I love Perth. Because of glorious sunrises and how the skyscrapers glow in that morning sun. Because the air is crisp and slightly chilly when I step out onto the balcony, making me beat a hasty retreat. Because soft daylight and sharp sunlight make colours all so much more vivid and alive. Because of the bustle and tang of coffee that hangs in the air when I walk along the pavement at 8 in the morning. Because of relaxed laughter of men in suits who ride Harley Davidsons - they meet up at the same cafe every morning for breakfast. Because it's such a wonderful, laid-back city. Where a cup of coffee takes precedence to being on time. Where priorities are right.

Well. Anyway.

I'm nineteen now, how weird is that? I'm going to be twenty in a year. This is my last year as a teenage dirtbag! Tragedy.

Thanks to you all for making me what I am, for letting me be eighteen. For enduring my flights of fancy. For always having an answer for "what are you wearing tonight? What should I wear?". For the laughs and the nights out. For the support that's been given no matter what. For hugs and tears. For beautiful words and beautiful moments. For the moments of extreme panic and bitching about Romberg's test (damn that man). For letting me grow up but act like I'm still twelve inside. For all the late-night phone calls till three in the morning. For all the times we've pranked on Kim. For EyeToy and SingStar. For comfort. For a place to come back to at night. For all the lame jokes. For the never-ending arguments involving the difference between "cynic" and "realist". For making many tiny boxes and obscure clues somehow ending in the toilet (and filming it all).

Thanks for all the memories.

Thanks for everything.

:)