Hi team,

Just developing a new blog at the moment so Project Lucky in its current format (haven’t decided about the name change yet) is being abandoned/ I’m fading it. Apologies for not updating you on this sooner.

What I would like from you is to get in touch with me via the blog or other ways with what you’ve liked and not liked about Project Lucky so that I can make the next blog even better.

At this stage I’m hoping to have my new baby up and running in the new year, giving me Christmas to plan it and New Years to get silly and improve those plans. See you in January!

If you need other blogs to follow in the meantime/my Christmas gift to you:

theyallhateus.com, awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com, other-wordly.tumblr.com, iloveyourstyle.com

Thanks, with love and peace,



Rather Be

It’s supposed to be summer here. But the gales are howling, the rain is running and there’s even been a tornado. It’s a horrible 19 degrees Celsius, that’s horrible because it’s not hot enough to wear shorts but not cold enough to wear actual winter clothes and every time I step outside the wind blows my hair and it sticks to my lipgloss which then leads to me trying to flick it off with my tongue because the feeling of lipglossed hair on fingers is really gross. Such as hassle.

I’ve been having a bit of a fantasy for the last few weeks about being holed up in a cottage in the English countryside. Wearing layers of clothing, rambling across paddocks, cosy fires and copious cups of tea. That way, I could just read and ramble and not actually have to do anything. Or I could become more consistent with writing a blog (now that would be a nice change wouldn’t it?).

Here’s what I’m thinking:

Off My Chest

I spent most of last Friday afternoon with my top off. No, it’s not a new day job or a new boyfriend, I was at the breast clinic. I got prodded, poked, groped, injected and questioned all in the name of medical discovery. I left with my dignity intact but my chest a little worse for wear.

Since then I’ve been thinking about breasts a lot. I have such a love/hate relationship with mine: I can have cleavage/I think cleavage looks slutty, I don’t need push up bras/I always have to wear a bra, they’ve got the attentions of some nice boys/they’ve got the attention of some not so nice boys. And then there’s just the bad things (for all of you who think bigger is better): no backless dresses, they hurt if you get hit, few pretty bras because they don’t make them that cute in my size and ditto (I found out this morning) for bikinis.

I don’t need to give any references to the blatant fact that, like the rest of the female body today, boobs are over-photographed, over-sexualised and over-scandalised for the benefit of a heterosexual male audience, but we still use them to our advantage. On the radio the other day women who used their cleavage to their advantage were asked to phone in and there were all sorts of stories: getting out of speeding tickets, getting service at bars, discounts at electronics stores. But us girls are also very attached to them, I’m a bit worried about getting mine hacked into because I’ll have a scar. I love my other scars, they’re reminders of good stories (and stupid mistakes) but I feel like it will be so… what’s the female version of emasculating?

As Julia Roberts said in Notting Hill (is that not the most quotable movie of all time?) “What is it about men and nudity? Particularly breasts? How can you be so interested in them?… What’s all the fuss about?” I don’t know but despite the awkardness of my pre-teen years and the trauma of bra shopping, I’m suddenly very protective of mine.

Hunters & Collectors

I used to collect stickers, you know, when sticker books were the fad of the nineties, I mean, for goodness’ sake, could you imagine giving someone stickers these days?? What did we do with them?

At the end of my sticker phase inherited a stamp collection which sits in a wooden box on my bookcase and looks accusingly at me for not doing anything with it – I haven’t added to the collection but I also haven’t sold it to a true stamp fan so that they may enjoy it. I don’t even look at it, it’s just there.

Now, I’ve realised, I collect words or phrases that we don’t have an English equivalent for, apparently they’re called ‘loan words’. You know, words that we’ve had to borrow from other languages because silly old English just isn’t proficient enough to provide us with simply the right, concise way to express what we mean. German does it well with compound words like zeitgeist and my personal favourite, schadenfreude and my study of French has given me an intense liking for déjà vu, ennui and l’esprit d’escalier (when you think of the perfect response/comeback after the conversation is over).

Here’s my latest, it’s Welsh and like it’s homeland, it’s a real beauty:

That’s exactly the word I’ve been looking for.

