Keeping up with the Joneses

I think we spend a lot of our time trying to look happy, to keep it all together, to have the right phones, the nice clothes, the comfy house. Its almost as though we think if we have everything looking good on the outside then everything will be okay on the inside. We don't want anyone to know that our brother does drugs, our best friend cuts them self or we stick our fingers down our throats after every meal. The credit card can be maxed, the final notices can come, the sleepless nights can continue as long as nobody ever finds out. We don't ever want to be one of the broken people. The ones lining up at food vans or sitting alone at the movies, The girl still wearing flares in 2010 or the guy who weighs 300kg. We will do everything possible to look the part, to play the roll, to say and do the correct things so that we are never the one people look twice at with that sad look of pity mixed with disgust.

And then something happens that changes everything. You crash your car or discover cancer or lose your job and you are forced to think, you can’t quite ever be as naive as you once were. People treat you differently, true friends get closer as masses fade away and in that moment you realize that there is very little that separates the “us” from the “them”

Smile often
Beth

haters gon hate

Last night I wrote a blog saying that I wont write here anymore.
Within 2 hours I received 2 text messages, 2 emails and 1 wall post on facebook telling me not to. (and this was all at 1am, seriously people why are you awake!)
People I had no idea even read this blog came out telling me that what I was saying mattered and that they had read it from day one.

If I want to be a writer then I will face critics the whole way and if I give up every time someone hates my stuff then I should get out of the game now.

So here is my one and only response to anyone that doesn't like what I'm doing. Say what you like, I'm not writing for you. I'm writing for me, and more so for the people that read it and take something from it, instead of worrying about whether I have used the right "your" in a sentence.

I'll continue to write and you can continue to hate. Everyone has a passion right...

Smile often
Beth

For a Friend

Sitting in her art space at Curtin University, she is a poster child of an alternative generation. Blazing red hair, facial piercings, amazing art work surrounding her and an increasingly common sight adorning her skin, self inflicted scars. As she takes another brush from the table she stairs at the empty canvas and knows that within the next few hours she will transform the blinding white surface into a piece of art that her peers will applaud, her audience will admire and her friends will be proud of.

Anti psychotics are fresh in her system and she will feel them running through her veins until evening, just in time to dope herself up again before bed. This morning when she woke up she didn’t have any new plans to paint, she barely had plans to arise. That’s nothing new though; she had given up on planning long ago. Stability is one of the first things to go when it comes to mental illness. How can one be expected to make plans for Thursday week when she has no idea where her headspace will be at on that day?

I ask her is she feels understood. She pauses for a long minute and then looks at me,

“No” she says.

“People try to understand but sometimes I wish they wouldn’t because they just get it all so wrong, you can’t understand unless you have lived it.”

Her list of diagnosis’ read like a run sheet of modern day mental health; Depression, anxiety, bulimia, post traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder and Poly substance abuse, to name a few. With over 50 visits to the emergency room and at least 10-15 admissions to mental health clinics, she knows all to well the labels she wears to warn society that she is not one of them.

The nurses always ask the same questions and make the same assumptions, an overdose on pills is written in her notes as a “suicide attempt” but She tells me they have got it wrong,

“It’s just a rest” she says.

“I don’t want to die, I just want to sleep for a while until it doesn’t hurt anymore” She has known the awful touch of naked men. Wondered aloud and in silent if “no” ever really means “no”, and watched as she slides blades against her skin and blood streams down her arm taking her to a state of euphoria where she can be cleansed from her transgressions and numbed to her loss of innocence. But they don’t ask that question, they don’t care if she said no, she watches time and again as they look through her charts and scribble the word “promiscuous.”

I watch her as she continues to create, to paint, and to inspire. Her work is mostly autobiographical and writes a story that words could never do justice to “If people can walk away from my art work connected to it in some way than I have done my Job. I will know that my experiences haven’t gone to waste.” And as I look at the painting before me, I assure you, one cannot help but connect.

Take 400?

