Thursday, 30 June 2011

On Hiatus.

Helloooooo there, it's been so long I've almost forgotten how to post here. I know I said some time last week (*scrolls down anxiously to check on date of last post* - okay, oops, Friday, to be precise) that I'd be back with some more reviews and rants, so I apologise if you were watching this space because, well, Friday backed onto a busy weekend, which rolled into what has been a fairly busy week - and now we're here, Thursday 30th June, at the close of the first half of the year. Though universities are finished, schools are all but closed and even parliament will soon be done, everyone still seems really busy with graduations and catch-ups and job-searches and whatnot. Time is flying on by. Doesn't it honestly feel like just a few weeks ago that we were working out what to do on new years eve?

And so the past week was a whirlwind of work, wet paint and (not a lot of) Wimbledon – probably one set watched (+ Tsonga’s match point yesterday – what is the world coming to?!!) in total. Let's rewind to this time last week. Bridesmaids. BRIDESMAIDS. I hadn't heard of this movie until S suggested watching it; not a super-starry cast neither OTT promotion & publicity, but hell, one hell of a watch. We went to the Odeon in Hatfield (first time in a long time, with candy floss, Mr Ben and Mr Jerry in tow, courtesy of Orange Wednesdays) and it's the funniest we've seen in a long time - we were in stitches from laughter at times. Since then too I've read plenty of sycophantically gushing reviews about it, which, actually, are pretty well deserved. The best bit though, has to be...

Kirsten Wiig; a ridiculously likeable baker, emotionally vacant, psychologically volatile, somewhat lacking in direction and tact - but a woman who can speak her mind. Honestly, this film addresses that age old issue of female competitiveness. Yeah, THAT one. I recall The Mail running an article a while back (ONLY read the mail online for 'research purposes' whilst writing something for YouGov, promise!) about being a competitive dresser - how we women feel forced to up our ante to impress and intimidate other females, our potential competitors. And it's never seemed more relevant than now, when there is a constant stream of skinnier, sexier, prettier, richer, smarter and more successful women at our disposal, with whom we may compare ourselves and belittle ourselves against. So I think we need to take a leaf from Annie the baker's book - watch it and you'll see what I mean.

It's probably going to be a few days before I get back online now - I feel a little lost for words of late if I'm honest so that probably explains the sudden decrease in the frequency of my updates. I've always found that that I write best when in a flurry of emotion, be it anger or sorrow, happiness or excitement, because writing is a form of expression. But I've reached a much coveted stage of contentment at the moment and it's taken a long while to get here - so let's call it a sort of hiatus for now. More soon though, I promise. Have a lovely weekend peoples, whatever it is you're up to.


Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Where's My Pizza?

It's summer solstice today - the longest day of the year and it definitely feels the same; the absence of routine from my life means one day often roles lazily, easily into the next. No morning alarm nor timetabled restrictions that can define one day as separate from another - I need not sleep at night nor wake up in the morning. And it feels good to finally be in a place where I'm free to be my own. In amidst the chaos that is going to work, looking for work, revising, DIYing, sorting, cleaning, and planning and preparing for various parties and holidays, I'm strangely at peace. Today I painted the living room with mum; I'm mucky, hungry and covered in paint now but the living room looks beautiful. I called up my grandma, met some old friends over the weekend, and, in-between all this voluntary busy-ness of mine, found enough time to watch the very many movies that have been on my 'to watch' list for too long. And so I thought, today's post would be a little bit of a run-down on the watch and watch-nots (though please bear in mind it may have taken me eeerm…*ehem*15 years*ehem* to discover some of these?!)

Let's begin though with Photobucket. I think it's safe to say the rom-com bug has really bitten me on the bum. Again. As per. But seriously, this was the last one before I thought, y'know what? S'nuff now! If you're a fan of Julia Roberts, of India, of Italy or of Indonesia, of Javier Bardem, of food or of mindless time-pass, then this is a must watch. But if you're after anything more than a beautiful woman on a journey through some beautiful places…then it's probably a watch-not because it lacks in anything deeper. It fails in providing details which makes the story seem a little clumsy, if not crummy - for example, how can Liz can afford a whole year travelling without seriously jeopardising her plush lifestyle back in the States? Well, the book, on which this film is based, definitely provides a more concrete story - it's more touching, more detailed, more true. Eat Pray Love is the memoir of American author Elizabeth Gilbert, who following a failed marriage embarked upon a journey to find out who she really is and what she wants from life. I'm not going to lie, I was literally all over this simply because it's such a girly-girl, feel-good film. I love Roberts and if you do, I assure you that you won't mind the few occasions where it falters. WATCH (NOT).

