The realisation is terrifying.

So today would have been my dad’s 55th birthday. 19 years ago he gave up the fight he had been battling with cancer.

Today, I realised that in 10 years time, I will be at the age where my dad lost his life, 36 years young. It terrifies me and it makes me so damn angry that he didn’t get the chances that a lot of people in this world don’t deserve.

He didn’t get to celebrate his 40th, or see his 2 little girls 10 & 8 years, grow up. He didn’t get to see their graduations, or their 18th’s, 21st and nor will he get to see their 30th’s. He missed out on the engagements, the weddings, and he will miss out on the grandkids he would’ve loved to of had.

I don’t usually get mopey on his birthday, and I wasn’t until I started writing this.

I guess it comes down to the age old saying..

Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 2.34.12 pm

Love always your squiggle. xx

two loves. together

So I’ve got a few obsessions. Luckily none of them are illegal..

They’re pretty simple things & they make me happy. Tinkering, or searching.

quotes + type.
graphic designer.
far too many fonts.

So when I’m bored, or I’m just taking some time out, I’ll go searching…

I search fonts; calligraphy, handwritten, serif, san serif. You name it.

I currently have over 1500 fonts on my computer, and that grows daily. It is fair to say I’m obsessed.

Yet then you throw in quotes, and it’s good bye Ash.

I want to fill my house with these inspirational posters with all these fancy fonts. I’m just lazy.

So instead – I’ll share a few with you.

**Ps these are not my images. These are different lucky bastards who have amazing photography skills & make me swoon. You can find these & more amazing shots like these at unsplash. You’re welcome.

quotes

Waiting, waiting, waiting

Is there anything worse than waiting and not knowing? Not even knowing how long you’ll be sitting here… Waiting. 

It’s driving me crazy and I’m being cryptic. 

Maybe all in good time I can announce what the waiting is for, but for now… I’ll just sit here & torture myself daily. 

Torn.

Another post! 3 days in a row.. you go Glen Coco! (mean girls was on the TV the other day – it seemed fitting)

So I’ve said before here¬†about how I’ve had like 3 blogs. Well I seem to like this one, and have been toying with exporting/importing the few blog posts I have from my other blog over to this one.

I wasn’t sure if I want these to mash together, if they were too different, or if I just didn’t want them under this blog.

Anywho – I decided to import these over. For shits & giggles.

Also… to get my blogs under 2 ūüėČ

Dreaming the days away

I’ve always wondered but never actually asked anyone.. Do you ever just make up other lives for yourself? Not because you don’t like you’re current life? But because you know it’s just not ever likely going to happen?

I don’t generally have troubles sleeping, but there are days when I can lay there for hours just waiting for sleep to come. So I dream this alternate life. 

One where I don’t have to worry about money, where (once again) I live in America & I’m following my dreams of becoming an actress in Hollywood. 

They all start the same & I never see how the end. 

Just a typical dream I guess.. Where it will never be a reality 

Out of my comfort zone

So yesterday I did something completely out of my comfort zone. I can’t & won’t go into it but it’s something I thought about for likely too long & almost had to be convinced to do so. 

But I did it.. And now it’s a waiting game. 

It’s the worse thing! All I can say in fingers crossed. #cryptic 

It’s time..

You wake up one day & say to yourself… it’s time to grow up.

When I say ‘grow up’, I say that pretty loosely.. At the tender age of 26 (going on 50 I swear), I feel like I’m generally in a pretty good position. My hubby and I have¬†had our house for 4 years (okay.. yes the bank owns it), we’ve been married for coming up 2 years, we have an adorable & highly spoilt dog and have been on 2 trips to America. In that regard – I feel grown up.¬†It’s the other parts of my life I don’t feel ‘grown up’ in.

In my last year of high school, I don’t think I imagined that I would be married, with a dog & a house. I figured I would be travelling the world ill mid 30’s. When I would wake up on morning and say to myself ‘I think it’s time to settle down’.

But life just doesn’t work like that.

I have dreams. Massive dreams of living overseas. I dream of it literally almost every night.

I see my life in Chicago. Enjoying the beautiful frosty weather in boots, and scarves & thick jackets. In a beautiful 3 level terrace house, that includes an attic or a basement den. I see a beautiful kitchen with marble bench tops & dark wood doors. I also have a window ledge seat.

Don’t ask me what this is this is with my dreamy window seat ledge/book nook.

Or I see myself in Dallas. Enjoying the hot weather & being around our wonderful Texan friends. I see myself growing old there. Slipping ya’ll into my vocabulary or explaining to people – I’m not Australia nor am I America.. I’m Texan’.

I just see myself somewhere other than Perth.

