Category Archives: blogging

Whoa…two years? Really Kelly? >.<

I started this blog nine years ago, after on my last teaching practice in my hometown, my husband set it up so that I could write about whatever I felt like. It was such a godsend to have a place that I knew was mine, and felt safe. Over the years, I let things make it feel unsafe for me, and after a couple of years of pretty good, solid blogging, I just sort of…stopped.

It’s hard to start back up again when you look back over how long it’s been since you did anything, and realise it’s been almost two years.

I didn’t write anything at all last year. Not here at least. I’m not entirely sure why to be honest. It certainly isn’t because my life hasn’t been interesting. I think maybe it’s just become only interesting to me. Or that’s how it’s felt.

I also often feel like I’m being disingenuous, because typically my writing has always been very personal, and putting it online for people to read and pass judgement over filled me with horror. I’ve always sort of brushed things under the carpet. Things that feel too personal, or like I will be judged badly because of my honesty.

I’m at a place in my life now, where other people’s opinions of me no longer matter. I’m almost 40 and I can’t believe that I’ve come all this way only to still feel shame and fear over certain aspects of who I am.

I know that I write my best stuff when I’m being honest, and I kind of needed a really huge kick in the butt to get myself organised. I also needed some inspiration, a change of scenery – because moving to Australia wasn’t enough apparently. So my husband took me to the Philippines and it was amazing.

I’m half way through my second book edit, by the way. That’s still happening. I have to keep reminding myself to stop editing and thinking about everything that’s wrong with it, and just continue writing. I know what needs to be fixed, but then I think about fixing it and end up sighing in despair and putting my creative energy into other things. So the book comes along super slowly. But it comes along…so, there’s that!

Good job Kelly!

I am really bad at this blogging thing Internet.

I think it’s just because my life is uncommonly boring at the moment, which is odd, since I have moved to a new country and one would imagine that my life is full of riveting things to tell you. I’m not sure what to say in response to that, except that…it kind of isn’t.

Same shit, different city really. The thing about having decided to write full time is, I don’t have any hilarious work place stories to share with you. Because I’m working from home.  So I’m going to talk to you about how that’s going.

Most of you know that I’m a huge procrastinator. I found this great post by this super interesting guy called David. He wrote about procrastination on the Thought Catalogue. He writes: “It turns out procrastination is not typically a function of laziness, apathy or work ethic as it is often regarded to be. It’s a neurotic self-defense behavior that develops to protect a person’s sense of self-worth.” – It’s a great read, I encourage you all to go on over there and read it.

Anyway, I have been using my neurotic self-defence behaviours to protect my sense of self-worth for quite some time now.

I am so close to having the first draft of my novel done. Like, seriously close. What happened is, way back when I decided to really give this a proper go, I worked like a demon on getting the ending written, and then hated every little bit of it. It was a total cop out. It was a forced ending to a story I wasn’t entirely sure how to finish, and it made me really frustrated and unhappy. But I was finished right? So it was all going pretty well.

That meant that I could realistically take myself back to the beginning of the novel and start to fix up a few typos and errors and all those boring bits that repeated themselves. But the whole way through, I’ve been unhappy with the ending. So I deleted the whole thing when I made my way back there, and am currently in the process of rewriting it.

It’s great, I’m liking it, and I hope you will too. It doesn’t feel forced any more, and it’s working itself out into a slow progression of proper endingness. I’m happy with it. I am enjoying writing it. So, why am I still procrastinating?

Good question.

I got back into it today, and I was checking out the last time I’d written anything on it. I’d been very impressed with myself for having finished a chapter and having written another good 1700 odd words. The date was 14 March and I sat here today, congratulating myself on having written so much only four days ago and then getting back into it again. I was quite surprised that those four days had felt so much longer than they really were.

