My fine Italian

Is it happening? Am I actually writing about my hilarious dating dabbles?
I think so. Help. (Genuinely please, I am awkward and useless at this)

You guys.

I’ve recently dipped my toe in the dangerous waters of dating, with none other than a beautiful Italian man. Seriously, beautiful doesn’t even cut it. An honest, predominantly vegetarian, funny, intelligent, well travelled, upfront, tall, dark (unbelievably) handsome Italian man, who I couldn’t really fault (no one’s perfect) but no big red flags are out.

So naturally I have very little romantic interest in him.
Maybe because he’s 34 and I feel a little odd about that. I’m not one to be wary of age gaps (I once dated a guy my own age and that lasted approx 3 weeks because we just were not on the same wave. Being 17 and me being massively dramatic *probably* did not help.)
Anyway.
34 is 11 years older than me. It’s not that it bothers me, I mean, he’s older than both my siblings but again, meh. Nearly all the women in my family have gone for older men, and I was brought up in mainly adult company. My siblings are both 7+ years older than me and I’ve kind of had to do a lot of very quick growing up at times in my life, so I do feel a wee bit older than what I am. Anyway, back to Mario* (his name), he ticks all of my boxes, he is a genuine pleasure to be around. I really like the way he pronounces words, when he can’t think of a word in English and spiels off in Italian? Staaahppp.
On paper we should really be pretty great. In reality, I feel like I’m trying really hard to force a connection. I’m definitely(until I talk myself out of our next date) going to carry on seeing him until I’m sure that I’m not self sabotaging and actually just don’t have feelings for dreamy Italian.
I know he travels a lot for work, and he’s lived and worked in more countries than you could imagine, his background is seriously impressive and he genuinely loves what he does. I think maybe I’m holding off because he could also, at the drop of a hat, move again. And I know I’m a hypocrite because I’ve done that 4 times, 3/4 times leaving a man behind those doors of an airport. Gulp.
I don’t know. There’s no reason for this. I’ve been on dates fractionally as successful and had the absolute flutters, just not this time?
Even I know, I’m in luck here. He is so open and honest, upfront, doesn’t keep me hanging, I know exactly where I stand, which are qualities I really want in a prospective partner. There’s no bad feelings, it’s not like a person who is too keen which would make me shudder, there’s just nothing. Nothing telling me to run, but nothing telling me to run after him either.

I’m also kind of a stranger to this dating thing, actual consistent dates, it’s new to me. Maybe if there’s nothing there I should just leave it, probably stay friends because we get on like a house on fire. Who knows? (If you know, please help me.)

Until next time, and as ever, clear skies are pretty much here, cloudy mind is definitely here.

*Names have been changed.

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Again

Yeah, I know I literally only write to you when I need you and I’m THAT kind of friend; for that, I apologise.
I feel like when life gets too much, I have to write about it. It helps me understand my situation and how I feel about it. It helps me rationalise things, I can be a super emotional person and sometimes, in volatile situations and when life is up in the air, I tend to act based on how I feel and not what’s sensible, before I’ve calmed down and had a word with myself.
I guess I post it because it might make someone else feel like they’re not the only one without their shit together and that’s what I’m about – creating a united front of completely average to below average luck. Hoorah.

I’m going to start with something that’s been bumming me out for nearly two years. I definitely need to do something about it but that requires talking about my feelings which is not my forte. I don’t know how to bring it up and I don’t think it matters to the person in question so yeah, it’s really difficult situation but I have a lot to say that I just walked away from because the message I got from an action was very clear. The messages I’ve gotten since are not so clear. Ambiguous, aloof.. Ghosting and randomly reappearing in my life etc.  Unresolved feelings and unfinished business and not being communicated with and having something honestly explained. It eats me up. And as much as I wish I could shrug it off and walk away from it, I just can’t.
Anyway. I don’t know. Watch this space? Maybe I need to make a better effort of moving on. And just wiping this all from my mind. Obviously I’ve written about this extensively in private for my own eyes and sanity but it’s still largely unresolved for me. Pray 4 av.

Secondly.
If you know me/have tolerated so many of my social media spamming of my room and reading nook, kitchen, kitchen door etc (sob) you’d know that I was literally in love with this house. I’m not going to air out my dirty laundry online because I’m an adult and not about that life. I’ve had to move out and I’m genuinely really upset about the whole situation and I’m not even out of it yet and I very much want everything to be over so I can move on with my life and remove myself from a negative situation that I’m forever being drawn back into. IT SUCKS. It hurts. Everything hurts. I just want it to be over.
I guess this has made me quite aloof and withdrawn. I’m definitely upset and I definitely ugly cried in the bath last night because everything got a bit much. I feel like everyone has done this. So I’m okay with having done that. It’s been a while.

