The Art of Losing

They say dying is easy and it probably is. Living is really god damn hard.

Recently I was put in a position I'd never been in before. I was put between 2 sets of friends, both of whom had valid arguments. I never got as far as studying diplomacy in I.R, and I haven't watched all of TNG so maybe that was it. I made a snap decision to take the middle road and thought that was the safest bet. It wasn't.

Once you get past the apologies, the tears, the fighting and defending your case you're left with the reality. You're left with the acceptance of several different stories of what happened, a knowledge that only time will amend, and that for now all you can do is focus on moving one forward in front of the other. You accept that your life will never be the same again and that you can longer think more than 10mins ahead. There's no point in fantasizing about an alternate future because that may never exist.

"And when that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't our fault, not really. You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore"

You recall what you've survived in the past and try to accept that this to is another thing you'll have to learn. That those who lined your footpath, all those other times you learned to walk again, are no longer there and it's all on you now kiddo. How hard you fight is up to you, no one is measuring your success now. This is rock bottom and it's your chance to build yourself from scratch .

..............................................

A few weeks later.......

In time things get easier. You still fight your demons each day, but you know that you can get up and go to coffee shop with the man who, despite the odds,  is falling for you. You find a way to accept your empty bank account and smile at your Ikea bed. Your life isn't the glorious whirlwind of going to the gym and advancing yourself beyond expectation like you thought- but you're alive and you've survived and you'll continue to do so.

You still deeply miss hearing your best friend telling you to grab your gun and bring in the cat and you're terrified of tomorrow. You gain clarity in realising it wasn't the end of the world  because no matter what happens next you're walking on your own two feet and you are still here. Besides, the art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities but it wasn't a disaster

That awkward moment when..........

Once, on a school trip to visit universities, which was designed mostly to convince my grade that the HSC wasn't just "That little quiz before Schoolies", a friend of mine Percy had great difficulty with one of the lecture desk-chairs. It was my introduction to the 2011 craze of "That awkward moment when......"

Thing is, back in 2011, I didn't realise that in the coming years I was about to become the Queen of Awkward Moments! Worst of all most have involved meeting boyfriends or friends parents. 

Now, I'm not particularly proud of the time that my then boyfriends father walked past an open window and saw parts of my body his son hadn't even seen up close yet, or when I found myself explaining to my friend's very dignified and sophisticated English mother what a MILF was.

 But the icing was truly laid thick on the cake when whilst at work the other night I was greeted warmly by a gentleman whom I instantly realised was probably of some vague but largely important significance to my life. In my defence, I was totally in the lock and load serve people mode. However I'm not sure that excuses the fact I didn't recognise WILL"S FATHER.

So remember- No matter how embarrassed you're feeling right now. I can promise you- I've done worse  

Culinary...........Yeah lets call them "Triumphs"

Late last night I was going through my phone and attempting to clear out some of the 1058 photos.........Let's face it, that was NEVER going to end well!

Now aside from the 500+ selfies and 'whose body part is that?" a large majority of the photos depict a strangely accurate timeline of my 'evolution' as a chef since leaving home. 

There was many a great phase in my time-

The deserts phase-  Caramel slice, Pancake wars* and bourbon with a side of trifle ......... well you get the point.

The enough-pasta-to-feed-a-village-in-Africa-for-a-month-phase- Vegetarian goo (errr I mean mac and cheese) and tuna pasta,

The 'classy' organic hippy phase- maple salmon and spinach & fetta pie made with pastry that was more or less the consistency and flavor of cement

The um what phase- the eggs that were half frozen when I cracked them and the brownies that were referred to for over a year as "pompeii" (Sadly not photographed),

The vegetarian phase- trademarked mostly by attempts at paneer curry and homemade spinach "naan" (aka half baked dough that was fed to a very very drunk Alex)

Don't worry, I've since 'evolved' to making sure I live within sneezing distance of as much takeaway as possible


*Pancakes shown were actually made by Alex, I can't make pancakes to save my life

Part 5: Acceptance

This is part 5 of a five part series on grief. Given the five stages of grief never come in order, neither will these posts. 

Tonight I passed my ex and his girlfriend on the street and it reminded me of this, a piece I wrote several months ago shortly after we broke up. 

DEFECTIVE

When I was 15, I became defective. 

