Month: January 2014

les faux pas.

This little bubba has turned six months old! Roughly. Whatever. Who actually needs an excuse to eat cake?

The vast majority of the time we use the French phrase “faux pas” to refer to a social blunder or awkwardness caused by not conforming to what society has deemed the norm. However, when you translate it directly from the French, “faux pas” means “false step” (although I think you could also say “misstep” or “incorrect step”). When it’s translated like that it makes me think of someone strolling blundering along their path in life (ooooh, deep and meaningful and we’re only in the first paragraph! Shut up, Alex.) It is a mistake, a trip on a rock you didn’t see was there or stacking it when you lose your balance walking through some mud.

Unintentional missteps and mistakes.

Fun fact for you: this blog is about half a year old! Yay! Half a birthday cake! It’s strange that it simultaneously feels like a lot shorter and longer than six months (if you know what I mean). Anyway. Thank you for your readership, you gorgeous squirrels.

Now, it wouldn’t be a real half birthday without reflecting on the past six months together. Here are some of my reflections (delivered to you as a conversation between me, myself and I. (Yeah. I know. I probably should stop talking to myself aloud sometime soon…)

Image“Let them eat half a cheesecake. ” – Marie Antoinette ft. Alex

Hi, Alex. So, what has your experience of blogging been like thus far?

A1: Hi! It’s been great, thanks. I really enjoy it and I’m so glad that I realised that I get a kick out of stringing words together. That was a very good light bulb moment, indeed.

A2: Yeah, I’m loving it, too. In fact, it’s got to the stage where, if things are going pear-shaped  I type it out of my system as a way of de-stressing. So, yeah, I guess in some ways it’s therapeutic.

Do you have any suggestions as to how the imperfect peach could improve or where you’d like to see it going?

A2: Well, I think that as you expand that mind of yours, Alex, that your content will begin to shift naturally.

Was that a politically correct way of suggesting that we have fewer Alex’s love life and failing-at-life-moments posts?

A2: Ha! Well, not necessarily. Although, I guess you do expose yourself quite a lot, don’t you? I mean, I know there were times when it was a big thing to select the “Publish Post” button and putting things which were intensely private out on the interweb was a big deal… but there are times when I worry that you cross the line and over-share that bit too much.

A1: Hmm. But you know what? For many reasons, I’m proud of you for having done that. For the stuff which was hard to post I think publishing it allowed you to let go of it and to move past it. And anyway, if you don’t laugh at yourself what’s the other option? Cry?

A2: True. Also, you have such a tendency to accumulate failing-at-life moments and love life drama that I’m sure you’ll still be sharing some of them in the way you currently do. But maybe it’d be helpful to wear a sign saying “If you ask me out on a date, there is a high chance that I shall make an anonymous reference to you in a future blog post.”

A1: OHMYGOD! Someone please make that sign!

Haha. Thanks, guys. Do you have any other suggestions for the the imperfect peach going forwards?

A1: Well, although I enjoy your failing-at-life moments and reading about your love life, I’ve been meaning to ask, can we change up the content a bit, please? Not totally, but I’m thinking about adding some other stuff into the mix. Perhaps some posts which are career-oriented or deal with the pre-moving out of home stage, for example, which are both very pertinent to your life at the moment.

Yeah. Ok, thanks. I like that idea. 

A2: And fewer faux pas…


A1: What are you referring to?

A2: Well, I know there has been at least one time when you’ve posted stuff that one or two friends have found insensitive and hurtful. I know it wasn’t ever intentional and that your motivation wasn’t to upset anyone, but I think you need to be more mindful of how the people in your Real Life may feel about what you write going forwards.

I completely agree. Point taken. I’m going to be very conscious of that.

A1: Although the faux pas haven’t been ideal, it’s interesting to note that the fact that you’ve stuffed up is in keeping with your theme of “imperfection”…

A2: Observant as ever, A1.

I hadn’t thought of that either, but I guess it’s true; imperfection is my area of specialisation… Anything else which you ladies would like to add before we wrap up?

A1: Keep on tapping that keyboard, Alex. But not too much. You have a tendency to waffle. Keep it short and simple. If you can express it in fewer words, do so.

A2: But don’t force it. Life is too short to invest time in things which you feel ambivalent about.

