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Today's purchases :)

2012-02-16T18:17:00.001+11:00

Wolf!

2012-02-16T03:14:00.000+11:00

To all the on-again-off-again couples. Ever wondered why you're losing all your friends until you only have each other to run back to? Read 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.'

Love, Noeline
xox

When are you coming to The Philippines? When I win the lotto.

2012-01-23T23:18:00.007+11:00

Today marks my one month anniversary back in Sydney. Despite experiencing post-erasmus depression, I have to admit that it's gone by pretty fast. Whereas I was once so hard to get a hold of, I've now been jumping at every opportunity of human contact - coffee, drinks, lunch, dinner. Anything.

"I have no phone, no job and no classes. In other words no life," I would say self-pityingly to those who asked me when I was free.

My old friends had new lives. The ones that were in uni had now graduated and had full time jobs. The animals I used to party with had settled down. Friends who once had time for me were now more 'whipped' than ever.

For the first time in a long time I found myself bored. I was restless.

So I buried myself in a book by one of my favourite authors. I prepared packages and wrote handwritten letters for twelve of my overseas amigos. For more than a decade my grand mother has been asking me when I was going to see her. When on the phone to my dad she would express fear of passing away before that time would ever come. When I was younger I quite honestly told her I would visit her when I won the lotto. It became a running joke, my naivety in thinking it was that easy to win millions of dollars. I've never even won a school raffle in my life. So with my left over money I booked a trip to The Philippines. I leave in five days.

Whereas home was merely a place for sleep in between class and work in the city, I've now been spending the best part of many days there. Sit down meals with my family were rare. Now I have them everyday. And it's been nice.

I've realised who my real friends are. And as happens with time, not only does this group tend to get smaller and smaller but the characters in it change. Friends who said they couldn't wait for my return have yet to be heard from. The first person I thought I would see ended up being one of the last, and I felt, only out of obligation to the friendship we used to have. But with that said, people I didn't know a year ago and live thousands of kilometers away have proven them selves to be more genuine, more supportive and better listeners than people I've known for years in Australia.

If they're the only thing constant in my life, I've rediscovered the meaning of family. On my last European trip to Amsterdam I worried about not having enough space for all the presents I wanted to buy for my family.
"Why, how many people are you buying stuff for? I'm only getting things for my mum, dad and brother," said a friend.
I pulled out a piece of paper listing the names of aunts, uncles and cousins like a weekly grocery list. Turns out a lot of other people don't associate much with their extended family. I came back just in time for Christmas and New Year, and whereas I once hated not being able to spend such occasions with friends, I love that we make a big family fiasco out of them. When someone doesn't show up they're inquired after the rest of the night. My cousins are like brothers and sisters to me. I like that we hang out with each other. And upon booking our tickets to The Philippines, family connections I forgot existed or thought too distant were suddenly offering us places to stay, to drive us around, to be our translators and chaperones. Unlike extended families who stop talking after a quarrel, I'm glad to say hasn't happened to mine. I want my children to grow up with my cousin's children. I want my children not only to know their grandmother, but their grandmother's brothers and sisters.

I've also had time to over-think. People have asked me how many more years of uni I have left (which, fyi, is one) - and what I want to do after. I intended using my year overseas as a time to get the travel bug out of my system. You know, while I was still young. I would then finish uni and find a job, establish for myself a career in the advertising industry, marry, have kids, and be merry. But now that I've come back, I don't want to do anything else but learn more languages and travel. Some people have suggested doing both, but business trips don't exactly leave you with much time to explore and experience the culture. The most 'successful' people I've met have also been the most miserable. I see them on the train in their fancy suits on their laptops - and they're not even in the office yet. I listen to friends bitch about their bosses, of feeling a lack of self-worth and purpose. The happiest people I've met work 'ordinary' jobs - working at a hostel in Granada, Spain; serving ice cream in Paros, Greece; running a university cafeteria in Logrono; Spain. I had my life planned out, albeit roughly, and now I don't know what to do. I work myself anxious thinking about it.

Even though I've never failed a class I get scared that this year I might, and that I'll be stuck at uni longer than expected. I get scared that I'll never find a job in communications - for numerous reasons. Like for not having a prestigious enough education, for not coming from a more prestigious family, for not living in a more prestigious area. For not being white. For being a woman. For not having enough previous experience when I literally couldn't work unpaid internships because I had to help my family. Or that I'll get my dream job but end up hating it. Or that I'll get my dream job but it will require my own transport and how I don't have my license because I chose a degree that required me to live overseas for a year on my own money, and the very degree I originally thought would give me a cutting edge has instead fucked me over.

Everyone around me is professing their everlasting love on Facebook, along with getting married, having babies and buying houses with their spouses. As for me I don't even know what's going on with my love life.

So now that I've verbalised my distress (and congratulations to those of you who've made it this far), I'm off to try and channel this energy in positive ways, to challenge myself and overcome everyone's worst enemy: personal doubt.

Love, Noeline
xox

Nag nag nag

2012-01-05T17:49:00.000+11:00

So... what am I supposed to take pictures of now? One can only take so many photos of Sydney Harbour. #getmeoutofhere

My Survival Kit

2012-01-02T22:32:00.002+11:00

I've realised the value of always having something to look forward to. It's the only thing that ever gets me through the present.

Girl Interr--

2011-12-30T23:53:00.006+11:00

X: Are you okay? Why aren't you talking?
Me: Well, funny thing is that --
X: Oh my god, behind you! What a cute dog! My best friend from primary school had this dog that...
[Cue Noeline: leave stage]

There are some girls whose voices have the power to shut everyone else the fuck up. Even when what they have to say is completely banal. It's like Miss Popular came and sat down at the loser table and everyone is so amazed she ever gave them the time of day that no one notices that a girl like me has been interrupted, spoken over, or has stopped and started her sentence a few awkward times too many. Everyone will walk away knowing nothing about my life or my opinions - but we'll all be well informed about said girl's boredom in class, how her sister-in-law found ten bucks yesterday and the dress she really really wants to get online.

This is why I don't do well in conversations that involve, well, more than one other person. I think it's also why I write. No one can stop me.

What separates nice guys and the guys who are too nice is this

2011-12-28T21:08:00.002+11:00

What separates nice guys and the guys who are too nice is this. Guys who are too nice are usually pansies. The pushovers of the group. Who can't stand up for them selves. They will most likely be mummy's boys. When they do manage to pull a girlfriend they usually make a fine specimen of one that is 'whipped.' All jokes aside, what this indicates to us women is that if he can't stand up for himself, how could he possibly stand up for his wife? What this means is, if he can't stand up for himself, he probably won't stand up for his children either. Now that freaks us the shit out. Grow some balls. We don't like being the ones with more testosterone in the relationship. We're not asking that you be sucker-punching everyone, just that you be assertive in situations where it's due.

Affordable

2011-12-28T18:12:00.003+11:00

There are some people I could never afford to be friends with. They're the kind of girls who flaunt their most recent Louis Vuitton and Chanel purchases. Who buy each other jewelry from Tiffany & Co. Whose problems involve not knowing which colour Prada bag to buy. Friendship groups like these intimidate me. They have photos of them selves in swanky restaurants with equally swanky views. Do they finish their food, I wonder? Do they gossip and talk about clothes and make-up as much as poor people like me think they do? I once had a friend who pissed everyone off by continually asking them to take a photo of her, and another one, and one more. Sometimes she would do the same thing in front of different stupid backgrounds. Like a plant. Sometimes it would be different poses and angles in front of the one stupid background. Well, these girls have so many photos of them selves I wonder if they have a token man-friend always taking the snaps. And does he ever get pissed off like we did? Or do they always just use a camera stand? Although they wouldn't actually use it, would they? Or maybe they do. I also had a friend who, when taking a group shot always shoved her way into the middle. Without fail. In which process certain people ALWAYS end up on the side, sometimes cut out of said picture by said girl who made it her profile picture. But the funniest is when you get two girls who have the same 'side,' as in the side where they insist on standing because their face looks better that way. And then they end up fighting over who gets to pose on their rightful side, saying the other person actually looks fine from the other. And they're pushing each other playfully and they're laughing but all they really want to do is rip each other's hair out.

Ha.

I will be okay because I can write

2011-12-20T06:18:00.001+11:00

“I will be okay because I can write. I will be okay because my emotions can be poured into words that no one will care to read. I will be okay because I have been told that I have a very creative mind, and that is what I will use to give me strength. I will be okay because with my own mind I can create fantasy worlds to escape to with no intention of returning. I will be okay because I can voice my thoughts like no one else can, and my thoughts are like no one else’s, and yet they are the same as everyone else’s at the same time. I will be okay because I finally have a reason to be okay. I will be okay because one day my words might help someone else be okay. I will be okay because there are people worth being okay for, there are experiences worth living through and there are people worth meeting. I will be okay because I can write.”

Quote found here

Of all things

2011-11-24T02:34:00.004+11:00

When and if I can commit to one city in which to live I would love to deck my house out in decor from Zara Home. I snuck a peak and walked out wanting to buy an ash tray. I don't even smoke. Have never smoked. And have no intention of smoking.

Love, Noeline
xox

Respect to the girls who wear lipstick

2011-11-17T15:01:00.005+11:00

Respect to the girls who wear lipstick. I don't know how you girls...
(a) tolerate the smell nor taste
(b) keep it on despite eating and drinking
(c) can be bothered to go to the bathroom for the sole purpose of reapplication
(d) manage not to stain all your clothes
(e) have the patience to find a colour that suits you
(f) have the confidence to wear colours that don't (or maybe that's the point? are they meant to stand out that much? I don't know!)
(g) go to put the lid on but actually end up squashing the lipstick itself, absolutely demolishing the contours that were moulded there for easy application (tick)
(h) forgotten which way it twists and wind the lipstick all the way to the top instead of the bottom with the lid still on (tick tick)
... Oh yeah. And respect to the guys who kiss girls who wear lipstick too (see point a).

Something to look forward to

2011-11-17T01:44:00.007+11:00

This year has been a dream state for me. I already know it will have been the best year of my life. Apart from getting to see my friends and family, I've been so negative about coming back. But with at least another guaranteed year in Sydney to finish my double degree, a friend suggested making a list of things to look forward to. And since I love making lists, here goes nothing...

- arriving from a European winter to a beautiful Australian summer
- mums cooking
- my bedroom with my bookshelf and baby pink walls
- getting to wear all the shoes I left behind
- Christmas dinner with the family
- New Year with the family
- PP's, Jackson's and lunch at Cabra with my cousins
- getting to catch up with friends (Macaque, Soulmate, Sof, Robert, Boomohn, Anja, Bad Girl, Brie & Dyl & Christiaan, the Bracewell girls, the Telstra peeps, Benyaw, CB, Jesse, Ailoid, Algebraz)
- hanging out with Jack at the uni bar, getting her to show me around my own city
- KFC
- GRAVY OMG
- pork rolls
- Satang Thai
- Chat Thai
- good sushi, cheap sushi
- skype with everyone
- getting a smartphone with a plan so I can use every social app stay in touch with Luce, Rach, Chauntee, Krista & Nyota ALL THE TIME
- keeping up with The Gron happenings through Danny & Jesus, Yassine & Mofugga (wherever they may be)
- finding intercambios to keep speaking Spanish with
- sending packages to all my overseas lovers!
- visit Joshie in NZ
- Gloria Jeans iced chocolate
- Harry's Cafe de Wheels
- Australian beaches
- electro music (never thought I would miss it as much as I have, it's not even my favourite genre)
- Cadbury chocolate
- Krispy Kreme donuts
- Connoiseur chocolate obsession ice cream
- anticipating visits from my overseas friends
- a new laptop (my macbook of six years has had the shits)
- finishing uni, getting it over and bloody done with
- getting to decorate my room with all the post cards I've collected
- planning other travel adventures
- STEAK. OMG STEAK!
- Mi Goreng noodles
- a new camera, one that isn't set to x248923755435876 zoom as its default so I don't have to stand kilometres away from things just to take a decent picture

Joder, my list of things to look forward to looks more like a fat person's shopping list than anything else.

Love, Noeline
xox

Work + Save = Travel

2011-11-10T10:48:00.002+11:00

"i just have the feeling your gonna b australia = work, save money ... travel for a year... come back work save .. travel"
- My best friend

Dating people your friends have been with, no-go zone or free for all?

2011-11-09T15:17:00.005+11:00

"They're going out now, didn't you know that?"
I should have been happy at the news that two of my friends had started dating. But thing was, the guy was my ex. It wasn't that I was still hung up on him. In fact, he was all hers for the taking.
What got to me was that I had to find out through the grape vine. She and I hung out a lot and spoke almost everyday. I considered her a good friend. So how did something like THAT fail to come up in conversation?
Was she ashamed? Was she scared that I would be angry? Or maybe because my relationship with him was nothing serious and I was already seeing someone new, she assumed I would be okay with it.
But what if, despite all that, I wasn't over him? It's funny how hypothetical situations can prove how much you mean to someone.
I couldn't talk to her about certain things for a while after that. In any other situation, questions natural to girltalk like whether or not he was a good kisser were, well, out of the question.

And to think I was suffering. What more for people whose good friends start dating someone they were actually serious with? Actually in love with? Actually engaged with? Actually married with? Actually had kids with?

So when it comes to dating people your friends have been with, is it a no-go zone or free for all?

Here's some of the responses I received on Facebook:
- With BILLIONS of people in the world today, why would you restrict yourself to your friend's crumbs?
- No-go zone. "Don't shit where you eat."
- No-go zone: Who wants someone else's dirty seconds, especially someone you're close to?
- If things progress later on, I don't want to be at that altar knowing the guy standing next to me, or sitting in the church has banged my wife.
- There are millions of men and women in Australia, and the world - I'm sure people can find one their friend hasn't slept with.
- You just don't date your friend's ex. It's a respect issue.
- I don't think it's entirely a no-go zone! It would have to depend on circumstances, like how serious your friend was with them. For example, if it was a small fling and they both don't mind, then why not?

The last point reminded me of when I was on a Greek islands tour, and met two girls who were travelling together. Upon being asked how they knew each other one of them explained, "I'm going out with her ex. So actually, we met through him!" It's a question that tends to get asked a lot when meeting groups of people within groups of people, and they laughed every single time – less at the situation and more at everyone else's reaction to their reply.
"I was so nervous about telling her. I was scared she was going to hate me."
"No, I was fine with it. I could never hate her. It had been a while since I was with him, and I'm happy for her because I see now that he's grown up a lot."

But not everyone is as happy nor graceful about friends dating old flames, regardless of whether that flame lasted a night or years. Like one person mentioned above, it's a respect issue. But can there be such thing as being too possessive? Can you call dibbs on people you had a crush on? People you kissed once? On fuck buddies? And exactly what level of friendship do you need before a certain level of decency (i.e. talking) can be expected? When even talking doesn't guarantee that things will stay the same, it all depends on how much you're willing to sacrifice in the potential consequence of losing their friendship.

“I assured her that this was something that just sort of happened... I was surprised at how well she took the news... After a few weeks, I started hearing from her less... We still remain friends but aren’t nearly as close as we used to be. But that’s the price I paid for getting involved with her ex. I bet most times it doesn’t work out quite as well as it did for me. Honestly, I don’t know if I would be happy if I was on the other side of things myself. My advice to anyone considering dating a friend’s ex is to carefully think about it and what the outcome and consequences might be.”
- Anonymous, Dating Trek.

After all, you should never assume how much or how little someone meant (or still means) to someone else. For example, your friend might only have kissed the guy you want to pursue – but for all you know she could have secretly been in love with him for a long time before that. Despite news that they have started dating other people, talking gives them the opportunity to admit to feelings they might still harbour.

If you're lucky enough to get your friend's blessing, what then? Veronica, author of 'Can You Date Your Friend's Ex?' cautions against making comparisons. Whereas previously you would have enjoyed dissecting one another's failed relationships, doing so now would imply shortcomings on their part. It's like saying "Your ex likes me better because I'm funnier than you." According to AskMen.com, “90% of the guys out there don’t want to hear about their exes being with anybody they know -- friend or otherwise.”

Another complication is that sometimes people pursue other people purely to make an ex jealous. Be weary of other people's intentions, and honest with your own.

Finally, what if things don't work out and you too become an ex? Not only have you lost a partner, but also the friend you'd normally turn to.

Opinions?

