Not a Boring Post

Yesterday I was talking to my new colleague about an ex-colleague, who had once been her boss (she became her boss after leaving my office). At the time when this person still worked with me (a couple of years ago now), she wasn’t my boss though. Thank all the gods. Thing is, she was one of the most self-centered, obnoxious, hypocritical people on earth. Her low-self esteem, which she transformed into emotional bullying, did not help either. I spent 3 years working in the same office with her, and I must admit it was one of the most stressful times of my life.

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While talking with my new colleague, I vented a bit and told her stuff I had never told anyone except my partner about the way this person used to try and manipulate people. Not to mention all the ‘stories’ she used to tell me pertaining to her sexual and dating escapades, which only served to fuel my antagony towards her. Now let me be clear, I am very open minded and never judged any of her actions – the thing is, when you are in a professional setting, you just shouldn’t talk about certain things with colleagues! Period! This really made me uncomfortable with her, especially since she used to get into graphical details – very PERSONAL details, which I really didn’t need or want to know!

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When I described this one-sided relationship to my new colleague (because I for sure NEVER shared such intimate stuff with her in return), she was astonished. ‘No wonder you couldn’t stand working with her any more! I don’t even tell such personal details to my closest friends, let alone talk about them at work!’ That was her reply, and I was glad to see that I was not the only one thinking like that.

Yes some colleagues are also friends, but there is still a line which must never be crossed.

By the way, NO she particularly wasn’t a friend – in fact professionally, she was actually a fraud. She never did any work, came to the office late and left early, and even tried to get ME to do her work while taking all the credit. And THAT is where I got really fed up, told her to fuck off, and refused to work, talk, or interact with her in any way. I had been fed up with her for a long time, but I am not the kind of person to fight at the drop of a hat, so I try to reign myself in and calm down… HOWEVER when I realize that a person is hopeless and can only be of detriment to me, I tend to categorize her in my mind as a ‘waste of time’, and just move on. And when that line is drawn, I never go back, and good riddance (it’s the kind of thing which happened with most of my exes).

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The line was not drawn when she told me more than I (or anyone would have) felt comfortable with, but since she was a work-mate, it was drawn in relation to her work attitude. Having her moaning and groaning about her ex, and her one-night stands every bloody day for three years, did not help either lol. For me, personal and intimate stuff, particularly that pertaining to relationships, is PERSONAL. Meaning that since for me, it is special and magical, I do not share it with anyone and everyone who comes along – and this is why THIS blog is not a romantic one by the way. I rarely, if ever, mention my soul mate and partner, not because he is not always there, present in my life and a priority – of course he is, BUT because, in fact, my life with him is MINE and I do not feel comfortable sharing it on a blog. There is plenty much else I can write about anyways, so I don’t need to resort to that. 

Not to mention that I don’t want to be repetitive or boring (which so many blogs unfortunately, become after a while).

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Anyway, moral of the story – if there’s a colleague who’s bothering you, don’t wait for three years to set her in her place and show her that you want your relationship in the work place to be strictly professional. And this, of course, does not only apply to work colleagues!

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Reality vs Fake Airs- Why Write?

I’m not the kind of girl who likes to boast. I don’t play the passive-aggressive card. I don’t like playing the victim in order to get pats on the back. I don’t like putting myself down in public, in order to receive commiserating compliments. I got past all that immature stuff at approximately the age of 15.

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It does not mean that I am emotionless or that I don’t have feelings. On the contrary, it means that I only share what I find worth sharing. Moreover, I only share it with a limited number of people I am close to, and definitely not with social media at large. I’m not that desperate yet.

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Perhaps it could be that I don’t have the unmitigated urge to display all my insecurities and naggy rages because I have, I admit, always been kind of an introvert. Yes, I communicate and share my experiences through writing, but still I  pay attention to get only as personal as I’m comfortable with. Especially if I’m writing something which, I know, many people are going to read. How many intimate sentimental poems have I written? How many embittered and angry short stories, reflecting my moods and my past, have I penned? How many irritated rants about my disgust and dissatisfaction with the human condition at large have I scribbled? No one knows the answer to this question except myself. Mainly because no one has read them – or if they did, it was only one or two people at the most. This is because, when my heart bleeds and my fingernails gauge half-moons of frustration on my palms, I write – I cannot help it – it is the way I vent what I feel and the way I tick. However, just because I write something, actually showing it to someone is something else entirely. 

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I write for myself. I write because I cannot stop. I write because it helps me come to term with reality – ironic as that sounds.

Whether something is floating on a current of social media out there or not, is irrelevant.

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I guess it all depends on whether you prioritize yourself as an individual most, or whether you are more focused on how you appear to others. For me, my internal personal life has always been more important than the way others perceive me, how ‘popular’ I am or what a ‘good’ impression others have of me. In the end, I prefer having some friends who care for me for who I really am, than many acquaintances who might hang out with me for any fake ‘persona’ I might project. At least I know that those who love me, love me. In all my silly, eccentric, weird singularity.

