Buying a house

We bought our house around 18 months ago. I’d been a tenant for many years and to say I was glad to see the back of landlords and property managers would be a vast understatement. Buying a house was a big dream realised; no more uncertainty, no more leases, no more dodgy repairs, no more fighting with agents at the end of lease to get my bond returned. In my own home, I could so many things without anyone else’s permission.

Knock down walls, paint, hang pictures, change stuff around, install things, remove things- whatever the hell I want!

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But home ownership is a funny thing and you learn a bit about yourself along the way.

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Talya Goding

A few years ago, through blogging, I became mates with an awesome woman called Talya Goding. Talya was juggling multiple medical conditions, a situation she handled with a rare mixture of raw honesty, strength, vulnerability and grace. She shared her story of living with an ostomy and her cancer story through her blog, Feeling Ostomistic. She even used her experiences to help and support other young people going through similar struggles.

 

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The sweet, kind, generous, hilarious friend that would make it her business to tell me about crazy vagina products or hit me up with blogger goss. And yesterday morning, I learned that she had passed away in her sleep.

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Resolution thingies

I’m not a big one for New Year’s resolutions, or setting intentions or even picking a word or mantra.

Sometimes, however, I set something for myself. I’m not strict about it and I don’t usually make it something terribly difficult. One year it was to get myself to the dentist and I did it. Go me! Another was to stop calling everyone “guys” because, you know, some people aren’t guys and it’s nice to be inclusive.

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Underwear fetish

Everyone has their kinks, their turn-ons, that thing that sets their motor running in some way. Feet, latex, BDSM, role play- you name it and someone is probably into it.

An underwear fetish of some sort is probably one of the more common not-so-guilty pleasures. Seeing people wearing it, wearing it yourself (the fancy kind, I imagine, not your sensible knickers reserved for periods) or, for some, touching it. To each their own, right? No judgement here. Except for the person that once stole my fancy, expensive satin knickers off the washing line. That was many moons ago and they were a scant bit of shimmer that left nothing to the imagination. Now that I think about it, they could have just blown away in a gust of wind. If someone took it upon themselves to pinch them off the line, however,  I am judging. Just on the stealing, just so we are clear. I don’t blame them for liking the teensy pants. They were HAWT. But, I digress.

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The other common underwear fetish is going completely without them. Freeballing, for those with a certain anatomy. No knickers at all, for the rest of us.

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