And then I checked the date and realised that today is actually the 18th of April, not March and it’s been an entire MONTH since I last wrote anything! Ahh procrastination. Ahh the joys of working from home! Days all blend together and the next thing you know, a whole month has gone by and you’re still procrastinating over finishing your work. It’s really hard you know. I love to work to deadlines. As much as I always say that I don’t, I do. Because I have always completed my work by the due date – well, on the due date. Usually with only a few minutes to spare.

The problem is, I’m only responsible to myself right now, and I am the Queen of irresponsibility. For goodness sake, I had my first child when I was 19! I am far more likely to get up in the morning and decide to spend the day faffing around online, playing computer games and if you’re lucky, baking something less than extraordinary.

There’s also this dog…for the past two weeks, it’s barked incessantly from about 9am to well after sundown. Every damn day. And, now it’s the school holidays, so the kids are home. And, Ollie’s home all day everyday too. I have housework to do, and people to feed, and music to listen to and gardens to pretend to work in, and spiders to imagine are lurking in every crevice. Oh, you have no idea how exhausting it all is!

Yeah, see? Are you seeing my problem now?

I have a feeling that once I have this first book out of the way and thrust out into the world for people’s reading pleasure/horror, this whole writing thing will become a little easier. It’s just this first time, you know? My fragile self-worth is completely tied up in this first novel, and I’m scared to death that it’s not going to come out reading like all my hopes and dreams.

So it’s a lot easier to sit and procrastinate on it, and wander through life blissfully doing all manner of other things.  But I promise it’s coming. I’m about two and a half chapters away from having this end completed. It reads really well, I’m happy with it.  I’m giving myself a couple more months to go through the second and third edits before I start handing it out to beta readers and once I’ve gauged an opinion, I’ll be working towards finding an editor – I have three potential people here in Adelaide I’m considering right now, and then hopefully, hopefully it will be ready to release into the world.

Thanks for sticking with me. You guys are all awesome.

Much love
Kelly x

To This Day



When I was little, we moved into a house in a newly developed neighbourhood. It was just an average neighbourhood with some state built houses and some private built houses. I guess you would say that it was the lower side of the middle class range. Every house on our street was occupied by young families. It was just one street really. Built into the side of a hill which at the time was full of empty lots and provided ample space for all of us to explore and make huts and set up boundaries where only our groups were allowed. We ran wild in the streets until well after dark, Lord of the Flies style.

There were no shortages of kids to play with. I was one of the younger kids – my siblings both 6 and 9 years older than me were in a different stage of childhood than me – not that that stopped them from letting me tag along and be part of their groups.

There is a strong hierarchy in built into childhood. A ranking of how cool people are, of who is worth playing with, and who isn’t. A solid foundation of bullying that no one really takes any real notice of at the time it’s happening, because being mean is so fun for those who are the ones being mean. They don’t really stop to think about what their meanness does to their victims, not at that age. It’s all just a game.

I had a friend growing up called Phillip. He was one of the kids who wasn’t considered cool. In fact, he and his brother were probably the two kids most picked on in our neighbourhood. We’d have ‘wars’ against neighbouring kids. It was always really serious, and I never understood it. I remember being told off by my fellow allies when I’d cross enemy lines to play with someone new. “You can’t DO that Kelly!” “You’re on OUR side, you can’t just SWAP SIDES!”

“Why not?” I’d ask and always be greeted with “because that’s not how it works.”

But I always wanted to know WHY. Why wasn’t it the way it worked? Why couldn’t we all get along? Why were people so mean to others? I never really suffered anything other than exasperation at my constant defying of the rules. My siblings protected me.

Phillip was the oldest of two boys in his family. He was a year or two younger than I was. Every one called him Shit Lip – it rhymes with Phillip, see? The things they said about him were awful. They accused him of having dropped his little brother on his head, causing his little brother’s “slowness”. I never knew if that was true or not, but I liked Phillip.

