Goodbye 2012, hello 2013

Well my Golly Gosh, the end of 2012 is knocking on our door and it is time to take a look back on the year and see if I managed to achieve my goals that I set out for myself. You can find these here. So here it is 

My main Goal for this year was to get better with my money, this one is a bit of a tricky one. See I really tried hard and whilst I stopped spending money on shit that I didn't need, I continued to be generous with my money and I have realised that this is where the majority of my cash goes. So Maybe for 2013  I need to cut down on being nice (Legit I haven't bought any new kicks in the 6 months that I have been in Melbourne. This is a monetary achievement!!!!!!). I have come to the end of 2012 poorer than I was at the start but if I look back at to what I have achieved and where I am now I guess that's not such a bad thing. And with my new job I am on track to be making all of the monies to buy all of the things

Next on my Agenda was becoming a Better Friend. I guess this is one that I cant actually judge myself and you would need to ask my friends but I am going to say that I achieved this one as well. I left my home state mid year and had to start the road of making new friends again. I will admit that a fair few of my friends dropped off the face of the planet when I moved, I guess it is very much out of sight out of mind. I have tried very hard to keep in contact with people though and have tried as hard as I could to let people know that I am thinking about them and that they mean something to me. This isn't always the easiest thing to do but I am trying. I am of a strong belief now that to have better friends you need to be a better friend. I am now laughing at the people that complain about all their friends being "shit mates" because I look at the way they treat their friends and I am not surprised. Atleast I have come to the end of 2012 being sure in myself that I have made the effort 

I didn't really achieve one of my goals and that was to keep my opinions to myself. Sure I tried and I tried very hard BUT I guess I am just not good at being quiet. I have redirected the way that I give my opinion though, I normally start the sentence with "Would you like to hear the way that I see  it?". Possibly giving my opinion though is not a bad thing and people may actually value it. I have people asking me for my view on situations all the time so while maybe I didn't achieve it this may not be such a bad thing. 

There is a word that most guys are scared of and I will admit that I am scared of this word as well and that word is commitment. One of my goals for 2012 was to Commit to what ever it was that I was doing, to make up my mind of something and run with it. Well this one gets a big giant Yes tick for achievement. I sit on my couch in Melbourne writing this blog with a smile on my face because I actually stuck to something. I made the decision to move here and had said that I would give it a go until atleast Christmas before I made up my mind on staying here, we are now past Christmas and I cant see myself going home any time soon. It took a lot of courage to come here and stay here but I committed and conquered, all of the in between now seems irrelevant 

So am I happy with 2012? well I guess the answer to that one is yes, I committed, I grew, I loved, I lost and I came through the other side of it feeling good about myself and the things that I had achieved. 2012 was some what of a selfish year for me, I put myself first and didn't try and get affected by what was going on with everyone else or let the way that they saw things change my direction in life. I have come to this point with probably less friends than I started the year with but I am ok with this because the friends that I have are actually true friends and don't forget me even if I am not around all the time. I may not be rich but I am starting to become successful, I have changed states and changed careers and my life is on a new path, so yeah 2012 was pretty awesome and gosh darn I am looking forward to 2013 because I have a feeling its going to be amazing 

Love and Commitment 

Miss K 

P.S I had a bit of a giggle when I read back over my post from the start of the year, in it I mentioned adventures with Bearded Men and there was infact a bearded man that helped with my success in 2012, I owe him more than he probably realises. He showed me love and how I deserved to be treated and he made a hard decision that enabled me to get to where I am now. I will always thank him for ending our relationship because if he didn't I would most likely be back in Perth and not living my life the way that I should. So to my bearded green eyes man, I Thank You from the bottom of my heart. 

Things to look forward to....

So Merry Festivus has rolled around again and as I now reside on the other side of the Country I was thinking that I would be spending my first Christmas Sans Family, but as my dad is the generous type he decided to shout me a ticket to come home for a few days. I was chatting with my house mate who is from Queensland and is heading home as well and she said that she is most looking forward to "Spooning with my cat". She is a bit of a crazy cat lady but we love her none the less and this comment got me to thinking about what I am most looking forward to coming home to, so I guess here is a short list

My hair dresser - I have been seeing the same hair dresser my whole life, the idea of getting my hair did by anyone else was some what traumatising for me, I am well overdue to get my hair done but had been putting it off due to anxiety (even after calling her to get the colours that she uses and her saying that the new hair dresser could call her if she wanted to). Anxiety gone and pretty hair to boot

Eating a Burger from Alfreds  - this one pretty much goes without saying, if you haven't been to Alfreds then your life is deficient. Probably in more ways that you can imagine. They have this thing called the Alfreds special, its about as big as my head and twice as delicious. I am yet to find anything that even compares

And probably while we are on it I should also mention that I am excited for Uncle Billies Chinese and probably Dragon Palace Dim Sum, they do dumplings here but its just really not the same 

Drinking Cocktails at 1907  - its tried and tested. Straight up you order a Passionfruit and Vanilla Martini and a Norma Jean, after that the world is pretty much at your feet. Who wouldn't want to be a part of that 

