I...

Used to adore you.

I always mean to do things on trains. It's a 20 minute ride to and from work, each day. That's a lot of time to catch up on essays. Maybe read the news. I could send all those texts I keep meaning to send, the ones where I tell a friend what I thought upon first viewing their favourite movie. The ones where something funny happened and it made me think of them. The texts saying 'thank you' for walking me through that bad feeling I had the other week. The ones letting them know that even though we haven't talked in ages, I still think of them.

But I don't. I sit down. I hit 'shuffle'. A song comes on and for some reason I *have* to pay attention to it. I have to give it the full dedication it deserves. I have to reprocess each memory and emotion I'd formed for the music, the lyrics. Sometimes I smile, embarrassed at the immature thought processes I once had. At the fantasies I once conjured to get through something: a break up, a fight, boredom, a long run that just wouldn't end. At the memories, silly, sad and loving. I remember driving up the mountain with my best friend. That party where I made a splash and met that guy. That morning with a friend watching Doctor Who. All the same song. So many memories. 

So please know, if life gets in the way. If we move to different places. If you pass. If we fall out. If we fall in or out of love. There is always a song that will remind me of you, that I will give my full attention to.

Happy New Year. 

Breaking My Back Just to Know Your Name

But heaven ain't close in a place like this. 

Writing this because it was amazing and frankly the ending is magnificent and needs to be told.

I was volunteering for a festival, taking details to send out a survey, which is pretty intimidating- walking into a room full of strangers by yourself and making conversation and walking away with emails. It's basically a master class of How to Pick Up. Needless to say I got about 30 contact details (double my target). Anyway, I digress. I was there early, in the band room, and without patrons there I just got all the band members to sign up: enter That Guy. Tall. Broad shouldered. Chatty. Ginger, but that's not the worst thing in the world, and as it turned out, very useful. I make a second round of the room and come back to the main group and there's a bit more chatting before he picks up a guitar and stands in front of a mic. *SWOON* Then, as if my vagina wasn't already activated, at the end of the set it's revealed he's also a FIREMAN. Ugh. 

I left to meet a mate and said bye on the way out. *CUE OPEN PRAYING WE'D MEET AGAIN*

Today, I lamented to a mate of mine that I hadn't seen him since and I clearly needed to get all up on that. I gave her his first name and the name of the artist he was playing with and in under 5 minutes she'd FUCKING FOUND HIM ONLINE. 

Guys. Gingers. They're FUCKING CONNECTED. They can find each other. Ala Vulcans or the Turtles in Rocko's Modern Life. Mind=BLOWN. 

Tidal Waves Don't Beg Forgiveness

Every guy I've dated thus far has enjoyed being with me. They get swept up in my energy and they go along for the ride, much like a ship caught up in a stormy sea. And much like a ship caught in a storm they are weak, and brittle, and eventually the mast is broken and the hull is cracked: the ocean won and the relationship is over.

My idea of romance is to find another sea, someone playful under a wind, violent and dark in a storm and at times eerily calm to roil against for all eternity. I don't care what form that relationship takes, provided they love me in return, provided we are equals.

You Can Never Really See the Top from the Bottom

I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I've got them:

Like my host of amazing friends that I've made up here. Some really quickly like Laura and Candice. Some over time like Chris and Vince. Some older friendships that I renewed like Lana, Ally and Stevie. Some I made randomly that flourished into something else more wonderful. They've all been incredibly wonderful and supportive and I can't fathom the emptiness I would have had to endure had I not met each of them. 

Like the opportunity to work with Triple RRR, Joy, The Human Rights Art and Film Festival, Nite Art, Events Melbourne and Mad Dame. 

Like the opportunity to see some pretty amazing gigs, just because I live *here*. 

So I should probably get over myself. Some things suck right now, like properly, but it's not all bad.

Maybe That's Why Books Get Written...

Maybe that's why songs get sung.

I'm not sure, but I think I still believe in soul mates. Which is a weird concept for me, as I thought the notion was thrown out with Relationship Escalators.

Let Me See You Make Decisions

Without Your Television.

I was sitting at a table of friends, one of whom is married, yet I'm the focus of the sex jokes. Primarily that my diet consists of semen.

I spend a large amount of my waking hours with my friends. I am social like that. So to be told that someone feels like they aren't getting enough attention from me actually hurts.

I have a number of friend requests backed up on a social network that I had no idea about until today. I tell a friend who used a similar situation in a joke recently, and suddenly all of these 'friend requests' are actually just people seeking sex from me.

