Oh Iggy Iggy

student, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, lover, friend. All views are my own and in no way belong to anyone else because I only have one brain to think with.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Self-obessesion or Quarter-life crises? Or just bat-shit crazy?

Shit has been going down lately. Big shit. Shit so big I can't even mention it online. It's fucking scary. Besides the BIG SHIT there's been other stuff. Things are gnawing. Where am I going? What am I doing? Who am I? What should I do with my life? DO I buy a house? Quit my job? Quit uni? Quit drinking and Valium?? (Oh wait.. scratch that last one. NEVER!) I'm so self-absorbed I'm like a 15 year-old on acid obessed with the beauty of her own hand. But.. you know.. less acid. Definitly less beauty. It's ugly. It feels shameful. All this self-reflection and meditation. Oozing cliche I wonder if "getting away" will help me "think things through". It seems such fucking the bullshit. There's a voice in my head (no.. seriously, bare with me. Honestly. Not. Creepy.) and she's saying this "what a load of bullshit. How fucking vain are you, sister? You don't need to study Narcissus, you are him. But with a vagina. I'd say Aphrodite but with the love handles you gained from pregnancy.. well no. Uh-uh". Then I spend time staring at my child and my boyfriend wondering "who the fuck are these people?" and "Why are they here?" Not in a way that means I Want them to go away but wondering what part they're going to play n my life. How will my decisions effect them?

So. Many. Fucking. Questions.

Then she starts again "don't listen to those cunts. They're all wrong. You know best." Well... when she gets like this there's not stoppping her. Seriously. She's the one who picked bright red tights on a day she had lunch with her CEO. Obviously a winner.

I swing wildly from being incredibly conservative to wildly avant-garde (so I like to think, anyways. What with the bright red tights and all).

So, as you probably figured  400 rambling sentences ago, I'm searching for answers. Answers to the eternal questions, apparently. According to a friend of mine people have been asking them forever. Apparently the biggest mistake I could have made was bringing this rambling subject of my recent vainity and self-questioning to the attention of a friend who studied philosophy. Seriously. Obviously he left me with more questions. Philosophy was never my strong point. I know the Ancient Greeks loved it. No idea why.

Of course, after consulting someone fairly knowledgeable on the subject I decided to consult the collective mind. That's right. I decided to Google. And, boy, Google I did! I found some great stuff. This great post from a few years ago. (passion etc etc) and another perspective in this post. (growing pains, normal development, like toddlers. Should I just KEEP CALM and CARRY ON?). Also, is having this much access to this much information when I'm confused really helpful?  All of them of course mention decisions. I'm assuming the decisions will become clear and easy to make just as soon as I find the answers to all my questions? No? Oh... Incidentally I did find once great answers, which was Saturns Return. Pity I'm not a gullible ninny (uhh. no offense astrologers.. but.. well.. you know. Sorry.).

And so the search goes on. With more questions, less answers and my pathetic cliches, self-crticisms and general annoyingly gen-y traits.

Anything... just anything to stop me from thinking about the BIG SHIT.

Over and out


Saturday, March 26, 2011

The scary part...

"So, do you think you'll guys will stay together forever?" My best friend asked me this two days ago in the most earnest manner. She's recently married and is still enjoying saying "husband" instead of "boyfriend" and telling people she has a family.

"Ummm... well," I started to reply, biting my lip. "That's a big call.. you know forever is a pretty long time and my attention span is, umm... well, short."

"Well, don't you think you'd better decide?"

"Ummm... no, what if I decide and then he gets fat?" I replied and laughed, hoping if I just acted like it was a joke she'd drop the subject.

Do I have to decide something like this? Is commitment making a conscious decision that you're going to be with the same person? I just figured everyone bumped along and some people make it years, other only got through months before their biological urges (and their significant others' annoying habits) drove them back into the meat market.

