The F word.

It’s a hell of a lot easier to write about heartbreak than it is about love.

But hey, we’ve done the heartbreaks. Now for the mended outcome: I’m so very happy where we are right now. Locked in the celestial dance of moon and sun, both shining.

I’ve even been confident enough to broach that subject which I’ve been scared of. The Future. Yes. The Future. It has weighed heavily on my mind for a few weeks now.

First the big question: Will you get married again? Would you want to marry me?

Fairly innocent, but let’s be honest. I would happily spend my life with this guy. I will never be tired of his ramblings. Of his affection. Of his busy mind. Of his plans and goals.

But guys, this isn’t a proposal. Put you streamers and balloons away. It’s a dream. Just hopefully a shared dream. Time will tell.

Then something easier: Do you want to move in together next year? My lease comes up in August and I’d really like to consider that. We spend a lot of time together anyway.

The moving in thing though. There are some things to think about. We’re not both financially stable enough to support that yet. He is in a start-up, building an incredible company, but struggling to make money. We’ll see how that goes. I don’t have any reserve finances to lay out furnishings for an apartment. So August next year gives time to sort those things out.

Cue drunken conversations about our respective roommates, past roommates, ex-wives, emotional baggage still being unpacked. He’s a complex man. There are a lot of things he is working through internally to be a better human. To be a better partner. To resolve parts of his mind that have become dark. To learn how to live with shade and light and not be overcome. I love that. I respect the hell out of that. I support that.

Without being too heavy, it was a good conversation to have. It’s good for him to understand what I want out of life, and who I’d like to do it with. It’s good for me to understand where his limits are and where they move to. We can’t pretend that we are something else. We can’t expect the other person to just know. It’s good to be honest, it’s even better to know your honesty will be supported.

Coming to you live, from my happy place.



Political Bullshit.


What are your thoughts on dual/multiple citizenship and being able to serve in parliament?

We celebrate the fact that we’re a multicultural country to the rest of the world, but within our own boarders it’s seems to be not so.

“We are one, but we are many, and from all the lands on earth we come. We share a dream, and sing with one voice – I am, You are, We are Australia (unless you have dual citizenship because than you’re not actually Australian and you can’t serve our country on the political front because that sh*ts just wrong)”

So because we have migrated to a country, do we have to give up our heritage entirely? Do we have to concede our ties to our ancestors? All of our history that makes us unique! Does that mean we also don’t love the country we live in equally?

Surely, a country of many flags and one uniting flag should accept it’s leaders coming from many flags and uniting under one flag.

If diversity really does encourage creativity/new perspective/innovation/new ideas, then why are we still insisting that our leaders should not be diverse at all?




I’m Gonna Pop Some Tags.

(I have less than $20 in my pocket TBH).

Since I’ve started my #newcorporatejob I’ve discovered I don’t have as many corporate clothes as I have “lazy day every day” clothes. And since I’ve been out of work and not yet been paid, I’m also a bit low on the fund$ to go out an revamp my wardrobe. When I moved apartments recently I threw away (donated) about half my clothes that didn’t fit, didn’t need, and didn’t want, to Vinnies & Salvo’s.

SO, whilst spending our house deposit money on smashed avo and coffee, we planned our attack on thrift shops in our vicinity. We had a list, we had a car, we had coffee in our veins, we were ready to go! (By this point in the story, it’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon – we don’t move fast on weekends..)


$90k avo on toast. $40k coffee. Bye, bye, house deposit.


Being thrifty is fantastic. It’s a great way to give back a little to your community whilst you and your gal pals going on a shopping spree that doesn’t break the bank. Win! And to be honest, if we’re going to spend a bunch of dough on breakfast, we can’t afford to buy off the runway outfits. It’s all about balance, am I right?

We hit up a lot of great places. The first was a quaint little church* with darling old sisters running the store. I’ve also come to the resolution that I in fact NEED a record player. If only to buy all the old classics and play them in my house all day long for background noise. I would then also need a long black cigarette holder, a chesterfield, and a few great hats. Classic.


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I picked up a few amazing men’s t-shirts that will be re-purposed as some of my corporate day-to-day shirts. If I can look good the morning after in them, I can certainly make it work with a blazer and cropped black pants. #workappropriate. Steph picked up two pants, which needed a little nip/tuck to fit just right, but at $2.50, the threads were well worth the stitch.

Don’t get me started on getting out of that carpark. It’s a tiny little entry and I swear there was only a hairsbreadth between my car and some obnoxious SUV who swerved into the driveway.

We hit the next closest Salvo’s in Red Hill**. I’m certain the guys out the front had a bit of a laugh at the two chicks with some music banging out the car window. It’s OK, we had a giggle at you too.

I tell ya, if you move out of home or just need to get a piece of furniture or anything for your house, don’t go to K-Mart. As fabulous as it is, you will find everything you never knew you needed at a Salvo’s or Vinnies***. These are gold mines for anyone setting up house. Save a buck, be eclectic, have some fun history to that side-table.



For some truly amazing wardrobe pieces though, we found the independent thrift shops to be the best. They are also a WHOLE LOT CHEAPER than the bigger places. There’s a reason Macklemore won 2012 Triple J’s Hottest 100. SH*T, it was 99c! Everything we picked up was from two or three smaller shops. 10/10 would go again.

Yesterday**** offered up some great sundresses, excellent vintage pieces, and a small jewellery collection (a watch that I already seemed to have misplaced..). The ladies in there were amazing. They were just chatting away about a some quirks their beauty therapist has. The creaking floorboards tracked out steps through the old house. The faint smell of musk hung in the air.


Yesterday, all my troubles seemed to far away…


What I love the most about thrift is they only stock things in good condition. When we were kids we used to go to the dump shop (second hand store, I think?). There was so much stuff! But a lot of it was useless or broken or stained and in no way “pre-loved”. Certainly “pre-worn” and trashed, but definitely no love went in to selecting these items for the racks.

We had the best day and are planning another attack in a few weeks. Steph’s mum and a few workmates want to come too. Share the love, I say. So that was our little weekend adventure. I highly suggest you all checking out what your locals have; it will be a good time, and a cheap time. Who doesn’t love shopping? Who loves shopping and not having to refinance their mortgage to pay off the credit card debt?!


This is a little list of the places we popped into.

* Quaint Little Church

**  Salvos Stores Red Hill

*** Vinnies

**** Yesterday’s Thrift Shop



The Misadventure of Mt Beerburrum.

We’re going on an adventure!

Today is ANZAC Day, a day where Australia and New Zealand remember the sacrifice and mateship of our Aussie heros at Gallipoli in World War II, and the lives that we given to ensure our freedom today. Aussies love a day off too, so if you’re not at a BBQ, at the beach, fishing, camping, doing something, then you’re reallllly missing out on a beautiful day away from work. Steph and I got up ridiculously early (ahem, 7:30am) to start our day. We planned do go for a bit of a mountain climb on Saturday last week, but the weather was a bit iffy, and we chose sleep over action. But hey! public holiday a few days later, up and at em to climb a mountain. Off we toddled, down to the car and on to the highway and drove for about an hour North to the Glasshouse mountains. /insert picture of mountains here/ OK!


Our destination: Mt Beerburrum. Yep. Beer. mmmmm…. could go for a cold one.

Steph was navigating (this should say it all, really). When we pulled up to the track, I wasn’t 100% sure this was the place we should be. My little car hasn’t been on a dirt road in many a year. But hey, adventures is what we do. “We’ll just wing it”, me, about something we should definitely not wing.



We’re on a road to nowhere
Come on inside
Taking that ride to nowhere
We’ll take that ride
I’m feeling okay this morning
And you know
We’re on the road to paradise
Here we go, here we go

(thanks, Talking Heads)


Nevertheless, your fearless wanderers, Shan & Steph, carried on. What we stumbled on at the end of this little dirt road to nowhere was a beautiful old cemetery for the families and soldiers of World War I. Now I didn’t go to a Dawn Service for our fallen men, but it was so special to happen upon this place on a day so important to our country’s history. I’m comforted in knowing that these soldiers and families out in a tiny little corner of the world were remembered by me and Steph today. 20170425_140421-COLLAGEOnwards and upwards. After a short interlude, we hit the trail. The only trail. The Soldiers Settlers Track. Today was surely fate. Sign says “stay away fools, cuz love rules” “3.5km one way” which means 7km round trip. Which means at least over an hour through the bush. Guy’s it was a bushwalk, and not a super easy one. Plagued with cobwebs, things that scurried out of our path, bushes with needles for leaves. About halfway through our little misadventure, we met another wanderer. He was dark and handsome and very friendly, and even decided to walk with us for the rest of the way. Tell ya what, us two girls alone on in the bush didn’t mind the company. Meet, Brown Dog. Yes. That’s what is says on his collar. Imaginative parents….


Our bushwalk turned into a mission to return the dog home. He just didn’t want to leave us. Not that I minded. We would have happily kept him if our apartment balcony was big enough. What a mission. It took us away from the trail and onto the dirt country roads. It took us up to a Macadamia tree farm, dotted with different properties. But it didn’t take us to Brown Dog’s home. We stopped to chat over a fence with a neighbour to ask if they knew where Dog belonged, and they offered to take him home. #gooddeeddone. Mr Neighbour was also kind enough to point us back in the direction of the path and to our car, because by this time, we were hopelessly lost. Google Maps I’m sure even whispered “What the fuck..” a few times. I definitely heard it. Definitely.

Back into the bush we went. Finally back on track, literally. We found the track. Dodging THE BIGGEST COBWEB YOU’VE SEEN IN YOUR LIFE and shrieking at the worlds smallest snake (TBH it could have just been a baby legless lizard), the car was suddenly in sight. WE MADE IT. Phew. For a minute there, two gals on a bushwalk in the middle of nowhere. Geez, all we needed to do was split up and it would have been a horror movie plot right there.

We made it. We went in and came out the other side. We didn’t die. We did get lost. We certainly didn’t escape unscathed. We had a great little adventure.

Hot Tip #58, wear Aeroguard. Those mozzies are killers.

We hit the road again, went up the main highway less than 100m and behold, Mt Beerburrum Lookout, Turn Here. 

Maybe next time.


They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old; 

Age shall not weary then, nor the years condemn. 

At the going down on the sun and in the morning

We will remember them. 

Lest we forget.