Enough Is Enough

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I feel like I need to speak out on behalf of the women,  children and even men who are effected by Domestic violence.

Why?

Because in our country, it seems that more people are afraid of terrorists overseas than of their own neighbours.  (i mean neighbours figuratively).

Sadly this week we have now seen at least 4 casualties of Domestic Violence.  However, the media reported them without really focusing on the main issue here that 4 People within 5 days are dead at the hands of a loved one or relative….   :

Ice Addict Stabs Grandmother and Nephew in Front Yard“;
Young Mum A Victim of Road Rage” and “Woman Dead After McDonalds Shooting“.

Let me be clear….

Regardless of the location, catalyst or weapon, these incidents are all Domestic Violence related deaths.  Sure one murderer may have been addicted to drugs, sure another murderer may have been part of a ‘bikie’ gang… but it still stands that people are dead because they were victims of domestic violence.  Instead of putting a scene grabbing headline and eluding to another alternative for the deaths, how about we start labeling these deaths as they are – people being killed by people they once loved and cared for.  Lets make this a NATIONAL CONVERSATION instead of sweeping it under the rug.

So why does our society continue to ‘tip toe’ around this very real threat ? Is it because we don’t want to think anyone we love is capable of hurting, let alone, killing us? Does that mean that perhaps, it’s a reflection on Australian people?  That perhaps we aren’t as fun loving, laid back and ‘chilled’ as we seem?

It is so much easier for media and society to brand these deaths as related to something other than domestic violence.  That way we can tackle the ‘real problem’ – such as ICE and Bikie Laws….

What this is actually doing is making it harder for victims of domestic violence to speak up as we are ignoring the real issue here – Domestic Violence is capable of being committed by ANYONE at ANY TIME…

Just look at Australian of The Year – Rosie Batty, she was a very well educated woman, she had a successful career and lived on a beautiful acreage in Victoria.  She wasn’t part of the slums or involved with some bikie or ice addict.  Two days after her son was murdered by his father, she bravely spoke out to the media and said:

“I want to tell everybody, that family violence happens to everybody. No matter how nice your house is, how intelligent you are. It can happen to anyone, and everyone.” (source)

I don’t want to man bash here, and I think that moving forward there will be a strong focus on men being evil and capable of killing their partners/exes. Let me make it clear that we need to discuss Domestic Violence from every possible angle and not just focus on men, but women too who are capable and are guilty of domestic violence.

My father, my brothers, my sister and myself are victims of domestic violence.  Yes, you read that right, my FATHER is a victim of domestic violence.  I cannot even begin to explain the amount of times we all ended up hurt, scarred and broken after my mothers various ‘moments’ of insane bursts of anger and violence.  You know the worst part was, I tried several times to explain to adults … police officers, teachers, neighbours and even doctors, that my mother was the one causing all this pain and hurt.  I was treated like a silly little child, and nothing was ever investigated further.  I began to feel hopeless and absolutely helpless and almost resigned myself to the fact that my mother would either kill me or one of my siblings before anyone paid any attention to what was happening.

To this day, people are still confused how my father (who is a big burly man at almost 6″) could have been violently attacked (I remember one time with a knife) by my petite 5″2′ mother, who weighs about 45kgs….

The truth is, while women are often overpowered by men physically, anyone is capable of causing violence and hurt and we need to acknowledge this to be able to start to turn our society around. Regardless of the relationship and front that people put forward, there often lies a dark background that sooner or later will come out.

My mother to this day, will not admit what happened to us as children and refuses to take responsibility for the years of mental trauma that follow from suffering from Domestic Violence.

The appalling truth in Australia is that in the last year, if you calculate all the deaths caused by domestic violence, it equates to more than one person a week.  The even sadder truth behind this statistic is that the number is likely much higher, however often these deaths are recorded as something else.  Sure they are recorded as ‘murder’ but it might not be acknowledged that that person was in fact murdered by someone who they knew and at one point loved and trusted.

The Government and Media seem to focus so strongly on outside terrorism and push towards creating such xenophobia and hatred for those who follow a different religion, wear different clothes and speak a different language.  I can’t help but feel like we are being brainwashed to believe that people who look like us, live in the same country as us and are even our mates, lovers and relatives, are not capable of committing the same amount of violence and hateful acts.

