I will stop eating so much grill’d, buying useless stuff off Ebay and other New Year’s vows that won’t make it off this page.

They forget to tell you the year of 19 is the pits.

You’re old enough to legally do what you want, but you’re too young to make big decisions your parents don’t agree with – like dropping out of university or eating an entire cake by yourself. You want to travel, but you work for a fast food restaurant or some other crappy dead-end-job that definitely does not support your dreams of having a social life and nice clothes.

You’re in a limbo of wanting to do well at university and not liking your degree. Only one tutor/lecturer bought you lunch this year and you can’t afford matching socks.

But the other thing they forget to tell you about the year of 19, is that while you’re stuck in your funk, wondering why you have no money/friends/job/future, the year of 19 keeps going, and once you leave your bedroom, it can get pretty fun.

Sure, I wanted to drop out of university 23.8 times, but it was also a year of car trips, and beach trips, and boat trips and camping trips.

A year of laughing too much, singing too loud, and crying at the death of Alan Rickman. A year of too many spray tans, too many sunburns and not enough bread – screw you summer body.

A year of forgotten tent poles (I hate you Jamile), too much jaeger and licking peoples noses in the mosh*.

I made it to the halfway point in my dual degree.

I worked for my “forever company” for three weeks before realising it was like I was back in high school and definitely not worth the “forever company” term.

I threw out my Harry Styles life-sized cardboard cutout and instantly became an adult.

I took approximate 439 photos of my cats and partied like there was no tomorrow (and then refused to drink for three months due to flashbacks).

At the end of 2014 I vowed to not “keep my juggs enclosed in my over the shoulder boulder holder at all times,” and “not touch my friends boobs or bums (unless they ask me to).” On January 1st, I vowed never to drink again as I realized what my phone now looked like, and the photos accompanying said phone screen smashing.

Last year, I forgot about resolutions as I danced the night away with a French boy named Gabrielle, my old friend Smirnoff and three of my best girlfriends at a music festival. On January 2nd, I vowed to never eat chips and poutine again as I vomited down the side of some poor sod’s tent.

This year, I share with you another set of vows and resolutions, I’m sure to forget come January 3 – but hopefully not, some of these are proper adult ones I should probably get around to doing.

Take each one with a grain of salt and watch along on my Instagram as I take a shot for every failed attempt at the following:

  1. I will stop wearing thongs with every outfit – unless its to the beach and/or a university exam (in the hopes comfort will produce a god exam – I’m doubtful too sigh).
  2. I will put more one-on-one effort into my friendships, with or without the aid of wine and Bridget Jones.
  3. I will let go of the friendships that aren’t filling me with support, food, love and ability for growth.
  4. I will take more group photos – preferably not a selfie but will settle… Should maybe invest in a tripod hmmm…
  5. I will shave my legs more than once a month – pulling this one straight from 2014 considering nothing has changed since then.
  6. I will not ride a scooter in Bali
  7. I will learn how to budget and actually stick to it. Ie stop spending $60 on groceries a week when I live with my parents. I don’t know how either.
  8. I will stop buying useless things off ebay… all of the delivery people now know my name… oops?
  9. I will learn the names of all of my mail deliverymen who I see at least three times a week.
  10. I will stop eating so much grilld (my month overseas without grilld counts doesn’t it?).

Here’s to 2016, you were okay I suppose…

*Just a disclaimer this was not me, but my friend Nicholas. Please see this post for more funny details.

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Lamington National Park – minus the lamingtons

My girlfriends and I are city gals. There’s no talking around it, even if one of us is actually from a country town – we’ve converted her.

Try as we might to become one with nature, we just simply enjoy being able to fulfil the basic human need of always having phone reception.

We are not campers, if the Splendour in the Grass 2016 tent debacle is anything to go by. And with all of us scared of heights and converse’s being worn on more than one hike, we are certainly not mountaineers.

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15 Things Australia has taught us

15 years ago this week, my parents packed up all of our belongings, sold their house in Wellington, said goodbye to their families and trekked across the ditch to Brisbane with two young children in tow.

 

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For a month we lived in a motel made up of little brick houses with green roofs, across from the transport office (a lucky location considering it took my mother three tries to gain her Australian drivers licence). No jobs, no house, no furniture and two children distraught at the thought of losing their beloved ‘blankies’ on their own trip to Australia in a shipping container*, my parents are the real MVPs.  Continue reading

Hello Summer, we’ve missed you!

It feels like only yesterday I was wandering along the beach with my blogging pal Lydia, taking photos to help say goodbye to summer. But alas, it has apparently already been 6 months (how?) and the weather this past week has shown that summer is ready to kick into action – albeit a little late, even seasons love procrastination apparently.

Windows down, Christmas playlist and sunglasses on, two girlfriends and I tore down the highway for the first (proper) beach trip of summer. Slight merging issues aside – as a self-proclaimed horrible driver was behind the wheel (yes, me)– we welcomed summer with open arms, ready for the months of sun, sand, and surf (and sunscreen for us pale folk) ahead.