When everyone else was gone, I would go to Phillip’s house and I remember knocking on his door and being scared of his father’s reaction. I never really understood why his father would storm to the door looking as if he was going to beat the shit out of whoever was knocking on it – until quite recently. Whenever he saw me, his face would soften and he would smile and ask me if I wanted to come inside.

Phillip’s mum made the yummiest cakes. They gave me juice and fed me sweets and Phillip and I played happily together for hours.

As we grew older, the taunting still happened. I don’t know what school he ended up going to, but it wasn’t mine. I don’t know if Phillip was a victim of bullying at school as well as when he got home, but I do know that we just sort of drifted away from each other and I never really thought much about him.

I remember those days I spent with him pretty fondly though. I remember the feeling of pleasure I would get whenever I defied the rules of our war games and played with the kids we weren’t supposed to play with. I remember how hard my mum worked to make sure I didn’t join in any teasing. I don’t actually remember this photo being taken. I don’t remember Phillip coming to our house much. I know he was pretty scared to leave his property at all because of the way the hoards of kids would taunt him. Calling him Shit Lip, telling him he was the reason for his brother’s slowness. They made up cruel poems about how it happened, and I listened to it all and wondered why.

About 10 years ago, Phillip committed suicide. He’d climbed high up into a tree and hung himself. High enough that the search team never saw him. His father had been going out with them every day to try to find him – this day he happened to look up.

Every time I think of Phillip, I think of how hard things were on his parents. His mother was such a sweet and quiet woman, I never saw much of her aside from when she came to give us cakes. His father always seemed like such an angry man, but I have absolutely no doubts that he was the way he was because of how the neighbourhood kids treated his boys. I remember being told of the arguments his parents had, and now I think I understand why that was. Of course they were fighting, how could they not be?

Those stories turned to his father too. How he was such a bastard, how badly he treated his family, about the yelling people would hear coming from their house. I think about how kind he was when I came to play, and how welcoming he was. How much he loved to see my face at his door and to see me playing with his son. I think about how he must have looked when he found his son hanging from a tree at the age of about 24. Of how helpless Phillip’s parents must have felt because of a bunch of mean kids who saw weakness in their son and exploited it. Of how much pain and humiliation Phillip went through in his short life.

I wonder what sort of man he’d be now, because he was a fucking sweet boy who never complained about how the other kids treated him. He never said a word to me about it. He was always willing to play my imaginary games and keep me company. We mostly did the things I wanted to do, and he played my games without ever complaining if they were too girly or boring. He let me into his life and became an important part of mine.

I always regretted the fact that we drifted apart. Going to different schools and having different things in your life will do that I guess. It hurt so bad when I found out he had died. To have gone through such callous and horrible bullying and to only find one way out is intolerably cruel.

This one is for you Phillip. For you, and for all the other countless people out there who were and are being bullied. There are always people who love you. People who want to be your friend. People who will look past the cruel things that other people are saying and see the real you. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.

Thank you Shane Koyczan for being such an incredible voice for those kids who don’t have one of their own. x

Thoughts of a Zombie Sympathiser

2012-06-21 14.17.57


Last year I was working in a high school, as an English and Media Studies ‘learning advisor’. It’s the best job I’ve ever had, and like many writers – I’ve had a lot of jobs. This one was different every single day, and I got to work with some incredibly amazing students and other learning advisors.

I taught a media studies senior paper on zombies. In the first five weeks, we learned all about George A Romero‘s films, how he used film techniques, for what purpose he used them and how they suited the subgenre of horror – the zombie film.

In the second part of the course, we looked into making our own short zombie films and movie trailers. I have never had so much fun in my life. The course was such a success and the students really got involved! It was so exciting for me to see people truly engage with my class. We had make up artists who weren’t class members come in on their free time to help us with make up. The above photo is credit to some amazing young people whose talents in make up and stage effects just blew me away.

I don’t believe in teaching and not taking part. Besides, who hasn’t wanted to be a zombie? You have to lead by example, and this was perhaps the most fun day I had at work, ever. Of course, I forgot to take anything to remove my make-up with, and it just so happened that that particular day was also a staff meeting day. Good times.