We are so focused on believing evil doesn’t exist in our own backyard, that it happens right before our eyes without us noticing or knowing how to handle it.

Let’s just look at the statistics: the amount of Australian’s to die from terrorism in the past year is 2 (Martin Place Sydney Seige) compared to the amount of Australian women to die from Domestic Violence which is 65 by Sept 10th 2015.

Moreso, these statistics are just WOMEN – not children or men, and as I have experienced first hand, both children and men are very capable of being at the receiving end of domestic violence.

I understand how hard it is to come forward and reach out to someone to let them know you are suffering and need help.  However, as a society we need to be more willing to accept the victims of DV before they become another fatality.  Instead of sticking our heads in the sand and ignoring this issue, we need to put it at the forefront of our agenda.

Children need to grow up to learn that violence against anyone is not warranted or acceptable.  Men and Women need to be able to report Domestic Violence in a comfortable manner and be able to seek refuge or help if they need to – particularly in the case of emergency or fearing for their lives.  There also needs to be help available to those that commit Domestic Violence – some sort of rehabilitation or process to help them not commit violence again before they land themselves in jail for killing someone.

We need to talk, Australia, because before you know it, someone around you will become a victim of domestic violence and you won’t be educated on how to help or be prepared to have that difficult conversation to seek a resolution.

If you know of someone who is a victim, or you are a victim, you need to seek help and get out of this toxic relationship before you become a statistic.  I will ALWAYS have an open door and an open heart for anyone who needs help or assistance.  Please do not suffer in silence and hope it gets better, because my experience proved to me that it never does.

If you know of someone who is committing Domestic Violence, talk to them, seek help for them and make sure they are aware that what they are doing is far from right or socially acceptable. Let them know they are better than that; that violence cures nothing but destroys everything.  Worst case scenario, report them to the police – don’t let the person you know become a name in the news for killing someone they loved.

Together, little steps and truths can become a big change in our society and how we tackle this very real, devastating issue.  No one should have to live in fear in their very own homes.  No one should have to wake up wondering if they’ll make it through the day without a new bruise or scar being added to their body.  No one should have their life cut short because they trusted and loved someone with a violent temper and rage, and didn’t know how to leave safely…

I am grateful every day that my father had the strength to leave my mother and rescue us from her when she kidnapped us and took us 1000kms from home.  I didn’t understand what was happening at the time (I was only 10), and I was angry at my father for a long time too.  However, now that I am much older and understand how close I came to losing my life at the hands of my mother,  I am passionate that no child, woman or man should experience brutal violence from someone they love.

So please, if you are passionate too – speak up, let your voice be heard, let your friends and family know that you won’t tolerate domestic violence and that you will be there for any one of them if they suffer.

Together we might be able to save a life.

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The White Ribbon has a list of helpful numbers for men, women and children.  If you need help or just need to talk please contact myself or one of these numbers – http://www.whiteribbon.org.au/finding-help

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Interesting Articles to Read:

Domestic Violence Deserves The Same Attention as Terrorism

Women The Victims of Intimate Partner Terrorism

How I Know I’m Getting Old

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Yes, at the ripe old age of 24 … I have come to the realization that I am in fact … Old …

No I don’t shit my pants or have erection problems (I lie, I haven’t had sex in god knows how long so that in it self is an erection problem); but as I grow I am noticing things around me change.

My perception alone has changed a lot, but more than that my taste, my tolerance levels and my overall desires have incredibly and vastly changed since I was 18.

So here is my list of signs that you are inevitably getting older and uglier…

Me vs My Little Sister In Public

Me vs My Little Sister In Public

1) Clothing
I’ve been quite a sensible dresser for a few years, thanks to working in the corporate world, but I still find it funny when my little sister and I clash over opinion of clothing.  The other day we went shopping and while she wore a stunning outfit, had a beautiful face of makeup and was adorned in jewellery I wore a band shirt, some denim shorts and flats and hadn’t brushed my hair or applied makeup.

For her, going out shopping is a chance to make a statement about her style. But for me, it’s an unenjoyable chore. If I don’t have to put effort in, I won’t. I’d rather be comfortable, sans make up and in and out as quickly as possible.

