Why Mom Was Right About Not Writing Things Down…


My mom wasn’t the most open about many a things when I was growing up. Most things were learnt from friends and my grandma (maternal side who I called Baba). Baba would teach me invaluable things like ‘Washing dishes makes your hands and nails beautiful’ and ‘Don’t sit with your legs up and spread apart while wearing a skirt so everyone can see your underwear’. Of course I can’t forget the one about ‘I must learn to cook because how else will I become a good housewife’. Afterall the key to a man’s heart is through his stomach right? Well, I later found out that washing dishes by hand ruins your nails, and if I wore shorts under my skirt I avoided people seeing my underwear, and I learnt to cook for myself and not because I was going to get married. Anyway, besides all that, being an only child didn’t help my situation either. So growing up wasn’t an easy task to conquer. With my mom’s limited hands-on, in depth talks and my friends telling me wrong things I was a hopeless case. However with that being said my momma did instill one tidbit of information that has stuck with me throughout my  life…And that is to never write anything down that you don’t want others to see. Because if it happened to fall into the wrong hands, it would ruin you.

At the time my momma instilled these words of wisdom to me, I was in the 7th grade and still living in New York. One day I came home from school and my Ma was waiting for me in the living room. I always knew when she was in crouching tiger mode ready to pounce into a lecture with how she said my full name…. “Alexandra….” Which was also said in a stern tone. Oh lord, here we go. “What Ma?!” I was an annoying, impatient kid to her. Now that I’m older I do appreciate the patience she must have had. “I found this note in your room” (she went snooping). “Maaaaaa, why are you going through my STUFF!!!!” Her face showed that she wasn’t having my attitude that day. “I wasn’t snooping, I found it on the floor.” She unfolded the wrinkled note. “I’m going to tell you something Alexandra and do with it what you may. What if this note fell into the wrong hands?” I just looked at her. Inside my brain was working out the damage that it would have actually caused had it really fallen into the wrong hands. And the outcome? Was not a favourable one. “Alexandra, what if your friend kept this and decided after to share it with people?” She starred into my face to see if she was getting through. “What I’m trying to say is, never write anything down that could compromise you as a person. You never want people to not respect you  or to take your words and use them against you.” This made sense to me. I mean it really made sense. But all I said was “Gaaaaaaaaawwwdddd, maaaaaaaaaa, FINE!” And I stormed out the room.

Ever since that day, I never wrote anything that could put me in jeopardy. Nowadays I internally become so thankful that I did not follow those unfortunate folks who had not gotten this piece of advice. The one’s who’s naked photos fall into the hands of jealous ex’s. The one’s that decide to become amateur porn stars and then their significant other leaks the video. The one’s that write mean text messages about others only to have the receiver take a screen shot and post it around. I’m glad I’m not in this group. And I might have been, had my momma never actually said anything.

Now, I’m not trying to preach or act like I’ve never done anything that could compromise me as a person, because I have!  I’ll have you know that I have done a couple of sex videos and taken photos in my underwear. But my boyfriends at the time, were never allowed to keep the videos. I was the only one who had access to them. And as a double precaution, they were kept in password protected files on my computer, or locked away in a drawer. The photos that I would send were never of my face or things that could identify me, like my tattoos for example. They were snippets of skin,lace, straps. I would also never send a full body image of myself. When it came to notes or texts, I wouldn’t write anything important in them. In actuality, the only time to be vigilant about writing everything down is when it comes to business.  That’s when you make sure you get agreements down on paper. A good old hand shaking while verbally agreeing to something does not make for a good idea.

Anyway, the reason I decided to actually listen to my momma was because I found out that people can be mean, vindictive and down right nasty, even in the 7th grade and even despite how nice you were to them. So if they don’t have anything on you, you’re smooth sailing from here on out.

Despite my Ma not being the best at communicating when it came to boys, sex, girl things (like periods) and other vital pieces of information, she was at least forthcoming on one thing. So kudos to you momma for sharing that with me. I have appreciated it every since!