These are my friends.

These are smart and sophisticated men and women who spend half their time in debate about what constitutes fair behaviour between the sexes, consent, and perception. Yet I've had to bite back on validating myself in each situation. They don't need to be told that I only get laid twice a week, no matter how many boys I'm dating. They don't need to be told that I run myself ragged between work and seeing my friends because both these things are more important to me than sleep. They don't need to be told that I have more to offer than just sex, that I seek friendships before I do relationships, and (see above point) I work my arse off to make sure that everyone knows how important to me they are.

There is no point to this post. I'm just angry and sick and tired and I would love to turn to any of them right now but I'm too offended to.

Tear the Petals off of You

Make you tell the truth.

I have a destructive side to my nature. I don't like it. I've never liked it, but it's always been there. It always manifests in the same way: I want to do something dangerous. I want to put myself in harm's way. Or start a fight. Or say or do something truly nasty. I always want to be dangerous.

I don't, though. I go for a run. Or call a friend. Or draft a blog. Or confront the people who have (in their way)  contributed to that emote.

I think this makes me different. I'm aware of my feelings as I feel them. I'm aware that I could very well go ahead and be destructive, but I don't. I don't want to hurt feelings, intentionally or not. I enjoy the level of trust my friends have in me. I love being the person they think of channeling when in a hard situation. I never, EVER want to destroy that.

I Feel Just Like a Local God When I'm With the Boys

We do what we want. Yeah we do what we want.

*spoiler alert* I *might* be a little bit poly. I know. I know. (First Name) Never Back Down from a Challenge (Surname) they call me. I would also like to point out that the below men were only pursued in friendship, and I expect nothing more and want nothing less.

At the moment I'm playing with my feelings the boundaries they create, and I've found myself in a not so unique position. For the sake of context I shall distinguish the two men as 1 and 2.

I met 1 through a friend of a friend who introduced me to more friends. I clearly outlined in the beginning that our relationship would be platonic only. He agreed and we began. He was lovely and gentle and in the throes of physical intimacy we became emotionally intimate. We have always been very open with each other and in the spirit of that he declared his feelings for me. Which is a shame, as I am a very VERY open person and had clearly demonstrated my fascination with my physical attraction to him as he was clearly not my type *headdesk*. That night and the proceeding few after that were terribly awkward.

Then something amazing happened. Just as I was considering shutting it down, he had the epiphany I was praying for when with an ex of mine: his jealousy and the sadness it caused was associated not with the girl he couldn't have, but with the lack of social life and opportunity he felt he had. Then he did something about it. He became social. He put himself out there. He talked to me about his feelings and experiences and then... He became my first best friend up here.

And I think I love him. It's not romantic. Not in the least. It's the same love I have for my dearest friends back home. I feel safe with him. I can trust him. We chat during the week about things we hear and see and do and I look forward to our time together because I have so many things I want to tell him and get his perspective on, or ask him about his experiences that he told me about. It's weird because I've never made a friend with my vagina before, but it's also terribly lovely. Especially considering he can keep pace with me when I run (unless I sprint, which I can do for a kilometre). He makes me feel happy and safe and cared for.

I met 2 through a friend of friend who introduc... Waiiiit. I picked him up (in one of my smoother moments), took him home and fucked him. Then we chatted and in the interest of pursuing an orgasm (something I rarely do on the first night, which is why I don't enjoy one night stands) I secured another meeting with the boy. By a couple of weeks in (because Openness and Consent) I had to declare *my* feelings.

With a twist. I'm sick of serial monogamy. Every relationship I've been in has had an underlying 'is this it?' feeling underneath. I'm not done. I want to have new experiences, and there is every possibility I may not want to stop having those experiences. My idea of long term monogamy has always included sexual experimentation. So, with his consent, I told him I was interested in continuing our existing friendship so that I could play with my feelings and experiment with my boundaries.

Which has been interesting. Especially of late. We talk about our experiences of the week and we share (or I share, and then I'll pick his brain. Seriously, he's done some interesting things. He's just very Don't Kiss and Tell, whereas I'm very Eh, Its a Common Experience), but he'll say something about being sweet on another girl... And I realise he's not sweet on me. Or I'll feel jealousy that he's sleeping with other girls. Or get paranoid that the things he does with me he does with other women. Which is ridiculous. I don't own his body, why get upset when he does something with it? I have a set of moves that I perform that are natural to me, it makes sense he would as well. The hypocrisy to the feelings I'm feeling is... Ludicrous. I don't own him and he doesn't own me, never mind the fact that 1 and I are still seeing each other. Never mind that I am still actively pursuing other relationships.

