Waste Paper?

In the last few months, I've been thinking more about my future than ever before. I got back from Europe, fresh from a world of adventure and culture with my heart set on moving to London. I wanted to do nothing more than pack up my life and venture into the big city and become a big girl, and live a life full of plays in the West End, shopping in Oxford St and being immersed in a busy world of independence.

Technically; I've done what I needed to do in Perth now. I've finished my degree, and bar my graduation ceremony in March(and my slowly dwindling down car loan) , I've got nothing left to hold me here. The longer I'm surrounded by people who are seemingly progressing into adult lives, the more I feel frustrated that we don't have to follow that stringent path of life.

Our culture is obsessed with the focus of paper. Paper dominates our lives: university degrees, marriage certificates, money, passports, citizenship certificates, tenancy agreements, deeds, bills. Why are we so focused on earning pieces of paper to define our success and happiness?


I was chatting to a friend the other day who has recently gotten married. Married in the sense that they love each other and it felt "right". I appreciate when you enter a formal commitment in that sense; but I'm tired of the endless conversation amongst people of feigning domestic bliss and the epitomy of their life's fulfillment resulting in wearing a white dress.

Live a little.

Perhaps I'm no where close to building a house, or having a baby, or even having a rock to show I'll (apparently) be eternally loved; but I've done pretty fuckin' good for a 20 year old. I've lived in 3 countries (thanks to my parents), traveled around 20 more, gotten a degree, made it without becoming a teenage mother, left when others wouldn't have, beared more pain than most would even comprehend, and still come out smiling.

I want my life to be fulfilled by laughs I share with friends, places I visit, moments that are sacred, whether that be staring at the Cote D'Azur (which I've done :D), or catching someone's eyes, or feeling bloody proud of yourself for something small and insignificant to someone else. I don't want to depend on paper to symbolise that apparently, my life is going well. If a home and a conventional, socially "norm" life is all that you've ever wanted, then love it. But your life should always be normal according to you.

All you've got to ask yourself is, do you wake up everyday with a smile on your face, or at least a speckle of hope that you can control your life and your happiness?

And if I've got to settle for paper... Give me plane tickets, love letters and books :)

The Optimistic Scrooge.

For my family, Christmas has been a unusual tradition for the last seven years. We've traded snow and huge roast dinners for blazing hot Christmas days with a barbeque feast. So, I suppose in some sense the further alterations to this year's Christmas shouldn't make as much of a difference, but this Christmas will feel more surreal than ever before.

It's going to be just me and mum. Not that I don't love my mum, but Christmas is about family and my dad's going to be working 11 hours away in the harshness of the Australian outback. My brother's moved out; and whilst he's popping around in the morning for present swapping, our family will literally be divided for this year's festivities. We'll spend the afternoon with our fellow family friends from England which will be the comfort for our sense of home this Christmas.

I love Christmas. I truly do. I love to buy people gifts, and to see their reactions. I love the optimism that spreads around due to the upcoming holiday season, and joining together to see everyone you care for.

While we've all got our pet peeves over Christmas (I won't even go near a shopping mall this week) and children's obession with their upcoming presents for months beforehand; I think adults share a similar sense of nervousness when considering the scope of their lives and happiness.

Christmas often brings a sense of postponement that other holidays can't deliver. People put off things around Christmas; they don't want to be responsible for causing pain during the holiday season. By all accounts we'll resist having that serious talk with someone or pushed back an inevitable breakup due to the upcoming day of celebration. But why delay the inevitable? And how is this one day of year going to erase the bad and give you the perfect present you've desired?

I think in some senses, Christmas evokes this false sense of hope and hesitation. People try to string together and pull through in the knowledge that it's Christmas time, and at Christmas time you shouldn't be responsible for causing pain. Christmas day has big boots to fill; and I'm not talking about Santa's. Perhaps we should all focus on our situations now, not plan how to perfect an inperfect situation just for Christmas.

While I hope this day that evokes family, giving and happiness brings people back together on a long term basis or helps to mend your woe, surely it's cruel to pretend for a day, if that's your only intentions.

For many of us, Christmas is not a relgiious celebration but a capitalistic Hallmark tradition borrowing symbols and rituals from a variety of religions and cultures (the Dutch's Sinta Klauss and pagan tree traditions; for example). What Christmas represents to the majority is a day of presents and piss-ups.

By all means, I wish for us all to enjoy this year's Christmas, and realise how lucky we are to have healthy and happy lives. Gift giving is one of my favourite parts of Christmas, and we should all value the way the day brings us more together. However, we should apply this attitude to each day, and count our happiness on a daily basis, not on an annual review; when a tree, an old man with a beard and stack of presents have to remind us to.

Bah, humbug.

You've Got To Laugh

Or you’d cry?

Not necessarily.

“Men are bastards. After about ten minutes I wanted to cut off my own penis with a kitchen knife.” – Will, About a Boy.

There’s not much new to that, if you ask any woman (or in some cases, man), who’ll rapidly offer a story depicting woe and some wanker. Post break up and ready to drown my sorrows in true Bridget-esque style (though I wasn’t too bad), of course I had to run into someone from my past. He agreed: “men are bastards. That’s why I’m dating a girl.”

So after two to three months, my stint as a couple was practically over before it began. It ended amicably enough – we’re both planning to move to entirely different parts of the world and our lives and plans simply weren’t compatible. So, I’m now faced with the dilemmas of post break up behaviour. Friends? People who speak? Or someone that you have to avoid if you run into them in the shops, or at a pub?

Through chatting to my best friend and seeing more and more unbreakable couples break, I’m coming to the conclusion that perhaps it’s something to do with age, and relationship inexperience. My first serious boyfriend was three years of teenage angst and using me as the solution and cure to his depression. The next one was a train wreck in itself; but I did love him, and learnt a lot along the way. After feeling that gut wrenching heartbreak, we’re all at least once due for, I travelled, dated (some shockers too), and grew up.

So onto the next one I was more confident of what I wanted from him; or a boyfriend in general, but stuck on my single and fabulous! (exclamation point!) dreams of the future. He was lovely and we never fought but I feel back on track and more eager to jump right into my future than ever before.

We’ve long since realised the idealistic tale of meeting and being with your one and only is too good to be true, yet so many people aspire to it with each new partner, as though the past can be deleted and has no swaying on the person you are, and why somebody loves you.

Perhaps I’m sadistic and my optimistic trite is fading away, or perhaps when I’m loved up it’ll grow again; but age is often a problem too. We’re barely familiar with ourselves at this age, let alone how we are as a partner. Perhaps each boyfriend and breakup sets the standard for who we are, and what we need in the future.

But for some optimism; you can’t value love without pain, and you should feel the welt of each heartbreak with the new found joys of your future.

Spoken like a true masochist.