Spotlight: Where Happiness Goes To Die

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.

This morning I awoke with only one simple goal – to purchase a pack of millinery brooch pins from Spotlight. A ten minute drive to industrial suburbia should do the trick and then I would be free to explore the surrounding stores within the 62,000 square meter compound of home making ‘bliss’. Right. I set out with all the determination of a true crafter (I woke up and watched outright abused my Netflix subscription for two hours in my pyjamas on the couch). By eleven thirty I was on the road, passing by a number of precarious establishments claiming to be ‘motels’  but better known as the safe house of many an affair.

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The unassuming location of my near emotional and physical breakdown.

It wasn’t long before I was navigating my trusty (often breaks down with no rhyme, reason or explanation) Ford Fiesta into the car park of an establishment that is likely responsible for more marriage breakdowns than Ikea and reality TV combined; The Gepps Cross Home Maker Centre.
If aliens visited earth and landed here, without a doubt they would get right back in and go back where they came from. A monstrosity of concrete and Mecca of capitalism taken most advantage of in the form of twelve month lay-buys and interest free plans by residents of surrounding working class suburbs; visiting this place is a risky voyage for the most mentally of sound individuals – unfortunately it attracts those who are not.
I undertook the voyage alone, not sure enough in the strength of my long term relationship to take that level of risk. I could have taken a friend however I value my friendships far too much to gamble what we’ve built on such a volatile yet petty expedition.

I entered Spotlight with all the trepidation that such an undertaking deserved. I was keen to get in and get out quickly so that I could soon reward myself with an overpriced warm drink in a nearby cafe. My goal was to engage as few people in conversation as possible – I would have no such luck. I made my way to the area that I expected to find the pins and in the process achieved my entire required daily step count, yet what I was looking for was not to be found.
Next step: engage a staff member – a task that turned out to be far more difficult than finding a genuine connection on Tinder. A few more laps of the store layout, a conversation with two staff members who looked at me as if I had three heads (to their credit I’d forgone makeup application for the day) and finally I found reached my goal, however satisfied isn’t a word I would use to describe myself. Looking at the selection of millinery brooches I was forlorn. Six for $3.50. In the past I’ve purchased 50 for around $10 in the same store however I wasn’t ready for my trip to be wasted. I grabbed two packs and headed for the checkout.

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Stealthy shot that I took of the line up. I hardcore resent the smiling woman.

 

This, dear friends, is the moment where I truly began to see my grip on reality fading away. Two very young and determined yet hopeless staff members had around thirty middle aged women, a few broken husbands and a handful of bratty children lined up and expecting to be served. A saner person would have dropped their potential purchase there and then and headed to the nearest fast food restaurant to eat their sorrows into oblivion however by this point I was determined – I had my overpriced pins  and I was going to buy them – even if it killed me.
By the fifteenth minute waiting I started looking at the woman in front of me, wondering, if I got the rest of the ever expanding line to team up with me, could we take her down and survive off eating her body until we were rescued?
The situation began to get dire when a woman marched through the line to get the drinks fridge near the front – she swiftly took water back to her shopping buddy who was clearly becoming dehydrated – in the mid-winter chill.
Never before have had I experienced a group of people share such a strong, negative emotion as they did when a woman marched through the shop door and immediately approach the front of the line exclaiming “I’ve just got a quick question!”  – she was swiftly shut down and sent to the back of the line, where she is probably still waiting, five hours later.
I was almost at the front of the line and I heard a woman paying $950 for the collection of curtain rods and throw cushions in her trolley. I couldn’t relate – I use milk crates for all manner of furniture in my home.

Finally I was served, paying resentfully for my overpriced pins, attempting to feign a mixed look of sympathy and disappointment towards the assistant as I left.
I took a deep breath of what felt like my first taste of fresh air (which is reality was steeped in outer city fumes) as I walked out into the overcast day and appreciated my life in a way that I never had before. Whence previously I had looked forward to an afternoon alone strolling the 62,000 meters looking at Italian designed, Chinese made furniture that I could never justify buying, I was now just searching for the quickest escape.

