‘Slutty Sundaes’ – I would probably be in a hole of darkness. Not wanting to get out of bed.

Hi sluts,

Wow, how a week makes a difference! A lot has happened since last time I wrote this.

Firstly, I did not go to the next stage in the pitch for ABC. I was quite bummed about it. But I’ve accepted it. Just move on and continue on.

I should have the 360 video, I developed with other students, on YouTube quite soon which is exciting.

I was actually quite sick this week which has been horrible (no one enjoys the shits) but there was a silver lining…I started watching The Sinner, on Netflix, which has been addicting.

Although I’m sensing a good drinking game from it. Every time jessica Biel cries you have a shot. Plus any time you hear that song that triggers her. You’ll just have to watch it if you don’t know what I’m on about.

Lastly, a good friend of mine lost her baby last weekend. She had a stillbirth. The baby’s heart stopped beating. It just so happened to be the week before she was due. Heartbreaking doesn’t even justify the feeling and experience of it all.

Some friends and I stayed with her and her partner. It was a sweet time spent together. It was incredibly sad in moments.

Surrounded by Cockatoos and Kookaburras we ate soft cheeses and laughed about funny festival outfits and dance moves. The lingering thought of a passing child, a child that we should have been holding instead was no longer in our arms reach.

It got me thinking about the way people handle death and traumatic situations.

Being a self confessed Atheist, I find it hard to believe in any religion, God or spirituality. Trust me, I’ve tested it out.

At the flat chested age of 14, I decided religion wasn’t for me. Mainly because my scripture teacher didn’t have the answer to my questions.

A question about why do children with cancer exist, or what happened to all the dead people before any religion was established?

Clearly I was in favour of facts and scientific evidence.

My friend has handled this situation so unbelievably strong. Honestly I cannot believe she’s actually walking and talking whilst carrying this sadness with her. I don’t know how she does it. But then I realised I knew why.

Coming from a world of spirituality, my friend is able to see the light. No, not that one. I mean, the light that continues to burn. Hope.

Hope, that there was a reason for this that has brought many people closer than before the words “I can’t hear her heartbeat…” were uttered by the midwives.

If I were faced with the exact same situation. I would probably be in a hole of darkness. Not wanting to get out of bed. What would be the point? Having lost a child I had never truly met, would be devastating.

But I wouldn’t think that I would meet my child else where or feel their presence. I wished I believed it. I truly did.

Maybe I’ll force myself to because at the end of the day, it sounds a whole lot nicer than just “dead and gone” and that’s it.

I think that’s why ultimately people have to believe in something. It gives them solace in knowing that, the chimes were ringing at the exact moment being told a loved one had passed – that sound was them waving good bye.



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – no body is perfect

Hi sluts,

Hope your week has been well.

Lately, those around me have struggled with body image and self love/appreciation.

I feel like it’s a universal issue with people these days.

I reckon the people who care the least about their thigh gap, thin arms, slender legs, and round breasts or muscular chests for the dudes – are the elderly.

They’ve been through it all. The self doubt, the mirror hating body stance, the restricted diets to maintain a figure.

I just had a bit of a rant on my Facebook page and thought I should share.


No body is perfect.

The perfect lean legs, the toned stomach, the slender yet muscular arms, the thigh gap (wtf?) all these things DO NOT DEFINE US!

I’m so sick of hating on my body. Yes, it’s not perfect. But you know what?

That’s okay!

Perfection is a lofty thinking pattern that does not exist! It doesn’t. Perhaps in a different world.

Growing up I was constantly berating myself with “I don’t have boobs, how unattractive” or “I’m so ugly compared to that girl!”.

I feel so sad that I didn’t appreciate what I had in the moment.

I’m getting better. Everyday is a constant battle yet I know that my body does not define me as a person. It’s merely a vessel of fluid, bones and child bearing hips that I’m so fortunate to have.

So ladies (or gents), rather than focus on what you don’t have. Look at yourself and be grateful for what you do have! I know everyone in some way or form struggles with this.

But if we treated ourselves with gratitude and self appreciation. Imagine how different the world would be!?

Much love and body appreciation heading your way!


