2016… Plans.

New Years Resolutions. Hate them. To me, it’s a perfect way to set completely unrealistic expectations and make you feel like the biggest failure when you inevitably, don’t achieve everything.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. But I DO set goals for myself for the year. Random things that I want to achieve for the year ahead.

Last year, I wanted to;

  • Laugh more (totally achievable with my boyfriend)
  • Explore Sydney
  • Be Brave (took on a massive new job that I didn’t think I could do)
  • Separate work and home (I didn’t pull this off all the time, BUT, I was better than the year before… progress.)
  • Save $50 a week (EPIC FAIL – I live in SYDNEY)
  • Eat green veggies every day (OK – 5 out of 7.)

I had a year of ups and downs… and didn’t achieve everything I set out to, particularly my fitness goals… but in the grand scheme of the year, upon reflection, I did pretty OK… So I’m happy.

I really want to set some different intentions for this year; set really specific goals, master them, and tick them off my list.

  • Learn to make decent rice paper rolls. (Every time I go out to get them, the salad is soggy and shitty, there’s nowhere near enough prawn filling and dipping sauce.)
  • Pick 20 books from the Amazon.com 100 books to read in a lifetime list and read them. (http://www.amazon.com/b?node=8192263011)
  • Start training regularly. (And start with 3 days for 40 minutes. This isn’t hard for me… I just have to pull my head out of my ass and be uncomfortable for a month.)
  • Cut down my caffeine intake. The only time I drink water is when it’s boiling hot with a shot or two of coffee in it. My adrenal glands are crying tears laced with coffee. Time to stop.
  • The same goes for my wine intake. I don’t drink to get drunk, I drink because I LOVE the taste of wine… BUT, I need to love the taste of wine a little less frequently.
  • Take more photos and display them around the house.
  • Write more. I want to commit to one blog a fortnight, so 26 for next year!
  • Get away for weekends a little more with the boyfriend.

What are you all planning to do this year? I’d love to hear…

Stay tuned, I’m about to compile my book list for 2016…


What I think about when I can’t sleep

I’m sure some of you can relate.IMG_4465

This, for me, is most of the time. I’ve tried everything. Lavender everything, hot showers before bed, wine before bed, Sleepy time tea, Horlicks, training before bed, yoga and meditation, cold showers before bed, herbal sleeping tablets, no wine before bed, watching TV, all electrical devices out of my room, Diazepam (a really mild, prescribed sleeping aid), no training before bed time. NOTHING WORKS.

Well, maybe the Diazepam did briefly.

I have just come to the conclusion that I am among the ranks of Australia’s great over-thinkers and under-sleepers. I have been this way since my early 20s and I don’t see it changing any time soon.

My mother is the same. She’s of the opinion that she just has a few bad nights and eventually she’s so tired that she just has a massive sleep and she’s all better again. I don’t like her thinking. My job involves conversing with people and talking them into buying stuff they don’t need – I need to be ON. ALL. THE. TIME. And my mother has staying power that’s utterly enviable.

It’s a result of many sleepless nights that I turned to coffee. For comfort. Warmth. Understanding. Humaning. Doing the ‘standy-uppy’ thing.

Is my insomnia the reason I drink so much coffee? Or is my coffee drinking the reason I have insomnia-like tendencies? Who knows.

But… Back to the story at hand.

So, what goes through my head on a nightly basis?

Here is an example from the last month of no sleepy time thoughts…

“I wonder is the Fast and the Furious franchise was planned out that way all along, or after the balls up of Tokyo Drift, writers and directors chose to up the ante to redeem themselves”
“Where in the house can I put my dying Fiddle Leaf Fig and possibly save it?”
“If I fall asleep in the next five minutes I can get exactly three and a half hours sleep before I have to get ready for work”
“No, you don’t need to pee, you’re just bored…”
“OK, you can’t bitch out on going to the gym tomorrow… your bag is packed, food is prepped and gym gear is out. Get. The. Fuck. Up. (Yeah, nine times out of 10, I stayed in bed)
“I wonder if I could make a career out of floristry…”
“Should I buy the snakeskin-print jumpsuit from work?” (I didn’t. When a blonde Amazonia Goddess you work with tries it on, rocks it like Beyonce rocks sequins, and buys it, yield.)
“I’m hungry”.
“I really shouldn’t drink coffee after midday”.
“Shit. Did I empty the washing machine?”
“Wait up. Haven’t seen Kaley Cuoco post pics of her husband on Instagram in a while… why?” (Yeah… sadly not together anymore. And for the record, my boyfriend knew that before I did.)
“Is it time to get up yet?”
And on and on it goes. I can’t remember half the things I think about because I’m too tired to remember or write them down, but you catch my drift.