Lose the romance, lose the drama, lose the statistic. I became defective

It wasn’t really something I did or said and yet it wasn’t really something that happened to me. It just was.

It was that when I looked at myself in the mirror years later I saw something that had occured without existing.

That to say I was defective, broken to begin with was somehow easier to understand than what had actually happened to me.

I remember at a Hare Krishna Service once and hearing them talk about how modern knowledge was trying to interpret and understand experience whilst veydic knowledge gave a complete understanding. That’s what it felt like to me and that's what I'm still searching for. This is a whole thing to me, not just a piece that others perused over and tried to equate and comprehend. 

I always took great comfort in statistics, except when it came to this. They say 1 in 3 are defective, and so, so many times I would sit there with my friends and the knowledge that I was the defective one.

“It wasn’t your fault” is the mantra of everyone- from your therapist, to your best friend, to the guy you just tried to sleep with. But you never see it that way. Least of all when you realise what happened has made you defective.

Sure we find ways to laugh about it, smile and repeat the story like we’re reading off an order at a restaurant. In time we form comfort in the siblinghood of statistics and a tainted warping of “Solidarity Forever”.

For a few years the victim card is a comfort, a curtain to hide behind when the fear of attraction knocks on your door. But as time progresses you inevitably find yourself seeing it as a prison, the past a devils snare that infects you with an inability to relax.

You find yourself sick to the stomach, crying and pleading with life to make you normal. This entrapment infects you with other things. Mental things, that like the defectiveness itself you become dissolved in hiding.

And yet you also play scientist and engineer. Constructing your own little crutches to try and fix it. Seeking ways to survive medical examinations and partially repair other systems damage, or at least build up an arsenal and ready weapons control.

I wish there was a happy ending, and for a moment I thought there was. But a brief antidote became more venom of the snare and once again I was left staining the sheets and crying for forgiveness, pleading for absolution from this personified hell.

Those who tell you dying is easy are probably right. I won’t say my life is easy or hard. Yet it just is. 

.....................

Tonight when I passed my ex we stopped momentarily. In that second he looked at me a said "Wow". Wow it is indeed, that even though I felt like dying when he left me, tonight I accepted that it happened and I am ok.

Things happen in our lives that are hard and painful, but eventually we gain that the acceptance of life and that our life is as it is. For all we've lost, for all we've gained. It is. We find our serenity

Atleast 40 Dishes, Providing hope in a 21 and somethings world!

Look I've never actually read "40 Chances- Finding Hope in a Hungry World" by Warren E. Buffett (How ironic). In fact I didn't actually know the book existed until I attempted to Google "world poverty ads" but I hope it's a great book.
The point of tonight's post is to do a little shameless work place promotion. Now kids, I failed math in Year 10, but I did get far enough to learn the following basic equation.........

If x = y then y must equal a.23b factor 0........Just kidding

Increase in amount of customers that come to Cara's workplace = ^ in Cara's hours which therefore = more food x energy for Cara = More witty and awesome blog posts.

Seriously though. I've worked in a few Indian places in my time and the food at Ghan....wait..... Gandhi (Yeah so I'm a smidge dyslexic) is pretty darn good. The staff are friendly and our location means that dinner with us means prime seats to the Riverfire and New Years Eve fireworks- Not to mention our weekly Bollywood dancers on Friday and Saturday nights

So why treat yourself this weekend with some quality curry and fantastic service!

Did someone say curry?

"Roughing" It

So here I am. It's 10.30pm and I have a 5.30am wake up to go visit my parents for the day.
This would be fine......except I'm at my sisters place, in the forest, and twitching at every single noise there is.
I'm tired and my brain is undoubtedly declaring "Fuck Cara! Go to sleep" but I just can't. I grew up in the Byron Shire and yet it's amazing how quickly my body has adapted to the comforting sounds of Boeing 747's, snippets of neighbours conversations and stray ambulances.
It's at the point where I'm considering youtubing city sounds to get me to sleep. I can feel my country friends passing judgement and sis, please don't take it personally.
Admittedly, staying with my sister isn't it exactly "roughing it". She lives in what is definitively a mansion/ fairytale castle. There's a pool, a coffee machine and a Cara proof bathtub- essentially all I need to be happy in life- Oh and her of course!
Some people go on alcohol benders- and lets face it, our twenties are the decade we permanently preserve our livers, but this week is looking more like a coffee bender. It's not that I physically can't do 5am, it's just I work in a job where right now is my normal dinner time. I'm beginning to think 2am-10am isn't the best sleeping habit to have.
I like my sleep, and distinctly remember the battle I used to have at uni of finishing assignments at 3am. I never pulled an all-nighter but learnt very very quickly how to survive on 3hrs sleep.
I'm thinking that's my reality tonight. So yes I am roughing it ;)

