Cat pee and cups of tea

I arrived home at 10pm on a Thursday after a quick two day trip to Russell in memory of my granddads passing. I ran a bath, made a cup of tea, sat aimlessly on the couch staring at a picture on the wall, stood in the kitchen for a moment wondering how to get food in my body without having to eat, then I went to my room. I petted my cat and went to put my hot wheat bag in the bed so it was warm when I got in. There, in the middle of the bed was a pee stain. A cat pee stain. I looked at the bed, I looked at Charlie, he looked back at me, I looked back at the bed. Right. I’m not sure what most people do when they’re emotional exhausted and find their cat peed in their bed, but I laughed. Charlie meowed. I laughed a bit more and looked at him and said, “yep, I know what you mean”. I have no idea what he meant. He’s a cat, he probably just meant he wanted food. But I’ll take it as a sorry. So the sheets are in the wash, including the waterproof mattress cover which is apparently not also cat-pee-proof and I’ve remade my bed. Of course he also got the duvet so that’s tomorrows job. I pulled out another one of my many and put that on my bed instead. The problem I faced with remaking the bed however, is every bed in this house is a double and mine is a queen…so fitting sheets on it is similar to me trying to fit back into my size six jeans after France.

So, here I am in my bath with my cup of tea, well the second cup, the first cup ended up cold and with floating bits of cat fur in it, balancing my laptop precariously on the edge of the bath because I’ve concluded this is my only quiet ‘me’ spot…it’s even safe from the cat.

Tomorrow, Friday, is all about bridal shower planning. I’m super excited but also rather dubious as to how I am going to make a paper mache in one day…guess it’s time to get out the hair dryer! I’m also rather frightened I might poison all the guests with cake as I haven’t made a normal cake in years and as I can’t taste it, well….you can imagine how that might end.

Never the less I am alive, I went for a run today and only nearly died, and I have tea, and a bath, and a clean bed.

Deep breaths, tomorrow is a new day.


Another year older and a little bit wiser…sometimes

My butt is incredibly sore today. It’s a rather interesting way to end a birthday, but turns out sitting on it meant it needed massaging. And that hurt. But I think it’s going to be ok. With my flitting around the world this year it doesn’t quite feel time for my birthday to have come around again or that it’s been a year since granddad passed away. Charlie the cat is as weird as ever but he’s come around to sleeping on my bed and even thinks it’s fun to wake me up by standing on my head in the night. I spent the morning with mum at a spa for a detox treatment and I feel suitably loved and detoxed and filled with healthy chocolate. What on earth would the world do without chocolate?

The spa we went to gave me a little pink flower pot plant so I now have three living things that rely on me! I’m rather determined to keep it alive…the plant that is. I’m hoping the cat and horse can look after themselves a little because let’s be honest, I’m not actually that good at keeping even myself alive. But I’ve managed 22 years so that’s got to count for something!

I wanted to do a big post about how much has changed over the past year but sometimes there just aren’t words for things so here is a super brief recap:

I lost granddad, I brought a horse and sold a horse, Ivy had a baby horse and I sold him, I ran away overseas and travelled to nine countries in four months and absolutely loved it and learnt a bunch of life lessons, and I went from a four year relationship to single, I ended up with a cat. And here we are!

When I was a kid I always thought: “When I get to 21, life will be good”. I have no idea why it was 21, but I seemed to think life would stop there. I thought I’d have a car, a horse, a house, a job, and a degree and I’d be set for life. I have all that sure, but it’s nothing like I pictured and life is certainly not stopping here. I must chuckle at my much younger self and think, “Man, what am I going to think in another 10 years? Will I look back on my current self and think ‘how naive, if only you’d known’.” Yep, probably. But what I have come to realise is life never happens how you expect and even when it comes close to it, the feeling may be nothing like the one you’d anticipated. Walking away from my relationship was one of the hardest things to do. I wanted to fight, I wanted it to work. But I also hate giving up and sometimes I don’t know when to quit. Perhaps it was time to do so or perhaps I’m just stronger than I was four years ago, but I’m really quite ok. I’m sad in moments and angry in others but after losing people, seeing suffering in all parts of the world including my own, and having been diagnosed with a life altering health issue I feel like a break up is a mountain I’m well equipped to climb and with the support I have, there is absolutely no reason I won’t make a quick journey over the other side.

