#lifefacts

Many things in life are a given: Every day the sun will rise in the east, rum and ginger beer will always be the ultimate duo, an offering of burritos should always be accepted with a smile and it will always be absolutely impossible to keep a pack of drunk girls out of a photo booth.

Tune in next time for more words of wisdom from me...

...Jordan Turner...

...life guru.

Monday Man.

Tonight I had a momentary lapse of judgement.

I'm not sure what came over me, one minute I was binge watching Law and Order and the next minute I was scrolling through Reformation before my world went black. It felt like only a second and I'm not sure how it happened but suddenly I was awoken from my daze by my phone lighting up across the room, confirmation emails displayed across the screen as hundreds of dollars seeped out of my bank account....

I'm weak. 

Online shopping, you will be the death of me.

Life is a mess.

I would like to start this post with a personal apology to all those people who are irritated with a humans inability to properly film with an iPhone. I am one of those humans. I have not mastered the art of turning my phone sideways to properly capture the random snippets of generally drunken life that I think deserve to be caught on film. I apologize.

And with that I present to you....a bunch of random clips I found in my video folder on my phone #Imaproblogger.

Fact #1: I'm quick to punch a bitch in the vergina.

Fact #2: I love chicken mcnuggets.

Fact #3: I love Alex.

Fact #4: I'm so accustomed to sibling abuse that I don't even challenge it anymore, just simply ask for some warning so I can put my food down first. 

Fact #5: Getting sunburnt is a great form of weightloss because sometimes it causes you to shed 45 pounds of skin. 

Fact #6: I have a very predominant chicken pox scar I mean look at that thing.

Fact #7: Equality! *Intro to Time of Your Life starts playing*

Fact #8: I'm in an abusive siblingship with my brother. Send Help. 

Fact #9: I love Melanie because she shares my passion for listening to disney music when she thinks nobody is around.

Fact #10: It's important to stay humble and take time out of your day to thank the fans.

Fact #11: New Zealand sheep are cleaner than American sheep.

Fact #12: I can't fit a lot of cheese balls in my mouth.

Fact #13: Peace is everything.

Fact #14: I'm not listening when you speak because I'm too busy staring at my reflection.

Throwback Thursday

TBT: To that time in my life where I wanted to dress like Wednesday Adams...but not really and only a little bit.

 TBT: When we got really drunk on Strawberita's, got kicked out of a lesbian bar and walked across Manhattan to drink Mike's Hard on a strangers roof.

 TBT: To that time my family had one of our traditional picnics on the floor of a sketchy hotel in Auckland, New Zealand. 

TBT: To Dallas BBQ's....always a mistake.

TBT: To every single night out that ends with me taking reflective selfies in the bathroom....how did I get here? Who am I? What am I doing with my life?

TBT: To standing in the hot sun in ugly robes melting away and inwardly freaking out that high school was about to be a thing of the past.

TBT: To one of our many summer trips to Old Orchard Beach 2011-2014.

TBT: To that trusty book of crosswords we worked on for weeks...this was the final page....we did a lot of school work during high school as you can tell.

TBT: To starting 2015 the only way I know how with New York City, double chins and feathers. 

Change is a good thing.

Do you ever wonder what you are going to be remembered for? Were you loud or unequivocally friendly? Unbelievably shy or extremely tenacious? I've slowly come to accept that at this rate, one of my traits is going to definitely reign supreme when people remember my life...

I'm a professional flake.

Now I want to preface this by saying that my flakiness is most certainly unintentional (well...most of the time.) I've come to notice that I'm simply someone who has a lot going on, or I get hungry and forget my plans...or I fall asleep and nap right through them or like...maybe butterfly flutters by and I wander off in search of it. It could be down to a number of reasons but when you reach a point in your life where people just expect you to not show up, maybe it's time to change. So I've decided to make a list of five things I genuinely, wholeheartedly promise to improve on!

Now obviously the first thing on the list is my flakiness. I don't want to be that friend that leaves someone sitting at a bar for an hour waiting for me, or who opens their phone to 45 angry text messages and 3 strongly worded voicemails. But I'll even do you one better...

