Authentic Jealousy

Ok so I've actually bid my goodnights to everyone that I was chatting to online but bear with me for this quickie post because I've finally discovered a link to Fashion Bloggers TV which is gold.

Needless to say I am 10 minutes in and shrivelling up with jealousy.

Shrivelling would be to put it mildly.

I am going to comment briefly on this though (when do I ever not have a comment on anything?). I give credit to those who pursue fashion blogs and the like, but these people, these successful bloggers, innovatively piggy-backed onto something that wasn't even a thing 4 or so years ago. They're smart and calculating in their choices to produce genuine content. I keep rambling on about authenticity these days, but it's true, we're surrounded by a plethora of wannabes and the same old same old style. These ones? They have a uniqueness about them. Their 'sense' of 'style' is truly their own. 

I dunno, I might be crumbling in jealousy but the credit and pay off is well worth the amount of effort that must have been divested into these projects.

Here's the first episode if y'all want to join me in my reflection of the inadequacy of my life (a fairly premature and melodramatic statement, I know)

xx

Apathetic Inclinations and Midi Skirts

There are far too many things to do in this last week before finals barrage down on me, but whilst I should be severely editing a piece of Chinese dialogue (to be presented tomorrow, I might add), I find myself in a bit of a funk where all efforts seem almost 'futile' in my eyes.

Futile is, however, a fairly strong word and doesn't truly convey my thought process. I may just have gotten myself into a situation where after missing too many Psychology lectures (sorry, it's just not my calling I should have changed majors probably three months ago), I'm now stumped with just how little I understand. (Unsurprising, I know)

Anyway, if anyone has barely seen me in the past week they know that all I've been rambling on about is my newfound love for midi skirts. There is something intrinsically classy and girly about a midi skirt where I unbelievably feel like a dolled up princess when wearing one (especially when the sole midi skirt in your wardrobe is a pleather gem that feels absurdly like the real deal - I would know, we have the exact same one in real leather at Saba).

Before I say what I'm about to say, here's a disclaimer: 'fashion' and 'style' should be for yourself. By no means whatsoever should you care, or consider too deeply, what other people think about your sense of style. Stop thinking too much about if you look good in something, if you love something you'll look good in it (more or less).

With that out of the way, I'm going to address one thing in as briefest terms as possible (because I really need to get back to doing that Chinese dialogue): university fashion. I am by far what I would consider a 'stylish' person. I wear a whole heap of basics and for the majority of semester 1, my 'uni look' (insert a brief ironic tone) usually consisted of boots, jeans and a top.

As of late, I am disappointed (?) at the lack of effort the majority of uni students put into their clothes. It's not to say we can't have cheat days of casual wear, but being put together and looking nice (at least for most people) is a nice thing to do for themsevles. When I have no eyeliner, no eyebrows filled in, wearing an old tshirt, skinnies and a pair of vans with my backpack; call me superficial, but all I can think about is how 'slob' I look.

I'm not advocating narcissistic tendencies, but when you put some effort into your wardrobe choice it's reflected in the day. You get comments from friends, compliments for an amazing midi skirt a new item etc. etc. It's a feel good thang.

So the next time I/someone turns up to uni wearing matching co-ordinates, a pair of heels (I kid you not, I would totally do this if my balls could withstand the pain - as it is walking along the cobbled paths of USyd in heels is a near-impossible feat), a doll-ed up face (my skin needs to breathe so eyeliner/eyebrow combo suffices my needs), or is just looking a good 10/10; don't hate, appreciate.

xx

Postponing of the Peak Hour Storm

There is nothing that comes to mind that tops the feeling you get when you're at home and the rain is pouring down hard outside.

Finally the storm has come and thank god. I can hear the dripping water off the edge of my roof hitting the floor of my balcony, the windy rain bashing against the palm tree leaves, the whistling of the wind. The faint growling of thunder and the beautiful streak of light that flashes across the sky. 

It's all very poetic and blasé, but it's very strangely comforting - what I'm feeling right now could even beat the bliss of staying in a car and feeling the rain tumble down.

In an otherwise unrelated note, I think the remarkable thing about this year is that it is very much a gap year for me. I might not be out travelling, and I'm still a full-time uni student and whatnot; but it was a gap year from people it would appear.

I should quickly clarify, by no means do I mind or dislike people, but the flexibility of attendance and anonymity of uni means that the year has represented a nice reprieve from social interaction or a nice opportunity for selective social interaction (how awfully introverted of me to say, but it appears I'm embracing this introverted side of me to its fullest in recent days). 

And I think I really did need this. How could you put it, I'm recharging for the next years to come.

