Posts Tagged ‘languages’

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words.

March 20, 2013

Without realising it, because it’s something so elemental, my whole life has been intrinsically tied to words. While others may excel in numbers, images, gestures, movement; I’ve always been best with words. My continued studies of modern languages (French and Spanish at university, and now Italian) complement my multi-lingual heritage; as a toddler, I used to babble in fake-Italian down the phone to my great-aunt because I wouldn’t understand what my grandparents’ generation were talking about to one another. It was like a secret code to me, and as I’ve grown older I have been more motivated to crack those codes.

Language is an attempt to codify human existence; it doesn’t always work, but we have great fun trying. Words can be used to communicate and express ourselves (both to create barriers and to break them down); to motivate and inspire; to entertain. On a basic level, this blog is my way of communicating and expressing myself. I write songs and poems to express myself once again, but also to entertain others; furthermore, I am writing my first novel (very early stages) in the hope of creating something that people will enjoy reading. Learning Italian has allowed me a new insight into my family heritage; I love learning and I seem to have a natural talent for languages. There is something about romance languages (particularly Spanish and Italian) that captivates me and holds my attention. I can’t really explain it, but right now for example I am watching Volver on a rare night home alone and I just feel very happy and ‘at home’.

I haven’t written much on this blog lately, because I am now of the feeling that if I don’t have something new or useful or valuable to say, then I’ll wait until I do. There’s enough filler in the world. So I apologise if my updates are sometimes infrequent (as they are lately), because I hope that the quality will prevail over quantity. As a child, we learn to use our words to express our desires; in the schoolyard (and elsewhere, but this is an early example most people can relate to) we then become aware that others may use their words to bully, hurt and provoke. As we become older and our understanding gets (hopefully) more sophisticated, we embellish our reasoning and almost forget that at the end of the day, we should be judicious with how we use our words. I don’t necessarily mean sparing – there are many moments when I am reminded of my mother’s saying that “there is a tongue in your head, so use it!” Words are there to be used. Just not abused. I hope that my forthcoming projects (album, novel, continuation of this blog, learning of Italian) and my lifestyle in general will make the best use of the words I have at my disposal and open my eyes to new things along the way.

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the art of conversation.

May 20, 2012

On Thursday evening I was waiting to meet Toby and Said in Starbucks in Westfield after work. I had my frappuccino, my copy of L’Officiel Hommes Italia (I had bought the Italian version rather than my usual French version in order to practise my Italian – I have been doing my Italian course for 3 weeks and I feel it’s going well, although I am still finding it hard to avoid thinking and speaking in Spanish) and my iPod in. I had serendipitously commandeered three comfy armchairs around a table, and was settling in to read. However, the cafe was getting busy and Toby and Said were running late due to traffic and transport. A pretty Asian lady in a blue coat came up to me and asked if anyone was sitting with me. Now, I could hardly say “I’m sorry, my friends are coming” because I didn’t know when they would arrive – as it happened, I ended up waiting for another half an hour before they arrived. So I said “No, go ahead and take the chairs.” The woman flopped down in the seat and exhaled loudly, before exclaiming “They should make places in here (i.e. Westfield) where you can sleep for half an hour!” I smiled and agreed, and soon she was joined by her equally pretty friend, who sat in the other vacant armchair. For a while, we didn’t converse, but somehow we eventually started talking. About shopping, about London (the first lady maintained that London used to have “quiet areas, but now there are so many people everywhere, you can’t escape them!”) and about iPhone apps. We even talked about finances and relationships, and somehow we passed the time amiably chatting. Their friend showed up and they introduced her to me, and although I didn’t know these women, I felt included and comfortable. It was an unusual situation, and when Toby and Said finally arrived, they wore slightly amused and surprised expressions on their faces as I bade the women farewell.

I explained how we had ended up talking, and I realised that while it was cute that “I had made Starbucks friends”, in the past this kind of situation probably wasn’t so uncommon. When you’re on a plane or on a bus and someone sits next to you, in the past we didn’t have iPods and other devices with headphones to cut ourselves off so effectively from the rest of the world. Ok, we might have been reading a book and people might have interpreted that as someone not particularly wanting to engage in conversation, but it didn’t render us incommunicado from the world outside in the same way – and we probably didn’t regard someone new wanting to talk to us as an entirely unreasonable intrusion on our privacy. Although a lot of people harp on about the youth of today communicating so wholly via social media that they no longer have (or necessarily need) conversational skills in the real world, I don’t think that I hold with that anti-technology, anti-modern view. People are either socially confident and equipped with skills to handle face-to-face interactions, or they’re not. Me and my friends use Twitter, Facebook, Instagram etc. – but we also enjoy talking face to face and venturing out into the big wide world.