2) I promise to make an effort to make plans. This has been an issue my entire life, when it comes to reaching out, I'm pretty crap. I've always been that friend who bobs along to the beat of my friends drum. I love spending time by myself, doing my own thing, so when I don't have plans I'm generally quite content to go about my business. I've come to realize that this isn't always fair to those around me. It shouldn't always be up to others to make the first call,sometimes I should be the one to reach out first.

3) I promise to not order from Seamless more than twice a week! Now for those who know me, this is a huge deal! As previously documented, I've been trying to teach myself how to cook and to say it has been a mission is quite an understatement. More often than not, I'll end my cooking venture annoyed and frustrated and a short 30 minutes later my Seamless order arrives, cooked food in the trash and money wasted.

4) Push myself a little more. I've noticed that I'm the kind of person that falls into a routine very easily. I get comfortable doing the same thing with the same people, going to a job I don't necessarily love and rotating back around to do it again. I am moving to California very shortly, and this one is more of a goal for when this happens but why start then when I can start right now. I want to promise myself to try things that I am interested in and follow those trials through. For example I started doing barre classes a while back and loved it, but a few weeks later I stopped going and my interest had faded away, why? Because I get lazy and comfortable. I want to snap out of this habit. I want to take my interests and follow them through, with no real destination in mind. I want to be a person who has true hobbies and things they enjoy other than taking naps, going to brunch and eating Mexican food while checking out dads.

5)Organize my life. My entire life I have always been a very organized person trapped inside the body of a complete mess. I've always wanted to be that person who had it all together, the person who had 3 smaller bags insider their big bag to compartmentalize their life....instead I'm the person who shoves it all in a pile and hopes for the best. The worst part is, when I keep a tidy apartment and try and stick to a schedule I actually feel 20x better. So that is my final resolution, to find order in all of my madness.

...ughhh.....

......wish me luck.

Music Monday #1

           
Let's play a random game, I like to call "Song's I've been listening to a lot recently, posted on a Monday so I can use the completely original title of Music Monday"

          
                                           

Slightly odd fact about myself, 90's Silverchair are one of my favorite bands...ever. I grew up listening to Silverchair through my bedroom wall as it blared out of my brothers speakers and at the time I definitely wasn't feeling it at all. I was right in the middle of Spice Girls-mania so of course my only opinion of them was a)they weren't the Spice Girls b) Ohhhh Sam stuck that Neon Ballroom sticker on his bedroom door, Mum is going to get so mad and c) The video for Anthem of the Year 2000 gave me legitimate nightmares. It wasn't until way later when I was 16 or 17 that I even started listening to them properly, and by that point they had long moved away from their grunge roots but alas, I was in love.
                                           

Continuing the trend of random facts, when I was a Senior in high school I went through a deep obsession with this song. I have no idea why or where it came from, but listening to it now brings me right back to driving around with an old boyfriend belting it out at the top of my 17 year old lungs. I also loved it because whenever I used to sing it (which was always) it used to really piss my mum off because she hated the song...and I got some joy out of that too.

                                            

Aaaand just to spice things up....Another one of my favorite artists! (are you seeing a trend?) I first heard Frank Turner whilst streaming a random BBC radio station (fun fact: UK radio is far superior to US radio) in my room one Sunday while I did a random science report on Brook Trout (I have a really good memory..incase you were wondering.) A little while later when I finally got my license, I found a copy of Love Ire & Song in my brothers old bedroom and for a good year it was the only CD in my car and I listened to it over and over and over and over.....



                                           

Last night I couldn't sleep so I literally lay in bed all night listening to Ryan Adams cover of the entire 1989 album on repeat. I honestly think Taylor Swift is amazing in every possible way (let's be friends?) and an entire album inspired by Harry Styles is something I can get behind all day, add Ryan Adams and I'm there forever.

