"To the Uneducated, an A is just three sticks". A.A. Milne

We are a tough clique, many outside do not understand the eccentricities and the bonds which keep us bound so tight despite our geographical separations. We have phrases, memories, symbols to which we live our lives by. We are individuals, and part of a collective. Misunderstood? Most probably. Happy? You could bet your life on it.

We follow our own paths, a Police woman and a Librarian. An Arts student and the girl yearning to get into International Relations. Then there is the Spanish student looking for her future husband in far off lands. 

We live in different places. The Blue Mountains, the Northern Beaches. Brisbane and Canberra. And far away Dunedin, NZ. Our future plans also cast the net further afield. Hong Kong, Korea, Monaco and god knows where else.

But physical separation doesn't define our relationship, we are forever bound by the beautiful memories and the balls moments that have made us laugh and cry since we forged our friendships. We have had the collective total of 6 major break ups, a miscarriage and a sexual assault, the loss of a father and a grandmother and a mothers battle with breast cancer. But these have all been lost in amongst the countless nights at the Carrington, the ridiculously long, lazy school lunches on the lawn and the millions of minutes we have spent laughing until we wet ourselves. 

I can only hope in 50 years time, this scene will not have changed. Our ages yes, our looks most probably, but the intensity and love that is our defining features? No.

Thomas, surprisingly good on his feet made it the whole way down standing up. Nick was less successful.  

Perhaps the single greatest day of my life. And I fully understand that a 30m piece of tarp, covered in liquid soap and pointing down a hill may not be everyones cup of tea but I cannot even begin to explain what this means to me.

In a whirl of woolen skirts and tailored slacks, the year 12 Valet throw themselves, together, at the big wide world and hope for the best.

"The innocent typeface. If comic sans was a man he would be morbidly obese, wear a purple suit with a necktie, have a toupee placed precariously on his head and cackle like a bitch."

Mikael, and his personality profile of Comic Sans MS.

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." Andy Warhol

I spent the first part of these last few weeks angry at my baby sister. I was so angry I stopped eating, and when my Mother force-fed me meals of soup (guilt eating) I was quickly rid of them. I was emotionally dead, nothing made me smile and I couldn't bear to leave my room, let alone my bed. I slept for the first 3 days after our fight. The worst part was, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't cry.

It took me nearly a week to join my family on the couch, simple pleasures such as watching Grand Designs with my Mum and sister were replaced with a sombre, eyes-wide-open sleep stretched across my bed. I emerged when I knew my sister had gone out, and it was only then I was able to collapse into my Mothers arms and sob. And sob. Choking, deep tears that had culminated over the week flowed from my eyes, down my cheeks and covered my Mums shoulders.

"You know Charlotte. When you were a little girl and I used to shout at Hannah, she used to run behind you and clutch your back. And you never let me near her. But when you were naughty, she would never come to help you".

It didn't make me feel better. But I knew what she was saying.

It has only been a few days since things changed. She approached the subject when I couldn't escape, picking me up from work and choosing the worlds longest route home. It was painful, gut-wrenching. I couldn't look at her as she explained away her doings. But I was no longer loathing, I could accept her poor excuses for a poor behaviour. And the balance of power shifted. I held the upper hand.

Stuck at a set of traffic lights. The night was dark, and the rain had misted the autumnal leaves lining the drive home. I was wrapped in shawls and scarfs, she was sitting cold in a thin cardigan, and glasses misted by the tears she was barely suppressing. She stuttered apology after apology until I told her to Stop.

I unwrapped the scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around hers. She grabbed my hand, and told me that she loves me. And as a small smile broke onto her face, I pulled away from her and curled myself up into a ball and told her "I know."

Setting the scene: Anthonys 30th birthday, a very cold, very merry April night. Friends, family and lots of foreign visitors. Anthony had dedicated his birthday speech to Henry, a two and a half year old nephew.

"Now everyone, please shut up. I want to talk to little Henry.

There was once a man who loved his family. He loved them very much, and he went down to the ocean

and he brought them back a bucket of water. Because he loved them.

Now, there was another man, he loved his family very much as well. He went down to the ocean and he brought

the whole ocean back to them. Because he loved them.

