A mans world.

Donald Trump is not my President....because I don't live in the US anymore.

In 2016 I was still based in New York and was right near Trump Tower when the results came in.

As soon as it was confirmed it was as if people sprouted from the concrete in immediate protest. Although there was anger in the air, the underlying feeling was almost disbelief that somehow the butt of the joke had pulled it off.

Somehow though, this time feels sadder.

It's been 8 years, and in that time this man has taken every opportunity to show the ugliness that lives inside him. At first you think, hmm maybe he is in on the joke? Over inflating his ego for comedic effect? Is it a bit? A poorly thought out character? Then the phrase "when someone shows you who they are, believe them" snaps you out of the confused haze and you realize, oh no...this is no act, this is an egomaniac, gassed up and self serving to his core. The world lays beneath him and as long as he is on top, he doesn't care what state it rots in.

Somehow we ended up here again.

To strip back political parties, red and blue, at it's core we were at the crossroads between decent and disgust and we veered swiftly into the swamp. 

There will always be differing opinions, different beliefs and ideals but there are also good humans and bad humans. There are people who work hard and are empathetic to those around them, people who have compassion and those who don't. There are people who have been given everything they have, and expect more, who spit the dummy when things don't go their way, and respond with hatred at every possible turn.

There are people with experience in spades, and people who have bluffed their way to the top.

That is what truly scares me.

An arrogant, entitled man showing the world that nothing has changed. That you can be a narcissistic asshole, never stopping for even a nanosecond to think of anybody else, and people will adorn your name and push power into your hands. With ego your only compass, forging forward, sneering and showing other young egomaniacs how the world still belongs to them.

Young girls wake again to see another highly qualified woman be denied her chance to try.

My heart genuinely hurts for those robbed of the opportunity for a glimpse of hope. Young girls who have to listen to the men in their life jeer and boast about Donald Trump and all he represents. Who have to accept the fact that an under qualified felon is somehow a more acceptable choice than a highly qualified woman. That compassion and empathy are not characteristics we expect from those entrusted to lead. 

Things on my mind lately.

• My dogs chronic ear infections. 
• How it's possible to have I love you, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams literally rolling in a constant loop in my brain 24/7. To top it off, it's all because I saw a Tiktok of a girl figure skating to it and twirling around all majestically and I thought to myself, that seems like a euphoric feeling, maybe I should learn to ice skate and twirl around.
• My inability to love
• How fun girlhood is. It's truly so fun. 
• How much I love knowing random interests and hobbies about my friends and family...truly, like please let me see your Spotify wrapped, tell me all your secrets! Who is your weird celebrity crush? What weird shit did you do as a child? I have to know! 
• Nancy Meyers home decor.
• If I really fell asleep at the head spa the other week or if I was just uber zen and if I was asleep how long was I out for, and did I chat to myself as I do notoriously talk in my sleep.
•  How I deeply love how content I am in myself and my life but yet can't help but wonder if I was a bit more driven, motivated or even insecure in myself if I would have pushed for more, like sure content is very stress free and pleasant but is it secretly the thief of like....utter joy? I am mostly happy, but click your heels together, overwhelming love and joy? I don't think I know her.
• How I really wanted to decorate my house for Halloween but at the same time...it's Spring. I have flowers coming out of my ears at the moment, but it feels chaotic to throw in some pumpkins when it's not even fall? 
• Where the hell my scissors went?
• How I don't think I have ever, even for a moment, not treated myself. Even when I was 18, and my paycheck did not even cover my rent, I would eat a Whatchamacallit on my walk home from work at 1am, partially in an effort to not pass out due to lack of food, but primarily because I always deserve a little treat at all times, also the world, I deserve that too.
• Where my phone went after I woke up with a concussion after our house party in 2013...did I actually throw it out the window? Also what photos were on that thing, I would love to know! I was always very drunk and messy at that time so it probably held some gold!
• How if I could dress like any singular person in my day to day life it would be the flashy girl from Flushing.
• Secondary thought to above, I was always weirdly attracted to Ray Romano, so maybe I'm destined to be in Queens (ignoring the fact that I did live there when I was 18...would be a bummer if I failed at my destiny at such a young age!)

October.

 

10 points if you can tell the day I thought I was going to pass away…..it’s a tricky one!

