I’m scared of commitment (to 24 month phone plans)

I’ve always been a bit worried when it comes to commitment. I don’t mean like committing to a partner or anything – (oh hey T, you’re reading this? Love you xoxo) – I mean like entering into a 24 month phone plan because you accidentally dropped (smashed) your precious (shit) phone (brick) and you needed a new one.

I feel like I’ve never had enough money to really commit to massive 24 month things that solely rely on my ability not to lose or break something. It’s kinda scary when the salesperson gives you a pen (I mean it’s electronic but it still counts) and makes you sign your life away to something that you probably don’t even understand, let alone want.

And lets be honest, I’m always afraid that once I sign up, something 100% better will come along like 2 and a half months later (seriously T I promise we all good xo)

It’s weird how I am not worried about commiting to relationships but I am about jumping into realitively lower risk things. I’ve come to realize that for me,  it is having to sign – if I had to sign something when I started a relationship with T and it had all these terms and conditions I would be pretty hesitant (and probably thinking I was walking into 50 Shades of Grey thing and no one needs that)… unless it had something about daily, 20 minute foot massages. You ain’t never seen me pick up a pen so fast (Hi T, it’s crazy you’re still here and you are reading all this information about me that’s so interest… wait, you want to give me a foot massage later? Oh babe, you just know me.)

More dribble on a Wednesday

Over the years, I’ve come to really understand why having family is so important. Having people that are forced to love you has been quite a handy thing for me but also is pretty comforting. Being able to be 100% you and doing dumb things that come up at Christmas lunch, going to Grandmas house and raiding her pantry while she makes you a cuppa, and just being able to walk up and hug someone just ’cause are honestly some of the most quietly beautiful things we have in this world.

Not many of my readers (and by readers I mean spam robots) (but if you are a real, genuine human being than OH HI BABE HOW ARE YOU!? how has life been omg I know everything is happening! Crazyyyy) will know that I have had a pretty turbulent time when it comes to some aspects of my family.

It has always been a difficult concept for me to understand that odd situations in my life can’t just fit into a neat little box. This, of course, makes me want to fit it in more. And like when you’ve ordered too much McDonald’s, trying to fit it in your stomach even though it just ain’t sitting right usually just makes you miserable and kinda shitty.

I’ve realised over the past 12 months that I’ve put so much time and effort into trying to fit all my problems into a semi-controlled pile of stuff that I’m not really noticing what I’m trying to put in there. Trust me a lot of it is unhealthy and unnecessary, and like my ratty old shirt from 5 years ago – it should have been thrown all out.

But like with the last 2 chicken nuggets from a 12 pack – you keep on keepin’ on. Right?!*

*Except don’t smother your problems in sweet and sour sauce. Or do, I’m not one to judge. Let me know if it works.

Welcome to Anxioustown: population – wait what me?!? omg seriously what do I do!#$#$@>?!

Being an anxious person is never ideal. You’re always thinking about the worst possible outcome, about how that person is going to get in their car and be attacked by THE SERIAL KILLER THAT WAS RELEASED FROM JAIL YESTERDAY and then they are going to be in hospital and how you are going to have to tell their family, and how you are going to cry on their deathbed feeling helpless because you knew this was gonna happen but you didn’t stop it!!!!!!
Or something like that.

I feel like a lot of people misunderstand and think you are just a total idiot for going to the extreme end of the ‘Things that can go wrong’ spectrum. It is not a crazy thing – for me, it is a preparation thing.
I feel that with situations where I have no control, and dangerous situations mind you, it is a defensive mechanism so, in the absolutely insane chance that it actually happened, I could protect myself. Like arming myself with just my little ol’ thoughts.

When you are with someone that is the complete opposite of anxious, it can make things extremely difficult. It looks like you are trying to start something, or make a big deal out of nothing – but it really is something unavoidable. Things that may seem pretty average in risk automatically is turned into a situation of amazingly serious and dangerous proportions.
My thoughts take me hostage and bombard my mind – it’s like 10 Things I Hate About You where all these people turned up for an insane house party at Bogey Lowenstein’s (Bogey = me) that he didn’t know was happening. They rush in the door, smash things in the process, making your pleas for them to leave basically pointless. You stand there absolutely helpless, all the while you have no idea how to handle any of it.
You give up, try to pretend like it is all good and end up making yourself sick with worry until the situation is over.

