Mother Time Comes For Us All

Holy fuck, it's happened.

Here I was, basking in my youth, frolicking about in the summer sun and living in my prime. Living in ignorance, and yes it was bliss.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I was actually brushing my hair which has become a rarity during my summer holidays. (Don't judge me.)

The light shone directly on to my dark brown locks, but I did a double-take when one of those hairs glittered back at me in the mirror.

I HAVE A GREY HAIR. I'M TWENTY-FUCKING-SIX.

I'd like to tell you I'm above age insecurities, and that I recognise that one little baby hair that's come up grey doesn't make me old any more than the time I dyed my hair fire-engine red made me Ronald McDonald.

Even Ronald doesn't have greys yet.

Look, I didn't think I was invincible. I knew it would happen, and before it did I wasn't particularly dreading the day it did. I just wasn't expecting to spot a grey so bloody early!

Should I go on a mid-life crisis? Perhaps I'll trade my sensible Nissan Pulsar in for a sexy Lexus, with a topless buff man feeding me grapes from the passenger seat. He should definitely be younger than I am- so many middle age men live by 'You're only as old as the person you're feeling', so surely they are on to something. 

Just hanging around, waiting for me to pick him up in my fancy new ride.
So you're telling me he is older than 26? Be quiet you, with your facts. This is my midlife crisis fantasy, not yours.

But alas; I've grown quite fond of Billasaurus, and as a uni student can't afford anything other than my trusty 2 litre Pulsar. 

Have you got greys yet? You can tell me, I'm a trusted elder now. I'm wise.

From Death Fat, to Less Fat?

No pleading apologies about IM SORRRYYYY IVE BEEN SO BUSY READERS, PLEASE FORGGIIIVVVVEEE MEEE because really- I'm sure I will at some point do this again, and also noones lives were adversely affected by my extreme delay in posting.

Except for mine. Missed having a little place to communicate, and having a (admittedly modest) cheer squad.

I've still been reading your blogs- oh I'm creepy like that. I turned lurker. I drew the line at anonymous comments though if it's of any comfort to you.

SO.

I'm fat. We've covered this. Death level fat. (My doctor says morbidly obese, but I have always been dramatic.)

I've been less fat in my life, and I think I was happier that way. So, I'm going to try and be less-fat again.

Enter: Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation.

Ive heard alot of malarky about this thing. I like that I can follow online, and that she spells out every morsel that should be passing my lips. I am not perfect- I don't know if I can do this. But- I do know that I owe it to myself to not give up before I begin.

And so, readers- if I have any left that is- would you be interesting in coming along on a journey through space and time (Wait- I think thats The Mighty Boosh.)

Don't want to blog about it if people aren't interested. Weight loss talk can get monotonous, and eye stab inducing.


Would you be interested in coming along on my journey from Death Fat to Less Fat?

Things Im Afraid To Tell You

I first heard about this post on the Vogue Forums, and found it a really interesting (albeit terrifying) concept.

What am I afraid to tell you?

1. I am too chicken shit to go to a doctor to find out if I have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). I know logically it wont get any better, nor will my mind ever be at ease, if I avoid the doctor, but there you have it. I have all of the major symptoms (hormonal acne, weight gain, holding alot of weight around the stomach area, loss of periods, mood swings, and excess hair growth.) I have had these symptoms for atleast 5 YEARS but only recently clicked that there could be a reason for it. I just blamed them all on gaining weight. Still not getting any closer to the doctor to find out.

2. Which brings me to the second point- excess hair growth. *deep breath* My name is Cindy, and I have hairs on my chin.

Alot of women do- but do you think that sentence was any easier to write because of it? I never had a problem with it before, but since having hormonal problems I have discovered them. Of course I remove ASAP, but this is not without first feeling the full shame. Women arent supposed to have beards! My chin is supposed to be smooth as a babies bum!

I freak out when Billasaurus Rex touches the lower part of my face (for fear he will feel the hairs) and have recently been having a nightmare that Billasaurus Rex and I go camping, and I am stranded and have forgotten to bring my tweezers. I cant help but feel even dream-me is melodramatic. Lol

3. I'm not really very fashionable. I love fashion blogs, could read through them all day, but its only a desperate attempt to absorb others fashion sense through the screen.

4. I have been that woman that stayed in an abusive relationship for 6 years. The woman that everyone wants to shake sense into, and tell that she is stupid and that she should leave him. That was me.
It's funny- I tolerated hitting, kicking, shoving, horrible name-calling and hair-pulling, but the day he spat in my face I knew I was done.

My opinion on Chris Brown? You really want to know?!

