words involving english.

planning for our mini-getaway {post soon} -- stickers are, obviously, essential.
Husband -- Sven
Dogs -- dog
B. -- Boo {I swear I called B. Boo before realising that it was the name of the kid in Monsters Inc. and then to top it off B. even resembles Boo -- at least she does to me -- so now, obviously, have deluded myself into thinking that B. is Boo and Boo is B.}
Me -- Olaf
Misc -- a random alien from Toy Story

Do you ever wonder why I have no friends?
I don't. 

Places not to eat in Penrith {yes, Penrith, ugh}. Red Cow Inn. Food looks delicious but, honestly. Watery vegetables & mash. Charge $2 for grated Parmesan cheese -- you know, the fart in the bag kind. Outrage for the need for the stinky cheese dust. Husband ordered a hamburger that had the clump of sauce/relish on one side and then nothing aside from dry meat and disappointment. 

Never again.

I often whinge about our taste in restaurants being boring but here's the thing -- you branch out and you leave devastated, disappointed, heart broken and shaky, as if nothing will ever be okay again. Why do I do this to myself?

I need this coin purse from Fossil. Does it remind anyone else of Karl Lagerfeld or am I a delusional person?


beauty//the mask diaries

use in the shower & busy yourself with shaving legs/removing other hair/masturbating

origins ginzing face mask -- refresh tired ass skin

palmer's purifying enzyme mask -- for all the things

& these are a few of my favourite things


j style//does society frown upon naked wedding guests?

My sister gets married next Friday. Next bloody Friday. Of course, I'm really darn excited for her and I know it's going to be gorgeous and this is not a post about that. This is about me because I'm wonderfully self-involved.

I have nothing to wear to her wedding. Nothing. I have looked. And I have looked and I found the most adorable red dress with fucking love hearts on it and it was beautiful and then it made my boobs look all smooshed and square and, sure, not every dress has to show the boobs but if the dress makes me look like I have cardboard boxes for boobs then why should I even go there?

I trawled through Myer. Shopbop. Asos. I even went to the chains like Bardot and Forever New which I used to love but now they make me want to poke myself in the eye with a toasted marshmallow. I hate everything. I swear every dress these days has back cut out with side cut outs and boobs and legs showing while hugging your butt so we can all close our eyes and pretend we're a Kardashian. Ugh. I could think of nothing worse. Everyone is wearing them and, yeah, sure, that's fine for them but not for me. What happened to showing one thing? Just one damn thing?

Also, I feel like I dip into prim and proper too much, as if I bake cookies and give blow jobs for a living.

So, I'm going naked to my sister's wedding. Sorry.

There's just no other option.

I mean I could wear pants but I could also have a lobotomy,


the new beauty must haves

Just yesterday I stared into my make up drawer and thought that'll do pig, that'll do. I was so proud of myself. If I was a crier I would have shed tears from sheer happiness. Instead I just finished doing my make up and wrinkling my face up at my reflection because I was looking particularly potato-y that day. Today, well, today's a different story and if my behaviour at Coles {*ahem* two-hundred dollars on chocolate & sippy cups} last night is anything to go by well, I'm a fickle spender. Also, I like stuff.

one. gwen stefani blush palette -- look, I'm not really into celebrity make up lines or whatever, I'm more of a if I want a damn lip kit I'll buy a damn lip kit girl regardless of whose name is on it {and to be perfectly honest the name on it would turn me off more than on} but the shades in this palette are just too good to pass up & I need them so desperately in my life that I can feel it in every fiber of my being
two. bobbi brown mask mini kit x 3 -- I love a good mask & this kit looks delicious -- deep clean, get some serious moisture and intense radiance with this trio because why the heck not?
three. burberry nude gold eyeshadow -- this little beauty is limited edition so snap the sucker up {why do I even speak when crap like that comes out of my mouth?} and, also, burberry just for the packaging alone? yes please!
four. becca under eye brightening corrector -- can you imagine if this actually worked and I stopped looking like a boxer {purple under eyes} crossed with a vampire?
five. the body shop lip & cheek stains -- all the colours
six. nars velvet matte skin tint -- it just sounds delicious and it's not in a glass jar/container so no exploding...?
seven. look at my bow! hello kity & opi -- just for the name and packaging alone
eight. clinique pep-start eye cream -- it seems to be promising a bit too much, but hey, one day that could work out, right?
nine. bobbi brown sandy nude palette -- I want to have sex with this palette and have its babies


parenting perfection

I mean, yeah, sure, I''m a sarcastic bitch and sometimes parenting is darn hard, man, but also --

I love being a mum more than anything in this world.