Cue peals and peals of laughter from everyone listening to the speeches.

Shut up everyone, this is important for Henry. Now Henry...

There was another man Henry, he went down to the ocean also, but he just went for a swim

and a bit of a surf. He loved his family, but he just went for a paddle.

And lastly there was one final man, he loved his family. When he went down to the ocean he stood there for a minute.

Looking out at the ocean he asked,

Why the fuck aren't I at Anthonys birthday?!"

Loves.

Simplicity. Some may call it 'budget' and 'basic' but nothing is more enjoyable to me than setting up on a piece of MDF taken from a building site (that has been lovingly customised by an artist friend) with take-away, a good bottle of wine and a jazz vinyl playing in the background. If things get raucous, wine gets spilt, it doesn't matter. It's the new disposable.

 

Omens. Everything and everywhere. I am a total believer in the idea that the future is already around us and it's your own fault if you cannot see what's coming.

Dressing up with no place to go. I am known for my race to the shops for milk and bread wearing feathers in my hair, fist fulls of golden rings and sheer cream layers. What is life if I can't wear my heels before midday?

Travel. I've been lucky enough to visit China twice and travel extensively around Asia but I keep finding reasons to go back. It's such a beautiful country (and continent), full of culture and spirit that is sadly lost on most of the Western World. Picnics at the Forbidden Palace, races up Football Hill, singing the Spice Girls in a remote English language school. Exploration is everything.

Ostentatious jewellery. Give me a bag of gold chains, large semi-precious stones and kitsch trinkets and I am in heaven. Soldered together by intense heat and a limitless imagination, nothing is more beautiful.

  

The Northern Beaches, far far North. Byron Bay and surrounding areas is a coastal version of my hometown. The characters and pace of life is so well suited to my personality. And nothing beats Byron during festival season. Or in the rain. Give me a beach and a storm cloud any day, I'll surf it whatever.

 

My Mum. Hands down the world's most amazing woman. No one has taught me about the world like she has. She inspired me with her courage to beat breast cancer, she has enriched me with her life lessons (and a pretty killer wardrobe), she has made me laugh in any situation. She puts her views aside to let me choose my own path, but she has held my hand when I've needed it. And my friends like cause she bakes for them. Such a good baker.

Growing up, out of the 'burbs. I can proudly call myself a country girl, as finally, after 21 years of life I am embracing my splendid isolation. And the City Kids don't have the paddocks for parties we do, nor can they drive less than an hour to fantastic lakes for water skiing, or to wide open spaces where you can pull out your moto for a quick ride. Our farmers markets are actually frequented by the farmers themselves, who duck back home if they run out of that 'must have' loaf of olive and rosemary bread that they'll deliver to your place that night. And it is only 2 hours from Sydney...

"So come on! Get live with us".

Melbourne, look out. Jumbledat have left home and moved in on your territory. Let them sooth you with their jazz and make your heart race with hip-hop lyrics straight from the soul. A unique brand of funk, a fusion never before seen. It's only a matter of time before you love them like we do.

Wait until this loads, the regret won't be worth it.