Anyway, instead of rambling on about all the changes I decided I’d instead write a list of all the things I’m grateful for in my life.

  • Amazing friends I’m not sure I’d be ok without
  • The chance to have worked at a great paper and have more experience under my belt than I ever imagined in my first 18 months of work.
  • A really cool, easy horse who is the bees knees
  • A not-so-cuddly cat who’s a bit weird but I like him.
  • Parents who are going to have to put up with my being at home a lot for the next few months
  • New work and volunteer opportunities
  • A body that functions properly 90 per cent of the time
  • A bed all to myself
  • Chocolate
  • The ability to travel the world on my own and all the incredible things I’ve learnt

I’d go on, but that’s the gist of it. In the past few months life has become an incredibly interesting and slightly frightening place to navigate. I spent several days standing on the top of mountains screaming “I’M ALIVE”, I spent days dragging a 20kg bag around with me, I’ve walked more miles than I ever thought was possible in four months, I’ve faced some of my biggest fears, I’ve eaten scorpions, I’ve seen suffering and heartbreak, and I’ve had the chance to change my world view.

Now I’m here and in my 22nd year I’m excited about what’s going to happen now. There are so many paths and picking the ‘right’ one seems scary, but it’s just taking that first step. And I’ll take it. Once I do, there won’t be any stopping me! For now the ‘to do’ list simply has one thing: keep climbing mountains and I mean that both figuratively and literally.

Tomorrow I’m heading up north with dad to celebrate the first year anniversary of granddad passing away. It’s a chance for me to revisit places Alex and I spent a lot of time and accept that’s part of the past, and it’s a chance to grieve but also acknowledge just how amazing granddad was and how mum we miss him, but also how ok we’re going to be.

So on that note, I’m going to leave this post with a bunch of quotes I found on this blog:

“It’s better to have nobody than someone who is half there, or who doesn’t want to be there.”
Angelina Jolie

“You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you.”
Redvers Bailey

“I will not be your sometimes.”
Anonymous, Six Word Stories

“The hours between 12 AM and 6 AM have a funny habit of making you feel like you’re either on top of the world or under it.”

“I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give. Except for a rare few.”
Katie Kacvinsky

“The moment you feel like you have to prove your worth to someone is the moment to absolutely and utterly walk away.”
Alysia Harris

“Give yourself permission to immediately walk away from anything that gives you bad vibes. There is no need to explain or make sense of it. Just trust what you feel.”
Sonia Chuquette

“Nothing ever happens how you imagine it will.”
John Green

“Suddenly you’re 21 and you’re screaming along in the car to all the songs you listened to when you were sad in middle school and everything is different but everything is good.”

“There had been too much emotion, too much damage, too much everything.”
Ernest Hemingway

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but building the new.”

“If you don’t make time to work on creating the life you want, you’re eventually going to be forced to spend a LOT of time dealing with a life you DON’T want.”
Kevin Ngo

“We can judge our progress by the courage of our questions and the depth of our answers, our willingness to embrace what is true rather than what feels good.”
Carl Sagan

So just remember life is beautiful even when it feels like you’ve been sat on by a bus or a large horse. Always take a moment before you decided to get back up off the ground because the sky is pretty damn beautiful. If you’ve fallen face down though that doesn’t really apply, sometimes mud can be good for your skin. Just remember that. And if you’re lonely, get a cat…they’re remarkably uncomplicated, even the strange ones.

Now here’s a song.

