words, actions and the vast chasm in between.

Dissecting a state of paralysis.

ImagePhoto courtesy of Jeen Na.

“Change your life today. Don’t gamble on the future, act now, without delay.”
– Simone de Beauvoir

“Live the life that you want to live today.”
– Just some words I wrote on a piece of paper which I then stuck on my wall


Funnily enough, writing this post has me thinking about this one time when I was squished in the backseat of a stranger’s car with three other people in the middle of the night driving along empty streets. As you do. 

At the party we had just left my friend and I had – unbeknownst to each other – both been eyeing off umm flirting with politely chatting to the most attractive guy there. At the conclusion of the evening he kissed one of us while the other was collecting their stuff. Then, in the car on the way home, someone else in the car shared that he had told her that he was interested in one of the Sydney girls… the one he didn’t kiss.

Oh, and at this point in time I was more or less sitting on top of this friend (seeing as we were still doing the sardine-in-the-backseat-without-seat-belts-oh-my-god-such-rebels thing).


“Words and actions,” I said loud enough for her to hear, looking straight ahead.


I am not wise; I pretend to be wise. I can rattle off things which certainly sound wise, much to my father’s annoyance. Why does this irritate him? Because wisdom without discipline is futile. And I epitomise wisdom without discipline.

See, I may know what’s good for me, but do I actually employ any of these tidbits of awesome into my own life?

Ahh no. I can definitely vouch for the fact that it’s a no. Ok, no need to be overly enthusiastic, Alex. A simple “no” was sufficient.

Want some examples?

Do I know that ice-cream is not a “health food”? Yes.
And so what did your diet consist of over your recent break? Umm. Ice cream. Maybe. Perhaps. Definitely. Yeah, so mainly ice cream.

Do you know that exercising on a more regular basis would improve your fitness, energy levels, skin, mood and overall health? Yes, I do know that.
And how many times have you exercised this week, Alex? Ahh minus twice. (I didn’t even know that was possible.)

Do you know how to make more financially responsible decisions so that you can save money for travel? Yes, it’s called not going on Asos.
And did you receive yet another parcel from Asos yesterday? Ahh yes. Yes, I did.

Do you know that going to bed earlier is immeasurably good for your health and wellbeing? Yeah, I feel ah-mazing after getting an early night.
And how often do you do this? Twice a year… max.

Do you know that you gain very little from sitting at your laptop? (Well, apart from testing the strength of your self-esteem by playing peer-comparison games on Facebook and knowing every detail of the Duchess of Cambridge’s wardrobe.) I’m sure that my stalker-esque knowledge of Kate’s wardrobe will come in handy one day. It will, I swear.

My saving grace is that I do drink water and I floss my teeth on a semi-regular basis (which is better than “never”, right?)


I am full of words. My words create blog posts, but they do not generate actions. I talk a good game. I’ve read hundreds of articles about a) fitness b) health c) getting what you want out of life d) being a better person e) blah blah blah.

I don’t need any more knowledge (seeing as nearly all of the articles can be reduced to the same thesis). I have all of the major building blocks I need. Perhaps lots of life stuff isn’t that complicated, but that we make it complicated so that we don’t have to can postpone tackling our issues… (Please note that that was an inadvertent “I am Alex and I am so wise” comment. See what I’m talking about?!)

Yet I prefer to read articles similar to previous articles about “Living Your Best Life”, rather than actually making changes so that I do live my best life. I have all of the tools already sitting in my handbag (or head). It’s just that I choose to not use them.

Why the hell not, Alex?!

I don’t know. That’s exactly what I’m trying to work out.

Insert literal thinking time here. 

(Disclaimer: I am about to sound like an arrogant twat.) I know that I can do it. I know what I’m capable of and I have a firm belief in my capabilities. I can put my words into actions. I have the drive, willpower and discipline to achieve my goals. I know this because I’ve already proven it to myself. I took all of those traits to the th degree. Which was only very detrimental.

