52 Shades of Jai

because 365 shades is a commitment i'm not ready for yet.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Ten: VIRGO

‘Baby I know that it’s real’ - ‘A Gift from Virgo’ by Beyoncé from the album ‘Dangerously in Love’.

Aloha lady friends!

Welcome to 2016 edition of the 52 Shades of Jai. 2015 did not prove to be the most successful year of blogging, which is fine, you win some, you lose some.

How does it go? - ‘It doesn’t matter how many times you fall, it’s about how many times you pick yourself up’.

Whatever, that is sufficient, you get the idea. I sucked last year, this year I am back with a vengeance and I’ll endeavour to be better.

So I have the day off today, I am in the bathroom shaving my legs in the middle of Winter (still irresponsible) and what better time to get back on the blog bandwagon!

Razor in one hand, half shaved leg in the other, broken iPad blaring 80’s extravaganzas on the bathroom sink, let’s party.

So what do I write about? There is no use trying to recap the last year, I am not interested in looking back and also there is a very high chance that I have forgotten a large majority of what has happened, but I do have a memory that keeps popping into my head about something great. THE ZODIAC.

My relationship with astrology begins in a very unlikely place and actually has a very ridiculous story. Let’s reminisce, shall we?

It is 2003 and I am operating at my goal weight of 23 kgs, my hair is a disgusting undercut like the creepy man from Charlie’s Angels, I haven’t yet learned that the tighter your school uniform is, the more attention you will receive and I have an unhealthy obsession with Beyoncé, who has just gone solo and released ‘Crazy in Love’.

I love that song. Great memories.

That is a story for another time however haha!

Anyway, the scene is set. There I am, toasting marshmallows on a bunsen burner in my Year 10 science class, wishing that it would end so I can go back to practicing my dancing, completely unaware of the entertainment symbol and icon that I would become over the next few years, when I am called over by Mrs Jenkins, my teacher.

(I cannot recall the exact words of the conversation, because I don’t know how people spoke back then in the olden days, so here it is, translated into 2016 English)

Mrs J: ‘Hey girlfriend, I need to talk to you about your homework assignments’

Me: ‘Oh no, am I a hot mess? I’m sorry but plants are just not my thing baby girl’

Mrs J: 'Sister, I don’t want to crush your mad flow, but science ain’t your thang and you're basically going to be at the bottom of the billboard 100 if you keep this up’

Me: 'Death’

To summarise this literature masterpiece, I was going to fail science unless I picked up my game.

Me, being from the same Hollywood starlet vein as Lindsay Lohan, decided that I would not go down without a fight or an ankle bracelet. I was going to write the best science assignment ever, win an oscar or whatever you win from getting A’s in science and live my life as the revered queen of Scientology.

Wait, that’s wrong isn’t it. Anyway, you get the point, I was on a mission.

I thanked Mrs J for her feedback, snatched my assignment page off the desk and then in my head the blaring horn introduction hook of 'Crazy in Love’ started playing and I stomped out of my science class, smashed a locker door on someone, kicked over a rubbish bin, set off the fire alarms and danced a solo in the sprinklers. No, that didn’t happen, but this story would be so much more fun if it did.

Okay, so I went home and glanced at my assignment pages, my redeeming science project was going to be all about 'ASTROLOGY’.

Wonderful, Astrology. I love reading those in my Mothers gossip magazines. What a fun science assignment. I love science. This is gonna be great.

I threw myself into my work with reckless abandon. I learned how I was a Virgo, 6th House of the Zodiac, represented by the wheat harvesting woman. Proper, intellectual, feminine, rational, seductive, hard working. Yassss. All the treats.

I read my mothers magazine for inspiration.

Virgo - Your stars indicate success in the coming weeks.

Damn right Woman’s Weekly, SUCCESS.

The next week I showed up to Science class with my five page assignment on Astrology, complete with glorious cover page, hand coloured with my Faber-Castell colouring pencils and prepared for my coronation as science queen and future winner of the Nobel Peace prize. Mumma didn’t raise no fool, I am a science extraordinaire.

In blog tradition, let me translate this amazing moment into 2016 English.

Mrs J: 'Your cover page looks glorious’

Me: 'Thanks Kitty girl, I worked rullll hard’

Mrs J: 'But why does it say 'Astrology’

Me: 'Ummm, you are the one who makes the assignments gal pal, this is what you asked for’

Mrs J: 'Look home slice, did it not once occur to you in that block head, under that hideous undercut weave, that the theories of personality and behavioural factors being determined by planetary locations at the time of birth, might possibly NOT be the basis of your SCIENCE assignment?’

Me: 'Too many big words, Felicia doesn’t understand’

Mrs J: 'Your assignment was about Astronomy, NOT Astrology’

Me: 'Wahhhhhh’

Saddest kitty. I was not going to get an A for explaining to Mrs J why Taurus and Libra will not work out and even my pretty cover page wasn’t gonna get me anything.

It just goes to show, you can be the juiciest and ripest peach on the tree, but it won’t help you when the assignment is to be a tomato.

So, I failed Science, which is fine because Scientists would probably lose at RuPaul’s Drag Race trivia night where I would clean up and it takes all types to keep the world spinning.

Whether you are savvy with science, dance like Beyoncé, have shaved legs in winter or something else, the world needs us all and what I want to add to it, is more blogs.

So that is the story about how I learned all about star signs, relatively useless in the science world, but fascinating none the less, good conversation starter and even better blog.

For the record also, I am the most un-Virgo Virgo in the history of Virgos.

Till next time! Xxxxxxxxx

'It’s not right, but it’s okay’ - 'It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay’ by Whitney Houston from the album 'My Love Is Your Love’.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Nine: ADAPTABLE.

‘No question, time for some action’ - ‘Dirrty’ by Christina Aguliera featuring Redman, from the album ‘Stripped’.

Oh dear.

So my blog is like Cher, just when you think it’s over, your home girl pops out another hit and you know we’re in for a treat.

Let’s get this horror show on the road then shall we?

So my new job is going really well, which is nice of course. It keeps me out of trouble (sort of), it’s challenging and most importantly, it is teaching me lots of fun new tricks, which was ultimately the aim of the 'New Job’ game.

Every day I wander into the Merchandising office, trying unsuccessfully to smuggle a bag of chocolate goods in and on a gigantic whiteboard is my schedule for the week.

Because I’m always moving about, I’m never quite sure what to expect. I’ve had to play in kids wear, menswear and of course my home playing field of scandalous ladies wear.

This particular week, I am chomping on chocolate coated hazelnuts when I notice next to my name is a day allocated to the devils uniform - LINGERIE.

Whatttttttttt.

I know nothing about 'Boulder-Holders’ and Knickers. This is going to be a disaster hahaha.

I have seen lots of tops in my time that I would consider to be under garments and denim shorts that are probably identified as underwear in about 80% of the worlds countries, but I know nothing about actual Lingerie.

I do my routine meltdown and panic attack, while trying to find the whiteboard markers and eraser so I can put myself on something else, but I already know it’s futile. I’m going to have to do this and there is no amount of chocolate goods or whinging that is going to help me.

Luckily for me, I will not be alone in this endeavour. One of the girls on the team has been assigned 'Lingerie’ for the day too. She is a super babe from France and according to her, the average French girl spends about 90 euros a month on naughty knickers. She loves lingerie and she knows it like the back of her hand.

Go France! Minx Nation! Gold stars! I approve.

