So I should think about not moving around so much both online AND offline

Life in Hornsby is great; I’ve moved in successfully and have found my ‘routine’. There are only a few boxes left, to be shifted to the garage during twilight hours so I’m not lugging stuff around with my daughter Charlotte running haphazardly around me.

I’m without the Internet because I resigned from my job and have since acquired so many debts that the Internet is the least of my worries. I left because… well, you only have to read a few of Nailpolishblues’ work-related entries to realise how vile some of the characters can be. Eh.

Actually, being without the Internet has been quite liberating. I’m completely besotted with the age Charli is at now and I’m loving taking her out and having adventures with her. We’ve been sunbaking and sand-castling at Manly, we’ve touched shark eggs, stingrays and starfish at Sydney Aquarium and bought a plush orange seahorse she’s lovingly named Duncan (complete with babies Seamus, Angus and Lachlan), and wasted afternoons watching buskers at Circular Quay. When we’re not having a fully-blown adventure, we’re at the local park at least once a day for at least an hour, followed by people-watching in the street mall while I have my coffee, and she her Baskin & Robbins Cotton Candy ice-cream in a cup so she’s not chasing the drips and drops, making a wafer cone soggy.

She’s reading three-letter words like cat, pig, and dog. She knows her numbers without mistakes to 30. She’s currently struggling on ‘beautiful’ and ‘family’ – she says BYOO-fi-tull and FLAAAA-mmy. So freakin’ cute. When you ask her what she’s up to, she responds immediately with “nothing!”, no matter what she’s doing. She won’t stop talking, dancing, singing and drawing. Her favourite colour at the moment is pink, and she’s got the most unruly mop of curls I have ever seen.

I’ve lost a bit more weight as a combined result of regular and solid evening sleep, accidental exercise, and healthy eating. On a tight budget, I’m spending more on decent food that won’t make us sluggish, and I’m pre-planning meals to cook at home. Charli “helps” me make most of our meals, from steak & 2 veg to tacos, to home-made pizza (Mummy’s has anchovies) to inventing our own special pasta dish that is yet to be named, but resembles a foody rainbow.

I had my first model shoot with Cat O’ Nine Tails from Shot With Desire two weekends ago and found it to be the most fun ever in the history of everything. We spent quite a bit of time brainstorming storyboards, then ended up doing an empowered (and maybe a little bit crazy) axe-wielding maid theme. The amount of clothing I shed for the sake of art was reliant on Cat – her personal philosophy, her plans for Shot With Desire, her goals in life, and her sense of humour. I had a wicked-awesome shoot, and you’ll have to wait around to see how it went. I only have one photo from the shoot so far, and I am so excited to get the rest. Check Shot With Desire’s MySpace page for updates, and keep your eyes on ShotWithDesire.com, debuting soon. IMHO, it’s completely different to the common first impression of “It looks like SuicideGirls stuff” – these are sexy, smart and sassy people who know what they want in life and get it. I am absolutely honoured to be a Shot With Desire model, and extremely proud to be supporting Australian Erotica. Hot stuff.

To completely contradict all the awesome from that previous paragraph, I'd like to report a Rina-esque injury that happened about a week before the shoot. As most of you know, I've taken up knitting as a hobby to work off nervous energy as an alternative to fidgeting/smoking/drinking coffee/blogging. One evening, after a hard day with an extremely belligerent Charli, I retired to the sofa for some furious knitting action. At some point (always the way), I became distracted and went off to tend to whatever it was. When I came back, I was short one knitting needle. I looked everywhere for it, to no avail. Flopping down furiously on the sofa in a state of resigned (read = lazy) distress (read = "Fuck! Ehhh."), I landed on the elusive needle, which had somehow found its way in between the sofa cushions and positioned itself in a most dangerous angle, stabbing me in the back. There's nothing that says "Badass!" like a knitting injury. Christ, I'm so awkward. Who the hell gets stabbed with knitting needles?! On their own?!

Me, apparently.

So here’s where I wrap things up. If anyone wants to get a hold of me, email me at editor [at] scrawled [dot] org. I’m also writing again… if there’s anyone who wants snailmail, email me your snailmail address and I’ll get crackin’.

The financial wealth may be a bit out of my grasp at the moment while I get my shit together, but my personal wealth is showing no signs of slowing down. Healthy, happy, hopeful and it can only get better. I hope things are going well for those of you who found this page.

Big love,
Rin