5. I consider myself a feminist. It seems to be a dirty word these days, especially with some men. Do I agree with any argument any feminist has ever put forward? No. But do I believe that women should be paid equally, have the same rights as men, and hope that one day what a woman has to say for herself is more important than her appearance? You bet your ass I do. (Seriously, check out Jezebel. Interesting articles and often hilarious comments)

And that's all I'm brave (or stupid) enough to share.

What are you afraid to tell?

The day I found a penguin in the suburbs

On a sunny Tuesday, I found a penguin in suburban Geelong.

I'm not a big believer in the universe and its mysterious ways, a bit of a sceptic even. But maybe, after this, I believe a little bit more.

I was 19 at the time and staying at my boyfriends house. We had been together for three years and were absolutely inseperable. In hindsight it wasnt inseparable in a cute way, it was more inseperable in the less fortunate, co-dependent way.

We had never had a major argument- until this particular night. I dont remember  how it started even- but I know it had something to do with me spilling chocolate sundae on his car interior.

There were tears, and screaming. The screaming eventually moved on to him shoving me around, and then pushing me on to the ground. It was quite late at this stage, and anyone who has ever had an all out argument knows that they are draining.

He finally let up, and went to bed. I got into the bed and joined him- before I knew it I was crashing down onto the floorboards.

The man I thought I loved so dearly said in a chilling tone that I can never forget- 'You're a dog. Dogs sleep on the floor.'

I lay awake on that floor for hours, not daring to get into the bed with him. I started off bawling, then sniffling, then got angry, then bawled again. As I stared at that ceiling (brown ceiling fan, white chipped paint and with cobwebs, how could I ever forget?) I wondered how had I gotten to this point? How had I let this man treat me this way?

I started to think about who I was, and what I wanted out of my life. Every plan I thought of, he wasnt in. I made a massive mental to-do list, and the last little goal I had before going to sleep was to one day hold a penguin. I imagined holding this tiny littly fluffy creature and smiled before dozing off.

In the morning I had had a change of heart. I woke my boyfriend up with breakfast and a sincere apology. I told him that I was sorry for upsetting him, and I would do my best not to again. I told him I was sorry for making him scream and shove me, and that I would do better.

Remembering my grand list of plans, I pushed them to the back of my mind. I was being stupid- how or where was I ever going to hold a penguin?!

We left the house for the day. As my boyfriend was locking up, I noticed there was something under his car.

As I walked down the driveway, I thought perhaps it was a Macca's bag or a bit of branch.

I strained my eyes- it had moved? Maybe it was a kitten?

My boyfriend was taking his sweet ass time getting organised. I wasnt holding him up for once, and he was in a reasonable mood after my apology. I walked up to the car, placed my bag on the ground and crouched down.

Halfway down I heard a tiny little 'MARP MARP MARP!'

Holy shit. Huddled next to the wheel of the car, was a tiny, fluffy PENGUIN.

I stared at it for what felt like an eternity.

Finally I stood up and said to my boyfriend matter-of-fctly, 'There's a penguin under your car.'

He scowled at me. 'Real funny.'

I motioned for him to come to the car and look for himself. He lay down under the car, and came up bewildered.

'Holy shit! There's a penguin under my car!'

As we both stood there mouths agape, I had noticed a stray cat circling the car. He seemed mighty interested in the penguin, who looked like it was trying to be invisible next to the tyre.

The sound started again- 'MARP MARP MARP MARP!'

Thinking quickly for the first time in my life (and the only time since!) I scooped up the penguin in my hands. It's tiny wings flapped against the side of my hands.

I remembered that my boyfriend's neighbour was a Wildlife Ranger for Parks Victoria. Maybe it had somehow hitched a ride home with him?

We ran up the street like banshees.

"STEWART!!" I yelled at his front door, 'WE HAVE A PENGUIN!!!' (Apparently, my brain was too busy to consider the doorbell.)

'What?' we heard as he slowly opened the door, 'You've probably found an injured native bird, an ibis or something...'

He looked from my hands, then back to me. 'Fuck me- it IS a penguin.'

I slowly passed my new little friend on to Stewart, who wrapped the penguin up in a tea towel. We sat at his kitchen table incredulous, whilst he made a few phone calls.

It turns out, there was a wildlife rescue house in the court behind my exes house. Somehow overnight, this tiny little penguin Houdini had escaped from their care and went for a wander!

The poor ife rescue lady had been looking for him all night, before giving up, thinking me must have been eaten by a neighbourhood cat. (They have been known to find penguins delicious.)

So- that was the day I found a penguin in the suburbs. It could be completely unrelated and totally random, but I like to think that the Universe, God, or whoever you believe in was sending me a little signal to say that even the craziest dreams can be achieved.