One day in Cairo

Prioritizing

This is hard for me because I hate being a quitter. So instead of quitting, I will call this moving on.

It’s been almost a year since I started this blog. I started blogging when I started my current job as way to relax and unwind a bit during my breaks. For a few months this was just a picture blog and I mainly used tumblr as a way to collect images that inspired me and ideas for future projects. But as time passed I found some wonderful and interesting people and began writing up bits and pieces of my day to day life. I have had some great followers and some great readers, thank you.

Yes, I’ve been posting quite rarely for the past few months. My life has been going through some big changes lately and I simply haven’t had the time or inspiration to write anything. I am now in school and still working full time, so the little free time that I have I try to reserve for house chores and spending time with Eli. The small amount of time we currently get to spend together (not sleeping and not doing homework side by side) is hard on us and because it’s so minimal, very precious. 

When September started and our schedules got super hectic, I was hoping that once we smooth out all the wrinkles I would once again have time to write. But really, I don’t think that will be happening for a while. I really appreciate the friendship and support I have gotten from some of you and the loyal following from the rest. I regret only not getting to know more of you.

So from this point on, this blog is officially closed. I will keep everything up for a while for my own reference, but there will be no further posts. If I decide to start up again, it is likely that I will make a new account altogether and start fresh. But I don’t anticipate that happening for a very long time. And if it does, it will likely not happen on tumblr.

Thank you for reading. I hope you all stay well.

Love,

Sophie

But I guess it only happens to me

When you wake up in the morning and think, “Today, I’ll try.”

So you put on some make-up and fix your hair and strut into the room thinking you’re hot stuff and then your boyfriend starts snickering. And keeps on snickering. For like 5 whole minutes.

Oh well. Hey, at least he thinks I look cute in sweats. I’ll take it.

Autumn, my favorite-ish!

Yes, I’m a little early. The first day of Autumn is officially the 23rd but I am feeling it! At least I’m imagining that I am. The damp smell of rain and and falling leaves and that crisp cool fall air… ahh! I love it all!

Autumn and Winter are my two favorite times of the year. I prefer cold weather to hot and adore everything that comes with it. Plus there’s also Thanksgiving and Christmas, my two favorite days ever. (And Eli’s birthday, that’s pretty high up on the list too. Oh what would I do without him, I do not know!) 

Very unfortunately, we currently live in a place where the temperature change from summer to winter is about 10 degrees until it finally rains for a week around Christmastime and then starts to warm up again in February. That’s about all I get of fall/winter. It sucks. It is horrible.It makes me miserable. 

I am very, VERY much an East Coast girl and I demand my crisp air and crunchy leaves and big bulky sweaters! But alas, for now we’re stuck here and there’s not much I can do about it.

Buuuuut, this year I’ve decided to not be such a bummerbutt about it. This city doesn’t want to give me fall? FINE! I’ll get it myself! I’ll hole up in our tiny apartment with fall decorations and pumpkin spice lattes and surround myself with all those irresistible fall colors until I forget all about the 75 degree weather outside. I have some big plans for an autumn wreath and fall-y mantel decorations and pumpkin waffles and apple spice cookies and warm cuddles!

Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen! I’ll let you know how it goes.

Dear Brooke,

Today is our birthday! So Happy Birthday to us. I do wish you were here to celebrate but alas, I suppose I’ll have to do most of that celebrating on my own. I didn’t have a chance to eat our ceremonial birthday cupcake today and I can’t hit up Ruby Tuesday for a free burger, but I will get a cupcake tomorrow and I ate a Carl’s Jr. burger yesterday. You do the best you can =) Happy Birthday! 

Love,

Me

Scratch that!

Hey remember that stuff I wrote about how Fridays are overrated and blah blah blah?

Well today is Friday. And today is awesome.

So I guess sooooometimes, Fridays can be pretty cool =]

Sometimes it takes a Thursday

Thursday is my favorite day of the week, and always has been. Let me explain.