Follow this girl! She’s so awesome and all about the self love



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – I have some goals

Hey Sluts,

Guess who technically has finished her studies? This slut right here!

I’m pretty excited and also quite sad. A sadness that triggers the kind of lingering lump in my throat that sometimes makes it hard to talk.

I said goodbye to my teachers at TAFE. Although I know I’ll still see them for a little while longer.

There’s a 360 video I was a part of creating, and I’ve volunteered to complete the edit.

I can only edit that on campus, but I also need to create my CV. And apply for jobs/volunteer.

In all honesty, I want to do so many things at once. I want to learn, grow, experience, meet people and have fun. Whether I continue to study or just start looking for a job I haven’t even really contemplated.

My teachers reckon I should start volunteering at a local station to gain some more experience which I think would be good.

I’ve learnt so many things along the way of this course. But one main point, is that NO matter what you create. Someone is going to hate, critique, enhance, edit or completely change your work. This is something new to me.

For all my working life, I’ve never had to thoroughly edit my work to a standard because it wasn’t like that.

I mean, in child care no one expects you to write a learning story like a hard news piece. As long as it establishes what the child has learnt and developed you’re good to go.

It’s funny though, writing hasn’t been my strongest of points. As much as I would love to write something. It doesn’t come naturally. Again, I’ve learnt this is too a skill to develop and grow.

No one wakes up and ends up being Virginia Wolf or Roald Dahl (two very different writers I know but who popped into my head). They had to work at it and find their groove.

I have some goals.

To write a book, a play and to create a podcast.

I’m aware podcasts are audio but if they’re written well they can be done so beautifully.

Anyway I’m just type vomiting and anything that pops into my head I’m typing. Dogs, popcorn, crates and liver.

I’ll think it’ll be good to crate, I mean, create a consistent theme for Slutty Sundaes. Of course the premise, anything goes, still exists.

But I do need to create a format that lines with some consistency.

Anyways here is a photo of me at a Fashion Design Graduate Show, where I helped film footage with the A&V Department from TAFE.

P.S that mark on the floor is not my pee. Not this time.

#seeyal@terz TAFE! It’s been swell but this isn’t really the end of our relationship.



‘Slutty Sundaes’- Undies, pants, underwear, under garments…

Hi sluts! 

It’s slutty sundae again. 

Hope you’ve been Slutting it up.

Using whatever medium, guilty pleasure or vice you attribute that to. Or just a good sundae. 

I thought I would share an embarrassing moment. Specifically involving underwear. 

Although to be frank, it was more funny than embarrassing. 

Last year, I was working at a camp in Canada. 

It was one of those camps in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a provincial park. 

The camp provided many experiences other than those for just kids coming along with their school. 

Weekends were usually family friendly experiences for parents and kids to get away from the city life whilst having fun. 

This one particular weekend, we had this small family come in. I was working with a guy and a girl I knew from my time there. 

Both Aussies. 

I shared a living space with the guy in a cabin area called ” back of housing.” 

It sounds just as exciting as the name. 

There were about 11 of us sharing this space. So naturally we lived in each other’s pockets. Literally. 

If someone needed to share a laundry run then we could share the cost (it cost us about $5 to wash and dry each wash) and we had designated weeks for cooking nights. 

Back to the weekend, so this family was so sweet. Two small kids plus Mum and Dad. 

We took them on a hike, sang songs, played on an outdoor playground and had a turn aiming for targets with bows and arrows. 

I remember it was a cool morning and I had worn this big hoodie jumper (or a bunny hug  as some Canadians would say). 

But as the day progressed I was sweating and had to lose the hoodie. I tied it around my waist, and continued to walk. 

As we made our way to the archery range and set it up, I placed my hoodie on the ground. 

Something caught my eye where my hoodie lay. 

Something pink. Something made of Lace. Oh my god. Undies! 

Inside the hoodie, were a pair of pink lace undies.

I looked around to see if anyone had noticed. 

Everyone was doing their own thing before the archery range was open. But nothing about what I had witnessed. 

I grabbed the girl I knew and my hoodie taking her behind the shooting area and revealed my discovery. 

