Posts Tagged ‘Change’

Not Quite Resolutions

Image From http://therichkidwannabe.blogspot.com/2011/01/resolutions-for-new-year.htmlI’ve never much believed in New Years Resolutions, mainly because the turning of the year is no more likely to get me on a treadmill than bikini season or my gym instructor’s scornful “I haven’t seen you here in months” eyes. So just to be clear these are not resolutions. It’s two weeks into 2012, so we can agree that I’ve definitely missed the resolution making portion of the year.

These are not so much ways to improve myself, and lets face it why would I want to (don’t answer that) but instead, more ways to ensure I don’t reach 2013 without a single thing to show for myself aside from that increasing Jack Daniels dependency. And shoes, far, far too many shoes.

1. Get a job, one which pays more than the most minimum of wages. As much as I love my mum, I can’t spend the next 27 years living at home, which incidentally is how long it would take me to put a deposit on the very shittiest of flats with my current salary.

2. Sky dive, or bungee jump, or take up aerobatic flying lessons or pretty much anything in this general category that is guaranteed to make me pee my pants a little bit. You’re never going to be amazed in life, unless you do some things, which are a little bit amazing.

3. Succeed in getting George Michaels “Faith” out of my head. It’s been stuck there for approximately 3 years, and whilst before it was bad, now it also comes with the accompanying dance moves compliments of J.D. No not the liquor, the character, in Scrubs.

4. Visit a county, where the rain is warm. Or perhaps before I get ahead of myself, I should aim to visit a country which is not Cypriot, Greek, Greek-Cypriot or any other variation which results in me eating Feta in the village tavern owned by Stelios.

5. Slow dance. Not jokingly. Not with my God-sister while drunk. Not with my dog (who for the record does an excellent Waltz) and not with my fingers on the steering wheel whilst bored in traffic.

The list could go on. A result of a very unproductive 2011 no doubt, I am left with a million and one things I was always meant to, but never quite got around to doing. I guess I could add teaching my dad how to text to the list and losing that last pound that just won’t budge from my thighs, but like I said these’s aren’t resolutions, and I am not a miracle worker.

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I’m think I’m being stalked by a little man who lives in my computer. He keeps sending me emails and throwing me pops up that are just a little bit too coincidental.

“Bored of being single?” (How did he know?!)

“Backless, bodycon Asos dress, buy it now” (Funny, I was looking at that yesterday)

“Need cash fast” (Hell yes I do… but no, I’m not doing that!)

“Dull, lifeless hair? Try L’Oreal Nutrisse” (Okay, I get the hint, I need to colour my hair. In the mean time I wish people would have a little common courtesy and pretend they hadn’t noticed the two-inch roots).

“Jeans feeling a little tight…” (That’s it. My laptop’s stalking me).

Either my computer is trying to tease me, or it has cleverly regurgitated all the information I’ve input into it this last month and is now trying to tell me I’m stuck in a rut. Denial has always been a beautiful coping mechanism for me. Bottling up all my emotions for a year or so then snapping one day in KFC when the man behind the counter forgets to give me my gravy.

Since, however even my Dell is sending me subliminal messages to get my life in order, I’ve decided to do something rare: listen.

I say it’s rare not because I think I know it all (which coincidentally, I do), but because I’m stubborn by nature. And I love to blame this on the whole Greek thing. It’s always nice to be a little culturally different, because it serves well as an excuse for… well pretty much everything. When my friends point out that I eat faster than anyone else they know I just say: “I’m Greek, family dinner on Sunday consists of 30 people… I’ve learnt to eat fast, or have it eaten for me”.

Anyways, these past few weeks I’ve realised that life is a lot like being on a train. Every day you get from A to B, but not a lot happens in the process. You sit there, sometimes you sleep a little, you fix your makeup between stops, you read the paper, eat a banana. And after a while the days blend into one, and eventually even your laptop starts to pity you.

Then, yesterday, like every day, I got on the Piccadilly line. Hadn’t so much as bothered to wash my hair because, lets face it – who do I have to impress? I stood by the door, holding onto the rail, but making no real effort to stop the train from throwing me about a little. At Caledonian Road, a boy came on. Or a man? I’m never really sure at what age they stop being one and start being the other. My mum says never, though that may be her cynicism talking.

He was tanned, wore a name badge, his name was Eren, tall. He was no Mark Salling but he was attractive enough. He looked at me and I pretended not to notice. I turned away from him and quickly applied some lip-gloss, who cares about subtlety; I needed quick compensation for my messy hair. Why-oh-why had I not sprayed myself with the usual Jean Paul Gaultier that morning, and no eyeliner… what was I thinking?

The thing is, I had made the classic error and forgotten that while life can be a little repetitive, and a little bland, you never know when someone interesting is going to step into your carriage. I had gotten it all wrong, life is like a train ride: not a pointless journey, but a random collaboration of people. Sometimes you’ll go days without anything more interesting than a little shoulder knocking and then other times you come into collision with someone who reminds you what it’s all about.

He stayed on all the way to Oakwood. We got off at the same time; both took out our Blackberry’s (his a black curve, mine a while bold) to call our parents for a lift. We walked out the station, unintentionally side by side, then walked off in completely the opposite direction.

I went home and immediately coloured my hair. Black: a bold move. I hate to say it but my computer had a point. I was being ridiculous. And you know what, I will buy that bodycon dress. It was time for a change.

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