Thanks, A1 and A2! 

A1: Bye, Alex!

A2: And happy half birthday, the imperfect peach!

And with that I am going to go on holidays.*


Alex x

*Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still going to be blogging whilst I’m away. Yes, that’s right: I am still going to provide you with something to help you waste 10 minutes of your day. Yay!

is that a challenge?

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.”
– N. Mandela.

Although I do forget it sometimes, it is a well-established fact in my life that I relish a challenge.

My brother, whom I fondly refer to as The Sibling, is the comedian of our family. One of ‘his’ lines from a few years ago is, without a doubt, “IS THAT A CHALLENGE?!” delivered with a mock booming voice (which isn’t that hard for him considering how low his voice is). So, “Is that a challenge?!” definitely has a special (and random) place within our family’s vernacular.

I digress.

Now, you may or may not remember that a few posts ago I mentioned that I had some Contentment items on my 2014 Bucket List. You may be asking, “How can you make contentment an item you can tick off a Bucket List, Alex?”. To which I would respond,
“You are a smart cookie and, in short, you can’t.”
Then you give me that cute confused look that you do oh, so well.

See, rather than creating something to do this year, I’ve come up with something to not do.

It all began a few weeks ago when I was chatting with a close girlfriend of mine. She’s someone who listens to me ramble about my latest love life, man drama, sagas various and their accompanying stress on a pretty regular basis. i.e. she’s a gem and a patient gem at that. We were discussing Tinder (naturally) as we were crossing Oxford Street at Taylor Square when she shared her recent observations of my love life and I. It went down something like this:

Her: “I don’t think you’ve been very happy.”
Me: “Oh?”
Her: “Yeah. You were really happy being single and now you’re not.”
Me: “Hmm. I think you may have a point… When do you think it started? Post-Hot Muso?”
Her: “No. I think it was just before him.”
Me: “So, around the time I started using Tinder?”
Her: …
Me: “This could explain a lot…”, as I hit my head against a myriad of light bulbs which had suddenly been illuminated.

It took me a bit of time to unravel exactly why Tinder, aka Ego Stroke In The Palm of Your Hand, had actually turned someone who was very happily going about her life with a big dollop of contentment into someone who was (even more) preoccupied with her love life (than usual)… and someone who suddenly found it very dissatisfying.

Here’s my hypothesis: I found Tinder disappointing. See, if you’re inundated with a myriad of ‘matches’ then it’s reasonable to think, “Hey! There’s actually a fairly solid chance that something could actually come of this Tinder thing!”, right? Well, anyway, that was my subconscious logic. And then for nothing (positive) to really come of Tinder I was left feeling… well, disappointed. No, actually ‘disappointed’ isn’t the right word. It made me feel like a less valuable version of myself, because I reasoned that if nothing came to fruition for me on Tinder for god’s sake then what kind of hope did I have in the Real World?

So, during my experience of Tinder I basically went from:




and then






and then finally


Tinder didn’t make me feel good about myself. The Ego Stroke high lasts for about 5 seconds – just in the way that you can have a mega sugar high and then crash after a slurpee. Tinder is my crappy sugar – no real sustenance or nourishment. I started Tinder in a place of contentment and what did I get from it? A big fat wad of discontentment. Brilllliant.

Once I had FINALLY come to this realisation, I knew that going back on Tinder wouldn’t make the discontentment go away. So, I decided when I was writing my Bucket List for this year that my challenge would be to go for a year without any form of online dating. Tinder. RSVP. OkCupid. eHarmony. Zoosk. Elite Singles. Seeking Arrangement. Be2. Ashley Madison. Match. ALL. OF. THEM.*

That’s right, chipmunks: three hundred and sixty-five days sans online dating. Of any kind.


Uhh. Yes, it is. Also, how the hell will you survive, Alex?!

My internal protests lasted for about twenty eight seconds, because as soon as I committed myself to it, I was surprised to realise that I felt tangibly more peaceful. I exhaled deeply. I hadn’t even realised how shallow my breathing had been – it had been that long. Bizarrely enough, I think I found the knowledge that there would be no online dating rather comforting.