I think looking at younger generations and not understanding their fashion is an age old sign of getting old – but man, does it ring trueDSC_3761-copy1! I honestly do not understand the need for girls to have shorts so small that their ass cheeks are hanging out and their vagina flaps are swaying in the wind… I was driving past a bunch of girls the other day and I couldn’t tell if they were going to a music festival or a strip club… I laughed when my baby sister said, “They look like skanky hoes…” (probably not appropriate language for a 7 year old but still hilarious)

In the words of Yves Saint Laurent, “fashions fade – style is eternal”; as you get older – this rings more true.

(2) I’m Gonna Pop Some Tags
My best friend sent me a message at how excited she was about her latest shop. I laughed because I cannot remember the last time I went on a shopping spree. She elaborated moments later by explaining how excited she was over how much she had saved and what am awesome sale Big W had on.

This is a sign you are getting old – you would rather SAVE money and only buy items on sale, instead of talking about how expensive and exclusive one item it is.

You get excited to go to KMart, Big W and Best and Less because really – who has the time or money to splurge at Myer? It’s like you have a lightbulb moment and you realise it’s all the same shit with different labels or brands on it – so why bother paying more for the same ?

On top of this, shopping for decor, gardening or home wares becomes much more exciting than anything else.

(3) Going to The Chapel.. and We’re Gonna Get… 
(i secretly hope you sung that song then in you’re head)
Obviously when everyone arMjAxMi1iNWEzMzAxNDYwYzI5Mzcxound you starts having babies and getting married you’re probably at that age that it’s expected.

However I think your mentality changes – instead of being jaded because how dare Lisa and Mike get married when Alfred and I have been dating for twice as long, you are actually just genuinely happy for your loved ones and friends.

The thought of being invited and participating in the most important day of someone’s life actually makes ycd972b419c81341112764cb52827ac2aou so incredibly happy inside and gives you little butterflies – not to mention all the free alcohol and hot random wedding sex.

Then comes the babies …

When one of my best friends had her baby, I felt this amazing sense of love for this little human that I barely knew – it was such a weird feeling and I still don’t understand it. But I think it’s because you love and admire this child’s parents so much that you cannot help but adore this bundle of human skin and poo…

(4) Bedtime is The Shit
I mean this. I actually get excited for bed from the moment I leave it.

It’s like a fluffy haven of warmth and love that will never let me down.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I stayed out clubbing or drinking past 12… I’d much rather have a good nights sleep and no hangover…. Thankkkk you very much!

(5) Wine and Cheese, Please
How amazing is wine and cheese ??
I remember being a kid and even the smell of wine made me want to vomit and Camembert was the equivalent of squashed maggot guts… Yeah … That’s how much I hated it.

Now I’m much older, the thought of opening a bottle of Cab Sauv on a Friday night or sitting down with some friends with a plate if Brie, Feta and Camembert is the ideal social setting.

(6) They Call Me The Ironchef
Ask me two years ago what I could cook, the answer would be 2 minute noodles. These days I’m literally the iron chef. I get so excited to make exciting new dishes and get my family’s reactions and thoughts on how to improve.  Seeing other people enjoy what I make, is so rewarding.

It’s like a whole new world of creation and exploration … And food is amazing – end of story.

(7) Sex? Meh
Casual Sex and the thought of it is just too tiring for me these days.

From someone who had a few … ermm… ‘friends with benefits’… scheduled in on different nights of the week, when I lived in Brisbane, the fact that casual sex just bores me these days would be pretty shocking td05afe45ed5dbdbfc8564d3802d845b9o a few people.

I love sex, I do. In fact I pride myself on how well I please my man, when I’m in a relationship.

But spending time and effort on someone I barely know – it actually irks me these days.

I used to like casual sex, but I realised I don’t like the aftermath. The awkward cuddles and kisses. I don’t want to kiss your mouth – I don’t even like you beyond your penis and what you do with it. I’d rather just get it done, have fun and leave. I don’t want to “snuggle” or talk and pretend there is anything more than a sexual connection between us.

Another light bulb moment you have as you get older is how amazing sex is with someone when there is a deep connection beyond just a physical attraction.  Casual sex can end up feeling so hollow and pointless – particularly if they don’t know what they’re doing or know what works for you.

I have decided It’s just too hard and complicated these days  to find the desire to have a one night stand… And really a vibrator does a better job than most males I have met.