Love, Noeline
xox

Reality Check

2011-10-25T10:07:00.005+11:00

I have less than two months left in splendid Spain. Until then, here's my countdown of things to do:
- a 5,000 word research project which involves surveys and interviews with Spaniards, as well as another 2,500 word essay for my uni in Sydney
- three exams for my uni in Spain, whilst keeping up with the homework for each class
- send a box of all the things I've amassed over the past year that won't fit in my suitcase (by things, I mean clothes and shoes)
- if nowhere else, visit friends in Salamanca and La Carolina in Spain, and Casablanca and Marrakesh in Morroco

I have a year left of university waiting for me when I get back to Sydney. I feel like I'm the only one STILL studying. Everyone else is graduating or has graduated, working graduate positions. They're getting engaged and married and having babies.

I feel like there's something wrong with me for not wanting to settle down. I'll be 23 by the time I graduate. And even then I want a few solid years of that thing I've been working for since I was 5. I think they call it a career. I want to commit to it fully, sans husband and children.

If I do that for at least 5 years, I'll be 28 by the time I even consider walking down the aisle. Assuming I even have a steady boyfriend at the time.

So instead of channelling my inner Bridezilla or changing nappies, my to-do list looks more like this:
- get a smart phone and have my first mobile contract
- find a new job, probably two
- take the L's test (again)
- get my P's
- buy a car
- get a motorbike license
- buy a motorbike
- buy a house, rent it out
- visit my family in The Philippines, probably get attacked by mosquitoes
- have a white Christmas
- spend a year or two living in a foreign country (again)
- travel more, everywhere
- improve my Spanish, learn French and Arabic
- decorate my house with my own art
- read more books
- write more
- date someone who challenges and pushes me, makes me laugh and understands me, someone I can trust completely
- fall in love with the above person, marry them, have babies with them, adopt a child with him, get a French bulldog and call it Hombre
- write a column or book (or both)
- learn an instrument, piano maybe?
- reach self-actualisation (Maslow, anyone?)
- re-learn how to use a sewing machine, and make shit!

That should keep me busy for a while. What does your list look like?

Love, Noeline
xox

Fame or Fortune?

2011-09-12T08:24:00.005+10:00

"If you could be either rich or famous, which one would you rather be?" asked my friend rather suddenly.

"Famous," I decided. Because for me, fame is a form of immortality. You live for as long as someone remembers you.

Imagine if everything you ever thought or did was reduced to nothing. Like you never existed.

This very fear of being forgotten has borne some of the biggest monuments known to mankind. Pyramids. Palaces. Cathedrals. Statues. The bigger the better, because the more people see it, the more they'll be reminded, and the less they'll forget.

But without any slaves under my power or a royal bloodline behind me, I'd love to be remembered for my writing. I'd love knowing that centuries from now someone would still be reading the very words I put together and stir their thoughts from my grave.

And what about you, dear reader? Fame or fortune?

Love, Noeline
xox

How to pay for dinner and still be an asshole

2011-09-11T05:38:00.000+10:00

When dating there are guys who pay for everything, guys who pay half, and guys who pay nothing.

But there's also the kind who'll shout groups of friends to show who's boss, then plan a date with his girlfriend and ask her to take care of the bill upon its arrival. Who is he really dating in this situation?

There's also the confused guy fighting an inner battle. One side of him wants to be all modern and advocate equality of the sexes by going Dutch, and the other side of him wants to be all romantic and gentlemanly by paying for everything. So as a coping mechanism against footing the bill he'll complain about how much of a rip off everything is and how much better his mum can make the same dish. He'll count how many hours he worked to pay for the meal in front of you, and how much money that leaves him for the rest of the week and how now he can't buy the pair of shoes he's been eyeing for the past couple of weeks. Then before you know it you realise you lost your sense of taste about five mouthfuls ago. He's been barging on so much now it's impossible to enjoy your food and everything was just a stupid waste of time and money.

Guys, whatever you decide, be graceful about it.

Love, Noeline
xox

One Day

2011-08-29T01:19:00.006+10:00

When a book is so good you never want it to end. "One Day" by David Nicholls is one of them. I recommend everyone to read it if it's the last thing you do!

Some of my favourite quotes:

- As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little ha happened to her.

- "I got to know you. You cured me of you."

- They're dancing together now, sucking in their cheeks and grinning at each other and once again Dexter is struck by how easily conversation can be when no-one is in their right mind. In the olden days, when people only had alcohol to fall back on, talking to a girl would involve all kinds of eye-contact, the buying of drinks, hours of formal questioning about books and films, parents and siblings. But these days it's possible to segue almost immediately from 'what's your name?' to 'show me your tattoo,' say, or 'what underwear are you wearing?' and surely this has got to be progress.

- She drinks pints of coffee and writes little observations and ideas with her best fountain pen on the linen-white pages of expensive notebooks. Sometimes, when it's going badly she wonders if what she believes to be a love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery. The true writer, the born writer, will scrabble words on scraps of litter, the back of a bus tickets, on the wall of a cell.

- Suki is the nation's ideal girlfriend, a woman for whom bubblines is a way of life, verging on a disorder.

- Self-pitying, self-righteous, self-important, all the selfs except self-confident, the quality that she had always needs the most.

- In the supermarket on Nicolson Street they shopped for a picnic, both a little uncomfortable in the strangely domestic rite of sharing a shopping basket, both self-conscious about their choices; were olives too fancy?

Love, Noeline
xox

The politics of the lid

2011-07-28T01:55:00.002+10:00

During my first week in Spain, a friend who didn't want to leave her bed asked me to go out and get her a hot tea, take away. "Un te para llevar, por favor," I said. They look confused.

What I got in return was a plastic cup of tea, the top covered in foil. Turns out it wasn't my Spanish, it was asking for tea 'take away' that took them aback.

Thinking I'd try my luck in a big city such as Barcelona, I asked for a pasta 'take away.' Again, I got a container with a flimsy piece of foil wrapped over the top. Needless to say the sauce would have spilled everywhere had my friends and I not decided to sit on a park bench nearby.

Who needs lids when you're in a country that actually sits down and appreciates their
food? Lids are for countries with worker bees who work to live and live to work. Australia, I'm looking at you.

Love, Noeline
xox

The etiquette of borrowing money

2011-07-28T01:35:00.002+10:00

Don't you hate it, how quick some people are to borrow money, and how slow they can be at returning it? The power play is reversed and suddenly we're the ones embarrassing ourselves as we try to find ways of casually reminding them of their debt.

Borrowers with no regard of paying people back as soon as possible tend to be the kind of people with little value for money – probably spoilt. What they don't understand is that their friend is compromising their own spending habits while they do without the money they lent. Even if it was just sitting in the bank, that's interest lost. If it was something substantially expensive like a concert ticket bought over the internet with a credit card, that's interest being charged.

You think it's an even exchange frozen in time. In reality they're losing more money than they lent you. And they probably value your friendship too much to bring it up and make you feel guilty about it.

That person did you a favour. It's not up to you to pay them back at your convenience. If you can afford to be shopping, drinking, clubbing and going out to dinner in the interim – then you can afford to pay that person back.

Love, Noeline
xox

Cultural Retardation

2011-07-28T00:53:00.003+10:00

I was recently on a Busabout tour around the Greek Islands. Some of the people you come across are pretty cool, others just downright idiots. Let me tell you why.

One girl was pissed off that the Greek people she came across couldn't speak English 'properly.' "I'm going to be so relieved when I get to England after this," she said. She's one of those righteous ethnocentric people who expects people to speak perfect English when she's clearly the one traveling in their country. What makes it even worse is that people like her dislike immigrants speaking their native tongue whilst in Australia. Double standards much? I wonder, when was the last time she spoke perfect Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, Spanish or what-have-you to a tourist? Someone tell me, where's that good old Australian tolerance we preach we possess in such a diverse, multicultural society as ours? These people should be frustrated at them selves for not being able to communicate properly, not at the locals.

Also, there exists a kind of rivalry between the people who decide to go on a tour with Busabout or with Contiki.
With Busabout, you have the choice to hang around the tour group and join every single group activity offered. Others simply show up at every departure point to the next island before disappearing to do their own thing. This kind of flexibility attracts different types of people. There were party people, and people who wanted to relax. There were kids straight out of high school and people halfway through university degrees. There were people on a break from work, and there was even a newly-wed couple on their honeymoon.
Contiki, on the other hand, caters more to the younger 18-35 year old demographic. Clubs, bars and parties feature more frequently on their itinerary than on Busabout's, which is fair enough if that's what you're after in a holiday. But one day, the two tour groups happened to be waiting at the same dock, waiting for the same boat to take us to the next island. "The Busabout people are next to us," one girl said. "I wonder what they do," she continued. "Their tour doesn't offer much. I'm so glad I went with Contiki." And that's based on what observation? Just because we're not table top dancing in our short shorts and wonderbras spilling beer on other people doesn't mean we're not doing anything.

Another night during dinner, the girl I was sitting next to was relating her previous travels to her friends. "Guys, you have to go to Hong Kong, it's absolutely amazing," to which her friend replied: "I don't know, I don't really like Asia. There's nothing to do there. I'd rather just stick with Europe." WHAT AN IDIOT. But I guess if you're looking to be surrounded by more white Australians and dance in bars that play the same music as in Australia then yeah, you're right, there really is nothing do do in Asia.

I was traveling with two other friends and we were having a massive rant about exactly this. One of them concluded that there are four types of people...
1. Tourists: People who just want to see the major tourist attractions and monuments, and take photos in front of them.
2. Travelers: People who at least try to engage with the host society on some level – they will pick up some of the language, try the local delicacies and learn some of their history.
3. Sojouners: People who settle down and make a life for them selves in a country.
4. Wanks: People who have no interest in appreciating or respecting the culture. Like the people in the examples above, they want the rest of the world to speak perfect English, serve their kind of food and play their type of music.

Ugh. Some people have too little sense too much money on their hands. It disgusts me. Fuck immigration, we have bigger idiots in the country who shouldn't be let out.

Love, Noeline
xox

Everyone makes mistakes, traveling makes you more prone to them.

2011-07-18T00:51:00.007+10:00

Picture this:

- Getting an email from the hostel you thought you made a booking for for the next month saying "Tell us about your stay"
- Realising you bought non-refundable tickets online to a children's concert in a bull ring, not an actual bull fight.
- Buying an expensive return ticket when you were only going one-way.
- Rushing to the bus station and making it just in time. There's two in town and turns out you're at the wrong one. Sobbing to the ticket-man who charges a fraction of the normal ticket price. A trip that was meant to take 2 hours ends up taking 6 because it just so happened the next bus going to the same place stopped at every god damn "pueblo" on the way.
- Accidentally locking you and your friends out of your hotel room. Reception is closed for another two hours. The bus that leaves for the restaurant for dinner with the rest of the tour group leaves in 1 hour. Oh, and we were all in our bikinis.
- Going to the bus station and looking out for the bus company you bought tickets for, only to miss it because you should have been looking out for a subsidiary of that company all along. Asking a bus driver where we could buy tickets, only to be let on another bus without having to pay. It's empty and no one else gets on. It's just you, the bus driver and your two other girlfriends. Wondering whether you've just been kidnapped for two hours before landing in Pamplona safe and sound for the Running of the Bulls.
- Not purchasing your train ticket online thinking you could just buy it at the window. They sell out and you end up having to spend an extra night in Barcelona, losing a night in San Sebastian - and having to buy a first class ticket because that's all that was available for the day after.

For the sake of making my friends and I feel better, do share your own stories if you have any!

Love, Noeline
xox

How to travel whilst continuing to live in your own little bubble

2011-06-24T08:18:00.005+10:00

Imagine a gap of about 1cm. That's how close I came to booking a particular hostel in Portugal. Luckily, I met a girl in Budapest who had been there previously and stopped me. She warned that it was a hot spot for other Australians who swarmed there for the cheap drugs and alcohol, a lot of times ending up sleeping together.

"New girls would check in every morning and within minutes they were being checked out by the other guys in the hostel, based on looks. If you have white skin and blonde hair you were pretty much in."

And then I realised I knew a few people who fit this category. Australians who go overseas and party hard with other Australians without actually taking in any of that country's history or culture. And then they say that they love traveling. No honey, you love partying. There's a difference.

The only part about their culture you know is the extent to which they're compromising theirs to satisfy tourists like you. I've met some people and told them that my parents are from The Philippines. Some of them talk about how it's such a beautiful place with nice people. Is it really? I've been there twice and never been to the tourist resorts. The Filipinos I know, including my own family live in poor conditions. The shower is a bucket of water you pour over yourself. A hot shower means boiling a separate pot of water and mixing it in. To flush a toilet you manually have to pour a few buckets of water down the toilet bowl. Going to school means hoping to God you have relatives overseas who can send you the money. Or studying your ass off to get by solely through the few scholarships that are offered. People are nice because they're making do with what little they have. Not because they're swimming around as happily in their beaches as you are. The rest are nice because it's the only way you'll give them money.

I'm all up for people who want to relax rather than sightsee - as long as they admit it. Nothing wrong with it, heck I went to Ibiza. Just don't try to act all haughty and cultured about it.

Love, Noeline
xox

From Budapest

2011-06-24T03:19:00.003+10:00

Sorry for being MIA recently. In the past two weeks I've...
- Graduated with a diploma from my host university in Spain
- Moved out from the student residence into an apartment with three amazing housemates (who knew living with three boys would be cleaning than living with one other girl)
- Went out almost every night celebrating San Bernabe, a week long medieval festival in my town commemorating when they resisted French occupation, living off wine, bread and fish when all other food supplies were cut off
- Finished a two thousand five hundred word correspondence assignment for my uni in Sydney
- Bid farewell to all my closest friends in Spain as they head back home to their countries
- Started my three month holiday vacation around Europe, during which I will probably forget a lot of the Spanish I've spent the last six months learning.

I'm currently writing from my hostel in Budapest where luckily enough I've managed to find some Mexicans and a Colombian who I've been able to speak Spanish with. Score! So far I've learnt how to say 'no mames wey,' 'que chido,' and 'jodido.'

OK, I'm out!

Love, Noeline
xox

How to forget things

2011-06-07T09:51:00.003+10:00

I’m somewhat good at forgetting things. You're probably wondering from what issue of Reader's Digest it was ever a good thing to be forgetful. But I like to think of it as a self-defence mechanism. A self-defence mechanism from the pain of remembering. Of remembering bad things that happened and good things that don’t exist anymore.

If I tell myself to forget something, most times I will forget it. And it’s a good feeling when, one day, I struggle to remember the thing I successfully forgot. I might see something, touch something, smell something. It’s stimulating me, and I know it’s supposed to be reminding me of something, but I don’t know what. All I know is that I’ve blocked it out for a reason.

I realise while writing this that what I do sounds pretty freaky, if not psychotic. But for anyone curious enough to know how it’s done, read on.

“It goes like this: first you establish a screening image. I used white noise, both audio and video: a field of violent static, filling my entire field of view; like a TV with no antenna, with a loud hissing wash of sound… Now think about the thing you want to forget - but as soon as it comes up in your mind, flip to your screening image. Focus on [it]; make it really loud and thick; don't let the thought underneath surface… Most likely the thing you want to forget will float back up into your head. Immediately flip to your screening image again, and hold it until you get distracted. It gets easier each time… it starts to become a habit. As soon as the thought starts to form in your head, you will find yourself reflexively flipping to the [screening image]. You will still need to exert a little willpower to keep the thought underneath from floating up, but… the static [image] instead comes pretty quickly.”
- Forum respondent on Meta Filter

“The trick to forgetting then is not to not think about it, but to give our mind a new path to follow.”
- Forum respondent on Meta Filter

Maybe strong people run away from things too.

Love, Noeline
xox

That awkward moment when you realise you were their second choice

2011-06-04T00:04:00.002+10:00

"He came to see her, but her boyfriend was there, so he came after me instead"

"Funny that he’s kissing her because he’s been chasing after you all day"

"If he likes her why did he even bother kissing me? I know that if she wasn’t here he’d be with me right now"

"The next night my flatmate asked me 'So… what happened between you and him?' and I was like 'Yeah he's such a nice guy!' and then he was like 'He has a girlfriend you know. So maybe he's not that nice' "

Maybe that’s what people do, rank people. They take what they can get depending on whether their top preferences are (a) there at the present moment, (b) in the country or (c) with their partner.

Love, Noeline
xox

Brad VS Jen

2011-05-17T03:55:00.005+10:00

I’m at the stage where a lot of people my age have had, or still are in long-term relationships. Being 21, a good number of these couples started out as high-school sweethearts. They’re either married, or talking about getting married. They’re either planning to have babies together, have already done so or are currently expecting.

And me? After almost five and a half years, I’m starting from zero. As I started picturing my life without him, I realised that he and I will forever be subjected to judgement by anyone who ever knew us on a scale of Brad Pitt VS Jennifer Aniston.

