Three down, One to go

Today I completed my third year of university. For many at this point it’s means for celebration because there are flat hats and oversized gowns waiting just around the corner for them in preparation for a marvellous ceremony more commonly known as “graduation.”


Good one!


There haven’t been many moments where I’ve questioned my choice to do a double degree, but as I sat in the library completely my final “exam” (yeah, if open book, online quiz, no real restrictions over than a 2 hour time limit really counts as an exam) hitting submit really had no impact.

There is still


It’s one more year of attempting to find industry internships, one more year of working as a retail slave to pay the bills, one more year of textbooks, tutorials, lectures (yes of course I attend my lectures…), assignments, exams, trying not to develop a drinking problem, ignoring my actual caffeine problem, pretending I get 8 hours of sleep each night, all whilst attempting to have some form of social life.

After all university is just like riding a bicycle, without a helmet, or pedals, or handle bars, and the bikes on fire.


Although I complain, there is some comfort sitting in this little bubble of repetitiveness, and at this point in time I wouldn’t really be ready to hand over my $10,000 piece of paper to whichever offices I stumble upon, DEMANDING they put me on TV at once!

So what now? Yet another Christmas of watching queues go out the door in my little retail job while trying to explain to people that the backroom isn’t actually this magical portal that leads to a warehouse of stock but in reality is around the same size as a shoe box? Well yes, my degree isn’t over yet and I still need to pay my rent (damn capitalism, am I right!?).


Will I be spending the summer writing as much as I can, handing in resume to various media outlets (including a magazine that I have just discovered is based literally around the corner from my house)? Absolutely.


So here’s to the completion of my third year of tertiary education, three down one, more to go.

That’s something I can drink to.


An Ode To The Sun

On this overly delightful sunny day with a zero per cent chance of rain, I feel the breeze of the north easterly winds brush past and I am overcome with sense of euphoria.


The feeling quickly transports into despair as I realise while the sun is calling me “Liana! Liana! Come outside and play!” I must respond with a phrase I have uttered far too many times.

“No, I cannot, for you see I have to do my assignment”


The breeze comes to a halt as a scent of disappointment fills the room. It is as if to say the sun came out today especially for me (nothing to do with the earth rotating) and I have betrayed it.

All the sun has asked of me was to come visit the beach but the only thing I am swimming drowning in is the bucketloads of work I am yet to complete. Instead of waves crashing down on me, it is deadlines and word limits. Instead of the salt from ocean, my tears are leaving a bitter taste. Instead of relaxing on the sand, I am lying on the floor asking if I have the will to go on. Instead of building sand castles, I am building paragraphs of business jargon. Instead of impressing attractive life guards, I am hoping to impress middle aged businessmen (and in a totally different manner). Instead of surfing through the sea, I am surfing the web in search of information I may never use again.


The sun says to me “How could you do this? How could you prioritise uni over this beautiful day?”
“Sun you have to understand, I have to do this work! I have no choice!” I respond.
But you see the sun attended university in the Whitlam era and it didn’t matter if it failed because tertiary education was free back then.
“As your punishment for betraying me, I will MAKE. IT. RAIN.”

And so, the weather for once my assignments are finally submitted, clouds, rain, and storms.


Manic Pixie Dream Girl Reality Check

There she is, sitting there at a cafe no one’s actually heard of cause it’s so underground – probably called C8H10N4O2 (chemical compound for caffeine, because that’s hipster-geek). On her table, a vegan soy mocha frappe, in her hand a classic Penguin novel, probably ‘The Great Gatsby’. On her iPod classic, The Smiths are playing, with some other band you’ve probably never heard of.  She’s got green hair and some sort of facial piercing and maybe a tattoo on her sternum which just the thought of brings back memories of your first boner as an 11-year-old.


And she is obviously PERFECT. I mean her vegan drink means she cares about animals, right? So she’s obviously loving. Her classic novel? An appreciation for REAL literature, not just trashy celebrity gossip magazines like most girls. Oh and The Smiths! Finally someone who appreciates AUTHENTIC MUSIC not the techno rubbish you hear on the radio these days. Her green hair and other modifications show she’s confident, sassy, and doesn’t care what other people think. And just by looking at her, you know she’s the one! She’s got a cool name too, like Ailish or Indigo or something, which, as you can imagine, flows so nicely with your last name.

It’s obvious just by staring at her from 10 metres away that you are destined to be together. Finally you’ve found her, your manic pixie dream girl. You muster up the courage to talk to her and seem to get along well enough – not that it’s a surprise cause you’re definitely soulmates – which leads to meeting up, hanging out, and getting to know each other.