http://jumbledat.com.au

Why are you doing this? I have two very large essays to do, and if I don't take a break I will slowly turn into an opium-addicted knowledge base of all things anthropological. What do you hear right now? Made Concrete by the Republic Tigers and the water trickling out the mouth of the Lion on the back deck. What was the last alcoholic beverage you had? My Mumere's wicked Mojito last night. So good, so Mojito! You run into your ex, what do you say? A Hi-Hiii, and probably ask him about the lack of shirt. Three run ins this week, and no shirt - every time! Describe yourself in one word. Inconsequential. If you were an animal, what would you be? Bambi, all doe eyes and pretty colours. You've won a Million dollars, what do you do with it? By a large country house with beautiful big gardens. I'll put up a teepee and fairy lights and I'll invite my friends round for fairy bread, tea and gin. You have one day to live, what do you do? Lay in my teepee and play folk music, decked in fur and (naturally) high as a kite. I'd make all my friends come over and we'd sing about the future. Is your love life complicated? No, I like him. He also likes himself. This could be truly beautiful. When was the last time you laughed? When Dad asked Hannah to put the freshly baked cookies away and she purposely broke every second one so that she could justify eating them. If you were a food, what would you be? A fig, beautiful in everything. Do you sleep alone or with someone? Alone, my room isn't a charge by the hour room. What was the last compliment you received? "Yes, oooh. Coffee soooooo nice and hot! Look, beautiful alabaster skin. Hot coffee and creamy skin!" If you could change your name, would you? No, but if it was a life or death matter I could easily go by the name Deliah. Or Primrose. How did you meet the last person who saw you naked? In the supermarket, oddly enough. Do you hate people who take drugs? I'm going to say no, because I simply do not care enough to hate. But it is an intense dislike. Are you wearing any jewellery? My great grandmas wedding ring and my Daisy pendant. My two most defining pieces. What are you doing tomorrow?I'm spending the day with my baby sister at her Uni, having intelligent discussions about the universe and drinking bad, student priced coffee. You have to get a tattoo, what do you get? A small circle on my inner left wrist. Are there song lyrics that describe your current mood? Give Him The Oooh-La-La by the Blossom Dearie. Has anyone ever changed your life? My best friends did. What was the last thing someone gave you? Their sense of humour. And their time. What do you think about naked food fights? All for nudity, all for food, all for fighting. 

"We don't need anymore Heroes, we just need someone to take out the recycling".

It had become known as the world's longest running 'nearly' relationship. They have been passing each other by for years, going to make the jump and then finding ourselves settled in the arms of another. Their simple friendship has maintained itself, irregular coffee dates and the occasional late night phone talks about life, love and lingering memories.

After a strained distance, imposed by an overly jealous girlfriend, they found themselves back at the start. Single, and what seemed to be, searching. Not that they were searching for anyone, she was searching just for him and he just for her. And, like it had always been, they fell together in a blissful state of not-so together. 

Trust is a big issue when finding someone to call your own, they have to hold yours and you theirs. One of the most defining mutual keys to a healthy relationship. He called her over, to spend some time and to while away a lonely Tuesday night, but they both sensed it in their tone that this was the moment. Never one to leave her home for a guy (or be generally spontaneous), she packed a bag and left. He knew everything about her, the events of the past year scarred her physically and mentally and he never had pushed her towards anything, she trusted him explicitly. 

They settled themselves on a giant, cushion laden couch. They looked like a pair of hippy wanders, all braids, rasta beanies and a beaded simplicity. No longer were they 'just friends' as he picked up his guitar and sang to her, about streetlights and remembering past woes. He interrupted himself, kissed her quickly, and went back to singing. A seamless transaction that marked the start of something new. It did truly, change everything.

She stayed the night, they fell asleep wrapped around each other, starring up at a roof full of tribal artworks scattered with lights reflecting the moonlight off glass. It was one of those beautifully, serene moments where they could feel beating of each others hearts. Faster, faster as they declared that this is what they had both been waiting for. Faster, faster as he kissed her head and told her she was the girl.

Morning brought the challenge, in the light of day they were both dishevelled messes of loose clothing and they had fallen asleep surrounded by sheets of music and half empty glasses. The realisation they had broken the barriers that had held their friendship together for so long dawned on them as he drove her to work. Not a single word was spoken.

"I like you, but I can't be your rebound". "I can't be in a relationship". "I won't sleep with you, it's not fair". "You want this too". "No I don't, I just want you. Not some lacklustre form of you".

They now spend their days attacking their silent war from different fronts, the one who wants it all, and the one who wants the most undignified form of relationship imaginable. They call each other in the hope of convincing the other that what they want is the right thing for both of them. It fails every time. And now there is a hole, marking their mutual mistake in believing friendships can survive the next step.

Trust, the most defining marker.

I, like many others before me, know how hard The Break-Up is. You cry and scream and kick and try to justify all the horrible things shouted in the heat of the moment with the simple aim of getting back the good times. A whole year has transpired since I poured my soul out in the back alleys of Darlinghurst, reasoning with my head and heart that it was time to move on. He cried, I cried. We were over.

