...when you're having fun!

Time is flying by at an alarming rate. Juggling uni, three orchestras, dance, cooking, cleaning, exercise, seeing friends, premed study and soon-to-come volunteer work means that most nights, blogging won’t even make it out of the fridge, let alone onto the back burner. And this is only my second week back. Who knows what life will be like once concert and exam season kick in... 

AMAZING, that’s what. Because why live life if it’s not to the full? I need to feel like there are never enough hours in a day; that I cannot physically achieve anything more with my time. And one of my favourite – albeit morbid – things to say: I can sleep when I’m dead! At least this will be good practice for my future 80-hour doctoring weeks. I'll just have to make sure not to tell that to my patients...

So, this week's smiles, in snapshots (how appropriate):

600 photos. Printed. Albumed. Treasured.

New perfume. Or rather, a new bottle of old perfume.

A pot of steaming chai. A caramel slice. A driving lesson. A quest for otherworldly things. Old friends, new lives.

Incredible posters. A wall of postcards from around the world.

Feeling a Beethoven Symphony under my fingertips. His 7^th, to be exact.

My first durian experience. Too long overdue.

Sharing the joy of salsa. Dancing. Though the edible variety makes me happy too.

Well, that’s all for now, I’m afraid. My physical exhaustion is currently trumping my motto... but I promise to return soon with some Italian treats!

Till then, my dear reader, buona notte.

Lemon sweet.

The first thought that came to mind after finishing my seven page French literature essay?

BLOG TIME!
Ok, you got me – technically speaking, I did think “CHOCOLATE TIME!” first, but that happens far too often to still be a surprise to you, dear reader.

So, I realise I’ve been neglecting this space for a few weeks now. Shameful, I know, but Life recently decided to throw a few rotten fruits of the citric variety my way. I can’t blame him really; I was waving around a “LEMONS WANTED” sign. Anyway, it appears that his throwing skills are far better than my dodging ones, so I’ll be feeling the sting for a while... I am on the road to making lemonade, but the path of slippery lemon peels is a difficult one to walk.

On a sweeter note, it’s time to tell you about my Easter holidays. Or should I say, “holidays”. Ten days, four cities and two thousand photos later, I need another just to recover! However, I can now officially say that I have been to France. And I liked it.

So, grab yourself a croissant and an espresso, dear reader, and watch this space!

“Life is about who you share it with.”

I read this quote on a friend’s Facebook status one night. Wedged in between vivid YouTube videos and bizarre quiz responses, it almost escaped my notice completely. Yet once I had read it, my reaction was somewhat blasé. ‘Just another generic lovey dovey saying’ I thought to myself, and continued scrolling down my News Feed in a fruitless search for interesting updates.

That was many months ago. Since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the phrase.

Yes, it’s clichéd. But clichés have to come from somewhere. And that somewhere is usually a commonly acknowledged truth – so commonly acknowledged, in fact, that it is taken for granted, unappreciated, and even mocked. That might be why I reacted the way I did...

But, the months that I spent pondering this little quote also marked a period of huge changes in my life. I’m under no illusion that I'm far from calm waters, but at this point in time, I can only reflect on what has already been. Guessing what is yet to come is something I have learned to do more and more in moderation.

I used to be a girl who didn’t need people’s company to be happy, to feel self-assured. I was quite happy in solitude. In fact, I preferred it that way most of the time. It may have something to do with being an only child who didn’t see much of her parents every day, and who didn’t have many friends growing up in a strange culture and a foreign country. I say that with no resentment or regret. It’s just the way it was.

But that all started to change about a year ago.

Maybe it was love? Maybe I just hadn’t found the right company till now? Or maybe it wasn’t the people I had gained, but those I had lost.

In those few months, I felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath me, and I was clutching at anything to make myself a safety net. I craved attention, affection, and above all, affirmation. I felt like a leech: so needy, so desperate. So reliant. And I was – for the first time since being a nine-year-old tucking myself into bed – scared to be alone.

I was beyond disgusted at myself, but it was a vicious cycle that I was too weak to break out of. Flattery and love flowed in from wherever I sucked. Everywhere except where I needed it the most. Yet, the more I got, the more I wanted, and the weaker I became to resist it. It wasn’t what I needed, but I tried desperately to fool myself that it was. It was an addiction of the worst kind.

It took me a long time to even realise I had a problem. Suppressing the pain was, as always, a much easier option. But they say recognition is the first step to recovery, right? I can take a step back now and look at the two extremes I had swung between. The harder part is doing something about it: finding the balance.

It’s learning the art of the three-legged race... Life is not about being the two-legged spectator, nor being the one pulling or being pulled. 

No, life is about who you share it with.