We burst into laughter. 

The randomness and potential awkwardness made it incredibly entertaining. 

With tears streaming down our faces,  I had enough breathe to say 


This just made our stomachs ache in laughter even more. 

I had been walking around with pink lace undies in my hoodie the whole day. No one noticed or had bothered to tell me. 

It turned out they belonged to my roommates, her current range of undies. 

Just my luck they were the racey lace kind. 

Have you had an awkward undies story? Do share! 



‘Slut Sundaes’ – Single 4 lyf 

I feel like there needs to be a new wave of celebration. Forget birthdays, birthing children or getting married. 
My name is Ruth and I’ve been single for 8 years. 
My relationship with me has been amazing. I’ve travelled, met new people, experienced foods and smelt new smells along the ride. 

With myself I’ve never felt so comfortable and yet challenged. 

When I was first single, I was scared. 

Unsure of who I was in this relationship I needed to be in control. Thankfully, I didn’t mind. 
This control has pushed boundaries I never thought possible. 
I’ve conquered my ability to have injections, including blood tests.

I wasn’t always able to do this yet I helped myself push through. 
Living overseas for a while took a toll on my relationship with me because I was spending a lot of time with kids.

Somehow I got through this. 
This year has also proven the most challenging for my relationship with me. 

I’ve started studying a new field of work which has been hard for myself. Finding the time for me can really affect how I interact with me. But I’m getting there. 
Anxiety also has been visiting my relationship with myself.

It has tried to break us up many times. Even threatening with the feeling of despair and helplessness. 
It wasn’t until I suggested to myself to attend some anxiety support groups that I’ve felt like has given me a new lease on life. 
Anxiety will always hinder this relationship but I am becoming better at dealing with it and discussing it with myself. 
8 years is a long time but it’s been a roller coaster and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world! 
Sending love to other singles out there that should be appreciated for being with themselves. 

You’re awesome, amazing, worthwhile, and deserve the best partner in the world. You! ❤️❤️

Share this yo!



‘Slutty Sundae’ – How you know you’re a basic bitch

I’m going to be completely honest here…I am a basic bitch. 

I say that in the nicest way possible…to myself. 

But it’s true. I’ve never been extravagant with my purchases for clothes or make up. Unless it’s a wedding…or funeral.  

Here are some of my basic bitch tendencies 

1. I’m probably the only 27 year old I know of, that owns one pair of heels. 

The reason was a wedding so I felt it was necessary to have a pair – considering I didn’t own any. 

That’s a step up. 

2. I have one pair of swimmers ie. bikini – top and bottom. To be fair, I don’t swim as much. 

Mainly due to the fact when I was 12, I neglected to realise that my skin is fair, not tanned. 

Beaching in the aussie sun with my beautifully olive tonned skin friends had me burning with envy. Literally! 

What better action to take than not wear any sunscreen at all! 

That’s what I did. 

But it left me with such bad burns from head to toe – that from then on, I never sat in the sun like that again. My olive skinned friends coated me in yoghurt. 

A sight I never wish to revisit. 

With a weary heart I tried convincing myself I would somehow surpass my genetics. Morphing into a beautifully olive skinned goddess sounded like heaven. 

It has yet to happen. 

But I have realised that I will never ever have a good “tan”. 

3. I still own clothes from 6 years ago. 

I’m not a massive clothes hoarder. I know people own a lot. But I suppose I generally do buy some nice things. I thoroughly make them last. 

Up to the point of holes, stains and missing buttons. 

4. I have one going out hand bag. 

I’m starting to think I have a more minimalist lifestyle than I realise. 

I just don’t need the use of having so many things when I can make what I have last. 

The bag was bought in Canada last year, real leather and has treated me well. 

 5. Lastly my make up collection. 

I used to put an effort into my make up. 

But over time I became lazy, having realised that I wanted to embrace what I had. 

This meant my make up style become as simple as can be. 


Other than a lipgloss, maybe a lipstick, this is it. 

Mascara, foundation and blush. 

The collections I’ve seen girls have are ridiculous. Boxes and boxes of cosmetics, ‘stick this here’ and ‘apply this there’.  