I am relieved that someone who is super experienced in this garment group will be with me and I realise that I have an opportunity here to learn all about it and become the princess of Lingerie Town.

So we make our plans and then the explanations begin.

Ummmmm.

Lingerie is beyond complicated.

The key to being a really good product merchandiser is being able to work with garments objectively. Leave your personal taste at the door and try and figure out who would wear what you are working with.

When I work Menswear, I’m shocking and I just pick all the things that I will force my eventual husband to wear, sometimes I go with things I would wear if I was boring and respectable.

Questions I ask myself during this process:

'Do normal boys wear floral yet?’ 'Is business-wear a real thing?’ 'Does this look like something a man that gets excited for Shark week would wear?’

When I work kids, I put together things that I imagine the meanest child in school would be wearing.

More key questions: 'If I was ten years old and about to get into a fight, would this leather jacket restrict my movement too much?’ 'Do ten year olds actually still like Ninja Turtles?’ 'Do we have anything with Kate Moss on it?’ 'Do we have those shoes with the roller skates in them here? If we do, what size do they go up to? Can I put my size on hold? Do they light up when I walk?’

So when I was finally standing there in front of 30 million different sets of bras and underwear, from scandalous and saucy to basic and practical, I found myself a little overwhelmed. Basically EVERY woman has to wear these, there is no specific client.

I thought of my lady friends, but they were no help, because most of the time they lie around wishing they had fake boobs so they didn’t have to wear a bra anymore.

Luckily, Princess of France was already off and killing it hard. It was so interesting to do, she was so helpful! Everything got separated into a type and all arranged perfectly.

Padded bras, push up bras, super push up! There is one for every occasion! Every size! Every cup! After seeing it all in action, I can completely understand how 90 euros a month can be justified.

What if you need a bra that is lacy, with padding, but not a push up?

You have to buy a new one!

What if you need a super push up, but in a plain colour to match your dress?

Need to buy a new one!

And did you know that sometimes they don’t even have cups in them!? They’re just all mesh! Yasssss! Slay!!

That’s so naughty! Haha! Those ones were super provocative, I was shocked we had any left! Bad gals, get on that!

By the end of my trip to Lingerie land, I was exhausted and full of so much respect for organised lingerie stores and women who wear the right bra, because there is a freaking art to it and it’s not easy!

Oh! Funny little side note here.

I had a ladies lunch this weekend and I was telling one of the girls about my Lingerie adventure and she told me about when she got married, it’s a tradition for your husband to buy you a lingerie set to wear under your wedding dress.

I didn’t know that, but that’s super cute!

Anyway, her husband went out and got this super saucy leather, outrageous kinky set hahaha! Yasssss!

So boys, if you made it this far into this blog (gold stars if you did), remember that in the event you get married, buy a nice set that can be worn under a wedding dress and not a dangerous and super scandalous fetish piece, because wifey will not be impressed or comfortable in it at all! Save that for the right time!

Shout out to French Kitten for your patience home girl, I am eternally grateful! Ily a milli xxxx

'Every day is Christmas and every night is New Years Eve’ - 'The Sweetest Taboo’ - by Sade, from the album 'Promise’.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Eight: CONFIDENT

‘I never thought this would happen to me, never thought this is where I’d be’ - ‘Chains’ by Tina Arena from the album 'Don’t Ask’

Oh wow,

So my blog writing skills need some major work.

Since I have started my new job, my mind has been completely overloaded and I have neglected my journey of self discovery while I have been trying to nail the basics of my new position.

Physically, I have been struggling with early mornings and almost four hours of travelling everyday.

Mentally, I have been struggling with learning new systems and procedures that are almost alien after four years of dancing to the same tune.

Socially, I have been struggling with trying to make a good impression on my new work peers and also balance my friendships out of work with my new timetable.

Struggle, struggle, struggle.

Girrrrrl, the struggle is so real.

More than this, I have felt myself feeling completely unsure and my confidence levels have been at an all time low.

It’s so bizarre to me that I would feel like this. I know what I’m doing, I’m perfectly capable of smashing all of the tasks and trials that I have been put up against.

I found myself second guessing every decision and step that I made. Is this right? Am I doing this properly? Do I actually suck at this and I don’t know? Why hasn’t anyone ever told me that I actually suck at this?

I came home every day and sat down and tried to figure this out. Why on earth am I having such a hard time with this?

That was when I decided to dust off my laptop that has probably been in sleep mode for a few months now and got to writing.

If I can’t sort this out in my head, I should be able to sort it out on virtual paper.

I typed and typed and typed away, slamming my fingers on my keyboard and my head on the table trying to wrap my head around why I was having a Britney Spears 2007 meltdown.

It was then that I came to a realisation.

So much of my confidence as a person stems from the fact that I have always been very good at my job.

Did I get too drunk at the club and drop it too low in front of people I don’t know?

Doesn’t matter bitch, because I am a bomb visual merchandiser.

Did a stupid boy tell me that he doesn’t think I’m dating material?

He’s wrong, but also I don’t care because I can perfectly balance Coral with Cobalt Blue details and evenly distribute it across a sea of White Product. So byeeeee asshole, I don’t need you.

Most of my major personality flaws and life failures, I have been able to ignore, disregard and compensate with the fact that I have been near the top of my work game for so long.

But now babe, I am the new gal on the block. I am not JLo judging peasants on American Idol and performing songs with Iggy Azalea. I am Jenny, still on the block in the Southside Bronx, trying to get a High School certificate and signed to a record label.

Yikes, oh how the mighty have fallen.

I had always considered myself a reasonably confident person. Sometimes I get to the point where I think I am immune to sickness, possibly bulletproof and also capable of flight, but most of the time I have always felt quite secure in my own skin and able to dust myself off when I needed to.

But it appears that quite a lot of that came from my belief in my professional abilities.

Now being in an environment and situation where that is all being tested I have found that I have had to draw that strength from another source.

This has highlighted to me the deficiencies in my life where I haven’t spent as much time developing. It’s fine to draw confidence and pride from certain aspects of yourself, but when circumstances change and the balance is shifted, you can find that there are other areas where attention is needed. It’s not a bad thing, I am learning.

My journey to becoming a well rounded and level headed person means I shall start addressing these short comings. It’s like beauty queens, you can’t win just by being pretty, your weave game has to be on point, your dress needs to be amazing and you have to answer all the questions properly.

Hypothetically as a beauty queen I would be really pretty, but my weave is still being sewn in, my dress just arrived from China about twenty sizes too small with a few sequins missing and when it comes to the questions, I lack basic comprehension.

But beauty queens aren’t made over night, even Sandra Bullock needed a few weeks in 'Miss Congeniality’.

True confidence comes not from an external factor, it comes from within. It needs to come from me. Not from my skills in my profession, not from my incredible family and friends. It needs to come from me.

It comes back to my little purple pocket book of husbands. I need to add to that list of great and wonderful traits that I have, but more than that, I need to believe in them.

I am smart, I am funny, I am a fantastic merchandiser, I’m weird as hell and I’m actually quite confident.

I am all of these things but I am also more than just these things and I should be proud of that.

It really isn’t that easy to find what makes you special and just 'you’, but never keep looking and remember that you are so much more important and capable of things than you even know.

I have to stop writing now, or I will run out of things to say and I’m not even close to being finished with this blog.

HAHAHAHAHA.

Till next time Felicia xxxxxxx

'Do it, do it, you do it, you’re doing it well’ - 'Do It Well’ by Jennifer Lopez from the album 'Brave’

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Seven: GRATEFUL

’When I was down, you were always there to comfort me’ - ’A Song For Mama’ by Boyz II Men from the album ’Evolution’.

