I am an artiste

   So I've basically been spending the past month or so in Dunedin, staying at a place with no internet whatsoever because some dickhead stole the router a while ago.

   What do you do with a laptop but no internet?

   Paint.

   Enjoy these lovely artworks I made for you. Because I care.

   Warning: there may be some naughty words ahead.

Evolution in Action

Go Sit in the Naughty Corner and Think About What You've Done

True Love

Look Guys I Made Some Art (It says fuck, by the way. Very profound.)

This Ferret Only Has Three Legs

Fabulous at any Size

Mr Mayonnaise

Poptarts: A Review

   In the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the ocean, is a small nation consisting of several islands, called New Zealand (or Aotearoa if you would like to be politically correct) which has an abundance of sheep, super slow internet, and now L&P flavoured white chocolate, which kinda tastes like you left the orange in your lunchbox next to your white chocolate bar and now they taste a little like each other but not in a good way, plus it has popping candy in it because the L&P drink, for all my foreign readers, is carbonated.

What has this got to do with anything? Well, living in a small island nation in the middle of nowhere (slightly south of Australia, in fact) we don't have anything. At all. It all has to come from here (hence L&P and sheep) or be imported, which makes everything really really expensive. If you're lucky. If companies even want to export to a tiny island nation in the middle of nowhere. I'm looking at you, Hostess. When twinkies went extinct, we didn't even know about them.

This also makes it a huge novelty when something the rest of the world takes for granted, (say, Doritos, actually fast broadband, and of course, Poptarts) becomes finally available here.

And yes kiwis, Poptarts are now available in New Zealand.

Poptarts are a breakfast food, apparently. So's anything you eat in the morning though, be it cereal, pancakes, or sheep's eyeballs. But I digress. I knew Poptarts were sugary and unhealthy. But upon actually trying one, I have come to one conclusion: Poptarts are the closest that New Zealanders can get to finally having candy for breakfast. And it being legit.

It's practically all the food groups: sugar, fat, and pink.

Holy ever loving fuck are Poptarts sugary.

So in vaguely related news, I've been in Dunedin for the past month or so, and one person I've been seeing plenty of is the lovely, and very American Gareth McMullen.

You know.  The one who keeps submitting all the titty pics and dick jokes to this blog.

He described Poptarts as being as if Jesus, both Queen Elizabeths, Buddha and the third emperor of Mexico were all to have a gang bang in your mouth: you aren't quite sure if it's good or bad but at the very least, it's an interesting and memorable experience. With a description like that, we definitely needed to make that trip to the supermarket so he could take my Poptart virginity. Pop my cherry flavoured Poptart if you will. We chose cherry flavoured because those and the wildberry ones were the only flavours left, as most of Dunedin had discovered the novelty of this new product already, despite the exorbitant price. ($10 for a box, daylight robbery!)

We skipped home. We put the Poptarts in the toaster. I put the Poptart in my mouth. I instantly developed type 2 diabetes.

It was kinda like an artificially flavoured cherry-filled cookie with sickeningly sweet pink icing that was still warm from the toaster. My mind was not blown. Neither Queen Elizabeths were gang banged in my mouth. It wasn't unpleasant (if a little too sugary) but it didn't really live up to the hype either.

New Zealand: this is my recommendation to you. Don't waste your money on Poptarts, you will probably be disappointed and seriously man you could buy several bags of Doritos with the $10 you didn't spend on Poptarts. Remember when we first got Doritos here? And how excited you were? Those things are still fucking tasty.

Or have a salad and go for a jog, you know. To each their own.

Shameless self promotion and other ways you can stalk me if you so desire

Sometime ago I made myself a twitter account. I posted from it... once? I think? I have no idea what to do with it because most of what I have to say takes up more than 140 characters and anything else that's witty enough goes on Facebook where people like my statuses to validate my existence. I think I'm following Dave Grohl on Twitter and maybe a couple more people but its pretty pointless as I never go on. If someone can explain to me how I should be using this Twitter thing and I get into it I'll post a link on here sometime.

   Tumblr. I didn't get that for the longest time either. Except now I do. And you should follow me, because I post pretty things and everyone loves pretty things. Rats and Rock n Roll is my personal tumblr, it has cool stuff and pretty stuff and only the occasional selfie, and you can totally ask me anything. 

   If art's more your thing (it is mine) then you can follow my art tumblr which has all my drawings, or my Facebook page for my art. I haven't really talked about it much on here but it's something I've been doing seriously for the last year or so and it's my "real job" (which, by the way kids, is a bad idea, because artists make very little money.) My work is pretty abstract and has lots of eyes and trees and rainbows, plus I also do a lot of portraits and commission work. Here's a link to my deviantart if that's your thing.

   Anyway, apologies for the link spam, and to make up for it, here's a kitten.

"Why? Because I'm fluffy, that's why."

Depression Part 2: Yes, I'm aware that I have hair, can we please talk about something else now

   So after that little breakup with Scott, I may have promised you a little series of "Adventures of a Single Girl" in which I would document all the wonderful fabulous things I was doing because I'm a strong independent woman who don't need no man because I'm too busy going off and doing my own thing all the time. And would you look at that, I haven't updated Adventures at all since that promise. Why is that?

