Good jams, great times.

Kiaora. 

I hope you have had a fantastic week. One more day till you get to enjoy your weekend.

I haven’t spent a lot of time in the big smoke these past few weeks. Unfortunately I’m back on the unemployed bus, due to my radio contract ending and there being no work available. (I knew I should’ve popped out a few kiddies and been a stay at home mum. Kidding!!...Well technically not ‘kidding’ as I have no kids. Joking, ah there we go. ) Guts! However one of the positives of that is I got to go back home to Wanganui for a while and see the fam dam.  I feel like I’ve soaked up enough family time to last me until the jolly man jumps down the chimney.

While home I also finally got my tooth fixed. I was eating skittles at an Ed Sherean concert a while back (No, I’m not 12. Actually while I’m in one of these thought brackets… Ed is coming back to NZ next year. I really suggest checking him out. Amazingly talented ginger! These little thought brackets are kinda cool. I feel like I’m inside my own head. Sorry, back to it.) and chomped down to find one my crowns had fallen out. Just when I had adjusted to only eating on one side of my mouth, I got it fixed. Now I don’t know about you, but I find it very awkward at the dentist. Some people are scared it is going to hurt, others have these crazy-arse fears about visiting the ‘house of pain’… Me? I just don’t know where to goddam look when I’m lying in the chair, with my mouth wide open. Do I close my eyes? Look up at the ceiling? Make eye contact with the Dentist? (No, that’d be way too weird. My dentist does have beautiful blue eyes though….No Bex. Weird!) I just end up doing a half closed, half looking around motion that probably ends up making me look cross-eyed. What a dick. First world problems huh?!

Wangas is always full of character. We have one bar that goes off (Well...it goes) on Saturday nights. Stella. It is a place where you are guaranteed to know at least half of the people there. Takes the 'random' out of a 'random hook up' that's for sure. Now,one of the drunken Saturdays I was home I ran into someone at Stella that I have been talking to on Facebook. I love Facebook. I think it is a great tool for keeping in contact with friends, sharing photos, generating exposure for events...but by god is it killing face-to-face communication. Saturday night was a prime example of this. Great conversations online, lots of 'hahas', 'hehes' and all that jazz. Chuck this person into a social situation where they have a physical person in front of them and boom, dead chatter. The worst. I realise some people find it hard to keep a conversation flowing...Shit, sometimes that is an art form in itself. However this person made it 100 times worse. After we walked away from our awkward, *crickets*, patchy convo and the pub closed, I got a text saying "Come and see me. I want to see you". Ummmmm, are you kiddng? You were right.in.front.of.me and you couldn't string a sentence together, don't start with the cute texts now. People...if you are going to say one thing over FB or text then please follow through in real life situations. Great communication skills are sexy. And kind of essential. Awkward silence is not. OK rant over. Changing subject.

I’ve been digging, or re-digging (Pretend it’s a word!) Gold Digger, by Kayne West lately. I’ve been blasting it in my room while I’ve been cleaning or Facebook stalking. I’ve had to reach deep inside me and pull out my gangsta side (Which Auckland seems to be diluting might I add) and start grinding the air, pouting my lips and grooving like a corn-rowed, black chick about to eat some fried chicken . ‘Get down girl, go here get down…on your knees’… (No Kayne! I am not going to bow down to you, nor am I putting your penis anywhere near my mouth.That’s Kim K’s job and if you’ve seen her sex tape - Which I did for the first time a couple of weeks ago. DON’T.DO.IT! I can’t ever look at her the same. She seems to thoroughly enjoy it.) I’ve also rediscovered, whilst on a roadies with my best friends, the song ‘I like big butts’. We sang, or more so rapped our hearts out to the first verse and then realised that was all we knew… Don’t ya hate that?! But nevertheless, good jam!!

I love how music has the power to transform you back into your 15 year old self. A time when you were sipping on your white KGB (Not too fast as you only had 3 more to last you the night), sitting in the back of your best friend’s sister’s gangsta boyfriend’s  silver skyline. Windows down. Wanganui air in your hair. Your favourite girls in the seat next to you. Twister, rapping so fast it made your head spin. Puffing on a cigarette and trying really hard not to choke as you inhaled it (Shame!). Talking gangsta smack. Stopping at McDonalds for a feed. Looking in the mirror and realising that you are in fact a white girl… Oh. 

Holy shit balls I have big boobs. I look down, or cop a feel and have a random realisation every once and a while. It’s funny, I see them every day, yet I am always surprised with how big they actually are. Icarumba!

Speaking of my boobs. They’re the first place I lose weight and the first place I gain it. Being home I fell off the ‘healthy’ eating bandwagon and right back into a pile of takeaways and sugary goodness. That might be why my boobs are getting in the way of my vision. With the countdown to Summer on and the next big family get together creeping up faster than a stalker, I HAVE to get back on the wagon. So as of…TODAY, Operation MYA (Move Your Ass) has commenced (Again).Back on the wagon baby. Dieting, being the one thing I constantly fail at, I am looking at it as more of a lifestyle choice. Blah blah blah…I just want to get my rock-hard arse back and for my boobs to not smack me in the face every time I ‘attempt’ to exercise. 

I’m off to get a Zumba body! Or shimmy shake till my boobs are sore and I sweat so much it looks like I’ve just had a shower. Either way, it has to be good for me. Wish me luck.

MYA! Holla!


Love & Laughs

Bex