Fluid Opinions

My happiness lies in treading on thin ice, rock jumps in to lakes, snowboarding, exercising and scuba diving. It lies in the smiles of platonic loves, shared meals and bad jokes. My life is an exquisite cocktail of rash decisions, fluid opinions, hugs, selfishness then self-reflection, long stares in to the mirror with silence as a sole companion, vanity, a touch of insanity, self-loathing and self-appreciation. The teetering balance between false confidence and a plethora of insecurities tenuously calibrated by compliments and self-criticism is a constant cohort.   My drive is the positive aura’s emanating from the kind souls around me, that I try not to leech or drain too much from and intentionally surround myself with. My motivation is to achieve difference but not influence negatively, not to be remembered but to ostracize myself from over consumption, gluttony and greed. My many failings at accomplishing this are responsible for my long silences and intentional inebriation to dull an inexplicable sensitivity to the futility of our reality.

Despite my alcoholic tendencies happiness comes rather easily to me, neurochemicals like dopamine and serotonin that I am inexplicably lucky to have in abundance.  This comes partly from my lack of future planning. Every day I live is one where I might die tomorrow, giving me a convenient excuse to push boundaries, test limits, abandon the status quo and break free of the prison that is modern society. This has inadvertently affected friends around me negatively and for that I am sorry.

To quote Tim Minchin we are incalculably lucky to be born, and incredibly lucky to be brought up by a nice family that facilitated our education and provided food and shelter. If we have this sort of luxury and choose to be bitter anyway, then that’s a special sort of insecurity. We all kill ourselves for jobs that would replace us in a day if we were to die tomorrow. We feel secure in the fact that this is normal, however taking a holiday over three weeks long is considered abnormal. Our opinions are our great definers, and we should constantly examine the concept of what is normal and adapt it. My morals change like seasons to encompass long-haul flights that allow me to indulge in travelling, attend festivals and sports arenas and contribute to the commercially driven polar bear starving, ocean plastic saturation that I despise. I struggle to meet my own expectations, so I am non-judgmental of others in all of these regards. I am the essence of hypocritical in that I believe in my heart all of this but cannot impact the world in any of the ways I would like. I just wanted to write, to vent into the void as the majority of my opinions are unpopular and as such upsetting to "normal people". So I hide them away here, in a tiny corner of the 1200+ petabytes of data on the internet among all the boobies. 

Accidentally Too Cancun

When the holiday started off with the plane touching down on the runway and people clapping I thought it a bad omen, I mean what sort of people was I going to be in Mexico with...? I'm glad we didn't see any shiny objects to gawk at on the ground as we were leaving.

1 point down on Smashton's travelling point system (rules vary at discretion/as this post progresses).

Next was customs which was a breeze cause I look like an innocent 15 year old girl travelling on her own.

1 point up.

Then I stood next to my mate for a good hour at the airport as apparently we both didn't recognize each other.

1 point up for looking so damn different (hopefully better not worse)
1 point down for being a twat

So on even legging in the points system I went to my hotel in a vastly overpriced cab and started chatting and catching up with the eldest Markwell child from my hometown, reminiscing of false womanizing and bending stories out of shape so that they were larger than life. The dry Markwell wit started to bring a smile to my face that would become a regular fixture in the three days to come. The terrible advice on women ensued also, Markwell little understanding that his moves were trash and that it is only his ridiculous jawline and handsome features that gain him credibility with la chicas.

At the hotel waiting was the youngest Elliot! After not catching up in 7 months the reunion was class!!! I was ecstatic to see her again as her positivity is as infectious as Lil Wayne and her smile as addictive as the TV Series New Girl. Already I was starting to feel my spirits lift from the mediocre level that a winter of deep snow and zero sunshine in Toronto had induced. We caught up as much as we could as my stay was only for 3 days and my flight in a few days time was looming as a stark reminder that we had to cram as much fun in to the short time as possible. The hotel was an incredible All Inclusive affair with beach access from the rear and a jaw dropping view at sunrise.

The staff were friendly, although not too appreciative of my broken Spanglish. My attempts to communicate were mainly just saying hi and ordering cocktails. I became fluent in bar Spanglish, although got called a little bitch/pussy regularly for wanting diet coke with my rum (so that no one rolled me over on the beach mistaking me for a white whale the next day).

