Two little letters, one syllable; more of a sound really and yet it is enough to strike fear into the hearts and minds of women and men everywhere. That one little utterance, that flexing of your tongue as it moves to form words, one word actually, 'ex'. As in 'the', or at least 'one of'.
Yes, ex. I saw mine not a week ago and the experience, like it always does, left me pensive.
I'm not going to lie, I dislike the dude. Not for anything he has done or for anything in our past but because I am older now and my eyes are wide open. I can finally see all the things I couldn't see before: that he is rude and arrogant, impolite, selfish, self absorbed and well, kinda dumb. In the spirit of being truthful I will also admit that that the simple act of him existing often offends me and quite frankly, I wish he wouldn't do it, but then I'm dramatic that way.
So with all of that said, if you asked me if I hated him, I will reply no because I really don't. I thoroughly dislike him, yes, but I am indifferent to him. Mostly I don't like seeing him because it is awkward, the kind of awkward that makes your eyes bugg out and insides squirm. I have nothing to say to him but if I don't talk to him then I'm being immature, I also have nothing to say to the new girlfriend and yet I am forced to talk and be nice to her. I have nothing, period and it's frustrating keeping up appearances. We're not friends. We never will be and yet once or twice a year I have to play make believe.
I think once upon a time it was a 'winning thing' because it's always a competition with the ex to see who has 'moved on first' and with whom. Who's more successful, happier, better off? Who cares? I don't. That's the truth actually, I don't. He brought 'Tammy'. Cue blonde haired, petite little Italian girl. I brought my two cousins, one aged 7, the other 5, my grandmother, both siblings, the siblings girl friend, my auntie, my uncle and my olds (mum and dad). No mans in sight and I didn't feel inferior because of it (that's the not caring part).
And THAT, that act of not caring is how I know I'm right when I say I'm indifferent. I think I can still dislike someone and be indifferent to them. Once upon a time I would have fretted over seeing him because he goes through girlfriends like underpants, so no doubt he would have one of them there. I don't date people that often, lets be honest, so the chances of me ever having some man candy to flaunt at one of these things are slim, and I USED to care. Not so much anymore.
So what did I do? I said hello, did the obligatory 'hey, how ya doing?' and then I proceeded to mingle, I danced like a fool with my little cousins and whipped them around the floor, I drank a little, danced a little more and then I left. Indifferent.
So I suppose the curse of the ex is finally over. I have been indifferent for what seems like a life time but there always existed that sense of competition. Not anymore. This time was the first time i really didn't care what he thought of me or who was 'winning'. As far as I'm concerned I've won. Great friends, great family, a uni degree, a good sense of self. Couldn't really ask for more.
-Nadia X
Monday, November 14, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
What in the who? Men.
Trying to speak the language of man. I can't do it. Seriously ladies. Just when I think I am beginning to become bi-lingual, a man will do something so dumbfounding that I am left, well, dumb founded. It's then I realise that I haven't a hope in hell of understanding these creatures, much less of them understanding me.
Now, I'm not one to pigeon hole people....who am I kidding? Yes I am, I love to pigeon hole. Moving on, may I just say this: men are freakishly inconsistent and while I realize they are no more inconsistent than women, there is something about the ties of womb-hood that makes womens' bat shit crazy behaviour an easier pill to swallow (dah, it's called PMS)
The more I get to know of men, the less I think I really know. And in turn, the less I know, the more I think I'm getting it. Does that make any sense? I didn't think so either.
Now before anyone gets their knickers in a twist and thinks this is a rant of the jilted. Don't be fooled because it isn't. It's a rant of the Nadia and if I had to compare it to gunfire I would describe it as more of a localised spray of machine gun ammo rather than the targeted fire of a sniper rifle. You get my meaning?
I'm happy to report that man-dom (traits of the man) can be observed at a young age and can often be seen in boys as young as four. This sense of man-dom can manifest in simple ways such as seeing who can pee the furthest, taking things apart (i.e. breaking things) to see how they work, toting literature to the bathroom and being mean to girls you like.
Later on in life man-dom can usually manifests itself in such ways as seeing who can pee the furthest, penis measuring (either literally or by comparing of possessions, usually cars), taking things apart (and still breaking them) to see how they work, toting literature to the bathroom and growing ridiculous facial hair (because you can).