DING DING DING DING DING. Your answer, "Bellez is a sad pathetic loser" is absolutely correct!  Your prize: this shitty drawing.

   And then I went and proved it to you by writing that little thing about how I'm miserable but I'm totally going to go get help and I was going to be optimistic about getting better despite the fact that I'm not entirely sure how to be optimistic. So it's time to update you: I "sought help."

   So I got put on the emergency list for help somehow which I think means they were worried that I'd down a bottle or two of nail polish remover despite the fact that I insisted that, while I was pretty depressed, I was far from suicidal. What the emergency list actually seems to mean is that they have a meeting about me in a couple of days and maybe I'll be able to see a counselor a week after that. Just as well I don't have the stomach for nail polish remover. Anyway. I've had my first appointment so it seems appropriate to write about how it went.

   I don't think she was actually a counselor but she was a very nice person which is always a good start. She insisted I have plenty of water to drink, sit down, and be complimented on my most defining characteristic: my hair.

This is how long and red it is now. Also,  keep in  mind it (nor I) hardly ever look this good.

While I take pride in my hair (sometimes, when I can be bothered, because with this amount of it its like taking care of a small child) it was not what I had in mind for this session. I don't know, I wanted to focus on things that I struggle to cope with, such as adoption, this bloody break up, motivation, etc. Maybe discuss stategies for coping.

   Nope. Apparently my hair is amazing and that should cure my depression.

   The only strategy suggested was to go for a daily walk in order to start to get more fit and motivate me to do something damn it. Anyway then it snowed, so I think I've been for my walk maybe four times in the last couple of weeks since the appointment? I dont know if it's helping. Anyway.

   I have no idea when the next appointment is and at the moment I'm struggling to care. I really wanted to be able to tell you guys that I'm feeling more positive about things since deciding to "get help" but now that I've actually done that, things feel more vague and pointless than ever.

  Hopefully the next update is happier..

Chocolate Icecream Can't Fix my Depression: I'm Out of Icecream and my Jeans Feel Tight

Just kidding, jeans are for people who leave the house. I'm wearing baggy sweatpants.

   I'm not sure if I'm going to publish this. Let's see how this goes, shall we?

   So, if you've read my blog much before, you know I'm a huge fan of Allie Brosh's Hyperbole and a Half, because her blog is witty, funny, and beautifully relatable. Her most recent post was Adventures in Depression, in which she comes to terms with how she's been. I remember reading it shortly after it appeared on her blog and thinking shucks, this is almost word for word how I've been feeling, right down to the pile of laundry that I'll do "later." I appreciated the accurate descriptions, and recognised that I was probably also suffering from depression. Being the totally rational and sensible person I was, I dealt with this by shoving it to the back of my mind to instead distract myself by endlessly browsing Reddit and eating.

   I think I've got to the point where I've realised now that if my problem is not being fixed by chocolate icecream, perhaps I ought to try a different strategy. Anyway, tonight I seriously decided apathy and icecream wasn't going to cut it and I'm actually going to do something. I'm a little embarrassed it took so long between "realising I probably have depression" and "actually actively deciding to do something about it"- it's worth pointing out that Adventures in Depression was published well over a year ago. Better late than never, I suppose. I think I put it off for so long for two reasons:

1. If I pretend I'm not depressed maybe I won't be depressed and just be happy. (The logic is not very strong with this one.)

2. I didn't really know where to start.

   Everyone has to have their breaking point where they decide "enough is enough." Mine happened about a week ago. I'd been out drinking in town because I'd convinced myself that it meant that at least I'd left the house and been sociable, so that counts as achieving something, right? And I'd woken up on a friend's couch the next morning, realised I'd managed to lose my eftpos card, my ipod, my keys and my favourite lipstick. Also my other friend was going to get me Fergburger the previous night, but I hadn't met up with them and thus had missed out. As this post has already made apparent, food is a strong motivating factor for me because food doesn't judge you. So that was the last straw, really. I picked myself up, walked home (which was particularly unpleasant when I was hungry and didn't have music to listen to) and threw myself on my bed, feeling sorry for myself and deciding that I was stupid and should know better than to ever leave the house again.

Best comfort food ever. They didn't even pay me to say that, but if they gave me a free Chief Wiggum burger, I would totally whore out my integrity for food and write a whole blog post about why it is the best burger place in the south island at least. OH GOD I'M SO HUNGRY.

   After stewing on that for a week or so, I've decided I have had enough. It's normally something I'd cringe about, but I posted on Facebook basically saying I'd like to get help but have no clue where to start. I was taken aback by the kindness of my Facebook friends.

   They sent me a lot of supportive messages and reminded me that treatment for depression is often free in New Zealand, so as not to let cost be a barrier to my getting better, and I was sent a couple of helpful links. One was The Lowdown. It's been advertised to death on New Zealand television, but for some reason I'd never got around to checking it out. It's pretty decent, and most importantly, relevant. In the sense that I'd come across many "help" sites for depression, but they were nearly all based in America, so the numbers they provided for helplines were not particularly useful for me.