A lot of people don’t understand why I have such an attraction to zombies. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I did a course on Supernatural literature and film last year. Fantastic subject to study by the way!

A good ten odd years ago, Ollie introduced me to the zombie film by way of 28 Days Later. I’ve talked about this quite a bit in the past. I didn’t want to watch it, because zombies seemed like a stupid monster to me. But I got hooked. They’ve become increasingly popular over the past few years – and especially moreso with the introduction of The Walking Dead, adapted from the comic book series by Robert Kirkman.

So what is it, I like about zombies so much?

I think it’s that the zombie is still fully human. They don’t transform into anything like werewolves and vampires do. They remain essentially human. Just dead. Unlike a lot of people, I’m not into zombie films and books for the killing or the violence. I know that sounds pretty contradictory, since the entire essence of a zombie comes about through death. But it’s more than that. If you’ve seen George A Romero’s films, you’ll know that the zombies portrayed in his film take on a personality of their own. They become the symbol of the masses. Confused, dumbed down crowds of humans intent on one thing, consumption.

By the end of his storyline, you feel sorry for the zombie. You’re forced to see the living as the real monsters. I guess you could say, I’m a zombie sympathiser. I like the zombie – much like I like all other monsters of myth and fairytale. The creatures who are misunderstood and hunted for being different. But in zombie films, you also have a small group of survivors. A group of people who fight for their lives and their choices and the right to be different from the rest of the population. The people who don’t want to end up mindless eating machines. The people who can still think, feel and act for themselves. The people who are not just fighting to stay human, but who also end up having to fight other humans in order to keep their humanity. Something you see them struggle with internally as different groups each try to form their own new civilisations – governments who end up warring against one another until only the strongest and ‘best’ survive.

Nothing symbolises the decline of human nature and the base destruction of resources better than the zombie apocalypse. Nothing shows humanity in quite the same way as a human being stripped of both consciousness and life itself, only to be brought back as a cannibalistic, disease spreading eating machine.  The great thing about zombies is that they are a relatively new monster.  There isn’t a folkloric history outside of the Voudon practice. Unlike other monster mythology which traversed cultures, the zombie came straight from Africa to the Americas and has been shaped into the symbol of the human fall from grace. Our not so distant dystopian future if we continue to be mindless about how we treat each other, and the world around us.

It’s not the carnage and killing that appeals to me. It’s the fact that the zombie represents that human in all of us. The consumeristic, world defiling, destroyer of life. I have empathy towards the zombie because in them, I see all of us, and I’m very interested in the reactions that people have towards the genre itself. The violence they think up, the way that they simply choose to ignore the fact that it all comes down to a brutal, mindless violence. That they don’t see past the zombie make-up and pick up the underlying messages.

Teaching that course gave me a huge insight into the workings of young people’s minds. Some of them truly got it, they understood what it meant, and loved the films for both the shock factor, the horror and the uncanniness. The ‘what if’ factor. “What if this happened?” “What’s your zombie apocalypse plan?” “What would you do?”  “Would YOU survive?” Their ability to creatively think and rationalise their own humanity and how to live in a world like that was pretty fascinating. I learned as much from them, as they learned from me.

What is survival anyway? And who are the real survivors?

it’s just a different style of living

I’ve been reading a lot lately. A LOT, a lot. As in pretty much everything I can get my hands on. Cook books, novels, short stories, blogs, biographies, poetry, websites, the backs of food cartons and even some instructions. I KNOW.

I think it’s because I’m having trouble actually focussing enough to sit down and write. I do a little bit, but nothing that’s actually thought provoking or creative. Just general chatty stuff and a lot of moaning. It’s really hot here in Adelaide. I don’t know why I didn’t expect that, but I really didn’t. I figured I was a heat rat. You know, the kind of person who did better in warm climates. I’d been living in Christchurch for 16 years. I spent my entire twenties and half of my thirties there. Before that, I’d been in Nelson, and a teenager. My life consisted of a lot of weekends spent swimming at the river or in the ocean, and basking for hours in the sun.