Big open spaces

It was 11.37pm on November 1 when I finally changed my relationship status on Facebook. It might not seem like much but it was the last little moment of control. My room currently has boxes pilled in corners, blankets strewn everywhere, the horse float still has a few boxes and giant teddy bear, and I’m yet to attempt to unpack the biggest clothes box because my wardrobe is already full. In the past year I’ve cleaned out four large cardboard boxes of clothes and goodness knows how much other crap. But putting all my farm clothes, the ones I have absolutely no use for anywhere else in my life, in a bag ready for the second hand store, was it. That was the moment of certainty; this is my new life. I get to have a manicure, I can wear heals on the weekends, I can go out with my friends whenever I want, no more driving an hour every week. And it all seemed like small sacrifices but now without them, it suddenly feels like a huge weight has gone and I almost feel guilty about that. But I’m not one to wallow, ok well kind of, I wallow in epic amounts of sarcasm and dry, bitter humour, but in general I don’t like to dwell on things I can’t change. So I make the most of them.

It seems strange to reduce my life down to one room. Not two houses, just one room. My room. This is it. All of my things crammed into one space. I’d usually say all my life crammed into one space but it’s not what defines my life, far from it. I might be back in the same place in the same situation I was five years ago, but that’s not what my life amounts to. Part of me doesn’t want to unpack because I know I could well be moving again in a few months once I make up my mind of what I’m doing, but I can’t do that. I need to make somewhere home for now and this is it. I’m going through it all slowly and throwing out anything I don’t want. Nothing stays if it’s not wanted or needed and that in itself is therapeutic.

So far my plan of action has been to throw out any underwear that doesn’t make me feel comfortable and sexy. I put my pillow in the middle of the bed because I can have whatever side I want. I’ve cut my hair how I want it. I’ve worn heals out to lunch because I could. And I’ve taught the cat he can sleep on my bed. That in itself is a big deal, he refused to sleep on the bed until I moved him here…it’s our new start and we can be weird together. He still wont come out of the room for more than a few moments, and I get it, if I could I probably would hide in here too and sleep all day with him. Tomorrow I get Ivy back and she’s moving just up the road so even though there won’t be any riding for a while (thanks tailbone), I plan on taking her around the property and for big wanders on the lead because I have the time and there’s nothing quite like horse cuddles to make the world a better place.

I have some pretty cool friends and family who celebrated my birthday with me today. Only two more days until my actual birthday day! I’m feeling good. The beach looks amazing, I have my wardrobe back after four months living out of a suitcase, I have my bed all to myself, I have incredible people around me, I’m getting fit and heathy again after rather interesting food choices. It’s good, and I’m not just saying that to make myself believe it, I really am. I’m still angry sometimes, I’m still hurt a lot of the time, but I’m happy and I’m at peace. What more could you ask for really?

So week two of my return home begins. These next six weeks will be all about weddings for friends and brain storming where to next. And just like Charlie is terrified when he has big open spaces in front of him, I’m daunted and unsure what to do with all mine.

Until I know I’m just going to run around it like a crazy person on the loose.

And the continuous turn of events continues

When 2015 began I certainly didn’t see myself finishing it broke, jobless, and single. I also found my first grey hair today and I really wish that was the worst thing that had happened in the day. But it wasn’t. As I found myself sitting in my room of my parents home, the same room I lived in from ages 9 till 17, I couldn’t help but laugh at my life. I left five years ago after a break up, I left to study journalism in Hamilton and I had roughly $2,000 to my name. I was single, I had no job, I had very little money…but I did not have a grey hair. Now, five years later, I’ve returned with the same amount of money, no job, and single. It’s like nothing has changed yet I know everything has changed.

Here’s the thing about breaking up after four years: the world is a different place to navigate than the one I went into the relationship in. For starters, I’m now at an age where it’s like, do I make the change in relationship status public or private? When do I change it because I’m not quite ready to make it ‘official’ no matter how official it is. How do you go about dating again, not that that’s really on my to do list for some time. But how do you suddenly navigate a world where you’re suddenly four years older and have grey hairs appearing? A world where there are now things like Tinder? How do you actually even start again after four years turned into “I don’t feel the same way anymore” when you’d only just been talking about engagement and spending forever together less than six months before. Exactly how is it you get up and get on with life? The first thing people ask is how am I. I’m good. I’ve just come back from an amazing round the world trip and I have my horse back, I’ve found the perfect grazing for her just down the road, I have a cat, I have opportunities. I have an entire world at my feet…so I’m good.