Other than that… Life’s good. I’m enjoying uni, I’m going to Canada on a conference for students as partners which is something I’m super passionate about, I’m dead excited to take part in it. I’m really proud of myself recently. And it’s spring, I’m busy, I’ve got loads of cool opportunities ahead of me and yeah. Fun.

sorry that it’s short and sweet, full of ramblings and mostly unstructured. I guess I’m 90% stress and 10% enjoying life but I’m really loving that 10% and taking pleasure in the fact that it’s my future, whilst this stuff going on with my house right now will hopefully, soon be the past.

I’m an advocate for being honest, even when it’s bad. So yeah. I’d be rubbish if I preached honesty but didn’t practise it myself.
Here’s a picture of a dog to make this worthwhile. I think it’s expression reflects my thoughts.
small-dog-stock

I hope you’re all having good luck and enjoying all the daffodils out at the moment.

Peace & love always,
Av
X

 

Hello, it’s me…

It’s been a couple of years… Sorry for that. I promise this isn’t a booty call (it is. I’m actually so busy that I can’t promise the next time I’ll write.)

Quick update on life:
Moved back to the UK in November 2014.
Hurt myself pretty bad.
Gained a beautiful niece (Big up Ella, and my sister.)
Moved back to Aus January 2016.
Watched my Dad graduate! (Coolest moment ever.)
My cat died.
Moved back to the UK in July 2016.
Started uni.
Moved into a house full of wonderful crazy housemates.
Won a battle with the government.
In a nutshell… I think?

Swings and roundabouts.

Maybe one day I’ll be continuous and let you know the fiddly in-between bits. I basically got cold feet. Then really hot feet.
Get it?

So where are we now?
I am sat on my bed in my uni house (in Southampton), with half wrapped presents beside me, I’ve just finished a solid 10 minute stress cry.
I hate this time of year. I get so excited about Christmas and then Christmas starts happening and I just want to press pause and breathe.
I’m wrapping my nephew and nieces christmas presents and my heart (oh God, my heart) is in pieces. I hate that I won’t be there to open their presents. I also hate how I’m so limited on what I can give them because toys are so chunky and difficult to send to the other side of the world. Every time I look at Harry’s little shirt I just want to cuddle him, and very much the same with Ella’s. I wish I could talk to them about santa and see their faces light up. Harry probably understands a lot more than Ella does about him.
And my Dad, and my Sister. I am missing them all so much at the moment. I know it’s really annoying for me to complain when I have family on the other side of the world because it’s so cool and I get the opportunity to go visit them and see the world and yes, it’s amazing, and yes, it’s also the worst life.
There’s nothing more I want in this entire world than the chance to be able to live in the same city/country/continent as my family. This whole worlds apart thing? Starting to really get on my tits.
As I get older it’s something that becomes more and more important to me. And at the same time, more and more unrealistic. And it breaks my heart.
In an ideal world, I would be able to spend 6 months in either country. Unfortunately, I can’t. Maybe once I have a few mil’ in the bank.

I miss my Dad. We had so much fun when I was there. We played frisbee, started running together, we hung out every day and just got on like a house on fire, which is really amazing and then really awful to not have anymore. I miss my sister. I miss my best friend and having someone else to take the piss out of Dad. To back me up on things and sing in the car with. I have loads of lovely friends and wonderful housemates that I genuinely adore, I do. But, there’s nothing quite like them. And I’m sad about it. I love family, I love it when family do family things, and they do family things a lot. They make me feel like I’m in a family. Which obviously I am but they really make me feel it, without trying, and that’s what I’m about. I’ll probably live my life trying to recreate that as much as I can.

I hate this distance.

On the flip side, like I mentioned, my friends are great. My Best friends are so close to me (One even moved from London to Brighton which is closer and cheaper YAY.)
My best friend also got another Pug this year and now owns a home which is scArY because when did adults happen? But also great, I love seeing how happy she is and it’s amazing. Her bf is also great, they’re my favourite couple.

I had a lil p a r t a y on Friday which was really fun. I had so many of my favourite friends in one place and that was so much fun. I turn 23 next week and that’s insane. When did I get old?