As I got into my car and drove off, I experienced a feeling of freedom the likes of which I had never felt before. While my feeling was temporarily dulled by a red light causing me to stop and reflect on the hour that had felt like eternity, I had a new appreciation for online shopping and drive thru fast food.

Now as I sit here, now full of food that I took myself out to eat, to console my broken soul I Google “millinery brooch pins” and look what I find. Fuck bricks and mortar stores, it’s eBay for me here on out.

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Free postage as well. *Sigh*

Ten People You’ll Meet at Adelaide Airport

The airport is a great melting pot of people, all mixing together with one key objective; to safely board a flying chunk of metal, without engaging in confronting communication with their fellow travellers. While it could be said that every airport around the world has the same old commuters passing through, Adelaide is just a little bit special.

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Image credit: glgcorp.com/projects

 

Here are my fave 10 people you’ll meet at Adelaide Airport:

1. The Fashionistas

Ready and searching for a bargain before they’ve even left the state, the ‘fashionista’ probably stopped by Harbour Town on the way to the airport and they’re keeping an eye out for rare ‘sale’ signs in the airport outlets. In two days time they’ll be holding up the check-in line at Melbourne airport as they attempt to repack their bags after piling on all the clothes they bought over the weekend. It doesn’t seem odd that they’re wearing three hats, two coats and, most curiously, five bras, on the flight home, in order to avoid excess baggage costs.

2. The Footy Fans

A group that is heard before they’ve been seen, loudly singing the team song or discussing post game stats. Have you ever been stuck on a plane with a team of excited Port Adelaide fans (#sorrynotsorry for the blatant stereotyping) on their way to Melbourne in September? I’ll give you this advice for free; at all costs, try to avoid it — for your own sanity.

3. The High Flyers

You can spot an out-of-towner in a number of ways; they’re usually more stressed than your average Adelaide Joe and let’s be honest, they’ll probably be drawing attention to themselves by speaking loudly on the phone, whinging about the shitty day they’ve had in, “This hell hole of a city”– being Adelaide. How dare they!

Dressed uncomfortably in a suit not made for the climate, they’re itching to get back to their corporate-jerk job and inner-city home that has them mortgaged to the hilt. What they don’t know is — we don’t want them here anyway!

 

Read the rest of the article on Adelady here: http://adelady.com.au/10-people-youll-meet-at-adelaide-airport/

That One Time I Got Lash Extensions…

I should probably start this by explaining that I am certainly not the most sophisticated of women; I buy my make-up from the supermarket and I wouldn’t even think twice about eating an entire Dominos Deep Crust all to myself. However, when I was offered the chance to try an eye enhancing treatment thanks to the excellent folk at Essential Beauty, I was intrigued.

Furthermore, when I found out that it would mean I could get flawless eyes without having to wear (and therefore remove) any eye make-up for at least two weeks, well that’s when this lazy girl was sold!

To read the rest of the article, head on over to Adelady.

Bunting Is Not A Dirty Word*

Attending yet another friend’s wedding recently, with my boyfriend in tow, I was struck by the gorgeous decorations that adorned the venue, remarking to said boyfriend; “Isn’t that some lovely bunting?” What happened next left me gob smacked, in a state of shock and absolute despair, my boyfriend replied by saying; “what in the Lords good name is bunting?” (okay, that’s not what he said but I kind of wanted him to sound cutesy and proper, he actually said “what the fuck is bunting?”). It was at this point that I began to question every decision that I had made about my life up until that very point – how could I be planning to spend the rest of my life with a man who does not know what bunting is? Slight overreaction, perhaps however I was in a little bit of shock.

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The bunting in question, at said friends wedding.

The mark and sign of adorable hipster gals and guys worldwide, decorative bunting is a diverse thing of absolute majesty. Being a bearded man who, when it pleases him, refers to himself as a barista and at other times a comedian, I assumed that he would have knowledge of such things. It turns out that I put too much faith in him.

After pointing at the delicate material hanging from ornate ribbon strung across the venue, I expected him to be impressed however my explanation was simply met with a shrug and ignorant comment; “Ah right, just looks like bits of scrappy material on a string to me”. The feeling of disappointment once again filled my being, I would never be able to commit to a man so ignorant of such beauty.