Photobucket, recommended by my brother, scared the living daylights out of me (note to self - don't watch horror alone, in pitch darkness, lest the motive is cardiac arrest). Case 39 starts with the simple life of a kind-hearted social worker, Emily, who goes out of her way to ensure safety for abused and neglected children. She's entrusted with Case 39, that of Lilith Sullivan whose parents want to 'send her to hell' and try to be rid of her by locking her in their switched on oven. At first sight it seems the parents are absolutely crazy - but it's not long before more sinister events start to unfold. While it's not all blood and gore, it's creepiness lies in the crossover between nightmare and reality - it's difficult to distinguish where one ends and the other begins. I'm quite a Zellweger fan (who isn't after Bridget Jones?) and it's nice to see her doing something different. I'll warn you now though - if you're faint-hearted like me don't watch this alone. It's chilling, thrilling horror and probably best watched with a big strong boyfriend beside (JUST IN CASE, y'know?!). WATCH.

If you're Indian I probably need say nothing about Photobucket, except that I don't know why it took me so long to watch it. All I can say is THANK God for the mavericks and the non-conformists. Dev D is a flight of fancy from the filmmaker that defies convention and demolishes moulds. Not only does it rewrite the technique of the artistic medium, with its unusual cinematography, dizzy editing, non-linear plot narration, turn-of-the-century dialogues and breathtakingly bizarre audio track, it completely revises the ancient text (on which it's based) which has already made its mark in its various avtars, the latest being the high-pitched rendition of the self-destructive hero by Shah Rukh Khan in Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Devdas (trailer below). Say no more because if you haven't seen that either, then please do. Devdas is to Hindi what Pride and Prejudice is to English. But Dev D, unlike Devdas, isn't a blast from the past. In his rootlessness, his lack of purpose and his complete disconnect with the real (read traditional) world, he reflects the mindset of the archetypal new millennium 20-something who doesn't know how to blend tradition with modernity, permissiveness with orthodoxy, Oxford with Chandigarh. And so, he asks his childhood sweetheart, Paro to send him her nude photographs through e-mail, yet can't handle the quandary about her virginity and pronounced sexuality. In a fit of aggrieved machismo, he spurns her wild sexual adventurism which sees her cycling to the neighbouring fields at the break of dawn with a mattress meticulously rolled up on the carrier for a clandestine tryst with him. (Ever seen the bharatiya naari do this in Indian cinema? Bravo, brave new Bollywood!). WATCH.

...and finally onto Photobucket .Cris recommended this one and while it's old enough for Natalie Portman to have been just 12 odd years old when it was made, it's still every bit as good. The film follows the story of Léon, played by Jean Reno, a professional hit man for an Italian Mob crew. He lives next door to a ferociously independent 12-year-old girl named Mathilda whose father is involved in drugs and crooked cops. One day, a crew of the cops kills her entire family while Mathilda is out buying groceries. Taking pity on her, Léon hides her in his apartment when she returns to save her life. Mathilda learns of Léon's hit man profession and decides to follow in his footsteps as a 'cleaner.' I was surprised to realise I'd watched a hindi film with (almost) exactly the same plot, so unfortunately I already knew how it would end. PLEASE WATCH!

You've probably sussed how much I'm enjoying the company of my new mac - I think I'm at risk of sounding like one of those 24hr computer geeks though (I'm actually just waiting for my pizza) but in truth,it's just nice to be working my way back up. In between too many transitions and moves in the past year I lost a lot of possessions and a lot of myself. I'm not particularly materialistic (I hope) but I can definitely be possessive, especially as I come from somewhere where happiness comes at the price of a lot of hard work. So I'd say being protective about your home, your dreams is no bad thing. It feels good to be fighting to get my life back on track, even if it's about the small joys like getting new furniture (including an ultra-slimming mirror - mine broke when I was moving back home) to replace what I was forced to leave behind last time. I'm finally comfortable in my own space, my own skin - I don't feel like a stranger in my own home. I'm currently awaiting (more like clicking the refresh button at the top of the page every 5 seconds, like some hunger-crazed maniac), a piping hot, cheesy delicious Domino's, which is probably why I have the time for such a long rant today (sorry). And I'm also looking forward to a long overdue catch up with my best girly S. I have lots of lovely belated birthday presents for her and I'm hoping to overturn her previous inclination towards Athens as our chosen holiday destination in favour of Milano. I mean Italian food is reason enough for starters. Then there's all the fashion and shopping, Lake Como just 20 miles off…*eyes haze over*. Wish me luck :D


Sunday, 19 June 2011

'Eine Wurst Bitte?'

