07. Glass

I grew up with a mom and a grandma who placed a lot of weight on certain things. One of those was having pretty flowers in the house almost always and displaying the said pretty flowers in appropriately pretty containers. Cue vases! The two on the left you can see on the picture below were gifted to me - the tall one by my grandma, and the round one by my mom. The one on the right was also a present from mom - real Murano glass, from Venice. The tall one I grew up around, it was a stalwart on my grandma's coffee table and as kids, my brother and me were strictly forbidden from touching it lest it should topple and/or fall. The yellow one was the one my mom reached for most often whenever there were flowers to display. I love the colours on all three of them, being particularly fond of the blue/mustard combination.

The Long and the Short Of It

Actually, I'll aim for as short as possible this time.

The hairy situation:  Slowly, over the past few years, I've slipped into the 'I have to die my hair every six weeks' situation. Putting not to fine a point on it - I'm hopelessly grey! Underneath the layers of L'Oreal die, I'm all silvery white, and while I will for sure at some point in the future give up and go au naturel, we are not there yet folks. Hence, the trip to the hairdresser's every six weeks. It is a nuisance in a way that I do not like when my grey roots show up - which usually happens around week four - but then I stick with them for a little while longer before hitting the salon. However, once in there, it's pure joy. And for the following reasons:

1. The staff are super nice and, as I have been a regular for the past eight years, they know me well and know what I like, what kind of hairstyles work for me and when is the time to try a new shade of die or a new hair cut. I never protest, I just let them work their magic and I've never regretted it.

2. There is always a copy of the newest Vogue UK laying around which promptly ends up in my lap, I'm served a cup of the finest filter coffee to be had around here and after initial inquires as to the current situation in the household, I'm left on my own, quietly sipping coffee and reading while the die is being applied and then sitting on my head for whatever amount of time necessary.

3. The restorative and transforming power of hair color and haircut/blow dry is never lost upon me. I look and feel 100% better after every visit, my head feels so much lighter, both physically and metaphorically speaking, after I'm given a special massage while my hair is being washed and it never fails to give me a special bounce in my step.

The sales situation: Yes, I've managed to fit in a few visits to the shops, and the latest two purchases made me happy!

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The white and silver cap toe flats from Clarks, in wide fit - apart from a very good sales price, it is the wide fit that won me over. These really fit like a glove and have the softest sole padding, as is the case with all other Clarks I own and am very happy with. These come in lieu of the LILU white and silver pointy toed ones - much as I loved the pink detail on the rubber sole, these are a much better fit and the price difference is considerable.

This came home with me as well as it was heavily discounted. It was worth a wait as it will combine brilliantly with other stuff in my wardrobe to take me through to fall.

And to finish this off with some breaking news - the tightest of my pre-pregnancy jeans fit! It was scientifically established this morning, after a quarter of an hour of careful observation in front of the full-length mirror in my hallway. No unsightly bulge anywhere around the midsection, hence no muffin top, showing off the bootay, what more could a girl ask for? Same favorable impressions were gained from trying out a part of my back-to-work wardrobe - some dresses, skirts and pants. I felt like popping something open and celebrating, however, being home alone with two underage children in my care, I settled for a lemonade ;)

Why Getting All Dressed Up Matters

It seems so frivolous at times to be thinking/writing/reading about style when you consider all the horrible things going on in the world today - the refugees in the Calais, the war in Syria, the economic crisis, the renewed polarization of the world's politics (West vs. Big Bad East all over again), not to mention the environmental issues - or should these be the primary concern? Violence, corruption, poverty are rampant in my own country as in many other corners of the world. I read the papers, I watch the news, I know about these things - I'm not living under a rock. However, as desperate as these make me, I have no solution, no concrete action to take. Focusing on my family, my little universe, a few friends and the everyday is what I can manage and where I'm needed the most, so that is what I do.

An important part of staying on top of the everyday is organization and routine. I can manage chaos in small doses and at times, but constantly - it drives me crazy. That is why a streamlined repository for clothes, shoes and accessories, aka The Closet, is a must. Wardrobe space is precious in our apartment which means I have to be on top of things regarding the number of items I own. The situation is still a far cry from a carefully curated collection of items I love and enjoy, but I'm getting there slowly. Yet, this post is not about wardrobe organization. It's about why these things matter to me. Or, in other words, why personal style helps save my life in the madness of daily living.