Lucky for him, my love can look past him lack of knowledge about this simple facet of society and my mind got to thinking. Bunting is a staple of many happy households, cafes, bars, baby showers, weddings and awkwardly nostalgic 60th birthday parties filled with relatives that you’d secretly hoped were already dead. It is diverse in its application and a thing of much excellence, could its purpose not be bigger than we had previously imagined with our feeble narrow minds?
Bunting could probably fix marriages that are on the brink of destruction, it could likely cure cancer and without a doubt end many a mental illness.
Bono (of U2 fame, just in case  he is not longer relevant at the time of publishing, as is the nature of the world we live in) recently suggested that comedians could end wars, with jokes spreading laughter far and wide soldiers would not be able to resist the urge to laugh and their hearts would inevitable be filled with joy. Bono is an idiot however he could be onto something, filling the hearts of soldiers with joy could in fact end all wars and if there is one sure way to bring about joy then that is, without a doubt, bunting.
So let’s all raise a glass, to that oft overlooked, at times misunderstood, beautiful addition to any life: bunting.

*Okay, so if you look it up on Urban Dictionary, it totally is (a dirty word that is). On so many levels and with so so so many interpretations. I suggest that you click on this paragraph, pick any interpretation that you like and re-read the above with that very definition in life.

The excitement of an alone stroll…

Today I went for a walk, look at me go! Unfortunately, being a public holiday, the rest of Adelaide seemed to have the same idea. The thing is, when you get a whole heap of people in the same place, suddenly some people just seem…worse than others. Rather than enjoy the scenery, I kept myself distracted by noticing the flaws in those around me and I choose to share them now with you, in this blog post – enjoy xx

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At least the scenery was worth it.

Car Park Wankers

Without being reminded by my fellow walkers, I already find it weird that I am DRIVING MY CAR to go somewhere to WALK. Growing up in the beautiful surrounds of the Adelaide Hills, you just go for a walk where you live however since moving to suburbia, I’ve had to get comfortable with the concept of driving to nature – rather than just stepping out of the front door and into it.
On top of this, on a day like this, the park was absolutely full to the brim with a number of cars (predominantly ‘tough’ 4WDs) parked in non-designated parking areas – ALL OVER THE NATURE. The cars were parked on the nature that their inhabitants were there to enjoy. I just don’t get it. For the record, I parked further away and…here’s an abstract concept…walked to the walk.

Croc Sock Dag

Someone is very embarrassed to be related to this human. Not only was he wearing crocs, he was wearing them with socks on a hike up a rocky hill. Go home.

Headphone Farter

She may not have been able to hear it but surely she could feel it? Sure she was blasting T-Swiz pretty loudly through her noise cancelling headphones but that is no excuse for farting loudly whilst walking past another group of walkers. None at all.

Ipad Dad

Taking photos with an Ipad is bad at the best of times however when its half way through a three hour hike you really have to question everything you ever thought you knew. Furthermore, if the photographer in question is dressed head to toe in bike riding Lycra with not a single road nor road bike in sight, perhaps it is in fact time to give up on this world.

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I shouldn’t judge though – I was snapchatting shitty pictures of koalas…

Glasses Buddy

This lady was wearing the same sunglasses as me so walked out of her way, just to tell me. It wasn’t a huge shock as I could in fact easily see that we were wearing the same glasses myself. Wearing the same glasses is not reason enough to become friends and someone should explain that to this woman. After pointing out out common eye wear to me, she then tried to continue the conversation – lady I just wanna enjoy nature on my own – enough!

Couples Therapy

Next up I was stuck behind Michelle and Lucas; Lucas barely ever empties the dishwasher and having to constantly ask Lucas to do so distresses Michelle as she is very conscious of not nagging him. My life is enriched with this knowledge.

Selfie Stick Owner

They are big, they are awkward and they are pointy and you look like an idiot.