I just don’t get it. 

But, there is good news! 

Today, I went to a neighbours get together – the inaugural street “Girls and goss” (my neighbour invited ladies in my street for goss and champers – champagne). 

A woman that attended, is a beauty therapist. She receives loads of products that she doesn’t use. 

An incredibly sweet hard arsed woman you wouldn’t want to mess with. 

She went to her house returning with 3 large bags of make up. 

I actually got excited. And gave them to us. 

This is huge for me. I now own highlighter! 

I feel like such a girl but I think this will kick my butt into gear. It’ll be nicer to put more of an effort into my looks. 

Not that I don’t but I’ve always had the mentality that we don’t need make up. 

Our natural faces are way more beautiful than what any product can do. Being face naked. 

But…I have to admit, every now and then I do love a good spruce, especially with products named Nudestix. 



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – “Death is an unusual concept really. No animal intellectually has the capacity to think about it. Yet we can.” 

Hi sluts! 

I can’t believe I am admitting this but I nearly forgot to write this Sunday. Granted it’s only been an hour since Sunday here in Sydney, I do feel slightly guilty. 

This weekend was slightly uneventful yet on Saturday I revisited a path I’ve been a few years ago. 
The Death Cafe.

You may be thinking, “…oh god, this sounds morbid.” But it’s not. Not really. 

Together, all of us, we have one massive step that we will all experience. 


Death is an unusual concept really. No animal intellectually has the capacity to think about it. Yet we can.

It’s fascinating. A concept that I’ve thought about many, many times. 

The Death Cafe is not an actual one physcial place. Instead it was held at numerous venues. 

The first time I attended it was held in a snazzy jazz bar converted from a well known brothel. 
Fancy lamps, naked women on the ceiling, Japanese erotica on the walls. The encouraged venue for the immaculate conception of a human. 

Yet there we were talking about death and dying. It was a surprisingly most uplifting experience. 

On Saturday, I headed to a rustic cafe in the south end of Newtown. An area known for its openness in all manners. 

I met the woman who conducts these meetings at a cafe. 

Michele Knight. A doctor in social work and facilitator for the monthly meetings. 

I interviewed her for an up and coming project which I’m pretty excited as it sounds rather compelling. 

The attendees happened to be much older people – I was obviously the youngest. 

I won’t disclose what was said because it’s a very secure, warm, open and highly confidential meeting. 

But I will say, I posed a question to the group. 

Without getting into the path of religion or spirituality, which clearly the group all seemed to follow in some shape or form, I wanted to shake that thought. 

“Just hypothetically, if we all found out that this life was all that there was,”

“Would you live your life different knowing that when you die that’s all there is – nothing else?” 

One person confirmed it wouldn’t. 

The conversation swerved allowing my to divulge in my thoughts on religion.

I don’t need religion to have a moral compass. 

I don’t need to be told what to do. 

I don’t need the notion that if I do good things I will later benefit from it.  

I don’t need to think some Godly figure has granted me a job when in fact I was capable myself. 

And I certainly don’t want to believe that a God would allow children with incurable cancer or born in war torn countries to exist to test my relationship with religion and God. 

I don’t doubt religion has its benefits for people and I totally get that. In all honesty, I’m slightly envious. 

But it just isn’t for me and that’s okay. 

You can check out the Death Cafe online – the link is worldwide and has dates for up and coming meetings within your closet city or town. 



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – Life in colour 

Welcome to this week’s Slutty Sundae. 

I’ve finally had some time to look through my photos from my little break away. 

My partial perfectionism has led me to only hand pick a few photos I really liked. 

Unknowingly I chose a theme of colour so do enjoy. 

The sun’s shift is over. The night sky is about to begin. 

Oh, the prettiest rooster I ever did see. 

Getting lost in the snake-filled forest. 

Nothing better than a colourful heart bench – accompanied by some very loyal doggies. 

This view just instantly made me happy. Being there is just as good as it looks. 

Cafe lovers couldn’t keep their hands off each other – or their eyes for that matter. 

Till next Sunday, don’t forget the true meaning of Slutty Sundaes. A day of rest with little regret yet fulfilled with pleasure. 