After minxing around in foreign states, I finally had to come home.

Kalgoorlie was super fun, though didn’t have enough attractions to keep a wily coyote like me busy.  But it did have a place called the ‘Super Pit’.  It’s the gigantic mining site, where they dig for GOLD.

Apparently they only dig up the equivalent of a matchstick per day or something, which doesn’t really seem like a lot for all the work that they have to do to get it.  I’ve probably got it all wrong, as previously mentioned, I am a terrible listener.

Anyway, after a few days and a marathon of movies, it was time to relocate to Perth for a few days! Weeeeee!

It’s so nice to be in a city, I like to pretend to be a lean, mean, country machine, but I am a bigger, thicker, city slicker.

I spent a few days hanging out with my cousins and then my cousins wife and their kids who were HYSTERICAL.  A more intense game of 'Paper, Scissors, Rock’ you will never see played.  They jump and have these wicked sound effects.  Also, I’m pretty sure the winner gets a free shot at the other ones face.

I had an amazing time with one of my favourite previous work friends and her giant horse which she tries to disguise as a dog.  Seriously hun, that dog is GIGANTIC.

But even I know that being a lady of leisure in a foreign state can’t go on forever.  Employment is hopefully calling and I should really try and be in the same state as the phone.

So I booked my flight home and against my insistence, Mama waswaiting at the airport with a giant smile on her face and an excitement to see me home. We walked in the door and Mum came into my mess of a room which was still as terrible as I left it.  She sat down and laughed as I recounted my outback safari, complete with dance moves and hideous facial expressions.  I was merely trying to convey the horror of seeing dead kangaroos on every corner for four days straight.

Also, I had to show her how I owned my cousins from the West in a dance battle by dropping the twerking splits.  They were not ready for that.

Twerking while having your legs pointing in opposite directions will get you out of many sticky situations, it’s also a real crowd pleaser.  Take notes Beyonce, I’ve yet to see you do this.

Mother wasn’t impressed, because she is confident that she raised me better. Like always, she’s right.

After our quick catch up, Mama went to bed and we agreed to talk more in the morning.

But I was tireddddddddd.

I didn’t rise from the dead until after 12pm and the house was a ghost town. 

Mum had already left the house to do something with my younger sister.  So I slothed around, eating everything I could find and just enjoying being in familiar surroundings.

Having spent the last four years flying all over the place, spending weeks in hotels away from home, it makes you appreciate little things like your bed and your room, but then also big and amazing things, like a packed fridge and goody filled cupboards.

My older sister came through the front door with my baby nephew and we sat down with coffees and face masks and I began to tell her about the great 'Straya outback road trip extravaganza.

All of sudden our younger sister shows up and comes into the kitchen where we are sitting and quietly listens to our conversation.  She is fidgeting, and pushing her thumbs together.  This is her tell-tale sign that she has done something naughty.

When I’m in trouble, I purse my lips and get all this tension in my neck.  It’s so I look fierce and I have a theory that fierce people don’t get in trouble.  Have you ever seen anyone try and put Naomi Campbell in her place? But to be honest, I think I was probably a frill-neck lizard in a past life and it’s just old reflexes flaring up. 

Her voice is quiet and she tells us that while she was at lunch, Mum was with her son in the playground and as her little boy has climbed out, Mum has followed and she has fallen and hit her head on a Ronald McDonald statue.

I instantly feel my body freeze.  Frozen.  Every piece of warmth instantly leaves my body.

She tells us that Mum was dazed and she could tell something was wrong.  Mama could not speak and so she took her to the hospital, where they took her in straight away.  I feel sick as she tells us that she has cords hooked up to her chest and they’re monitoring her heart to ensure she hasn’t had a stroke.

My heart breaks when she tells me that Mum won’t stop crying.

Dad is waiting with her and she tells us that we can’t go up as they’re still in emergency, there is no room and there is no use in us being there, we simply have to wait it out at home.

She also informs us that Mum needs to go for a scan to see that there is no internal brain damage.

Gravity has a very strange way of becoming incredibly strong when you hear news like this.

I look up at my older sister and she is pushing her hair behind her ears and clearing her throat.  I wonder if I looked panicked too, the veins on my neck have probably exploded.

I quickly remind myself that I need to stay calm and I need to be strong.  We all need to be strong.  We also need to never watch a medical drama again, because our imaginations are out of control.

We all sit at the table in silence, before we finally speak and agree that she will be fine.  Mum will most definitely be fine, she is Mum, she is invincible.

I quickly excuse myself to the bathroom to wash off my face mask and it’s here that I notice that I am shaking.  I proceed to wash my face mask off, making sure that I get behind my ears.  Mum said I always have to wash behind my ears or they’ll go gross and it’s important to look after yourself.

I stare at my shaking hands and remember a conversation that Aunty Mary and I had while driving in the desert.  She said if her Mother was still around, there is so much she would say and like to share with her.  She told me how sad she was that she didn’t do more of this while she was alive.

I feel a stab of guilt as I think back to the last time I had been with my Mum.  I had spent all my time talking about myself and all the stupid things that I had done while I was off gallivanting, that I hadn’t taken the time to ask Mama how she was.

I made a promise to myself to tell Mum how special she was and how grateful I am to her, but to also take the time to talk with her more, because this was a wake up call, you only get so much time with your Mother.

I walked outside to get some fresh air and I felt myself begin to panic.  You never ever think that anything like this will happen to your parents.  They are the heroes of your youth, they do not falter, they get through anything.

I spent that whole day in a daze, nothing seemed important, nothing seemed interesting.  All I wanted was for my mother to come home.

I thought about taking a sledgehammer to every Ronald McDonald statue in a 100km radius, but ultimately decided that Mum would be displeased if she came out of hospital and found out I was in jail for public nuisance.

That’s all I’d get charged for, I definitely don’t have the upper body strength to do any real damage to a statue.  I’d probably break my arm just trying to get the sledgehammer out of the garage.

We got really lucky that day, Mum was released that afternoon, slightly shaken, bruised and a bit disorientated, but otherwise fine.

I sat down next to her on the couch, held her hand and just stared at my wonderful mother.

I know you read these blogs, so let me leave you these quick notes Mama.

Thank you for everything.

Thank you for all the hours you spent waiting for me while I somersaulted around the public library looking for more books to read.  

Thank you for saving me Marshmellow squares because you knew they were my favourite.  

Thank you for teaching me the impact of kind words and deeds.  

Thank you for the safe environment where I was allowed to be anything I wanted to be.  

Thank you for encouraging me to fight my own battles and that no one is better than anyone else.

There is no right way to be a parent, many people refer to their mother as being their 'rock’ or foundation, but I would like to thank my mother for being my wings.

The best way for me to honour everything you have done for me is to fly as high as I can.