When I realised I was having the Bad Feels I immediately resolved to cut it off. Then I realised what I was doing. How do I get to Learn and Grow as a person if I baulk at the first Bad Feeling?

Oh, Again I Wait...

For this to fill the holes.

It's funny how songs jog your memory. I'm on the tram that takes me close to home, and All of This by Blink 182 featuring vocals by Robert Smith comes on.

I remember:

When the album came out, my second boyfriend (and the long term one) played it all the time. He loved Blink and this was the only album of theirs I thought was truly spectacular. Added bonus Robert Smith. There was bonding.

This was on my shuffle in my car probably weeks or days before another ex and I got together. The tension between us was palpable and every word counted and he expressed his love for the song as well.

Another guy (relationship undefined) had invited me to a party, but by the time I'd finished work and gotten there it was winding down. He and all his friends were younger than me, but eventually the conversation turned to music as this song came on. His mate was an avid Cure fan but had failed to recognise Smith's voice and was shocked when I told him.

Currently: I'm sitting on a tram, texting another ex, speaking to an old childhood friend and offering support, after having spent the evening volunteering for a festival and making connections, getting drunk for free and Art Wanking with strangers. 

Sex and the Inappropriate Behaviour

Its that time of year again. Its cold, I'm sick, I've reached an epiphany regarding my dating life and I've started to rewatch all my box sets again. Normally I start strong with Buffy and Battlestar Galactica but this year I thought I'd start with Sex and the City (shut up, if you removed Carrie its a story about three different women who all have real problems and act like adults).

So I'm up to the episode where Carrie is dating the Politician- the one who has the golden shower fantasies. Carrie, then, throughout the entire episode makes fun of him (which we all do, however with more love and disbelief at this situation we've gotten ourselves into, again) and avoids drinking liquids in his presence for comedic effect. At the end of the episode she suggests some alternatives, he gets defensive and makes her feel inadequate about her article and they break up. Then she writes specifically about the issue in her article.

Anyone else hear alarm bells? How is it so hard, at that original conversation, to say that she's just not into golden showers and to discuss alternatives that they can compromise on? Why did she come to him with alternatives without discussing what he actually needed from the sensation first? I have had a similar, although less shower related, request made of me, and although we broke up before I ever became fully comfortable with it, I still asked a lot of questions and tried to figure out what I was comfortable. In true SATC style I'm going to end this in a question. Shouldn't the bedroom be a safe place for open discussion and sexy times?

I'm Not, I'm Not

I'm not the killing type.

I've had a good experience with Polyamory and I've had a bad experience with Polyamory.

I've learnt the same lesson from each experience. The 'open' in Open Relationship means being open emotionally. Omitting details, quashing your feelings and failing to recognise feelings in others have no part in it. It's about consideration and love and OPENESS.

This is Just A Tribute

Tonight I was listening to a music podcast who asked and then gave examples of ways to bond with your social media audience through music. One of the questions asked was 'Do you remember your first?' which for them meant their first album but because I'm fairly sex oriented I thought of my virginity. So I put the question out on Twitter and had a lovely and hilarious conversation with friends. I don't remember if there was music playing the first time I had sex, but I do remember a couple of sessions later, we had finished and were lying together in bed, listening to the radio, and we both heard for the first time Tenacious D's Tribute.

My ex sent me a text a while ago to tell me 'our' song was played on the news. I knew exactly which one he meant, even though we'd never explicitly said what songs made us think of the other. Probably didn't hurt that I would hum it whenever I was with him (it was stuck in my head for a fortnight), but I was touched regardless.

So the two above stories combined and got me thinking about the songs I associate with my past loves.

The First: Without You I'm Nothing - Placebo (from Black Market Music). What can I say? We were teenagers, it was our first big relationship, we were drunk on hormones and the drama they brought. In saying that though it is an incredibly beautiful and sad song. When they released the Molko/Bowie version on  Once More With Feeling I could have died. Tick. Tock.