"Advancing" YOUR Social Standing!: Creative alternatives to "I dropped out of university"

There’s something really awkward about saying you're dropping out of university- or as I like to call it "Re-evaluating my tertiary position whilst accelerating my personal growth". Aside from losing the respect from every single family member (except for my parents who are still relishing the fact I graduated high school) it puts you in a weird societal lull. 

I used to study politics so I know my way around a thesaurus and have subsequently realized that it all comes down to good marketing!

So how do you get around the awkwardness of "So what do you study?" Ah never fear my dear reader! Tonight I present you with.......

"Advancing" YOUR social standing: Creative alternatives to "I dropped out of university"

Scenario 1

Location: Workplace conversation  with co-worker or client

Solution: “Oh I used to attend (Their university)” – leave them to make their own assumptions

Scenario 2

Location: West End

Solution: “Yeah man I was studying (insert degree here) but I realised that it wasn’t the right path for me so I’m taking some time to really connect with myself and the universe”

Scenario 3

Location: Pretentious Relatives

Solution: Lie, just blatantly lie. This is the perfect opportunity to impersonate your mate with the GPA of 6.5 who has been giving you essay by essay descriptions of their degree’s for the last 5 years.

Scenario 4

Location: University of Queensland,

Solution:  See Scenario 3

Scenario 5

Location: Parents

Solution: Well I realised it wasn’t what I want to do in life and I’m just focusing on working and doing odd little certificates until then

Scenario 6

Location: Friends parents

Solution: Oh I don’t study I work and am deeply committed to my involvement in  (insert charity you think is pretty)

Scenario 7

Location: New Roommates

Solution: Oh I was studying but then work took over and I’m deferring (This argument is particularly well supported if you have a social life akin to a celebrity)

Scenario 8

Location: Internet Dating or one night stands

Solution: Profile’s don’t ask for occupations, use your hobbies as your job description ie Personal Shopper

Scenario 9

Location: Job interview for something you’re actually qualified for

Solution: Start by not listing your time at university on your resume. If you did do this however your words should be “Well I realised I was a more (Opposite of what your degree actually involved) kind of person and I really think your company will help me in advancing my skills in this industry”

Scenario 10

Location: Institution related drinking session

Solution: Pick a random area – preferably one too obscure for a drunk person to ask follow up questions on ie. Comparative Evolutionary Genetics

At the end of the day, there’s no shame in stepping back from the game and hanging out at Centrelink for a bit. If all else fails, 1. Just lie- I’m fairly certain most of the ALP thinks I’m studying at UQ thanks to my intimate knowledge of the campus and friends currently studying there, and 2. Appreciate the world of inside jokes your time at university opened up for you.

Xx Who am? That's a secret better written than the script of Gossip Girl xo xo C.

 University Summarised!

The Alex Murphy Appreciation Society

Let me preface this post by saying that as much as he begs me too *Alex will NOT be aliased as “Barney Stinson”, “Mitchell Johnston” or “Darryl Kerrigan” .

I first met Alex when I was living in Malignant St. Typical story really, he moved in,went for a walk with a case of cider, woke up hungover in my bed and became my brother.  Malignant St was a nightmare, but that’s another story that even Pepperidge Farm wants to forget.

For you to understand the existence of the Alex Murphy Appreciation Society, it is crucial you understand what is Alex Murphy.  He is the guy who shamelessly had wine for breakfast at 9 on a Sunday, dragged a couch 2km down a hill after a Sunday session,  Views “The Bro Code” as a way of life and built a bar out of milk crates.

Because of these stories, late one night it became decided that he really needed a Facebook page. Now admittedly the Facebook page was a shining example of Myth 2 (See: Myth vs. reality post) but the argument stands that for the 8 quotes that were actually posted on it, it was worth it!

