It is that itching feeling you get when you are at the beginning of something new and exciting with the possibility to change your life forever. It is the feeling that, twelve months ago, was racing through my body at a million miles an hour. It is the feeling of fear, excitement and absolute trepidation moulded into one. It is the feeling that your heart is about to jump out of your chest and you absolutely cannot control it.

Twelve months ago today, I was preparing for what was then the adventure of my lifetime, six months of travel beginning as a solo traveller in New York before settling down for a semester of study at San Jose State University in California. It was the most amazing thing I have done in my life so far to date. But now, I feel there may be another.

It is not so much the act of travel that gets my heart racing; it is more so the feeling of independence and self-realisation that comes with the decision making behind travel. The feeling of adventure and yearning to discover, and it is a feeling I am beginning to know a little too well. I love the sense of achievement I feel when I tackle a challenge or overcome a hurdle, be it as simple as navigating myself from JFK to NYC and then onto Boston, MA all on forms of public transport. It is these things that excite me and are what I live for.

I have that feeling right now. Exactly as I write this. It is the feeling that the world is at your feet and you are about to take hold of it and never let it go. This time it is not that I am embarking on a new overseas adventure, but rather I am coming to the end of one at home. With only three subjects to go at university and the months flying by like they are going out of fashion, I feel that as this adventure that has been my university life is coming to an end, a whole new world of opportunity will begin.

While this is getting all too philosophical and I feel like I am Delta on the voice telling Rachel that she is a shooting star and to believe, I also think it is important for us as humans to embrace these moments and emotions. We need to recognise them so that we can look back on our achievements and recognise where we come from. I am blessed by amazing family, friends and enormous love in my life and as well as this opportunities that seem to come in abundance. These are not to be taken for granted and it is with these I love and am given the inspiration to “take hold of the world and never let it go”.

I love this feeling and I never want to let it go <3

And ps. How cute is this pic? Lets make someday, TODAY xo

Insta-cism?

I was recently at a friends birthday party and casually looked around the room in horror to see that every single one of my eighteen girlfriends was either taking a photo on their iPhone, checking each one of us in to “Best night eva” or thinking of a catchy caption to accommodate their latest Instagram upload.

As an exclusive application to the iPhone, I am going to try and defend my non-participation of Instagram to deep values and not wanting to participate in yet another social media tool, however the simple truth is that my HTC is not accommodating to the iPhone app. Admitting this truth, does not dismay from the horror I experienced when realising the self absorption of my group of friends.

As the night went on, we were gossiping and laughing and the flashes continued. I began thinking of why people feel the need to upload every aspect of their life onto the internet (and yes, I do appreciate the irony of this as I write this on a blog). The issue finally found its way into conversation and as I, perhaps condescendingly, declared “Instagram encourages narcissism, which is why I don’t want to support it”. I was confronted with what some would consider a lynch squad wanting to take down this horrible witch who spoke so badly about what they fondly call “Insta”.

Wikipedia (who is quickly becoming my best friend) defines narcissism in several ways; specific to the individual it describes traits of egoism, vanity, conceit and selfishness, while applied to a social group it denotes elitism. In psychology, ‘narcissism’ is used to describe both normal self-love and unhealthy self-absorption due to a disturbance in the sense of self.

Taking those definitions, I am not sure (or rather am hoping) that they do not apply to my group of girlfriends. Instagram does encourage a degree of vanity and conceit that I deem unacceptable and I am sure that without the technologies like Instagram, my friends would never feel compelled to document their lives on an iPhone app. My grievances could have stopped here but following this Saturday night of paparazzi that is, my Insta using friends, it followed me to breakfast the next morning.

Trying out a new local café with four girlfriends we were following the usual conventions of a Sunday morning breakfast. Who went home with who, who was wearing what, and which clubs sucked while others rocked. I was enjoying my company until our first round of coffees came. As the soy lattes and short macs came to the table, out came the iPhones and next thing I knew, my table was swarmed by paparazzi. Flashes popping left right and centre, and the words exclaimed from my friends mouth “Oh my god, I have to Insta this!”.

While I appreciate the concept of nurturing memories and seeing what your friends are up to, I just haven’t come to terms to doing it myself. I relish my Sunday morning breakfast dates with my girlfriends, filled with conversation, gossip and laughter and where iPhone use is strictly prohibited. When did it become okay to take pictures in restaurants with flashes and bore your company into ordering two more coffees while you are uploading a photo of your ‘perfect eggs benny’?

