Growing-Old Pains

Last week I hurt my back while putting on pants. They weren’t complicated pants (whatever that means) and it wasn’t just a ‘ouch that hurt a little bit’ pain. It was a ‘looks like I’m stuck in bed requiring assistance when I need to go to the toilet’ kind of pain.
It fucking hurt.

I read an entire book (that wasn’t written by J.K Rowling) in less than a day, I used a heat pack in the middle of spring and ate all the Panadol in the house (okay, not all of it. I buy it in bulk because it’s cheaper…but I ate some of it. Down the hatch just like candy).
I lay there and wondered if this was just how I was now; I was absolutely pathetic.
I think I could have handled it if I’d hurt myself doing something cool like jumping off a building or doing a cartwheel. Heck, I would have been alright with it if I’d at least done something to trigger it at all, but I was just a regular twenty-eight-year-old lady putting on some pants on a Sunday morning – after having spent two hours procrastinating about going to the gym.

Perhaps the injury was subconscious; maybe that’s how little I wanted to go to the gym. Though, maybe I’m just getting old.

 

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As a point of reference, here is me as a teenager. I believe that I made growing pains look inappropriately sexy. Enjoy?

When I was a teenager I had awful growing pains, I guess I’ve come full circle and now I’ve gone and got myself some aging pains.

It wasn’t so long ago that I was thinking about all the injuries that my mum has had over the years and I was thinking to myself how she must have been cursed and how I was the blessed one. I think I may have cursed myself by doing that.

Eight long hours (give or take, I suppose) I lay flat on my back while the sun shone outside. All I could do was whinge in the general direction of my boyfriend.

To his credit he was an absolute legend, making me a tasty sandwich and offering to source something a little stronger to numb my pain (which I politely declined in order to preserve both of our integrities, though I suppose he surrendered his long ago). He even offered to wipe my butt, should I have any troubles with that while taking myself to the loo, which sounds like true love but felt like a potentially relationship ending move.
I politely declined that offer too.
Finally, he offered to order me an Uber, should I require urgent medical assistance. Now THAT is the definition of true love.

I dosed up, went to bed and woke up mildly better. I shuffled to the bulk billing doctor in the morning and was prescribed anti-inflammatory meds, glad to be told that it “probably wasn’t cancer” – always my first conclusion after viewing WebMD.

A week later and I’ve been told to go see; a chiropractor, a myotherapist and an osteopath by caring friends and family who have seen me wince in pain.

Predictably I have taken up none of their advice.

I did, however, go to an optometrist and ordered myself some funky new glasses because glasses make you look smart.

I also went to a Body Balance class and did most of the poses so I guess there’s hope for me yet, though I’m not ashamed to admit that the part I enjoyed the most was the relaxation at the end and the bit where the instructor told us that we were all beautiful strong and superior human beings for making it to the gym on a Sunday morning (a vague interpretation of her words).

WriteMore Short Story Submission

A little while ago I entered a short story in the ‘WriteMore’ writing competition in the Moreland council. I didn’t win anything (but I got a snazzy certificate and a went to a fun writers talk) but I thought I would share what I wrote so that someone gets to read it.

The story had to be 500 words or less, clearly set in the Moreland City Council area and be ‘funny’ or ‘inspirational’ – the theme was ‘What I love about Moreland’ …so here’s what I put together…!!!

*****

I didn’t intend for this behaviour to turn into a weekly ritual however it seems that I’ve created a little Saturday morning tradition for myself.
You’d think that I might be happier if my early mornings were spent in a more traditionally productive manner; a jog through tree lined streets or a bountiful visit to a farmer’s market, but secretly I adore this little routine that I have gotten myself into.
I don’t need to set myself an alarm, which is weird because I’ve never been much of a morning person. As if it were magic, from the day I moved in to my pokey little apartment on Champ Street I’ve been up with the birds – although I’m usually woken by the less natural sound of a shrieking siren. This gives me a chance to grab a moment on the balcony to experience vivid pink and orange hues above a majestic suburban castle fit for royalty, forgetting for a moment the far more sinister reality of the architecture – too pretty to be a notorious prison I think…
On a Saturday morning though, I can’t linger too long because I have important business which I must attend to.

Showered and ready to go I jump on my bike and the mist of my own warm breath clouds my vision as I huff and puff my way down Sydney road on this icy yet sunny winter morning.

No more than ten minutes riding and I arrive at my destination, lock my bike up, take a quick (but subtle) look to make sure that there’s no one I know around – tick – and I’m ready to take some time to indulge.
You see, I make sure I get this little treat is over and done with nice and early – less chance of being caught and more opportunity to truly enjoy this embarrassingly guilty pleasure. It was when I first caught a tram down this part of Sydney road that I knew I had truly found my happy place…never before in my life had I seen more white lace and tulle in the one suburb. It was like I’d died and gone to wedding heaven – the fantasies of this single twenty-something were neatly housed behind glass windows. Intricate details and delicate beading that every time I take a moment to look at makes my heart beat a little faster.
I’m working up the nerve to go through the front door someday – but I don’t know if I could come up with a fake love story good enough to convince one of the shop assistants to let me shimmy into one of those breathtaking gowns.

Good thing there’s no shortage of handsome baristas around the place, typically wearing their hearts on their sleeves – ready to be subtly manipulated (read: trapped) into the kind of situation that would facilitate the occasion to purchase one of these gowns. Sigh. Maybe my obsession is why I’m still single? No, I just don’t think I’ve found the right café yet.

 

Adelaide Fringe 2018 – The Best By Far

I sit at home on my couch in Melbourne writing a reflection of my shortest yet most absolutely brilliant Adelaide Fringe festival so far.