Don’t get me wrong… Perth is a pretty lovely place. I see what tourists love about it & I know it’s beauty. I just feel stuck here. It’s such a small city & although I know of many people who have happily lived here their whole life (my mum included) I don’t want to live & die in Perth. I want to see the world.

So it’s been in the back of my mind for the last say 3 years. Look at working visa’s in US/Canada. Pack up life. Live.

I’ve just never gotten there. I’m still here. In Perth.

I’m on a roll…

#7 Р9 things you just can’t handle
Fat Mum Slim‘s 50 things to blog about

So I finally finished #6 and thought I might get started on #7 now. Whilst the last one was a little somber; I’m hoping maybe this one will give someone a bit of a giggle.

Once again – referring back to¬†+Fatmumslim‘s¬†50 things to blog about.
So here we go..

Wow. Where to start. Let me start by saying, I’m easily irritated so dwindling a list down to only 9 is going to be hard. This may end up being 9+100 things that annoy me.

1. Food.
I’m sorry, but I’m going to put these¬†together. Mainly because if I was to list the food related things that annoyed me individually, well there goes my 9 all smack-bang at once.

I’m not going to lie; I’m a fussy eater. Always have been (you can ask my mum) and most likely always will be. Things were made even more difficult when I was diagnosed Coeliac in 2012. Cue the endless terrors of eating out & people telling me (yes mum and Cortney I mean you) ‘You should try it, you might like it’. Unlikely. Highly unlikely.

So there are 2 foods on this earth that I despise. As in, hate the smell, the texture, the look.. Every. Damn. Thing.
a) Cooked mushrooms. Those vile things make me want to vomit. As in, actually make me sick to the stomach. I could find the teeniest bit of cooked mushroom in a dish & pick it out. Every single piece.
I remember growing up with mum cooking them. She would have to give me a good 10 minute warning they were coming & I would lock myself in my room & not emerge for at least an hour. That smell does NOT go away quickly.
b) Seafood. Any seafood. All seafood. Fish, crab, squid, crayfish. Literally all of it. The smell. The taste. Just no.
I remember for years mum used to make me sit at the table, especially on Good Friday (we aren’t religious but this was the only day mum followed something like eating no red meat or whatever the deal is) and tell me ‘You’re not leaving until you’ve finished your fish’. I can’t remember what age it was that she gave up; but eventually I got to have chicken on Good Friday. I still can’t stomach it. Even walking through a shop, or the markets & that smell just twists my stomach.

2. People touching my feet. 
Even I can’t touch my own feet sometimes. I have the most ridiculously¬†ticklish feet. But it’s not oh-that’s-funny-ticklish. It’s I-want-to-kick-you-in-the-face-ticklish. 2 years ago, I went to Bali with my mum, sister, aunty & family friend for my mum’s 50th. There, they thought it would be a good idea to inflict a pedicure on me. I had never had one before, and spent the whole 30-40 excruciating minutes writhing in complete discomfort. The poor girl who had me, must’ve thought I was some sort of alien. I mean, aren’t all women supposed to like pedicures? Anyway – you would be happy to learn, I survived and she didn’t receive a roundhouse kick to the face.

My sister then thought it would be ‘fun’ to make me have one the day before my wedding. Yes! I know you do all those things before something big like your wedding, but it wasn’t all less horrible than the first one. I just can’t handle anyone touching my feet. Flat out horrible.

3. Something touching my left leg. 
This one is a little weird, but let me explain..
Nearly 5 years ago, I had¬†a knee reconstruction on my left leg. It healed nicely & I haven’t had any issues (except for needing a knee reconstruction on the OTHER leg, but that’s another story). Well, that is except for the numb/dead section on the outside of my leg leg. Just under my knee, partway between my shin & my calf. This has been there since the day I woke up from the surgery. There is always risks of such things as nerves being damaged, and I was one of those lucky ones. It’s horrible. I say it’s dead – but it’s not because I can feel something, it’s just not right, or normal. I can’t even begin to explain the feeling.

Now that brings me back to what actually annoys me about it. It’s not the actual numb section itself, its when something in close proximity & touches it. Ever so slightly. It’s like a jolt. Regardless of where I am, my let gets pulled back & as far away from the said object. I swear my hubby does it on purpose sometimes. When they do the whole ‘boy sit’ and his leg touches mine. What’s worse – is I think I’ve got the same numb feeling on my right leg, from my recent surgery. This isn’t going to go down well.

4. TV shows on break.
This is completely unnecessary. Especially mid season. I’m not even going to expand on this.

Just quit going on breaks. #please

5. Clapping in small spaces, aka the car. 
I’m not even going to expand on this one, except say 1 thing – Travis; this is directed at you.