Sunday mornings are great. I wake up, I do yoga, I continue to pretend that I’m having a highly productive weekend. But Sunday night is hard. I begin dreading Monday morning and the headache that the copious amounts of coffee I will consume will give me. The solution to that problem would be to not drink the coffee, but how then would I get across to everyone how much I hate Mondays? The only way is to drink lots and lots of coffee and whine about the fact that I hate Mondays. It’s peer pressure. I’ve got to fit in.

Monday - Wednesday I usually spend in a daze because I didn’t sleep enough/eat enough/am sad/don’t feel like doing anything/had this awesome dream about flying giraffes and then woke up only to realize it was a dream and am really disappointed and that’s greatly affecting my work ethic. 

Thursdays are full of glee and excitement. On Thursday I’m excited for the fact that tomorrow is Friday night which will be filled with unlimited cuddles and staying up late because you can sleep in on Saturday. Thursday is the 4th day of the work week and I really like the number 4. It’s all balanced and such. On Thursday the weekend seems really really close but not dauntingly close like when I start breaking out in hives because I’m so worried I’ll once again get nothing done this weekend and waste 2 days that could have been filled with extreme productivity. On Thursday I’m giddy. And smiley. And no one likes Thursday but me. It’s all mine. 

Fridays are always a let down. You wake up thinking “It’s Friday, Fridayyyy, gonna get down on Friday” but instead of getting down you end up working harder than you have all week because your boss never works on Fridays and he enjoys gloating about the fact that YOU very much DO work on Fridays while he plays golf and continues to fuel his gloating by giving you more and more things to do. Yep. So being excited for Friday ON Friday is STUPID. Because Fridays are always a let down. 

Saturdays are pretty neat. You sleep in, eat in bed, start some projects you’ll never finish, take a nap, construct lofty ideas for what you’ll get done tomorrow, cuddle, take a nap, eat in bed, and drift off to sleep. Wonderful.

So Thursdays are my favorite.

And now, let me be honest. I’ve been just horrible this week. I’ve been endlessly sad and mopey for no reason and definitely mercilessly took it out on my fiance. No, he did not deserve it. Yes, I did it anyway.

But yesterday, something changed. I apologized for being such a brat, my heart felt lighter, and everything didn’t seem so bad anymore.

And then the really great thing that happened yesterday happened. Drum-roll please… I got a raise! No, I’m still not making enough money to afford anything. BUT, I am making MORE money that I was before! Because that’s how raises work. And also, I get health insurance. I’m very happy about it.

In other news, I start school on Monday. I will be working and studying full time, and quite honestly, I’m nervous. I don’t know what to expect and I don’t know how I’ll have enough time to get everything done! So keep your fingers crossed for my success.

Now finally, I’d like to address the writing challenge. Yes, I didn’t start when I said I would. Yes, I’m crap at writing challenges apparently. Yes, I am ashamed and embarrassed and pretty bummed about my performance. But I will do it eventually. Just think of it as more of a 4 months, 7 people writing challenge. 

Alright, I’m off to suffer though the rest of this intolerable day called Friday.

Have a wonderful weekend, ya’ll!

Well look at that.

First day and I’ve already slacked on the challenge. 

Oh well, yesterday was busy. So I shall try again today.

7 Days, 7 People

Starting tomorrow and continuing until next week, I will work on the 7 Days, 7 People Writing Challenge. I found this exercise on a favorite blog of mine and thought it was very sweet and inspiring.

Here are the rules:

Every day for 7 days, write one post about a lovely person. This can be a stranger, a friend, a family member, someone you saw on the bus, etc. Your subject can be anyone, even a fictional character! Each day belongs to that one person and that one person only, so make sure you focus on all of their loveliness!

This will be particularly challenging for me as I find it hard to write every day. Besides, how will I pick my subjects?

Night is not the same as the day

I don’t have any friends here where I live.

When I moved away from where I lived before I mostly severed the relationships I had or they fell apart on their own.

Sometimes I nag myself about not putting in more effort with those people but then I realize that had I wanted to I could have and since I did not it must have been because I didn’t want to.

