It's raining,which as previously mentioned is my favourite weather and because of this I should be happy as a clam. But, I'm wearing inappropriate footwear (whaaaat? How unlike me!) and I'm exceptionally hung over. This is leaving me with little patience and if one more tourist smacks me unknowingly with their umbrella, I will ram mine so far down their esophagus they....I can't think of anything humorous, I'm too mad. So pick your own ending....but it will be gruesome!
Runnin' on the treadmill and only eatin' salaads.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Mission: Lose the 30 pounds that have rudely taken up home on my body apparently started today (...there is only so many times you can blame it on your slightly bigger chest...but I'm probably going to keep doing that anyway.) Thankfully I'm not the girl who puts their entire value on the scale and have always been more than comfortable with my shape, I've even come to love my thicker thighs and I like having some curve, I'm just trying this whole health garbage people have been yabbering on about. I like to run, but apparently I like alcohol and candy more. I guess it's time to welcome adulthood and swing that pendulum further away from cupcakes and a little closer to abs.
Last Supper...
Or actually....last supper....
And then I went to visit my family's pizza store and we were messing around with new flavours and ideas and I couldn't exactly say no to Mr. Apple Pie Calzone! That would just be rude.
Ok whatever I'll start next week.
I never seen a sight that didn't look better looking' back.
Friday, April 25, 2014
I have a confession to make....
I'm a hoarder.
It's really bad.
I was born with a natural desire to document. I have an amazing memory, and I think this stems from my ability to be able to link memories to physical objects I can have, hold and cherish long after an event has happened.
This is why I hoard.
I have boxes scattered throughout my life full to the brim with pictures and letters and trinkets from years past and present that I constantly look through to simply smile and remember.
This weekend I really needed a life pause. I was stressed and emotionally drained and I felt like what I really needed was a trip out of the city, some Yama (...a Korean Restaurant for anybody who isn't Erika) and a couple of long runs on the treadmill with some Big L pounding into my brain. So I hopped on a bus and trekked up to the woods.
Whenever I take a trip up here I like to make it a point to go through my high school memories box...it's quite possibly one of my favourites and it's especially good in de-stressing me from the adult drama that sent me running in the first place.
Some random things I came across include....
I'm a hoarder.
It's really bad.
I was born with a natural desire to document. I have an amazing memory, and I think this stems from my ability to be able to link memories to physical objects I can have, hold and cherish long after an event has happened.
This is why I hoard.
I have boxes scattered throughout my life full to the brim with pictures and letters and trinkets from years past and present that I constantly look through to simply smile and remember.
This weekend I really needed a life pause. I was stressed and emotionally drained and I felt like what I really needed was a trip out of the city, some Yama (...a Korean Restaurant for anybody who isn't Erika) and a couple of long runs on the treadmill with some Big L pounding into my brain. So I hopped on a bus and trekked up to the woods.
Whenever I take a trip up here I like to make it a point to go through my high school memories box...it's quite possibly one of my favourites and it's especially good in de-stressing me from the adult drama that sent me running in the first place.
Some random things I came across include....
Sand and a stolen Skee-ball from one of our many post-graduation trips to Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
A cigar I bought the day I turned 18, My friend Emily's 16th Birthday present (She is now 21) and one of about 7000 photo booth photos.
A bear my parents got me when I turned 13 and a card given to me by a friend back when I moved to America at 11.
One of the many friendship bracelets that graced my wrist over the years, an old school ID from my school in Brisbane, a simple "I love yeu" gifted to me by my once baby (now over 6 foot tall) brotherand a "hit list" written by my two best friends and I at the angsty age of 15.
An old Blue Moon bottle my best friends and I used to ring in 2009....and then went home to do Myspace surveys together....
