Let Us Have Love And More Love

Soroosh and I had the mutual idea of having a long-distance date this Valentine’s Day. Two average internet connections and two takeaway salmon and avocado (poor guy doesn’t even like either) sushi boxes later, we managed to pull it off on my lunch break (his dinner). And it was so lovely and he looked so handsome and I will always remember it. But you must know (and I want to vent about it) that our long-distance relationship isn’t always idyllic. Like, I really dislike only getting to hear of the parts of his life he deems significant enough to tap out over Messenger. I want to know ALL of the details and especially the so-called insignificants…
Though I must say, it is rather romantic knowing someone on the other side of the world is picturing your face every night before falling asleep in bed. 
Let us have love and more love; a love that melts all opposition, a love that conquers all foes, a love that sweeps away all barriers, a love that aboundeth in charity, a large-heartedness, tolerance, forgiveness and noble striving, a love that triumphs over all obstacles. ~Abdu’l-Bahá

Be Patient Towards All That Is Unsolved In Your Heart. Learn To Love the Questions Themselves.

I’ve had some pretty memorable Valentine’s Days. For my very first V day, I received a giant Winnie The Pooh from my very first boyfriend. I was 12. When we broke up, three months into the relationship (lol), I gifted Winnie to my best-friend’s sister. Almost a year later, when I felt my teenage heart had finally recovered, I desperately wanted the giant Pooh back. He was so big, so expensive but I didn’t have the nerve to ask my best-friend nor her sister.

For the next 5 Valentine’s Days, I received a single red rose from a “secret” admirer. On the 5th year, I caught my dad placing a red rose on our front door step. What a dude! I was both angry and appreciative.

Then there were the two Valentine’s Day’s with my ex – I guess he was my first “real” boyfriend because I actually loved him. Both years I posted pictures of his flowers and his red velvet boxed chocolates on my social media pages. I was so in love! I was the luckiest girl eva! That is until I wasn’t. The next couple V day’s I struggled seeing my friends’ flowers, chocolates, bracelets and other puke-inducing surprises. Bunch of F’in bullshit, I said. So I wrote a blogpost about it. I talked about the destructive affects of our Facebook and Instagram pages and how we all know that our friends only post their happy creme de la creme moments – we know this because we do the exact same – but even with this knowledge, we can’t help but to compare our lives to theirs. I questioned why we as a society feel the urge to publicise our significant others’ romantic gesture.  As if these precious occasions, these special moments would lose their significance if they are not “shared”. I ended my rant with the realisation that it should really be the opposite. That our rarest, most unique and intimate moments should be unpublished. Solely reserved to be shared (as in real life shared not FB shared) and treasured between us and our significant other.

Four months later, I was introduced to the love of my life on the internet. We were/still are messaging every day (but I’ve finally met him, he’s not an imaginary friend!). Soroosh had become a fan of my blog and a frequent commenter. One day he asked me if I’ve ever experienced a unique moment that I haven’t documented? One that I’ve kept sacred just for my self. It got me thinking. It reminded me of that post I wrote on V day. Who was this guy with the profound questions? So I set out on a mission, I went for a walk without my camera and then I wrote THIS. Seven months later, he continues to inspire my day to day. So, before I get too soppy and start contradicting myself, I just want to say that love and happiness or whatever it is your heart desires, is out there. We just gotta be a little more patient. We ought to learn to love the questions themselves. It’ll happen.

Speaking of lurve, it was my parents’ 30th wedding anniversary the other day. Speaking of anniversary’s, on Sunday I sold ice-cream to a lady on her 50th wedding anniversary day. She said she and her husband married at 17. “What’s your secret?” I asked. She said, deep breaths!

This gorgeous butterfly is my Valentine’s Day present for this year. I’m not bragging about it because I don’t even have it yet. Soroosh is going to safely transport it with him when he moves to NZ. It is a dried Peruvian butterfly in a simple frame. I think the wings look like different galaxies in space.

Another note on singledom, I remember complaining to my sister, pre-Soroosh stage when she said, you shouldn’t reserve your love for one person. Why don’t you show all this love you talk about to your family and friends instead? So I had a lovely picnic with my mother yesterday. We drank coffee, we read and we ate cake. All in our tiny backyard, too. The chocolate and raspberry mousse cake is from Le Panier.

“I am all the time thinking about poetry and fiction and you.” (Virginia Woolf) Yes, you!

A love poem

If I am a noodle
then you
are the broth
if you are a lantern
then I
am your moth.

