The Ruby Knight Chronicles

Have you ever thought about what you want to do with your life? I mean, asides from the regular every day stuff like having a job, being a parent, catching all the Pokémon before your friends, being the best stripper in the club, etc Like what do you really really really really wanna zigazigahhh? Maybe you have dreams of eating different cheeses in every country of the world. Or perhaps you want to learn how to breakdance and be back up for Beyonce. Or maybe you have dreams of world domination. Yes I'm talking about the big stuff. The memoir worthy shit. The things you used to fantasise about as a child. Somewhere along the way, being an adult seems to dull the shine of our thoughts of grandeur. We end up focusing on the boring basics, like how am I going to pay rent or who the fuck keeps leaving the toilet seat up?!! We get distracted. And it's not necessarily a bad thing, because successful adulting generally requires our full attention, but it's usually not until...

A snapshot of traumatic/hilarious moments in my life that have ended unexpectedly positively. Thus proving that rock bottom humiliation has surprising benefits, you just have to know how to laugh at yourself first.  I once farted long and loud while sitting in front of the guy I really liked, and a bunch of other kids, and the wind of my ass made the wet togs I was wearing ripple across my left b utt cheek. I thought my chances with hot dude were ruined. Turns out he thought I was funny and the next day we ended up hitting primary school third base; hand holding. I have refused to eat seafood ever since I was a little kid. My parents told me fish fingers were made from chicken. I believed their treachery until I became the brunt of public laughter at dinner one night on a school camp. I proclaimed loudly that I didn't eat fish and then went on to eat fish fingers. I think I was like twelve. Definitely old enough to know better. Bright side is the knowledge that one day I...

I've got a fucked up face so I'm using Snapchat to hide my downfalls  😂 Well. Not really. But I do have a terrible case of acne, particularly on my chin and jawline, that has been plaguing me pretty much since I got back from NZ. I've been on antibiotics for months, all of which haven't helped and have only kicked my butt because I'm really intolerant to them. And because it's been going on for mo nths without getting better, my normal run of the mill acne then went on to become cystic acne, which is not only ugly asf, but very painful too. Huge deep cysts under the skin that you can feel constantly and are very hard to get relief from because of how deep they are. In other words, the motherload. After a myriad of blood tests and doctor visits, I've been told I'm healthy and my hormones are normal so no one really knows what is causing my face to freak out so much. As a beauty therapist I have some idea about how to deal with acne, but everythin...

For any kiwis thinking about traveling across Australia, here's a few handy pointers; 1. Check under every toilet seat. Use your foot for bonus points. Just trust me on this.  2. Don't be afraid to take the road less traveled. Just make sure you've got roadside rescue because sitting in the middle of nowhere in desert-like heat is a wee bit of a holiday downer. 3. Do not swim anywhere unless it's chlorinated. Sharks, crocs, jellyfish and snakes don't seem to like swimming pools. 4. You might think sunblock is for pussies but just wait and see how tough you are when your nipples are peeling. 5. If you're driving cross country, be prepared for a fuck load of nothing. Scenic routes usually mean hours of staring at dirt. 6. Kangaroos suck. Don't let their cute confuse you. They're large suicidal assholes that rejoice in fucking your car's shit right up. Extra tip- drive when the sun is up, roos are apparently scared of the sun. 7. Petrol prices h...

I've been wanting to post about International Women's Day all day and with that post, include a bombass photo with bombass makeup and hair. But unfortunately this girlie has been busy at work. So here's me. All worn out after a long day in the heat of the Australian outback. Makeup half sweated off and hair all a mess. And I don't even care. Because as a woman in 2017, I know there's far greater t hings to worry about than just how I look. So here goes... Last night I watched Married At First Sight. And a groom by the name of Andrew had been talking absolute shit about his bride and then used the excuse of "it was boy's night" in a pathetic attempt to brush his wrongdoings under the rug. And what made it worse was one of the fellow boy's night attendees backed him up in his lies. But before the blood of all ovary-bearing damsels could boil right over, along came a simple country bloke riding in on his white horse armed with truth and justic...

