antarctica

Of all the places I could possibly want to travel to in the world,

this one goes against my every bodily instinct.

24 hour sunlight, -70 degrees on a isolated continent blanketed by endless white.

and I really, really hate being cold.

but no matter what, i will always be compelled to set sails to the strange frozen desert at the end of the world. something about it has always made my imagination run wild.

the thrill of sailing up to thousand year old glaciers, the awe of watching wild penguins, the realization as you stare out upon white nothingness, daring to do the notorious "antarctic nudie run".

gee, and only $3000 - $9000 or up to $14000 for an icebreaker.

"get in quick - before it melts"

because i totally have that much money to spend and all.

damn you, ebay.

carrot top

the tiring thing is how nobody can ever be original with their hair anymore. heck, in my job booklet it even stated "no obscene hair colours". 

which kind of put an end to my dream of transforming into Tonks and her ever changing hair.

unfortunately, i actually need to keep my job (economic recession, dreams of travelling and all)

so instead of rebelling against the system and causing a riot i simply chose to dye my hair a "golden blonde".

on the packet it looked orange. i secretly wanted it to turn out that way.

so sabina (a ex blonde turned redhead turned washed out red turned "fuck i cannot afford to stay redhead" lass) and i donned the gloves, set up my bathroom, and accidently stained the washing machine in the process.

before, during

we (probably stupidly) bleached sabina's hair so she could just start again and be blonde again.  all was going well until we noticed her roots were dry. not wanting to be the cause of a unanticipated premature baldness, she washed it out a little early.

what can i say?

"accidently cool"

very.

she looks like a fucking sick 90s grunge girl.

mother dears reaction (bless)

mine, however, was most surprising. what was this "Golden Blonde" I was promised? it looks like orange and red had a big fucking rave on my head and this is its sick love child.

we had fun trying to look like boys. kurt cobain and james dean?

punks

Basically, I am the stereotype. I am the girl who didn't go to uni because I dreamed of something bigger. I am the school leaver who jumped in the deep end, unaware of the depth. I am the creative type stuck in a emotional rut. I am the gap year-er who imagines the world only to be brought back down to earth by her never increasing bank balance. I am the girl who dreams of bright lights and stars but I don't know how to reach them. I am still a little lost.

I was never good with directions.