It’s the last weekend of Fringe, my boyfriend has jumped on a plane to head over for the final weekend party and I’m here with beer, my laptop and party tunes playing from the TV (which has made me realise that Mandy Moore’s ‘Candy’ really didn’t get the credit it deserved- or maybe that beer is stronger than I thought…)
I’m a bit sad – it’s the first time I’m missing the closing weekend party since I was 17 and I don’t know if I’ll survive without getting loose on the dance floor while everyone sings along to Toto’s Africa and the DJ pauses the chorus and it’s just people screaming I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICA into the Adelaide parklands (happens every year, you can’t deny  crowd of overtired artists what they really want)… but I had to come back to reality – it would have been far too easy to stay existing in the beautiful yet exhausting world that was this years amazingly wonderful festival!

Despite the fact that I was only in Adelaide for half of the festival, and the fact that I saw far fewer shows than I have in recent years, it was still my favourite. Without a doubt.

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I mean for starters, we got a bloody half page in the BLOODY ‘Tiser. The height of Adelaidian Journalistic Integrity. Bless their attempt to write a news headline…

 

I’ve been performing in some form or another for the past five years and I’ve been seeing shows since I was a kid – really getting into the flow of things when I hit year 12 at school but this year was different because I got perform a show which I co-wrote with my wonderful friend Mikayla Lynch and people really loved it! That’s not to say that I haven’t been in shows people have loved before (if people hadn’t liked the other stuff I probably wouldn’t have kept doing shows…) but for some reason I was more worried about this one. For starters I was writing for two characters – I’d written stand up as myself and performed improv as a character but I’d never really, in a setting where pride and money was on the line, written for one!
I was working with some who I hadn’t worked with before and even worse, we were located in different states meaning that collaboration sessions had to occur via Skype with work flow being managed via online programs (I bloody LOVE Trello!).
Our venue fell through at the last minute.
I didn’t know if I could pull this off (I had faith in Mikayla but I was more worried that I’d make her look bad…)

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We got to perform in Rundle Mall and even children liked it (I had to not say ‘bloody’) and Mi kicked me in the boob and it was a beautiful bin fire and I loved it. 

 

But I really wanted to do it! The original and very vague idea for the show was born out of a real bad time – cold wintery Melbourne in which I was having a pretty awful time mentally. Work sucked hardcore and I was still figuring out how to make new friends in a new city (making friends is hard as an adult!) but I was heading to my favourite No Lights No Lycra regularly to keep my spirits up. It was dancing around like an absolute twat that I had the first idea – and Mikaya’s name popped into my mind – and from there, I messaged here and things…just…rolled.

Oh and the venue falling through? The AMAZING Raj House team stepped us and gave us a home at the last minute!

Flash forward to February and we’d sold tickets…we had reviewers coming…we had 10 shows booked in plus spots at variety nights and we were shitting ourselves – would people ‘get’ these two weird characters we had written? Would they get the jokes? Would they think we were being serious…was it obvious enough? Would our bits fall out of our costumes?

But it worked. It. Just. Worked.

Probably because we worked our assess off to make sure that it did.

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On the last night our Tech Joel wore a gold leotard. He did not take much convincing. 

And I saw some amazing shows. And I danced with amazing people and I drank too much beer (and some champagne that came in a can…which was…a thing that happened)

So read this please and make me feel less sad about missing the last weekend of Fringe – because I’m just bloody thankful I got to be apart of it and have a bloody AMAZING time (and maybe…keep an eye out for Cheryl and Chardee at a festival or on a computer screen near you…cough…cough).

P.S have a read of some of our sikkkkk reviews (including an beautiful **** review below)

Weekend Notes

All Over Adelaide

The BLOODY Advertiser 

Stage Whispers 

How To Survive The Adelaide Fringe

This little article, originally published here; https://adelady.com.au/how-to-survive-the-adelaide-fringe/ was a piece written in the character of Chardee (played by moi!), along with her buddy Cheryl (the wonderful Mikayla Lynch) who recently performed at the Adelaide Fringe Festival.

Fringe has arrived and just like Christmas (but without your weird auntie Sharon getting drunk and taking her teeth out) it’s exciting, confronting, and sometimes a little bit overwhelming.
Without a doubt it’s the best time to be in Adelaide; the weather’s great, all your mates are out and there a million and one things to do but it’s always good to grab a little advice – so we got in touch with a couple of ladies who know exactly how to help out. Performing their sassy show, Get Sweatyin the exciting new Rajopolis hub at Raj House, Cheryl and Chardee (alter egos of Adelaide girls Mikayla Lynch and Alicia Norton) are two semi-professional aerobics instructors who are to Fringe what Dolly Doctor was to your teenage woes. We’ve got the questions (that you’re too afraid to ask) and they’ve got the guide…on how to make it through Fringe and come out the other side with your sanity and dignity (mostly) intact.

Dress for comfort (but also for fashion)

Chardee: I’ve got thighs that do a little bit more than just kiss and combined with the brutal February heat, well all of a sudden it’s like a water slide down there and not in a good way. It’s difficult to get a park in the city and if walking is on the agenda things get a bit…ouchie. My Fringe fashion advice is to always add a sneaky pair of bike shorties under your cute summer dress – because you never know when the dreaded chafe could hit.

Cheryl: Be bold, fringe is the perfect time to pull out that sequined cat-suit you own, take that baby out and rock it. I mean what’s holding you back?

Pace yourself

Chardee: Just like a good love making session, Fringe is a marathon, not a sprint. You’ve got a whole month (and a touch) to survive, so don’t try and pack it all into one weekend – enjoy the entire ride!

Cheryl: Take a bloody risk! See that show that caught your eye, worst case it will make for a good story.

