photojojo:

What do you do when you’ve just moved and you’re awash in cardboard boxes? Create mock movie sets of course! 

Lilly and Leon use household objects and leftover boxes to recreate famous movie scenes with their son Orson. 

Welcome to the Cardboard Box Office

via IO9

(via feelingfickle)

The Inevitable post about the New Year.
I was going to write this long rambling bit about how 2013 was awe-inspiring and how I want that and so much more for 2014, but instead all I am going to say is this:
Life isn’t about making and breaking resolutions once a year. It shouldn’t be divided into 12 month segments and remembered as a sequence of numbers. 2013 was a mix of both excellent times and horrible times and amazing adventures and eye opening challenges. I expect 2014, and every other year, for that matter, to be the same. So instead of writing an unrealistic list of goals for 2014, I have just the one:
Live life to its absolute fillest. Everyday. Always. No regrets.

The Inevitable post about the New Year.

I was going to write this long rambling bit about how 2013 was awe-inspiring and how I want that and so much more for 2014, but instead all I am going to say is this:

Life isn’t about making and breaking resolutions once a year. It shouldn’t be divided into 12 month segments and remembered as a sequence of numbers. 2013 was a mix of both excellent times and horrible times and amazing adventures and eye opening challenges. I expect 2014, and every other year, for that matter, to be the same. So instead of writing an unrealistic list of goals for 2014, I have just the one:

Live life to its absolute fillest. Everyday. Always. No regrets.

(Source: magnetic-pathetic)

This Christmas I am being a bit of hermit. Skyping the family, drinking some eggnog, watching Love Actually and hiding out inside, snuggled up next to our lit up Christmas tree and reading a good book. The only thing that could make this holiday any better would be if it started to snow again on Christmas day. Fingers crossed.
Happy Holidays, everyone.

This Christmas I am being a bit of hermit. Skyping the family, drinking some eggnog, watching Love Actually and hiding out inside, snuggled up next to our lit up Christmas tree and reading a good book. The only thing that could make this holiday any better would be if it started to snow again on Christmas day. Fingers crossed.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

(Source: irenesire)