Music Monday XXIII

Childhood Revisted

 

In case you are new here, I was raised in Perth, Western Australia. You wouldn't be faulted for not knowing this fact as I have lived in many cities around the world, in fact if you wanted to get technical I claim two very different hometowns, one the aforementioned city by the Indian Ocean and the other snowy little village in rural New England. I spent my formative years in both, but alas this post is about Perth.

I haven't been back to this street I grew up on in 16 years...over half my life I have been away. My first thought when I went back was how small it felt. What a cliche, I know, but in my memories these streets were vast and wide. These streets held pretty much my entire early childhood. I used to ride my bike around them day dreaming, I delivered newspapers every single Tuesday and Thursday to each letterbox, my childhood soulmate of a friend and next-door neighbor since the age of 3 and I would annually wander around and sell chocolates to fundraise for our brothers football teams (our favourite house of course being the elderly lady who lived behind me and who, although she couldn't eat chocolate, would purchase a box for us to have instead. We would start there and then happily snack on Maltesers as we went door to door for the entire afternoon.)

From the age of 6 or so, my older brother would walk me to school and we would have arguments about this spare piece of land down the laneway from our house. It was by far the quickest way to the school but was for sure home to some snakes I didn't want to encounter, yet he would often insist I suck it up and we gross the spare land to school Somedays I would protest and insist on walking through the long way instead. I have vivid memories of sprinting up the hill to cut through the alley way, my backpack slapping against my body to ensure I beat him there insisting it didn't take that much longer, arriving to the meeting spot out of breath, to an unbothered Sam, never conceding to my route requests.

I dragged Dan from pillar to post, or laneway to laneway, in each direction, rattling off stories about how many hours I spent in them because they were the spots where my friends and I would split off on our walks home from school so evidently we would linger there finishing up our chats before going our separate ways.

I stood in the middle of the street outside my home in the rain, and instantly remembered the time my childhood best friend and I on a 9 year old hyperactive high both ran around in the rain playing some hybrid duck duck goose game we affectionally labelled plum pudding. It basically involved us running around the cul-de-sac in the downpour saying duck, duck, duck.... before yelling plum pudding and running in circles cracking up at god knows what and ended rather abruptly with my Mum yelling at us to get inside. We then changed out of our drenched school uniforms into my brothers old oversized hoodies before laying around watching Lizzie McGuire in the lounge.

It was lovely to see it's only sole remaining resident from my time there, Marilyn. Marilyn lived next door to me and in the only house on the street that wasn't occupied by children (Although she did have a granddaughter, Amy, who would visit sometimes and play with me in the front yard. I even passed along all my Barbies to her one day in a moment of selflessness that I regretted almost instantly.) Marilyn would spend many an afternoons chatting to me as I hung out in the front yard, encouraged me to play on her lawn as my front yard was all brick and she had the perfect "What's the time Mr. Wolf?" tree, she knitted everyone in the street scarves, gave us gifts when we drew her pictures and once invited us around to swim in her pool as it was warmer than ours leaving my Mum very confused as she looked into our garden to the sounds of us yelling and splashing away but didn't see us in the pool as expected, popping her head over the fence in confusion to us hangin' with Marilyn instead.

This street means a lot to me...or I guess, it did. Going back felt like closing a chapter I didn't even realize was still open. As we drove away from it, to the hugely different Perth surrounds I turned to Dan to declare I don't think I need to come back. Is it cheesy to say I felt like I had said goodbye? I think in the original moment when you move away from somewhere so important it's hard to view the move as permanent. I remember when I had driven away from it previously as a child, I couldn't get over the fact that I would never shower in that home again. Oddly that was what I couldn't get over. Suuuuurely I would be back soon, I decided, somehow mentally ignoring the "Sold" sign wedged into the dirt. On that original departure, I scanned the surrounds as we drove out, the cars of longtime neighbors, the signs of familiarity of homes filled with people I knew and had such strong memories with. Now though, those homes are just houses. All the people, besides Marilyn, had left. The children are grown and some had children of their own in their own cul-de-sacs.  As I left now, I felt oddly content that this place lived in the past and although happy to see it, a sense of attachment had since detached.

After my little nostalgia tour, we began our actual holiday. Hopping a ferry to Rottnest Island, also a place of my childhood, but so far back the memories are nonexistent so instead I was free to create new ones.  

Which I swiftly did, like using my E-bike wrong even after I insisted on the tutorial or it's chain completely falling off as I flew down a hill or swiftly getting my linen pants caught on the handlebars as I swung my leg over so I faceplanted into the concrete as Dan absolutely pissed himself. 