Networking is not a dirty word

Chardee: You never know who might offer to buy you a drink at the Fringe bar later that night – be nice to everyone because they could be keeping you hydrated / providing you with dancing juice later in the night!

Cheryl: Fringe is the perfect time to make international lifelong friends. Also, a great time to be single, if you know what I mean!

Plan…but not too much

Chardee: make a list of shows you REALLY want to see (cough) *ours* (cough) and pre-purchase your tickets to them – you do not want to miss out when everyone else finds out how great we are…but you also need to leave room for those cheeky surprises….

Cheryl: I’m a big planner, but fringe is the one time where you have to loosen that grip on the diary. Don’t forget to pick your kids up from school, but be open to new experiences.

Just say yes!

Chardee: Your mum would probably tell you otherwise but this is that one time of the year when you can follow a guy dressed as a pirate down a dark alley way and it will probably end well…probably.

Cheryl: What have you got to lose?

…but sometimes say no…

Chardee: I promise that you can’t go out and get Fringe-y every night. We’re trained professionals, at the peak of our profession (well okay, we’re semi-professional and we get puffed out pretty easily) and even we need a break sometimes.

It’s okay to say no, the Winter Olympics is on the telly and some of those athletes are pretty easy on the eye…plus you can’t sit on the couch without pants and a bra in The Garden of Unearthly delights…and sometimes we all just need some bra-free time.

Cheryl: pace yourself babe, no one wants to be the person that misses the party because they hit the pre-drinks too hard. It’s the same with Fringe. Manage that energy. Keep yourself safe.

Food is more than just midnight fries

Chardee: it’s easy to forget about vegetables that aren’t fast, fried and made of potato…make some time, room and effort and get an apple in your chops. It’ll boost your immune system, keep you regular and help you look as hot in leotards as Cheryl and I do.

Cheryl: Look, I take impeccable care of my machine, but it’s a temptation to eat burritos every night. Pre-make some meals, pop em in the fridge. Take care of yourself.

Sleep before you’re dead

Chardee: If there’s one question that people always ask me without a doubt its “Chardee, how do you stay so hot?” and while it’s not really a simple answer, I need to make people satisfied so I tell them that sleep is just so bloody important – and it’s not a straight up lie. You’ll need to make sure you get some solid sleep to make it through Fringe alive!

Cheryl: I am big fan of a nap, you can make time to close those peepers.

Dance like everybody is watching

Chardee: No matter how ridiculously you dance, there’s always going to be someone at Fringe going harder and crazier who’s far less inhibited – so let you’re freak flag fly and combine exercise with fun on the d-floor and if you’re stuck for moves then grab a ticket to our show!

Cheryl: Here’s the thing, YOU CAN DANCE. Even if your repertoire is Kate Bush moves, rock those. I am all about a good boogie and if you are too come join us!

27 Thoughts I’ve Had Since Turning 27…

It’s been almost a month since I turned 27, an incredibly freezing cold and unremarkable one. Sure I’ve cried at work (standard) and sipped red wine from a bottle mid week (like a thirsty baby whose parents should really be punished) but otherwise life has been a little uneventful. This has allowed my mind plenty of time to wander and I truly hoped to have written at least 4,000 more words on a sneaky little novel that I may or may not be working on…instead I’ve just done this – a list of 27 thoughts that have squeezed into my mind since celebrating the date of my birth.
Don’t hate me because you ain’t me? Yeah just pity me because you’re probably doing better than me…

  • This feels just like 26
  • Surprisingly hangovers hurt less. Or I drink less…drinking is expensive.
  • (While having a sneaky perv at a bunch of boys doing some footy training) damn, that is some tasty talent out there…oh wait…I think I used to baby sit that one. Shit.
  • I thought I’d be more impressed by myself by now. I have gotten very good at playing ‘adult’ though. Fooled them all.
  • I thought I’d feel wiser…more worldly…over night
  • My mum had a school aged child when she was my age…me!
  • Is it normal that I felt slightly aroused when my boyfriend announced that he had already completed his tax return? And it’s only August?
  • This cake is nice and all but do you think I’d lose my job if I demanded an acapella group performing Up Town Girl for next years birthday?
  • If I go crazy then will you still call me super man?
  • If I’m alive and well will you be there holding my hand?
  • What ever did happened to that band 3 Doors Down?
  • How Bootylicious is too Bootylicious?
  • I wonder how much snot I have produced in my life so far. Like if I wanted to put it all in a jar, how big would that jar have to be?
  • Why didn’t the guy in the TLC Waterfalls video just use a condom? It was the 90s, he should have known better.I guess if he had worn a condom TLC wouldn’t have written Waterfalls and that would have been a shame.
  • I should probably start listening to music from this decade
  • I think in the form of questions a lot…does that make me a philosopher? Or do they have to be intelligent questions for that to be a thing?
  • I haven’t done anything good enough to make me eligible to join the 27 club which is kind of a bummer…but at least I won’t die this year. Probably. It doesn’t actually work like that, does it?
  • Maybe if I stopped wasting my time on writing stuff like this then I could actually do something good…maybe
  • Why does it seem that they always play the same episodes of Sex and the City and Law and Order SVU on TV? Or do I just tune in whenever those episodes happen to be playing? Is someone playing a big TV joke on me? Why would I be important enough for someone to do that?
  • Am I being neurotic?
  • What even is neurotic?
  • Oh I just looked it up. Yep. I am actually super neurotic. I got nervous going to the swimming pool the other day because I was worried that there was a heap of swimming pool etiquette I didn’t know and I would make a dick of myself. It took me three hours to talk myself into going to the pool and guess what? I had a lovely time. Except my hair kept smelling like chlorine for days…even after I washed it. I wonder if people noticed…
  • Every time I see a cat I think about what it would be like to eat a cat first, then I want to pat it second. Is that weird? I don’t think I would like the taste. I imagine it would be like plain chicken which really isn’t a thing that I like. Or tiger. I think a cat would taste similar to a tiger. I’ve never tasted tiger. Though I do think that neither of those things would taste like lion – it’s just logical.
  • Is it possible to sing the theme tune to Arthur the Aardvark and still feel sad?
  • Am I the only one who finds Eternal Flame by the Bangles to be super creepy?
  • I wonder if people can tell that my legs are hairy under my stockings
  • Shit, my long term plan as a child was to get married at 27. I guess I’ve got 11 or so months to make that happen – anyone willing to help a sister out?

