I had to write it down somewhere

So it happened, I have officially moved back to Sydney. My life as an army brat has come to a close and we are putting down roots in NSW. 

I would have preferred to put down roots in Brisbane, the land of sun 24/7 but at least Sydney isn’t as cold as Melbourne!

I lived in Sydney 3 or 4 years ago and although it wasn’t the happiest time in my life, it wasn’t the worst. My favourite place we have lived is Brisbane but Sydney has a lot going for it too! 

My sisters are here, Hooters is here, Madame Tussauds! 

Plus Winter fashion can be pretty fun too - it’s all about those layers! 

Since moving here I’ve bought 5 jumpers, 1 jacket, 1 pair of boots, and 12 pairs of fluffy bed socks. I forgot how much I enjoy internesting*. I’ve missed settling in with a sugary cup of tea and watching my favourite TV shows, snuggled up with my cat. 

I could do without the storms, blistering cold air, and constant hair frizz though!

For the 21st time in my life I am packing it up and moving. I am only 26 (I’m not 27 until November and even then I won't admit it until the clock strikes 8:03pm.)

1. Unit when I was a baby.

2. Vineyard in Mildura.

3. House in Echuca.

4. House in Mill Park.

5. 2-Storey House in Watsonia

6. Pink House in Heidelberg

7. Court in Watsonia

8. House in Diamond Hill

9. House in Macleod

10. House in Kingsbury

11. House in Bundoora

12. House #1 in Cash St

13. House #2 in Cash St

14. House #1 in Glenmore Park

15. House #2 in Glenmore Park

16. House in Briar Hill

17. House in Bundoora

18. House in Greensborough

19. House in Mooloolaba

20. Apartment in East Brisbane

21. Unit in Emu Plains.

You will notice that these residences have been across three states. I’m sure it won’t be the last time I’ve moved, it won’t even be the second last. 

I know people who have only ever lived in one house. How boring. 

I worked in a shoe store for three years, in that time I amassed a shoe collection that rivalled Imelda Marcos - or so my stepdad believes. At last count I owned nine pairs of thongs (flip flops for my American readers), seven pairs of jellies, six pairs of ankle boots, three pairs of knee high boots, and four pairs of Mary Janes. And that’s just a small example of the shoes I own. I also own several pairs of shoes that I’ve never actually worn, but they sure do look pretty! 

Which brings me to today’s topic. On the weekend I went looking for the perfect pair of cute black flats with ankle straps. I wanted them to be leather and comfortable as they were going to be my work shoes that I wore when I couldn’t be bothered wearing my cute heels. 

After an exhaustive search of no less than eight shoe stores I finally discovered a pair that I liked, that fit, and that didn’t cause me pain (yet). I was sold, and so the new shoes came home with me. I wore them around my house for a few hours, danced to some Hanson and declared them comfy. 

Fast forward to this morning as I came limping into work, blisters blooming on my heels, toes, and pretty much everywhere the shoes touched. Luckily I came prepared and quickly wrapped my feet with bandaids. But still, I should have known better, every pair of leather shoes must go through the painful wearing in process before they are truly comfortable. The leather needs time to soften and conform to my feet - like a stiff pair of jeans. 

i know all this and yet I still grumble and wince with every blister that appears on my feet. So why do I keep buying shoes? Why do I put myself through the pain? 

Yes, I am one of those people. I carry on full conversations with my cat. Before you call for a psych eval I am not under any delusions that my cat understands me or replies. I am just one of those crazy people who talks to their cat. 