Peep the bruises, and ask yourself did she go on vacation or to battle?

We spent three days cycling around the bays, as I waffled on about my deep love for the Indian Ocean. 

Dan insisted on doing the entire island loop. I insisted on not doing that and instead rode for a few hours before parking my ass in the sand to read my book and eat fresh fruit and chips and guac.

We got up early to ride around whilst the island slept and before ferry's full of day visitors arrived.

I failed at taking a Quokka selfie, in fact I failed at taking any good picture of them at all. Quokkas famously smile....but not for me! Every single one I tried to snap looked like it was plotting my imminent death.

Like...are you all talking poorly about me? Why do you all hate me so much?

The quokkas have no enemies on the island (except now me....and every single shop keeper apparently!)

So they roam everywhere like little celebrities always surrounded by tourists flopped down on their bellies like a hoard of eager paparazzo's. It's a tough life being adored I guess!

All in all, a fab little trip west. As our ferry bobbed away I insisted we return soon, scrolling through my calendar for dates.

Side Note: We stayed at the Samphire and it was fab. My parents are big fans of self contained accommodation and I personally think that shit is a living nightmare. If I wanted to contain my own space I would have stayed at home, When I travel I want a pillow menu, an overpriced mini bar I will raid at midnight and copious amounts of room, thank you so kindly.  

Septembers over and we are wakin' up!

Hello my fellow fashion models. 

I call this photo, a slow burning breakdown. which I'm unhappy to report was my entire vibe for September 2024.

When I lived in the US, specifically when I was North-East based, October was my favourite month. The zapping heat had subsided, the trees had well and truly started to brown, pumpkins took over the world and the daunting gloom of a frigid winter hadn't entered the chat yet. So the moral of the story here is that I'm trying to pull a little of that October loving energy my way this year. My biggest priorities? The utter boycotting of overtime that has me chained to my computer through the weekends as this massively caught up with me in September. I work predominantly from home, which means it's quite easy to rack up the overtime hours but the last 7 months have really truly gotten out of hand. I work well into the evenings, roll into bed and get up to do it all over again. The weekends get easily lost to being overworked and I've got to sack up and start prioritizing my actual life before I completely crack in two.

October energy is out of the house and off the clock. It's Springtime so catch me in a field of flowers somewhere clicking my heels together and spinning round like an overly cheery lady in a tampon commercial. 

In an effort to start October off on a wave of positivity, please find a list below of my September favorites because I am truly nothing more than a 2009-Youtube-era-monthly-favourites-what's-in-my-bag type of gal.

Ranunculus.

                     

Suddenly Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors (I'm really young, fun and cool)

Norman's morning puppy dog eyes.

The Moo Deng Live Stream that I check at least once a day (Sidenote: I cried my eyes out to a news report the other day that signed off with "just a little girl still new to the world and unaware of how much it adores her"  like full blown sobbing, reincarnate me as an oiled up, man biting, sassy fat hippo I beg you.)

Obsessively retraining my curls to ringlet once again after years and years of heat damage and abuse. It's definitely a work in progress and the irony of pining for them to return after many adolescent years spent hating them is not lost on me! Moral of the story: Kids are dumb and don't know anything.

That's it. Everything else was awful.

Come on October, I have faith in you.

 

The UTI Diaries.

Live from a bathtub near you...it's Friday Night!

Things I planned to do this evening:

• Walk my Dog
• Go out to Dinner
• I dunno....stand up?

Things I actually did this evening:

• Splished
• Splashed
• Listened to Bags by Clairo on repeat whilst I floated around my bathtub drinking a premixed boxed Margarita straight from the cask like a god damn hooligan.

I've been Jordy McAboutToRipMyOrgansOut and this has been our Friday night newscast.

Catch-yas.

 

Rip me out the plastic I been actin'....literally exactly the same.

I am a nostalgic ass bitch (just ask the bottle of Maine beach sand in a Poland Spring bottle that has taken up residence in my Mum's house for the last 13 years!)

The good thing about spouting rubbish to this here blog for the last decade of my life is that when my nostalgic bones start to rattle, I can go back to exact moments in time and assess every dumbass thought that once resided in my dumbass brain.

