SO basically Gold 104.3 totally owe me.

'Love me do.' says Sofija.
'Yellow Submarine.' retorts Mama triumphantly.

I can remember my mum and my sister playing this game ever since I was little. Mum grew up with the Beatles and as a result my sister and I grew up with them too. Sofija went through a very dedicated stage of Beatledom when she was a teenager and I'm always left surprised and deeply impressed  when she wins the game, the aim of which is to know the most Beatles songs.

Never am I game enough to try and join in even though they urge me to, and every year I'm glad for my choice. I don't know how I'd ever live with the shame of shouting out 'I am a rock!' like I did when I was 12. My sister has been patiently pointing out the difference between The Beatles and Simon and Garfunkle to me since my early days but I don't think it will ever be clear in my mind.

When I heard on the radio today that if you were the 10th caller during The Beatles song - 'A Day In The Life' you could win a car I felt like I'd been preparing for this one moment my whole life. I listened to 7 songs go by angrily dismissing them as 'Bah, Blondie!' etc. until sweaty palms slipping off the steering wheel I realised that this was actually going to happen to me.

I was listening to the old person radio station and knew that of course I could get in to be the 10th person. I had the advantage of knowing how to use a phone at least didn't I? The problem I was struggling with was whether I'd call and make the mistake of being faster than the 10th caller.

The realisation that I pretty much was going to get a new car made me pull over so I could google the number for the radio station. When 3 songs later 'A Day In The Life' came on I was ready. I rang and got the busy signal enough times that when it finally started ringing I was convinced that I must have gotten through, that because I was caller number 10 it was allowing the dial tone to change.

'Hello, Gold 104.3 how can I help you?'

'Uhm, you just played The Beatles' I say, quickly, trying to contain my excitement.

'Yes...and how can I help you?' she says.

'Well, I was hoping I was caller number 10...' I say, voice quivering.

I held my breath expecting her to say something like...

'Why, you're right, I did play it didn't I? Luckily you called to point that out to me, you seem pretty smart. Hey, seeing as you're so smart and fast at dialling, would you know per chance what I could do with THIS BRAND NEW CAR???!!!!'

I'd then calmly say I did know what to do with it and that I'd gladly take it off her hands, a witty enough response that her producer would call me back after the segment and offer me a job during the 4-6 timeslot.

Instead she said ' Oh, you've called Admin. You want the competition line.'

'...' This is where I did my own version of The Sound of Silence (The Beatles, right?).

'...are you still there? Would you like the competition number?' She said kindly.

'It's too late.' I said. She was nice enough to just hang up and not try to comfort me, because obviously I was beyond consoling.

I've been replaying the scenario over in my head since this afternoon and I'm 100% sure that the time lapse between the start of the song and the woman answering the phone was the perfect amount of time for me to be caller number 10.

And well...JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING CAR ALREADY.

Life is pretty much not fair at all I think.

Love Nani x

Trying to be a better girlfriend, the binary system and mustard.

Fabian was sick with the flu last week and because I am a very loving girlfriend I created him the 4th meal I have ever prepared him. If you are shocked, you fall under the category of people who have never seen me in a kitchen.

Usually as soon as I step foot into a kitchen I start sweating and panicing and always manage to get mayonnaise in my eye which is actually amazing because I don't even eat mayonnaise so am never even sure what I'm meant to use it on (though I've decided it's probably not my eye).

As I carried the sausages, pickles and bread upstairs I balanced some mustard on the edge of the plate and triumphantly let out a 'Yes!' when I made it upstairs without dropping anything.

Fabian was in the midst of thanking me profusely, fair enough, when the entire lid of the mustard flew off getting stinky yellow condiment all over the couch and his dinner. Now because I have problems respecting food, belongings, and mustard, I laughed a lot while Fabian blamed me for not putting the lid on the mustard properly.

When I pointed out that I eat mustard once in a blue moon and it couldn't have been me he continued to demand that it was me because apparently I have a problem putting lids on things. This was news to me and I vehemently denied it and have been completely shocked when time and time again since the fateful mustard event he has been able to point out all the things on which I haven't put the lid on properly.