This is where you find out the following:
– She was only drinking that vegan drink because she’s lactose intolerant, doesn’t actually care about animals and purposely runs over toads when she can.
– She was only reading The Great Gatsby because she thought Leonardo DiCaprio was really hot in the film, but gave up on the novel within the first few chapters.
– Her shelves are filled with copies of Vogue, Cosmo, and even the occasional Who magazine.
– Her favourite shows are Keeping Up With The Kardashians and Geordie Shore
– She knows one song by The Smiths. You guessed it, ‘There Is a Light That Never Goes Out’, which she only knows from 500 Days of Summer (which she thought Joseph Gordon-Levitt was really hot in).
– The rest of her iPod is filled with top 40 music.
– She woke up at 4am to buy Justin Bieber tickets only a few weeks ago.
– The hair? A mistake. She was trying to go blonde at home but mixed it all wrong and ended up with a green colour she never wanted to have.
– Her piercing was a dare from her best friend (who you simply can’t stand) and her tattoo… well turns out there is no sternum tattoo.


But wait a second? This isn’t the girl you fell in love with at C8H10N4O2? Is it? No that girl was cultured, she loved REAL art, and CARED about animals? Why does she shorten her gorgeous name Indigo, the same shade as her eyes, to the name Indi? This is clearly NOT the girl who you met at that cafe and you only have one option now but to bail. I mean how dare she not be exactly as you envisioned?

So tomorrow when you see Ailish sitting at C8H10N4O2 reading Catcher in The Rye with her steaming hot green tea, you’ll know this time around you’ve definitely found the one.


Double Degree Dialogue

“So Liana, tell me a bit about yourself, what do you do?”
“So, I’m studying at the moment, working casually, and doing an internship”
“Oh cool, what are you studying?”
“I study a double degree in Journalism and Business, majoring in Public Relations.”


Category 1: I know nothing about either of those things

– “That’s cool, which one are you leaning towards?”
– “What do you want to do with that?”
– “Haha, double degree! Bet you’re going to be at uni forever!”
– “Wow that must take up ALL your time!”
– “That’s really cool I know nothing about either of those things I never finished high school.”
– “You should get an internship.”
– “Haha so you’re gonna be on TV?”
– “What’s your dream job?”
– *blank stare* “What’s that?”


Category 2: I have a friend who studies Media and Communications/Mass Communication so I assume that’s the same thing

– “You should have a back up.”
– “I bet you’re going to meet so many celebrities!”
– “I saw Osher Günsberg in person once so I can probably get you a job.”
– “You should get an internship.”

(Source: Saturday Night Live) 

Category 3: I know someone who studies Journalism as well

– “Journalism is a dying industry, you’re smart to have a back up!”
– “My sister used to date Karl Stefanovic, bet she could get you a job!”
– “I used to date Karl Stefanovic, bet I can get you a job!”
– “You should get an internship.”
– “You should start a blog.”
– “You should get Twitter.”
– “You should get LinkedIn.”
– “You should go online, newspapers are dying!”
– “Too bad no one watches TV anymore!”
– “Journalism is so bad the media is so corrupt!”
– “I hear journalism is a really cut-throat industry.”
–  “You should definitely do journalism!”


Category 4: I know someone who

A: studies marketing or advertising and I assume they’re the same thing

– “Does that mean you get no electives? That sucks dude!”
– “Do you think you’ll work for an agency?”
– “You should get an internship.”
–  “PR is so bad it’s all just spin!”

B: I know someone who studies business and don’t understand the concept of majors

– “So what kind of job can you get from that?”
– “You should start your own business.”
– “You should get an internship.”
– “It’s not about how smart you are, it’s about who you know!”
– “My aunt runs a business I bet she can get you a job!”

C: I know someone who studies PR

– “Thats cool! I know someone who studies PR!”
– “PR is all just partying!”
– “You should get an internship.”


Category 5: I study Journalism

– “Oh yeah I study journalism too!”
– “I study journalism as well at (insert rival uni).”
– “I study journalism but with (insert degree other than business).”
– “I can’t believe you’re studying the dark arts!”
– “PR people are so annoying!”
– “I thought you looked familiar, were you in (insert class) last year?”
– “Sucks you’re doing a double, I study journalism and love electives.”
– “You should do PR.”
– “You should get an internship.”


