Beauty of the day

Paris is always a good idea!

Memories

My memories begin when I was 3 years old. I was living at my grandparents and I was pretending I knew how to read when the neighbors visited us. At 4 years old I got all upset with my grandpa 'cuz he ruined one of my masterpieces, a girl with no shoes that I drew on a cold winter day. He wanted to add the shoes and I went emo. I guess I wasn’t really a “shoes girl” and that stuck with me ‘til today.

At 5 years old I fell. And apparently not only tall people fall hard, little ones do it too. I broke my head and my forehead met some stitches. At 6 years old I refused going to the kindergarten, I broke down (I’m a special girl) and my parents took me to my grandparents’, once again.

At 7 years old I started going to school and I discovered I’m smart and pretty and people like me.

At 8 years old I finished 1^st grade and I was the only one not finishing with a perfect 10. I had a 9.95 because of a 9 grade at math. my mathophobia followed me til our days.

At 9 years old – I  don’t remember. At 10 years old I slipped and I fell in front of the class. No one laughed, they were all worried and came to see if I was ok.

At 11 years old I was passing my first serious test for the silly French class. I refuse to remember 12-13 years old.

At 14 years old I discovered I had scoliosis and went through a rather traumatic experience with the scoliosis braces.

At 15 years old I started high school and I discovered  I’m not all that smart or that pretty. It’s all about different standards.

At 16 years old I had my first kiss. With a blond boy with blue eyes. Who – I suspect – stole my wallet.

At 17 years old I had my first “official” boyfriend.

At 18 I started being pretty again. And other things. Yay for me!

At 19 I met him. 

After that, a whole different story began. And we're still living happily. Ever after.

Beauty of the day

Today, beautiful summer feelings <3               
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Miss. I miss

I miss passing an exam at uni. Ok, there’s a lot of stress and anxiety and you’re nervous and you think you’ll fail and whatnot, but the sensation before, during and especially after an exam and is quite unique and I miss that.

I miss my uni friends, the time we spent together, the laughter, the  emoness, the “hanging out after classes”, the “going out in weekends” and so on. They were great people and, even though we still speak or meet occasionally, I have to get used to the fact that things changed and they won’t be the same ever again.

I miss having time for myself, for my little guilty pleasures, I miss being able to stay up all night, going to bed at sunrise and talking to different wonderful people that I will probably never meet in real life, waking up at 3 pm and just being lazy around, knowing I can do anything because I have no restrictions.

I miss my sister. It’s been a while since she moved out but things seem to have changed, I guess it’s always hard to deal with that.

I miss playing WoW like I used to, talking to my friends, spending my time watching a new TV series or attempting to find a new hobby, I miss having the time to do a LOTR marathon without worrying that I have to wake up early.

I miss going shopping on my own or just out to discover new places; I miss feeling appreciated and loved, I miss Alex, I miss having the perfect summer with him, planning our holiday, traveling together and just forget about everything else.

I miss my old self.

-L.

Beauty of the day

Today, beauty on so many levels.
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Dear 14 years old me ..

          ..  Please stop being retarded. Your colleagues are stupid kids that you’ll never meet again and who will, most likely, experience major failures in any important aspect of their lives. So stop caring about what they say.

      Wear those braces ‘cuz shiny perfect teeth later, nomnom. And no, ofc boobs aren’t important. Especially 14 years old boobs, no one cares about them. So stop obsessing about that.

Also, don't lose your confidence. Remember you are head of your class because you are smart and because your teachers have seen the potential you have. So there's no reason to turn into a shy, non-confident girl who will later become socially awkward.
Do yourself a favor and don't tell those ugly guys that you like them, they are really stupid and they're not gonna make a difference in your life. You'll forget their names on your way from childhood to real life.
Don't be afraid to read a text in front of your classmates, you won't mess it up. You might mess up the math problem though but don't worry, sometimes it's ok to mess up on things you don't really care about.
Remember, you're smart and pretty. Don't let anyone else tell you differently, they are all wrong.

Sincerely,
25 years old you

We all know by now that kids are mean and stupid. They will laugh at you and make fun of you in the cruelest possible way, no matter what you do. They'll make fun of your name, finding silly rhymes that most of the time don't make any sense. They'll laugh at your clothes, at your size, at your glasses or braces. They will laugh at anything. Because that's what kids do ( I recently realized there's lots of "mature" people doing the same thing - another post will be dedicated to this). 

My first 4 years of school were ok, I'm not gonna lie. 7-10 or 11 years old is simply children fooling around. I was the smartest in my classroom so our teacher kindly introduced us to the wonder of hierarchy by promoting me to some sort of head of the class – I was responsible for kids to be quiet when the teacher left the class, I was checking to see if they wrote their homework and things like that.
Like any respectable kid in this situation, I soon got drunk with power and I turned into some fascist mini-leader, yelling (occasionally) and patronizing the other kids. Of course, some of them hated me. But I had my group of supporters, just like any leader.  Now that I think of it, I think I enjoyed school ‘til the 5^th grade. That’s when the shitty part started.

My teacher and the French tutor thought I was smarter than the kids in my class and that I had a natural talent for French – therefore I had to go to some special advanced French class. That meant passing a French test in order to transfer to the best classroom in my school. It also meant changing colleagues and, more importantly, losing my authority. Of course, just like any normal kid would do, I did my best to fail the French test so I could keep my old position during the 5^th grade. For some reason it didn't work though – somehow I managed to pass the test and I got transferred into the new class. 

Which turned out to be shit. At first, because no more power. And then because boobs; or chicks with boobs.

