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The adventures and struggles of a petite, geeky journalist-in-training living in New Zealand.
It’s the first time I’ve worn anything backwards on purpose. This tunic seems sexier when worn back to front, although it would look infinitely better if I didn’t have to layer that long-sleeved merino t-shirt underneath. However, it’s cold. It’s winter, and I’m getting depressed by all those lovely summer fashion spreads in the magazines and fashion sites because I can’t wear any of the stuff they’re talking about! (Stares dolefully at essential ugg-style slippers.)
I’ve been feeling more confident about going sans make-up lately. It’s not that my skin has improved, because it hasn’t, but I guess that I’m too lazy to wash it off afterwards and because I realize that sometimes, it’s good not to wear a mask to hide who you really are. The truth is, we all wear masks to some extent. I try to get through the day giving off the image of someone who is sensible, mature and intelligent. Well, I believe I’m intelligent, although sensible and mature don’t seem to come into play quite as often as is acceptable.
I’m a dreamer, not a sensible person, and according to some people, I’m also emotionally immature because I’m not prepared to pair up with a mate, settle down and reproduce. No sir, and no madam, but I’m not even thinking about reproduction until I’m in my thirties. There’s too much left undone. I want to explore the world, to see beyond the shores of this tiny little island country I live in, and experience at least one culture from every continent. I want to write a book, get published, see fashion shows. Settling down, getting married and having children would be like putting a bit in my own mouth, fastening my own bridle, and tightening the girth of my own saddle. I’m not ready to be broken in yet. I’m still wild, still young, and I still wanna be free.