Another weekend's come and gone and it really feels like time is rushing by from under the nose. They say time flies when you're having fun - but it seems to fly even when you're not! Fact: time flies, regardless. It's been another long haul at the hotel and though it hasn't been as busy as it can be, after three hours sleep in two days, I'm dead out. Still enjoying the hustle bustle of ins and outs though, what with the church groups, training groups, conference groups and tour groups, it almost feels like a mini global-village and it can be rather entertaining to watch foreigners fall so neatly into the silly stereotypes we Brits have accorded them. Inevitably people from different parts of the world have different, distinguished habits and traditions - Schmidts and Schröders always ask for sausage, Dubois and Durants enquire for hot chocolate ('euuugh, sho-co-laa?'), and of course Patels and Pathans search for doodh (hot milk), without fail. The accents can get pretty difficult to decipher too but it's always nice to be learned in the art of multi-lingual blasphemy (you do get a mouthful of swearing, sighing and ranting if it gets to the 5th time a guest is trying to tell you something and you STILL don't get it), and it's all good really because 6 months later I still feel like I'm learning - and until I'm learning, I'm here. I've become so used to running around while on the job that I do sort of wonder what will become of me when required to sit still, in a chair, to work. I've always told anyone who's asked me that a 9 to 5 job's definitely not for me. I like a little spontaneity in terms of day to day life, so I suppose an endeavour for that constitutes part of the attraction in becoming a journalist or freelance writer. For now though, I guess this job addresses my issues.

Besides, I reckon I've got it nailed if I'm honest 'cause apparently my accent varies according to audience. I speak like a Brit to the Brits, like a freshie to the fre…..….Indians, and seem to entertain my co-workers along the way. I didn't realise I was doing it until my colleague started laughing at me yesterday - but I guess it's a good thing if it means people understand me better… right?! Who needs to learn French anyway when speaking English in French accent does the trick just as well :p ? And so it's here I conclude, because my eyes are stinging from lack of sleep and I can almost hear a jar of Nutella calling out to me, luring me, from somewhere in the kitchen. I'm all set for what looks to be a week of positivity and progress - and I hope you are too. For now, that's all.




Friday, 17 June 2011

Swing of Nostalgia

Have you ever sat on a swing, kicking higher and higher, as high and as fast as you can go before tipping your head back to watch the world sway in an upside down semicircle as the wind rushes through your hair? Totally forgetting where you are, who you are, and what you're doing… just enjoying that flying feeling of being free? Of course you have. Somehow I woke up this morning to that exact sensation, transported back in time to an afternoon I spent with the first boy who ever asked me out, T, and the first boy I ever asked out, J (although he said no to me, and I said no to him so we all just ended up just being friends really), when we cycled out to a spot in the woods where the guys'd regularly do their guy-scouty type things, like building campfires and toasting marshmallows, and well, putting up rope swings I s'pose - in the eyes of a 13 year old me, the coolest things ever. So there I was, having convinced them to take me with, albeit reluctantly. And I leapt onto the rope swing, suspended from a tree at a 60 degree angle to what should been level ground, but was instead a deepish-ravine like the picture below - I was absolutely terrified at first of how I'd get back down, but not prepared to admit so in the face of their crying, "haha, didn't think a girl could do it!" (I wasn't exactly going to humiliate entire girl kind now was I?!) And burying my fear, then, was the best decision of my life - what a sight it was as the air gushed past my ears and I swung out beyond the foliage of surrounding trees, and over an open field of flowering rapeseed.

Photobucket Photobucket

I've had a fascination for swings since I was the tiniest baby - others had to be prised away from slides, peeled off the mini-roundabouts, but I'd happily sit swinging, probably because it was a safe seat to sit back and people watch (another love I haven't left) Even today, when out for a walk or a picnic, I beeline for the swings and it's my dream,

to one day have one of these ---------------->

when I finally get a place of my own. I'm not sure what it is about swings, but that one afternoon on the rope swing is seared into memory - it's one of those 'happy places' in time which I know will bring a smile when I feel trapped in an endless tunnel of darkness. It feels like childhood came and went too fast, those carefree days when my only concern was if I was in the same P.E group as my friends or how much homework I had for that evening. But life's changed somewhere along the way and I've moved on, so too have my friends. Most of them graduate this year and while I'm awfully proud of them, it's also difficult to understand how we got from there to here - in between those summer afternoons of fun and evenings of house parties, lunchtimes on the school field and throwing notes to each other in class - when did we find the time to grow up?