For the record his name is Julian. He is an orange tabby and just like Garfield he too can eat for days and does not show affection. Unless you are alone, he will give you affection on his own terms and when he deigns it to be so. I am his slave, not his owner. And I accept this. I am officially a crazy cat person. The evidence is below:

1. When he wants food I explain to him that it is not dinner time yet, or that he will get sick. 

2. If he is sleeping on me and I need to move I apologise before doing so.

3. Occasionally I asked him how he is doing. 

4. I yell when he does something wrong, and call out greetings when I leave in the morning and return at night. 

5. I have no less than 10 nicknames I use for him including; Ginger Ninja, Juju Beans, Monkey, Julio, Gingy, and Jules.

6. I sleep in awkward positions rather than move him at bedtime.

7. My camera roll is 20% selfies/photos with friends and 80% photos of Julian.

8. I have had people comment on my Facebook that I have had too many status updates about my cat lately.

9. All of my friends know his name and several anecdotes.

10. If my cat doesn’t like someone or they don’t like him I will not date them. Unfortunately for me my cat hates everyone. 

But I do have two qualities which I hope means I’m not exactly totally crazy.

1. I only own 1 cat although I would like 2, but more than that. 

2. My cat does not have any Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or any other Social Media accounts.

Besides, my cat looks like the real life Puss-In-Boots, you’d be his slave too. 

I ran a poll recently in one of the many Facebook groups I belong to. I posed the following question:

Are Bert and Ernie a couple, or just good friends?

68% of people polled believe that Bert and Ernie are just good friends. 

Several people told me I was sick for suggesting muppets have a sexual orientation. I believe they do as evidenced by the horniest character in history - Miss Piggy. 

So why exactly did I ask this question? Because I think Bert and Ernie are a couple and would be the perfect couple to expose homosexuality to children. 

Sesame Street has taught children their ABCs, and counting, but it has also taught children about death. Why not about different families? That it’s not always a mummy and a daddy, sometimes it can be a daddy and a daddy, a mummy and a mummy or even just a mummy or a daddy. 

Bert and Ernie have been living together since Sesame Street debuted and share a bedroom, originally envisioned as best friends who are polar opposites. 

I miss the days of the theme song. These days the only show I can think of with a theme song is The Big Bang Theory. But back in the day, the theme song rained supreme, they were as popular as the show themselves. 

So without further ado I present you with the Top 10 TV Show Theme Songs* as voted by the Black Milk Film and Book Club. 

10. Cheers

9. Arthur

8. Full House

7. The Brady Bunch

8. The Nanny

7. The Golden Girls

6. Round the Twist

5. Sailor Moon

4. Captain Planet and the Planeteers

3. The Addams Family

2. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air

1. Friends

Remember all of these? Where would be without them? 

I wish I was a professional sleeper. I’ve always told people that I was in a committed relationship with sleep and would like to raise little naps with it. 

I’ve slept through Christmas twice, the first time I was 3 years old. 

I took 2 hour naps daily until I started school and strongly argue that if nap time was instituted at workplaces then productivity would definitely increase, 

Think about it. I would definitely work  until 6pm instead of 5pm if it meant I could grab a quick hour of sleep in the middle of the day. I’ve been known to nap in my car during my lunch break anyway. 

Sleep is good, it helps you heal, it gives you dreams, and if you’re really lucky, sometimes you will hit that deep slumber phase that makes you drool when you wake up. That’s the best.

I’m a big believer in sleep. I can sleep 18 hours easily. I’ve slept on planes, in bars, under tables in restaurants, in class, under my desk at work, at the beach, I’ve even fallen asleep in the cinema and at concerts. I love sleeping, and am proud of my ability to catch a few extra Z’s where I can. 

So that brings me to my big question. How can I be paid for my freakish ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere? 

I could be an art installation. I also talk in my sleep, snore, kick, and hog the blankets. 

Would people pay to watch me sleep? I’m sure there are some people out there with that very specific fetish. I’m sure they’d even get a kick out of my collection of Disney PJs. 

‘Tis the season to avoid the internet. Many shows have or are about to air their season finales leading invested viewers to publicly beg their friends to not spoil the show on social media. Here in Australia we don’t get the shows for a while (legally) and regularly have the finales spoiled. The year that Marisa died on The OC, it was so widely known even Network 10 aired promos that said ‘See how Marisa dies.’ 

