something old

The last day of blogtember has arrived. Which kind of scares me because September has flown by without me even noticing it and now I have to organise myself for October. If only Jenni did this sort of challenge every month. Today's prompt: Share a photo of something old. Maybe something that has personal history for you, that was passed down to you, and that has special meaning to you. Tell us about it and why it's special.

I have had this blanket since I was a baby; I have photograph from when I was around a year old, sprawled out on this bad boy. It has been a constant part of life and travelled to Cyprus with me because it was one of those items I simply couldn't leave behind. 

It is hand-made, it has its own little 80's character and it has sentimental value. The funny thing is I don't know who made it for me. But it lasted 24 years, with only one repair job (thanks' to a very talented auntie) so they did a good job!

The day we got honest with facebook

Today's blogtember post calls for a little honesty. 

Dear Facebook, I don't like the continual changes that surprise me when I just got used to the current way things are done. I do not like the randomly generated funny status updates. I do not like the suggested pages; which FYI are never interesting to me. Just because I live in Cyprus does not mean I want to buy a house or am interested in UK expat pension plans.

I have way too many "friends" on my friends list; maybe the 6 month rule I use for my wardrobe (if it hasn't been worn in 6 months, it is no longer needed) should be applied to my facebook. 

The feelings option does not make me want to share my feelings. Neither do I want to know what friends of my friends of my friends are doing. And in that box we can put cryptic, attention grabbing status and the oh my child is perfect photographs. 

So you know what I am doing this weekend.....facebook spring clean anyone? 

P.s If we are actually friends in real life, or you have a blog I follow, none of the above comments are meant for you. 

writing from the same place I do everyday...

I really wish I had had the time to embrace day 18 of blogtember properly. Instead I am in my usual blogging spot (my bed) with the pooch. Im half way there though since I still managed to blog today! 

Today we were meant to go to a coffee shop, order our favourite drink and write about what makes us happy/sad/or anything we want. I failed to go to a coffee shop. I failed to write from some place new. But I am writing. Which in itself is a small achievement.

The past few weeks feel like a blur of work, sleep, dog walking, more sleep, showering, more work and as much blogging as one can manage when they work full time. And being a single pooch mother  means all dog related responsibilities which were split between me and the boyfriend, now fall on me. It's kinda tough being solely responsible for a little four legged friend. 

But she is my constant little piece of happiness.

I come home and she is there, waiting, tail wagging with excitement, ready to walk and play. It would be so easy to get angry at her when she cleans her paws on my bed and leaves a nice little dirty wet puddle on the cover. But the puppy eyes melt my heart. For the few trauma's that come along with being a dog owner, there is a whole lot of reward! 

This weeks happiness came from the London Grammar album, the home-made doughnuts (thanks to my Polish friends very talented mother who is visiting) which came to work today and the cool temperatures. 

The sad stuff is always there, but lets not get into that now.

I'd rather have a life littered with mistakes

I think in my life time I have made a lot of mistakes. 25 years is certainly enough time to trip up every now and then. Whether it's the small "whoops" mistakes or the bigger "oh how is life ever going to be the same" mistakes, human nature prevails and mistakes are an inevitable part of life. 

For me the problem is not making mistakes; no one is perfect. But the sticking point is how you handle them. And how you learn from them. I would much rather have a life littered with mistakes because they are opportunities for you to learn. If there is no bump in the road how do you ever learn how to handle situations and problem-solve?

Ok so now I sound like a careers counsellor or something. 

One of the scariest things is admitting you made a mistake; sometimes (usually those dark days where you would rather stay under the duvet than face the world) I wonder if taking the expat route was a mistake. Will people think I failed if I leave? Was leaving London a mistake? How would life have panned out if I had stayed? But the answer to all those questions does not compare to the experiences I have had, by removing myself from London. 

Leaving was not a mistake. It was probably the best decision I ever made; I have met some wonderful people, I have formed amazing relationships, I have worked in another country, I have lived in another culture and I have (loosely) learnt another language. 