But at the same time I feel like a truck has run over me because when I left, what I pictured coming back to was a very different landscape. My brain is still struggling to get itself around the fact I was in France a week ago and now I’m in New Zealand now it has to adapt to a whole new world.

And how do you go from picturing green paddocks and orchards and planting a veggie garden with someone to having no idea what the next step is?

Since I’m being honest, it’s also very hard to not decide to be a crazy cat lady forever when four out of five relationships have ended with “I just don’t feel the same way anymore”. Cool as guys. Super cool.

The best part about breaking up after one of the best breakup songs to date has just dropped: you ain’t alone in those tears. Cheers Adele.

So, let me reintroduce myself because this atomic bomb that’s gone off in slow motion over the past year has left me with a ringing in my ears and an inability to breath properly. I’m Sacha. I’m going to be 22 in a week, not even that. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. And I have two weddings to be the bridesmaid for. And I’ve got a broken tail bone. And I know at some stage my heart will heal from the pain of losing people, of the family dramas, of this break up. It will get better because I have a cat and I have a horse. I have a degree. And I’m still standing. Because I’m yet to find something in my 22 years that’s left me unable to get up again. That atomic bomb has sent me flying and I’ve probably cried more tears in the past 12 months than I’ve cried in my entire life. But it means I can still feel and the ringing in my ears is slowly easing and the dust is settling. And I’m going to be just fine.

Let’s do that again. I’m Sacha, I’ll be 22 shortly, I’ve travelled the world, I have a degree in communications (ironic at times), I have a diploma in journalism. I have a passion for helping people and I’m thinking about retraining and figuring out how to put all my skills to good use. I’m part of this cool organisation called YouthNet designed to help bridge gaps to see our youth suicide rate improve, actually I’d like us not to have one. I love to do yoga. I love God. I have an awesome horse called Ivy and a cat called Charlie, he’s a bit like me: he’s been through a bit of bullshit so he’s not too sure on the being too close to people thing, but he loves pats and he seems to love me. I’m not sure what’s going to happen in my life right now. I have a clean slate, I have a whole world ahead of me and I can do what I want with it. And I damn well will do just that. I can do that.

So to all the newly singles out there, cheers to you. And all those in great relationships: appreciate them.

Common, let’s do this.

Only just the beginning

This past year has been a road of self discovery. Now I don’t want to just jump in straight off the bat and get all deep and what not, but I’m like an onion, and this onion needs to share some layers.

Most of my ‘issues’ have been masked by my thyroid problem. And it’s a problem…but you can’t really use that as an excuse for everything.

So this year I started to dig up old things from the past. Perhaps because things are getting serious with Alex, or perhaps because I’m just at that stage in my life where I’m ready to face things and move on…but either way, there were more skeletons waiting in my closet that I realised.

For example, after being able to see, talk to, yell at, and move on from my first ever ‘love’ and find out that I wasn’t a crazy girl friend and he really was cheating on me, and get some sort of apology, I discovered where my sudden bursts of inability to commit came from.

I was terrified of committing. I would try to self destruct in every way possible. I would project all these things onto Alex and then shut down…and I had no idea why I was doing it. But, when those memories were triggered from all those years ago I suddenly realised just who I’d been angry at all this time.

But the biggest thing I have discovered recently is my fear of expectation and responsibility. It’s a bit funny really, because part of me loves that. I’m constantly putting myself in a position of responsibility, then freaking out and running. I’m still figuring out exactly where that comes from, but I have been working through it.

My biggest fear is marriage, no I’m no announcing anything, sorry.

I’ve been with Alex nearly four years now, so it’s expected it’s a conversation that comes up every now and then. Of course, there is the ‘when are you moving in together’ from other people, which is fine, that’s also expected, but it starts to bring back those fears of expectation and of responsibility.