Take that how ever you want. 😜



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – when Life hands you bruised bananas. 

Bananas are great. They’re good for you. Easy to eat and take with you on the run. But occasionally you get the odd bruised banana. But is it really a bad thing? 

A friend of mine was just diagnosed with a chronic disease that has great potential to inflict pain and a very physical abnormality. 

It’s a rare condition, one that my friend is in turmoil over it. 

Throughout my life I’ve hated my body. My number one enemy. 

‘Why can’t my legs be more toned?’

‘Why can’t my arms be straight yet muscular?’

‘What if I just took some fat out of my sausage fingers?’ 

The questions and revelations really wouldn’t stop. 

That all being said. I’ve come to appreciate what I DO have rather than what I don’t. 

‘Did you know I have two completely functional legs that can get me from A to B?’ 

‘I know it doesn’t look like it but my arms are actually quite strong.’ 

‘My ass is big, I know. But I actually love how it looks at this angle!’ 

Believe me, I wasn’t always like this. 

I would write in my journal every week about how ugly I was. 

How there was nothing going for me because I was that hideous.

How everyone just pitied me and that was why they were surrounding themselves around me. 
I once attributed myself to the “Ugly Duckling” because have no boobs or my period meant there was clearly something wrong with me. 

But as time moved on, I’ve begun to appreciate what I do have. 

It takes a lot of hours, dedication, changing your thought patterns and really just not giving a fuck about what people think. 

If someone doesn’t like something about you. Fuck em. 

You’re not here on this planet for said person. You are here for you. 

This is what I’ve been trying to tell my friend. But she’s so enthralled in this idea that she is hideous because of said condition. I assure you, she isn’t. 

Much like a bruised banana, once you delicately peel away each side you’re presented with a imperfectly perfect banana. 

I believe if we appreciated ourselves better we would treat others better. 

But maybe that suffering DOES form itself into something better. 

But ultimately it’s up to you to change that mentality. 

Trust me, it’s not an easy path. But slowly I’m peeling away the bruised skin filled with bad thoughts and self doubt. To eating that damn deliciousness and appreciating it filling my tummy. 



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – I have to say, I have found my retirement village. 

How has everyone’s week been? 

I was away from last week and had a day off class. 

A much needed break. 

Sometimes it just helps getting out of the big smoke. Visiting little towns like Nimbin who pride themselves in herbal fixes, hemp and “Pit paste”. 

We, my parents and older brother, were staying with my Godfather. He was present at my birth 27 years a go, subsequently seeing my mum’s vagina. 

The first day my brother and I headed to Dreamworld in Queensland’s Gold Coast, or should now be called ‘No-people-world’. 

Apart from the short lines allowing us to go on rides way too many times – to my inner child’s delight. 

It was also quite deserted. 

Last year’s devastating incident which left 4 adults dead from a ride, must have had an affect on the crowds. 

Google ‘Rapid Water ride – Dreamworld deaths if you want to know about it all. 

The staff there were very friendly and seemed to all be in good spirits. 

A few days after, we went to a family friends house in Federal, Northern NSW. A beautiful in land location surrounded by hills, trees and farmland. 

At 27 years of age, I can say I have found my retirement village. 

If this view doesn’t convince you, I wouldn’t know what will. 

The sun was streaming between the outside decking. As it rested on the horizon creating an ambience that left me feeling way more appreciative of life than usual. 

Birds were singing as I looked over the hill and down the backyard were black cows sitting comfortably under the trees nearby. 

Never had such a moment felt so peaceful. 

On our last day, we ventured to this lovely little secluded waterfall called Northbridge in Lamington National Park (so Aussie!) which was amazingly tiny but so pretty. 

We were walking towards the waterfall when my brother said to my mum. “Keep walking”, she turned to her right and there was a huge 3-metre python snake just making its way towards the path. 

Luckily my mum’s swearing made the snake head in the opposite direction. 

Eventually we headed to the cave, with tiny bats flying around in circles in the darker parts of the cave. 

And we embraced the view. 

Needless to say, I need to take a break from the city more often!