Apparently, half on isn't on.

'It's a binary system Natalija. 0 or 1. Off or on. You can't .5 the binary system. It doesn't work like that.'

Damn it. 

Fabian: 1, Natalija: 0.

Love,

Nani

Exams are over, or, Rabbits, Red Bull and Gonorrhrea

I walked out of my last exam for this semester in a mad rush, promptly got into my car, blasted the heater and ate a curly wurly.

I wish I could say I then drove off into the distance on this uncharacteristically sunny winter day and started my holidays off with some sort of climax, like I did at the end of last year where on the drive home Eye of the Tiger came on the radio and shook me out of my post-exam coma so briskly that I got a speeding ticket.

Unfortunatelly this time all I did was stare blankly at the wall of my uni eating my curly wurly trying to calculate in my head if I'd somehow accumulated enough marks to pass. Before I could figure it out I got distracted by the rabbits that had been stuck on the wall by some super trendy vandal.

          [I don't know why my University looks like a prison, but I appreciate the 'RABBIT!' tag]

I have to wait until 8pm to celebrate tonight though because my school is run by fascists and I have to be in clinic treating patients even though my exams are over and I am insanely sleep deprived. I am sitting here in the school library getting condescending stares from the Nat's (what we all call the Naturopaths) because I am drinking a Red Bull. If I wasn't so tired I would respond to their stares with a stare of my own which would say,

'Yes, I am drinking a Red Bull and yes, I know it's bad for me. Do you know what's worse? Sticking needles in people after I haven't slept in 4 days and causing a pneumothorax and killing someone. That's worse than Red Bull.'

Exam time always triggers a process through which I go that begins with completely neglecting my physical appearance - this usually happens while i'm motivated and am actually studying.

Then another trigger occurs that makes me drastically neglect my studies and pour my time into my appearance instead. This time it was glancing into a mirror and seeing my reflection - I was surprised to see a pale little mole with a hairy forehead staring at me with a bemused expression. The realisation that this was actually what I look like with a monobrow and with no make up on was a heavy one to accept.

I went home that day and when Fabian, helpful as he is, asked me if I wanted to revise my study notes before my exam the next day - I angrily replied 'NO - obviously I need to be mowing the eyebrow lawn that has taken over half my face.'

By the time I got to my exam my eyebrows were shapely and my nails were freshly manicured and I had managed to mutilate my genitals.

I won't expand on the above statement other than to say: there is something to be said about using really sharp craft scissors to groom your lady garden in the shower where you can't wear your glasses and thus cannot actually see -Yeah, don't do this unless you want to cut a slice off of your vagina.

The positive of this whole situation is that I can sit here (wincing slightly) listening to first year students make the online dictionary pronounce 'gonorrhea', 'anal' and 'chlamydia' and I can smile knowingly at them and I look very good whilst doing so... I will take this opportunity to clear up the fact that I am smiling knowingly because I too had made the dictionary say those words, not because I myself have experienced gonorrhea, chlamydia or anal.

Bring on the holidays,
Love Nani x

I woke up with Bieber-fever and it won't go away

A few days ago I woke with Bieber fever.

I have no idea how this happened, I was under the impression that I had been denied the boy-band-worship neurons that the girls I grew up around all seemed to possess in abundance. I remember whole heartedly lying through my teeth about how enthused I was as I learnt a dance to a Backstreet Boys song with my primary school best friend, Anna.

I'd always skip to song 11 because it was the only one I liked well enough to remember the words to and after a while it became abundantly obvious that I was really bad at dances. 'Let's make up a dance!' was a slogan that was frequently thrown around at my primary school and for the life of me I still have no idea why it was so popular. I remember my mother rolling her eyes and distractedly looking at something far to my left when I forced her one day to watch a dance I had choreographed myself.

When I confronted her about her lack of enthusiasm she said to me 'Natalija, it would be much more interesting if your dance was creative and didn't look like it was a mime for the deaf. You needn't spin around when the song says 'spinning around' and pointing at your eyes whenever someone says 'I' is unnecessary.'