Thursday, 16 June 2011

A Quick Catch Up Then...

Hellooo hellooo hellooo... sorry it’s been a few days - I didn’t even realise how the past few days flew by in a flash; a sweet slur of shopping dates, dinner dates, coffee dates, lazy mornings in bed and balmy (albeit slightly wet) summer evenings cooking and unwinding. I’ve finally got back some semblance of a social life and started spending quality time with people I love. I really enjoy my days off because watching my parents slogging it life-long, I often remind myself that we work to live, we don’t live to work. Of course enjoying work is good because it makes the grind that little bit easier but off-days are definitely the best kind of day :D Amongst other things I...

...discovered the most lusciously luxurious £10 Thornton’s Viennese Truffle Easter eggs on sale for £2. Spent a whole evening admiring the pretty packaging (look at it! it looks almost too pretty to disturb) but finally succumbed to the rich, delicious chocolate beyond...

…baked a cheesecake and trekked off to Edgware to see my adopted family (actually, they’ve adopted me) where it’s no doubt always met with delight (and devoured within errr, 30 seconds at most?)

…and rattled randomly around the London Underground from place to place. (Spent a lovely evening in the company of my best friend, consuming copious quantities of calories in the form of cheesy, oozy macaroni cheese and chocolate dessert pot, before watching Aladdin - though I think it’s safe to say we all fell asleep around half way through from having eaten too much.) I’m slightly ashamed of my slovenly ways at times, but honestly, chocolate really does taste as good as skinny feels KATE MOSS. Besides, you can always make up for the days of totally unabashed, abundant indulgence by being vaguely disciplined the other days.... right? Guess I got to count my blessings that I don’t gain weight (YET, my mum adds, hastily).

In all, a wonderful few days off. I’ve finally started embracing my freedom instead of resenting it - hell, I’ve been motivated enough to start studying for my September batch of exams now (I can see your eyes popping out, plug them back in now will you?!), start running again (though arguably I’m more Pheobe from Friends than Paula Radcliffe, but that’s not the point is it...) and search for a full-time job in the meanwhile. I’ve realised, finally, that living life isn’t something one should postpone until they have that little bit more money, or a little bit more time, or when they feel a little bit better. It’s about going out there and doing what you can with what you have, now. And I’m lucky, because I have the world’s greatest family, the planet’s warmest friends behind me. It’s been a long while that I’ve hidden behind excuses to avoid seeing people and breaking out of my little world - but not any more. I’m off for now, but more tomorrow. Have a great evening.


Monday, 13 June 2011

Mums, Mangoes and Memories...

For as long as I can remember the arrival of mangoes marks the start of summer in our house - the imminent onset of long lazy evenings spent with the balcony thrown open, mum and I gorging on the sweet honey orange colour treasures with exuberant delight. Not any old mangoes I’ll have you know. Not those hard green skinned, rubber tasting variety. Oooh no, we're talking king of mangoes here, the Alphonso which comes primarily from Western India and Pakistan. It's almost sickly sweet, sweeter than sweet (I have been known to eat sugar cubes) and we sit feasting on them straight off their centre stone with the resplendent juice running down our fingers - arguably one of the deepest pleasures known to mankind. Trust me. And so the first box of mangoes has finally arrived (albeit at an extortionate £7 per box of 6, but a joy worth every penny), and it looks, literally, like a box full of sunshine. I watch mum glow with nostalgia as she recounts summers in India spent secretly gorging on 'ras keri' with her siblings whilst adults siesta-ed away oblivious - stolen moments that have the power to bring a smile to her face even today. It’s almost like a movie flashback...magical to share moments of mum's childhood. And what more are we than diverse, walking & talking histories? Our memories are as important to our existence as is our DNA. And so summer looks set to be sensational and I'm hoping to get to India some time soon, hopefully before the mango season is out ;)


