Hi :) I'm a crazy girl, nice to meet you now I'll ruin your life-L

No one ever sets out to date a crazy girl, in the same way that no one ever sets out to become a member of a cult. No one’s like, “HEY MAYBE I’LL JOIN AN INSANE CULT TODAY!"
No, you just gradually get sucked in — step by step, day by day, hour by hour — until eventually, you’re just as crazy as she is.
The difference is that in my opinion, most women are not crazy at all – it’s just that most guys simply don’t understand female behavior in general and therefore classify them as ‘crazy’ but I AM a crazy girl.
I laugh at those obsessed girlfriend meme because I agree with all of them - for example I stole your shirt and wear it and cry and I'm not washing it because it smells like you crazy. I can literally becoming obsessed with anything from star wars, learning sign language, Lord of things rings to that pussy Peeta from the Hunger Games. My biggest obsession is with people I date, I mean I'm pretty sure ive been dumped 7 times out of 8 and the only time I wasn't the dumpee on the last one is because SHE out crazied me.
I thought I would just write some crazy things I've done and I asked all my friends and they all agreed in unison that following a guy home was the most crazy thing i have ever done.
In my defense he did just get punched in the face by another crazy girl and was upset so I was trying to be cute in a 5km fast passed walking kind of way.
Or how about this old chestnut I literally screen shot photos of my exs new girlfriends and ask EVERYONE, my mum, my dad, my nana, my teachers my friends, my dog... if In fact i am hotter than her?
Oh how about this one time I told my partner to come to my college at uni late at night, but I had a friend in my room and didnt know how to politely ask them to leave, now these are small rooms so I didn't have any other choice but to take my partner into my bathroom and lock the door. Yep, locked it and cornered him. Cute, Ya know?When I think of it I think my partner liked that a bit either way that's just crazy.

It's not just girls though, I was out the other night and was talking to this friend of mine and I was 100% sure we were going to make out he actually looked like one of my exes and I always had a crush on him and when he said he always fancied me oh boy ! You couldn't wipe the smile of my face! I was like I'm going to have a new boyfriend !!! Yep- just from that conversation I got were going to date. Crazy. Anyway, we got talking and he started talking about his ex and I was like oh that's cool... But no... no... Then he showed me the cuts on his wrists and said "I really loved her".
I mean I'm crazy and I pull out that crazy shit all the time and when I get dumped I do just want to crawl in a hole and die, BUT WHY DID HE TELL MEEEEE THAT! I was his future girlfriend it's safe to say I told him to stop that and went on my merry crazy way.

I'm this crazy that someone compared me to that Neil Patrick Harris ratio to the hotter you are the crazier you are and they said I was super crazy, but all I heard was that I was super hot. Boy, did I take that a mile.


It's tragic I think the word is out about me being cray and I have a lot of crazy girl friends we kind of hang out in one crazy ball of psycho always trying to out do each other craziness kind of egging each other on, its unhealthy... But WERE CRAZY...and now the only people who tune me are 16-17 year olds. I will date one of them soon. So keep an ear out, I'll ruin their lives with a smile on my face. Crazy.

The perks of being immature as fuck -R

You know you're irresponsible when your parents organise for somebody else to feed the pets while they're on holiday, even after you told them you'd be home all week :(

I'm not thoroughly dependable. Since I was five years old and started school, regardless of whether I was scoring A+'s or failing classes, one factor remained constant; the teacher's comments about my distinct lack of organisation. For the entirety of my final year of high school I think I made it to homeroom like seven times.

Last year, some friends and I took a trip to a music festival in Tasmania over new years. There was a big group of us so I sat back and let everybody else do all of the organising, and ended up with two duties. Here's what I was supposed to do: a) book my flight to Tasmania, and b) book a bus ticket to the festival.
This is what I did instead: a) booked my flight on the wrong day, and b) did not book a bus ticket and then realised they were sold out.
A couple of the others decided to book their flights early too so that worked out nice and dandy. The bus was more of an issue given that the festival was around 2 hours from where we were staying (believe me, I considered walking.) But in the end I finally got in contact with my mother's gay-brother's ex-partner's cousin's nephew, who hooked me up with a ride, and although they spent a large portion of the drive talking about drugs while I sat there like a scared innocent little nymph, they were actually really cool people!

I'm not advocating getting into cars with strangers, all I'm saying is, without a little immaturity, you mightn't be exposed to new situations.

EG. the time that I challenged my friend's dad and two brothers to an eating competition at Pizza Hut. Admittedly, if I'd eaten my food like a lady I wouldn't have walked away with the worst stomach ache of my life, but nor would I have left with the satisfaction of beating three grown men to claim the (possibly self-proclaimed) title of "Food Queen."

Furthermore, if you're prone to being immature, you get a lot more respect for the times when you do act good. For years when my parents had guests over I would immediately disappear into my bedroom, sneaking slyly past the guests to get food at meal times with averted eyes, avoiding any form of communication with the strangers that had entered my territory.
Nowadays not much has changed! But I can spend five minutes chatting pleasantly with the visitors as I fill a plate with all of the food on display, then wipe my hands clean of responsibility and disappear for the rest of the night and parents are proud as punch!