Interestingly when I asked Twitter this question (I know, quality research, huh?) I got lots of complicated answers. I was sort of expecting a yes or no answer. Apparently the issue of conscious commitment is not that black and white. Dammit. The men (all two of them) seemed to think that it had to be talked about in a matter of fact way and the women (all three of them) said they thought it just happened.

I'm a commitment-phobe. I know I am, I've known for awhile. In fact it all came as a crushing realisation when I was about 19 and I self-sabotaged my NIDA audition. I hate the idea of committing to something, anything whether it's study, men, women, work, whatever. The big, looming question is always "What if I screw it up?". Better to do nothing at all, if you expect nothing you'll never be disappointed, right? Right.

So, basically, this is about my inner struggle over whether or not I have to consciously make a decision to commit to Ben for a long period of time. We've been together, on and off, for 3 years. The off being whilst I was pregnant and a complete psycho. It feels like the time has come for a conscious commitment. We've have a kid, we're saving for a house and I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff.

One day, maybe, I'll be okay with it. With growing up and being responsible. Today, though, I'm leaving the question open. The decision needs to be made, but it true commitment-phobe style, I might just close my eyes and hope it goes away.

Iggy. X

Monday, March 21, 2011

Too Young

I had my girl when I was 23, not too old, but also not too young (according to some arbitrary ideal of young and old), but you know what... it was too young. I'm not done yet, I wasn't ready for her and I'm still not. I don't have to wisdom or the experience to teach a little girl everything she needs to know to become a successful, strong and independent woman. I've not travelled or studied or gotten lost or fallen down.

I'm about to turn 25, my little girl is nearly two and we're starting to come to some pretty huge learning curves. Soon I'm going to have to teach her right from wrong, she'll want to know the answers to complex questions (Is there a God? Where do babies come from? Why do some people hurt each other?), how do I answer these questions? I don't even know the answers yet.

But I'm a grown-up, I have debt (yay) and rent to pay and electricity and phone bills and internet bills and groceries to buy and meals to plan and lunches to make and washing to fold. I'm too young for all this. I feel like I should be out getting drunk, wasting all my money and generally being a bit of a douchebag about things. I should be living, instead I'm in bed by 9pm and up at 6am (an hour before the kid so I can have a shower and a coffee in silence). A fun night means movies and pizza at home, not getting shit-faced and waking up in a strangers bed, God I miss that. I don't have chores, I have housework, and it never fucking ends.

i just want to run away. Seriously. I've thought about just packing my bags and leaving. I love The Boy and I love The Kid, but lately, it's all too much. they're just another two people in my life who ALWAYS WANT SOMETHING FROM ME.  Mix that in with my, now weekly, panic attacks and I'm a time bomb.

but really.. that's enough whinging for today. Sadly my writers block is still quite blocky.

'Til Later,

Iggy x

Writers Block & Budgets

I'm really struggling today...

So, I've started a new scripty thingy. They never end up staying scripts but I'm just much better at dialogue than anything else. I have got about 200 words down and then BAM. Nothing. I know exactly how I want it to end, I know what it supposed to happen but it's stuck. Incidentally, writing is nothing like giving birth and neither is getting over writers block, the next male writer that talks about the pangs of "birthing a novel" is going to be shot. Unless you're passing that novel out of your dick then it's nothing like labour. The other problem I'm having is my two main characters have bad names. One if named after me (I needed a name and mine was the first one I thought of) and the other name is taken from someone I know really well and my male character is slowly turning into him just because I used his name as a filler. It's crap. Anyway. My point is, I have writers block and I hate it, I can't get anything done.

Aaaand if I didn't have writers block I would be able to make a completely smoothe transisition to my next topic, but I can't. so, here it is, subtle as a sledge hammer.

Budgets and 5 Year plans

Lately I've been trying to be a grown-up. I honestly still think of myself as a young, irresponsible person, not an adult will a family to look after. However doing our budget last night gave me a big shock. We are living right on the edge, we're no longer over-spending every week but we're still just barely breaking even (we have the whopping sum of $30 a week left-over after bills etc). Something needs to happen. That something is that we need to move. We need to move somewhere that is cheaper to rent and easier to maintain. We have a big 3 bedroom house at the moment, with a large front yard and pissy, oddly-shaped backyard and I hate it. It's hard to clean and the yard is hard to maintain as they have been left to run wild for the last 10 years.

