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

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'

Intensely distracted.

Hi you. It feels like forever since we last spoke.


I’ve been lost in a world of sex dungeons. Helicopter rides. Gorgeous rich men. Boat trips. Flash cars. Fancy dinners. I’ve been lost in a certain Mr. Grey (Wish it was the other way round). Fifty Shades of Grey. W.O.W. You’ve all heard about it, and women everywhere are reading it. In my opinion it is bloody good, for all the wrong reasons (But o0o0o so right!). It makes me look at elevators in a much different way now. And pool tables, pianos, showers, bath tubs and office desks. My chains and whips just don’t live up to my expectations anymore. Not to mention my sex slaves just don’t cut it, or whip it, or bite it or... I had to fire one the other day; he has two kids to feed. Poor bugger. The book also makes me want vanilla ice-cream (and I HATE vanilla ice-cream … Don’t look at me like that, I had sun stroke when I was 12 and Mum insisted I eat it. Haven’t touched the stuff since). Ladies… If you haven’t read it yet, I insist you do. You won’t be disappointed. That is until you put the book down and realise you’re now horny and alone. 


Sigh. 


Even right at this minute Fifty Shades is screaming at me. ‘Read me. Open me up and caress my insides. Read it, read it till you’re finished.’ This love affair I’m having with a fictional character (F.I.C.T.I.O.N.A.L. Gosh that was hard for me to say!) isn’t healthy. So I’m putting it down and stepping away. It’s time to engage with real people… You’ll do :)


My mama came up to play in the big smoke with me and I’m pretty sure we consumed all of the cities wine, coffee and peppermint tea. We spent a lot of the weekend peeing. We caught up over lunch at Sale St (A funky little bar/restaurant I very much enjoy), lots of speaking, sipping, speaking, sipping, pausing to check out Colin Mathura-Jeffree, speaking, sipping. 


Caught up with family. Drank more wine. Then went on a movie date to see Snow White and Huntsman. I must admit I had higher hopes for that movie. I also highly suggest you don’t go to the movies tipsy. Auckland’s movie seats are WAY too comfy for that. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz z z z 


Saturday brought surprise facials, brunch, shopping, coffee and protests (Mum almost had to stop me from jumping in on the action. I have always wanted to be part of a protest. It’s on the bucket list. This just wasn’t my time. We did however sign the petition against selling NZ assets and walked away feeling rather proud of our little contribution). We checked into a hotel (and laughed as Mum reassured me this was not what it looked like in the pictures). The beds were small, but comfy enough. The shower’s water pressure was so hard that it hurt my nipples. The noisy elevator (There’s that word again. Mmmm) was right by our rooms and the TV didn’t really cooperate. But who needs a really flashy place when all you’re going to do is open wine, drink wine, whine about being all out of wine and then come home from town having had too much wine. Us Sloan girls like our wine. No! Really?...I think we hide it well.


My bestie and Mum’s fourth daughter joined us for the evening. We celebrated ten years of friendship (God knows how she did it?!!) with dinner at Orbit, Auckland’s own revolving restaurant on top of the Sky Tower. It was a real treat (Thanks Mama Sloan). We had the sweetest little smiley Asian waitress (I wanted to put her in my purse and take her home with me) and knowing the way to our hearts, we were all treated to complimentary bubbles. It was the most gorgeous crisp Auckland evening making the view to die for. I’m not sure if it was the wine or the fact that the whole restaurant was moving but I left feeling very wobbly. This was where the night got even better!


Now my mum isn’t one of those sit on the side, spectator, I’ll watch why you have all the fun, kind of mums. Oh no! She is right in there, right in the action. When you go out you always experience all different types of men. This particular night we experienced them ALL. There the guy who just LOVED talking about himself, the ‘I’m new to Auckland, show me a good time’ guy, there were the Samba dancing Brazilians, hilarious Indians, creepy Indians, groovy Islanders, grinding Islanders, men that love themselves even more than the first guy, men that couldn’t keep their clothes on (Literally! Mum attracted the ‘stripper’ guy and had him rubbing up against her. She RAN away from him, but he couldn’t quite understand that notion and turned it into a game of capture the cougar), there was the guy with the wandering hands (*shudder* It wouldn’t have been so bad, but I turned around to see who he was and he was SO dark I couldn’t see his face. All I saw was his creepy ass grin! RUN) and finally the guy with the massive black girlfriend that was NOT happy with me (What? I didn’t know he was taken). Mum danced with Auckland’s finest until 4 am. What.A.Trooper! Remind me to take myself into a corner and have a word to...well myself. Because there has got to be something wrong with me if my MOTHER gets hit on by more men than I do. Not even older men, men MY age. FML. I’ve got to hand it to her though…she is a MILF. 


