Sarah Morgan

That word, say it clear now T.A.F.E. Tafe.

2012-02-01T18:37:00.000+10:00

Starting TAFE was a bit of a joke at first. You see, I didn't want work. Well...I didn't want to do much of anything actually. I was quite happy hanging out in my room denouncing the world and writing suicide letters to every person that I'd ever met.

'Dear Mr Bus Driver, I'm sorry that I left in this way, I can asure you it was none of your fault. I just don't think I was made for living...'

The letters went on and on, I once made my closest friends J and A, sit through me reading them all (What makes someone do that? What made them listen?) I know I felt deeply suicidally back in those days, but I don't really think I was that much of a risk. I think I just wanted life to stop for a bit so I could find my bearings, which is really an acceptable feeling, I just took it to the dramatic extreme that I take most things.

I suppose the letters where also a way of channeling my Cousin Daniels Death, and resolving the fact that it truly was no bodies fault, because at that point I'd spent a year and a half allowing my life force to die in honor of his life.

So I was quite happy doing nothing at this point, but I was living at home and my Mother was at her wits end about it all. I could either work, study or leave. So I choose a Visual Art TAFE certificate. My plan was to keep my head down and interact with people as little as possible. (I don't know where I got it, but I've always considered being a hermit as this noble practice. Perhaps it's because I'm so impossibly social. I don't even mean to be, but get me in a crowd and I'll be loud, and charming and trying to make everyone laugh. While scolding myself on the inside about not talking to anyone and trying to seem mysterious. I'll never seem aloof and mysterious, it's not for me to be.)

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I turned up to TAFE a week late. Me and another guy who reminded me of a friend in Sydney that I admired. Pretty much straight away the girl who'd been rejected by everyone else that week ( I could tell because of her over enthusiasm for the new kids. You don't move schools every two years without learning to spot them really fast) pounced on this new Guy. I stepped away from this interaction as fast as possible, I didn't know him, I didn't owe him anything and I didn't want friends. Especially the annoying kind.

After stepping away I looked around at the other people in the class. The one that caught my immediate attention was a lady smiling ear to ear while supporting a thick five o'clock shadow. I thought to myself, how can she possibly be so happy when nature had obviously been so cruel? I would later learn that she was from some arabic country (I know how vague this sounds but I can't remember the country she told me) and her parents had arranged her to marry some hot guy. (I never met the guy, so I can't comment on how hot he actually was, or wasn't) The both of them were apparently swingers - after finding out this tid bit I decided to decline any future BBQ offers incase they got frisky with me (because, yes, obviously I am the biggest target when it comes to swingers, they all want me, and it's a huge problem in my life.) In reality, even if I didn't know the whole swingers thing I would of declined, I wasn't really up for socialisation anyway, but on the off chance I felt socia,l I definitely didn't want this cheerful bearded lady and her hot spose pawing all over my secret virginal goods.

Secret as in - I'd been maintaining a lie about losing my virginity under a bush at thirteen since I was about fifteen. (The story originated from me seeing a black condom under a bush at thirteen...so it wasn't all a lie, SOMEONE had definitely had sex under a bush when I was thirteen.) I'm not even sure why I started the lie, but it was when I moved from Sydney to Brisbane, and everyone was talking about sex, and I really wanted to be that girl from Sydney who had sex that one time under a bush...You know, because I'm classy and shit.

Eventually someone totally called me out on being a virgin and it all came out (four years later) and I dramatically told people who thought I wasn't virgin, that I was indeed an actual real life virgin, and it all wasn't that big a deal in the end, but those stories come later. I just felt like sharing. You know, I'd love to continue this story into the now - over the next few weeks, but you know me, I'm just as likely not to do that.

Last year.

2012-01-17T14:46:00.000+10:00

Last year was one of the worst years of my life. Which is sad, because I met a truly wonderful man and met some incredible people. As usual, I've destroyed my body in uncontrolled emotional binges. But last year is over. Last year a friend tried his best to help me lose weight, and I wasted his time. I feel really bad about it. I hope i haven't burnt bridges with him, but I'm sure I haven't. This year is well on it's way and I've got two choices - continue with the self pity, or try my best to snap out of it. I'm not going to do what I usually do. I'm not going to make wild goals and promises that I freak out and back out of. I've signed up to the 1 million kilo challenge, because it sounds like a good kick start. This year i want to get fit, I want to get healthy. It's probably going to take me the next 2 years. But that's ok, I've go two years left of study. These next years are the path to somewhere else. Somewhere I know I want to be.

Holy crap!

2012-01-11T00:25:00.000+10:00

I just enrolled into the last year of my degree...I sure know how to drag things out.
In ten or so months- this degree will be finished.
I'm a little afraid of this year. If I don't turn up to lectures and tuts, I'll fail. Im so use to the tramatic last two weeks of uni, I absolutly cant allow myself to do that this year. I can do this, right?
James is doing a law degree, has no social life and is kicking ass at life...I just need to try and be more James like this year.
Im so excited about how much reading/ writing I'll be doing this year...who knows, I might learn gramma and spelling!
Have I mentioned I got a kitten? I can't post a photo because my laptop died and I'm writing this on my phone. (that's right, winning at life.)
The kitten is currently having a sleep over a few doors down because the eleven year old who lives there loves it and isn't allowed a cat. I'm totally regretting that decision. I'm not sure the lending of pets is a good pet owner trait.
However Frankie seems to love having the apartment to herself.
What am I talking about? See what happens when you can't see what you're writing and you start rambling?? Jesus.