A Guide to Surviving Winter (For those of us who aren’t from Winter Countries)
For those of you who were born in this wintery wonderland, please ignore this post. For those of you who, like me, hail from a warmer climate and were brought up believing Canadian winters are a picturesque “christmas card” kind of thing, read on:
1. Onions have layers, so should you
In Melbourne, for example, winter isn’t a huge deal. Yeah, it gets a bit nippy, and the rain is a bummer, but for the most part it’s bearable. Melbourne winters are akin to mild Canadian Autumns. It’s easy to look stylish, because a reasonable coat and a decent brolly is all you need. In Canada- this is not the case. When the weather drops below zero (and I mean way way below zero) you’re going to need more than a nice coat. In Halifax, add the fact that you’re most likely going to face chilly weather with bits of ice and rain and snow all swirling about, and you need to think about waterproofing your layers too. Fashion goes out the window, with most people resembling Russian peasants crossed with arctic explorers. Thermal vests, jumpers, cardigans, infinity scarves tucked into your jacket, a warm jacket and then a toasty raincoat or coat, thick mittens, a full beanie (or Toque, as the locals call it), ear muffs, and sunglasses if the snow glare is really bad. And that’s just a normal chilly day. You might look like a puffy school kid, but the alternative is having your ears freeze off, so choice is yours.
2. Snow is pretty, sleet is not
Before I moved to Canada, I had the same idea about snow as pretty much everyone else from the Southern Hemisphere: it’s pretty and white and soft and heavenly. I was wrong.
When snow is falling, it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. Downtown, for a brief little while it’s like the whole city becomes this sleepy town covered in a blanket of white. But then pedestrians trudge it into the ground, plows push it into mounds which grey with dirt and polution, and it goes from being a white blanket to a grey and miserable mess.
In Halifax, which has milder weather than most of inland Canada, barring maybe Toronto which is quite south, snow doesn’t last long. After maybe a few days of snow, the weather goes up, the snow turns to slush, and next thing you’re sloshing your way to work through puddles of what I can only describe as grey coloured Slurpee.
3. Black Ice is terrifying. The invisible enemy, if you will.
Here’s the thing about Halifax, and maybe other parts of Canada, maybe? It snows, it’s pretty, then it gets trudged into compact snow on the pavement by pedestrians, the weather warms up, it rains a bit, covering the snow in rain, maybe even melting some of it, forming puddles; then the weather drops again, sometimes by 15 degrees in the span of a few hours, and suddenly all of the rain and puddles freeze, and turn into solid, slippery ice. So basically one minute you’re walking through a snowy winter wonderland, the next you’re slipping on ice and cracking you head open on the road/pavement. I’m not even kidding, it’s terrifying. If you’re here long enough, you will definitely hear stories, or even slip once or twice yourself. Be careful. Buy those thingamabobs you put on your shoes if you want, but don’t slip- because I’m almost certain basic travel insurance won’t cover it.
4. Do as the locals do, but with a pinch of salt
My friends are Canadian, and from even colder cities than Halifax (which isn’t saying much because pretty much everywhere in Canada, except maybe Vancouver, is colder than Halifax) they are used to winter, in fact, you could say they thrive in it. There is a lot you can learn from friends and canuck locals- from how to dress appropriately, where to buy winter goods at a better price, how to salt your driveway and pavement properly, the best soup recipe’s, etc. But one thing you need to remember is that you aren’t Canadian. Whilst your Canuck friends might be able to wear a tshirt and flip flops when it’s -1 outside, you probably can’t do the same without catching a nasty cold and cursing profusely into your third cup of Lemsip. Another thing to bare in mind is that your winterized friends mean no harm when they tease you for constantly saying “My god, it is so cold,” or when you are the one wearing several more layers than anyone else. They’re used to the extreme cold, but you aren’t, and that’s okay. Enjoy the novelty of a snowy winter before it wears off, and just remember, when they visit you in Australia one day, it will be you having the last laugh as they melt in the scorching Southern Hemisphere heatwaves. ;)

A Guide to Surviving Winter (For those of us who aren’t from Winter Countries)

For those of you who were born in this wintery wonderland, please ignore this post. For those of you who, like me, hail from a warmer climate and were brought up believing Canadian winters are a picturesque “christmas card” kind of thing, read on:

1. Onions have layers, so should you

In Melbourne, for example, winter isn’t a huge deal. Yeah, it gets a bit nippy, and the rain is a bummer, but for the most part it’s bearable. Melbourne winters are akin to mild Canadian Autumns. It’s easy to look stylish, because a reasonable coat and a decent brolly is all you need. In Canada- this is not the case. When the weather drops below zero (and I mean way way below zero) you’re going to need more than a nice coat. In Halifax, add the fact that you’re most likely going to face chilly weather with bits of ice and rain and snow all swirling about, and you need to think about waterproofing your layers too. Fashion goes out the window, with most people resembling Russian peasants crossed with arctic explorers. Thermal vests, jumpers, cardigans, infinity scarves tucked into your jacket, a warm jacket and then a toasty raincoat or coat, thick mittens, a full beanie (or Toque, as the locals call it), ear muffs, and sunglasses if the snow glare is really bad. And that’s just a normal chilly day. You might look like a puffy school kid, but the alternative is having your ears freeze off, so choice is yours.

2. Snow is pretty, sleet is not

Before I moved to Canada, I had the same idea about snow as pretty much everyone else from the Southern Hemisphere: it’s pretty and white and soft and heavenly. I was wrong.

When snow is falling, it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. Downtown, for a brief little while it’s like the whole city becomes this sleepy town covered in a blanket of white. But then pedestrians trudge it into the ground, plows push it into mounds which grey with dirt and polution, and it goes from being a white blanket to a grey and miserable mess.