A sealed letter from my friend Katie to herself that I must give back to her once she graduates from college....or when she saves the world (I'm thinking the latter may come first), A "Congrats Grad" necklace I drunkenly wore for about 3 days following graduation, A letter from one of my daycare kiddies when I left to go off to college and finally, a list my best friend wrote me of the 10 things she would use to describe me....starting off with lazy, what a sweetheart! (zoomed in below)
All these random things were sandwiched between pages and pages of friendship notes, love notes, birthday cards, pictures, postcards and valentines. They all live together in the tippy top of a closet that houses other old memories, pictures and artwork. They are safe there. Hidden away, yet always available for me to retreat to when I need a pick me up and a wander to the past.
And it's always a reminder that as hard and confusing as life gets, at least I don't live in a hole like this old game of MASHO predicted...
#winning
Sick.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
In the last 24 hours I went from the picture of health to annoying sick and stuffed up. Feeling crummy....
...looking crummier.
I blame the temperamental weather that just days ago had me in flip flops and a smile that then suddenly decided to cover the city in snow and chill. Being the moron I am, I rarely check the weather channel so yesterday I decided to wear flats, PVC leggings and a flowy shirt that did very little to protect me from any kind of wind. I almost cried on my walk home as I blew around the side walk, you wouldn't have known though as I was also covered in a light coating of icy rain. It was definitely Hunter Boot and Jacket whether and being the awesome planner I am, I was without both.
So many poor decisions.
If anybody needs me I'll be rugged up in bed, bitching about my choices and feeling an inch from death.
Another thing, I have a weird shooting pain just below my heart? Am I dying? Is this the end for me?
I'll keep you posted....
or not...
because I may die...
Sam Turner is 25.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
I was born with a built in best friend. It took me a few years to realize that is what he really was, but he was there from day one. I would have preferred someone who wasn't a freckled, pale, ginger because I mean, who wants to be friends with that? But I'll take what I was given.
When we were small, annoying Sam both intentionally and unintentionally seemed to be an every day occurrence. Who knew slurping ones Coco Pops could drive another so insane? Once he learned how to swear and what his middle finger represented, I was doomed. He never wanted to hang out with his lame little sister, but I didn't stop trying.
I followed him and his friends through the streets begging to be included, I gave up broccoli (one of my favorite foods!) because he didn't like it and I even remember trying desperately to give him my pocket money in an attempt to help the forever broke play laser tag with his friends....nothing.
The happiest day of my life was when Sam woke and realized how amazing I really was (Big ups to his friends for letting me know how much he talks about my awesomeness....like homie is kind of a fan girl, it's great.) It's like all those years of constantly following him around, begging my Mum to force him to be nice to me and literally diving in front of his dart board trying to get him to notice me, had paid off (Don't give up on your dreams kids, begging and relentless pestering can work wonders!)
In a divorced household where you grow up pin balling between houses (sometimes on different sides of the world), where you will always have that missing piece of "family" forever in the back of your mind, it's good to have someone who has experienced the exact same thing, and dealt with the exact same emotions.
Sam is my most familiar thing in life, because up until that moment in a bustling LAX terminal in the summer of 2007, when I was about to move back to Australia and he was about to head off to college, we lived the same life. He has more amo on me than any other person in the world and because of this he will be doing no speeches at my wedding....or funeral for that matter, that shit will die with me Sam, mark my words.
I love every member of my family immensely, and nothing will ever change that, but I have a special place within my cold heart for my Sam. I worry about him as if he was my child and I want him to succeed and find happiness in everything he does more than I want it for myself. Don't get me wrong, there are a few things I would love to change...but at the end of the day I'm learning to accept that these little quirks and annoyances are what make Sam, Sam. The Sam that has always been my other. Even now, I think my Dad forgets we are different people as he lectures me for things Sam does. We are just one little unit. And it's the best unit I can imagine being apart of.
So to you Sammy Toucan, I say happy quarter century. Thank you for the huge role you played in making my life pretty amazing . Thank you for finally realizing how blessed you are to have me in your life. Thank you for making sure 9 year old Dords knew the proper way to wear her Von Dutch trucker hat. Thank you for not ever actually getting that mad when I light your ass on fire about all the shit you do that annoys me. Thank you for making me look so good in most situations. But above all, thank you for simply being a great brother (ok, average....but it's your birthday so I'll leave the great there for laughs). I love you very much and hope you have a stupendous day. Please answer your phone, and reply to all messages because much to my surprise, I'm not the lone member of the Sam Turner fan club.....I'm just the one who unfortunately looks like you and if that isn't a damn shame I don't know what is.