Conclusion: Men are boys with facial hair who occasionally have dick measuring contests.
So I have come to terms with the fact that boys, men, dudes, guys, blokes (just males in general) will continue to astound me, probably for the rest of my life. I see no rhyme or reason for the majority of the things they do. I can observe no pattern in the way their brain works, except when little man does the driving. And that is all.
So there is my man rant because sometimes, they drive me freaking crazy. At other times I bless the world for men, because let's face it, when the barbecue guests separate into men and women you know which groups conversation is going to be more interesting. But to be fair, I take back what I said earlier about understanding women. I don't. I just pretend to so they don't sense my weakness and try to tear out my spleen, because PMS jokes aside, women are freakin' scary. Truth be told, it could be argued that my problem is just people in general. You wouldn't be wrong. I'm an angry mofo myself but I hope that's part of my charm.
Anyways, goodnight.
Nadia X
Now, I'm not one to pigeon hole people....who am I kidding? Yes I am, I love to pigeon hole. Moving on, may I just say this: men are freakishly inconsistent and while I realize they are no more inconsistent than women, there is something about the ties of womb-hood that makes womens' bat shit crazy behaviour an easier pill to swallow (dah, it's called PMS)
The more I get to know of men, the less I think I really know. And in turn, the less I know, the more I think I'm getting it. Does that make any sense? I didn't think so either.
Now before anyone gets their knickers in a twist and thinks this is a rant of the jilted. Don't be fooled because it isn't. It's a rant of the Nadia and if I had to compare it to gunfire I would describe it as more of a localised spray of machine gun ammo rather than the targeted fire of a sniper rifle. You get my meaning?
I'm happy to report that man-dom (traits of the man) can be observed at a young age and can often be seen in boys as young as four. This sense of man-dom can manifest in simple ways such as seeing who can pee the furthest, taking things apart (i.e. breaking things) to see how they work, toting literature to the bathroom and being mean to girls you like.
Later on in life man-dom can usually manifests itself in such ways as seeing who can pee the furthest, penis measuring (either literally or by comparing of possessions, usually cars), taking things apart (and still breaking them) to see how they work, toting literature to the bathroom and growing ridiculous facial hair (because you can).
Conclusion: Men are boys with facial hair who occasionally have dick measuring contests.
So I have come to terms with the fact that boys, men, dudes, guys, blokes (just males in general) will continue to astound me, probably for the rest of my life. I see no rhyme or reason for the majority of the things they do. I can observe no pattern in the way their brain works, except when little man does the driving. And that is all.
So there is my man rant because sometimes, they drive me freaking crazy. At other times I bless the world for men, because let's face it, when the barbecue guests separate into men and women you know which groups conversation is going to be more interesting. But to be fair, I take back what I said earlier about understanding women. I don't. I just pretend to so they don't sense my weakness and try to tear out my spleen, because PMS jokes aside, women are freakin' scary. Truth be told, it could be argued that my problem is just people in general. You wouldn't be wrong. I'm an angry mofo myself but I hope that's part of my charm.
Anyways, goodnight.
Nadia X
Monday, August 29, 2011
Please find attached: my thoughts for a Monday
When I am feeling a little lost. When I am feeling alone or confused I have a tendency to seek a point of reference to help make my mind be still. For me, that point of reference that offers that sweet stillness is Robert Frost. So I sit down and I let Robert tell me about the Road not taken. And the Road not taken is this:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
You can take from that what you will, but I personally take from it this.....
I am one traveler, capable of only taking one road at a time. I could waste endless brain power and energy wondering where other roads would have taken me, or wondering what paths I will happen upon next but it would be just that, a waste.
I am not hung up about where I'll be, or even where I've been. I have never been the type of person to regret or to rue past mistakes. Mistake is a dirty word because all mistakes really are are lessons, and the only shame in making them is if you fail to learn from them.
When people ask me 'what design studio I want to work for" or how I'm going to go about 'becoming a designer', I get a little annoyed. What is a designer, anyway? Are we designers already, fledglings though we are? Does having a job magically transform you into one? And why does this degree have to define me? Define my paths in life? Dictate my future? It doesn't.
This degree to me is not my be all and end all. Perhaps it's that thinking that will be my down fall in the end. Maybe it will be the difference between a Pass and a Fail, a mediocre grade or a great one. I don't care.
