The Perks of being an anti-Valentine

Whether you call it "Single Awareness Day" or celebrate Valentine's Day for what it is, let me just ruin the day after V-Day with my bitter-single-woman ravings.
To be fair, it's not the worst time of year but nonetheless, it is up there with things like Hitler's birthday and I hate V-Day for two unorthodox (but right) reasons.

1. There's this expectancy that if you're in a relationship, you then have to get your partner a gift of some ostentatious standard; failure to do so results in your name being written on a blacklist composed by your partner and the pedantic people in society. It's horrible to think that perhaps one day I'll receive a teddy bear or a box of chocolates on any given February 14 simply because he felt as though he had to give it to me. Which is I suppose all in the name of good intentions, but if you're going to exhibit your love to someone in the form of a teddy (or anything, really), then why confine it to Valentine's Day, otherwise known as the day everyone else gives each other teddy bears. It's too mainstream and it puts pressure on your partner to do this for you when what they could be doing is surprising you with a teddy bear at any other given time of the year. Because if it's a gift on V-Day, it's normal. Then compare it to a gift on a random day and watch how quickly that becomes more romantic/spontaneous.
2. The commercialism and generic-ness behind the gift and date options. Much of the hatred of the motive behind this reason is due to the fact that everything that people adore about V-Day can be seen in movies and wherever you go in the shops. You cannot seem to go anywhere without being bombarded by discounts on flowers, chocolates, cuddly toys and sexy lingerie. For some people it must be nice to receive a beautiful flower or a new pair of knickers, but to this little pessimist, all that I can think of is all those people with lactose intolerance who cannot eat the chocolate they've been given. Or those who cannot hug the teddy or wear the knickers or smell the lilies because they will get a rash if they do. And the stereotype of going to a restaurant or a movie for the date... whatever happened to the romance found in something like hunting or something that is perhaps more sentimental or related to a passionate interest you share?
3. The bitter females (of any age) who are too single to afford a relationship. We live in an age where feminism is legal, and to have it is a symbol of empowerment. If this is the case, why is it that we see all these single ladies complaining via social media (or the public scowl on their face) about the fact that they either don't approve of the happy couples or the fact that V-Day pays little/no attention to the single Pringles? It's apparent that they haven't grasped that V-Day is almost exclusively a day for lovers. Solving the problem of V-Day is simple: create a holiday for singles where singles can give themselves gifts to celebrate how much they love themselves. Or does that sound too much like their everyday lives?

All the inane cuddling in the streets and those love quotes on Facebook and $5 cards surprisingly don't pose as an extreme source of personal irritation. In the long run, the public displays of sentiment bring with them this one advantage: like Christmas, they come but once a year. Then everyone, regardless of whether they celebrated or not, goes back to living their lives.

Happy post-V-Day to all the singles, the couples and all those in-between. There may be no romantic attachment between us, but I still love you all.

Sing Me To Sleep- a random thought

I hate waking up from vivid dreams.
The reality within the fiction is often so much more pleasant than the world in front of your closed eyelids. Within that fiction comes a certain freedom; where what is never said or done can be expressed in great clarity.
Often the world is prettier in dreams. The touch of a lover feels warmer and his scent could never be more aromatic. When you dance across a room, you can feel the world move around you.
And if perchance, you look outside and see the stars; they shine and twinkle much more than the meagre silver things that freckle the sky in the real world.

Sadly, we cannot dream forever. The alarm blares and the new day begins. And reality tears blissful fiction apart. With the laceration of that fiction comes a substitute that cannot be defeated. The substitute can be seen everywhere at any given time of the day; death, struggle, loss, humiliation, sickness, torture and the suffering of the world.
It is a dark place the world beyond the eyelids. Many beautiful things, but much darkness comes with this too. We are doomed to experience both the tragedies and comedies in life, and I suppose we must make the most of both performances.
But in all honesty, admit to yourself that you would live within the fictional world of your own dreams rather than wake up and face reality; where dreams only come true through means that aren't magical.

So I suppose that if you have the audacity to break into my bedroom,
You'll at least have the decency to sing me to sleep and dance with me in my dreams. 

Journey's End

So yesterday I finally got back from my holiday to London and Paris. To sum up my holiday in 1 sentence only; I have found my home.
My journey started with London (after 2 flights). As the plane descended I looked out the window and saw it all spread out below me; illuminated the most spectacular golden colour with the Thames weaving its way throughout the gold like smoke. Everything seemed so surreal and beautiful I began to weep with ecstasy.
Then once my feet actually touched the ground, a sense of home swept over me. Until then, I had never felt home in the expected places, and yet with this unexpection came the greatest sense of it ever.

Many sights were seen:

The British Museum

221B Baker Street (The Sherlock Holmes Museum)

Buckingham Palace

(Me with a police box/TARDIS outside of Earl's Court Station)

The Tower Of London

The Elizabeth Tower (Big Ben is the name of the bell inside it) and the Houses of Parliament

Kings Cross Station/Platform 9 3/4

Westminster Abbey

I also explored Whitechapel (Jack the Ripper) and saw places like Downing St, the art gallery where Skyfall was filmed, The London Museum, Hamley's, St Paul's Cathedral, St Bartholomews Hospital, the Ritz, Tower Bridge, Westminster Bridge and London Bridge. Aside from the number of people who smoke cigarettes, the most noticeable thing about London is how delightfully contagious the accents are. After about a day, my own twangy accent mellowed into something vaguely similar to BBC English, then after a day in Paris it was back to reality....

Nonetheless, Paris was one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Well, not on the first day. Upon boarding the Eurostar from St Pancras to Gare Du Nord, any knowledge I had of the French language seemed to disappear instantly, and by the time I arrived, I spoke French with the clarity of a mute.

But as the days went on and I was forced to actually talk to people, it became easier to talk and I got less nervous. And I suppose seeing beautiful sights such as the Louvre, Champs-Élyseés, the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Academie Nationale de Music, Notre Dame, Lover's Bridge and the Bastille monument make everything daunting seem less memorable.

Arc de Triomphe

From the top of the Arc.... best view ever!!

I look at this photo now and instead of seeing the beauty behind me, I can think only of how cold and wet my feet are

Mona Lisa

The Louvre; my most favourite part of the holiday, and my new favourite building

In front of Notre Dame. Inside it's all dark but the windows are the most beautiful colours

On the whole, this holiday was not so much a mere holiday, but something that highlighted two things:

• I know where I'm going to live one day
• I no longer feel like the child I can still claim to be at the movies (for cheaper admission)

The sudden feeling of maturity can only be attributed to the independence I felt whilst overseas. The first time one steps foot in a foreign country can seem incredibly daunting (and it is), but when you acclimatise to it all, you feel immense feelings of success. 

For me, the success came with how easy it was to get around London and Paris (much thanks needs to be given to the Underground and the Metropolitain) and after realising that I was getting around the country with more ease than my other traveling companions, it felt as if I'd emerged from a cocoon and opened my wings.

I'm going to need those wings this year. School has started and all my holiday adventures have had to come to an end. The reality has hit me again, but the memories linger on and the dream of returning to Europe has become a motivation.