Of course, I do genuinely wonder if I’ll meet anyone interesting this year, but I do find it encouraging to remind myself that all of our parents and older family friends met each other without the help of RSVP and eHarmony. It’s also reassuring to know that I do have a track record of meeting people in somewhat bizarre places (if you can consider that reassuring?)

It’s been tempting to log back in over the past nearly four weeks, but so far I haven’t gone back to the dark side… and the vast majority of the time I think I really like it this way. I can feel the contentment I’ve missed so badly slowly, drowsily waking up from its anesthetic.

And anyway, there’s the chance that when I’m spending less time looking down at my smartphone screen I’ll be able to make eye-contact with more gents in real life…


…. and perhaps one of them will bear some resemblance to Dan Humphrey.
Alex x

* I would like to assure you that I did not have an account for each of these. (Or did I?) No, Alex, you didn’t.

I still call you home.

ImageTanned beach babe = AUSTRALIAN.

I fell in love with the Wallabies prior to the realisation that muscular men in rugby shorts will always be a bit of a turn on for me. Despite not always being on the ball with their most recent happenings (see what I did then?), whenever I’m actually sitting there in front of the flat screen, watching the game, they become my passion once again.

When I watched my first game about a decade ago Qantas was the Wallabies’ major sponsor, as they remain today. For those of you who grew up in Australia it would’ve been hard to miss their iconic ads. (You can refresh your memories here.)* I used to get teary just listening to the children singing “I Still Call Australia Home” with the panoramas of our rather baben world flashing across the tv screen. Add Matt Giteau converting a try into the mix and I was on an emotional rollercoaster during every ad break. Yeah. I know. Needless to say that I think that the new Qantas ads are fairly s#!t, but let’s save that critique for another day.

What songs remind you of home and of your nation? For me (child with a predominantly 70s and 80s music education) they are:
Khe Sanh – Cold Chisel (God, I love this song.)
Sounds of Then (This is Australia) – Ganggajang
Don’t Dream It’s Over – Crowded House
Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
(Land) Down Under – Men at Work
Great Southern Land – Icehouse

Outback = AUSTRALIA.

For those of you who don’t live in Australia or those of you who are on holidays in a serious way and don’t know whether we’re still in January or not, it’s Australia Day this weekend. It’s our day. Our national day. Or, alternatively, the public holiday where we all generally go to the beach, beer in hand whilst listening to Triple J’s Hottest 100.

As awesome as that stereotype is, there’s a part of me which feels pressured to celebrate Australia Day in a certain way… and the whole thing has had me asking myself what on earth it actually means to be Australian. What identifies you as an Aussie? How can you be so sure?

Is it…

  1. Being born in Australia?
  2. Holding Australian citizenship?
  3. Holding an Australian passport?
  4. Being born of one (or two) Australian parents?
  5. Living in Australia?
  6. Being an Indigenous Australian?
  7. Having an ocker accent?
  8. Using the words “mate”, “sheila” and “beaut” in your everyday vernacular?
  9. Only drinking VB?
  10. Feeling like it’s really summer when you settle in to watch the Boxing Day Test?Image
  11. Being able to differentiate between a kangaroo and a wallaby?
  12. Thinking that the majority of the population was drunk when they cast their vote in last year’s election?
  13. Knowing that Wagga Wagga is a place and that Woop Woop isn’t?
  14. Having a deep tan and sun-bleached hair?
  15. Being able to surf?
  16. Riding your pet kangaroo to work each day?
  17. Maintaining that Item 16 is true whenever a tourist asks?
  18. Salivating at the thought of Vegemite, Tim Tams, pavlovas, Anzac cookies, meat pies, Gaytimes or lamingtons?


  19. Being Caucasian? Oh, I know it’s not politically correct, but be honest with yourself here, chump.
  20. Knowing a “barbie” is so much more than a doll?
  21. Knowing that Sydney is not Australia’s capital?
  22. Being branded with a Southern Cross tattoo?
  23. Punching a random person to the ground when you’re out on a Saturday night just for fun?
  24. Shedding crocodile tears when Steve Irwin died? Bloody sting rays.
  25. Accepting that you’ll never be able to afford any property, so you’ve resigned yourself to bumming off Centrelink and renting until you die?
  26. Sleeping under the stars in a swag in the Outback?
  27. Supporting Your Team through thick and thin?
  28. Smiling at the phrase “How’s the serenity?”?
  29. Eating kiwis only because you like the metaphor?
  30. Knowing you’re home when you smell the waft of eucalyptus leaves?