I’m also seeing a surgeon on Thursday about my hip/spine/whatever else has fallen apart since my last appointment. I did some gymnastics in my last stint back in the UK and I hurt myself irreversibly and now can no longer exercise whatsoever, or, walk without pain killers that I take every day. Pretty fun.
Exercise has always been my expression, it’s how I’ve gotten my frustrations out and I think especially right now, this week while I’m feeling like this, I need it and can’t have it. I’m also scared about what I’ll be told about this surgery. Of there will be surgery. Or what. I don’t know. I hate not knowing (#Controlfreak)
It’s making me freak out about my weight, what I eat, what I look like, how my clothes fit, etc. I’m over it. I just want a working body back. I want to be back in control.

The last surgeon I saw was a jackass and a half and made me feel so belittled. I’ve never been spoken to like that before which was interesting. So this time I’m taking a list of questions, problems, etc. I’m also going to record it on my dictaphone so that I can go home and gain clarity on things I’ll definitely over think.

Anyway. This was just a ‘get it all off my chest’ post. I’ll try finish wrapping these presents without crying much more. (no promises.)

Av x

2014

I finish 2014 somewhere I didn’t expect to, and with more of a heavy heart than I wanted to.

However, sometimes you need to return to base, gather your scattered mind and then build yourself up to go again, and that’s what I’m doing.
It’s really vital to know when you need to take yourself out of a place or situation, and it’s even more important to put yourself where you know you have more of a chance to recover and be stable.

It’s been an eventful year, most of it I’d prefer not to dwell on. But I got a lifelong dream out of it, and a strong relationship with my Dad, which is what I set out to do in the first place.

I got permanent residency in Australia, I got the relationship with my dad I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, I got new experiences with an incredible team of people (S/O to my Gladiators!), I got new best friends, new memories with my family and a strength I didn’t know I was capable of.
And I think most importantly, (though unfortunately) because of something terrible that happened, I turned my anger, upset, all negative feelings into starting something that I’m so proud of and can’t wait to officially start.

I came home because I didn’t feel safe in Perth, or really anywhere. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the world and that was so scary, so I will be the first to admit I ran home to mummy, and I’m glad I did. It’s been a whirlwind of emotions for me this year and I just couldn’t handle anything else, I needed some mental rehabilitation. And I feel incredibly at peace in my home, I was able to sleep for days stress free, worry about absolutely nothing and have next to no responsibilities, until I had a bit more capacity to think about things and life, and I knew when I’d have a little freak out I was able to bring myself back to earth a lot faster here than in Perth. For no reason other than this has been my home for 14 years, and it’s the most familiar place in the world for me. I’m totally unashamed to admit that, you need familiarity sometimes.

I’m genuinely excited for 2015. I can’t wait to fully dive back into cheerleading and gymnastics once my injury has healed. &
I can’t wait to get back into a normal life. Though I know it’s going to take time, I’m definitely getting there, and it’s without a doubt all thanks to my family and friends for helping me get there.

So thank you to everyone who got me through 2014 and thank you for the good times it held also, it has been one hell of a year.
Here’s to 2015, I can’t wait.
x

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The importance of putting yourself in others’ shoes.

This is a post mainly to clear up or explain behaviour, mainly of mine I suppose, but it would be relatable to anyone in this position/similar circumstance.

So in November, 2013, I moved from the UK to Australia.
My Mum, Stepdad, Cousins, Aunt, Boyfriends, Friends all were in the UK, and my Dad, Sister (and her newborn) and my Brother (Along with their own little families) were all over here.

I always loved Australia. But my sister fell pregnant and that was the decider for me – the big push. It’s a really big struggle growing up without half of your family. For most of my life I’ve been on the other side of the world to my other half of my family.

Don’t get me wrong, nothing was wrong with the UK, or my situation there, it just wasn’t going to grow me as a person. I knew I had a lot more opportunities over here.

It was an easy decision to make, but it wasn’t an easy thing to do.
I have recurring dreams of saying goodbye to my Mum, Stepdad and Boyfriend at the time, at the airport. I remember their faces, what they were wearing, every detail and I wake up feeling sick.
However.

I also remember seeing my nephew for the first time.
The baby grow he was wearing, his weight at the time, I remember what I had for dinner the first dinner I had with my sister. I remember what we watched on TV, what time we went to bed and what time she woke me up.

Love is a funny old thing. I’ve craved a strong relationship with my family here for the majority of my life.
I also have so much love for the UK.

Being in Australia hasn’t been a smooth road, nor is any journey.
I had so many problems with immigration and 7 painful months of not knowing where I was going to be within the next month.
Finally my permanent residency was granted and I got to go back to the UK for a couple of weeks.
It was an incredible two weeks, I appreciated people and the places so much more. I really loved my time there, and truth be told, I didn’t want to come back and it was a huge struggle to push myself to get on the plane.

