Monday, August 25, 2014

And tell you that I landed somewhere

Dear future hubster,
whenever I arrive to a new and thus unfamiliar airport, I get intimidated. I always think I've seen it all, but the same old stores are suddenly arranged in a different way, I have to figure out how the taps and hand dryers in the bathroom work, sometimes even the money isn't what I'm used to... it can be unsettling. So I go back to the shell of my shy self and retire to a corner somewhere.
Then, in that relatively quiet corner I pull out my good old Nick Hornby and very quickly become what I like being, the usual weirdo, laughing out loud in a corner, comfortably, blissfully ignoring the noisy overwhelming world around.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

And I can kick air!

Dear future hubster,
I know it's stating the obvious, but after a day that feels inefficient and gloomy, a good workout can make me feel that I am alive and can handle anything and anybody that comes my way.
Until the next morning when I can barely move and my limbs are all made of lead.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

ref: Cinderella

Dear future hubster,
there are not many things I know about this you and I, the where and when and how, but I will sure as hell do my best to wear Louboutins when I marry you.
To that end, dear future hubster, you'd better be tall.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Like there is a choice

Dear future hubster,
sometimes, for brief moments, I feel like I'm getting a grip on this life. I remember to make tea and coffee when the electricity is on, I remember that activities that don't require artificial light, such as reading, exercising and reflecting on the big questions of life should be performed during the bright hours of the day, and I even plan my housewife vs. bombshell maintenance in accordance with the practical restrictions of mission life.