Would you consider yourself more of an introvert or an extrovert? While I know it’s difficult to pin people neatly into specific categories (although it does make life easier, doesn’t it), I can comfortably say I am an ‘Introverted Extrovert.’ A Former pure Extrovert, my slow descent into Adulthood has seen me relish the comforts of nights in, pyjamas and regular unsocial events. However, what contradicts all of this ‘alone’ time is that usually I want Stag around for all of it. Deep down, I am my best, most motivated self when I am around others. And while I am so happy I’ve found a Life Partner who brings me joy and confidence, there are the occasional times when I’m — gasp — left alone. Such as this upcoming bank holiday weekend.
Happy Weaster everyone! Yes, that is the adorable nickname that Stag has given the gloriously epic occasion that is a 4 day Easter weekend. Stag and I are actually hosting our first Easter lunch tomorrow for friends. We’ve got our menu covered (I’m making this bun&butter pudding, Stag’s doing the lamb). But, in an epic panic the day before, I’m still frantic about our table decorations! Normally I’d just lust over magazine-like pictures and call it a day — like my Thanksgiving table decor post. But this time, I actually want to make my table look Easter-bunny proud — without spending a fortune or a lot of time. Some of us just aren’t that crafty.
This post is an ode to the Land of the Free, where quite literally, you are free to order 40 oz (1136.52 ml) of milkshake from ColdStone Creamery in one giant cup, because it’s your god-given right to do so. A summation of 7.5 years of living abroad as an expat where — whenever anyone asks me what I miss most about America, and they expect me to say, you know, ‘family and friends’ — my immediate response is “Dunkin Donuts Coconut Iced Coffee” with my eyes just a bit too wide with wistfulness. Having just returned from my East Coast trip, this post is about the 5 things I miss most about America. My forever homeland, the purveyor of fatty foods and elevator chats, and the place I relish in both loving and mocking. Mostly loving.
This post is a mix of things. Firstly, I’m jet-lagged, thus fuelling a state of total non-productivity (which of course excludes activities such as browsing the ASOS sale and watching SATC reruns). Secondly, I’m behind on my blog posting schedule, which always makes me anxious. And thirdly, there’s a semblance of warm outside, bolstering an incessant need to buy new and update everything I own. Combined, this leads me to trawl Pinterest looking for pretty pictures of summery leaf-print interiors, curbing my appetite to buy new things. Thanks Pinterest.
This post is a little more life-rambling than most of my usual ones, but bear with me. It’s something I just want to get off my chest and talk about with you, my friends. This post is all about regrets, and why I don’t really have them anymore — mostly because I found Stag, and I just assume all roads led to that life-partner fork-in-the-road.
Sure, I have small ones here and there. For example: “Why on earth did I grab that boiling-hot bowl of baked beans from the microwave without oven mitts?” which I now say to myself bitterly whenever I remember we only have 4 actual bowls left in the flat. And yes, I am pretty much ‘Queen of FOMO.’ But life-altering regrets? I used to – financial ones, career ones, perhaps even moving to the UK ones – but not anymore.