It seemed so cliché but every person I had spoken to advised me to do it. Taking roses to a girl. It is the classic sign of romance but is also the classic sign of, I have no idea what I am doing and saw this in every movie I have ever watched. I did it anyway. I took it a step further though because I ordered the roses online. In the movies they always buy them from a florist on the corner of a road and have a casual chat about the lucky lady receiving them. I bought roses the modern way, I clicked and entered my banking details and hoped in exchange I would receive romance. My dating experience is limited, if you hadn’t already guessed that. As soon as the roses were delivered I regretted my decision. The roses themselves were beautiful but I just wasn’t the kind of guy that gave a girl roses, seeing them in all their glory confirmed this. So I did what any self-pitying non-dater would do, I took the roses to my mother. I did not tell her the backstory and of course, made out that I had indeed bought the roses with her in mind all along. She told me if I put half as much thought into a girl then I may not be perpetually single. Oh Mum. I told her I did actually have a date coming up and I was just going to be myself and see if that was good enough. She assured me it was plenty good enough. A few days later on my way to meet the girl I passed a florist on the corner of a road and what sign was hanging outside, standard roses for sale. The world was slapping me in the face. I bought some, and told the florist they were for my girlfriend and he winked at me just like they do in the films. Lord help me.
I really hate beauty vloggers. I’m sorry, I know it’s an unpopular opinion and they get millions of views or whatever, but I can’t stand any of them. They make tons of cash just from making these super-long videos (ever heard of keeping things short??) where they just peddle some sponsored product that will NOT do what they say it will, make some cutesy little asides to try to humanise themselves and add terrible comedy, display some beauty tip that has a 50/50 chance of going completely wrong and then…well, I don’t know, because I stopped watching them years ago. Something about what kinds of healthy snacks or fads they were into that week. All that sponsored rubbish.
You know people actually do courses in this kind of thing? I’ve heard there’s even one at my uni, which is interesting since I’ve been there for five years and I wasn’t aware of people doing a diploma in beauty therapy. Places in Melbourne don’t seem like they’d be famous for that kind of thing, but there you go. So yeah, people actually study, making them a thousand times more professional than some millionaire in their bedroom who blatantly lies to their audience and makes out that they’re ‘just like them’. Ha, what a joke!
I was way into beauty therapy as a teenager. Buying into the gender stereotypes, I know…but there are stereotypes for a reason. What really annoys me was just how into them I was. I thought if I got all these tips from my best friends online, I’d be beautiful, all the boys would love me and I’d be known as gorgeous 24/7. Maybe if I actually got myself a real diploma of makeup services. As it is, I’m just glad to be free from people who try to make out like they know beauty inside and out, when they actually just know how to operate a camcorder.
Some of my favourite things about spring: the flowers, the light, the smell and the fashion. Spring fashion is everything. It is effortless and pastel and layered. This month I was asked to design a small boutique line of womenswear for a fairly major designer. They want 10 spring themed pieces for the everyday in touch woman. I really like to take my inspiration from nature and I find when I spend a lot of time outdoors my creative juices really flow. I never start the designing process until I have a full concept for the entire line. This time I am going with standard roses. They are diverse, elegant and ubiquitous which are all traits associated with fashion and everyday women. I really like to do my research so I visited botanical gardens and flower shows wherever and whenever I can. The high society daffodil is definitely my favourite and not just because of the name, it’s grace and elegance is unrivalled and I have started drawing it in different forms as I want it to be prominent theme throughout the line. Similarly pink roses are exquisite and I can see their colours working really well as a template for a spring pant suit. I have been so captured by the beauty and power of roses I have decided to plant my own that if I have timed correctly will hopefully bloom just as my line is being released. I bought some top of the range soil enhancer and planted my brindabella roses as a sign of the progress of women and fashion. I have been sketching beside my plants every day and the line is really taking shape. Faint yellows and pinks are scattered amongst a white backdrop and I have decided to use all locally sourced ethical materials.
When you move into a house, you expect it to be clean. That’s a basic right, maybe even in the Australia constitution if that’s a real thing. Oh, you know the thing…it’s the big document that contains all the laws for governing the land. Anyway, I’m pretty sure there’s a clause in there that says people have a basic right to cleanliness, and then a little subsection that governs how landlords have to clean a property after a person vacates. It just makes me so mad!! Maybe it’s worse because my entire job revolves around cleaning Melbourne’s private venue rooms after gigantic parties. I see grime and muck ALL the time. In fact, I’ve seen things that will make your hair curl and more. But when I move into my own rental property? That’s when things get ugly, because I shouldn’t HAVE to clean this place.
I guess you could call my job ‘niche’. That’s just part of working for a very specialised cleaning company that deals only with private function rooms, I guess. Its employees have to be hand-picked due to their incredible skill at getting things as clean as they could possibly be, their attention to detail that rivals that of a pernickety feline, and a sense of duty that the world SHOULD be clean. All of it!