Love you Mama, stay off the damn playground! xxxxxx

’Mama I love you, Mama my friend’ - ’Mama’ by The Spice Girls, from the album ’Spice’.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Six: BOOK-SMART

'At first I was afraid, I was petrified' - 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor from the album 'Love Tracks' This is it. This is how it ends. I'm sitting on the roof of my Aunty's car in the middle of the Western Australian desert, frantically waving her cellphone around, trying to get back that one bar of reception that just flashed up. The sky is pitch black and the only illumination is from our flashing hazard lights. My phone is sitting on the front seat, no reception at all. It's so fried from playing continuous lady pop chart toppers, that I'm suprised it's even on. We need help. I can't die here! I am a bad bitch and bad bitches do not meet their demise in the desert! I have already danced with death and he will admit that he's not ready to take all this bass from the face of this earth. I will go out in style, not in a no-reception area in the middle of nowhere. I'm not even wearing anything shiny! There I was, sitting on the top of the car in the pitch black night, waiting to get eaten by skippy the kangaroo and all his desert friends. Let's rewind a few days, shall we? I had just walked out of another exhausting interview. I'm getting tired of selling myself, I feel cheap and nasty. Just put me in your workplace and prepare to be amazed. I prefer to let my work speak for itself. I readjust my skin tight leather pants, flick my imaginary hair and prepare to head home when my phone rings! It's Mama. Mummy Darling has spread herself too thin again. She has mountains of paperwork to do, a wedding to help plan, sick kids to help look after and she promised Aunty Mary-Anne that she would drive with her to Kalgoorlie to help her move. Mother is fully aware that I have all the obligations of Kimberley Stewart, as in I used to be cool, but now no one cares what I am doing and I'm not expected to show up anywhere. So Mama asks me if I would like to take my blog on tour and do the massive four day road trip from Brisbane to Kalgoorlie. Just as I am making my imaginary pro's and con's list, my phone buzzes again and it's the officer handling all the recruitment for the company I have applied with. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear that I'm through to their next round, but their interviews won't be conducted until March. I let Mum know that I'm free to go joyriding through the outback with Aunty! Weeeeeee! Aunty had packed her Hyundai i30 (I think that's what it's called) to the rim, so that meant I had to limit myself to ONE bag. I am a notorious over packer, because I don't read weather reports and I truly believe that you'll never know when you'll need a faux fur coat, so you should take it everywhere. One bag was going to be torture. After cramming my entire life into an overnight bag and resisting the urge to just wear a thousand layers and just peel them off in the car, it was 3am and it was time to get on the road. Aunty Mary-Anne (or Mary as I like to call her) has lived in Brisbane for the last few months and we have always got on like a house on fire. She is hilarious, kind hearted and I knew she was super excited to move back home to Kalgoorlie and settle there. Together, we're not the brightest lights on the tree, or the sharpest tools in the shed but we're pretty and we're fun! Day one of the trip was remotely uneventful, we got pulled up by an unattractive cop that gave us a ticket for speeding on the Barrier Highway. That sucked. Day two we got super lazy and decided not to drive too far, taking in the sights and eating terrible food at truck stops. That night I nearly cried when I got into the hotel room and realised I was more tanned on one side of my body though. That sucked more than the ticket. Day three is when ALL the excitement happened. We were way behind schedule, we were supposed to be about 1,300km away, but we probably had another 500km on top of that to go! We were pushing it, everytime we came to another village, we would look at each other and be like 'Yeah, let's carry on the next one'. We were trying to get across the Nullarbor Plain as soon as we could. It's hazards include wild camels, snakes, wombats, goats, boars, emus and kangaroos. The later you drive, the more difficult it is to see and it's recommended that you don't travel across the Plain at night, because if these things come out onto the road, you don't want to smash into them. Except maybe the snake, that probably wouldn't do too much damage. Generally, smashing into wildlife: not so fun. Mary and I ended up making good time through day three and we were hoping to get from Eucla, which is the Western Australia border, all the way to Norseman, which would only leave us a few hundred kilometres away from Kalgoorlie. It was starting to get dark and we could see we probably wouldn't make it, so we were racing to make the next town before the last traces of daylight left the sky. I was looking out the window of the car and I saw this big sign saying 'R.F.D.S Emergency Airstrip' and the road ahead of us grew straight and wide like a runway. As soon as we passed the sign, there was a loud propellor like noise that kept going. Mary: 'Wow, it kind of sounds like a landing plane doesn't it?' Me: 'Yeah, that's crazy! They must do something to the road to make it sound like that, maybe it's got something lain on it so it's easier for the planes to land' Mary: 'Probably, that's neat hey?' Me: 'It's so loud, do you think there might be a plane coming down right now?' Mary: 'There is a little bit of smoke...' Me: 'Wait...' Mary: 'Oh no, I think we have a flat tyre!' DOOOOOOOOOM. We pull over, get out to check and sure enough, our back left side tyre has been ripped to shreds. Oh shit, I don't know anything about cars. I turn to Aunty with a questioning look and ask her if she knows how to change a tyre. She says no and we stand there for a few minutes laughing at the fact that we have been gallivanting across the country and neither of us know how to change a tyre. Okay, how hard can it be? Part of me dies inside when I see there is no reception on my phone. I thought I could look it up on YouTube and be done with it. I'm pretty sure there are YouTube videos on how to hot wire cars, so surely someone would have been lame enough to make one on how to change a tyre to help bimbo egomaniacs like me! Well there goes that way, looks like we're going old school. We unload the boot of the car, putting everything on the ground and pull out the spare tyre and the tools from the back of the car. Aunty lets me know that there is a car manual in the glove box too. So there I am, crouched beside the car in my tiny shorts and my pretty shirt reading the car manual, cursing my service provider, swatting insects and trying to figure out how the hell to get this fixed so we can get out of the desert asap. I place a towel on the ground, lie on it and place the carjack under the Hyundai and try to twist this stupid handle around. This is hell. Why is this taking so long? Eventually the car is propped up on it's side and Mary and I are congratulating each other on being pretty, smart and ultra resourceful. Triple threats! The manual then says to use the twister thing to get the nuts off the tyre and then lift the tyre off and put the new one on. Easy! WHAT. WHY WON'T THEY LOOSEN? WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT. I love to pretend that I am delicate and weak, mostly because it gets me out of labour intensive activities, but in reality, I am not kidding when I tell people I can slam them into the next dimension. I am a classy lady of colour and I am built for work. I am struggling to try and loosen these screw things, my arms are shaking, luckily it's dark so I can strain and pull ugly expressions, but it's no use. Who the hell put these things on here? The Hulk? Aunty and I both agree that these nuts must have been put on by a magician, or someone with some sort of electric gun to tighten them to the point of them being impossible to remove. I read the manual again, looking for some sort of detailed explanation that I have missed on how to do this, but there is nothing. It's getting late now and the night cold is starting to settle in. I wind the carjack down and Aunty and I decide that we'll just sleep in the car and try wave someone down in the morning. Hopefully they know how to reverse the bolt tightening magic spell on the tyre, or have an electric gun to loosen them. We pack everything away in the car and Aunty says we have to layer up because the desert air gets ridiculously cold. HELL NO. When we eventually get rescued in the desert, I will not be poorly presented. It will take a blizzard for me to change out of these shorts. I love them. Aunty shakes her head and we both agree that we should let someone know that we're out here and what happened. That's how I got to my current state. Sitting on the roof of the car, waving Aunty's phone around like a mad person. HELP. Eventually, I find the sweet spot where I get one bar of reception and rather than do the smart, efficient thing and try to send a message, I try to call our Kalgoorlie cousins. SUCCESS. I get through and let my cousin Jade know that we've got a flat and we can't change it because someone has clearly done a voodoo spell on the tyre and the nuts can't be loosened at all, they are on much too tight. Upon reflection, it kills me that I didn't think of this, but the first thing Jade does is ask me if I stood on the twister thing. WHAT. THAT'S GENIUS. Just as I am gearing up to climb down from the roof, change the tyre and save the world, a green BMW pulls up and Hottie McHottie in the drivers seat asks us if we need a hand. NO. GO AWAY WOLF CREEK. I KNOW HOW TO DO IT NOW. Mary is five steps ahead, wearing thirty jackets and a crooked headband, batting her eyelashes and praising the lord that we have been saved by a Good Samaritan, while I am busy cursing myself for not thinking of standing on the twister in the first place. Chuck is a 30 year old, kind of babe, Armenian dude that works in some sort of electronic field. I clearly wasn't listening at all because I was too busy cursing Mary and hoping that we don't get murdered. Chuck ends up being super nice and teaches us handy tricks on how to change a tyre and wondering how on earth the tire got so munted. He said in the state it was in, we probably drove for a few kms on it after it popped before we stopped. LOL. That must have been the 10 minutes before the landing strip that we were screaming with Tina Arena, which wouldn't have been as fun if we had actually ended up like her number one hit, in 'Chains'. I learned lots of lessons through this trip, from practical ones such as how to change a tyre and how to rebalance your tan when one side is darker than the other, to important ones like thinking outside the box and that sometimes when things aren't working, it's not because of voodoo magic, it's because you haven't tried everything. If it's not working, it doesn't mean it's doomed. Stop, think, listen to what others have to say. You can read a manual as many times as you like, but not every method and correct answer is written in a book. That's all babes! Xxxxxx P.S Mary and Chuck ended up exchanging phone numbers. He told her that she looked posh even though she was wearing a windbreaker hahaha. GROSS. 'Who knows what miracles you can achieve, when you believe somehow you will' - 'When You Believe' by Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston from 'The Prince of Egypt: The Soundtrack'