Structure: getting dressed for the life I live first thing in the morning gives structure to my day. If I'm staying at home with the kiddos, it's the track suit bottoms and a t-shirt or an oversize men's shirt (my dad's), mundane, plane, but if it's clean and it fits, is made of cotton or other natural fabric - it's all that I need. Staying in my pj's past the breakfast time and I already feel anxious. If I'm dressed for the daily activities, then I can get on with them and that helps me stay focused and not just waste away the hours watching crappy TV all morning (although we've established that I do that sometimes as well;) Also, doing my face and hair is a part of this routine and even if I don't leave the house all day, I want to feel pulled together. I know this stems from the need to control the often uncontrollable in life, but it helps me.

Presentation: I work in an office environment where casual dressing is considered a no-no - no jeans, no casual Fridays, none of that. I have to look pulled together and exude a sense of authority as I often participate in meetings with officials where the corporate dress code is to be observed. As I spend most of my time at my job, that means that most of my closet is work clothes. I am, however, not the pant suit lady. My aesthetic is just different, more bohemian, less strict. So I find middle ground in order to comply. My blazers are soft, less structured and certainly not boxy (although I've recently found what represented a holy grail of unattainable clothing chimeras for me - the perfect black blazer), but in block colors. My trousers are of a classic cut but with interesting prints. I do wear pencil skirts as these hug my curves in all the right ways, but they are of interesting, textured fabrics. And I accessorize big time - scarves, jewelry, shoes, bags - you name it. This helps me stay true to myself while at the same time presenting the best version of me to my professional environment. I have ascertained in numerous occasions that the way you look may make or break a meeting, a presentation. Done properly, it projects the right image to your coworkers, partners and lets you achieve what you set out to do more easily. Which leads us to ....

Communication: Getting the right formula with the outfits also lets me show loud and clear to the world who I am without having to explain a lot. If you want to read the messages I give out through my clothes (and people do so, even if subconsciously), you may gather that I'm an open and forthcoming personality with a positive outlook, yet serious and determined when required. You may also understand that I'm a bit quirky with a flare for the unexpected. Or, at least, that is what I would want you to understand about me. That is what I get dressed up for and what I want to project with my overall look. This is an important part of non-verbal communication and I believe a vital one.

Appropriateness: Showing up so that your outfit matches the situation - the ultimate mastery of social context. It means to not show up over or underdressed, to not show disrespect, but primarily to feel good in what you're wearing and look comfortable. It is only when you're bien dans sa peau that you can really be appropriate and presentable. It's when you are wearing the clothes and your look, not the other way around. And that is the trickiest bit, the one that requires soul searching, understanding of the self and translating that knowledge in your wardrobe. I believe that is a life-long process, wisdom that is not attained lightly. But it is also the process I enjoy and the trial and error part is what makes it fun.

All this maybe reading a bit too much into what you put on yourself primarily not to walk around naked and protect your body from the elements. You can look at it that way. I prefer to look at it as an essential part of who I am, an opportunity for learning and growth and a process that makes me more considerate, less wasteful and more temperate as well.

As of mid September, when the real life strikes again, I will have to have this process down pat however. My outfits will have to be planned a week in advance (same goes for my elder daughter), laid out complete with all the trimmings the night before and put on in the morning with a very small margin for error - there will just be no time to change my mind. That means the next few weeks will be spent culling my wardrobe, distilling only the most essential items for the coming season, and loads of washing and ironing. Wish me luck!

Monday

This God awful heat is doing nothing for me, I tell you, nothing! It was ok for a day or two, but after four days of temperatures not going down below 30 degrees Celsius even during the night, I've had enough. The scorching atmosphere is conducive to nothing - sleeping, getting dressed up, making an effort, styling your hair, just nothing. The only advantage is that it is not conducive to eating either - small blessings ;)

My brain is working though, even if in a heat-induced stupor. There are issues to ponder, important stuff you know, like - after having decided on the bottoms (trousers and skirts), as well as dresses, for my back-to-school wardrobe, I realized that the one category of clothing sourly missing from my closet is tops! Yes people, tops! And I think I know why: after spending a few years buying any t-shirt, shirt, blouse that I stumbled upon at the sales, and after these have all pilled, sagged or just become ill-fitting (if they ever fitted me properly in the first place), I decided I didn't have the skills requisite for purchasing proper tops and I gave up. 