I love dressing up.

I love wearing makeup.

I love my Husband and my marriage and my life.

I love a gloriously clean house.

I am happy to victory dance about my ability to juggle work, jayebyday, my novel, my freelance stuff and my family because, hey, sometimes it's a struggle but sometimes it's not and that's okay too.

I don't like to brag because, meh...

I don't like to complain because, meh...


How about we support each other negative and positive?

Lipstick or messy hair?

Clean house or crumby carpets?

I mean, who gives a crap? Stop being so damn negative. Stereotypes are boring. Stop being so damn braggy. Unless it's about yummy boobies and then go for it. Let's all be normal functioning members of society and support each other no matter what okay?


friday five//having a gay old time

Gaytimes have always been my favourite ice cream. I will always and forever be a gaytime lover, man. I even embraced the teasing as a kid {har har you're gay!} because one. being gay isn't a bad thing and two. gaytimes are delicious so there! Lately, I have become obsessed with gaytime-y clothing & accessories. Obsessed, I tell you, and, sure, I don't need anymore ridiculous items in my wardrobe but I damn well want them so here's five --

one. bubble o bill ice cream studs from saturday lollipop -- an old favourite for me & a current one for B. So many memories of deliciousness and choking on bubblegum *sob*
two. patricia chang donut cross body bag -- can you imagine using this bag only as donut transport? I can! Mmmm...
three. this ice cream favourites dress from pretty parcel -- available for pre-order & I'm on the list *insert happy dance*
four. donuts jammies from ASOS -- please & thank you
five. junk food pins from venessa arizaga -- pin some delicious food to delicious boobies why don't you?


j style//rubi takes on the studded boot

Fuck me. Have you seen Rubi's Lloyd Stud Boot? Yes, I know, I know, knock-offs are bad but look these aren't being sold under the pretense of being Chloé so... it's kinda-semi okay. Right? I don't entirely love the idea because, hey, those Chloé boots are pure sex but they're also darn expensive and I've got better things to spend my money on {like cake}. And maybe one day I'll get my hand on the Susanna but until then I think I'm going to head to Rubi and pick up a pair of these --

Lloyd Stud Boot -- $59.95
*also, shares their name with one of the greatest footballers of all time so, obviously needed just for that

you belong somewhere you feel free

I think we all know that feeling -- as if a song was made just for us. There's Wonderful and With Me!Mystery Train and a bunch of others that give little snippets into me.

I close my eyes when I get to sad. I think thoughts that I know are bad.

I'll wait here forever just to, to see you smile...

There are days when she's a whisper. Nights when she's a scream

Yet, I think, perhaps, it's the songs that other people see us in that really speak to who we are. Husband lists two -- Baba O'Riley -- the song will always play as if it's the first time I ever heard it, and this is exactly why it reminds me of her; every time I go away, I return surprised and overwhelmed with who she is. Like the melody, I am familiar with her and never let who she is out of mind, but she is renewed every single day.

& then there's the most recent addition -- Wildflowers by Tom Petty. He mentioned it in passing -- this song reminds me of you -- and he played it for me. My heart broke. And then it healed. And then it breaks all over again.

You belong among the wildflowers

You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by

I listen to it multiple times a day. It breaks my heart that the sad mournful tone reminds my Husband of me. It hurts that he can see I'm not free, a victim of my own mind. The sadness and the way it envelopes me aches in every fiber and then it breathes life into me. Finally, finally, I am understood. Finally, somewhere, something gets it. The pain, the hurt, the dreams of life among the wildflowers, of belonging somewhere you feel free.

The song helps and hurts and when I listen to it, when I really need it the most, I close my eyes, silent tears slipping through, and imagine a life among the wildflowers, somewhere I feel free.


being mum//the sucky parenting guide

It has come to my attention recently that I very much suck at parenting. Here's why:

one. I'm such a kid/brat myself that I don't see any problem with half the "naughty" things B. does. Husband, on the other hand, says that it's not funny when B. chucks an epic tantrum because her "bunker" on the daybed isn't to her exact specifications and her saying she wants to break the daybed is not nice. But, here's the thing, if that daybed crossed me, I'd want to break the fucker too.