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Five: UNLUCKY IN LOVE.

'Even though I know they're no good for me, it's a risk I take for the chemistry' - 'Bad Boys' by Alexandra Burke, from the album 'Overcome'

In the spirit of Saint Valentine, it's only natural that we talk about lurveee.

I am super duper unlucky in love, I cannot claim to be an expert in this field at all.  My biggest love comes in a McDonalds wrapper with fries and a coke.  I don't know what I'm going to write and my thinking cap isn't working.  It's a pair of bunny ears I got last easter.

People say I give quite good advice when it comes to relationships, which I find bizarre, because when someone tells me their troubles, my response is generally the same:

'CUT. THEM. OFF.'

Luckily, my friends are smart enough to make their own rational decisions.  But seeing as we're already here, let's just see where it goes. 

Firstly, most boys that I know want to date pretty, delicate girls, not raging hot minxes with sassy mouths that can put them in a headlock if they are displeased.

Yes, I'm more than a handful.  It will take a heavily trained, military grade operative, armed with a truck of sedatives and a tank, just to tie down.

In my experience, boys are looking for a cheerleader, not someone to play the forward position on their football team and then back them up in the event of a punch on.

2014 proved to be a ridiculous year for me in the romance stakes.  After continuously rebuking anyone that suggested I try online dating, I finally figured I may was well get on the train and ended up downloading Tinder.

For those of you fortunate enough to not have had an adventure on the Tinder wagon, it is designed to be a dating app.  Linked to Facebook, it uses six of your most liked pictures and your Facebook description to create a default profile for you.

Then you set your preferences in the following:

Gender: Male and/or Female

Age: 18 - 50+

Location: 2km - 160km

Then BOOM!

The profile of a Tinderella or Tinderfella near you appears on your screen, you can check out their six photos, read their description and then it's time to make a decision.

Or you can just stare at their profile for a while, close the app, forget about them for a few days and make a decision later, I suppose.

Swipe their picture to the left if you are not interested in them, Swipe right if you are.  If you and your tinderlove decide to both swipe right on each other you get a match!

Yayyyyyyyy!

Hottie McHottie on Tinder thinks you're hot too!

Once a match has been made, you can message each other, getting to know one another or you can just do what I did and try to catch all the hotties, like Pokemon! Gotta catch 'em all!

I have a friend who I'm sure would love to remain anonymous, who also got on the tinder train and we used to refer to matches as 'Stallions' and Tinder as 'The Stable'.

Now Tinder is an app full of bugs and more than once, the app has wiped all our matches.  I'll never forget, sitting in a Canberra hotel, cry-laughing because she messaged to say she must have forgot to lock her stable because all her ponies escaped.

That might be one of those things that's only funny if you're me, but when I read this back in a year, I want to make sure I haven't forgotten that.

Anyway.

Tinder is a stallion filled battle field.  The world is full of crazy weirdos!  The thing about social media and technology as a whole is that you can be anyone you want.  

You honestly don't know who you are talking to, but it is a way to sift through them from the comfort of the couch, rather than minxing yourself to the max and then finding out your date is an unsociable creep.

Lazy level: INFINITY.

I didn't take Tinder too seriously, which is probably to my detriment, because I know lots of relationships have come from this app. Maybe I'm just old school and would prefer to meet the love of my life without the help of a handheld device.

One thing I did really enjoy about the app though, was the various ways in which people 'advertise' themselves.  Oh yes, people are creative. Your tinder profile is your chance to show the people around you, what you're about.  The best one I ever encountered, still makes me laugh now and it said this:

'I enjoy long walks on the beach with my boyfriend, until the LSD wears off and I realise I'm dragging a stolen mannequin around a McDonalds carpark'

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

It's such a shame he was a super creep, because they say you should date and marry someone that makes you laugh and I've been giggling about that for months.

My tinder adventure wasn't completely uneventful though.

There was one charming lad that managed to interrupt my quest for legendary pokemon and we shall call him Barry, because when my mixtape makes me famous, he might read this and I don't want him suing my broke ass for using his real name.

Bazza is a babe!  From somewhere in Greece, fantastic bone structure, about to finish a business degree, loves cooking and is super family orientated.  Baz ticks a few of the boxes that will allow him to be one of Jai-Low's back up dancers and eventual second husband.

We end up talking for awhile, nothing too serious, just getting to know each other and I find out he's also very thoughtful and my six tinder pictures (which are from 2009... Kidding haha) have him convinced that I am the hottest thang roaming the face of this planet.

Barry is concerned that I may not be real and asks me if I have an Instagram account.

MWAHAHAHA.

Any of you that know me personally are aware of how ridiculous my Instagram profile is and how much I love it.  You must always put your best foot forward on Insta.  When I'm not eating everything I can get my hands on, I'm thinking of ways to improve my Instagram.

MWAHAHAHAHA.

I laugh to myself because Barry is not ready for what he is about to see.  I just calmly inform him that I have a profile and it's nothing too exciting.  I forward the link and wait patiently.

LOL.  YOU GON' LOVE ME.

Boom.

No reply.

What the hell?

No reply.

Where did he go?

Zero reply.

I quickly review my Instagram.

I wonder which post was the deal breaker?  Maybe I roll around in the mud too much?  Maybe he doesn't approve of my love of the Kim Kardashian: Hollywood app?  I bet it's the post about that time I bent a 100kg weight limit ladder? THAT LADDER WAS FAULTY.  I DON'T WEIGH OVER THAT.

I vow to myself that I will make my Instagram more respectable, clean up my act and be a responsible and mature picture poster.

Then as I'm getting on Google to look at responsible and inspirational quotes for my new and improved Instagram, Bazza resurfaces from his stalking session with nothing but love proclamations.

Yesssssssss.

I am the hottest minx in all of Narnia.  I can release all the ponies back into the wild and live out the rest of my days with my Greek thoroughbred stallion.

Or so I thought.