Christchurch was a completely different environment. It was mostly grey, and we were never close to a beach or any rivers that were worth swimming in. I had small children, I didn’t drive and I was coming to terms with how different my life was from what I’d imagined it would be, in a city that seemed grey and cold. I’ve never really found it easy to make friends, and because I couldn’t get around all that easily, it was pretty tough. So the idea of moving some place warm filled me with total joy!

Don’t get me wrong, it still does. I love the fact that there is so much sun here. That I can go to the beach and actually get IN the water because it’s warm enough to do that. But I still wasn’t really prepared for just how hot Australia is. My mum said something the other day, it seems simple enough, but I tend to get lost in my own whining and forget I’m an adult. She said “it’s just a different style of living”.

I don’t adjust all that well to change, but I was definitely ready for one. The past two years were strange, and interesting, some of it was awful, some of it was amazing, but it was time to move on and everything kept pointing towards the fact that that’s exactly what we needed to do. Australia didn’t seem like such a big lifestyle change. It really is though.

I had a lot of plans. I was going to start being a morning person for one. THAT hasn’t happened. The problem is, we don’t really have a bedroom here. The loft, which sits over the kitchen and living area, is all open, so it’s not particularly quiet or private. It is also so hot that Ollie and I have probably spent about 7 nights up there since we moved in. Our bedroom is mostly the lounge. This sofa bed lounge suite is most definitely one of the best things we thought about doing. I don’t know what we’d do if we didn’t have a bed to retreat to on these hot nights. It’s not very easy to get to sleep, so those extra hours in the morning are still as important to me as they ever have been. *sigh*

It’s taken a lot more time to settle in than I thought it would. And as much as I adore this little house, it just doesn’t feel like home. It belongs to someone else, there’s no easy way for us to hang pictures, and it’s hard to really make it feel like it’s ours – when it isn’t. The heat is oppressive too, so we can’t really have people around yet because you just sit in here sweating like you’ve just run a marathon! Never imagined I’d ever say this, but I am so looking forward to Autumn finally catching up with us and cooling down this place. I’m not used to sleeping in my own bed! That’s crazy talk to me! I’ve slept far more often on the sofa bed than I have in my own bed.

But in saying all of that. I love it here. I really do. Things are a lot more accessible in this city. It’s only a 10 minute bike ride to the city centre which I wasn’t sure of at first, but now I really love. And when they say that Adelaide is the 20 minute city, they’re not lying. Pretty  much anywhere you want to go is only a 20 minute drive away.

The food here is to die for too. It’s all so fresh and so easily accessible. I’ve tried foods here that I had never even heard of at home. I’m sure we had it, but I have no idea where you’d have found it. Here, you just go to the markets and it’s all there.

I feel bad that I complain so much about the weather. I am sure that our poor family members think I hate it here. It’s not that at all. I just got used to the cold I suppose, and we’ve been stuck in the same rut for so long that breaking some of the habits we’ve formed has been incredibly difficult.

I needed to figure out how to work through this exhausting heat, and that’s what I’ve been doing rather than any real writing. I’ve been working out a lot and trying to change some of the extremely bad and damaging habits I’d sunk into, with some really amazing results.

The last time I went to the doctors in NZ, I was overweight, had high cholestrol and blood pressure (something I’ve never had in my life – my blood pressure has always been extremely low), and I was pre-diabetic. Insulin resistant. It was actually pretty devastating to realise what kind of a state I’d let myself get into over the last couple of years. I gave up my blog..I turned away from a lot of things and people I cared about and never really realised just how depressed and stressed out I was.