Or at least, until the next situation begins. (Oh and honey you can bet your sweet life on it).

 

Spoiler: it wasn’t just Nigel with the brie.

 

3 words to describe yourself in 2015: eighteen, naive, moving

Back in 2015, making the decision to move away didn’t seem like a really big deal. I knew what it meant, but at the end of the day, it didn’t seem like a crazy idea. People moved away all the time and like someone once told me, ‘Just because I’m moving away doesn’t mean things have to change.” Stupidly, like then, I believed them.

The first day of moving to the Gong was uneventful. I packed up my car, got all my shit sorted, said ‘Smell ya later’ to my Mum and step-dad (they were gonna meet me down there with some of the bulky stuff), made sure I had 1 billion red p plates on my car and set off for the about 4 hour journey to my new home.
Arriving at I-House was nerve racking, but nothing too dramatic. Signed in, got a tour, started setting up my room. My family was already there, we had dinner together, I slept for the first night in my own little bare abode.

Before Mum left, she helped me decorate my new room. She hung up the How I Met Your Mother poster while I posted some photos of some friendly faces from back home. I added some lantern lights, my Mr Bean bobble-head, my figure of Zurg. During all this, I don’t think it was until I was facing saying bye to my mum, my step-dad, my sisters and my grandma that I really realised what was going on. They would continue on with their lives, one down, and I would start my brand spankin’ new one.

My real first night I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t know anyone, they didn’t know me. I didn’t know how to get from A to B, I was completely lost, completely doubting what I had moved for. Some friends from back home messaged me asking how it was going, and of course, I lied – I sent “OMG everything is fab!!! This is amazing!!! Hanging out with a couple of new friends!” from beneath the safety of my snug new doona Mum bought me.

One night, during O-Week festivities, we had this ice-breaking event. I thought it was kinda silly and stupid but I knew I had to force myself out of my room to actually see real. human. people. And against all odds, it was a pretty good icebreaker. I met some amazing people straight up, went out to a local dive later that night and realised we had way more in common than I thought possible.

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. How many times do you hear of a musician saying they were thhhiiiissss close to not going to a gig or an open-mic night and a talent scout happened to be there and they finally got discovered? And at the end of the day, how many times do you really want to say ‘That could have happened to me but I didn’t go?’ NADA.
That was exactly how I felt about moving. I was a bit naive, let’s be honest, but I knew that if I didn’t take the opportunity I would be forever cursing myself.

And in all honesty, it has been the best and worst 2 and a bit years of my life. I’ve struggled with being myself and being vulnerable. I’ve struggled with having to form brand new friendships all over again and rebuild trust I really never had to question when I was back home.

But I wouldn’t have met some of the most fabulous, daring, laid-back, hilarious and down-to-earth people. None of the memories I cherish would even be in my imagination, in my headspace. I wouldn’t be living with 4 of the loveliest gals and I would not have crossed paths with my gorgeous T.

So this is to you, my new loves.
For completely going above and beyond my hopes and expectations.
You all know who you are.

TNSAKCBIDBJ just to name a few. xxx

Negative Nancy

“I would apply for the internship, but I won’t get it.”

“If I put my hand up, it’s not going to be the right answer.”

“Everyone else knows what to do but me.”


Being negative about yourself and your decisions is one of the easiest things to do, but the most detrimental.  Why is it so easy to downgrade your accomplishments and ignore how far you’ve come? Why is it so hard to admit that you handled that situation well, or you look good today, or that you worked so hard and you deserve that 1st place ribbon?

I have always jumped straight to the negative ending, the worst scenario imaginable that if something does go my way I’m often taken aback. I never prepared myself for the good stuff. I rarely give myself the credit I deserve.

I think a lot of it is that it might be coming across cocky if you admit that you got this. Some people do that, for sure – but I’ve realised there is a difference between being excited because you have accomplished so much and rubbing it in someone’s face that you have accomplished more than them. It is all about assessing and balancing.

It is so easy to be negative, but you never get the rewards you need. If you say you aren’t going to get something, you probably won’t. In the end, you can blame it on the fact you didn’t try as hard because you knew you wouldn’t or that stuff like this never goes in your favour.