(8) If You Can Learn To Do It, I Can Learn To Do It
I feel so inspired and excited to learn or try new things. I just built a veggie patch, started hockey again, I’m trying to learn a new language and I want to know how to use a circular saw…

Ask me to do any of these things as a teenager or as a young twenty something… I could not be bothered.

All of a sudden it’s like a new zest for life comes back. You realise how awesome Betterc5a914384dafcb9a5e20bebe3a912eb4 Homes and Gardens really is. Pinterest is your best friend. You begin to look for new hobbies or things to do, because “why not?” – maybe it’s also based on a fear that we’re getting older and should have more life skills to teach our children or show off to our friends…

Or perhaps it we have a realisation at some point, that these people who know how to sew, build, saw, canoe, cook, speak five different languages – all began somewhere.  They’re not ‘legends of myth’ but just real people who drink, eat, sleep and shit just the way we all do.

All I know is learning something new, building or creating something with your own bare hands or mind, is really liberating and invigorating.

(9) Club Can’t Even Handle Me Right Now
Like literally.. the club can’t handle me, because they fucking kick me out when I get ridiculously drunk by 11pm and cry to a bouncer about how I just got dumped and how no one will ever love me.

But seriously, I have reached a point where going out dancing, clubbing, crumping and twerking just does not do it for me.  On top of this, you have to play a dangerous game of ‘will I be a paedophile if I talk to/touch that cute boy over there’ because all of a sudden, everyone is younger than you!

I’ve also noticed everyone these days is just too cool for school.  They sit in a corner, get drunk, walk around in circles checking out the ‘scenery’ and wait until some hot guy/girl is drunk enough to have the courage to talk to them.

Meanwhile, I’m just doing my ‘T-Rex’ stalking behind guys…

(10) Date? No, I Prefer Sultanas.

One thing that is inevitable when you get older, is your tolerance levels change.. they rise for certain people and scenarios and extremely decrease in others.  Dating is one where I have found my tolerance levels have extremely decreased.

When I was much younger I was so excited at the prospect of being asked out on a date.  I spent days before hand figuring out what to wear, planning what i would say, training myself to not show him my cool ability of being able to ‘quack’ like a duck if the conversation got boring.. and try my best NOT to sleep with them on the first date.   There were hours and hours of effort I put in to these dates, even though 9/10 were absolute duds who couldn’t even afford to pay for my dinner.

85335c13771418909e2442bc5a513127These days, I cannot be bothered ‘hooking up’ or ‘dating’.  The whole idea or thought of letting someone in, putting in all that time and effort for little guaranteed satisfaction is just too wasteful for me to bother.

I like meeting new people, and I’ve been on a few dates since being single again.  But I find myself struggling to even care or to even make the effort.  I actually even asked one guy if I had to shower after my hockey game before having dinner with him…

My issue, that I’ve just uncovered thanks to a great conversation with my exes mother today, I’m too impatient to let a relationship take it’s natural course.

I am straight forward and don’t have time to waste wondering if someone likes me or not.  I don’t want to continuously go on ‘dates’ with someone for three months and wonder if we’re ready to be ‘facebook offical’ yet.  If you invite me over, I’m not going to hold my pee in and die of .. pee related diseases (it is possible, right?).  I’m not going to get up in the morning first, brush my teeth, apply makeup, brush my hair and lie back in bed like I just naturally wake up gorgeous.  If you’re going to be with someone in the long term, you’re going to see them in their rawest and unsexiest state. So I will be my honest and rawest self from the start so as to avoid any disappointment down the track.

The issue apparently with this is it leaves no mystery, if you give someone everything from the start – there is nothing more of you for them to discover.  There’s no want or desire for them to try and pry more out of you, when you lay it all flat on the table. It’s like buying a see through Kinder Surprise and not getting to even eat the chocolate… how effing boring!

The matter of the fact is, when you get older, part of you wants that eternal relationship.. but part of you also realises that when the time is right, it will happen.  Anything forced seems to end up in heartbreak and hurt, yet anything that happens on the whim, or spontaneous, is fun.  Meeting new people is great, but just because you date someone doesn’t mean you have to continue dating them.  You learn that it is ok to let people go and to just ‘be friends’ or to completely cut ties with people who have no purpose in your life.