I was crushed and decided that I would create a dance so spectacular that the popular girls at school would be jealous and my scornful mother would eat her words and applaud my choreographic creativity. I can't remember the song my fabulous dance was to be created around but it never eventuated. My appaling lack of any musical ability meant that I couldn't remember the routine despite me being the creator and the 'moves' being painfully simple didn't help either.

The highlight of the entire fiasco was when a girl I didn't like very much asked if she could join in and learn the dance. I told her no, because my mum was knitting us all matching costumes and she didn't have enough wool to make her a costume also.

MY MOTHER. KNITTING. Oh the hilarity, I was a child genius. It sustains me that in a parallel universe, 15 years ago a young Nani was tearing up the d-floor in a costume that is entirely crochet.

I also managed to survive the Hanson hysteria that took over school and I think this is because by that stage I'd ditched Anna as my best friend and had befriended (and fallen in love with) a friendly red-haired kid, Aaron.

Later it would break my heart when he started going out with a girl from grade 5, a hard truth he broke to me by writing in our joint diary that we kept at my house. Yes. A joint diary. Just another fact that made me a child-genius. For the love of god I wish I still had that diary. I would give up on this blog and on The Letter Drop and just publish the work of art that was my grade 6 journal.

So, despite my many years of being immune to boy-band love I woke up the other morning - quite suddenly and before I even opened my eyes I had the song Boyfriend stuck in my head and seared into the back of my eyelids was the image of Justin Biebers pristine face. I listened to it on repeat that morning for 2 hours while I got ready for school and today I clicked on my youtube history and this is what I saw.

I am clearly obsessed. There you see me listening to many different versions of Boyfriend, then, more recently you see me stalking his girlfriend Selena Gomez so I could judge if I was better than her (which I am, in pretty much every way). The 'Genuine' and 'Peaches and Cream' are thrown into the mix because though I am a duller version, I am still the same kind of genius I was as a child.

I am definately a belieber now and I'm not sure there is any turning back. At work I said 'Hells yeah! I'd totes tap that, he's legal in the US now mother fuckerrrrrrs'. I was greeted with blank stares until someone said with disbelief in their voice 'Did you just say, 'tap that'?'.

What makes me sweat a little is that I don't actually know how old Justin is but I remain confident in the belief that I could make him a man if he wasn't already one.

Oh my god. That is officially the creepiest and most pedo-friendly thing I've ever said. Let's all forget I said that until I google how old he is.

...

JUST TURNED 18! That was in capitals because I thought it was an epiphany and I was now cured of all Bieber-fever symptoms, false alarm everyone, the shouting was in fact relief that he is technically legal. In Australia anyway.

Love Nani
x

Cleaning my room and wondering 'Why the hell is he still my boyfriend?'

I am aware that I owe you all a post about Women of Letters, Le Gateau Chocolat and my turban experience. However I don't feel like doing any of those things right now, so i'm going to write the blog that feels like being written.

Last week I let myself into Fabians house, walked straight passed him and fell, plank like, onto his bed. When he came in and sat down next to me I started crying. 'What in earth is wrong?' he asked me.

In a voice muffled by pillow I responded 'I've run out of underwear.'

'Are you wearing any right now?''

I nodded, smudging my mascara into his pillow case, 'I'm wearing some of yours.'

This is the sort of thing that happens when I am busy 6 days a week and spend my 1 day off frantically trying to catch up with friends. I lose the time to even do my laundry and my upstairs slowly becomes a den.

Of course, because Fabian is amazing his response to the fact that i'd thieved his underwear, after sighing and stroking my head, was 'let's spend all of Sunday just cleaning your upstairs and doing your laundry.'

So Sunday morning arrived and after what seemed to be my first sleep in for what felt like forever I turned on my phone and learned that it was 8:09am. Fabian was awake and was watching me in a totally non-creepy adoring sort of way which he tends to do most mornings leading me to question if he is normal. I shimmied over to where he was and spent the next while listenng simultaneously to his heart beat and to his voice reassuringly tell me all the things that, in his mind, make up my identity,

Now may be an appropriate time to explain that this is a relatively normal morning for us, we usually like to get the identity crisis issues along with the 'I'm-fat' crying sessions out of the way before breakfast.