I think 5^th grade is when my socially awkward phase started.  I had to make new friends – and we all know how hard that actually is, especially when your options are limited and you get to pick from silly 11 years old. The new class already had its leader: some girl that was pretty much like me - evidently, less cool. She wasn’t a problem though – I tactfully assumed the leader position once again (ok, we might’ve shared it for a while), I got to check kids’ homework and all seemed to be going according to my master plan.

Except it didn’t.

 - to be continued -

L. 

Beauty of the day

I declare Friday the "Beauty of the day" day - I will post something that I consider beautiful, whether it's fluffly cats or places or people or quotes. Maybe I'll just do it every day, 'cause there's so much beauty around.

Today - Frida Gustavsson.

I think the picture speaks for itself. Beauty - she's it.

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If the world ended tonight

If the world ended tonight, I would stay in my room. I would spend the afternoon thinking about those persons who made a difference in my life, listening to the songs that always made me remember funny or sad or nice things, eating yogurt with cornflakes or maybe just some pancakes that I wouldn’t bake myself ‘cause I still don’t know how to and I doubt I have time to learn until tonight. I wouldn’t think of primary school, because I hated it. I wouldn’t think of beginnings – I always hate those. I would think about the ends – end of school, of highschool, of uni, of MA, of my first job. I would think of all the money I spent on clothes and cosmetics and how I saved a special perfume for a special occasion, just because I’ve splurged on it. Maybe I’d wear it tonight. Along with my YSL mascara and my Chanel lipstick. I’d like to be pretty when the world comes to an end.

If the world ended tonight, I would go on Facebook and Twitter and see what other people think or do. Or simply how they feel about it. I think I will find someone who’ll enjoy  it. I reckon most people would feel sad. I know I’d feel disappointed. And maybe a bit melancholic.

Then, I would turn off my pc, for the last time and get annoyed that Windows wants to update right now. I would, maybe, think that I should’ve bought a Mac. Silly overpriced Apple. I would then think of hipsters. And I’d giggle or even laugh, mentally saying “are you seriously thinking about hipsters now!?”. Or maybe I’d just say it out loud.

 If the world ended tonight, I wouldn’t call anyone. I don’t like phoning people, I like texting, everyone knows I hate being on the phone for more than 2 mins. I like to think I’d get a few calls. Maybe some friends saying “hey, I’m glad I had the chance to meet you”. Maybe an old acquaintance telling me “hey, you know, you did make a difference in my life”. That would make me happy.

And then I’d go outside. I’m sure there’d be plenty of people on the streets. There always are, we all go there when something happens: fireworks, earthquake, car crash, anything. People would be loud, some of them would cry. I would walk. Slowly, because I always walk like that. Maybe I’d do things I’ve never had the guts to do, like hugging a few random persons. I would smile – I’m usually the stranger that smiles at other people. And I don’t even have a perfect smile.

I’d watch the sky and I’d feel sorry I haven’t watched it more often. I would touch some trees and be happy, cuz they most likely got to live more than me.

And then I’d run. I hate running but it gives some sort of unique feeling – I’m not sure I can think of anything that comes close to the sensation you get when you run. I would run slowly, I’m not fast at all – but it would seem so fast for me. I’d run ‘til I’d be out of breath and until my hair would be straight behind me. And then I’d stop, sit on the sidewalk and run my fingers through my  tangled hair and thinking to myself “my God, girls shouldn’t run with their hair down”. And then I’d just stand there, watching the sky again.

After that I’d go home. I’d like to be with my family when the world ends. Just like my family was with me when the world started.

Then we’d all lay down. Or maybe lie down. If the world ended tonight, I would think of all those things I’ve wanted to learn, but never managed to (lay/lie spelling, Russian, swimming, riding a bike). But I’d also think of the things I’ve learned.

The world isn’t ending tonight. But if it did, I would like to have the chance to be happy.  And I like to think I'm doing my best to achieve that.
-L.

Foam of the Daze..

.. or how to put things in perspective. For good.
From my experience, most people don't really appreciate what they have or who they are. We think of ourselves as either too skinny or too fat, too tall or too short etc. We rarely take the time to be thankful if we're healthy, happy or lucky enough to have a great family or friends. It's in the human nature to always strive for more - nowadays we just seem to forget the things that really matter and we're bathing in the pool of superficiality, minding our own shallow thoughts.
Sometimes it takes a huge slap in the face to get back to reality - and I don't wanna go into this 'cause we've all had ours. But other times, it takes less - a good chat with someone, a good movie or, in this case, a good book.
That's right, I managed to put things in perspective after reading what can be considered, in my opinion, one of the best book ever written.

As you might've figured out, I'm talking about Boris Vian's "Foam of the Daze". I'm not sure about the English title, the original title is "L’Écume des jours" - in English I've found it as "Foam of the Daze", "Froth of the Daydream" and there might be more, I haven't done my research properly.

Now I'm not gonna start telling you what's it about, you can easily find that on the interwebs. However, I strongly recommend reading it - no matter what sort of literature you're usually into, I'm sure this will make a great read.

What striked me mostly was its ability to make me feel sad. I read quite a lot of books but it doesn't often happen to get such feelings - I was depressed for like 1 week after finishing it and throughout the reading I was happy or sad or in pain along with the characters. It was the first book that made me shed a few tears - and I'm the type of person who didn't cry while watching "The Notebook" or whatever, so yea, it did come as a big surprise. 

It made me realize how lucky I am for being healthy (yes, I do have some issues but nothing that's gonna kill me), for having found the love of my life, for my great friends and my great family.  Maybe the most important lesson would be this: no matter what problems you have, just learn how to live with them. You know what they say, if they won't kill you, they'll definitely make you stronger.

- L.