I'm sure someday I'll laugh about this, just not today

It’s December 31 2010, and I have the stomach flu. Prognosis: 12 midnight, a kiss from my toilet. They say the way you spend New Year’s Eve is indicative of the rest of your year, I sincerely hope not.

I flew all the way from Toronto to Rome and then Rome to Athens so that I could have a fabulous New Year’s Eve. However I have just spent the entire night simultaneously vomiting into a bag while sitting on the toilet (TMI??). If that wasn’t bad enough, my bed is uncomfortable, and my room is cold. Additionally I came back to an empty fridge and a list of chores longer than my last name. Today is an ode to my luck.

All this could have been avoided if I was cautious, but of course I’m not, and so instead of having a stable 2011, I am doomed.

And why is it that I can only put pen to paper (figuratively of course because all I do is finger to keyboard) when I’m most destitute? How about those thousands of days where I was on a happy high? What about my successes? Why is it that I can only write about my failures? If my life were to be archived and history students to study me 1000 years later, what odd conclusions they would come to. A plethora of vacation pictures where I’m too happy and a myriad of prose about destitution. A paradoxical girl some might think, others would blame depression and alcohol, and only a few would come to know the truth; that I’ve stupidly gone looking for adventure because I was bored of being so comfortable. But what I failed to put into the equation is that sometimes what you seek to find, can’t be found, not even with a magnifying glass.   

NEVER use the word HATE!

"Never say NEVER"

"HATE is a strong word"

Really who makes these 'rules' up?
Where do they live? --------------Not in Athens that's for sure.

I decided to compile a list of things I HATE...actually I'll take it a step further and say LOATHE! It would be fabulous if I NEVER had to endure any of them again.

Pigeons:     
Actually most birds and almost anything that has wings but especially pigeons. They come way too close, have red eyes and make a very annoying-creepy sound.

Waking up early:
Getting out of bed in general with an alarm clock.

The wind:
It's spastic...and interferes with everything from my hair to a boat's ability to travel.

The rain.....with the exception of it raining on  a Sunday morning when I'm sleeping.

Any kind of repetitive annoying sound:
Par example 'komboloi'

The hours which banks operate:

Apparently these lists increase in size proportionately to one's age.
Frequent updates ahead.

I can't write anymore because I must sleep now, but before I go to bed I have to remember to set my alarm. However in the event that I forget, the sounds of lingering pigeons will surely wake me. The forecast calls for a wind with showers. And I'm almost certain that when I rush to the bank tomorrow there will be an old man with a 'komboloi' in front of me ......
c'est la vie.

How tight is your knot?

Everyone has a knot, be it in their stomach, their brain or their heart.

The location of your knot can depend on various factors; there is the heated cliché debate of nature versus nurture, but I’m almost certain, it’s nurture!

According to the location of this knot, and of course personal limitations and circumstances your knot can have varying degrees of strength.

A lose knot is equated with a free spirit, and a tight one an anal retentive.....of course there are many degrees in between, but who wants to discuss banal-medium=half way-run of the mill folks when there are extremes?

Extremes are always more interesting, and they say blondes have more fun....little do ‘they’ know.

An extremely tight knot has desires that go unfulfilled, however they are always well prepared for any weather. They ALWAYS try to enforce their ‘rules’ on others, and fit them into their perfectly cut box. What they cannot comprehend is that not everyone has the measurements to fit into their box. It can be asphyxiating to be shoved into a perfectly cut square when you’re a triangle. They’ve obviously missed a geometry lesson or two. Perhaps they were busy planning their life.

Then there are the lose-goose knots. The knot without a care, living for the moment, enjoying life, often at the expense of others, perhaps unbeknownst to them and sometime knownst. Nothing has been set aside for a rainy day, and they are especially susceptible to puddles, but they don’t care, unless there is the threat of drowning, in which case they seek the assistance of a tighty. This tighty knows that the moment will come, they angrily wait for it to occur and take great pride when it does. They once again take the triangle and put them into their perfectly cut square. It hurts, but pain is more tolerable than drowning. Or is it?

Can the two live in harmony? NO!

Can one live without the other? NO!

So what can be done? NOthing, that’s life’s little joke....