I was one of those people who thought it only happened in Hollywood, until I witnessed it for myself at a party recently. He walked into the room with his new partner, and heads turned towards Maria* who was standing at the other side of the room. "I feel so sorry for her," people said.

One person ends up marrying the next person they find, raising a beautiful family in a beautiful house.

The other one will have strings of failed relationships, usually with assholes, oftentimes into their thirties, and sometimes into their infertility. They’re the one people look at and think 'poor thing.' They’re the one people feel sorry for, the one people worry about. "Do you think she’ll ever find anyone else?" I don’t know.

But amidst everyone's assumptions, whose to say she's the unhappier one? People can be in a relationship and be unhappy too. No one ever congratulates you for being single and independent. No one admires people who have the strength to admit that they're not ready to settle down.

Love, Noeline
xox

Sad thing is...

2011-05-04T04:46:00.002+10:00

“Sad thing is, you can still love someone and be wrong for them.”
— Elvis

Osama Bin Laden is dead. Now what?

2011-05-02T22:39:00.008+10:00

The only thing that ended with Osama Bin Laden's death is just that - his life. He wasn't the last Islamic extremist.

It's like saying Christianity would end if the Pope were to be murdered. We'd just get another one.

"(The celebrations) are just like the so-called reports by American television of Muslims celebrating after September 11, this is just as bad"
- Kuranda Seyit, director of the Forum on Australia's Islamic Relations

Screen shots taken from news.com.au

What are butterflies in your stomach?

2011-04-30T05:35:00.004+10:00

The first time it happened I was young, and all he had to do was put his arm around my waist. I felt dizzy in my stomach, but a nice kind of dizzy. Until then I never really knew what it meant to have butterflies in your stomach.

To this day, I still don’t know how to describe it with justice. It feels like melting. It’s like a feelings type of orgasm.

“Kiss me”
“No”
“Just kiss me, and if you don’t feel anything, I’ll leave you alone”
So we kissed, and I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t get the butterflies.

I’ve dated a few guys in my life, and the butterflies came with some, not with others. Since then, I’ve taken them as a physiological response to my subconscious. i.e. That despite what I tell myself, if I get the butterflies it’s because deep down inside I really (really, really, really) like him.

But that’s just me. It appears that people also get the butterflies in their stomach when they feel nervous.

“I get it more when I am nervous. Like before a big sports game. When I used to swim competitively I used to get it all the time.”

So whether you get them in the company of someone you like or during moments of nervousness – both reactions are a form of stress. When we’re stressed blood is redistributed towards our most important organs like the heart and muscles so as to give them more oxygen. But in order to do so, blood needs to move away from the less important organs like the stomach, and this is what gives off that butterfly feeling.

For those who don’t know, I’m single again for the first time in more than five years. I’m scared that all the failed relationships behind me, combined with the scientific knowledge of what butterflies actually are might cause me never to feel them again.

Ya veremos (We’ll see).

Love, Noeline
xox

Cuantos idiomas hablas?

2011-04-29T23:42:00.000+10:00

Facebook wants to know how many languages I speak, but I don’t know how to answer that.

I was born in Australia but both my parents are from the Philippines, so Tagalog was my first language.

But then I went to preschool and after three months, I’ve been speaking English ever since.

I can still understand Tagalog but can only reply in English.

I can also understand Ilocano which is a dialect of the province in the Philippines where my mum is from. I can also only reply to that in English.

With that said, I can’t distinguish between Tagalog and Ilocano. I just know I’m hearing one or the other.

I studied Spanish for two years in university and am now living in Spain. I know enough to get around, but God rest my soul if someone tried to have a deep and meaningful conversation with me any time soon.

Also, Spain colonised The Philippines, so there are some similarities between Spanish and Tagalog. Like ‘puta,’ jaja.

Que sera sera

2011-04-27T04:31:00.004+10:00

I feel like a kid in a candy store in terms of my life right now.
Oh the indecision of endless possibilities!

Ingredients for a bad kiss

2011-04-11T09:17:00.003+10:00

A friend and I were catching up, and she started telling me about the guys she’s kissed. Some were good, and some were bad… really bad. All her reasons were attributable to him. What he did, and what he didn’t do.

And then we thought, to what extent are we responsible for such bad kisses? Do they kiss badly because of something we’re doing wrong?

So I started asking around.

A friend of mine has a theory that kissing is much like dancing. Guy leads, girl follows. Using this logic, girls have a style that they like, as opposed to a style that they impose.

However, another friend confessed the opposite. "The first time I kissed my current boyfriend, I was so used to how I had kissed my previous one that I went in tongue-first without thinking. He just kept kissing me back sans tongue and very gently - I'm a better kisser now because of learning from him!”

This confirmed another response I received, in which “the first time two people kiss they use what they like, and then its whoever’s style they like the most that will take over. Maybe the other person had never been exposed to the other way of kissing and will change.”

Then again, maybe what makes a kiss good or bad isn’t so much in the technique as it is in the attraction you have for the other person.

“I think everybody just has their own style, what’s bad to me may be great for someone else. And its one of the main ways you know if you're going to be compatible with that person, not necessarily just sexually, but kisses are so important in day to day existence, everything from hello to goodbye to I’m sorry requires a different type of kiss. And they have to be pleasant and reassuring. So if you're kissing someone and its bad to you (if it's not clicking they're probably thinking the same thing) then you should get out of there quick!”

“I honestly think it’s about the chemistry, you may be an amazing kisser to one person but not to another, reason being that you’re not emotionally/sexually stimulated towards that person as they may be to you.”

So there you have it. Everyone has his or her own style. Kissing styles can be received, delivered and changed. Maybe bad kisses happen when two people both want to impose their own styles, with neither person wanting to change, and/or when there's no emotional or sexual attraction for the other person.

Love, Noeline
xox

The view

2011-04-05T05:34:00.002+10:00

As a person living and travelling overseas, I’ve come to pass through some pretty spectacular views. The view of Logrono from the caves inside Mount Cantabria. The view of Waterford from the top of Dunhill Castle. The view of Madrid from the top of El Corte Inglés.

And then I wondered, why do we have such a fascination with nice views? People pay exorbitant amounts of money for rooms with a view. How does looking at something from a long distance spur such emotion?

I think it’s the way you kind of disappear from the world. There’s a giddy sense of voyeurism in looking at a city that doesn’t know you’re there. The world becomes a caricature. Cars look like matchbox cars moving slowly, aimlessly. People look like ants: silly, colliding into each other the way they do. They look so stressed, so rushed. And all for what?

From up high our on-ground worries look conquerable, like the winding streets below that have somehow sorted themselves out into neat little blocks.

And it’s funny because even if you’ve seen a beautiful view once or a hundred times before, through no amount of photos will you be able to recapture that same sense of sanity.

And that, you see, is the magic of ‘the view.’

Leaving (Always On Time Part 2) - Lyrics

2011-04-02T06:47:00.001+11:00

(Bridge: Ashanti)
If you were me, what would you do?
Always a lie, and never the truth.
Now as for me, I’m moving on,
You’ll always be my baby…

(Chorus: Ashanti)
Baby, I just had to let ‘cha go for now,
thought I could take it for a while,
Maybe I‘ll make it back around.
Baby, I just gotta live my life for now,
Can’t see me changin’ for a while,
Hope I could make it back around.

(Verse 1: Ashanti)
Anything that I want I can get it.
Boy, you know you turn me on and on
That’s why I switch my frame of mind of bein’ there when you call,
I’m always on time.
I’m looking to spread my wings and party, everything and for everybody,
I need my space, my time alone, it’s like our hearts don’t match no more.
Still, anything that you want, you could get it.
Boy, you know I still got love for you.
In court I plea the fifth, my baby (baby…)….

(Chorus: Ashanti)
Baby, I just had to let ‘cha go for now,
thought I could take it for a while,
Maybe I‘ll make it back around.
Baby, I just gotta live my life for now,
Can’t see me changin’ for a while,
Hope I could make it back around.

(Verse 2: Ashanti)
When you was cheating,
You was probably thinking I won’t sense a thing,
But love got funny way of catchin’ up to lies,
And your lies can’t look me straight in the eyes.
I’m not surprised that you would hurt me baby, but why me baby?
Just let me breathe and I’ll fly free babe.

(Bridge: Ashanti)
If you were me, what would you do?
Always a lie, and never the truth.
Now as for me, I’m moving on,
You’ll always be my baby…

(Chorus: Ashanti)
Baby, I just had to let ‘cha go for now,
thought I could take it for a while,
Maybe I‘ll make it back around.
Baby, I just gotta live my life for now,
Can’t see me changin’ for a while,
Hope I could make it back around.

(Rap: Verse 3: Ja Rule)
Yo, yo…
Why in the world would you wanna leave me girl?
Is there something I did that you feel is better then what’s here at home?
And I know a bitch could do bad on her own.
You’re not alone. The way you hurt me baby, shit, why me baby?
I be in pain a little, but I know that love is real
And as long as it let you go, you feel the need to come back to me baby,
Who else would hold you and sex you crazy?
R-U-L-E come on back holla at me baby.

(Chorus: Ashanti)
Baby, I just had to let ‘cha go for now,
thought I could take it for a while,
Maybe I‘ll make it back around.
Baby, I just gotta live my life for now,
Can’t see me changin’ for a while,
Hope I could make it back around.

(Chorus: Ashanti)
Baby, I just had to let ‘cha go for now,
thought I could take it for a while,
Maybe I‘ll make it back around.
Baby, I just gotta live my life for now,
Can’t see me changin’ for a while,
Hope I could make it back around.

(Bridge: Ashanti)
If you were me, what would you do?
Always a lie, and never the truth.
Now as for me, I’m moving on,
You’ll always be my baby…

Writing

2011-03-29T08:14:00.000+11:00

The very impulse to write, I think, springs from an inner chaos crying for order, for meaning, and that meaning must be discovered in the process of writing or the work lies dead as it is finished.

— Arthur Miller

How not to live in the moment

2011-03-25T22:29:00.007+11:00

So, I worry about things. Don't we all? A friend of mine thinks I worry more than the average bear, and told me not to worry. "Live in the moment," he kept saying.

But I'm not used to just living in the moment. I'm used to planning moments. And while the moment is happening I'm thinking about how well it turned out, how bad it's going, what's going to happen next, or where else I could be.

And, at what point does living in the moment become an excuse for destructive behaviour? A justification for doing things you wouldn't normally do? A reason to do something without thinking it through? (See? Here I am worrying about how to in the moment!)

I've been like this as far back as I can remember. Throughout my years at school I never stepped in areas that were out of bounds, always wore my hat so I could play, always submitted my homework on time, I wore my uniform correctly and was never late to class.

Even as a child, I never jumped in puddles. I didn't like playing outside so I never climbed trees, never got stung by a bee, never broke a bone jumping off the roof thinking I could fly.

And where did it get me? It got me to 21 with no exciting childhood stories. I wish someone had told me earlier I would regret being so well behaved.

I was always scared of getting dirty, of getting lost, of getting hurt. In many ways I still am, maybe even more so. Because the pain isn't just physical anymore. I'm at an age where I can over think things really well - and make things hurt more than they do, more than they should.

And, how do you just switch your mindset from one to the other? Is it something you can do overnight? (In which case I would have already failed). Does it take time? Or is it too late altogether?

Here goes, I'm resetting my cognitions.

Love, Noeline
xox

La Feile Padraig

2011-03-17T21:53:00.004+11:00

Happy St Patrick's Day!

Writing from my hotel room in Dublin.

A crazy day ahead of me and my girls.

Will post some pictures (and proper posts) soon, lots to tell you guys :)

Love, Noeline
xox

Logroño: La Mejor Ciudad Para Vivir

2011-03-03T10:28:00.004+11:00

It's official. I chose the best city in Spain to live. Not that I needed experts to tell me that, but it's nice to know there's some quantitative support to justify why I love it here so much.

According to LaRioja.com,

El título es el resultado de una encuesta a más de 9.000 ciudadanos de toda España, un análisis estadístico en el que se han tenido en cuenta más de 250 indicadores, la opinión de 95 expertos en gestión urbana y una evaluación directa de méritos.

The title is the result of a survey of more than 9,000 citizens throughout Spain, a statistical analysis which took into account more than 250 indicators, the opinion of 95 experts in urban management and a direct evaluation of merit.

We (oh my god I'm talking like a local) enjoy a high quality of life. The city offers the services of a big city; minus the rush, traffic, high crime rate, snobbishness and price hikes.

For better or worse, people are starting to take notice of this once humble city.

Today my substitute Spanish teacher revealed that there is an increasing number of people migrating and immigrating to Logroño. Just 5-10 years ago, international students snubbed Logroño for bigger towns like Madrid and Barcelona. Now we're flocking in. The commercial shopping centre here called "Berceo" (which houses such brands as Zara, H&M, El Corte Ingles) didn't exist until 2003. To this day, the closest McDonalds is a bus ride away, and there is no KFC.

I hope it never loses it's character. I want to bring my kids here one day, and show them where their mama lived when she was 21. I want to bore them with stories about the club where everyone got drunk off chupitos every Thursday night, the place where I did my groceries, and the street called Calle Laurel that served amazing pinchos.

Love, Noeline
xox

Logroño: The best city to live

Tragedy is glamorous

2011-03-01T06:32:00.005+11:00

There are good-looking guys that don’t get called hot because they’re too nice. They’re just cute, well-mannered gentlemen. They bring out the "awwwww" response in girls. They’re easy to approach and talk to, because their words are never full of sexual double entendres. If he wants you, it’s hard to tell because they treat you so platonically; and if you want him you feel desperate for being the one to vie for his attention.

Hot guys tend to be more confident and flirty – sometimes even rude and egotistical. They bring out the "oh, my, god" response in girls. Their smiles have too much smirk in them to be considered innocent. They don’t so much listen to you as much as they try to find opportunities to flatter you and make you nervous, or contest you so you get all worked up and call you cute for it. But you’re never the only girl they act like this towards.

Girls will tend to go for the latter kind of guy because they make your heart beat faster. They go for this kind of guy knowing they’ll get hurt. The sad part of it is that a small, sick part of them enjoys the tragedy.

Because tragedy is glamorous, and it’s all part of the thrill.

Love, Noeline
xox

love-noeline.tumblr.com

2011-02-25T00:37:00.003+11:00

Boys and girls,

I have made a tumblr of pictures and quotations that amuse and inspire yours truly.

Go to love-noeline.tumblr.com to check it out.

I will keep blogging here as per normal.

Love, Noeline
xox

Worldaholic

2011-02-22T04:27:00.001+11:00

I'm having such a great time I don't want it to stop. I just want to learn new languages, live everywhere, eat local delicacies and travel forever. Is that so much to ask?

The world is so big I struggle to understand why other people don't want to go out and see it too. It's like being given a whole box of chocolates and being content with only eating one - if that.

I don't want to be tied down by a full time job, working overtime for a boss who will probably make me hate the industry I am supposed to love. I don't ever want to enter the real world.

And then I think, what if I'm the one in the real world? And that other one, the one where you work your ass off making someone else rich, the one where you all you care about is making a profit from people who can't afford your products and services, and doing it better than the competition - what if that one's the fake world?

And then I realise it doesn't matter what I think. Because even if it's true, you have to work your ass off in the fake world to fund your time in the real world.

So until I receive a phone call telling me a royal relative I never knew I had has just died and left me all their riches, there's nothing I can do but make the most of my time here.

In the last week I've booked tickets to the Greek Islands, Ireland and Ibiza :)))))

Love, Noeline
xox

Predictability of long-term relationships or spontaneity of the single life?

2011-02-16T05:46:00.003+11:00

I don’t regret being in a long-term relationship. I like that my boyfriend and I can predict one another’s actions. I know that regardless of how nice food is the first time he tries it, he will throw a disgusted look on his face. I know that when we’re talking he will only make eye contact with me at the end of his sentences. When drinking a slurpee I know he will give himself about ten brain freezes and complain about every single one, but will continue to drink fast because it’s the only way he knows how. He stresses when he’s ‘running late.’ And by late I mean when he’s not at least half an hour early to things. When he’s really sleepy he talks jibberish, and says things that don’t make sense to questions I didn’t ask.

As nice as it is to know someone so well, sometimes I think my stories are never as exciting as those of my single friends. They will have numerous guys on the scene, some names they will remember, some names they won’t, and some names they wish they did. They will be kissing one, a few, many or none. There will be stories about good sex, bad sex and a guy who couldn’t get it up.

So as you can see, my stories don’t exactly have you sitting on the edge of your seat, gasping, screaming and dying of laughter.

Upon apologising to one of my single friends about having less juice in my stories than hers, she said something that makes me grateful to this day.