You lied

I believed

I broke

You lied

I believed

I broke

You lied

I believed

I broke

You lied

I didn't believe

I still broke

Thankyou

Within moments of pressing "publish" on my last post my side table was already lighting up with Text messages. (and that's saying a lot, it was 1am)
All through the next day I was inundated with texts of support, hope, friendship and love, my facebook inbox wasn't safe either, my Iphone was vibrating the crap out of my boobs as it sat in my bra at work.

As people came from the woodworks to hold my hand through this time, i realised a community I had long forgotten existed. It seems the saying is true, its the ones you least expect that step up in times of need.

In the beginning I was sad, afraid to do it all alone. I suddenly felt my singleness a lot, no boy to hold my hand or dry my tears. I felt lonely in the midst of it, but after the last 2 days and the love that has been showered upon me I realise I don't do this alone, I do it with an army of people armed with ice creams, words of encouragement, prayers and laughter.

The world goes on and mine will to.
It must.

A broken heart isn't always metaphorical.

I sat in the doctors surgery as I had done many times before, smilling and chatting as he poked and prodded and asked me how I felt. Everything was normal, just a cardiac checkup I've been having for years until he told me to take a seat.

The look on his face changed as the words streamed from his lips. Everything became slow motion and I tried desperately to follow along..

"Obviously you are not showing any symptoms... yet.. its not good news... new tests... I'll discuss with colleagues... heart has failed... this never normally happens... OPEN HEART SURGERY."

..my eyes welled up with tears, alone I came to this appointment and alone I left, crying, confused, in shock. The next two days were a blur of tears and my attempts to push away everyone I held dear. Sadly in some cases it worked.

Today, a week and a half after the news, I went for my first lot of tests. Needles, drugs, a scary machine and lonely rooms filled with nothing but radiation and my fears. I watch as the all to familiar scene begins, everyone walking on egg shells so as not to disturb the dance we all take part in, the steps that tell us it isn't really that bad.

In the midst

Sometimes the reality of everything hits me like a tone of bricks.
I feel as though I cannot breathe. I shake. I stop. I wonder what it all means.
I doubt.
I doubt my abilities. I doubt my looks. I doubt my personality. I doubt my future.
I fear.
I fear my inadequacy. I fear my insecurities. I fear my weaknesses. I fear my future.
I cry.

I know this is the part where I'm meant to tell you something amazing happens and I realise that I have to believe in myself and hope for the best and love with abandon, because that's how it goes right? Every story has a lesson. Every fable, a moral? Every fairytale, a happy ending?

Sometimes though we forget to document the journey. The story in the middle, before the climax. Before the hero shows up. Before we feel better.

I so believe that these secrets are walls that keep us alone. We fear the vulnerability. We dont tell the story until it is resolved. We don't speak in the midst.

Tonight I am in the midst. Tonight I don't have all the answers. Tonight it is dawning on me that this is not a dress rehearsal for my life. This is my life and I only get one.
What am I going to do with it?
What am I already doing with it?

I know deep down that tomorrow the sun will rise and I will feel OK again. I know that the worries that tend to fill the room at the wee hours will fade into the background as the noise of the morrow keeps my fragile mind occupied.

I also know that there is more. That the world does not change because I chose to see it one way or the other.

I know all this but tonight I'm in the midst and you know what? That's OK.

smile often
x

close your eyes and dream

Sometimes I feel as though I'm watching the world pass me by..
Waiting. Always waiting.
Eyes set on the horizon searching for my white horse to come and take me away.
Hoping I'll find solace in words, ink, music, money, networking, romance.

But after just a moment when the new becomes old and the excitement fades away you still close your eyes every night to the same person.
The same thoughts. The same memories. The same insecurities.

You can change your clothes.
You can change your job.
You can change your significant other.
You can change the size on the back of your jeans.
You can change WHAT you are.
You can change WHERE you are.
But none of that matters unless you are okay with WHO you are.

smile often

A reminder

"Dear Beth,

21 years down... many more to go hopefully. I'm not one to make a big deal of milestones, and I reckon you're similar to me, but think of it this way - you've got 21 years of experience at this thing called life. You may not realise it but you've got a lot of accumulated wisdom.

I encourage you to share it with others.