Star Wars Spoiler

I’m torn, I can’t decide if this is adorable or super shitty. Whilst catching my breath in the car park before heading back to my car I could over hear a woman reading out the Wikipedia plot overview of Star Wars to her incredibly eager child. Now I haven’t seen Star Wars however I am incredibly familiar with the Wikipedia plot overview – because I’ve read it just to keep up with pop culture and to make sure I’m down with the youth. So anyways, my gripe? While it was kinda cute how much the kid was loving it and how adorable the entertainment method was I was concerned for THE PEOPLE – the woman’s voice was kinda loud and what if the other people didn’t want to know any Star Wars spoiler alerts? WHAT IF?

10/10 Douche Bros

For a solid three minutes, the absolute worst of my life, I was stuck within hearing distance of two ‘roided up twats who felt the need to rate every single woman that they spotted on a scale out of ten, pulling apart every aspect of their physical appearance in a terribly degrading way that only a truly insecure person could. They were terrible people and I hope that their dicks shrivel up and their hair falls out. For the record, I’m a seven with a great butt who could ‘lose a bit off the thighs and should check out fake tanning ’ while they were far too muscular for my liking with faces that only a paper bag could improve and personalities that could never be saved.

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This is what a ‘7’ looks like – taken WITHOUT a selfie stick.

Runners

Up the hill, down the hill, super fast on the flats and constantly making us non-runners feel inadequate. Runners are not your friends, they are super human beasts put on this earth to keep the rest of us in our place – and they deserve every shin splint that comes their way.

 

So if you ever decide to go on a walk and spot me out and about, perhaps have a nice trait that I can write about next time I do this?

Tinder, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

I should have started writing this at least ten minutes ago (okay, twenty…) but I found myself distracted by my old friend Tinder. I wasn’t even looking – I mean, yes I was “looking” but only in the sense that I was using my eyes to peruse while my fingers did the swiping (on the screen that is). Technically I’m currently otherwise satisfied – but I haven’t got to the point where I’ve deleted the app yet; that’s the kind of thing that signifies real commitment and I’m not sure that I’m ready for that yet. Two of my friends recently made that call in their blossoming relationship and the very thought of it made me break into cold sweats. I’d be more prepared to walk down the aisle and commit to someone I was matched with via an online love calculator on a reality TV show than commit to deleting Tinder. Why, I hear you ask – well boys and girls, the list pretty much writes itself, so without further ado; my top ten reasons why I won’t be deleting Tinder (any time yet, that is…)

(oh and for the uninitiated, a swipe to the left means “sorry mate, better luck next time”, while a swipe to the right means “good one sweetheart, something has sparked my attention”)

1 – Shameless – every last one of us…

I’ve got no shame – regular readers on my blog should have figured that out by now but even those people with standards and self respect seem to lose it all the moment they sign up for Tinder. Remember, I’m on there too, so every negative thing I say could also be about myself (but let’s be honest, it’s probably not). People are upfront about everything – start a conversation and you’ll be surprised at what you find out – and your suspicions that every member of Gen Y is a self absorbed twat will probably be confirmed

2 – I don’t have a cat and free to air TV is boring…

I feel like if I had the patience to rear a pet then I’d probably get one and that way I’d be entertained for hours on end. Otherwise I could sign up to Netflix – but that also requires effort. What requires probably equal amounts of effort but has a better pay off is swiping through Tinder. Sure striking up conversation can be a pain in the ass but hey, most of the time the shit that my Tinder matches dribble is more entertaining than an episode of Home and Away – plus if I’m lucky, they’ll invite me to their place that has a Netflix subscription – and if I’m even luckier they’ll have a heater / air con (seasonal variance, obviously) and that’s great because electricity is expensive.

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I found this on the internet – if I had this in my life then MAYBE I wouldn’t need Tinder? Maybe… image from here; http://www.catster.com/lifestyle/hot-guys-and-baby-animals-kittens-pictures-photos-book-interview-audrey-khuner

3- I don’t need to search ‘hot shirtless guy’ to get my kicks…

FREE PORN SAY WHAT?! Okay, ‘porn’ might be an exaggeration but as someone who proudly admits to enjoying the occasional male strip show (I’m only human after all…), I do enjoy swiping, swiping and BAM RIPPED AS HOT TOPLESS DUDE. Thank you gods of Tinder – you know just what I needed on this lonely, cold Tuesday night. It’s not like I’ll swipe right – I doubt that any guy who posts a shirtless gym pic is the kind I’d want to introduce to my parents but that doesn’t mean I can’t look…and screen shot for later.

