Voting Woes

I'm not a voting virgin - this will be my second time in voting at a federal election. However, I'm still sitting on the fence on which party I'm going to vote this weekend.

The electorate I live in is a safe Labor seat. Our local Labor candidate is no-where to be found. Their name doesn't spring to my mind immediately. It's embarrassing to admit that.

The Liberal candidate is charming, they've taken the time to mail us glossy brochures in the post - pointing out all the things the Labor's party has done wrong over its three year tenure. While they made the effort to campaign around our local area, something still bugged me.

Maybe it's to do with an event that unfolded a few weeks ago.

I was meandering through the streets of my home town, witnessing an elderly man scavenging the bin and finding a half-eaten pork roll. I decided to get some ice coffee and while I was there, a middle-aged lady with coffee-stained teeth and dandruff-infested hair served me.

I glanced at the poster which had a picture of a potential local candidate. It was hanging on the wall of the cafe. The lady smiled at me and said,
"You should vote for him this election. He's an Asian - only an Asian can understand the hardships we go through".

Digesting what she said, I replied, "Have you tried being Aboriginal?"

The lady had no answer to my question.

Who are you going to vote this election?

Happy reading!
5ft0

Black Love

Falling in love is a beautiful thing, your heart is in a flutter and thoughts of romance and happily ever afters float around your head, constantly.

However, when you've got the wrong end of the stick when it comes to love, you suddenly don't feel hungry anymore. You don't want to eat your favourite chocolate bar. Your ice cream scoop shaped cheeks are turning bright red. Underneath it all, you feel cold and stupid.

You start doubting yourself. Of course they've got a partner. Of course they have. I'm an idiot aren't I. I should've known there was another person in the picture.

To top it off, you've been patronised as well with the other person saying, "I'm sorry if I led you on. I didn't know I did that".

You stare at the person in silence. The feeling of mortification rises exponentially. Your throat tightens and there's pain hitting in your chest. You really feel like the most dumbest person ever. The person who got completely the wrong end of the stick. You were so stupid in thinking the other person may have had feelings for you.

You feel sick with humiliation. Then you start to be self-conscious how others see you. You're the silly person who didn't understand the difference between Brie and Camembert cheese. You're the person who didn't know Matt Preston from Masterchef wears cravats. Above all, you think you're the only person in the world where people won't take you seriously.

You don't like how you were being treated, so you stiffly stand up and defend yourself. Then before they can say anything, you run out of the room quickly, filled with disappointed tears.

When you arrive home, you feel weary and miserable. Real life sinks in. Home to a place where it still smells like burnt peanuts and piles of bills stacked on the kitchen bench. You call a friend up to distract yourself - you get hysterical if you should purchase a bag from Country Road or Mimco and how you're mystified that people find Justin Bieber talented.

You go to bed forgetting about the whole situation. Only to wake up the next morning, with all the memories rushing back to you like a scary movie. You wake up looking pale and unsteady and wishing you could take a sickie. You want to stay home and watch day time telly, but you don't. You go out and do your normal thing, just because you don't want to be swallowed by the sadness of the situation.

Happy reading,
5ft0

All that Glitters is Gold

Hands up if any of you have a collection of Little Golden Books on your bookshelf? I had a huge collection of them and my parents would read them to me before I drifted off to sleep. I hung onto these books like some of my other childhood stuffs - like my cabbage patch dolls and Ninja Turtle headbands. One day, my parents were tired of seeing these items choking up with dust and demanded "Clean up all your junk! Plus, we want you out of here when you finish your uni degree".

So I decided to rescue them and tidied up my bedroom. I spent the day re-reading and flicking through the books which I once loved. There were some stories I knew off by heart, like 'The Whispering Rabbit, 'The Poky Little Puppy' and the whole Sesame Street collection. That day, I counted how many Little Golden Books I have, they were 150.

I have to thank the Little Golden Books for a few things. I learnt how to count 1-10 through my 'My First Counting Book'. While sadly I still don't know how to add up the cost of a coffee and banana bread, I am grateful I know the numerical language. While the book titled, 'Old McDonald's Farm' helped me memorise the lyrics to that nursery, as well as seeing what a horse, pig, cow and sheep look like as well. This helped me with my later studies in agriculture.

I've never paid more than a couple of dollars for each one. Though I would like to have the twelve original Little Golden Books that were published in 1942. Right now, I just have 'The Poky Little Puppy' sitting on my shelf.

I still keep my Little Golden Books in my bookshelf. My little cousins, nieces and nephews have a ball when they come to the bookshelf - it's always a mess when they visit.