In Halifax, which has milder weather than most of inland Canada, barring maybe Toronto which is quite south, snow doesn’t last long. After maybe a few days of snow, the weather goes up, the snow turns to slush, and next thing you’re sloshing your way to work through puddles of what I can only describe as grey coloured Slurpee.

3. Black Ice is terrifying. The invisible enemy, if you will.

Here’s the thing about Halifax, and maybe other parts of Canada, maybe? It snows, it’s pretty, then it gets trudged into compact snow on the pavement by pedestrians, the weather warms up, it rains a bit, covering the snow in rain, maybe even melting some of it, forming puddles; then the weather drops again, sometimes by 15 degrees in the span of a few hours, and suddenly all of the rain and puddles freeze, and turn into solid, slippery ice. So basically one minute you’re walking through a snowy winter wonderland, the next you’re slipping on ice and cracking you head open on the road/pavement. I’m not even kidding, it’s terrifying. If you’re here long enough, you will definitely hear stories, or even slip once or twice yourself. Be careful. Buy those thingamabobs you put on your shoes if you want, but don’t slip- because I’m almost certain basic travel insurance won’t cover it.

4. Do as the locals do, but with a pinch of salt

My friends are Canadian, and from even colder cities than Halifax (which isn’t saying much because pretty much everywhere in Canada, except maybe Vancouver, is colder than Halifax) they are used to winter, in fact, you could say they thrive in it. There is a lot you can learn from friends and canuck locals- from how to dress appropriately, where to buy winter goods at a better price, how to salt your driveway and pavement properly, the best soup recipe’s, etc. But one thing you need to remember is that you aren’t Canadian. Whilst your Canuck friends might be able to wear a tshirt and flip flops when it’s -1 outside, you probably can’t do the same without catching a nasty cold and cursing profusely into your third cup of Lemsip. Another thing to bare in mind is that your winterized friends mean no harm when they tease you for constantly saying “My god, it is so cold,” or when you are the one wearing several more layers than anyone else. They’re used to the extreme cold, but you aren’t, and that’s okay. Enjoy the novelty of a snowy winter before it wears off, and just remember, when they visit you in Australia one day, it will be you having the last laugh as they melt in the scorching Southern Hemisphere heatwaves. ;)

(Source: speravotuesistessi)