When she left Auckland I had a sore jaw from all the chatter and laughter. Sore body from all of the crazy D-Floor moves. Sore head from all the wine. Not to mention an empty wallet. Well to be fair it was empty before she got here, but that is beside the point.


It was a truly great weekend. Love you Mum (Cuuuuuuute!)


I hear Fifty calling … ‘I’m coming!’ (I wish! Heh heh). You know they say ‘We are the reflection of our thoughts’, well if that’s true that I am one dirty, *%&#@*, kinky, so and so…


Where was I? 


Pg. 186


As I place my mouth on his, he grabs my hips, and before I know it, I am pinned beneath him, his legs forcing mine apart so that he’s cradled against my body between my legs. He’s kissing me, ravaging my mouth, our tongues entwined. His hands trails from my thigh, over my hip, along my belly to my breast, squeezing, kneading and pulling enticingly on my nipple….


I’ll let you ponder on that for a while. 




Love & Laughs


Bex

My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.

Heya, how are we? 


This week has made me want to put myself in the corner and think about my actions. Sigh. I’ve been off work and have made it my mission to not be killed by boredom, but in the process have found myself asking ‘Why is this my lifeeeeeeeee?’ and laughing at myself time and time again.


Heading over to Newmarket to go wedding dress shopping with my bestie was a perfect way to kick off the week. What wasn’t was getting lost…again. Somehow I ended up over in North Shore on my way to Newmarket, god knows how that happened? (Non-Aucklanders, they’re miles away from each other. Don’t ask!) I’m slowly learning my way around, but one problem in Auckland is once you take a wrong turn it takes a long time to find your way again. Stoopid one-way streets. Getting lost can be exciting and one of the best ways to work out your new surroundings, but when you’re getting lost at least once every time you leave the house it’s as fun as a poke in the eye. How much do you think a sense of direction costs these days? 


When I’m not getting lost, I’ve spent my days choreographing my Salsa solo, for a competition coming up in the beginning of August. There has been one part of my song that is driving me bonkers. I just can’t seem to get it. On Tuesday morning I got out of bed, wandered into the lounge, began watching TV and then had a creative burst that had me up dancing around my living room. I chucked on my music, thinking I was the only one home, and began dancing (still in my PJs might I add). I started getting really hot (my purple sweatshirt, one that mirrors the one I had when I was five, does not breathe at all) so thought I should probably go and put on some dance clothes. Oh and a bra, before I knock myself out with my nungas (Such a hilarious story behind that word! Another time…) I took off my sweatshirt mid lounge, threw it on the ground and began walking to my room topless, as you do. Little did I know Farn, the Chinese exchange student that NEVER comes out of his room, (Apparently since I’ve moved in he has become invisible) decided now is a good time to come out and walks right into my path. I paused. PAUSED?? What was I thinking? Poor boy. Taking my shaking hands I clasped my breasts firmly, ensuring there was no slippage of nipple…woaaaah sorry, been reading WAY too much of Fifty Shades of Grey lately. Where was I? Oh yeah, standing in the hallway topless in front of the innocent Chinese student. I covered me giant girls and bolted towards my bedroom. There were bouncing bosoms, twirling tits, jumping jugs…you get the point. BOOBS everywhere. It’s safe to say the poor Chinese kid was in shock, making lots of ‘uh, um oh’ noises as he quickly closed the door. I haven’t seen him since. 


Woops. 


After last weekend’s episode, I opted for a sober one this time round. Saturday night was spent watching an Auckland University contemporary dance show. Contemporary is a dance style that is so creatively strange that you sometimes have to remember to breathe. One piece featured dancers inside plastic bags. I was scared. Did their parents never tell them to never put their head inside plastic bags? Gosh! One of my longest and dearest friends was in the show and it was amazing to watch her do something she’s passionate about. I walked away feeling proud, out of my depth and a little traumatised. All in all a great show. 


This week proved to me ...


I cannot bake to save myself (I’m yet to give up though and have opted for baking lessons. Thanks AG. You have no idea what you’re in for). I will be domesticated, I will.


My car is on its last leg (Well wheels) and apparently talking to it at the garage only makes you look strange to bystanders. 