So, if Anyone knows anyone (or is someone) who has a rental in Kingston, Blackmans Bay type area I'd appreciate you letting me know.

Okay, I've done enough whinging.


Iggy x

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Saving our way of life and our newspaper (or, I be pimpin')

I'm going to start this by saying I have friends who work for News Ltd. so I'm biased. So, that's out of the way. To put it bluntly, I'm pimpin' this cause because I've been asked AND because it's important to me. So, two-fold biased-ness.

Todays post is about our beloved (or loathed) Mercury newspaper. There is shit going down there and none of it is pretty. I have two things I want to draw your  attention to the first is a Tasmania Times Piece that ran a few days ago and the second is a blog that is part of the recently launched social media campaign.

Now, bloggers and journalists often don't see eye to eye but lets face it, we're all trying to achieve the same thing. We write down information for other people to access it, we hope the content, language and overall composition will attract a target audience and allow us to make some semblance of a difference. Journalists, however, work in a regulated industry and have time constraints, managers, supervisors, legislative regulations, as well as large HECS debts to pay and families to support. In other words, they stake their entire livelihood on writing. For bloggers, though, this is rarely the case. We often have other sources of income, we work outside the media industry and, as such, are in a much stronger poisition to  speak up without fear of losing our livelihoods. So, let's do this. Let's speak up on behalf of all who work at The Mercury.

As is outlined in the Tas Times piece and on the Save our Mercury blog they want to shift editing to Melbourne. This means that people who have little or no local knowledge of Tasmania will be editing the articles we read every day and while this might not seem like a big deal, it really can be. I was given an example by a friend of a headline that was once set back from Melbourne. The article was about a new part of UTAS, the headline made it read like we were getting a new university. Apparently staff in Melbourne didn't realise there was a university in Tasmania. This is just one example.

I could write more on this situation, but I'd really prefer if you read the Tas Times piece, read the blog and supported the cause on Twitter and/or Facebook 

The Mercury proclaims that it is "The Voice of Tasmania". Let's keep it that way.


Iggy x

Saturday, March 12, 2011

A weird sort of time (and treadmills)

I'm out of it lately, just completely zoned, no writing (except for some well written filth that has been spewing out of pen due to an enforced lack of sex), no cooking, no jokes just... blah. It's like I'm watching the events of my life through a thin layer of glass, I'm very much living in my own head at the moment. These interludes aren't uncommon for me, they happen a few times a year with me withdrawing for a few weeks and then coming out with renewed energy and going like crazy until the next one descends. My mother even had a name for the she called them, as suburban as it sounds, "episodes" and I've done it since I was a small child.

My Therapist is convinced they're my way of coping with the world and events happening in my life (but, what would she know, I ask myself? She only has a degree and 10 years experience. Pffft). Realistically, she's probably right and so I've started meditating again (I know, how new-agey of me) and you know what? It's a load of shit. I have no patience for this shit. I can't sit still for 1 minute without tapping my fingers or fiddling with my hair, I can't fucking meditate. It's like asking speedy gonzalez to just walk for a bit. Not happening.

SO I'm going to try something a friend suggested. I'm joining a gym (dun, dun dun). I hate gyms, I have a bad history with them. I joined an all-female gym when I was 17 and that was awful, full of blonde sticks in bike shorts and here's me in the baggiest clothes I can probably find struggling to move faster than tortoise pace on the treadmill. And treadmills! Oh. My. God. Fucking treadmills. Being on a treadmill is like being a guinea pig in one of those wheels. Not only are they pointless, they just reiterate the message that I'M GOING FUCKING NOWHERE. When I was 20 I joined a gym that was open for both sexes and WOW was that an eye opener. Gyms with boys helped me get a work-out, unfortunately not the type that helps me lose weight and after getting busted uhh... working out... in the shower I was politely asked to leave.