Quit it.

6. When the hubby slurps his food.
I don’t live with anyone else, so this is specific to the hubby. He slurps his food. All. the. time. He slurps it when it’s hot, he slurps it when it’s cold.
It immediately grinds my gear, and I just want to shove his face into his food.

7. Feet
Refer back to #2 – this goes for anyone’s feet. I just hate them.

8. The feeling of dried salt on my hands.
I’ve never stated anywhere that I’m not a little odd. Well I am, and there are some weird things that irritate me that didn’t make this list. This is the biggest one.
You know that feeling when you’ve been to the beach, and you literally have dried salt all over my body. In your hair, on your lips, your legs & your hands. Well that feeling right there, to me is almost as bad as scratching nails down a blackboard.

I hate it when my hands are dry, but the feeling after being at the beach is 100 times worse. I will actually sit there, with my hands clenched until I can wash them, or wet them, or put some sort of moisture on them.

9. Spiders – or anything with more than 4 legs.
This isn’t even something that annoys me, this is a fear. Which is getting worse, the older I get. So much so – I don’t even want to get into it. Those bastards freak me the f**k out.


Well that sure was interesting! I hope you all learnt a little bit about me, and now realise I’m a little more twisted than you thought.

Until next time

Ash xx

Hardest thing I’ve ever been through

#6 – The hardest thing you’ve ever been through.
Fat Mum Slim‘s 50 things to blog about

I’ve fallen off the bandwagon.. Again. I have all these great ideas of starting, and staying up to date with a blog, yet that lasts about a week.

But here we go – I’m going to get through this list, even if it kills me..¬†Or takes me a year.

This one hits close to home. Well Рit did hit my home.

December 2nd 1996, my world and my family’s world came crumbling down.

I was woken, at the age of 7 to hear my dad had succumbed to the beast of cancer.
Aged 36. At 7 – you don’t really understand the concept of death. At 36 – you don’t deserve to be robbed of the rest of your life.

I don’t remember much of my dad’s illness. It was quick, and pretty relentless. It started in his lungs & eventually spread to his brain & bones. He fought hard for 10 months, but unfortunately it spread too far & on the 2nd Dec 1996, the beast won.

I was 7. I also don’t quite think I really understood what was happening. I was too young. I look back now & realise that thankfully I only have good memories, I don’t remember the bad. Whether during his illness or not. I don’t remember him telling me off, I don’t remember there being fights, I don’t really remember when the cancer got too aggressive & he was admitted back into hospital.

I remember that he was a quiet man. Full of dark curls & this ridiculous moustache. His receding hairline & his uncanny knack of falling asleep on the lounge (generally whilst Home & Away was on) with his hand tucked just under the waistband of his pants.

I do remember walking into the bathroom once & seeing him run his hands through his dark curls I had known my whole life, and see chucks of it fall to the ground. Soon he was bald. I do remember that.

I remember the love he had for us & how he fought hard and to this day, as the years go on and the older I get, I will never forget him. I may wish that the world wasn’t so cruel, and how I would love to see him one last time, or talk to him again, but I know that we don’t live in that fairytale world. But how nice it would be…

My mum became my hero that day and I could tell you all the reasons she is, but I don’t feel like this is the post.

This is about the worst thing to happen to me, not the best.

December 2nd 1996, my world and my family’s world came crumbling down, but we are okay, and will continue to be okay. *Sorry this took so long. It actually took me quite a while to find the words to say.

Dad1

Biggest lie

#5 – ‘That one time you told the biggest lie..’
Fat Mum Slim‘s 50 things to blog about

I’ve been putting this one-off for a while.. Well I can’t even say I’ve been putting it off, I was going to compete this ‘challenge’ a while ago, but I got stuck trying to think of that lie, if I had one. I then got sidetracked with life.

Even now I’m back here trying to write #5 and I honestly don’t know if I have a massive lie. Maybe that in itself is my biggest lie?

I’ve met people in my life that are ‘story tellers’. The ones who love to tell a good story. I’m not against telling a good story, I just see that if someone isn’t interested in the real story, then why should you change it, alter it, make it bigger & better than it is.

I’ve been trying to rack my brains, and I’m sure when I was a kid I told a massive lie. Maybe the time I told mum I liked sandwiches & she made me take the to school.. That ended up with maggots, moths & a fear of sandwiches that is still ever clear.

Maybe I will run with that.

I don’t even see things as the biggest, or the smallest. Sometimes the smallest of lie can hurt the most.

I am in now way at all, saying I am a saint but I do try to live myself in the truth. I love a story, but love the real truth.