                                          

Dream a Little Dream of Me is quite possibly my favourite song in the entire world. I think I realized this when I was randomly googling my queen Doris Day (or should I say one of my queens....I haven't forgotten you Julie Andrews!) and found her cover and fell into a spiral. It's one of those songs that has been covered by everybody and their Mamas (get it? The Mamas & the Papas? I'll excuse myself) but no matter what version I hear it in, I love it...always and listen to it....always.

                                        

Do you ever have those songs that you listen to and it automatically brings you back to an exact time and place? This is that song for me. A few years ago, I became obsessed with this song to the point where it never left my ears for more than an hour. The addiction was so strong that every Friday night whilst my friends and I all gathered on my exboyfriends terrace to drink and be merry, I would insist this song played on repeat until the moment the iPod was physically torn out of my clenched fist and the song was changed, much to my displeasure.

                                      

.....I just love John Legend....that's basically all there is to that....I also love songs both by and featuring Kanye West in the mid-2000's. I'm not sure when I noticed this specific fact but I think it was when I realized I also really liked his feature on Number One (....the Pharrell song....not this song...obviously) so much so that I told Pharrell that to his face one time #truestory

                                     

So this song comes with a story. When I was around 6 or 7, I was in the car with my step mum and this song came on. Simple enough story, except at the time I obviously had no idea what the song was and all I remembered after it had ended was a few key lines she kept singing whilst tapping away at the steering wheel, most specifically"hop on the bus Gus". For years (I'm talking 15 of them) I would sing this melody and few random lines over and over and over again in my head. The song was literally in my head for over a decade, but I never once thought to actually look it up and I didn't remember ever hearing it again. Earlier this year though, I was at dinner with my Mum and brother and I randomly started singing about Gus and his escape vehicle when my Mum turned and quizzed  me, "Ooohh who sings that song?" I shrugged because even after all these years I had no idea."Paul Simon-" "50 ways to leave your lover" my brother finished and after 15 years I finally had an answer.

A person is a person, no matter how small.

It's 1am on a Monday morning and my mind wouldn't shut off, so I'm writing you this through heavily lidded, tired eyes with a sleepy brain. I apologize, even before I begin, for the poorly worded ramble that is about to commence but I'm tired in more than just the physical sense. I'm mentally exhausted with the hatred that lives within some people and so in an attempt to relieve my mind from the constant mental asskicking I present to you...

Reasons why Jordyn can't sleep tonight: Shitty People Edition

1) Donald Trump

When I heard Donald Trump was running for office, I laughed. I laughed because I thought everybody would laugh along with me and within a few short days he would have packed up his lawn signs and went back to Trump Tower to count his billions. I have since stopped laughing. 

What disturbs me about Donald Trump's campaign is the validity he has brought to every ignorant, hate-filled, racist person that lives within this world. He has told them, that they are not alone in their backward thinking and suddenly their feelings are ok. 

2)Nicole Arbour/ "Dear Fat People"

I am late to this party. While most people were showing outrage at the "Dear Fat People" video uploaded to Youtube a week ago, I wasn't even wasting my time in watching it, for I knew the title had told me enough. After a few days I finally looked it up and the result was as predicted, it bummed me out.

I found the video uncomfortable to watch because not only was it just an awkward attempt at humor, it was also simply an unnecessary attack on other people shielded by a premise of concern. I'm not the PC police, I do feel the world can be a little tightly wound sometimes but this really got under my skin.

It was simple hatred in video form, beating other people down in an attempt to gain viewership. I googled the girl responsible and found out that she was in her 30's, not a dumb teenager with too much time and opinion...a grown ass woman. 

3)Seth Rogens Twitter

I'm not sure how exactly I ended up here but earlier in the week I had noticed Seth Rogen retweeting a lot of the hatred he was getting. I'm not sure what exactly he said, if anything at all, to gain this hatred and honestly it's not these comments that drill into my core so deeply. It's the reaffirmation that these people exist, and they exist in force.  I scrolled through twitter after twitter and read for hours the things people were saying. Throwing names at people they had never met, debating about issues and topics they didn't know anything about, and simply just being shitty people with shitty opinions and ideas.