Having the weather, be the weather -  I love the 'Burn, I really really do but I don't really enjoy the Bipolar weather. I am looking forward to looking at the weather App and knowing that what they say is what we will get. Even if it is extreme heat. Bring it

Seeing how much the kids have grown  - being away I miss my cousins and my friends babies growing up. Its been 6 months since I have seen most of them, I can only imagine how much that have grown and all the new things that they have learnt (please do not read this as me being clucky because that shits got knobs on it)

Sleeping in my Old House - Its really about the little things, its being somewhere safe and familiar and knowing that people you love and who love you are right there. Pretty sure that my Hippy Ex Housemate will be pretty happy to see me as well. 

and last but most certainly not least (this is probably number one) 

Having Proper Hugs - I knew how busy I would be when I got into Perth so I spent a bit of time organising to catch up with the people that mean the most to me. These are people that help me get through my days and the give the most amazing healing hugs in the world. Real hugs which are tight and you put everything into. This is what I am most looking forward to 

I am about to board that flying car with wings, so Perth Seeya on the Flip Side 

Love and Turbulence 

Miss K 

Fist Pumps and High Fives?

So casual sex hey? Like it or hate it, it exists and it can be the cause of many laughs and many awkward moments. To me a one night stand is simply that, you build a "relationship" with a person, have some time with them and then be on your way into the horizon to never see them again.  During a conversation that I had this week, it would appear that one of my friends doesn't actually know this is the lay of the land

 I guess we could call him a nice guy, he believes in the good of people when sometimes maybe there is actually no good to give. He was away travelling and met a lovely girl in a hotel bar and they began to share their life stories, they talked for a few hours and one thing led to another and they ended up back at her hotel room, there was a bit of hand holding and polite conversation and after this was done she asked him to leave so that her friend could come back. For most normal people the story would have ended there... right? Right, but not if you are my mate. He knew that the girl was checking out of her hotel the next day so he got on his scooter and headed back at check out time to say goodbye. He showed up in the lobby and hung around to say goodbye until they left. It wasn't until a few days later when she emailed him to ask why he came back that he may have got an inkling that his actions were some what amiss. I asked him why he had gone back and he said simply "I was just being polite"

When did politeness have a place in casual sex? What he did wasn't polite, it was just creepy. If they ask you to leave, it means that they want you to leave, they probably don't want you to come back the next the day to have a polite conversation and talk about the weather. I was always of the opinion that I wore the pants in the house hold. He was always about the cuddling and the loving whilst I was about the loving and leaving (and by loving I don't mean Loving, I mean do your hand holding then get the fuck out of my house so I can sleep)

I guess there is always the question surrounding one night stands that hangs over your head, do you bother with the phone number? I guess its some what polite to exchange pleasantries and say "I'll call you" but in reality is this not just a waste of time and some what of a false hope? In my experience they are generally terrible drunken intimacies that you would not want to replicate so why bother? Sometimes having the non chalant attitude towards adult relations can have its draw backs though, sometime things can happen where a phone number will come in handy or make thinks less awkward.

A few years ago on a trip to Tokyo I managed to come across an American Marine in a Dodgy little bar and being the filthy stop out that I was back then (because I am of the opinion that if it happens on holidays it doesn't actually really count) he some how managed to end up in my hotel room with me and we got adult. In the morning I did the right thing and walked him to the train station so he could find his way back to where ever it was that he had to go. On arriving at the station he asked for my number, I was flattered I really was, but I declined as I was "leaving Tokyo that afternoon" (which may not have actually been the case because in reality  I was leaving in another three days) but I was fairly certain that I would not see him again as I knew he only got one night off a week. It was to be the perfect crime...

Well you can imagine my surprise when two days later I was at the same drinking establishment when who happened to walk in but Mr Marine with a lovely looking lady *coughmancough* on his arm. See most people would have been embarrassed that they had lied to someone and been caught out but really I wasn't. I once again was in the position of power here, I was there looking amazingly gorgeous and he was there with a Tranny. Being the kind friendly person that I am, I walked over to him, said Hello and asked how his night was going? He looked embarrassed and then disappeared. Wonder why that was?

There was an experience recently that would have been better handled if we actually had exchanged numbers. Same old story, beer + Kerry = Adventure and I ended up spending the night at a gentleman's house (but we weren't intimate as his junk was unable to function). In the morning when all was said and done and the taxi was on its way I didn't bother with the false pretence of offering up my number. I casually picked up my stuff, headed to the door and fist bumped him on the way out. This in itself was cool, I knew that we wouldn't be seeing each other again, I had no desire to do the dance of lies and he wasn't really worth my effort (don't get me wrong, my standards had not dropped at all and he was gorgeous). The fist bump was kinda a condolence of "hey, your junk malfunctioned. Apparently that happens. Unlucky".