As someone who has always been good at learning languages, the hardest and most nerve-wracking aspect of studying a new language is always speaking and listening – being able to successfully navigate a real-time, real-life interaction and find the words and sentences to express my needs and opinions. It takes practice, perseverance and a certain acceptance of making mistakes and learning from them. We can’t be afraid that we’re going to mess up from time to time – because that is definitely going to happen, and when we ask for help, correct ourselves and re-establish our confidence is when we learn. In much the same way, people can’t be afraid of making a social blunder even in their first / only language – it’s a totally understandable fear, but if we acquiesce to that fear, then we end up staying in hiding behind that array of screens never to conquer our social unease. The art of conversation is something that some people have much stronger skills in than others – but everyone can practise and hone those skills. We are all human, and at the end of the day physically being with one another isn’t the only way, but it is the ultimate one.

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Tube update: Marble Arch and Bond Street.

April 14, 2012

Today Toby and I went to Les Senteurs to see Nick deliver an interesting workshop on “Describing Scent” – I won’t go into details about it here, because I am hoping to write a proper review of it, so keep an eye out for that! Although I have been to these tube stations many times, I haven’t actually ever taken pictures of them because often it’s been night-time, or otherwise I just haven’t though about it. So voilà – Marble Arch and Bond Street.

After the workshop we headed to Liberty’s (of which I am not a fan, although I can appreciate why so many people like it, because its quirkiness and layout sets it apart from other department stores) where Toby bought some knitting needles and I bought a birthday card for Davina. And the rest of the day we have been just relaxing!  I have started reading my first book in Italian, Le cascate del violino by Andrea Gamannossi, and I’m really enjoying the story as well as making lots of notes and building my Italian vocabulary. I love languages! I’ll be back soon, hopefully with my review of today’s workshop 🙂

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community.

July 5, 2010

When I am on my driving lessons, my driving instructor (who lives around the corner from me and has done for the whole of my lifetime and probably many years prior to that) often points out people who he knows, chats about the various people who have lived and continue to live in certain houses and streets, and talks about life in Kingswood in general.  Most of the time, I can only nod my assent because I have no idea whom or what he is talking about; I only know the names and faces of the people who live within 3 doors of our house and across the road from it.  On the odd occasion that I am walking around the local area, I could quite happily walk past people who live on my street without recognising them.  This street is not and has never been a community to me; my town is just a place I live, and although it’s adequate (I like the fact that unlike other, more wealthy areas of the city, it doesn’t have a ‘grey’ atmosphere and I can see the sky – I’m not a total urbanite then!), I don’t feel any sense of community with the other people who live there; in fact, I feel like more of an alien (and with my dress sense, I look like one too).  I must add that I will stick up for where I come from, despite its chavvy, slightly dangerous reputation; I did get slightly offended by a comment made by one of the people on my careers guidance course at UWE; being a graduate of Spanish and French, I was asked “But in Kingswood, you don’t get an opportunity to practise your languages, do you?” This comment was accompanied by a smirk; I took slight offence because although it’s true that where I live is not a cultural hub and I don’t meet many people who are multi-lingual there, Kingswood is not formative of who I am.  Moreover, it’s not a bad place, and given that the area of Bristol that this person comes from is more renowned for crime and poverty than mine, it’s somewhat hypocritical and condescending.

Anyway, I went to Peterborough to spend the weekend with Toby last weekend, and I had a wonderful time, but I noticed that for him, life and his sense of community is different: he knows all of the people who live in his close and a lot of those who live in his village.  He went to school up the road from his house; he can point out many people in the photographs included in the local Parish News (I am unaware of Kingswood having a Parish News leaflet, or any kind of worthwhile community publication). It is interesting that I cannot do this.  I always went to school on the other side of the city, because my parents paid for my education and decided to send me to those schools (and based on my subsequent track record and academic success, I can’t quibble with their decision – it was pretty wise and with hindsight I would now have done the exact same thing).  When I went through a brief phase of playing with the family of girls who were my age and lived across the road from me, they had a group of kids who lived in the neighbouring streets as their friends: I knew none of these people because they all went to the same school down the road from our house; I went to a private school across the city.  We had different school holidays, different teachers, different friendship groups, different subjects.  In retrospect, that was most definitely for the best but at the time it felt like I had to work extra hard to fit in with them.  Despite living across the street, it was like I was visiting another world, their world, every time we would play together, and after a couple of years the visit wouldn’t be worth it, and we would just say hi without animosity as we occasionally passed each other on the street.

