MALAYSIA DIARIES. Episode 1 : The Adventure Begins


The last few weeks have been boring. Completely mundane and exhausting. I apologise to everyone for anything and everything I have force written in the past few weeks cause I guarantee it was relatively terrible. Entirely because I’ve been feeling pretty terrible. The only interesting stuff has been breaking through walls and break downs at training (which to anyone outside of the cheer realm essentially has no meaning) and that guy that crapped the floor in the change rooms at work (which although I wasn’t there for, I sure laughed at A LOT when I heard about it). Apparently all work, no sleep and no play turn Natalie into an emotionally volatile mess…and are a substantial contributing factor to my recent epic face plants and head stacks. A human mess that sweats as much as it cries, rarely has time to eat and or sleep, has semi-formed and yet melodramatic actual human feelings about things, and packs in && breaks down every 2 days. Cyborg Nat worked and trained and worked and trained until she could do no more, and so, she jumped on a plane and flew to Malaysia.

Observation 1: Plane sleep does not equal real sleep.

Upon learning that my flight would take 8 hours my first thought was SLEEP. I had fond memories of the plane ride home from NZ last year when I continues to fall asleep during Megamind && took me the whole trip to watch it in its entirety. The seat reclined, mamma donated her in flight meals, and life was sweet. On my KL flight, I was fortunate enough to get the non-reclining seat && so I looked on with intense jealousy at my fellow passengers who were able to recline at an angle greater than 90 degrees, and as such, sleep without dribbling all over themselves. Of course my travel pillow was not really any help, yes it was smooshy and amazing, but it pushed my head even further forward and substantially increased the saliva flow, causing me to continually wake up mid-dribble and hope that no-one had seen me. On the upside, my constant awakening led me to not find myself in an epic pool of my own saliva, which is something that happens far too often when I crash out.

Eventually we landed in Malaysia. All in all the flight wasn’t too bad, no babies, semi-attractive man meat littered throughout the plane && no salmonella from the interestingly unfresh looking airline food. My first thought “OMG THEY HAVE GIANT MENTOS TUBES HERE!!!!!!”, swiftly followed by “Damn there’s a lot of palm trees here.” I jumped in the cab and took my first looks at this land where palm trees outnumber people, indicators are fast becoming obsolete, unnecessary seat belt use if riding behind shotgun, babies on motorbikes, reversing sensors, and FOOD. Oh so much food; Western food, Asian food, desserts, fast food restaurants, coffee shops. EVERYTHINGG!!!. And all oh so inexpensive. Naturally my first question was “If there’s so much food && its all so beautifully priced, why is everyone so skinny??” Apparently the heat and humidity mean that everyone sweats out all the calories that they consume. I maintain that there MUST be something in the water cause I come from Queensland where it is hot && humid as a mother and we have enormously fat and sweaty people all over the place. Maybe if they turned off the aircon in KFry, Mickey Dees, and the Queen street food court Australia wouldn’t be the fattest nation anymore. Or.. undeterred by the heat, fatties would continue gorging on junk and we would become the fattest and the stankiest nation as all the skinny decent smelling people would GTFO. Not that I’m really in a position to judge the fatties considering my plans for the week include a healthy routine of sleeping, eating, and more sleeping, followed by a potential shock on the scales when I get home.

Who am I kidding, I’ve earnt my right to pass judgement on those who don’t love themselves enough to take care of their bodies, and as such, learn from their example and NEVER treat myself like junk.

So after a half day of eating, shopping, exploring and being introduced to new friends who are so kind as to show me around and let me crash under their roof thanks to my dear cheer friend, I crashed….and hard.

Flashback Friday.


Well its been a while since I’ve posted, and there’s been a few things going on. So as I sit here waiting for water to boil (I must be doing it wrong cause I swear its been on the stove for an hour) I’ll skim over all the junk I’ve done and learnt over the last week or so.

1. Cooking//Cleaning//General looking after yourself BLOWS! Moving out of home has really interfered with my laziness, and since I can’t go back to mamma (because I’m a grown-up now) I will happily take applications for ‘doting manflesh’ to feed me clean up after me, and throw in some additional cuddles for good measure.

