Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I'm on the eight season of Greys Anatomy.
I practically waited four months for it to start. In fact, I started waiting for it the minute the last season came to a close (stating the obvious). I was six days too late for the first episode (broke my heart), computer glitch you see. Anyway, I just watched it. I swear I didn't cry for the first 70 something minutes. And I was so proud of myself, because let's face it, I can almost count the number of episodes I haven't cried for. On one hand, I'd like to add. And then it all took a turn for the worse and before long, I was biting my lip while the tears rolled down. There was also a lot of sniffing on my right (the little sister) combined with my own occasional slightly-too-loud sobs. Oh, how I've missed you Greys! Eight seasons and you never get old.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I've talked about Elizabeth Gilbert quite a bit in my previous posts, so by now, you must have a fair idea how much I love her writing.

'The problem, simply put, is that we cannot choose everything simultaneously. So we live in danger of becoming paralyzed by indecision, terrified that every choice might be the wrong choice. Equally disquieting are the times when we do make a choice, only to later feel as though we have murdered some other aspect of our being by settling on one single concrete decision. By choosing Door Number Three, we fear we have killed off a different- but equally critical- piece of our soul that could only have been made manifest by walking through Door Number One or Door Number Two.
The philosopher Odo Marquard has noted a correlation in the German language between the word zwei, which means "two", and the word zweifel, which means "doubt"- suggesting that two of anything brings the automatic possibility of uncertainty to our lives. Now imagine a life in which every day a person is presented with not two or even three but dozens of choices, even with all its advantages, a neurosis- generating machine of the highest order. In a world of such abundant possibility, many of us simply go limp from indecision. Or we derail our life's journey again and again, backing up to try the doors we neglected on the first round, desperate to get it right this time. Or we become compulsive comparers- always measuring our lives against some other person's life, secretly wondering if we should have taken her path instead. '

-Committed (all you married/soon to be married folk must read it).

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I don't really have a refined way to put this, so I'm going to come right out with it: my head is going to FUCKING explode. Yes, EXPLODE.

Why, you ask?
To start with, three words, Food Porn Daily. This website, besides being  food lovers paradise, is absolute torture. Picture Fudgy double Chocolate Brownies dipped in rich Chocolate Ganache or Cheesecake with Peanut-butter mousse, Oreo crust and warm Peanut butter glaze or maybe, Smores pie with uttery Graham Cracker crust, Rich Chocolate Custard and Toasted Marshmallows drizzled with warm Chocolate Sauce. Yes, I'm fully aware I can just paste the links here and have you cry while you clutch your monitor, however, I'm not that horrible. Why have these enthralling visuals burn holes in your retina as well, right? Anyway, my point is that it's not fair. The colour, the way it's presented, the way it looks so ready-to-eat, even the name for crying out loud, drives me crazy. Especially when you're a pure-food-loving-breed, like me. And the very worst bit is not the ostentatiously exhibited food, it's the fact that once you open that darn website, you just CANNOT bring yourself to close it
As if that is not enough, there is Master Chef Australia every night at 9. And Nigella's Kitchen. And another one hundred similar shows that make sure you never escape what you're missing. It's downright agonizing if you ask me. 
And yet, with fifteen minutes left, I'm nearing the end of this post because guess what's on next? Master Chef Australia. So really, this whole venting thing I have going on? Don't fall for it. Because it's all my fault. 

Friday, September 2, 2011

Life catches up with you so quickly, it's amazing.

Seems like just yesterday that I was cribbing about wanting to be 20, wanting to have a boyfriend I could introduce to my parents, wanting to graduate and start working, wanting to travel the world. And now, it's all here (well almost). I'm 20 and feeling old. Responsibility is looming and I can't ignore it anymore. I'm graduating in 7 months and haven't figured out what I want to do yet (yes, still). The boyfriend bit happened too, before you ask. Makes me smile rather stupidly. Coming to travelling the world, well, that bit begins after college and hopefully continues until I'm too old to walk in my own house, forget getting on a plane. I'm hoping that my journeying starts with South Africa (as planned) where my dream of working with big cats will be fulfilled. And after that, well, where ever the wind takes me, I suppose. It's all so exciting and yet so scary. The prospect that, in eight months, you're expected to stand on your own feet and leave that sense of security your home gives you. I'm keen to explore what the world has to offer and yet I feel like I'm stalling on purpose, wherein making a decision about my career is concerned. Because in some stupid way, once that's decided, it's real. 
For some reason I've always been afraid of finality; afraid to let go of all my other options; afraid that I'll be sucked into the monotony of it all. It's a fear that envelops everything I do. And it needs to stop. Especially now. Because if I get one thing and I'm constantly thinking of another, what's the point of it right? So, starting today, I'm going to make a conscious effort to be content and know that what I have going for me is probably what I really want.