Quoting one of (in my opinion) the greatest fantasy writers of all time:

“My immagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world and exiles me from it.”
Ursula K. Le Guin

Are ppl natural Assholes or is it just Instinct?

What’s the difference between someone who cares for you and someone who’s only using you for his self-serving needs?

Have you ever realized that some of your so-called friends only invite you to go out with them when they have no one else? Or perhaps, that certain people only remember to ask you if you want to meet up when they don’t have a lift? I bet this has happened to anyone.

As I have grown older, I have come to realize more and more how people in general use others. It might be that they are not even aware of it. Maybe they are doing it subconsciously. And yet, magically, as soon as they break up or as soon as their best friend is in a new relationship – there they are again, messaging you to ask what you’re doing during the weekend, or asking whether you’d like to come over for a glass of wine. Sounds familiar?

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And so I ask myself – is everyone really that self-serving? How can one know whether a particular person likes you for YOU, because they enjoy your company – or whether they just need someone, anyone, just to assuage their loneliness or feelings of low self-esteem? Maybe they just want an audience.

And then, suddenly, perhaps it’s you who needs them once in a while – perhaps you are sick, or just down – and what happens? They don’t even bother to ask you what’s wrong, let alone actually care. The only thing they notice is that you’re not there to listen to them anymore, without ever wondering if, for once, it’s you who needs a listening ear or a helping hand. Talk about one-sided.

Or maybe, you might be thinking, I might be too cynical… maybe I just know all the wrong people… right? Thing is, have I known all the wrong people for all the years of my life?

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Maybe it’s just survival instinct. In the end – people are mammals. Our key instinct is to reproduce in order to propagate our genes. And no this has nothing to do with maternal or paternal instinct – of which I have none. It’s simple genetic programming which is found in everyone. Our genes and bodies want to copulate in order for them to propagate. On the other hand, it is our brains which govern our actions. Therefore in my case, I have decided I DO NOT want children. I never wanted children, not even when I was a child myself. Lol so much for maternal instinct.

Anyways, as I was saying, our bodies and genes are programmed to procreate – meaning that they are programmed to feel the need for a mate. That need is what, willy nilly, spurns us on to go out, meet new people, and see if we can click with any of them. It is this sense of survival perhaps, which kicks in when people start using others, in order to get a lift, or to have company, or to hang on to.

Or is it?

Have I lost my faith in humanity, or am I merely trying to find an excuse for these ppl? And if so, why on earth should I?

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Have my Friends Forgotten Me?

Lately, it feels as if I have forgotten how to talk to people.

2015 was an enormously hectic and stressful year (though joyful too). I focused most of my time on my relationship with my boyfriend, on buying property and then later on refurbishing and moving into said property.

Now, in 2016, I suddenly realize that while my life was evolving and going forward in leaps and bounds, in a certain way, I also lost another part of it – the social part.

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As happens to many people when in a stable relationship, slowly but inexorably, most of my friends seem to have faded away from my life, becoming mere shady beings in the corner of my memory. I admit, yes, there were many invitations I turned down. Many girls nights out which I couldn’t go to. Many rain checks on my part. Many tired evenings when I simply did not have the will or the energy to dress up, put on make up and heels, and go dancing and drinking for some 5 or 6 hours. Which is the reason, perhaps, why so many people slowly disappeared from my life.

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These were mostly the fun-buddies – those many friends and acquaintances you have fun with during weekends. The drinking-buddies, dance-partners, funny friends I got drunk with in the small hours of the morning after having written fire and thunder all over the dance-floor.

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I missed out on all of this in 2015, simply because my energy, my time and my money were invested into something else. Which is why, at this moment in time, when I am finally taking a deep breath and looking around me, I am realizing that I am (almost) alone friends-wise.

Not all my friends have disappeared, but those with whom I am daily (or weekly) in contact, are mainly those who are in my same situation in life – that is, couples, people who are shacking up and buying a house together, or young parents.

Is this good, or is this bad? I miss those fun times, however at this point I think that to a certain extent they will never come again.
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Why? Because I’d rather not spend 50 euros (to say the least) on alcohol each evening and invest that money on my house, or save it up for travelling instead. Also because, I freely admit, many of these ‘friends’ I used to have so many good times with were either opportunists, hypocrites, people who wanted to get in my pants, or simply people who were there when everything was nice and happy, but disappeared whenever there was a problem – which I can well do without.

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So, part of me wants to go back and find those ‘friends’ I used to have. Go back to drinking and carousing with no limits. And another part of me wants to just go forward and find new friends who, instead of wasting money getting drunk and partying, would be content to enjoy my company during a DVD night or a picnic, and then later on, have enough money saved up to go on an extended holiday to Scotland or Hong Kong.

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What do you think? Am I getting old before my time, or is this just common sense?