High school doesn't give you this autonomy - not even close. 5 days a week of school, 9 am to 3:30 pm, there is no room for you to have a quiet moment by yourself, to just figure out what you want. Which is pretty contradictory, considering you're expected to formulate an ATAR goal by late Year 11 that'll determine your career path - but that's a rant for another time.

Anyway, I think a small part of me wanted to justify (ironically on a social media platform), my absence of desire for social interaction this year. Yes, it is a tad antisocial, no I haven't stayed at home and mulled about life all year round; but compared to others it's been a bit lacking. I just needed some solo recharging, but I'm just about ready to hit the 100% mark.

Wow I somehow manage to sound like the Energiser bunny.

xx

Less Existentialism, More Cramming

'Less existentialism, more cramming' generally befits my current situation. Time is a strange concept that twirls around fluidly with no tangible sense, given I very sincerely believed today was Wednesday - to the point that my manager called me today in a conversation as follows:

A: Helen can you work tomorrow?

B: Wait, didn't I ask for tomorrow off like a month ago?

A: For tomorrow? No you didn't.

B: Really are you sure? (Cue panic because I have plans Thursday night)

A: For Tuesday?

B: Wait today isn't Wednesday?

A: Maaaaaate

Anyway, finals are fast approaching and I've listed out deadlines for sub-tasks that need to be completed in anticipation for the assessment horrors that I will confront in my last week of uni for the year (one exam on one day, followed by two essays on the next day sound appealing to anyone?); but I suppose this is what I get to compromise for the fact that I only have two exams in the exam block.

It is, however, very bizarre thinking that a year ago from now I would've just begun the HSC. In all honesty it feels forever, forever ago; I already feel like I'm in Year II, but hey comme j'ai déjà dit, time is a strangely perceived thing these days subject to far too much inaccuracy. I heard BoS did a nasty change up of format in Paper 1 (condolences to all those who misread the question!) but I'm sure Paper 2 will come and go easily and you can move onto regurgitating  the rest of your pre-prepared content in the rest of the coming weeks. 

To those Twelvies sitting their HSC this month, good luck lovelies, it'll come and go before you know it (and more assignments await for yourselves in uni as well! yay!).

Some mellow tunes (and a hint of nostalgia, check out the Delta track and the -albeit new- Veronicas song!) for the bipolar week to come.

xx

Procrastinatory Tendencies

To be honest, the last three weeks of First Year have just started up again today and I'm not feelin' it. That's a lie, I'm a self-proclaimed nerd and genuinely enjoy learning, school and all that jazz; but my levels of procrastination or my threshold for 'effective work' is alarmingly high. 

I'm not that person who irritatingly proclaims "I only started the essay the night before" in a blasé fashion just to attract some strange flock of attention towards my supposed intelligence. I'm just someone who seems to work better under time crunches, where I think quickly on the spot and make decisions of self-assessment. I can't say it's the most effective plan, but in all honesty (and I might be jinxing myself here), I haven't encountered a major failure that has prevented me from reverting to these procrastinatory tendencies. Which, to be frank, is probably exactly what I need.

There's an odd sense of condescending irony in my amusement of graduating Year 12s condemning starting Year 12s for their stress for the incoming year. It's more than likely the same level of apathy and indignation that I feel towards HSC students, and probably the same affection I'll feel next year when I see First Years frantically stressing and making a big fuss out of marks and the be all end all.

All in all, I've tried to make this concerted effort of not over-dramaticising certain events. Marks are marks, there is no point to be melodramatic. Perhaps the only time I've been excessively melodramatic recently has resulted from an experience of personal insult that I found completely uncalled for and unprofessional - but that's a story for a different time.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to get at, but perhaps all I want to say to everyone who has the slight tendency to take events and blow them out of control is that, shit happens, calm down, life goes on. Stop exerting so much energy judging what other people think and do, and get on with your own life. I sincerely believe that if you know yourself, know your flaws, your strengths, your tendencies etc., you really shouldn't even be caring about what other people think of you. 

It's sorta just a waste of time really, and you know what they say, life is too short for that type of think.

xx

#letsdodessert

October Good Food Month calls for some much needed food blogging in amidst the existential ramblings of yours truly.

Following a walk to The Star where I met up with J, 'chelle, and A; we had a quick dinner where I finally managed to satisfy my chips craving with a hearty fish and chips at Flying Fish and Chips.

Classic fish and chips (15)

Although the chips were incredibly delicious, roughly cut and paralleling the crisp glory that are Manning Bar chips, I felt like the fish was at times a bit disappointing. Maybe had a generous shake of salt covered it I might have felt differently, but all in all it was a pretty good meal.