And now, here I am, about to join another gym at 24 and praying to god that I'm strong enough to deal with whatever penises.. I mean problems are thrown my way.

So, dear readers, please send a thought my way when you realise that I am probably slogging it away on a treadmill or in a stupid pilatyogi class with some ridiculous blonde instructors whose tits are so high she's almost smothering herself, please send me a good thought (AND CHOCOLATE)


Iggy. x

P.S I know I'm not the only one feeling a bit crazy, my friend Veronica is having a bad week, so show her some love. She deserves it more than anyone I know :)

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Help, I'm so post-modern I'm not modern anymore... a.k.a my existential crisis

Things are really strange at the moment. I often have periods where solitude is a very important part of my daily routine. This was perfectly fine and manageable before having Isabella, but now, when the mood takes me, the time of solitude must be taken from my sleep time. I've tried convincing myself that sleeping is like solitude, but my dreams stop that from being so, with my fears and insecurity following me into sleep.

I think I'm entering one of those times at the moment, but I'm hoping that if I just let it run it course, stay up late one night (I've arranged with The Boy to sleep in the in morning, thankfully) and I'm watching politically incorrect cartoons, writing, drinking endless hot chocolates and munching on clix biscuits. It's very relaxing. If I could be bothered I'd paint my nails, but I have all day to myself tomorrow (again, thankfully) due to the switch in jobs and work days and daycare insisting on me giving two weeks notice. I have lots of "girly" type things to do (you know, scrub, wax, polish) because I'm catching up with some girlfriends from high school (including an ex-girlfriend and possibly a guy I had an *epic* crush on) and one must looks one's best when stepping into the past. I'm shitting myself. I loved these girls in school but I've changed, they've changed. Everyone has changed.

I can deal with change as long as I'm not forced to stare it in the face and I feel like everything is changing lately. I was driving through a familiar suburb and shops were gone, replace with crass franchise bottle shops, the carparks were packed and the pie from the bakery didn't taste as good as it did when I lived there. I think some brief brushed with my own mortality, combined with a large dose of Anne Rice's The Vampire Chronicles have left me feeling quite like I'm having some type of existential crisis. But I feel like I'm watching it from the outside, like I'm one step removed from myself. God. I sound crazy, I can't even explain it.

Some days I wish my brain would just stop over-analyzing every single thing that happens in my life and let me relax.

Oh well, one day.

Hopefully the quarter-life crisis will hit me next and I'll rush out and buy a house or starting dating a 19 year old model.

Peace Out

Iggy x

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Festivale; the festival for the mouth

On Friday night The Boy and I packed up the car with a few days worth of clothes, booked into a dingy backpackers and headed up to Launceston for Festivale.

We arrived in Launnie at about 8:30pm, checked into the backpackers and then wandered over to Festivale. It was packed. There were people everywhere. Families, couples, groups of giggling girls and, of course, the wine drinkers.

We started by doing a few big laps around the park, we couldn't get to the main stage but we eventually managed to procure two Tasmanian Inn apple ciders and found a spot to sit near the second little stage to watch Sticks and Kane, who were large amounts of awesome and played some super cool song. We wandered over to listen to Diesel but it was completely packed and had no where to sit, we also had no idea who Diesel was and decided we liked the other dudes (as they were known as at that stage, having forgot our programme) better because they played better songs.

After watching Sticks and Kane and imbibing a few more ciders we decided on an early night and, after purchasing some food for the road (fish and chips and ollibollans, both exquisite) headed back to the backpackers where we found the pub downstairs having a lively party with a live band. They sucked. They finished at 1am. We eventually got to sleep and woke early the next day.