💜💜💜

10 Random Thursday Thoughts…

Thursday Thoughts

My thoughts of the day…

  • People should really listen to classical music more. (I get more writing done and my anxiety is kept at bay)
  • They should bring back I Love Lucy
  • There should be classes on dating
  • Isn’t it about time that we revamped speed-dating?
  • Will we learn to stop hate?
  • Painting nails is therapeutic
  • Love needs to be cherished more
  • Pasta should be revered
  • We should do more analog photography
  • Men and women need to sit down and write a collective book on how to work together better, along with sharing all the secrets of the opposite sex.

❤ ❤ ❤

Love Seemed Much Simpler in My Parents and Grandparents Generation

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Does anyone else feel like things are moving too fast nowadays when it comes to dating, love and relationships in general? Or am I the only one woman island in the middle of nowhere? As I look at my parents and grandparents’ relationships I have come to the conclusion that things have become a little warped. It definitely doesn’t seem so rosy anymore and somewhere along the way there seems to have been more rules put in place to make things even more difficult.

Since when was there a playbook developed of do’s and don’ts in contacting the opposite sexes? We seem to all be floating around not really certain of where we stand anymore. Do we text them or not? Do we make the first move? Should we be swiping 100 times to the right just to make our quota for the day? Because more is obviously better, or so I’ve been told. Where has the commitment gone? Where has the adventure of getting to know someone gone? Are the only two things I have to look forward to in life is superficial dating apps and TV shows where you get naked to see if you’re attracted to them? I mean call me old fashioned but what penis is attractive? And fanny holes? Jeeeeessssuuus help me.

I’m not joking about that TV show by the way. It’s actually called ‘Naked Attraction’. Apparently in the first episode there’s a line of men put in front of a woman and they drop their pants to show off their saggy junk. You don’t see their upper body. Have we become so desensitised as a people that we don’t care anymore.

I look at my parents and think how have they stuck it out. Of course they get into fights. My mom is crazy and my dad is stubborn. But every day when my dad leaves the house he gives my mom a kiss. And then my momma gives him one back. They smile and go about their day. They talk, albeit a lot. But that’s communication. They seem committed to one another; through thick and thin. When times were rough they banded together. They worked at it. They laughed. And according to my mom they still have sex. (I just threw up). They’re in their 70’s and to be honest good for them. I just don’t think my ears have to hear things like that.

My grandparents (maternal side) were together for like 70 years until my grandpa sadly passed away. Those two used to yell at each other so much that I thought they were going to kill one another. I remember being 6 years old in New York when my grandparents came over from Greece to live with us. My grandpa (who I called Dedo) would call my Baba (grandma) stupid (the most mild of them all) and she in turn would insult him right back. However, they loved each other. They stuck it out. Baba was there through Dedo’s battle with Cancer. They kissed, (granted on very rare occasions because they were old fashioned like that) they hugged and they even cooked together. I remember them making kielbasa (type of spicy sausage) in the kitchen while singing old Macedonian songs in their house in Northern Greece. As I remember these things, trying to figure out where we all went wrong, I realised that they did not grow up with the same amount of choice that we have now. Their world was a lot smaller. They met people in person; when neighbours still talked to one another. My grandparents went to the same elementary school and got married in their teens. My parents met at a Greek church while they both happened to be studying at Ohio Wesleyan University and literally after 9-10 months my dad asked for her hand in marriage. They tied the knot in December 1968. You do the math.

Love did seem simpler then. Less choice and no internet I imagine. Previous generations didn’t have unlimited access to porn. They didn’t have the option to look at pictures online and jerk-off. Or swipe quickly through hundreds of photos in the hopes that they bettered their odds in the return. There was no Facebook, or Instagram or match.com. There was nothing. So they were able to walk up to a person and start a decent and genuine conversation. They were able to smile longingly at one another and were able to really get to know each other. And finally, they actually wanted to get married. I know right, what a weird concept. By the way I’m not saying that everyone should be married. In fact I do think it’s just a piece of paper at the end of the day. What’s important and what I’m implying is the commitment part. The working together part. The being together through happy and sad times part.

