Monday, February 29, 2016

Don't let it get away

Dear future hubster,
I decided that I'm going to consider this extra day as a gift given to us from the grace of the lunar or the solar or some other cycles, and will be grateful for getting one more of everything - sunrise, Monday, coffees. 
And I honestly think it would be a perfect way to celebrate this day by staying home, eating ice cream while checking out all the Oscar dresses, and being in love with Stromae.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

"Hope you regret it" dresses, on the other hand...

Dear future hubster,

I have a track record of planned impulse purchases (contradiction, I know) when in an emotionally unstable state. Once I reacted by signing the purchase order for my car to somebody saying the w-word when I was anything but ready to deal with that. I booked my trip to New York upon hearing the phrase "My ex is visiting next week". Feeling mildly love-sick regularly results in concert tickets. 

Not shoes though. Those I buy when I'm happy.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

That's what I do best anyway

Dear future hubster,
sometime I think I just constantly need somebody I can worry about.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

And he can dance!

Dear future hubster,
Sometimes you just watch Glee for a day, and all you walk away with is: Mike Chang is still hot.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

But my heart told my head

Dear future hubster,
I can't really fool my body. We've been together for too long. This body knows exactly that this time of the year we're supposed to be cold, suffering through short and snowy days and endless winter nights. Mind you, this is the exact same body that, for seven years living on the Western edge of the GMT+1 time zone, couldn't get over the fact that there can be daylight at 9:30 pm in July. And the same one that's utterly confused on a permanent basis because we're going on 33 and have never been pregnant. Quite a smart body, this one.
So no wonder this body is surprised by the mild temperatures (24 Celsius), the strength of the sun, the breeze coming from the lake, and the overall warm smell of the air. No wonder the body tells the mind "It's summer! We're young! We're free! Love!" and other silly things. It tells the mind to be more relaxed, more sociable, more easy-going than usual (the mind is a bit of a paranoid control freak one, you'll learn soon), and takes delight in the beauties of a Saturday afternoon feeling like Sunday. 
Result: We all (mind, body, myself) are quite happy.  

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years

Dear future hubster,
there are ways to get used to electricity that comes and goes, to symbolic water pressure, to tragic network quality, bumpy roads and utterly chaotic traffic, but it strikes me sometimes how badly one can miss the presence of men who smell good.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

I hope it burns calories too

Dear future hubster,
I've recently been reminded (by life itself) just how tiring anger could be. After half a day of being agitated, irritated, annoyed in disbelief, I'm simply exhausted. 
I'm sure you already have a method to ensure I can't be mad at you for long, but just in case, practice your puppy face time and again.

Monday, February 1, 2016

The pilgrim awakens

Dear future hubster,
somebody left a dream catcher my office. It probably has been there for ages, maybe belongs to Lola, and Lola has been long gone, I just never really noticed or cared enough to see it.
But today I did, and it made me think of that probably made up story of some indigenous people in an unidentified south-american country, the story that says they always start the day with a song, a song that is unique to the person. They are singing their shadows home, because the shadows go wandering at night.

That story was told in the dining hall of the albergue in Fonfría, and it fit the ambiance perfectly, for Fonfría is a magical place. That same night some traditional maori melodies were sung, and we even learnt a pilgrim song in what was supposed to be occitan. Plenty of that delicious almond cake was had, email addresses were scribbled on a napkin, I had a bit of a crush on a boy, and was deeply in love with life.
The next morning it was so dark and foggy that we were all forced to delay our departure, as if Fonfría didn't just want to let us go. Beautiful, innocent Fonfría, thinking that rain and fog can make us stay. We were all set out on a journey, to walk The Way, being forever grateful for every new village we discovered, and having a little undying regret for every place we left behind.