Anyone feel me?

A day with my beloved…

Introducing Matty.    IMG_4318

My one and only. My great love. My best mate. My rock. My anchor. My missing piece.

I will tell you more about my beloved Matty later down the track but for the moment, suffice to say, I dig this kid with every fibre of my being.

We both work ridiculous rosters and as a result, our time together is limited, so it’s treated like a precious jewel. Sometimes, the best we can manage is a gym session, breakfast and nap.  Other times, all we can manage is the chores around the house and not killing each other.

Last weekend, we managed to get a day at the beach, complete with picnic, which is something we haven’t been able to do for MONTHS. We were able to explore, lay in the sun, swim in the ARCTIC water and best of all, simply, just be together.

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This place that we visit is only a 10 minute walk from our house. We walk down possibly, the longest and steepest staircase to get there (feels longer after leg day) but the results are worth it.

We walk down a pretty little shaded bush path to get to this hidden away little beach. There’s a massive field of manicured grass and weeping willow trees ripe for picnics and touch football games and puppy playing.


The beach itself, is little. It’s basically a little sand spit on a channel going back out to sea, so the water is FREEZING and the currents are fairly strong, but the water is also fairly shallow. It’s perfect for paddle boarding and floating in rings…

There’s awesome bushland and rocky outcrops surrounding the water which is awesome for sun baking away from people and relaxing…

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The day could not have been more perfect. Especially when you finish the day with wine and Mexican on the balcony of our unit at sunset.

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All the photos were taken on my phone and edited using ‘afterlight’.

Let me introduce myself…

My name is Carly. I’m 30 something. I just a regular Australian girl. When I say that, I don’t mean it in the cliched, naff, lame way; I’m down to earth, yes, but what I was more alluding to is the notion that I am somewhat of a nobody. I’m not famous, I’m not a socialite, I don’t even have a big social circle. I’m such a regular Jane Bloggs that if you fell over me in the street, you’d forget me after an hour.IMG_1359

I’m OK with this situation. I’m not offended. At all. I just figure I’m one of many that are like this.

This all being said, despite my ‘nobody’ status, I’ve seen, done and been involved in some truly hilarious, strange, and interesting situations that are worth sharing. This will be my platform.

But firstly, let me tell you about myself.

I’m a daughter to an amazing mum and dad. They back me up, look after me when I need it, and have a hell of a lot of fun in the process. The Mothership is a quiet, fierce and incredibly caring and compassionate mumma lion that takes no shit and has one of the funniest senses of humour. I think she does anyway. She’ll tell you she’s “fucking hilarious”. She’s been the first one to drive hours to be by my side when shit has truly hit the fan, and was the one that swept in and took action when I was really ill and needed a lot of help that I wouldn’t get for myself. She’s a fucking legend.

The Papa Bear is a Mister Fix-It who gives an incredible pep talk. He’s the first to teach my new things, like how to use a circular saw and cordless drill, or how to change my car tyres, or why my car is making that funny whiney noise again. (FYI – it’s probably the fan belt.) Like the mothership, he’s protective and isn’t afraid to show it.

I’m a sister to a boisterous and hilarious boy that seems placid, but secretly, looks after his older sibling. We look identical, just three years apart in age. We have both gotten along and fought like cats and dogs. We have exactly the same sense of humour and always tend to annoy the mother unit with our noise, and tendency to quote lame movies non-stop at the dinner table.


I’m a girlfriend to an amazing man. He loves me in spite of my innumerable and, at times, irritating flaws. He’s seen me at absolute rock bottom; the only person to see me so low and still tell me in no uncertain terms that he still thinks the sun shines out of my ass. He’s caring, thoughtful, encouraging and respectful of my needs. We met at work – we’re both fitness trainers. We have share interests. We have separate interests. We laugh together. And he’s cute to boot. He is my jackpot lottery, Christmas and pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, all rolled into one.

I myself, am many things. Journalism student. Fitness Instructor. Retail Manager. Avid book collector. Believer in the healing power of crystals. Coffee addict. Observer of life. Creator of stuff. Flower sniffer. Purveyor of red wine and gin. Anxiety and depression sufferer. Ivory tinkler. Like finding the funny and metaphoric life lesson. Quietly spoken unless I’m excessively passionate. Constantly searching for something that lights my fire.

So if you want to listen to my mundane ramblings… stay tuned.