The Long Haul: The entire Crow Soundtrack (my taste, shut up I was also still a teenager) and the entire self titled Blink 182 effort (his taste, although the Robert Smith collaboration at the end is magnificent, and the song before it with the same melody only sped up is also clever okay shut up I quite loved the album at the time). Clearly we were different people with different views and different ideals and we stayed that way until we broke up. Which is strange because we did love each other at one stage. He's the reason why I don't think common interests is really that big a deal. Provided you agree on the basics, like money and family. *cough* turns out we really didn't agree *cough*

The Sociopath: We didn't actually have a song. I should have seen that as a warning sign. There is something wrong with a man if he can't make me happy enough to sing. So I've just learnt something new. However, after the pain, he did make me very angry, so Nightwish's Bye Bye Beautiful became how I thought of him. Ironically, Nightwish is one of the reason's we became friends in the first place. When they debuted the first song off Imagenarium on the radio we rocked out in his car, and we were so caught up with each other that first week we were together we failed to realise that Imagenarium had been released in full.

The Stoner: This is embarrassing- I can't think of the title of the song or the name of the band- but it was an acoustic guitar and a scratchy rough voice and somehow it was very punk and whenever I think of the tune I can immediately smell cheap wine and weed and tobacco. He was lovely and I feel very bad for using him the way I did.

The Adulterer: It may have been short lived (like, incredibly) but we bonded over Michael Jackson and Prince, and he would send me lyrics from Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel.

The (Redacted): Do You Hear the People Sing? In my defence it was a very fun and silly time. We'd decided to meet again and he'd invited me to a DVD viewing of the worlds worst play. I realised I was going into a room entirely filled with strangers and had a mild panic attack in the car, drank a lot of alcohol very quickly and started insulting his friends once the show was over. Because they were all theatre geeks at some stage the night devolved into watching a million different videos of Les Mis and I poured water into his mouth as he'd fallen asleep beside me. So now I think of Angry Men whenever I see him.

The (Also Redacted): I Wonder by Rodriguez, for obvious and not so obvious reasons. He sung the song to me one morning and it stuck in my head. Then I downloaded it and listened to it about a million times. He'd told me about how Rodriguez was a cult icon back home and about the movie Search for Sugarman. I'd joked about the first people to like my FB statuses were either past or present lovers, and he in a rare moment of vulnerability said that's why he consciously didn't look at those likes, because it was something he didn't want to deal with. Then he asked how many men I was seeing at the time. I told him and he kissed my waist and our previous lighter conversation continued. And I realised that I was one of the many women that Rodriguez sung about, and that maybe someone thought of me when they heard a song. A touch narcissistic I know, but for all my bravado I don't let myself think that kind of thing often. 

Losing You- Solange

I hate it when a film clip doesn't match the mood of the song. Solange's (Beyonce' much cooler younger sister) Losing You is a fantastic example (you'll have to look it up yourself as I fail at ctrl c/ctrl v and embedding).

I love this song. I've listened to it A LOT. I listened to this on a solo rotation for the last half of February and the first half of March. Then I watched the film clip. Its filled with hipster faff. Yes, her outfits are cute but they are exactly too on trend for the moment. Cycling and driving around the streets is too reminiscent of every other hipster clip out there. Together it vaguely evokes Ryan Lewis and Macklemore's Thrift Shop film clip. The only part of the clip I found that matched the song was how she's in the community, the car, the street, the container, but she doesn't interact. She's off to the side and moves out of the way. THAT matches the lyrics.

What I would have done differently: Well. Everything. Matte black room, her in the centre, yellow cocktail dress with 70's wings. Hair in a low bun. I'd keep the red lipstick. Two lights just behind creating a subtle silhouette, but enough light on her that you can still clearly see her. Then she dances a lonely choreography that changes at the chorus before she goes onto repeat it for the repeated verses. *This* is lonely, and simple. Which is what the song is about. She's still with the man but has realised he's not there any more, but hasn't cut the ties, and she's realised she has too and clearly I empathise with the song too much I'll shut up now.

The In Between is Mine.

I Am Mine.

I've learnt a lot about myself this year. I probably should have by now, we're nearly half way through. I've learnt that flirting isn't that hard. I've learnt that if I want sex I can just ask. Something really beautiful happened with my body confidence last year that only increased this year. I no longer care what the guy I'm with thinks my body looks like. I watch their faces and they don't care outside of there being a naked woman bouncing on their balls. In fact I no longer care. I don't just ask for what I want, I tell them.

I've learnt that I am not a polyamorist. I've learnt that I have limits that I can't surpass and some that I don't want to. But I've also learnt that if I want to trust I can ask for what I need to do that. I've gotten confidence in other areas- I know I'm not crazy and I know my thoughts, feelings and reactions are valid. I've learnt that I can talk to the men in my life. I've learnt that I'm not the common denominator to a string of bad choices. That each of these men are going through their own things and I've been something different to each of them.