Perhaps that’s it. Perhaps I’m afraid of what my life will become if I fully exercise the full force of my willpower again. I’m afraid that allowing the tidbits of wisdom I have amassed to be transformed into action will turn me into the obsessive person I was. And that scares me and if that’s what would happen I’d much prefer to stay being the unhealthy, hypocritical, arrogant person that I am, thank you very much.

If I put into action the things that I want to be a part of my life my life would be an Instagram feed of green smoothies, early morning runs, national park walks, camping trips, quinoa salads, piles of books I’d (metaphorically) devoured, sunshine, a chic yet rustic apartment, fresh morning air, travel, limbering limbs, laughter, healthy/#clean/gourmet meals, fresh flowers, lunch break walks, re-established evening rituals, organic protein balls, a vintage bike and seeing the stars out in the countryside.

It sounds glorious. And pretty damn healthy and happy. And sickeningly virtuous.

The only thing is that I’m not very skilled in virtue.

I hope I’ll get there. No, I will get there in time, but it’s going to take time. Seeing as I’ve written this post I can’t feasibly get away with doing nothing now (it’s harder to be a hypocrite when you have an audience) I’ll just have to keep taking some very small steps in the meantime.

But until I get past my fear I’ll just have to content myself with watching other people project the beautiful, organic life they (want all of their followers to think they) live on my Instagram feed.


Alex x

PS: And happy Mean Girls anniversary, bitches. #tenyears #sofetch


the most random date of my life: a DIY guide.

A blind date of sorts…

Perhaps it would’ve gone better if I had worn that paper bag, after all…

Once upon a time, about a year ago, I went on the most random date of my life thus far.

Please note that “most random” does not denote “worst”. Oh, no, munchkins – that one is in a whole league of its own.

Well, it all started with a regular night. I was catching the bus home and as I may or may not have had a beverage or three I had a little snooze on the bus. Yes, I know.  Not a good thing to do. Yes, I know. And then I suddenly realised that it was my stop, so I bounded off the bus. Then I was rummaging in my bag after getting into a taxi when I realised that I. Could. Not. Find. My. Phone.


Yeah, I played it cool.

However, I did have a fairly good brainwave when I got home: I’ll call my phone! And so I did just that. A twenty-something male answered to a bombardment of “Hi! Do you have my phone?!”

In between my audible exhalations of relief, this kind gent told me his number and address and said that I could pick it up from his place the next day. Thus, he found himself subsequently bombarded by “OMG! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the BEST!!” multiple times. Enthusiasm in the early hours of the morning is the best type of enthusiasm, right? 

Because I am a devious rascal I went off to bed thinking that I could potentially wrangle a date of sorts out of the situation. My plan: asking if I could buy him a drink as a way of thanking him when I went and collected the phone. Genius!

However, as it so happened, he was heading out of town the next afternoon. So, in the morning he found my Dad’s number in my phone, called him and coordinated for my Dad to collect the phone – which he kindly did – because I was still recovering asleep.

My plans were thwarted. Gahhhh. However, I did casually ask my Dad about what the guy had been like and he got a good review… So, seeing as I still had his number written upon our whiteboard I dropped him a line, again thanking him for his help in getting my phone back to me. My precious. We texted back and forth for a bit before I asked him if I could buy him a drink as a way of saying thank you. He happily agreed and he rocked up at mine that Friday night.

SO. Let’s do a quick recap of what’s happened thus far: a guy on a bus at 2am picked up my phone after I left it on my seat. He returned it to me via my Dad. Oh, and also, I’ve never seen this guy in my whole entire life and I know absolutely nothing about him (apart from the fact that he isn’t the phone-stealing type). No biggie. Yeah, I wasn’t stressing at all.