4- I live in a post land line world…

Back in the day, basically before my dating years, if you wanted to ask a girl (or a guy) out, you had to dial a landline, never knowing who would answer. Did they live with their parents still? What if they had a psycho housemate who liked to mess with potential suitors? WHAT IF? That kind of fear could weed out the weakest of contenders however with the ease of direct contact through mobile phones and messenger apps, it’s now way too easy to contact the person that of your desires. For that reason, the short description under Tinder photos is now part on an essential veto process. A quote from Anchor Man? It says he likes that movie – and that’s alright, it’s a funny movie, but he lacks creativity and he’s probably dull as can be. A Dad joke? I like your style. An upfront admission to being a sexist creep? Well I’m glad we got that out the way! Or you could be like Jacob*, 28 from Adelaide. He’s in a polyamorous relationship and wants to broaden his horizons – good for him, and good for me. Glad we cleared that up, I’ll be swiping left and going on my way.

Call me...boys.
Call me…boys.

5- I live in Adelaide and I have a really big family

I can literally swipe five times and bump into someone I know – or am related to. It’s like walking down Rundle Street in March. Okay, I lie, I’m exaggerating a bit – it took me fifteen swipes tonight before I found a kid I went to primary school tonight. Finding these people always puts a smile on my face – not just because I enjoy making sly judgements about what they choose to put out there but because it’s nice to know that they’re still alive and kicking. This counts for family too – as creepy as it is to almost swipe right on your first cousin (and no, it doesn’t go ‘your cousins and then your first cousins’ – it’s all as bad as one another…) it really is nice to know that they’re getting out there – I do have a huge family and if I had to keep up with their lives using Facebook and human contact alone, I’d run out of time to sleep (around).

6 – I’m a stickler for good spelling

Communicating via a message app allows me to make judgement calls based on your spelling and grammar. Sure, I could do this via text messages but by that point you’ve already got my number – you could deceive me with your dulcet tones down the line rather than accidentally revealing your major flaws. Let’s have a text only probation period – and that includes no sending of pictures, I want to judge you on your conversation skills, not your package…I’ll save that judgment for later.

7- I’m a sucker for compliments

I chose five of my most flattering and interesting pictures to adorn my profile; in them I look pretty and fun. Little do viewers know that I usually wake up looking like a swamp monster and that sometimes (regularly) I’d rather cuddle up with my electric blanket and a good book than go an drink in a bar. They don’t need to know the truth so early on – let them be fooled and falsely believe I am the coolest babe going around. I will therefore accept the compliments that follow; “hey beautiful” – oh you! “You do comedy – that’s so cool – and brave!” – oh thanks (it’s not cool, it makes me neurotic and crazed but I’ll let you believe it’s cool)! “What, you’re on a diet? Don’t bother, you’re so sexy” – says the guy that will never get to see me naked or learn the bumpy truth…

8 – Being a judgmental jerk is way easier behind a screen…

Can’t we all be bitchy from time to time? Probably better to do it in a setting that won’t get you death stares across the dance floor. Just swipe left or right and reap the joy and satisfaction that they power of your phone gives you – because feeling powerful from Tinder is healthier than starting a death cult.

9 – I’m paranoid…

That my fingers will get fat if they don’t get their daily swipe-ercise. I may be grasping at straws for reasons to not delete the app but c’mon, I’ve made some valid points so far!

10 -The excitement of getting a match is too much to deny myself…!

That thrill of my phone producing that distinct long and low buzzing sound can be matched by no other. It’s either keep Tinder or become a drug addict, clearly the choice is simple.

“It’s a match” – no three words can give me the same kinda thrill…

*Name changed because I don’t want to be a total bitch – but I’m sure he’d know who is and probably be totally fine with being named and shamed – Tinder is public after all!I