This degree is a skill set. It is something to be applied in life, in work, in play. It's another side, another facet I can claim I own, to apply in whatever way I see fit.
The way I see it is that life is about passion. A lot of things have happened or not happened this year to make me question the passions in my life and what is important to me. I don't fancy being cooped up in a studio designing corporate identities. That's not creativity to me.
I started life out of high school wanting to be a hair dresser. Obviously that didn't happen. Why? Would I have been good at it? Most definitely. Would I have enjoyed it? I dare say I would have. Why didn't I do it? Because people told me not to. Lesson learned. So now I don't listen to what people say, I listen to myself.
The truth is, I have never been sure of what I wanted to 'do with my life'. Did I think Vis comm was going to be the solution to my problems? Heck no, but it was a starting point. It was the road not taken, so I took it and it will no doubt lead me to another way, another path, another endeavor and boy am I excited to see what it might be.
I don't make plans. Plans get broken. I have dreams instead because no one can take those away from me. So on that note, I leave you with a story that my friend was kind enough to tell me last night about some tiny frogs:
The story about the tiny frogs....
There once was a bunch of tiny frogs, who arranged a running competition.The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower.A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants...
The race began...
Honestly:
No one in crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower.
You heard statements such as:
"Oh, WAY too difficult!!
They will NEVER make it to the top."
or:
"Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!"
The tiny frogs began collapsing. One by one. Except for those who in a fresh tempo were climbing higher and higher.
The crowd continued to yell
"It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!"
More tiny frogs got tired and gave up...
Until only one continued and eventually, made it to the top.
Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: That frog was deaf.
The moral of the story is this: Never let other people's negative and pessimistic attitudes affect you or make you doubt all that you are capable of. Take pride in doing what people have told you you cannot do. Strive. Achieve. Dream. Take the road not taken.
Remember the wisdom of words, and the power of them. Everything you hear and read will affect your actions!
Therefore: ALWAYS be POSITIVE!
And above all: Be DEAF when people tell you that you cannot fulfill your dreams. Be deaf to words like 'wrong', 'can't', 'wont', 'never' or 'mistake'
In conclusion, I have always believed that life is quite scary but waking up and realizing you never lived yours is a scarier thought still.
I hope this wasn't too soppy, cliche and unoriginal. I won't judge anyone for not reading until the end.
-Nadia X
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
You can take from that what you will, but I personally take from it this.....
I am one traveler, capable of only taking one road at a time. I could waste endless brain power and energy wondering where other roads would have taken me, or wondering what paths I will happen upon next but it would be just that, a waste.
I am not hung up about where I'll be, or even where I've been. I have never been the type of person to regret or to rue past mistakes. Mistake is a dirty word because all mistakes really are are lessons, and the only shame in making them is if you fail to learn from them.
When people ask me 'what design studio I want to work for" or how I'm going to go about 'becoming a designer', I get a little annoyed. What is a designer, anyway? Are we designers already, fledglings though we are? Does having a job magically transform you into one? And why does this degree have to define me? Define my paths in life? Dictate my future? It doesn't.
This degree to me is not my be all and end all. Perhaps it's that thinking that will be my down fall in the end. Maybe it will be the difference between a Pass and a Fail, a mediocre grade or a great one. I don't care.
This degree is a skill set. It is something to be applied in life, in work, in play. It's another side, another facet I can claim I own, to apply in whatever way I see fit.
The way I see it is that life is about passion. A lot of things have happened or not happened this year to make me question the passions in my life and what is important to me. I don't fancy being cooped up in a studio designing corporate identities. That's not creativity to me.
I started life out of high school wanting to be a hair dresser. Obviously that didn't happen. Why? Would I have been good at it? Most definitely. Would I have enjoyed it? I dare say I would have. Why didn't I do it? Because people told me not to. Lesson learned. So now I don't listen to what people say, I listen to myself.
The truth is, I have never been sure of what I wanted to 'do with my life'. Did I think Vis comm was going to be the solution to my problems? Heck no, but it was a starting point. It was the road not taken, so I took it and it will no doubt lead me to another way, another path, another endeavor and boy am I excited to see what it might be.