 

…Tune the next time I write a post to find out if my plan is on track…the marriage one that is.

10 Reasons To See One Beer Weird

Hey gorgeous! If you’ve made it this far you’re probably my kind of people already. I mean to get here you had to knowingly click on a link or type in a URL featuring my name – which is pretty confronting in itself – so go you! Pour yourself a wine, you deserve it. Don’t worry, I’ll wait til you’re done (I’m polite like that (which is a good enough reason to see my show, right?)) but even though you’re here, maybe you’re not sold yet. If so, fear not, for I have compiled a list, complete with 10 excellent reasons that my show is perfect for you.

  • You saw the 2007 film The Bucket List and which you found it endearing and inspirational, you thought “I reckon a 26 year old girl from Adelaide could do that better”
  • You understand that there is no science behind vision boards however you’ve read (and kind of believed) that they totally work
  • You have the bizarre desire to exercise some control over another person’s life (you weirdo)
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Could YOU even choose between Whitney or Britney?!
  • You get very chatty after one drink
  • You don’t even need one drink to get chatty
  • You know what a bucket list is and the first item on yours is to write one
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Come on, I dressed up as my dead dog for a party…
  • You have one single signature dance move that you pull out at every social occasions and sometimes just when a really good song comes on in the supermarket
  • You’re a generous, loving weirdo who wants to help a lost little kitten (me, I am the kitten in this scenario) find her way in this big bad world
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Help me, I’m so lost…
  • You like to laugh (well that was a given)
  • You sometimes wonder if you’re alone or if everyone else is just as nuts but just not showing it…

Are you convinced yet? If I got you across the line, you can grab tickets from here but if you aren’t there yet, maybe I’m not for you (and you therefore have terrible taste!)

Sorry not sorry

I’m really sorry to say this but the word ‘sorry’ sucks. Is it just me or is it insanely over used? I know that I am constantly apologising for things completely out of my control – usually in the work place. I like to think that it makes me come off as a good person; helpful and polite. Whenever I do it though, I feel like a complete twat. Like “I’m sorry that I don’t know where ‘so&so’ is, perhaps he went to get a coffee?” I say to my manager – but why should I be sorry? That guy is probably having the time of his life flirting with the cute girl at the coffee shop. Jerk.
I wrote myself a post-it note and stuck it to my computer “stop saying sorry” it said, and when of the senior managers asked me what it was about, I explained it to him as succinctly as possibly – apologising at least three times during the process.
I know it’s something that we’re told as women to do less – apparently we all take on all the burdens of the world and feel the guilt tenfold that of men. I don’t know if that’s true though, I’ve met some very overly apologetic men in my time (but granted, some of those apologies were deserved – I’m looking at you ‘terrible sex Todd’ – not his real name…)
I feel crap every time I apologise unnecessarily. That being said, I’ve got a few things I do need to apologise for before I truly commit to erasing sorry from my life – so without further ado…

  • I’m sorry to my brother Nick for all the times I told you to do things as a kid just so that I could watch you get into trouble. Mum, there was one time when I told him to throw our freshly laundered pyjamas in the bathtub just for the LOLs. And that was before LOLs were even a thing. (I’m not sorry for laughing when you got caught wagging school because one of your moronic mates posted about it on Facebook).
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I’m sorry that there was every a time in history where Nick & I thought we could pull this off.
  • I’m sorry to past Alicia for encouraging unrealistic expectations. I know I promised that we would never live in a house that had a shower curtain because you hate the way the stick to you. I’m sorry I lied. (I’m not sorry that you have spent the past three years showering in a bathroom with a shower curtain, its clingy ways have helped develop strength to endure through adversity in a very white middle class way).
  • I’m sorry to my co-workers who had to put up with me answering every question by reciting the opening monologue of Law and Order SUV one day last week. I recognise that it was very annoying to hear it twenty times in one afternoon. (I’m not sorry that I did it though, having memorised that short paragraph has helped shaped the person I am – one week later).
  • I’m sorry to my parents for trying to win every adolescent argument with the phrase “I never asked to be born”. It was low and shitty. (I’m not sorry that I thought it though – it’s a valid point, I don’t remember sending in a request form asking for ‘life’ – maybe my parents should have considered the very real difficulties that I would face in my privileged life before conceiving me. Bed at 10pm when you’re fourteen is a bullshit rule).
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I’m pretty sure that my general expression in this photo says “wasn’t abortion a viable option?”
  • I’m sorry to everyone I’ve ever been at a social event with, for over indulging in the nibbles to the point of embarrassment (I’m not sorry for enjoying and relishing in every beautiful mouthful).
  • I’m sorry to every male that I have ever and ever will be in a relationship with, for sharing with you my unpleasant smells, sounds, moods and opinions (I’m not sorry for shattering your belief that the female of the species is a delicate little porcelain unicorn that should be placed gently upon a pedestal for fear of breaking – I’m glad that someone finally alerted you to the fact that we’re more alike than you would ever care to admit). I am also sorry for every orgasm I have and ever will fake…in the big scheme of things, that’s not really helping anybody is it?
  • I’m sorry to my current self, for any time that I ever made myself feel bad for a choice that I have made. For criticising my physical self and my mental self. I am far more capable than I usually allow myself to believe and I need to stop treating myself like shit (I’m not sorry about the negative talk that I gave myself when I over plucked my eyebrows in year nine. That was deserved, those brows were dangerously abused and if I had not been so harsh on myself I may still have pencil thing lines above my eyes implying that I am in a constant state of shock or surprise which would be truly dreadful).

