My relationship began as most do: with butterflies, feeling on top of the world whenever his hand brushed mine, melting whenever I smelled his cologne, adoring every word he said, and smiling whenever someone said his name. There were so many firsts all at once, it was like a love-bomb: first date, first kiss, first time we said the L word, the first time he stayed at my house, first time I met his family, and the first time we farted in front of each other (my favourite first).
Four years later, we’re engaged and living together, and things have naturally changed. We have all but run out of firsts. The butterflies are present but not nearly as frequent; whenever someone says his name, I’m like ‘yeah, ok’; and the conversation isn’t exactly adorable. Often I find him giving me a detailed description of the shit he just took, or telling me why tomato sauce should be a food group. Continue reading
So, I had a bit of a revelation the other day. Nothing life-changing or world altering – just the same little light bulb moment I have once every few months:
Being a woman sucks.
I was sixteen years old. I cried. Not with pain, not with pleasure – certainly not with desire. I cried with the sheer relief at having sloughed off the weight of my clunky, ungainly virginity, which I had carried with me everywhere I went. I was free to turn away from the boy in whose bed I had divested myself of something I no longer had any use for.
It was gone.
You are so cool! You look so nice today! How are you doing? Are you doing swell?
Gosh it feels like we’ve been apart for so long, and we HAVE, because we (Sian, James, and Sam) are all together in Melbourne for the Emerging Writers’ Festival! Wow!
Along with attending some rad panels and getting saturated with inspiration, we’ve been ~networking~ and ~repping the mag~ all over the show but mostly at the SCUM X VOICEWORKS BOX SOCIAL on Saturday afternoon. Boy howdy that was a fun time! It was a delight & a pleasure to meet all the cool cats from the Voiceworks editorial committee and all the other talented and charming guests—thank you SO much for coming along, and thank you as well to everyone who participated in our #boxsocial Twitterfall–wow! 2013!! We had readings from Jessica Alice, Broede Carmody and Oliver Mol (Sam said some junk also) and the whole thing was facilitated by the v. outstanding Kat Muscat. Everyone is so clever and beautiful and patient with Sian’s chicken stories and we’re all still blushing about it.
While I might look fairly innocuous, you can bet that at any given time I am thinking the most fucked up shit. Disclaimer: I don’t fantasise about weird stuff like death or Justin Bieber proposing to me [WHAT THIS ISN’T WEIRD – Ed.], I don’t have a mental disorder, and I probably won’t murder you. In fact, according to a whole bunch of people on the internet, it’s completely normal to be a little paranoid – and everything on the internet is true.
Hello everybody! C. Hocking here, newest starlet in the writing game.
I’ve been checking out your stuff online and in the print and first off, great job! You’re doing pretty good! Not much talent but a lot of good raw ideas and textures in your work. But also if you’re ever going to make it in this industry (and it is a damn hard industry, oh my godddd ha ah in this sunburnt laaaaaand) then here are a few pointers that I have compiled in my own personal roller coaster ride to the stars.