I don't make plans. Plans get broken. I have dreams instead because no one can take those away from me. So on that note, I leave you with a story that my friend was kind enough to tell me last night about some tiny frogs:
The story about the tiny frogs....
There once was a bunch of tiny frogs, who arranged a running competition.The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower.A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants...
The race began...
Honestly:
No one in crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower.
You heard statements such as:
"Oh, WAY too difficult!!
They will NEVER make it to the top."
or:
"Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!"
The tiny frogs began collapsing. One by one. Except for those who in a fresh tempo were climbing higher and higher.
The crowd continued to yell
"It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!"
More tiny frogs got tired and gave up...
Until only one continued and eventually, made it to the top.
Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: That frog was deaf.
The moral of the story is this: Never let other people's negative and pessimistic attitudes affect you or make you doubt all that you are capable of. Take pride in doing what people have told you you cannot do. Strive. Achieve. Dream. Take the road not taken.
Remember the wisdom of words, and the power of them. Everything you hear and read will affect your actions!
Therefore: ALWAYS be POSITIVE!
And above all: Be DEAF when people tell you that you cannot fulfill your dreams. Be deaf to words like 'wrong', 'can't', 'wont', 'never' or 'mistake'
In conclusion, I have always believed that life is quite scary but waking up and realizing you never lived yours is a scarier thought still.
I hope this wasn't too soppy, cliche and unoriginal. I won't judge anyone for not reading until the end.
-Nadia X
Monday, July 25, 2011
I want Kandee
So the deal is this: I fucking love Kandee Johnson. I'm not afraid to admit it.
I love her. Wholly. Completely. Stalkerishly. In a girl crush, creepy kind of way. LOVE. It's love.
It is nothing short of an obsession that sees me compulsively checking my YouTube account hoping that there is a new video for me to watch, favourite and adore.
This may come as a shock to you since I don't seem like much of a girly girl but I LOVE make up. I love it. Make up makes me happy. I like doing other people's make up. I like doing my own make up. I like watching other people do make up. And I love, love, love trying out new colours and products, especially if I can get them on the cheap.
Also, it may have taken me 23 years but under Kandee's influence I think I may have finally found my appreciation for the colour pink. I mean, obviously green is better you know, pink is a'ight.
I've lost my train of though.....oh yeah. Kandee. Ummmmm so it's love. Mostly I love her personality because she is uber quirky and just ever so slightly a freak. But also because I think she is awesome because she started from nothing and is famous from YouTube!
Now I don't want to get all gushy and goopy but she is pretty inspirational. She started out with a camera so old that you could hear the wheels squeaking when she filmed, in poor lighting with a backdrop of a sheet and some fairy lights and she would just sit and film. She was a single mum as well and she has built up such a following that now she is paid to be on YouTube and makes her living from it. Plus, she's a HOOT!
So yeah. I love Kandee. Did I mention that already? You should check her out. I'll post links to her FB, YouTube and Blog.
Also, I should mention that the first time I saw her I HATED her but if you know me then you would know that that is often the case with people I end up coming to freakin' LOVE! You just have to earn your stripes.
So click the links below because you love me, so you can love Kandee and most importantly, because I told you to.
Ciao for now. Hopefully I will end up a professional FaceBooker one day. Cross your fingers for me.
Kandee J YouTube (Barbie tutorial)
Kandee J Blog
Kandee J Face Book
XX
Love Nadia
Monday, April 25, 2011
A little bit of a rant....
So..... I just commented on a post on one of my friend's blogs
And when I went to click to post my comment I was confronted with my pet, pet, pet HATE- word verification. Now, I am a reasonable person and I understand that companies like Yahoo! and Google employ such techniques to differentiate the squishy flesh bags (humans) from the super kinetic evil cyborg sexbots that are no doubt trying to take over the world one blog comment at a time.....
But Gosh! it's just super annoying. And just because I am so super annoyed, why, here is an example....
Now I don't know about you but as someone who is certifiably NOT an evil super inhuman cyborg, or a sex bot, I can't freakin' read half of these!! It's too warped for my squishy human eyes to see. And all my tiny mind can scream is 'BAD TYPOGRAPHY! BAD!!!' after my face has melted off from taking a hit of Charlie Sheen. Like OMFG! Really Google? Really??