Do you know what grinds my girl gears more than anything? That successful women HAVE to be beautiful women. Just about every female "role model" that we have is usually famous for being good looking. Yet their male counterparts seem to have been excluded from this beauties-only club. But why?  Why do females have to feel attractive in order to feel powerful? Why are there so many superficial conditions thrust upon our sex? And what can we do to make a positive change for ourselves, and the women we know and love? Just about every photo I post, goes through a rigourous "will men still want to sheetsaddle me after seeing this photo?" check... Pimples? Photoshop. Eyebags? Photoshop. Extra lumps and bumps? Photoshop. Just plain ugly? Photoshop. No friends/life outside of Netflix? You guessed it. Photoshop. The rise of social networking has given more push on the rise for appearance perfection. It's most evident in our disgust at being tagged in photos that l...

Someone once told me that I expected too much from a partner. And it got me thinking, maybe I do and that's why I'm still single? So here's a few things I'd like from the future Mr Knight, and if it's asking too much, y'all better let me know or the SPCA will be fresh outa cats #1 He needs to be funny as fuck because it can't be left to me to carry us both. #2 He needs to be patient as fuck. Because me. #3 He needs to be caring as fuck because I'm a sensitive needy little fucker that needs more attention than a newborn. #4 He needs to be randy as fuck to be able to keep up with me. Batteries are too damn expensive! #5 He needs to be stubborn as fuck to be able to outdo my Ox-like will. #6 He needs to be frugal as fuck to withstand my shopping spree storms. #7 He needs to be Henry Cavil as fuck. Because Henry Cavil. #8 He needs to be understanding as fuck especially when we're running late and I make us later because fuck you eyeliner. #9 He...

A lot of men seem to be advocating the "Friends With Benefits' movement nowadays. Which to me is just a man that's keen on all the perks of dating minus the effort of actually committing. It's bullshit fed to us ladies in the hopes that we'll be desperate enough to eat it up. And a lot of us do, because we're confused about feminism and girl sexual power, or we're rekindling a halfassed affair wit h a previous lover, or we're scared of commitment ourselves or we're just plain lonely. But we're selling ourselves short here girls. Remember that old saying about not buying a cow that's giving away free milk. Well. We're the cows. And our milk is far more precious than a 2am drunken text asking "come mine?". Sex is an amazing beautiful powerful thing. And the only thing that makes it better is having a connection that's more than just a physical one. We're being sold relationship propaganda by society, by men and by...

The end of a love affair.  I'm flying back home to Australia this weekend, and I had planned on catching a bus to my ex's house and having him drop me off at the airport after spending a few days with him. But ever since we made those plans, I have been in two minds about it.  I really enjoyed our new years together and would have loved loved loved more time with him.  But... I felt my heart getting sucked right back into that tragic love bubble that it always weasels its way into. And after years of putting my wants before my best judgement, I've finally learnt that I can't keep putting myself into situations where I'm only bound to get hurt. Plus it'd mean 2 less days with my family, who will always be in my life, unlike menfolks. So tonight I text him and fessed up to being the owner of a hopelessly romantically pathetic little heart and that because of that embarrassing little fact, my plans have now changed and my mum will be driving me up to the ai...

Something powerful comes from knowing your worth. I've always pretended to have self confidence, but deep down underneath it all, I'm a total shambles. I used to think that if I lost enough weight, had whiter teeth, danced better, had blonder hair, was richer, etc than I'd be beautiful. I'd be desirable. I'd be worthy of love. But I tried all of that. I changed who I was and what I looked like m ore often than a stripper changes gstrings. And none of it changed how I felt inside. I was never good enough. For anyone. Or so I thought. It turns out that I really was just never good enough for myself. But as I approach my 30th birthday, I realise I've wasted so much of my life caring way too fucking much about way too fucking little. And all of that mindguff has done nothing but lead me down dead end streets with dead end results. I've let myself sink into a lovelife limbo in the hopes that my ex will wake up one day and realise he can't live without...