  31. Knowing that funnel webs and brown tails are deadly and that koalas aren’t as cuddly as they look?
  32. Being able to recite the Don’s batting records?
  33. Only knowing the first verse of “Advance Australia Fair”?
  34. Knowing in your heart of hearts that “Here’s to Steve! He’s true blue! He’s a piss pot through and through!” is your true anthem?

What is it? What makes you or anyone else Australian? Or differentiates them as not being Australian, for that matter.

See, I don’t know about you, but I don’t fit that stereotype or ideal of what being Australian is. It’s not like I have any particular issues with this kangaroo-shaped cookie cutter (apart from Item 23), but where does that leave me and everyone else who doesn’t have a Southern Cross tattoo emblazoned across their shoulder blade? Does that make us less Australian?


How about our friends who aren’t “white”? So non-PC, Alex. I know it is, but from my perspective, despite living in a city which is home to a multitude of different ethnic groups and races, I question how truly accepting we are of those around us. It disgusts me to admit that I have my own stereotyped prejudices of different ethnic groups within our community. Not many, but a few, nonetheless – and that doesn’t make it any less judgmental, hurtful or unfair towards those people. Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like we’re multicultural in theory, but not in practice.

Not yet, at least.


Since when did “being Australian” become something we could quantify and measure? (“What do you mean you’ve never watched a game of AFL?! That’s un-Australian!”) And who are any of us to tell the person sitting next to us on the train whether they’re allowed to call this country home?

So, whether you’re cheering along to your favourite song of 2013 on the countdown; sipping a stubbie on the beach; answering calls at work; eating your fourth second slice of lamington; napping on the couch or just having a regular day; I hope you have a great day on Sunday and that you enjoy your long weekend.

I think I can speak for many of us in saying that, whatever we’re doing come Sunday, we’re pretty bloody lucky. No, Australia isn’t perfect (“border protection” policy, lack of marriage equality and Sydney’s public transport, here’s looking at you!), but I think we can all agree that it’s still pretty f#*king awesome… and, if we want to, we should all be allowed to call this mesmerising continent our home.


Alex x

* Please note that, yes, I did get teary when I watched this – partly because I had four versions to decide between for the hyperlink and partly just cos.

the bucket list 2014.


All of the images in this post are from Miami Horror’s “Holidays” film clip, simply because I think it’s rather awesome. You can watch it here.

It has only taken me nineteen days of this year, but I have finally written my 2014 Bucket List. You took your time.

You may remember that I’ve talked about this annual Bucket List thing before. If not, that’s ok. I won’t hold it against you. Basically, for me, making New Years Resolutions is a sweet idea, but “idea” is the operative word and “idea” is where it usually ends. So, rather than inevitably forgetting about the fact that I wrote resolutions in the first place and then getting to the 30th of December and saying “S#!%! I still haven’t learnt how to do the splits!” I now make an annual Bucket List. The idea is that it gets me to do stuff rather than being wishy washy and airy fairy. I’m the kind of girl who needs concrete stuff which can be crossed off a list.

The items range from the large and shall-be-challenging to the truly mundane to the you’ve-done-this-before, but it helps to remind me to do things I want to do and enjoy doing throughout the year. In addition to this, my logic is that if I slowly chip away at The Big Bucket List each year then I won’t get to 84 and realise that I have a huge list of things that I’ve always wanted to do that I have not done and not much time to do them in.

Initially I felt disconcertingly ambivalent and uninspired at the prospect of writing a new Bucket List… and mildly pressured by the fact that, up until the 7th of January, it felt like everyone was asking me about what my resolutions were. Oh, the pressure. Thankfully, I finally sat down earlier this week, oil pastel crayons and textas  in hand, and let it rip. I like oil pastels, ok? 

This year I decided I’d start with New Years Resolution style themes and then turn them into tangible items for Le Bucket List which I hope to will achieve during the year ahead.

Image2014: Get a boyfriend who resembles Zoidberg from “Futurama”. Got that one in the can.