I like you because you're a thinker. You think for yourself. Sadly, there aren't many like you these days, especially inside the church!

So I encourage you to share, speak, blog, write a book.. Do all the those things. And may you inspire others to think for themselves, and most importantly, to discover God for themselves

Happy Birthday
From Grant"

I found this card today, it made tears come to my eyes, I'm not going to lie.
It reminded me of my goal, my future, what this blog was always meant to be about in the first place.
How easy we get lost. How easy we forget the calling of our hearts.

This was never a popularity contest.

So thankyou to one of my oldest friends Grant.
Thankyou for seeing something in me and for bothering to write it all down in a card.
Thankyou for being a true friend. Even if you're not an "everyday" friend.

I will return now to write of things that stir my soul, even if it doesn't involve fashion pictures.

smile often
Beth

with these cards, I fold.

I find it so funny how in the space of 2 years,

I can go from not knowing someone at all.
To having that person be my entire world.
To not speaking to that person ever again.

I'll never understand the game.

meet.love.leave.repeat.

until somebody, someday stops playing the game and
stays

A faith I can be proud of.

"I’m in a band. I don’t go to church every Sunday. I love punk rock music. Sometimes I use swear words a lot. I respect and admire gay men and women. I’m obsessed with horror films. I know what shame feels like. And guess what old man? Jesus is still my Savior."
-Hayley Williams.

Done!

I love..

• the smell of summer nights and the taste of spearmint milk.
  
• laying in bed when its cold and raining and knowing I have not a thing to do.
• that moment when you realise that an acquaintance has become a friend.
• conversations that last for hours and yet you walk away feeling like you could have spoken for hours more.
• comfortable silences where you feel like nothing needs to be said for you to feel understood.
• finding THAT song that sums up exactly how you're feeling at that moment.
• that moment after you stop crying and you realise it's not that bad after all.
• reading books until the sun comes up.
• the smell of sprinkles and the sound of crows because it reminds me of being young.
• telling someone they're pretty and watching their face light up.
• laying around with the people you love doing nothing but BEING together.
• Those unplanned nights that turn out perfect and end at 6am
• expreskis from the dome and sushi from jaws.
• taking interest in people and finding out that everyone has a story worth telling.
• personal jokes
• laughing so hard my stomach hurts
• the feeling of being on stage in character (drama nerd)
• making people laugh.
• falling in love for the first time and every time after that
  

If you're doing what you love,
Then you're bulletproof

We stand where we are today because of the choices we have made.


Circumstances may control the tides,
but our choices are the rudder.

I believe in the sun, even when I can't see it.
I believe in love, even when I don't feel it.
I believe in God, even when he is silent.

Nice words right, something you'd find on a postcard or hanging on a plaque in your grandma's house?

What if I told you these words were found scratched into the walls of a Prisoner Of War camp after the second world war?

did the prisoner survive?
what horrors did he witness?
what loved ones did he lose?
how was he still able to have hope unwavered?

'Faith that surpasses all understanding'

Just thoughts on paper

Making my own way. The road less traveled seems a breeze. I chose instead the road untraveled.
I'm small, but my dreams are big. I'm shy but my voice will be heard. I'm broken but redeemed.

the heart wants to be loved, but what is the soul willing to give up in order to obtain this love?

Continue to seek what is good. Continue to be yourself even if its not accepted, attractive, or desired. Don't fall for the lie again. Don't play your cards close to your chest. Be wise but open. Don't let your heart grow cold but don't lay it out there either. Love yourself because it's who your stuck with. Make the mark you were born to make, not the mark you hope for people to see. Go back to childhood dreams, revisit the morals of your youth.
Back when you believed you were worth it.

who turned our bravery into shame?

Who told us our scars are ugly?

(Renee Yohe - to write love on her arms)

a hero. a quote. a dream

To state the obvious, this man was a literary genius. He always seems to put into words that which my vocabulary can only barely elude to. This quote being no exception.


There are so many people out there who have shut themselves off because they have been hurt.broken.abandoned.rejected


It breaks my heart.