We got to Festivale at 11am on saturday, which was perfect, there were free tables, hardly any lines and the weather was stunning. We explored the half we couldn't get to on friday night, watched some kids make cupcakes and thanked our lucky stars we didn't bring our kid. (In saying that, Festivale was incredibly family friendly if you don't have a feral toddler like we do). The atmosphere was great, people were happy and laughing, no one was cranky about lines and we heard only a few complaints and most of those were about the cost (which, in my opinion, were a fair call, $20 entry and then food and drinks on top could make it a very expensive day for a family with 2 parents and 2 kids)

We decided on some lunch, Pizza from Motile Wood-fired pizza. I had potato which was completely delicious although a little bit salty. The Boy had hot salami and a slice of my pizza, both of which he declared fantastic except that the salami wasn't very hot.

After responsibliy eating before drinking we decided to go in search of more cider and came across Two Metre Tall, a farm-based cider company from down "our way", we got two medium cups of their Pear cider and found a nice table with an umbrella (good idea that, the umbrellas) and drank our ciders. I have to admit I wasn't much a fan it was traditional cider which meant it was much more bitter than I was used to, the boy enjoyed it thought and drank both his cup and 3/4's of mine.

I decided after our pizza and cider that I should do something adventurous and LO and BEHOLD! There was a stall selling possum "tasters" for $2 so I thought, gee, why not try road kill? (seriously, I know it wasn't actual road kill, but when I think of possums I think of roadkill). It wasn't very nice, I'm not usually an adventerous person food-wise so I was quite proud of myself for trying it. It tasted okay, but the texture was... weird.. chalky and it smelt kind of like cat food.

We then decided that dessert (the best of meals) was in order so we wandered around (for about the 13th time) trying to decide what to get. We settled on a warm white chocolate and raspberry brownie. It was stunning and I'm glad we only got one t share! So rich and lush! After scoffing that we decided that second dessert was in order so we wandered over to the Christmas Hill Raspberry Farm stall where we got a chocolate, raspberry and rum pudding and a single serve of raspberry ice cream. These both also fantastic, the ice cream was luscious and the raspberries were perfect sweet, with a little bit of tart and they looked beautiful, like something from a picture.

After taking in some of the music while eating our desserts we decided it was time for an afternoon nap and some Launceston sight seeing.

We got lost in the 'burbs, went to the museum and then back to the backpackers for a short nap.

We headed back to festivale for dinner where we decided old favorites were the go. We both had a baked potato, yummy but the portion sizes were a bit small for my liking and we were still hungry so we each got a bratwurst, which were also super tasty. After munching down those and still feeling peckish we headed over to the kids area for something that every self-resposcting festival must have, fairy floss! 2 big, pink sticks later we were full to the brim and bursting so it was over the stages for music,. The main stage was packed so we, again, wandered over the the smaller stage and watched what they had to offer. I can't remember the names of the bands and singers (Sorry guys!) but they were all incredibly talented.

About 10pm we decided to call it a night, we were full, tired, slightly sunburnt and longing for sleep. So back to the backpackers, where it was, thankfully, pretty quiet (except for the couple down the end shagging loudly but that done in 5 minutes, poor buggers).

All in All Festivale was an amazing event. I didn't see a single fight on either of the nights I was there despite how drunk a lot of people where. All the stall holders were friendly, helpful and generous with samples. It was an incredibly family-friendly event and the kids area and activities were well thought-out and appropriate. There was ample cheap parking nearby.

The event organisers should be proud, it was better than anything similar I have been to in the southern region and I hope that we can go again next year.

Thanks to ABC for giving me the chance to be able to go to this event because without the free passes and vouchers this is not something that would have been within our reach.

Well done Launceston, we Hobartians may appear not to appreciate you but from now on I'm going to try and get my northern jokes to a minimum.


Iggy x

Monday, January 31, 2011

Reality is not so nice (The house market....)

So, life is spending some quality time kicking my arse this week. Good one. We're considering moving, which means breaking our lease but we worked out if we don't move to somewhere cheaper we're going to go bankrupt anyways. Yay for us. Money management WIN.

On the plus side, I have a new job the only bad side is it's not full-time and it might not be permanent. But still, more hours means more money. So Win there.