However, whereas Toby can name all of his neighbours and various people who live in his village (and I also understand that part of this is the difference between city / country-ish mentalities), I enjoy my popularity when I wander round the Bristol city centre – Mike commented once on a shopping excursion that it seemed as if I knew at least one person in every single shop (and there are a lot of shops).  This is an exaggeration of course, but not a massive one; I like shopping and I used to work in retail in that area, therefore my face is recognised in the area and I can recognise acquaintances who work there too. An amusing story is the Guess Boutique – whenever I go in the staff are extra-happy to see me because they still remember the time Toby & I went in and I fell in love with a bag that I could not afford; Toby & I left and I spent the whole of that Friday night babbling about the bag. Saturday lunchtime we returned to the store and I bought not only that bag that I had originally claimed was “too expensive” but also a hoodie to boot (it was on sale, there was only one and it was in my size, it was black and gold which are my colours – it was obviously fate so who am I to stand against destiny?). I don’t know if the staff there work on commission but I think that that day, they were very happy!  So I make friends in shops.  My friends who live in Bristol may have gone to school or university with me, but we came from all different parts of Bristol (and their experiences of commuting to find a community may be quite similar to mine) so urban centres, shopping districts, cafés and cinemas are our meeting points.

My point is, I have my own community of people whom I call my friends; friends are the family you can choose, as they say.  However, my friends are all dotted about the city (and beyond that, the country); the way we keep in touch is via telephone, email and internet most of the time; and when we want to meet in person, it’s got to be an arranged thing rather than a spontaneous wander down the road.  Although it can feel slightly isolating living where you have no real connection to anyone else in the immediate vicinity, it’s made irrelevant by the fact that I can speak to and arrange to see a lot of my friends within very little time; and that my friends are so, so good to me.  I think that having my own space is something that I value too; at the end of the day, I can retreat to my home and have a little time for me, safe in the knowledge that I’m not going to bump into or be harassed by anyone who knows me.  I can be anonymous, think independently, live as I choose without any fear of anyone whom I care about judging me. I know that in Kingswood, I dress differently, I wear different clothes, I speak and think differently to the majority.  I would never change that; I like being my own person and I won’t ever change to conform (a hard lesson that built my character during my school years). But it’s made easier when I’m surrounded by people with whom I have absolutely no desire to fit in. My community, the people whom I love and value, are my friends; my community is not local but instead city-wide, national, and one day I hope it will be global.

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something’s missing.

May 1, 2010

I like this song:

(Brandy – “A Capella (Something’s Missing)”)

The last 8 months have represented the happiest period in my life that I can remember.  I’ve grown so much as a person, I have made some terrific friends, I have started the longest relationship of my life to date, I have lost weight, I have tattoos (it’s my most recent tattoo‘s one-month anniversary today!) and I have finally started learning to drive again. It’s like I was in a chrysalis up until this point, and now I’m finally starting to spread my wings.

However, I can slowly but surely feel that happiness starting to fade a bit.  Perhaps it’s growing pains, because in December I had a tough couple of weeks – maybe I just need to ride it out.  I still have all the things I named above, so I can’t really complain too much.  But my growing discontent I think is largely due to the fact that I’ve not had instant success when applying for jobs.  I haven’t had an interview out of the six jobs I’ve applied to so far.  I won’t give up – I am committed to this new careers guidance career, I want to make a difference in other people’s lives, to young people.  And I want to carve out my own life, get a car, get a job, get a place to live.  I can’t do any of those things without the finances that come from a well-paying job.  So I really need this, and although I’ve had my applications checked and approved my tutors, and my CV was given a glowing review by the UWE Careers Service, I guess it won’t come that easy.

So here’s the part where I start to connect my life at the moment with the song above.  Listen to the words, and things will make more sense. I was complaining to Mike about the fact that I have yet to secure an interview for any jobs, and he said to me “Well, I am sure there’s nothing wrong with your applications and it’s probably bad luck, nothing personal, but I don’t know if we have the skills for some of the jobs you applied for”.  In other words, try not to worry, but don’t apply for such weird stuff.  But I thought that I had a good shot at being capable of the jobs I went for, and the fact I was able to fill out the application without really questioning it means that I didn’t really think that the jobs I applied for were that leftfield.