I once read a quote that made me happy, a quote about each generation becoming more and more tolerant but right now I'm not sure it's true. Right now it seems as if for every Mother Teresa that sprouts amongst us, 5 more Donald Trumps shift to block them from the sun.

It's late and I'm tired, but with this final sigh I must finish this post in the light with one simple note, be a good fucking person and when in doubt summon your inner Malala Yousafzai, that young girl got shot in her fucking skull, and she still had no hatred in her heart for the man who did it...so what exactly is your excuse?

Lifestyles of the Young and the Hopeless.

Jordyn Turner reporting live from her robe.

I just spent the last 35 minutes burning brown rice, why I bought anything other than instant is beyond me....learned that lesson pretty quickly.

I have nothing to report, I just wanted to let everybody know I'm drinking wine in my robe and I'm still going to most certainly die in a kitchen related fire in the near future.

Happy Monday!

Know your worth.

Current Mood:

Let me quickly preface this post with one simply fact about myself. If you make a statement that I don't agree with I need to open the discussion. I'm not a nod and inwardly shake my head kind of person, I'm a grade-A-hey-explain-that-dumbass-thought-to-me-please type of girl.

The other day for example a friend of mine made a comment about another woman's shorts being too slutty.  This lead us down a long road full of pitstops including, "it's her fault if a guy comes up and touches her" and "No, I'm not a feminist....far from it" which ended at our final destination of "what about men? I'm a meninist!"

By this point I had paced the length of 54 football fields and started aggressively clapping every word I spoke. Even as I write this in reflection I can't get my thoughts clear as this very topic enrages me to my core.

The base of this entire post is to make one singular point so let us start there.

Feminism.

The very definition of feminism is the equality of the sexes.

If you are a human (female or otherwise) and you don't consider yourself a feminist, I can't associate myself with you. To simplify this further, if you are a female and don't consider yourself equal to any man on the street, I can't be near someone who doesn't value who they are as a person, and if you are a man who doesn't consider me his equal, well something suddenly came up that involves me being far away from you.

It's a pretty simply idea, and one I'm unapologetically unwavering on. I'm not saying we should all burn our bras and punch every man in the face for fun, I'm simply saying, know your worth and don't expect anything less.

To not consider yourself a feminist when we live in a world where a strong man is labeled a boss, where a strong female is labeled a bitch and where a promiscuous man is a pimp, and a promiscuous female is a slut will never be something I can accept.

Know your worth.

Bloom where you're planted.

Recently I found myself reading one of those overly cliche articles about New York...a battle of new and old, the age long debate about being a "true New Yorker". Now to preface this a little, I am Australian and was raised for the majority in Western Australia.

(Yes we are wearing beanies and coats....it was probably like 21 degrees/70 degrees Fahrenheit....Western Australian winters are hard)

I am very proud of where I come from and even though I am not an American citizen, New York is my current home and after many years of hearing constant rumblings of the essence of a New Yorker, I became curious as to what people consider the qualities of a "true New Yorker." I know for myself if you didn't grow up watching Round the Twist on a rainy day in primary school or burning the shit out of your feet on a hot January day running into the shops barefoot (No shirt, no shoes...no problem!)  are you really Australian?

But what did these all-knowing New Yorkers deem the qualities it takes to be considered one of their own? Well lucky for us Time Out New York complied a handy dandy bucket list to try and help us foreign schleps out!

According to Time Out, to be a true New York one must....

Buy a Dollar Slice at 4am
Great start! I do this often although I don't buy it because I want to be a New Yorker...I buy it because cheap, drunk and pizza.

Cry in the Street
Another +1! This is going great. Also, 2011 was a rough time in my life.

Steak out at Peter Luger
By this point I am throwing intense side eye at what kind of New Yorker wrote this list...I feel like New Yorkers shit on Peter Luger as being too mainstream and rave about some bullshit hole in the wall nobody has every heard of but alas, I have been to Peter Luger so I am currently crushing this assessment. 

