Celebrating 2013

I started 2013 with a new job. A role that was clearly not something I wanted to pursue long-term, but nonetheless a big step forward for me, so I was thrilled about it! This was the year we got a new car, which greatly improved our lives in terms of commute and on my recent job hunting efforts. It was the year I finally got a gym membership and actually had fun using said gym (when I could get over the dread of walking all the way over there!). It was the year when I finally managed to make edible soup and the first time I went mini golfing. 2013 was the year I learned how to make sock creatures and how to change duvet covers single-handedly. It was the year when I read the most and when I accomplished most of my New Year's resolutions. This was the year when I returned to Paris, this time with the love of my life. 2013 was the year I gradually stopped dressing the same way as when I was at Uni. In 2013 I celebrated three years next to a wonderful man whom I couldn't possibly love more. It was the year when I conquered sun salutations without falling or messing up my breathing. It was a year of constant learning and tweaking. In 2013 I discovered the pleasure of - for the first time in my life - treating myself to lunch in a restaurant and a trip to a bookstore on a regular basis. This was the year when I clearly developed my gaming skills and established board and card games as a solid new love. It was a year of more social activity than 2012. And then there was the perfect ending of getting a brand new job. Something I am looking forward to and that I know is the start of a shinier future.

Sure, there's less positive aspects to this year but I choose not to dwell on these too much. In 2013 I got a big dental scare. I was pushed to extreme limits in my (now old) job. I had months of late shifts that meant not seeing my partner for most of the week, even though we live together. My self-esteem plummeted to new lows. I was unemployed for four months. I barely lost weight. I spend my second Christmas away from my family. In the whole of 2013 I spent less than three weeks in my country. But then there's also all the good things mentioned above. That and the promise of a better 2014. A 2014 full of change and growth. And I can't wait for it all.

Am I where I expected to be by my late twenties? No, not by a mile. However - despite how many setbacks I had to work through in my path - I know change is upon me and I'm ready to embrace it and sprint with it until I catch up, full speed to the next milestone, and the one after that. 2013 was a year of great inner change, of learning and realigning myself. 2014 will be a year of outer change, of doing and achieving and making my future a reality. I am ready. Bring it on!

2013 - The readings

So it's that time of year again when we look back on what this year has meant to us, the good, the back and all the in-betweens. I've decided I'll start with the easy part - the books I've read. Rated from 1 to 5 stars. I know for a fact that I'm the only one that actually enjoys this, anyhoot - for my own pleasure (and your own, I hope) - here it is! (And brace yourselves, because I've been really busy in the reading department!)

1. Les Miserables, Victor Hugo *****
2. The hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien ***
3. The fault in our stars, John Green *****
4. The casual vacancy, J K. Rowling ***
5. A game of thrones, George R. R. Martin *****
6. Cat's cradle, Kurt Vonnegut *****
7. Gone girl, Gillian Flynn ***
8. Coraline, Neil Gaiman *
9. Of mice and men, John Steinbeck ***
10. Equal rites, Terry Pratchett *
11. The newlyweds, Nell Freudenbergen ***
12. To kill a mockingbird, Harper Lee **
13. A relíquia, Eça de Queirós **
14. A clash of kings, George R. R. Martin ****
15. The sense of an ending, Julian Barnes ****
16. A sombra do vento, Carlos Ruiz Zafón **
17. An abundance of Katherines, John Green ***
18. Desamor, O Arrumadinho *
19. Morreste-me José Luis Peixoto ****
20. O amor é fodido, Miguel Esteves Cardoso **
21. As rosas de Atacama, Luis Sepúlveda ***
22. Divergent, Veronica Roth ****
23. Na tua face, Vergílio Ferreira ***
24. Norwegian wood, Haruki Murakami ****
25. O filho de mil homens, Valter Hugo Mãe ***
26. Firmin, Sam Savage ***
27. As intermitências da morte, José Saramago ***
28. The host, Stephenie Meyer ***
29. Sula, Toni Robinson **
30. Talk to the snail, Stephen Clarke ****
31. Insurgent, Veronica Roth ****
32. Allegiant, Veronica Roth ****
33. Sputnik sweetheart, Haruki Murakami ***
34. Ender's game, Orson Scott Card ****
35. Let it snow, Maureen Johnson, John Green & Lauren Myracle ****
36. A storm of swords - Steel and snow, George R. R. Martin ****

The portable TARDIS

For all non-Whovians (non-Doctor Who fans): the TARDIS is the time machine/spacecraft the Doctor uses on his travels. It stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space and basically it gives the screen writers an opportunity to set any episode in any time period or place of their choosing (real or imaginary). The first time I caught it on television was an episode with Agatha Christie, so I didn't recognize it at all because I thought Doctor Who was meant to be strictly sci-fi (at that point there were no aliens or strange creatures in sight). But I digress.