I, too have been hurt in more than one way by more than one person but the scars only remind that I loved. I truly loved. And though it hurt, and believe me it did.
I will love again.


That I can promise you.

This to shall pass...

I'm sorry,

to my friends,

the ones that have to put up with my mistakes.

my tears.

my shortcomings.

you deserve better

I'll be better...

strawberries, steak and marshmallows

The smell of juicy couture and aftershave mixed with liquor and fat hangs in the air, an old friend to the senses, reminding me that I am living in the best of times.
It starts with drinks. It always starts with drinks doesn't it? Tonight the setting is hogs breath cafe, the time is 7pm and the drinks have arrived. I'm smiling already.
I think the combined weight of all 4 people at the table would fall below 220kg but that doesn't stop us from ordering the biggest things we can find on the menu, starting with a ridiculously indulgent appetizer to share. The stuffed potato skins, squid rings, friend chicken and spring rolls are devoured in record time as the aforementioned drinks kick in and we quickly descend into hysterics. Nobody makes me laugh like these people.

After a few laughs with the waiter and a sing-along to happy birthday, our main meals arrive. Now the meals at any stake house are a force to be reckoned with, and even with my very feminine choice of a petite order, it was still a mission to finish, all be it a wonderful one.

Some of my friends however, where not quiet as committed, and thus failed in the mission. I still feel for their pain, even today.

From there we decide that, though we are near bursting with food and have certainly exceeded our calorie intake for the week, the best idea is to order the biggest dessert on the menu in one last ditch effort to make certain we feel sick for the rest of the evening. It was amazing, thanks for asking.

The food was all delicious and I'd recommend the place to anyone but that is hardly the point for me. because it's not really about the food is it? That is merely the scrumptious excuse we use to gather with the people we hold most dear. You see the most tantalizing aspect of any night I spend with friends in a restaurant is not the food. Instead it is the people, the rich texture of friendship, the sweet sound of laughter, The old smell of familiarity and memories, all combined to make it clear that this really is the best of times.

Smile often

Beth

This broke my heart when it was played...

...I need to stop getting teary in tutorials

for everything I don't like..

I like words. Though I do not believe that they can ever encapsulate the sum of ones experience,

they look so regal when scratched on paper,

and sound so eloquent when rolled off the tongue in the right manner.

I like photos. Capturing the moments that one hopes to never forget and displaying them as a keepsake for years to come has always seemed such a romantic notion to me.

I like people. They bring out the best and the worst in me,

and it is only in the context of relationship that one truly learns the good that still exists amongst the human condition.


I like reading. I'm hardly under the impression that being ignorant about the world, it's history, and it's different cultures, is somehow cool.

once apon a time, or maybe twice...

Me: What is your greatest fear?

Mum: Being trapped in water under ice.

Me: Telling me to accept mediocrity is like telling yourself to accept being trapped in water under ice,
because mediocrity is my greatest fear.

An ode to an icon...

As the car steers around the corner and pulls up infront of Tiffany's in New York City a stunning woman steps out and begins to glide across the path. With a coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other, she stands infront of the iconic store. Taking a pastry from the bag she takes one single bite and with it creates cinematic history.

There is a lot I could say now, I could tell you of her past, her early upbringing that played out in the midst of of war and devistation in her home country. I could tell you of her style, the couture dresses and the glistening jewellery, the undisputable fashion force that she was for her entire life, and continues to be today. I could tell you of her career, her humble beginings in ballet schoolthat led to her portrayal of Gigi and went on to see her star in 18 films, nomintaed for 4 Academy Awards and win Best Actress for "ROman Holiday". I could tell you of her legacy, the family she raised, the charity work she did for UNICEF in her later years, and The Audrey Hepburn Children's Fund, which still continues today. However that is merely statistics and opinions, what I want to tell you is who she was, when the lights went out and the makeup was off. Who was Audrey Hepburn when nobody was looking?

In his book "Audrey Hepburn: An Elegant Spirit" Audrey's son describes her as a compassionate woman who searched for and offered love above all else. Audreys own words back this up, with her quoted as saying "I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it." She lived her life not only to entertain, but also to engage, to engage with her audience, engage with her family, engage with people.