“At least your boyfriend goes out with you in public during the day and takes you out to dinner, listens to you and talks to you. My guy only wants to see me at 3am in the morning. He hides me from his family. I don’t know when I’m going to see him next, or when he’s going to call back. I’m the one jealous of you!”

It’s funny how single people search for what couples have, and once a couple, long for the single life again.

Love, Noeline
xox

Fuck Fuck Fuck

2011-02-04T22:29:00.003+11:00

I've been working on setting up a Spanish bank account for two months now, and counting. Here's to an application that was supposed to take three days, but went nowhere for three weeks. Here's to chasing it up every two days, only to be told to call back in another two days. Here's to a reapplication that took another two. Here's to an application that took so long I'd be out of the country by the time my debit card arrived. Here's to being told I could easily just pick it up when I got to Spain. Here's to being told the guy you need to see is on holidays. Here's to being passed on to a lady who doesn't know what she's doing. Here's to signing another five contracts, and being told to come back the week after, to sign another five. Here's to going back, and the lady being at a meeting, and never calling you back. Here's to asking your Spanish teacher to come with you a third time so she can explain the situation. Here's to having your debit card sent to your address in Australia, instead of your address in Spain. Here's to waiting for your PIN that should have arrived this week. Here's to cash advances on my credit card, and the multiple fees they spring on you - just so I can have some cash in the meantime.

Pretty sure buying a house is easier than this.

Fuck you, Santander. Fuck you.

Your logo makes me want to kill myself

If home is where the heart is, then my heart is in two different places

2011-01-31T10:33:00.009+11:00

Madrid. Taken from our apartment balcony.

I just arrived home after being in Madrid for two nights. By home, I mean Logroño. It was a weird sensation feeling at home in a place other than Sydney. It’s official. I’ve settled.

As much as I miss home, I haven’t felt home sick per se.

So back to Madrid. As much fun as I had, the city isn’t for me. I guess because it reminded me a lot of Sydney. Big, and commercial, fast paced with fast food.

This payphone is proudly brought to you by KFC.

I went with five friends and we were scolded what felt like every five minutes. We were shopping the first time it happened. Three of the girls took a photo while inside a store, and were told off by the sales assistant.

The second, third and bajillionth time it happened, we were in an art museum. Sometimes you were allowed to take photos, as long you didn’t use flash. Take two steps forward into another room and suddenly you weren’t allowed to take photos at all. When it came to seeing Picasso’s Guernica, you were allowed to stand a few metres away from the painting and observe it, but if you wanted to take a photo you had to step back and do it from outside the doorway. We learnt all these things by getting told off.

The final time it happened I was at Madrid’s famous El Rastro flea market. I took a photo of some antique coins, and the stall-holder (an old, cranky man) literally smacked me on the arm and yelled at me (in Spanish), saying that I deserved to be slapped. Conclusion: when in Madrid you’re better off not taking any photos.

We had a crazy night out on the second day. This picture pretty much sums it up. Let’s just say the night started with three beautifully intact flowers, and finished with a flower, a stem and a straw.

What I'm going to miss about Madrid though, are the art museums. Rembrandt, Miro, Renoir, Picasso, and Dali. I saw them with my own eyes, and stood as close to the canvases as the artists them selves once did.

Picasso's Guernica

Love, Noeline
xox

Siesta, Fiesta

2011-01-19T11:10:00.003+11:00

One thing I’ve learned so far (but have yet to master) from being in Spain is how to prioritise rest. Every Monday to Saturday, from about two and four in the afternoon, all the restaurants and shops (except major supermarkets and shopping centres) close. In what is known as siesta, most people go home to nap. During this time the streets are almost deserted; an odd scene to envision in the middle of a beautiful day in a beautiful city that was bustling just moments before. After that it’s business as usual until about 9pm.

Sundays are even worse. True to its Christian roots, Sunday really is a day of rest. This time EVERYTHING, ALL DAY is closed. While the country falls asleep around me, I usually find myself fidgeting, looking for something to do, or tossing around in my bed.

That’s because in my country we’re taught how to sacrifice basic human needs like sleep, eating well and keeping a healthy social life in order to work hard. For the most part, the country is still open on public holidays. Rest, we’re told, comes when you retire. There are hundreds of tourism ads aimed at retirees into going on lavish holidays ‘because they deserve it.’ But why do we have to overwork ourselves in order to deserve something?

Another thing I’ve learnt from the Spaniards, is how to prioritise fun. According to Spanish Living, “every day throughout the year there are fiestas taking place somewhere in Spain, either at a local, regional or national level.” Some are held in honour of patron saints, others in local folklore. Some well known ones include the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona (self explanatory), and La Tomatina in Valencia (tomato fight). I was lucky enough to catch the Festival of the Three Kings on my second day of arriving in Logrono. It featured an extravagant street parade of people dressed up as The Three Kings who brought Jesus gifts, throwing lollies at children in the crowd.

The nightlife here is more like early-morning-life. There are lounge bars you can go to from around midnight. But clubs don’t usually open till about 3am, and close at around 7am. Plus, they don’t wait till Friday or Saturday to go out, clubs are open on Thursdays too – yes, a school night. In comparison, clubs in Sydney die down by around 2am.

Where do they get all the energy? Probably from all the siestas they’ve taken during the week... no... their life.

Siesta and fiesta. You do it not because you deserve it from overworking yourself, but simply for being human and alive.

Love, Noeline
xox

Chupitos from bar Absolut

Festival of the Three Kings

Three stop overs, one bus and one taxi later…

2011-01-14T04:14:00.009+11:00

It took me 36 hours of travel, but welcome to my first post from Logrono, Spain.

I’ve been just over a week and I’ve spent everyday exploring some nook or cranny of this beautiful city. When travelling, keeping yourself busy is one of the best ways to avoid homesickness.

But with sore ankles permitting me from going out, I’ve finally been forced to sit down and reflect.

For starters, the weather here is the coldest I’ve ever experienced in my life – a big deal for people whose moods are predetermined by the weather. But I’m sucking it up.

I’ve also never felt so grown up in my life. Now I can say I’ve solidly lived out of home. Now I can say I’ve had a roommate, and had my patience tested by them. Now I can say I’ve done my own groceries and cooked my own food… and survived. Now I can say I’ve worried about money, I mean really worried about money; about whether or not I have enough to survive, as opposed to something superficial like being able to ‘afford’ a pair of high heels.

I realised that being able to afford something doesn’t mean having enough cash or money on your credit card to buy it. It’s about how much you don’t have to sacrifice in order to make that purchase.

I’m falling in love with this city, and am glad I chose it. Not Madrid. Not Barcelona. But the one most people have never heard of. It’s one thing to say you’ve been to all the top tourist destinations in the world, but all that shows is that you know how to read Lonely Planet. It’s another thing to go somewhere unpublished, to ask locals for directions and be told where to get the best pinchos. For me, that’s the difference between travelling and living in another country.

It’s a weird feeling when I consciously realise I’m speaking another language in a foreign country. That it all sprung from something as simple as a word in my head, an ‘ok’ to study International Studies at uni. People make small decisions in their head all the time without realising the power of where it can, or will eventually take them.

So here’s some things I’ve noticed about my town. There is a fuck load of dogs, yet the city retains its peaceful qualities because they don’t bark. My one dog at home makes more noise than all the dogs here combined, squared, and multiplied by a hundred. There are few gardens to keep them in, so there are about two or three dogs being walked down every street at any given time. I’ve only seen one cat, and it was wild.

Old people run this town. Unlike Australia where the elderly are mostly found in nursing homes, their Spanish compatriots wander around the town till past midnight. The women wear fur coats, walk down the street with linked arms, exchanging gossip and giggling – it’s like Sex and the City meets Meryl Streep meets Spain.

Classes started this week and I needed to buy a notebook. Only problem is their note books are what we call grid books, and grid books bring me bad memories. I used them for math class in high school, my most torturous subject ever. This was one thing I couldn’t suck up. Instead, I trolled dozens of discount stores before striking gold. What’s even more annoying is that similarly, grid books are impossible to find in Sydney.

Also, in bars and cafes people throw their rubbish on the ground below them. Literally. I guess it’s easier to sweep the serviettes up than pick them out from between dirty dishes.

I’ve met some pretty cool people while here. With a particular group of girls, it’s funny because we all speak English but have different accents. We then argue over the names of things are. Like, thong or g-string, hair tie or bobble, cell or mobile. It’s a bit of a struggle making friends with actual Spanish people because our classes are separate from theirs.

The architecture here is amazing, especially the old town with its cobblestone footpaths, sandstone buildings, and baroque churches.

I hope the rest of this year goes as quickly as my first week. And in between my classes for Spanish Language, Spanish Conversation, Spanish Cooking, History and Art of the Camino de Santiago, and doing culture assignments through correspondence for my uni back in Sydney – I’m going to do my best keeping you guys posted with my more interesting antics.

Actually, I’m going to a discoteca for the first time tonight.

Hasta luego, muchachos.

Love, Noeline
xox

New year, old habits

2011-01-01T15:19:00.013+11:00

It's funny how much hope a change of the years can bring. There's so much optimism and good cheer it's hard to imagine that anything can go wrong.

It's in this very spirit that we make new years resolutions for ourselves. And for just a few minutes we genuinely set ourselves a regimen of exercise, healthy eating and weight loss; of finding partners and friends who are better for us; of finding a better job or becoming a better person.

What I can assure you though, is that tomorrow on the news someone somewhere will have killed anther person, someone will be robbed and a someone else will be run over.

Similarly, tomorrow you will not exercise, you will not eat healthy and you will probably gossip about someone. You probably won't look online or in the newspaper for a new job, you will do absolutely nothing and hope that it finds you.

But whether it's a new year, a new month, a new week or even a new day - God gives us hundreds opportunities to "start fresh," we just have to see them that way.

I think what determines a good year is how you, personally, deal with the inevitable troubles that come with being human - rather than somehow surpassing it all. I think that's one of the reasons why God puts us through shit, because we're too lazy to challenge ourselves.

So for what it's worth, my dear readers, happy new year. But more importantly, I hope you all find the strength within yourselves EVERYDAY to keep going when life is hard; to one day look back at it all and be thankful for the personal growth you gained because of it.

Love, Noeline
xox

Going the Distance: LDR's

2010-12-27T09:20:00.003+11:00

Long distance relationships are commonly associated with couples where one person is in the military, or as a result of online dating. I’ve personally never dated a guy who lived outside of my own city. But as I set for Spain in about a week, my close distance relationship of five amazing years is set to become a long distance one. As stated by romance coach Leslie Karsner, what some people fail to understand is that “no one chooses to be in a long distance relationship, often times they choose you.” As straining and impractical it will be, we don’t intend on breaking up over it. According to Stephen Blake, best selling author of ‘Loving your Long Distance Relationship,’ there are about 10 million couples in a long distance relationship worldwide (LDR).

So how do you go the distance with an LDR?

DEFINE YOUR RELATIONSHIP
Are you seeing each other, boyfriend-girlfriend or engaged? You need a title. Define exclusivity. Are you allowed to see other people? This will help avoid misunderstanding later down the line.

SCHEDULE COMMUNICATION
Agree to communicate a certain number of times in a period. “Keeping each other informed of the friendships you have with other people and the events that take place in your personal life is a great way to keep your relationship alive and healthy; and continues to make your partner a part of your life” (eNotAlone). This may be through email, texting, calling, or skyping. Let your partner know in advance if you won’t be able to make it on a particular occasion. Consider time differences and work which mobile deals will give you the best rates.

VISIT EACH OTHER
People in relationships don’t spend the whole time talking; oftentimes you’re actually doing things together. Since you’ll be sacrificing this part of your relationship (and let’s face it, that’s a massive chunk), make vacations to see each other.

While I’m going to be experiencing a lot of firsts (the first time living out of home - let alone in another country where they speak a different language, doing my own washing, cooking, paying bills, etc.) – my boyfriend will also be going through his own whirlwind of a year by undertaking honours at uni. Unfortunately for us, honours students don’t get holidays like normal undergraduates do – which cancels out all chances of him visiting me. I guess we’re just going to have to work that little bit harder in other areas…

TRUST EACH OTHER
“Stories will begin to revolve around people you’ve never heard of and [he or she will] begin to take on certain characteristics you won’t recognize” (AskMen). That much is inevitable. With that said however, “as long as you are both interested in being in the relationship… distance will not make a difference. As soon as one of you decides the other is not a good match—or someone else is a better match—your relationship ends, whether you live 3000 miles apart, two streets over, or share the same bed with your wedding picture on the wall” (WikiHow).

EXCHANGE BELONGINGS
“Give them a personal object of yours so in a time of need, when they miss you, they are able to hold on to something that once belonged to you” (WikiHow).

SURPRISE THEM
Turn up by surprise, or send a thoughtful gift – like an inside joke item.

Whether you're the one that leaves or the one that gets left behind, no doubt that LDR's are hard. Here's to hoping for the best.

Love, Noeline
xox

A message

2010-12-25T14:49:00.006+11:00

To my beautiful readers,

Merry Christmas!

Love, Noeline
xox

Amazing

2010-12-22T21:38:00.002+11:00

Gotcha!

Love, Noeline
xox

Private Parts: Penmanship

2010-12-20T13:33:00.009+11:00

I think it's the little things about people that say the most about them. For example, for me there's something intimate, personal and private about people's handwriting. It fascinates me.

As much as technology and computers have simplified the labour of paperwork and filing cabinets - I think it has also impersonalised our personal lives. I mean, when was the last time you wrote something down, like really wrote something down? I've been in a few situations where friends were required to fill something out, only for them to say "Man, I haven't written anything down in ages, I've forgotten how to write!" You might know your best friend's mobile number off by heart, but would you be able to spot their handwriting if you ever saw it?

My boyfriend and I don't interact much over the interwebs. We're a bit more old fashioned, which I love. He leaves notes for me in my room. When he went away on holidays, rather than sending emails he kept a notebook and wrote to me in it, and gave it to me to read when he came back. I always bag him out about how incredibly messy his handwriting is, about how slow he writes and his bad grammar - but truth is I wouldn't have it any other way. It's just so him.

I on the other hand have always held my pen incorrectly. When I was in year four, I was the first person in the whole grade to get my pen license. But if my teacher only saw my handwriting now, she'd probably faint. My handwriting depends on who I'm writing to, my mood, and how much time I have - which makes me a graphologists worst nightmare.

I write like this 90% of the time, especially during uni lectures. It's messy enough for me to write fast, and legible enough for me to guess what it says when referring back to them later.

I write like this when neatness is a priority and I'm probably going to be studying from it later on - like notes on Spanish grammar.

For when I'm feeling fun and laid back.

When I'm in a downright rush.

I press down so hard leave impressions overleaf.

Graphology is the science of analysing people's handwriting to make deductions abut their personality. They'd probably go "fuck this chick" and assign me with multi-personality disorder. Nonetheless, below is a rough guideline for analysing your own handwriting, and that of others if you're privileged enough to see it. Taken from PersonalityQuiz.net

1. Your letters slope,

Backward - indicates that you are shy, hesitant and afraid to show your feelings.

Straight up and down - indicates that you are a person with a strong need for contact.

Forward - indicates that you are reticent and self-controlled.

2. The letters in your words are,

Fully connected - indicates that you are a social person who likes to talk and meet others.

Partially connected - indicates that you are a shy, idealistic person who does not find it easy to have relationships.

Unconnected - indicates that you are a person who thinks before acting, intelligent and thorough.

3. The spaces between your words are,

Wide - indicates that you are reserved, shy, cautious, and thoughtful.

Narrow - indicates that you are a talkative person, maybe even a busybody!

No spaces - indicates that you are impatient and self-confident.

4. How close together are your lines of writing?

Very far apart - indicates that you are isolated, detached and reserved.

Apart far enough that letters do not touch - indicates that you enjoy social interactions and are talkative.

Close enough so that the descendants touch the ascendants - indicates that you like to be organized.

5. What color ink did you choose?

Blue black - indicates that you are rational and conservative. You adhere to conventions and traditions.

Red - indicates that you are spiritual rather than material, and may have a deep understanding of other people's problems.

Light blue - indicates that you are strong, vital, energetic and affectionate. You also have an original approach.

6. How large was your capital I in the sample?

Larger than the other capital letters - indicates that you are a person with a high opinion of yourself, or who wants others to think that you do.

Smaller than other capitals - indicates that you are well adjusted and harmonious, a person content with your current role.

7. What do your t bars look like?

Crossbars tend to be to the left of the stem of the 't' - indicates that you are cautious, possibly uncertain about things.

Cross the 't' more or less in the middle - indicates that you are not very original but quite responsible.

Crossbars tend to be to the right of the stem of the 't' - indicates that you are reliable and conscientious with leadership qualities.