I know I want to be in love. That has never changed. I haven't been in love for years now and I'm certain that when I feel it again it will be different just like the first two times. I know I can talk to strangers. I know if I want something I can work for it. I regained my work ethic almost overnight. I've learnt that I know how to network. That I can make connections. That I can do things I've never done before and with work can be good at it.

I've learnt that people love me. That I can rely on some like I've never done so before. I've learnt that I can be me and still be wanted. I've learnt that I'm an eye opener to some and that other's like me for who I am. I've learnt that asking the hard questions is me. I've learnt that I need to feel appreciated.

And I do.

Hey!

Been dyin' to meet you!

I've got the time tattooed on my wrist. It's permanently five minutes to four in my world. I got it to represent my family- my mother and sister- *before* they pass. I'm not ashamed of why I got it. The story behind it is dark and not something a lot of people have had to deal with or want to know- which is something I've learnt. What happened has stopped being a right of passage in my broken little world and started being something that I no longer have to tell people so that they can understand what makes me *me*. I'm a special snow flake like everyone else.

I Was Alone

Falling free, trying my best not to forget.

What happened to us, what happened to me, and our one heroic pledge.

I have depression. It's new, as in just this last year. It's horrible. I've seen a doctor and been prescribed anti depressants. I continue to exercise on a daily basis. I eat well and avoid any kind of binge eating/drinking. I can't sleep.

I faked being happy and sociable all day at work. It left me mentally exhausted and I didn't want to talk to my friends or family at the end of the day. I felt like I couldn't talk to my friends or family about it, and I'd lost that dependence I've always had for myself, that ability to always back myself. I felt like I have no one and its the loneliest place to be.

I don't have a reason for it either. I know why it began. The seeds were planted and for some reason instead of figuring it out and dealing with my feelings I just let it fester and grow. Then life got in the way and things happened, as they are wont to do, and I found I was suddenly unable to deal with my life. Me. ME. I couldn't understand why, after some pretty horrendous experiences, why I could not deal with or work through some really basic problems. I was even able to counsel friends in similar positions but was unable to let go of my own problems.

So I was miserable. I moped. I stayed at home. I stopped playing music. I stopped reading. I stopped studying. I felt like a failure and just stayed in bed. I didn't move. I felt like I couldn't, that my sadness was overwhelming me and I couldn't even lift the blanket that I was under. I prayed for sleep just so I didn't have to feel and when I woke I would stay in bed until my body fell into a deep nothingness for an hour. I'd do that several times until I simply wasn't going to sleep anymore. So I ran. Till I was exhausted. And repeated the process. I hated being awake but I couldn't distract myself for my thoughts. I still can't. But I will, I'm working on it.

I now understand how insurmountable depression is. That it's constant, it's always on and the negativity comes in waves. I think I'm fine and get through most of the day, then all of a sudden a panic attack creeps up on me and I'm miserable for the rest of the day.

I'm better now. I know it's not going to end, but I really wish it would.

She speaks, she breathes.

I wanna be Kate!

I've moved. Quit my job and moved interstate. I live on the couch of a friend who is (and I am ever thankful for) trading house work for my room and board. I am applying for jobs left right and centre. Dream jobs. Less than dream jobs. Jobs I wouldn't really be happy to take but will enthusiastically just for an INCOME. I had such plans for my unemployment. I'd wake. I'd run. I'd have a nutritious breakfast. I would split my day into Selection Criteria in the mornings and basic applications in the afternoons. Instead I've been hit with a heat wave and lowered self esteem at the sheer amount of things I do not have experience in.

My friend put me in touch with her Industry friend (Industry is used here in place of Dream Job) who pointed me in the right direction and like a Red Setter I was OFF and applying! BANG! ... Except that I stuffed up my log in for one of the sites and now I can't view all that tantalising 'New Jobs' and 'Volunteer Opportunities' information. However she did give me some other tips and tricks which I shall deploy tomorrow, so that'll be exciting.

I miss my family and friends (old and new) but I've already joined and DnD campaign (and thankfully picked it back up quicker than I thought I would). We played through three encounters including the introduction of my character - an Orc Cleric called Felicia who previously bullied the Dwarf Cleric Zeus whilst in training. They're more encounter based than role play based (in that its not structured, however our jibes are counted as role play, so AWESOME). Our female Dark Elf Sorceress is a bloke called Vince- who it turns out LIFTS BRO so we talked weights and diets and he even knows about slow and fast twitch muscles so woo!  I now have new inspiration for dieting and working out. Even though I can't afford a gym yet.