Walk the Brooklyn Bridge at Sunrise
I'm counting this because I've walked both the Triboro and Roosevelt Island Bridge at sunrise and that's far more hipster and therefore more New York.

Smell Garbage and think summer
I smell garbage and think, wow I wish someone would move that garbage...is that close enough?

Nab Rolls from a Bakery before it opens
I'm now convinced the writer of this article is not only not from New York, but could also potentially be an alley cat...

Make out in a cab
Of course I've done this but I think it is less about the true New Yorker in me and more about being in your 20's and a perpetual mess. 

Complain about how everyone flakes here, then become a flaker.
I am THE flaker...is that a New York thing? Do I have another excuse to blame this horrible quality on? Success. 

Walk by a celeb without doing a double take
I walked by Sienna Miller yesterday and didn't do a double take...ok that is also because I didn't recognize her until 4 blocks too late but hey....check me out I hang out near Sienna Miller, I'm cool.

Attend an art opening and guzzle free booze
By this point I'm almost certain the writer got confused and started writing a list of how to be 18 year old Jordyn.

Be inconvenienced by a film or TV shoot
Correction: Walk nonchalantly in the background trying to get discovered and made into a movie star....It's called making moves people! 

Head to Staten Island
I got drunk there once

Swim in the Ocean?!?!

Ok that's it, as an Australian this offends me. I can't go any further with this bologna list. Yes, New York you know how to hot dog and your stench game is top notch but I refuse to associate you with any sort of ocean activities.

What I learned from this list is that....well....if eating bread in the wee hours of the morning before casually strolling across famous infastructure is more important than my hectic sleep schedule I guess I will remain #proudlyfromanywhereelse.

Time is money....Time is of the essence....Time is drunk and needs to take a seat.

I'm forever jealous of those people surfing through their early 20's with ease. Who are you mutants? Where did you come from? Are they accepting new applicants? I would love to apply to whatever cult it was, I will gladly drink that Koolaid.

I just realized that I've started to wander down a path in the this blog post I don't want to go down. A path that leads to a 500 word ramble about confusion and direction, when in all actuality I have plenty of one and not much of the other and for once the scale tips in my favour. I am currently confusion-less (actually that is a lie, I am still very confused as to how boys wear skinny jeans without their boxer/briefs/mankini getting all bundled up, but that is for a different post). I know what I want, or at least I know the correct route to take.

If you are an avid reader (aka if you are my mum) you will know I had planned on being in Los Angeles by this point in time, instead I am writing this from sweltering New York City and for once I can say this is out of choice (and let's be honest there are worse places to be.) The Dordyline of yesteryear (ok, yesterday) would have wrote a scathing rant on the perils of being stagnant. The new and improved self is looking at the glass half full of opportunity (and Pinot Grigio.)

Over the last few weeks, I have learned to accept that time is not flying by as fast as I may feel sometimes, yet it is not frozen like it can seem. I can't let it pass me by, but I can't hyperventilate my way through it either. Things happen when they happen, that great opportunity left to make way for something better and hustling is paramount to success.

I will make things happen and that I'm sure of, but they wouldn't happen in the next three seconds no matter how hard I click my heels and this is the most refreshing epiphany I've had in a long time. 

Tune in next time for another episode of You've got this Girl written by a tipsy 22 year old who is really good at stumbling in the right direction. Now if you would please excuse me I have apples to smother in peanut butter and apartments to google. 

Oh Guy Fieri.

Recently I've been watching a lot of Guy's Grocery Games. It was discovered one hungover Sunday, and now I can't control it. Guy Fieri curse you and your addictive, three lettered, hunger inspiring tales. 

"Sorry I really can't stay long I have plans..." I exclaim mysteriously as my friends accuse me of some torrid affair....little do they know...JT +GF= 4EVA.

It's a really horrible addiction I'm forced to balance with my overcrowded work schedule, obsessive friends and strong desire to spend hours looking at puppies online...

It's a really hectic schedule, made only increasingly more difficult by the fact that I'm aging rapidly (it's my birthday next week....so about those puppies...I like Great Danes...) and can no longer fight off sickness, hangovers or sleep deprivation like I used to. Which results in plenty of painful mornings and....well....these kind of texts...