   Another link I was given was for Depression Quest. "Depression Quest" sounds like a super lame game focused on achievements such as "eating all the icecream again, you disgusting fat slob" and "drowning in your own tears and self pity" but is actually an interactive fiction game where you play, surprise surprise, a depressed person. As you go on and make more "depressed" choices in the game, you find your options become more and more limited- but as you make better decisions for your mental health and relationships, you are able to make more choices and start to get better. It's supposed to be able to help people understand what living with depression is like, and make you feel like you are not alone in how you feel. Anyway, I "won" kinda. I got the ending where things are starting to get better and you realise that you can cope with this aspect of your life.

   For me, this was a revelation. You see, I've always considered being depressed as a part of my life, and a part of myself. Like no matter what effort I make, it's always going to be there, and I'm always going to feel this way, and I'm  never going to get any better. The ending of Depression Quest showed me that even though it might never go away, I can learn to cope with it and enjoy life and have healthy relationships and do stuff. It's part of me, sure, but it's not going to rule my life like it is currently. I wanted to do something about it.

   I dealt with this by going back on Reddit and eating a bowl of noodles and cheese.

   I kept meaning to do something about this. It was always in the back of my mind. But the first place to go would be my GP- and due to unemployment etc, I convinced myself that I couldn't afford to go to the doctor, and that I'll just have to sit at home by myself until I'd convinced myself that I was better.

   At least my friends knew about it now. At least they were able to be supportive. I found that to be a helpful start at least. One of them sent me another link: Allie had made another post about depression at Hyperbole and a Half, and it was fantastic.

Also this drawing by her became my Facebook profile picture for a couple of days because it perfectly summed up exactly how I was feeling.

   As much as I found these links inspiring and helpful, and as much as I realised I was depressed and wanted to do something about it, for the past couple of years, my motivation to do anything has been at an all time low. Seriously. I started writing this about a month ago, and I'm only just finishing it now.

   I got sick, physically. That was what prompted me. I'd been in Dunedin staying at a friend's, when I suddenly got horrifically sick. I couldn't afford to see a doctor in Dunedin- even more expensive being away from home, so I had to wait it out until my bus back to Queenstown and take painkillers galore and drink my own bodyweight in water twice a day until then. It was not very pleasant.

   Also, I wasn't able to get a bus back to Queenstown until a Friday night, which meant I had to tough it out for the weekend or pay weekend rates for the doctor, which are even worse when you're unemployed. (Also: never become an artist. Sure, I'm doing something I love, but I can't even afford to take care of myself when I'm sick.)

   I thought I could tough it out for another couple of days. Anyway, by 10 am on Saturday, I was curled up in agony on my living room floor, and my mum insisted I was going to the doctors.

   While I was there, I thought, considering I was paying $80 for the visit, I might as well get my money's worth and mention my depression to my doctor, who said she could arrange some things and get me some help for free. Oh, also, I'm not in pain and dying now, which is nice. Eighty bloody dollars though...

   I'm seeing someone on Friday. I'll keep you posted. Probably. If I find the motivation...

Props Boy and the Day I Learnt I am not Cool

   During the 90's in New Zealand, there was a children's television programme called What Now. Technically, it's still going, but I haven't watched it since 2004-ish so as not to spoil my wonderful nostalgic memories. (Also my cousin was talking to me about it about a month ago and told me it has changed considerably from the format I remember.)

   As a kiddie, I loved that show. It had wacky presenters (Caro, Jase, Shavaughn, Props Boy etc) awesome cartoons (I remember it was where I was first introduced to Courage the Cowardly Dog) and a bizarre serial acted by Barbies called Serial Stuff which I loved for some reason.

I always wanted to know what Props Boy looked like with the hat off. Well now I know. Also while researching this, I learnt he's in a fairly mediocre band. Well, I lie. I always thought "Ways to Run" was an alright song.

   Anyway, only some of this is relevant to the traumatic childhood story I'm about to tell you.

   One segment they had on What Now was reading out the super cool letters that kids had sent into them. It was my absolute life goal as a six year old to write them a letter and have it read it out on the show. It would be almost like being New Zealand famous, to my six year old mind at least. So every Sunday morning while watching the show, I'd get out my half-dried up felt pens and my crummy Rose Art Crayons and try to write them a decent letter.

   I wasn't stupid. Well, not entirely. I knew in order to make my letter stand out, it had to have cool things like glitter and colour and stickers. I didn't have any of those and Rose Art was not going to cut it. I decided all I could do was try to draw the presenters of the show and hope my pathetic portrait would at least gain sympathy points. Well, that and some nice "decorations". I decided, in order to show how super cool I was, I'd draw awesome symbols in the margins like stars, hearts, and this really awesome spiral-looking thing I'd seen scrawled in permanent marker on one of the desks at my primary school. My mum looked over my shoulder to see what I was drawing, and immediately snatched up the letter, demanding to know why I was drawing swastikas all over it.

   Six year old me was wonderfully sheltered, and had no idea what a swastika was, or Nazis, or Hitler, or any of that. I just thought it was a cool square-ish spiral- and to be fair, for thousands of years it was, in many cultures, before Nazis adopted it as theirs. Regardless, my mother was well aware that it was not appropriate for children's television, and sat me down and explained to me in excrutiating detail about what the holocaust was.