The first night was when I started drinking.

A little advice if you are staying at the Occidental Tucancun. Don't get accidentally too Cancun.

Life blended in to a short day of catching up with old friends and making new ones, strengthening relationships and testing the newly forged bonds with typical Australian idiocy.

On the fourth day I woke up still in Mexico. Having last minute decided to miss my flight, I woke up with the first hangover of the trip on the morning after my transit home and instantly regretted my decision. There is always that one fool on vacation who re-books and stays longer
or gets too sunburnt
or drinks too much.

Turns out I did all three.

The regret didn't last long when I realized I got the opportunity to catch up with Master Markwell and Missy Elliot a bit more. Till then Markwell had been loved up with a chica who checked out the same day I (decided) to stay for longer.

Thankfully the next few days were a little bit more casual. A couple of Pina Coladas and some more sun made sure I was proper lobster but grinning from ear to ear with tingling endorphin's. After hatching a few more harebrained ideas with Missy Elliot and discussing our next catch up wherever, I was super thankful when it came time to catch the flight home.

Reeking of body odor from having only three changes of clothes on a trip where I stayed 6 days out of the 3 days I had booked, I tormented the passengers beside me on my return trip.

Arriving home feeling delicate and emotional, I was glad to be back in Toronto and even happier to shower and put on clean clothes after.

Toronto summer is peeking around the corner, with the snow showers occurring less frequently and rarely sticking to the ground. I am definitely looking forward to the sunshine after having a good hit of it in Mexico. Despite the trip having no culture other than drinking, I felt positive and happy once more, my old Australian/New Zealand/England/Toronto summer self.

Turns out I just needed a holiday.

Fact: Don't get accidentally too Cancun translates roughly in to English as Never go full retard. 

Stylish kids in the riot

Travelling feels like a full time job. The emotions you get out of meeting different people and seeing different things, while in comparison to a desk job are mostly positive, can be uplifting as well as taxing at the same time. I’m now coming to an end of my Melbourne era, and while it was "gammon budddd" in some respects, I’ve found yet another group of friends that have hugely impacted my life in the most positive way I could imagine. Throughout my five years away from home, there have been a number of different groups of friends that have all massively improved my life, from the first group of Aussies I met in Nomads in Queenstown, who taught me privacy is for those with their own rooms, to the Irish for a year who taught me how to Guinness race as well as the happier side of drinking and how to sail like a pro (in good old Jason Darulo) Then there was the Scottish who worshiped the sun more than the Ancient Greeks, knew the importance of body image balanced with a healthy serving of Jager Bombs and pints. The South Americans who taught me how to appreciate general company as family, friends as dear loved ones and easily the best BBQ’s anywhere in the world, Aus does not even come close! Next came the English who showed me both the grime and shine of Manchester, from the best night life I’ve experienced anywhere in the world, to the most pretentious swank I’ve ever tried my hand at (and failed miserably, 20 pound old fashions almost bankrupt me).  

It’s been the French in Melbourne who have made smiles come easy. Coming from a world appreciated music scene like Manchester back to anywhere in Australia is never easy, and St Kilda certainly had different styles to offer than what I was expecting. I chose Melbourne specifically as I thought it would be a good transition city back in to Aussie culture, as it has got a multitude of European aspects. Having broken up with a long time girlfriend and obviously still having feelings where she had none, I had to try avoid the mainstream St Kilda scene (as fun as it was), as that was her domain. Instead I sank my teeth in to the warehouse scene with le copains, which provides just a taste of Manchester but with a lot more short shorts and a lot less Air Max and skinny jeans (in the summer at least). 