Living with my little sister has been a trigger for it too, I love her to pieces and she’s been the best flatmate, but I’m her big sister, so naturally I’m the go to. And I love that. But part of me was also scared, perhaps scared of not knowing the right answers?

Because I don’t, I struggle to make up enough stuff to get through my own life.

Then there’s a reasonably pressured job, where my heart takes a dramatic dive when I get something wrong, and I shouldn’t get things wrong. So I live in constant fear that I have, because I don’t want to be wrong. I have this perfectionist side to me and I beat myself up over every little mistake for quite some time.

And having a baby horse, they’re actually a lot of work you know.

I found I was living in this bubble of ‘I’m not ready for this’ and ‘I’m going to screw it up’.

For me, deciding to travel is a way for me to step out of my bubble. Not run away, but get a new perspective. It’s giving me a chance to actually rely on myself so I know others can rely on me. It’s giving me a chance to grow with no one else needing me for a while…because I’ve never given myself that. I’ve never stepped out of my life and just figure out exactly what I like about me. And I need to know those things, I need to understand what it is that makes me so great, so I know what other people see.

Everyone needs that.

It’s scary. Life is really scary. But I think I’ve started to work through some of my skeletons and start throwing them out for good. I still freak out at the smallest commitments and I will be forever afraid to give the wrong advice, but I think I’m learning to be ready for what’s to come in life.

And I’m started to get excited for it. For my future, for our future. For all of it.

It’s only just the beginning.


I really need to stop having these 11.30pm sudden brainwaves for blogs, they are highly disruptive to my sleep patterns! Never the less, since I went to all the effort of reaching over and turing my computer back on I better follow through with my potentially tragic blog post.

I began this blog three years ago because I wanted to be honest. You know that kind of refreshing yet cringe worthy honest you don’t find many places now? Yep, I wanted to be that. And I feel like I did that almost too well at some points. But lately I’ve been really dropping the ball. There are several things I usually leave off the table when it comes to blogging: my relationship, my family, my job.

Mainly because: I still want to be in a relationship, I actually enjoy talking to my family, and it is also necessary to continue being employed. Ok so the last one is a little bit of an over exaggeration. But I thought it was about time I started sharing some of the tough parts I tend to just avoid on here…because they’re life. It’s all part of life. And what point is there in having an honest blog if I’m never honest?

Long distance relationships suck…really suck. We only live an hour apart so it’s actually not that long distance. But after nearly four years there are some things I’ve come to love and come to hate about it.

It’s easy to end up with no social life because you spend most weekends at their place, or yours if they actually make it that far (stab stab, I promised myself this would not be a bitch session), you find yourself acting like a control freak because you don’t want to see their friends during the little time you have with them, sometimes it’s kind of nice having separate lives and not having to speak to anyone in the evening, ‘moving in’ is not as simple as just shifting to their apartment – it’s actually a rather large decision and requires up rooting your entire life, going out for a lunch date feels weird, you get to make the most of time spent together, when things go bad they’re not just around the corner, but you have two of everything so your over night bag doesn’t need repacking every weekend.

So after a chat with my homeopath tonight it was established I have a personality which tends to attract the whole ‘responsibility thing’…I like to be organised, I’m fairly reliable if you don’t want to get somewhere on time, so generally speaking I’m quite good in a ‘motherly’ roll. The problem with that is the other side of my personality imagines disappearing with no waring when I feel large amounts of pressure to act consistently like a grown up.

After a fight with my boyfriend over what’s important in our lives, bloody rugby, and feeling like I constantly mother my sister and also feeling like I’m stuck on this treadmill going faster than I can run at work…I kind of feel like I want to crawl under the covers and never come out.

Because part of me also knows it’s my fault!

I am that ‘person’ for some people, and I try to be that person so that people need me, and it’s not just limited to people, I never let anyone else ride my horse for six years for crying out loud! I like to be needed. But I often forget I need to let myself just be me. And just enjoy being me.