Right now, I’m trying to coach myself to go to the positives first instead of the negatives. I might fail, but then again why would I? I must have thought I had the talent, or the smarts, or the initiative or at least something to even consider it an option in the first place. Why should I let someone beat me? Why would they? Instead of worrying about what everyone else is doing, or getting, or wanting I found the need to refocus. What am I doing? What am I getting out of it? What am I wanting from it?

I’ve come so far but I’ve got so far to go.

I’ve got so far to go BUT. HOLY. SHITE. I have come so bloody far.

Hometown Glory

Before I start, a big thanks to Adele for the top notch blog post title. I owe ya.


My hometown is kind of snuggled up in the middle of nowhere – but I guess everyone’s usually is. I’m  the first one to bag it out or make fun of how many bogans live there or that one weird lady you always see stealing cutlery in Kmart; but for the first time this year, I think I am truly starting to miss it.

Not the town at least, although I do miss driving around the streets knowing every shortcut, every good dress place and the best takeaway shop huddled in a side street smack bang in the middle of suburbia. Or going into your local Maccas(s) and knowing basically everyone working there.

I miss the people. I do miss most of the gang from high school, doing zero work (or maybe that was just me) and having the best time. Although once you move away, you quickly realise 1. who your gang really is; 2. whether you are going to put in any effort either; 3. even the ones living in the same town drift apart from each other too and 4. leaving high school is probably the best decision I never really made.

It is crazy to start again at the ripe ol’ age of 18. It probably is the best age to do it, and uni is probably the best reason and the best opportunity – but going from having most of your life ‘figured out’ in high school to realising that was not the case at all midway through first year is a crazy concept to get your head around.

You always drift away from the people you didn’t mean to, and sometimes you can even come closer to those you didn’t really know before. It is never the same in any year group but it always happens the same way and yet you can’t help but be shocked about it happening – although you always have that one person that you see graduation night, and then never see them or really hear from again.
And when you ask people about them, they say “Shit. I feel horrible. I forgot they even existed. Would you like some lemonade with that cup of goon?”.

 

 

Mid-week thoughts and dibble-dabbles

I often find it difficult to explain the thoughts that are going on in my mind. They are constantly swirling about and it is often like trying to decipher a language you have barely heard – it is mostly gibberish with random words occasionally popping up that make sense.

It makes it so much harder when I am having a bad time mentally and people are trying to ask me what is wrong. How can I explain it? How can I work it out if I can’t even understand it? It is so much worse trying to sit there figuring it out, watching someone get more and more frustrated, and getting absolutely nowhere.

Often, when this happens, my mind totally shuts down. Like absolutely no thoughts at all, just blank. This just makes things 100% worse – I am frantically searching my brain for anything, any help. It is like it just gives up and then eventually I do too because what else can I do? It is like trying to stare and focus in a pitch black room. It is basically impossible.

I would definitely prefer a room with a crazy amount of Simpsons memorabilia and a delicious chicken parmy in the middle of it. I can easily decipher that.

Thoughts? Chuck us a comment (or lightly throw it. I’m a bit uncoordinated).

 

Apparently, Netflix doesn’t count as employment – and I’m an example of why it shouldn’t

Hi guys, my name is Larissa and I’m addicted to chicken parmigiana.

Hi Larissa.

It’s been three days since my last parmy, and…

WAIT.

Wow, this is sooooo embarrassing. Wrong blog.

Isweartogodthisalwayshappens.


I’ve decided to write more personal blogs (again) and try to keep a regular schedule (and I mean it)(No seriously, like I really mean it) (Promise).
Last year, I was struggling hard with what I wanted out of life and how to spend my time. Contrary to popular belief, napping and watching Netflix all day every day is not a great lifestyle choice. It might work for some, and that’s cool – but it isn’t good for me and it definitely doesn’t work as a full-time job. Although I’m not gonna go on a whole “McDonalds-made-me-obese” tangent, Netflix and watching tv contributed significantly to my loss of motivation and all-round boredom with myself – but 100% my fault! (I still love you Netflix ♥)


This year has become a year of trying to come to terms with the problems that I have and also working so. fudging. hard. to be motivated and do the things that I love. I love writing, reading, eating chicken and being with my gorgeous boyfriend and absolutely-holy-shit-they’re-amazing friends so why the heck! am I denying myself of those things?

 

Okay fine, I haven’t stopped eating chicken. But you get my point.

