London is a great city. It has everything that you could possibly want and more. It’s a place where magic happens, where the lights twinkle with mischief. The hustle and bustle of the streets give me comfort at times. The sounds make me feel like I’m not so alone. And around every corner there is a new little street to explore. This photo was taken on an adventurous day out with two of my most favourite people in the world. It was a day that the three musketeers got together, to laugh, be merry, explore and eat till we were rolly pollies! These two get me. They get all my quirks, my oddball tendencies and my OCD habits. They let me be when I need to be, they console me when I need to be consoled and they laugh at my ridiculously silly jokes. Sometimes I do feel quite alone in such a big city as London. But on this day I never felt more happier, nor more alive. As they cuddled along the Thames, and stole secret kisses when they thought I wasn’t looking (my peripheral vision is stellar), I waddled along taking pictures to my hearts content. And they just stood around and let me take hundreds. Not one sigh of annoyance uttered their lips. Not one bored eye-roll. I don’t think they know this, but I loved that they did that for me. Showed enthusiasm with my obsession of photography. To almost anyone else, I would not have received such kindness. Such warmth. I really appreciated it that day. As the three musketeers pottered along the Thames I thought of how happy I was in that moment in time. How my two favourite people lit a spark of affectionate ember towards each other a few months prior. And in turn, that ember kindled the warmest of fires that is still going strong to this day. It makes me a believer when I see them. As they say, behind every photo is a story. And the story of this photo is that of friendship. A strong bond that is formed between people. It is very much like the bridge you see before you. A strength to carry the weight of many, to support, and to bridge the gap between two. And as the last photo was taken, the three musketeers waddled off together towards the twinkling lights of London.
The person who I nominate today is Dorkchops! It is completely up to you if you want to participate in this challenge. If you do, then here are the rules.
Okay guys. It’s time that I tell you that I am not liking this exploration into love. It has opened up a lot of mixed feelings on the matter. I went from sappy, to mushy, to humorous, to even writing short stories on the subject. And boy has it taken a toll on me.
Well can you believe it! Valentine’s Day is tomorrow! I know some of you may still be scrambling to find some things to do for your significant other. So… here are some cheap, cheery and fun ideas!
Enjoy! And don’t forget to click on the images so you can see all the how-to’s.
The only movie I cried like a baby to is The Notebook. I’m pretty secure with myself to admit that in writing. There you have it, I’m not a complete cold-hearted bitch (which my ex-boyfriend so kindly labelled me on several occasions…I’m secure to put that in writing as well).
This movie for some reason makes me want to believe in the fairy tale of love as well as making me look at my life and wanting to kill myself all at the same time. How can one movie do that to you? Sometimes I used to put it on when my then boyfriend and I were going through a rough patch. Or when I would end a relationship, or even when I was on the verge of killing men. I would find solace in putting it on relaxing and re-energising my love for romance. It was that or me going on a murdering rampage directed towards all the douchebags of the world. Since I did not want to lead a life of criminal mischief I always decided to watch the movie. Here’s the thing though, putting this movie on every time is not really doing any favours for me. It literally drives me crazy. I sit there and wish I could find a man who would love me like Noah. To wish for something like that and then have a glimmer of hope that it might be out there is let’s face it, bullshit. No wonder women have such a warped sense of love and on top of that have the highest expectations on the planet. It’s ridiculous. And yet, on top of my negativity, I still have that hope for a fairytale romance. How is that even possible?
I am pretty sure that women relate to movies on a much higher unrealistic level more so than men. Men just want to be James Bond and envision themselves with all the gadgets and women for that matter. We are the ones that watch the rom-coms, romantic dramas or more accurately put, the mushy mush of lovey-dovey rainbows and unicorns. We then look at our partners with a sideways glance of annoyance because while we are watching the love fest on our screens we are running a list off in our head of our partners not doing what the leading man in the movie is doing. I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s true. How many times have you sat down and watched a lovey-dovey movie sighing because your life has not come even close to that level of intense love? Here’s the thing people, it is a movie. Yes, after the countless of times I have sat my ass down to see it and to wish upon every holy wishable thing on this earth that one day it would eventually come true, it won’t. Maybe some form of liveable love exists. But to put all your hopes into such a perfect form of love is unattainable and most definitely unrealistic.