As an aspiring communications professional, I should be eating all of this new media right up. Facebook and Twitter have certainly already developed an ‘unhealthy self-absorption’ in me, that as the youngest of four girls, I really didn’t need. So perhaps my dislike of Instragram is purely a self-preservation technique before I become the complete definition of narcissist.

Please note: At the time of this post, Instagram remained exclusive to iPhone, now that Android are on board, it should be duly noted that I am yet to give in! 

#teamjoel

I have been less than active on my blog lately so I am going to try to give it a little revamp.

I need to confess my obsession with The Voice. Yes, I was one of the 2.5 million Australians watching the reality TV program last night and I feel that in my own intellectual defence, it needs to be known that this is the only reality TV I watch. And last night as I followed the Twitter feed and the various live blogs circulating on the show, I worked out why I loved it so much – it created such a positive movement in the Australian public that is so rarely seen today.

Every contestant seemed genuinely happy for each other that they had made it so far and although at times the ‘shooting star’ analogies and ‘I believed you’ moments made me want to flick the switch off the show, their positivity was heart-warming.

What The Voice did and what is incredibly remarkable, is ignite the Australian public to unite in a show and share optimism with each other through social networks. There were countless social commentators who were busy snapping remarks about the credibility of the show and one radio presenter even went as far as accusing The Voice as forcing previous contestants to “suck corporate cock”. Tom Ballard, the contestant you referred to is sixteen so please be thoughtful of the face that she has a mother and a father and who can blame a girl to choose a prime time television ad spot to showcase her amazing talent?

The negatives aside, I think The Voice was a generally up lifting show and as I said last night, between The Voice and the Olympics, this year really is Nine2012. 

Chelsea Farry; MY LIFE, MY STORY, MY EXPERIENCE: Why I am blogging

Yesterday I heard of the amazing story of Chelsea Farry; a twenty-three year old law student from Brisbane who has recently been diagnosed with cervical cancer.


I was inspired by her story and bravery in sharing her story with others. 


I have written before about cervical cancer and the importance of regular pap smears and I am so passionate about eradicating this horrible disease. 


Chelsea writes of her experience in her blog and I encourage every body to read it, if not for yourself than for the beautiful women in your lives so that you can prevent another story just like Chelseas.


<3


MY LIFE, MY STORY, MY EXPERIENCE: Why I am blogging: This year was supposed to be one of the happiest years of my life! Graduation was just around the corner and I was looking forward to start...

I think it's love...

When the Wintergarden re-opened last week, besides Guzman y Gomez giving away free burritos, I couldn’t have cared less.

 Two days later however, a friend of mine practically screamed at me that I need to go to check it out. She mentioned one shop in particular and after her adamant obsession I felt I needed to check it out. The story goes something like this…

You know when you go on a first date and you really like the guy and try to play cool but the minute you walk into your house you start screaming and jumping up and down because you think FINALLY something new, fantastic, fun, happy and positive is happening in your life? Well, that was kind of like my first date with Sheike.

I was on lunch so had to make my visit tight, I whisked into the crowded Wintergarden and immediately had concierge direct me to my destination; I entered very coyly and casually browsed the racks. Fluro yellow, neon pink, electric blue and orange made the foundations of this wonderfully affordable store. Think CUE before it became boring and completely unaffordable. The styles are unique, cutting edge and completely fit the 20-35 year old female professional market. I wanted everything. But remembering I was still on my first date, I played by the rules, kept my cards close to my chest and left alone.

The next day, still thinking of my whirlwind romance with Sheike, I decided I needed to go back. I forgot all of my first date rules; I didn’t wait the three days to call and I took them home on the second date!

While not completely splurging, I needed to have a taste of the magical colours that were inside Sheike. I decided on an electric blue thin waist belt. It is beautiful. I love it. It is killing me that it is sitting inside the bag under my desk and it isn’t on me.

As the Wintergarden is Sheikes first store in Queensland I feel that it is yet to be tainted. Not everyone will know where my purchases are from (I plan to buy every piece of my working wardrobe from there from now on) until, they open their new store at the bogan equivalent of the Wintergarden, Westfield Carindale. But they really have succeeded in targeting the right market; while their main focus is obviously for the fashionable office worker, they have teamed this with cocktail and evening dresses perfect for weddings, engagements and corporate functions and events.

Best of all, unlike getting all slutty on a second date, I don’t have to worry about any repercussions like whether or not they will call me – I am thinking it more of a friends with benefits situation – one where I can call them anytime and am guaranteed satisfactory results!

Sorry, but..........