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So here’s to the next 6 months.

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An open letter to the cast and writers of friends

My main questions to you are; why do you hate me? What have I done to you? All I have done is fall in love with 6 TV characters at 12 years old.

 
The year Friends first aired before I was even a glimmer of thought in my parents minds. The year season ten aired I was seven years old. My mum had been watching every episode my entire life. I watched on from around the lounge door as Rachel dropped the last key to the apartment on the table and my mother clutched at a pillow in an attempt to qualm her tears. It didn’t work out for her well.

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What I learnt growing up as a makeup fanatic to the daughter of a woman who has never worn makeup* 

 

For as long as I’ve known my mother (aka my entire life), I can’t quite remember a time where she has worn makeup. Which makes it quite ironic that I crawled out of her with a foundation in one hand and a Too Faced Chocolate Bar Palette in the other almost 20 years ago – must’ve been in an effort to cover up those milk spots. My father unfortunately did not support the makeup on babies trend. Sigh**.

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My 10 most Bridget Jones-esque dating moments.

This week everyone’s favourite granny-undie–wearing spinster hit the big screen once again to give us Bridget Jones’ Baby (sans the king of chick flick Hugh Grant and his famous voice over – sigh).

 

While Bridget may now be settled down and ready to take on life (and lots of baby poop), this awkward spinster is still a mess when it comes to the whole – ‘opposite sex is interested in me’ saga. Don’t worry, even I’m surprised at the odd instance that someone likes me – it usually goes tits up though.

 

So in honour of the queen of awkward herself, here are my 10 most Bridget Jones-esque dating moments.

 

  1. “I’ll let you cannulate me.”* A sentence actually sent to me by a male. Yes I had to Google what that meant – a process I was used to within a day of knowing him (the ego bruising of him being smarter really put me off). Yes, he obviously did not yet realise how much I hate bloody and the whole body part thing – neither has my family actually, cue: “Lauren, have you thought about going into nursing?”I don’t know if being a paramedic student makes him seem less weird for saying that… I vote no. And no, I did not end up cannulating him.
  2. After being dropped home from a date, not only did I go for a cheek kiss while he went for a mouth, but I then slapped his thigh, said, “Thanks darl” and ran for my house. No second date was had.
  3. Ex-math-tutors best friend… Cue awkward, “Uh…so… How’s your maths…?” FYI, I still suck at maths. And dating apparently. **
  4.  Someone actually asked me out like this: ***

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  1. I once thought I had been stood up, turns out I had done the standing up as he waited outside my house for two hours whilst my phone was on an accidental airplane mode. Solid effort on his part though, I only waited 30 minutes before I proclaimed him an asshole and changed into pyjamas. Again, no second date.
  2. “Sorry my dad said I can’t date.” Apparently this one doesn’t work quite as well these days…
  3. OMG AM I BLEEDING? Something that should not happen mid-first-kiss. How were his teeth even that far in my mouth? I sincerely hope he’s worked on that one.
  4. My favourite date request of 2015 came from a 38-year-old sales person who had a 13-year-old daughter. Apparently selling vacuum cleaners makes me hotter. At least I could have given her my high school assignments?
  5. The only strip show I’ve ever been to was filled with old hairy men with beer bellies. Thankfully, no willis’ and doodleberries were displayed.
  6. How to flirt with Lauren: aka why I am single and need to think about freezing my eggs…

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Whilst my attempts at dating are quite honestly pathetic and the favourite topic for my friends on wine nights – I still think Bridget takes the cake with the whole “I don’t know who my baby daddy is.” Luckily for her though, neither are ugly, so win win for Bridge, constant state of single for me.

 

PS. Spoilers are not accepted.

 

*Just Google it…. * shudders *

** HE HAD ONLY BEEN HOME FROM EUROPE TWO DAYS WHY GOD.

*** No I did not accept. I told him he was pathetic and to try again.

To volunteer or not to volunteer at a music festival. 

If festival prices have got you down in the dumps I’ve got your saving grace.

This Splendour marked the third camping music festival I had been to, but the first time I’d ever forked over money for the ticket. Some call me smart, my mother calls me crafty, I call myself broke with a serious high-end skin care addiction.

Volunteering allows us shopaholics to have glitter covered boogie like everyone else on your Facebook by doing jobs designed for toddlers in return for a free ticket and camping at said music festival. Continue reading

Mum Vs pop culture, politics and piercings

At the ripe young age of 54, my mother is oozing with both wine and life experience, so naturally she is my source for all things pop culture and life advice. Never one to beat around the bush this feisty lady is about to tell you how it is about the current issues probing our world:

Justin Bieber’s comeback:

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Not sure if “James Cordone” was a nickname or she just can’t spell…

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