Now that Jordyn's got a run she ain't ever gonna be the same....
Sunday, April 13, 2014
I just spent 15 minutes belting out "Jordyn's got a run" to the tune of Janie's got a gun by Aerosmith, all about the run in my tights that has been growing all day....I honestly find myself so hilarious it's not even funny.
Run awayyyy, Run awayyy from the pain yeah. yeah. yeah
So this morning I woke up in my usual blur of sunshine and smiles. I opened my windows and the birds came tweeting in, perfectly curling my ribboned hair with their short beaks, you know, the usual bullshit. Or not. In all actuality, what really happened is I woke up to a shooting pain all around my nether-est region (my foot, pervs). I threw off my covers to see what the heck was happening and was met with a foot lightly coated in blood. Super cool. Turns out last night I somehow managed to cut the arch of my foot whilst out, didn't notice and then spent the entire night bleeding out.
It was really cool.
It also made today totally awesome.
Walking on a cut foot is totally tubular bro.
I call this selfie, which I took to make sure my friends all knew how much was hating my life of course, Look at the pain radiating from my eyes. Someone cut my foot off. Please I beg you. I weep.
To make it somewhat more bearable, New York City is killing the weather game at the moment.
Seriously, too beautiful. This two day period between blistering snow filled winds that whip at my face and leave me breathless and the sweltering sweat box that cooks my kidneys as I walk around, is honestly amazing. New York City, we got the bagels, the good public transport and the bar's that go all night buuuut Los Angeles may have us beat on the weather game.
I'm literally racking my brain for anything that has been happening but honestly if it isn't work, my bed, or a lame dive bar with some lame homies I haven't been doing it....I'm honestly too cool and exciting some times.
Oh I did watch some super weird movie....it was literally 2 hours and had zero words. It was all images and clips of different people, places and things and after like 15 minutes I hated the human race. This was probably my favourite clip mainly because I was so fucking confused....
I watched it with my roommate, Tommy and temporary roommate, Damien and if you read my post about watching Dallas Buyers Club, you would know that it of course ended with my being crushed by boys who are way too good at making themselves at home. Involuntary snug fest 2014.
Ok, but honestly I can feel my pulse in my cut foot.
I'm not about that life.
I'm going to go and cry now.
Procrastination Station.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
I got up and ready early with strict mental instructions that today I was going to get things done! So far I've only managed to cross off actually removing myself from my bed, dragging myself to a cafe and sitting here with my pal Vonnegut. Honestly, pathetic effort!
Things that I actually planned on doing today-
Hunting for cheap acrylic paints.
New York is lovely because everything is close and easy to find...it's not so lovely in that everything is fancy and expensive.
Finding a new journal/notebook.
I spend 94% of my day just writing things down. Lists, reminders, notes, goals, dreams ect because of this and the fact that I'm exceptionally good at losing things, I need a new notebook. My current one is one I'm almost positive I stole from my youngest brother on accident, and I say "almost positive" because it says property of Declan Turner on the front...my bad.
Running.
I hate the gym, mainly because I hate creepy men and brolic assholes, and that is who seems to adore the gym. But I have come to really like running outside! Preferably when it's dusk and slightly raining...I'm picky.
Going to my school to swear at the lady in the Student Services office.
It's honestly becoming one of my favorite past times at this point.
Finding a new perfume.
Whenever I end a relationship with a boy I always have to buy a new perfume due my to memory being so closely connected to my sense of smell. Some of my favorite scents have been ruined by this very thing! Flowerbomb? Ruined by a rapper. DKNY Golden Delicious? A cop. Burberry London? A Slovakian. It's time for Marc Jacobs Honey to walk that same lonely road to forgotten.