two. drop off time at school is so darn boring. Ugh. And there are parents who wait around after the kid is in the room to just sneak another peak and yeah, sure, I'd rather be with my kid 24/7 than have her at the place they call "school" {new thing, apparently} but, also, I've got better things to be doing than watching my kid walk into a classroom and peak in at her through a window. I could be sleeping or on Instagram or something else really important.

three. I've spoken about my distaste for bed time before {here -- read me!} and in some ways I've gotten better but in other ways I've gotten worse. Like when I've worked the night and haven't seen B. all day because hobo had to go to school to learn {kid knows how to count to one hundred, it's all downhill from there} so we snuggle up on the couch and watch Golden Girls together and she drifts off within five minutes but, still, goals man. I don't know, bedtime is so boring and I remember as a kid wanting nothing more than to just fall asleep out in the lounge room near my parents {don't ask me why, I was delusional back then} so I let B. do the same because, hey, I'm pretty darn awesome. 

four. B. has always been a wonderful eater but she's also been a snacker {like me!} and when she was a baby/toddler the nurses told me to stamp it out and I just nodded and pretended to agree but really I was probably thinking about shoes. I don't think snacking is that bad. I much prefer it to eating meals and B. kind of does too. And, sure, she loves vegetables {broccoli, cucumber, tomatoes!} and adores tuna and salmon and that's great and all but she also loves chicken nuggets but only if they are cooked in the microwave {don't you dare give her oven baked!} and she loves baked beans but only if they are dumped straight from the can into a bowl and eaten as is. So, yes, sometimes, B. eats cold baked beans for dinner and I tried to care but really I'm just a lazy fuck.

Also, we tried instituting a rule where she is not allowed to eat the same thing two nights in a row {otherwise she'd become a chicken nugget I tell you} but just last week she devoured spinach and ricotta pasta three nights in a row. Sue me.


Sometimes I feel like I should spend less time writing about all the ways in which I suck and focus more on the good I do but, ugh, boring right? Who really needs to know that I do awesome Disney movie watching and popcorn eating and pyjama wearing? That shit would just make you feel bad about your inadequacies. 

But on a serious note, I know I'm a pretty great parent, thank you very much. I also know I've got a pretty great set of boobs that I wish I could motorboat. I do suck a lot {not just penis! get your mind out of the gutter! but, also, yes, penis} but as long as my kid is happy and healthy I don't let too much of my suck-ity get in the way of life and when I do I just put on Shake It Off and have a dance party instead...


that sexual feeling//toys to enjoy

I've always been very much open {yes, legs too} when it comes to sex. Have loved it for as long as I can remember and one of the things I adore most about being married is that I have a safe place to act out all my sexual fantasies {other than that marriage is pretty boring actually - bills! blah!}. I'm lucky that my Husband is pretty open and loves me as I am and *as I am* means usually with some new kinky fantasy and a vibrator not too far away. Lately, I have become even more obsessed with sex toys and *may* be flirting with the idea of getting rid of some shoes to make a sex toy side of my closet. Here are my essentials --

one. the white wabbit -- for the husband & you
two. wearable vibrator -- this is an essential
three. backless brief -- is adorable the right word?
four. black silky handcuffs -- because fluffy handcuffs were so age seventeen
five. a love crop -- give your hands a rest
six. this ridiculous flamingo crop -- because sex ain't that serious
seven. we vibe plus -- I have dreams and those dreams involve my Husband having control of this while I am at home, alone, because, sometimes, calling him up so he can listen while you orgasm with a vibrator is rather tiresome
eight. a silk blindfold -- is there anything more delicious than being handcuffed and blindfolded while someone kisses you all over?
nine. door jam cuffs -- because sometimes you just need to be fucked against a wall/door but, man, old age has taken its toll and it's kinda slippery and damn hard work so you just need some door jams okay?


Then, of course, there's porn which is an essential, obviously. But porn is such a personal thing and I am very particular with it. Like, there can't be any romance whatsoever because romance is nauseating. Also, no soppy music. I don't want to see soft core shit and if I have to hear Kim Kardashian moaning the same cliche lines over and over I'll vomit.