   That was the last time I ever tried to write to What Now. I wonder if I could send them a letter now, and maybe win some stickers or a tshirt. I don't think they let adults enter though. What a shame.

Bonus: I found a small part of Serial Stuff and none of it makes sense.

Gay Marriage: We've come so far (except those of us who haven't)

   Recently New Zealand achieved something we should all be proud of. For once, it wasn't even anything to do with our sporting prowess, or Flight of the Concords, or Peter Jackson, or sheep, or whatever it is we're famous for now.

   Recently New Zealand made gay marriage legal. Fuck yeah indeed. It makes us only the 12th country in the world to recognise same sex marriages (along with other forward thinking countries as Sweden, Canada and the Netherlands) and the only bad thing about it is that it's not legal in most other countries. Oh, and the people here opposed to it.

Warning: rant time.

   Yes, while the rest of the country was celebrating the awesome progress we've made in giving gays the same rights as every other kiwi, there were a small minority horrified that the country, in their opinion, is going to hell in a handcart, starting with the destruction of marriage, families, and moral standards.

"GOOD HEAVENS, WON'T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE CHILDREN?"

   One of the opponents was Colin Craig, of New Zealand's Conservative Party. While it is one thing for him to have his own (bigoted, intolerant) opinions on gay marriage, it baffled me how he was able to say with a straight face that this is a "failure of democracy" and not something most New Zealanders wish to allow. A Facebook friend of mine suggested his ability to keep a straight face while saying all this was probably due to the "massive black dildo" he had shoved up his backside at the time. I'll let you make your own decision on that one.

   On top of that, there's now Protect Marriage NZ urging kiwis to pledge not to vote for politicians who voted in favour of gay marriage. Is this democracy in action? Absolutely. Is it still ignorant? Heck yeah. Do heterosexual marriages in New Zealand really need "protecting"? From what, exactly? How will gay marriage threaten the sanctity of heterosexual marriage? One time, about a year ago, I was in a bar with some friends when a man thirty years (ish) my senior came up to me and asked if I wanted to be his fourth wife. I'm telling you, there's nothing sacred or special about that.

   Are you opposed to gay marriage because of your religious beliefs? I don't mean to frighten you, but people of any religion can get married. Even atheists. Marriage does not belong exclusively to Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Wiccans or Pastafarians. If you want a religious marriage following your spiritual beliefs, go right ahead. The fact that two people of the same sex can have a marriage based on their values does not affect you at all.

   Are you opposed to gay marriage because gays squick you out because whenever you think about gay relationships, all you can picture is ew, bumsex? You should probably stop picturing it. Unless you want to picture it. I'm not one to judge. (On a side note, you do realise that straight couples can engage in anal intercourse too, right? Are you going to picture that every time you think about heterosexual relationships?)

Anyway. I'm sorry, that was a massive rant. I'm done now, almost. I just want to leave you with this final point. I don't know if I will ever get married in the future. And most likely not to the drunk guy who offered to let me be his fourth wife. But I certainly won't try to stop anyone else in this country from their right to get married. Love is love, whether you're gay, straight, bisexual.... and everyone should have equal rights to love.

   Even  Colin Craig, who is in love with his possibly delusional view of New Zealanders' views.

Adventures of a Single Girl

   Yeah so, in the last post I wrote about how excited I was for Valentines Day and then there were lots of pretty pictures of Scott and I and the cupcakes he made me and... well it's been a couple of months since and we just broke up. Even cupcakes can't save your relationship is the lesson to take away from that folks. But seriously. It was a mutual decision and it ended amicably. By amicably, I mean actually amicably, the sort of break up where you txt each other every few days to see how the other is coping and still have nice conversations where you gossip about the Dunedin music scene, as opposed to "amicably" which is when you tell all your friends that you aren't cut up about it in the slightest yet you still marinate yourself in rum and cheap wine and Facebook stalk him while sobbing to yourself and sending him angry messages about how he was so selfish to leave you.

   No. This genuinely ended amicably. And he doesn't see a huge future for himself in the Dunedin music scene, just so you know. Which is fair enough, the music industry here is a bit of a joke if you actually want to be successful.

   Anyway, I decided it was time to get back into blogging now I have something to write about and document my experiences of being single. Why? Well first of all, I intend to stay single for a while. I started dating Scott not long after getting out of another relationship, so it's been a while since I've done this. (I don't know what I'm doing.) Also because, let's be honest, what else am I doing with my life right now?

Certainly not this. At all. Especially not at three in the morning.

   Anyway, expect updates on this.

Valentine's Day Special 2013

   For the third year in a row (has Probably Not Sane really been around that long?) I bring you top-quality writing on what is actually one of my favourite holidays.

I get that it's not everyone's favourite holiday. Even now, half my facebook newfeed is ranting about how Valentine's Day is stupid and should totally not happen and how it's all about commercialism and that they will be spending the day with a bottle of vodka instead. Well guess what. I've been in a relationship for the past two Valentine's Days and I'm in a relationship this year too. And it's great. So I get to be all smug about things. Even better, this year I actually get to spend the day with my boyfriend, so I get to be doubly smug. Cheers Intercity for your lovely affordable bus fares.