New years resolutions - in no particular order.

2012-01-02T01:00:00.000+10:00

1. Finish my degree.
2. Get my bike off lay-by
3. Ride said bike till body transforms into a sexy goddess body.
4. Get this damn psycho inducing bar out of my arm.
5. Get new job.
6. Apply for graduate teaching diploma.
7. Move out of the junkies & dealers nest.
8. Move into a place with a backyard.
9. Make a proper garden.
10. Get an out door setting for BBQ's.
11. Stop neglecting friends because I feel my putting on weight has let them down.
12. Realise my weight is no ones concern but my own.
13. Clean room and put clothes away instead of leaving them in the washing baskets, before then digging around in basket till clothes cover floor. (didn't work for me when I was single, and is a whole lot less working now two floordrobes compete with each other.)
14. Find my inner OCD clean freak.
15. Destroy my inner OCD need to sit and read this book I haven't seen in ages instead of tidy annoyance.
16. Try not to get anymore cats.
17. Try and write things for stand up again.
18. Try not to be to hard on myself, or Frank.
19. Become Zoey Deschannel.
20. Be more interesting, in a blog kind of way.
21. Be more interesting, in a life kind of way.
22. Eat way more vegetables.
23. Drink way more water.
24. Finish all burnings started in 2011 (including coffee table damn it!)
25. Visit Sydney.
26. Give away/ sell all burnings that I finish.
27. Turn 27 without wincing.

2011

2011-12-31T20:04:00.002+10:00

It ends as began, I'm at work, always at work. It not so bad I guess, it's fairly dead, it's just I'm missing my boyfriend extremely muchly. This year both sucked and was awesome.
I spent most of the year feeling like I had been kicked in the guts and winded, crying and morning some friendships that ended at the begining of the year. And when I wasn't feeling that way, I managed to finished my first year of education unassisted by friends, while it was harder and I did feel lonely a lot, I feel like I tapped into a part of myself I hadn't recognized before. I was so used to having my hands held I forgot I could balance fine on my own.
I also met my match. I'm really in love, and it feels wonderful.
I've also become friends with some wonderful people throughout the year.
We got a new kitten, and today Frankie the cat shared her food with him istead of hissing and swiping.
I guess there is so much more that happened this year, overall I think this year made me grow so much and I now feel ready to be 27...ok, maybe not. Jesus, where are the years going?

Bunnings rocks!

2011-10-11T19:59:00.005+10:00

A few days ago a friend of mine uploaded photo's of a fancy vegetable garden he had made himself. It made me jealous times a million. I wanted a garden. While it's true I wanted a magical garden that had heaps of yummy fruits and vegtables, the odd fairy/ elf and minimal maintenance - I've realised this dream will have to wait till I have a house that actually has fairies living down the back...instead of a swamp - liv'n the dream.
Any-who, today I went to bunnings and bought seedlings (two types of tomato, capsicum, a variety of herbs, a variety of chilli, aloe vera and zucchini), hanging pots, a rectangle pot and way to many bag's of potting mix (who knew 75kg of potting mix would be excessive?).

My garden:

While planting everything, I started thinking about the time I organised to move out of home with one of my friend's when we were 13. We were going to squat in an abandoned house - She told me there was a law that meant we were allowed to. We were going to use candles instead of electricity. Use the showers at school, and grow all our food from window box planters. It was going to be AWESOME!! I don't know why we didn't end up doing it?
Pretty much as I was planting, I started going into a dream world state of - MAYBE I COULD LIVE OFF HANGING VEGETABLES!! I'm going to need so many more hanging pots, and much bigger deck.

Tell 'em their dreaming.

2011-09-15T18:50:00.003+10:00

I had a really strange dream about my cousin Daniel last night. I dreamt that he was a baby and that we were all sitting around holding him. He was laughing, and gurgling and being all cute and baby like, then I left the room to do something. On my return he was dead.
Everyone was shouting and trying to work out what had happened, the person who was holding him when he died was gone and we didn't know who it was and couldn't find them. A few of us thought they had suffocated him, there was a doctor there who told us his actual cause of death was a fever. At this point I went over to my Aunty Molly who was holding him and moved the blanket that was covering his legs and just held his feet. They were warm and soft - He just didn't feel dead at all. He wasn't breathing though and his face was blue, but his feet were so warm and soft, like a real babies.
Slowly we all started to accept that he died of a fever, it was horrible, we all just sat there looking at him, not talking, not knowing, just horrified.

When I woke up I though, "Fuck that was a weird dream". Then I really started to think about it. There has been a lot of talk about suicide lately, it's the end game of Depression. Not everyone get's the final symptom, some people beat it. I think maybe the dream was me trying to come to terms with the fact that Daniel died of a disease, a fever if you will.