Four pages and some oil-smeared fingers later and I can present to you the edited version* of my 2014 Bucket List, categorised by their themes:

Financial Management

  • Create your first ever budget and hold yourself accountable to whether you stick to it or not.
  • Set up a regular saving mechanism (you know, the automatic transfer thing with your bank account) with the long, long-term goal of buying an investment property… which will probably be somewhere in the desert between Sydney and Perth but hey, it’ll be a start.


  • Save up and pay for my own travel/holiday.
  • Explore a new place/city/country.
  • Go on a road trip.


  • Make five good new friends.
  • Re-invest in/repair one broken relationship. (Am I allowed to clarify that I don’t have that many relationships to choose from for this? Ok. Thanks.)
  • Write 20 letters (or emails) to friends who live overseas. NB: Facebook messages do not count as emails.

Expanding my mind

  • Read 12 new authors.
  • Read one mind-opening article (or similar) every second day. NB: Daily Mail does not count as ‘mind-opening’. Also, keep a list of what you’ve read until you’re not having to remind yourself to read said articles.
  • Take a screenshot of your current most visited webpages. You know, the one that you see when you open a new tab on Google Chrome. By the end of the year have eight different websites there – sites which help to expand your mind and your world.

Fun things, new things and laughing more

  • Try three new things.
  • Play poker.
  • Have a water fight.
  • Go sailing.
  • Try stand up paddle boarding.
  • Try a new hairstyle – it’s overdue.
  • Go to some stand up comedy.
  • Host a party.
  • Sew something substantial. (I’m thinking a dress or a skirt.)

ImageI realllly dislike my hair getting all f-ed up by the wind and going all over my face. Perhaps I should add letting it get f-ed up to the Bucket List…


  • Master five new recipes.
  • Do an invention test. i.e. create a culinary delight without a recipe or help from your mum. i.e. wing it with a random assortment of ingredients and see what happens.
  • Host a dinner party.

Uni, post-uni and career

  • Finish your degree!
  • Write one flipping fantastic uni essay prior to your completion of the aforementioned degree.
  • Apply for a yet to be decided number of graduate programmes, both Sydney and non-Sydney based.
  • Do some writing about marketing stuff.
  • Complete at least one more internship prior to finishing uni.
  • Make a kick arse back-up plan to use in the event that you find yourself utterly unemployed at the start of 2015. Also, make sure that the back-up plan involves living in Italy.

Giving more

  • Volunteer on a regular basis.


  • Complete one creative project/piece of work.
  • Go to a life-drawing class.
  • Go to five different art exhibitions.


  • (I think I’m going to write a whole post on this so do you mind waiting until next week and then we can pick this up again? Ok. Thanks for that.)


  • Make some concrete plans for moving out at the end of 2014/start of 2015.
  • Try your hand at house sitting to get yourself ready for moving out.

Living a green life

  • Make five changes to your lifestyle to live a more environmentally-friendly life.
  • Make five changes to your life to make it more ethically and globally conscious and to support social justice.
  • Take five steps to live a more natural/organic/earth-conscious life – particularly in relation to food, skincare and beauty.

I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to need all of the determination and discipline I can muster, but either way,  I’ll be sure to let you know how I go.

Alex x

* I have to keep some things to myself, cherubs. And anyway, I’m pretty sure there’s something about not sharing everything in “The Ultimate Guide to Feminine Mystique”.
(Are you going to Google that?)

number one.

I have a confession to make.

Recently I became That Girl.

Uhh, which girl are you referring to, Alex? The one who ate all of that gingerbread house? Or the one who fulfilled her dream of becoming an international darts champion?

Sorry. Clarification: by “That Girl” I mean “That Girl Who Really Mucked With A Guy’s Mind” i.e. doing stuff that I don’t think is a helpful thing for women to do.

(Yes, That Girl.)

It took place during a series of events akin to that kids game show on TV, “Go, Go, Stop”. Do any other 90s kids remember that one? Anyway the essence is pretty self-explanatory. You Go, you Go, you Stop. There we were, this gent and I. Add some attraction and alcohol into the mix and blah blah etc etc lip action blah blah etc etc.

Later on in the evening I had the opportunity to collect my thoughts and my brain whilst in the bathroom… which turned into a two minute Deep and Meaningful with some white tiles, during which time I realised that this thing with this gent wasn’t what I wanted. So I went back to him and told him that I was pulling on the emergency handbrake.

