My mom wasn’t the most open about many a things when I was growing up. Most things were learnt from friends and my grandma (maternal side who I called Baba). Baba would teach me invaluable things like ‘Washing dishes makes your hands and nails beautiful’ and ‘Don’t sit with your legs up and spread apart while wearing a skirt so everyone can see your underwear’. Of course I can’t forget the one about ‘I must learn to cook because how else will I become a good housewife’. Afterall the key to a man’s heart is through his stomach right? Well, I later found out that washing dishes by hand ruins your nails, and if I wore shorts under my skirt I avoided people seeing my underwear, and I learnt to cook for myself and not because I was going to get married. Anyway, besides all that, being an only child didn’t help my situation either. So growing up wasn’t an easy task to conquer. With my mom’s limited hands-on, in depth talks and my friends telling me wrong things I was a hopeless case. However with that being said my momma did instill one tidbit of information that has stuck with me throughout my life…And that is to never write anything down that you don’t want others to see. Because if it happened to fall into the wrong hands, it would ruin you.
My thoughts of the day…
- People should really listen to classical music more. (I get more writing done and my anxiety is kept at bay)
- They should bring back I Love Lucy
- There should be classes on dating
- Isn’t it about time that we revamped speed-dating?
- Will we learn to stop hate?
- Painting nails is therapeutic
- Love needs to be cherished more
- Pasta should be revered
- We should do more analog photography
- Men and women need to sit down and write a collective book on how to work together better, along with sharing all the secrets of the opposite sex.
❤ ❤ ❤
Does anyone else feel like things are moving too fast nowadays when it comes to dating, love and relationships in general? Or am I the only one woman island in the middle of nowhere? As I look at my parents and grandparents’ relationships I have come to the conclusion that things have become a little warped. It definitely doesn’t seem so rosy anymore and somewhere along the way there seems to have been more rules put in place to make things even more difficult.
‘Food glorious foooooood!’…. is what I want to sing from the top of my lungs whenever I discuss such a scrumptious topic. I’m not going to lie, I love food. It brings you together with friends, you feel the love that was made with it while sitting around the dinner table with family, and let’s not forget the feelings of euphoria that run wild after you’ve finally satiated your haaanger. I mean, what’s not to love about food! Well, after so many years of having the best love affair of my life, it would seem it has come to an end. At least for the time being. My lover, has betrayed me, and my stomach and gut are now paying the price.
What’s being ‘too much’ of something and why is it a hindrance to most people? Is caring too much a problem? To some, yes. Is laughing too much an annoyance? Again to some, yes. And why do people cut you down with the phrase ‘You’re just too much’?
Happy Hump Day my little fluffy pandas! I mean big up to at least getting this far without collapsing in tears as the last drop of wine leaves the bottle. Well done you! I of course can’t say the same thing, but I keep on plodding along the best way I know how… like an alcoholic that’s dead to the world. Okay, okay! In all seriousness I decided to pass along some Wednesday wisdom to help me and you get through life’s awefulness. And what better way to do it than to throw some sparkly, funny gifs at you! So here we go!
One evening as I was preparing to board a bus back home I did some mental exercises and a few ‘woooosaahhh’s’ to help me deal with the city. And by city I mean the unemotional assholes of this world. The ones where the city has hardened them to an unmalleable substance. Where the soot, grease and oil intertwine throughout their DNA making them the terminator from the first of the franchise. The one who did not befriend you through cheesy one-line zingers such as ‘Hasta la vista baby’ and ‘I’ll be back’. Either way, one has to be mentally prepared for these kill-joys.
That title is all about me… Me, myself and I. It popped into my head one day after a psychological warfare was underway in the deepest recesses of my cranial cavity. What was the internal conflict? Me panicking about going out. Yup… as simple as that. And because of all the different synapses firing off inside my skull, I worked myself up so much that I started shitting every hour. Sadly, I’m dead serious. That’s how messed up my tummy was! Thus my whole ordeal started from 9am that Saturday morning and ended when the first sip of gin & tonic hit my lips. Well actually if I’m being completely honest, it started when the event was booked. But all the shitting, fortunately for me, was the day of. How thoughtful of my stomach and brain. With that being said, I have no idea how my brain has turned into such a mess. It has somehow suffered a short circuit (possibly several) where once the internal workings were such a smooth process, but now, convulsions take place internally instead. Isn’t that nice…
Recently I was thinking about relationships, dating and love in general. I suppose I’ve been pondering about it more because illogical things keep happening to me when it comes to men. That’s the nicest way I can put it. I also get super emotional when I see old people holding hands. Which I’m witnessing less and less by the way. However, I’m totally comfortable enough to admit it. I love seeing old people together. THERE! Anyway, in the midst of my contemplation I started to actually wonder if love would be possible 100 years from now.
It’s a silly old thing, time. Isn’t it? There’s this power that it possesses for some reason. If you spend it poorly, it runs like water through a drain. If you spend it wisely, it might run like the summer months close to the north pole. Where the sunlight laces the days together and time seems to have created a wormhole of infinite length. But those scenarios can be reversed as well. Where it can speed up while having a wondrous time and then slow to a halt while you’re doing a task that you aren’t fond of. Time can be bent, skewed, thrown, stopped, pushed, delayed; manipulating it until you’ve achieved your goals. But what about the unfortunate few who have not had luck with time? Who have parted ways with missed chances or unseized opportunities because Lady Luck chose for them another fate; to not be in the ‘Right Place, Right Time’ section of life. As if you were in a constant state of ‘almosts’, but never getting any farther than that. And it’s not like you can force it. That’s the elusiveness of it. I have felt like that about relationships. Where the circumstances have not been spot on. Or the feelings, affections, have not been right. They have been an almost, but not quite. There hasn’t been that meshing of souls. The clicking of thoughts. There seems to have always been a catch. A bent cog in an antiquated time piece. A hiccup of everlasting sharpness. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have not been given the opportunity to relish in that happy moment of everything clicking all at once. The merging of synchronicity. So perfect in timing that we hear the atom pop.
Happy Friday Pandas!
Can you believe it’s only two more weeks to Christmas?! I mean where has this year gone? Mentally I have started shutting down knowing that I have exactly 13 days until I go back home to see my parents in Cyprus. Whoop whoop! Anyways, enough with the pleasantries. This post is not about me going back home, but about bad decisions.
I wrote this title about
92 96 days ago, so please forgive me, I have no clue where I first read it. However, I’ve put quotes, which indicates I did not say it. You know, just in case some Joe Shmo penalises me for plagiarism of a sentence. I did not write the title. Okay? Okay!
Pandas, since today’s Thanksgiving I figured it would only be fitting to say what I’m thankful for instead of just eating all day long. So here it goes…
Hi my fluffy pandas. Today I’m going to yap on about why our brains have concocted this “start the new you” on Mondays thing. In fact, why do we always start new projects on a Monday? It’s really a lie we’ve forced upon ourselves. You know, so as you can make excuses for how crap you’ve been doing lately. Because then you can simply say “oh, I’ll put my best foot forward on Monday.”
In May I bought some pots and seeds in the hopes that my balcony would turn out like this…