With the amount of times I've travelled between Queenstown and Dunedin over the past couple of years, I'm probably their most loyal customer.

   Current boyfriend and I were discussing what we would like to do for Valentine's day this year but most of our ideas were pretty impractical. We originally thought camping would be cute, but then wondered where we would go/how we would get there (neither of us drives) and that what if the lovely unpredictable south island weather goes bad? (It probably will.) As we ran out of feasible ideas, we decided it totally wasn't unromantic to google for suggestions.

   It didn't work out to be the best idea.

   What I learnt from this is that there is a ton of rubbish advice out there on Valentine's day ideas. Or maybe just advice that didn't suit our relationship of being two cynical, poor, strange people, who both happen to live with their families at the moment. (So we can forget suggestions to have sex in every room in the house, because somehow I don't see either of our families appreciating that.)

   It's time to do what Bellez does best. Make fun of these ideas.

   So the first article we can pull apart is this lovely one from Esquire, mainly because it was the first result for “cheap valentine's date ideas” and also because there are some ridiculous suggestions. For example,this suggestion involves playing video games with your (pregnant)date. I'm sure Cosmo has an extension on the idea: every time someone loses, they remove an article of clothing.

Why this is a bad idea for us:

Scott's much, much better at video games than me, so it would just end with me naked, watching him play. Also I did mention he lives with his family.

   The next suggestion involves what to do with your mistress. Esquire suggests a lunch date, because you should save a dinner date for someone you truly love, despite the fact that earlier in the day, you were donging someone else. Charming.

Why this is a bad idea for us:

Because, unless you're in some form of open relationship, this is probably a bad idea for all couples. I don't know if I would really want to take relationship advice from somewhere that tries to help me sneakily sleep with two people on Valentine's day. Or any day.

   At this point, I decided it was time to research ideas in other places. Because I was being a bit lazy about it I decided to see what good ol' Cosmo had to say about that- no longer for legitimate ideas, but purely for entertainment purposes. Unfortunately, all they had was "30 Things to Do With A Naked Man" (spoiler alert:  "have sex with him" "have sex with him" and "have sex with him" probably featured on the list somewhere.)

   Surely there was more sincere advice somewhere, but if it was, I was struggling to find it. I was not keen on cutting out a hundred paper hearts and writing something I love about him on each one and scattering them about the place for him to find.

By the time I get to heart #58, I'm sure this is what it will say.

   Besides, who wants to clean up a hundred paper hearts, or be the unfortunate person to find heart #27? ("I like our sex life.") 

   "Relive your first date." I'm not sure if this counted as our first date, but I was less than keen to relive drinking goon in the gardens and watching him vomit.

   Anyway, my bus to Dunedin is booked, and out of ideas or not, I'm still going to see my boyfriend. If this post was going to have a cheesy moral, it would be that of all the things you can do with someone you love this Valentine's Day, the best thing you can do is to simply spend time with them.

   And maybe have sex with them. Cheers Cosmo!

Update: He made me cupcakes, (his mum helped, but ssh) and I made him eclaires and his sister cooked a romantic dinner for us. Also I got all pretty for our date so you know there's going to be photos...

Updates again!

   Been a while, huh? Don't I know it. I've been busy etc etc. With, you know. Not really having a life. Traipsing to Dunedin and Auckland and back and trying to find a job and (still with little success, what with me having the time to write this and all) and trying to see if I could actually make money from my art so I don't need a real job (also not going so well either) and wasting time on Reddit and all that.

I could be making dinner for myself right now but with the available food I have sitting here, it's going to be cheese on toast again and I don't even like toast, so perhaps a little catch up on here might be more productive.

   So what have I been up to other than discovering a possible vitamin deficiency caused by too much cheese and not enough else?

I've got a job. Kind of. Well, I've taken on a role as editor at the soon-to-be-relaunched Leaky Biro magazine. We've had a bit of a revamp, and although Thomas Stevenson (Dekarnuva) is still with us, we're joined by two new writers, Seth Tetley-Jones and Gareth McMullen, who you may remember contributed this lovely piece to my blog, about disturbing pornography. We're hoping to have our first new issue ready around March sometime, which means blogging on here will, as usual, probably take a back seat.

But you should definitely read The Biro (available digitally, or a print copy if you prefer) if for no other reason than at the very least, I can promise you it will look pretty. (I'm doing the cover at the moment. It looks wonderful.) The writing should be pretty top-notch too.

   Now I've got that shameless plug out of the way, let's talk about some things that will be on this blog.

• Remember the Valentine's day specials from 2011 and 2012, where I felt so excited I actually provided you with a second Valentine's day post? Well, I'm sure I can whip up another something for 2013, because y'all know you can get your romance advice from me. Will it be on Valentine's day? Heavens, no. I'm going to be in Dunedin having way more fun.

• Seeing as my drawing skills are improving, expect to see a lot more of my art (and not just the MS Paint stuff) on here.

• One day I will record my dramatic reading of My Immortal. Probably not ever though.