This year was about being unapologetically me…and I think I lose sight of that often trying to be everyone else’s person. I get lost trying to keep up. But I can’t. I never could. Sometimes life just has really good little reminders for me.

I need to let go, I need to let people stand on their own two feet, I need to allow myself to be angry when I’m not ok with things, I need to find who and what I want to be as a journalist.

I need me more than anyone else right now…and I think I’m slowly getting there.

So here is to honesty, and more of it to come!

Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for crash landing.

Obligatory Valentines day post

Being kicked in the face by a cow puts a damper on any day, especially valentines day. (Alex got kicked, not me. If I did I would still be hysterically screaming and having a serious breakdown.)
As I see pictures swamping my Facebook page of people receiving cute things from their partners, or declaring how little they give a s*#& about the holiday because they’re single. Go have a freaking cry. Sorry, that was a bit mean. Being with someone on valentines day seems to be the thing people ‘want’. I laugh to myself in muffled and slightly dramatic, depressed chuckles. 

Having a partner on valentines day does not automatically mean you get to take part in this rather silly holiday, as many of those who are single would like to assume. 

Actually, to a degree I think it’s worse. If you’re single, you can just show the world the middle finger and go wallow in the nearest pool of self pity. When you’re taken, there is this weird expectation that you should have this cute and romantic day filled with love and wonderfulness. I mean, good on the people who do. Don’t get me wrong. I envy you to a degree. 

But I am a person who doesn’t seem to be overly ‘cute’ or ‘romantic’ or ‘sweet’, these things are limited to moments of insanity, birthdays, and when you’re on deaths door. Even then it’s pushing it. So if I’m not all of those expected valentines things, I can’t really expect Alex to be either. I mean, isn’t it a day where partners are meant to show love for each other? Yet so often women are whining about their boyfriend not doing anything for them… but they didn’t book a table or buy roses or scatter petals on the bed either… (some might, I am just generalising here). 

Anyway, that wasn’t even my point. Alex was going to send me pretty flowers at work, but then he hurt his face and that sort of cancelled those plans. Because he’s all puffy and missing teeth, he wants to hibernate, which I completely understand. I chipped a very small amount off my front tooth and had a major meltdown. I just can’t handle broken teeth. 

So I can’t really be mad, I can’t even really attempt to do anything romantic either. On top of that I just sort of think it’s a bit of a silly holiday… and I don’t have money to spend on gifts or dinner and I don’t even really have the energy. 

We have a movie night planned with a simple dinner (consisting of soft things that don’t require front teeth for), just chilling at home. I might even buy him flowers. I feel this is a perfect way to spend any evening with a loved one, and an even better way to spend valentines day. 

But I also will sit on Facebook staring longingly at the pretty flowers, and post pictures of the free food my boss supplied today. Free doughnuts and hot chocolate over flowers any day! 

Happy valentines day everyone 🙂

On the crazy train: part 1

It is not easy to move on. With each stage of life we stumble through, blindly hoping we make it out the other side (or others, confidently stomping their way through, marking their territory), we have to learn how to let go, and move on. 

As I lie here in my bed, with sheets that are due for a change and a room that looks like it has been burgled, I still can’t quite get my head around the fact this is the last night I will live with Melissa. Come Monday, it will be the end of my ‘student’ years and into the real, real world. Just like that I pop out the other side of three years of study, into my next stage of life. 

No fuss, no talking about it. Just like that. 

I have been watching a significant amount of Grey’s Anatomy lately in attempts to encourage tears. I’ve managed a few but nothing substantial for the incredible overwhelming sense of terror I feel. 

This is it, what I’ve been waiting for all my life. To get to this point. And quite frankly, now I am here I’d quite like to get back (or stay) in bed, pull the covers over my head, put on a sad tune or two and just go back to sleep. Wake up three years ago and just do it all again. Growing up is daunting . Actually, I think life is just daunting. There just seems to be a never ending flow of changes and problems and if it is not one thing, you can count on it being another. 

Worn out and too tired at 20. I don’t know how to feel about that, but I nearly hugged the bartender who asked for my ID. 