I think this needs to stop. We shouldn’t have to avoid the internet just so we can be surprised, shocked, disappointed (looking at you Dexter), or whatever else emotion we feel watching our shows. 

I’m calling for a filter to be created. A filter that allows you to block websites, Twitter statuses, Facebook updates, pretty much everything that you want blocked. You enter a whole heap of key words and your internet browser blocks anything that has those particular words. 

No more spoilers, people can still surf the web without the fear of finding out who A is before they can watch the episode themselves. 

I like stuff. I love shopping, I love knick knacks, I love kinder surprise toys. I ate far too many to admit in order to complete my collection of smurfs and Disney princesses. I own well over 50 pairs of shoes, 2000+ DVDs, 100+ books, a dozen boardgames, and enough clothes to have partially collapsed my closet from the weight. 

When I go on holiday I miss my bed, but I also miss my stuff. All the weird little things I have collected throughout my life. I have tiaras, snow globes, Wizard of Oz memorabilia, photos, handbags, and more assorted stuff. I keep things with sentimental value and things that just make me laugh. 

My mum calls me a hoarder, I think i’m just materialistic. I like my stuff. I don’t have 4 years worth of newspapers under my bed; I have the collected works of several chic lit authors, my DVD movie collection in alphabetised boxes, and probably a mountain of cat hair based on how often I find my ginger ninja napping there. 

Life is and will always be unfair. There will always be someone who is funnier than you, smarter than you, prettier than you, richer than you, and all around better than you in someway. 

As a female this is made abundantly clear to me several times a day. Today I experience the monthly annoyance that is having to go to a supermarket to buy tampons. I bought my regular 16 pack for $6. That will last me approximately 4 days, less if I’m having a particular heavy few days. I am not embarrassed to buy tampons but apparently other people are embarrassed for me based on the way they blush when they see the packet in my hands. I’m basically walking around with a giant neon sign flashing over my head that says BEWARE GIRL ON HER PERIOD, SHE IS CURRENTLY BLEEDING FROM HER VAGINA.

Going to an all-girls school made me very blasé about periods. We all get them, we all had to check a friend’s skirt at the end of class to see if she had bleed through the cheap uniform material. We all had a stash of tampons, pads and a spare pair of underwear in our lockers in case it came early. Periods to me where just another week that made me even bitchier than usual. 

I found it became an easy way to make sure my male friends didn’t touch stuff. ‘Hey! What’s this?’

‘My tampons.’ (Male drops black purse as though it was on fire).

They’re not contagious. You’re not going to start bleeding from your penis just because you touched my tampon. For seven days in a row I will bleed, feel bloated, have migraines, excruciatingly painful cramps, crave chocolate and cry at stupid things. I will also have to wear my ugliest underwear in case of gross leakage and worry about the odour. 

Today I awoke to grim news. 2 of my favourite shows are on the dreaded bubble of renewal. 

On the bubble is showbiz talk for may not be renewed for another season. This year has already seen the end of several of my favourites including Parenthood, Parks and Recreation, and The Newsroom. 

On the bubble are 2 shows that are both in their third season and I believe to be worthy of another season each;

Nashville and The Mindy Project.

Both shows are in prime story telling arcs and cannot afford to be shafted. 

SPOILER ALERT

Mindy is pregnant, unwed and about to move in with her boyfriend Danny. How can the Powers That Be deprive of the certain hilarity that will be Mindy trying to emulate Kim Kardashian as her mothering idol?

Nashville’s Deacon is currently battling liver cancer and has just been reunited with Rayna - something fans have been waiting 2 and a half seasons for. I’m just waiting for the inevitable episode where the only person who is a liver match for a transplant is Luke and the awkwardness that will ensue. 