What that left me with are a few mariniere style shirts with both 3/4 and short sleeves, a bunch of tatty t-shirts and several cotton Zara tops, in navy, peach and dusty pink. Another thing - my body changed a lot after my first pregnancy, going from 'I can't fit any of my clothes', to 'this is soooo big I can hide a horse and a cart underneath' and all the stages in between. That meant that I stuck stubbornly to some of the pre-pregnancy pieces that I liked but that never really worked after the baby, especially in the boobs department.

Tops are almost like an accessory part of the outfit to me. I like simple bottoms. Whether it's a skirt or a pant, simple cuts, basic colors and no frills materials appeal to me. With the tops, however, I like to see them pack a punch, either with color or an intricate pattern. The real problem is - I don't like tops to cost much! I feel like good trousers or an elegant jacket are a much better investment since they pull an outfit together and make you look more polished. Tops - they are there for the fun of it, they usually don't last more than a couple of seasons, thus - I cannot justify an exorbitant price tag for what is essentially a glorified t-shirt. 

And now we come to the real issue here - if I don't want to blow my budget, what I'm offered is either cotton tops, which just don't wear well and get saggy quickly and have to be washed after each wear, or I have to settle for polyester! God forbid, if you ask me! Risking sounding too snobby, I just don't do synthetics. It itches, it creates static, it goes on my nerves and I don't like the feel of it.

Difficult much? Yes and no. I am definitely not splurging for silk or fine knits this year, so I got down to business and scoured the net and the sales in search of something acceptable. Here's what I've come up with:

1. A patterned, viscose blouse which ticks all the boxes for me - fun details, a flattering cut, color that go with much of my wardrobe.

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2. A two-tone cotton t-shirt with an interesting pattern and a powerful color.

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3. A basic shirt, in cream, communicates timeless, summer style.

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4. Teal and flowers - one of my favorite combinations.

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5. Again, a pattern with an amazing combination of colors - white, rust, ochre, teal.

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5. This is an afterthought, but I couldn't skip it - a perfect, striped cardigan:

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Now I just need to get to the stores and star trying stuff out - I used to be a hit-and-run shopper, just mindlessly racing to the register with anything that caught my fancy, without bothering to enter the changing rooms and have a proper look at myself. Not any more - no money to burn, thank you very much. Will report back with the results.

Bling Bling

With the impending return to the coalface and the daily grind, my mind inevitably turns to wardrobe issues. I have to switch gears and go from playground mommy with cute but often smeared outfits (courtesy of my very own baby:) to office appropriate. And it will not be easy, but I won't lie - I will enjoy it! I like my play clothes primarily for their comfort, but there is only so much of the sneaker/jeans or shorts/birks combinations a girl can stand.

Apart from the actual outfits (which merit a post or two of their own), I find myself fretting over the jewelry section of my not-so-large wardrobe. It has grown, considerably, over the past few years. Some additions more valuable and pricey than others, mostly costume jewelry pieces though and many gifts from the hubby and friends. The emotional value of these pieces is what makes it so difficult for me to try and downsize some so that the whole collection is more manageable and that it allows me easy access and decision-making in the morning rush. 

I've cracked the problem somewhat before the baby girl arrived last fall. Knowing that for months I will be mostly house-trapped and surgically attached to the little one, I culled both my wardrobe and my bling leaving only those easy pieces that I knew would come into play for that instant pulled together look on the odd occasion that would see me leave home and look presentable someplace. The rest of the bling is neatly stashed on the highest shelf of my wardrobe patiently awaiting resurrection from the box.

Most of the things I selected as go-to items for the first year of the baby's life that I'm spending on maternity leave actually got worn, though some more than others. Exhibit A - this cocktail ring which I received as a birthday present last year from my best friend. It's a unique piece from blown glass made in Italy and I find it so special yet so versatile and matching almost everything in my wardrobe. I like a good sized cocktail ring - I have long fingers and nice-looking hands (still) so I don't shy away from showing them off. This is a keeper for my back-to-work combinations for sure.

This charm bracelet was also a last-year birthday gift from a dear friend and it made the cut in many combinations. Although it primarily feels like a summer piece, jangling away with beads and charms, it also has that edgy, leather/metal combination look that got me to wear it during colder months as well. The orange/tobacco colorway helps as well as it goes with most items in my wardrobe.