I miss my folks desperately. I miss my best friends, my friends, my acquaintances and the shitty little parks in Southampton. My heart absolutely aches for it, and some days, no lie, I am so homesick I spend the best part of my day running to the loo to vomit, it physically nauseates me how much I miss home.

However.
I’ve gotten to see my Nephew grow up, I’ve finally got/am getting the relationships I want.
I’m in uni, doing a good degree at a great university.
I have a job in a law firm which is going to open a hundred and one bright and bold doors for me.
I’m 20. I’ve moved across the world twice. I work in a place that people with masters degrees couldn’t even get unless they were lucky.
Who else can say that?

I’ve found a best friend here, a couple actually.

I see myself here, I plan my future here. I wish I could bring my friends and family here, then life would be perfect, but that’s never going to happen.

I thought recently I might have to go back to the UK because something was feeling wrong. I didn’t think this was going to work out, but I’ve found a way around that problem now and I’m staying.

I’m the kind of person who likes a plan b. I can’t sleep without a plan b, sometimes even C.
When these issues arose, my plan B was the UK. I’d called uni’s there and made appropriate enquiries. I’d looked at dates I’d fly on.
I like to be organised, planned, in case I’m left up shit creek without a paddle. I like knowing I have something to go to.

Unfortunately this ruffled some feathers.
It ruffled some here when I thought about going back, because the people here didn’t want me to leave.
It ruffled some at home when I decided to stay here.

So I’d like to elaborate.

To my loved ones in Australia:
Just because I’m homesick, doesn’t mean I want to go home.
Just because I have a bad day, doesn’t mean I want to go home.
Just because I talk to my friends and family there every day, doesn’t mean I want to go home. Doesn’t mean I love anyone more than you guys, doesn’t mean anyone’s superior to my heart.

Part of me does want to go home, of course. It would be easy. I’d go back to working in a bar with my best friends, getting black out drunk every friday, having nearly no responsibilities, no real purpose.
I’d live with my parents, have my dinner cooked and my groceries bought and a cuddle every time I got upset. I’d not worry about finances, I’d have all my friends around me when times got tough.

And to my loved ones in the UK:
Just because I’m happy here doesn’t mean don’t miss home. Just because I have new friends here, doesn’t mean I don’t DESPERATELY want the ones at home!
Just because I have a good day doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you!
I am constantly thinking of you, how much some of you would like it here. Of how much I’d like you to be here, a direct few who I’ve pestered non stop to come out.. ahem.

But that’s just it, I want to share my new home with you all. I want you to see and understand why I stick it out.
It isn’t easy.

I’m aware of my decisions. Always have been.
I made a decision to move here, I’m going to follow it through.
This is my future home. England will always, always have a strong grip on my heart and when times get tough there’s nothing I want more than to run home to my mum, have a cup of tea, fall asleep on the couch and then go to work until midnight and go off to popworld or unit after.

I’m in the middle of becoming established over here in the field of work I want to build myself professionally in.
I’m in the middle of being the best Aunt, sister, sister in law, daughter, step daughter, step sister, best friend, employee, student I can possibly be!

So I suppose what I want to explain to both sides of the world here, is that this isn’t easy for me. I know it isn’t for you, either.

But when I get sad, it doesn’t mean I want to leave, or come back.
I’m a human, I’m going to get homesick. I’m going to wish I was snuggled up with a familiar face at home with all my friends within 2 hours of me.

When I get sad, it doesn’t mean I want to throw in the towel here and go home.
I started to pretend I wasn’t homesick because every time I mentioned I was I could see physical PANIC on everyone’s face that I was going to run to Qantas and cry until they put me on a plane.

Unless you’ve been in the position of deciding between two countries, two sets of families and two sets of friends, you will never, ever understand the heartache of doing something like this.

I just want to reassure people that I haven’t forgotten about them. I always think about my friends and family there!

And I don’t want my family and friends here to think I don’t appreciate everything they’ve done because they’ve done more than I could ask for.

I’m human, I’m happy here but I’m going to be unhappy sometimes.

If I could have it my way I’d live here, with all of my UK friends and family.
But you can’t have your cake and eat it too.
I have to get on with my life and start making something of myself.
Don’t hate me for having good days, don’t resent me for having bad.

I love you.
xxxx

5 reasons being single is super crazy amazing.

Something I’ve established in the last month or so, is how good being single is.
Here is why.
1 – Train romance
What’s better than making a bit of awkward eye contact or someone’s hand accidentally firmly grasping your behind because the train is so packed?
Nothing. It’s mysterious and endearing all at the same time. And occasionally you come across a seriously attractive human and you have approximately 14 minutes to pretend to stare out the window but really look at them. What’s better?

