and don't let the door hit you on the way out!

dear 2005,

you're dumped.

you've been nothing but trouble since the moment i (drunkenly) laid eyes on you.

i'm going to the country tomorrow and i want you gone by the time i get back.

goodbye forever,

la nadine

twenty four seven

20 things you may or may not know about me that may or not be true:

1) i can eat more chilli in one sitting than most people can stomach in a year.

2) i have never been in love, nor has anyone ever been in love with me.

3) i got an email yesterday from someone named 'bob smith' that said simply "be me now". i'm kinda tempted to take him up on his offer.

4) i am a born again foodaholic. starvation is so last decade.

5) i really miss my mum.

6) i am still extremely close to most of my friends from high school.

7) i'm not wearing any underwear.

8) when i was a kid i wanted to be a roller-skating waitress when i grew up. or a lawyer/model/dancer/doctor/actor/businesswoman.

9) i can do shots from my boobs without using my hands. well i used to be able to. its been a while between drunken talent shows.

10) i wish upon a star almost every night. i'm yet to see any results.

11) i took this photo in hawaii last month:
















12) i once toured nsw as a go-go dancer with a theatre group.

13) i believe that dip is the 6th major food group.

14) dirty texting really turns me on.

15) every day i dream of being thinner/prettier/less superficial.

16) i speak spanish like a (five year old, semi-retarded) native.

17) i have never stolen anything.

18) i bruise easily. be gentle with me.

19) there is a VERY HOT removal guy in my house right now...

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20) i'm easily distracted.

not a trick question

what's worse than packing up your late parents' house and bickering with your sister over who gets to keep what?

realising that you're doing it on what would have been your parents' 30th wedding anniversary.

i will make it through this year if it kills me.

boys

can't live with 'em, can't kick 'em in the head when they won't do what i want.

i really have to get back in shape. i used to be able to high kick like a chorus girl.

twice the resistance of any normal holiday

being the culturally diverse, good time-loving wankers hipsters that my friends and i are, this weekend past we held our inaugural chrismukah party, hopefully the first of many to come.

for those of you not in "the know" (i.e. for those of you not hopelessly addicted to the o.c.), chrismukah is a celebration that combines christmas and chanukah into one big super holiday of festive goodness. it is the brainchild of seth cohen, the verbose piece of fictional hotness that makes the o.c. so very much worth watching.

seth cohen:



half-jew, half-gentile, all man.

held atop a fuck-me-dead-we-are-fucking-high-up-right-now rooftop in the heart of kings cross, our first chrismukah pary went smashingly indeed. i won't bore you with details, but let's just say no future chrismukah party will be complete without lolly bags, secret santas, rooftop jewish folk dancing, and at least one standing ovation-worthy nudie run.

it went so well in fact, that all in attendance have sworn not to rest until chrismukah is a nationally (even universally) recognised holiday.

and don't anyone be accusing me and mine of cultural exclusionism, because chrismukah is completely open to the public. all religions, ethnicities, cults, sports clubs, high-crime families, transnational corporations, etc are welcome to join in the chrismukah fun. just imagine, we could go from celebrating chrismukah, to chrismukahmadan, to chrismukahmadanmardigras, to chrismukahmadanmardigrasjonesfamilycaravantrip in just a few years.

fuck me! somebody get richard gere on the line, i think i've just discovered the secret to creating world peace.

yes indeed, chrismukah is going to heal the world, just you wait. for in the immortal words of seth cohen (patron saint of chrismukah):

"dip a toe in the chrismukah pool, there's room for everybody."

so, um, yeah.

happy chrismukah everyone.

peace out.







*regrets*

*a lot*

the baps are back in town

so i'm an orphan now.

strange feeling that.

i flirted with the idea of dying my hair orange and finding me a rich, old, bald millionaire to take me in and sing duets with me. but that would be unoriginal. and we can't have that, can we?

thank you to those of you who sent me lovely messages of support, whether through the comments here or by email. i truly appreciate your kindness.

this is the last time i plan to write my sob story here. after today i intend only to provide you all - if anyone is actually still visiting nadstown that is - with my inane opinions and tales of my less-than-exciting existence.

oh, and back to the boob talk i say. its been too long between bap-offs.

so anyway, every person deals with grief differently.

some people lock themselves away from the world and cry until their bodies are drained of tears.

others become so filled with rage that they cannot help but strike out at those closest to them.

many people are so shocked by the magnitude of their loss that they remain numb to the pain of it all for weeks, months, even years.

and some poor buggers - you may find this one hard to believe - experience such an intense sexual reawakening that they can barely walk straight let alone sleep at night. my psychologist tells me this is perfectly normal, explaining that this is my THE body's way of reaffirming its own mortality. i asked her on behalf of a friend, of course.

i have been through all of these phases in the last few years, grief having been my constant companion during this time. i have cried, shouted, medicated, repressed, and fucked my way through the hard times.

but this time i decided to try something different. this time i thought a little geographical escapism might help.

so i rallied my sister, her man, their baby, and my dear pal elo and we all went here:



and did a lot of this:














and had some of these:



and drank a few of these:



only time will tell whether it helped us to heal or not. but at least we got tans*.

*or in my case, at least i am now slightly less pale than i was before. stupid eastern european skin.

x