Wanted – GAY MALE BEST FRIEND! Apply here!!

I wish I had a gay-guy best friend!

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Ok, this might sound kinda weird with labeling-overtones, but really, let me explain what I mean.

Yesterday, one of my colleagues, a very extrovert, bouncy, happy-go-lucky and vociferously gay young man, who is also a local media personality, being a singer and an amateur ‘magician’, told me I have ‘nice breasts’. Now, seriously, apart from boyfriends/dates/interested males who wanted sexual favors or other stuff from me, and who appreciated my boobs, but definitely did not use the word ‘nice’ NO FEMALE friend would ever compliment another female on her boobs. Except if she was asked at point blank of course, when she would probably say ‘You have a nice figure’, but not ‘You have nice boobs’.

See, female friends are complicated that way! They try to be friendly and helpful, without being bitchy or pushy, they try to give advice without seeming to, and give compliments while trying at least to appear ‘neutral’, that is to show that the compliment is being given because they really believe it, and not because they like you and are therefore trying to be nice – which is actually most often the case anyways. Female friends walk a thin line, being always aware that the smallest gesture or comment could be classified by the other female as a pointer to envy.

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On the other hand, I have yet to encounter a male, ‘friend’ or otherwise, who is totally honest when he comments about a girl physically. A male would either mutter, flutter and then finally say it’s ‘ok’, lather on lavish compliments in order to get something out of you, twist the question into a joke, or escape the quandary altogether by telling you to ask someone else, since he:
a) is too in love with you to be objective
b) does not know about fashion or ‘things like that’
c) looks at you blankly and ask you what’s different from last time

*SIGH*

A gay male friend on the other hand, would not only be blatantly (and sometimes cruelly) honest, but would tell you why in great detail, while giving you tips on how to improve the situation. He would not jump to conclusions, try to get out of the issue, or be afraid of ‘hurting your feelings’. He would not even think that you might think he’s envious (as most female friends do) or that you are asking merely for him to be nice. Basically, he’d have the honesty of a guy, but the interest in the subject a girl usually has.

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Rant apart – unfortunately I have never been so blessed as to have a gay male bestie (or GMBFF). I had a couple of gay male friends, or acquaintances, and dated a couple of guys who were bi, but it’s not the same thing. A BEST FRIEND has the impetus and knows you well enough to actually be honest and intimate with you, in a way that an acquaintance, obviously, cannot.

Am I just being too optimistic in my estimate or what? 

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Missing the cottage… yes more about Ireland ;p

When you live in a European island which is famed for its sun and beaches, where 9 months out of 12 you are sweating in the too-warm temperatures while wearing a sleeveless top and flip flops, and where it has only snowed a couple of times (literally) in the historical memory of the place, going on holiday somewhere in the mountains where the temperature habitually varies between -1.5 and 3.5 degrees celsius on a good day IS A BIG DEAL.

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In all of my life, I have never seen snow yet, not even when abroad more’s the pity – I have never been in extremely cold temperatures, not even when I visited the Dolomite mountains, and I have never been skiing. As an islander who takes hot weather, days at the beach, ice cream, and fun in the sun, as an everyday occurence, I can hardly imagine what living in such weather could be like.

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Right now, anyone reading this who actually does live somewhere cold, must think I’m crazy to want to experience such a thing. But really, I think one of the goals in life is to experience as much as possible, so living somewhere different in different conditions, is for me, something to do at least once.

Although I did not see and feel snow on my face and around me in Ireland this December, it WAS an experience. I literally froze my fingers off at times, still, coming to our rented self-catering cottage in the evenings, lighting the stove, and huddling under the blankets while sipping some hot tea, was awesome in itself. Something I had read about only in novels.

Our cottage was just lovely. Really small – having only one bedroom, one bathroom, a living room and a kitchen, yet totally perfect.

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Here is the link to its page on Tripadvisor – my review is actually still pending as of now, but I guess you might be able to read it at a later date – I left a 5-star rating ofc!

http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/VacationRentalReview-g212097-d2222755-THE_GRANARY_country_holiday_cottage_with_open_fire_in_Cahir_Ref_8661-Cahir_County_Tipp.html

When the weather is so unkind, finding a little unlooked for friendliness gives one an unconditioned and natural warmth, one which is only to be felt in the heart. We arrived at the cottage on a very cold morning at around 1.30am. We had had no time to buy any food for our breakfast and expected our arrival to be pretty hard, since the owner was leaving us the key in a flower pot near the door. We were so wrong! As we parked, we could see the flickering welcoming light of the stove in the living room and the lampshade near the sofa sending us a cheery light – the owner had prepared them for us to show us the way and keep the place warm.

Also, when we went in, we realized she had left us some home-made scones for our breakfast togather with some butter, jam, tea, coffee, sugar and milk… it felt so good to know that someone cared for us in a country were we did not know anyone! Small touches of welcome and friendship from someone we did not know were so much welcome. 🙂

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