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!

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.

Cold.

It's still snowing

and I am still sad.

 I made a little icy friend

but she melted.

 It's a mean world.

Australia Day.

(Margaret River '04)

Dear Australia,

I love you bitch....

I ain't gone never stop loving you....

....bitch.

xoxo

2015

January is more than halfway over so I believe it's time for me to start committing to change this year.   For the last few years I haven't been overly happy with my situation. I've mentioned it before, a constant feeling of dishevelment that I can't seem to shake. I feel as if everyone around me has their lives together in every sense of the word and I can't even master one little portion. I used to mask this with constant movement. If I was always out... busy... intoxicated, I never had time to truly reflect on how much I wasn't actually doing. I've since ramped up my flakiness and have been spending a lot less time on my distractions, allowing me to mentally grow the fuck up and realize that I can actually make progress at any time....I just have to kind of...well...do it.

So that's what I'm doing...I'm doing it....

Whatever the heck "it" is...well I'll figure that bit out later.

Humans of New York

Fall is my absolute favorite. 

It used to be summer...well....actually, let me rephrase that. Fall in New York is favorite. At home in Australia I will plead summer until I die. Unbearable heat matched with an icy cold pool or ocean and bronzed skin, I'm there! But in New York, summer is the worst. It's a sweat box. There is no oceany escape (I'm sorry I refuse to call Coney Island a beach, goodbye) and that is why fall wins.

It's the refreshing breeze after you step out of a scorching sauna, and before you get on a plane set for Antarctica. 

So yes, fall.

Today I took up residence on one of those green benches that line 5th avenue separating the two worlds with Central Park and overzealous kids screaming behind me.

I like those benches.

I think it's because I'm exceptionally creepy, and I like people watching. In all actuality, I was waiting for somebody, it wasn't just a random case of stalking....that is just what it turned into.

As I've mentioned many times before I like imagining peoples lives. The old lady smiling and wandering slowly behind the exuberant little girl talking so fast it's almost a song? That's the child's grandmother and best friend, her confidant and biggest ally. The young girl juggling different designer bags filled with heavy shoes and expensive linens? That's the assistant of a big shot designer, constantly nervous that one error in thread count will leave her shunned and jobless. The man in the impeccably tailored suit weaving through the children and ranting hastily into his earpiece? He's the CEO of a major fashion conglomerate....and also most likely a giant tool because really, who wears a bluetooth earpiece?

It amazes me that in a city so big all of our lives can blend so seamlessly together. Our paths all mesh and cross weaving together to make up the basket that holds New York.

I feel comforted by this, the fact that I'm only one of many, the world feels less intimidating and scary that way, less focused on me and my failures. It's good to remember that everybody I meet has a mother and father, they are not simply background noise for my own one woman show, they are actual people with a past and dreams as big as my own. They have failures and turmoils probably far greater than the ones that plague me...is it wrong to find comfort in the communal struggle?

Life is weird man.

Also if I hear one more person call Amanda Bynes their spirit animal I'm going to lose my shit. I'm not sure how someone publicly breaking down and spiraling into their mind is at all related to you? I'm also not sure when laughing at sick people became a hobby but how about we just don't. Thank you and goodnight.

Run Forest, Run Forest, Go Forest.

I've decided I'm going to start including whatever song I'm listening to whilst I'm writing these entries...partially because sometimes it is representative, and partially because it will annoy my mum.

Tonight I've been thinking a lot about anxiety, well actually for a while now. It's something I've been really struggling with. I'm not sure why exactly it has been plaguing me so bad as of late, but I've noticed myself shutting down a lot more in reaction.

As a person, I'm very on or I'm very off.

If I'm in the mood I'll be the biggest social butterfly in town, flittering about without a care. Sometimes it last for months, and I spend all my time in flight. Sometimes it only lasts for a week and then I'm uninterested in it all.

But sometimes I'm completely off. It's as if someone physically shuts me down. I break plans, I flake out, I run away. I almost go into autopilot. I get up, go to work and then scuttle back to my bubble as fast as I can. It's not a sad time though, as I honestly feel as if I very rarely feel sadness...it's just a time where I crave space, and have you ever tried craving space in New York City? It's rough. Often I turn to running, because although you are constantly surrounded by buildings,people and stray rats....at least your body feels like it's free. Have you ever ran so far that your heart seems to suddenly become real, as if it was just dropped into your chest with it's beat pounding against your ears? So far that your limbs feel so foreign it's as if they aren't even sewn on? It's my favorite feeling.

It sure beats the anxiety, that feels awful.It's as if I can't really breath that well at all.There is a constant tightness in my chest, and although I like to believe I fake it well, I'm always on edge. Have you ever seen something you didn't want to? Or gotten bad news that almost felt like someone punched you in the stomach? That's what it feels like...times 4.

