Groggy memory VS Raw reality

Hey hey hey, how are ya? 

I feel a lidddddle sick. I decided I wasn’t going to eat bread for a week. This isn’t really a huge challenge for me (Although I’m sure when you promise yourself you aren’t going to eat something, you crave it?! Damnit) as I don’t really eat much bread anyway. The reason I feel like I could do cheeky sneaky spew is because I bought some Nutella the other day. Now that I’m not eating bread there was only one thing to do… spoon + chocolate goodness = Chucky. I know I’m not the only one that does this, so stop shaking your head at me. 

Must.put.spoon.down.but.tastes.so.gooooood! Just one more…

So last week I took my love affair with the Sky Tower one step further. I took a leap of faith, all in the name of love. I jumped off the side of that bad boy. HELLS YEAH I DID! My younger sisters (who happened to share a womb) came up to Auckland for the weekend to celebrate turning the big two zero. The days leading up to their arrival I got message after message about things they wanted to get up to while they were here. Somehow it went from go carts and mini golf to nose piercings and jumping off the tallest building in New Zealand. We decided the Sky Tower it was. Being the older sister I fully acted like I had this, easy as, bring it on … deep down I was shitting my pants. I’m not THAT scared of heights, but the part where you have to ‘leap’ off a 192m platform into mid-air didn’t exactly scream sane. Luckily I had shoved a few cocktails down our throats before we made our way up the tower. We were feeling warm inside. Weeeee lets jump off a building!

The twins had told me I HAD to jump for their Birthday, so my arm was twisted (As was my arse in the harness). After I got word that my sister had touched down on the ground after her jump, I felt a mixture of relief that she was safe and a whole lot of ‘fuck, it’s my turn’. I acted cool, calm and collected on camera but once I was off the building the screaming began (I have been told I’m a screamer. wink wink nudge nudge.Yikes). I’m pretty sure all of Auckland was deafened. The jump only lasted eleven seconds, and it took about another ten for my breathing to return to normal. ‘Oh my god. That was amazing’ were my first words. And it truly was! I am DEFINITELY doing that again. Highly recommend doing the Sky Jump if you are ever up these ways. I.N.C.R.E.D.I.B.L.E. I think I may have to cheat on the Sky Tower and start flirting with a plane next…

With two feet on the ground, the three of us headed over to Mission Bay where we indulged in KiwiYo - delicious ice-cream that you can fill with everything and anything (My eyes were much bigger than my stomach). The Auckland sun was shining as we sat on the beach, filling ourselves up with icecream right before dinner time (I mean... no we didn't Mum), watching yachts sail past Rangitoto Island. T’was a beautiful afternoon. 

Friday night I was sober driver and after dancing at Carpark for an hour or so I was ready for bed. I’m not sure when I became old and every loud little drunk girl became incredibly annoying. There were a few I wanted to slap. Screaming. Falling over. Getting kicked out. Dancing all over everything and everyone. I cringed. That was until one of my besties reminded me of the night out I had the weekend before. The weekend I decided to drink Gin…by the bucket loads. GnT on a sunny day-YES. GnT after GnT after GnT, topped off with shots of Gin on a Saturday night-UH OH! The days following the Groggy Gin night my memory replayed the turn of events bit by bit. Little did I know what I ‘thought’ had happened was in fact false. I’ll stumble, trip over and walk you through it…

Groggy memory:
Having a few wines with the girls. Then a few Gins. Expecting to get on a good buzz, but wanting to enjoy my Sunday.
Raw reality:
Drinking games, skulling Gin. Shot after shot…apparently Whiskey was inhaled as well. (Don’t mix your drinks kids)

Groggy memory:
Looking good. Dancing in town with hot boy.
Raw reality:
Pashing a butt ugly Indian man. Using him like a pole and shimmying all over him. (Kill me now!) Apparently on returning for seconds, my friends jumped in and put a stop to that-thank god.

Groggy memory:
Next club. Enjoying the music and dancing with friends.
Raw reality:
Trying to mix music on the DJ turn tables, cutting off the song mid-way through his set. Then being asked to leave and arguing with the bouncer, claiming ‘I’m not even drunk’. After my friends blatantly saw me touch the DJ's equipment, I protested my innocence to them as well. (Sigh. Remind me to never become a Lawyer)

Groggy memory:
Lining up to go into the next club.
Raw reality:
Falling asleep standing up in the line. When it comes to my turn to show my I.D I am not allowed in. I again protest I was doing nothing wrong and claim to be sober once again. Making this the THIRD club to be kicked out of. 

Groggy memory:
The three of us leave a club with a boy, who claims to be a builder. We go back to his van and have shots of Tequila. 
Raw reality:
The three of us leave a club with a boy, who claims to be a builder. We got back to his van and have shots of Tequila. 

Oh! Well we aren't exactly saints.

My phone then died, I got lost (Apparently walked away from the group, talking some drunken rubbish) and text a few people I shouldn’t have (Sorrrrrrrrry!). I found my way back to the last club the three of us were at and somehow, sommmmmmehow??? ….I was the one who was angry. Gosh! Who bloody knows??. Lesson here is I am not drinking Gin like this again. Groggy Gin night will remain a lesson. Do NOT guzzle Gin. A lesson well and truly learnt. I got a hangover that I deserved and still felt ill the following Wednesday. Ugh.

All I can say is I'm glad I have friends who love me enough to put up with me when 'Boozy Bex' comes out to play. (Which isn't THAT often). I have lived in Auckland for 5 months now, but still have a huge amount to discover. Including Auckland City at night time. Getting lost in a huge concrete jungle, filled with drunk seedy animals...not my smartest move.