Desigual bracelets! OMG! The hubby recently visited Barcelona on business and, as requested, he came back with Desigual dresses for me and my elder daughter, however, the store threw in a surprise with the purchase so I received a trio of bracelets as an extra. There is the thinnest, lilac one missing, but it just does not get as much wear as these two. They fit well at a certain point on my forearms and don't come down clanking and banging onto stuff as I wear them, which I find a nuisance especially when I'm seated at a desk or typing at the computer. They get worn almost daily and I love them!

This bracelet was also a random present from the same friend who brought me the cocktail ring from Italy (what can I say, she's a gem ;) and I love it! It's made of recycled bicycle parts (that's what I gathered anyway) and is so edgy and cool that I ended up wearing it more often than I initially thought I would. Keeping it in the work wardrobe though - I'm not sure. This is the summeriest and most casual of all these pieces so I think it will be relegated to the box, waiting for the next spring/summer season.

Mom 2.0

Well, who would've thunk it? Being pregnant, giving birth and becoming a mom the second time around is equally as all-consuming as it was six years ago when I first gave birth. And that's where all the similarities stop. IT IS NOT THE SAME. It is so much more of everything...

My newborn will turn one month next week and to say that my life has undergone a complete and profound change is an understatement. The depth and wealth of emotions I have been going through this past weeks is almost indescribable, wonderful and deeply perturbing, all at the same time.

The biggest changes - at least how I see them now - concern my relationship with my firstborn, my impressions on giving birth, breastfeeding and doing all these things that only women can do, and my attitude towards my body.

I'll try and write about all of these in separate posts in an attempt to clear my head and find reason and rhyme to what is a whirlwind of intense emotions at all times since another precious little girl saw the light of day through the miracle that is childbirth.

It's Friday Tomorrow!

Gosh, it's tiring going to work every day at seven months pregnant . . . That's why I'm excited about Friday! Although, the weather is crap, no real summer this year, rain and hail mainly, interspersed with bouts of sunshine that cause horrible humidity, really not the best performance this year, Summer dear!

I took a long walk on my lunch break today, popping in and out of shops, looking at what's on sale, and trying to stay dry - rain was dripping intermittently every 5-10 minutes.

I mainly wear a uniform of capris, ballet flats and whatever top fits the growing bump these days. Exhibits 1 and 2 below:

Not the most revolutionary look style-wise, but hey - cut the preggo lady some slack, will ya?  These capris from H&M turned out to be life savers this time around as my previous preggo jeans do not fit me this time - somehow, they are just too big. The black jeggings I invested in from Mothercare are also pulling their weight, although the biggest problem are the humid and hot days - I seem to not want to wear anything then and that's not an option, at least in the office ;)

The sales revealed a few covetable items: 

1. a soft, unstructured jacket from Monsoon, in navy, with mustard and red accents, perfect for my style which tends to seer clear of too fitted anything (sadly I cannot find a picture on the net, it must be from some of the previous collections)

2. a ZARA necklace which wold go with just about anything in my wardrobe:

3. a red, faux leather skirt for my daughter, also from ZARA:

But what I really really really want are these shoes:

These are from a local designer and are just the top of the iceberg in fabulous overload that are the rest of the collection of loafers and oxford brogues I fell in love with about a month ago. You can have a look see for yourself here. Amazing, yes?

I now need to think long and hard as to what to order as birthday presents from mum and the hubby - sure some of these will find their way to me neatly tied with a ribbon? ;)

Just finished reading one of Orhan Pamuk's books - The Museum of Innocence - not overly impressed, I give it 3 out f 5 stars. I'm now tackling the New York Post short stories collection available online here and planning the next big read. Also, eagerly awaiting to at least hear the news that the next season of Sherlock started filming (supposedly around New Year's time) and before that I hope we get the chance to see Benedict in 'The Imitation Game' and hear him in 'The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies' soon enough. 