Also getting a FREE Brazilian from a trainee just is NOT worth it. Not when she gets the wax caught right on the sore spot. Ladies you know what I’m talking about. Rip, stuck. Rip, stuck. RIP, fucking stuckkkkk! ( I’m pretty sure she ripped half of my vagina off! Poor feefoo). 


Oh and one more thing, TED is such a hilarious movie. There is something about a teddy bear talking dirty that makes me laugh.out.loud. A must see for sure!


Mama Sloan arrives in Auckland next weekend for some fun in the big city. I’m very much looking forward to it. Dinner on the Viaduct, cocktails, grinding in the clubs (Ok, not really). I am going to be on my best behaviour… heh heh heh.




Love & Laughs


Bex

Wine. It's a love/hate relationship.

Let me just start by saying, I should feel worse than I do. The universe should have thrown a mighty hangover my way. I deserved it. Instead I woke up with a sore head, yes, but that was it. How am I ever going to learn if I’m not dealt a considerable punishment?!


Oh shit. Wait a minute.  My cellphone… Why on earth do I intend on chipping away at my dignity every time I drink? I certainly made it to the top of my shit list today. Messages that read, “I’ll make it worth your while” and “I want to get freaky with you” were among the tame ones sent to my conquest last night. Let’s just say THAT won’t be happening anytime soon. Sigh. Your phone should have a breathalyser attached to it… “Access denied. You are too intoxicated to use this mobile phone. This service is to stop you waking up tomorrow feeling like a twat waffle.” 


If you drink then text, you’re a bloody idiot. 


So ladies and gentlemen if I have one bit of advice for ya, think with your head and not your vagina-hide your god damn phone. Oh and also KFC is NEVER a good idea when you’re a little hung. Never. 


What IS a good idea is creating new friendships. I LOVE meeting new people. (They are yet to know the real me and I can pretend I’m a responsible, sophisticated woman. Obviously if I come into contact with a wine bottle this perception quickly vanishes). Since moving up here I have been able to make new friends, as well as catch up with old ones. Friends are so important. I feel very blessed to have such amazing people in my life. People that love me for me. People that understand me better than I understand myself sometimes. And people that will pull my pants up and pick me up off the toilet, drag me down the hall way and put me to bed, even after just having an argument with them. (Did I mention I love you?!) No matter how busy life gets it is so important to show appreciation to the ones you love. Or the ones that take time to read your Blog. Cheers big ears :)


I caught up with a friend in Takapuna last weekend. (I walked away from our coffee date with a sore jaw. 6 hours of chitter chatter. What are we like?!) What a cool place. Takapuna Beach Café. Right on the beach, Rangitoto Island in the background. Dogs everywhere. The whole beach riddled with them. Big dogs, small dogs, long dogs and a dog that was wearing orange mittens on its feet. I.kid.you.not! There is also something hilarious about three sausage dogs trying to frolic in the waves .No?... Just me?! 


Auckland can be an expensive adventure, but some of the most awesome places it has to offer are in fact free. I like bush walks. There is something about them that makes me feel alive. Becoming one with nature and all that. Just don’t try and be a wise guy and veer off the track for ‘fun’. Otherwise you end up lost in a foreign bush for 3 hours; with nothing but a MP3 player (There is only so much of my ‘Move your arse shawty’ playlist I can take). I now wish I had seen more episodes of Man VS Wild. I know he are drank his own urine, slept inside a sheep skin and put a funnel up his anus and poured salt water down the tube to rehydrate his body…all in the name of survival eh?. I had to find my way back to civilisation fast; as I wasn’t willing to do any of those things (There were only birds around me. No sheep. And I pee’d before I left the house). If I’m not going to let a male go near my arse, why on earth would I shove a funnel up there? Yikes.


This week I have a learnt a few things. 


According to the bank I am no longer a ‘Graduate’ but rather an ‘Adult’ now and therefore I have to start paying fees and interest. Lesson one: Listen to your mother when she tells you to NOT get a credit card (Don’t try and hide it from her, she always finds out).  


Lesson two: Avoid shopping malls. I do not have enough disposable income to keep up with my shopping habits. There is no justification for buying a new top every week. (Note to self: Must buy red top to go with new shoes)


And lastly, lesson three: Eating badly all day then finishing off the night with a vege juice to make yourself feel better is not the way to a Zumba body. Also going for a walk and thinking skinny thoughts the whole time doesn’t actually work. Who knew? 


I have to go clean my room now. I’ve been putting it off since April. 