Getting passport photos taken.
It's a good thing I decided to just not do anything with my hair today.
Hunting for a new memoir.
I recently finished Her by Christa Parravani and I loved it, it's essentially a story of a girl (Christa...duh) who loses her twin sister after battle of depression and drugs and how she copes going from a bonded duo to a singular being. Memoirs are my absolute favorite type of book from light hearted more comedic ones (a'la Bossy Pants by Tina Fey) to the more intense and raw (a'la The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby).
Writing at least another 20 pages of my book.
It's a love hate thing. When it's 3am in the morning and I'm exhaustedly tired, I can type away like there is no tomorrow. When I'm wide awake, fed and happy? Crickets I tell you.
Things I'm probably going to end up doing-
Sitting here for the next couple of hours? Before relocating to possibly my bed, possibly my friends bed or possibly happy hour.
I'm the worst.
Things that I actually planned on doing today-
Hunting for cheap acrylic paints.
New York is lovely because everything is close and easy to find...it's not so lovely in that everything is fancy and expensive.
Finding a new journal/notebook.
I spend 94% of my day just writing things down. Lists, reminders, notes, goals, dreams ect because of this and the fact that I'm exceptionally good at losing things, I need a new notebook. My current one is one I'm almost positive I stole from my youngest brother on accident, and I say "almost positive" because it says property of Declan Turner on the front...my bad.
Running.
I hate the gym, mainly because I hate creepy men and brolic assholes, and that is who seems to adore the gym. But I have come to really like running outside! Preferably when it's dusk and slightly raining...I'm picky.
Going to my school to swear at the lady in the Student Services office.
It's honestly becoming one of my favorite past times at this point.
Finding a new perfume.
Whenever I end a relationship with a boy I always have to buy a new perfume due my to memory being so closely connected to my sense of smell. Some of my favorite scents have been ruined by this very thing! Flowerbomb? Ruined by a rapper. DKNY Golden Delicious? A cop. Burberry London? A Slovakian. It's time for Marc Jacobs Honey to walk that same lonely road to forgotten.
Getting passport photos taken.
It's a good thing I decided to just not do anything with my hair today.
Hunting for a new memoir.
I recently finished Her by Christa Parravani and I loved it, it's essentially a story of a girl (Christa...duh) who loses her twin sister after battle of depression and drugs and how she copes going from a bonded duo to a singular being. Memoirs are my absolute favorite type of book from light hearted more comedic ones (a'la Bossy Pants by Tina Fey) to the more intense and raw (a'la The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby).
Writing at least another 20 pages of my book.
It's a love hate thing. When it's 3am in the morning and I'm exhaustedly tired, I can type away like there is no tomorrow. When I'm wide awake, fed and happy? Crickets I tell you.
Things I'm probably going to end up doing-
Sitting here for the next couple of hours? Before relocating to possibly my bed, possibly my friends bed or possibly happy hour.
I'm the worst.
Night Blogging
Monday, April 7, 2014
Forever Naked, makeup-less and clutching wine (It's a small bottle, my head isn't the gigantic)
My ex-boyfriend calls me 'Munk....can we take a moment to appreciate why? Cheek bones of a chubby 3 year old.
Anyway.
So it's safe to say I well and truly fell off whatever kind of blog wagon I was on. Whoops. I wish I could say it was because I was off bull fighting or climbing mountains....but that would be an enormous lie. I was simply just feeling super un-witty and boring, which is super rare for me because I normally find myself utterly fabulous and hilarious....but alas, I didn't feel blog-y, drop it.
Something that did kind of make me very happy was seeing my chummy old pal Rachel a few days back for the first time in, I dunno, two centuries and the first thing she said was a) how hilarious I was and b) how much she was liking my blog. Life lesson chickens; These are the kind of people you need to keep around! Not only that but a kind stranger who happened to be looking for bloggers for his business (Even after I warned him I was a swearing alcoholic!) heard her talking about this little blog of mine, asked me if I was as amazing as she said (I said of course because duh!) and took down all my information. So, welcome kind stranger. I'm Jordyn. I'm a little flustered, I make some questionable choices, I cry at the drop of a hat, my grammar is atrocious, I laugh way too hard at really bad jokes and I like to think I'm a bit of an enigma, but really I'm just a bit of a hot mess.