So I wonder, how did it feel to be "Audrey Hepburn", a person who became an actress, an actress who became a star, a star who became an icon? The shocking answer is this, "You can even say that I hated myself at certain periods. I was to fat, or maybe to tall, or maybe just plian to ugly..." Its hard to believe, but nice to know that the face of a thousand add campaignes, the mother of style and "Most Beautiful Woman Of All Time" was insecure just like you and I. So, while every woman wanted to be her, and every man wanted to marry her, she was happy to be at home with her sons, blissfully unfazed by the frenzy she caused and, just like her character standing in front of Tiffany's, Audrey Hepburn could be surrounded by the most precious of jewels, but everyone is still looking at her.

(this is a piece I wrote for uni, I got a high distinction so I thought it might be worth sharing it on here)

Sometimes I'd even watch PG movies, WITHOUT parental guidance. I know right..

I tend to get lost in trivial things. Banking on things I know are only temporary. Focusing on the minors whilst I let the majors pass by. I'm like a child, mesmerised by pretty colours, flashing lights and loud sounds. It is only in the silence, at the wee hours of the night that I can no longer escape the truth. The truth that I am broken. Dreams of my youth stand in the background being blurred out by the clangs of my everyday existence. I wish I were stronger, more noble. I wish hard decisions came easy to me, like they do for some.
Doing good is almost a second thought for me, I crave adventure, rebellion, excitement and doing good so rarely seems adventurous, rebellious or exciting. It's like when I was little and wouldn't want to go to bed in fear that I was missing out on something. It always seemed that the hours between 8.30pm and 7.30am must be when all the good stuff happens. The adults bring out the chocolate and the PG movies and everything else good about being old.
I think doing good sometimes feels like going to bed on time, there is a part of me that is convinced I'm missing out. It must be fun right, otherwise why would they have to tell us not to do it? But the funny thing is that on the few times I did stay up late, you know those occasions when one parent isn't home so the other one caves to the pressure, I would sit up watching TV, something really bad ass like "Family of Five" or something and slowly my eyes would close and I would fall asleep on the couch. The chocolate never seemed to come out any more than it did pre 8.30, fireworks didn't go off, party's didn't happen. It was all together a let down and I'd just wake up a little bit more tired for school.

I'll let the metaphore go unsaid because really it's all a bit to obvious isn't it.

Smile often
Beth

Dear Diary..

I've kept a journal since I was 12, and I still have every one. They sit in draws in my room, sometimes I open them and have a read. Most of the time I don't. I love that they are there though, A record that I was here, that I existed, that those years happened. I like that I can look back to my perspective at 12, 13 ,15, 18 and see how I saw things back then. It's a guilty pleasure and a selfish past time but Journaling, writing, sketching, expressing, It's something I'll always do. And If I can make a living from it than I'll be a very happy girl.

I say all that to say this, Today I was cleaning out my journals and I opened one, It was the year of 2003. Th year I almost died on more than one occasion, the year I lost my grandmother to cancer, the year I was told I would need a heart transplant, the year I flew to Sydney with the make a wish foundation to meet the cast of home and away (don't judge me), the year I had open heart surgery 6 days before Christmas. I opened the journal, wanting to delve into the mind of my 14 year old self, truly wondering how I had felt, what I had thought of the whole thing. I expected long rants of confusion, medical questions, end of days prayers, the works... And what I got was.. BOYS!
Seriously the whole journal was about boys, and how I liked this boy, and if I should tell him, and if I was fat and if he would like me and why, God forbid, I was 14 and didn't have a boyfriend. I honestly couldn't believe it, I was going through the roughest physical time of my life (and that's saying a lot considering I'd already had 2 open heart surgery's) and all I could think about was BOYS.

Then it dawned on me, maybe I'm doing that now too. If I read back to my journals of today would I be thinking, oh that was my first year of uni, I moved out of home, started volunteering, beginning my "adult life". But I wouldn't find any of that in the pages of my diary, nothing about uni or work or volunteering, all I would find written was pages of confusion about a boy, about my appearance, about my insecurities. Really, I'm 14 all over again.