But really what's bothering me is I honestly don't think it should be this hard for the average working family. My partner earns a modest wage and I work part tie whilst studying and raising out daughter. I'm looking for full-time work but so far am struggling.

No one wants to hire mothers, it's too hard, we take too much time off for the kids and we make unreasonable demands like not wanting to work overtime because the daycare center shuts at 6:30 and we might (shock horror) have another baby which means we'll want maternity leave. FYI I don't want more kids, but I know that employers look at women of child bearing age and just assume we're going to pop the out like candy from a pez dispenser. We can't help ourselves, we're just women after all, we have URGES (I've honestly heard a male colleague talk about women's "insatiable urge to breed)

Back to my original point.. which was... umm.. OH RIGHT! It shouldn't be this hard. I'm not saying we should be able to save our 25% deposit in two weeks and trundle into the suburban dream sunset, but every family should be able to save at a 10% deposit on a 250,000 home (which, lets face it is about the average in Tassie) in, say, 2  3 years. It's going to take use 6. Minimum.

Costs are rising: food, rent, power, phones, daycare, fuel etc etc and there's nothing that can be done to stop them.

I don't know how "we" (we meaning you, me, the government, whoever you feel should fix these issues) should deal with it or how it can be fixed. All I know is there is something rotten when the average person can't afford to buy their first home, because eventually no one will be able to afford for their first home and if they can't buy a first then they can't buy a second etc etc. A market of renters with the only winners being investors (i.e the rich)

So yes, essentially this is a big "I'm poor and it's not fair because I want to be rich" whinge.

Thanks for listening

Iggy. x

Friday, January 21, 2011

Parents don't have rights... apparently

So, I was reading This article on how a same sex couple won a court victory to keep their surrogate-born twin girls. This is amazing. I have to admit, I'm not a huge fan of surrogacy when there are so many children out there waiting to be adopted, but I do empathise with some parents need for a biological child. The ethics of surrogacy aren't really the issue that I want to address, the issue I want to address is Nicholas Tonti-Filippini's comment in the above article.

"Parents don't have rights, they have responsibilities. The crucial thing in all of this is that the courts make decisions in the interest of the child."

Great, no rights, all responsibility. Who decides what the parents' responsibilities are? The Courts? The Church? (It should be noted here that Tonti-Filippini is a "catholic ethicist" whatever the fuck that is.). Don't the parent's have a right to decide what's best for a child and isn't having two parents the best thing for a child? The children are, after all,  biological children of one of the men and, as such, he has a right to decide who will share his and his children's lives. This is no different to a woman who get pregnant and then brings a non-biological male figure into a child's life. Can someone please, please show me evidence of children who are harmed by having same-sex parents? Anyone? No? 

Well.... here's to the Catholic Church, who are so hypocritical and so incredibly judgemental that I'm glad so few people take it seriously. 

Congratulations to the new proud parents, enjoy every heart-breaking, sleep-deprived moment, every sane person in the world is wishing you all the best. 

Iggy x.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Being Mum

I don't want this to become a "mummy-blog", because I'm not really interested in talking about my kid, I see her all day but this is really bugging me, so here it is.

Mum. God, I hate that word. Honestly it's like every single awful connotation is loaded into that word and I hate it. I don't want my kid to call me mum, I want her to use my name but after tonnes of research and a very heated argument with The Boy, mum it is.

Honestly, I love my daughter but I'm not so keen on being a "mum" but I love being a parent. I know that sounds ridiculous, same thing right? Wrong. Mum has all these social implications, if I tell people I'm a "mum" I'm judged differently than if I don't tell them. The following conversation I had with someone new last week shows how differnetly people react once they know you're a parent and a lot (not all, but a lot) of people seem to think that parents should prescribe to a certain way of being. It's almost dehumanising.

New Person: "So, what sort of music are you into?"

Me: "Oh, lots of different thing, metal, Hip Hop, Jazz. I love seeing anything live, you know, when I'm *not* listening to the wiggles or watching Chuggington."