Now that we are all acquainted, let us dive right in.
Something I've been thinking a lot about recently is the idea that life is short (deep wine thoughts, party of this girl). I think that is ridiculous.
Tell me one thing, you as an individual, experience that is longer than your life? I'll wait.
Now as we take a giant leap over religion, let us dance on over to the corner of the room where I am right.
We are constantly drilled with the idea of this ticking clock hung over our heads that forces us to race toward a career, dive into marriage, pop out some infants, love them through life and cool down in a rocking chair after the marathon we just sprinted through. Why the rush? We are putting deadlines on things that will happen whenever they happen. We are fighting for youth and syncing our hearts up with this racing clock that owns an alarm we fear more than any kind of mythical monster or beast.
We are writing off the every day moments: hilarious exchanges between coworkers, loving meals with friends, perfect weather.In reflection, the small little things that make up a life, and make us happy even if it's for .5 seconds, don't even cross our minds. Instead we are thinking about what we accomplished in a day, how much work we got done on a task or how we furthered ourself along our pathway....a pathway that ends where? a veiled unknown.
Little things make me exceptionally happy. A joke my brother made almost 4 years ago still makes me cry with laughter, a 3am conversation I had with a friend on a fire escape in late 2011 is still one of my most cherished moments...What good did they do for my future? Nothing. But they make me so happy right here, right now.
I remember talking with an old coworker a while back and she was complaining about how all she wanted to do was eat ice-cream but instead she was going to choke back a diet pill and go to the gym. Now I understand working out makes some people happy...but she hated it and was forcing herself to do it because she thought she needed to.Would she be happier if she was 100 pounds instead of 105? No, because she had it in her head that she always had to be working towards smaller and smaller so the number on the scale would never be satisfying. We want to live this life of no regrets but the moment we do something that goes against our plan, or skews us even slightly, we regret it. We set these goals that grow into monsters and that teamed with the idea of life being this blink-and-you-miss-it blur, leave us forever pining.
My Dad has always been very blasé about death. As a little baby who can't imagine ever feeling old enough to be without my parents, this used to upset me greatly (It still does! I can now just see where he is coming from, from a personal point of view.) Recently, whilst talking about how he was nearing the age when his mother passed, my mind had this moment of understanding and all those years of taking his attitude as indifference suddenly made it read more as a feeling of being content. It's not that he didn't care about dying, it's just that he had accepted it is a thing that we all encounter and instead of fearing it, he brushed it off with an, "it's not my time yet" attitude and went about living. Playing golf as much as possible, relishing in the beauty of a Friday afternoon, buying useless power tools to affectionately name and adore and sustain himself on a diet made up mainly of steak, sausages and fries, because why waste time on foods you don't like eating. I've never met a person who was more adamant about filling their days with the simple things that made them happy, even if it was ridiculous things like not allowing food to touch on a plate or never eating a fry with any kind of beauty mark upon it's perfect potato-y surface. I respect that (Also I've noticed these last few are heavily food related...I'm super hungry...my bad).
Our buzzer could sound tomorrow morning, and tonight instead of being happy in the right now we are longing for the next. The saddest part is that the things we force ourselves to regret are the fun things! Cake is amazing, skipping work for adventures or stupidity is fun sometimes....do that stuff. Sprinkle in a few bad boys and life is good, man.
Sure, I have dreams and aspirations but they aren't going to break me if I fail to meet up with them along the way. My end goal is right now. I could get struck by lightning or my heart could simply stop beating in one hour and that would be that. I wouldn't have regret because that was what I was dealt, and the good parts of the day, those that are happening as we speak and the moments I reflect on with fondness were utterly amazing and that is what's important.
What you have should always be more important than what you want.
Oh look my wines all gone.
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