Valentine Time

Today, I have been rosy.

I love the idea of Valentine's Day.

Personally, I find Valentines is only really fun if you are single or perhaps in a fairly recently established relationship, because there’s always that little beacon of hope that allows for a real surprise, however unlikely the case may be. If you’re attached, there comes the burden of expectation and if you’re single, it’s not as if you forget that fact on every day that isn’t Valentines day…

However, if you're single, you don't need to be worried about expecting a card or a gift or an elaborate demonstration of eternal devotion. So, if you do receive something out of the blue, it's a pleasant surprise, and you're not left wishing a certain someone had made more on an effort on this single day that everyone hails as the one to show your love.

Despite the "it's only one day of many" sentiment, I do still think it has a place. Valentine's is a valid excuse to tell the people you treasure most how much you care about them. These may be partners, friends, or family. Or may be what I see as the "proper" reason for Valentine's day - the person you secretly admire. Because isn't it quite wonderfully flattering to find someone is thinking of you? It's troublesome territory, it's true. Maybe the object of your affection doesn't return your feelings, maybe it's been long since you could or did have a chance with them, maybe there's someone else in the picture that makes the whole situation rather awkward or maybe it wouldn't work due to circumstances beyond your control. But Valentine's day is the day where you can overcome that. Even if you can't say or do everything you want to, you can let them know, somehow.

So do it. It doesn't have to be romantic inclination, necessarily. It could be a friend you've lost touch with, or someone you care about and sometimes miss. It could be someone you know you have no chance with, but you want to let them know that they gave you something special. To let someone know that you're thinking of them, and this comes again 'round to the fact that you're not thinking of them because it's Valentine's day, but because you would think of them anyway, and Valentine's somehow allows for a legitimate window to say the things you mightn't usually say. Some people say that takes away from the idea of it being "for the one you love" but I say, it's whatever you want it to be. What's wrong with saying Happy Valentine's Day? It's nice.

And perhaps, if you are the recepient of such a sentiment, accept it graciously. Even if it scares you, even if you never expected it from that person, even if you have no desire to return the favour. It takes some courage to tell a person that you like them, that you want them, that you miss them. You're laying your heart on the line and being vunerable can be terrifying. Plus, rejection stings. But, you know, sometimes it's worth putting yourself out there, risking the opportunity that something more may come of it. And if it isn't reciprocated or appreciated? It's a shame, but you'll get over it. It's better to have tried than to have never known.

So hey, why not embrace Valentine's day. Who will you be telling?

Flitterbox: Ellie Goulding ~ How Long Will I Love You

Merry Janewary

Today, I have welcomed in the new year.

I'm a sucker for marking an arbitrary point to make a fresh start. I searched for new year's resolutions and picked what I liked from the web. It's just suggestions, I don't make commitments until the end of the year, when I look back and pick out my achievements and pretend I intended to do that all along.

My internet share aim for the year is 52 books in 52 weeks. I liked the idea of this last year, but I didn't measure or monitor it so I don't have much of an idea of how many I actually read and I didn't make the active effort. Now I have a spreadsheet and everything, so I'm totally dedicated.

First up is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. I own several of his books but have yet to read any, so here we go.

Flitterbox: The Mamas & The Papas ~ Dream a Litttle Dream of Me
Flitterbook: Neverwhere ~ Neil Gaiman

Stoptober Start

September was supposed to be the start. When plans are made and followed through and it somehow just happens and all falls into place and by October you're sitting smugly in the knowledge that you succeeded at September with its fresh routines and promise of a better beginning.

Well, somehow, September flashed by in a blink of an eye. It's now October and we are nine twelfths of the way through the year, or three quarters, put simply. Seventy-five percent. I could do it as days but that would be a messy fraction and I like neatness, even if it is sometimes not strictly correct. Having said that, this is coming from the girl who once worked out her half-birthday to the hour (somewhere near 10th November, give or take half a day, should you wish to send me a card to mark the occasion).

So now, it's October. Stoptober, for the smokers. Sober October, for the fundraisers. Both of these campaigns have got me thinking about what I should or would or could stop for October. Or at least, start to stop in October with the view to making it a permanent change. It takes six weeks to change a habit, or about forty days, which translates to around half a dozen years for those of you that fail at willpower, excel in procrastination and are masters at art of giving in to temptation. 

I have many habits I should perhaps try to change, behaviours I need to modify but try to change too much at once and you get nowhere. I am just going to try to follow the three simple steps for a healthy living: eat less, move more, sleep well. This essentially translates to:

Stop snacking in-between meals

Stop sitting down for long times

Stop staying up for late nights

Of course, these are vague and largely immeasurable, which is not ideal when making resolutions. They should always been strictly defined and make it easy to mark the achievement and enable you to feel like you have made progress. Whoops. To be honest, I don't really think I'll follow the food one; I prefer grazing throughout the day. It's mainly because I like alliteration and it fits. As for sitting down, that's condemning the generally sedentary lifestyle of mine. I sit at a desk all day and then I sit some more in the evening. I should get up more often...perhaps to go and get a snack? Apart from, of course, when it is sleeping time. Then I shall stop screen-staring so much (another stop to focus on, one which is ludicrously difficult in this era; even my book is a screen) and go to bed at a sensible hour and therefore wake well-rested and ready for a day of not too much sitting and not too much screen-staring. 

So there you have it, some stops to start off. Any other suitable suggestions? I do have a few others but it's best not get into those right now, as it is almost midnight in Azerbaijan and I should be switching off. 

Flitterbox: Ellie Goulding - Anything Could Happen
Flitterbook: Please Ignore Vera Dietz - A.S. King

Job Sobs

Admittedly, I haven't gone to extensive efforts to find myself alternative employment.

That aside, I do think there are other factors to consider, here. For one, the job market itself. Whether that's graduate entry or other work, there simply aren't enough jobs for the people who need them. A few years or so ago, most people who wanted a job could get one and intelligent students graduating in numerate degrees from prestigious universities? Why, they would have their choice of job offers. Employers would be begging to have them.  This is what I've heard, at least, I honestly have little concept of what it was like pre-recession, as I was neither old nor economically aware enough to know what it was like for people graduating from university. 

University is just what people like me do. You are clever, therefore you will go to university. There is no question about it and I'm not saying it's a bad thing, it's just the obvious path. There is no choice, no consideration for other options and even if there were, most would end up going to university anyway. I mean, why wouldn't you? 

Then, after graduating, you get 'a job'. This job could be anything, I mean, the world is your oyster. But you've never properly worked before, so how do you know what your job should be? So you follow the words of the people you know best. Often, this means your parents and it's hardly surprising that so many people end up in similar roles within the family - doctors, lawyers, teachers - because you know no better, really. Even if your dad was never at home in time for dinner, or your mum comes in, exhausted and wondering why she's in the job she's in. Aside from your teachers, lecturers, academics etc, your parents are really the only access you have to career paths before you have to figure out your own.

I don't know if or how it could be improved; I don't know whether people would benefit from being more aware of what's out there and who's doing it, or if you get to a certain age where it's kind of expected that you go forth and work this out for yourself. You find out what it means to be an actuary or a patent attorney, you discover more jobs than just those you hear about on the television or encounter in your daily life. You find out what exactly the umbrella terms 'business' or 'finance' could actually involve. You go and do it because you're old enough to sort out your own life.

Flitterbox: Greenday - Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)

Vingt-Cinq

Today, I turned twenty-five.

This blog spot was first titled Turning Twenteen. How long ago was that!? Crazy. 

I find birthdays somewhat stressful, so I prefer that people are less likely to make a fuss as you get older, it's kind of a relief. It is the third consecutive birthday that I have not had summer exams and that still makes me mildly gleeful. Imagine! People are studying, while I casually eat a full grilled breakfast with old friends, followed by a leisurely coffee and chat. I am my own person, I pay my own way and I can choose how to spend my day. How very splendid and grown-up is that? How cool is it to be able to go away on holiday abroad with your friends? How awesome is it to be able to stay up late and go out when you want and drink alcohol and drive places and visit people and earn money? So the responsibility of being an adult sucks sometimes, but some parts are kind of ace, really. 