Though, saying all that, there is, of course one movie that everyone should watch. Essential viewing, I tell you. It was the first movie Husband and I ever watched together {as in any movie at all - watched before our first date to see Monster In Law} and Husband bought me my own copy as a wedding present {now, that's romantic}. Presenting --

the greatest movie ever made... moments of love

friday five//those v. day feels

Every year I fall into the Valentines Day trap. All the products are just too damn irresistible and I can't help it. I like to buy all the things. For me. For the Husband. For B. And for the doggies. Valentines Day {if a real holiday, still debating this fact} should be about loving everybody not just the guy who slips you his penis once in a while. This year I have also decided that Valentine's Day should also be about pyjamas because why not? and, also, I love pyjamas, particularly this one store where all five items feature, and if Valentine's Day isn't the perfect time to fling a pair of pj's at the one you love or kind of like {maybe} or maybe just the one you want to one night stand {though why they need a gift, I don't know, on V. Day do you stay the night? Is that special code?}... Whatever, here's five --

lacey bra --perfect for on top activities 
let's stay in bed -- snuggle, eat chocolate, lick whipped cream off each other?
candy stripes short set -- love. love. love.
mens tramp sleep tee & lady tee -- because the nerds that wear matching pj's suck each others...


& look! v-day pj's for B.

really, now, how could you not?


j style//louis vuitton dreaming

Louis Vuitton is by far my favourite luxury brand. It always makes me happy and the pieces I have make me feel wonderfully special. Of course, I need more. I am Louis Vuitton addicted, hit by the bug when I went to get my Neverfull GM in Damier Ebene {that red lining!} and they gave B. a packet of fairy stickers for being so good. Since, then I have sold one LV piece {at Blue Spinach -- post coming soon} and added another to my collection {this key pouch is my new "wallet" of sorts -- perfection for storing all your cards and cash when/if you have it}.

So, what's next on my list? Tricky question actually, there are just too many and it's becoming increasingly more difficult to pick. Help me why don't you --

one. these gumboots -- can one jump in muddy puddles in these?
two. pochette metis -- this has been my number one for quite some time and, man, I want to hold this bag as I sleep -- so beautiful 
three. this key holder -- so simple and pretty
four. these spectacles -- ooh, having jumpy vision has never felt so wonderful
five. this multi-colour bracelet -- I am not a fan of the multis -- at all -- but this grabs me in all the best places
six. this cigarette case -- I am a very firm non-smoker {never have, never will} but I need this *maybe* as a phone or glasses case? I feel as though, perhaps, it'd be v. useful 
seven. this belt -- thinking it'd be perfection for an upcoming wedding...?
eight. this cosmetic pouch -- looks so perfectly soft that I want to cry and marry it
nine. this phone case -- that colour!


see! can't possible choose. don't wanna, not gonna. 


that dog life//electronic fences...?

It kind of hurts to be writing this but I'm going to persevere and move forth -- I think about electronic dog fences all the time since we lost Minnie. If we had one could her death have been prevented? My anxiety since losing Minnie has only increased and I worry about what could happen to the other furry friends in our life. I wonder if we could be more proactive, more organised? Just leap? On one hand electric dog fences sound overwhelming and scarily expensive and it just seems too damn hard doesn't it? On the other, if our ridiculously weird furry family mean anything to us their safety should be paramount shouldn't it? Luckily, with all the confusion and refusal to adult I have the lovely folks from Dog Fence DIY here today to give us all the information we need to keep our furry randoms safe --


Should You Get an Electronic Dog Fence for Your Yard?

Maybe you’ve just moved to a new home, or you’re thinking about getting that puppy your kids are always asking for? Maybe you simply want more peace of mind than continuing to trust your dog not to stray too far from home? Whatever the case, as with any safety concern, choosing a fence isn’t a decision to take lightly. If you’re thinking beyond the standard fence option and considering an invisible dog fence, how do you know if it’s the right solution? Here are some questions to ask yourself before you decide on this major purchase.

Do You Have Several Acres of Land?

If you have a large yard consisting of several - even up to 100 - acres of land, an electronic dog fence might be a smart solution for you. One of the main problems with fencing in so much land is the cost. Standard fence sections simply cost much more than extra wire for an electronic dog fence. When you have that much of a perimeter, it also makes it extremely difficult to check for damage, especially if you’re in a storm-prone area. An electronic dog fence system will notify you as soon as there’s a break in the wire that could allow your dog to get out.

Is Your Dog Determined to Escape?

For dogs that are determined to escape, an invisible dog fence is generally a more reliable option than a standard fence. Some dogs, for example, simply love to dig, and they will burrow underneath any standard fence. With an electric dog fence, your dog will be unable to dig underneath the boundary or cross it in any other crafty way. The warning tones emitted by their e-collar, if ignored, are followed by a mild static shock. Most owners of canine escape artists have found that an invisible dog fence is a great solution to the problem of disappearing dogs.

Do You Have Off-Limits Areas in Your Yard?