Sunday, 12 June 2011

I'm a Wibbly-Wobbly Jelly

I know I say this eeeeevery single week, but like, I swear this weekend HAS to have been the busiest EVER? I kid you not, it was more manic than manic has ever been! I feel like I’ve come home from a 9 hour aerobic work-out that I was paid for, rather than paying for. The all-over work-out, what with the running and filling and moving and cleaning and whatnot, has pretty much reduced me to feeling like a wibbly-wobbly jelly now. I'm aching! I can’t remember retail ever being THIS non-stoppish even though there were some busy bursts. It just seems to be getting fuller and fuller at the hotel with tour groups and party groups almost every weekend. A bar akin to a bomb site is more usual than unusual these days and it can be difficult to keep up the energy all the time - but then I guess hoteling is a 24/7 business. Plus I do like being SO busy that I can't even think. I'm developing a strange love for my work and it does help along a bit when your colleagues are fun and customers leave you good feedback (and neat tips :p) This kind of leads me onto my point for pondering today - our restaurant was packed at breakfast today. Literally heaving with 120+ people. So there I was, all stressed out and running about like a blue-arsed fly and probably looking a mess too - stained apron, wonky name badge and jam in my hair; not a pretty sight I can imagine! And this random guy (one of the 60th birthday party-ers from last night, though he was only around 25 maybe?) stopped me on his way out.

Random Asian Man: Thank you for looking after us.

Me: No problem, I hope you had a lovely stay.

Random Asian Man: You're absolutely beautiful, just so you know.

Me: Oh. Really?! Erm. Oh. Thanks. Bye-bye then..

(Definitely played it cool there, hope my bright red ears didn’t give me away?) Hmmmm, honestly though, I always get a bit tongue tied when complimented, especially for something I’m not expecting (I was working my a** off, not trying to look nice so I was okay up 'til the thank you for looking after us bit...) At what point exactly does appreciating your waitress become hitting on her? It's terrible because girls ALWAYS get left better tips (and more phone numbers) than guys - which doesn't seem really fair seeing as my early morning colleague works super-uber hard too.

I'm feeling a teeny tiny bit low, probably due to a lack of sleep (doesn't pay to try and cram a 'life' in between endless shifts at work. Late nights + 5am starts = 1.5 hour sleeps. Nicht gut.) so I shall be on my way now; I believe a cup of masala chai has my name on it downstairs. I'm looking forward to a cracking week ahead and I wish you all the same. I'm going to leave you with a song I love. Happy Sunday peoples.


Wednesday, 8 June 2011

*Will You Shut Up About the Mac Already..*


First things first, I apologise for the posery above - I discovered this gadget called ‘Photo Booth’ on the mac yesterday evening and clearly got just a little bit carried away (I wasn’t grinning that widely at myself though, don’t worry, I was actually chatting to somebody online). In short I’m absolutely enamoured, so I think I’m going to cut short iMac talk right here... else you’ll be laden with another post of me singing its praises and not an awful lot more.

I’m a bit ennuyé at the moment because the sun was beaming when I was stuck indoors at work but obviously now Mother Nature decides is a great time to bucket it down. Typical ey? I’m debating whether or not to still go ahead with a planned bike ride or instead snuggle into bed and watch a movie (compensate for tearing myself out at a cruel 5.30am this morning) Yerrr, tough choice there, think I've already decided. Work was rather quick today - when you get used to 10 hour shifts, 5 hours seems measly; I got to the end of my shift and thought to myself “What… but I only just got here!?!” My supervisor told me that his wife’s expecting - did cause a little twang of something in my heart as he talked excitedly about looking after her morning sicknesses and cooking for her because she can’t smell food without feeling seriously nauseous. Exciting news indeedy, babies are a bundle of joy. I took a quick detour into town upon finishing and dropped by my beloved ex-place of work, Clas Ohlson. Always a trip down memory lane, and many smiley faces to be seen. I’ll tell you the highlight of my day though. It’s been a long while that I’ve spent hiding myself in oversized hoodies and baggy tracks. No make-up, no jewellery and thats not reeeeally me. I love getting out the dressing up box, my usually very oversized earrings and some eye-liner. And so now that I have finally started making the effort, girls back me up on this, it kicks a** when you turn a few heads. Cheap thrill? Yes. But necessary sometimes? Absolutely.