Social Media on Valentines Day

I wrote this exactly one year ago and not one person “liked” it. Yes, I do see the irony in that statement. Shush! New followers, let’s change that ;)

By now, we are all aware of the destructive affects of social media: Facebook, Instagram and so on. We all know that our friends only post their happy moments; their crème de la crème times. We know this because we do the exact same. Looking at my own Facebook page, I recently posted a bathroom selfie in my interview dress, a picture of myself holding a “yay” sign at my sister’s wedding and a photo of my best friend and I on my Graduation Day. What I didn’t publicise to the internet world was completely blanking out when asked my first interview question or the horrific wardrobe malfunction I experienced with my Maid of Honor dress (let’s just say the fitting room lighting did a great job at hiding its see-throughness!) nor did I post about bursting into tears when I felt the entire world (weather, time, my own body etc) was acting against my expectations on graduation.

Valentines Day. During my past relationships, I posted pictures of my jumbo sized pooh bear, my actual-velvet box of chocolates, my dozen red roses and my V Day steak. What I didn’t post about was patently hinting for those specific gifts sometimes 2 months prior, the many pointless arguments in between the gifts (always sparked by mundane matters) and the awkward “how would you like to pay? separately or together” moments at the restaurant counter.

Only now, after residing in singleton/town for a some time have I began to understand the damaging potential of such archetypal, seemingly perfect V day posts on social media. The great Theodore Roosevelt’s advises us that, “comparison is the thief of joy”. This we’ve all heard and all know to be true yet still cannot help but do. In fact, I think it’s borderline impossible not to see our lives (and ourselves) as inferior compared to the individuals who’ve just received 100 red roses and/or a surprise getaway to Vanuatu. And even if deep down, we know that that (roses/Vanuatu) is not their complete reality, we cannot help but think so. We compare. I know I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not being cynical. I’m merely sharing my own personal thoughts. For if our significant other gifts/surprises us with or plans for us a (insert romantic gesture here) what is it that drives us to share this particular act with the internet world? We as a generation (myself included) place so much effort in publicising our seemingly flawless moments (not just on V day but undoubtedly, these posts are more prominent during this holiday) that it almost feels as if these precious occasions, these valuable affairs would lose their significance if they’re not “shared”. Put not so politely; how f’d up is that?

Which is why I’ve come to the realisation that it should really be the opposite, shouldn’t it? Maybe our rarest, most unique and intimate moments should be unpublished. Solely reserved to be shared (as in real life shared not FB shared) and treasured between us and our significant others. Isn’t that what makes such moments so special in the first place? I know what you’re thinking, that I’m picking on V day because I’m single and bitter and heck, that may very well be the case but… All I know is, Valentines Day is a couple week away and it wouldn’t hurt if we thought twice before hitting the ‘post’ button. Though there is an exception if I happen to meet my future lover in the next 12 days and he gifts me something awesome.

The Intern: A Movie Review

Building on from my Valentines Day post, I think Nancy Meyer’s new movie, The Intern makes a suitable first date film and that is all.

In my opinion, it is the baby-food of the movie world. That is, it’s easily digestible, in fact, watching it, you do not need to use your brain at all and often times, flavorless and monotone. Except, for the occasional sweet blueberry or two (let’s call them Zack Pearlmans) that find their way through, The Intern doesn’t have much going for it at all. Why? Well, I’d say, watch it for yourself and you’ll know but since I don’t like wasting your time (oh no she didn’t) I’m-ma just go ahead and tell you:

1. It is trying too hard to be cool. Packed to the rim with modern stereotypes (hipster office-space, stay-at-home dad, career woman vs. judgemental stay-at-home moms, sickly adorable child, social media, social media, social media), it’s almost uncool.
2. Unrealistic relationships. SPOILER ALERT: her husband cheats on her and they get back together as if he’d simply misplaced her hairbrush. Sure, these things happen and people resolve their issues, they forgive and forget but not that soon? Surely, not?
3. It’s too long. Thirty min shorter and it could have been good.

To close on a good note, Anne Hathaway’s outfits, her office-space and De Niro’s face are pretty cute.

2.9/5

I Hate Japanese Valentines Days

This isn’t another bitter single-gal post, I promise. Japanese Valentines Days actually sck and in a big way. I’m serious. Well, it sucks for the girls because on V day, it’s the girls and only the girls who are to gift chocolates to the MEN. Yep, the tables turn and in a big way. So all this chocolate, all these fancy boxes with even fancier wrappings, are all for HIM! Lame.

But, in their defence, one month later, on March 14th, the Japanese celebrate/participate in a Japanese only (I think) celebratory day called White Day, which is when men are supposed to give return gifts to the women who had gifted them a month prior. Which, is kind of unfair seeing as you HAVE to give to take…Hehe.

Below are pictures from the chocolate expose of the Tenmaya Department Store in Okayama (floor 6) where there are 100 different varieties of fancy chocolate, including TESTERS. Yes, testers! Go, go, go!

Click HERE for more information.