Huh? Excuse me! Wait! Hold up! You’re telling me that you were attracted to this guy, but then you said ‘NO’ to him?!?

Uhhh… Yes.

Ok. It’s official: You. Have. Lost. Your. Mind.

Yes, it would appear that way and unfortunately it meant that I left one lovely gent really, really confused. To quote him, “I just don’t get it”. (Understatement of the year thus far). And to be perfectly honest I couldn’t figure out at the time why on earth I had pulled on the brakes either. I mean how difficult does it have to be? Two people are attracted to each other then (insert magical POOF sound!). It really shouldn’t have to be this complicated.

Thankfully, I was able to wrangle an explanation out of my brain the next day. See, yes, I was being a Bad Alex for mucking with this guy’s head (“Go! Go! STOPPPPPPP!”) but there was something at the back of my mind the whole time: I knew that this guy was my second preference and that there was someone else who I had stronger feelings for.

I don’t know about you, but I have a fairly healthy competitive streak. At school it always came out when the one girl I didn’t like in my grade was anywhere in the vicinity. I am going to beat her at high jump, dammit! What a sweetheart I was. My competitive nature may have calmed down a bit since then, but it does still make the odd appearance in some surprising arenas… such as my love life.

I don’t want to choose to be with my fourth preference by default because numbers one, two and three are unavailable/missing in action/backpacking in Greece or have already left the party. I don’t want to settle for a guy I kinda like.  And similarly, I don’t want to be someone’s second or third or fourth preference. I want to be their first preference. I don’t want to have my friends’ cast offs or to be given attention just because the girl they really want to be with isn’t around. It may sound extremely arrogant and self-conceited, but whomever it is, I want to be with a man I’m really attracted to rather than one I’m going to just settle for. If I’m going to place an order, I would like my first preference from the menu, thank you very much.

(That last bit just made men sound like food. It was unintentional… I think.)

And so that, sweet turtles, was my round about way of justifying doing something which I’m not particularly proud of (i.e. mucking with a guy’s mind)*.

It’s times like these that I’m surprised that men haven’t given up on women (like me) all together. (I type that with the hope that there are some other women out there who are as equally deranged as yours truly).

Justification ramble is over. Time for sleep.

Alex x

* Some advice: do not try this at home, or in public for that matter. It is guaranteed that heads will be injured in the process.

twenty thirteen.

So, I didn’t make it onto the “Let’s reflect on 2013 at the end of 2013” bandwagon during the final weeks of December. My mother thinks I am the epitome of disorganisation (particularly in regards to my bedroom). Although I beg to differ I will concede that I am not known for doing things with great speed

ImageLet’s all take a minute to enjoy one of my favourite quotes from “The Devil Wears Prada”.
Ok. Let’s continue.

Despite missing the traditional window of time to reflect upon the year that has passed, I still have my reflecting-upon-2013 to do. So, let’s get cracking, rascals.

My 2013 was… normal and relatively uneventful. Well, in the sense that nothing cataclysmically, diabolically life-changing happened – my life just had its regular ups and downs with its usual dose of melodrama and randomness inbetween. My friend, on the other hand, had a phenomenal year. Here’s the status update she posted the other week:

Turned 21.
Fell in love.
Finished my degree.
Moved out of home.
Started my dream job.
Met new fantastic friends.
Been accepted into a new challenging role for next year. 
All in all, life can keep going just the way it is 🙂

Now, I’d like to clarify that I am not the jealous type (or at least I don’t think I am…). On the contrary, I am with all sincerity, ridiculously happy for my friend who had a splendid year. But from reading updates like that my 2013 feels a bit lame in comparison. I don’t feel like I achieved anything particularly great.

I mentioned this to another friend and she was kind enough to remind me that, in general, we social media bunnies only share the awesome moments in life on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and co. Most of us leave the boring, disappointed, sad and frustrated moments out of sight of our 429 Facebook ‘friends’. She also finished by encouraging me to not compare myself to others because, according to her, I had achieved lots of things during my year. “Yeah? Like what?” I thought… But it got me thinking anyway…

She’s a great friend, that one. And she’s got a good brain on her shoulders, too.