Category 6: I study Public Relations

– “I study PR as well!”
– “Journalists are so annoying!”
– “I study PR at (insert rival uni).”
– “I study PR but with (insert other degree or second major).”
– “You should get LinkedIn.”
– “You should get an internship.”
– “Do you think you’ll work for an agency?”
– “Journalism is a dying industry, you should do PR!”


Category 7: I study a double degree in Journalism and Business majoring in Public Relations

– “Same.”


Mental Illness Does Not Define You


I saw a post today in a Facebook group asking if you would date someone with anxiety or depression.

It really struck a cord with me, that someone would even ask this at all, as if a person’s mental illness was what entirely defined them and no other factor about that person made any difference.

I really want people to start talking about mental illness the same way we talk about diabetes.

I’m going to put a little side note here and say I am not a doctor, I’m not a psychologist, I’m not a nurse, so all this information is simply from my own research.

Let me explain diabetes for a second. Diabetes is when the body is unable to convert glucose into energy due to lack of a hormone called insulin. A diabetic either has no insulin or does not produce a sufficient amount. 

Each type of diabetes has its own complications and there are other factors involved but for the point of this post this is what you need to know.

Diabetes is very manageable. A diabetic will inject insulin into their body, monitor their blood sugar levels and try their best to maintain healthy diet and exercise.

I personally know a number of people with diabetes. Generally when I find out someone has diabetes I don’t decide it is their most defining factor. I try to change my behaviours in order to help them manage their diabetes by doing things like making sure when we go out to eat there is something on the menu that would be suitable for them, and with some of my closer diabetic friends even offer to help with insulin injections when needed.

So to sum up, diabetes is a lack of insulin, treated by medication and managing their blood-glucose levels.

I know there are lots of different types of mental illnesses but for the point of this post I’m going to talk specifically about depression.

Depression is a chemical imbalance. It is where the brain doesn’t produce enough serotonin, norepinephrine and dopamine. These collectively are known as monoamines – or the mood-related chemicals. 

Again there are a number of other factors surrounding depression, but for now this is what you need to know.

There are a lot of different ways to treat depression, but the most common ones are taking antidepressants to help restore those chemical levels, and seeing either a psychologist or psychiatrist to look into the root causes of the depression and learning how to manage it.

So to sum up, depression is a lack of monoamines, treated by medication and learning to manage living with the illness.

I’m hoping at this stage the point I’m trying to bring across has become obvious. The two conditions, both nearly as common as the other, are very very similar medically.

So why is it that one of them makes us entirely change the perspective of how we view a person and the other is more likely to make us change our behaviour in order to help that person?

I want us to start talking about mental illness the same way we talk about diabetes, because just like diabetes, mental illness does not define a person.


  3. My own experiences

Nice Guys Finish Last

My most recent musing is starting to make me feel a little bit like Carrie Bradshaw. Talking to my friends about this, seeing where there is common ground and asking the ultimate question of, why are we like this?


I recently matched with someone on tinder –  lets call him Dan* – who seemed like a cool enough person so we chatted for a while before eventually sharing numbers.

I need to add a disclaimer here, where even though I know “I’m really busy” is a well known excuse for rejecting someone; between uni, working casually, and interning at a radio station, I am genuinely a really busy person. 90% of the time when I say this I am being legitimate.


Things seemed to be running smoothly with Dan so we agreed to meet up. Despite these plans and genuinely being extremely busy for a couple of weeks, I started to lose interest in Dan extremely fast. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good compliment just as much as the next person, but being constantly flattered and having unnecessary praise put onto you, especially from someone who barely knows a thing about you is a big no from me.  And so what originally was a genuine “I’m really busy” has turned into something less authentic.


Two of my closest friends ended their most recent relationships for similar reasons. I have heard both of them say the exact phrase “he was too nice.”  The one, now ex-boyfriend, I did meet I can totally agree with my friend.  He is easily one of the nicest people I know. But in terms of relationships this can be unappealing to a fault. Of course in both of these scenarios there were other circumstances which led to the break-ups, but the one thing they both had in common was niceness.


“But Liana, isn’t that exactly what you wanted from Tom* and Larry*?” my good friend Amity would ask. Well yes Amity, maybe this is true, but maybe I would have never been interested in Tom or Larry in the first place if they had been nice people?

Earlier in the year I was casually seeing Tom. He wasn’t an absolute asshole but “nice” is probably the last word I would use to describe him. Sometimes my texts got replies, other times he made it super obvious he was getting with someone else, on occasion I’d get the inappropriate question, and maybe if I was lucky we would get to hang out – on his terms of course. Reflectively the whole situation was pretty messed up, I haven’t heard from Tom in 3 months (and that’s probably for the best).