Now that I’m away from all of that, I can look back and see why I did the things I did. Since we moved here, I’ve started to do more, I’ve changed my diet and I had a range of blood tests done a few weeks ago. When I went back for the results, everything…EVERYTHING came back normal. Normal blood pressure, good cholesterol levels, good sugars and I’m losing the weight I gained. In the course of two months, my health is back to normal. I literally cured myself from becoming diabetic!

I’m really proud of myself actually. I was pretty down about my health, and I fixed it, just by having the opportunity to think about what I’m doing to myself, instead of worrying about what was going to happen next.

I’m looking forward to being able to put more energy into writing now. Because if I can do that for my health in this hot little house, then I can do anything! *flexflex*

Reading Is Sexy

I’ve been really struggling to figure out what to write in here lately. There’s a lot of reasons for this, some to do with the fact that whenever I do, whenever I just sit and open up and write what’s in my head, someone crazy enters my life, and I’m tired of dealing with crazies. I have enough of my own crazy to deal with, I don’t need extras! And so I come here and draw a complete blank and have no clue what to write!

Some is to do with the fact that I just haven’t been writing anything, anywhere for such a long time now, that I’m just completely out of practice. I think about starting, and just give up and play the Sims 3, or my new acquisition, Diablo 3!

Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’ve been far too busy to write! I’ve been far too busy to even think! I’ve just finished teaching recently, and am in the process of grading zombie films – you’re all jealous, I know. You should be jealous! My students are freakin’ amazing!! And, about a million and one incredible short stories that they have written for me.

That doesn’t leave a lot of time for much else, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way, either, because it has been so rewarding watching them grow, and growing myself too. They have taught me so much and I had an absolute blast working with them.

Today is the second day of the school holidays though, it’s cold and raining, the world outside is grey and dark and I have just finished writing reports. It’s time to get back into the world of daily writing, so here I am! I’ve been bemoaning the fact that I have nothing to write about for awhile now, to anyone who will listen. It’s nuts really, because I actually have LOADS of things I could talk about, but I am suffering from a sense of inadequacy and I feel totally boring, so I’m going to do what a very kind friend suggested, and write using writing prompts.

The one I’ve chosen today is “What Are You Reading?”

I like this one, because I haven’t had a lot of time to read lately either, but I try to make the time and I have this huge and neverending list of books to read. I also have a Kindle. Good lord internet! I love my Kindle! I really do. I also just keep buying more and more books. I was trying to cull my massive collection, but the more I get rid of, the more spaces I see to fill up with new books, and the more I end up buying. *sigh*

Anyway, it was recently suggested to me, by a student, that I should read Robin Hobb’s series of books. So I found them for Kindle and have just started the second book. I’m definitely hooked! I love her style of writing. I’m a huge fan of the protagonist, and his affinity for animals, and her way of writing them just captures my heart. They are filled with just the right amount of intrigue and mystery, and I love the world she’s created.

I had never heard of Robin Hobb before, and despite my growing list of books I must read, I needed more fantasy in my life, and I am definitely not disappointed.

I’m also reading The Canterbury Tales, by Chaucer. These are really great, but I do find them quite hard and am reading about two at a time, in between other books, so it’s taking me awhile. I thought they’d be harder to understand…although they are certainly hard enough! And they’re nothing like I expected either. I certainly didn’t expect them to be humorous. I did not expect him to write about farting! I’m glad I started them. I love how beautiful the language is, and I would really love to listen to it being spoken. It’s beautiful to read, but like Shakespeare, I think the true beauty is in listening to it being spoken they way it should be heard.

I’m trying to read as much as possible lately, in the hopes that my creativity will be sparked back to life and I’ll start to write my own stuff again. I did last school holidays. Someone died in my book, and I got one step closer to having that first draft finished. There’s still a way to go yet though, and I have so many ideas on how to fix it up and get rid of the boring bits that turned me off writing it in the first place, that I know it won’t take long before I’m back into it again. Also, I have the most glorious computer now to write on.