Milestones

In less than a month now I'll be reaching the ripe young age of 34. Sounds . . . scary? No. The number of years I've spent on the Blue Planet so far does not scare me, yet. Mature. Yes, but - I've somehow been born mature, always 'older' than I actually was at the time, and somehow all-knowing of the world and its secrets. Too knowing for my own good. That does not mean I haven't made mistakes. There have been mistakes galore for the 30 something years but I'm not in the retrospective mood this year. Some of the bigger ones have been rehashed too many times for my own good, some lessons learned, yes, some progress at forgiving myself made, but for what I consider the biggest ones - no, no scratching beyond their surface value and I know this is something that would have to happen, eventually. 

It's summer, my favorite time of the year, and although it hasn't been covering itself in glory this time around (I'm talking to you, oh Gods of rain, yes, you heard me), I enjoy it. I enjoy the warmth, the sun, the fruit, the lazy feeling, the empty Belgrade, and only regret not getting to go to the seaside this year, due to the planned vacation dates being too close to my actual due date. I guess summer is also what makes my birthdays more tolerable and somehow always taken more lightly than what the numbers suggest. Everything is less serious in August.

The birthday this year gets me closer to another birthday - of my unborn child, and that's what sets the tone for being 34. Will everything be all right? Will I give birth to a healthy child? How will my older daughter cope with the new addition to the household? Will I make mistakes as a parent of two? Will those mistakes be the ones that my kids resent me for in their 20s or 30s? How will I cope with two kids? Am I going to go mental for a few months like the last time around? Am I ever again coming back to myself, to what I want, need, wish and be free to do it? How much adjustment will it take? Will the compromises ever stop? How will my marriage be affected by all this? 

Doubt much? Yes. Worry much? Oh, yes, definitely. Scared? Way too much. I am scared of this new chapter in my life more than I'd like to admit. But that's me. I'm always scared and worried in advance. And than when it's time to perform/take the test/pass the exam, everything usually falls into place and happens the way it should. It's not always the way I expect it to be, though, but that does not mean that it ends up badly, no. 

I have an impression that I'm breathing hard these days, catching my breath, getting ready for the ride of my life. I know nothing will ever be the same. I don't know how will it turn out and what to expect. Am I ready? I don't know that either. All I know is that when it starts happening, I'll manage, hell, I'll even do a stellar job at times, or less of a good one at other moments, but I'll give it my all and I won't be looking back. And I won't be doing it on my own.

I hope the number 34 brings joy and good times for my family. I hope it brings that feeling of being good in your own skin and the ever-elusive peace of mind. I hope it brings clarity, reason, purpose and significance. I hope it adds to an improved version of me.

Here's to birthdays and great expectations!

Friday Favorites

1. My new fragrance: my mom's nearest and dearest treated her to a week-long trip to Paris in honor of her 60th birthday (mom, you rock!). Apart from having a ball, mom did the obligatory cheese and macarons shopping, as well as brought a little something something for a very special someone, er, me. Having accidentaly broken a bottle of my favorite Iris by Prada a few months ago, I went without a signature scent as I couldn't really decide which one to get. Mom resolved all dilemmas and came back with a new Givenchy fragrance, Eau Demoiselle. I love it to bits, it's gentle and flowery and does not interfere with my sensitive prego nose. And the packaging is great, vintage-looking, taking pride of place on my vanity.

2. The new Coldplay album, on repeat since released, calming and soothing for my overwrought nerves. I remember doing the same during my first pregnancy, no wonder my daughter loves them.

I am someone

This really blew me off today . . . I think I've been searching for a real definition of this feeling of complexity for so long and these simple yet poignant words just wowed me when I read them this morning. I am somebody without labels, definitions, fake priorities of shoulds and must-haves and all that - I am me and that is so many mes all wrapped up in one and I don't want to let go of any of them. They may mature, change over time, so their voices are subdued and some others take over but they are all inside. A teenager who knows the lyrics to all new MTV/VH1 tunes, a geeky bookworm in eternal quest for knowledge, a doting mom, a loving wife, a sexy woman, a clumsy woman, a sister, a friend, a child, a big goof, an all-too-serious grown-up, prone to tears and rages and meek as a lamb all at once, all in one, me!

Word!

Here is the smartest, most to the point, eye-opener of a text that I have read ever on the subject of women and 'having it all'. A painful, realistic picture of society at large and our place in it. I had to share, I hope someone else also finds it useful.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

Next month i will be turning 33. Wow! The Jesus' years, the 'you're in your fourth decade and you cannot ignore it any longer' years, magic years. It's hardly time for looking back and casting nostalgic looks over the decades past - I still think I'm too young for that, but a few home truths have definitely hit me as I tallied up the numbers and came up with 33.