Not all jokes are meant to be funny-

Careful what you wish for

I’ve heard the cliché a myriad of times, always slyly thinking it was lame. Never quite understanding its essence because, frankly there was no need. My wishes never came true.

And then one day.....actually it was today:

I had a wish and it came true.

And now I’m re-thinking it.

Truly the manager of the wish factory has an odd sense of humour.

For I was only granted ¾ of my wish, not the full 100% I had ‘wished’ for. And that other part, the ¼ part which didn’t belong in the blueprint of my wish, it’s nothing shy of deplorable. My worst nightmare!

How can this be?

Of course we must be careful what we wish for, especially when the wish is laced with a Molotov of nightmares.

And now I’m left to ponder do I really want this wish? Will it be better or worse in 10 days? 100 days? 1000 days?  

Falling stars, wishing wells, birthday candles, does one need the whole gamut, the holy trinity of wishes, in order to get 100% wish accuracy?

Wish I may wish I might, wish upon this star tonight.....

Caution wish ahead!

ifs and buts galore

If only I could understand you, I would write a song.
If only you understood me, you would sing along.

But parallel roads don't cross, and opposite angles never meet.
A dove can't mate with a lion, nor a snake with a parakeet.

If only your actions didn't make me question everything I know.
If only after I talk to you I could just let go.

But instead I stare at a blackberry, and wonder why it doesn't flash red.
A watched pot never boils, thus my hunger can't be fed.

IF we added up every if, and multiplied it by all the buts, Forbes would knock at our door.
BUT ifs are worthless, and buts take a toll, on a life that's worth living, I won't wait anymore.

am I homesick?

WTF is homesick exactly?

In theory it's a psychological ailment where you miss home. You long for those things which were so comforting in the past. Nostalgia ....aaaa the warmth of home.

But why did you leave your home to begin with? Perhaps you were sick of it, maybe it was suffocating you. You had been there, done that, worn the t-shirt and moved on.....but on to what?

What exactly are you leaving from -moving to-looking for?

To do soul searching, you must have a soul.

Are you home-sick or soul-less?

You'll never really know what was missing from the start until you find one of the two.
Or both.

Chicken or the egg?

A chicken omlette perhaps,
none for me, thanks.

Betsey in a plastic bag

Same dress, yes, but dry-cleaned? How I wish it were still dirty.

A little ivory and powder blue coloured Betsey Johnson dress hung smugly in a closet for an entire year. The prettiest and most summery dress had a complex; Why hadn't it been worn?


Finally, a suitable soirée, a wedding on a Greek isle; the quintessential locale for such a dress. 


A little makeup on the bow, beads of sweat surely, and a few drops of alcohol accumulated from the night's festivities were like badges of honour for the dress. The fragrance of men's cologne intertwined with the dress' original YSL scent and blended together to create the sweet smell of summer. 


From car to yacht, white linnen covered chair to beach recliner the dress had been thoroughly worn. 

Alas, no dress can be worn indefinitely. And so it had to be taken off. Off with it came the fun. But the dress kept memories of the night's exploits hidden abreast its fabric for as long as it could. 


Blame the dry-cleaner for summer's end. 

memoirs of a faded tan

If luggage had kilometers, mine would need an oil change:

July:
Toronto- Las Vegas
Las-Vegas- Toronto
Toronto-Athens
Athens-Paris
Paris-Saint Tropez
Saint Tropez- Cannes
Cannes-Monte Carlo
Monte Carlo- Lyon
Lyon- Paris
Paris- Athens

August:
Athens- Syfnos
Syfnos- Paros
Paros- Athens
Athens-Monemvasia
Monemvasia-Elafonisos
Elafonisos-Monemvasia
Monemvasia-Tripolis
Tripolis-Athens
Athens-Lefkada/Preveza
Lefkada/Preveza-Athens

Kilometers logged, tans generated and faded, pictures uploaded, albums created. Giggles, kisses and dancing...the best things in life are free.  Cliché as it may sound, it's true.

Walk a mile in my flipflops, are you receptive enough to experience it? Or too cool to care? Maybe you've been there too, but were you really there? Either way; it doesn't matter, I live for me, for now, for love, for the hell of it.  Be silly, be spoiled, be adventurous, just be. be free...