One of the best uses for an electric dog fence is to create exclusion areas within the yard. Most dog owners would like their dogs to have the ability to freely roam the yard, but are unable to allow them to do so because of various obstacles. For example, digging dogs can wreak havoc on backyard gardens or flower beds, and backyard chickens can be terrorized by dogs. Ponds, lakes, farming machinery, or fertilizer storage could be present dangers. Keeping your dog away from these things isn’t always an easy task, especially when you don’t want to obstruct your own view or access with a large standard fence in the middle of the yard.

If any of these scenarios apply to you, you might benefit from an electric dog fence. There are many different configurations an electric dog fence can take, so it’s easy to create boundaries anywhere they’re needed. If an electronic dog fence encloses your entire yard, you can create exclusion zones within it. If you already have an adequate standard fence, you can still create off-limits areas by installing and training your dog on an invisible dog fence.

Is Your Dog Aggressive?

Some dogs are aggressive and simply don’t respond to e-collars when their prey drive is heightened or their sense of security is threatened. If your dog is known to bite or be aggressive, they could be a liability to you and a danger to the community if they escape your yard. In this case, do not rely solely on an invisible dog fence to keep your dog contained. Even if your aggressive dog responds well to e-collar training, invisible dog fences do not prevent children, animals, or strangers from entering your yard. The safest solution is actually to use a double barrier of both an electronic dog fence and a tall standard fence.

Do You Have a Modest Budget?

Many standard fences are cost prohibitive, especially if you have a large yard. A lack of funds, however, doesn’t mean you have to compromise on the safety of your dog. A DIY electric fence can be installed in one weekend, even if you’re inexperienced with completing home improvement projects on your own. Installing an invisible dog fence by yourself will save you at least $1200 on professional installation costs. You’ll only have to purchase the electric dog fence system, which can be as low as $300 for a top-of-the-line system.

Can You Commit to Training Your Dog?

The most important thing about considering an electronic dog fence is to be honest about your level of commitment. Simply put, invisible dog fences do not work if your dog is not properly trained. Training can take about 30 minutes per day for two weeks, and you must follow the training procedure exactly. If you aren’t sure you’ll have the time or dedication to training, do not purchase an electronic dog fence. Dogs who are properly trained will not experience the corrective shock at all during normal use. Dogs who are inadequately trained will often experience the correction, which can lead to stress, misbehavior, and even refusal to go outside.

If you decide that an electronic dog fence is the way to go, be sure to compare and contrast the many makes and models of dog fences before you purchase one. There are many different features to consider; such as adjustable correction levels, battery backup, maximum range, and remote training; and you want to be sure to choose the type that’s best for your dog and your yard. There is also the option of a wireless dog fence, which is easiest to install and is portable. No matter what containment method you decide, the important thing is that you have your dog’s best interests at heart and are willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

If you think an electronic dog fence might be a good choice for your yard, or you want to learn more, visit Dog Fence DIY - our partner in dog containment education.


*I was contacted by Dog Fence DIY and was paid for this post, however, I made sure that my voice was heard and was under no obligation to post something I didn't like or agree with. As, always, all opinions are my own.


tv//why i stopped watching

We all know by now that jaye is synonymous with tv. I love the stuff, man. It, along with chocolate, berries and tea is my life force. But, like most things, tv can sometimes disappoint with hideous decisions that irreparably damage the jaye-show relationship. Such things can never be recovered from and it's a shame, so shame-y, because most of these shows were so darn almost better than sex good and then they had to go and piss me off. Like, why, why would you do that? Here's what I've loved and lost --

the good wife -- when Will Gardner died I lost it & never recovered. The show was never the same without him...

the vampire diaries & the originals -- the above says it all really. All vamipred out. Sick of their whining.

homeland -- claire danes never stopped fucking crying

bates motel -- dog was hit by a car and died

bones -- season ten was so phoned in it hurt

once upon a time -- got Frozen so wrong and then piled villain orgies on top of us without break for lube or water

nurse jackie -- I switched off at season two. Jackie has no likable or endearing qualities, obviously hates her children, a stupid fucking selfish bitch


& there's more, obviously, because of all those I do watch not many stand the test of time...

like the following which became pointless without Joe

or sex and the city which is quite often too whiny and female


the anxious me//when the medication is not enough

Just a warning, this is going to be a haphazard, shaky kind of post -- I am haphazard and shaky right now. Three days in of withdrawing from my current medication. It hurts. My body shakes between nausea and dizziness and most of the time my vision is blurred and I can't fucking cope. You have depression/anxiety/ocd/ptsd and you finally get brave enough to go to a doctor and they put you on the medication and then you finally get your head to not be scared of taking the medication so you take it and... Sick for two weeks straight. Can't get out of bed kind of sick. Vomiting. You can't eat or move. Sleep is all you need. And you're endlessly tired. Except your head feels better and it's screaming at you to do something and you can't so you wait.