See that should have been the end of it, What made me change my mind on the no number guise was a few days later when I was sitting at work and realised that my very expensive, very sentimental diamond earring was missing. I tried not to panic and all through the day kept reassuring myself that my earring would be found in my bed. I got home and the search began... and sadly the earring did not show up. In reality there was only one place that it could be, but I had no way of finding out. Yeah I even tried the facebook stalking, but with no results. I guess I could go back to his house, casually knock on the door and be all like "hey so umm have you seen my earring" but really, we all know that one night stands mean one night and you have to expect some casualties of war eventually... we all know this right?

Sometimes I get worried about how easy this whole casual sex thing has become, I wonder how much of my soul has been destroyed from all of the terrible experiences with boys. I have a feeling that it is like a defence mechanism, the more I turn myself off the easier it is to save myself from being hurt. The longer they hang around the more likely I am to have to actually talk to them and really we all know that talking gets us no where. I guess there is always an exception to every rule and sometimes something catches us off guard and really I am not an exception to this rule. Mine came in the form of a tall green eyed bearded man, I went into it with the intention that it would be just some adult time between two adults and before I knew it I was in over my head. Lets just say it didn't end well for me... lesson learnt. Maybe I will make them take me out for dinner first next time... or ban myself from drinking

So the number, do you or don't you? I might go with maybe because it sure as hell beats a missing earringed tranny in a hotel lobby 

Love and Layings 

Miss K 

P.S I know that people probably think I am a terrible person (for probably more reasons than is listed in this post) but to my defence I didn't give the Marine my number because 1. He had a very annoying American accent that kinda made me want to punch him in the face (I didn't realise this until the beer haze wore off and the spell that his muscles had me under was gone) and 2. he had a dodgy Jap Eye.... instead of being where it should be it was on the bottom like a recorder.... that shit whack YO!!!!!

P.P.S Having a dodgy Jap Eye is actually a pretty common problem and its called Hyperspadia, it is normally fixed at a young age so its not a cosmetic issue later in life. I understand its a common problem, but it was in fact the first time (and only time) that I have encounted it. I probably wrote home about it and laughed about it a little bit 

P.P.P.S I totally wouldn't have sex with me, because I would probably make fun of myself and tell all my friends about me being a dud or the like. I guess this is a warning to guys. I can do a one night stand like no ones business but it doesn't mean I will keep my mouth shut about your junk. If its funny, be prepared to be fodder to my writing.... thems just the breaks 

P.P.P.P.S Its just a number, judge me if you will. But he without sin shall cast the first stone?

No Food is safe....

I have long thought that my parents didn't feed me when I was young because I always get so excited about food, and not just a little excited but excited to the point that every thought I have revolves around food and what I am going to put in my mouth next. This has forced me to come to realise something \and I am sure it is something that other people knew previously but its maybe taken me a bit longer to catch on (but if I am honest I guess I always had my suspicions). Drunk Kerry is a bad person, Drunk Kerry takes things that aren't hers and Drunk Kerry eats other peoples food straight out of their hands. How did this happen? When did I become this way? If it was an isolated incident then maybe I can forgive myself but its happens more often than is normal. Is there a rehab for serial food eaters? So here they are,  the good, the bad and the delicious

Clear white Liquid

The first incident of culinary ninjaring that I can remember happened outside of Australian Waters so possibly may not even count, it was around 3am on a busy Japanese Club street in Roppongi, I was walking between clubs and stumbled upon a group of guys standing out the front of a Familymart with Bowls of clear soup with "bits" in it. Like a curious puppy Drunk Kerry wandered up to them and enquired as to what they were eating. On being told, Drunk Kerry took the chop sticks from the mans hand and helped myself to some white tube thing that was floating in his soup. All three of the guys laughed, I handed back my chopsticks and kept walking. I don't think they knew what hit them and I certainly cant remember what it was that I ate (or if I liked it)

Roads Closed Pizza Boy

Pizza and Kebabs are normal drunken peoples choice food (or maybe its not choice but more so convenience) and this is great, because Drunken Kerry likes these things as well. Possibly not to eat all on her own but she is more than willing to share other peoples. On walking from The Deen to Voodoo Lounge one night I spied a Gentleman standing out the front of one of the late night Pizza shops with a delicious looking pizza in his hand. Drunk Kerry remarked "Pizza", he held it out in my direction so naturally I went to it, opened my mouth and took a bite. Apparently he had been trying to pull it back towards himself but I didn't want him to feel ashamed for being an Indian giver so I stayed committed to the cause. 

Dumplings to you Explode?

I met a Swedish guy the other night at a Melbourne Bar by the name of Victor, he was new to town and we chatted for a while. After many beers we decided that we were hungry and I suggest that we headed to the All You Can Eat Dumpling house next door from the bar. We sat down amd were the told the terrible news that you needed at least three people before you could have the all you can eat. My poor little heart sunk as I begrudgingly ordered off the menu and we waited for our food to come out. As you can imagine, it was hard going for me especially seeing everyone else getting the all you can eat dumplings and me having only a meagre 4 choices. Drunk Kerry would not stand for this. It just so happened that the table next to us was occupied by three young lads who were happily indulging in all you can eat Dumplings and talking of Politics. Luckily Drunken Kerry knows politics so on joining in their conversation I then started to help myself to their food. I managed to acquire a few things before they noticed, they laughed at my tenacity and we cheersed with our Spring Rolls (or theirs, it was actually all theirs). 