In these times there are only a handful of people I want to be around....My mum's a good one, she constantly puts up with my mood swings and feeds me pie and peach cobbler until I feel better....or my ex-boyfriend, who as much as I hate him sometimes, always seems to know the right things to say.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you know me in real life and I happen to periodically disappear, it's nothing personal. I'm just being a hermit crab, actually once my friend Brooke decided that a hermit crab was most likely my spirit animal....lame right? but I guess it does make sense.

Life is weird man.

I feel like I talk about these things a lot on here, and that's mainly because writing things out honestly makes me feel a little better...running for the mind? It's like a weird therapy that I just happen to publish on the world wide web for my dad to read when he's bored, ignoring work and sick of checking his golf handicap every 3 seconds.

But just FYI it is the lowest it has ever been in his life....

He's quite proud of that.

Cheap wiiiiine and three day....s worth of vegetables

Cold Chisel anyone? No? I'll see myself out. 

 My joints are really sore....is this an age thing? a weather thing? a not taking care of my body for 20+ years thing? Either way stairs are hard....and also typing is hard...life is hard.

So today....or...err yesterday? Whatever the 8th was Queen Mumpets birthday. Happy Birthday Queen Mumpet.

 I'm not sober right now....which is making stringing a sentence together very difficult. I'm not sure why exactly I'm even writing something....but alas here I am.

Oh actually, snaps for me for something. I haven't spent a single penny in 1 whole week (I almost had to pay for my drinks last night...but then I remembered I have boobs....I half hate myself, half love myself....) Two weeks ago I did something I never do aka bought groceries aka what up adulthood! This was the brain child of realization after I had added up how much money I spent on going out to eat....let's just say it wasn't pretty especially since I am desperately trying to save money and seem to be spending hours staring at my bank balance with a look of sheer bewilderment at where exactly my money went (#girlzjustwannahavefundz.) I still can't cook though so I have been living off 3 dollar wine, avocado and ham sandwiches and huge bowls of lettuce and broccoli smothered in balsamic (aka the gods nectar....aka it's literally my favorite flavor....aka shower me in it). I've also noticed that my body is liking me more (except my old man joints). It's less bloated due to the whole no artificial-what-have-you I normally inject straight into my blood stream and I don't constantly want to kill myself due to constant food coma....well I mean I did eat a whole french baguette yesterday and felt my heart slow down but that's beside the point.

I've reached that point in my life that my diet actually effects how I feel. I've never really been too self conscious about my weight- I have big boobs, big thighs, a smaller waist and a weird little baby bump of chub that likes the hang out on my lower stomach sometimes and that was just kind of that. Some days I would feel chubby and crappy but it was never a massive deal to me honestly, so I just ate what I wanted and went on my merry way. But now I actually feel my body reacting to food. It kind of blows. I have always loved vegetables, hell I used to hoard heads of lettuce under my bed as a child and constantly gobbled up cucumbers and tomatoes much to the annoyance of my mother who planned on using them for dinner. But I also have a major sweet tooth...and a bread tooth....and a bacon tooth...where was I going with this?

Oh yeah! Australian bacon is so much better than American bacon (that definitely wasn't where I was going with that...but hey man, a fact is a fact.)

I would just like to apologize for wasting 5 minutes of your time, I'm going to be honest I'm not even going to reread and edit because I'm way to sleepy and isn't there a rule about writing drunk and editing sober?

See you when I'm sober I guess.

Time to go nap nap.

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.

Procrastination Station.

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.

Keepin' New York weird.

My ability to get from my work to either a) the bar b) food or c) my bed, is amazing. As soon as I'm out of the building my "don't fuck with my face" is on and my walk becomes more of a light jog. Nothing can sway me from my deep meditation as I brush past doctors ironically on their cigarette breaks, business men walking their pups around the Upper East Side after a long day of stacking their millions and all the various pictures of shocking that suddenly become less shocking after living here for awhile because hey....New York's weird man. 

I thought I had seen/heard it all until today. There I was, jumping down the subway steps wearing my latest in crabby fashions (I wish I was joking....my dress really did have crabs on it....) when a slumping homeless (or at least rather dirty/tired) gentleman locked eyes with me.

"Hey mama, wanna breast feed me?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, before looking around for conformation that, oh hey yeah that man did actually ask you to nurse him.

Oh New York, you wacky, wacky wasteland you.

(Oh and for those wondering, NO I didn't take him up on his offer)

P.S. I recently found this video whilst scrolling listlessly through my Facebook, it made me giggle AND it made my heart swell so I figured I would share!