8. Your writing slopes,

Upward - indicates that you are energetic, optimistic, and assertive.

Downward - indicates that you are steadfast, purposeful, and possibly aloof.

9. Which takes the most space vertically in a line of your writing?

The ascenders - indicates that you are idealistic, ambitious, and intuitive.

The middle zone letters - indicates that you are a materialist, and prone to exaggeration.

The descenders - indicates that you have a tendency to be bossy.

10. How much pressure does your writing show?

Fine and spidery - indicates that you are a person of sensitivity, refinement, modesty, and spirituality. You may also be overly critical and austere.

Firm and even - indicates that you are a person of strong but rigid will, obstinate but powerful.

Heavy - indicates that you are a person of energy and elasticity, able to roll with the punches and adapt to whatever life brings.

What does your handwriting say about you?

Love, Noeline
xox

Being oblivious never worked out so good

2010-12-18T16:36:00.004+11:00

I don’t normally divulge in things about my private life on this blog. But I promise it will be a little bit more interesting than telling you about the outfit I put together today.

The desire to travel and the refusal to throw parties for oneself is a bad combination, especially for friends who like farewell parties (or any parties for that matter).

I have no idea where I it came from, but I have this weird mentality where I feel uncomfortable throwing events in my own honour. Whatever it was that convinced Egyptian kings to have pyramids built in the name of their own self-glorification – well, I don’t have any of it. Zilch. Nada.

I can’t even muster buying real jewellery for myself without feeling lame. I’d rather they came freely from other people. So while my jewellery count stands at zero, I was recently surprised with a farewell party by my beautiful cousins.

I was expecting to have lunch in the city with my cousins, my brother and his girlfriend followed by dinner and clubbing with a friend.

Moments after arriving in the city however, an apologetic message from my friend broke that “some hectic family shit just came up,” and that we’d have to postpone our plans to some other time.

Upon meeting up with one cousin, we headed towards George Street where our other cousin was supposedly exchanging some money for his mum. I was lead towards this supposed money exchange (that by the way looked nothing like an office building).

While waiting for the elevator I noticed someone standing uncomfortably close to me. I looked to my side and recognised my boyfriend who was supposed to be at work that day. Turns out they didn’t need him to come in, and decided to hang out with us instead. Funny thing is, my boyfriend was apparently walking alongside us from the moment I met up with my cousin, and on numerous occasions walked straight past him without noticing. His pretending to be a stranger invading my personal space entertainingly turned my snobbery into a practical joke, especially for my cousins who saw the whole thing.

We got off on the 13th floor, and I made it all the way inside a hotel apartment without suspecting a thing.
“Where’s Raynald [our cousin], and why are we here?”
“This is for you, it’s for your farewell. Surprise!”
With tears in my eyes I hugged them one by one.

We had dinner on our balcony with a view, and another cousin arrived just in time to join us.

Later that night, my very friend who cancelled dinner because of family issues turned up at the hotel. They were all in on it.

After that, two more cousins arrived. (Yes, I have more cousins than the average bear).

It was a memorable night to say the least. I love them so much, and I thank God for blessing me with such beautiful friends and family. I’m going to miss them.

Thank you so much: Nicolo (party planner and life saver), EJ (esp. for eating the shy piece), Charisse (esp. for your camera when mine died), Chester, Raynald (esp. for your credit card that paid for the hotel), Sunita, Brieanna, Geraldine (esp. for your towels) and Jason.

Love, Noeline
xox

The Shy Piece

2010-12-15T12:18:00.004+11:00

Have you ever noticed 'the shy piece?' It's the last piece of food that most people are too shy or too polite to take. It occurs when a collective group of people all believe somebody else probably wants it more than they do, or that someone else has already called mental 'dibs' on it. In severe circumstances, this poor piece of food winds up cold to the point of being unappetizing.

I laugh a little inside every time I see one. I might even start a photo collection of them.

A shy piece of salt and pepper squid from my work Christmas party.

Love, Noeline
xox

Words

2010-12-13T17:03:00.003+11:00

Reality depresses me

2010-12-10T19:32:00.009+11:00

We spend a lot of our lives growing into things that are at first too big. When I started high school, mum bought every item of my uniform about two sizes too big. "You'll grow into it," she'd say. Little did we know that was around the time I'd stop growing any taller.

For me, the world itself is a bit like that. When I was little the world was such a promising place. I couldn't wait to grow into it, to be a part of it and contribute to it in more tangible ways than a colouring book or a recount about my weekend. As much as I loved learning and going to school, I just wanted to get out there into the real world and do real things.

The city seemed full of important people bustling in and out of tall important buildings doing important work. I even looked up to the local grocer and the check-out people at my local supermarket. When you're barely a metre high yourself, everyone else seems to walk around with a sense of self-assuredness. In a big, complicated world they all seemed to know what they were doing, and in their own little ways they were organising it. I was fascinated.

But now I know what they mean when they say that ignorance is bliss. All those toy cash registers are nothing like real life cash registers. They crash a lot, and sometimes it doesn't feel like taking eftpos. So you get yelled at customers who blame it on the company rather than technology. Sometimes they take it out on you, personally. Like we're choosing not to make it work, because we're entertained by people screaming at us.

Those tall important buildings are actually full of people running around like headless chickens. It's full of people being given too much work by managers who do next to nothing, it's full of people working overtime to get them done and not being recognised for it.

It's full of women not earning enough as men because they're women, full of women not becoming managers because they're too emotional, it's full of women not getting promoted because they get pregnant - in other words, it's full of women being disrespected in fancy ways.

It's full of interns learning nothing, abused for their willingness to please, who spend the best part of their days on coffee runs and lunch runs.

It's full of people being "too young" or "too old" to be hired, discriminated by companies who prioritise budget before productivity and the skill of its employees.

Its full of people who can't get experience because there are more jobs that demand experience than offer training.

It's full of people trying to run businesses in the 21st century with computer systems designed in the 90's, but can't do anything about it because CEO's would rather sacrifice long term productivity than spend "too much" money on building faster, better, more streamlined programs - CEO's that claim the system works "just fine" but have never been on the shop floor and tried to use it them selves.

It's full of managers with double standards, who claim to have a "performance based roster" yet give more shifts to the staff they get along with and can flirt with, who enforce rules on other people but refuse to follow it them selves.

The only thing that amazes me now, is how, amidst all the chaos of workplace politics, the world I once admired for its functionality hasn't already completely fallen apart.

The more I learn about the world the more depressing it gets. I wish I could be more positive but am struggling for places to find hope. Maybe this next year abroad will do me some good, distract my disappointment in the experiences of travel and the goodness of people.

Love, Noeline
xox

The Facebook Icon From Hell

2010-12-06T22:44:00.003+11:00

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Why does the new 'Suggest Friends' icon look like the Shittyrail logo? I almost fogot about the train that got cancelled on me yesterday. Am I going to be forced to relive bad memories everytime I log onto Facebook? JODER! (That's Spanish for...)

Love, Noeline
xox

Sticky - adjective.

2010-12-05T12:38:00.002+11:00

The impression given of girls who party in excess without taking showers in between. They are marked by unwashed hair and make-up applied on top of old make-up whilst singing badly e.g. "Kesha's so sticky. Like if you touched her your finger would stick to her skin" - Josh Leigh. "Look those girls are even stickier than Kesha, they're sticking together as they dance" - David Chaplin.

Love, Noeline
xox

The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready - H.D. Thoreau

2010-12-03T01:49:00.013+11:00

Maybe it's a form of tween angst, but recently I've noticed a lot of people retorting that they’re 'sick of Sydney' and just 'want to get away from it all.' Where? 'Anywhere but here,' they say. Although I laud their desire to go out and see the world, and try new things – I can't help but wonder whether some people are just saying it in vain. Like it was said as an expression of frustration or boredom than actual intent. As if packing your bags and flying off to another country is easy, as if traveling itself and adjusting to another culture is simple. So what do you do when you don't live on the set of Gossip Girl? When you don’t have the luxury of running off to The Bahamas when experiencing boyfriend problems?

There are enough blogs out there littered with pictures of the Eifel tower and other travel destinations. What I want to see more of are less people accompanying these pictures with excuses. You can and should do something about it. What are you waiting for?

I feel like I have at least somewhat of a right to say these things because I myself don't come from a wealthy family. Unlike some families who regularly go on vacations, we haven't been overseas in more than a decade. I come from a single income household. I don't get allowance. I help my mum out with the bills. I'm too old to receive child support. I make too much for Centrelink. If you're better off than me in any of these ways you've already got a head start.

A lot of people wonder how I ever managed to save enough money to fund the year that I'll be spending overseas. For the past three years I juggled full time uni with two part-time jobs. When I didn't get enough shifts at one, I found another. Most nights I stayed up past midnight to keep up with uni work. I budgeted. I packed my lunch as often as I could (I lie, my mum does it for me). My outings were few and far between. I lost friends who didn't respect why I couldn’t 'just call in sick' to work, who misinterpreted my inability to eat out, to go shopping or out clubbing with them as a sign that I didn’t want to spend time with them. I researched financial institutions and invested my money in an account that accrued interest, and moved it again when I found another one better. I learned that it’s okay to buy an expensive pair of leather shoes if it'll last longer than ten pairs of cheap synthetic ones. Buying cheap things on a whim doesn't necessarily work out cheaper per se.

I'm not trying to glorify myself. All of these things people my age are perfectly capable of doing, with or without the same hardships, but choose not to do. I'm not saying it was easy. It was fucking hard. But the best things in life are usually the things you worked your arse off for i.e. love, raising children, etc.

Some people spend their whole lives waiting for the perfect time that never comes; they turn into old people with regrets. But at some point you’re always going to be sacrificing something. I sacrificed my social life (and maybe a bit of my sanity) to do be able to travel in my early twenties. So I could travel whilst on the cusp of international legal age, when my body was at its fittest (which at the moment, isn't actually very fit), and my stamina at its highest (which, again, isn't very high). People who decide to focus on their careers first might find they have to sacrifice a potential promotion in order to travel. People who decide to have children first might find they have to sacrifice some activities for the more family-friendly ones.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's possible to be in your late teens or early twenties and start taking hold of your own life, to determine your own destiny instead of waiting for others. And it doesn’t have to do with traveling; I mean it for anything in life, for everything in life. Whatever it is, if you’re not going for it, it’s a sign you must not really want it.

People my age tell each other that they don’t have enough money to go out. There’s an expectation amongst us that it’s bad to have money saved up for something greater than a drunken night on the town. I hope it changes. I hope you go for what you want.

Love, Noeline
xox

Logroño, La Rioja. My new home next year. So picturesque it looks like a painting.

Good side, bad side

2010-11-24T02:01:00.007+11:00

During my time I’ve been fortunate enough to witness the eve of social networking. Despite it or because of it, my generation is considered self-obsessed, fascinated with broadcasting our selves on the Internet. These include our thoughts posted on Facebook or Twitter (of which our updates are probably nowhere as interesting as we think they are), or in the form of photos (of which we probably look nothing like in real life).

Not that it makes our opinions or photographs any less 'authentic,' but I like to think of our self-customised profiles as 2-D versions of the people they represent.

Words on a screen are rarely received in the tone we implied them to be, and photos posted tend to capture people at their most flattering.

A few days ago I was perusing through someone’s photo album on Facebook. After admiring her dress, her new hair-do and nice make-up – I realised that throughout the hundred or so photos in this album, she looked as if she was 'copy-pasted' into every single one. Whether she was in a photo with one other person or ten other people, without fail she was standing on the same side, same angle, same pose, same smile.

And then I remembered the numerous times I’ve posed for group photos, only to have friends fight over which ‘side’ to pose on because it was their most flattering. There will be a quarrel, the winner will make it their profile picture, the loser complies but will later 'untag' them selves from said picture.

According to the website Beauty Tips Online on 'How to be photogenic and look good in pictures,'

Most people have a "good side" and a "bad side"… by taking a close look at yourself in the mirror, you will probably discover that one side looks better. Maybe it's a scar on your face or the way your hair falls. When you learn which side looks better, you can angle yourself so that your best side is prominent. If you're posing for a casual group photo, be the first up there so you can choose your spot. Accentuate your best features and pose your body in such a way to hide your flaws… practice posing in a full-length mirror.

But on a deeper level, extreme levels of such behaviour can lead to issues of self-esteem and disrupt social functioning. A sufferer of Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD) reveals:

When I turn my head to the left, that side of my face is thinner, smaller, my nose is straight and pointed, my cheeks are sharp, my eyes are on the same level and the proportions look fine. However, when I turn my head to the right, that side of my face is fatter, bigger, my nose is curved and wonky, my cheeks are fat, my eyes are not on the same level, my eyebrows are wonky and the proportions look completely out of place. When I decide to actually go out, I am constantly planning how to position myself so that nobody is viewing my 'ugly' side. I hate photos, but when I do take them it's always of my good side. The other side looks like a different, uglier person. When people are on that 'ugly' side, I feel extremely self-conscious and avoid looking at them. I hate it so much. It's gotten to a point where I’ve missed 50% of school because I hate being on that hideous side where everyone can observe and see how different it is from my prettier side.
(Source: PsychForums)

It’s no wonder that symptoms of BDD appear during adolescence, when people start to become critical of their appearance. In the pictures we post of ourselves online we see the convergence of two inner conflicts: the pressure to participate in social networking and the pressure to look good.

Love, Noeline
xox

Draw the rest of the fucking head

2010-11-21T14:48:00.001+11:00

I don't know why but I find this really hilarious.

Being solitary is being alone well - Alice Koller

2010-11-15T19:37:00.016+11:00

Depending on who you are as a person, it may come as a shock or a downright bore to you that last Friday I went to the 'Sculptures by the Sea' exhibition in Bondi Beach... by myself.

It was a spur of the moment decision I made the night before, just before going to bed. Most of my friends were either at work or uni (I was skipping it myself in order to go).

I asked my boyfriend, but had previous plans with his family. I asked my mum, but she had a headache.

I've been wanting to go for years. I don't particular remember what kept stopping me, but this year I wasn't going to let being alone be one of them.

I can't recall the last time I had so much fun by myself (no pun intended). After months, maybe even years of spending my days surrounded by other people, it was nice to be alone with my own thoughts, to get to know myself again.

I was scared I'd end up counting the hours, like you do when you're stuck somewhere you don't want to be. But before I knew it a whole day had passed, I practically left home at 10 and didn't look at my watch till 4.

For anyone whose ever surrounded themselves with other people just to get away from themselves, it was a relief to find that I actually liked my own company.

I think everyone needs to have days like these every once in a while. To reconfigure yourself in the universe, just to check you're where you thought you are.

Of course, you won't always like what you find. Which is why some people don't like being alone. Because they're too scared to meet the person they've become.

But in a way that's a good thing too. It could be a wake up call for change, a personal intervention.

I'll admit, I'm a different person around different people. It's not about being fake, it's about being human. Heck, I have to change my accent just so my mum can understand me. It's just that different parts of me get along with different types of people.

But who are you when you're with no one but yourself? That's you in your entirety.

Love, Noeline
xox

I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind - Albert Einstein

It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it - Rainer Maria Rilke

Being solitary is being alone well: being alone luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your own presence rather than of the absence of others. Because solitude is an achievement - Alice Koller

Yellow Ranger, Black Ranger

2010-11-15T18:57:00.003+11:00

Toyskie: Do you like guys with yellow cars?
Me: No, I think it's slightly feminising.
Toyskie: What? Since when is yellow a feminine colour?
Me: Since forever.
Toyskie: Since the yellow ranger?
Me: She was asian, remember?
Toyskie: And the black ranger was black. Coincidence?

How to get to...

2010-11-09T20:46:00.001+11:00

1) Go to Google maps.
2) Click on "Get Directions."
3) Type China as the start location.
4) Type Japan as the end location.
5) Scroll to direction #42.
6) Laugh, and repost.

Just let me put my dick on

2010-11-05T16:49:00.010+11:00

I've been working on the retail side of a telecommunications company for about five months now.

After having worked in clothing for so long, I started this job feeling positive and up for a new challenge. I've come from talking about brands, materials, fits and accessories to megabits, megapixels and gigabytes. I'm getting my head around what feels like a million different computer systems.

Although I love the people I work with, a few customers are the ones making me feel like I don't belong.

I can't tell you how many times I've tried explaining company protocol, business rules and procedures to a dissatisfied male customer.

You won't believe how often they don't believe me.

You won't believe how many times I've had to 'double check' with a male colleague for their satisfaction, only to have him say the exact same thing.

You won't believe how many times their word was taken over mine.

In this day and age you're either submissive and feminine or assertive and a dike.