This whole thing is meant to be about books. Yes, books. Because they are the true TARDIS, the real transporters to alternate worlds and times. Anytime, anywhere, you open one and a few sentences in (less if the book/author is really good) you are somewhere else entirely. Not just that, you are someone else. You delve deep into the mind of characters and narrators, sometimes to such an extent that you find yourself with a completely different set of ideals. It happened to me with Gone with the wind; less than half way in and I was shamelessly rooting for the South (which is something I can't say I'd sanely do).

I'm one of those people that wants to know it all. So I will pick up books (most of them fiction) on practically anything. The fall of Troy. The American civil war. The Victorian age. Avalon-related books. Children's classics. Fantasy. Sci-fi. Teen fiction, you name it. And then there's the language. The sweet music of how the words are magically put together. Both in English and Portuguese, some books I pick them up not because I'm interested in the subject-matter, but rather because of how beautifully the phrases flow. Some authors have the gift of turning something bland into a hipnotic read; it's all so pretty you just can't look away and stop yourself from reading just another page. And another. And another.

It's my greatest source of existencial angst to be forced to acknowledge the fact that I will never read all the books I'd like to. And if I do cover all subjects, I will only be scratching the surface. So I'll never really be much of an expert in any kind of genre, because I can't commit to just one! I've never read anything set in Ancient Egypt, or about the fall of the Romanovs, I've never read Murakami (I bought Kafka by the shore in 2006, it's pathetic, I know...) or most of the great classics. If only I could read in my sleep...

Also, dear Whovians and non-Whovians, books are bigger on the inside. Think about it. Think of all the hours you invest in them, all the emotions you go through, all the worlds you get to know and things you get to find out. It's a hurricane-sized turmoil enclosed in just a few square inches of paper. Luckily, after you finish one there's always loads more to follow.

Unless you don't want to finish. In that case, just do as the Doctor does and rip out the last page. Then it never has to end.

The uninspired blogger

I'm a very, very poor blogger. For ages I fantasize about getting a new blog and writing about this and that and then once I do I fall flat on my face. Every since I started this blog all words seem to have cruelly deserted me. And then on the few occasions that I can actually find the words and thoughts everything strikes at once and I am left with a massive jumble of half processed things. And don't even get me started on my thought process (or lack of it). I mean, it should be recorded and donated to science, I tell you! More often than not I start a post, give it a title, type in the first sentences and before I know it I've lead myself somewhere completely different from where I intended to be. So in the few occasions I manage to write something I very seldom hit the "publish" button. Sad, I know. Though it's not like I'm depriving anyone from great prose. Or great thinking, for that matter.

Yes, I think I will always romantise about my writing efforts. Of how I'll just log in and pour my heart and soul and my many, many insightful ideas and theories into the blog. And it will be quirky and funny, and girly and nice and fresh and hip (does anyone still says "hip" anymore?) and inspirational and people will like it and comment and I'll feel like I have a fresh medium through which to express myself and touch other people.

Alas my writing is not as interesting as I'd like it to be. As I am in person. It's sad, but it's life.

Doesn't mean I'll stop trying, though, does it?

Wishlist of big dreams

The Secret fanatics believe that you should have a somewhat specific representation of what you want in life (or so I'm told, I've never actually read the book). A list, a collage of images representing your goals and dreams, anything that will inspire you and remind you what it's all about (for you). So here is my attempt at it! However unrealistic or spoiled it may sound I don't really care, the point is to be honest about what I really want, dream big and inspire me to achieve big!

(List made in no particular order of priorities; I'm really just going with the flow and writing faster than I can think, thinking is bad!)

1. I want a job. Something 9-5, Monday to Friday and with a relatively decent pay. It would also be nice if it was something I wouldn't mind doing, something where my quirkiness could be appreciated and that involved a possible career progression.
2. I want to own a house. Three bedrooms or an attic to be converted into an office with room for a double bed (to encorage both families to stay with us every once in a while), a bathtub (I miss having a nice bath!) and a garden to enjoy the rare sunny days.
3. I want a family life. Get married, have kids, be involved and have quality time together.
4. I want cats! Yes, cats! Two! And preferably not a couple of terrorists who would destroy all our stuff the moment we leave the house (we have a lot of memorabilia...)
5. I want to be fit. Or rather to feel healthy and comfortable with my body. Yoga's not gripping me as I thought it would, but I won't give up just yet! It would be nice for flexibility's sake. Also being able to run 5k and get some of my dancing skills back.
6. I want to travel. See the world, having holidays with the people I love.
7. I want house parties and social outings and meeting up with friends and an excuse to dress up and be girly every once in a while.
8. I want cosy nights in, movie nights and quiz/board games nights.
9. I want to step on the stage once more. Even if it's just to say goodbye.
10. I want to find some peace with myself. To be able to truly love myself and be happy in my own skin and proud of the choices I've made along the way. I want to genuinely stop comparing myself to other people and measuring my life and my achievements based on what other people have (which will be nothing short of a life-long struggle).
11. I want to have an inspirational life. Something like what you read on those self-help books and healthy feel-good magazines. I don't mean to say I want people to be inspired by me, rather I want to inspire myself, I want to channel all my good traits and create good things, be an increasingly better version of myself.

So... shall we begin?

The beach season conundrum

In Portugal from the first days of May up to the last days of September every weekend and day off is potentially a beach day. The sun is out (it almost always is), grab your towel and sunscreen and lets go! And this is the sort of mindset I had, just like everybody else. Not that I did do it though. Truth be told I only went to the beach for two weeks on my family's vacation. And that was heaven enough for me! It was the perfect combination of fresh fish and fruit, loads of ice cream, loads of books, loads of time at the beach, walking everywhere, not a care in the world, no peer pressure (it was really just family) and nothing else. And even though it wasn't always perfect and we did clash, in the end we all had our routine pretty much down. My dad would read half the newspaper, my great-aunt the other half, my aunt would read some huge law book and I would read literature. But I digress.

The thing is for those five-ish months going to the beach was always an option, it was always there. And now it's over a thousand miles away and it pains me more than I'd care to admit. I miss it. The sun, the smell of sunscreen, swimming the the sea, hearing the seagulls, I miss it. And it's not like I can complain much; over in the Midlands we've been blessed with quite a number or hot sunny days this year, and I'm very happy and grateful for that. And then I turn on Facebook and there it is. Dozen and dozens of pictures of old friends at the beach. And at times my heart just wants to go back. (Though weather, food and family aside I'd quite happy here and don't dream of moving back for the foreseeable decades).

So it's up to me to find some sort of balance that leaves me content enough with the whole issue. And I realise that may take a few years (because it's not just me anymore, it's also my boyfriend and both families) but if I can pull it off and find some kind of peace with my new reality, then it'll be worth it.

Easy fixes

So I've been feeling a bit down lately. Sad, lost and with a sense that the only option is to wait until the storm passes, all the while eating chocolate to quell my feelings. And even though this whole thing started off as weather-induced (seriously, two weeks of consistently murky weather will eventually screw with anyone's mind) I now wonder "why am I feeling so miserable?" and "what exactly am I waiting for?" Because when you think of it there is absolutely nothing in my life that cannot be changed (or begin to be changed) if I so wish AND if I have the willpower to see it through.

Worried about my weight? - keep a food journal and cut the sugar intake.

Unhappy with my body? - more trips to the gym and more yoga.

Troubled mind? - write it all out and practice even more yoga, even resort to self-help books if necessary.

Dissatisfied with my job? - start job hunting again.

Feeling lost career-wise? - make a pro/con list and just pick something!

Anything going less well my relationship? - accept that cohabiting with another person comes with the occasional bumps and bruises, smile and talk it all out and listen to the other side. The occasional present helps too!

Falling behind on my reading list? - open a book.

Need some perk me up? - Do some nesting around the house, some gardening or small home improvement projects, get the dresses and nice shoes out of the closet and dress up a little.

And overall just smiling helps a great deal.

And there! I just solved my life, upgraded my whole present existence, in about half a dozen sentences. And I don't even remember what was holding me up in the first place. Why in God's good name was I waiting for a sign or a magical solution to problems that only I could fix? How did I let myself get so caught up in my problems that I didn't even see the solution to all of it was staring me in the face the whole time? This calls for some serious mental changes. Another time though! For now lets just take all the break-through and sleep on it. Really. Bed. Now.

The newlyweds #1

You thought that you were the permanent part of your own experience, the net that held it all together - until you discovered that there were many selves, dissolving into one another so quickly over time that the buildings and trees and even the pavement turned out to have more substance than you did.

Nell Freudenberger

What's in a blog?

When I first started blogging in 2006 I found I had a lot to say. Anything became an excuse to sit down, open blogger and start typing. And it went on like this for a few happy and monogamous years. Then I found Twitter. Overnight my small one-liner posts ceased to be (unless they were over 140 characters). A few months later I opened my Facebook account. That was another blow to my blogging persona. Then Tumblr came along. Soon I had so many options in the world of social media that I struggled to find something to write about on the blog. What was once my one personal window to the web was now just one of many doors.

My life also changed a lot. I'm not the overly-verbal Uni student that would expose her private life on the web for therapeutic purposes. Now I find my private life is not just my own and I have no right to go into detail about something other people might find uncomfortable to share. So it's an old world with new rules!

And what's in the name? Well, just my simple self trying to make it work in a foreign country. For almost two years I've moved out of my dad's into my boyfriend's (now our place) over a thousand miles away from where I lived all my life. And this is what it's all about!

Fresh start

So here I am... again! Ready to give the blogosphere another go! My old dead blog is still around on the web (it felt wrong to delete almost seven years of writing my ramblings) and I wanted to kick start it again but somehow I've been feeling irrevocably disconnected with it for so long that it's been ages since I actually wrote something. The desire was there, I just didn't know how to do it anymore. That place that was so special for so many years suddenly felt like a hindrance to my writing (I say writing like it's anything grand, when in fact I'm another average person typing about nothing much).

So away, any good excuse to start anew, right? And here I am! New chapter, new blog, new me!