I am so wrapped up in all the new things bombarding me at the moment I can’t even muster enough anger to want to slap my sisters boyfriend, whom she recently broke up with. He’s been an ass and deserves a serving of crazy Sacha. But, I just can’t manage the emotion. It just up and left me. Now, I’m floundering around in this lack luster dream world, a sort of fog that has consumed my brain. 

I’m going to sleep, take more vit C and mentally beat my sisters ex. 

Then, tomorrow, I might conquer the world.

Share your money with me?

Today I heard very sweet words. I rarely talk about my boyfriend on here, something I should change because he really is a big part of my life. We try to meet each week for coffee, tonight was that night. Living an hour away from each other can make it hard at times when you just want each others company during a tough week so, we meet in a cute town half-way and have chips and coffee. Tonight we had a full dinner. It’s our thing and it’s lovely. 

Tonight the conversation took a turn in a new direction. We’ve been dating two years now and have many plans to spend forever together. Most people I have said this to, who know how young I am either stifle a laugh or tell me about the time they remember being so young and blah blah blah. I’m happy with my relationship, unbelievably happy. He is everything I want in a guy and more and I do have every intention and absolutely no doubts I will spend my life with him.

Any way, back to the conversation: 

A shared bank account. 

Lately we’ve been talking about serious things in our relationship and it’s taken the more ‘this is real’ road rather than cute, fun and carefree. I like that. Serious has to happen some time. But normally it is me instigating these serious moves so when he brought up a shared bank account my heart did this weird like floppy thing in my chest and that goofy, weird, somewhat creepy happy smile grabbed hold of my facial muscles. 

It’s just an account for us to put a little bit of money into each week to save up to spend on us as a couple, most likely a holiday. But it’s shared. That makes it committed. And he brought it up. 

I don’t even know why it made me so happy. It seems like the most sensible and logical thing to do. But it just made me happy. It made me feel lucky. 

I dream and I plan, but rarely does reality sink in that, yes, my life is in fact this whirlwind of wonderful things. Sure theres the hard times, but really, it is times when I look at him I realize my life is exactly what I want it to be. 

Yes I’m 19, yes I’m young but no, I’m not naive, I know what I want, I’ve had plenty of ‘experiences’ and I am more than happy to be with my perfect guy forever. I don’t want to settle down, I want to go on adventures with him. I just want this, what life is, to continue being.

I don’t know who took over my body but I like new Sacha… 

Growing up feels good. Life feels good. Summer is on it’s way.

Guard goose and vampires

Today they took my blood. It really hurt. It still really hurts. I then proceeded to snap at the lady who didn’t understand why I was returning a call I had been asked to return. I told her, in a very simple manner, why I was calling back and the information I was asked to give. If they have to take more of my blood because of her incompetence I will be mad. Very mad.

Today has been an interesting day. My class mates have established I am playing with fire when it comes to crash guy… well yea. Though I am staring down the barrel of the gun knowing the trigger will never be pulled. So really, I’m just playing with matches. That was too cryptic. I think my brain is still feeling the effects of losing 9 vials of its blood. I don’t like blood tests.

Either way, it looks like the tale of crash guy may be over. It often takes people a while (some not so long) to realise I am stubborn, only do things if they right or my boss says or I want to. If it’s work, always as my boss says… anything else in life – that’s on my terms. Not because I’m pig-headed, though I am, but because I do not believe there is any reason to do things that are running you into the ground and destroying your soul. I don’t really let people control how I feel and that seems to frustrate guys. Seemingly, particularly crash guy.

On the other hand, my boyfriend wants a pet ‘guard’ goose. I am considering this is where I draw the line at tolerance (seeing as he wont let me get a small dog) and crash guy might get what he’s after anyway. That is if he starts talking to me again. Perhaps I should learn to be less blunt. No, probably won’t. The editor in residence told me there wasn’t much a of line between what I thought and what I wrote… he’d be right. I should probably do something about that too.

So, if I do keep the boyfriend it will be without a goose.

And I really don’t like giving away my blood.