Waka Waka

Since I was a wee little one, I’ve always dreamed of travelling to Africa, in particular to see all of the animals. In April, I was lucky enough to make the trip to Johannesburg and Botswana. What I expected was pretty much the set of the Lion King. However, after arriving in a freezing cold Johannesburg I found myself asking “where is a jumper?” rather than “where is Simba hanging out these days?”. Well, for one, I was instantly corrected on my use of the word jumper as the South Africans call it a sweater- lame. They also call traffic lights “robots” and are constantly using the words “ya” and “as well”. For example, if we were to say “she ate all that and a bag of chips”, they would instead say “she ate all that and a bag of chips AS WELL”. The major difference about South Africa in comparison to Australia though is the crime level. I had heard from a reliable source.....ok, it was Cosmo and 60 Minutes but whatever......about the horrific events that happen in people’s everyday lives in Africa including rape, car jacking, shootings, robbery and assaults. From the actual South Africans that I did meet, they only spoke of their experiences with car jacking, robbery and assault, clearly not as bad as what 60 minutes made it out to be (*insert collar pulling here*). It’s quite funny to hear about it all because the South Africans tell the stories like it’s normal because it’s totally normal to shoot some guy in your apartment building because he embarrassed you in a meeting with your neighbours. And it’s normal to be gardening , feel something on your forehead and look up to be greeted by a large black man holding a gun to your head. And it’s normal to stop at the traffic lights, be pulled out of your car at gun point and have to run home in your knickers coz someone stole all your clothes while they were stealing your car. God Bless Australia.


I found it bizarre that electric fences were a necessity around every house, that you couldn’t have your bag on the seat next to you while driving for fear of your car being broken into while you’re in it or worse being shot and that all of the people living in Johannesburg have an emergency escape route in their car in case they are being followed. So apparently it wasn’t out of the ordinary when on my final night in Johannesburg while playing board games, I found myself immersed in darkness and being informed that the house two doors down was being robbed and the thieves had accidentally tripped the wrong wires. It’s a strange feeling when you look outside to see the light of torches shone by security checking for men who could be ready to rob or kill you.

Don’t get me wrong, Johannesburg is culturally so different and such a different experience and that’s essentially what makes it so interesting to visit. Their diets consist of mince meat, dried meat, sausages and sometimes a salad. I put on four kilos while I was over...plus you become a little less regular if you know what I mean. They call a barbeque a “braii” and eat these super long sausages that are cooked in a coil called “boerewores”. I love meat and it seemed the Africans were willing to provide for my every need. Every meal was delicious. I became obsessed with Biltong, which is pretty much beef jerky but more delicious, and dried mango. Neither of them you can really get in Australia without searching hard.

While in Botswana, we stayed at the Chobe Safari Lodge and the food there was no exception. Imagine buffet breakfasts and dinners including impala mince, roast warthog and kudu lasagne along with every other food you could ask for. It was heaven. In the mornings we went on game drives spotting lion paw prints (note that we did not see any actual lions), impala, kudu, warthogs, giraffe, puku, marabou and rare sightings of a jackal and a leopard tortoise. During the day, we cruised along the Chobe river gasping over countless Elephants, hippos, crocodiles, buffalo and fish eagles while sipping on beers and chowing down on biltong. It was so hard to believe that this enormous expanse of water was only there for a portion of the year while for the rest of the time it’s empty enough that the animals can migrate in huge packs to Namibia on the other side of the river. What was also difficult to believe that people could possibly kill such amazing animals. African elephants are endangered yet we saw hundreds of them...imagine just how endangered the lions are if they live in this area and we didn’t even see one of them.

On one of the days, we decided it would be fun to go fishing so off down the river we raced. The native Namibian man took us to the rapids where we quickly drifted down the river. It would have been great if he stopped casting my rod for me (which I can clearly do, although he thought I was incapable) and looked at where we going before we ran into a tree. Not only did I get smacked in the head but I also got covered in spiders, furry caterpillars and stick insects. As a female, I am terrified of bugs. Usually I’m fine with spiders if they’re on a wall but not when they’re crawling over me. As it was my fourth day in Botswana, I had become accustomed to large spiders running around, swarms of dragon flies in the air at all times and bugs snuggling into my shoes so at this stage I wasn’t too fussed when I was covered in them. I merely swatted them off and went back to fishing. Probably should have done a better job because when we returned to shore, I had no fish to show everyone, just an enormous spider bite on my back. I still have the scar four weeks later. Delightful.

Famous last words? We are all Africa....no Shakira, I think you'll find that is politically incorrect and racially offensive.


Yes this video isn't very interesting but it's all the animals I saw :)

Banging kok.

So in February I went to Thailand with four other girls and it's taken me this long to edit and upload just the Bangkok video. So please apprectiate it. I put my heart and soul into this video...I'm seriously challenged at editing. Koh Samui and Koh Phanang coming soon....