But I’m quick to point out that cleaning isn’t my hobby. It’s a duty, but when I know that duty SHOULD be done by someone else and that isn’t happening. I walked into my house and the grime called out to me. It wasn’t like those private function venues in Melbourne, where the scattered food remnants are acceptable and it’s my sworn job to sort it out. This should have been done. And that incited my wrath, the wrath of one who knows how things should be done, and sees them NOT being done. My wrath was terrible indeed.
Phones might be everywhere nowadays, but there’s one great task they cannot do: keep sand from getting in your shoes. Let’s see them come up with an app for THAT. Okay, I might be a little bit prejudiced since I run a shop that encourages people to get back to nature and we still do all our business without technology. I was quite proud of how I styled the interior to look like a woodland grove, and I already have the perfect response for people who come in and try to tell us that the very building we set up in was built by machines. That would be ‘get out of my shop. It’s snappy, short and has done the trick basically every time.
I wasn’t always like this, you know. I was once doing an app design course, if you can believe it, studying at one of Melbourne’s most prestigious academies and working part time in Bar-Stucks. That last part isn’t strictly relevant, but it does add to my tale of corporate woe and sadness and grief and teary-eyed-ness. Yes, I was enveloped in the modern world, like a letter in an envelope, which is still a legitimate and very reliable way of communication, by the way. I was churning out apps, some of them for assessments and some for the actual place where you buy apps, but it was not to last. I saw an ad on the notice board for a wilderness survival camp, and secretly scoffed for I was a child of capitalism. And yet, my sinuses had been bothering me for years. The doctors said it was maybe pollution from my commute, and it was stopping me from sleeping and generally being a massive irritation. I would’ve done anything to get rid of the blockage…so I took a break from app development and design, going on the nature wilderness survival fitness camp in half-protest. Well, it opened my eyes. It also opened my sinuses, and I breathed in the lush air of the outdoors. I knew from day one that mankind was meant to be in such a place.
So now, I advocate such a lifestyle. And true, I’m getting my friend (who’s still doing a web design course) to make me a website for my shop, but ONLY so I can tempt people away from their technology. That definitely works. My mind and sinuses are clear.
One of the really tough things about being in such an innovative and competitive industry as programming is that no matter how fast you learn new aspects of the trade, you’re always going to be struggling to catch up. It doesn’t really even matter what field of programming you happen to be in, there are so many massive changes taking place every day. Seeing as it’s such a vibrant area, there are also completely new subsets opening up every couple of years or so. When that happens, you’re faced with a challenge. Do you keep doing what you’re good at or do you take a chance and seize the opportunity?
I chose to seize the opportunity. All those years ago when I did my amazing game design courses that got me started in this industry, flip phones were an exciting reality. Your average teenager has never even seen a flip phone! The point is, back then, we could never have imagined all the amazing technological and software innovations that were going to take place over the next ten years. The creation of the smartphone has revolutionised programming in that’s opened up a whole new sphere: app design.
Over the last few years in particular, that whole field has completely taken off in ways people never expected. Multi-million dollar enterprises now exist where before, if you’d told someone to ‘swipe right’, they would have looked at you in confusion. To cater for this growing market, app design courses in Melbourne are becoming a pretty big deal and I’m wondering whether it’s time to do a little personal development and take it up. Aside from being pretty curious about how those little icons work their magic, I have a couple of pretty great idea and game design is beginning to grate on me. If feels like it might be time for something new.
Oh, I am lapping this up! It’s just one shocking twist after another on Week of Our Lives, and I can’t wait for my daily dose. It doesn’t help that the world of WOOL just exploded last week, with the revelation that Sharon and Gina were the ones who pushed Jocelyn into the eel tank and not Jake. In a way I’m relieved, because he was Melbourne’s best conveyancing lawyer, a really sweet guy, a regular gym-goer and he has really great hair, so this might mean he sticks around on the show. But how is he getting out of this one? Gina and Sharon hacked his account so it basically looked like he was confessing to the crime in a horribly gruesome way.
My personal theory: photoshop. Gina did that internship for a print company six years ago, while Jake recently went on a conveyancing retreat with the company to Tahiti, so they could lie on the beach, have drinks with little umbrellas and talk about how they could more efficiently convey and transfer property. Jake took a picture on a boat with him standing on the railing, thumbs up, which he very briefly showed to Gina at the canine wedding of Princess and Sir Barks-a-Lot. It was a brief shot at the start of the scene, but I remember it clearly, and it’s an identical pose to the one he supposedly made while standing over the eel tank.
Thing is, while I can understand Sharon feeling jilted, why is Gina getting involved? Her current reasoning is weak, so there must be something else. My theory? She’s angry with Jake for his status as a conveyancing king. See, Gina has shown signs of egomania before, and nothing more represents her failure in human form more than Jake. He got the classy job she wanted as a Carlton conveyancing person, beat her in the exam, has a successful love life AND their family has a long-standing feud dating back to the seventeenth century when their great, great, great, great, great, great grandfathers were denied a duel to the death as it had been made illegal five minutes ago, thus leaving their quarrel unsolved.