I've met another bloke who introduced me to a bunch of his friends (who were EVEN COOLER than he was, much to the original guys chagrin) and we caught a gig. Here I am talking about shit and being silly/offensive, dropping the c-bomb and THEN I find out that one of them is a Federal cop. LOL.

I've then gotten lost at least three times and have had a trial by fire on the public transport system. So at least my life is still exciting. Its not the immediate success I was optimistically hoping it would be, but it's not bad.

How'd I Ever End Up Here?

Must be through some lack of kindness.

I've had two Summer Flings in my short existence.

The first was so dismally bad I considered killing myself.

The second has been so wonderfully pleasant that I feel like the last dregs of Broken Kate may have been karmic-ly flushed from my system like some delightful warm brew.

I'd forgotten what Happy-Just-'Cause felt like.

Top Albums

If I'm doing movies I should definitely do albums. All my reasons as personal but it doesn't mean you shouldn't check them out anyway.

Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra: Theatre is Evil.

This formative album came at a formative time for me. The last year has not been hell, but it was unrelentingly bad. I mean the kind of year that starts off poorly, then you see Prince. Then the high wears off and a friend gets into a car accident leaving his partner, toddler and still baking baby alone. Then a close friend decides to tear you a new one for something trivial. Then you do something unknowingly but so reprehensible that the shame doesn't leave you for months but oh, does that anger fester at your fast declining reputation. And all the while, bubbling under every little up and down is a panic attack. Lurking. Waiting for things to get just that little bit worse. Theatre is Evil empathised with all of those emotions (with added bass!) but amongst the darkness is this certain level of hope, either conveyed in the lyrics or the music, that just lifts you up. It made me think of people I hadn't thought of in years, of their actions and mine, and I've got to be honest, it's gotten me over a few hurdles in this short time it's been out.

Stand out tracks: The Killing Type and Grown Man Cry.

HIM: Screamworks: Love in Theory and Practise.

This album for me is a return to happier times. I was a year behind in listening to this one. By the time I'd gotten to it I was running in my lunch breaks, it was summer and the sun was beating down on me as I beat down on the riverside track on the edge of town. It reminds me of summer rain, the positive changes I was making in my life, achieving my goals and a general happiness which for months just stayed with me. I was excited about life. My love of this album is also two fold as I'd just recently discovered my friend Lanny loved HIM too, so I gave her a copy of the album and for weeks we talked about the songs and the film clips. I miss Lanny, but we have phone dates.

Stand out tracks: Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness and Love the Hardest Way.


Romeo + Juliet

This compilation came out in 1996, but as I was 10 I didn't get onto it until sometime later (I was still in the throes of pop idolisation, a trend my mother sorely misses). Once again, this was a formative album for me. This was my jumping off point into the Alternative Rock genre which I still passionately love today. In one collection we have The Butthole Surfers, Radiohead, Garbage and Everclear. You also have the drama, colour and pace of (what I deem) Baz Luhrman's best film backing up the sour desperation and empty unrelenting anger of the songs. Even just *listening* this soundtrack is made of stunning visuals as you re-imagine Luhrman's Manchua. Des'ree's Kissing You will always make me cry, not shed-a-tear cry but proper sob-openly and wholly. It's crushing and it breaks you.

Stand out tracks: I honestly can't pick just one, like a child I love this album in its entirety for how it makes me feel.


More to come.

Why Don't You Talk To Me?

Why don't you talk to me?

Come say it to my face so we can leave this place. Why don't you talk to me?

So last years resolutions were the standard variations on the old staples: Lose Weight, Run Faster, Save Money. There was also the silent goal to Not Accidentally Kill Myself and the not so silent get everything in order to move to Melbourne. Well, what do you know? I survived my depression (but kept the increasingly awesome Panic Disorder)! I paid off my debts (but have $90 in my savings)! I completed a half marathon (but my sprint remains at a max of 14kmph for short spans)! I achieved my first goal weight (and maintained it for the year- without losing any more)!

I know, lofty heights right? 

This year I've really thought it through: I've got the standard variations of the old staples: Run more half marathons, lay the ground work for a marathon, save to travel and become some kind of bendy yoga goddess. My silent goals are to get my life in some kind of order to have a child in the coming years.

Guys, this might be the year I start to grow up.

I even flossed this evening.