Old age isn't cute.

Oh and how is the cooking going I hear you ask?

Let's just not talk about it...

Different, yet exactly the same.

(In honor of being 12)

2005

When a cranky eight year old Jordyn used to complain about being so tiny, she was told to not be sad at what she was because time would go so quickly. Two blinks later she would be all grown up.

A few weeks ago I gathered with some of my longest friends. It's an odd statement to make, because I could of sworn it was just yesterday we were introduced, yet here we were ten blinks later. We used to spend every day together, just silly 11 year olds who spoke with the voice of false experience. We had our snow globe life completely figured out, before swiftly throwing it up into the air and having it come down with a crack.

We all left that snow globe; leaking out in different directions, towards different cities and down different paths. Months upon months would swirl by in our new worlds but every year we would make it a mission to reassemble in one form or another. 

This time it was different.

We weren't simply hanging out to reminisce and reconnect, we were gathering at the beginning stages of each others next step. To celebrate graduation and change, we were linking arms to pull each other on to our next chapters.

Moving abroad or across the country, going to law school, or jumping feet first into a bonafide big girl career in the big city...we were all taking steps towards our next phase. 

As I drove away that day, slightly (very...) pink from the sun and full of happy memory, I thought of those little girls we once were, bigger than our boots and over confident on life, speaking of the future as if it was forever away.  Now we were so much different, yet exactly the same. Those same young girls but now we had confidence by the hands of experience, closeness by the hands of the past and opportunity by the hands of all we were. 

and I can't wait to see what comes next.

Back on the wagon.

Not dead.

So for some odd reason toady saw an influx of traffic to this little site of mine and I thought I ought to let it shine. It's been four whole months since my last post so I'm not entirely sure why yesterday caused so many of you to stop by, and in all actuality it could have been my Mum simply refreshing the page a million times, who really knows.

But alas, I felt the need to update.

Once upon a time my biggest struggle in life was finding the perfect balance between staying out until 4am, while at the same time being able to make it through the work week. I was young, I was fun, I was exhausted. I've now traded in those struggles. My 7 day a week party schedule has traded to that of 2 at most, and now my biggest struggle is teaching myself how to freaking cook. Still young, not fun, more exhausted.

What I have learned so far is that cooking is hard and adulthood is a myth.

So yes, this is why I haven't been writing. I've been too busy setting off my smoke alarm and eating really awful sweet potatoes.

I'll try and do better.

#Iusedtobefun

Anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be, a pleasure cruise.

It's 3:05am on a Friday night and I'm laying in my bed...alone...pondering.

I've lived in New York for years now, and that alone is very hard to comprehend.

What happened to 2011?

Most of my time here was a blur.

A blur of alcohol and nights. I spent months dedicated to different people, yet in reflection they seem no longer than the blink of an eye.

New York is weird....or at least my New York is weird.

Being here doesn't feel like life.

My day to day doesn't exist.

Living here is like fake living, and the days seem to pass much quicker.

You don't have time to be, because you are always going with no end goal.

When I first moved here I worked nights, and followed up all shifts with alcohol.

I don't think I even saw daylight for months on end.

New York broke me in a way.

Many ways.

I've reached a point now where I am unhappy surrounded by it.

Unhappy with the same people, places and things, always, everywhere.

So I avoid being surrounded by it.

Today I woke up at 10am and forced myself to go back to sleep so I would have less time to kill.

That isn't living.

In the past these feelings would force me into a relationship.

Another way to kill some time.

Killing time so one day I can wake up at 52, wondering where all my years went.

The truth is, I'm full of talk.

One minutes I'm moving to California.

The next I'm going home to Australia.

A few more fleeting moments and I'm back in New York forever.

Last year I went home to visit my Mum 4 months in a row to get away from this place.

And I cried every night before I had to return.

I'm unhappy and anxious here....always.

Which is why I'm leaving.

The how doesn't even matter.

