I’m getting so terrible at this blogging thing. It’s been just under 1 month since I last posted. Given, it was at least a week between when we moved to when we got internet, so that’s a good excuse for that week, but it’s not really good enough for the rest of the time.

Anyway, I won’t dwell on that too much. We’re in our own place now, pretty much established (although I’m still living out of suitcases because we don’t have any drawers to put small things like t-shirts and shorts and stuff in). We’ve got internet, Foxtel, a bed to sleep in, a fridge, a washing machine and an operating toilet. We’re all good. I haven’t been able to take any decent photos of the new place, since we’re still kind of in a mess at the moment, but here’s some photos I took a couple weeks after we moved in:

As you enter the house:

The kitchen, on the right as you enter:

Front view of the kitchen:

The study, on the left as you enter (Michael’s computer):

Looking out from the study to the kitchen (my computer):

The lounge room (or space, since it’s not really a ‘room’):

The bathroom from the bedroom entrance:

The bathroom from the lounge room entrance:

The (very messy) bedroom:

All in all, we fucking love this house. It looks a bit squishy, but it is only the two of us and we’re very happy here. The moving itself went fine - there was a bit of a hiccup with the building manager due to some miscommunication, but that was easily sorted out and we got everything moved in the one day so we were happy with that. We’ve now been here for 2.5 weeks and as I said, we love it.

Skip up till yesterday, and I got something I’ve wanted since before we moved out. Back in July last year, just before I started work, I got my labret pierced. Some of you may know the story about this. Essentially, I got my labret pierced, went home, Michael’s mum saw it and seemed fine with it (well, not fine with it but she didn’t really seem to care much), then I had to take it out because it was on a weird angle and I kept biting on it. I called the place I got it done the next day and they said that it was fine, just let it heal over a couple of weeks and I could go back in and get it redone. Cool. The following Saturday and Michael’s mum tells me that she doesn’t want me to get it redone, that I have nice lips and shouldn’t ruin it, and when I say that it’s something I’ve wanted done for a long time, she turns around cold-blooded and says that as long as I’m under her roof I can’t have it done (despite my being 18 and my own mother not caring about it - even if my mum did care about it, she couldn’t do anything because legally I’m an adult). So to try and keep the peace I put it off and just say whatever - as soon as we’re out in our own place, I’ll get another piercing.

So yesterday, I went to a piercer’s shop and I got a monroe. Technically, it’s a madonna, but I like the way monroe sounds better. The in-laws still haven’t seen it and will tonight, so I’m a little nervous but I don’t really care because it’s my body, I’m now 19 and I’m not under their roof, so I can do what I like.

Here’s the piercing - it looks a little big and sore, and also people have said on messageboards that the placement looks off but that’s mainly because the spot I wanted it done has a tooth below it that is shorter than the others, so it would grab on easily when I open my mouth or eat to the back of the piercing. I love it anyway and I don’t care what anyone else thinks - I’m happy and if people want to deny me my happiness over a stupid piercing, fuck them.

And that’s enough for now - I’m so tired, and my keyboard is really starting to piss me off (I have a Z-Board and it’s refusing to co-operate right now). So cheerio and I’ll blog again in a couple of days to tell you about STEPHEN K AMOS!