I’m tired of today’s society when it comes to love. I’m tired that men and women take things like relationships for granted. That they never fully commit because they always think something better will come along. Why? Because there’s just too much choice. People date, start relationships and still flick through Tinder, Badoo and whatever else in the hopes of finding someone better. Someone that will love them the way that they want to be loved without any compromise. Someone that will do everything. Well here’s a thought. What about communicating? Meeting in the middle? Working at something with every fibre of your being? How about, stop taking the easy road. Stop quitting. Just a thought.

I look at both the previous generations and I see an era of fighters. As I look at mine, I see shrugged shoulders and whatever faces. I see women, my friends, yearning for love and always being let down. I see men who don’t know whether they’re coming or going. In general I see a bunch of confused souls happy to live the fast paced life of just judging someone by a photo on their screen. I see a generation that’s decensitised to everything.

What will the future hold for a hopeful old school romantic such as myself? Not much I would suspect. Because I can’t bring myself to go on dating apps. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I just can’t do it. I do better with talking to people in person. You know why? Because that’s the real me. When I’m texting, trying to get to know someone, I over think my answers. I type and delete, delete and type, 300 times before I send something out. I wait in replying because one can’t seem too eager, and then have to wait ages for the other person to respond because we’ve both listened to some invisible handbook of ‘How to court someone in the 21st Century’. However, in person,  you’re the real you. You also get to see the other person’s body language. Their tells. You learn a lot about a person with watching them answer questions or how they react to something you’ve said.

Maybe I’m too much of a hopeless romantic with an over zealous streak of cynicism. Maybe I’ve been hurt on one too many occasions. Maybe I’m not willing to conform to modern day society. Maybe I’ve over romanticised the past. Or maybe I haven’t.

Maybe, maybe maybe…

Anyway, I don’t know guys, maybe I will end up being a spinster for the rest of my life and that’s that. But I do know that I’m not so sure I will get to have what my grandparents had or furthermore what my parents have…

Parents

My Parents

But here’s to hoping that not all is lost.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to succumb to Naked Attraction and watch penises for the next hour. Because that’s what these modern folks are doing nowadays right? Eeehhhh…. right. Off I go.

❤ ❤ ❤

When Your Love Affair With Food Has Come To An End…

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‘Food glorious foooooood!’…. is what I want to sing from the top of my lungs whenever I discuss such a scrumptious topic. I’m not going to lie, I love food. It brings you together with friends, you feel the love that was made with it while sitting around the dinner table with family, and let’s not forget the feelings of euphoria that run wild after you’ve finally satiated your haaanger. I mean, what’s not to love about food! Well, after so many years of having the best love affair of my life, it would seem it has come to an end. At least for the time being. My lover, has betrayed me, and my stomach and gut are now paying the price.

Yesterday was a very lazy Sunday for me and I decided to watch the movie “Chocolat”. However, it wasn’t the best of choices with what I’m going through. While watching it I started drooling at all the mouth-watering deliciousness that was on display. You see my fluffy pandas I was torturing myself. It was a cruel and unusual way to go but I did it nonetheless. I sat there wishing I could have every magical morsel that presented itself on my screen. The funny thing is, I’m not a sweets person. Savoury is my thing. Like lasagna, pesto sauce with penne pasta, Greek dips, roast chicken with all the trimmings, pizza, a Patty & Bun Chicken Burger,  Chilli cheese fries, warm fat pretzels, this Rosemary & potato sourdough bread from Gail’s. I mean I could carry on but I will spare you. Anyway, while watching the movie I seemed to be serenading the TV forcefully, almost as if I were pleading with a long lost ex to take me back. And then I screeched “Why have you cursed me?!” towards the heavens. “WHYYYYYYYY?!!” As I looked back at my screen it was just in time to see Dame Judi Dench seductively sip the silky thick  hot chocolate. Her expression after that was of pure euphoria. The kind you would get after a great orgasm. (Yeah, I went there). There she was, stupid Judi and her stupid happy expression. All I could do was yell “CURSE YOU BAD JOO JOOS! Curse….. you!”  as I raised my fists in the air.