May be time to grow up (A little) ... Or just stick to wine. I'll go with the latter. Wine has never let me down, or let me fall down. OK that's a lie.

I would go to rehab, but my parents never raised a quitter...

Jumping off a building I have never felt more alive, and waking up with a Gin hangover I have never felt more like death. Sky Tower I'm keen to do again. Gin-never again (Again, most probably a lie).

I have to admit something to you - I have chocolate all over my fingers and mouth. I wish I had a more exciting story for this... sadly I don't. I just fully put my mouth into the jar of Nutella...I am guilty of a Nutella dive.

I should get up and go to the gym now, but I think I might have a Gin instead....let the night begin.


Kidddddding.



Love & Laughs

Bex
Newest member of AGG (Against Gin Gussling)


P.S Check out my Sky Jump. Caution: You might want to turn the volume down. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7k9_4fcKaD4&feature=youtu.be

My baking brings all the boys to the yard!

Hi :)

It has been a crazy few weeks. I kicked it off with learning how to bake. I thought it was vital that I learn. First reason: Because I like to be good at things. My last attempt took me 2 days to scrape off the oven tray (Apparently you’re meant to use baking paper and something called an oven timer). Second reason: To get me a husband. Men like baking. If I learn to bake delicious treats they will be like putty in my hands. My friends told me that that isn’t exactly how you get a husband. You know what I said to them? Shut up and eat a cookie. I’m practically a domestic goddess now. Perfectly iced cupcakes (Took me a while to master that skill, but I got there in the end. Well…kinda) and delicious chocolate chip cookies were my first creations. HELLO husband. I went to get mail out of the letterbox and had to shuffle through all of the men lining up at my door step. I live a tough life.

I have been dancing my arse off lately. I had a Salsa comp coming up and have been training almost every day. Making up Salsa moves comes very easy to me and choreographing a routine isn’t a brain drain. Hip-Hop on the other hand. Holy shit. Could I get any more uncoordinated? I used to dance Hip-Hop all the time and fully mastered the ‘Hip-Hop pout’. These days when I try to ‘pop, lock and drop’  I end up popping a knee out, my back locks up and if I drop, I end up flat on the floor and there is no way I’m getting back up again. 22 years old? Try 60. I’ll stick to salsa for the time being. 

To cure my aches and pains and work off those cupcakes I’ve been doing some Yoga. Just at home in the lounge, with the skinny lady on YouTube telling me to breathe (As if I’d forget?).  Downward Facing Dogs, Warrior poses and ab crunches take up about 45 minutes of my session. Then it’s time to get in touch with my inner hippie and attempt to meditate. THIS part is the hardest for me. How am I seriously meant to clear my head? Have you any idea the chaos that goes on inside this noggin’ of mine? Let me walk you through it…

I sit there, feet together, hands on my knees, listening to the peaceful voice telling me to relax. 


*Deep breath* 


“Release your body and fully relax. Clear your mind and focus solely on your breathing.”

Relaxing, relaxing, relaxing.


*Deep breath* 


“In and out”.

Clearing my mind. Mind.Clear.

“Relax. Get rid of everything. This is your time to revitalise both body and mind.”


*Deep breath*


Drifting…

Relaxing…

I’m kinda hungry. Man, I really need to go grocery shopping. Shhhh Bex. 


*Deep breath*


Is my mind clear? NO, ‘cos you’re thinking. Crap.

“Listen to the chimes and sounds of nature. Let them take you into another world. A world where you can fully….relaxxxxxx”

I wonder if those birds are fantails. I love fantails. They are such sweet birds. Do I still have my fan I got in China? It must be in my wardrobe. Man I need to clean my wardrobe. Or I just need to stop buying clothes. And make up. But that was a gooooood make-up sale. I was stocking up. So it’s OK. Although I was spending money I don’t have, on things I don’t need. Story of my life… 


*Deep breath*


“Deep breath in and our. Relax your shoulders”

I wonder when my period is due? My boobs are a little sore, maybe it’s coming soon. Although all the dancing and shaking could be doing that. I need to watch The Kardashians I taped. And Serial Killer Sunday. I love murder shows. Yay we won Gold at the Olympics. Great rowing race. I wonder how long... BEX! Clear your freakin’ mind. Shit. Soz.


*Deep breath*


I wonder what's in the fridge…

F.A.I.L!

Another activity I find extremely hard to relax whilst doing is flying. I wouldn't be alone on this one. I think just for my sanity I will from now on only fly Air New Zealand. Jet Star planes, although surprisingly on schedule this time around, are VERY loud. It seems as though every movement the wings make, or buttons the captain pushes is magnified and put through the speaker system. Not.A.Fan. I usually try to focus on other things going on, to distract me. I had two little kids in front of me and watching them meet each other for the first time and instantly become best friends was simply gorgeous. Passing their toys to each other and speaking toddler talk. So ca-uuute. Beside me on the plane, something equally as cute (But secretly I wanted to spew) was a foreign couple all loved up.Touching, giggling, playing with each other’s faces. Hands everywhere. I’m pretty sure they were engaging in foreplay, and were about to disembark to the bathroom and enter the Mile High Club (Like being involved in a protest, also on my bucket list). I kept finding myself staring. Creep. I had to get off this plane!

Random thought: Because I'm allergic to cats I might have to be the crazy budgie lady, or maybe own 13 turtles.

I'm pretty sure I owe you another one of these bad boys really soon. I'll get a tapping...I've just got back from the shaky city and have a few tales to tell. Until then...


Love & Laughs

Bex
'The Big Bosomed Baker'