 

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I’m sorry I ever allowed these brows to leave the house.

In answer to Justin Bieber, it’s never too late to say sorry but maybe sometimes it’s just not necessary. I had a conversation with someone recently who told me the word is never required so I decided to call his bluff and said; “what if I maliciously kill someone, slowly and sadistically with incredibly will and intent – should I say sorry at some point?” and he said “well if you meant to do it then you’re really not sorry”. Touché old man.  I don’t 100% comprehend it but regardless I will take it as pure gospel.

The Crazy World of Alicia Norton

Welcome to my Blog. This is where I share my musings, ideas and links to articles that I have written elsewhere.

Feel free to wade through the articles or click through to some of the following links

RECENT POSTS:

Growing-Old Pains 

growing old pains

Last week I hurt my back while putting on pants. They weren’t complicated pants (whatever that means) and it wasn’t just a ‘ouch that hurt a little bit’ pain. It was a ‘looks like I’m stuck in bed requiring assistance when I need to go to the toilet’ kind of pain.
It fucking hurt.

Continue Reading…

WriteMore Competition Submission

WriteMore Cover

A little while ago I entered a short story in the ‘WriteMore’ writing competition in the Moreland council. I didn’t win anything (but I got a snazzy certificate and a went to a fun writers talk) but I thought I would share what I wrote so that someone gets to read it.

Continue Reading…

The. Best. Fringe. Yet. 

blog cover

I sit at home on my couch in Melbourne writing a reflection of my shortest yet most absolutely brilliant Adelaide Fringe festival so far.

It’s the last weekend of Fringe, my boyfriend has jumped on a plane to head over for the final weekend party and I’m here with beer, my laptop and party tunes playing from the TV (which has made me realise that Mandy Moore’s ‘Candy’ really didn’t get the credit it deserved- or maybe that beer is stronger than I thought…)

Continue Reading…

How to survive the Adelaide Fringe

cheryl and chardee blog image

 

(Originally published on Adelady) Fringe has arrived and just like Christmas (but without your weird auntie Sharon getting drunk and taking her teeth out) it’s exciting, confronting, and sometimes a little bit overwhelming.
Without a doubt it’s the best time to be in Adelaide; the weather’s great, all your mates are out and there a million and one things to do but it’s always good to grab a little advice – so we got in touch with a couple of ladies who know exactly how to help out…

Continue Reading…

The (almost) Relationship Ending Fart.

Fart pic

Three days ago I involuntarily unleashed a sound and scent from my body that caused me to question my ability to love myself. I couldn’t even begin to think about how it affected my boyfriend who was standing a mere meter away. Sure, I’ve farted in front of him plenty of times before – hell; I’ve probably even farted on him but this fart was different on so many levels.

Continue Reading…

My Dream Netflix Sub-Genre

Happy Sad image

I’m not crying, you’re crying…okay I’m bloody crying, there’s a torrential downpour of salty dampness falling from my peepers and I bloody love it, okay? Okay. I did this to myself, I have no one else to blame and I regret nothing.
This is exactly how I feel after watching Cool Runnings. Or Save The Last Dance. Or Dirty Dancing. Not because they’re sad, per se – sure it’s sad that I’m sitting here in a Friday night, sure it’s a bit sad how (spoiler alert) the fast running dude doesn’t get to go to the Summer Olympics and it’s definitely a kick in the guts when (spoiler alert) Julia Styles’ characters mum dies, and it’s definitely a complete tragedy when Baby’s sister embarrasses herself by singing – but it’s not ‘choke on your Kahlua and milk because you can’t breathe between tears’ level sad. But somehow that’s exactly what I manage. Every. Single. Time.

Continue Reading…

27 Thoughts I’ve Had Since Turning 27

27 thoughts Ive had since turning 27

It’s been almost a month since I turned 27, an incredibly freezing cold and unremarkable one. Sure I’ve cried at work (standard) and sipped red wine from a bottle mid week, like a thirsty baby whose parents should really be punished but otherwise life has been a little uneventful….

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The More I Bleed The More I Learn – Part Two: The Hello Kitty Maternity Hospital

Hello Kitty Cover Image

Ever woken up, checked the calendar (okay, more realistically the date on your phone) and thought “oh golly gee, seems like I should be surfing the crimson tide today” (okay, more realistically “fuck it, my period is due sometime soon”)? And like, it’s never really a good day when you realise that (if it comes it’s a 4 or so day bummer and if it doesn’t…blargh let’s not go there) – you’ve gotta find silver (crimson) linings where you can though, it’s the small things y’know? Like the excitement of reading the fun facts in the Libra wrappers. Yeah, life is really peaking.

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Interview with Toby Oliver

Get Out Cover

‘Get Out’, the hit directorial debut from comedian Jordan Peele has received rave reviews, wowing critics both here and in the US.

Mixing both horror and comedy, the film presents moments of true spine-tingling fear mixed with well-crafted jokes to create a thoroughly enjoyable, entertaining and thought-provoking piece of film.