The prologue of Paper Aeroplanes mentions nostalgia of going over teenage diaries, and how she wishes she hadn't stopped writing in hers at the age of 16. Sometimes I think that about my blog. I really like being able to click back in time to my mood on a given month of years gone by. Sadly, there's been less material available more recently and while I'd love to say something slightly smug about being too busy to blog, or that I'm out living my life rather than writing about my thoughts, it wouldn't be true. I also am aware that many of the blogs I used to visit are also not really updated anymore and people probably aren't coming by here all that often either and I don't blame you for that since I don't really know what I'm supposed to write about these days and without the entries to read in return, it's difficult to find the motivation. That, and I'm kind of concerned about my blog becoming a therapeutic tool, rather than offering anything useful to the world wide web. In itself, that isn't the worst thing, but I'm not sure repetitive introspection is necessarily a good idea. 

Then I just get all concerned about having not written anything in a while and decide what seemed like a good way to start a sentence ends up with a few paragraphs that haven't really said much new. But it's my birthday and I can't not blog about that! A whole year older, weird. I feel like I'm stagnating slightly, my twenty-fifth year has had it moments and like I said, being a grown-up is kind of cool sometimes and also sometimes really confusing and hard. 

Someone tell me what to do with myself? Literally, any serious suggestions are honestly welcome. Answers  in the comment box below. Cheers! 

Flitterbox: 4 Non Blondes - What's Up
Flitterbook: Paper Aeroplanes - Dawn O'Porter - still a teenager at heart.

Two Hands

On one hand, my nails are perfect and the skin unblemished. On the other hand, I am covered in scratches and chipped polish.

On one hand, my job is not the worst in the world. I work autonomously; I get paid regularly. I do not work above my contracted hours and I do not think about work outside of those. On the other hand, I need a new job; a challenge; a chance of progression; a stretch of my skills, before I get too comfortable and unable to branch out. 

On one hand, a relationship is a whole lot of effort and expectation that I can't be dealing with right now. It's not something I want; it's not something I'm looking for. On the other hand, it is quite nice to have another hand to hold.

On one hand, I must try harder. On the other hand, I can't quite muster the motivation to do so. 

Flitterbox: Laura Marling ~ Goodbye England (Covered in Snow)

Catching Trains

I...I have to go

Push me away, then. 

A spark tingled my stomach. The gut feeling lasted a mere second before brain thoughts took over. What does this mean? This is stupid. We can't. We just can't. I don't want this, not like this. And I'm going to be late for my train.

Damn you. You can't do this just as I'm about to leave; what the hell, man. We had a pleasant afternoon. Nice. Lovely, in fact. But it wouldn't set the world alight and I knew that coffee and cake does not equate to a date and he's explicitly stated that he's not doing the distance thing, again. So flirting was minimal, from him, that is - I can't seem to help myself, however inappropriate the situation - and when we walk up to the station, I'm kind of sad and he's kind of polite and detached. Nice, pleasant and distant, as ever. Nothing more. Until...

 I can't.

I can't do this. I can't pretend that this is all okay. After the day we've had I'm not even sure it's there. But then one touch sends me into shivers and somersaults? He lightly circles my palm with his finger and oh gosh, I melt as easily as cheese on toast. In the freezing cold of mid-winter, a furnace is burning inside my body; pumping electricity around my veins. And I'm going to be late for my train.

 I..I have togo. I have to leave. I can't stay. I can't stay and slip inside a cosy coat and become intertwined with another body. I just can't and a part of me thinks he's doing this purely to spite me, to prove his point. To show that if we get any deeper into this thing, the feeling will just get worse, every time I have to leave. To demonstrate that distance is a real deal-breaker, not something that you can just forget about because the rest might fit.

I pass through the barriers and he doesn't even smile at me as I leave: detached, distant, done.

Gone. I turn away and bite the inside of my cheek to stem the tears.

I can't.

Flitterbox: Red Hot Chili Peppers ~ Scar Tissue
Flitterbook: The Language of Flowers ~ Vanessa Diffenbaugh