I think sometimes I get angry at him for being selfish and leaving us, but it wasn't really a decision he made to hurt anyone, it was just the last stage of his terminal depression. I really hope that people reaching out to each other does help. I hope that depression and suicide isn't something that will continue regardless of help given or sought.

2011-09-08T18:06:00.000+10:00

This is me and the boy I love the most in the whole wide world.

Frank. <3

Everyday I'm settling.

2011-07-28T09:50:00.005+10:00

You know how a few posts back, I wrote a huge post about how I wanted to get an awesome and groovy bike? Well, I don't know if you already know this, but I'm a student.
My Tax refund wasn't as mighty and lucrative as I had been imagining, so I was plan B on the bike front. Plan B was : Use my old bike which is currently staying at my mums house. It's not an aggressively horrible bike or anything, it's just got brake issues. As in, it doesn't like to not be in full brake mode.

Frank worked out, that if you twist the brake lead a bit, it loosens up. It's not really working fully yet, but I'm sure Frank and his brother will get around to fixing it somewhere between alcohol and soccer.
Since I couldn't afford a new bike, I got a new helmet, which was pretty much a necessity due to the fact I no longer had a bike helmet.
I bought a completely cute, and insanely dorky light blue one.

I heart it, and can't wait to take it out on the town.

Now to get Frank, to buy a bike as well...wish me luck.

Above the shoulders.

2011-07-24T12:39:00.008+10:00

Is feeling much better, well, up until yesterday. I hit a rough patch last night. I'm actually thinking it might be diet based. I had some lollies, then then maybe three hours later I felt like complete shit. I was crying, I didn't want to leave the house and hang out with F and his brother. I felt tired, depressed, even a little suicidal.
A friend had posted some lovely momento's of our friendship on my facebook wall and I burst into tears. I started thinking about how I have all the help in the world, all the friends in the world, I have everything you could ever need or want, yet I get stuck doing the same old shit. I withdraw and lose myself in spirals of self-hate. I started thinking that maybe I just wasn't meant to be alive. I just can't get a break. All this repetitive stuff that isn't true. It's true that I feel that way with every inch of my being, but it's not real. It's like i have all these clouds around me stopping me from gaining correct perception.
I'm such an emotional person and if how I feel and what's going on aren't adding up my world fucks up faster then you can say Johnny Cash.
Below my shoulders is 100% pain. It kind of feels good though, as masochistic as that sounds. This pain is a small sign that I am winning some battles. I'm so far away from winning the war, and there is constant nuclear threat, but at least I'm winning some small battles. One step at a time, as they say.
I've been in pain since wednesday morning. It's all ready improving, or I'm getting use to it. The funny thing is, during work-outs, muscle pain and stiffness completely disappear. Other then the burn from the actual exercise, which is another kind of pain, preferable even.
On Friday I had my first training session with Alex from Sweat Fitness. He is an amazing trainer. He's militant in the way that he wants you to do things correctly and will push you to succeed, but he's also compassionate, and he is very encouraging, he makes you feel like you can do it before you start. Which is half the challenge. You can actually do all the stuff you need to do to lose weight, you just need to believe it.
I went to the session sore as shit. I wanted to ask Alex to go easy on my legs because I was experiencing enormous amounts of pain in that area. But then I figured he'd probably just think I was a big puss-bag, plus it's not a very grateful move to be extra demanding on top of the fact he's all ready giving me so much. Also, he's a trained PT, he would be able to tell what I can and can't do. So I just handed my trust over instead. I even ended up doing these super low squats...I wouldn't have thought I could do that at all, even with out muscle pain, but I did.
After working various muscle groups till I felt like jelly. Alex left me to warm down by doing 2km on the rower.
By 5mins I thought to myself, "Fuck this, I'm only going to do 10, this is fucked."
But at 10mins I was at 1430, I had less then 600m to go. Something in me nailed down, I just ~~wanted~~ needed to finish the whole 2km. I felt so good after that.
I wish I could say I left the gym with a proud swagger, but it was more a retarded stagger.
The big thing I learnt on Friday was, if you focus on the task-somehow it blocks the pain. I reached this place in my last set of squats where it just all felt easy, and I could do anything, then with about 3 squats to go that focus was lost and I thought I was going to die. I'm going to try and get there again, though, then sustain it.

