After a week in Perth - which will henceforth be referred to as the Lost Years - I fled the country entirely and am now in Indonesia. Judging by the tone of the last few days I'm inclined to predict that this will eventually earn a similar classification, but yesterday we spent quite a wholesome day wandering around some markets and had a necessary quiet night in watching E! with some cake and goldfish crackaz so I'm feeling spritely today and I thought this would be quite an opportune time to check in.

Unexpected developments that have occurred since I got here include the revelation that I apparently very much enjoy motorcycles. To my mother, I am sorry, and to everyone else I am probably even more surprised than you are given that I don't even like bicycles because I don't trust things that fall over when you leave them on their own. Whole new level of eat pray love self discovery over here. Also I have managed to not get burnt yet so A+ for that, though my hair and general lyf are not super fond of the 500% humidity levels. You can literally see the water in the air. What kind of trickery is this.

In news that will entertain anyone who knows me (again, other than my mother), I managed to get Family Easter-level drunk* with the royal family the other night and woke up the next day feeling extremely unwell with several gashes and bruises, an interesting text history and the following note in my phone:

"OMFGP ay info service sterile mordtubm than my entire lift whatis happenibf"

Who am I.

What does that mean.

Why is Ryan Lochte's reality show the best and worst thing ever.

I shall leave you to ponder these things while I go and drink five litres of water because even thinking about that night has just made me feel very, very sorry for my liver.

Adieu.