You want fries with that?

Probably the most recent bout of Food "Sharing" happened last Friday night after exiting the Bridge Hotel in Richmond. Drunk Kerry wanted a servo pie but was told that this would be a bad idea and Maccas would be better. Drunk Kerry got a lamb wrap of her own but was not satisfied by this and saw a man sitting with a cheeseburger. Drunk Kerry loves cheeseburgers so she sauntered over to the gentleman, bent down and took a bite out of his burger before standing up, cheekily wiping the sauce from her mouth while holding his eye contact (and if I am honest, he pulled out another cheese burger so I went back for round two. I did share my snakes with him though so it all comes out in the wash)

Its funny how all that drunken Kerry's thinks about is food (with a second thought to men) because one of Drunk Kerry's other favourite tricks is not eating. So this is the way it normally goes down, Drunk Kerry is starving, she knows exactly what she wants (generally Uncle Billies Chinese) and she must be taken there no matter at what costs. On arriving she will order one of each of her favourite dishes (Sang Far Chicken, Fish and Snow Peas, Chili Pepper Squid, Mixed Vegetables and steamed rice) and impatiently sit around until the food Comes. On the food arriving she will have two mouthfuls and proudly declare that she is full. Drunken Kerry is lucky that she has a drunken Best friend that puts up with this and will eat her share. 

I was just chatting with my house mate and she said that whilst Drunk Kerry's habits are a little bit strange its not all that bad because Drunken Kerry always make sure that she shares what she has as well. I guess you could call me Jesus, I break the bread to feed the hordes (or the fat chic at Maccas who took the most giant Bite out of my Lamb Wrap). As I said back in my first post all those months ago, life is about the people that you meet, and I sure as hell wouldn't meet as many people if they didn't have food that I wanted to eat. So maybe Drunk Kerry isn't so bad after all. You have been giving fair warning, if you have food and drunk Kerry is around, no one is safe.

I guess it just goes to show, with a bit of commitment anything can be possible. The common thread through all of this is the food and the eye contact. People aren't expecting it so if you keep eye contact with them the whole time, its more acceptable. Right? 

Love and Mastication 

Miss K 

P.S Mastication means chewing you filthy sicko

P.P.S I shall suggest that you pick your bites wisely friends, these things can really go either way. Some people may get cross at you helping yourself to their food so look for the crazy in their eye before you open your mouth

Ways to Fck up Important Situations

Whilst being the life of the party recently (translated, sharing witty anecdotes about myself to anyone that would listen)  it came to my attention that I have an uncanny knack of making important situations into hilarious disasters but really, I look at it as being a great way to break the ice. Important situations need an injection of fun as well right? And maybe also an element of apology. So here they are, my admissions and my apologies 

One of my first jobs when I was younger was working at the Greyhounds, I was there for about 5 years and ended up being a supervisor towards the end (good things come to those who work hard, or suck up maybe?) and on this one evening after a extremely large race it was my job to drive one of Australia's dogs and his trainer to the airport so they could head on their merry way home. This dog had preformed extremely well so as a reward I was asked to stop into McDonald's so that its owner could treat it with a soft serve and a cheeseburger (I shit you not) and then disaster struck.. 

I had only been driving for a few years and had never driven an Automatic. I was given a work issue Wagon and away we went. After collecting our food I went to pull out into traffic and had to brake before moving off so as procedure states I put my foot on the "Clutch" and the Brake to bring the car to a halt (clearly for those in the know Automatics don't have clutches). We stopped very sharply and the poor little pooch that had been happily sitting on the back seat came flying through the front seats and promptly smashed his little face into the windscreen. I have deduced that in my effort to touch both the brake and the imaginary clutch, both my feet contacted the brake pedal causing the car to lurch suddenly. I was mortified and immensely apologetic, I was certain that I had hurt the dog but thankfully he just wagged his tail and looked at me happily (thankfully Greyhounds are the happiest dogs on the planet) and his owner laughed. We got to the airport without further incident and I have never been so happy to get something out of my car then at that moment. I never followed the dogs career after that... I wonder how he went. 

Mr Greyhound Dog, I apologise for smashing your face into the Windscreen and potentially ruining your racing career

I was looking at changing jobs because I was getting a bit sick of mine so decided to go in and visit a recruitment agent to get some further career advise. The day of the interview rolled around, I had on my best work suit and was primped and preened ready to go. I some how managed to break my thumb nail (I had acrylic nails at the time) and didn't have time to go and get it repaired. I had a brainwave and thought I would sneakily glue it back on with super glue to get me through the interview looking presentable. This is a brilliant fool proof plan and I have done it many times since, but then disaster struck...