Yesterday was half cheat day. I'm not sure if I will be having lollies on my next cheat day, I didn't realise how lethargic and depressed they'd make me feel...maybe I should go to the doctors and get my suger levels tested. I live in constant fear of type 2 diabetes, yet I am an over-weight lolly addict...go figure.
I also went to Zumba at Hendra Healthworks...which has an entrance like a gated community, and the feel of a country club. Oh god it was intimidating. Only I didn't realise it was going to get worse. I was half an hour early, so I hopped on the bike for a bit, then I headed to the class. I was the first one in there, it seemed ok, too many mirror's around the place, but you come to expect that kind of thing at a gym. Then one by one, perfect bouncy women filled in. Clone barbie doll extraordinaires, with designer gym wear and shoes for dancing...not cheap ass target runners. They were all smily and friendly though, so other then my stark bodily differences, it was still going kind of ok. Then the music started and they all started dancing fast and perfectly along with the instructor, while I shuffled and shaked un-rhythmically to the music trying to replicate what they were doing, but failing miserably. Then we had to do this step to the side then shake our hips thing. When I stepped to the side I got to watch myself do the shake my hips thing in a large unforgiving mirror.
If you are over-weight, doing the shake your hips thing in front of a large mirror in a room full of perfectly formed, non-rhythmically challenged ladies, while your fat keeps to the beat of the music better then your flailing limbs, leads woe-is-me crying on the trip home.
Zumba was like the primary school discos I had to attend, while dressed in clothes my Mum had excitedly bought when I was born - which was in the MID EIGHTIES!!
Yes! - it was as bad as wearing fluro pink, and blue stripped, puffy sleeved dresses and having to chase after your friends all night because no one wanted to stand next to you while they wore their cool mambo shirts and billabong boardies.
I give Zumba multiple thumbs down, and hope I never have to see it's vengeful face again.

I seem to have a split personality.

2011-07-21T10:58:00.001+10:00

I’m split between, wanting to watch T.V with my boyfriend and going to the gym.

I’m split between sleeping in a nice warm bed or going to the gym.

So far so good - I haven’t let my lazy bones win, that’s what I will call that voice that tries to tell me that I have done enough for the week and it’s time to rest. “Oh shut up, Lazy Bones, no body want’s to listen to your lazy ass rants.

Day two of my gym membership and I’ve been to three classes. Spin, Pump, and Body attack. I already mentioned Spin in yesterdays post so let’s not visit it again.

Yesterday I spent all day trying to work out a big enough excuse to not to pump. I have a bit of a head cold at the moment, so that was the main thing I was focusing on. I nearly fell for my excuses a few times too.

I don’t get what my head is doing. I want to lose weight. I want to stop being this sad person who treats herself badly, who feels worthless and think’s that life just isn’t that great.

I want to be fun and energetic…you know, like I kind of am already - but without the going home and sobbing in my room part.

I am lucky I have a supportive boyfriend, who is being way more supportive then I gave him credit for at the start. Yesterday I told him that I am thinking about not going to Pump because I did Spin and that was pretty good.

He just said, “But then you will feel like you’ve cheated yourself. Just go to pump, you know you will feel 100 times better after, not just physically - emotionally as well.”

He was right, I could hardly walk up the steps to the house, but I felt so high - like I could conquer the world. Two classes in one day - on my first day! Seriously - I can do anything. It’s all in the mind set.

This morning I had a meeting at 6am with a trainer at my gym to work out a training program. Oh my god, you have no idea what kind of tantrum my mind was had as the alarm went off at 5am. “Fuck the gym, I’m already sick of it.” WTF? I’m seriously not, I’m just not good when I have a stuffy nose and it’s cold outside. Though I’m not good when it’s hot either.

I got up anyway though…after pressing snooze a couple of times…I had purposefully set the alarm half an hour before I had to wake up because I knew I would be having a morning tantrum - and sometimes I take a bit to talk around.

The trainer was lovely, I explained that I was on an eating plan and that I wanted to lose 40kg in 6months. He asked about the meal plan and what supplements I was on - He told me that it was exactly the kind of thing he’d have put me on - so he was happy with that. He then wrote me up and cardio intensive - muscle endurance work out. Which is awesome because due to work I can’t get to classes on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I can even use the group room so that I don’t have to be self conscience about people watching me. I love this gym.

I then went home and tried to talk myself out of going to the 9am Body Attack class…it really is tiresome…Will I ever just accept this, or am I seriously going to have to fight myself everyday for the rest of my life?

I went…HOLY FUCK!! I thought I swore my head off in Pump. Pump has nothing on Body Attack…I’m not even sure there is any moisture left in my body - that’s how much I sweated. The whole time I was like, “When will this end!”, in-between running forward, then to the side, then lifting my legs, then running forward, then jumping jack backwards and so on and so forth.

It’s high pace, high energy, but you know what. I felt so good at the end. I even made a friend. She spotted the other newbie (me) and came over and we kept giving each other exhausted looks. We are going to do the class together every week…Also I think she’s a customer at my work.

So yeah, still fighting myself every second of the day to make the good choices. “No you don’t need the chocolate, you have another meal in like 30 minutes.”

“Fine,” Lazy Bones sulks.

The eating plan Alex wrote for me is awesome, it’s 7 meals over the day. Pretty much as my resolve for not going out and eating some chocolate weakens - a meal gets closer and brings me back to earth.

I feel so much better already, I feel pumped and ready to be the best I can be.

Spin class : The first.

2011-07-20T07:37:00.001+10:00

Yesterday I joined Healthworks. This morning I woke up with a stuffed up nose and a throat with a thousand litres of phlegm trying to get out.

My first rection was, “I better stay in bed. I can’t do exercise while I’m sick”.

My second reaction was, “Dude! Are you serious? You know somehow, deep in here, your mind is making you sick so you don’t have to get out of bed and start living a life that is more healthy and fun, right?”

First reaction me, “Nah man, I’m legit sick, seriously, might even be dying.”