No Connection

It’s been a week of no blogging, no having fun, no lying in the recently emerged summer sun and no internet. Could my life possibly have been more disastrous??

That’s my brilliant excuse for not posting. No internet. I could’ve gone to uni and used the computers there but I felt that the oppressive halls of such a soul-sucking institution would do nothing for my creativity and besides, my head was so full of torts, trials and tribes that I couldn’t fit much in (limited capacity up there, ya hear?)

I thought I’d find it all refreshing, you know how they’re always saying that we need breaks from technology and people are always whinging about how they wish they could just “turn everything off”? In the summer, at the bach, great! internet, stay away. In my flat, all alone, abandoned by friends and flatmates alike as everyone was either studying or gone home already, I didn’t feel righteous or like I was doing something good for my soul or whatever, I just felt lonely.

I couldn’t see what my friends were up to on Facebook, I couldn’t go onto the page my friends and I have to send funny newsbites or pictures to each other, I couldn’t check my Viber, I couldn’t watch Suits online, I couldn’t even listen to the Downton Abbey soundtrack on Spotify. That was exponentially made worse by the fact that I was studying.

In short, I was forced by sheer boredom to entertain myself on my study breaks by watching Farmer Wants a Wife. Now I genuinely don’t feel that either the extent of my emotions nor the crux of that TV show need anymore elaborating on than that sentence.

Concert #1 The Black Keys

I rocked (haha) up in a backwards cap and red lippie feeling like someone from 1994 and looking more than a little lost while screeds of indie kids with their leather backpacks and girls wearing denim shorts hanging onto skinny boys with slugs across their upper lips who looked far too sexually confused to be into them (the girls that is, not their mo’s), skulked about.

The opening act, were saved by their good looks and Aussie charms, clearly off their faces and I had that sad feeling like when you watch spazzy kids at ballet concerts that this really isn’t their life calling and they should go and get proper jobs. It was like they’d heard The Checks and were trying to be an Australian version. Not so good.

Then promptly (a sure fire way to get brownie points) at 9.30pm, The Black Keys took to the stage. It was a magical hour and a half. Because I haven’t actually heard their new album I was a bit apprehensive but they probably showed off more oldies (to my liking) than newies. For two guys they sure can make a lot of noise and when they had back up it only got better. The Black Keys were so genuine about the whole thing and focused on the music with just a wee bit of banter. The crowd was super responsive, which always makes me proud and the whole stage setting was well-designed and a bit different. They even played my favourite song (Ten Cent Pistol) that I thought was a bit too obscure for a big gig like this.

I couldn’t hear properly for the next two days but that’s ok because the sound of tracks like Everlasting Light and Howlin’ For You were ringing in my ears.

Coldplay tonight…

America Decides

Dear Citizens of the United States of America, (I’m not sure if you are actually ‘dear’ to me, we will see how today goes)

So, it’s November 6 for you today huh? I hear that’s pretty important. I hear there’s things thing you’ve gotta go and do today, you know, like, vote. Well, in true ‘nation of the free’ fashion you probably don’t have to do anything, becuase that would be a disaster if you were actually forced to do something. You know, like sort out your healthcare system, or make moves towards gay marriage or end a war. Oh wait, you don’t have to do that becuase Obama already has. That’s right, he’s already improved your nation and begun to pull it out of the Republican mess of the Bush Administration, but that’s just it, he’s only had the chance to begin.

Obama has given us, the rest of the world, such gems as actually being able to string a sentence together, actually having worked hard, from the bottom up to get to where he is, actually capable of making moves for the long term, to set the USA up for the next generation, not the next four years. He’s not afraid to do the big tasks, like Healthcare reform and he’s not afraid of making the right moral decisions. He’s given you a leadership that has made the world turn its faces back to you with some respect, instead of cringing. Four years in a system like the States’ is nothing, especially when there are such big changes that need to be made.

So, for the sake of the respect of your international peers, and the good of the world at large, especially where war is concerned, please America, just as a wee favour from you. Do your homework and vote for change, but for the change that’s already happening, give the babe another four years.

Peace. (Not love, because  don’t feel we’re there yet)


America, you can do it!

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