Smile often
Beth

When I'm lost for words

This is the first thing I have ever posted that wasn't personally written by me. But the moment anyone who knows me reads who it was written by they will understand...

"The night time does the same thing to me. To many thoughts running through my head, I find myself getting so depressed-so quickly. It's tough to break out of it, really it is. The best way to deal with it - is to just feel it... No matter how much it hurts. Then... apply to life. Remember, you always feel the best the moment after you've cried"

-Craigery Owens

Hope.

I woke up to rain today.
A storm had rolled in overnight, or so it seems.. It's days like these when one needs hope. You see storms come in life, the sun is hidden behind dark clouds and your hair gets all frizzy. The perfect way to make a 21 year old girl feel like shit. I suppose this is like life really. Sometimes you can't see the sun. The clouds make it impossible to see the positives in life. Situations and circumstances roll in like cold fronts in the night and we wake up to rain. Hope is what gets us through the storm. Hope is the knowledge that when I wake up to rain it isn't permanent. Hope is the knowledge that though I don't see the sun, it is still there. Hope is the belief that tomorrow will be brighter than today, even if today wasn't brighter than yesterday.
Without hope we essentially live in the storm forever. We wake up to rain and wallow in the belief that it will last forever. Without hope we cannot see a better future. Hope is a force that is stronger than pain. hope is a force that is stronger than uncertainty. Hope is a force that is stronger than hate. Hope is what got me off the pantry floor when I was told I would need open heart surgery for the 3rd time at 14 and I only had 50% chance of living and hope is the reason I lived beyond those odds to be here today waking up to rain.
Besides, rains not all that bad. We have de-frizz for hair these days anyway...

smile often
Beth

back to basics

Sometimes only nature can make me truly understand how insignificant my problems are and how big the world really is.

I think everyone just needs to chill out a little bit and enjoy the ride

Life's to short to spend it stressing

smile often

Beth

Dear inspiration

Where have you gone? And why have you left rain in your wake?
If you could return soon that would be awfully splendid.

Smile often
Beth

Its all a bit un PC really

OK so I have to address something here.
It isn't as important as people dying in 3rd world countries, I'm not questioning my roll in reducing poverty and I'm not giving u snippets into my life that I will then delete when I realise how public blogging is.
Its opinion time. Ill start with my 2 pet hates.


Firstly if you are above a size 14 please proceed to NOT do the following:

1. Wear tights as pants. Nobody wants to see that.

2. Dress like a 50's pinup girl. THEY WERE CURVACEOUS NOT OBESE! a bulge is not a curve people, say it with me now, A bulge is not a curve.

3. Take your clothes off and take pictures for the net. Just because your friend is studying photography, that doesn't make you a model.

4. come into my change rooms at Myer with a size 10 dress. Its not going to fit you and I don't want to have to go get you a size 12, and then 14 and then 16 and then have you leave because it "doesn't look right." Yes, the zip not doing up is never a good look is it dear.

5. Tell me how lucky I am that I can wear the clothes I do. It's awkward I don't know what to say, Yes I'm thinner then you but I wasn't going to point it out, did you really have to?

I feel I must take a moment here to say, I don't dislike overweight females, I have nothing against them as people, Just dress for your size and everyone's happy.

And secondly
If you are a male that has any interest in having a relationship with me please do NOT do the following:

1. Have a southern cross tattoo. Enough said.

2. Tell me I'm "prettier then Jessica Alba" Umm... NO, I'm really not. I'm completely OK with the fact that I'm not. EVERYONE ON THE PLANET KNOWS I'M NOT!! so lets all just be honest here.

3. Tell me how crap your ex girlfriend was. If you can say that about her, who knows what you'll say about me once we break up?

4. Tell me you love me after a week. No you don't, you don't know me after a week. I don't love you, you don't love me. Lets discuss this again in a few months time.

5. Tell me you want to marry me. I'm 21 so I'll save you some time, The answer is no!

6. Throw things at me. Especially a fork. (I threw that in just for kicks)

OK I'm glad I got those off my chest.