What Little Golden Books do you have sitting on your bookshelf? Or garage? Or anywhere around the house?

Happy reading,
5ft0

Monthly update, sadly it's true and what talents do you have?

I'm terrified returning to 5ft0 at the moment.

It's like she's going to scream at me for being a bad mum who's neglected her child in order to study for her end-of-semester exams. Or she's forgotten to give her baby her favourite drink, the humble orange juice.

She's got the right to yell, I've been neglecting this blog because I've been studying for my end-of-semester exams. I feel like in the last three weeks, the amount of white hairs on my head has increased by 200%.

Anyway, I promised to answer questions about myself and Siobhan here's your answer:

I can't imitate accents or people if my life depended on it. Hence, I would've made a bad comedian. My gorgeous little sister however, can imitate anyone she pleases and always tells me how bad I am.

I do have other talents, such as shopping and finding ways to get out of tight situations.

So now 5ft0s, I'll ask you a question: What talents do you have?

Happy reading!
5ft0

** More substantial posts will come soon!

Feel free to ask me anything!

As this is Friday, I'm thinking about the weekend ahead. It's a mixture of catching up on my law readings, writing essays, working and meeting up with my friends. I'll also be rescuing koalas from the cold weather and making a fool of myself.

The point here is:


Whether it is what I have for breakfast, to what my favourite movies are or you're curious as to how this blog came about - ask away. I'm not going to shy away from any of the questions you post. In fact, this could be fun!

This also serves me a great opportunity to procrastinate on my final law exams too.

Happy reading!
5ft0

Why do we hold ourselves back?

It’s human nature to hold ourselves back when we’re in a situation we haven’t encountered before. Or even worse, if we’ve been through a situation that’s gut-wrenching and we see similarities to the current situation, we don’t only hold ourselves back, we run. If we could buy a ticket to the Moon - we would head over there to run away from our troubles.

Holding back is a bit like a sailor anchoring their ship to a rock. He takes a rope, ties it securely to a rock, drops the rock into the water and the boat's anchored. The rock will hold the boat in place. It's easier than cooking two minute noodles.

The thought that water and the wind have an erratic personality doesn't cross the sailor's mind.

Then one night, a cyclone hits the coast of the beach. The wind is so strong, it causes the rock to drag across the sea bed by the boat. The sailor who naively believed the anchor would secure the ship now realises his mistake.

As humans, holding ourselves back is a defence mechanism. If we've been through poor past experiences, we will use these as lessons to avoid getting hurt in the future.

However, the more we hold ourselves back, the more we hinder ourselves from future prospects.

So why do we still hold back on our feelings if we're going to experience grief anyway?

Perhaps we just hate the thought of getting a negative outcome out of a situation. Maybe the idea of confronting someone is just too much to handle.

Or maybe letting go of who you are to become the person you will be scares you half to death.

Happy reading,
5ft0

I've Neglected Myself

I apologise for my absence during the month of April, this includes my friends, family and my great online readers. This year has been excruciating for me. For a long time, I've always put other people's needs before myself.

I didn't express my opinions about anything. Even simple things like "I don't want anchovies on my pizza" just because it was easier to go along with people, then getting a backlash due to my answer.

If there were tasks which had unrealistic deadlines, I'd complete the task straight away rather than telling my supervisor I couldn't handle the work load. I'd rather have duties piled on me than to admit I can no longer cope with the demands set on me.

I'd give up on my weekends to work, rather than admit I need a break - just because I was taught to think about others before yourself. At one stage, I had this idea that I could create more time. It's relentless. There never seems to be enough hours in a day. I wish there were eight days in a week. As a child, I wondered how there were never enough hours in a day and secretly wish I could extend time, just so I could complete tasks set out for me.

Then one day, I gave up being nice girl. Working and studying seven days a week took a toll on my health. I looked myself at the mirror, staring back at me was an image of a girl with red eyes, sunken cheeks and my usual sunny disposition was no where to be seen. I couldn't even pull myself to write or buy milk. I didn't have the energy to log onto my blog and type.

By neglecting this blog, I neglected myself. Attending to other people's needs before my own was something I was taught to do as a child. No one ever told me that it was fine to think about yourself once in a while. In fact, I was taught it was selfish to do so.

So from today, I'm slowly learning that it's fine that you can't complete the 1001 tasks set out by your supervisor. That it's fine to be vulnerable and ask for help support from your friends and family when I need it. And most of all, I learnt that it's not selfish to think for yourself every now and again.

Happy reading!
5ft0