I always thought I'd have at least two kids by the time I'm 33. And I thought I'd have at least a master degree under my belt if not a PhD. For the rest, I'm pretty much there with the hopes and dreams of my youth. A proud mom, a wife and a partner of 14 years, a home-owner (married to the bank, counting every penny towards loan payments though, but still;), and working for almost 10 years now. Not bad, I need to pat myself on the back more often, though not too often or I'll get complacent.

When I look in the mirror, I see a mature version of my round face, pale complexion and baby-blues. I see wrinkles and lines, I see redness that just won't go away but is under control and I see a difference after a good night's sleep which means time is taking its toll on the suppleness of my skin.
I started exercising regularly two months ago and I see a difference in the shape of my body and what is more important I feel stronger and am aware of certain muscles I didn't know I had before. The long and winding journey to full self acceptance and making peace with my body image and whatever looks back at me from the mirror is a place I haven't reached yet, but I seem to be getting there easier with years.Oh, and, I'm completely gray haired. Blame it on bad genes. Root touch ups every six weeks are a must.

I still feel like a teenager about certain things - I listen to all the latest music, I know all celebrity gossip and I fall in love with movie stars every now and then, passionately and hopelessly, as can be evidenced from the sidebar of this blog. Other than that, I'm pretty much too grown up and serious about most things in my life, which can make me seem strict and unforgiving, and black-or-white, but no, in reality there is a lot of grey I see, understand and have in my life as well.

What I wish to change is to become a better listener, to shift the focus away from the all-consuming thinking/behaving like 'me' is the center of everything and really pay attention to other people. Not that I don't but I want to do more of it. Listening and really engaging with others makes us feel human and also lets us have another look at ourselves and our lives from a different perspective that a constant inward look cannot provide.

What I also wish is to do more of the things I seem to have forgotten I like. I want to learn another language, I want to read more books, I want to go out dancing more often and I want to travel more, more, more.

I say, bring it on 33!

Peaches and Cream

It's the season of peaches and I'm enjoying it to the full since they are my favorite fruit. There is a nice elderly gentleman selling them on our local market that has trouble speaking but is nevertheless very nice to his customers and has really first-class goods so in addition to really loving the fruit I like seeing him throughout summer and going to the same set of nods and smiles when buying peaches every time. Being a clumsy person, I'm also a messy eater so I end up with stains from peach juice dribbling down my hands but the messiness of consuming peaches also makes me like them more. And if that's not enough, read here why peaches are good for you!

Other summertime joys these days consist of watching reruns of a great danish TV series - Borgen - every night with the hubby. It's a great political drama with complex characters, great dialogue and a plot that keeps you guessing with every new episode. Inevitably there's love affairs galore, tit-for-tat party politics, backstabbing, loudmouth journalists - all necessary for a good story on politics and power. I also like the fact that the Prime Minister is a lady - sometimes it really hurts to watch what she is made to do and become in order to stay afloat among the political opponents, her own party friends who watch for the least inkling of a wrong move to jump at the opportunity to oust her from the position of power and especially how that affects her personal and family life. Warmly recommended for hot summer nights ;)

When working, this Bastille album just keeps playing in the background, helps me think, concentrate better:

The latest shoe craving:

I mean, what's not to love?

Hindsight vision is 20/20

The rough part is making the right decisions, doing the right things, taking the right path now. And not having regrets/second thought later on. If only I could send out some wise words to my younger self, there are things I would have done differently. Because now I know and I understand so much better.

I would have cleared out all issues related to body image once and for all at the age of fifteen. I would tell myself 'you're young and you're beautiful, everything about you is beautiful - your body, your skin, your hair, your face - own it, enjoy it, appreciate it and feel good about it now!'

I would make myself be less hard on, well, myself. I would lose the guilt trips, let myself fail and pick up and go from there - failure is not a bad thing, you can't live in constant fear of failing and be paralyzed by it. You need to fail and fail early enough in order to be able to grow from it. Suck it up soldier and move on!

I would stress less about almost everything, especially my studies. But I would also feel more confident about being smart and showing it. Always. Without the fear of looking stupid. Without apologizing for it.