This evening I happened to be having a little look back over some posts and noticed that 10 years ago today, 20 year old Jordan was riding a real wave of joy and made a post she joyfully titled Life is Lovely about all the things she was loving at that point in time (talking in third person portion of the blog is now over).

I found the list quite funny due to how little of the shit on it meant anything to me anymore. Apparently old me loved a donut, yet I now can't remember the last time I had one. I raved about hearing Australian accents in the wild again yet now I have lived back in Australia for five years so this no longer fusses me at all. Catching a well timed train? Now I don't live in New York, this is no longer one of life's great joys. Not everything had expired though, I still love a baby with some fat ol' legs but still, it felt time to give this list a 2024 revamp so in ten years time when I'm FORTY YEARS OLD, I can laugh at myself some more. 

 My new electric toothbrush that has a dentist recommended timer.

That's right baby! 30 year old me is a boring ass bitch! I am obsessed with my toothbrush and the utter praise kink joy I feel when it makes it's little mrhhh mrhh to let me know I'm killing the game and all the dentists in the world are proud of me.

Survivor.

 I would absolutely love to know how many times I've mentioned Survivor on my blog....I would guess at least 15. I will say it now and I will say it again, I'm a Survivor bitch, and I always will be. Jeff Probst is my actual father, I could recommend you the best seasons to binge watch, I clean my house to Youtube videos of Survivor strategy breakdowns and I would let Boston Rob run me over with a car.

Chatty dinners, a few glasses of wine and a theatre visit.

Nothing upsets me more than how much I took this for granted when Broadway was at my doorstep.

Being 30.

I love being 30. I love telling people I'm 30. I want to be 30 forever. I think it sounds so adult and fabulous. Jenna Rink took over my body the day I turned 30, she is now me and I am her, shove some chopsticks in my hair and let's Razzle out my dudes (I was about 10 years to early on the dating a Ranger thing which is a bit of a bummer but we move....)

Spending too much time aimlessly scrolling Tiktok.

I feel like everyone is always chatting shit about how they need to wake up earlier, or spend less time on their phones, or stop wasting too much time on Tiktok. I am not that person. I love laying in my bed in the morning procrastinating, and seeing people surprising their grandparents with sleepovers, elderly couples dancing to Untouched by The Veronicas, a cute ass baby perplexed why his swaddled little sister has no arms and a techno-remix of my boy Ander Dingus adding his candy to the salad bowl all in the space of 30 seconds. I think humans are funny, I like crying at strangers joy and my love language is oversharing Tiktoks with zero shame, deal with it.

Enjoying my Job.

Honestly, completely underrated. I love my job, I love my boss, I love working from home most of the week and clicky-clacking on my keyboard all day whilst singing my little heart out. I love the people I work with, I love my new 9 day fortnight. I love my salary. I love being good at what I do. I love having a little gossip over teams. I love going downstairs to stress water the reception plants when I need a break. All in all 10/10 would recommend.

CeraVe Oil Cleanser.

Nothing is more annoying than looking back at my 20's and the large amount of cash I dropped on extensive skincare routines that did more harm than good before discovering at the ripe old age of 29 that a cheap little oil cleanser and some thick moisturiser was all a girl needed to survive. Drunk Elephant and Sunday Riley, keep an eye out for my hate mail on the way to you soon!

Billie Eilish Festival Sets.

I've been listening to full sets of Billie Eilish performing at Lollapalooza on repeat whilst I work and honestly, big vibe. Although whenever Oxytocin comes on the only thought that runs through my head is, holy fuck I couldn't imagine anything worse that sitting with my brother, writing a sexy ass song and being like, "Hey, how about I sing the line, You know I like to rub it in like lotion?" 

Below Deck.

I'm a Bravo girlie at heart. VPR? Gone down hill, but still catch me clocking in every season. Summerhouse? I want to be best friends with Paige DeSorbo. RHOBH? For a good few eps until they annoy me, I'm locked in! Below Deck? Tenders away fuckers, I'm onboard, no matter the yacht and especially if my man Jason is steering it.

Friends who love a night in.

I have had many cherished friendships in my life, that hold many great memories, but one thing I will say for certain? My past friendships were forged out in the world and out in the world they remained. Those friendships lived in bars and restaurants and beaches and clubs, not since high school have I had friendships that thrived at home. This may sound so odd, what's the difference? I have no idea! So many of my greatest friends never came to my house, we met out, stayed out and loved each other without ever knowing where the hell each other lived....is that so odd? Very possible. Now my girlfriends come round, hype up my pup and start rummaging up a cheese boards because they know where things live in the kitchen. 