The next time you expect to be served by a guy, only to get served by a girl instead, understand that she is there by virtue. Understand that she went through the exact same application process as the others and was still the better person for the job. You should be admiring her, not putting her down.

For as long as there are gender biased people there will be gender based occupations.

Love, Noeline
xox

How to move to another country

2010-11-01T20:50:00.004+11:00

The romanticism of moving to a new country is so misleading. So I'd like to share with you, my dear readers, my stress.

[x] Buy a massive-ass suitcase
[x] Renew passport
[x] Travel insurance
[x] Plane ticket
[x] Get police fingerprint check
[ ] A (second) matriculation letter from my university in Spain saying I've been enrolled, my subjects, and the commencement/end dates of my course (the first copy from them didn't meet consulate standards!)
[ ] A bank statement proving I have enough funds to support myself
[ ] A medical certificate clearing my health
[ ] Book an appointment with the consulate to get my VISA
[ ] Exchange money into Euro
[ ] Apply for Centrelink
[ ] Pass Spanish 4 (no pass, no go)

Getting a police fingerprint check will either be one of the easiest, or hardest things in the world. With my luck, it was the latter. I went to one near uni after class, but they only do them on weekends. So I asked for the appropriate form, so I could fill it out during my 1 hour commute to my local police station.
When I got there, the attending constable had no idea what they were doing. They were making up information saying I was given the wrong form, and that my uni should have issued me the appropriate one. They then refused to give me the $175 police check the consulate specifically asked of us. They insisted on issuing me with a $52 background check, minus the fingerprints. Whenever I tried explaining my situation, they would talk over me saying that the $175 one is only for people applying for working visas and are going to be working with children. Since I had my credit card as part of my ID sitting on the counter, they went ahead and charged me $52. When I showed them documentation from the consulate that explicitly stated requiring the more expensive check, they refused to give me a refund - saying it would take 6 weeks (if that) for the cheque to arrive at my house. So they charged me the remaining amount on a different receipt with an incorrect product description (here's to hoping the uni will still rebate me my money). After leaving the police station I got a call back saying they wouldn't send my fingerprints for internal examination without a registered envelope, in case it got lost. So the next weekday I bought a registered envelope from the post office. I was advised that registered envelopes MUST be posted over the counter of a post office and NOT in a post box. So now I had the added burden of hoping that the policeman/woman whose hands my documents ended up in would be so kind enough as to take the time out of their busy schedule and line up in a post office to send my shit away. Upon arrival at my local police station, there was a different person attending the counter. I explained my situation, that I had already been there previously and was just dropping off an envelope to send my documents away. My fingerprints were there but my form was missing. Whereas the previous constable told me they kept no such forms on the premises, this one pulled out a whole stack from underneath the counter and got me to refill one. She then told me that I actually didn't need to provide a registered envelope, because postage was included in the cost. FMFL (Fuck My Fucking Life).

I've come to realise it's all pot luck within and between police stations. I've had friends who had no problems, and friends who had just as much drama as I. And it sucks because it's not like you can complain about the level of police customer service over something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things they have to worry about (i.e. actual crime).

Even with getting a medical certificate from the doctor, I've had friends who didn't have to undergo ANY tests whatsoever. My doctor insisted on giving me a blood test, which means another week of waiting for the results and picking them up.

Another friend of mine going to the same university managed to get all of her paperwork together last week and booked an appointment with the consulate. Her matriculation letter got rejected because it wasn't specific enough. Besides our name, the four of us girls going to La Rioja pretty much got issued the same one. So we've emailed our adviser asking her to tell the uni we need new ones. But alas, our adviser is sick and has not been replying.

All these little delays are keeping me from booking an appointment with the Spanish consulate who I have to show all this documentation to, who them selves take weeks to process VISAS. Did I mention it's holiday season soon = there's going to be a fuck load of other people getting their VISAs processed, and we're all going to slow each other the hell down! I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I don't end up leaving on time.

Thank God for my scholarship giving me one less thing to worry about (accommodation).

On top of all this I've got five assignments to hand in over the next 11 days :(

I can't wait till this is over and I can look back at this entry and laugh.

Love, Noeline
xox

If you use Cityrail, you'll know what I mean

2010-10-18T12:44:00.003+11:00

So today I was on the train and a lad starts playing music over the loudspeaker of his phone at full blast.

This attracted another lad from the opposite end of the carriage to walk over and say "Oi, hectic song. You reckon you could bluetooth it to me bro?"

They hit it off and next thing you know they're trading songs by DMX and Akon. "You like Tupac bro? I got a couple Tupac songs too if you wan'em. Here let me play it."

FML

Hair Expectations

2010-10-16T22:59:00.007+11:00

I'm so cool I spent my Saturday night googling hairstyles on the internet. But seriously, I've had the same haircut for so long it should be illegal. After an hour of getting nowhere it hit me.

I haven't been looking at haircuts - I've been rating celebrities.

"If I get my hair cut like this, I'm sure to look like Megan Fox. Or I could do that one and be Tyra Banks."

Am I the only one who finds myself doing this?

Hair magazines and hairstyle galleries in general are so misleading. It would be so much SOO much easier if they looked like this:

Love, Noeline
xox

Happy Fat

2010-10-14T17:56:00.005+11:00

Over the past 5 years I’ve managed to put on 5 kilos and go up 2 sizes. Every wardrobe cleanout brings with it the sad realisation that I will probably throw out yet another pair of jeans (or two, or three or four) that no longer fit.

Maybe it's because physical education isn’t compulsory in university.

Maybe it's because I stopped going to the gym.

Maybe it's my once fast metabolism is catching up with me.

Maybe it's because my body is preparing itself for motherhood: the good hip for having kids.

Or maaaaaaaybe it's because I've gotten a little too comfortable in my relationship with my boyfriend. It's like we breathe food. We eat so much we practically waddle out of restaurants.

Commonly known as happy fat, this blog will explore the latter possible cause. According to Urban Dictionary, “happy fat is the fat a person puts on during a happy relationship”.

So I asked a few of the kind folks on my Facebook whether or not they believed it existed. Here's what they said:

• If that was true, obese people would be the happiest people in the world. 'Relationship weight' is the term, and I read an article that it averages 7kgs.
• How do you spend time with you partner? You go out to eat, then you go out to eat some more. One year later you have happy fat. LOL I’m living proof.
• Yes, I reckon people just feel so comfortable that they sorta 'let go'? Psychologically they feel they don’t have to impress anyone.
• Depends on the person, generally I believe it is true. However, there are couples whom are both active and like to maintain their health and fitness... then there are those who do not.
• Yes. LOL. They get too comfortable with their partners so they kinda 'let go.'
• Yes, because you tend to always go out dining together and feed each other. LOL My friend has gained a bit of weight in her happy relationship, especially when you love one another so much you don't care about the physical appearance side nor worry about maintaining your figure.
• In a way I do think its true... they start to become a lot more comfortable with each other, their personalities are enough to keep them in the relationship so they kinda let loose.

It seems that happy fat comes with letting go. Of trying to look good. Of exercising. Of eating healthy (or at least less). We let go because someone loves us just the way we were, are and will be.

The sad part of it is that so much of courtship is centered around food – of meeting up for coffee, dining out, greasy late night snacks and morning-after breakfasts. Christina Fernando, author of How to Avoid Relationship Weight Gain explains that “food has become a ritualistic way for couples to bond.” Heck we celebrate anniversaries with food.

Furthermore, "a study conducted by Cornell University found that newlyweds gain more weight on average than single people or widowers or divorcees, usually within the first two years of getting married" (Lifescript).

If this keeps up, I wonder how people in the future will ask each other out. "Hey, I like you. Wanna go for a jog sometime?"

Love, Noeline
xox

Does my bum look big in this?

2010-10-14T01:25:00.002+11:00

Ladies I've found our protein equivalent! Dime Curves is "guaranteed to give you a curvaceous, full, and prominent butt."

LOL.

Love, Noeline
xox

Overheard

2010-10-08T18:18:00.002+11:00

You can't say naughty words, but you can say the word 'naughty' - that one's okay. And you can think about naughty things too but just don't say them out loud. And if you say them you have to make sure the police don't catch you.
- Little boy to his dad on the train

Love, Noeline
xox

Never Say No To Panda

2010-09-29T20:48:00.005+10:00

I absolutely LOVELOVELOVE these ads for Egyptian Panda Cheese. Gets me every time.

Love, Noeline
xox

It's got to be perfect

2010-09-27T16:11:00.011+10:00

My boyfriend and I were out driving one night. Funnily enough, he was the one to point out how nice our view of the city was. But all it did was make me feel uncomfortable and uneasy. What a waste of all that electricity. Do all those people really need the light on? I felt a compulsion to head on over there and start switching everyone’s light off.

"You’re weird! I wish you never told me that about you," joked my boyfriend. At least I hope he was joking.

Unperturbed, I continued to tell him about all the other things that make me feel anxious. Like the sound of running tap water, especially when it’s surging. I’m one of those people who use the minimum amount of water pressure needed to get the job done. I understand if you’re trying to put out a fire, but do you really need that much water pressure to wash your hands, to do the dishes, to take a shower? It drives me crazy! So naturally I’m the Good Samaritan of public bathrooms who switches running taps off. I curse the bitches who leave them on! Water fountains I’m okay with because I know (or assume) that the water is being recycled.

And it’s weird because I don’t consider myself a big environmentalist.

Also, the books on my bookshelf all have to be facing the same way, and categorised first by genre then by height. All my clothes hangers have to face the same way - so that from the front the hooks form a "C" shape. The clothes in my wardrobe are sorted by season (summer or winter), then by style (jeans, dresses, business, etc), then by colour. When cleaning the pantry, everything is sorted into groups (dried fruit, sauces, asian ingredients, western ingredients, etc) with all labels facing the front and in height order to make for easy navigation. The cards in my wallet are sorted from the most to the least used. The end of the toilet paper roll has must come from the top, not the bottom.

By now you probably think I’m crazy and I hope this doesn’t stop you from reading my blog ever again. But my personal idiosyncrasies got me thinking about a condition called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, commonly known as OCD.

According to Anxiety Australia, people who suffer from OCD are "characterised by recurrent obsessions or compulsions that are time consuming or cause significant distress or impairment.

"Obsessions are persistent ideas, thoughts, images or impulses which are experienced by the sufferer as anxiety provoking or distressing…

"Compulsions are observable, or covert, repetitive behaviours or mental acts which are performed to prevent or reduce the anxiety and distress of obsessions."

The National Institute of Mental Health provides the following examples:

"If people are obsessed with germs or dirt, they may develop a compulsion to wash their hands over and over again. If they develop an obsession with intruders, they may lock and relock their doors many times before going to bed… Other common rituals are a need to repeatedly check things, touch things (especially in a particular sequence), or count things. People with OCD may also be preoccupied with order and symmetry, have difficulty throwing things out (so they accumulate), or hoard unneeded items."

Now I’m not diagnosing myself with OCD. In fact, only 2-3% of Australians genuinely suffer from it (Reach Out) and require medication and/or therapy. But it definitely got me curious about the kinds of things other people are meticulous about.

Here’s some of the responses I received:
• I have problems with things being clean, especially near my bed/sleeping time. Like I shower right before bed, put on moisturiser (UNSCENTED because scented would be too dirty), wash my hands and feet again, then tiptoe back to my bedroom so my feet touch minimum amount of floor.
I can't eat too much orange food because it would dirty my insides. Doritos are an absolute hazard. (But I still love them. Torture!)
I shower morning and evening. If I wear clothes out of the house, they can't be worn around the house again or touch my bed, and if they do, I'll probably wash my sheets again just to be sure.
My fingernails and surrounding skin must be smooth when I touch them to my lips (being the most sensitive skin to test the smoothness of my nails), and if they aren't, I will literally clip them for up to an hour until they are.
Aaaaaaaaaand, I can only moisturise the back of my hands because on the palms the stuff would seep in and attack my insides, and no foundation on my face except in emergency situations (concealer around the eye skin is ok) because if anything touches my cheeks, it will also seep into my insides.
Also things must be symmetrical and lined up if I’m tired or stressed. And if I breathe and I believe my breath has come into the right side of my body more than the left, I have to sort of even it out by breathing in a left sort of way.
• I went to one of my best friend’s houses to have dinner. Afterward I tried to help her do chores so I decided to wash the dishes - the entire time I was washing them her face scrunched up and when I was done she washed them herself all over again, and then put them in the dishwasher. OCD!
• The guy I went to South America with was super anal about our itinerary. He actually made an excel spreadsheet of his entire 8 month trip in advance, detailing where he will be on each single day of the 8 months. He even colour coded it according to location and transportation methods! Talk about CRAZY.
• My best friend, she doesn't like people sitting on her bed. She thinks that germs from the outside are going to spread on her bed that way. She will get really edgy especially if you were on a bus, train or taxi prior to sitting on her bed.
She also doesn't like it when people touch her, especially on the face or hair = germs = excess oils and pimples.
She also doesn’t like sharing food or people touching food with their bare hands. Even if its her favourite food in the world, if its been touched by somebody else she will not go near it.
She likes to wear flip-flops in the shower when it’s somewhere other than her own home, and when sleeping at a hotel she will bring her own bedspreads or sleeping bag LOL.
When eating a restaurant she will ask for a cup of warm water or hot tea, just to dip her utensils in and clean them herself.
She takes a shower every time she comes home from somewhere, even if it means she’s heading out again later that day. That’s OCD I tell ya! But I love her lol.
• I don’t like people touching things in my room. If they don’t put things back at the right angle I get pissed off.
• Locking my car door. Locking my house door. Actually locking all doors... omg I've just come to the realisation that I'm OCD with any doors that must be locked what so ever.
• Having to have the door and wardrobe doors closed before I go to sleep.

What are the rest of you meticulous about?

Love, Noeline
xox

There are lots of people who mistake their imagination for their memory - Josh Billings

2010-09-26T10:28:00.000+10:00

Poker Face Fail

2010-09-17T21:35:00.007+10:00

I think one of the reasons I don't get along very well with other girls is because I don't amuse them with their obviously self inflicted relationship dramas.

Amidst your poorly executed anguish, you love the fact that your biggest problems in life are caused by the sexual prowess you unknowingly emanate.

You say you don't know what to do about a guy determined to be more than friends. You recite your story like he's some maniac stalker you need to take a restraining order against.

Well maybe you should stop sending him suggestive text messages. Maybe you should stop sitting on his lap. And while you're at it, maybe you should stop flirting with his friend. I dunno, just a suggestion.

If you love the attention or even if you love sex, just say so before complaining (or should I say, boasting) about the seven guys who for some unknown reason won't leave you alone. They're not the ones with problems honey - it's you.

Your gracious act doesn't work with me.

I'm not asking you to proclaim that you're a nymphomaniac at the top of your lungs in peak hour public transport. I'm just asking you to be a bit more honest in your story-telling, which in its present style unfairly represents the other characters involved.

Either that or you should invest in some acting lessons and work on that poker face of yours.

Love, Noeline
xox

Well that was unexpected

2010-09-12T22:13:00.004+10:00

It would be selfish of me not to share this ad with you guys. Be sure to watch it all the way to the end. Hope you like it :)

Love, Noeline
xox

Grammar Lesson

2010-09-05T22:49:00.003+10:00

Love, Noeline
xox

"Quieres ser mi amigo?"

2010-08-31T18:19:00.001+10:00

A friend and I were talking the other day about our upcoming move to Spain next year. “I need to learn how to make new friends,” she said.

"Me too!" I chorused. Mind you, we’re third year university students about to turn 21.

"How are we supposed to make friends with Spanish speaking people, when we can’t even make friends with people in our own language?"

"I know! I’m so frigid when it comes to making friends. I never make the first move. I’m so scared of rejection. What if I ask another girl out for coffee after class and she says no? I swear, how do other people do it?"

"And it’s so bad because people see me with friends that I’m already comfortable with, and with them I’m so loud. But when then they meet me I’m shy and they think I’m being snobby, but I’m not!"

So here’s to my friend and I hardening the fuck up. Wish us luck.

Love, Noeline
xox

Pandora: making unforgettable moments memorable

2010-08-24T19:57:00.006+10:00

If life has such unforgettable moments, why do you need overpriced Pandora charms to remind you of them?

Love, Noeline
xox

Protection. Part II

2010-08-06T14:05:00.006+10:00

So in my previous blog we established that pre-nups are contracts drawn between people about to get married. They outline the conditions of a potential divorce, such as property settlement, child custody and/or financial division.

Similarly, financial agreements (FA’s) are contracts drawn between a couple about to enter a de-facto relationship (whereby a couple live together but aren’t married).