NB>> Applicants must be at least 180cm (tall enough for me to wear heels around you), Muscular (Back included – not just the glamour muscles), and have an incredibly hot mouth (much like the dream boat from Fired Up). 

2. People who work in retail are stupid. (Myself Excluded) Got my new phone. Finally. Smart shop assistant casually didn’t chuck in a sim card…rendering my new phone useless until I went back in today.

On the way to retrieve said sim card, I stopped at a servo && bought two waters, on the premise that they were 2 for $6. The stupid lady behind the counter charged me full price for both. Rather than ask for my $2, I sat in my car and wished death on her as apparently I’m far too much of a pussy to confront a cashier for overcharging me. It’s not like I’m saving to go overseas or anything…

3. Australia is overrun with bugs. (Also see point 1) I no longer have a mummy//step-dad//bretheren to fight off large insects. I had to catch my own spider the other day. It was incredibly scary, kinda liberating and icky.

On that same note, every single night at training we are attacked by mothra & co, and there is currently a fly making an assortment of noise in my bin.

Australia blows for this very reason.

4. Finally cracked a thousand ‘friends’ on facey…..couldn’t wrangle up more than ten to come out last night. This tells me either a) I’m not as popular as I thought, of b) I make friends with terribly useless people… I vote B.

5. Heard the 23159876089437-90`85`786750976891789574893759823758342689-107583476th ad for Valentines Day. I’m heading down to the TAB right now to bet that I will still be single && fabulous on V’day…which may have semi inspired a social experiment…But is any of y’all want to be my Valentine and junk, I’ll accept lindt balls, lilies, and a mf deep tissue massage.

6. Had an itty bitty cry.  Justified by the fact that my saults have gotten so terrible I resemble a duck being shot at. It won’t happen again.

7. Blogs are the new black. Get all up in my lover’s blog.  Oh and Jed’s…but he’s not that great 😛

8. Having a pool is not awesome when it rains on every day you have off. I think I need to get into some anti-rain dance tribal mojo so I can get a tan and enjoy my surroundings..

9. Recording is fun. Long story short, volunteer announcing atm so I can get me a rad portfolio && work my way up the commercial ladder && be the next Kyle & Jackie O. Sunday, 9-11 listen live right here  if you’re keen. Otherwise sleep in && hold out til I get my big break && get paid for my genius.

10. I am stupid. Today I ran out of fuel on the motorway and burnt tuna && sauce into the bottom of a saucepan…Not my first time for either…learning clearly isn’t my strong point

Water = boiled. Food calls, gtg.

Nat 🙂

Eggs.


Sometimes I wonder about myself. 

I mean, I think about myself almost 24/7, but sometimes I float out and have a look at myself from the outside. 

This morning I saw a lizard.

I have concluded this morning that along the evolutionary scheme of things, when it comes to eating….I’m not very far along.

*nb none of the following reflects on my upbringing. trust me…i’ve been taught to know better.

I maintain that I’m book smart.. life smart…not so much.

This mornings approach to eggs proved this to me. 

Not only did I have to google how long to cook eggs for (because I didn’t steal the egg timer from mammas && cbf searching through the nest for someone elses)

But I decided to make soft boiled eggs (the best way to have eggs) without owning egg cups to consume them from (probably another thing I should have borrowed from mum)

Nevertheless, I got myself out a plate, as if in some deluded fantasy I might be able to eat my pre-bed snack in some sort of civilized way.

For those of you who are lucky enough to have never been in the kitchen with me at breakfast//egg time…I feel I need to point out my approach to cracking the shells. 

Instead of daintily tapping at the shell with a knife, I’m a smasher.

By smasher I mean I will drop//throw the egg repeatedly on the kitchen counter until the shell is so shattered that it just comes right off. 

For some reason it didn’t register that the insides would be all gooey and I wouldn’t be able to transfer the delicious insides onto my plate and eat them with a spoon in a humanlike fashion. 