Too many shows have been shafted leaving viewers with unanswered cliffhangers - cough Firefly cough Secret Circle cough Tomorrow People cough Sarah Connor Chronicles cough American Dreams cough Kyle XY cough Dark Angel cough Angel. Not that I’m bitter. Much. 

I’ve decided to pack up the pity party, throw away the misery and actually do something about my lacklustre life. You are looking at a girl on a mission. 

Introducing Holly Elizabeth Copywriting Services; your one-stop shop for all things copywriting, proofreading, social media and content management. 

Need an essay proofread? Right here. 

Can’t figure out how to set up social media for your business? I’ve got you covered. 

Words are failing you when it comes to writing about the latest property you need to market? I’ve got plenty! 

The website is currently under construction and my beautiful business cards are in the process of being created. 

In the mean time I am focussing on drumming up business and collecting testimonials from the people I have already helped. 

Sure there were a few cringeworthy boys I swooned over back in the day, the ones who faded into obscurity or became tabloid fodder (thanks a lot Peter Andre). But a majority of my childhood crushes grew up damn good. In chronological order the following boys were my sexual awakening. 

1. Elijah Wood 

From the moment I spied his baby blues in Flipper, I was hooked. I had his poster from Smash Hits magazine in pride position above my bed. Fast forward 19 years and Elijah Wood is now a respected actor and adorable idol. Phew.

2. Joshua Jackson

This long-standing crush began with The Mighty Ducks, continued through Dawson’s Creek and was solidified with Fringe. The real boy next door, Joshua Jackson represented the  charming, quick witted friend who could become so much more. TEAM PACEY FTW!

3. David Boreanaz

From the moment Buffy knocked him on his ass I was an Angel lover. My first crush without the requisite baby blues, David Boreanaz was dark and broody and just so gorgeous! I’ve watched his TV shows, his crappy movies and everything else I can find. i’m still a Bangel fan and despise Spuffy. 

Growing up in Australia I guess I never noticed how often we swear. Of course there were the odd moments when someone would tell me I had a mouth on me that could make a sailor blush, or that I had dirtier jokes than an old man. Having an older brother, 16 uncles and a shitload of older male cousins really gave me a sick sense of humour. 

It was only when I inadvertently taught my younger cousin the word douchebag did I realise I was quite the potty mouth. My go-to expression was Fuck Off and I use the term shitload as a unit of measurement. 

The stereotype is true, Aussies are foulmouthed. It's not because we are dumb or have a limited vocabulary, mine is huge and I still prefer fuck off, piss off, get fucked etc over more polite terms. 

Whatever happened to predictability? I miss my family sitcoms, teen dramas and zany best friend comedy. Sure we still have some but we don't have a Full House, a Friends, a Dawson's Creek or a Will and Grace. 

As a baby of the eighties and a child of the nineties I grew up on a healthy diet of Family Matters, Full House, Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Friends, Dawson's Creek, Beverly Hill 90210 (Team Brenda) and even some sneaky Baywatch. 

I lived for Tuesday nights when I could watch Dawson's Creek and Charmed. By the time DC was in it's final season, network 10 had started showing it at midday. My beautiful mother allowed me to skip school just to watch the finale. SPOILER ALERT - JOEY CHOSE PACEY! WOO! 

I loved my Monday night sitcoms with Friends on at 7:30pm and then either Malcolm in the Middle or Jesse after. Fresh Prince was shown at 4:30 in the afternoon and repeats of Full House could be seen on channel 7. 

But lets not forget our 90s cartoons, when nickelodeon really shined;

Rugrats, Rocko's Modern Life, Hey Arnold, Ahh! Real Monsters, Captain Planet, Cat Dog, Ninja Turtles, Tale Spin, Duck Tales, Darkling Dark, Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain!

What about Clarissa Explains It All, The Secret World of Alex Mack, Are You Afraid of the Dark, Goosebumps, Ghostwriter, Ocean Girl and Round the Twist. 

You can always tell a nineties kid because they can't help finishing"

'In West Philadelphia born and raised....'