Boom! Fan theory power!
I might not actually WATCH the show I star in, because I’ve always thought that was egotistical, but I can tell that these scripts are a bit off point. I was thrilled to be cast in Week of Our Lives, really. It’s been my big break, and I was instantly promoted to main cast so I’m here until my contract runs out of they decide to kill me off, or perhaps both. And that’s great because we get millions of viewers, but the storylines have gotten too weird even for me.
For one thing, that recent plot with me and Sharon? You know the one, where Jocelyn started dating a Conveyancer from Carlton because she was obsessed with owning a home before she was thirty, and she also wanted children who would be financial geniuses, and they’d dominate the property market and leave her a housing empire legacy. That was alright, because Jocelyn was always a bit of a maniac (even though she’s just the sweetest thing in real life). But then the writers took a massive turn and decided that they wanted to kill her off, so they had her boyfriend push her into a tank of electric eels during a visit to Ocean-Land, which was especially cruel because she’d just visited a psychic who told her that her life would soon take a shocking turn. Oh, and then her boyfriend posted a picture of her floating body on his VisageTome account with the caption ‘Ooh, this hits me right in the EELS!’
Thing is, no one believed her sweet, conveyancing solicitor boyfriend would do that. The writers screwed up if you ask me, because Jake is smart and he wouldn’t brag about murder online. Now it’s been revealed that me and Sharon (who dated Jake before, but he split up with her because she tried to force him to convey her a free home) plotted the whole thing, hacking into Jake’s account and distracting him while we pushed Jocelyn into the eel tank. Apparently I did it because I was jealous of their love, and also because Jake was the most brilliant conveyancing lawyer in Melbourne and I was still jilted from when he beat me to that big firm job. Now all the viewers hate my character. But seriously, those are some weak reasons…who is seriously lapping this up?
You know when you look at something online, and then it either arrives in the mail or you go to see it, and…ugh, it’s in no way the same? I’m feeling that pain pretty hard right now. All I wanted was a nice little one bedroom apartment, and to be fair, it was almost too good to be true. The upper end of my budget, but in a great location with the place already furnished? Sure, I could accept all that. I was pretty sure the part about the live-in butler was a joke, but the parking space, the balcony view, the free gardener and cleaner…I shouldn’t have let it go to my head.
I got to the place, and the garden was NOTHING like the pictures. The agent said that I’d be furnished with packets of hyacinth bulbs, as a courtesy of things not being quite how I expected. Not how I expected?? The place was a dump! It was like someone had attacked the back garden with a pneumatic drill, and there wasn’t a single living thing in sight. Apparently they had a storm (unlikely) and the gardener no longer worked for the company, hence why I was being left to grow my own hyacinths. And that’s wonderful, but I called to see the place about half-an-hour after it was posted and I’m seeing it two days later. That’s not quite enough time for the lush, tropical paradise in the pictures to turn into the aftermath of a nuclear testing site. But sure, thanks for the bulbs, that’ll do plenty.
The inside is no picnic, either. Apparently a building was built in front of the balcony (in two days), the furnishings are taking a while to arrive and oh, I’m sharing a kitchen with someone else in the block! No indication of any of this on the website. So now I’m fuming, and there’s no way I’m interested any more. They’ve tried to call and I’m gleefully ignoring them. Oh, and these mixed hyacinth bulbs are all mine. That’s the payment for the lies.
I have an all-consuming fear of ice and it means I can’t do things with my kids. I know that might sound really silly, but hear me out. About – oh maybe it was three months ago now? – my daughter, Abby, went to the birthday party of a friend of hers. Since it was really hot and the family didn’t have a pool or anything like that, they decided to look at party venues and found out that one of the better ice skating rinks in Melbourne also hosted kids birthdays. So they took their little girl and all her friends ice skating for a day. This is wonderful in itself, a truly inspired idea for a party, and I wouldn’t have had any problem with it all except that Abby came home jabbering about how much fun the day had been and how much she’d love to do it again. And I simply can’t take her.
For the first week or so I thought she’d just drop the idea, but she persisted, asking patiently once a day whether I’d be able to take her to the ice skating rink this weekend. After it became clear she wasn’t just going to drop the subject, I persuaded my husband to take a day off golf and take her for a lesson. A single lesson was all it took to get her completely obsessed, fooling my naive husband into signing her up for weekly lessons so one of us would be forced to take her each and every week. While I don’t want to delve too deeply, or indeed at all, into the reasons behind it, but I do know that there’s no way I can ice skate in Melbourne. Or even go anywhere near an ice skating rink. I feel like, if I do, I’ll have a panic attack. But at the same time I don’t want to deprive my daughter of doing something she loves. What do I do?