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The more I bleed, the more I learn – Part One: The Russian Beard Tax
Making the most of the luxury goods tax, one factual month after the other.

Russian Beard Tax Cver

So you might not be aware but menstruation is a thing that happens on the reg for many around the world. For the uninitiated let me enlighten you: there ain’t much joy to be found in it. For some, slight happiness can be found in the revelation that they made it through another month without accidentally bringing life into the world but that’s where it stops for silver linings – or in this case, more like reddish brown linings (sorry not sorry).

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Snag a Snag: The Lazy Girls Eating Guide

Bunnings and Snag

Today I stopped by Bunnings just to get a sausage. I wandered in the door to make it look like I had a legitimate reason to be there and all I did was pat a dog (yes, people can and do take their dogs to Bunnings, note to single men out there, take your dogs to Bunnings, it is an excellent place to pick up).

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The Adelaide Bucket Stuff It List

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Adelaide, you’re amazing! You’re my home town – the only place I’ve ever lived in fact, but that’s all about to change as I do one of the most typical Adelaide things to do…and leave Adelaide.
Many a list has been put together of fantastic things to do in Adelaide (here’s one from the Adelady gals)  before you kick the proverbial bucket but what about a list of things to do when you’ve decided to leave the city (for a while)? What about a list for when you say “I’m going into hiding (moving to Melbourne) for a while”?
I present to you, the Adelaide stuff it list.

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10 Reasons To See One Beer Weird

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Hey gorgeous! If you’ve made it this far you’re probably my kind of people already. I mean to get here you had to knowingly click on a link or type in a URL featuring my name – which is pretty confronting in itself – so go you! Pour yourself a wine, you deserve it.

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New Year, New Me? Nah, Same Me, New Date.

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“The Final Countdown” by Journey is blasting from my tiny iPad speakers and I have no one to blame except myself. I was the one who selected the “Ultimate NYE Party” playlist from the plethora of options on Spotify and it’s a decision that I’m sticking with, despite the current outcome.

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Embarrassing tales of Christmas’ past

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Merry Christmas my loves, at this time, this precious beautiful time of year, let us all take a moment to remember the special moments of festive seasons past. I hope my reflections help you too, to reminisce about the times that you wished you could swap families, go into witness protection or simply disappear, never to be heard from ever again.

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Ten Thoughts I’ve Had While Moving House

moving-house

Hello Internet, I am moving house! Probably not news if you’re my Facebook friend though, since I’ve posted about 50 million status updates attempting to give away my furniture over the course of the last five weeks but that’s beside the point (however if you’re after a queen sized bed frame or a lounge, hit me up!). I digress.

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I Tried The Curry at Snowtown (So You Didn’t Have To)

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A quick and innocent Google search of the term ‘Snowtown’ inevitably returns a Wikipedia page detailing the gruesome murders and decaying corpses, an IMDB link to the film that dramatized them and numerous news reports with in depth information explaining exactly how it all unfolded. Not a single page mentions the absolutely top notch curry and fried chicken that can be found at the Snowtown Servo. I believe that this is an absolute travesty that needs to be rectified post-haste so I took one for the team and ventured (far) past Gepps Cross to retrieve curry so good that it should be consumed by the barrel full.

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I Tried KFC’s Cola Wicked Wings (So You Didn’t Have To)

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There has been much hype surrounding KFC’s new Cola BBQ Wicked Wings (mostly on KFC’s own Facebook page which I follow since I am of the sincere belief that simply seeing pictures of fatty food (and then consuming it) can make a hangover literally disappear).
It was due to this genius marketing technique (and a stream of constant ads on Spotify) that I found myself drawn to find out if they lived up to the hype.

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Sorry Not Sorry

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I’m really sorry to say this but the word ‘sorry’ sucks. Is it just me or is it insanely over used? I know that I am constantly apologising for things completely out of my control – usually in the work place. I like to think that it makes me come off as a good person; helpful and polite. Whenever I do it though, I feel like a complete twat.

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I Have Embraced

Embrace

“My body is the only thing that I truly own…I will strive to make it perfect in every possible way” – that’s something that I jotted down in a note book; I think I was eighteen or nineteen at the time.
While I was lucky enough – and yes, luck did have a lot to do with it, to spend a number of my adolescent years relatively unaffected by body image issues, as I hit my late teens looks became the primary focus of my attention.

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How I Developed My Love of Booze

Uraidla Pub

I don’t know what it is lately but I’ve been getting super nostalgic. All I listen to is throw back playlists; anything released in the last ten years makes me want to violently plug my ears and I am OBSESSED with the memories function on Facebook. What was that? Six years ago I rode my bike to the beach? Shit, past me was a far more glorious creature than I am now.

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Spotlight: Where Happiness Goes To Die

Survival

I would like to tell you that this is a happy story but it is not. At the beginning of this experience I was a happy go lucky young lady. Well a lot has happened since this morning and I write to you as a broken and fragile woman. This is not a tale of heroism; it is merely a tale of survival. There was no triumph over adversity in my adventures today however a simple and gracious, acceptance of my own mortality did occur.

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Hey Australia, I’m Not Okay

Sonia Kruger Post

This isn’t the first time that I’ve had to write a post like this. I hope and pray that it is the last but I’m not that naive.
I’m the one who’s always making a joke, always up for a bit of fun and general silliness but I can’t make jokes about this because it’s tearing my heart in two. Every ounce of my being aches as I write these words, as I think about the state of the world that we’re living in today.

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This is How You Adult (Apparently)

Aging blog

Tomorrow I turn twenty six. Today I went to work wearing a purple tutu, unicorn jumper and a flower wreath in my hair. Instead of the customary birthday office cake (usually from Costco or made by a loving wife) I took honey crackles. Partially because I don’t have a Costco membership or a loving wife but also because I am a big ‘old, silly ‘old kid at heart.