Dating is a lot like playing a game. There's usually two players (sometimes more depending on the game you like/how kinky you are), some set rules and a whole lot of moves to make before winning. Sometimes players cheat, sometimes they play fair. But for the most part, there's always a strategy involved. Especially when it comes to men. I've seen and heard it all. The white lies. The empty gestur es. The game plans whether they be fantastic, flawed or full of shit. I've been ego-patted, gift-showered and flat out accosted with sexual innuendos. In the world of online dating, sometimes I get virtual flowers, but most times I just get dick pics. If a guy makes a move, I can usually pick his game from a mile off. And it amazes me at just how few of us girls that can actually do the same. So I've put together a little list of the most obvious and outrageous players and their plays, and hopefully it'll arm the lasses with more of a fighting chance in the craz...

I've dated the nicest guy in the world. A man that opened my car door, brought me flowers on every date, was incredibly kind and compassionate, genuinely cared about me, messaged me in the morning to wish me a happy day and messaged me at night to find out all about my day. He was perfect. On paper. But even just writing this, I can't help but.... <YAAAAAAWN> Poor bloke. There was absolutely noth ing wrong with him. But there's clearly a defect in my man-liketh muscle. I turn my nose up at the nice guys, I wish I didn't, life would be fuckloads easier if I didn't. Unfortunately I like the bad guys. The ones with a streak of asshole in them. The ones you know not to bring home to your parents. The ones that always break your heart. So what the fuck is my problem?!! Clearly I know the nice guys are the better bet, but try as I might, eventually I end up walking right over them and then walking away. So it got me thinking about men. What kinds of categori...

They say when you've moved on from something, it doesn't hurt you anymore. But I think that's bullshit. I had such a good night with my ex last night. But it was twinged with a little something sad. We were getting on famously like old times, laughing at our tragic events of 2016 and reminiscing on our old times. And then the subject of dating came up. So I've obviously been on a few dates mysel f so I apparently cannot expect him to live his life without love. I know, wtf right. But I didn't expect hearing about it to affect me as much as it did, or even at all. It not only surprised me a little, but it made me feel a little down. Now I know we can never be together like we were, because I've got a whole new life in a completely different country to him but mostly because we can openly admit that we're terrible together. Like swimming in the ocean after a vadge wax terrible. But I guess I've always subconsciously fanned this little flicker of ho...

I'm 29. A few years back I forced a drunken pact on an ex that if we're both single by the time I'm 32, we'll have a baby together. It probably seems a bit silly or lacking in sentiment or just batshit crazy to you guys, but I think it's a wee bit genius. I love my ex. I love his values. I think he'd make an amazing father one day. And let's face it, my barren womb is only getting more and more  useless as the years tick by and no babies inhabit it. So fuck convention. Fuck the norm. Fuck what anyone else snickers about behind closed doors, because gossipers are never forthcoming to the subject of their gossip, with their gossip. I want to be a Mum. One day. And if having a "backstop" babymaker means being one step closer to that goal, then I'm riding that crazy train all the way to motherhood. Life is a blank canvas just waiting for you to splash some paint on it. There are no lines to colour between. The are no rules. You just make yo...

First week of work without the bosses. And fuck my asshole and call me a cowboy, did our first week test us. Day one. Woken up at 330am. Someone smashed the driver's window of our work van. Left the GPS and $200 in the ashtray. Stole some apples and my undies off the line. Bless.  Day two. No real hitches except for finding out that the panty apple thieves also stole knives from the butcher and are on an animal-mutilating, pre-serial killer spree. Mad comforting. New accommodation out of town though. Lush accommodation. My own freaking apartment fit for a queen accommodation even. Day three. Late finish. Drove home in the dark petrified of kamikazee kangaroos. No fatalities with the exception of my nerves. Day four. Some little fucker stole a prop chair. Another late finish. Another white-knuckled drive home in the dark. Day five. Even later finish. No real sales. Feeling like a bullshitter selling bullshit instead of a sales girl selling photos. Still no suicidal marsupials....

