A weekend of B's.

You know you are doing something wrong in life when three consecutive days that don't involve any form of work is a massive deal. Some time to simply live, after days and days of constant exhaustion.

As soon as this summer is over, I'm going to put all my effort into making my life a little less about work and a little more about the enjoyable smatterings that come in between.

Lucky for me, I'm going to be kicking off my new goal with some time in my favourite hemisphere (the Southern, because duh) with my favourite family (my own, because duh) in just under three short weeks.

Rambling now, back to the matter at hand, my weekend of B's.

Babies.

Birthdays.

Bitches (aka my best friends from school....you guys aren't bitches! You are beautiful woman, don't let anybody tell you otherwise...except me...because I needed a B word!)

B-argaritas (Ok I'm pushing it.)

A girl, a boy and a truck full of gifts for bump. 

Piggin' out. 

 Birthdays and babies....and really sweaty hair, gross...good one, Jordyn. 

The best shade of blue. 

A memory book filled with selfies.....also, a sign you should stop taking selfies. 

Open Container laws.

My favourite food group: Part I

Cold girls club.

Champagne and Catfish marathons. 

My favourite food group: Part II

But alas the weekend is over, and the work week has begun.

I'm one step further away from 12 years old, and I'm honestly not sure how I feel about that.

I am ready for my vacation now.

Summer in New York is only bareable when you don't have to physically do anything all day (this picture was taken this morning...I have since left my apartment...I stand by that first statement)

New York I don't know how you managed to make me hate my favourite season, but congrats. You made an Australian hate summer.

Also, I really miss Australia recently. Whenever I get into a conversation with someone about it, I always leave with the same question.

Australia is my home, I think it's the greatest country in the world....yet I choose not to live there?

I confuse myself.

Oh well, here is a picture of me with some balloons I made a stranger by me the other day. That stranger and I have a date tomorrow and I'm pretty sure I'm in *love with him already.

*Not real human love..."Jordyn love" where I obsess over cute people who *buy me things

*that was a joke! You don't need to buy me things!...but I mean I will take some *cupcakes

*I prefer doughnuts  

P.S. Oh actually doughnuts or just buy me tattoos for my birthday. Thanks strangers.

20 year old Dordyline is all about a poorly placed exclamation point!!!

Nice to meet you, I'm a baby kitty!

Last week I turned the dirty...20. For most of the people in my life this was a momentous day for the simple fact it was the day I completely lost my damn mind. Since the age of ten, I have been praised for my maturity, often being called an old soul or wise beyond my years. At one point I adored those around me viewing me as these things and often mistaking me for someone much older.....that was until I WAS much older...

20 is a big freakin' deal man! I am no longer a teenager, and therefore no longer have a solid excuse for my bratty, immature actions! I feel like I should be making big moves, planning vacations or weddings or at least attending such events! I feel like I'm still a little girl wearing my Grandmas old, gold heels and swimming in tacky perfume that made my entire family's head pound. I miss powder blue eye shadow and tacky hair extensions that fit snug over my unbrushed bun! I still expect to come home at night and find my Mum stirring up a pot of delicious (or American Chop Chey...hmph) whilst I avoid doing my homework on the sidelines or swiftly sneak 30 racks of cheap beers out of my bedroom window! I'm still waiting to be as old as Cher Horwitz was in Clueless or Cady Heron was in Mean Girls! I'm still waiting for my teenage movie to start and now it feels that within the blink of an eye it is all over and I'm being replaced with the new generation of regulation hotties!

*dramatics induced panic attack*

Now to be fair my birthday itself was a glorious day filled with cupcakes and good beer, kitty cuddles and midnight birthday brownies. I felt at peace surrounded by great friends and although my inner child felt as if she was becoming more ghostlike as the night wore on, the less dramatic side of me thinks that I might just be ok.

Although if anybody wants to invite me to any American Pie style high school ragers, I would be happy to get teenage buck wild just one more time!