And 2 weeks pass and you start to feel human and your life goes back to normal. Slightly. Except this medication doesn't feel quite right. You still have trouble sleeping and your head still tells you to die. So you tell your doctor who tells you to wait three months. And then another three. And then it's almost been two years and he asks you if you still want to die and you clutch your wrist and nod meekly. So he ups your dosage and calls a number to let you have double for the same price. It will help. But it doesn't help. You still feel the same and most of the time you're drowning.

And finally, finally, you feel brave enough to go see another doctor even though the thought of one more person knowing you're a fucking mess kills you but you do it and they suggest something else but, first, tests to check your liver works fine because, hey, did you know this one might make your liver shitty? Never mind the fact that the pills could increase your suicidal thoughts and make you feel like fucking crap. So you take the tests and your liver works fine so, hey, lucky you, you get to take that stupidly scary leap into this new medication river and hope like heck this one works for you and doesn't make you want to die even more than usual. Fun.

Except before you do that you have to get your old medication out of your system. So for 3 days you get to withdraw from medication that did nothing much at all and, hey, it's lots of fun. I swear. If fun means feeling as though you are dying and screaming crying because all your senses hurt then, yep, fun. And you know what is more fun? Going to work when you're withdrawing and vomiting in the bathroom and just fucking sucking for seven hours before you can go home, shove hot chips in your mouth and feel like death some more. And, sure, you could have taken the day off but the anxiety you got when trying to write an email explaining why you couldn't work those days that week was too overwhelming and you contemplated just giving a none-reason but couldn't face that either so you went and tried to suck it up as best you could even if that means racing to the chemist in a blind panic, muttering about anxiety and depression and withdrawals and needing help please! and then dropping chocolate on the floor while crying mid-panic/anxiety attack to your Husband because you feel like you're dying.

And then as night creeps on the third day and you can take your new medication, the anxiety sets in because of all the damn side affects and everything else that these pills could possibly mean. And you know you have to take them because three days without medication means you've turned back into that person who bursts into tears when her body lotion falls on the floor and you hate that person but, also, you're not sure if you fear her or the unknown more and what if all the things?


So that's medication... for me, at least. Because my first go that lasted over two years did not turn out so well and, now, I'm so fucking anxious and nervous and sick and I can't stand it. Medication doesn't always work and sometimes it takes a few goes to get right and I hate that. I just want to click my fingers, tap my shoes, and be better. Wouldn't that be a dream?


friday five

five things -- buy them this weekend & live forever in peace --

soludos jason polan coffee espadrille flat shoes -- can you even? how many evens?
ugh, love these! also, donut ones...

skinnydip cross body -- pom poms makes me happy

who doesn't need a j tray

*not so fun fact -- you know I used to think {and quite honestly still do} that I could never get in trouble for jaywalking because I am jaye and, hello, it was obviously invented for me because I'm that douche who never looks where they're going while walking and especially crossing roads*

these lisa t mugs from target -- perfect for valentines day


death & loss//moving on...?

ease my troubles, that's what you do

Sometimes, you get really lucky and you meet someone who makes your life infinitely better. With them, anything could happen and it just rolls off you. As long as you have them you're fine. I had that. Maxy was that.

I know many people think dogs are just dogs. I know she was a dog. I know I attached my own stuff onto her. But, still, regardless, she was my safe haven. Even after Bailey was born. It was Maxy. She was abused. So was I. I guess, I felt like I needed to save her and in doing so I'd save myself. I clung to her happiness as if it was my lifeline. I needed her life to be great. And it was. She was four when we rescued her from the shelter. We had so many great years with her. Yet... she escaped from our house and was hit by a car on a highway, perhaps even a truck, and the great speeds caused her body to be no longer and the pieces of her, inside, became one with her outside and that memory sticks with me.

I had PTSD from childhood, this I know now, but Maxy and the last image of her made it that much more vicious. Driving in cars gives me so much anxiety that sometimes I can't breathe. Seeing blood, menstural or a blood test even, makes me dizzy and nauseous. I can't think of death. I'm so terrified of it now that I live, mostly, in this childish daydream. I'm half of who I was before.