Barry starts talking about my Instagram and says to me:

'You have very beautiful legs'

MWAHAHA.

Thanks Baz, you're so observant, how kind of you!  WORSHIP ME.

I pause for a second and think that 'beautiful' is a bit of a strange word to use to describe legs.  Usually legs as a body part are described as either 'nice' or 'hot'.

WHATEVER.

I am not bothered by Baz's strange choice of adjective, because I am too busy filling in our adoption papers to be sent away immediately, so I can finally get little Whitney Beyoncé Amy Winehouse Donna Summer Junior from an orphanage in a foreign country.

Then Barry takes it a step further.

'You have really beautiful feet'.

BOOM.

RED FLAG.

The alarm bells go off in my head.  Eject!  Bail!  Abort mission!  Do not pass go, do not collect $200!  Caution!  Get out of the stable!  I repeat, GET OUT OF THE STABLE!

I nervously giggle and tell Susan from Flight Centre, I'll have to call her back and not to confirm my honeymoon booking for 3 weeks in Barbados just yet.

Now, I know that we all have our favourite guilty pleasures and to each their own.  Whatever you want to do, that's fine as long as you have a consenting partner.

BUT GIRRRRRL, FEET ARE NASTY.

I hear the extent of Barry's fetish out, because he has been nothing but sweet and it would take a lot of courage to even bring that up and the least I can do is not be an asshole about it.

I let him down easy and wish him luck on his search for love while simultaneously trying to figure out how to crop my feet out of every Instagram picture I have ever posted.

That night I stopped using Tinder, mostly because I felt it was a bit hopeless, but also because of how easy it was to just run away as soon as something I didn't like came up.

You can't do that in a relationship, well you can, but your relationship probably won't last very long.

Reflecting now on my experiences on Tinder made me realise that I have to think more about the qualities and traits that I would like in a partner, what I am willing to compromise on and what I am not.

No more cheap ego boosts.  No more cheesy pick up lines.  No more lazy swiping.

But one thing I know is that the only tongues touching my feet, are the ones on my sneakers.

Till next time! xxx

'I would do anything for love, but I won't do that' - 'I would do anything for love' by Meatloaf, from the album 'Bat out of hell II: Back into Hell'

[jaisamuel]

When your leather pants are falling apart, just like your life.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Four: PROUD

'This is where you want to run and leave, the moment that makes you want to scream.' - 'Scariest Part' by Jessica Mauboy from the album 'Inescapable'.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

You made this promise to yourself.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

Oh boy.

I'm petrified.

My interview is about to begin.

I'm not kidding, I'm sitting in the waiting room right now waiting for the call to go in.

I'm freaking!

I need to calm the hell down.

The pretty receptionist tells me that the person conducting the interviews is 10-15 minutes late with another applicant.

Oh no.

If she's still in an interview that must mean she likes the applicant and they have so much to talk about.

I should just leave now.

No!  Stop being a scaredy cat!

Maybe the applicant is annoying and the lady conducting the interviews is just too polite to stop them.

That is definitely it.

I ask the pretty receptionist if there is a bathroom I can use and she tells me that it is one level up.

I smile and thank her and dive into the lift.

I'm panicking.  Why am I panicking?

Get yourself together.  You can do this.  You can do this.  You can do this.

I readjust my bright floral shirt and pull up my leather pants.

'These don't fit me well' I mumble to myself and I make a decision to throw them out if I make it through this.

I do that awkward shuffle when you're trying to pull something up, but your thunder thighs aren't cooperating.

RIPPPPPPPPPPPPP.

FUCK.

What was I thinking this morning?

Three hours ago, I was in a much different state.

I woke up extra early after being up all night working on a portfolio for my interview today, I had collected all the images I had from my time working and put them together in this super cute format.

HP Laptop and I are getting along quite well.  Last week I finally figured out how to turn him off.

(For anyone wondering, you have to log out first and there is a button in the bottom right hand corner with a tab that says 'Shut down'.  I know what you're thinking, yes I am a computer genius.)

It turns out that HP laptop has been in sleep mode for nearly a month now, I guess that makes two of us.

Feeling super confident, I flew out of bed and started blasting music.  The first song to come on is 'Physical' by Olivia Newton-John which is a musical masterpiece.

I'm minxing around my room, pretending to be an 80's aerobic instructor, throwing printed shirt after printed shirt into a gigantic pile on my bed before lying face down on the carpet and telling myself I have nothing to wear.

Life.  Why are you being so hard?

I put on my printed two piece suit and hate it.  I put on a nice T-shirt and jacket and then slap myself for thinking that was even a possibility.  I finally settle on a printed floral shirt and the aforementioned leather pants of death.

Leather pants are like a samurai sword for the modern day gal. Sharp, intimidating, a symbol of power and if you don't know what you're doing with them, you'll end up injuring yourself.

'Leather pants never let down' I smile to myself.  Let's get physical Olivia, I am ready for war.

Fast forward three hours and I am trying not to hyperventilate in the lift as I feel the top of my waistband ripping from my pants.

THIS. IS. NOT. HAPPENING.

Thank Whitney that this floral shirt is long enough to cover this travesty.

I WILL DESTROY THESE PANTS AS SOON AS I AM HOME.

I finally make it into the bathroom and thank goodness no one else is in there.  I look in the mirror and I know it's game time.  Calm your tits.  Pull it together.

Where on earth is your self belief? 

Why has it bailed on you now?

I take a few deep breaths, I roll my shoulders and I feel myself start to relax.

'You're here because you wanted more.  Don't be afraid.  Believe in yourself.  Believe in your worth.'

ZEN.

I AM AT ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE.

I readjust my hair, straighten out my shirt, curse my leather pants and I strut back to the lift.

'Game On'

I can't reveal too much about the interview.  I put the best foot forward that I had that day.  I have a few things that I need to work on and I'm grateful for the opportunity and the experience.

Someone looking at you and your accomplishments objectively can tell you a lot of things that you didn't think of.

I'm sure that I'm good, I just need to prove it to you.

You can probably tell that I haven't come away from it feeling very confident, but what I have come away feeling, is PROUD.

I put myself on this new path and I am not afraid to say that I am struggling.  My mind is filled with doubt and uncertainty.  I feel overwhelmed and I feel uncomfortable.

But even among all of my own worry and angst, there was moments when I caught glimpses of that fire spitting dragon minx that I know I can be.

Out of my comfort zone, having the guts to take on the opportunity, self assured and trying to find something fulfilling and new.

I may not have hit a home run, but today, I am proud that I was even out on the damn field.  You can't hit a home run if you're just sitting comfortably on the bench.

Good night everyone xx

'If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again' - 'Try Again' by Aaliyah from the album 'Romeo Must Die: The Album'

[jaisamuel]

Went on an accidental pub crawl yesterday with my home girl @emmalouise and stumbled across this gem in Alfred and Constance. If the music is good baby, shake it like a salt shaker!

[jaisamuel]

Here is the jacket. How many zips and buttons and buckles can one person wear? 😭

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Three: NON-SMOKER.

'Love me, love me, say that you love me' - 'Lovefool' by The Cardigans from the album 'First Band on the Moon'

Oh dear.

This shade of Jai isn't true at all.

Let me rephrase that.

This shade of Jai isn't true.... YET.

Not many people know this story, in fact I don't think anyone that wasn't there this night, knows that this is how it began at all.

I was 19 years old at the time.  Foolish, ridiculously impressionable, oblivious to how the world works and poorly dressed.  I was also head over heels in lurrrrrrrve.