Then I bumped into Henna (from the Perfume Shop) and her friends in the uni café, and after chatting for a while, one of them turns to me and says “So you did languages at Oxford, why on earth aren’t you becoming a teacher?” I explained that even after my teaching assistantship in Spain, and enjoying teaching more than I expected to, I’d never gravitated towards teaching and it wasn’t ever on my radar. Even though I’m now working towards becoming a careers guidance practitioner and working with young people, it feels quite different to me because I’m instrumental in helping a young person shape their entire life and future, rather than wholly responsible for one component of that.  I just feel that this fits me better, but perhaps I’m missing a trick?  Then I start to think that perhaps I am just running away from the one true vocation I’ve always wanted: music.  Ever since I was a child, I wanted to sing, dance, perform, record and entertain.  I’m good at it; I’ve won prizes for it.  People loved what I did at high school, sixth form and university, and since then I’ve grown as a musician, performer and person.  Why aren’t I following my heart?  Although I release my music online and I have very positive responses, will that ever truly be enough?  By keeping total control, am I sacrificing my dream of making it big?  Is being spurned by employers left right and centre a subtle hint that I can’t really avoid my destiny?

I keep wondering if I’m missing something.  I’ve had other reasons to lately wonder what the hell is wrong with my brain (read my previous post for some of that), and I don’t consider myself so eccentric or out of the ordinary to have made it to age 24 that I haven’t realised.  But sometimes, I look at the way things are and just think, what is going on? Am I on another planet? I do often think I’m an alien, from another galaxy: in Kingswood, I seem to dress like nobody else, have desires for things that just pass everyone else by.  In my family, I have different aims, different values.  I seem to have been only partly informed by my upbringing, and a lot by the media, and my parents say that I am 10% of them, and 90% of something mysterious and random.  Where do I get it from, who am I, and when I find out, where do I go from there? I am glad I am my own person and I wouldn’t change that for anything, but sometimes it gets a bit lonely out here.

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besot.

August 14, 2009

Apparently (according to my computer & my father, though the online dictionary says different) there is no such thing as the verb “to besot”.  You can have the adjective “besotted”, which means to be hopelessly and absolutely in love, and it originates from the old English noun “sot”, which means “drunkard” (intoxicated by alcohol, as opposed to love), and before that the French word “sot(te)” which means “foolish”.   Ultimately, it comes from the Latin “sottus”, but enough of that – you don’t come here to read a dictionary, and I didn’t create this blog to write one.  My point is, Nick & I were discussing fragrances and their names, and we came onto the subject of Katie Price’s ‘collection’.  Her perfumes are called “Stunning” and “Besotted”, and I began to ponder why perfume names seem to prefer adjectives (and of course, nouns).  “Curious”, “Spellbound”, “Pure”, “Notorious”, “Luscious Pink”, “Signature”, “Strictly Private”, “Vintage” as well as all of the colours in the rainbow are just the first ones which come to mind.  But how many perfumes go with imperatives?  I can think of “Believe” by Britney Spears, “Inspire” by Christina Aguilera, perhaps the new “Challenge” by Lacoste, and not much else. (Feel free to add others in the comments)  I like the idea of a perfume with a direct purpose manifest in its name: instead of “Stunning”, “Stun”; instead of “Besotted”, “Besot” (who cares if it exists).  It sounds more urgent, more fervent, more powerful.  I like that.

So Nick and I were making up fantasy names for fragrances (“Fascinate” was a joke idea of mine), and we also think that Britney Spears should release a male fragrance called “Womanizer” (certainly a wittier and sexier name than her forthcoming “Circus Fantasy”.  How much longer before “Fantastic Fantasy”, or even “Fantasy Fantasy” appears?).  What about “Seduce”?  “Captivate”?  I even like the sound of “Unravel”.  I think these sort of commands harness the power of the words and make them more immediate, more direct.  I suppose I am not a perfumer, nor a marketing exec, so I’m talking out of my depth.  But it sounds good to me.