2 – Noticing when you, yourself, are being a total twat.
I myself in a relationship would flip out at any problem with any person other than my significant other because I did not have an ounce of energy to give to another person.
You also think everyone else is being a dick when they’re really not. This is because your significant other is so lovey dovey and doesn’t have to be the other person having a conversation with you, when all you talk about is your significant other.
Which brings me nicely onto my next point.

3 – Conversations which do not involve
“He sent me the cutest selfie today”
“Oh my god, watch this video of – ”
“Hey do you reckon I should send him this?”
“I had the BEST sex last night” (This one especially when you yourself haven’t had good sex in… 5 months. what)
This actually benefits your social circle more than anything.
And you are probably a perpetrator of using every one of those points in one single conversation. It should be limited to one a week.
Talk about current affairs. Or anything, hell go crazy.

4 – Family value.
You know those people you grew up with and got you where you are today? Loved you unconditionally and through your tantrums?
Yeah those.

5 – cuddle pillows.
Both of my ex boyfriends used to get a bit annoyed when I’d cuddle my pillow instead of them.
a) In summer, even warmer winter nights, I do not need someone else’s body heat, THANKS.
b) I can roll all over my cuddle pillow, put me knee any damn where and not worry about the lack of children I will have because I just curled up.
c) They don’t snore or move or fidget (I’m a TERRIBLE fidgeter, as if I need another one)
d) You’ll never catch them staring at you when you wake up. As nice as it is sometimes, the last thing I want to hear after a deep slumber is “You are so beautiful in the morning” and not knowing if it’s sarcastic or what.
e) There’s no wind slips.
The number of times I’ve woken up from my boyfriend’s flatulence. No.
f) There’s no one to judge you when you have an extra 20 in bed instead of taking a shower before work. sue me I’m disgusting.

 

 

You probably shouldn’t take these too seriously but if you do find yourself being that friend that only cares about your significant other, change something, it is so annoying.

 

Happy=Sad

Let me explain this in more detail:
The happier I get, the sadder I get. It’s really hard to explain now I try to get it down into words instead of feelings.

I welcome homesickness, because it reminds me where I’ve come from, how hard I’ve worked to get here and the achievements I’ve made to be here today.
I also appreciate it because; I never appreciated Southampton when I was there. It is a grubby little town, but it was my grubby little town. I knew all the shortcuts to work, to college. I knew all the places to park at all times of the day. I knew if I popped into Unit there’d always be a familiar and friendly face.
I’d go into work knowing at some point during the day/night I’d serve one of my best friends, and I got to hang out with my best friends and get paid for it.

I know that after work either my gorgeous Mum or Stepdad would welcome me home with a cup of tea and some familiarity and love.
For the best 9 months of my life, I knew that when I’d wake up I’d probably be seeing my (at the time) boyfriend. I knew I’d be exceptionally happy at some point of the day because someone thought the world of me and they’d give up such an amount of time to hang with me. I’d probably wake up with him the next day.
I knew that if I wanted to see my best friend, I could see her in half an hour.
I knew that if I had a bad day and wanted to blow some steam, I had her, or a handful of people to call to talk to, or go out with.

So I appreciate homesickness because it makes me appreciate home. Something no one does enough.

I have really, really good days,  and then I have some pretty awful ones.
Although I have my Dad and sister here, the relationships are nothing like the ones I have at home. And some days, today being one of them, I would so quickly jump back on a plane and spend a night with my best friends, whether it’s just fucking around in the DJ booth with Dav and Dani or it’s doing a number of shots with my work mates, or if it’s with Lauren, or Max, or my parents, or fucking anything familiar.

My good days are great though. There’s nothing like waking up at 5 and heading to the beach and being greeted by a community of runners and walkers and the views are really fantastic.
And I obviously love my sister and Dad, and it’s great being here with them. I don’t really have a ‘but’ for that. It’s what I’ve wanted for the best part of 10 years and now I have it, and no it’s not exactly what I thought it would be, but it’s pretty damn close.

On another note,
How many people can say they moved to the other side of the world when they were 19? Having only 2 people here, leaving a boyfriend, a family, a group of super crazy fantastic friends,  leaving everything I knew to explore a new adventure and to make something of myself and become successful. I’m really proud of myself, because I think what I’ve done is not something a lot of people could do. I’m proud of my drive, my ambition and my ability to constantly work for and get what I want. I’ve done really well and I’m so excited to start Uni and work and start really working towards my future, and my family’s future.

And afterall, some fit bird with a good pair of lungs once said “The blood in these veins isn’t pumping any less than it ever has” and I think that’s quite relevant.

Thanks for reading,

Av

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