   Also, for those of you who remember my craving for Mr Whippy Icecream, not only is he back in Fernhill but he was also at the Fernhill Family Fun Day where I got an icecream purely for nostalgia purposes. And yes, with all the toppings. It was satisfying to do so, at last, for all of about a minute. Then I just started to feel sick from too much sugar. But it was still worth it.

Things My Mother has Said Today Which Make me Wonder if She is Ok

   I love my mother dearly. She is intelligent and witty and really nice (if she likes you.) But sometimes she has days where she says the strangest things. Today, for example.


1. "No, there is East Germany and West Germany, they are two separate countries.

Germany has been a single country for over twenty years.

2. "So what is the difference between LSD and meth, anyway?

on a similar note:

"I don't think I've ever met anyone who has tried cannabis."

You lived in Queenstown during the seventies. You probably have.

3. "So America has Republicans and Democrats, and one is right wing and one is left wing, right?"

Yes! She gets it!

"And Obama is right wing, so he must be a Democrat."

So close.

4. "The hippies never had much of a drug culture. They were too busy having free love to have time to try drugs."

This is the closest to an accurate statement she has made today. That and "I saved you some pizza because I thought you would be hungry."

5. "I don't think there's ever any reason for anyone to get divorced. Oh god, you're father's put the dishes away wrongly again, I swear one of these days I'll get a divorce..."

Abuse, cheating... and putting away the dishes incorrectly. I'll keep it mind for future relationships.

6. "Are you addicted to P?" (Ice, crystal meth, whatever you prefer to call it.)

The strongest stimulant I have ever tried is caffeine. So no, not a raging P addict. Sorry mum.

7. "What are you addicted to?"

Ok mum, I'm sorry. I should have told you this before. I'm totally addicted to cheese. And maybe Reddit.


   Hopefully she will be better after a nap.

(For all those concerned, I'm not sure where this addiction obsession has originated. Maybe she heard something about addictive personalities on the radio. Maybe she read an article in the Listener. Who knows. She went through this phase a few years ago where she was convinced I had coeliacs disease, and that was less than pleasant.)

A Quick Adoption Update

   So I've recently had the best week in Dunedin.

Even though I was ill most of the time.

   Anyway, seeing as whenever I get serious on this blog, I'm talking about adoption, I thought I'd update you on some cool things that have happened as far as having more contact with my birthfamily goes.

   I've made progress.

   My birthmother and I are now on talking terms- I went to see my little brother and her and I just started hanging out and talking. It was fantastic. It makes me really grateful for the fact that I'm able to have contact with my birthfamily because even if it took time, things are starting to get better. I think that's definitely the lesson to take away from what I've learnt with having contact with my birthfamily, especially now most of them are taking more of an interest in my life. It hasn't always been this way, but persistence has helped. Don't give up, yo. Anything's possible.

   Also ended up hanging out with my birthfather and my little brother Kaleb on the same day that I saw my mother. I'd felt a little guilty for not having spent as much time with Kaleb as I had with my other brothers but we made up for lost time and did some finger painting together and he got me to help him paint his face.

Not quite sure what the look he was going for here was.

   And finally, one evening while hanging out in the gardens with Scott and waiting for a friend, we met some people who knew William. This isn't surprising because its Dunedin and as it turns out everyone knows my brother, but these people knew him enthusiastically. One of them used to be his flatmate, who I remember meeting briefly. He gave me skittles to cheer me up because I'd been dumped that morning. His friend was far far more excited about meeting Will's sister though because she thought he was amazing and by extension, I am amazing too and we were super best friends.

Super duper best friends

   Though he's not a role model in many regards, I can't ever hope to be as sociable or respected as William, it was pretty cool hearing people go on (and on) about how he is amazing and has done so much for them. Also I like skittles.

   Anyway, gaining more of a family has been fantastic and I'm in a pretty good mood as a result.

   Y'all should give your mums a hug from Bellez.

Positive Lists

   When I was thirteen, I hated the school I went to, so my parents decided to send me to boarding school. It turns out I didn't like that much either.Within about five minutes of my parents leaving me at the hostel there, I'd already started scoping out some escape routes even though I was in an unfamiliar town where I knew nobody. I was a damn determined schoolgirl and no one was going to keep me hostage in a hostel!

   Except I never had the guts to run away that night.

   Anyway, to put me in a better state of mind and to distract me from my constant plotting of escape plans, one of the matrons at the hostel suggested I make a list of all the positive things in my life. Back then, they were a bit boring. Here's an example:

1. When we have banoffee pie for dessert.
   To be fair, I had a friend there who was allergic to bananas, so I'd always get her share.

27. Making positive lists.
   I was clearly running out of ideas by this stage.

28. Running away.
   This kind of defeated the purpose.


   Six years later, I thought it was an appropriate time to write an updated version.

1. Banoffee pie, still. It is delicious.

2. The Adam Lambert song, "Sleepwalker." Firstly because he's more fabulous than you'll ever be. Secondly because I love singing the chorus very loudly and changing the lyrics somewhat.

And he's still more fabulous than you.