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With All the Love in the World, Fly Free Beautiful One

The last two weeks have been incredibly difficult for my family and I; tragically on the 17th of May my amazing brothers gorgeous fiance was taken from us. She was involved in an absolute freak single car accident, an accident that still doesn’t even seem to make much sense – and how can it ever? She was only 21, with so much life ahead of her to live, so many hopes and dreams but a desire for a humble yet wonderful life. Even though she was the most beautiful girl that most people had ever laid eyes on, she certainly wasn’t a princess (even though that’s exactly how my brother treated her – like she was the most wonderful little lady in the world). She was a tough little cookie, brave and fierce – she was training to be a vet nurse, while working in child care to save up for her November wedding, to start a life with my baby brother. As you can probably tell from her career choices, she really cared for others and for animals – she really truly did! So incredibly compassionate, this wonderful little gem touched the lives of so many people in her short time with us with her words and actions – she was the kind of girl who knew just how and when to give you a warm hug.

Snapped this photo a month or so ago when we were paintballing - only she could look so beautiful while pulling a face!
Snapped this photo a month or so ago when we were paint balling – only she could look so beautiful while pulling a face!

In the past week, we’ve all been riding a roller coaster of emotions; at first shock and a hell of a lot of grief, which has at times morphed into anger and frustration – how could someone so beautiful be taken so young? Horrible things cross your mind; mostly complete anger as to why others more ‘deserving’ were not taken in her place – why was someone who was so good taken from us? There were nights for all of us when we would wake up believing that she was still alive, that there had been a mistake, some kind of mix up.
I know that we will continue to feel this way at times but we can also be thankful that we were lucky enough to have met such an all round brilliant person. My heart has never ached the way that it has since we lost Rikki and as much as it hurts, I hope this pain never goes away – because I never want to forget how much joy she brought to our lives and I’m worried that the day it stops aching will be the day that you truly leave. I know though, that I shouldn’t be worried; she will be with us in every sunrise and sunset and each time we see a sunflower (her absolute favourite) or any bright or beautiful thing for that matter, we can all take comfort in the fact that she is still bringing us joy. What has been one of the biggest struggles is trying to think of how we can now all live that extra bit of life for her. When trying to think of what things she may have wanted to achieve in life, the only thing I could think of (apart from her desire to visit Harry Potter world) was her overwhelming urge to just marry my bother and have beautiful babies. It hurts to know this is a dream she can never achieve but if we all make sure we fiercely chase down our own dreams on her behalf, she will live a bit of extra life through each and every one of us.

At her engagement to my brother - your love is one to truly be envied.
At her engagement to my brother – your love is one to truly be envied.

I was fortunate enough to have the oppourtunity to speak at a celebration for her life after her funeral – a truly special event where we were able to bring some of the dreams that she had for her wedding to life, tasting the food, cakes and wine she had selected, leaving our mark on the finger print tree that she had thought up for her wedding and enjoying the decorations and colours that she loved so much. I have included below what I wrote for her and although I now know that ‘closure’ is something that my family or I will never ever truly feel, every little piece of therapeutic action we take will help us just a little bit. Rest in peace beautiful angel, though the world will be a little less bright without your smile to brighten it up every day, may you fly free and see the world from a better place x x

My favourite photo of this gorgeous girl, taken on Mothers Day, just three weeks ago, when the world was a brighter place. Her feet were sore from new shoes so my darling brother just started carrying her on his back. What a love.
My favourite photo of this gorgeous girl, taken on Mothers Day, just three weeks ago, when the world was a brighter place. Her feet were sore from new shoes so my darling brother just started carrying her on his back. What a love.

“A beautiful angel was taken from us far too soon. Rikki you were my surrogate sister, a beautiful little lady who brought so much happiness and joy to the lives of everyone around you. I will always be grateful for the love that you brought into my brothers life – you made him feel so special and wonderful. You two had the kind of love that others can only dream of. Not only did you light up his world though, but also when you came into his life you gained a whole new family, a daunting experience that you took completely in your stride. Where others have fled in fear from out big, boisterous and ridiculous family occasions, you fit right in, even showing us up sometimes. We knew straight away that you were the perfect addition to our crazy clan, boldly claiming your own gift – an inflatable pool toy, at the first Norton Kris Cringle and joining in on our silly games with full gusto. Your second choice for Christmas present, after having the pool toy stolen, was a washing basket full of toilet paper – and you were delighted! Never before have I seen a girl so happy about toilet paper – which I then went on to steal from you, as was the nature of the game! Never will there be a Norton family gathering where you won’t be missed, but your mark on our family will always be there. To us, you were already our sister; daughter, niece, cousin and granddaughter and forever you will remain.
Your vivacious spirit affected everyone you encountered; you were too kind, too beautiful and too courageous for us all to keep up. It has been absolutely phenomenal to hear from so many people about how you effected their lives – receiving messages from people who I didn’t even know you knew, about all the quirky little things you used to do has been so heartwarming. It’s a rare quality, but I don’t think there was a single person you met, whose life you didn’t have an impact on – even if it was just sharing your beautiful smile to brighten up their day. I know that personally I’ll never be able to eat spaghetti again without having a little laugh at your expense – and I’m sure that you know exactly what I mean! I can’t imagine that any other girl could have taken a shed and turned it into a warm and gorgeous home – even though it meant that you once found yourself sitting on the roof in the pouring rain, wearing only your pajamas and dressing gown, laughing while the boys fitted your new fireplace.
You were the crazy girl who got burns on her bum when sliding down the slippery dip at the pub but still went back to do it again, you put me to shame when we went paint balling – telling me that you were scared of getting hit before going in, along with your partner in crime, our beautiful Nicholas, all guns blazing and using up all your paint balls in the first round – and possibly even winning one round if I remember correctly!
Knowing you was one of the greatest gifts that my family and I could have ever received. Thank you for being you.
You followed your dreams with such fierceness and made us all so proud and humbled. You taught us to be brave and to follow our passions in life.
You were a precious gift sent to teach us how valuable life can be; because of you we will always be the best versions of ourselves. You’ve brought us all together here today, just like you matched up plenty of your friends, bringing new and wonderful friendships to this world, because bringing people together was just one of your many talents and thanks to you, your family will forever be ours.
Thank you beautiful, for coming into our lives, I just wish you could have stayed for a little while longer.”