This blog entry was inspired by the recent Marie Claire article on tourist deaths in Laos. Read it, here.
How Sometimes I’m Embarrassed to be a Tourist (Or “No, thank you, I don’t want a photo with your monkey”)
Remember that saying “Be a traveler, not a tourist”? Well it’s true. Tourists are the walking, breathing, beer guzzling reminders of everything that is wrong with Western society. To a tourist, anything and everything is built purely to entertain. Nothing is off limits, and they’ll pay large sums of money to get what they want.
Tourists flock to foreign lands and spend millions at resorts and spas. They take advantage of the exchange rate, and think little of the way their spending affects the local community. It’s a sad truth that a lot of people aren’t willing to face.
"But tourism is good for the local community," they argue. Is it? What hard evidence is there to back this comment? The truth is, aside from sustainable tourism endevours and "grassroots" programs, a lot of tourism is actually detrimental to other cultures. How? well for one- tourism provides a fake lifestyle, designed to suit the tourist, not the local. Pristine infinity pools, cheap cocktails, live entertainment in a variety of sorts. Harmless on the surface, but when you look a little harder, it isn’t difficult to see where things get dark…
One example is animal abuse and exploitation. Scenario: You’re in Thailand, and you pay a meagre 500 Baht to spend the day at the zoo. The zoo is actually a horror show of run down cages, filled with drugged animals on chains, and tour guides that are not only exhausted from 12 hour shifts, but also have no proper training. But, how often do you get to see a tiger in such close proximity? So you pay the additional 200 Baht, crouch down next to the chained beast and get your photo taken. Then you walk away saying it’s animal cruelty but that it’s not your fault, it’s theirs. wrong.
See, when you fork out the money for such tacky souvineers and photographs, you’re providing an income for someone, and they see this as a money making opportunity. For the tourguide or zookeeper, this money means food on his table, or a pair of shoes for his son. The sad reality is, however, that the zookeeper isn’t the one raking in the profits. Tourism is a pyramid scheme comprised of resort-owning fat cats, and minimum wage employees. Your souvineer spending is not filling the pockets you think it is. Problem is, if you’re willing to pay, there will always be someone willing to exploit the animal. This isn’t just in Asia, either. Canned hunting opportunities in South Africa are another example. We can hate Melissa Bachman as much as we want, but the reality is that someone local provided her with the opportunity to flaunt her cowardice, and pay a pretty penny for it, too. The only way animal rights can be asserted is if tourists stop seeing foreign wildlife as their own entertainment and rather pay for sustainable, ecological tourist opportunities instead. If there is no demand for animals in cages, people will stop putting animals in cages, it’s that simple.
The same can be said for human exploitation, although the solution is a much more complicated one. Prostitution rings, strip joints, Ping Pong shows, they’re all exploiting women that are unlikely to see more than maybe 5% of the money that pours into this industry at best. But to the average drunken tourist, it is hard to remember that it’s a person standing on that stage, and not just a fun night in a foreign land or an exotic notch on the bedpost.
The article above highlights another problem with tourism in developing nations: spoilt students that basically flock to resorts purely to drink themselves into a stupor. Not only is it unbelievably dangerous for a multitude of reasons, but it’s embarrassing. You’re stomping all over somebody’s culture by getting as beligerently drunk as possible and throwing your name away in their cities or towns. Have some respect. For example, in Thailand most of the locals are very conservative. They’re humble and have strict rules about social etiquette. Unfortunately though, because of the popular tourist hotspots and the risque nature of the industry, you can often find Thai vendors sporting innapropriate attire, or selling bracelets and shirts riddled with profanities it’s unlikely they even understand.
So, instead of being an obnoxious tourist, remember that these cultures and environments are not purely here for your entertainment. There is nothing wrong with exploring a foreign society or world, but remember that this holiday spot is somebody else’s home. Remember that the wildlife you admire in awe won’t last if it keeps being exploited. Travel with an open mind and a willingness, sure, but with self control and respect, too.

This blog entry was inspired by the recent Marie Claire article on tourist deaths in Laos. Read it, here.

How Sometimes I’m Embarrassed to be a Tourist (Or “No, thank you, I don’t want a photo with your monkey”)

Remember that saying “Be a traveler, not a tourist”? Well it’s true. Tourists are the walking, breathing, beer guzzling reminders of everything that is wrong with Western society. To a tourist, anything and everything is built purely to entertain. Nothing is off limits, and they’ll pay large sums of money to get what they want.

Tourists flock to foreign lands and spend millions at resorts and spas. They take advantage of the exchange rate, and think little of the way their spending affects the local community. It’s a sad truth that a lot of people aren’t willing to face.

"But tourism is good for the local community," they argue. Is it? What hard evidence is there to back this comment? The truth is, aside from sustainable tourism endevours and "grassroots" programs, a lot of tourism is actually detrimental to other cultures. How? well for one- tourism provides a fake lifestyle, designed to suit the tourist, not the local. Pristine infinity pools, cheap cocktails, live entertainment in a variety of sorts. Harmless on the surface, but when you look a little harder, it isn’t difficult to see where things get dark…

One example is animal abuse and exploitation. Scenario: You’re in Thailand, and you pay a meagre 500 Baht to spend the day at the zoo. The zoo is actually a horror show of run down cages, filled with drugged animals on chains, and tour guides that are not only exhausted from 12 hour shifts, but also have no proper training. But, how often do you get to see a tiger in such close proximity? So you pay the additional 200 Baht, crouch down next to the chained beast and get your photo taken. Then you walk away saying it’s animal cruelty but that it’s not your fault, it’s theirs. wrong.