As most people (I presume), I wear different perfumes depending on my mood and what essence I want to exude at a particular moment.  I don’t wear a fragrance just because it’s popular or because it’s a big seller, and I am no longer fooled (after working in fragrance for a year and a half) by which perfumes are male, female or unisex.  Gearing a perfume towards a specific demographic is a marketing tool to gain a target audience, and pretending that a perfume is gender specific is part of this marketing.  Scent is scent, it’s intangible, and if it suits you and you like it, wear it!  You’re wearing a fragrance and making it a part of who you are, whether it’s Chanel Pour Monsieur or Chanel No. 5.  You wear the fragrance, the fragrance and the name doesn’t (or shouldn’t) wear you.  I just want to briefly delve into my collection of 20-something bottles (it sounds bad to non-perfumistas; to avid fragrance addicts, it is a restrained collection) and list a couple of things I wear when I…

…am going to work.
If I’m off to work or going somewhere business-like, I don’t want something too intrusive or seductive, but something pleasant and slightly different from the norm.  After all, in a professional environment (especially when I was working in fragrance!), you don’t want to blend in and smell like everyone else, and you certainly don’t want to come off smelling cheap.  You have to make your mark and your uniqueness felt, all while not being so obvious about it that your fragrance screams for attention.  So I tend to plump for “Deseo for men” by Jennifer Lopez (because it’s a slight yet heady mix of mint, tonka bean and soft spices – and it’s also not available in the UK, so I have no fear of running into anyone else wearing it), “Guerlain Homme” because its refreshing mojito-esqueness refreshes me through the day and perks me up with daydreams of evening cocktails, and Escada’s “Sunset Heat” is perfect for after the gym, with its juicy watermelon supplying all the tart freshness I need to revitalise me after a hard workout.

…am going on a date.
I have always had luck pulling wearing “Gucci pour Homme II” for some reason, though it was a hard sell during my time working at the Perfume Shop.  It’s a sweet, sexy spicy concoction, with a prominent tea note that is hard for a lot of people to put their finger on.  It’s intriguing and unlike a lot of other fragrances out there, especially for the male market – it’s not aquatic, it’s not leathery, it’s not ultra-green pines and grasses.  Sadly, I hear that Gucci are discontinuing it, so I will have to stock up.  Otherwise, I find that I feel seductive wearing Emporio Armani’s “Diamonds For Men”, which is another sweet fragrance made up of bergamot, cocoa and cedarwood that has an artificial yet addictive spike to it (I’m aware that I use strange words to describe perfume such as “angular” and “dark”, because that is the most accurate way I can convey how a perfume makes me feel). Tom Ford’s “Black Orchid” smells expensive and intoxicating, with a dizzying mix of oriental florals, vanilla and patchouli, with a mysterious undercurrent of something both grimy and bizarrely exquisite (heady mystery = very good). And Lancome’s “Hypnôse” for men is a powdery amber than lingers closely to the skin and invites the object of my affections to come close and try to put their finger on the intangible scent I’m exuding.  They won’t be able to, but maybe they’ll end up touching me instead, and therein lies the art of seduction!

…am meeting friends for coffee / casual get-together.
If I’m just going about my day-to-day business in my free time, socialising and having fun, I want something light and carefree.  Again, I’m attracted by the sweet (though I have the kind of skin which turns everything to sweet anyway, even if it didn’t start out that way!) and although I wear what I want when I want and (despite these paragraph headings) have no hard and fast rules, I like: the strawberry citrus delight of Black XS, which attracted me with its sexy ad featuring model Will Chalker, and epitomises summer with every inhale; the giant sweet Barbie tuberose of Juicy Couture, which is supposed to be a girly perfume but I love it nonetheless because it accentuates when I am feeling carefree and fun-spirited; the orange-icing sugar delight of Ultrared Man (again by Paco Rabanne) that is just too good to be simply a summer “limited” edition (though it is widely available and therefore not really limited – another marketing ploy!); the lemon-almond light soufflé that is Dior’s “Escale à Portofino”, which sparkles on the skin and is another elegant summery delight.  I also enjoy the floral clean-ness of Prada “Infusion d’Homme” which I loved at first and found utterly intoxicating, but now has quietened down to be a resonant soapy wonder than makes me feel so fresh and so clean.

…am going to a club.
If you have ever been to a club, or in fact ever been in a confined space with other people for any length of time, you will know that a) you will sweat, and b) other people will sweat.  Therefore you need a fragrance that will really go the distance and last hours and hours, while smelling intoxicating and can pull attention towards you in the crowd.  This is the one situation where I really go all out for the “wow” factor (unless I’m in a perky/mischievous mood in the morning/daytime) and select my ultimate favourite fragrance of all, “Dior Homme”.  This fragrance is a sophisticated blend of iris, violet, patchouli and chocolate (as well as some heady alcoholic thing I can never quite put my finger on) and confidently resides in its own sophistication and element of class.  I love it, and I wear the original and the Intense, which of course amps up the scents and goes all night. 😉 It certainly does the trick!  A close runner-up is A*Men by Thierry Mugler, with its chocolate-coffee-sundae and hints of burnt rubber and blackened caramel roughing up the edges.  Spraying too much on is lethal to passers-by, but the right amount can last and last on the skin, and belies a gourmand sensuousness that has the power to satisfy hunger pangs with a single sniff.