I walk up to the top of my driveway on Friday night and there’s a guy leaning against his car. I’m not really into cars, but it was more of the “I like cars. I am a man. Be impressed by my wheels” variety than the “this is the oldest, cheapest thing I could find” or the “yeah, it’s my parents'” type. Whatevs. I don’t really care about which car people drive.

We say hi, give each other a kiss on the cheek and get into his car. Yep. That’s right. I’m now in a stranger’s car. Isn’t this exactly what I was taught NOT to do?! God, Alex. Anyway. We drive down to a local beach surrounded by bars and restaurants where we have dinner from some pop-up night food markets. All is going pretty well.

ImageLet’s not lie: I was totally wishing for a Matthew Le Nevez doppleganger. Dreams = unfulfilled. (Photo: Tina Smigielski)

We chat and he is a nice guy and a pretty interesting and intelligent person… but within half an hour I think we both know that we’re not attracted to each other (which is ideal on a date, isn’t it?) After eating we decide to go for a walk cos that’s the kind of thing that people do on dates, right? Within the first 100 metres we bump into two of his friends… which was mildly awkward considering the fact that I’m pretty sure that between us four we were thinking:
“Is this actually a date?”
“Who must they think that I am?”
“He didn’t tell me about her…
“This is not what it looks like.”
“Who is she?”
“When is this going to end?” 

Needless to say that I was pretty relieved when we got back to this walk of ours.

Now, I don’t know about you, but if I go for a walk on a date, it normally means that it’s a ‘Walk’ aka a romantic stroll with the opportunity purpose of canoodling.* Right? However, this walk was not of the ‘Walk’ variety due to a) the aforementioned lack of attraction and b) that he was power walking and thus, I was power walking too… which was probably due to a).

For those of you who know me in real life you may know that I have a tendency to walk fast as my default – this comes from a youth spent running late and trying to make up for this fact by walking faster. Thankfully, my punctuality has improved, but the fast walking has stuck. Except this guy’s fast walking was taking things to a whole new level.

But this wasn’t any old random fast walk. Oh, no. It was a random fast walk in Brand. New. Heels. If you’re not someone who wears heels this equates to the regular breaking in new shoe pain multiplied by a lot. shoes in question.

And this wasn’t any old random fast walk in brand new heels. It was a FOUR KILOMETRE fast walk in brand new heels. I kid you not. It really was. (I measured it on Google Maps and everything). Perhaps he was trying to kill time… So, after four kilometres I thought it would be a great time for a drink. Yes, pleaseeeeee!

But then it got even better, because I found out that he didn’t drink. Yes, that’s right: He. Doesn’t. Drink.

Look, I have nothing against people who don’t drink, but it just really isn’t conducive to dating me because a) I enjoy a drink, b) I will be hoping that you enjoy a drink too and c) it makes dating me a heck of a lot easier – just trust me on this.

This was not the revelation I needed, but I still wanted to be able to thank him for his kindness in returning my phone to me, so we ended up at Max Brenner per his request where he ate a chocolate fondant and we bumped into more of his friends (aka Well, This is Slightly Awkward: Round Two).

Afterwards he dropped me home where we sat at the top of my driveway listening to music in the car. It seemed appropriate to just sit in the car for a bit as a way of making up for our mutual lack of attraction or something. It was like we were going through the motions of “this is what we know we’re meant to do on a date”. But instead of locking lips we blared Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’ song, “Ceiling Can’t Hold Us”.

As it turned out my date knew every single word, which was quite impressive seeing as it was quite new at the time.

I got out of the car after a while, thanking him and saying goodnight, subconsciously taking the song with me in my head. I didn’t know it at the time, but I would end up loving it… to the extent that to this day I can still sing the entire song start to finish, word for word.

So, I guess there are some small, bizarre perks of going on a date with a complete stranger whom you didn’t really meet on a bus after all – especially if you’re like me and you have a soft spot for Macklemore and Ryan Lewis.

Alex x

* I can’t believe I just used that word.