Hushabye Mountain from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Sometimes Dan catches me casually getting ready....or cooking....or working....or doing a fat ass puzzle...and listening to the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang soundtrack and do you know what he says? Not a damn thing, because he knows better, let me rock.

Gyros.

Whenever we order dinner I insist on a lamb Gyro and I do it with absolutely zero hesitation, dip me in Tzatziki baby, I'm done. 

A sneaky 5:30pm Friday dinner reservation.

I'm more than down for an only-group-in-the-restaurant-early-bird-special after a long ass work week. Catch me fed, tipsy, showered and lotion'd to the gods in bed by 9 snug as a bug in a cute as rug.

Being a commitment phobe whilst also insisting my four-year-long-untitled-almost-forty-year-old-situationship tipsy duets "If I didn't have you" from Monsters Inc with me in the back of the car on the way home.

I'm Mike Wazowski, and yes I will definitely unpack this further in therapy one day I'm sure.

I'm just a punky little eyeball and a funky optic nerve.

P.S. I love that in my original post from 10 years ago I'm talking about adding to my move to California fund and I actually did it a few years after. I'm not a big dreamer by nature, I'm content with a chilled existence, I don't have a crazy travel bug or want to throw myself out of a plane for fun, so sometimes I view myself as a pretty boring person but then I take a step back and realise that I've actually had some pretty cool moments in my life so far. I've made some fun memories and I've never been afraid to pack up and make a change. I remember the day I moved to California with three suitcases, I changed my location on Facebook whilst standing at baggage claim. I was so proud to have really thrown everything to the wind and headed on out of New York on what felt like a random Tuesday evening. I feel so content in who and where I am at the moment but I look back on my time in LA and the person who I was and I'm so glad to have been her.

 

Ahoj 2024

 

Happy 2024 folks. 

I have asked several people what their New Years resolutions are this year and every single time it has been met with utter disgust, so definitely not going to both asking you how those are going!

Unlike the party poopers in my life, I DID make some resolutions because I personally love setting myself up for failure and disappointment.

• Try 50 New Recipes

As someone who used to worry that if I had children they would grow up on cereal, I'm kind of a whole new bitch recently and I'm really loving cooking, so I need to keep riding that wave! I'm personally into cooking cultural dishes at the moment in an effort to get over my fear of cooking meet because until very recently the idea of consuming meat that I cooked made me want to pass away, but she's growing and she's evolving! 

• Read 50 books

I go through phases with reading and have discovered I enjoy buying and owning books more than I like actually reading them. 2024 is the year I actually read all the books I own before buying any new ones (literally already failed that part, but the idea was nice in theory!)

• Watch 100 Movies

Confession: I am not a movie gal. Aside from the Barbie movie, I haven't been to the movies in YEARS and when I'm at home I am more likely to rewatch Gilmore Girls for the 900th time instead of picking a new movie. I'm on a mission to change that, though! I originally thought I should watch the top 100 movies (I tried this once in lockdown and quit before I started) but then I remembered I would rather gnaw off my own arm than watch Citizen Cane so catch me watching every chick flick ever made thank you so kindly.

• Limit food delivery

My coworker told me once she feels like a little raccoon scurrying out of her dumpster to run and get her food from the front step before scurrying back inside and honestly, she isn't wrong! This is my only money saving goal of the year because man oh MAN I would hate to know how much money I waste on Uber eats! 

• Take More Pictures (Not of Norman)

Fun fact, I never take any pictures of anything aside from my dog. The other day at lunch my friends spent like 5 minutes taking photos of things and I complained the whole damn time I'm a real joy.) Personally, I love that I don't need pictures of an event to know it happened or that I had fun, but as my friend always says, "One day if you have kids they will think you did nothing for like 8 years of your life because you refuse to document anything."  

They will know I have a dog though because boy oh boy do I love snapping pictures of that little guy! For example the singular picture I took from Christmas 2023 was Norman wearing his Christmas hat as a scarf.

Side note: My family have this tradition of playing Celebrity Head at the dinner table during our Christmas Eve meal, and Norm was obviously Princess Leia.

And that's all of them! 

See? Easy Peezy! 

I'm not out here trying to reinvent the wheel, lose 500 pounds or save 1 million dollars. Just a few little things to aim for this year.