I realize now how much I took all that I had then for granted. The few friends I had, as much as they annoyed me sometimes, were always there. And whether or not they were friendships created out of mutual interests or convenience, I had those people to rely on. And now instead of those people I have guilt. Guilt for not appreciating them enough while they were there and guilt for using them as a crutch when I needed it. But I understand that many teenage friendships are like that and I was probably of much the same value to them. I think this realization and subsequent admission of guilt are quite a normal part of growing up.

But now I’m lonely.

My fiance and I live together and any time that we spend just the two of us is wonderful. In those moments I don’t need anyone else. We have a few friends that we see every once in a while, but the visits are short and conversation is lacking. These are mostly my fiance’s friends and although I’m desperate to make a connection, the oppurtunities are slim. These people don’t know me and the more time we spend together the more they get to know us, but not me. And I want to be noticed on my own.

Those times leave me with an agonizing yearn for a bosom friend, a kindred spirit. I dream of late night heart to hearts and a shoulder to cry on and girl to tell me she understands. I want to know someone with the same fears and the same agonies and the same secret wishes. 

I read blogs. At work, I read young mommas’ blogs, and crafters’ blogs, and amateur decorating blogs. I read them and hope to find something that connects me to these people - similarities in our personalities, tiny quirks we share, same passions and interests, etc. But what’s the point? These women live far away and have their own friends and their own kindred spirits. 

Rooting myself in this city has been difficult and I dream of the day we pack up and leave. But that seems like a waste of time when I could be enjoying my youth here and the personal growth and development I’ve got under way. Even if I hate it here, I’m sure in my 30’s and 40’s I’ll look back fondly on the small apartment where I made my first adult decisions and first realized that this isn’t a game of dress-up anymore. 

I know that moving would not solve the problem. The fault is with me, not the city. It would not be any easier to make friends somewhere else, and the same nagging drowning feelings would return after the excitement of the new place wore off. 

On days like this I wish it were rainy instead of sunny, and that I could hop on the train like I used to back home and go where people know me. I wish I could go to the Boston Public Library and snuggle in my scarf with a pile of new books to explore: new worlds, new friends, new lovers. I wish I could rush down Newbury Street in the rain and duck into Trident Books for a cup of coffee and a pleasant conversation with a stranger. I wish I could ride the red line to Harvard Square and sit on my usual left side of the train in and right side out. That city was mine. Full of my haunts and my corners and my little alleyways. 

I’m lonely. And I wish that Brooke was here to hold my hand, or Vicki to numb my mind with chatter of shoes and purses, or Jo to show me her new designs and whisper about the hot men she envisions wearing them. I want to have a girlfriend over for a cup of tea, or someone to grab a delicious hamburger-and-fries-AND-a-milkshake-with-an-extra-helping-of-NO-GUILT-WHATSOEVER-because-we’re-both-on-our-periods-and-this-over-consumption-of-food-is-important-for-the-sake-of-the-world, or just someone to laugh with.

This loneliness will continue through the day the then return to the little box near my heart where I keep all those sad feelings. I’ll go to sleep tonight beside the one I love, comfortable and cozy, all my sadness in that little box. His embrace will protect me and amaze me with its healing powers. And the tears will dry and my heart will once more bloom. On some nights I wake up and watch him sleep and my heart aches with the realization that he is my entire life. I love him more than anything and he encompasses everything in the world that I have. All my dreams and hopes, my faith and my desires, are in this man. I have trust in him and fear for him and I will protect him should anyone get too close. Should he disappear I would lose all that and more. I cry in those moments and regret having ever felt lonely for anything else when all that I could ever want I have right in front of me.

And then that little box pulsates with all the sadness I have felt throughout my life. And I realize that there is always a balance. It’s okay to be sad sometimes as long as every time, I find my way back. And his tender touch and warm embrace will always bring me back. He holds the key to that little box of saddness, a task I had never before entrusted to anyone. And he does it with honor and bravery. He believes in me and my dreams and my hopes. And that gives me and my dreams and my hopes flight and the courage to soar.