A Wayward We Go: Let's Just Talk

Hi, fellow people of the blogosphere.

So we haven't done this in a while and now I feel awkward because I don't know where to start. The last time I blogged, I wrote about The Big Lift. As you may have noticed, I never got around to writing part 2 of the trip which is a shame because part 2 is where we fuck shit up in Surfers Paradise. But hey, who wants to hear about that anyway?

I'll just give you a picture and we can pretend that I did.

Just kidding. I will get around to doing it. But probably not anytime soon.

See, this is my biggest problem. I start things but I rarely have the enthusiasm or motivation to finish them off. I'm not just referring to blog posts or TV shows either. This lack of follow through extends to bigger things like my university degree and friendships. Don't get me wrong - I am definitely committed to finishing off my Comms/International Studies degree (do you know how much money I've poured into my education??) but I suppose the passion I had for it has fizzled out a little since last year. I get bored easily and if something even remotely reeks of monotony, I drop it like a hot potato and run. And as much as I value my friendships, there's always something stopping me from taking that last step into opening up fully about my thoughts. It takes a certain type of person to get through to me and usually it's the relentlessly pushy types that have the most success.

Hi Cynthia. You're doing a great job of sounding like a complete and utter Princess Priss Pants. Maybe you should talk about something else.

Yes, good idea. Let's talk about my favourite thing in the world right now: my house.

Maybe it's because I've spent the last few weeks in a state of perpetual escapism but holy shit, I've missed my house. For the last few weeks, I've barely spent any time at home. I felt like I was racing against an invisible clock - every hour of stillness was an hour of my holidays dissipating into the void of wasted existence and I was determined to use up every last drop of it. I went on holidays with my uni friends, I ran off to the city every second day, I road-tripped across NSW and I spent every possible lunch hour and dinner time at cafes and restaurants soaking up the company of people I wanted to know better. I used money. Lots of money. And apart from the financial cost, I don't regret any of it.

But right now, I'm feeling the physical and emotional whiplash of it all. I should be experiencing some sort of regret that the last few days of my holidays are spent in a sort of hermit existence in my living room but I honestly don't give a fuck. This couch has never felt more comfortable. The lack of sunshine, so invigorating. And if I want to marathon all eight Harry Potter movies in one sitting, I bloody will and stopping me will be at your own peril.

I kid. Those movies together are too damn long. To get through all them, I'd need two days.

You know what's not long enough though? (No, not that you disgusting pervert). I'm talking about the amount of time a person can spend inside Costco. My friends Jess and Nancy took me to this wondrous and magical land of never-ending abundance last week and it took every ounce of my self-control not to empty out the Cream Puffs section. If I was a superhero, these frozen portions of creamy goodness would be my kryptonite. Not-so-interesting personal fact but the first every photo I ever uploaded on instagram was of a box of Cream Puffs. And now I can feel your judgement coming off in waves through this computer screen.

The Winter Break BBQ that the girls threw was fun despite the fact that I fell asleep halfway. Maybe it was a good thing though considering all the things that went down (or should I say came up?) that night.

What else have I been up to? Well I popped my Messina cherry. The experience was...good if not a little bit anticlimactic. They say you always remember your first but to be honest, after a few tastes, Fo Shizzle started to feel a bit sickening. Too many nuts and not enough cream I reckon.