The things I have learnt along the way have changed me forever. I am a better person for the "mistakes" I have made. 

review

For me today's blogtember prompt was a no-brainer. I had to review a book.

I used to read a lot when I was living in London. My morning bus/tube/train journey was the perfect excuse for a few pages of escapism and there was always a trip across London to see friends or visit something which meant a good hour with my head buried in the pages of book. But here in Cyprus, my reading ceased somewhat. Mainly because of a lack of English books at an affordable price. So the boyfriend gifted me with a Kindle which transformed my reading experience. 

So today we are going to talk about The Last Letter from Your Lover, by JoJo Moyes. The best book I have read in a long time. Mainly because I have an affinity with the writing style of the author; something which I think is so important for me. It is actually kind of the deal breaker for me, you know the moment where you either read past the first chapter or put it down, where it will sit gathering dust on the coffee table. 

The Last Letter from your Lover is one of those wonderfully raw, witty and modern books, that suck me right into the story. It has the perfect amount of romance, without be soppy and emotional and the harsh realities of life really balance the story line. 

A journalist, Ellie discovers a love letter from the 1960's in the newspaper archive. The love letter, was written by a man to his lover, asking her to leave her husband. That women is Jennifer, who wakes up in 1960, after a car accident and doesn't know anything. Ellie's life is somewhat awkward and cringey, while Jennifer's is glamourous albeit unhappy. I love how the two stories intertwine throughout the book; a 1960's love story and a modern love/lust story which collide at the end in an oh-I-did-not-know-that-was-going-to-end-like-that type of ending. 

Obviously I don't want to give too much away. But if you like sarcastic, modern writing and can follow two story lines as the swerve in out of each other, then this book is for you. 

life lately

Such a broad prompt for day 14 of Blogtember (which is going too quickly for my liking). A "life lately" post. What you're up to, how you're feeling, how you're doing on your goals, etc. Bonus points for great photos!

How to sum up life lately. I would say (with great honesty) that it has been turbulent. A bit like a  bumpy plane journey, everything is swell and then bam! A bump in the airspace. Except the bump in my instance is usually my emotions. I would tend to blame the seasons. Summer seems to be slowly fading; and when I say that I mean we are now averaging just 30 degrees and I can bare wearing jeans and trainers again. 

Although the bumpiness could also be explained by the pang of homesickness that has cropped up this week. But thats a normal thing for an expat. I haven't been to London since May and while the months have flown by, suddenly my heart and head are both craving a little London time. A little time to be in the city, use public transport, walk across waterloo bridge, eat chinese food, visit museums and sit for hours talking with friends face to face instead of through facebook/whatsapp/viber/email. 

In other news there has been some eating, some drinking and some pretty skies. 

comfort

Blogtember day 13. And today we are reacting to the term "comfort". Everyone know's I am a home girl. I am all about comfort and feeling at ease. So for me comfort is all of these things:

Being under the duvet (because for 4 months of the year, the duvet is banished from my bed).

Drinking wine al-fresco, in the summer, with friends, and a cheese board!

Walking the dog in the morning; it's cool, it's quiet and it's the best way to start the day.

Sweat pants and trainers (and I am even a little surprised at that one - I never liked trainers).

Landing at Heathrow - grey sky, terminal buildings and traffic jams strangely (I never thought I would miss this stuff) bring instant comfort. 

Blogger; my little comfort zone that no one controls except me.

My phone - it's my way of documenting my world, my way of communicating and more importantly my way of maintaing relationships. 

Hagen Daz. Enough said.

something fictional.

So day 12 of Blogtember is all about writing a fictional short story with the first sentence: "To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century.". Ok so I kinda have an overactive imagination and thought this one would be easy; think again. It turns out I have too many thoughts and writing something fictional, short and somewhat acceptable was harder than I thought. But I made it...finally!

To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century. Firstly, dinner party's upset my balance; all that forced interaction with people you don't care for really makes for one uncomfortable evening. 