Sometimes I hate her. She wasn't the kind of dog who escaped from backyards. She didn't like cars. She hated going on walks for goodness sake. She hated thunder so, the only thing I can think is when the thunder clapped while she was in our back yard she tried to run away. But... at first did she try the back door? Did she need me? And why did I even let her out? Shouldn't I have known that it could possibly start to rain?

Or was she escaping from Husband and I since we'd been fighting lately? Or was she feeling as though she'd been replaced? Or was she so miserable that getting split into pieces was more tolerable than living with me? 

And that's the thing. I have always felt like that. That I am unlovable. And even when my parents and siblings told me they loved me I never believed it. I push people away. I just can't believe that anyone would love me, so, when Minnie died that was the final nail in my coffin. The unlovable, worthless, tomb.


It's been three years now. I still feel the concrete as I collapsed to it. I still feel the tears and taste the rain. I still see her insides. The only way I get through life is to pretend she never existed. I have a framed photo of her by my bed but I fucking hate her urn. I have a Minnie Mouse that reminds me of her. But I can barely say her name and reminiscing about the good times is unbearable.

Does it get easier?

I miss her. I want to remember her. She deserves it.

I wonder if death means never moving on? Is it just pushing that person out of your mind until they flicker in the back?  Is it just muddling about in the world without them and only ever getting out of bed because you've tricked yourself into thinking they never existed? Is it forcing yourself to pretend until the imagined becomes the truth? Is it never really truly celebrating the life that meant so much? 


we need to talk about star wars

I must confess, way back when I used to think Star Wars was much too nerdy and weird. But then I met a weird looking fellow who made me fall in love with it. For that, weirdo, I thank you. I am now an avid Star Wars fan. T-shirts? Yes please! Jar Jar Binks toys? OMG! R2-D2 pop vinyl, mug and teapot? How did you know! I buy Star Wars stuff for my entire family. Even the dogs. I love it. And I'm not ashamed of it either. Star Wars is awesome. 

My breed of fandom is very girly, I must admit. Yes, I did shriek in excitement when I saw special The Force Awakens drink bottles, cups and popcorn tubs at the cinema this past Thursday. Yes, I did spend over fifty dollars on them. No, I will not be shamed. 

Anyway... yes I love Star Wars yada yada. Moving on...

The Force Awakens. I was hooked from the get go. All of it. Loved it. Sure there was no Jar Jar Binks and, sure, it didn't keep with the canon but... there's just something about it that made me want to go fuck my Husband in the toilet. Feel me?

It just made me feel high on life. Enthralled. On the edge of my seat. Terrified. And then really really bloody sad. I cried twice during the film and then once when it was done and I tell you now I'm not really a crier. Sure, when my kid draws me the best picture of a dog anyone has ever seen I cry. Not much else gets me. Sad movies? Meh! Sad books? Unless they resemble my life/thoughts/feelings also meh! I don't cry! I hate emotions. Quite frankly they bore me.

But Star Wars made me cry and **spoiler alert** Han Solo made me do it. If there is anyone aside from Jar Jar Binks in the Star Wars universe that so closely resembles myself, who I feel a kinship with, it's Han Solo. I stay stupid stuff all the time when Husband says he loves me! I'm also hilarious and sexy as fuck. Obviously. So when a dim witted douche nugget kills Han Solo I damn well cry. I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand and swallow a boulder sized lump in my throat. Fuck.


I'm so mad and devastated. I can't even begin to explain it. Poor Chewie. 

Of course, I have Gandalf-like dreams of dear Han Solo. Han Solo The White? Han Solo The Even More Awesome? I don't bloody care. It just needs to happen.

I'm not quite sure what a Han Solo-less world looks like but it feels pretty sweaty and morose and I don't like it.


being mum//the starting school feels

I know this is a cliche, I know I'm making a huge deal out of something that most people experience but... I can't help it. B. started school today {Thursday as I type, Monday as I post} and I feel so many darn things that I'm muddled and most certainly off.