I rocked up for my interview and all was going well, we shook hands, we went through my resume and had a lovely old chat about the future of my working life. As our chat was drawing to a close we got up to leave the room and on going to push the chair in my nail got caught on the back of the chair and snapped. This in itself wouldn't have been so bad if the now broken nail hadn't snapped off with such force that it got air born and hit the consultant in the face. I was mortified and wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. The consultant was very good about it, she picked it up and handed the broken bit back to me and showed me the door. Funnily enough I never ended up getting a job through them, I cant figure out why though. 

Miss Interview Consultant Lady, I am sorry for flicking my acrylic nail into your face whilst trying to impress you. I forgive you for not getting me a job 

A few years ago I was seeing this guy for a few months (if you can really call it that), we had been friends for years and some how managed to hook up (even though I had told myself I wouldn't sleep with him). It was just one of those easy agreements where we would hook up every now and again, hang out and just be cool with each other. This arrangement ended when I met the army brat and we were both cool with this because we knew the score so neither of us were overly affected by it. After the break up with the army brat I decided that it might be important to get back on the "horse" so to say. For comfort reasons I gave my old mate a call to see if he wanted to go out for dinner. We ended up wining and dining and heading back to his house. I remember saying to him that I might cry but he laughed off my warning. But then disaster struck...

We had fallen asleep briefly and on waking up we started kissing and one thing moved onto another, inside my head I was filled with a deeply anguished burning pain but kept telling myself that I needed to do this in order to get over the Brat. I keep reciting to myself "you are ok, you can do this, you are ok, you can do this", but sadly this didn't really have the affect that I had wanted. The Boy remarked to me that I could smile a bit and that was the end of it, whilst he was still "connected" to me I started to cry. And I am ashamed to say that it wasn't just a little cry but uncontrollable crying. I chocked out "just keep going, I'm fine" but understandably he decided he wasn't up for it and stopped. I sat in his shower for about half an hour afterwards crying my heart out and when I got out we made a deal to never sleep together again and I can announce that we have stuck to it. 

Mr Man, I am sorry that I damaged your man hood by crying uncontrollably while we were having intimate relations. I promise to never flash my vagina at you again 

My mother is an artist and as such does lots of craft fairs and markets to pedal her wares. While I lived in Perth I helped her out at the bigger shows because whilst I could not actually walk the walk I sure as hell was good at talking the talk. One of the biggest shows that we do is the UpMarket which is at Winthrop Hall at UWA (you should all look it up and head along to it if you get the chance. They are awesome markets and have delicious foods). This one day, it was busy and I was under the weather. I had a lovely little cough burgeoning inside my chest which felt the need to escape at regular intervals. I would always excuse myself, turn around and cough and then go back to my serving. This was all working like clock work until a nice lady asked me if I was ok. And then disaster struck...

There is a very well respected women doctor in the suburbs around my old house that has a waiting list as long as my arm and who doesn't take new patients very often. I was lucky enough to get a registration and score an appointment with her to go and get my lady needs tendered to. This turned out to be the lady that had enquired as to my health. When she asked me if I was ok, I laughed and replied in my usual joking fashion "yes, yes I'm fine, just a nasty case of the herpes". She got a shocked look on her face and smiled awkwardly and walked off. It was when she had gone that my mum told me who she was. I was mortified, I had an appointment with her that week so she could tender my garden!!!! and I had just jokingly told her that I had herpes. I ended up cancelling my appointment and going to see another doctor. Whilst I didn't have herpes (and still don't) my Garden was so embarrassed that it just couldn't show its face to her. 

Mrs Lady Parts Doctor, I am sorry I made a joke about having herpes which caused me to cancel my appointment with you. I hope you didn't have any difficulty in filling my spot 

Through the use of hilarity and embarrassment, life has taught me lessons

1. There are no clutches in Automatic Cars 

2. Glueing your broken fake nail back together isnt a pearler of an idea 

3. Crying during sex is a real downer ( in more ways than one) 

and finally 

4. Jokes about Herpes, may not actually be fully 

She is a cruel mistress this thing called experience 

Love and Herp-d-herps 

Miss K 

How Hanson saved my Confidence...

With the dawning of the sun on a bright new day, memories have come flooding back to me like an incoming tide. Last night, well she was a good one. A bar on the other side of town, lines like "hey I'm from WA" and free booze out the wazoo (peppered with Martinis) it was destined to be a success. But there was one thing stopping us... My Confidence. There are times in every girls life when they probably don't feel as good about life as they should and at the moment I am feeling that I am in one of those slumps. Try as I may I have not been able to snap myself out of it, well that is, until last night.

I was casually sitting in a booth, having adult conversations and keeping to myself (please read talking excitedly to random people) when I heard strains of a familiar song emitting from the dance floor, could I be hearing correctly, could it be? YES, It was. With the speed and grace of a startled Gazelle I jumped from my seat just in time to make the dance floor to belt out "You have so many relationships in this life, only one or two will last". Yes you heard right, I was at a classy drinking establishment and they were in fact playing Hanson and you bet your bottom dollar that I got my groove on to it.