It’s a bullshit fairytale we’re fed when we’re young that we are only ‘complete’ when we find our ‘true love’. If you’re waiting for that, I have bad news for you.  You’re the only person who can ‘complete’ yourself.  Figure out what is missing in your life, and go and freaking do it! Don’t say, “oh I want a tall dark man, who likes to swim with sharks and plays guitar”.  Most of the time what we want in other people is what we are lacking in ourselves.  So go out there and swim with sharks, learn how to play guitar and hell! even get a freaking sex change! (ok.. no seriously don’t do that, it’s too expensive… but hey onn the plus side you might win Eurovision?). 127978-8f18b89a-d955-11e3-917f-8bca2ad8cf46
(11) You Actually Understand How Important It Is to Love Yourself

It’s told to us a million times when we’re younger, but it only sinks in when we’re much older – LEARN TO LOVE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU LOVE ANYONE ELSE.

When I was much younger, I didn’t understand why anyone wanted to date me, sleep with437124b298501b8a10f07ae0aedf423d me or even talk to me.  So I thought that this person was amazing for wanting to do so, and didn’t know if anyone else would want to sleep with me and found myself in quite a bit of trouble and bad situations as well as a head full of regret.  I didn’t think what I had or who I was, was very special or important or worth holding on to…. I treated myself like a bargain bin lipstick.  I proceeded to be treated accordingly not only in personal relationships, but also at work – I let people treat me like I had no value so it didn’t matter if they bruised me, broke me or destroyed me.

If you don’t learn to love yourself as an adult you will let everyone walk all over you.  You’re going to give away your goods like they are $1 specials at Coles – and no one, NO ONE wants cheap, shit.  WE want a quality person to have fun with, not someone who feels so desperate and vulnerable they throw themselves at anyone who pays them attention.

 

In Conclusion… 

Getting old is not a burden or a curse.  It is a blessing and one that a lot of people never get to experience.

So embrace yourself, your lessons learned and your hardships because they are all making you a stronger, wiser, better you.

 

Go get em tiger xo

3d6bd6e9e86f12aca32574e6c6cce13d

Dear Santa

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Dear Santa
I know it’s been a while … 18 years or so, I’m sorry I have been having a deep love affair with reality and truth and unfortunately they are quite demanding and controlling.

Anyway I figure since most men in my life are mythical and fictionalized, I should at least acknowledge the first man who I loved and spoilt the shit out of me, even if it was all a lie.

For Christmas this year, I don’t want much. I mean, a Lamborghini Diablo would not go astray – but hey you’re not made of millions and last time I checked you didn’t employ mechanics or engineers.

Right … So what do I want … Well firstly I suppose I want my friends and family to be surrounded by loved ones and be happy. If you don’t provide this, alcohol will suffice though so no biggy.

Secondly, I’d like to be surrounded by loved ones… But that doesn’t really require much input from you considering I live with my big arse family and can’t really escape even if I wanted to.

I suppose materialistically I’d like to lose 5kgs or so. Yeah I know you’re not a PT and frankly could stand to lose a bit more than 5kgs yourself, but see this is where I need a bit of magic because I want to lose this weight specifically from my thighs – T H I G H S not B O O B S. Ok ?

I don’t really need materialistic things to be honest. I’m so fussy that even if you got me something I might want, it’d be the wrong shape, size or colour.  See the issue is that I work so hard to buy everything I want, the things I don’t need I don’t buy or are simply unattainable.

Knowledge would be useful if you could provide that. Knowledge on how not to be a dating retard, would go a long effing way right now… Is there a book out there called, “Calm Your Tits… And Move On” ? If so, that’d be great because I really struggle to understand when someone doesn’t like me and keep pestering them to the point that a restraining order is required.

Otherwise, maybe a cat ? I figure I should start my collection since it’s inevitable I’ll die with 50+ along with a non-existent love life.

Ok this is depressing – maybe that’s why people want material things? Screw it – give me a boob job, the Lamborghini, a new wardrobe of designer clothes and 120 new pairs of shoes … Oh and a new house to fit this all in.

Thanks Santa !

You’re the bomb!

Love

Bek

 

xmas wish

 

Damn Girl… Where’d You Get Dem Genes?