Smile often
Beth

Lessons on Hay street

My mornings start with an alarm, a can of V and a pair of the biggest sunglasses I can get my hands on. I get cranky if I miss my train or forget my hair straightener. I barely talk to others unless I have to. A grunt is normally my choice of greeting before the hours of 10am.

His day starts with darkness. A struggle to find a white stick and a dog to take the lead. He can't see the sun I take for granted, his sunglasses arn't asthetic, there a shield to hide behind. Others barely talk to him unless they have to and I wonder what is worse, that he can't see people or that people choose not to see him?

smile often
Beth

Dear Self, (and whoever else thinks its worth taking in)

Start a conversation. Ask questions then actually listen. Smile at a stranger. Hold the door open for a crowd, you're not as important as you think you are. Laugh, often and loudly, the uglier the better. Be passionate, you only live once so grab life by the hair and take it for all it's worth. Don't judge, it just makes you look petty. Always treat others as you would like to be treated. Never take someone at face value, people are always worth your time. Love people that have hurt you, love is a stronger weapon than hate. Let yourself know people, not just know of them but truly know them. Cut the crap, stop with the excuses and let yourself get lost in the music. Dance like an idiot, stop to smell the flowers and hug tight. Don't get caught up in materialism, it's not a cliche, what's on the inside really is what matters. Never block off your heart, its empty when not shared. Tell a joke, you're rather funny.

smile often
Beth

"BOO!"

Today at work I found a little lost girl. She was hiding in a rack of jeans and when I got down on my knees to say hi she jumped out and said "Boo"

I took her hand and lead her to her father who was absolutely beside himself with fear. I couldn't help but smile.

That little girl had no idea she was lost, She was having the time of her life in her cubby house of jag and guess.
I miss that childlike curiosity and wonder.
I miss a time before we had to worry about assignments and bills and money and relationships.
I miss a time when all you needed to be happy was a rack of jeans.
Myer became her playground and I was her best friend. I learn so much from children. They know what its all about. We all new how to relax once apon a time and then somewhere along the way we got lost.

Adult and child get seperated.
Adult freaks the hell out.
child finds an adventure.

I love it

smile often
Beth

Late night listing

What I believe

I believe that every person should have a voice.

I believe that Jesus is the son of God.

I believe that trust should be earnt not given.

I believe that life is short and precious.

I believe we should seize the day.

I believe that love is a greater force then hate.

I believe that hope is a rare comodity.

I believe people are more important the things.

I believe forgiveness sets you free.

I believe beauty is found in imperfections.

I believe relationships arn't easy but there worth it.

I believe love conquers all.

I believe that no matter how much you get hurt you have to continue to love.

I believe that no matter how many times you fall you have to get back up.

I believe happiness is a choice

What makes me happy

security.passion.deep conversation.light banter.good books.touching movies.meeting unfamiliar people.smiling at a stranger.small children.fashion.being inspired.the beach at night.being understood.late night texting.falling in love.traveling.music.art.old peoples stories.that moment when you realise an acquaintance just became a friend.learning.alone time.hearing peoples stories.writting.engaging.watching.family.friends.helping people.sitting in driveways talking because you don't want to walk away just yet.chocolate.sushi.ice tea.frankie magazine.box sets.making a difference.discussions.seeing people achieve their goals.achieving my goals.late nights.poetry.documentaries.tickle fights.italian food.cuddles.debates.humour.looking at Russel Brand...

Sometimes I think its important to define what you believe and makes you happy. I want to focus on these things a little bit more. Especially the looking at Russel Brand bit.

smile often
Beth

Happiness is a choice

and in a world where we dismiss the romanticised notion of true happiness

living instead in a rat race of "who's better then who"

and a back and forth of quick wit and well played jabs

it takes courage to be happy

Because this was all getting a bit to serious..