It was a cold winters night in 2008 and I had spent all day shopping for something cool to wear, after all, that night I was going out with the coolest boy I had met in my life so far and all his super cool friends.

There I was in my acid washed jeans, my fitted white tee and a Wayne Cooper jacket that I had spent half my pay check on.  I must have looked terrible! Ewwww!

We were in this awful, dirty night club and I was trying my best to stay cool, so I didn't have to take my fugly jacket off.  I was so nervous and I kept playing with the sides of my shaved head, mostly because I liked feeling the buzzed hair against my hand, but also to make sure I wasn't sweating.

Perspiration is grounds for annihilation.

He was so calm and collected, surrounded by all these people that I thought were the social elite.  Brisbane didn't come much cooler than these four people.

He smiled at me, flashing this mouth of pearly white perfection and then offered me a puff of his cigarette.

Ughhhhhh, I was such a loser!  Why didn't I just say no?

I was so shy back then, I shook my head and stared at the ground.  I was praying that he wouldn't ask me again!  Praying that his cool friends wouldn't pay me out for not smoking with them.

Then he sat down beside me and I felt his arm on my shoulder.

Eeeeeeek. Eeeeek. Eeeeeek.

He looked me straight in the eye and flashed those damn perfect teeth again.

'C'mon, just one puff'

I giggled nervously and tried to turn my attention onto something else.

'Inhale it, then breathe it into your lungs and then just breathe it out again' his rake thin friend said.

I took the cigarette from his hand, desperate for him to think I was cool! 

Ughhhh, retelling this story is killing me.

I took it between my lips and thought to myself 'DO NOT FUCK THIS UP'.

They all stared at me in anticipation, the good little kid in the ugly jacket, about to smoke for the first time.

I breathed it in, felt the smoke go into my lungs and breathed it straight back out, watching the smoke leave my lips and out.

Yesssss. I am like a cool kid from the movies.

'Good job' he said and his arm stayed around my shoulder as he carried on the conversation he was having with his friends.

Now that I am older, I'm absolutely disgusted, but at that time, I thought I was the coolest mingah on the block.

I had my spunky man friend, my Wayne Cooper jacket and I felt like I had made the transition into 'cool adult' by smoking a cigarette.

SO UGLY.

At first I only smoked when he was around.  Eventually, I picked up the habit myself.  Socially at first, then they became a part of my routine.

I would never smoke at work because I hated the smell on other people and I didn't want to be in the shop reeking of death.

But afterwards, I would come home and sit on the deck with a glass of wine and a cigarette reflecting on my day.

I always said to myself that I would quit whenever I felt like it, but this has proven to be harder than I thought.

Smoking has become a bit of a vice for me.  When I am stressed, I light up.  When I am bored, I light up.  When I can't be bothered eating anything, you guessed it, I light up.

I decided to look into the health effects of smoking, but I already knew what I would find.

There are basics that everyone knows, due to some fantastic marketing by various corporations.

'Every cigarette is doing you damage'

'Second hand smoke kills'

'Smoking is the major contributing factor in lung cancer'

'Smoking can lead to blindness'

Yet still I find myself unafraid to light up.

Now that I am older and maybe not that much wiser, but smart enough to know better, it is time for me to give up the ciggies for real.

Jai, smoking is killing you.

The smoke you are inhaling, is slowly eating away at your lungs and your body.

We all have our demons, but this is one that I have allowed to stay with me.  But a demon is still a monster and maybe that monster won't kill me today, but if I let it stay with me, eventually it will.

My friends want to run a 10km marathon and I don't want to do it with them because I know that 6 years of smoking (and my love of burgers) has helped reduce my fitness levels to the point where I don't think I can do it.

So now is the time.

I'm not that silly little kid anymore.  I don't have anything to prove anymore by smoking, but the sad thing is, I didn't have anything to prove in the beginning either.  There's not much I can do about what happened back then, but when time machines are invented, I'll go back and slap that cigarette out of my hand and light that jacket on fire.  

This is an addiction that I have given to myself by being too weak willed, many years ago.

Today I put on the jacket and after being wildly impressed that it still fit, I looked in the mirror.

'No more'

I tossed half a pack in the bin and made the commitment to myself. I don't want to do this anymore.  This is an unhealthy habit and now I am going to break it.

I smiled to myself as I hung that ugly jacket back up on my rack.  I can't call myself a non-smoker yet, but just like the journey to figure out what you want in life, it all begins with a commitment and even the smallest little step.

The only thing I'm lighting up from now on is your life! Xxxx

'With a taste of a poison paradise, I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic?' - 'Toxic' by Britney Spears from the album 'In the Zone'

[jaisamuel]

Bye Bae! Thanks for the laptop! 😘

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number Two: CHEAP.

'Bet it all player, f**k the price, money ain't a thing, throw it out like rice' - 'The Jump Off' by Lil' Kim from the album 'La Bella Mafia'

Alright, now we have the serious talk out of the way, let's get down to business!

Being a lady of leisure has many bonuses. You can sleep all day, stay up all night, paint canvases at 4am in the morning and you can play in the swimming pool at midnight, while watching YouTube videos and trying not to drown or electrocute yourself.   

When it comes to resting and recreational activities for a thug leisure lady, there is really only one major limit: COLD HARD CASH.

Having been unemployed for 12 days at the time for this writing, it had just dawned on me, that the bling bling that I was blowing, was now in limited supply! Eek! But there are so many things that I NEED.

When I made the non-profitable decision to divorce my job, I always knew that I would have to put a limit on my favourite past time: buying myself trinkets!

While I was working, I had access to a Lenovo laptop, which was also big and bulky enough to double as a riot shield in the less savoury suburbs of both Australia and America.

Lenny the Lenovo and I went everywhere together and I'm pretty sure that's the reason that one of my shoulders looks so busted, because though I loved him, that fool was heavy!

Having lost Lenny's fat ass in the divorce, I knew that it was time to find his replacement, preferably a younger and slimmer model. If I was going to take the blog from my head and go online, I would need a pretty laptop to do it! Keyword: NEED.

Wandering around shopping centres and looking in electronic stores is not the usual Wednesday afternoon activity for a minx like me, but because I have all the time in the world on my hands, I knew that I had no reason NOT to go on the hunt for the cheapest and highest quality laptop I could buy with my divorce settlement money.

After hunting like an Amazonian lioness that hasn't eaten in a week and has four cubs to feed, I found myself in a store that I completely forgot sold laptops, because I only ever go in there looking for Whitney Houston concert DVDs and cheap Spice Girl albums.

I don't want to mention what store it was because I'm slightly embarrassed about the events that went down in there this particular day.

Okay, so let's get a few things out before this story begins:

1. I am the cheapest of cheap bargain shoppers. I am a discount queen. If it's 50c and you've got a discount sticker above it, trust and believe that I know exactly how much that is and I will be prepared down to the cent, when it comes time to pay.

2. I have a massive weakness for attractive shop assistants, if there is a super cute assistant at the counter, I will not be using my 5% off voucher on my $1 purchase because hot people don't do that to each other. They can however, convince me that I need 24 month house and contents insurance for my new $7 K-Mart toaster.

So there I am, in the middle of this store trying to look like I am not trying to figure out which one is the cheapest. Nodding as though I know what '4hkz / 700 RAM / 234gb / Hi Def' means and I am a serious shopper who only wants the highest specifications on my shiny new laptop.

In reality, when it comes to electronics, I am absolutely clueless.