See, when you fork out the money for such tacky souvineers and photographs, you’re providing an income for someone, and they see this as a money making opportunity. For the tourguide or zookeeper, this money means food on his table, or a pair of shoes for his son. The sad reality is, however, that the zookeeper isn’t the one raking in the profits. Tourism is a pyramid scheme comprised of resort-owning fat cats, and minimum wage employees. Your souvineer spending is not filling the pockets you think it is. Problem is, if you’re willing to pay, there will always be someone willing to exploit the animal. This isn’t just in Asia, either. Canned hunting opportunities in South Africa are another example. We can hate Melissa Bachman as much as we want, but the reality is that someone local provided her with the opportunity to flaunt her cowardice, and pay a pretty penny for it, too. The only way animal rights can be asserted is if tourists stop seeing foreign wildlife as their own entertainment and rather pay for sustainable, ecological tourist opportunities instead. If there is no demand for animals in cages, people will stop putting animals in cages, it’s that simple.

The same can be said for human exploitation, although the solution is a much more complicated one. Prostitution rings, strip joints, Ping Pong shows, they’re all exploiting women that are unlikely to see more than maybe 5% of the money that pours into this industry at best. But to the average drunken tourist, it is hard to remember that it’s a person standing on that stage, and not just a fun night in a foreign land or an exotic notch on the bedpost.

The article above highlights another problem with tourism in developing nations: spoilt students that basically flock to resorts purely to drink themselves into a stupor. Not only is it unbelievably dangerous for a multitude of reasons, but it’s embarrassing. You’re stomping all over somebody’s culture by getting as beligerently drunk as possible and throwing your name away in their cities or towns. Have some respect. For example, in Thailand most of the locals are very conservative. They’re humble and have strict rules about social etiquette. Unfortunately though, because of the popular tourist hotspots and the risque nature of the industry, you can often find Thai vendors sporting innapropriate attire, or selling bracelets and shirts riddled with profanities it’s unlikely they even understand.

So, instead of being an obnoxious tourist, remember that these cultures and environments are not purely here for your entertainment. There is nothing wrong with exploring a foreign society or world, but remember that this holiday spot is somebody else’s home. Remember that the wildlife you admire in awe won’t last if it keeps being exploited. Travel with an open mind and a willingness, sure, but with self control and respect, too.


You See These Red Wine Lips, They Didn’t Dream Up This (Or My Christmas Challenge)
Remember how I said that part of 2013 was to try new things and take a leap into the unknown? Well this December I decided to add another item to the list. I wore red lipstick for the first time. See, I don’t usually wear a lot of make up. A bit of blush, a quick swipe of liner, and a little mascara, and that’s about it.
Well, this past week I attended a Christmas party, and decided to be extra festive by wearing a bold red hue. I was nervous- I don’t quite have the pout for lipstick, and I haven’t really worn it before- but I figured, why the hell not? and do you know what? I loved it. It’s amazing how a little bit of colour can change so much, create so much confidence.
I’ll definitely be rocking red lips more often this festive season. Look out, boys.

You See These Red Wine Lips, They Didn’t Dream Up This (Or My Christmas Challenge)

Remember how I said that part of 2013 was to try new things and take a leap into the unknown? Well this December I decided to add another item to the list. I wore red lipstick for the first time. See, I don’t usually wear a lot of make up. A bit of blush, a quick swipe of liner, and a little mascara, and that’s about it.

Well, this past week I attended a Christmas party, and decided to be extra festive by wearing a bold red hue. I was nervous- I don’t quite have the pout for lipstick, and I haven’t really worn it before- but I figured, why the hell not? and do you know what? I loved it. It’s amazing how a little bit of colour can change so much, create so much confidence.

I’ll definitely be rocking red lips more often this festive season. Look out, boys.

(Source: katasstrophey)

"No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."

— Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom (via manufactoriel)

Today:
Today I am happy that I own a decent pair of rainboots (extra happy that these have polka dots on them)
I am glad that I went to the library and took out 6 books instead of one, so now I have plenty read during the rainstorm.
I am contemplating adding the raspberry and poppy dressing I found to everything I cook because it is delicious.
I am reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower (because it has to be even better than the film).
Today is a good day.
Even if it’s pouring and windy outside.

Today:

Today I am happy that I own a decent pair of rainboots (extra happy that these have polka dots on them)

I am glad that I went to the library and took out 6 books instead of one, so now I have plenty read during the rainstorm.

I am contemplating adding the raspberry and poppy dressing I found to everything I cook because it is delicious.

I am reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower (because it has to be even better than the film).

Today is a good day.

Even if it’s pouring and windy outside.

(Source: danicailieva)

wetheurban:

ART: 2D or not 2D by Alexander Khokhlov

’2D or not 2D’? That is the question that Russian photographer Alexander Khokhlov and makeup artist Valeriya Kutsan pose to us in their new photographic series. Footage + more after the jump:

Read More

(via wetheurban)

Why Online Dating Gives Me the Heeby Jeebies
So, as part of the whole “2013, Doing New Things” endevour, I briefly contemplated online dating. I figured, it’s 2013, technology is all spiffy and modern, and online dating seems like a fad that is here to stay. I also figured it would be an interesting way to kill time at work and procrastinate.
I’m not really looking for any kind of relationship, and I prefer to meet men the old fashioned way (Irish pub, beer in hand) but this year has been all about pushing my limits and experiences, so I figured, why not? I have some friends who claim they have had great success with online dating, too.
Haha, well. Shortlived success, really.
So I decided to log onto a local “match” website, that caters for singles in the Halifax area. I didn’t even get to the “sign up” page before I lost all interest in the idea and decided I’m never going to be able to meet people online, no matter how old-fashioned that makes me. Here’s Why:
1. I am a grammar snob. No, no, don’t get me wrong, my grammar is far from perfect, sure. I have no doubt that there are plenty of you out there reading this and judging me for my poor grasp of comma usage, no doubt. BUT SPELLING YOUR AND YOU’RE WRONG IS UNFORGIVABLE. I don’t care how handsome, how rich, how down to earth you are, if YOUR basic grasp of English grammar is poor, YOU’RE out of luck. Sadly, this applies to nearly all of the entries I found on the match website.
2. Your username is worrying. On my search for online love (or a way to stay awake during the graveyard shift) I encountered a lot of men with very ominous usernames. No, iTakeItTooFar, I do not want to meet you. Nor do I think I will be messaging NoMeans…. , because I’m sorry that this still has to be said, but no only ever means no. And on the off chance that I have interpreted your name wrong, then ask yourself, why pick such a damn misleading name then?
3. I’m a pessimist. Yes, I just admitted I thought about joining online dating for a laugh, and when one of these guys says the same, I should believe him. But I don’t. I instantly think, “If you’ve resorted to meeting people online, you must really have problems meeting people in reality?” and I immediately categorise them all as serial killers, perverts or sufferers of BO.
4. Body language says more than any emoticon ever could. You know how when you’re out and you meet someone, you get that vibe that you might hit it off? It goes beyond conversation or flirting, it’s like you feel comfortable around the person. Certain gestures, like stroking your neck, or biting your lip- they all reveal what talking can hide: whether or not a person is genuinely interested, and whether or not there is any chemistry or sexual tension. This is probably the most important factor of dating as far as I am concerned, because if you don’t have chemistry, it is just downright awk.ward.
So, nah, I think I’ll be skipping the online dating game. Sorry, boys ;)

Why Online Dating Gives Me the Heeby Jeebies

So, as part of the whole “2013, Doing New Things” endevour, I briefly contemplated online dating. I figured, it’s 2013, technology is all spiffy and modern, and online dating seems like a fad that is here to stay. I also figured it would be an interesting way to kill time at work and procrastinate.