In March of last year, amendments were made to the Family Law Act which subjected de-facto couples (heterosexual and homosexual) to the same legal repercussions as married couples in the event of a relationship breakdown.

"Each party [in a de-facto relationship was thus] responsible for the debts they bring to the table and... leave with the assets they brought in," writes financialagreements.com.au

So apart from a marriage certificate, what then legally separates married couples from de-factos? And as lines between the two become blurred, where does it leave them? Will it promote marriage? Or discourage people from moving in together?

Instead of waiting to get married before moving in together, people used de-facto relationships as a way of trialling marriage. Crosswalk.com states that "the number of marriages preceded by cohabitation rose from about 10 percent in 1965 to over 50 percent by 1994." Could those days be fading too?

Or more importantly, does Generation Y even care [yet]? According to financialagreements.com.au, "issues about dividing property... might not concern a younger couple, but many older established couples who may have significant assets or children from an earlier relationship, may enter cohabitation a little more cautiously."

What I have noticed though is that people my age who support the idea of financial agreements and pre-nups are often accused of being pessimistic - but I think they’re just being realistic. And realistically, shit happens. As R.P. Emery and Associates puts it: they "see it as a form of insurance -- a legally binding safety net which they hope to never need."

Love, Noeline
xox

A thing for chandeliers

2010-08-05T21:12:00.004+10:00

Love, Noeline
xox

Protection. Part I

2010-07-27T21:00:00.003+10:00

Prior to getting married, a pre-nuptial agreement (also known as a pre-nup) is a contract that sets out the conditions of divorce - such as property settlement, child custody and/or financial division.

According to MyDivorce.com.au, Australians have begun to marry less and divorce more. If this is reality then why are prenuptial agreements still so taboo?

First of all, there’s the stigma that pre-nups undermine the sanctity of marriage, especially since you promised God to stay with that person for richer, for poorer... till death do us part. But at the same time I don’t think God condones unhappy, destructive marriages either.

Why do airlines make us sit through safety demonstrations? Why do we get told to back up our computer files? Why do we get vaccinated before traveling overseas? Why do we put on sunscreen? Why do we wear seat belts? Why do we swim between the flags? Just in case.

It doesn’t mean we know the plane will crash. It doesn’t mean we think the computer will crash either. It doesn’t mean we’re definitely going to catch a disease. It doesn’t mean we’re definitely going to get skin cancer. It doesn’t mean we’re hoping to get into a car accident. It doesn’t mean everyone drowns. But just in case.

I’m not saying that people should use pre-nuptial agreements to traipse in and out of marriages as they please. I still think it should be a last resort.

But it would be naïve to think that selfishness, revenge and/or greed never get the better of people - leaving others with next to nothing.

"If you have your own business or professional practice, a premarital agreement can protect that interest so that the business or practice is not divided and subject to the control or involvement of your former spouse upon divorce.

"If one spouse has significantly more debt than the other, a premarital agreement can protect the debt-free spouse from having to assume the obligations of the other.

"If you plan to give up a lucrative career after the marriage, a premarital agreement can ensure that you will be compensated for that sacrifice if the marriage does not last" (FindLaw).

Like condoms, pre-nups might be unromantic and ruin the mood. But in the grand scheme of things romance is only part of what it means to live. And to use romance as the basis for financial dealings like the joint ownership of such big assets like property and bank accounts doesn’t seem like a wise thing to do.

"In the "honeymoon" stage of a relationship, one spouse may agree to terms that are not in his or her best interests because he or she is "too in love" to be concerned about the financial aspects and can't imagine the union coming to an untimely end" (FindLaw).

Some kind folks offered me their opinions on Facebook. Here they are:

- I think it’s up to the couple. As for a Catholic myself, divorce is not acceptable. If you marry someone you should know that you want to be with that person for life. So I guess in my case a pre-nup wouldn’t be needed.

- Pre-nups right if you're filthy rich, unfaithful and/or untrustworthy!

- Pre-nups exist for practicality's sake, we want to protect our assets post marriage. Nevertheless, it takes out the romance out of a wedding and makes a business dealing out of it - so I believe that it is wrong in that sense. Marrying someone is a risk you have to take - if you love someone, then you would be willing to give your all, right? After marriage - when you don't love each other anymore, then that is when you do the awful dealings.

- Yes, pre-nups are a must! Especially if you’re marrying a loser, more especially if he has any dosh!

- Pre-nups carry a negative connotation. It looks like a prick husband ripping the wife off or a pre-jynx that it'll end up in divorce.

What do you think?

Love, Noeline
xox

Shapes

2010-07-18T23:17:00.004+10:00

Arnott's Shapes prides itself on it's slogan: 'Flavour you can see'.

But as the years go by it seems they're getting stingier and stingier on the flavour.

I remember being in primary school and having a packet of these for lunch. The best part wasn't really the biscuit itself - but the seasoning left over at the end. I miss those days.

Love, Noeline
xox

Sleep Paralysis

2010-06-27T21:37:00.005+10:00

The first time it happened I was a little girl of about seven years. I woke up in the middle of the night unable to move, unable to breathe. “So this is what it feels like to die,” I thought. Come on, breathe. Just when I thought my lungs had given up due to lack of oxygen, I found myself violently gasping for air.

The second time it happened, I was twenty. I woke up to the feeling of someone pushing down on me, holding me down towards the bed. Fuck off. Get the fuck off me. I couldn’t move. I said, fuck off. Let go. Eventually, whatever it was, did. And my body jolted into freedom.

Under European and African folklore, an "old hag" was sitting on me. According to Asian culture, a ghost was pressing down on my body. The Hmong people call this ghost the "crushing demon" – and people have often attributed it with a childlike figure sitting on their chest. Muslims associate sleep paralysis with evil jinns brought on through the curses of enemies – requiring exorcisms. Today, they are often taken for alleged alien abductions. I like to think of myself as non-superstitious, and luckily there is a logical explanation.

There are five sleep stages. The last of these is called REM (Rapid Eye Movement). As a natural part of REM, the body goes into a state of muscle paralysis. Sleep paralysis occurs when people wake up during REM – fully conscious but unable to move.

Like dreams and nightmares, they can be accompanied by hallucinations. These are known as night terrors. As you saw earlier, these lead to different cultures producing their own folktales.

Possible (physiological) causes include sleeping on your back, sleep deprivation, irregular sleeping patterns, stress, and excessive alcohol consumption.

They say most people will suffer from sleep paralysis at least once or twice in their lifetimes. Let’s hope I’ve paid my sleep paralysis dues.

The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseli (1781)

Love, Noeline
xox

I Am Thankful

2010-06-18T00:26:00.002+10:00

FOR THE WIFE
WHO SAYS IT'S HOT DOGS TONIGHT,
BECAUSE SHE IS HOME WITH ME,
AND NOT OUT WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

FOR THE HUSBAND
WHO IS ON THE SOFA
BEING A COUCH POTATO,
BECAUSE HE IS HOME WITH ME
AND NOT OUT AT THE BARS.

FOR THE TEENAGER
WHO IS COMPLAINING ABOUT DOING DISHES
BECAUSE IT MEANS SHE IS AT HOME,
NOT ON THE STREETS.

FOR THE TAXES I PAY
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM EMPLOYED.

FOR THE MESS TO CLEAN AFTER A PARTY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE
BEEN SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS.

FOR THE CLOTHES THAT FIT A LITTLE TOO SNUG
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT.

FOR MY SHADOW THAT WATCHES ME WORK
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM OUT IN THE SUNSHINE

FOR A LAWN THAT NEEDS MOWING,
WINDOWS THAT NEED CLEANING,
AND GUTTERS THAT NEED FIXING
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE A HOME.

FOR ALL THE COMPLAINING
I HEAR ABOUT THE GOVERNMENT
BECAUSE IT MEANS
WE HAVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH.

FOR THE PARKING SPOT
I FIND AT THE FAR END OF THE PARKING LOT
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM CAPABLE OF WALKING
AND I HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH TRANSPORTATION.

FOR MY HUGE HEATING BILL
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I AM WARM.

FOR THE LADY BEHIND ME IN CHURCH
WHO SINGS OFF KEY BECAUSE IT MEANS
I CAN HEAR.

FOR THE PILE OF LAUNDRY AND IRONING
BECAUSE IT MEANS
I HAVE CLOTHES TO WEAR.

FOR WEARINESS AND ACHING MUSCLES
AT THE END OF THE DAY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE BEEN
CAPABLE OF WORKING HARD.

FOR THE ALARM THAT GOES OFF
IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM ALIVE.

- Unknown

Lessons from Life by Regina Brett

2010-06-17T00:17:00.001+10:00

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch!
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.
8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.
12. It’s OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don’t worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over-prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don’t wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words ‘In five years, will this matter?’
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.
35. Don’t audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative — dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come.
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn’t tied with a bow, but it’s still a gift.

Now I ain’t sayin’ she’s a Gold Digger, but she ain’t messin’ with no broke, broke

2010-06-04T15:08:00.007+10:00

It’s Friday. Tonight, there will be hundreds of first, second and third dates taking place around the country. And the question on everyone’s lips isn’t about what to wear or who should make the first move – but who should pay.

And it’s not just singletons with this problem. What about friends just catching up over a meal? Or people already in a committed relationship?

Half a century ago this would have sounded like a silly question, but it seems the issue is more relevant now than ever.

Here’s what some of my fellow Facebookers had to say:

Their responses suggest that friends and partners operate on a sharing system by taking turns or "going Dutch" – whereby each person pays their own way.

But why is there so much pressure on guys footing the bill? "Consider that chivalry started at a time when men worked and women didn’t. Women, literally, could NOT pay… men picking up the check sprung out of necessity, not out of kindness… [and] it has since been codified into a gentleman’s code," writes Evan Marc Katz on the Corporate Singles website.

And even though 57% of women will offer to pay, 34% are bothered if he accepts (Daily Mail).

With that said however, “nearly 9 in 10 of… wouldn’t go for the most expensive item on the menu” (Jasmin Aline Persch). This is because some women feel obligated to give sexual favours, especially in return for expensive dinners. One woman quoted in ‘The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating’ confesses:

“I hate to say it, but if he just paid $200 for a meal, and he wants to make moves and have sex, I feel a funny obligation, that’s why I feel much better if I pay my way.”

And the remaining 1 in 10? I guess they’re what you’d call dinner whores. "Basically, a dinner whore is a woman who accepts lavish and expensive dinner dates without ever entertaining the notion of having any sort of physical or intimate relationship with the man" (Advice Diva).

It appears that even though times have changed, tradition prevails. Statistics show that 75% of men feel guilty letting the woman pay – regardless of how much she makes (Jasmin Aline Persch).

So putting all these things together, if most men pay for dinner out of guilt for not being traditional, and if some women "put out" because they feel obligated, I wonder how many dates lead to unintended sex?

Love, Noeline
xox

Are you going to Kate’s?

2010-04-28T13:27:00.004+10:00

Missed out on Corey Delaney’s big bash? Redeem your social status by attending – or should I say, gatecrashing Kate Miller’s birthday party.

Privacy settings for the Facebook event were ‘accidentally’ left public instead of private, enabling guests to bring friends to Kate’s small Adelaide apartment.

At the time of writing this entry, there were 75, 014 attendees.

The brainchild of online prankster David Thorne, Kate’s birthday party is a political stunt against Facebook’s privacy settings.

He linked his twitter followers with the event and told them to “hit attend… and give the host an aneurysm.”

“While the entire birthday party event was a hoax, it illustrates the risks posed by failing to double-check privacy settings on Facebook,” he says.

Like one big inside joke between Facebook users, there are over 500 Facebook pages such as ‘A380 to get to Kate's Party,’ ‘I can't decide what to wear to Kate's party,’ ‘But Mum EVERYONE Is Going To Kate's Party,’ ‘Getting naked and holding glow sticks at Kate's party’ and ‘Which Turban should I wear to Kate's party?’

The Kate’s Party National Tour is inviting people party for real in their state’s capital city. They are also selling ‘I went to Kate’s party’ t-shirts for those who don’t know what to wear.

Here’s to David Thorne - viral genius.

Love, Noeline
xox

There in person, not in spirit.

2010-04-23T11:55:00.008+10:00

Last week I went to a concert. The girl in front of me spent the best part of the show with her head down to her digital camera, zooming in and out of numerous luvos taken before she left home.

It reminded me of the time a bunch of friends and I went out, and instead of hanging out with the rest of us, a couple spent most of the time logging into Facebook every five minutes, looking at pictures of people they barely even knew. The funny thing is they actually updated their status about how much ‘fun’ they were having. Righto...

Which makes me wonder, when people change their status to express how they’re having the time of their lives at this or that festival, this or that party, this or that dinner – are they really just ignoring their friends to update their acquaintances?

Like when people have a photo album dedicated to the attendance of a particular concert, and all there is are 187 luvos taken before the actual thing.

And what about people with albums titled this or that birthday party and all they have to show for it are 981 photos that all look the same – photos of themselves and a few others in front of a drive way when the real party was going on inside.

Or when people pay hundreds of dollars in tickets and new outfits to go to this or that music festival – and all that’s dished up is 28789473487 pictures spread across numerous albums – pictures taken away from the stage, away from the music they supposedly love.

“The perfect example is people who take millions of travel photos and you wonder whether they saw anything or just took pictures” – Marie Claire magazine

There’s a mentality that pictures and status updates somehow quantify experiences into something greater than the sum of its parts; and that this is further substantiated by the number of comments it can attract.

Without something tangible to publish in the online world, how many people know I went out to dinner with my old work mates, that afterwards we had ice cream and girly chats over a harbour view? How many people know I went out with my new work mates, that we had a barbeque and went bush walking afterwards? You wont know about it through Facebook, but I sure had fun.

There’s a certain point where technology stops recording precious moments and replaces them instead. A lot of people are guilty of it. The rest are enjoying them selves way too much to prove it to the rest of the world through self-documentation.

Love, Noeline
xox

Photo by Aileen Apostol

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. / Find out what it means to me

2010-03-17T00:24:00.007+11:00

Fair enough. When you're 12 or 13 it's cool to hate your family. To think they're only there to make your life a living hell. That way, without knowing it, we became the perfect target market for bands like Simple Plan, Linkin Park and Blink 182.

But now we're in our 20's. And I find it sad when people my age are still bragging about the massive fight they just had with their mother, taking care not to leave out any of the swear words hurled at her. Bragging about how they haven't been home in weeks because they'd rather go out partying with their friends.

I'm talking about the ones who are proud about being disrespectful for no apparent reason.

To me, how a man treats his immediate family now is a reflection of how he'd treat me and our family if we ever ended up married.

Love, Noeline
xox

Cultural Albinism

2010-03-01T01:24:00.006+11:00

There’s a peculiar struggle people born of immigrant parents go though every time they’re asked what nationality they are. Am I Australian because I was born and raised here? Or am I Filipino because that’s where my parents are from?

My brothers and I speak English with an Australian accent, and we don’t know how to speak Tagalog (the national language of The Philippines). We don’t address each other with ate or kuya (sibling titles that precede the first name of an elder brother or sister). We seldom eat traditional Filipino dishes. My cousins and I don’t practice mano (Filipino custom of placing an elder’s right hand to your forehead while bowing as a mark of respect), and we wear our shoes in each other’s houses instead of taking them off at the door.

Even though I can’t help that these things were never really forced upon me, I would be lying if I said I didn’t actively shun my cultural heritage either.

I cringe at both the sight and the afterthought of Filipino TV. I’m plagued by a montage of people dancing out of time and singing out of tune to American pop songs. It’s so bad evenI feel embarrassed for them.

It makes me angry that in order to be a Filipino celebrity you have to be Eurasian first. I was flipping through the pages of a Filipino tabloid style magazine, to find the pages swamped with idealised versions of what Filipinos wish they were – long legged with white skin, deep set eyes and aquiline noses. And all of a sudden it seemed they were the ones ashamed of me: 5”2 with tanned skin, dark hair and dark eyes with short legs and a big nose. Touché.

I couldn’t help but wonder, why are Filipinos so ashamed about being Filipino? Why do so many Filipinos of my generation feel the need to substitute their identity with a cup of Spanish grandparents and two tablespoons of Chinese cousin to validate their self worth?