But overall, I am the way I am because, at least for me, it's WAY MORE FUN. At one point I was renowned for being the too-drunk-girl, and while I apologise to anybody whose night has ever been ruined by me (and believe me, if I ruined your night there's a fair chance I ruined my own), without these experiences I wouldn't have stories to tell!
Like the time I woke up in my friends Uni apartment with a seriously injured toe, with vague memories of aquiring it while trying to break into her uni kitchen to make a toastie. Then when, later in the day, I went to get something out of my purse and literally found an entire meat pie sitting in there, with no recollection as to how that came to be.
Or after my birthday weekend, when I woke up to my friends making jokes about bicycles, thought they were all completely crazy until they showed me a video of myself running up Swanston St screaming "I'M A BICYCLE!! I'M A BICYCLE!!" and demanding to be allowed to run in the bicycle lane.

Even while I pity this woman somewhat, I also hold a large
 degree of respect for her for being such a badass.

For me, the stories are what make me who I am. I find nothing more hilariously entertaining and likeable in a person than the crazy stories that they have to share with me.



I've experienced a lot in my life. I have a lot of opinions, and I'm constantly thinking about the "hows" and particularly the "whys" of life and questioning my own ideals. If you want an in-depth conversation about morals and values then I'm your girl. I'm not dumb. I'm not unintelligent. I'm not intellectually less than any other person. I'm not even completely sure that I consider myself entirely immature. But if that's what I am then hell, I'll own it. That's the way I live my life, and the sole reason that you're able to read this blog! Love it or hate it, the point is that I'm having fun, and I hope that however you're living, you're having it too! xoxo -R

When relatives get irrational -L

When my dad gets irrational.

It was a summers eve, after a glorious day of swimming in the aids infested lake of Benalla with friends, sunburn sinking in my red, raw skin.
My sister, my father and me sat down for a amazing meal of steak, chips and... salad.
I ate all my steak, chips and salad and after my delicious meal I go for more salad from the full salad bowl in the centre of the table. Smashing down the salad I end up finishing the whole entire bowl.
Everyone had left the table, when my dad comes back in, in an extreme rage looking at the empty salad bowl, his eyes glistening with horror. "you've eaten ALL THE SALAD?" he yelled. "I was hungry" I said, gleaming with fear.
"WHAT'S YOU'RE MOTHER GOING TO EAT?" he rawed. "I'll make some more" I sniffed filled up with fear from my dads rage. "ALL THE SALAD? NO!" he retaliated "You will sit here and practice this line... IM SORRY IM A PIG AND I'VE EATEN ALL THE SALAD!" I practiced this line a few times giggling when my sister walked in, but he was serious, dead serious. It must of been hard times in my house hold and lettuce an cheese must of been hard to come by as I was to practice "I'm sorry I'm a pig and I've eaten all the salad" until my mum was to arrive home, filled up with tears not only was my sunburn raw but my eyes were also for the new realization of in fact that had eaten all the salad and that I was a pig. FINALLY after repeating the line maybe 65 times, my mum walked in and my dad yelled "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO YOUR MOTHER!!!" hysterically crying, I coughed out "I'm... Sorry ...I'm a... A pig and... And... I've eaten all the salad!!!" hugging her tightly in extreme apologetics, she looked at me strangely of this most bizarre sentence and simply pushed me away and said "im not hungry i got maccas on the way home" my sister BURST out laughing. I still today will never go for seconds of the salad.

It was another glorious evening, my mother was at work... My dad my sister and I sit at the table, again.
I set the table over the white table cloth and we sit down again for another horrific meal of steak chips and salad... THIS TIME there was a purple cranberry juice stain on the pure white table cloth. "what is this?" my dad pointed at the purple stain, asking my sister and I. Me and my sister both in aggreance of not knowing where the purple stain came from. He asked again "WHERE DID THIS STAIN COME FROM?" we both looked confused. "we dont KNOW!" said my sister. "what so a stain MAGICALLY APPEARED OUT OF THIN AIR DID IT?" we remained still in confusion.... "IT JUST DROPPED FROM THE SKY ALL BY ITSELF, DID IT???"
Me being the smartass I am cocked up and said "maybe klancee did it?" klancee is our dog. This filled my dad with even MORE rage if that was possible! "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" he yelled as he ran into the kitchen bringing back the purple cranberry juice "KLANCEE DID THIS DID SHE?" he yelled he popped of the lid to the cranberry juice THROWING it around the room, hitting everything insight drenching my sister and I in this purple liquid of hell. The table cloth not only now had a purple stain, but so did we, the curtains, the food on the table AND the table cloth was now no longer even white. My sister and I just sat there I could tell we were both about to cry but we held it in until he left, when he did we cried from possibly being like what the actual fuck just happened? We sat there for a few minutes maybe twenty, soaked in cranberry juice. Dad walked back in, we stared blankly at him as he said, "I may have spilt the cranberry juice".