I know how to plug an auxiliary cable into an amplifier! But that's only because working in retail and listening to the same CD for 8 hours a day will make you learn how to do naughty tricks like that.

Disclaimer: Playing music this way in a public place is quite possibly a crime, so I would just like to take this time to let everyone know that I have most definitely NEVER done this. Like EVER.

Anywho, sensing weakness the sales assistants send in this total babe to sell me a million things I don't need.

He has no name tag on, but I'm just gonna call him Bae, because that's what he is. BAE.

Bae is tall, has a few tasteful tattoos, slick hair, long eye lashes and a symmetrical face, he also is limping around on a broken leg. Poor Bae is damaged, but would last a few rounds on the new America's Next Top Model for sure. 

He asks me what I need my laptop for and I tell him I want to write a blog. He looks at me, seemingly impressed and with a curious look, then says:

'Wow, cool, what are you going to write about?'

Me, being a master of zero tact and living life without forethought, quickly replied with this winner:

'I don't know, I just quit my job'

So that is not what I meant to say and that definitely didn't come out the way I wanted it to.

Good one Jai, way to make Bae feel secure about your future together.

'I'm not self absorbed Bae, I'm really thoughtful and helpful! Let me push you around in a wheelchair! You'll see, I'm really kind!'

Wahhhhhhhh.

Bae instantly clicks on that he's not dealing with the brightest bulb on the tree and instantly switches up the game and tries to sell me a Mac, using big words like 'pretty' and 'sleek' and 'microsoft office'.

I am eating this up. Yes Bae, sell me the prettiest Mac on the shelf. I will definitely need a unicorn printed case for it, you are so right, you just know me so well.

Just as I am about to agree to purchasing this amazing computer laptop thing, out of the corner of my eye I see this sign go up above the HP laptops. The words I was looking for as soon as I got in there: 'FURTHER REDUCED 15% OFF'

Yeowwwwwwwwww.

I instantly sprint away from Bae and snag myself a giant black riot shield laptop with a giant 'HP' on the front. I don't know what it does, or how to use it, but it's so cheap and it must be mine.

Bae tries to mix up the game on me, making one last ditch attempt to make me choose something else.

'Oh that deal doesn't start until tomorrow.'

Omg Bae, the vision I had of me pushing your wheelchair around the park has changed into me pushing you down a hill real quick.

I realise that it's time to get hood on Bae, because I am leaving with this laptop today and it will be 15% off.   

CHEAP. CHEAP. CHEAP.

Besides, that '15% off' will be going towards the admin fees on iTunes. I'm going to need that when I drop my mixtape, the hustle is REAL.

Hahaha.

And so I say to Bae, the words that every retail person hates hearing:

'I'll just put this one on hold then and come back for it tomorrow'

*imaginary hair flick*

Bae knows that I am not playing with him anymore and his wheelchair is about to go into a murky lake.

'Orrrrrrrrr, you could save yourself the trouble of putting it away and save me the trip and do it for me today?'

*super sweet smile and double imaginary hair flick*

And that girlfriends is how you claim a deal that doesn't start until tomorrow.

I left with my new laptop under one arm and my notebook under the other and with a smile and wave to Bae and his computer friends, I was off to start writing!

Maybe this shade should have been labeled 'HUSTLER'.

Nope, one thing I definitely know I am and quite enjoy being, is a CHEAP bargain hunter. While it hasn't exactly proven to be a groundbreaking realisation, the more I am sure of, the less I have to figure out.

I have to go now, because I have an eBay bid on a unicorn cover for my new laptop and it's only at $2.30 at the moment and I don't want to miss out.

Till next time xxx

'Do the hustle!' - 'The Hustle' by Van McCoy and The Soul Company from the album 'Disco Baby'

[jaisamuel]

The only way to fail at life is to abstain.

[jaisamuel]

Shade Number One: BRAVE.

'Sayin' you running but you ain't going nowhere. Why you procrastinate girl?' - '212' by Azealia Banks from the EP '1991'. I have spent months agonising over what to do. What to write. What to say. How to get this story started. One thing I have learned however, is that you're never truly ready for anything. Confusion and lack of focus are the result of having no direction. That is exactly where I am right now, standing at a crossroad with a million options, where the only limits I have are the ones I have placed on myself. 3 weeks ago I quit my fantastic job, where I was secure, perfectly capable and stable. Standing in a position that I had busted my ass for years to have and suddenly it wasn't enough. I always joke about it being a quarter life crisis, but that's kind of exactly what it is. Where am I going? What am I doing? Eeeeeeeeeek. I suddenly realised how insanely out of touch I was with my own self. I felt my chest fill with a million emotions, each more intense than the one before. Fear. Confusion. Outrage. Bewilderment. Disbelief. Denial. Fury. Panic. Insecure. Anxious. How on earth did this happen? How did I ignore the person that should be the most important to me? And in the middle of a bustling shopping centre, surrounded by strangers and moderately priced goods, I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Fudge cookies. I look like a mess. Even through all these overwhelming feelings, there was something that I could not deny. Awareness. I thought about it for months and then trying my best to work through it, I finally felt at peace with my decision and handed in my resignation to my wonderful boss. She wasn't suprised at all. We agreed that there was something else out there for me and she wished me the absolute best in my search for it. She said you can't stay in a place that you no longer want to be. If only she knew how powerful her words were that day and how they applied to more aspects of my life than just my career. You can't stay in a place that you no longer want to be. So simple. Yet somehow, forgotten. I went home on my last day at work, I sat in my room in silence for an hour, staring at the roof and then I did something I never do. I started to clean. HAHAHAHAHA. I started cleaning the bomb site that is my damn room. It's not even a real room, it's a gigantic pile of short, tight and bright skank uniforms. As I was organising a pile of books on my bookshelf and I came across a small purple pocket book with a label in giant silver capital letters. 'HUSBANDS I HAD AND LIKED' I giggled to myself and thought 'That would make a good notebook, I should use that'. I picked it up off the shelf and I opened it up. Inside was one single diary entry, written by myself on the my 22nd birthday, 3 years ago. It was an entry about how I was supposed to basically be Beyoncé, living in Los Angeles by now and married to a music executive, getting ready for another world tour. I laughed to myself and then continued to read. 21 year old Jai was a hot mess with wild ambitions and terrible handwriting. I sat on my carpet and smiled to myself as I read a list of traits that I had written that I possessed. Three years ago I knew exactly who I was, what I liked, what I didn't like, what made me laugh and what made me cry. The day I turned 22, I was writing a list of reasons why I was going to conquer the world. Now I am 25 and unsure of EVERYTHING, but I am summoning every piece of courage I have and I'm going to do something about it. That fire and determination is exactly what I want to find again, that person that is self assured, self aware and confident in their own skin. And so formed the basis of this blog. I'm going on a journey to rediscover myself, to confront my shortcomings and become that person that I thought I would be. A freaking incredible minx that knew what they wanted and that they were capable of getting it. So the first shade of Jai is 'Brave' because that's exactly what I need to be. Being brave is not to discard fear or to operate with an absence of it, it is to continue on in spite of it. I will instill courage in myself through reflection on my past triumphs. Instead of looking at how far I've got to go, I will look at how far I have already come. So I will share this journey through my blog, the good, the bad and the ugly and hopefully in a year I will look back on this, stronger, wiser and embracing my chosen path. Let's gooooooo! Xx 'Turn up the lights in here baby, extra bright I want y'all to see this.' - 'All of the Lights' by Kanye West featuring Rihanna from the album 'My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy'