I love being filthy. I want to be the filthiest woman alive. Filth is so great because it’s dirty and mucky and bad. I don’t like things that evoke propriety and moralism, but rather, things that celebrate rebellion and debauchery. Filth is just one byproduct of what I like to call ‘The will to badness’.
With these values of mine well established and usually uninhibited, I’m now faced with an all new and disconcerting dilemma. As you can imagine, my house is filthy, as per my ethos of filthiness. It’s a personal joy of mine to let my shelves accumulate dust and to never wash the toilet. I love cooking my baked beans over a stovetop that is blackened with char and spillages. Even the range hood fan doesn’t work properly because of all the grease that must be trapped inside (LOVE cooking food that’s bad for you!) But alas, my oven broke down and now I need to get a repairs guy over, and, I hate to say this, but I’m afraid of compromising my values…
ILVE oven repairs near Sydney don’t cost too much and are quite efficient, the least I could do for them is to clean the kitchen before they get to work.
Now I know what you’re thinking – what do I care right? Well, I don’t care what people think of me obviously, in fact, I’d love for people to see me as a filthy slob. But at the same time, I believe in complete freedom so long as you don’t step on anyone else’s toes, and I think this is a good way to live. It’s the libertarian way. A friend of mine who is very clean recently had Sydney Miele oven repairs and she didn’t care two-hoots about the repair guy’s comfort or safety. I mean, she didn’t open the door straight away cos she was ‘wasn’t ready’, she left this huge box of unpacked crockery in the way and didn’t move it for him, she didn’t even offer him a drink of water after the job was done. Just goes to show that filthiness and cleanliness are no reflection of character.
I need to be better with the carpet cleaning and I definitely should work on being a better friend. From now on I will be more assertive and speak my mind when I feel the desire. I will do my best to never be rude or cruel, but I will stand my ground and fend for myself, not letting anyone push me around or step on me. I will no longer let fear be the dominant emotion that rules my mind and my body and controls my emotions. I will be motivated by love, kindness, courage and compassion for all. Passion needs to be a features of my days. That will be my life goal from here on out. My apartment, much like my emotional state has been a mess these last months. It all starts with cleaning. 
ometimes I feel like I’m mooching off my parents a little bit too much. I mean, I live with them, they paid for my university education, and now I have a job as my mum’s PA. It kind of feels like cheating at life a little bit. I can’t really claim that I’m mum’s PA as a virtue of my merits. I didn’t know a thing about answering phones or making bookings before this job – I did an Arts degree for crying out loud. This is a case of nepotism pure and simple. Not that I’m complaining, I love earning a huge salary straight out of uni, but sometimes it just feels kind of … wrong.
time has finally come for me to surrender a battle I’ve been losing for so many years. Walking through life with this burden weighing me down has caused who knows how many bad days, needless squabbles, foul moods, or dejected evenings, but it’s time for all that to come to an end. I’m talking, of course, about my struggles with aging. 
Crazy love stories are not exclusively the stuff of Hollywood fables. I can vouch for this because I have one of my own. I was in love with a man – or at least, I thought I was, until the day of our wedding day when everything changed quicker than you can say, ‘I do.’ My story is not just a testament to who fickle cupid can be but also how hard that arrow stings. I almost made the biggest mistake of my life and the only reason why I didn’t was thanks to 
e been rollerblading for pretty much my whole life. While other kids picked up hobbies and then dropped them in favour of other, potentially more exciting things, rollerblading was just one of those things that always stuck with me. I learned just for a spot of fun with friends, but as I got better I used to use them kind of like a bike, you know, to get to places a bit faster. When I was older I even dabbled in a bit of roller-derby type sports, but it was all too violent for me. 
I never thought I’d deign to date anyone with less than a six figure income. I’d had 16 years of private schooling and the best tertiary money could afford, and now work at a law firm in the city. I love my job, not just the money but the prestige, the way I can look down from my 21st floor office at the puny people slaving away beneath me, picking at my sashimi bento box and booking my next manicure appointment.
My mum didn’t believe me when I told her that a pirate taught me to ice skate on my tenth birthday. She couldn’t understand how I’d learned, on my first day of skating, to balance on one leg, without the skate aid to save me from a nasty fall. It was dad who’d found the place – he’d searched ‘
Some people say that Melbourne has some of the worst signage in the world. They say that driving anywhere is a nightmare unless you know the roads like the back of your hands, that it’s impossible to find what you’re looking for most of the time. To that I say ‘rubbish’. Alright, so maybe the directions on our roads aren’t the best, but when it comes to basically every other form of