I would doubt myself less. Because, in all honesty, you can do anything if you are prepared to work hard and learn. Nothing mysterious about it. Just plain hard work, sweat of your brow, elbow grease.

I would pay so much less attention to what anyone has to say about anything and just go with my gut. People and their views on your life/actions/mistakes are only as important as you make them out to be. If you're going to make mistakes, make them your own so that later there is no one else to blame.

And I would smile more and be happy more and savor every moment of being happy and go out more, dance more. I wouldn't do drugs through. I don't regret that.

Friendships

Evolution of these ties that shape our lives is something that I think about often. Especially how our personal (r)evolutions affect our friendships. I don't always have the best answers, or any answers for that matter.
The one thing that seemed to work best so far is just letting go, not forcing it, letting all pieces fall into place in order to (re)establish balance, understanding, renew trust and confidence. You can't force people to understand you or go through the same things you're going through and think the same or come out the other end the same.
Using yourself and your experiences as a starting point for any relationship only helps so much and it often becomes a big obstacle to communication. The most important thing is to listen. Offering sage advice comes second to that. Sometimes people just need to be listened to. They don't need instant solutions. They just need your time and that feeling that you understand. God knows I do.

 Being a friend is one of the roles we assume in life, just like being a partner, a child, a parent, a sibling. At a certain point in our lives being a friend becomes more important than all other roles. For me it was my youth, high school and university years to an extent. That 'me' was was in a way the best, most easy going and natural version of me. I was a friend and I received so much from my friends. We were a support system, a forum for debates and checks of everything important in our lives, an unquestionable hub of trust, loyalty, love and understanding.
As we grew up, things changed. I can only speak about myself so I will - I changed in as much that my expectation of ultimate trust and understanding now shifted towards my boyfriend (who will later become my husband). And that detracted from my friendships. I was heart and soul 100% in this relationship so the focus of my energy shifted to making it work and to figuring out what the hell am I going to do with my life.
Fast forward a decade and I'm back at reestablishing myself. I fell in love, lived through a fulfilling relationship (and I still am in the same one), got married, had a child and am hammering at my career - I went full circle. Now I'm back to myself. To speaking to and listening to myself. And figuring out how friends and friendships fit in this.
I never stopped loving my friends. I never stopped expecting to give and receive the ultimate support that needs no explanation or cause. I need to feel loved by my friends. I need to be important to them. I also need to be able to show and make them feel important to me.
So I try. And in some instances I just tried too hard. So some friendships fell apart. The oldest ones, from way back in my childhood. Some fell apart and some are watered down to phone conversations every six months. Is that friendship? Or is that feeling that you're just picking up wherever you left last the only thing that matters even though it happens twice every year over the phone? I miss the presence of some of my friends. The actual physical exchanges. And for some of these I went the extra mile but never got the mile in return. So I stopped. And I take whatever is given and consider it enough.
I want to grow old with my friends. I want us to go to the theater/movies/coffees/drinks in our seventies. And be able to speak about everything, truthfully and honestly as ever. And laugh together a lot because my biggest problem is that I take life way too seriously most of the time!

Cancer

Today marks the beginning of another chapter of my family's ongoing battle with cancer. After my aunt died of liver failure caused by cancer metastases in 2001, aged 50, and after my father died of same causes in 2010, aged 56, their sole remaining sibling, my other aunt, is starting chemo today because of breast cancer. She is 61.
Should I feel better because the age at which this silent killer attacks is extended in each case? I hoped it would skip her and we, the second generation, could find a grain of consolation in that and not think of ourselves as destined for doom once we hit 50. What does this say of our genetic make up? Statistics are ruthless. We are all in great risk by sheer virtue of being our parents' offspring. One 'faulty' parent is all it takes.
I am aware a lot of this has to do with lifestyle and habits, environment and circumstances. But among the three of them, my father was the one who most contributed to his own demise and one would think ok, fair enough, he had it coming. For my eldest aunt who died first - no such explanation/excuse. She led a healthy life, ate well, exercised, and went for regular check ups. And yet when she was diagnosed they gave her 2-3 months before the bitter end. She beat all the odds and survived that prognosis by two years. But she never lived to see her daughter get married and give birth to two beautiful granddaughters.
My other aunt is overweight, granted, and a chain smoker, so I guess it's no surprise as well. But in her case the monster didn't raise its ugly head until she ventured into her 60s. And breast cancer has by far a more optimistic survival rate than liver/colon cancer. Yet, I'm not consoled. I'm worried and sad. I am trying to stay positive and send positive thoughts her way and I really, really want her to fight a good fight and come out victorious at the other end.
Another thing I'm noticing - dealing with this, the disease, the diagnostics, the surgeries, the chemo and prognosis - it's somehow easier each time. You know the drill, you know how it goes and what lies at each turn. And the fact that I have a doctor husband does not actually help - I am faced with the ugly, medical home truths about it all, no sparing my feelings and no beating about the bush. Blood, sweat, vomit and tears. The lot.
I wish I had more positive feelings on this. I wish I had a better attitude towards the disease and doing something about it. I'm still at the stage where I'm mostly paralyzed by prospects and fear for my own life. But I have a child and I have a responsibility to her - to stay sane foremost, and to stay healthy.