Second reaction me: “Look, go blow your nose and get dressed. If you still don’t feel like going…we’ll talk about it then.”

So yeah, second reaction me won, I went to the gym. Can I just say that the people who work at Healthworks Deagon are lovely. They are so chatty and positive. I told the lady it was my first spin class, and she got so excited.

She said, “Oh! You are going to love it! It’s the best work out, it really is.” Then someone walked past and joined in on the spin class praise.

I can tell you now - that in itself eased up my fear a little bit. I have a fairly fit friend who only lasted 20minutes in spin.

He said, “It was so horrible I faked illness and left.”

I can’t wait to rub it in that I finished the session. Ha ha.

I really feel my mind shifting into positive gears at the moment, I’m not criticising myself as much. I acknowledge where I am, and know I can change. I know I will change.

Tonight I will hit up a pump class - I love pump class. I was going to try and do an other Spin class, but I figured i should reward myself with something I love and miss.

Change what you can not accept, accept what you can not change.

2011-07-14T16:08:00.004+10:00

[Cross posted to http://gethappyordietrying.tumblr.com/]

Hi I’m Sarah Morgan. I’m unhappy. I’m unhappy because I’ve lost my Mojo, Baby. That zest for life, the motivation to get out of bed and round house kick the shit out of life, and I have been living without it for quite some time.

That’s me thank’s to a candid shot. I was horrified - my cottage cheese arms, my hunched over back. However, that didn’t give me the motivation to change. I buried this deep into my computer and carried on living - hoping others wouldn’t realise how far I had fallen.

This is the photo that had me crying, and willing to do anything to change.

Still, I couldn’t start, everyday had it’s waking up challenges and it’s close to tears self-hatred, I wasn’t getting anywhere. So I emailed my old Boss, and friend, Alex. Alex is now the founder of Sweat Fitness Training. He’d helped me find my self-confidence a few years back, and at this stage I needed a cup of harden the fuck-up. Alex is the only person I know that can offer this cup - with a smile, a hug ready and full of confidence you can actually do it. He doesn’t tell you to harden the fuck up - unless he feels you’re capable of it.

Alex is the one that taught me the phrase, “Accept the things you can change, change the things you can not accept.” It wasn’t dieting and exercise that helped me lose weight, it was the can do confidence I had tapped within myself that gave me the resolve to stick to things that would benefit me.

I was overwhelmed with how fast and eagerly Alex threw his hand out to help me. He invited me down to work out an eating plan, and have some work out sessions. Yesterday I nervously went to meet with him. I was unbelievably embarrassed about my weight, I really didn’t want him to see me like that. Part of me kept telling myself to turn the car around, lose the weight and return when I had fixed myself up.

I needed that accountability though, Alex know’s what I have started. And will be devastated if I don’t continue with it. I’ll be devastated myself, he is giving me his time because he has complete faith that I can do this. It’s time for me to realise I can do anything I set my mind to, and start achieving results.

When Alex said, “For you this isn’t about losing weight, this isn’t about being healthy or not dying young. This is about you holding yourself back from being everything you can be.” I thought I got it.

It was when I got home that it really hit me. After talking to Alex I was pumped. Life was about to get a major series of round house kicks. Yeah! I couldn’t wait to get home and go for a walk, to concrete everything we had talked about and get the ball rolling harder and faster then before.

But, when I got home sitting on the couch and watching Oprah was starting to look like a way better option, it hadn’t even been and hour and I was losing resolve. So instead of going into my house, I left everything in the car and went on my walk. Going into the house would have been self sabotage. Once inside I would have convinced myself that I didn’t need to go on a walk…yet. Yet is the biggest annoyance of my life. I’m forever telling myself I don’t need to do Uni work yet, I don’t need to start my diet yet, and I definitely don’t need to do exercise yet!

What the fuck is the hold up? Seriously. I’m not busy, unless face-stalking is going to become and olympic event, then…I’m training hard. Do no disturb.

I’ve decided that after I write this post that I will go for an other walk to the pier and back. I can already feel myself pulling out of it. My back hurts! It’s boring! Seriously, as I write this, trying to be up beat, trying to get my life back, I’m already looking for the back door to escape.

What’s with that? I’m over letting myself be defeated. Furthermore, I’m sick of being the one who defeats me.I should be my best friend, I should be able to trust that I have my best interests at heart. So regardless of anything I have to say to myself, I’m going on that walk. I’ll post this tumblr a picture from the end of the pier. I owe it to myself to be as healthy as possible. I am worthy of achieving all that I can. I need to stop making stupid excuses - I need to harden the fuck up and live to the maximum of my potential.

I don’t just want to be thin, I want balance in all areas of my life. I want to hand in uni assignments knowing that is the best work I have done. On days I have “nothing” to do, I want to still get out of bed and grapple with life.

I’m an artist, there should be no days that I have nothing to do. I should be thinking, planning, creating…constantly. It’s my breath, and I keep holding it in and turning blue.

I’m unhappy being this over-weight self-loathing person. It’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to anyone who has to deal with me.