Lately it has been all about finding that balance. For me it has been the holy grail of good mental health – you find a balance, where you work but play (or in my case, you play but work) and in the end you are gonna feel a lot better and a lot more accomplished. Getting there is one of the most challenging parts – but admitting that it had become a problem that I could no longer fix on my own has been beautifully bittersweet. Bitter because, yes, I have the problem to begin with but sweet because I’ve realised I don’t have to deal with just little ol’ me (plus the help of T-man and my beautifully supportive and very understanding friendos).

I’m gonna try and document how I’m going in everyday life in the hopes that it is really gonna help me chucking it into the big, black hole that is the internet. It is all about finding something that gets those feels out.

Because who doesn’t love feels?!?!?

(But seriously, if you are definitely not loving those feels, that’s okay. You are a strong, lovely, chicken loving individual who deserves to be happy. Cut yourself some slack and love yourself a little. You have a broken bone, you don’t leave it for 2 years until it has become a significant, life-altering and debilitating issue. You go to the doctors, a hospital, a physio and you. get. that. shit. fixed!)

 

This image is from The Urban List where they name 7 of Melbourne’s best parmy’s.
Check it, serious cravings here:
https://www.theurbanlist.com/melbourne/a-list/best-parmas-melbourne

 

Churchill? Churches and Hills? Reeaally original.

Okay, so i’m trying *really* hard to write consistently and niceish, but no guarantees right? I’m a busy [not busy] person [sloth] that is ALWAYS [never] doing study and is consistently filling my body with essential nutrients [McDonalds].

I’ve decided to re-boot this old boy, since he’s about 6 months old and can start to blow raspberries on his own without me having to coach him. He is growing up right before my eyes and to be honest, I don’t really think I’ve paid him the attention he deserved.

Churches and Hills (formerly Sluggish Yet Educated, which was formerly WHAT THE FRACK DO I CALL THIS STUPID BLOG THAT I HAVE TO MAKE FOR A SUBJECT OMFG I NEED A SCHNITZEL) is going to become a personal blog of sorts, where I write words that become sentences and hope that someone, somewhere could be reading it. It is still a work in progress, and I really do need to stop referring to chicken or McDonalds products in my work, but I hope that my quirkiness and absolutely horrid ability of spelling and shit/incorrect/itsjustsadnow use of commas will become something that you grow to love.

With, all, my, love.,

Larissa,,,, x

Welcome to the real world, Larissa. It’s nice to have you.

Milford Sound thuộc Công viên Quốc gia Fiorland, phía Tây Nam New Zealand

Thanks real world for the lovely introduction, but I’ll take it from here.

You sure, Loz?

Yeah babes, you go out and have a couple of drinks for me xox

________________________________________________________________

WHY do we make a life changing decision, one that seems absolutely perfect at the start, and then everything else left behind starts to crumble? Surely, a beautiful, self-respecting reader like yourself can relate… I’ll give you back story anyway, because this is a blog and I wouldn’t really lead you here if I had nothing more than a strange(?! like seriously Loz get your shit together) exchange with a heading and a random question.

ANYWAY

Last year, I had to make the big move from my hometown of Thatplaceinthemiddleofnowhere (never heard of it? All good, you’re really not missing out) to Gong-land. I honestly thought that most of my high school friends would stick with me – they would want to make the effort to catch up when I was home or even make a trip down here for the weekend.

I’m am MOST DEFINITELY not gonna act all innocent here, I haven’t exactly been home much nor would I rush home and try to catch up. We all stop being friends with some people from the group we had in high school – and we generally had a pretty good idea of who those people would be. But, like when you check your bank balance before you’re about to go out, you usually get a couple of surprises (and 9 times out of 10 it is not good).

I honestly never thought I would lose touch with a couple of people in particular – one friend I talked to all of last year and when I was back home in January, we had a total misunderstanding (mostly my fault) and ever since we have barely talked – we caught up for breakfast recently and she seemed fine, but after talking to others I got the impression that that was not really the case.

I’m a person who does not like confrontation (not many do), but it absolutely grinds my gears when people who clearly have a problem with you refuse to say things to your face. Of course, there’s a difference between being nice to someone you dislike just because you don’t want to start trouble and being nice to someone you dislike just to tell your besties so you can have a giggle the next day.

I really need this fixed. And omfg I would LOVE a chicken parmigiana right now but if you’re busy, I get it. We all have stuff to do.

Until next time,

Loz x