Larry was much nicer but also more confusing. In person things were happy as, well Larry, and yet I still would be lucky to get replies to my texts, was talked to in quite a rude manner, and still could only hang out on his terms. Time with Larry was short lived and I know now that things ended due to him starting a serious relationship with someone else. I can only hope that Larry is treating this person better than he did me.

I think maybe we are all searching for a middle ground. Somewhere between being nice enough that I’m going to hear back from you but not so nice that your corny messages and excessive compliments make me want to puke.

Source: Hulu

Until next time, Liana out.

*yes I did change these names, could you imagine, Liana and Larry. Ha.


As I was sitting in the bathroom reapplying my fake tan, right after spending the night getting my fake nails put on, something occurred to me. Why is it that I put this sort of effort into my appearance?

I’ve got one word for you: self-esteem. (After having a debate as to whether that is one or two words, can confirm is one).  Other than getting that Offspring song stuck in my head, the whole concept of self-esteem really gets me thinking.

I mean in terms of why I get my nails done and put fake tan on the answers are obvious. 1. Fake nails stop you chewing your actual nails (gross but true), 2. So I can look more Italian, which is obviously any Italian-Australian’s life goal.

So really, neither of those things are really a self-esteem issue. But I do remember being 14 years old and being super judgemental of the people who did these exact same things. It brings me back to the original question, why put in all this effort? Perhaps some people do feel embarrassed by the whiteness of their skin (I mean same, but that’s a racial issue and for another day), or maybe they put layers upon layers of makeup on to cover up some nasty acne scarring?

Funnily enough back in the day when I was 14 and had the same amount of self esteem as Donald Trump has brain cells, caking on layers of makeup along with drawing on eyeliner so thick that I’d be giving Taylor Momsen a run for her money, was very much about being ashamed.

Source: imgur

Now days you still won’t see me leave the house** without a layer of foundation and winged eyeliner on at the least, but just like the fake tan and the fake nails it’s not really a self esteem issue anymore. In some ways it’s the exact opposite.

I could go on a massive rant about how messed up it is that young girls are so ashamed of the way they look at this age, and I know it’s not just me. I had a friend who covered up every mirror in her house because her self-esteem was that bad. I could go on about how it’s a collective issue of tv shows hiring 20-year-old actors to play 15-year-old characters, or magazines advertising EVERY possible beauty product under the sun (obviously including fake tan).

Source: Nickeloden

Instead I’m trying to work out what was the exact moment where I told myself that stuff didn’t matter? I know for certain that I am not entirely comfortable in my own skin, but I do know that I’m getting there. I know that instead of trying to cover up how I look with layers of makeup I use simple products to highlight one of my favourite features, that being my eyes.

Source: Amity Bailey

I guess the point I’m trying to get at is, even despite the acrylics at the ends of my hands, or the not-so-natural glow (which did I mention is completely skin cancer free), or those little black strokes which seem to be permanently on my eyelids, it’s not necessarily a self-esteem issue, it’s about showing the world your best face, literally and metaphorically.


**the small exception to this rule is either on the rare occasion I have to be somewhere before 6am or the just as rare occasion I’m doing some sort of physical exercise


“You should make a portfolio”

Hello there. This is my brand new blog featuring the thoughts and musings of me, Liana.

Source: Funny Junk

I previously had a blog. I quite liked running it as well, facing the challenge of trying to appeal to a certain audience, whilst putting effort into researching the types of things I wanted to write about, and collaborating that with what people want to read about.

Alongside blogging, I figured there’s nothing wrong with consolidating the previous works I’ve completed so any potential employers (I’m looking at you ABC, SBS, Channel 10, Channel 9, and Channel 7) can be like, hell, she’s actually done stuff, that’s pretty cool, we should give her a PAID job. ???

Basically, a portfolio. Something my good friend Amity and I recently were discussing. And what better way to share a portfolio than on the world wide web alongside my rantings?

Amity Conversation

Paper resumés are old school anyway. Even if I was to make like Amity and provide a portfolio of the dick pics that I’ve received over the years*** (some would be familiar of the infamous “dick with no balls”) at least I’d have somewhere to share it?

So basically welcome to my blog. Two-Point-Oh. Hope you enjoy your stay.

Liana out.

Source: Justin Garbett, Reactions Editor Animated GIF

***Yes I am very aware of the legality in regards to sharing these forms of images, so if you came here for dick pics I’m sorry to disappoint, it’s a no from me.