Today I woke up to the sun rising.. sounds poetic right?
It wasn't.
You see whilst the sun was rising through my window it was not the actual entity that caused me to come to consciousness. Instead it was the sound of my Alarm. Now I can't be sure of what the exact song is that wakes me up every morning at varying degrees of God awful hours because I acquired this phone from a friend and her music taste, for the most part, sucks. (I didn't name names so nobody should take offense.) but what I do know about the song is that at 6.30am, that song is the devil. Also until recently I didn't even know that 6.30pm had a morning version. As far as I knew it was a once a day occurrence that was reserved for dinner and A Current Affair. Thankfully the devil music corrected my ignorance and I'm now well aware of 6.30: Morning edition.

Many things go through my head in the few seconds after I am blasted back into reality from my slumber and most of them consist of more sleep and possible fake doctors notes. But, today I had a quiz and seen as I had missed my last one due to Perths great storm and my great knowledge of survival which caused me to pickup a pay phone knee deep in water and thus get electrocuted, I had no option but to get up and get my arse to uni before I fail my class. So I chose the second most desirable option for that moment.
I pressed snooze.
Because I just knew that in 5 minutes when my alarm went off again I would feel revitalised and ready to take on the day. Yes, 6.35 was definatly a more reasonable wake up call. As I turn over happy with my decision and problem solving abilities, I begin to drift back into sleep. Reality begins to mix with dreams when suddenly
*Insert terrible music here*
I can assure you that at 6.35 the song is still the devil and I still feel like death. Only now I have 5 minutes less time to straighten my hair, thus resulting in a half up do that sits somewhere between school girl and librarian. I'm late leaving the house which means breakfast consists of a V and I have to make the snap decision to run for the bus and risk being.. "that person that ran for the bus and missed it" or play it cool and rock up late to class and risk being.. "that person that missed two quiz's and failed the unit" I chose the first option because my fear of failure out ways my fear of embarrassment and It seems I made the right choice because I got on the bus, met the love of my life and we are now going steady.

..Not really but I did make it to class in time and I can assure you I still failed that quiz

Smile often
Beth

they'll say she changed that day

So many decisions in my life are based on fear.
Fear of rejection.
Fear of failure.
Fear of what people will think.
Fear of what people will say.
Fear of how people will react.
Fear that I'm defective.
Fear that I'm just not enough.

I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to let it all go, Stop worrying about the future because the truth is that one day I'll be on my death bed and I will not regret so much the things I did as what I didn't do. I do not want to regret living my life in fear of other peoples opinions. I will dance for an audience of one, I will fight for justice and unashamedly live from my heart.

I don't care whats cool.
I don't care who likes me.
I'm not afraid anymore.
Who are you to judge me.

Smile often
Beth

without wit

Sometimes I honestly wonder about the goodness in people,
I want to trust people. I want to believe that they are good. I want to believe that they will treat people how they want to be treated. I want to believe a lot of things..

But I dont.

The truth is that I have experienced far to many people that will lie, manipulate, use and abuse. Now this may be my own lack of judgment or my constant need to "fix" broken people but I have found that Im a complete pushover and end up getting hurt, a lot. I'm so afraid of hurting people or doing the wrong thing by people that I get walked all over.

I wonder, honestly if I'm the only person that lies awake and feels like shit when I'm horrible to someone. Is the only way to get ahead to stop caring?

I dont want to be cold, I really don't. But sometimes I feel like thats my only option. Survival of the fittest and all that jazz.

I wonder, can you really be happy if you always put others first?

This is just random thoughts fragmented by a tired mind and produced to you in the lamest of forms.

That is all

Smile often
Beth

If I could..

Write like Diablo Cody

Dress like Taylor Momsen

And date like Katy Perry

...I'd be a happy girl

Reality Check

A Child.1 Kilometer from a feeding station in Sudan.Stops to rest while a Vulture waits

This photo was taken by Kevin Carter in 1993
It was published by The New York Times on March 26 1993
It won The Pulitzer prize for feature photography on May 23 1994

While this photo brought much needed awareness and in turn aid to the situation in Sudan, Kevin Carter never assisted the child to the feeding station

"The man adjusting his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering, might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene."
-The st Petersburg Times

Kevin Carter killed himself on July 27 1994

At what point do you stop being a Journalist and start being a Human?

Yesterday I got mad because the line at sizzler was to long for my liking
I make myself sick

Smile often
Beth