3. Moustaches.

4. Bitching about ugly dresses!

5. Bitching in general. I'm a terrible person.

6. MS Paint pictures. (I know, I know, it's been a while.) Here's a hipster girl who had her hands amputated.

Hands are hard to draw, plus it cut off a bit at her legs. Let's say she has a boyfriend with an amputation fetish.

7. Browsing Reddit in my underwear, because it's basically internet crack.

8. Having sufficient heating to allow me to browse Reddit in my underwear despite the fact that I live in the south island and it is winter. I WILL SURVIVE.

9. SO MANY RATS!

10. Cheese

11. This baby sugar glider.

12. Fairylights

They are in this photo (at the top.) Also my new purchases mean my rat boys are no longer allowed on my bed, so they do not see this as a positive at all.

13. Mr Bearington and the Xtreme Coffee and Travel Mug set

14. The use of Xtreme to describe anything even though its not the nineties anymore and we don't need mountain bikes and surfboards and sunglasses to make us want to buy soft drinks.

15. I once had an "xtreme bible" which was in fluorescent colours to appeal to the youth. It looked pretty on my bookshelf.

16. Whiskey.

17. Getting new warm socks. I did a shopping trip recently, and socks and fairylights were the things I was most excited about getting. My tootsies are so warm and cozy during this southern winter, I'm stoked!

 18. The fact that Scott and his sister and I have recorded part one of our dramatic reading of My Immortal. Just waiting for it to be sent to me and I am yet to figure out how to put it on here but it will happen!


   I think eighteen items makes a pretty legit positive list. Good job Bellez, you have every reason to be happy.

A Thought I Had at Two in the Morning

   You know how people advise you not to look at yourself in the mirror when you're on hallucinogens as it may freak you out? I feel the same way about my pets. Seriously. I think if I were ever to do that, I couldn't look at my rats.

   Why? Well, occasionally when I'm watching them play, one of them will look me in the eye, and for a split second, I feel as if I'm looking into the soul of another human being. I know it's bizarre and it makes no sense whatsoever. That's cool. But then I start thinking. What if my rats were able to comprehend things like a person? What would they think of the silly names I call them, or that I lock them in a cage every night? Would they be humiliated about the time I made them dance to Lady Gaga? Sure, they're loved and well cared for and I play with them and feed them and make sure they have water and clean their cage almost daily even though that is my least favourite activity. But I still wonder if my pets love me as much as I love them.

   They didn't seem to enjoy Lady Gaga as much as they seemed to like The Prodigy and Nirvana. I wonder if they can tell the music, even individual songs, apart or if it all just sounds the same to them and they classify it all as "loud, human related noise."

   I'd never tell them that they enjoyed Deadmau5 though. I reckon that would be the biggest shock of their little lives. Well, that and the day that I tell them they're adopted.

Look at their little faces! How could I drop a bombshell like that on them? Yes, I'm aware that makes me a hypocrite. So what?

   I'm sorry this got so mum-blog on you. "LOOK AT MY KIDS. AREN'T THEY SO SPECIAL AND BEAUTIFUL! BEING A MUM IS SO HARD BUT IT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT JOB IN THE WORLD!!!!!!111"

   I promise I will never have human children of my own. Or if I do, I won't subject them to this. It's ok. The rats can't read.

The Probably Not Sane Guide to Breakups

   Well, this is cool. I'm single. Awesome. Fabulous.

   So I thought it would be rather timely that I wrote some advice on how best to cope with the situation of being dumped. Because as you can clearly see from these photographs, I dealt with the situation like a mature, responsible adult.

So Janelle and I took some interesting pictures with a frog statue in a playground. That's how adults deal with things, right?

   So you should know that I am definitely the person to go to for all your relationship advice, as further evidenced here and here.

   So what you want to know is: what are the best ways for you to deal with the fact that you're single, unattractive and unlovable, and destined to die alone? Well, look no further.

   Some people may advise that you sing Adele terribly to your fifteen cats in order to get over your inability to form meaningful relationships and make them last. I would be inclined to disagree, mostly because I do not like cats (shock horror, a person on the internet that doesn't like cats!) nor am I a fan of Adele. Others may suggest drinking yourself to death in order to forget your problems, but both my liver, and concerned readers would be appalled that I would offer such disgusting and irresponsible advice. So please, disregard these ideas. There are better ways to cope.

1. Write terrible poetry


   This also allows you to explore your creative side. While not strictly about a breakup of my own, I dealt with my problems by writing this beautiful piece dedicated to somebody's ex girlfriend. It wasn't my proudest moment.

Well I'll be honest

I've heard all about you

And he tells me

I'm far more attractive than you

Thing is, you're rubbish in bed

And messed up in the head

And that's why he still will not talk to you

Sad thing is, I used to be like you

So naive, I'd believe

That there was nothing for me to do

The world's a sad place

When the world hates your face

But at least I wear it much better than you do

No hard feelings, I see you've moved on

But I really don't want to get along

Your new boyfriend's a prick

Bet he's got a small dick

And he can't even go at it that long

   I told you I write quality poetry. That, however, is not an example of it.

