Woe-is-Me Wednesday

I'm in the process of packing up my belongings to move out if my tiny little study into a considerably bigger apartment. It feels unreal - I'm so happy to be moving! Not too happy about the fact that I have about five days to pack up all my things though. It doesn't feel like enough time at all. And I'm kind of freaking out about it.

All the paperwork regarding my master's thesis is finally done, but instead of enjoying it I'm stressing about the graduation ceremony coming up in less than a week. And then there's this thing called job applications... I'm kind of freaking out about that too.

And to top it all off nicely: Guess who woke up at 6am with a cold this morning?

Bottom line, I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine right now. I had so much planned for today - tea with a friend, ice skating, dress-shopping for graduation, packing up the contents of my bookshelf, loads of laundry, getting some more paperwork sorted for my move... Now I'll be happy if I can manage to make some lentil and ginger soup and get through a few phonecalls without sounding like I'm dying. This is not okay.

Excuse the feel-sorry-for-me rant! It's just such ridiculously bad timing.

Question of the day

If I were...

I found this list somewhere. I quite liked it, so I filled it in.

If I were a month it would be: October
If I was a week day it would be: Tuesday
If I were a number it would be: 7
If I were a flower it would be: Jasmine
If I were a direction it would be: East 
If I were a piece of furniture it would be: Lace curtains

If I were a liquid it would be: Green tea
If I were a sin it would be: Pride
If I were a metal it would be: Silver
If I were a tree it would be: Magnolia
If I were a musical instrument it would be: Cello
If I were an element it would be: Air

If I were a color it would be: White
If I were an animal I would be: A cat
If I were a sound it would be: oldfashioned circus music
If I were a song it would be: Dream a little dream of me
If I were a perfume it would be: Flowerbomb by Victor and Rolf
If I were a feeling it would be: Calm or whistfulness


If I were a food it would be: Spring rolls
If I were a smell it would be: Lavender
If I were an object it would be: A door.
If I were a piece of clothing it would be: A soft checked flannel shirt
If I were a body part it would be: Hips
If I were a phrase it would be: Let there be light

Grandmother fashion

Today, I returned from an inpromptu shopping trip with a handful of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons to sew on a cardigan I have, and a dirt cheap fake leather bag in a weirdly wonderful dark sea green. Whilst walking home, I gradually came to realize that both these purchases were inspired by my grandmothers.

My grandmother on my mother's side was a softspoken, graceful woman. The family were farmers, and she lived trough two wars. I knew her as a sweet, beautiful old lady, always immaculately put together: She wore lavender, mauve, marine blue and cranberry red, cool shades complementing her dark hair and pale skin. She was always in skirts, cardigans and dresses with one or two pieces of dainty gold jewellery - tasteful, delicate and always beautiful.

My grandmother on my father's side is almost two decades younger than my nana, and the two couldn't be more different from each other. My granny is a city girl born and bred, and I've been told there was dancing. Lots of it. Compared to my nana, granny utilizes a whole different colour palette: mainly warm greens, burgundys and browns. She carries large brocade handbags and has gifted me quite a few mysterious, ornate stone pendants from her extensive jewellery collection.

As I'm sewing the mother-of-pearl buttons onto my cream coloured cardigan, I know my nana would approve - it's exactly her delicate, feminine style. And the greenish bag with antique brass hardware? Right up my granny's alley. My normally so bohemian style of clothing is gaining a distinct vintage touch as the days get darker, and who better to inspire me than the women who raised my parents?

On my way

Everything in my life is very much up in the air right now. People keep telling me how exciting that is, and I keep pretending to agree with them.

I keep reminding myself that at this point, the fact that I don't have a plan is not necessarily a bad thing at all. I also keep trying very hard not to panic.

Ten things

1. Don't let anyone pull you into their storm - pull them into your peace.
2. Breathe deeply.
3. If you find yourself in the wrong story, leave.
4. Be kind, no matter what.
5. Remember that there is always more than one way of doing things.
6. Choose your battles.
7. Listen.

8. Don't look back - you're not going that way.
9. Do all things with love.

And 10:

It's been a while...

...but I just might start writing here again.

Coffee and sunglasses

February gave way to March, and just like that, spring arrived. On the evening of the first of March, a strange, dense fog enveloped the whole town. It was a night of odd coincidences and unexpected encounters, and it made me think of a play I was in where we used artificial fog to distract the audience during scenery changes on stage.

The scenery change thing turned out to be a pretty apt metaphor, because the next morning the dreary February weather was replaced by blue skies and bright sunshine. Since then, I’ve not left home without my beloved tortoiseshell (extremely fake) Raybans and my floral wellies, and the sun stays up for longer each day, as a promise of the white nights of June. March is off to a lovely start.

Lent is going surprisingly well - the only sweet thing I treat myself to is some sugary, milky coffee every now and then. I’m doing pretty good with my writing too: Right now I'm happily submerged in a particularly theory-heavy chapter, a cup of aforementioned coffee next to me. Tomorrow I'll hop on the train to my still-wintery home town for a long weekend of family celebrations and reunions with childhood friends.

(No, not really. But I do love that quote.)

Whishing you all a beautiful month of March!

Green ink

Whenever I find myself procrastinating, I imagine Hermione's 

disapproving face and pretend I'm writing in green ink.

(Just a random quote found somewhere on the internet. Is it weird that this works for me too? Probably. But it does. And with that, I'm off to do some actual thesis writing.)

Art is

I went to see a contemporary art exhibition yesterday. Now, I'm first and foremost a lover of expressionists like Chagall or impressionist like Renoir, but that love is mainly about passive appreciation and admiration. Looking at contemporary art, on the other hand, is rarely as enjoyable, but it definitely kicks my own creativity into gear.

As a result, I'm now in that slightly pretentious, artsy mood where I just want to listen to Scarlett Johansson while being crafty. Right now I'm crocheting hippie-ish beaded bracelets and stitching together decorative hearts with little trinkets and words on them. Just because it's fun to actually create something, not because I actually know what to do with my creations. Oh, and I'm listening to Falling down on repeat. Anyway, it's a very nice way to spend a sunday evening.