I hope this post isn’t sounding like I have no motivation to change, because besides my inner voice being a regular negative nancy - I’m going to do this. I’m going to do the shit out of this, I’ve done it before, but this time I’m going the entire distance, either little miss inner negative nancy will change her tune and join me - or she’ll be drowned out with positivity.

I have clear goals for the end of uni, I have clear goals for my body and clear goals for my mind. One step at a time I will complete these goals. I’ve tasted freedom before, and I am eager to do it again.

Six years.

2011-07-11T16:42:00.007+10:00

I'm not entirely unhappy that it's over. I know I have changed from that friendship. I don't regret the time, I think I've learned to maybe voice my hurt and frustrations instead of feeling it's stupid to feel that way, then letting it build up until I can't stand them. I think I came into the friendship as a child who was in awe, then as a grew I questioned certain things without actually bringing them up. I think I should have left the friendship after the weeks I was left smashed and crying after being lied to for over a year. Or perhaps I should have showed how hurt I was at the time? Or maybe after things I witnessed and couldn't deal with along the way. Maybe I should have supported my other friend when I believed how he felt but didn't think they could handle it and would feel like they were being cornered and ganged up on.
I've discussed my thoughts, feelings and motivations with my best friend and he feels that I made the right decision. And that's all I can do. It hurts that this all came crumbling down at an inopportune time. I just don't want this person in my life anymore. And from the email that I got, which can only be described as months of hate drafting, where apparently I'm a bitch because I expected them to read my mind, yet I'm also a bitch because I didn't read their mind, and go directly to their side when they had some rough shit go down. I don't know, maybe I'm the only one who see's how hypocritical that is. Maybe a phone call, or a face to face meeting could have fixed this early on. Both of us didn't do it though. Both of us are in the wrong. Only I can see this. That's why I'm glad this friendship is over.
I didn't write this for a long time because I had to come to terms with the end of the friendship. I also didn't write about my reasons because I feel that it wont fix what's done and aslong as I know my reasons, my family know my reasons, and my bestfriend knows my reason, that is all that matters to me.

Delicious Sandwich.

2011-07-10T12:46:00.007+10:00

This is a sandwich which was made a few weeks ago. It is the fabled Delicious Sandwich that you'll most likely hear my love talk about. There are some more photo's but they aren't playing nice.

( I just spelt, 'they' as 'thay'.(But then I deleted it so you wouldn't know. (but then I started telling you so you do now know.)) In year three we were doing a spelling test and the teacher called out, "They" for us to write down, she even said, "if anyone puts an 'A' in this I will be very disappointed". I was the only one in the class that spelt it 'thay'. I didn't receive two jelly beans for my spelling test that day. ( Can you even give kids jellybeans as incentives to do their spelling homework these days? (oh the humanity!!))).

Ho hum.

2011-07-07T14:26:00.005+10:00

The life of a student. I'm so poor this week. Do you want to know how poor? I decided to put on some washing then mosey on over to the local second hand book shop. Now, I only went there for something to do while the washing did it's thing. I just wanted to see what was there. I think I may have lied to myself. If I really was only going there just to look, why did I take my purse? Oh, the mysteries of life. At least I only bought one book, right? Eat, pray, love - by Elizabeth Gilbert. I will either love this book through deep, snotty sobs and loud, belly laughs - or I'll hate it. The hype on this book is to much for me to come away with a simple, "meh".

What else has been going on since my last post? Oh, I've started creating a milk crate shelf system in my studio/ unorganised room of crap with a computer that Frank plays games on. It's another of those poor students things, I've been trying to save for a set of shelves for ages now, but you know, beer isn't free. But it's ok, because what's more art-student sheik then milk-crate furniture?

Can you see the felt in the third crate down? I have so much felt! Someone come craft with me!

Also, today I got my first cast iron pot! It's beautiful. It's black/red on the outside with a creamy while enamel interior.

And in super old news, I got a kettle...Which I still haven't used.

Lonely island. (feat. Justin Timberlake.)

2011-07-04T09:51:00.003+10:00

(Sorry about the quality...the good one didn't allow embedding.)

I don't know about you, but after 'dick in a box' I fell for Justin Timberlake - hard. I found myself rewinding over his music career and thinking to myself. I LOVE THIS MAN! - HE IS BRILLIANT! (The verdict on wether this will end my relationship is still pending - Frank feels confident that he can move past it though.)

Timberlake has an awesome sense of timing with humour, and I think that Lonely Island should make Justin the Fergie to their Black Eyed Peas...if you catch my drift (It's a sex joke(it's not really a sex joke)).

If you aren't as convinced as me...watch this.

Come on! Sex with each others mums! Brilliant! Every Mothers-day needs a Mothers-night? GENIUS!

I also have one more video, even though we both know I've proved my point. Don't worry, I'm not sure what the point was either.

In other news, I woke Frank up by talking to him in my sleep. Apparently when he replied to me I just stared at him in confusion...I feel a bit creepy.