There has been much conjecture as to the viability of Hanson as musical greats, and right here and right now I would like proclaim loudly for once and for all, HANSON WILL SAVE THE WORLD. As you can imagine (though I think rather wrongly) people tend to give you strange looks when you are 29 and cutting shapes and singing Hanson at the top of your lungs and it was while this was happening that out of the corner of my eye I saw a tall chap laughing and smiling in my direction. When the song finished I sauntered over in his direction to ask what his go was. How in honesty could someone not like Hanson. 

I guess you are wondering what the Worlds best Musicians have to do with my Confidence, well if it had not have been for that song, I would probably not have gone and spoken with Mr Tall Bearded Man, he would not have asked for my number and I would not have eaten his cheese burger (well actually this could be a point of conjecture but I will get to this later). I walked away with a full belly, a spring in my step and soaring confidence. So to Hanson, I say thank you and if he doesn't call me, it would be the end of the world because he served his purpose

Its funny how songs pepper our memories, the first bars of a tune can pick us up and send us back to another time and another place. Hanson has been the start of two great memories for me, last night and a night last year in Tokyo in a deserted tiny back ally bar called Garlics, you can read about it here. Could Hanson possibly be the sound track of my life?

Other important musical interludes in my lift have included The Blast from the Past Soundtrack which was playing when I lost my virginity, David Grey was playing the first night I stayed at the Army Brats and the Queens of the Stoneage always remind me of the one that got away. I funnily just realised that I don't think I have ever had an "our" song with any of the guys that I dated... maybe that's the Universes way of saying that it wasn't right, because everything that is right should have its own song track? right?

Love and Plantings

Miss K

P.S As a funny side note, I was singing the line "Plant a seed, plant a flower, Plant a rose, you can plant any one of those" to Mr Tall when he smirked at me and told me that he was in fact a Landscape Architect so plants were his business... its sometimes strange the way that things work 

The first time I.....

Life is an adventure (or it should be) and in this adventure there are going to be a lot of firsts. So please join me as I take my first "steps" down memory lane 

My First Day of High School - well lets call this my first day of real high school. I grew up in a little country town, the high school was attached to the primary school and we pretty much knew all out teachers before we got there so it wasn't that big of a move. Year 8 was really a nothing but Year 9, well that was something else. I moved from the country to the Big Smoke and started school at a school that had more students in one year group than in my whole school combined. It was disastrous and scary and me being the retarded me made a fool of myself by getting lost and smashing my face into a set of stairs. 

My First Driving Lesson - so whilst most people had to wait until they were 17 to learn to drive my older sister decided that she would give me a bash at it when I was 15. She has just gotten her licence and decided to give me a burn around the block. All was going swimmingly until a car started driving behind us, in my inexperience I panicked and was calmly told to pull over to the side (which happened to be on my next door neighbours front lawn), I pulled over and some how managed a mini sit brake and dug up my neighbours lawn. I seem to remember us both panicking and quickly pulling into our driveway to never mention it again.

My First Car - It was a 1980 Datsun 200B, it was green and amazing. My mum got it when I was three months old so it had been in my family forever. It had its own special smell, kinda a mix of old vinyl, stale maccas chips (I had a bit of a Maccas addiction back in the day) and exhaust fumes. It meant freedom, adventure and many many laughs. It had a special car tape and only one speaker which sat between the seats. This is probably the most reliable car I have owned and I miss it every day

My First Job - When I finished school I needed money to pay for having a life and I got a job working with my sister at Bucking Beef slinging meat. This made me highly attractive to dogs who liked to lick my shoes. It was a good first job, I met some cool people (who I am still friends with today as one of them is married to my friend from School) and learnt how to carve a mean Roast. I ended up getting fired from that job (I think) because work was not my highest priority. And you know what I am actually totally cool with that because you need to live while you are young 

My First Kiss - I was a late bloomer and due to a stint in a religious life I didn't have my first kiss until I was 17. His name was Jason (more on him later), I was wearing a black skivvy and a black and white fluffy cow print skirt (fuck you and your judging it was 2000, fashion was interesting) and I was so nervous that when he tried to kiss me I was mid sentence and I just kept trying to talk. Classy... yep 

My First Boyfriend - his name was Jason he was 22, from NSW and I met him online. He flew to WA to be with me. I must be a bit of a trend setter, I was into Internet dating before Internet dating was cool. It wasn't really love at first site, it was disjointed and strange and very short lived. I do remember sneakily seeing his willy and it was pretty big, even by today's standards

My First Time Drinking - Like with the kissing I was a late bloomer and didn't have my first drink until I was 17.5, I was in the courting stage with my second boyfriend and he had just moved into his new house so was having a few drinks to wet the new houses head. I took a six pack of Mez Beer from my mum and headed off for a night of fun. I drank the six pack and followed it up with a few shots of Kahlua and Cointreau and I was done. My first drinking turned into my first vomiting and in the morning my first hang over. I remember having the boyfriend give me a bag to vomit in, and in his genius it was a bag with holes in it. 