NP: "Why would you listen to The Wiggles?"

Me: "I have a daughter who loves them"

NP: "YOU'RE a mum? Gosh, you don't seem like the mum-type."

Thee conversation went on for a bit, but this particular part really bugged me. It was her tone of voice, which obviously I can't convey online, that bothered me most, so much empahisse on the YOU'RE (like, you can't possible be a mother, really, you?!?!?!). I don't consider myself a bad parent (well.. you know.. not child abuse bad). I consider myself relaxed and  not great at discipline (my kid is feral, to be honest) but why on earth should I prescribe to certain "ways" a mum should be. When I asked her to elaborate on the "mum-type" she mentioned she just mumbled and said something about mothers who talk about nothing but their kids and then mentioned something about my clothes. At that point, I walked away.

I know this seems like something innocent, but really, if I tell people I'm a mother then it scews their entire view of me, they put me in a completely different category of people. In fact, sometimes I wonder if people think parents ARE a different category of species. I've been looked down on, advised (so much advice!), told, re-told and questioned everytime I tell someone I've got a kid. when I don't mention her, though, I'm treated like a person with interests, hobbies and feelings

Honestly, I know exactly why this bothers. ever since I got pregnant I've felt like I'm a non-entity, when I was pregnant by body wasn't my own and, according to social order, public domain for advice, touches and rubbing. I was *not* okay with people touching me when I was pregnant, The Boy didn't even get to touch my belly while I was pregnant. I'm nothing BUT a mother in some peoples eyes. I know ALL new mothers have this complaint but it's about time we started standing up for our individual identity. My child makes up about 5% of the entire of my being and my life. I don't want to only talk about 5% of my life, I want people to know that I'm more than that.

Maybe one day. Also, I'd love to hear from other parents on what they think. Are you treated different;y now that you're a parent?


Iggy x
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

New Year.. New me?

There's something a little bitter sweet about writing the date for the first time in a new year. I had to do it today and it made me think of all the things I didn't achieve in 2010, so it made me a little sad but then I remembered all the things I plan to achieve in 2011 and that made me feel happy, so bitter sweet is definitely appropriate.

Here are some things I plan for the 2011;

New Job - not just any job, I'm only applying forj obs I REALLY want, not just applying will-nilly as I see no point because in 12 months time I'll be looking for ANOTHER job.

Write 10,000 words - This doesn't include Uni, my blog or my job. So 10,000 words on my own invention. Fun, fun! (I will be an author one day, I will be an author one day, I will be an author one day)

NOTHING BUT DISTINCTIONS - This one is going to be hard but I'm aiming to get distinctions on every piece of Uni work I do.

SAVE SAVE SAVE - My partner, daughter and I spend so much money. Way too much. To save we need to move because we're paying ridiculous amounts of rent for a house that isn't even worth it.I'm starting small, I'm hiding $20 away in a bank account that The Boy doesn't know about. I love him and all but he is TERRIBLE with money. I know it seems deceptive, but it's not lying, it's omitting. (yeah, yeah, shut-up! I'll justify my lies anyway I want, thanks))

Lose 5 Kilos - I know 5 isn't very much but I want to lose 20 altogether so I figure if I aim for 5 year I'll be down 25 by the time I'm 30 and I'm pretty happy with that (fuck, 30, I'm actually aiming towards 30 now.. FUCK! I'm getting old)

Find a creative outlet - I need a hobby. Badly.Writing isn't enough, writing is kind of like work for me because I'm trying to produce publishable pieces. 

Make pretty things - I love pretty things, I'm a bit of a crow so I've decided instead of buying pretty things I'm going to make pretty things to distribute to all my pretty (inside or out) friends. Not sure what I'm going make yet, but you details, details, you people are so damn picky!

HAVE FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN! - Last year wasn't much fun, it was hard. This year is going to be fun.

So, that' enough bullshit from me for today.

I love you all so very much.