twenty.

On facebook just now, I was getting told by a friend that she could not stop staring at my cleavage in this photo. She said she was in awe of my boobs. I pointed out that although they are pretty to look at, they are rather heavy and something of a hindrance when doing...most things really. This made me remember how my woman is constantly ranting on about how heavy they are to hold.

About two weeks ago my parents were selling off some of my step-nans wares to move her into a smaller abode. There were some gorgeous old yellow kitchen scales there that I simply had to have.

This conversation with H made my light-bulb flicker (it doesn't light up anymore, it just flickers due to lack of use). I dug out these scales, lifted my shirt and flopped a single boob onto the scale. Just under a pound and a half. The other. Just on a pound and a half. Break out the online pound-to-kilo converter and shazam...I realise I have nearly a kilo and a half of fat hanging off my chest. That sounds so much nastier than 'oh yeah, I have a set of double dees'.

No wonder they feel so good when I hold them up with my hands.

Anyone want to be my personal boob-holder?

ScarXo

NB. The photo was taken by Rachel Mia of Matchless Snapshots.

nineteen.

I have about six different topics I feel like writing. From my current situation, to the frustration about my mum constantly stealing my life...my unhappiness with my league, angst caused by sociopaths. I know my blog is a total whinge-fest. I guess here is one of the few places I can go to get shit off my mind. I just tend to get too emotional with the topics I write about and end up in a blubbering mess. Then my writing turns incoherent.

Basically. This particular blog, number nineteen, is going to be an update. Most likely I'll be motivated to continue on, meaning in twenty minutes time I'll have uploaded blog twenty too...but for now, let us stick to nineteen.

So. I made a new rainbow skate sticker. I am waiting on a quote for printing, and I have hit up 'Can't think straight' in Daylesford who are keen on selling some. I'm gonna post a few leagues on facebook as well as the Vagine Regime and Skate Salvage etc to see if anyone is interested.



In Brisbane I got this book called 'fanzines'. It is a giant book about...well...zines. I had a flick through earlier on, and got all motivated (again). So, here is to keeping the motivation up long enough to actually produce something.

I really don't have much to document, but driving home today, I had an epiphany.

No matter how shitty my life is, how pathetic I am right now, at least I am still having amazing, mindblowing sex!

eighteen.

My newest MLIA. It happened on our way to Adelaide.

MLIA


The other day I was pondering how all rainbow stickers for cars are so boring and generic. Lightning bolts, rectangles, triangles, hearts, peace symbols...boring.
I decided that I wanted a skate. So I created this. I'm trying to source cheap die-cut vinyl printing, but as die-cut looks pretty pricey, I'm thinking just a circle with a black background could work.


This week has been especially hard. I wish I had someone to talk to about this, about everything...someone who won't judge. Someone who will let me rant. Okay, I know I have those people, I guess I want someone who will make everything better. I need a superman or Wonder Woman or something. Again I have been reduced to tears over the slightest things. Again, I fought with my woman. Big-like. I think we were both questioning the relationship and whether it was meant to be this hard. Sigh. Love, big big love, but golly, two nutters in a relationship can get tough.

I've been working with a fantastic photographer lately, as her assistant. It's unpaid work, simply for experience and time for her to help me build up a modelling folio. I have a shoot with her this week. I cherish the opportunity to do this. It is such simple work, running down to get her smokes, holding the lights, putting together props...etc. It's not about the work. It's about the company. I'm getting out of my house, I'm playing with her kitties (all six of them), I'm meeting new people (or I will be, so far it's mostly been derby people...), I'm learning new things. This past week has been so good for my psyche.

Problem is, with every good thing in life, it seems like 2 bad things are around the corner. A friend cried today. Six words, innocently spoken, completely oblivious, made her cry a heaving sob, right from her toes. I cannot know how she feels with her situation, it is something that I simply do not/cannot relate to. On the other hand, I know how she feels in the way that such simple things can be so painful. Six words can make your whole facade crumble in an instant.

I know people are worried about me. I am worried about me. I'm so unstable, jealous, paranoid. I'm insatiable, disgruntled, frustrated. I'm lazy but needy. I simply cannot be bothered pushing on, with anything.

Why bother trying to find a job? I'm not talented enough for anything. I love photography, I can take photos, but I'm never going to be good like R. I love words, I can write, but I'll never be published like B. I am not creative enough for anything fun, I'm not motivated enough for anything useful. Why bother? I'm just going to end up in a dead end job in a place I hate, wanting to drive my car into a tree.
Why bother trying to get fitter, I'm never going to be hot like...well where do I begin? Why bother training hard, I'm never gonna skate like her. Why bother working for our relationship, she's just gonna get bored of me anyway. Why bother trying to pay the bills, there's just gonna be more anyway. Why bother putting in effort with friends, I'm always second best anyway, always the tag-along. Never part of the group. Always the gooseberry.

At least tonight I had a friend to be gooseberry with, a nice change.

seventeen.

My photography.
I am very lazy with doing anything, but here it is.



ScarXo

sixteen.

I am really struggling at the moment.

My life is circling the drain. I can't get myself out of this rut.

I have cried every day for the past week. Excessively. I didn't think my body had so many tears.

I started a new blog under a different name to document my current situation. I won't post it here yet. Maybe in a few months. All I know as this is killing me. I don't know who to turn to, I can't talk about it with anyone. I just end up in my bed with heaving sobs. My stomach is constantly in my throat...I just want to puke from confusion and emotion. I don't even know what emotions I'm feeling. Loss, maybe? I don't know, I just hope I figure it out soon before I lose it.


I'm contemplating submitting some photography to a friends art competition. My only problem is, all my favourites are either grainy from my phones camera (yeah, my best ideas are when my camera is mia), not following the general rules of photography OR are 'private'. Do I submit a photo of my 'Y', even though you can tell it's me by the tattoo?

So, I have been declined prospective jobs so many times of late I'm considering just giving up and becoming a drifter. I'll fruit pick and can-collect my way to world domination. I'll start smoking pot and living out of my rainbow-coloured van. You just watch.

ScarXo