‎"When I see an adult on a bicycle, I have hope for the human race." H. G. Wells (1866 - 1946)

2011-06-30T12:10:00.012+10:00

I really want a bicycle. I'm trying to get my boyfriend and his brother to get one as well so we can have a Sandgate bicycle gang. Then we can go rolling around dinging our bells, filling our front baskets with pretty flowers and being genrally hardcore. It will be the best times infinity. I don't know what bike to get though. They are super expensive, so I need to choose one that I want to be with for a very long time. Choosing a bike is like choosing a boyfriend. It has to be more then just shiny. It has to have substance. I don't just want a 1-speed fling. I want a multi-speed love affair!

Ok so I know what kind of ~~boyfr~~ bicycle I want. I want a 3-speed or more beach cruiser. Now there is a lot of hussy skank 1-speeds which will try and suck you in with their sleek frames and rebellious attitudes. I for one wont be taken for a fool. I want a bike that is pretty and can take me places. My sister on the other hand settled for this bike.

While it's attractive features do lure me somewhat, especially with the groovy customised drink holder. I can't help but think, what will happen at our first hill? Are we going to be able to change gears and cope with it? Or am I going to have to jump off and push it up the hill? What kind of relationship is this? Am I to undertand we'll never get up a hill together? I'm sorry, I want more from a bicycle. I want to get a up a hill...or at least have the structural ability too...my fitness might be the losser of the hill game, but I want a bicycle who is tough and going to push me to do more. Like a Jenny 7 -speed.

You're right. She's just not as attractive as the corvette deluxe. Can I afford to be that picky? Some of the prettiest bikes come in a 1-speed, designed for leisurely rides along paths parallel to beaches. I do want to do that. I want to do that so bad. My sense of romantic atmosphere has been whittled down to holding my boyfriends hand and watching our washing dry at the laundromat. I want to ride into sunsets, dismount into soft white sand, then be ravaged by moonlight...uh, back to the bikes. Ok, so Jenny 7 is a cheap multi-speed cruiser. When I look at a bike and think, "OMG!! This is the one", I find out the price is around a grand. This is very not cool when you're a poor student.

I have a picture in my head of the bike I want and I'm in love with it. My boyfriend keeps suggesting I look at Gumtree, or Cash Converters, or any other cheaper second hand alternative. I have looked, it's just there is nothing there I want. If there was I'd buy it in a second. I want a bike that I love and would die for. If someone was about to shoot my bike in the tyre, I want to love it so hard that without hesitation I jump in front of that bullet and save my bike from deflation.

There are two bikes I see in my mind, wait... three. One is red with white handle grips, a white seat and white wall tyres. The next one is beige-cream, with brown leather handle grips, brown seat, cream wall tyres and a beautiful cane basket at the front. The third is a hot neon green frame, with green grips and seat but the rest of the bike is black.

Obviously I want the second one the most. I would then need a red berre to wear on top of my helmet, a red handkerchief to tie around my neck and a black and white long sleeved turtleneck. And probably some Yoplait yogurt for the basket...It's french for Yum.

My ultimate dream bike looks a bit like this.

My second dream bike would look a bit like this.

I can't find my third dream bike so I'll have to just trust your imaginations on that one.

This post as been brought to you by Me (Sarah Morgan) and this months obsession (Bicycles).

So in short. I want a bike!

Do I really want to be happy?

2011-06-27T16:55:00.002+10:00

I am about to start reading a book called, 'The five feel-good factors-The key to true happiness'. A book my my best friend and soulmate lent to be last night. I've been thinking about reading a motivational book for a while now. My motivation is only and ember at the moment and I need something to stoke it back to life.

There is a person in my life who is living with chronic depression, it breaks my heart to witness them talk badly about themselves. They believe they are shit, and their life will amount to nothing. They think that the true apex of their life will be to die at the age of 27 - like that of many of their heros. I can't describe how hard it is to watch someone you love want death so ambitiously.

Especially after experiencing my cousin Daniels suicide, and my friend Kate's medication overdose. Daniel had no history of depression or suicide attempts- He was fourteen though. Kate had a few close calls over the time I had known her.

I'm terrified of depression. It makes people do things that are irrational and selfish, but only because it's an all consuming mental illness where life becomes nothing and their existence seems bleak and wasteful.

I feel like a hypocrite when I try and help this person though. I feel that, whilst I stay unmotivated and unhappy in myself, I can't try to help them, or encourage them to help themselves.

I want to be happy. I want them to be happy. I'm going to read this book and try and take the steps towards a more motivated and fulfilling life. Not to say this book will be some kind of magic cure, I'm just hoping it has a few strategies I can take advantage of or a few enlightening viewpoints that could give my brain a helping hand.

I miss Daniel. Oh, I miss him so much.

2011-06-22T13:16:00.004+10:00

I've been feeling really bad lately. i didn't give uni my all this semester, I allowed everything and anything to distract me, the distancing from old friendships, the new boyfriend, moving around, my mother's health...partying, drinking....you name it, if it wasn't uni, I was there doing it.

I was scared I was going to fail this semester, and was terrified about what that would mean. Luckily making stuff has been what I do. I haven't really stopped making stuff in months now, so even though written assessments have been a display of my inner retard. Today I found out i passed, because of the quality and quantity of my work, if I had been a bit more conscientious with my written assessment...then perhaps it would be better then a pass, but, "Hey, P's are degree's too ya know!"