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[apologies i haven’t posted for a few days… I have been incredibly sick with Gastro… you know it makes me angry that I’ve had to sit through vomiting non stop the last three days, and I haven’t lost any weight… or gained abs of steel from the constant up/down that vomiting causes… that should be compensation for being sick and having to miss out on booty calls… but no… douche bag genes/dna don’t help me in any way]

As I was lying in bed this morning, thinking about how irresistibly sexy I am in the morning with my red wine and coffee breath, body odour and greasy hair, I recalled a conversation I had with a good friend a couple of years ago about genes.

We, quite vainly, were discussing how you look at some parents and try and figure out how their children got so hot, when they clearly had passed their heyday (if they had one).  Obviously genes sometimes skip a generation or some are fortunate enough to get the ‘good genes’ from their parents DNA.

Miranda Kerr certainly didn't inherit alot of physical traits from her father (standing next to her brother, left, father and mother on right)

Miranda Kerr certainly didn’t inherit alot of physical traits from her father
(standing next to her brother, left, father and mother on right)

I’m incredibly lucky to have been blessed with my fathers genes.  My pale, ghost-white, acne ridden skin, manly body odour, fat nose, short eyelashes, thick, coarse eyebrows and terrible breath are things that I just couldn’t be happier to have…. On top of this, I assume it will get better with age as my dad’s nose rivals that of any aboriginal Australian, his lips have shrunk to non-existence, his belly has grown (we always joke he is just pregnant) and his eyes are so squinted you could confuse him for an Asian.  Being the female re-incarnation of my dad is also great as my dad has ridiculously hairy nipples, which I assume I will soon get and will have to pay a shit load of money to either have IPL to get them laser removed or go through the painful process of plucking them out individually every few days….

See my dad is your typical anglo saxon mosquito who feels the need to infect the human race by bringing 6 children into this world, 4 of whom thoroughly inherited his wonderful genes.  But out of the my 6 siblings – I am the most like my father, I drew the fricken short straw.  My mother on the other hand, although she may be crazy with too many illnesses to list, was born in the Solomon Islands so has the most beautiful olive skin.  She’s not an ‘Islander’ as such, both her parents are anglo-saxon as well, but I have a theory that my Nanna had an affair because my mother is the only one in her whole family with this beautiful skin tone.

One of my little brothers was blessed with her genes.  He had a beautiful head of curly blonde hair when he was younger and dimples – he was basically the male version of Shirley Temple.

Pick the one who go the good genes (oh.. by the way that kid in the background isn’t trapped in a cage… she’s our next door neighbour who photobombed us)

Oh and don’t worry there’s more – he has a tan most girls would risk cancer to get, eyelashes that I would have to pay $120 a month to pretend were natural, and an amazing metabolism which allows him to drink up to 7 beers a night, eat fast food every day and doesn’t require him to work out more than once a week for him to maintain his abs of steel and lean physique.

And the real kicker is he doesn’t even know he’s attractive!! My friends, my little sisters friends and random girls are always gushing over how gorgeous he is – but he stays inside playing Dota 2 on his computer 6 nights of the week!

I’m sorry – but if I was naturally that good looking, I would be out sleazing my way through as many other good looking people as possible – or I would hit up Paul Walker or Gerard Butler for a marriage proposal…

Look - he's even dressed for our wedding!

Look – he’s even dressed for our wedding!

I don’t meant to get all Hitler now, but sometimes I dream of a world where only good looking people reproduce – a world where I wouldn’t have ended up with this shit set of genes.  A world where I wouldn’t have to resort to makeup, eyelash extensions, fake tans, eyebrow waxing and IPL just to look acceptable in public.  I mean… if everyone was phsyically attractive then people wouldn’t have to compete on looks and so people would be challenged to make themselves attractive via other means – like bettering their education or being a more charitable.

However, this world doesn’t exist, and instead of being pessimistic, woe-is-me (I was born on a Wednesday so actually I’m full of woe) I’ll try my best to see the light (not the actually sun light – my wonderful anglo saxon genes mean my skin burns within 2 minutes of being in the sun) in the situation.

Although I may not have been blessed with an amazing phsyical appearance … at least I have my genes to thank for my …. OCD, depression, anxiety, border line personality, low self esteem, lack of ability to finish anything i start… wide hips, shit metabolism, thick hair, short stature, hairy nipples… .

you know what…. screw it.. I’m done…

FUCK YOU DNA!!