Samantha “Don’t hate me cos’ I’m beautiful” Brick really gave me the irks last week. And I sort of laid off the topic because I didn’t want to stir up any other beautiful women that might stumble across this blog. But, I think I need to put in my own two cents. 


 Like a lot of things, however much we deny it, it comes back to high school. I was in the pretty group in high school – there, I said it. We went to parties on weekends, were late to school most days and despite our blatant rebellion against school rules we had the teachers wrapped around our little finger. One thing we weren’t though were bitches . Nor were we stuck up, snobby or vein. And guess what? We weren’t hated either. We chaired school councils, organised fundraising events, and post year twelve, have been asked back to give talks to younger students. 


 Post-Samantha Brick it seemed a lot of other hated beautiful women sparked up and shouted their support – they were hated because they were beautiful too.


 Really? Another girl hated you because you are BEAUTIFUL? I am sorry, but I have a new girl crush every day. Scrap that, every hour. Women love beautiful women. My dad always told me in high school that women check out women more than men do and I always thought he was bonkers, until one day, I too started checking out other women. I don’t hate them – I want to stop them in the street and tell them they are beautiful, or ask what their beauty regime is. I want to tell them they have great style or ask where they get their hair done. Never have I seen a beautiful woman on the street and thought to myself “Gosh, I hate her”. I think that outlines substantially how much I love aesthetically beautiful women. This love for the aesthetics can change in a heartbeat however, if I learn that their beauty is not reflected in their personalities. 


And now to the more sinister side of the story, and one, I think we have all been dying to say. 


 Samantha, darling, women don’t hate you because you are beautiful on the outside, they hate you because you are ugly on the inside. 


 It seems ridiculous to me that an established journalist would make such unrealistic claims, especially in an industry that whether acknowledged or not, is very much based on ones beauty than brains. I think 


Samantha, and every other woman, should remember what our mothers said to us when we were little:


 We are all beautiful. 


 And if that one doesn’t fit: 


 Beauty is what is on the inside.

P is for Prevention, and pap smear...

I have been a proud and active member of The Australian Cervical Cancer Foundation for nearly four years. My relationship with the foundation has grown from an opportunity for me to add volunteering to my relatively thin resume as a first year university student to what I now consider a strong passion of mine. I don’t know whether it is irony, then, or incredible luck that I stumbled over ACCFs ad on my universities career portal because this morning, thanks to my education through ACCF, I was able to detect a precancerous cell on my cervix.

Irony and luck aside, I am extremely thankful that I was made aware and educated of the risks of cervical cancer and the importance of having regular pap smears. Fifty per cent of women diagnosed with cervical cancer have not had regular pap smears; I made a promise to myself four years ago to never be one of those women and luckily, because of my regular visits to my local GP, I am not.

Often when it comes to cancer, we hear stories of survival or sadly, serious illness and death. It is not often we hear of stories of prevention; for cervical cancer, this should be the only story we hear.

 I am twenty one years old, I am fit and healthy, I do not smoke, I have had few sexual partners and I engage in safe sex practices. This morning when called into my doctor to discuss an abnormal pap result, I was notified I have what is commonly known as CIN 2, a potentially premalignant transformation and abnormal growth of squamous cells on the surface of the cervix (thanks, Wikipedia). Engaging in none of the typical risk factors, it would be completely normal for me to think of myself as ‘safe’ against cervical cancer. But the thing is, nobody is safe against it – there is no sure way of knowing that you do not have cervical cancer other than visiting your doctor regularly for a pap smear.

 And there it is, I said it. Pap. Smear. Two words so frightening to so many young females that the topic is often skipped over or worse, blatantly denied. My pap smear took no more than five minutes; it was non-invasive and right now, it was the key to identifying the abnormality on my cervix and quite possibly preventing me from developing cervical cancer.

At the moment I know nothing about my case other than that it has been identified as a grade two cervical intraepithelial neoplasia. Without my pap smear, I would not even know that. While most of these cases can be eliminated by the body’s own immune system, a small percentage can turn into cervical cancer. Those five minutes of my time I spent in my doctor’s office two weeks ago, have ensured the detection of these abnormal cells and protected me from them developing any further.

So, this is my story. It is not brave, nor gallant and thank god, not filled with sadness or loss. It is also a reminder ladies, for the sake of five minutes where you might feel uncomfortable or awkward, it will save you the regret if you too, became one of the fifty per cent of females diagnosed with cervical cancer without a pap smear.

Please visit www.accf.org.au for my information about cervical cancer; it is the only cancer with a vaccination and methods to make it entirely preventable. Please visit their website and find out how you can help not only yourself but thousands of other women each year. 

<3