Dragonfly - the perfect example of the fleetingness of life

Random Acts of Kindness

When walking to work every morning I have to pass through a rather narrow street the actual width of which does not prevent drivers from speeding by as if on the Monaco rally. The curb is also a narrow strip of security not wide enough for two people to pass each other by without one of them stepping onto the street. It's been a few mornings now that several different people, men I have to say, have made a conscious effort to step onto the street and let me pass by safely. These gestures were made swiftly but deliberately enough to make me realize in a few seconds that I was passing by that those were acts of kindness and paying attention to the person coming your way. I feel good about this as it says people are not as insensitive, callous, mindless and rude as we are led to believe these days. No, there are enough regular people around, we just have to notice.

In other, less serious observations, look what caught my fancy these days:

Source

As well as these:

Source

Be still my beating heart! I kinda need both, but given my 30-year marriage to the bank I'll wait for the sales. There's no harm in looking, though, right?

Watching reruns of Homeland and the first season of The Americans - I'm a sucker for a good spy story. 

And spring is finally here!!!

Perfection

Look, the only beef I have with Gwyneth Paltrow is the fact that she's married to Chris Martin, the Coldplay frontman and the sexiest piano-playing-cum-wonderful-verse-writing musician around, as far as I'm concerned. As for everything else, we're cool, Gwynny and I, although many have criticized her for appearing holier-than-though mostly because of putting her (sometimes too strong and polarizing) opinions on public display through her blog, GOOP. That, and the incredible body she has after giving two births. That's always a tough one to forgive ;-)

I like her blog, I don't always agree with her opinions, but most of the times I find what she writes and the people she invites to write there very good and worth a read. In this week's series, BE, she broached the subject of perfection/imperfection with this opening statement:

'Striving for achieving a sense of perfection has been a misguided belief in my life, often leading me down the wrong path. It has made me, at times, place value on the wrong things. It has made me not listen to my true self for fear that I would somehow fail in another's eyes. I was curious as to how the idea of perfection has become so pervasive in our society, how it begins, how it hurts us and perhaps, even, if it carries a certain benefit.'

This rang so true in my ears for this is who I have been for so long and in so many occasions, more or less important on the road I have traveled so far. I wrote about it here. Perfection, like happiness, is something we are led to believe we need to be/live/achieve all the time. In reality, we don't. No one can be happy 100% of time, or perfect. No one needs to be happy and perfect 100% of time. It's ok to fail, it's ok to let other people down sometimes, it's ok to be sad and miserable if it can't be helped. Sure, no one likes sad and miserable people, but we also do not need to be liked all the time.

What we need is to be true to ourselves, our inner feeling, our gut if you will and answer to no one other than ourselves for our decisions and choices. It's hard and it hurts but it's the most honest way to go about life, I believe.

Here's the whole thing from GOOP, it's a good read I promise.

I'm looking forward to a chat with my friend today. Come noon time and it's time for Armageddon you'll find us sipping coffee and talking like there's no tomorrow ;-) Just like always!

Midlife Crisis at 30

A great article which I stumbled upon quite accidentally. A good read about the struggles that we, the women in our 30s, have by virtue of being daughters of our mothers who first experienced the pains associated with having it all. Read more

Enlightening ;-)

Speaking of Body Image

Just have a look see at this lady's brave posting. Hurray for her and hurray for all women on their rocky at times but steady road to self-acceptance!