So, Jess Matthews, I am here to tell you that I commented on your post to the detriment of my eyesight, sanity and just general all around health. I hope you appreciate it. But it was well worth it because the essay you spoke of really was written by a King of the Douche bags. The kind of douche bag that other aspiring douche bags take a knee to admire. That level of douche-dom.
Anywho.....
Yes. Word verification. Get another system of verification! Because that one fails in the most epic of proportions. And I think, Ladies and Gents, that that is all. Rant over.
FIN-
-Nadia
But Gosh! it's just super annoying. And just because I am so super annoyed, why, here is an example....
Now I don't know about you but as someone who is certifiably NOT an evil super inhuman cyborg, or a sex bot, I can't freakin' read half of these!! It's too warped for my squishy human eyes to see. And all my tiny mind can scream is 'BAD TYPOGRAPHY! BAD!!!' after my face has melted off from taking a hit of Charlie Sheen. Like OMFG! Really Google? Really??
So, Jess Matthews, I am here to tell you that I commented on your post to the detriment of my eyesight, sanity and just general all around health. I hope you appreciate it. But it was well worth it because the essay you spoke of really was written by a King of the Douche bags. The kind of douche bag that other aspiring douche bags take a knee to admire. That level of douche-dom.
Anywho.....
Yes. Word verification. Get another system of verification! Because that one fails in the most epic of proportions. And I think, Ladies and Gents, that that is all. Rant over.
FIN-
-Nadia
Thursday, April 14, 2011
I feel....Wicked.
Oh my golly gosh and oh, gee. I just saw Wicked for my very first time. And to quote Gidget,
"Honest to goodness, it was the absolute ultimate."
It was completely speldiferous and confoundifying. Absolutely wonderific and marvelistic. If you have not seen this show, then you HAVE to see this show. If you have seen this show, then you HAVE to see it twice. It has EVERYTHING! Laughs, tears, wit, sass. All the things that make life grand.
And you have to see this particular cast because Jemma Rix who plays Elphaba, is phenomenal and Lucy Durack who plays Galinda, the good witch, is just hilarious. Her voice, her mannerisms, her little quirks and kicks will have you in stitches. I am just enamored by both of them. The whole cast are just amazing!!
So yes, I will stop babbling now. Just [insert exasperated gasp], go watch it. It will be like the first time you saw a Disney Cartoon, basically, your face will melt off. *
*Disclaimer: Nadia is not responsible in any way for the melting off of faces while watching Wicked or Disney related visual media. If your face does melt off for any reason, please stop viewing said media*, and seek medical attention immediately.
*Disclaimer for the disclaimer: By "immediately", we of course mean after the performance.
And you have to see this particular cast because Jemma Rix who plays Elphaba, is phenomenal and Lucy Durack who plays Galinda, the good witch, is just hilarious. Her voice, her mannerisms, her little quirks and kicks will have you in stitches. I am just enamored by both of them. The whole cast are just amazing!!
So yes, I will stop babbling now. Just [insert exasperated gasp], go watch it. It will be like the first time you saw a Disney Cartoon, basically, your face will melt off. *
*Disclaimer: Nadia is not responsible in any way for the melting off of faces while watching Wicked or Disney related visual media. If your face does melt off for any reason, please stop viewing said media*, and seek medical attention immediately.
*Disclaimer for the disclaimer: By "immediately", we of course mean after the performance.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Blog re-discoveries call for shameless self promotion
Feels a little strange to re-open my blog and not post to celebrate the occasion. Kind of like being used for sex and not taken out for dinner before hand....not that I know what that's like.
So here goes, shameless self promotion.
You can FB me [here]
Form spring me [here]
Vouyeristically stalk my lame DA account [here]
Be a pal and vote for me [here]
Or comment to unleash a can of whoop ass and possibly have a sexy conversation, during which I will only charge you mates rates on a count of I'm such a nice person. Do it. You know you want to.
Love,
Nadia.
So here goes, shameless self promotion.
You can FB me [here]
Form spring me [here]
Vouyeristically stalk my lame DA account [here]
Be a pal and vote for me [here]
Or comment to unleash a can of whoop ass and possibly have a sexy conversation, during which I will only charge you mates rates on a count of I'm such a nice person. Do it. You know you want to.
Love,
Nadia.
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