2. Junk food diet

   Why? Because it's a complete stereotype of how women are supposed to cope with breakups, by drowning themselves in tubs of ice cream. (Chocolate is my preferred flavour.) However yet again, I encourage you to embrace creativity. Don't just stuff yourself with chocolate icecream. Incorporate every fat and calorie laden food into it. Personally, I think the combination of chocolate, ice cream, bacon, pastry, whipped cream and whiskey belong together in order to stave off the loneliness. 

Bonus tip: You don't even need to get fat(ter)! Exercise is a well known way to boost your mood. So pass me another bowl of chocolately goodness. 

3. Shop for stupid, unnecessary shit

   Again, this is another stereotype of something people like to do to fill the empty void in their lives. Which is fantastic, because in this economic climate, somebody has to be spending, or we're all screwed. That can be your excuse after you've purchased this:

Hey, it could be useful for when you insist on singing Adele terribly to get over your miserable life.

4. Build a bridge and get over it.

   NO.

   This is a stupid piece of advice, and to the next person who suggests it, I hope you walk into a swarm of angry bees. Yes, life goes on, and eventually you get over these things. In your own time. I think it's unreasonable to expect someone to just be over it and happy in a matter of minutes.

   In saying that though, I did have a lovely time in Auckland now I was newly single.

I may be single and unloved, but when your brother's a bartender, life's still pretty sweet.

Mother's Day Special

   Look, I don't generally do mother's day. Longtime readers of my blog will know this is because I'm adopted and well. It's awkward. I appreciate the people who have brought me up, but I don't feel comfortable calling them "parents" as such. I don't really know what to call them. Someone suggested "caregivers" but, as my lovely adoptive mother said, "I don't give and I don't care."

   I love her. Really.

   For that reason, I thought I'd do a lovely mother's day post about her.

Here she is! And me,  of course.

   I also thought I'd share a lovely story about her from the other day.

   We have had a problem lately with the plug for the kitchen sink. You know that little metal ring at the top that assists in the removal of the plug? Well, it had snapped clean off, and every time one of us went to wash the dishes, It would take about half an hour of persistence and swearing to get the plug back out again.

   Time for a shopping trip at Mitre 10.

   Now, as a pensioner, Liz has a gold card, which allows her to get free bus rides between 9am and 3pm. This is very convenient as it requires two buses to get to where Mitre 10 is, and being Queenstown, none of these come cheap. This becomes a crucial fact later on.

   She had purchased a plug which she assumed would fit the sink, however, she wanted to get back home, test it to make sure it would fit, then leave enough time to bus back to Mitre 10 should a replacement be required, all before 3pm so she wouldn't have to pay for the bus, because if I were to describe her in a single word, I would choose "economical." Being economical, she had also decided to do some grocery shopping while she was there because the supermarket near Mitre 10 had cheaper prices than the one closer to where we live.

   This was how my adoptive mother ended up in the carpark with a shopping trolley she was about to return when she saw the bus coming. Realising that she had to catch this bus in order to make it home in time, she ran towards it, taking the shopping trolley with her. I cannot tell you why she still had the trolley or what she planned to do with it once she reached the bus, but I can tell you that she would rather die than be one of those people that do not return the trolley to its allocated area of the carpark. Perhaps she would have tried to hold the bus while she went to return it. I do not know.

   Her rather hastily thought out plan involved taking one of those wheelchair ramps (as opposed to the stairs, as she still has this massive shopping trolley with her at this stage) towards the bus stop. Sprinting. Anyway, she was there. She had made it, just as the bus arrived. Or would have, had she not tripped on the curb.

   I don't know how much the average shopping trolley weighs, but it all fell down on top of her.

   One would suspect this situation was bad enough. There would be the pain, the humiliation, and still the possibility of missing the bus. But she had not suffered enough yet, it seemed, because she discovered that she was in fact trapped underneath the upturned trolley, and required assistance to get out.

   My readers, you will be relieved to know that after this, she made it home safely to test the plug.

   It appeared to fit correctly, but upon testing in a sink full of water, we found a leak, so it may yet require a second trip to Mitre 10. No trolleys this time though. Poor woman.

Putting the "troll" in "shopping trolley."

RIP Mark

RIP Mark Buckley

24/10/95 - 08/05/12

   I met Mark through some mutual friends in Dunedin- he went to the same high school as my little brothers, was in the same year as many of my friends. Although not universally liked, he was definitely well known, and the news of his death affected everyone that knew him.

   In fact, I'm nothing but impressed by the sincerity and maturity shown by his classmates and friends.

"I'm sorry for the shit I gave him. He wasn't that bad of a guy, we just didn't see things the same way at times. But he will be missed." said Jordan Stocks, who went to school with Buckley.

"It's a tragedy, he may not have been the most liked guy around, but it's still an awful thing, there should still be a level of respect that people have to abide by, not laugh and joke about it as if it's nothing. He was still a person, it's still a human life, and he will be missed by his family and friends. He was still a student of OBHS, [Otago Boys High School] some people need to step up," said Joe Dickinson, another fellow student.


   Mark was killed in a car crash last night. Although I will not go into the full details here, this article is available.

   I offer my condolences to his friends and family. RIP Mark, you will be missed.

   To share your own messages of support, please leave a post at RIP Mark Buckley.