Ok..ok….my melodrama is over. I swear. Oh one last thing… I also watched Julie & Julia. I know, I know! Food movies back to back.

You see, as some of you know, for the past 10 weeks I have not been feeling well. The doctors ran tests and nothing really came up. They said that it could be IBS but they didn’t want to say for sure. The first 4 weeks were the most miserable of my life. I had to take an Uber to and from work just so I wouldn’t have an anxiety attack in an underground tin-can as I shit on myself profusely. There were days where my internal pep talks consisted of… “You can do this. You will not shit your pants. You own your poop, not the other way round! Just go out the front door. Good. Now walk down the stairs. You’re doing it. You see, everything will be fine. Start walking to the bus. You got this Ali! You are one tough cookie. You…. oh shit. RUN! RUN BACK HOME! RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE! CLENCH CLENCH CLENCH!” And then I would slam the door to my apartment, start sobbing and ultimately feel really sorry for myself. This was the cycle. My life… for weeks.

The doctors were not that helpful. They said most of the time they don’t usually refer patients unless the symptoms persist for at least 6 months. A big HELL NO to that one. The only suggestion that they made was for me to go on a Low-FODMAP diet for the next two weeks. And with a shitty little leaflet, that didn’t explain what I should or shouldn’t eat, I left. My heart grew heavy and I decided after my umpteenth visit to the docs to walk into this posh pharmacy and plead with them to give me a miracle. And guess what? They actually did! Their suggestion was a probiotic liquid called Symprove. Within 2 days I felt almost back to normal. At the same time however, I did switch to the Low-FODMAP diet. So both have helped tremendously. But I really think the Symprove was the key. There was one slip up with a spelt grain pasta (which I thought I could have) and had to call in sick the next day. But apart from that I have been feeling at 90%. Which is a drastic improvement. But alas, even despite my positive outcome, with every passing day I start to loath food at little bit more. And that’s because of the diet I’ve been put on.

Here’s what I can have….

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Unfortunately, I had to say ‘see ya later’ to my two favourite ingredients, garlic and onions. How the hell does one cook without these two things?! My breads and pastas, unless they were gluten-free, were out of the question. Avocados and asparagus which I both adore, I can’t have. The list above says I can have 1/4 avocado but others say I shouldn’t. Hence, I leave it out. So, I was stuck with rice and rice cakes. Who the hell likes rice cakes by the way? It’s what I imagine eating cardboard would taste like. Every time I eat one I have to lather it with almond butter but, guess what?! N0w I can’t lather. Therefore, I’m officially screwed. Luckily I can eat plain meat, fish, and chicken so that’s something I guess.

All in all this diet has forced me to rethink how I eat. It’s forced me to look at my meals with a shoulder shrug of whatever. I have no desire anymore when I sit down to eat and that’s the part that’s killing me. I used to love going home after work and making something fun. But the thing that has nudge the dagger in a little deeper is the fact that I can’t bake anymore. I will have to work with Rice/corn flour and buy gluten free baking soda. I mean, woe is me right?!

Don’t worry, I’m not that depressed. But I am disappointed. When it comes to my health I take things very seriously therefore I’m following the Low-Fodmap diet to a tee! I know how important your health is and to always make sure it comes first. But in the process I have lost my love. And my love, has ripped open my heart and filled it with emptiness. I’m onto my third week now and food has never looked so dissatisfying. Yet, I know that I must grin and bear it. I’m not listening to the doctors suggestion of two weeks because everyone else is saying I have to be on this for at least a couple of months. And I like to be thorough. However the thing that’s really driving me? Is not repeating the shits any time soon. I will soldier on even though my permanent expression nowadays is the stank face of misery. I will endure, I will conquer! I sound like I’m going to war don’t I?! Lord I’ve got mental issues. By the way I would like to add that I would prefer coddling myself with two bottles of wine. But you guessed it…. I CAN’T!! Wooooooossssaaaaaahhhhh!

And so with all that being said…. my love affair has ended. The comfort has gone. The desire and passion has disintegrated. And slowly its embrace will be a very distant memory.