Instead after several smashes I realised that the eggs were quite gooey delicious, but also completely impractical. 

So in a lizard like fashion I licked and sucked out the inners, leaving behind the shells on the paper towels I’d laid down to save the kitchen. 

It was halfway through the second egg, as I was drinking the insides, the thought popped into my head… what would my housemate think If she woke up and walked into the kitchen to find me with my tongue in an egg with shells scattered around me..what must I look like.

Lizardy

Perhaps even a Raptor

Not a lady. 

On the upside…the kitchen doesn’t look like its been raided by a starving reptile. 

So its not all bad…

 

Nat ❤

You. Better. Ba-Ring it.


Tonight was the night we’ve all been counting down for. The first team training of 2012. The training that has had us all not knowing what to expect since we learned that we would be coached by our world class//superstar choreographer from 2011.

Personally, I was crapping myself….all holidays..

Even though I’ve been competing on and off for 8 years now, I’m quite the sped gymnast, and am nowhere near as skilled as some of the ah-mazing peeps at my gym.

I’ll admit I caught myself a few times thinking that I hadn’t earnt my place on an Elite 4 team. That I wasn’t good enough, and somehow I’d managed to trick my coaches into thinking I had what it takes. And that after one practice they’d see right through me and send me right back to L3.

Being the last one to get in to the gym didn’t really make me feel any better.

But within 5 minutes // before I’d even had time to think, I was chucking standing backs like I wasn’t even scared of eating carpet (oh god how I was).

Tonight. We brought it.

I didn’t think for a second that there was anything I couldn’t do, as such…there was a lot of crazy, but there’s no other way to get better.

There were a few tears, a bucketload of sweat, and a lot of appreciation for the pedestal fans. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I left that gym knowing that I can be the best, that we can be the best, and thanks to the adrenaline//delirium, I felt like I could have survived another 3 hours of training.

So as I count down the minutes until I do it all again, with my body covered in ice packs. I’ll finish with the best advice I’ve ever been given. Find something you love, and immerse yourself in it. Whether its Cheer, knitting, cats, collecting spoons, WHATEVER.

Get involved.

❤ Nat

Conquering the Christmas Muffin


At the beginning of season last year, we all set ourselves 3 goals, read them out put them in a time capsule yada yada etc.

Now out of the 3 of mine, I’ve really only achieved 2. And what’s funny is that the one I failed miserably at is the only thing I thought I’d be able to do.

My first goal was to get a lot better at tumbling. Now I specifically left this one open and didn’t name the skills I wanted cause I think I’m a pretty useless gymnast and didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment.

Although I’m entirely sure I scraped in by the skin of my teeth, this year I have gained enough tumbling skills to have scored a place on the fiercest level 4 team out. Which excites and scares me greatly. Having said that, I worked my butt off, face planted many.. many times and ate a lot of blue carpet. And I can’t wait to do it all again this year.

My second goal was that my teammates would become like family to me. At this stage I was still competing with Cheersport Australia, a club I’ve been with for years, with teammates who love each other more than life. I guess at first I was worried I wouldn’t get there with my new team, as many of them already knew each other from other clubs. However, I’ve made some of the most amazing friends and had the most amazing time with the Zoo Crew && I can’t wait to do it all again this year.

My third and final goal//the one I thought I’d be able to achieve quite easily was to have ‘Top Gun abs’ by Nationals//just generally be anywhere near as awesome as them would be fine with me.

In the month before Nationals last year I stocked up like a mother. Tank, not flab. But still not TG worthy.

Today I learnt I’ve gained 4-5 kg’s.

About an hour later I was in the lunchroom inhaling donuts and chips….

And I’m writing this while polishing off half a pizza with extra cheese base delicious.

See my main problem is, I’m in the mindset that because I’m an athlete, I can eat like a fat manbearpig. Unfortunately, hitting the gym once or twice over holidays, or ever when I was training 7 days does not equal regular pizza && pasta gorges with no repercussions.