…at home by myself in the evening.
It’s safe to say by this point that without wearing a scent, I feel naked.  All of the above fragrances are ones that I enjoy, and I’ve left plenty others out, but I’m quite a nocturnal person and on nights when I’m enjoying my own company, I want to wear something sensual and subtle.  Something that isn’t overpowering, that lingers close to my skin and that compels me to repeatedly sniff my wrists.  What comes to mind is “Deseo” by Jennifer Lopez, which is a sexy, subtle scent that has tinges of lush tropical greenery, hidden behind a layer of midnight rain.  It’s subtle, it is sexy and I feel very in touch with my emotions and my inner sensuality when I wear it.  Other sexy/sensual/ethereal fragrances that perform this same trick are Gucci “Rush” (floral musky fruit boom) and Mariah Carey’s “M” (tiare marshmallow vanilla whip).  This “trick” is exactly what I mean when I talk about making perfume a part of who you are; it is an emblem of your essence, and an olfactory summary of all that you are at that moment.

(ps. this site has been my perfumista bible and point of reference for a fair few months now: for all perfume news, reviews and articles, go to Now Smell This)

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self fulfilling prophecy.

August 2, 2009

Right now, I am talking to my friends Marcus and Nana on msn and we are discussing the future.  I know it is a scary thing to discuss, and its at once prudent and futile. Prudent because having life goals gives you something to work towards and gives you a drive to get up in the morning and be the best you can be; futile because you can only plan so far before life gets in the way and throws you a curveball that makes you adapt or be left behind in the dust.  And being able to adapt at what life throws at you is a true test of will and something that makes you really grow up and mature.  A learning curve, a work in progress, and what provides you with life experience and (hopefully) wisdom along the way.  If, as I grow up, I have some wisdom or sense, then I will be happy with that.

So we’re discussing the future, and I say that I hope to have friends and a degree of success which satisfies me.  So that I can look back on my life and feel proud of whatever it is that I end up achieving (I am determined to achieve something), have stability financially and in terms of my family and house.  I have never really had problems making friends and I believe that I will always have good friends around me.  But I never ever imagined being with somebody later in life.  5 years, 10 years, 15 years, 30 years down the line, I see myself as single.  I know it sounds sad and pessimistic, but as much as I have been on dates (had another one today, but he has a long distance bf so I think we will be just friends – which is a shame, as he seemed to be annoyingly perfect and we had so much to talk about, he was lovely and handsome), I can’t imagine myself having a successful very-long-term relationship.  I don’t know if it is because I am unlovable on that level, or just because I am too good at making friends and no good at going beyond that, or because I am now just focused on establishing myself and getting myself a good career and financial stability (which is going to take a long long time in itself), but I just don’t foresee it.  And obviously, since I’m not a clairvoyant, I could be completely wrong. In fact, I would be quite happy to be proved wrong, because sometimes I wonder if it is a self-fulfilling prophecy and because I imagine myself to be alone and can’t see anything else, I am going end up that way because I can’t keep my mind open to the possibility.  But at 23, I don’t think I have closed my heart off to love – it’s obviously just not my time.  Just what is fate, anyway?

Something that people say is that there is one person for everyone – I don’t believe that, because there are so many people in the world speaking so many different languages in so many different countries and cultures, that there has to be more than just “the one” for you (overcome the language barrier, the gender barrier, would open up a whole new world full of new people to you).  Another thing that people say is that “sooner or later you will find someone”.  I think people say that just to pacify you, or to reassure you that you won’t be lonely forever. But the hard truth is that some people do end up alone, and often it’s not because there is anything wrong with them, they just ended up that way through circumstance or choice or not finding a compatible mate.  Maybe I won’t find someone – through no fault of my own, I believe I’m not a bad catch 😉 – but if I have lots of friends around me, I won’t be alone, and if I am financially stable and living in a place I like, then I could still be happy.  I like to think (call me naïve) that I could sacrifice something and still be happy.  And in a way, I guess in life, we all have to sacrifice something.