So I graduated on Tuesday night. That is me in the picture to your left. Yes I wore a very heavy gown and that funny little hat. Yes I got to shake some old dude's hand (a.k.a - the Chancellor) and yes my parents inundated me with a million photographs.
All in all it was a long, slow ceremony and I pretty much couldn't wait to leave. To make matters worse I didn't even score a free cookie or apple juice that was included in my graduation fee! RIP OFF! I blame it on the nanas!
Any who, so I now have a piece of paper with my name and the word 'journalism' on it. 3 years of study, thousands of dollars later and I am nothing but jobless.
Well not technically, but I wouldn't consider my grocery scanning job as 'real' or 'fulfilling'.
So, I guess my point is, why let so many people into uni, take their money and then hand them pieces of useless paper so that it's only use is to hang pretty on the study wall?
We all know the media/arts/entertainment industry is about whom you know, and above all luck, but I wish someone told me before I undertook this degree that finding a job would be near impossible. There is not much left to say at this lonely self reflecting moment of mine, but if you're some ultra powerful rich dude, with a bazillion contacts and you can pretty much move the stars, give me a holla. Until then, Merry Christmas. I hope Santa accidentally leaves an extra sack of presents in your lounge room by mistake. Oh the joys of luck.

The time was 1am. The night was technically over, but for the sake of this blurb, I will say it was Friday Night. I was sitting with my girl pal Kelly in our contemporary Flinders Lane apartment in Melbourne. We had just devoured a beautiful Italian feast on Lygon Street and had aimlessly wandered the city streets before retiring to our beds for much needed sleep. While taking off my mascara I decided to turn on the TV. Rage was on. A song by a mysterious woman by the name of Cat Power, a gorgeous brunette was seen on the screen. Kelly remarked with none other than "Oh my gosh she's beautiful'. I couldn't agree more. Not only was her voice angelic, her presence was enough to make you want to reach out and touch the screen. She was singing to a song called "Lived in Bars'. For 3 minutes I was mesmerized by this women. To hear her music check out her myspace or youtube one of her performances. She is a rare form of beauty; something this world needs to see more of.

Tegan and Sara are coming to Australia. When I found this out I was more than excited. I was ridiculously excited. I must have been hiding under a rock when the sisterly duo came out in February of this year . . . but my prayers have been answered and they have returned, just for me (or so I like to tell myself). It's funny when reading interviews about the girls, many of the interviewers like to refer to their sexuality. It's true, they are both lesbians but are very comfortable about it. The thing that amazed me though is I was in love with their music for over two years without even knowing this 'fact'. They want to be known for their music, not for which way they swing. Their music is raw, it's detailed, and it connects with those who let it, even if they don't understand its intended meaning. Tegan and Sara are somewhat hidden gems. You can see them shining next month promoting their new album The Con, stopping for gigs in Fremantle, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. Rest assured if you're at the Sydney gig, somewhere in the front seating section, you will be seeing me. I will be the one with their tee-shirt on, singing loudly and proudly and 'woooooo-ing' for a prolonged period of time at the end of every song! Oh Bless <3

So Christmas is descending upon us faster that we can snap a candy cane in half! I don't know about you, or her or the little one... but I am just not ready for this overwhelming time. I work in a supermarket part - time to help fund my studies. I have experienced 3 consecutive festive seasons in a row as a 'check - out - chick'! Not only do people go jolly mad for hams, chocolate coated almonds and fruit cake, they also go crazy for maxing out their credit card, running into the backs of my legs with a shopping trolley and abusing me once they get to the checkouts, as the poor sods have had to wait in line for 10 whole minutes! Sorry my love, but this is a supermarket. This is the place everybody flocks to to buy a trolley load full of sweets to devour in one single day and then feel disgustingly sick the next. This is Christmas time. A time when carols play like a broken record and when parking at your local Westfield's is as hard as winning the lottery.
As a 4 year old child, Christmas time was almost as amazing as my birthday. I would cut up carrots for the reindeer's and leave Santa milk and cookies on Christmas Eve. Now, thanks to the rat race, the economy and greed of human kind... Christmas is no longer about giving. People who are not Christian celebrate Christmas because Woolworths and Myer celebrate Christmas. To me Santa is now just a myth to make kids want 'stuff'. Useless meaningless stuff. It is more than likely that the reindeers have caught the horse flu as well. A petrol fueled sleigh is no longer an option either as rising oil prices make us wish we all still rode in carriages! I am not sure who I am angry at here. But I'll go with this one: Thank you' supermarket' for making me loathe Christmas and the fat jelly belly that comes with it!

If you love being immersed in and surrounded by creativity, then you will  feel right at home at Fashique presented by the notorious Ruby Rabbit. Fashique is a night dedicated to helping creative souls become noticed and exposed in an industry that survives on passion rather than money! You'll be able to admire art works hanging from the walls, listen to the latest beats, and watch models strut their stuff on the staircase catwalk. Fashique will be going off with a bang this Wednesday night the 21st of November from 8pm for a cheap $15 a pop! Summer Heights High is no longer a valid reason to stay home on a Wednesday night, so wriggle off the couch, dress to impress and help support those who try to make sense of this crazy world!

Have you ever wondered just how much you're worth? Ever felt like putting yourself on the human market? Well click here to take a highly reputable quiz to find out just how much you're worth. HUMANFORSALE will attempt to calculate your assets based on your age, height, looks, educational attainments and your average yearly income. But they don't stop there! They will also determine your worth by taking into consideration your IQ, whether you give to charity, whether you entertain yourself using adult content and of course, the most important question of all, what bra size do you take? This website informed me that I am worth just over 2.3 million dollars! Shocked? Not so much. So if I happened to sell myself off to who - knows - who, I, in turn could buy myself a nifty little sports car, a house on the bay, and sport a Chanel bag off each arm. But I will sadly have no personality, freedom of speech, choice or simply just a life in return for my humanly bodily being.

Have you ever wondered where fast-food joint KFC get their chickens from? If you answered animal cruelty farms then you'd be correct.  According to PETA this multi-national fast food chain was responsible for killing over 850 million chickens last year and most chickens were "scaled to death in feather removal tanks and had their throats slit while they were still conscious". To help campaign against this inhumane cruelty of chickens join the peta2 street team here and win yourself a limited edition "Evil Colonel Sanders" bobble-head pen. You can even use it to write a serious letter of complaint to this cruel company.