Well that’s me for now and remember kids! “Don’t make friends with salad” 

The realities of being a woman

So recently I went and saw Fiona O’Loughlin’s “My Brilliant Career” at the Brisbane Powerhouse. I’ve always been a fan of female comedic greats like herself and Judith Lucy, but to be within vpl analysing distance was an honor I’m not likely to forget.  

Aside from teaching us exactly how to crawl to the fridge for more wine at 3am, these women stand as glorious testament to the realities of being a woman in today’s world.

I suppose I was always a feminist.  As a child I was enraptured by characters such an Anne Shirley and Captain Kathryn  Janeway ( to this day I still want to break a slate over some guys head), then more recently Julia Gillard,  Quentin Bryce, Meshel Laurie and of course my beloved comedians. Women who truly proved themselves to be strong independent women who didn’t need no man to complete them.

Indeed,  my mother attempted to foster such an attitude by teaching me about the great feminism movement of the 70’s and how to cook, clean and properly serve a man…….yeah I know but this was the 90’s.

 Funny thing is that at 21 I’ve realised the realities of being a woman are whatever the hell we want them to be – having / wanting a vagina, shopping, running businesses, being a mummy,  wine, tequila, travel, fighting for equality, being for/against abortion, raising goats. It’s all relative!

When you think about it, aside from childbirth- these woman we idolise aren’t talking about the realities of being a woman. They are talking about the realities of being a human being

Happy International Women’s Day people!

Myth vs. Reality

So here I am.

 21. minimally employed, unqualified and attempting to commit myself to a blog for the 'lets not talk about itth' time. 

I suppose I could go off into some ambitious fantasy about changing the world or how glorious my life is. The reality is that I'm actually sitting at the dining room table, in the newly created dining room of my eclectic Brisbane sharehouse, debating exactly how lazy I'm going to be with regards to lunch- toast is looking pretty damn good right now. 

Given it's my first post I feel it appropriate to give a myth vs reality summary of my life. Dear Reader (aka close friend or relative I've probably bribed into reading this) please forgive me for the following. 

Hang on, I'm going to get some toast 

Ok back, Now I'm sufficiently toastastified lets get started

Myth 1: 

 "I'm just taking some time to myself to really figure out what I want to do with my life and studying distance TAFE as a stop gap" 

Ok let me burst that bubble for you right now. Unless you're a relative with exceedingly high expectations then you've probably clued into the four things that really means.
1. I really have no clue what I want in life
2. I'm really freaking lazy
 3. I'm somewhat intimidated by my friends/ roommates who seem to be in some weird cylon farm breeding new super degree's
and 4. I've looked at my assignments.......repeatedly, in different internet browsers and at different times.

Myth 2:

"I know! I'm going to (Insert somewhat unrealistic goal that results in all 5 days of commitment)!"

The amount of times I've bounded to my friends, on an upward swing of hormones or liquid personality, with some brilliant scheme that inevitably fell apart within the first week is almost cruel. These schemes have included the groundbreaking genius of  blogging, finishing university, becoming a nanny, dieting, starting my own bussiness and travelling to Asia this year. Sufficient to say most, and by most I mean all, of these schemes fell apart well within the incubation period, however not without their small additions to my general knowledge. There might be an underlying fear of commitment or failure here, but, as you can see, I'm deeply committed to continuing to fail to commit.  

Myth 3: 

"I'm soooo busy this week"

Busy (adj): The state of which Cara's week is filled with social reps, gym, 2 shifts of work, publically declaring her need to do laundry, and a metric F'ton of half starting projects  and watching t.v series to the point of almost full episode quotation. 

Myth 4:

"I'm very much involved in politics" 

 There is a big difference between having a photo of yourself and the former prime minister/s on your wall and actually doing something. Although this stuff does sound great on an internet dating profile ...... and that brings me to Myth 5

Myth 5:  

"I'm really happy being single" 

Ok maybe there are some people who genuinely are, and if you're one of them - ROCK ON. But I'm not, and the "I'm really happy being single" line is really just a verbal sock in the mouth for together people who find it necessary to remind single people of the fact our biological, social, emotional, sexual orientation, god knows what clocks are ticking. I'm not happy being single, I just accept it- much in the same way I've accepted that I will never, ever be a geneticist (Not that I ever really wanted too- don't you need math for that???) 

Anyway. That's me for now. Hopefully I haven't lost too much respect over this post and hopefully I actually make another in the next decade.