I am sitting in my warm lounge, under a blanket, with my big ginger boy cat curled up beside me purring like an engine and typing on it right this very second. It has that gorgeous new computer smell, which I love just as much as I love the smell of new (and old) books. It is sleek and light, and very slender. It’s the perfect machine to take out with me and to sit some place nice and warm and different and just immerse myself in my writing with.

On the weekend, we went to Armageddon and listened to Christopher Paolini speak. He was really inspiring and filled me with hope. Siobhan got his latest book signed. He was sweet and really professional, and I was impressed with how well he handled the crushing crowd, because they were rude and pushy. I liked a lot of what he had to say, and it’s made me think about ways to improve my own writing. I love meeting other writers. They’re my rock Gods. 🙂

And with that, I’ll leave you with this awesome quote I found the other day.

you really are

I’m gonna say it out loud. Every day. 🙂


I’m Just Thinking Aloud…

This is such a big step for me, and I’m really grateful for the support everyone has shown so far, so I’m gonna be brave, and forge ahead and finish my books, and regale you with grand stories that will keep you wanting to come back for moar moar MMMOOOOAAARRRRRRR!!!

I’ve learned a lot about myself, and what I’m worth, through blogging online. It’s a crazy world out there! I’m a bit of an introvert, and I kinda like my little family. Two cats, two kids and a husband who loves me no matter what kind of weird mistakes I make, or how many times I throw myself on the floor and roll around crying like a baby because I should be writing but I’m not.

Hey interwebz! I’m writing! I’m writing right now!

I figured that I should do it now, because I go back to work soon, and no matter how prepared you might think you are as a secondary school teacher, you’re just not. How unprepared do I feel? About as unprepared as last time, but my classes were awesome! I’m so proud of them. And I have so many papers to grade! OMG! I’m doing that tomorrow, I swear.

Anyway…I’m thinking that what I’ll mostly use this blog for, is to write stories and memories, and thoughts on being a New Zealander. So, it won’t really be my day to day stuff like it has been in the past – unless something hilarious happened and I just have to share it. There hasn’t been a lot of hilarity lately though. So, please be ready for some not so hilarious moments too. I have an account of the February quake that I think I might soon be ready to share.

I went back through this blog a couple of days ago. It took me forever! All my links and photos had to be added back in again which was really annoying, but I’m glad I did it. I’m proud of my blog, and I really hope you like it too. I promise to try to be interesting, and I know it’s all about fastfastfast, postpostpost every day! But I’m not gonna be able to do that. I do promise that when I post? It’ll be worth it!

Ahh, my modesty! It defines me. 🙂

Thanks for reading me! Ur awesome! Come back again okay? xo

Hi friends!

Welcome back! I know I’ve been terrible. Nothing at all has been happening in my world for so long that I had no exciting tales to tell you. But I’m back! And I promise I’m going to write once more.

I decided that it was time to give my blog a freshening up, so I’ve moved to a new site, changed to a clean look, renamed it and I’m going to write with a sort of theme. A writing theme! Which, if I’m completely honest with you, means I’ll be talking about anything and everything in the hopes that I’ll gain you all back again, and maybe make some new readers! For now, I just wanted to let you know I’m back! That I missed you all, and that I’ll be sticking with this one. Because I have a couple of books on the go, and I plan to get them both finished and published and I have to attract readers somehow, right?

Both these novels are NaNoWriMo efforts. My last year’s book which I still have not finished, and my this year’s novel. It is awesome already! Anyway, one day you’ll be able to buy them and read them both, and then you can come here and reminisce with me over how difficult it was, and how well worth it it all was and praise me for my awesomeness!

Til the next time!

Ah ha!

You thought I missed a day and gave up on my blogging after only two days, didn’t you? Admit it. You know you did.