'...you are so strong willed, almost too much so but that is something I love most about you. You also love being arou- Natalija. I think there is a worm on your ceiling.'.

I looked up to where his gaze was fixed and couldn't see anything but the great white expanse that was ceiling. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow and snuggled back into my former position.

'There is another one' he says, pointing.

Annoyed that our morning discussion had been interrupted by invisible worms, I distangled myself from him and groped around for my glasses. I found them, wedged between my matress and bed frame where they night after night reside and yet somehow manage to stay intact. I crammed them onto my nose and saw the ceiling with sudden 20-20 clarity.

'Those are maggots, Fabian. Not worms.'

This is the point in the story where I could explain the perfectly good reason behind me having maggots in my room but i've been warned that '...you sound immensly crazy when you try and justify something like that Natalija.', and so I won't bother. I will however admit that it was a GOOD CALL to spend Sunday cleaning my room.

I would also like to take this moment in time to reassure you all that the source of maggots has been removed, every inch of my room vacuumed and thoroughly cleaned to such an extent that even the insides of all of my sets of drawers recieved a clean.

Mum, there really is no need to keep calling the CAT team, I am quite alright now. What I like to refer to as my maggot-driven-cleaning-hysteria passed at the point when I threw out half of my possesions whilst screaming 'it's all unclean!'.

I will no longer be neglecting my household duties in order to cram in seeing friends, work and uni. Emptying a bin with a piece of fruit in it should not be a mammoth task for which I have no time, neither should making sure I have enough clean undies for every day of the week.

If I am too busy to spend my time with y'all, please rest assured it's because I'm battling maggots, doing laundry, watching transexual opera, enjoying the company of my books and doing whatever else it takes to keep me sane this year. A year in which I will aim to stay healthy, keep blogging, earn some money and finish my degree. I'm proud of me for putting myself first, it's all I could wish for anyone to do. Hopefully you're cheering me on and not being a hater.


Love Nani x

Never, ever, give up.

When I was little I remember being very impressed by my sister. Anyone who knows me is aware that not much has changed except for the fact that no-one would call me little anymore.

I remember looking into her room and her sitting at her desk doing something really important. I used to think it was always homework or study, but now I realise that the hand-written Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Marcy Playground lyrics that were stuck up on her wardrobe were of her own doing too.

Being so intelligent and grown up, as she appeared to me at the time, was something that I thought I too would achieve when I started at high school and got homework to do. Nevermind that I was in primary school and had primary school homework to do, which I diligently ignored.

Above her desk, in a simple black frame, was a cartoon picture of a stork or some other long necked big beaked bird. The stork was swallowing a frog, or rather trying to. The frog, whose body was clearly depicted bulging out from deep down that bird's skinny neck had its arms outside the birds beak with hands wrapped tightly around the birds neck, strangling it.

Underneath it said 'Never, ever give up.'

In the past week I got offered a job and then had it taken away from me in 5 minutes. I had about 35 calls not returned to me and I harassed HR til they were at wits end. I then got told I didn't get the job. I probably should have given up at that stage, but because I have no other prospective job on my radar I decided to continue pursuing it, and whaddaya know?

Tomorrow I have my interview for that job at 2:30, because via a slightly morbid stork/frog cartoon fusion my mama taught me and my sister to never, ever give up.

I may not have grown up to be serious or studious like I hoped, but at least as well as being slightly annoying i'm both persistent and stubborn.

I'll keep ya'll posted after my interview tomorrow, at least if I don't get it i'll know I tried!

I'm practically famous

You guys!

My blog got to over a 1000 hits the other day! This means, because there are approx 83 posts and because I've been doing this for almost a year that on average at least 12 people have read this blog every day...

Look, if you don't understand how approximate maths works,it's not my problem. Just take my word for it that I'm pretty much famous.

I'm on my way home from the city where I watched Wild River, an awesome movie from 1960. The next few weeks playing at Cinematheque are all Elia Kazan films. Next week is A Streetcar Named Desire and I'm very excited about it, hopefully I'll be able to go.

