elephants are kindly but they're dumbbbb

Here are a bunch of photos I took at the zoo way back in January and never got around to posting.


I feel like I'm stuck in an awkward phase between childhood and adulthood. Some days I spend cuddled up with fluffy blankets and stuffed toys, calling my mum at work for a pick-me-up chat. Other days I spend running to and from work, running errands, running home for a shower between outings, running out of time. I'm trying to find the balance.

As a teenager, I lived a very sheltered life. My school friends weren't the types to go to wild parties of underage drinking and to be honest, neither was I. Now, at twenty, I find myself lounged on an almost stranger's bed, staring at the ceiling as my vision goes blurry and sharp and blurry and sharp all at once and my face is tingling and people are talking but I don't know what they're saying and I wonder how I got here. I just want to be in my own bed, snuggled up with Pooh Bear. I can't find the balance.

And then I'm trying to impress older guys. Look at me! my lipstick screams. I'm not just a silly little girl! But I totally am, and I realise this as I call my mum to pick me up because I can't handle life for another second without a cuddle. She asks why I'm crying and I say I don't know and the saddest part is it's the truth.

It's my day off and I make plans to feel better. I write a list and everything. Sleep, it says. Washing. Lie in le sun like a cat. Have a good cry. Make something. It's 12pm and I haven't done a single thing on the list.

I haven't taken my camera out for a play in a very, very long time.

the hydrangea fairy.

When I was younger I had a yellow cardboard shoebox hidden in the overgrown grass beside the swing. I used it to send letters to the fairies at the top of my garden. They always wrote back. It was usually silly little comments, like how school was doing and how I should play nice with my brother. To be honest, it didn't matter what the letters said; I was just happy to be getting mail. (I'm twenty years old and still feel the same way.)

In some ways the fairies were my first friends. From a very early age, I spent a lot of time holed up in my imagination, making daisy chains with tiny winged people and sleeping in silky hammocks pegged underneath mushrooms. I guess I have carried my love of those imaginary friends throughout my life. I mean, hey, my Pinterest username is fairiies. I don't plan to let go.

Last week, in the midst of a midnight beach adventure, conversation turned to birthdays. My twenty-first is coming up, surprisingly quickly. (I'm at the point in my life where all I do is go to 21st parties.) Dress ups are fun, aren't they? Do you want me to tell you about how I wasn't allowed to go trick or treating and so I wrapped myself in a bright green curtain (I do wonder about that curtain sometimes), pretending to be a crocodile, and wriggled around the house? Point is, dress ups are fun. The last fancy dress party I went to was last Christmas and it was Gatsby themed. Pretty bloody awesome, if I may say so myself.

I bought the top shown below in my most recent online shopping binge. The sequins are actually much more colourful than they look in the picture. It's basically me down to a T. In my wardrobe are the fairy wings I got from this year's Easter show. All I need now is a tulle skirt. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Yeah. I want to throw a fairy-themed 21st.

top from boohoo, hair wreath from sweetlittlesparrow @ etsy

Just imagine all the glittery things I could use as decoration! And the fairy bread! The invitations! Holy crap I'm so excited.

(Sad story: Eventually the fairies stopped replying. Mum said rats or possums had chased them away. It wasn't until many, many years later that I realised the resemblance between my fairy replies and mum's shopping list. End of childhood.)