1. Last night while B. was sleeping I stared at her and thought she seemed much too little to start school.
2. Is she vomiting?
3. What happens if she chokes on vomit while she sleeps?
4. Go to sleep, you fool.
5. Toilet. It's 5 am. I miss B.
6. Toilet. It's 7am. I wonder what would happen if we all accidentally slept right through the morning?
7. Crap it's only 7.17am.
8. Apparently Husband set an alarm. Damn over achiever.
9. Why is B. shoving a Darth Vader in my face?
10. Berries in bed with B. Let's take a picture.
11. Ugh, why am I that mum? The last berries in bed together before she starts school, as if we'll never eat berries together again...
12. I am lame.
13. I wish I knew another language so I could tell B. not to go to school without her knowing. Why so dumb?
14. This pain in my stomach, in my heart, in my whole being hurts. I feel pangs of sadness. This feels like the beginning of the end.
15. Why did I listen to my child last year when she said she wanted to start pre-school? We could have had another year together.
16. I'd be quite good at home schooling, you know. Class would start around one and you'd be graded on the fine art of sleeping in. Uniform would pyjamas and Disney movies would be a subject.
17. B. has moved on to pancakes with Husband in the kitchen. Am currently petulant overgrown child in bed.
18. Why? Technically kids don't need to start school until five so why does B. have the need to be so darn early?
19. What if the teachers hate her because she's younger? What if she doesn't make friends? What if she's not emotionally equipped for this? What if she has a toilet accident? Where will she eat recess and lunch? What if she's really saying "don't make me go" when she's squealing about how she's as excited as she is loud?
20. School...
21. The teacher is hustling us out the door. I think I left my phone in the room. Or my shoes. Or something else. My sanity maybe?
22. What kind of Husband doesn't believe their wife when she has she left her shoes in her kids classroom? Have I ever lied before? Don't let the shoes on my feet sway your opinion.
23. I hate the school.
24. I hate my Husband.
25. Distracted by Star Wars and cinema merchandise.
26. BB!
27. Must check my phone to see if the school called for us to come take her back.
28. Distracted by Star Wars devastation.
29. As devastated as much as Chewbacca is hairy.
30. Shopping...
31. I'm sweating balls.
32. Pick up time is soooo boring!
33. I hate waiting.
34. When can I see my ki---- ooh squirrel!
35. Picked up kid who is now ranting about some girls "ugly" Frozen backpack which I had labelled as such a week or so earlier when B. was insisting she needed the same one from Kmart. Oops.
36. B. is frustrated she didn't learn anything at school.
37. Kid is home and doing self-appointed homework.
38. Lunchbox is away. Notes have been read. Certificate of first day at kindy oohed over.
39. Life really is the same isn't it? Chugging along at warp speed. Han Solo-less.
40. Maybe school ain't so bad after all. Except... the nine am start time seems a bit early doesn't it? Barbaric almost? Ugh...


that married life//being married to me...

I feel sorry for my Husband. I really, truly, do. Not only is he thirty and balding, he's also married to me. Poor guy. I'm not being hard on myself. I'm not pushing away love. I know what I deserve thank you very much. I'm just an annoying bitch. Here's what it takes to be married to me --

one. making a poster like this that sits above our bed and constantly adding to them. because being married to someone with anxiety and depression is really bloody tough and I need constant reminders that I'm not worthless and am loved.

two. spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on wedding/engagement/eternity bands and then seeing me either with a naked wedding finger or just wearing a hundred dollar x & o ring that I love much more.

three. making me tea because when I really need a cup of tea making it myself just won't do.

four. getting me drinks when I'm really thirsty because I'm too weak to get it myself.

five. hearing me complain about being starving because I forgot to eat for ten+ hours.

six. reminding me to eat because eating is boring. & ensuring that it's not just chocolate or fruit...

seven. having my idea of romance being just randomly standing in front of you naked and asking for sex right now please.

eight. hearing me screech while in the shower because I have an urge to give you a hand job.

nine. me hogging the blanket with it wedged tightly between my legs.

ten. needing/wanting/craving multiple orgasms during sexy times.

eleven. needing to know when you've arrived anywhere safely because otherwise I'm convinced you're dead.

twelve. hating talking on the phone. even to you.

thirteen. having to hear potato as a response to anything really sweet.

fourteen. always hearing something sarcastic, mostly when it's least appropriate.

fifteen. flicking porn videos way too much because there's always too much talking or romantic music. blegh.

sixteen. asking you to come home from work early because I need an orgasm {or fifty} and my vibrator just won't cut it. & then you come home to find me watching porn and writing grocery shopping lists.

seventeen. seeing me in pyjamas and/or underwear 95% of the time.

eighteen. always squeezing your blackheads and trying not to mind when it turns me on.

nineteen. also having sex after Cape Fear or anything of that ilk. always.

twenty. loving me when I least deserve it.


I'm just a dream aren't I?