes for the weather. Weather preference is a deeply personal thing. Just because you enjoy warm weather doesn’t mean the person you are conversing with does. You open yourself up to a debate about which kind of weather is superior and things could get heated (and not from the sun). Avoid this topic at all costs.

2 – Do you have the time?
Why you shouldn’t say it: In this day and age not everyone is fortunate enough to have the time. You clearly don’t or you wouldn’t be asking. You should be sympathising with people who may be in the same boat as you, not rubbing it in their face.

1 – Have a great weekend!
Why you shouldn’t say it: It’s a terrible reminder of the long stretch of hours ahead without you. This can be especially upsetting to work colleagues who live for the days they get to wake up and come to work to see your face. A weekend can be a terrifying time for those who rely on a 9-5 routine to cement their sense of self worth.

Actually on second thoughts maybe it’s just best to not say anything to anyone. At least then you definitely can’t offend them. Unless they are offended by mutes, and if that’s the case then they are discriminatory assholes so who cares?

Surviving NOT Being A Child Prodigy

A couple of months ago I got my first ever article published! Okay it was on an online magazine and I didn't get paid anything, but in my mind it still counts. You can find the original article HERE or you can read it below.



Surviving NOT Being A Child Prodigy

There are lots of books and articles out there that are hugely inspiring. I know because I’ve read most of them. Lots of these writings involve a person going through a hardship or challenge and end up finally understanding the meaning of their life – or at least how to live it as fully as possible. They learn lessons and ultimately manage to pen it in a way that makes us laugh, cry, and for five whole minutes, think about our lives and how we are living them.

I am not one of those people, and this is not one of those articles.

I first realised I was mediocre and possessed little talent when I decided to write a book and found myself googling ‘I want an idea for a book’.

I’m not attempting to be particularly self-deprecating. I am just one of those people who was never a prodigy in any field - who never had a talent. I coul
dn’t catch a ball, draw a picture or play an instrument well. I was bad at math and science. I didn’t spend my weekends perfecting one activity. I never even particularly enjoyed any of the extra-curricular activities I did do. I’ve dabbled in dance, ice-skating, roller hockey, softball, netball, painting, drawing, woodwork, knitting, pottery, religion, rock climbing, yoga, photography, piano, viola, saxophone, personal training, life coaching… I could go on, but the list is endless.

On top of the pain of being talentless, I have also never had anything very interesting happen to me. I’ve never had a real tragedy or been so desperately poor I’ve had to live off baked beans or in a cardboard box. I’ve never had an abusive boyfriend or seen someone die. I have not had a serious illness or disease. I didn’t even get very bad acne as a teenager. I know, I was ripped off.

Okay, okay, before you get up in arms, that last paragraph was in jest. I do feel extremely fortunate that I have not had to suffer these things the way many people have. In the same breath, I have also felt extremely envious of people who have had experiences that led them to successful, fulfilling lives while I was still sitting in front of my computer in my pyjamas, laughing at cat videos on YouTube.

The problem with living my life that way was I honestly just didn’t know what else I should be doing. I was extremely conscious of the fact that it was a waste of a perfectly valid life and was hungry for something more meaningful to do, but at the same time I had absolutely no clue what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I knew that I was expected to pick a field, work really hard for a lot of years, earn some money and then retire, but what was it I was supposed to pick? I couldn’t help but feel that a talent or a problem would help me out of this pickle, but alas, I was stuck trying to find a calling with no guidance. The Universe refused to help.

In a world where everything we read, watch and hear tells us that success is simply easier with God-given talent, how does the Average Joe (or Jane) manage to discover the purpose of their life?

Why is it we feel such pressure to find ONE thing and stick to it? Why is it we feel the need to do it so young, and if we aren’t multimillionaires by age 25, we think we’ve missed the boat? In a generation where on average we change jobs every 5 years, what’s the obsession with finding THE ONE - Career, that is. Why are we encouraged to spend 4+ years at university studying one, sometimes two fields, when in all likelihood we won’t be doing anything even slightly related by the time we retire? Our careers will bend and change and we will find different things that interest us and we will try things we ultimately end up hating, but is that actually a problem?

Do we prodigy-less children need to panic, or is it actually a blessing in disguise? Are we the chosen ones? While those with natural ability at music or sport practice their talent daily, we are free to explore all fields with no pressure. No niggling thought in the back of our brains that we SHOULD be perfecting the skill we were born with.

In my short working life I have worked abroad as a glorified carnie, sold my possessions online for food money, started my own company, done online courses totally unrelated to my university degree, and found some semblance of happiness and joy in my totally messy and unstructured working life.

Yes the niggling voice that I should pick ONE thing and stick with it forever is still there, but I’m getting much better at shutting it up. This guilt we feel about not living our lives the way our parents and grandparents did is very real, but it is also on par with feeling guilty about buying a song on iTunes when they still produce records. It’s ridiculous, it’s out-dated, and while it is a nice concept it is rarely practical.

So I encourage you, all my non child prodigies, to be proud of your ability to switch and change without a care in the world. Enjoy yourself. You may end up stumbling across your one true love, or you may not. That’s okay too. At the end of the day, as long as you had a good time doing it, you will be able to look back on your life with as much pleasure and as many inspiring stories as our talented counterparts.

Removing Make-Up IN REVERSE (like a boss)

Today I had a photo shoot where I got some pretty funky make up. Naturally, I decided that if I couldn't go out and enjoy my makeover (because all my friends are boring and/or have lives that don't revolve around me) I would film myself taking it all off, then reverse it.

The photos turned out pretty awesome and I will post a few when I have my hands on them.

Until then enjoy watching me take off my make-up backwards.

Hair and makeup by LOVE HAWKRIDGE


Products used in video:
Nutrimetics HYDRAFINITY REVITALISING TONING MIST [with Orange Flower extract]
Nutrimetics HYDRAFINITY SKIN HYDRATOR [with Vitamin C]
Derma Intensive+ 3 IN 1 FACIAL WIPES [fragrance free]


Song: Fatty Gets A Stylist - Fatty Gets A Stylist (this is not the original version, I sped it up)

It's Friday I'm in love.

The weekend has started. Tell someone you love them. 

A day at the beach with the boys.

A few Sundays ago I got extremely bored with the tedium of my weekends and so I begged and pleaded for the beach because it was FINALLY a nice day in Melbourne. 

Okay I didn't really NEED to beg or plead because Boyfriend likes the beach and Dexter (the dog) didn't have a choice, because he's a dog. 

Still, it was lovely. We followed up our wander around Williamstown with an iced coffee. Dexter got attention from every other dog and human that we came across. I guess a domesticated pure-bread greyhound is still somewhat of a rarity. He lapped it up. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon laying on a blanket in the sun in my backyard eating sandwiches and drinking cider (Boyfriend) and a rainbow of Cruisers (me). 

We also listened to this song from my crappy iphone speakers about 70 times. 

It was perfect.