So I walked out of the studio interview feeling up-beat and on track again. I was far from that last night, Frank had to comfort me as i bawled my eyes out over how much of a failure I was, and how I was probably going to become a junkie because I admired their strength to say, "Fuck, society - Ima gonna do whatever the fuck I like." - I'm prone to theatrics...

The difference in how I feel today, as aposed to yesterday - is enormous. It has me thinking about my cousin Daniel, I wish he'd given it another day, or another week. Sometimes I feel like i've hit rock bottom. I think i've screwed my life up so hard that there is no recovering. Then the next day, or the next week, shit picks up again. This is just the flow of life. I wish he was still here to experience the highs and lows. I wish he hadn't of felt so low that the only way up was to take his life.

I really miss him, and I believe he would have had a really amazing life had he kept flowing with the rest of us. I hope that suicide becomes less taboo, and that more people feel comfortable about approaching other's for help. I hope there is away out of darkness for anyone who has those persistant sad days.

I get that it's hard. Holy shit, I don't even think I could explain how much I fucking get it. I hope I never have to deal with another suicide again. It's a completely overwhelming tragedy when someone takes themselves away from you like that. The greif always sits in your stomach like a large banquet lunch.

This December the seventh, it will be 8 years since he left. I can still feel his cold forehead on my fingers. I wish I hadn't touched his corpse. I wish I only remembered his warm hugs and his wheezy loud vibrant laugh.

I get scared I will forget him. Sometimes I question wether there was a Daniel, or wether I've just made up this amazing cousin - but days like today make me realise he was real, and I will never forget.

I want a more positive outlook.

2011-06-14T16:46:00.002+10:00

It's not that I have a horrible life. I have a great life - good boss (shitty job), I'm going to uni, I have some really great friends, I have a family that will do anything for me - even when I crack hissy fits and delete them from facebook and I've got a beautiful boyfriend who makes me feel wonderful all the time.
I can't shake negative thoughts though. I'm not sure wether the majority of my thoughts are negative, or wether I just let the negative ones consume me more violently. Genrally I am upbeat and try and give other people a positive outlook, well I try, I can't say I succeed 100% of the time, as case studies will show that I am also a prime bitch from time to time.

Am I just insane?

How do I capture a more positive life?

I want to wake up and want to seize the day...
instead of wanting to press snooze again...

Wish in one hand and shit in the other - see which fills up first.

2011-06-14T16:23:00.006+10:00

/ start rant >Regardless of that vulgar saying - I still have a wish. I wish that there was a huge pillow I could put my head under, and that the world would freeze and stop rocketing me around. Fuck you world, fuck you and your relentless turning.

On a brighter/not very bright note I think I need a rest from pyrography...I went to do some today and felt physically nauseous at the mere thought of doing it...not a good sign. Maybe I just need a break? Or, and this is probably way more accurate - I CAN'T BLOODY STICK TO ANYTHING!!!

I am a chronic leap frogger...this is not goooooood!! I can't find anything I want to do on a fulltime basis? How do you all be so consistant?? Wait...I am pretty consistant at being inconsistant...that's a thing...right?

I think I will pick up that novel thing I started and give it a good hot crack over the holidays, unless I failed uni...then it would be an extended holiday/ I'm going to kill myself if my life doesn't become more productive soon. < / end rant

2011-06-06T17:46:00.006+10:00

As end of semester draws to a close, i.e tomorrow at 11:59pm is the submission time for my last assessment - well other then the studio interview on the 22nd.
The only thing preoccupying my mind right now as I sit at the computer to write my studio rationale is - what the fuck happened?
In the last year and a half nearly every friendship I made in my visual art diploma has fizzled and died. I know that these things happen in the course of a life time, and I'm probably dwelling on it as a means to escape the writing of my rationale - but still, it's had me in tears for the better half of the afternoon.
These friendships were what I thought the start of life long friendships were made of, and now I'm left wondering, 'Why do I find it so hard to maintain friendships?'
I still have James though - my best friend for over 10 years, I would be lying if I said most of the afternoon wasn't spent worried sick that eventually I'd lose him to. Sometimes I really love being alone, and it's hard for me to leave the house because I'm happily making something, or just thinking, or reading, or whatever. Then sometimes i'm hit in the gut with such a loneliness as I realise I've just gone and taken myself/ been dropped from another circle of friends.

My old boss and friend once told me I needed to start accepting the things I couldn't change and changing the things I couldn't accept. I think in the last year and a half I lost sight of that. I've gained weight, lost friends, and felt more lost then ever. I'm doing this art course in a slow plod rather then giving it my true passion. I am passionate about art, I just feel lost in what I am in relation to it. Many of my friends/people I know seem so grounded and focused. I feel so much pressure to have that same grounding and focus, but I'm not sure if that is even a realistic thing to ask of myself. I need to work out how to best navigate this world in a peaceful and productive way using my chaotic and wish-washy nature.

I'm the worst.

2011-05-29T11:35:00.001+10:00

I've totally neglected the shit out of my blog over the uni semester. In just over a week I'm going to photo bomb the shit out of this blog with the work I did over the semester.

Boobs and skulls.

2011-04-11T08:02:00.000+10:00