So the next step for me is home, to catch up with the first group of friends I’ve had, see one of my best mates get married to the girl I introduced him to on New Year’s Eve so many moons ago. After that, my fingers are crossed for my Canadian visa, sitting there in the application pool taunting me. I’m thirsting for my fourth country of residence in three years. Although having a bunch of different countries of residence is a pain, especially when applying for visas and having to get Police Certificates from all the different places. But hey, travelling feels like a full time job.  After Canada, who knows, I’m almost TEFL qualified now and might head to South America to teach English, so pretty soon some Columbians or Peruvians might be answering your thankyou’s with “No drama, banana farmer.” Looking back on my last five years, I can write a letter to my 16 year old self. The boy who wanted to live in New Zealand because of Lord of the Rings, England because of Castles and Canada because of the cold. I can tell that little nerd that years down the line two of those he’s crossed off, and a third is on the cards, although all the agenda has changed, the places are still the same. I can happily say that even though my Superannuation/KiwiSaver (401k) is telling me to die at 42, I’m enjoying every last moment of my life at this point in time.

“Did you seen the stylish kids in the riot, shovelled up like muck, set the night on fire”

Ready for the Afterglow

So today I was thinking to myself, what's changed in the near three years I've been in Queenstown? The answer was simple.

Nothing. That's why I'm still here.

Shoulder season is just transitioning into a fully fledged, full grown, adult only summer. As per QT's usual form a bazillion people have left and a bazillion and one have arrived. I've made so many good new contacts/acquaintances/notches on my bedpost (the last one is obviously a lie), that I can't help but smile as I drive the van through town and see everybody chilling under the sun.  Work's becoming harder and harder simply because my home life is becoming more and more fun, the contrast just makes a day's solid slog for minimal remuneration seem less appealing. But if we all loved work then the world wouldn't have any emo's, and a world without emo's sounds terrible to me. So I keep my head down and graft away.

My weekends have been jam packed with Smashton tailored activities lately. Golfing for ole Andy Mac's birthday was probably one of my favourite Saturday's in a month, and races on Sunday the 1st of December was incredible as I managed to win $230 up on the horses. Let's not forget my umpteenth trip to Little Thailand for a big old jump in to the freezing lake to eradicate a nasty old hangover. Subsequent to that was an afternoon spent at Moke Lake playing footy, throwing Frisbee's, swimming and generally just having the best hangover day I've ever had in my life.

Townsville, I know I change my mind more than a pregnant woman in an argument, but it looks like QT has pulled a Bangkok. Queenstown has him now.

So I'll see ya when I see ya, which better be when your sorry bums come visit. I'll host the panties offa ya.

ILML

Legends to the left of me, rhombus to the right.

RIP Sydney Street residence. A whirlwind of two years in the same house has steadily dissipated and Saturday the 14th saw my two housemates and I elbow deep in grime. A good 8 hours of cleaning and booooooom, all our bond is back. 

The change of scenery is pleasant, I'm staying at some champs house temporarily. Getting put up until the room I'm moving in to is free. Legend to the left of me. 

The move was pretty poorly timed though, work has been fisting me furiously lately. Three of the staff are off on month long or longer holidays, and a nice old electrical storm decided to knock out a few of the main radios in town. Fixed those suckers like I was a vet and they were dogs testicles. Crisis neuteralized.

Was out again on Saturday night, hadn't been out in a little while. I think it was the busy work week that put me in a going out mind frame. Went down for some mean as steaks at Atlas, sunk a few pilsners and then checked out a few new bars that had opened up. The Powder Room had a lot less cocaine than its name implied, so Vinyl Underground was next on the hit list. A few shots later and the room which should have been square started to tilt. Rhombus to the right.

Other than that, I've been trying to keep things on the down low. Attempting to save money. Just being boring. Short old blog post tonight then.

"If I believe in Heaven I deny myself a death, dying keeps me conscious of the way I waste my breath." - Cosmo Jarvis

As the light spills out

Spotify has changed the way I live my life, every new day has a new soundtrack that matches my highs and lows. I fall asleep each night with a new song trickling in to my ears (and wake up soon after with the head phones wrapped around my throat.) So damn peaceful.

Hillman aka Chicken was over for a visit. Got some decent snowboarding done on the first day with him, sun shining, soft mushy snow. Beautiful weather for park riding.  The next day was a little more dreary, but still decent snow up Remarks. The third day we made the mistake of going to coronet, which was simply terrible. I got so bored with riding the concrete tracks they call snow that I went off hiking to find a jump.  That was about when James and I fell about fifty feet down a sheer icy slope that felt more like glass with some water and oil sprinkled over it. Poor old James went flying off down past the barrier which had massive warning signs on it saying, DANGER - NO SKI PATROL AREA. Somehow we managed to clamber back up by jumping up to grass patches and grabbing a hold of them until we got back to the path.  Once there we went and ate lunch in silence, brooding over our shared life experience.

