Where are my roots?

It’s important for people to have roots. To have a place that is home, a place where your people are and where you have a solid history and life. Where we come from creates a large part of our identities.

I’ve moved so many times in my life that I’ve lost count. Including the time I disappeared from my high school and took off to live with my dad… and then did the exact same thing four months later. Continue reading Where are my roots?

Dating with a chronic illness/disability

For those of us who live lives changed by chronic illness or disability, visible or invisible, dating can be made doubly hard. As a teenager, when the way we view ourselves and others is so affected by peers, and as an adult when there are expectations in relationships – marriages, families, double incomes – it throws a spanner in already complicated works. Continue reading Dating with a chronic illness/disability

I’m with the band

Every now and then, being the ‘professional sick-kid’ brings amazing things into your life as a form of compensation. Starship children’s hospital in Auckland has supported me my whole life, even though I am no longer a child, and they continue to make magic happen.

Last Thursday I got a phone call from Starship asking me if I would like to meet the band 5 Seconds of Summer the following Tuesday. It was totally out of the blue, and absolutely not what I thought the hospital call was about. But, being a fan of the band for a long time, there was absolutely no way I was going to say no.

I am SO grateful for the opportunity, and I did really have a wonderful time, but the whole day was so bizarre. There was a lot of shuffling to and from underground halls and changing rooms with The Ten (the ten people who were meeting the band) and a scary amount of cameras and managers and reporters and security etc.

When it came time to meet the band, there was about five minutes for all ten of us, so we had to run in, smile for the cameras, and we were promptly shooed out, as I remember it. This is the part that bothered me a little because I met them, but I didn’t say anything more to them than “Hi, hi, thank you so much!” and then we were in a different part of the building and they were gone.

(My friend who came with me has told me that Michael Clifford, guitarist for the band, actually did hug me and comment on how little I am. Clearly, I was not as calm as I thought I was since I have no recollection of this at all (sorry Michael, I love you).)

They played a small set for everybody there and did a short Q&A. Their performance was amazing, and the fact that it was a small group all clustered in the middle of a rugby field while they played acoustic versions of their songs made it feel so intimate and special.

Listen to my top three songs from their latest album here, here, and here.

Thank you to ASB, Starship Children’s Hospital, and 5 Seconds of Summer for giving me such a wonderful day in such a difficult time.


Working Catastrophe

I got my first job when I was 16, a year after an impromptu interview for the said job. I was so excited and grateful for this magical opportunity, and the money it came with (which was below min wage by the way) that it didn’t immediately register with me what I had signed up for.

Before I continue, I would like to point out I did not receive any official training there beyond the very basic functions of the sales program on the computer. I guess they thought I was clever enough to figure it out on my own. They soon realised their mistake. Continue reading Working Catastrophe

Cameras lie

I am on a mission to love myself. Truly and completely. This means investing time to take care of myself- good face masks, taking care of my hair, taking all of my medicine and supplements. But it also means letting go of some things. Like straightening my hair obsessively, always ready to run from any water because god forbid I get frizz or my natural curls are revealed. Straightening my hair for three hours every week does not make me happy. Hearing people tell me how much better I look with straight hair does not make me happy. Continue reading Cameras lie

My cat is a hardened criminal

This beautiful kitten is named Lupin, and affectionately known to us as ‘The Shnoops”. Look at his little face. He’s just chilling in his box. What a darling.


EXCEPT HE ISN’T. The Shnoop is a hardened criminal.

He sits in these boxes, for these perfectly posed pictures, and it’s all a ruse. A clever disguise so that nobody will ever believe us when we tell people ‘The Way of The Shnoop”.

You can bet that he is an absolute angel when visitors come. He must keep up appearances after all.


Continue reading My cat is a hardened criminal

Semester 1/6

The years first semester is about to finish in about a week, which I have off thanks to my doctor. I was studying last year as well, but this year has been the first year of my actual Bachelor’s degree, and it has gone infinitely worse than last year. So. Much. Worse.

Continue reading Semester 1/6

Apartments and hospital rooms

In the space of 72 hours, I moved into my own apartment with my boyfriend, got myself hospitalised, came home and promptly flooded my new apartment. It has been… a week.

To start at the beginning, I’ve been frantically trying to find somewhere to live before June 1st as that’s when we needed to move. I found one, with the help of my friend (it was his old apartment tbh this is all thanks to him) and moved within the week. During this moving time, my entire lower body puffed up and doubled in size. Which is why, on the second day of moving, I was taken to the emergency room at 9 pm. It was such a big deal because I am immunosuppressed, and sudden unexplained things like swelling are often very very bad.

I was in the emergency room until five am, listening to the constant groaning of a woman in the bed opposite me, and the endless shrieks of machines, being poked and prodded with needles. I fell asleep twice, both times I was immediately woken up for more blood tests and updates on the fact that there was no news. They moved me into a different ward at 5, and I was there until about 4 pm. This ward was full of insufferable snoring.

During this time it occurred to me that hospitals may be the very worst place in the world to be sick with the intention of recovering.

I got released, plied with prescriptions and threats of long-term ‘observation’ which is code for being chained to a hospital bed, and a follow-up appointment on Tuesday.

I then came home, to several baskets full of washing, and put some on just to try and make a dent which it didn’t. Within half an hour the bathroom floor was filled with about two inches of water, and the hallway carpet was squelching. We dried up the bathroom, but the hallway is still recuperating, two days later.

This is all outside of frantic uni submissions.

It has been one hell of a week.