And being a food writer always makes for those awkward conversations like "so what would your review say about tonight". Err I am not working now and fyi I charge by the word! It's like asking a comedian to tell you a joke or a doctor to give you an on-the-spot diagnosis. 

And then there was the fact that Emma was one of the most insufferable women I have ever met. She had that perfect air about her. The I-am-effortlessly-pretty-and-can-tackle-anything-that-anyone-throws-at-me look whilst always looking immaculate and being nicer than snow white. How do those women do it? Do they never have a bad day? Do they wake up with a smile and a full face of make-up? 

I had been procrastinating for too long now and I had just 15 minutes to get ready; bravo Amy. Not only was I dreading such an evening but now I am going to turn up late, looking like crap and sweating cause I ran from the tube station in an effort to not be so late that I look like I don't care. Marvellous. What an entrance that will be. 

And there I was, still sitting on the floor in the bathroom painting my toenails which I will inevitably cover up with tights and some sort of boots which vaguely co-ordinate with the dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door. 

Unfortunately I don't have a Carrie Bradshaw closet. So if there was one thing that was going to make me feel better about tonight, it was a new dress. And in these sort of situations, new dresses can come from one place and one place only. Burberry. 

Maybe I was channeling some sort of Emma Watson style; however the similarities between me and her ended at the same hair cut. Well it was purchased now and the labels had been hastily removed because the price tag felt like it was screaming at me from the bathroom. So there was no returning it. And there was no going back on this evening. I had run out of excuses and now was the time to suck it up, put on my mascara and endure 4 hours of dreary conversation with people who claim to be my friends and no nothing about my life. 

As I stepped off the tube my heart felt like it was in the bottom of my stomach and I half wished the nice lady telling me to mind the gap would be silent for one minute so I could fall down said gap and all my problems would be solved. Ok so maybe throwing myself onto the tube lines was a bit dramatic. 

I had walked at a casual place so as to not look sweaty but all the thinking about tubes and platforms had clouded my brain and I was now standing outside the perfect duck-egg blue front door. Even her front door was perfect for goodness sake. If I had a black marker pen it would be the perfect opportunity for some impromptu graffiti. 

I rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. Oh good maybe the party's cancelled. 

Just as I was about to turn and run away, the door opened. And the smile I had perfected for Emma's benefit was almost smacked off my face as I looked up to see him. And the only thing I could say...."what the hell are you doing here".

Well the Burberry dress was a good investment wasn't it!

say it with pictures

the cleanser fixing my summer savaged skin!

my current breakfast of choice (at my desk at work)

this little lady is lovable but boy oh boy is she driving me crazy at the moment

my mornings - up before the sun

winter colours

sleepy dog

street cafe

breakfast bagels

A memory to relive

When I was approximately 7/8, I went in a helicopter. 

At the time I was young and innocent and my feet had never left the ground. I had never been a plane and I remember the anxiety of that moment, sitting in the helicopter waiting to go up. My little seven year old self was almost peeing her pants she was so scared. 

Squished in between my brother and my aunt, because sitting at the edge meant the possibility of falling out just incase the door flung open, I didn't exactly have the best view. But at that age, it was more the feeling that overtook the moment and to be honest I think I was almost too scared to look out of the window.

Unfortunately, back in 1990 whatever, we didn't have fancy phones or cameras and the only photograph of me and said helicopter is sitting somewhere in my aunt's house. 

So if anyone has a helicopter and wants to come pick me up from Cyprus....just drop me an email.

the look of Love

Day 10 in the Blogtember challenge calls for a public love letter. The problem I had with this post is that I could have written it to one special person but that was kind of obvious. I could even have written to the dog who has kept me sane but then you would think I was crazy. Then there is any number of friends both near and far. But I could't pick just one. 

And then it hit me that this whole love letter malarky could be turned on it's head and instead of approaching it in the traditional, star crossed lovers, separated by oceans with just pen and paper for communication, kind of way, I could take it as an opportunity to vocalize the unconditional love I have  for papa Finerty. 