I’m not really looking for any kind of relationship, and I prefer to meet men the old fashioned way (Irish pub, beer in hand) but this year has been all about pushing my limits and experiences, so I figured, why not? I have some friends who claim they have had great success with online dating, too.

Haha, well. Shortlived success, really.

So I decided to log onto a local “match” website, that caters for singles in the Halifax area. I didn’t even get to the “sign up” page before I lost all interest in the idea and decided I’m never going to be able to meet people online, no matter how old-fashioned that makes me. Here’s Why:

1. I am a grammar snob. No, no, don’t get me wrong, my grammar is far from perfect, sure. I have no doubt that there are plenty of you out there reading this and judging me for my poor grasp of comma usage, no doubt. BUT SPELLING YOUR AND YOU’RE WRONG IS UNFORGIVABLE. I don’t care how handsome, how rich, how down to earth you are, if YOUR basic grasp of English grammar is poor, YOU’RE out of luck. Sadly, this applies to nearly all of the entries I found on the match website.

2. Your username is worrying. On my search for online love (or a way to stay awake during the graveyard shift) I encountered a lot of men with very ominous usernames. No, iTakeItTooFar, I do not want to meet you. Nor do I think I will be messaging NoMeans…. , because I’m sorry that this still has to be said, but no only ever means no. And on the off chance that I have interpreted your name wrong, then ask yourself, why pick such a damn misleading name then?

3. I’m a pessimist. Yes, I just admitted I thought about joining online dating for a laugh, and when one of these guys says the same, I should believe him. But I don’t. I instantly think, “If you’ve resorted to meeting people online, you must really have problems meeting people in reality?” and I immediately categorise them all as serial killers, perverts or sufferers of BO.

4. Body language says more than any emoticon ever could. You know how when you’re out and you meet someone, you get that vibe that you might hit it off? It goes beyond conversation or flirting, it’s like you feel comfortable around the person. Certain gestures, like stroking your neck, or biting your lip- they all reveal what talking can hide: whether or not a person is genuinely interested, and whether or not there is any chemistry or sexual tension. This is probably the most important factor of dating as far as I am concerned, because if you don’t have chemistry, it is just downright awk.ward.

So, nah, I think I’ll be skipping the online dating game. Sorry, boys ;)

(Source: okaystuupid)

I turn 25 today. 25. Quarter of a century, as people are kind enough to keep reminding me. It’s scary. 25. I don’t know how I feel about it. 25. rolls off the tongue. 25. Am I where I should be at 25? Probably not. Am I happy with what I’ve done with these 25 years? Reasonably so. 25.
It’s just an age. It’s just a time stamp. It’s just a milestone. 25.

I turn 25 today. 25. Quarter of a century, as people are kind enough to keep reminding me. It’s scary. 25. I don’t know how I feel about it. 25. rolls off the tongue. 25. Am I where I should be at 25? Probably not. Am I happy with what I’ve done with these 25 years? Reasonably so. 25.

It’s just an age. It’s just a time stamp. It’s just a milestone. 25.