As you get older, your amount of fucks to give away diminishes, along with your ovary omelette makers. So, you find yourself letting go of cares and concerns that once seemed Everest, and now in age, have become those waste of time road bumps that are so little that you don't even need to slow down for them. Some people refer to aging as the gaining of wisdom or maturity, but in actual fact, it's more like an increasingly lazier approach to fuck giving. I'm not quite over the hill yet, but my days of certain fuck giveth and taketh have long since died out, and with that comes a sense of freedom and independence, but mostly a sticketh to the maneth attitude born of aging rebellion. Things that used to stress me to the point of alcoholism back in my teens, no longer seem so significant in the grand scheme of things. A few years ago I found a rogue grey hair. I plucked the fucker out but I'm pretty sure it planted the seed of carefreeness which has been silentl...

2nd July 2016 Word to the wise; don't get sick in aussie if you don't have medicare. So I spent last night in the ER. What started off as a migraine turned into an abscess turned into a severe sinus infection. After 6hrs in the waiting room in pain without painkillers, I was fiiiiiinally taken in to be seen by a doctor. In my 12hr stay, I had to give 3 urine samples (try peeing into a tiny cup 3 times withou t your hand wearing it, those odds are not in your favour), had needles in both arms and eventually the lure pierced through my artery pumping my right arm and hand full of fluids like Nutty Professor style, was given a morphine overdose and had my blood pressure skyrocket to stroke material and then my poor wee heart was thumping harder than a Kardashian on tape which lead to a full blown anxiety attack that I was growled for by a cuntpunch of a nurse (because anxiety is toooooootally something we can control...), gloriously vomited profusely into 2 sick ba...

27th June 2016 Drama llama. We all know at least one. If you've been living under a solitude rock and don't know what a drama llama is, let me enlighten you;  "Hey Barbara, how was your day?" "The universe hates me" "Ohhh, why do you say that Barbsy?" "I broke a nail. Chris won't text me back after I accused him of cheating on me. He reckons he was just taking his Mum to the doctors but I'm pretty sure the doctor is a girl and no doubt she's hot so of course he's just finding excuses to see her, I'm not buying this "mum's got pneumonia" nonsense he's trying to sell me. And if that's not bad enough, my car battery went flat because the sodding lights didn't turn off when i got out like I'm sure that's a manufacture fault, what kind of idiot made lights that stay on when you're not even in your damn car. And my beautician went on maternity leave the selfish tart and so now ...

26th June 2016 I learnt 3 things this weekend; #1 not everyone that cares, listens. #2 not everyone that listens, doesn't care. #3 not everyone that karaokes, sings. If it wasn't for the random yet much-needed invitation out to karaoke night by a lovely young chap, and pita pit (can't get enough of the stuff) the weekend would have been a bit of a bust really (after a full day spent searching for a Dita dress to no avail). I had so much fun on my surprise excursion that I even ended up singing in front of the room full of inebriated strangers, much against the advice from my brain and much to do with the encouragement from fellow karaokers and alcoholic beverages. I had resigned myself to weekends and free time spent mostly alone with Cookie Cats (like candy crush but with cute cats  🐈 ) and was ready for bed before 8pm last night. And then along came a friendly albeit completely unexpected message inviting me for a night out, in the hopes that I wouldn...

22nd June 2016 Week three at the gold coast.  What a hard, emotional and rather lonely journey my time in Australia has been so far. I've had to step outside my comfort zone more times than ever before and every day brings a new challenge to rise to. The hardest one is by far having to keep myself to myself. At the moment, I have no friends or family here so most of my free time is spent on my own. I've never f elt so isolated in my entire life. I miss everyone back home beyond words and would do anything for an "everything will be ok, love" cuddle. But beginnings are never easy, especially the big ones, and rewards come from hard work and perseverance, so I'll just keep trucking along like I always do until life gets easier/better. On the flipside, there are many positives that have come from jumping the ditch, and I'm very grateful to the family I live with who have given me the opportunity for a new life. I'm living in a beautiful house and hav...