You have been the voice of reason since I was just knee-height. You fed and clothed me for 22 years. You have silently supported every decision I have made and have never passed judgement. You have respected my privacy and you have put my happiness first. 

You are the reason I am the women I am now; you taught me respect, honesty, sarcasm and humor. And even though I left you for another country and a boy, I am sure you love me every bit as much as you did the day I was born. 

And for all those reasons I love you more and appreciate the opportunities you have given me, with every year that passes. 

self-portrait

It's self portrait day.  Which reminds me of art class. And being given a pencil and a blank sheet of paper and being told to draw myself. You see I kind of have a problem with my face. I think my face is kind of long, I have a large forehead which is the reason for my fringe and I dont like my mouth; it doesn't do a natural smile and I always look a bit awkward in photographs.  Most women have their hang-ups so I know I am not alone. I think as I got older I grew into my features a bit more and began accepting that some things cannot be changed. But I certainly feel more at home behind the camera than in front of it. 

That being said this is my favourite picture of myself this summer; Ray Bans, sand, sea, sun and a Mojito in hand. Oh summer of 2013 you have given me a sunburnt nose on many occasions and many wonderful weekends at the beach. But now, I want you to go and bring some colder weather so I cant start wearing hoodies and jeans again. 

Day 8 - how has blogging changed me?

So yesterdays Blogtember post got lost somewhere in the whole mess of my day. But since the prompt was how has blogging and social media changed you.....I guess it was quite appropriate in this context. Although I am still kinda disappointed that I am day late. And I was doing so well. 

But let's get on with it now we are here. Blogging has brought so many positives and some negatives to my life, but overall it has made me more confident as a person. Having an outlet to write is very important for me and my self-esteem, because writing is my thing. 

Having a space to put pen to paper so-to-speak has allowed me to embrace my passion for words and also develop a more confident approach, not just to my blogging but my everyday life. And then there is the sense of community. Whatever type of blogger you are, you will find like-minded people who will hopefully comment and give you feedback and who you can share your passion with. I know I always bring everything back to the fact that I am an expat but, having such a community, can really be a boost on the days when your feeling a little lonely. 

Of course there are negatives to blogging and social media. I mean I really want to post everyday of the week and that can be a bit of a challenge, especially when you work full time and have social commitments, sometimes it is just not possible (unless your superwomen or super organised). And sometimes I can be a bit hard on myself if I don't manage to post something each day.

It is at these times that I realise how much blogging has taken over my world. When you are constantly thinking about updating twitter, how many followers you have on facebook, or taking the right photograph of a moment to use in a blogpost, it can be stressful and often you will look back and realise the moment you were so worried about capturing is gone and you didn't really soak it up. 

But I guess with every hobby, you have to choose how much you let it into your life and as a result how much you let it affect you and your everyday. I think after several years of blogging, it has pretty much become my everyday. 

the comfort of online shopping

Shopping can get me a bit stressed out sometimes. Those tiny cubicles with harsh lighting and flimsy curtains kinda make me feel nervous when I'm standing there in my pants trying to squeeze into a dress in Zara that looks more like a top on me. And the choice of shops in Cyprus is a little limited. It is quite possible that another girl at work will have the same dress as you (this has happened) and don't even get me started in beauty products. I can never find the brands I want at the prices I can afford.

That being said many shops dont ship to Cyprus, or since we are on the edge of Europe they charge millions of euros for shipping which makes it so not worth it in the first place. So I still to two little gems that keep me clothed and my beauty cabinet stocked. 

ASOS

Well ASOS is just perfect for me because it is a one-stop-shop with hundreds of great brands that I cannot find in Cyprus and they ship for free. Their choice puts them above the rest because whatever you need; office outfit, sweatpants for Saturdays or a dress for a wedding, ASOS has you covered. I am currently lusting after some yummy autumn pieces - I just need the Cypriot weather to cooperate with me and get cooler!

source

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Feel Unique
This store is my go to for beauty products. They have a ridiculously huge choice of brands and you can find everything you need to stock up your beauty cabinet in just a few clicks. From skincare, to make up and fragrance, they even have suncare, vitamins and supplements and specialised skin products. And the best bit is they ship free, worldwide. None of this shipping depending on the weight of your products stuff.

clockwise from top left: Nuxe Reve de Miel Lip Balm
Essie Nail Colour in Luxedo
Elizabeth Arden Exfoliating Cleanser
Benefit Bad Gal Lash Mascara. 