Love & Laughs


Bex


P.S Seriously, no matter how much your vagina tries to convince your head, don’t do it. Hide.your.phone!

Salsa, Sex and Sporadic Weather

Oh hi. I’ve missed you. I hope your week has given you plenty to smile about. If not, suck it up! Kidding, this week will be better I promise. 


Life has suddenly become rather busy for me. I complain when I’m busy, I complain when I’m bored. (I only complain cos’ you listen). I DO love a crazy busy lifestyle though. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Fast paced is one of the reasons I moved up to Auckland. Another being Salsa. If you’re picturing tomato goodness on taco chips then please stop immediately. I’m talking va va voom. Arebaaaaaa! Shake your bon-bon? Shimmy shimmy?? Work it girl??? Anything? Well Salsa is a Latin dance style that I fell head over heels in love with 8 years ago. After a forced break from an injury, it has now sprung back into my life in full force, plastering a humongous smile on my face. 


Auckland’s salsa scene thrives and the one thing I love most about it is the array of people that step onto that floor and give it a crack. (As well as the talented teachers sharing their knowledge. Oh and the social nights. Aaaaand the opportunities to develop) Did I say one thing?... I can’t count. 


I had heard through the grape vine (See what I did there…dancers?...Oh forget it.) that Auckland’s salsa scene was rather pretentious, but to be honest I have found it to be full of character and anything but. My first Auckland salsa experience was at a Viva Latino salsa party. The first man to ask me for a dance was a rather solid, rather staunch looking Islander. I didn’t hesitate, but I couldn’t help but think he didn’t quite fit into the typical salsa crowd. He had me gliding around the floor in no time, weaving in between salsa couples. He was smooth. And he knew it. He was such a gentleman and the complete opposite of pretentious. I knew from then on that me and Auckland Salsa were going to get along just fine. 


Another thing I was told before moving up to Auckland was that this city experiences every season’s weather in one day. And blow me down it truly does. It’s like a hormonal teenager, smiling one minute, crying the next. I can’t keep up. It does keep things rather random, which I like. But it has also taught me to never leave my car window down; even just a fraction can result in having a wet arse for the one hour crawl home. Sigh. Just today I went for a walk, half of it being in gorgeous sunshine and blue skies, the other, dark clouds and pouring rain. The only upside was as the rain stopped a double rainbow (I can never say that without saying it in that stoopid voice from the TV commercials) was sprawled across the sky. Rainbows remind me of my childhood, so as I walked I drifted into memories of my little 8 year old self, going on hunting missions, determined to find that pot of gold... The rain had now soaked through my underwear, causing me to walk as though I’d been ravished a few too many times the night before. Any childhood memories quickly vanished and I focussed on getting me and my wet underwear (Stoppit! Mind.gutter.out) home for a warm shower. 


I know what you’re thinking. This Blog’s title mentions sex. Get to the sex! (I like the way you think) Unfortunately for you the sex is yet to happen. (Or at least sex that is worth writing about) I had a naughty dream about my cousin’s friend and now he just won’t leave me (Not literally, that would be kinda weird. Just in my head-still kinda weird…help!). I’ve tried shaking this and have had no such luck. It doesn’t help that he comes over to my house quite often and I have to stop myself from turning everything he says into a sexual innuendo, Me: ‘How are ya?’, Him: ‘Yeah, I’m good. (I bet you are) How about you?’ Me: ‘Could be better (Did I actually just say that?). Yeah nah good.’ (Jump my bones…I mean what?!). Settle down Sloan. Yikes. Usually I just try and avoid any form of communication.


Deep down I’m a hopeless romantic (Hopeless being the keyword here). I’m determined to prove chivalry is not dead. There has got to be men out there that have jumped straight out of The Notebook and into my lap, I mean life. I know I’m kidding myself, that stuff only happens in movies right? My reality is giving some guy I barely know a BJ on my friends couch and then passing out drunk with spring roll stuck to my face. Cringing? I did the same thing as I very quietly picked up my handbag and snuck out the front door in the morning. (Maybe some things in movies do exist in real life after all…)


Whether it’s unexpected rainbows, a big islander doing the shimmy-shake or a new sexual conquest, my life up here in the big smoke gives me plenty of reasons to laugh (and even more reasons to ask, WTF Bex?). It’s these random moments that make life one hell of a ride. Next stop…who knows? That’s part of the fun. I’m off to get my dream on *cheeky grin*


Love & Laughs


Bex