Natventure: En route


So the trip to worlds has begun, but not the fun bit. Actually doesn’t feel real yet, not helped by the epic plane ride that comes with competing over the other side of the world. Its not as small as people lead you to believe.
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Queensland Health needs to take a long hard look at themselves.


My grandparents always used to say that to me when I misbehaved as a child. Which was often. Qld Health, I am angry, and I’m also disappointed. So you’ve got double time in the naughty corner.

For those of you who haven’t been following my life closely, (And I assume its either because you’re a bad friend, or because you are solely a reader of my blog, in which case. Congratulations and welcome) I have a broken nose. Long story short, cheer related incident. Lots of blood and many laughs afterwards, especially after the codeine kicked in. They all stopped pretty soon after the hospital incompetency began.

So far. I have been to four different hospitals, had my referral lost, had my referral ignored, dropped several hundred dollars (only to get a measly $31 back off medicare) and seen countless doctors who are more than happy to poke my face, confirm that yes, I have a fractured and crooked nose, and then palm me off to someone else. It took them so long to book me in for a re-set that by the time I got in to see the specialist, all he could do was poke my face again, discover my nose has healed too much, then casually announce that I now need major surgery to get it back where it was… and that will take 3-6 months.

In fact. I might not even qualify for surgery as there is a risk that I may break it again.

Ignoring the fact that in the 8 years I’ve been cheerleading this is my first and only broken bone.

So here I am. Crooked and pissed off, and thinking that maybe I should just cut my losses and go for a surgical holiday in Thailand when I retire…and just sleep with my mouth open like a walrus til then.

In the meantime I have a couple of suggestions for the health system so that next time this can get sorted quicker, and anyone else unfortunate enough to hurt themselves doesn’t have to go through this crap.

1. The health department needs to burn their fax machines…and get email. Just like everyone else who lives in 2012. Then maybe next time you won’t lose my referral and it won’t take you 3 goddamned weeks to get me to see a specialist.

2. Medibank. When I pay you $40 a fortnight for a level of cover that takes care of knee and shoulder reconstructions, you should 100% definitely cover ALL minor breaks. Broken noses. Yeah. More common than reconstructions…And easier//cheaper to fix when you book your friggen clients in before their nose fuses over on the left side of their face.

3. Why in gods name is there only one guy, and one department, in all of Brisbane’s public hospitals that can fix broken noses. See above. They are common. At the end of the day, I didn’t even get seen in Brisbane, I got palmed off to Logan. Boxing, Football, and drunken fighting are so very popular that I can imagine every second person in the emergency room on any given weekend has a broken nose. Why then. Is there only one doctor?

4. Perhaps if parents pulled their fingers out and brought up children in a well disciplined environment that values education there would be more doctors to fix aforementioned problems and better politicians and economists to ensure that the health department gets adequate funding.

5. And finally. If you are a smoker, an alcoholic, an over eater, an under eater, suicidal, or a drug fiend. For gods sake get out of public health. Go. Get out. Get private health insurance so that you may get so sick of forking out time and money on retaining what little health you have, you might just take care of yourself and save everyone some hassle. Tax payer dollars should be reserved for those who look after themselves, and so public hospitals and doctors should be reserved for those healthy self respecting people who are unfortunate enough to have bad things happen to them. I spent all day, in a waiting room, with wheezy fat people. Who had a darb out the front before coming in to wait around me. Of course you’re sick, you’re not looking after yourself. I and many others eat right, exercise, and as such, are in good health and therefore more entitled to health funds.

Our health. More valuable. By far. Go to the back of the line.

End rant.

I am fricken amazing… See below for proof


I was having lunch with a dear friend of mine earlier this week when she said something that inspired me to write a blog. I don’t remember her exact words (cause i’m neither a wizard nor stenographer), but it was something along the lines of how awesome I am, and that I’m lucky to have such an exciting life. My reply was something along the lines of ‘Yeah right, my life’s pretty standard.’

But then I started thinking about all the stuff I am doing, one by one, and then I was like ‘Hey. I am pretty impressive.” And so over the last couple of days I’ve half constructed a list of impressive stuff I’ve done this week, and yeah, I feel good. And to be honest the only thing that I would change about my life right now is that I’d add having this guy apply for permanent residency in my bed…or this guy or even him.   So if you’ve been having a crap day//week//year, just make a list on a scrap piece of paper (or on the internet) and even include all the stupid little things like finding 5c pieces that you don’t think even count. Cause it counts. It all counts. pennies in the bank 🙂

This week I

  • Got neglected by the Easter Bunny and didn’t make a scene.
  • After years of being tickle-tortured I discovered one of my work buddies is as ticklish as me. Bwah ha ha.
  • Finally scored a night off training. I celebrated by running til I couldn’t breathe.
  • Express posted my inspirational friend her inspirational present. And prayed every day since that she gets it before she leaves for worlds.
  • Set up a monthly World Vision donation.
  • Resisted the urge to spend ten grand on a piece of toast.
  • Returned to crack of dawn swimming training && survived.
  • Had breakfast with my dearest friend and had an incredibly loud conversation about our sex lives.
  • Stayed up til almost midnight catching up with another friend….talking about our sex lives.
  • Noticed a common trend in my conversations.
  • Watched all of Geordie Shore (<3 Charlotte…Although her && the parsnip hit a familiar nerve)…then returned to reality.
  • Joined the AGT team && got to perform for  TV.
  • Gave myself a DIY spray tan and didn’t turn the bathroom orange, or make a total mess of myself.
  • Applied for a big girl job.
  • Did my first breakfast show without any notes or deleting any talk breaks.
  • Bought a rad bikini for my annual 21st.
  • Made a mental wish list of BM stuff I want
  • Scored myself a lot of chicken for $20
  • Came to the realization that Kmart is my favourite shop. (They have soooo much cheap house stuff)
  • Bought Easter eggs for $1.65…from Kmart.
  • Thanked god a million times for how sweet life is right now, and that my hard work is paying off in so many ways.
  • Made an effort to thank everyone who has helped me out this week.
  • Finally returned to tumbling (oh how a week can seem like an eternity)
  • Ate my weight in fish oil tablets so that my body can have super healing powers.
  • Waited patiently for my wolf hat….

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.

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

 

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