I haven’t. But! I really didn’t have a lot to say today. I did terribly boring things, like grocery shopping and dancing around my house, since, that’s the only place I really get to dance these days. Speaking of dancing, we’ve been watching Glee, which is perhaps the coolest show I’ve seen in a very long time. It makes me happy. And sad. And I laugh sometimes until I cry. I’m still in love with the little gay boy and his practicing the Single Ladies dance in his basement. It stuck. Ollie was hesitant to watch the show at all, and I had to get snappy at him. He loves it just as much as I do. My husband, is a total sucker for musicals and dance movies. Glee is like his number one show, I swear.

He’ll try to tell you its something manly, but you don’t have to believe him anymore, since I already told you what it truly is. So we watched that awhile ago, and it must have come on iTunes the other night, because, the next thing I know, Ollie is out on the balcony, Single Ladying. It really helped that Justin Timberlake also did it on Saturday Night Live that time. And so naturally, I had to join in. I was whipping his butt, right up until I tossed my head, and that’s when it all went downhill. I pulled something! It hurt for two days. TWO DAYS! The Single Ladies dance? It’s a killer. Siobhan was thoroughly impressed however. And I imagine our neighbours were too. Luckily it was light enough that we weren’t in the security light spotlight, because losing while you’re on the spot like that?  Would have been completely embarrassing.

I’ve just hit 42k on my novel, and I think that means it’s time for bed!

Butterflies and Hurricanes

Or rather, spiders.

You see internet, I am one of those girls who hyperventilates at the sight of spiders. I try very hard not to do this, because honestly? Have you seen spiders? They are TINY! Unless you’re in a crazy country like Australia, which by the way, I saw no spiders in thank god! But I can’t shake it. I forced myself to hold them for awhile, when I was pregnant with Siobhan, and I didn’t seem to mind them at all, but I think that’s because holding a spider seemed so much less daunting than holding a newborn baby. I was nineteen, trust me, it was daunting!

Anyway, last night we’re in bed, and Ollie is stubbornly reading and grunting at me every time I dare to strike up a conversation with him, I lay there and sigh and glance up at the roof, and helloooo nurse! Spider.  It’s lurking in the corner where ceiling meets wall, with its little hard black body and its filthy eight leggedness and I’m hissing, and nudging my husband “Nobby! nobby look!” You have to say it quietly, just in case they hear. Spiders have an amazing sense of hearing you know. It heard me. Ollie grunted, and I’m almost whimpering as it turns around, very slowly and deliberately, and loses its footing.  I KID YOU NOT! How can something with EIGHT legs lose its footing?!?! I’m shrieking and diving under the covers and he’s shouting at me about how I’m ruining his book!

I know right? I’m ruining his book? There’s a massive spider up there, as big as my thumbnail, sliding down the wall where it’s going to lay in wait so that it can leap into my mouth while I’m asleep and he’s telling me I’m ruining his book!!! So I stay very still, with just my eyes showing, making sure that creature stays exactly where it is, and he finally claps his book shut and with a sigh of annoyance gets out of the bed. He picks up his bookmark and a baseball cap and I’m comptely confused. “What are you doing? You’re just as scared of it as I am!”  “No I’m not, it’s to catch it incase it falls.” He replies, standing up on the bed, fully nude, all stretched up there trying to catch a spider.

Eventually he gets rid of the cap and just uses his hands. I’m admiring his butt, which from that angle was worthy of the comparison to Michelangelo’s David, and he finally catches it. Drops it, internet….and flails all around the place recatching it and doing his best not to let it scramble right up his arm into his hair. But the most fun, was watching him toss it out the window. You see, the latch at the top, really is at the top and our bedroom faces straight out onto the road. He was torn between stretching up and being caught by passersby or ducking down and not being able to open the window. In the end stretching up to open the window won out and he finally managed to flick the demon out the window, however, the wind last night was massive! I’m surprised the spider made it out the window, without being blown straight back in again.  It was, great.

Remind me to tell you about the time he ran outside in my pink bathrobe.