Now that I'm a professional blogger I feel like I should be paid, or at least get presents, when I say good things about a company. It's okay ACMI, you get a free shout out this time. (When you realise your embarrassing faux pas of not knowing who I am you can make it up to me with a yearly pass to Cinematheque.)

This is a photo of me being a professional blogger on the train. As you can see, I am also a very considerate person. The film tonight was made in 1960, so the skirt I'm wearing is from 1950. I did this in case the actors on screen were somehow transported through time and space and were able to walk into 2012.



I wouldn't want them to be freaked out by our futuristic fashion (let's be honest...it's pretty terrible). See my plan is that if they walked through the screen I'd jump at them and be all like 'Hey guys! Let's go bowling and rollerskating!' to distract them and make them think it was still the 60's while Captain Picard (who'd traveled BACK in time from far in the future) figured out how to transport them back into their time.

Montgomery Cliff and Lee Remick would be all 'that skirt is so 10 years ago. We feel sorry for you - loser girl. Of course we'll come roller skating and bowling that's what everyone does in 1960!' and Captain Picard would be all 'You are such a genius distracting them. I never expected to meet such a svelte and intelligent woman in 2012 - as you know I have come from the far future to stop this time blip, now I insist - call me Jean-Luc and come with me into the future and be my wife even though for some reason we all laugh at monogamy on my spaceship and dress like we're from the 70s.'

AND I WOULD DO IT IN A HEARTBEAT.

Nani x

80's dress, Cyndi Lauper and Twin Peaks

I've been watching Twin Peaks with Fabian, my all time favourite TV series and it always makes me so happy. No matter who i'm watching it with it always reminds me of the first time I watched it with Sofija, Jasmine, Liam and Harry when I was much younger.

That was one of the happiest times of my life and I think i'll always treasure those golden days.

I went shopping with my new friend Molly (who i've actually known for 5 years yet for some reason have only struck up a friendship with her now...how strange life is!) the other day and we share a love of good vintage clothes.

We both wound up with some killer dresses and skirts. As I write this i'm wearing an 80's dress, 100% polyester with removable shoulder pads...I don't think I want to remove them!

Of course, Cyndi Lauper started playing on my itunes and the whole mood was created. She became one of my idols when I was 16 and I still think she's one of the coolest people to look up to.

I have more or less recovered completely from my surgery, i'm experiecing some systemic weakness but that will pass with good sleep and time...and i'm happy to oblige my body with as much sleep as it needs!

I started working at my student clinic last week, which was very exciting. Of course, I was assigned the first week of reception duty so I didn't get to treat any patients - which worked out for the best in the end because I got zapped of energy very quickly.

Now sticking to my vintage theme of the day, i'm off to play Heroes of Might and Magic II and see what Fabian's up to.

Love Nani xx

Update:

I visited Fab and his aquaponics garden was bursting with chillies, green tomatoes and mint!




Here I am, very happy with the harvest and my 80s dress

One organ less, an immobile boyfriend and some good food.

Well hello there!

I am back, you may have noticed my absence or perhaps you aren't as avid a bunch as I thought. Let me clear this up, I AM back and by back I mean I feel alive again.

I didn't write about it on my blog before because I hate the idea of having an online whinge and being a poor-me style blogger. I had my Gall Bladder out 2 weeks ago and felt like death herself for a couple of days. I've managed to bounce back, finally, which is lucky because Fabian was in hospital too.

He did his knee at soccer a day before my operation and hasn't been able to move it since! In the meantime he's had to deal with a deep vein thrombosis, blood thinners, a bleed, immobility and finally things are ok and back on track with him too.

We are totally balls at the health thing, but we figure it out somehow.

I sit here bruised, missing my gall bladder and ugly, looking at my boyfriend with his swollen, damaged leg that'll probably need surgery and I can't help but realize how lucky we are because we're together and in love and somehow we aren't too jaded.

So let me fill y'all in on what's new in relatively quick dots points

- This post is being created on my brand spanking new iPad that I bought while Fab was in hospital so he'd have something to play with. See, at the time I didn't know how long he'd bein there for and I'd wanted to buy an iPad for ages so when there seemed a good reason to buy one...I did! Of course, he got discharged that morning, but it doesn't matter because we're loving it.