Don't lend people money...it gives them amnesia

When I was a little boy (laugh at my feeble attempt to be funny...please), I really liked to share. For example, whenever I came home from a friend’s birthday party, I would always give my family as many lollies as they liked from my goody bag even though I would have happily eaten every last set of fake teeth on my own. I also didn’t mind lending my things to people...except Barbie clothes, you never got that shit back. As I have grown, I have continued to be generous but sometimes there are occasions on which you don’t want to lend something to somebody or you don’t want it back after what they’ve done to it.


Number 1 dilemma: When the girl who asks to borrow an item of your clothing is a ho fo' sho.

In this situation, a particularly skanky girl wants to borrow a dress or a top and you genuinely don’t want to give it to her because it will be returned unwashed covered in makeup, alcohol or bodily fluids. I’ve never understood why people would ever borrow something and think it’s ok to give it back in a worse condition than you received it in when someone was generous enough to let you borrow it. Equally, I hate it when a friend says to you “You’ll never believe what happened last night! I finally hooked up with that guy I like and just left his house ;)”. All fine and dandy until you have that horrible realisation that she was wearing that dress you lent her. That’s when you send a text back saying “Congrats on the sex. You can keep that dress you borrowed”, and pretend like you were going to get rid of that brand new dress anyway. Equally as annoying is when they just never give you back your stuff so you end up looking like a dick because you keep pestering them about it. Come to think of it, lesbians are quite lucky because they get two wardrobes when they move in together. Jealous.

Number 2 dilemma: When a chewer borrows your pen.

Oh to the em to the gee. I do not understand people who borrow your pen and chew the shit out of it. Get some freaking gum! You have a problem! It is not ok to use someone’s pen and chew on it as if it were your own. I have donated so many pens to people because I just don’t want it back after the absolute raping they’ve given it. I also can’t stand it when they just take possession of your stationary after using it because you’ve too lazy to label your items. Similarly when a person has forgotten their text book and asks if they can look on with you but somehow end up hogging the book and writing their own notes in it and take it home with them. I’m always too polite to say “oh that is actually my book, may I please have it back” and I just end up losing it.

Number 3 dilemma: Buying a round for someone who avoids buying rounds for the whole night

You know that one stingy bastard who is keen to get in on the rounds of shots until it’s time for them to shout everyone and they just feel like water? Or they’ve had too much to drink and need a break? I’m sorry, but when you agree to get in on a round of drinks, you automatically agree to buying another round at some point in the night. There should be a written agreement people have to sign at the first round of drinks, just like that sexual consent form they were trying to bring in....but that was kind of a mood kill so they decided against it. Join me in the fight against tight arse drunks.

Masonette

Just thought I'd post these pics from a recent shoot with designer Jo Mason (absolute sweetheart) from Masonette, Canix Jewellery and stylist Bianca Roccisano, who is awesome to work with since she talks almost as much as me. I love these designs and the theme of the shoot. The photos will appear in the next issue of Fashion Journal and an upcoming issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. The photographer was 18 year old Jacinta Rosewarne who has only got her first camera four months ago. Watch her. She is amazing. The other model is Laura Jane, such a stunning face!

It's friday, I'm in love

What the shit? So I found this song originally on itunes and thought maybe it was a joke but it's legit. I honestly think it's the worst song of all time but with a cringe worthy video to match. I particularly like how these 13 year olds are driving a car and heading to a party where all their mates cars are parked. Since when did America lower the legal driving age from 16 to 13? Her makeup also makes her look like a baby prostitute. Best lyrics in the song are clearly: "Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday, we're so excited ... we gonna have a ball today, tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday comes afterwards. I don't want this weekend to end." Also, who is the black flo rida/ Usher wanna be that randomly starts rapping in the middle of the song? 10 points for street cred Rebecca! Another highlight of the song is when she's choosing whether to sit in the front seat or the back seat- ooh such choices! How can a girl choose?!
It's so dandy when the number 1 topic on Twitter is Rebecca Black over the Japan disasters. Thanks to Ark Music Factory there are multiple songs by children with delusional parents just like this one to keep you entertained.

Indie lord

Future 2011...shit day. Admittedly I just wanted to go to see Ke$ha because I think she needs a bath and I heard she blows glitter from her vagina BUT I didn’t think the experience of this music festival could be that bad. I’m not really that big a music festival fan, due to the fact that I’m not indie enough and I’m pretty much the only one not on drugs yet I highly enjoyed Good Vibes last year. I only went so I could see the Killers and it was well worth it because they were amazing. Literally one of the best moments of my entire LIFE was being on my friend’s shoulders during “All these things that I’ve done”. I was expecting something similar at Future music festival this year but I was so wrong.

The day started with amazing weather and a delightful lemon lime bitters and vodka slurpee. I had been offered a job working behind the scenes at the festival by my friend Olivia but since I’d already bought my $140 ticket, I decided to pass on that. I travelled into Flemington with Olivia and my other friends Sage and Alice as they prepared themselves to work in funky burlesque outfits all day. The train ride in itself was eventful considering an intoxicated young male vomited just behind us. It looked like he swallowed a sausage whole, the chunks were enormous. Sage described them as being similar in texture to apple pie. We also watched out the window as the clouds became more and more ominous.