Simply the where.

So bring me a map on a cork board and a lucky dart and I'll figure the rest out later.

Write a letter that you will never send.

Wednesdays.

WhAt Is A bLoG?

 Everybody and their mothers has been messaging me today about plans for tonight...like who hurt these people? Do they not know it is freezing outside? Stay indoors, read a book.

I think maybe I've been doing too much of that considering I'm drawing a blank as to what is actually been going on...I mean Valentines happened. I spent majority of the day standing outside of a Methadone clinic in the snow handing out Valentines to strangers, not even the cute European tourist who offered me a kiss could make that task even remotely pleasant.

 I then made my day even worse by hanging out with a rapper...not my rapping ex....or the rapper I hung out with to make said rapping ex mad.....a different rapper....as someone who doesn't believe in having a "type" I'm starting to really eat my own words...

(Just kidding...unless Harry Styles becomes a rapper...in that case, yes rappers are my type)

(Say rapper one more time, idiot)

But hey, it wasn't all negative!

As a pre-diagnosed cold hearted asshole, I'm not big on the love....but I fuck with the candy and cupcakes involved...(also, did you know there is now a #love sweetheart? like what kind of 21st century tomfoolery is this? dumb.)

I've come to realize I've now lost all blogging ability...

I simply ramble some words, chuck in a few ill placed and often exaggerated ellipsis, litter it with a few awful pictures I randomly found in the black hole of my iPhone camera and call it a blog.

I've lost my touch.

RIP me.

Help!

 I've recently become obsessed with the The Beatles. The music has always been appreciated simply because I have ears and I think the rest is history, but as of late I've become more and more fascinated with the men behind it.

It all stemmed from a dream I had, and somehow melted in to me just watching documentary after documentary, interview after interview. It's quite sad really as it has kind of cut into my Harry Styles obsession but hey there is plenty of crazy to go around!

The last interview I watched was a recent interview with Ringo Starr, where he basically spoke for ten minutes about how he really is the luckiest person in the world. It's no secret that he was far from the best drummer in the world, yet it's what he loved and it's what he got to spend his entire life doing. He spoke about being a musician and thanked his lucky stars (pun intended) that he gets to call it a career for he has never truly had to work a day in his life.

I want that.

Well I mean...not the drumming or the fame...but the obsession, the love of ones job. I want to love something so much that it doesn't feel like work. I don't want to choose whether I live to work or work to live, I don't want it to matter because I want my work to be a part of me as cliche as it seems.

I could watch JK Rowling talk about Harry Potter all day. She loves what she has created, she knows every single facet. She is obsessed.

I want to be obsessed.

Even on the mundane level, even if my love is something as simple as working in an office for the rest of my life, I want to find it.

I like my job right now, but it's simply a stepping stone on cobbled path and I'm dying to get to the destination.

I know they say you shouldn't wish your life away, but if we could speed up the discovery, or at least give me some kind of road map on how to get there my deepening frown lines and frustrated tear ducts would really appreciate the break.

21 is hard.

The most interesting woman in the world.

Is it too cliche to complain about winter?

Because I am really at my breaking point with winter.

I'm ready to regain feeling in my extremities, and the perpetual hot mess in me is extremely ready for the sidewalks to be something other than giant slabs of ice for me to bust face on. I could continue for days, nitpicking ever minor detail of winter I dislike....but I'll save you the time...to be fair, winter isn't my only concern.

Weather in New York is the worst.

Sure, those few short weeks of fall and spring are quite lovely...but for 87% of the year, the weather is quite awful. Too hot and crowded or too cold and well....hellish.

You can't win them all it seems, New York has many wonderful things but alas, weather will never be one of them.

My dad constantly tells me that when all you can talk about is the weather you have a problem, it's the default small talk so with that in mind I must quickly segue away.

I'm way too interesting to be talking about the weather...

I bought a coloring book the other day...

Don't judge me! I've been dealing with a lot of indoor snow storm time....aaaaand we are back on the weather.

Ok fine, the word "interesting" is relative.

Haters.