-Skyrim is kick ass still, which is great. Fab bought that for me as a way to take my mind off the upcoming operation and the pain etc, which was very sweet of him and has proven useful for doing just that. We're playing it on the new flat screen and playstation3 we also bought...yes, almost all savings down the drain...and it's great. Good, big purchases, not lost on everyday stuff.

- Weight loss is going very well too, the operation helped that along a bit I must admit! Im 8kg down since I started watching my food ect in October so I'm over the moon about that, I don't think I'd classify myself as chubby anymore.

- I have realized how precious all my friends really are. They've been wanting to visit loads and I even got 2 cards. CARDS people, how old school and awesome is that!? I've also got to spend heaps of time with my sister which has been really, really cool.

- Mum gave me a sewing machine. It's going to be my latest project...watch this space.

That's all for now, expect more updates now that I'm up and about.

Love,
Nani x

Why resolutions aren't shit and why i'm so happy

I haven't had any new years resolutions for the past 2 years, more because I couldn't really think of any rather than that I think they're crap.

This year I had a few though and I was really compelled to make them stick, so they're written into my beautiful new diary and I am telling everyone so that they can help keep me on track.

1) be less fat (I have lost 5kg since the end of October! woo!)
2) wear more heels (I have lovely legs and I look nice in heels, but i'm often to lazy to wear them)
3) Only do what I want to do.
4) Start an online store for my pottery/creative ventures

Okay, the explanation for 3) can't be summed up in a quick sentance between brackets. I have had enormous trouble the past couple of years with my will power. It's very tricky to try and explain it but i've cared far too much what others have thought of me (an issue I never had in the past) and feelings of obligation have placed me in situations I find boring, unsatisfying and draining.

This year, i'm not doing any of it. I made a massive discovery towards the end of last year that has really given me the strength to make some big changes. I have been really happy this year so far, that sounds silly but the happier I am for longer periods of time the more motivated I am to stay that way.

I hate feeling like there are things I should be doing but can't for whatever reason. That's why, this year the moment I realise there is something I should do/want to do I do it or start the process immediately.

It's been really liberating.

And, speaking of which I just remembered my car is a mess and has been for almost 6 months now - so i'm off to clean that up a little.

Love Nani x

Fireworks, near death and diarrhea

Wow, that's a subject title that pretty much promises to deliver.

Yesterday was spent with my dear group of friends which consists of about 15 boys. The day before NYE I recieved 3 txts which summarises my friends pretty well, they went like this...

G: Hey poo bums tomorrow NYE come to mine after 9:45pm for a big sausage pizza. Bring a bottle of absynth, EACH.

C: Brock vs Overeem and BBQ good times, my place from 12. UFC starts at 2pm. Txt back so I know how many cows to kill.

S: Yo party people, after C's epic bbq and UFC goodness at 12pm, and before G's epic party and Jewness at 9:45pm, come round to my place for a post fight/pre party bbq at 6pm. I have plenty of beer and meats. Msg back if you're down.


So yesterday was a sausage fest in all ways. The BBQs always consists of mass amounts of meat and very very little salad - (I quote: 'Why is this steak green?') and lots of fun.

Overeem beat Brock which was awesome and Brock then retired so that was exciting. Illegal fireworks were hilariously set of in a tiny space full of people - much screaming, giggling and spear tackling ensued.

Fab and I took a break from the 24hour meat challenge to meat, whoops, to meet with a friend for some thai food. A welcome change.

More fireworks, of course, this time at the beach where other beach goers clapped and thanked us for the show. A mishap with a firework that shot off directly in our direction instead of up...again, more screaming and hilarity.

There were some new years kisses and when it was all over, I came home to find my dog had had diarrhea all over the house.

A wonderful evening all up. In hindsight it was probably a short preview of the year to come, or at least I hope so.

Good friends, new friends, lots of bbqs, silly behaviour, midnight kissing, near death firework experiences and a little bit of shit.

I made a few new years resolutions too, mainly just be less fat, wear more heels and a few slightly more interesting ones that i'll reveal as they hopefully take effect.

Love Nani x