This was my ode, my lament to food. Oh how I’ll miss you. You never judged me. You were a soothing reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

Oh woe is me….

❤ ❤ ❤

PS- I will do a dedicated post on the Low-FODMAP diet along with two great books you should buy. Don’t worry, I won’t be complaining in that one! 🙂

I’d Rather be Too Much…

 

What’s being ‘too much’ of something and why is it a hindrance to most people? Is caring too much a problem? To some, yes. Is laughing too much an annoyance? Again to some, yes. And why do people cut you down with the phrase ‘You’re just too much’?

If I had to choose between being too much and too little, I’d rather be too much of something. I’d rather live too much of life. Or smile too much because I’m happy. Or laugh too much because silliness is intoxicating. Or care too much in order to be a selfless human being. Why would anyone want to be ‘too little’ of something? Who in their right mind would want to laugh, smile, care, talk less?

Some may come at you with the phrase, ‘can you [insert whatever ] less’. And do you know what your response should be?  ‘Go fuck yourself’! Yes! And then go be ‘too much’ with others who get it. Because with the right people, you won’t be too much. You will always be just right. Just enough, or more than enough.

Complexity in a human being is intriguing.  I want there to be layers so deep that it will take me decades to burrow to the core. Being complex is to be more. To be too much. And I want the humans around me to be able to offer more. Finding out how they  fear, hope, dream, love, think and so on is to be MORE!

So don’t let anyone tell you, you’re too much of something. Because in truth, the more you are the better. After all, it’s intrigue that fans the flames of wanting to dig deeper in another human being’s soul. And what could be more interesting then challenging yourself to get to know the ‘too much’s’ of someone? Nothing that’s what.

Keep building upon yourself. Keep sharing. Someone will take the time to appreciate you just the way you are. You are a universe of intricately woven mystique. You my dear panda will never be ‘too much’ of anything.

❤ ❤ ❤

A Little Wednesday Wisdom…

Wednesday Wisdom

 

Happy Hump Day my little fluffy pandas! I mean big up to at least getting this far without collapsing in tears as the last drop of wine leaves the bottle. Well done you! I of course can’t say the same thing, but I keep on plodding along the best way I know how… like an alcoholic that’s dead to the world. Okay, okay! In all seriousness I decided to pass along some Wednesday wisdom to help me and you get through life’s awefulness. And what better way to do it than to throw some sparkly, funny gifs at you!  So here we go!

Firstly, don’t forget to…

smile gif

The more you smile the better your insides feel. No seriously! Nobody wants to deal with a dreary, mopey, miserable Martha. So start smiling more. Smile when you look at yourself in the mirror. Smile at strangers. Smile at friends and family and of course smile at your spouse/partner more. You know you give them a shitty time on occasions so just do it okay!!

Secondly… (And this is super important)

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I’m sick and tired of people talking about a gluten-free, dairy-free vegan bonanza, laced with happiness-free, miserable-filled diets! You, do, you, boo boo, and leave me to my bread-loving ecstasy. I believe that people can achieve anything in moderation and to be completely honest I think it’s a miserable existence when your whole life centres around 500g of protein and barbells. So stop looking at my burger with envy yet blasting me for clogging my arteries. Bitch I exercise so that I can treat myself. Life’s too short people!

Thirdly, It’s ok to say that….

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No one knows exactly what they are doing all the time. And besides, sometimes…

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Ladies these next two are for you. No matter what, you will remember these for all of eternity…

That’s right ladies! Hoes before Bros always! And listen to Chris Rock because he knows what he’s talking about.