Turning points

We are into the swing of a new Blogtember week. And today its time to describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.

There are many thing's I could ramble on about now, all of which I am sure I have talked about before and therefore I am probably going to bore some of you.

But I think one of the most distinctive moments that turned everything around was making the decision to leave England. That moment scared and excited me all in one go. It showed me I had more courage and guts than I knew I had. And I realised I had a confidence that was lurking there somewhere just waiting to come out. 

That decision allowed me to break free from the monotonous everyday of the life I had in London and although you end up in a work/life routine whichever country you live in, that small step made a huge difference to my quality of life. 

Cyprus has given me a healthier and safer life; that small but scary decision has given me a whole host of opportunities and experiences that inevitably changed me as a person and allowed my character to develop in ways I didn't know possible. 

Sometimes I think we have to force ourselves to turn a corner and those distinct moments will become memories. The sort of memories you tell you grandchildren! 

personality test (this is a good one!)

I just want to put out there that I generally hate personality/health/IQ test thingys, but in the spirit of Blogtember I complied accordingly with Jenni's request. 

*drumroll please* 

I am type INFJ personality. 

Yeh I dont know either how they come up with this stuff. Except scarily, the breakdown sounds kinda familiar. Im a bit of an introvert, intuitive, focused on my feelings and have a moderate preference to judging (which is a bit odd because I really don't think I am a judgmental person but maybe I understand it wrong)

Not to bore you, you can get the complete breakdown of the INFJ personality here. And after some further analysis, I would have to say many of the comments are quite accurate. INFJ personalities have a knack for communication, are sympathetic, selective when it comes to friendships, idealists, follow their dreams but get things done. 

INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people -- a product of the Feeling function they most readily show to the world. On the contrary, INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates." While instinctively courting the personal and organizational demands continually made upon them by others, at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood

I know most people who know me would laugh if I told them I am somewhat shy, but the above really quite accurately describes my personality. I am genuinely interested in people because I think you can learn a lot from those around you. But I don't feel the need to be surrounded by a huge group of friends and can feel almost anxious in large social situations. 

I think this is something I have learnt over the years; when you decide to become an expat, you inevitably have to accept that some relationships will not last. For me friendships need substance; I think I am content knowing the friendships I continue to maintain with people near and far are all because I really love and respect those people. I also think this personality trait serves me well because I a am happy with my own company. 

For instance, there can sometimes be a "tug-of-war" between NF vision and idealism and the J practicality that urges compromise for the sake of achieving the highest priority goals.

I think my head is much older than my years, because I always look at the practicalities of a situation before throwing myself into it. A quality which can be good and bad in equal measure. I have an idealistic approach to the world; I want to fix all the problems and like to the see the best in people and I am quite happy to forgo my preferences in pursuit of compromise. 

Usually self-expression comes more easily to INFJs on paper, as they tend to have strong writing skills. Since in addition they often possess a strong personal charisma, INFJs are generally well-suited to the "inspirational" professions such as teaching (especially in higher education) and religious leadership. Psychology and counseling are other obvious choices, but overall, INFJs can be exceptionally difficult to pigeonhole by their career paths. Perhaps the best example of this occurs in the technical fields. Many INFJs perceive themselves at a disadvantage when dealing with the mystique and formality of "hard logic", and in academic terms this may cause a tendency to gravitate towards the liberal arts rather than the sciences.

I think this is my favourite part of the whole analysis. Firstly it is spookily correct about the way I express myself (errr hello blogger) which makes me think my opening statement that I hate the personality tests should be retracted. 