Just as we pulled into Flemington Racecourse station, the heavens opened and sent everyone running. Some geniuses had those funky plastic ponchos but I literally had nothing to protect me. I tried to steal some guys hat by batting my eyelashes and smiling sweetly but it turned out to be his friend’s so that was an immediate fail. Problem number two was that I had my friend Brianna’s ticket and we were supposed to be hanging out that day plus we had no phone reception! We somehow spoke to each other for a few small conversations where neither of us understood each other but I managed to catch onto the fact that she was on the other side of the festival. Joy. Sheer joy.

After waiting in a line for a good 45 minutes with these randoms who decided to drunkenly befriend me, I got in and needed to pee. The lines for these feral public toilets were 15 minutes long so I decided to get everyone excited to pee. We had chants going to encourage people to “pee hard or pee home”. High fives were also exchanged as people exited the cubicles. Excellent morale. After I had peed, shit got real. I had to find Brianna.

Her texts went like this:
“like at the end of the main stage on the footpath”
“Emily I haven’t moved where r u??? I’m looking at the main stage but far back in the centre, about 50m up from a ride”

“The “no booze no bags” sign is 50m in front of me”

Needless to say, it was pretty difficult to locate her plus I was a little distraught because it was midway through Ke$ha!!! After searching for a good 15 minutes, Brianna and I are united with her screaming at the top of her lungs. We then made a futile attempt to get to the front. We got about ten metres into the crowd and gave up. I could see Ke$ha’s squat thrusts and blue lipstick from 100m away but no glitter vagina. Depressing. After this, we needed sustenance.

The question was: food or alcohol? We had to wait in a half hour que for each of them. We decided upon food. Food was amazing, being drenched...not so amazing. I was so not drunk enough for that shit.

After wandering around for about an hour, asking ourselves where all these derros came from, we decided it would be safe to watch “The Presets” because we figured we’d know a few songs. Wrong. We knew about two. Epic fail. It was also while watching The Presets that a bottle of wee was thrown in our direction. I replay the event in slow motion as boys began to run out of the way while another hurled a clear bottle containing a yellow liquid into the crowd. Brianna and I ducked out of the way just in time to see the girl next to us get smacked in the face by a large splash of pee. If there was ever a time for anti-bacterial gel, it was at that moment. Either way, that ended it for us. It was time to go so we walked our sorry dripping arses back home.

I’m starting to think maybe I’m a massive loser.

Ranga Racism

Roses are red, so is your head, I wish you were dead.


I’m a ranga. A red head, a ginger, carrot top, ginga ninja, fire crotch, pumpkin pubes...ok too far blue car. But yes, as of a week ago, I have joined the small minority of the population that has red hair. For a colouring competition, my good friend Shakira from Zucci hair salon dyed my hair red and cut me a fringe. Before this, I had virgin hair and my baby Jesus liked it. As you can imagine, I was absolutely pooing myself leading up to dying it, envisioning myself looking like orphan Annie. Once it was done though, I didn’t hate it, I kind of liked it. Could this be possible? I have been asked before if my hair was naturally red and if I had dyed it brown because I have freckles. Also, my brother has a ranga face. “What does that mean?” I hear you ask? It means people when they first meet him don’t notice that he has blonde hair but remember him and a ranga due to his slightly red and freckly face.

I’ve decided red heads are practically a race of their own. Everyone is super racist towards red heads! I got my first taunt when walking to the bus stop on the way to uni. Now, on previous days, a car full of builders always drives past at the same time and they all yell out something obscene. But this Monday was different. As I innocently walked down the street, probably listening to Taylor Swift, I looked up when I heard the word “RANGA!!!!” being screamed. It was the car full of builders shouting abuse at me! Only 3 days before they were singing a different tune but there it was, ranga racism. Whatever, if it means I could play Ginny in a Harry Potter film and marry Harry then it is worth it.

I told my beautiful ginger friend Jess about this incident and she said “do you see what I have to deal with??”. It’s tough having red hair! For some reason I have the idea in my head that there’s a high number of suicides from people with red hair and I can see why. Only 1-2% of the population has red hair, isn’t that insane?? I just found this on Wikipedia: “Cultural reactions have varied from ridicule to admiration; many common stereotypes exist regarding redheads and they are often portrayed as fiery-tempered.” Fiery tempered ey? I have already been described as that by someone who claims it’s just because I have red hair now. As I am Scottish, maybe I should have red hair as Scotland has the highest population of carrot tops. My mum continued the discrimination last night as she turned to me in the car saying “What are you going to do about your hair? I don’t love it.” Thanks mims.

I swear to God, as I write this blog, a creepy ginger baby is giving me the evil eye at work. I just took a sneaky photo of it. Win.

 

As a ginga ninja, I come in peace