The result of her advice was this:

Turned 21 22.
Fell in love… with Game of Thrones… and Jon Snow.
Finished another year of my seemingly never-ending degree which started with my best semester ever and was then followed by my worst ever.
Moved out of home on. (See: that time when my ex got married.)
I continued doing a Started my dream job I absolutely love (nannying).
Met new fantastic friends. 
Been accepted into a new challenging role for next year. 
I realised that I quite like stringing words together into sentences and so I started this blog.
I branched out and tried new things (Latin dancing and pilates) – both of which I really enjoy and I now do on a regular basis.
I learnt a lot about myself and I think that I grew a lot as a person.
I got my first role without using any connections, but through a traditional interview process. (Admittedly, it was not a paid position (intern!), but I was still chuffed, ok?)

It may not have been a perfect or spectacular year, but all in all, life can keep going just the way it is. 

Alex x

instant crush.

Image“Uhh, 18 yards. That’s my house there with the blue front door.”
– William Thacker, Notting Hill.


It’s that time of the year again. And by ‘that time of the year’ I mean ‘the time of the year when we get to vote in Triple J’s Hottest 100’. Obvs. 

I am yet to vote because I am still compiling My List, but something that I can say with surety is that I do have a particular soft spot for this song. (That’s “Instant Crush” by Daft Punk ft. Julian Casablancas if you couldn’t be bothered to look at the hyperlink.) It just makes me want to dance. No, actually, it just makes me dance. God, I love it.

It’s a funny notion the idea of instant attraction, isn’t it? I, being the romcom-loving cheese ball that I am, adore those moments in movies when the two characters who we all know are going to end up together meet each other for the first time. Hollywood has a way of making those moments – whatever they are – sparkle. The result of this for me is that I am always, secretly (well, no longer so secretly), on the hunt for these moments in my own life. And if I can’t find them sometimes I go ahead and create them. I don’t recommend trying that one at home. I am sure you can find something better to do with your time and plus, you end up looking and acting like a stalker. Cute!

I know there have been many scientific studies on attraction – dissecting it into factors, variables, chemicals, hormones, the symmetry of facial features, scent and body language. However, I am no scientist – sorry to disappoint – but I have done some of my own fieldwork, I guess…


A few weeks ago I decided I’d give Tinder another whirl. Yeah, I know. Again. My ego wanted a stroke and there’s something about that notification of another Tinder match that is disturbingly unparalleled, ok? Online dating of any sort is a funny thing. Expectations, hopes and reality can collide in such volatile and surprising ways. It becomes a particularly funny thing if and when you get around to meeting up with someone.

Their photo caught your eye. Their blurb made you smile. You start chatting. They seem nice. They ask if you want to meet up. You accept. (And then you stalk them on as many social media platforms as you can think of.)

You drive to the date with the vague comfort that you already know this person a little. Well, in a way. But as you’re sitting at the appointed bar/cafe/restaurant waiting for them to arrive it’s all a game of chance, isn’t it? They’re going to walk in. Say hi. Sit down in front of you. And then, within seconds, perhaps less, you’ll know. All of your online conversations and analyses of their profile pictures become irrelevant when you make eye contact for the first time.

There’s a pair of green eyes – clear sea green – staring back across at me. We fill the gaps in the conversation with glances in opposite directions, deliberately wasting seconds. I part with an “It was nice to meet you” as I give him a peck on the cheek and turn to walk across the road.


Then, on the other hand, attraction can catch you off guard, arriving with a thwack to the side of your head…

You have mutual friends and you happen to go up to the bar at the same time at a recent gathering. You haven’t spoken that much before, but you get chatting and then you end up sitting next to each other later on.

As it turns out they’re lovely, interesting and they have substance. Laughter intermingles with the Pimms. And then you turn to properly look at him. There’s a pair of eyes – a tie-dye of tropical waters bordering upon a reef, with a ribbon of golden sand winding its way between the aqua and turquoise – and they’re utterly mesmirising.

Later you’re lying upon the floor with your mutual friend and she happens to bring him up during the conversation. It is then that your brain starts to put the pieces together.

I don’t think you are.
You can’t be.
It’s inconceivable.
Hold on a sec.
Actually… I think you could be.
Oh, man.

Here we go again. Perhaps. I think.

Oh, and Happy New Year, chipmunks.

Alex x