My First Accident - it happened outside the house mentioned above, I had just reversed out of the Driveway and was about to put it into first to take off when I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a Honda Prelude hurtling towards me in reverse and BANG!!! Old mate hit my precious little Datsun. Thankfully Datsuns are made of tough stuff and there was no damage to my car and a caved in rear end on the Honda. I think that this may be the reason as to why I hate Hondas to this day

My First "Time" - I know a lot of people have horror stories about this, but I was one of the lucky ones. I had been dating the boy for a few months, he took me out on a lovely dinner, I had a nice blue dress on and I had bought sensible but sexy lingerie (it was Burgundy Satin with Granny Pants, gosh darn sexy). There was music and candle light (I had the stub of the candle up until recently when I moved to Melbourne) and it was amazingly romantic and special. I will always be eternally grateful to him for making it so special for me

My First Tattoo - I think I have written about this before, I got it at the age of 18 after much deliberation and consternation. I settled on a Celtic dragon to prove my originality (I actually used to have a reason why I got it but off the top of my head I cant remember what it was now) It was about 10cm long and 3cms wide. I was by far the coolest kid on the face of the planet for getting a tattoo that was so big. Hardcore

My First House - All teenagers dream about growing up and moving out of home (don't they?) and I moved out at the ripe old age of 19 into a fancy two storied house on Joel Terrace in Mount Lawley, imagine, new town house, views of the river, surrounded by mansions and all for the Tidy Sum of $250 a week (which we thought at the time was a lot). I learnt a lot in that house and the main thing was that living with friends is shit and they may not be your friends at the end of it 

My First Drug Experience - Like with kissing and dating I got into everything much later than everyone else. I had drugs for the first time when I was 20 or 21 and I did it specifically because someone had told me not to. I did it and patted myself on the back as I texted the person who had said I wasn't to, for beating him at his own game. He promptly left where he was to come and make sure that I was alright and we got back together because of this. So while it was the wrong thing to do it was with a good outcome in the end I guess. I also did things backwards and totally missed the gateway drugs and went straight to the hard stuff. Maybe my life of religion made my mind mixed up 

My First Strip Club - I don't think it is an secret that I admire the female form and as all good admirers of the female form should, I have been known to frequent Adult Entertainment Venues which are known for getting the women disrobed. I went to a Strip Club in Melbourne when I was 26 and paid a lovely lady called "Emma" to take her clothes off for me. She had the most amazing Tan which she told us was fake and I remember her saying to me "You didn't pay me to look at my eyes". I am unsure as to who was more excited, me or my mates who were watching. 

My First Solo Trip - Things don't always go as planned, I was meant to be going with a boy but when shit hit the fan it was time to go it alone. I was planned down to the last detail it was just a matter of getting on the plane. I learnt more about myself on this trip than I ever had before and it helped to remind me who I was. 

My First Moving State - People say that its big and brave and they could never do it, but in reality packing up and shipping off to a place where you don't know anyone isn't actually that big a deal, it has turned out to be much easier than what I had expected 

My First Post about my First Things - Like I was saying, there has to be a first time for everything and you don't get a second chance for first impressions. I cant wait to see what firsts come next...

Loves and Number 1s 

Miss K 

Bedroom Basics

I remember clearly as a little kid having sleep overs at my cousins house, there were 4 of us and two beds, so as you can imagine we all had to share and top to tail. I also remember very clearly that there was always a fight over who had to sleep with me. Well hah!! to them because now I am an adult EVERYONE wants to sleep with me, but really I don't want to sleep with everyone, or in fact possibly anyone. Sharing a bed (even a big bed) comes with its set of problems, and in the last few weeks I have been reminded of these perils while I have been in Perth and sharing a bed with the boyfriend. It could possibly be just me, but here's what gets me about sharing... 

Snoring and a bit more snoring - when starting to go out with this boy I asked if he snored and he ASSURED me that in fact he didn't and I had nothing to worry about, well turns out he lied. He does snore, and he snores A LOT!!!! I am a light sleeper so this is a slight issue and I am sure he is sick of hearing "Roll over and stop snoring". I used to go out with this guy who once when I asked him to roll over because he was snoring he goes "yep" and just rolled his head to the side, nice try on that one

Blankets -  overrated? - Some people seem to agree with this statement, what is it with sharing a bed but not being able to share the blankets. I guess tug of war was a fun game when we were younger but my dad always told my to share my toys

Yeah I love living on the edge - there is a whole bed and generally it is a pretty big bed. If this is the case why do men feel that they need to lay in that exact spot that you are trying to lay? they say some shit about trying to cuddle or something, what is that even? I move away to have space and they just seem to follow me pushing me further and further towards the edge until I cant move at all... which leads me into my next point