Make sure to never turn into this…

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Don’t forget that even if your going through the shittest of times, Goldblum’s assurance goes a long way to ease your weariness…

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And lastly…. When in doubt, always remember to DO YOU and to…

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❤ ❤ ❤

 

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going back to my positivity and kicking ass for the rest of the day…

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Easily Distracted By Niceties…


One evening as I was preparing to board a bus back home I did some mental exercises and a few ‘woooosaahhh’s’ to help me deal with the city. And by city I mean the unemotional assholes of this world. The ones where the city has hardened them to an unmalleable substance. Where the soot, grease and oil intertwine throughout their DNA making them the terminator from the first of the franchise. The one who did not befriend you through cheesy one-line zingers such as ‘Hasta la vista baby’ and ‘I’ll be back’.  Either way, one has to be mentally prepared for these kill-joys. Luckily, I was one of the first ones by the door along with a much older gentleman who happened to be my stepping partner. We kept shuffling to pair ourselves with the doors while the bus slowed to its designated spot, almost like a sideways conga line. All we needed was some Latin flare in our upper bodies and we would have nailed it. As the doors finally opened the older gentleman said really loudly, ‘the lady goes first’. I was like well which fucking lady is this and why does she get an announcement?! And besides, I thought me and, let’s call him grandpa Herbie, had a mutual thing going on with our cha-cha-ing. Did I mention he was in a cute little suit! Awww little Herbie! Anyway I looked around trying to catch a glimpse of this Whorebag who got the privilege of getting on the bus before me despite shuffling so well. However, there was no jostling amongst us commoners, so, I looked at my suited and booted grandpa for guidance. His sincere eyes accompanied by his bowing hand gesture indicated that he was implying… Me! I was the Whorebag!! At that exact moment I felt as though someone had placed a beautiful glistening crown upon my head. As I glided onto the bus, my head was held a little higher. If I could have done that Miss America wave accompanied by some ugly joyous sobs as I walked through the bus I would have. Therefore I guess you could say me and grandpa Herbie had a moment. A moment that happened almost a year ago now and I still reminisce about it. Sadly I wish I was over exaggerating, but I’m not. And thus, like the title of this blog and the photo quotes say, I get distracted by niceties. Simply because they’re few and far between.

You know I miss the yesteryear generation. The one where kids said, oh geez, and warm apple pies sat on the window sills of picketed white fenced houses throughout the land. Okay so I’m probably over romanticising it a bit but I don’t care. As much as I love the internet, I miss the old simpler ways more. Nowadays we have become desensitised drones who get distracted way too easily. Somewhere along the line we stopped noticing other. We stopped standing still to be present in a moment because along that ‘somewhere path’ we all picked up some form of ADHD. For example, I don’t even remember the last time I fully paid attention to a 40 minute TV episode. And I’ll have you know I’m in love with the TV/Film world. But I have noticed that I pick up my phone, or cook some food,  and pick up my phone again, watch some snapchat feeds, and then talk to someone, and then read an article that some blogger just posted, all in one show-span. But if you want to get the ultimate robotic paused glitch from someone then do something nice for a stranger. The effect would be as if a repetitive ‘non-compute’ electronic sign scrolled across their forehead. Hence when Grampy Herbie made that gesture it felt as if the old world matrix was cheekily interfering with the new world one. A glitch in the system that buffers and then resolves without the player dwelling on it for more than 5 seconds or so. Man I could totally watch the Matrix trilogy right about now.

Unfortunately this lack of contact refers to every aspect of our lives. When someone pays you a compliment your first thought is “he wants to distract me in order to put some date rape pills in my drink” and the second thought is ” maybe he’s escaped from a mental institution”. That is just one example by the way. What about when someone picks up something you’ve dropped. Or helps carry your bags up the stairs. Or someone goes out of their way to return your lost wallet and so on. Therefore when someone actually is trying to be sincere, all systems crash within our cranial cavity resulting in confused distraction. In all honesty I probably think about nice things that have happened to me from like 20 years ago. It’s like I hold on to them in a metaphorical golden box stroking it lovingly from time to time. A bit like Dr. Evil in Austin Powers as he strokes his cat.

giphy Dr. Evil - Austin Powers
So what do we do nowadays with these magical rarities of necities? I suppose we should pay it forward. I think when someone goes out of their way, you should return the favour to someone else.  Even though I will probably still fall head over heels for those mystical unicorns, I know that I will continue to be appreciative of those nice gestures. Because let’s face it… At the end of the day, they really do make you smile. And what’s wrong with that?!

❤️❤️❤️