Walt West once stated,

"The trouble with doing something right the first time is that nobody appreciates how difficult it was".

It seems like breaking up, making up or moving on are rights of passage. Yet I barely survived the first round. I have friends who go through partners monthly, moving in together and meeting families. There is one friend in particular who calls me regularly to update on her breakings and makings and to check and see if I too am following down the same path of blissful coupledom. But no, I'm not.

My friend vehemently believes in the healing power of man - literally. Without becoming personal, you would think that after the internal struggle, weighing up the good and bad in your relationship and deciding it is best (despite all the amazing points about it) to be separate, you'd like some time to chill. Or not. I personally have done the whole shenanigan once and once is more than enough for me.

Kleenex is in business thanks to my months of crying and my moral compass is still recovering after the million nights of overtime, seeing if it could handle a future based on the habits of another that were so removed from what it believed in. And it's true what has been said, no one understands how difficult it was. Or still is.

So, please don't judge my (never-ending) dating hiatus. What comes from doing the right thing is still feeling wrong.

"And we'd talk, 'bout the future. And wondered if the street lights burnt for anyone else".

I have some very talented friends, blessed with creative abilities that I could never dream of attaining. One of these very talented people is Andrew, a 20-year old singer/songwriter I met years and years ago when we were both young and separated by school rugby rivalries. His music, lyrics. Amazing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTQb2MKCLd0&feature=channel_page

1. I have come to realise that my last kiss was...inappropriate to say the least, and also public. Both of which I detest with a passion. 2. I am listening to...early, early Boyz II Men and the sound of my lungs being coughed up. Charming, charming sounds. 3. I talk... when needed. I love silence over any other sound. 4. I love...my family, my friends and the creative genius of other people. 5. My best friends...are irreplaceable. Even though we live in different countries and states I know that if I need them, or they need me, a plane ride is the least we can do for each other. 6. My first real kiss...was inside a tunnel, we were too young to deal with the consequences of our innocent actions. 7. Love is...a beautiful, impossible force. 8. Marriage is...not for me, just yet. 9. Somewhere, someone is...holding the keys to eternal happiness. I just need to find them and grill them. 10. I'll always...come back home, whether it be Sydney or the Blue Mountains. My life truly is the gorgeous National Parks, amazing bushwalks and chilled out vibe that no city-Kid really ever understands. 11. The last time I really cried was...when it all became too much. 12. My cell phone...is always on silent. I don't like the loud, beeping noises that others seem to deem a symbol of their popularity. 13. When I wake up in the morning...it is always to a hot cup of black chai waiting for me. 14. Before I go to bed...I check under my bed. A childhood habit. 15. Right now I am thinking about...tomorrow. It involves work, new Metalicus and a good old-fashioned catch up with my Nanny. 16. Babies are...gorgeous but seriously underestimated in terms of financial and emotional tolls. And are not for the faint hearted. 17. I get on Facebook...too much, I need to ween myself off. 18. Today I...spent quality time with my Mum. She really is the tower of strength in my family. 19. Tomorrow I will be...busy being everything to everyone. But that works for me. 20. I really want to be...me. The honest, me.

February, 09 - Relishing the coming of age and multi-faceted friendships.

The beautiful, casual affair that was Skye's 18th birthday. So many different age groups, so many different friendships. Brothers, sisters, best friends.

January, 09 - Celebrating moving on & moving upwards.

Taking the beautiful Ruby and the ever lovely Victoria to High Tea at Lilianfel's Spa & Resort, Leura before their big moves. 

(For a full photographic recap, please visit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8211348@NO8/sets/72157612959304668 )

January, 09 - Celebrating the finer things in life such as friendship, falls and frills.

Marking Victoria's last night in the Mountains before she joins Mumma Sue and Jack in Canberra to take up a position with the Government (thank God it should only last 6 months).

(For a full photographic recap, please visit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8211348@NO8 )

Introductions.

I have a serious love of art and interior deisgn. I like magnolias, gardenias and daisies. I'm also a passionate Vegetarian (minus the occasional fish).

In 5 years time I'll be loafing round my loft apartment looking out over Victoria Harbour, HK. Still following the moon.