Next on we moved on to proceed to do two 'sugarhits'. For the past two nights, J had been galling me with her proclamations of 'sugarhits' to which I had no idea what was going on. Turns out 'Let's Do Dessert' (as it is called now) used to be called 'Sugarhits'; testament to the age of my lovely sister and her friends.

First was a leisurely walk to the Google building (of all places, I didn't think the Google building would be located in Pyrmont though!), where we found Signorelli Gatronomia, which may have just become my favourite restaurant. Quietly tucked away next to what seems at night like a creepy park, the restaurant is absolutely gorgeous. The service was absurdly, ridiculously impeccable, outdoor seating (it's not quite outdoors, more like indoors the Google building, but outdoors in terms of the restaurant if that makes sense) featured high bar tables as well as couches and lounges; tables were lit by faux candles and the echo of laughter and merriment continually softly filled the air by others cradling wine glasses and drinks.

We were treated to the vertical garden, this beast of a dessert which featured frozen nougat, rose blossom loukoum, lychee jelly, raspberry yolk and a pistachio wall.

There honestly isn't much I can say about this except that this is, by far the best dessert I have ever had. I'm sometimes this old lady who doesn't like new things or modern infusions because the taste is a bit too advanced for myself or it's just too bizarre. But wow, wow. the twill was soft and crisp, the combination of the fresh lychee and the pistachio and everything was just perfect. Far from being heavy on the palette, this is honestly just delicious. If you can't make it out to anything this October, make it out to just this restaurant, for this dessert. No amount of hype will kill the glowing reviews I'm giving it. And, for 20$ all up inclusive with the delicious dessert wine provided, it's an absolute bargain!

After an hour or so of talking about politics (it was far more interesting that what it sounds like I swear!), we ventured out to find the Grace Brasserie, where we found ourselves in an albeit bizarre location with uncertainties with what to expect.

But combatting the light delicacy that was the vertical garden, we were pleasantly surprised with the richness of the hazelnut praline chocolate mousse cake with green tea ice-cream, berries and pistachio floss that we were presented with.





All in all it was a lovely night filled with thought provoking conversation, delicious food and an overall need to start a strenuous routine of gym life (especially given that China is fast approaching).

xx

Old Soul

I've always thought that it was a tad pretentious when people identified themselves as an 'old soul in a young body' (especially coming from tweens and teens), but as of late (like many things), the idiom of sorts has struck a chord with me.

From this at-times turgid article to the light-heartedness of a Buzzfeed checklist, I find myself realising more and more that things that would ordinarily excite anyone else my age, I don't see the pleasure in doing. This is all some surface-level stuff though, no deep and meaningfuls here. It may be my introverted side dominating (on a side note I find it semi-amusing when people are surprised to discover that I identify myself as an introvert) more so than usual in this strange period of paradoxical change and stability, but who knows.

Case study: clubbing and intoxication. The idea of clubbing (despite only being experienced by yours truly a meagre two times) is a concept in itself that I'm fairly over. The thought of it doesn't scream 'fun' to me anymore, my image of an ideal night out would be spending the evening in a cozy wine bar with lounges I can sink into, red wine glass in hand, soft music playing in the background whilst I engage in either animated or deep conversation with an old friend. It's precisely thoughts like these that jar against my Facebook feed of friends out clubbing at foam parties, of the friends who I know are perpetually intoxicated on a weekend, of friends whose Snapchat stories are filled with doof doof music at the latest club they've gone into, or when friends recount their latest adventures into beer pong and house parties. The slight hypocrisy is that I can't even say I don't participate in these types of things - purely that I am far more likely to attend one that has my work mates going (all at least a decade older than myself), than one where there are an abundance of Year I kiddies like myself; if I feel inclined to go at all.

I'm not going to lie, it isn't as if there isn't not even a slight twinge of jealousy at these people 'living life to their fullest', but it's just that were I to mimic these behaviours, it wouldn't be genuine to myself. I tire of everything so easily and quickly, I love to try everything once, but I won't keep flogging a dead horse in vain attempts to be like everyone else my age.

I reiterate, I still think it's fairly precocious of me when I say things like this, but genuinely I look back and as a child, as a teenager; I've always been able to get along far better with people much older than me than people my age. Family friends always commented that I appeared to have matured earlier than the norm, work colleagues who I work with for the first time guess that I'm in my 20s already before being shocked with my real age, other colleagues are surprised of the things I say and the way I view life, suggesting that I'm too old for my age.

Anyway, on an unrelated note, I very rarely use this word (although I seem to be using it far too often these days), but this album is absurdly beautiful to listen to:



xx