Also recently in the life of Ashton was a pub crawl. Butt loads of fun, and loads of fun butt. First drink was at 2:30pm down the old courthouse, 1876. We took a photo in each pub to follow, with the pictures steadily containing more red eyes and drooping stances. After a few too many beersies, my usual drunken smile was frozen permanently on my stupid drunken face. When 5:30am rolled around it was time to leave the pubs, and where better to go next then with some random stranger up on to the rooftops to run around like crazy adolescents? Leaping around from roof to roof like intoxicated ninjas looking like ducks with no feathers trying to fly. Our misadventures finally leading us in to a backpacker through the top balcony, where we practised a guitar we found and then ran off into the rising sun to get some shut eye.

After my spontaneous inebriated parkour it was a pleasant change of pace to work down at Milford Sound for a couple of days.  With the boss flashing his credit card around paying for food, beverage and accommodation we headed off at 5:45am Wednesday morning, which saw us miles away from anywhere by the time the sun started to rise. The clouds hung in droves just above the jagged mountain peaks, creating a giant scar in the heavens through which the golden sun blared, spilling out like molten blood. As the fiery orb rose its light reached out and touched the clouds, turning them insane pinks and purples. Milford was a great little escape, but work took up most of the time and soon enough I was back in Queenstown. Back to my monotony. Back to routine. Man I need a tropical holiday...

Ears Bleeding Out

My life is a soundtrack and I wake up everyday with fresh vibes. My mind is packed full of erratic thoughts, and my cognitive process is starting to blur the lines between reality and the bizarre. Work is taking over my life, I dream about it and then have to live the real thing for 8 hours every day.

Off the subject of work, I've been trawling the less travelled recesses of the internet for a song I heard on George FM a few months back. Just came back to me randomly as I was walking to work yesterday morning, so I googled the lyrics. Only problem was the lyrics are, da da da da da da da da da da da da da da da, do do do do do do do do do do do do do, ba ba ba ba.. yeah you get the point. Anyhow, I challenge any of you sons of anarchy to google those lyrics and find the song like I did. Took me a good three hours of listening to every shite song that has da's, do's, ba's, nyehs or anything like that in the lyrics. Once I did find it I listened to it once and that was me sick of it again. For any peops interested in a really random tune that reminds me of a few months back, here it is. I'm not even sure I really like it. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOMe-8Tf1Y0 ) It's a pretty annoying tune when I think about it, but it was just something that past Ashton really wanted to listen to in his stubborness. Jerk. Wasted three hours of my life I could have been trawling through even darker recesses on the interwebs...

Anyboob, I just had a few mates from Townsville show up in QT a few weeks back and totally make my night. Had a few bevvies with them and then went home and passed out like I was shot by a cannon ball, in the face, from a yard away, by twelve cannons. This week I was meant to have another mate visit but seeing as he's from Townsville he waited to get to the airport before checking/finding out when his visa expired. WINNER WINNER, NO FRIENDS FOR WINTER.

In other news, I've been knocking in goals on the weekend playing soccer as well. 3 in 3. Pity I only ever manage to score on the pitch. AM I RIGHT?

Snowboarding is stalemating for me. I'm at that stage where I'm too chicken to push my limits. With self preservation in mind I've not been hitting any of the bigger features in the park. :( I will one day, I'm slowly getting back to that stage of just hating life every Sunday morning when I wake up and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to have 15 jager bombs and spend all my food shop money in one night. One day I'll loathe myself enough to chuck my body off a cliff with a board strapped to my feet. 

Also, got a black eye the other day. I looked hard as sin for a week, so I swaggered around town in a manner that almost got me a second black eye. Shitttchyeer. I'm tuff as m8. Don't wanna mess wiv me. xox, lolkthnxbi.  But sometimes that's just the way it goes, mother flipper I fight fire with volcanos. 

Well enough word vomit from a very bored Ashton, this really is not a good blog post but at least I know my mum will have read it.

LOVE CHOO MUMSIE. 

Peace errebody.