Cuddling Time Limits - I know this one may cause some controversy because it may make me look like a bitch BUT for me there is a defined time limit on cuddling when it comes time to go to sleep. I think about 5 - 10 minutes suffices.  I understand that cuddling is important for bonding and warmth and the like but I like to stretch out when I am sleeping and this is near on impossible when someone its trying to hold you. It just makes me angry and uncomfortable and more likely to kick you in the balls. But there is a clause to this point, if I want to cuddle you then that's ok. I guess I am like a cat, I will give you attention when I want it but all other times keep away from me

The Creepy Snail up my back in the middle of the night - Look we all know that its not actually a snail but that's what it feels like to me. Having the boy roll over and try to spoon you while his little him goes for a wander up my back.... its what I would imagine a snail crawling over me would feel like, all cold and slimey. To combat this, underwear shall always be worn during sleep times 

Morning Breath - we all have it, so that's why I always brush my teeth on my first trip to the toilet in the morning. Its all about a bit of courtesy for your partner. I hate people breathing near me anyway (I like fresh cool air not half warm used air) but its more tolerable if that breath comes with a minty fresh tinge. 

I guess sleeping in the same bed with someone isn't all that bad and if that's all I have to contend with then really I have little to worry about. Sharing a bed is good because it means you have someone else to get up and turn out the light, someone to warm your side of the bed in the absence of an electric blanket and someone to cuddle when you want it. I guess as with everything in life you need to take the good with the bad, after all it is about the biggest picture isn't it?

Love and a 1000 Counts

Miss K 

P.S another bedroom thing that gets me, but not specifically in relation to sharing a bed with someone is the quality of the linen. I am a 1000 count or bust kind of girl and to anyone that says you cant feel the difference I call bullshit. My old house mate had the worst linen, all his sheets were thread bare and his pillow cases had rips in them, If he was to bring me home I would have turned around and walked straight back out. We are adults now, make an investment for your life. I have had my 1000 counts for 6 years, they have gone through countless tattoo staining, hundreds and hundreds of washes, a bit of mischief and a whole heap of sleeping and they are still as good as the day that I got them. They may be a bit more expensive but you get what you pay for. Trust me you will thank me for the suggestion

Pregnancy Tests - The Youth Stealer and other Musings

There is a moment in every young girls life when they realise that possibly they are not as young as what they used to be and its a large earth crashing moment when this happens. I guess its all part of the journey into adult hood... it had to happen sooner or later

Let me set the scene for you, I had been feeling a bit sick for a while, tried the pass out game on the tram a few times and had just not been feeling the best. On mentioning this to the best friend, she suggested that I might possibly be up the duff, and whilst I knew that for many GIANT reasons this couldn't be the case I needed to make sure, just to tick that one thing off my list. I headed to my local chemist and purchased your standard issue pregnancy test and this is where shit got weird. On passing the change and my bag to me the lady behind the counter hit me with her mega watt smile and said "Good Luck". I stumbled out of the shop with my guilty little package under my arm and I had the words "Good Luck" trampsing through my head.

I wondered why she would be offering me Good Luck, was it good luck to not be pregnant or was she wishing me a belly full of arms and legs? Maybe because I didn't buy a guilt item (the item you buy to take emphasis away from the fact that you are buying something that's a bit iffy ie/ Jelly Beans when you are buying condoms etc) she thought that I was all aboard the baby train. I remember visiting the chemist to buy a pregnancy test when I was younger (maybe about 21) and the lady gave me a look of pity as she handed me my package. Where did the pity look go?  It dawned on me pretty quick that she would have been wishing me luck for the arms and legs as it is pretty common practice for the females of my species to be reproducing at my age, so she had been making the generalisation that I too wanted to go down this path.

So kids hey? well I guess its time to admit that in the last 6 months I did actually entertain the idea of maybe one day having a baby. I was seeing a guy and I thought of what our baby would look like and the thought didn't totally repulse me... does this mean that I am growing up and may one day eventually have one of my own? I have decided that if this is the case though I don't really want one to grow inside me because that kinda freaks me out and I don't want the Alien to come smashing out of my stomach like it does in the those movies, so I instead would like someone to develop technology that would see babies grown outside of the body (ala Matrix style). Some suggested receptacles to anyone reading this would be a Watermelon (they have a food source, its kinda shaped like a uterus and it will come out smelling watermelony good) or your standard issue fish tank, whilst its not as glamorous and nice smelling as a Watermelon it will allow you to see what it looks like before it comes out, no more having to wait for ultra sounds.

I have also decided that if I do have a baby I would like to it to be half Ginger and half Asian, I know you are probably thinking this is a strange mix but two couples I know have both had one of these babies and they are probably the cutest kids I have ever seen. It makes sense to want a cute one, I don't want anyone to be saying its cute to my face and then secretly behind my back laughing about how ugly it is (there is no judging if you do that because even I have looked at some babies and gone "gosh darn that things ugly") and also Asians are known to be smart and good at Violin and I totally want my kid to play Violin. It all makes sense

So now I guess its time to accept the fact that my youth is behind me, its ok to use granny trolleys and wear control top panties and its actually not so bad being older. Gone at the Pity looks and they have been replaced with cheap insurance and that's a win in my book 

Love and Uterus's 

Miss K