This is also my favourite section because apparently I should be in an inspirational profession such as teacher or religious leader...........................................................................................................sorry I was just rolling on the floor laughing for a second. This is the least accurate part of the analysis; while personlity wise I could stand strong in such profession, in practice I could not, since the introvert side of me would overtake me too much to teach and I am kinda cloudy on where I stand on religious matters. 

However I think it is correct when it talks about pigeonholing me by my career path; for me I have a totally different attitude to work. I am not a high power career women, but I have a strong work ethic. I will adapt to my surroundings and my job accordingly. And oh boy get me as far away from science as you can. Writing, fashion theory, culture and images is where my heart lies. 

So turns out the personlity test wasnt such a waste of time. 

And I learnt that I have the same personlity type as Nelson Mandela, Nichole Kidman and Jamie Foxx. If you made it this far throughout my post, HI 5! (And the boyfriends mum was saying my blog posts have been ever so short recently.....) 

first I was afraid, I was petrified...

Ok enough of that. Let's get down to the serious matter of talking about when I was very afraid. It's day 4 of Blogtember and this is an easy one for me. 

So a little background. When we were little we didn't go on fancy holidays to Majorca or Mallorca or any of the places most families went to. We weren't poor and we weren't wealthy, so our holidays were spent in England, usually in the Isle of Whight or some similar costal destination. But I never begrudged my parents for these holidays. In fact, I had some of the best summer holidays a kid could wish for. 

The whole point of this is that I never flew when I was little. We lived pretty close to Heathrow (planes landing almost on our house kinda close) and I remember going to the education center on one of those school trips that put learning into practice or whatever. I was so amazed watching these huge planes take off and land. And also a little curious about what it was like to fly. 

above a snowy Heathrow

I didn't take my first flight until I was 16 and it was probably the most afraid I have ever been in my life. The flight to Cyprus was just 4 and half hours but we had bad turbulence (just my luck) and I honestly thought I was going to be sick with every jolt of the plane.

I have somewhat found my flying feet, although I am still not the best flyer. But being an expat I think you have to adopt a different attitude.Because either I get on the plane to go see my friends and family, or I stay stuck on a little island miserable and homesick. 4 and half hours and a bumpy plane journey are totally worth it.

Aren't I too young to give advice..?

I think I am.  But a wise women once said (and this is somewhat of a test to see if she actually reads the blog) ....
Knowledge is better than ignorance. 
The advice was in relation to some test results I was waiting for from the doctor (all good by the way). But those words have been roaming round my brain ever since. Knowledge is better than ignorance.  When I broke it down she was right. I would rather know I was sick, for example and have time for treatment, than be ignorant to the problems that could be there and just brush it under the carpet.  Life is too short to be ignorant.  Knowledge is power. Whether it's reading the news, learning a new language, educating yourself about an important topic; knowledge is the key to personal development. I believe you can't move forward in life, if you don't arm yourself with the tools to do so. I think we are getting a bit deep now. And I am sure you get the point.  So whether it is reading about the situation in Syria, learning a new skill, listening to someone's opinion about an important social issue....knowledge is better than ignorance.  Plus it helps you to face the big bad world with a more realistic eye!  

if I had 3 months off...

Day 2 of Blogtember and today's prompt is; If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do? 

I have never been the travelling sort. The thought of packing my necessary items into a backpack that would positively break my back, carrying it round the world, showering in some questionable places and having no where to plug my hair straighteners in, kinda scares me. And I know I sound kinda high maintenance right now, but I am a city girl used to all modern conveniences. 

That being said, I think I would throw caution to the wind for three months (and provided money was no object) hop off on a little tour. Places on my travel list would be: China, New Zealand, India, Italy, Hungary, Germany, Norway and Scotland. And I am not sure I could fit them all into three months but hey! Maybe we could stop time for a while huh.

Great Wall of China, China

New Zealand

India

Positano, Italy

Budapest, Hungary

Koln, Germany

Norway

Isle of Skye, Scotland