So now onto my much awaited reviews (I hope you've been waiting with bated breath?!) I just finished reading this book called 'To My Best Friends'. On first glance it appears to be another of those no-brainer make-up, break-up, chicky-flicky novels (which for the record I LOVE, for the precise reason that I have no brain left by about 11 o'clock at night when I'm most likely to reach for a book), but it is in fact a bit of a gem. Dear readers, avert your eyes from the misleading pink cover, because inside is a cracking tale with a complex plot that had me up until I had finished it (4.33am, eyes sore from tiredness). It tells the story of a woman who, prior to a tragically early death from cancer, seals the fate of the life and people she will leave behind with 4 letters (1 for her husband, 1 each for her 3 best friends). And so we watch as these very real people struggle in the battle between their own desires and their sense of duty to their deceased friend. If you can get your hands on it, go for it… if you can't you're welcome to pinch mine next time I see you. I would definitely recommend a read.

A movie I am still revelling in the delights of is this surprise little success. It's called 'Band Baaja Baaraat' - which literally translates as 'band (duh), instrument/music and wedding procession'. More usually though, when you talk of the festivities and partying surrounding an Indian wedding, you refer to it as Band Baaja Baraat. And this film is one I avoided for some time because it stars a newcomer with a girl who's just a few films old - and I made the classic mistake of judging a book by its cover. I'm not sure I've ever been more wrong because it's a beauty. Set in the buzzing Delhi ("Dil-li"), it charts the story of a middle class girl with dreams to start up as a wedding planner (very novel concept in India - the trailer will explain) - she meets the boy by chance and he convinces her that the business will need two people, not one, to stay afloat. And so the story goes, two young individuals filled with energy, enthusiasm and passion which takes their business from height to height. It's fresh and the pace of the story is somewhat electrifying. It is garish definitely, but if you're looking to jump into the deep end of Bollywood then this is the place to start. Indian weddings are all about colour and noise, family, love, tradition and music - and I think the song pretty much sums that up. When was the last time you danced, danced of sheer joy?


Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Christmas Come Early

Eeeeeek, I literally feel like a child on Christmas day - I’ve waited a really long time for this, and now, FINALLY, I have an iMac. OMG, it’s siiiik, swell, sweet... whatever them young ones call it these days. Okaaaaay I hear you, maybe those words don’t suit my otherwise posh tongue - so let’s say it's wonderful, sophisticated and...oh hell who am I even kidding, it’s every good and nice adjective in the English dictionary. :D And so here I am, sipping my tea and blogging away for the very first time from my very own iMac (I have Cris to thank for the fact that I even knew how to switch it on - he bought one before Christmas last year and I messed around on it a fair bit). After scouring shops and the net for some time I decided that if I was going to spend so much money I may as well get exactly what I want. iMacs as they go are a pricey piece of equipment but I didn’t really want to settle for something that would get outdated really quickly - plus I had my heart set on the 27’’ rather than it’s smaller 21’’ sibling. So eventually I decided on getting a refurbished model from the online Apple store - in general they’re units that have been returned to the manufacturer within 30 days of purchase (sometimes it’s as simple as a business that has just ordered too many so had to return a few). Consequently they cannot be sold as new. However before being resold, they’re tested and certified anyway, guaranteed with a one year warranty incase of any trouble and boast a significantly reduced price tag (in my case a whopping £350...kerrrrCHING). And I am really over the moon with my purchase, because it’s the latest model with a FaceTime HD camera, bolt-lightning speed and wireless keyboard/mouse.

Lol I truly hope you’re not sitting there thinking “God she’s materialistic” - I’m honestly not... as much as I have wanted a Mac for a while, in truth I’m more proud of what buying it represents. We all have dreams, however many or few, big or small. And for the past year I honestly feel I’d forgotten to do anything for me. Everything was on the back burner because another person's happiness came first - and that’s not a complaint because I did it with pleasure. But despite it all, I find myself walking alone once more and in a sense I’ve realised my naivety. You shouldn’t make another person your whole world, because when they’re gone you feel you've nothing left (thank you Wynny for the words of wisdom). So I’m lucky really that it happened to me after just one year - imagine the people who put 20 or 30 years into a relationship or marriage, all for it to come to nothing? Learning point my friends, chase a dream, a feeling, not a person. I’m chasing mine, this little baby being the first on a very long list. Next is my driving test...more about dreams another day.

I know this post was supposed to be a bit of a review/run-down on some good movies/books/hotspots to check out... but I guess you’re going to have to wait until next time. Sowie :p It’s been a wonderful day today - a balmy 24 degrees, chillin’ with my mum, getting the mac up and running and lots of delicious cooking (google gulab jamun; made those today). In truth, it’s been such a bumpy ride that I'm trying to relish even the small joys. It’s still bittersweet, tinged with a vague ache for everything I’ve had to lose to find myself...but it’s not like we have a choice, ey? More tomorrow :D



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