The practice is so widespread it’s attracted its own unofficial medical diagnosis:

IMSCF Syndrome… many Filipinos, when questioned about their ancestry and national origin… recite the phrase "I'm Spanish, Chinese, Filipino". The name of the syndrome itself is an acronym formed from the first letters of this recited phrase.
- Indopedia

The virulence of IMSCF syndrome comes as even more of a surprise considering only 1% of the Filipino population have Spanish blood in them, and only 3% have Chinese ancestry. In fact, a staggering 95% of the population is UNMIXED Malay (Indopedia). So despite Filipino families and their myths about a great-great Spanish grand father – the one who blessed them with their Hispanic surname,

the overwhelming majority of Filipinos with Spanish surnames acquired them as a result of the… Alphabetic Catalogue of Surnames… imposed on the entire Filipino population by the Spanish royal courts in order to facilitate… tax collecting
- Indopedia

At the root of IMSCF syndrome lies an inferiority complex:

a form of internalized oppression, characterized by a perception of ethnic or cultural inferiority that is believed to be a consequence of colonization under Spain and the U.S.
- The Colonial Mentality Project

Filipinos are still under the impression that their colonisers were well intentioned - the Spanish in bringing Catholicism and the Americans with democracy; and that these social systems saved them from their own backwardness. Take the following two testimonials:

In retrospect, I lived in my own little ignorant world – saying yeah, we were owned by Spain before… not thinking that they had subjugated us to anything we didn’t want. But in reality, our original identity was stripped from us… we fell victim to the perils of colonialism for Spain’s greed of gold, spices, easy access to more “valuable” areas like China or Japan… and we were made to thank them for it… When I first learned about Spanish colonization, I didn’t think it was a bad thing. I was like wow, cool they gave us Catholicism and Spanish-sounding last names… I’m glad I know why my last name is like that and not something more “indigenous”… Why has it become so popular to be so ignorant?
- The Colonial Mentality Project

I brought up the notion that America is trying to colonize Iraq, just as they did to the Philippines. “No they didn’t” my dad replied unhesitatingly, “America saved [us]”
- The Colonial Mentality Project

So if Europeans represent the best in all there is to be Filipino, its no wonder they do everything they can to claim a genetic share to that glory. And it doesn't end there. In an attempt to emulate the idealised “mestizo look” Filipinos are big consumers of skin whitening products – from whitening soap to whitening lotion to whitening pills (Nadal, Filipino American Psychology).

“Over here [in the Philippines], white skin is considered better. I cannot tell you how many products are advertised and sold here to “whiten” our skin. Marrying a white man for Filipinas is a step up… socially and economically. Mixed children by white men here are thought of as more valuable, precious, and better prepared for modern society… shown as trophies”
- Root, Filipino Americans: Transformation and Identity)

As Barth Suretsky puts it, “Until the Filipino takes pride in being Filipino these ills of the soul will never be cured.” Not blind pinoy pride – but real pride that comes from an honest re-evaluation of historical events, and the rewriting of that history from a Filipino’s point of view – not a Spaniard’s, and not an American’s. Only then will we find what it truly means to be Filipino. Maybe then I can be proud of a culture that accepts itself, a culture that accepts me.

Love, Noeline
xox

If you got it, flaunt it. But If you don't got it, fake it.

2010-02-14T18:55:00.010+11:00

I've always been a firm believer that life's better as a boy than it is as a girl.

One - they don't wear bras which of course means they don't have to buy bras. They're fucking expensive.

Two - their whole lives don't revolve around their menstrual cycle. Should I wear white shorts? Should I go to the beach?

Three - they don't experience period pain. They fucking cane.

Four - they don't have to pay for pads and/or tampons - the cost of which add up to $2,000-$4,000 US in a lifetime. That's $2,253 - $5,445 AU.

Five - without skirts and dresses, tank tops, one shoulder tops, boob tubes, halter neck tops and one inch heels to six inch heels - the number of outfits their wardrobe can possibly make is drastically reduced. Thus saving them time which girls spend weeks planning together through numerous phone calls, text messages, Facebook comments, and Skype sessions.

Six - they don't wear make up. According to Mail Online, "Women spend £8,500 on make-up during their lifetime" - which equates to around $15,000 AU.

Seven - on top of these, and this step is optional, we fake stuff. Some things more than others. Fake tan. Fake cup size. Fake hair colour. Fake hair length. Fake eye colour. Fake eye lashes. Fake nails. Etc.

Eight - we're the ones who get pregnant. Which means more money on maternity clothes and maternity bras. And don't even get me started on the physical trauma.

Nine - while we're shaving and/or waxing our body hair, it's socially acceptable for men not to give theirs a second thought. According to UPI, women who shave spend about $10,207 US ($11,500 AU) in their lifetime, compared to $23,000 US ($25,915 AU) for those who wax.

In other words, being a boy is more cost and time effective. Oh how I envy them.

Love, Noeline
xox

"If we're both not married by twenty-five / I hope that there's some childish spark still alive"

2010-01-30T20:48:00.004+11:00

Slow Club – When I go (lyrics)

If we're both not married by twenty-two
Could I be so bold and ask you?
If we're both not married by twenty-three
Will you make my year, and ask me?

If we're both not married by twenty-four
Will you pass me those knee pads and I'll get on the floor
If we're both not married by twenty-five
I hope that there's some childish spark still alive…

If I get to thirty and I don't have a wife
I'll ask you nicely but I won't ask twice
If I get to forty and I don't have a spouse
I'll fashion you a letter and I'll send it to your house

If I get to sixty will you let me slip away
Into an armchair for the rest of my days
Cos you've got your family and I've got mine
The love that we share is for another time…

Some people 'shotgun the front seat'. Other people call 'dibbs' on husbands. The latter practice was brought to my attention when my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend called him and asked if their deal was still on.

Let me tell you why I found it extremely rude. Firstly, he was already in a relationship with me the time she felt the need to clarify their arrangement. She made me feel like the intermission in the middle of their god damn fairytale. Like he could never really love me, because a part of him would always be saving the best of himself for her. She made me feel helpless. Like no matter how well I treated him, no matter how much I grew to care for him – she would always be that ghost with the upper hand.

So that was years ago and now we’re still together. But a couple of weeks ago an episode of How I Met Your Mother resurrected the topic. And with a little less fired-up personal involvement – so I hoped for a little more perspective. Which got me thinking: what makes people bring themselves to such a commitment anyway?

Here’s what some of you said:
- I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. It won’t necessarily be a marriage based on romance, but on companionship. And what’s wrong with companionship?
- I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life than marry someone who I, deep down didn’t really want to be with in the first place. As if a marriage, let alone a relationship could work if both the people were once each other’s second choice – if that!
- People who get back-up spouses are insecure about their own life, and don’t want to live or die alone.
- Back-ups are always good. Because how bad would it be if you were forty and didn’t know anyone you could be with?
- I’d rather go to Asia and find a wife if I was that desperate.
- My mates and I were watching that episode (of How I Met Your Mother), and they all said they’d do it because at that age they wouldn’t be bothered to fish around.
- If you ever think of agreeing to being a back-up spouse, I think it’s a good idea to remember what happened to Julia Roberts’ character in My Best Friend’s Wedding
- The idea of it defies the objective to find ‘the one’ because in the back of your mind you know you’ll have a last resort.
- I said that to a guy I used to have something going on with. I said it as a joke to keep him around. I think it’s stupid now.
- An ex and I promised this to each other when we were 15. I don't know whether we will go through it. Or if it will even be legal here by the time it might actually happen.
- I have a very strange relationship with a boy I've grown up with, and we've both talked about this. We have a LOT of unresolved sexual tension but we're too comfortable with each other to do anything about it. However, we have agreed that if I reach the age of 36 and six months (where he will be 37 and four months) and neither of us are married or involved with anyone else, we'll have a crack at it. It sometimes scares me that this might actually happen.

If backing up our computer files is a smart thing to do, can the same be said of our love lives? Tell me, when it comes to relationships, is it really better to be on the safe side?

Love, Noeline
xox

At night rave near the guard's compartment, naked with a blue light

2010-01-11T23:00:00.011+11:00

In the last 2 weeks you gave me air conditioning when it was storming, and none when it was 40 degrees celsius.
Then when I was meant to meet up with a friend, you canceled my train all together.
Then, you gave me three weekends of track work in a row.
Then you had the nerve to increase the price of my train ticket.
Then, both the ticket window and machine wouldn't accept eftpos. I had $1.
After that you gave me track work on a week day. You told me a bus would come every 10 minutes. It came every 30.

I pay $3 more for a weekly ticket than what I did 2 years ago. Funny thing is your service (or lack thereof) is just as shit as it's ever been. That's an extra $156 every year.

So what the hell do you all do when there's so called 'track work'? Is that code word for 'holiday'?

So from the bottom of my heart, FUCK YOU Cityrail, FUCK YOU. Looks like a bad year ahead for you and I.

“Only in NSW would commuters be asked to pay more for services that are getting worse.”
- State Opposition transport spokeswoman Gladys Berejiklian

Some best friend you are

2010-01-07T23:31:00.005+11:00

Customer: [comes back from the fitting room with about 5 items] Can I put these on hold till the end of the week?
Sales Assistant: Sorry, we can only hold till the end of the day.
Customer: But, I'm like best friends with the manager. She let's me hold stuff for as long as I want all the time.
Sales Assistant: Anne* no longer works here.
Customer: Oh really? Since when?
Sales Assistant: About a week or two ago.
Customer: [walks out]

Smoke & Tell

2009-12-27T15:25:00.007+11:00

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make sound?

Or better yet - if a guy smokes behind his girlfriend’s back, and she wasn’t there to see it, has he still broken his promise?

As of late I’ve noticed people doing things their partners believe they either (1) never did or (2) don’t do anymore. It can involve smoking as shown in the example above, or it can be the odd marijuana joint. It could involve talking – maybe even catching up with someone you had (or still do have) a thing for.

It’s no wonder why some people like to keep their love lives and their social lives in separate bubbles, and why the other unrelentingly proposes for a merger.

But did anyone ever stop to think about what the mutual friends go through?

We have to go about keeping the trust of one while betraying the other: because God knows if I was her I’d wish someone had told me earlier (you might have to read that a couple of times for it to make sense).

You might think you’re the victim of a controlling partner who made you hide things from them to keep your sanity, but we’re collateral damage when word gets out.

Whether we were friends with your partner before you guys started dating, or whether you introduced us – we lose the respect of that person because it becomes obvious we too were conspirators.

So have mercy on us next time you tell us not to tell your girlfriend. We appreciate that you're confiding in us, and of course we’re here for you – but can we suggest that as a new years resolution you be more honest in your relationship?

Love, Noeline.
xox

Present etiquette

2009-12-26T00:33:00.008+11:00

From the 1st to the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me... well, nothing. And the feeling’s mutual. I didn’t get my boyfriend anything either. This may come as a shock to some of you, as did a friend of mine when she asked what I had got him. "We don’t really believe in giving presents for the sake of it," I told her.

If only her now ex-boyfriend lived by the same philosophy. He "chucked a sook" having received a canvas print from her one Christmas. My guess is that he was wondering where the other nine parts to his gift were.

How did we come to breed kids with attitudes such as these anyway? Then I thought back to my shifts in retail this Christmas season, and how I’ve swiped many a parent’s credit card for upwards of $500 on one child.

I trolled the internet hoping to point fingers at who got us into this mess.

According to Articles Base, "in the Christian faith gifts… represent the presents the wise men brought to the baby Jesus." Since then "gift giving became a symbolic reminder of the birth of Christ."

Then, “Christmas shopping was encouraged to overcome the depression during the period 1839-40” (All Things Christmas). There’s not much difference in 2009, with recent news coverage lamenting that this year’s Christmas expenditure won’t be enough to undo the damage of the global financial crisis.

Ironic how materialism rides on spirituality.

Love, Noeline.
xox

Ponder-replay

2009-12-17T00:47:00.004+11:00

A couple of weeks ago, I lost my phone for the second time in two years. Fearing that this might actually become a yearly ritual, I have decided to refrain from such things as Blackberrys and iPhones.

So I bought a $39 brick from the Optus store. Supposedly locked to the Optus network, I teamed it with a $5 sim card from Virgin. Which makes me wonder, what actually goes on when people fork out $80 for an 'unlocking' service fee?

Things that make him go mmmm...

2009-11-25T00:19:00.005+11:00

… I'm thirty years old. I have never, ever cheated on a girlfriend. I only date one girl at a time... But I must admit that I look… no matter how hard I've tried to change, I can't. The only way I can't look is if I focus all attention on not looking… It's a reaction, plain and simple. As involuntary as turning your head when you hear your name…
- Answer Bag

Some call it checking out. Others call it perving. Call it whatever you want, they all mean the same thing. Here are two definitions I grabbed from Urban Dictionary:

To look at someone's features in order to determine that person's level of sexual attractiveness and the extent to which you would like to [fuck them].

…to look them up and down and assess how attracted to them you are, based on physical appearance only. Can be done by both males and females. If you’re a straight guy, you would "check out" girls but not other guys - even if you appreciate that they are attractive, this is different to being attracted to them.

With these things said, is it really harmless to look without touching?

From the outset of our relationship, my boyfriend and I have always perved on girls together. Shopping centers, public spaces and television screens beware. Most times I find it fun. Other times I find it frustrating when he approves of a girl I clearly find unattractive, or disagrees about a girl I find gorgeous. In so doing I’ve taught him such things as the disaster that is fake tan, and the difference between waif bodies and hourglass figures. Without realising, it became a part of our relationship I didn’t question.

That was until numerous friends reported almost breaking up with their partners who either (a) got hurt by ‘inconsiderate’ comments like ‘Damn I’d tap Megan Fox any day’ or (b) didn’t understand how in the world their partner could be offended by similar exclamations.

Wondering if relationship etiquette for such circumstances existed, I put it out there:
Is it okay to perve on other people while in a relationship, whether or not your partner is there with you in person, silently in your head and/or out loud?

Here’s what some of you said:

“I don’t mind. I feel that if one does so silently it means they feel guilty? Which would make you wonder. By that I mean feeling guilt towards their partner because they did it silently (in secret).”

“It is ok to perve at all times. It’s only embarrassing when you get caught by the perve-ee.”

“To 'look' silently is oh but natural, to look 'out loud' is just rude.”

“Depends on the circumstances. If both partners are okay with it then it makes it okay but… one or the other will have their self-esteem affected by it, even in the smallest of ways.”

“My boyfriend and I have been together for 3 years and we've discussed this many times! For us, it's completely ok to 'perve' on other people, as long as it's nothing more than that. I think that looking at the opposite sex is in our nature, and it's not like we have any intentions beyond that, it's just admiring!”

“I reckon it’s a-ok! You’re in a relationship with them so they should be your best bud as well. Your opinions matter and if you think that someone is good looking, either of the opposite sex or not, its a free country and you’re entitled to your opinion. We don’t all date Johnny Depps and Jude laws so just a little perve keeps us sane!”

“I'm ok with it just as long as your partner is always honest and faithful. If you trust them, I don't see the reason why not. Just as long as they're not over the top, and make such a big deal about the hot person that the significant other's self esteem is crushed. Oh, and just as long as they always remind you how beautiful you are too.”

From some of the responses it seems that perving is okay as long as it’s with A-list celebrities us mortals don’t stand a chance of leaving our partners for.

From some of the other responses it seems that who you perve on is beside the point – that to check someone else out is to inadvertently point out the flaws and shortcomings of your partner.

From the rest of the responses it seems that you can’t call a ‘natural’ reflex wrong in the first place. But whether or not you might as well share what’s on your mind or keep them to yourself is a whole other contentious issue.

It seems that Australian men are going with the first option, and not tastefully either. Author of online column called Sex and the Suburbs writes:

I'm not sure if they are aware of how obvious their perving is or if they simply just don't care but when [they] nearly give…[themselves] whiplash to have another look at you when he walks past[,] it's kind of hilarious.

What do you think? I’d love to hear your stories!

Love, Noeline
xox

Mummy, what’s a bump-and-grind?

2009-11-02T12:26:00.007+11:00

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they suddenly find themselves detached from popular culture, forcing one to contemplate whether or not they’re getting old.

That moment came to me a couple of nights ago. It’s not that I got excited about a Spotlight sale, nor was I contemplating about throwing a Tupperware party - I was at an inner city Hip-Hop and R&B club for my friend’s 20th birthday.

Some of the songs I didn’t know at all. Most of the songs I remember NOT downloading because, and to use this term loosely, they sounded gay. Everything sounded like it was produced by ABC’s Playschool, featuring Big Ted.

And there I was, caught between rips of people who seemed not to notice a thing.

For obvious reasons, a friend I call my soul mate felt the exact same way. In between Akon songs gone wrong (and of that there was ten too many), we lamented over where all the good Hip-Hop and R&B had disappeared to (the one's we grew up listening too anyway). Lil Jon, Jay-Z, The Ying Yang Twins, Fatman Scoop, Busta Rhymes, 50 Cent and Ludacris were nowhere to be seen, or should I say heard.

If you know where all the good R&B's gone, holla.

Love, Noeline
xox