Not to mention the chips, lollies, chocolates, budget junk dinners etc. etc.

My theory is that now that I no longer live in the parental nest that I will have the willpower to only buy good food.

My parents are angels, but there is soooooo much unhealthy tempting delicious stuff in that pantry. I stopped off home last night to pick up some cups and my loofah and left with mouthfuls of marshmallows and an armful of packet pasta.

So my promise to you all and myself (Its on the internet so it’s permanent) is to actually take care of myself and eat well so I can look totally bangin….which benefits everyone, and have the energy and ability to get rad skills to continue to entertain you all…not that it isnt mass funny when I stack it….

Starting tomorrow…. (as hand reaches for the lolly tin)

❤ Nat

 

The final gorge.


Im now in my last week at the parental nest. I’ve found a new one, with real grown ups, and a pool. As such. I will become a real grown up…with a pool.

So I’m taking this opportunity to gorge on the plethora of junk food contained in the parental nest.  Being a poor uni student, my post-parental diet will surely consist of two minute noodles, cat food, and beans.

So due to the fact I will be unable to justify and//or afford junk food when I leave home, I’m taking full advantage of the opportunity to inhale as much as possible over the next few days.

Including, but not limited to, chocolate as a staple for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Dorito’s and dessert spoonfuls of nutella for second lunch.

And jatz && dip for second dinner.

Apologies to all if I get fat and//or repulsive.

Nat 🙂

Nest Hunt


So as some of you may know, I am on the hunt for a new nest. Which as such has led to several conversations about the type of nest I want to relocate to, and what other inhabitants I’d like to live with.

My first comment was. “I don’t want to live with ugly people”. And no offense to any potential roomies, but generally, if you’re frightfully unattractive and//or smell weird, you’re likely to be a social retard and I don’t think we’ll have much in common.

My friend then pointed out,  “you don’t want to live with hot people either, things could get weird.” And I agree completely. I would hate life for sure if I lived in a house full of supermodel types. My days would be spent in my room, hating life and raging at god for not blessing me with perfect genetics or at least the desire to brush my hair and wear makeup more than twice a week.

So yeah, normal people would be great. I could deal with normal, awesome people.

but

I don’t want to share a bed with you.

Problem number two, there appears to be a trend in student sharehousing for not only sharing a house, but also sharing a room.

In one case, a bed.

I checked out this amazing looking house today, even to look at I was like ‘out of my price range//there’s a catch here.’

The catch being, share a bed with a Taiwanese girl I don’t even know, and my only “solo space” being my desk.

I’m sure she’s lovely. But my bed is reserved for “boyfie” and my giant rabbit. I feel the only people who should have to endure me while I sleep (&& snore//dribble like the world is ending) are people I’m dating or giant stuffed animals.

I also don’t like the idea of having a random sleeping in a separate bed in the corner of my room which appears to be another trend.

“You’ll have the room to yourself, but a complete stranger will come and go//just sleep here. He doesn’t need any space.”

No thanks.

My last issue is that I don’t want to live in a scrub shack that smells weird and is busted up and dirty.

Which rules out living with about 85% of the male population.  (No offence boys, but you’re all pretty gross.)

I’m now at a point where I have ruled out living in around 90% of the student accommodation available. And so I continue my search for the holy grail of share housing.

I also wish myself luck.

So to my future housemates, I look forward to meeting you, maybe I met you today, maybe I’ll never meet you, pike out, and continue living in the parental back yard. But I doubt it. Most of all, stay cool. And hygienic. If you get ugly or dirty…we can’t be friends.

❤ Nat

p.s If you’ve read this far, I’m sure you have an opinion. >>Comment<<

Hello world!


Well hello Blogosphere.

As per one of few New Years resolutions I made, I’ve become one of those new age hipster types and started a blog. The logic being that if I plan to have someone pay me to rant in the future by means of my own column//show//world, I should probably get some practice in making the general minutiae of my life seem relatively interesting and entertaining.

As such…

Nothing worth writing about has happened thus far in 2012.

Stay tuned.

Nat ❤

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