(Source: onethingbeautiful)

The Curse of The Long Distance Love Affair (Or Why I’m Not Dating for a While)
Everybody has a type. For some of us, it’s a guy who wears a leather jacket and leaves cigarette burns on our sheets. For others it’s the deadbeat that just needs saving. For me, it’s the guy that doesn’t share the same area code.
Ever since my first serious boyfriend in high school, I have some how wound up in a long distance relationship/love mess in one way or another. Either I have been the one to leave, or he has. And instead of using hindsight and ending things when one of us says goodbye, I’ve clung on to the remnants of our relationships in the hopes that somewhere along the line we’ll be united again. I’ve skyped at odd hours of the night (thanks to time zones), I’ve sent letters, I’ve recieved drunken texts while I was on my morning commute (again, timezones, what a laugh) and I’ve contemplated relocating to be with the person I’ve cared about.
But it’s all a waste of time. I’m going to be brutally honest with you- long distance does not work. It should, and if we were all shiny happy people, it very well could. But it doesn’t. Because no matter how much you think you love someone, you will eventually get tired of dating your mobile phone. You will crave human intimacy that you cannot get via skype. You will miss body language, random dates, and the spontaniety that normal relationships have. If you’ve met someone that tells you long distance can work- they’re either lying, or they’re a very small exception to a very simple rule: long distance relationships are doomed.
I try to keep this in mind whilst I travel, but it’s hard. I can’t control who I connect with, and because I’ve stayed in hostels, moved from city to city, and befriended people from all over the world, I can’t control where the guy I connect with is from, either.
It’s a repetitive case of I meet someone, we hit it off, we exchange details, we depart. We keep in touch, we get along, we flirt.We send the occasional text. We cross paths on our travels. It’s all exhillirating and it’s all fun until eventually the emptiness of it becomes something I can’t ignore and I stop and ask “what’s the point of this?” and then the chemistry fizzles out and the intimacy dies, and I’m left with another story to tell and nothing else.
So I’m done with flirting with guys that don’t live within a several mile radius of where I am. I don’t care how awesome they are or how much I like them. It’s just an unfortunate waste of time. If this means that I’m not going to be dating for a while- so be it.

The Curse of The Long Distance Love Affair (Or Why I’m Not Dating for a While)

Everybody has a type. For some of us, it’s a guy who wears a leather jacket and leaves cigarette burns on our sheets. For others it’s the deadbeat that just needs saving. For me, it’s the guy that doesn’t share the same area code.

Ever since my first serious boyfriend in high school, I have some how wound up in a long distance relationship/love mess in one way or another. Either I have been the one to leave, or he has. And instead of using hindsight and ending things when one of us says goodbye, I’ve clung on to the remnants of our relationships in the hopes that somewhere along the line we’ll be united again. I’ve skyped at odd hours of the night (thanks to time zones), I’ve sent letters, I’ve recieved drunken texts while I was on my morning commute (again, timezones, what a laugh) and I’ve contemplated relocating to be with the person I’ve cared about.

But it’s all a waste of time. I’m going to be brutally honest with you- long distance does not work. It should, and if we were all shiny happy people, it very well could. But it doesn’t. Because no matter how much you think you love someone, you will eventually get tired of dating your mobile phone. You will crave human intimacy that you cannot get via skype. You will miss body language, random dates, and the spontaniety that normal relationships have. If you’ve met someone that tells you long distance can work- they’re either lying, or they’re a very small exception to a very simple rule: long distance relationships are doomed.

I try to keep this in mind whilst I travel, but it’s hard. I can’t control who I connect with, and because I’ve stayed in hostels, moved from city to city, and befriended people from all over the world, I can’t control where the guy I connect with is from, either.

It’s a repetitive case of I meet someone, we hit it off, we exchange details, we depart. We keep in touch, we get along, we flirt.We send the occasional text. We cross paths on our travels. It’s all exhillirating and it’s all fun until eventually the emptiness of it becomes something I can’t ignore and I stop and ask “what’s the point of this?” and then the chemistry fizzles out and the intimacy dies, and I’m left with another story to tell and nothing else.

So I’m done with flirting with guys that don’t live within a several mile radius of where I am. I don’t care how awesome they are or how much I like them. It’s just an unfortunate waste of time. If this means that I’m not going to be dating for a while- so be it.

(Source: ontwolanesof-freedom, via kaadri)