She never had the chance to be a mother but my goodness would she have been an amazing mumma. She was a great God-Mother though and her spirit will live on through all those whose lives she touched.
She never had the chance to be a mother but my goodness would she have been an amazing mumma. She was a great God-Mother though and her spirit will live on through all those whose lives she touched.

Dear Australia, we need to talk…

So I’ve been mulling over this for a few days, wondering if I should or shouldn’t post this. A quick disclaimer, this post isn’t up beat like most of my others – it’s rather the opposite in fact. The event that I’m about to talk about brought about a range of feelings for me – fear, anger, disgust, sadness and disappointment, just to make a few. I don’t want to make this about something that happened to me either, because as I’m sure you’ll understand, I’m certainly not unique in this circumstance.

Something happened on the weekend, something that shouldn’t happen, to anyone, ever, wherever they are, under any circumstances what so ever.

I was at a music festival on Saturday and let’s just say it wasn’t the nicest of days – mud everywhere, wind constantly whipping around and rain continually falling from the dark clouds above. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t a brilliantly fun day – just marred by a few blemishes from Mother Nature! That being said, there was also something else that detracted from all the good stuff. Here’s what happened.
Like I said, it was raining, so in a last ditch attempt to stop my hair getting too wet, I wrapped my heavy scarf around my head and over my hair. There it stayed for a while, without me giving it a second thought. That’s when it happened. I was waiting in the (insanely long) line for the toilet with a friend and I was approached – no, actually, I was rushed at, by a complete stranger – an incredibly inebriated young girl who, all of a sudden began pulling at my scarf. The words that were coming out of her mouth were heinous; “Take that scarf off your head, people will think you’re a Muslim – don’t be a Muslim, Islam is bad” – and on it went. A girl (who I guess was a friend of hers) halfheartedly appologised and tried to pull her away – but she came back. As she aggressively pulled at my scarf, which, in my panic I refused to remove, she yanked at my hair, even pulling some clips out.

Just for context, this is the scarf and how I was wearing it (although I snapped this photo the following day, and yes I only half removed my make-up / face paint)
Just for context, this is the scarf and how I was wearing it (although I snapped this photo the following day, and yes I only half removed my make-up / face paint)

Immediately afterwards I was visibly shaken. Luckily my friend talked me down; “She’s obviously the kind of girl that gets her news from commercial TV and reads the Advertiser” – but that didn’t exactly help. The fact that anyone, regardless of how drunk and beyond their own inhibitions they were, would deem it okay to do that absolutely shocked me – especially a young, ‘normal’ enough seeming ‘lady’ – it was basically disgusting. Additionally, it thoroughly rattled me that this event coincided with ANZAC Day – a day on which we commemorate the sacrifices that were made in the past so that we could now live in a free country, filled with opportunity for all.

For me this really hit hard, you see three years ago I was fortunate enough to be selected to travel to Turkey (a secular nation whose predominant religion is Islam), and attend University with some amazing Turkish students. I spent ANZAC Day 2012 with them, and was able to learn about the experience of war from their perspective – not that different from ours, actually. I guess when I say ‘I have a lot of Muslim friends’ – it’s not just a token comment, it’s genuine. The guys and girls who I met in Turkey were some of the best people I’ve ever had the oppourtunity to work, and yes, party with – as I’m sure many uninformed Aussies may be surprised to learn, young Muslims aren’t that different to us. My friends and I danced the nights away in bars and clubs and my friends wouldn’t have been out of place at the music festival on Saturday – bar the attitudes of other attendees, that is. I pains me, in fact, that I just used the term ‘us’ to describe my group of people in order to differentiate us from the ‘other’ – because if I’ve learned anything, at the heart of the matter, we have a lot more in common with one another, than we have differences.

I don’t want this to be about ‘something that happened to me’ – because as a white Aussie, whose reason for having a scarf wrapped around my head has nothing to do with my religious belief, this didn’t have as much affect on me as it could have on others. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult, how horrible this would have been for any of my friends, who choose to remain covered due to religious or cultural beliefs – and just as much, I have many friends whose religious or cultural beliefs you wouldn’t be aware of unless they told you – as such, not knowing someones background does not excuse bigoted or insensitive behavior.
As educated Australians it is important to recognise that this isn’t who we are. That although one drunk girls idiotic behavior isn’t the reflection of our entire nation, it is the symptom of many under lying problems.

This should never have happened. I’m almost glad that it happen to me – like I said, better it happen to me than anyone in a more vulnerable position, however it just makes me deeply sad that any one would have such narrow minded thoughts in the first place. I’m not writing this because I want to be a voice for anyone else and I’m more than happy to be corrected however I do feel that when people act in a racist or bigoted manner, it is vital that we bring attention to it, talk about it and work together to try and stop it ever happening again.

With some of my amazing friends on the day.
With some of my amazing friends on the day.