Planning 2015: Where is the Time Going?

Behold! An image of no particular greatness, but which nevertheless sums up this stage in my life quite well. You see, this year is turning out to be quite the undertaking, encompassing a new job, house renovations (note the paint sample on the wall) and….what else…oh yeah I’m GETTING MARRIED. Did I mention that before?

I spent last year living with my Dad and away from my partner, but instead of regressing, I was determined to do a spot of growing up in 2014. As a result have totally overhauled the way I live my life. I’m aware that sounds terribly dramatic (I’m a drama teacher…sue me!) but I have changed a couple of fundamental things in my life, which means my life genuinely looks and feels different. I have a lovely home that I am so proud of, and a life that I am determined to make the most of. So I’m tidy now (shocked gasps) and I am genuinely, genuinely organised.

Or beginning to be. I’ve been on about 800 time management courses, and after all of them the one thing I have taken away is that keeping on top of things is a constant project. I’ve decided to make the most of what is left of this year, and begin Operation Smash 2015 In The Guts right now.

 

My Weekend Has Been Spent #7

• Starting as I meant to go on, by attending a really wonderful production of Fleabag at the Marlowe Studio in Canterbury. A great show, and I’ll post a proper review soon!
• Attempting to take a discreet selfie – proof that I really did go out on a Friday night! Yes, me! I went out!
• Waking up Saturday morning to breakfast hand prepared and delivered by Mr Hello. He don’t half treat me well, don’t he!
• Attacking the spare room. Still not complete, but at least now it’s tidy enough that I have evidence that there is a bed in there! We’re hoping to get the walls and ceiling replastered and painted soon, so it looks even more presentable before some guests descend for the wedding.
• Heading into Rochester to pay the deposit for our wedding rings. We are getting them from Kaizen Antiques, a jeweller on the High St. Lovely shop, lovely service, terrrrrrible website.
• Taking our luncheon at the institution of Pizza Express. We got a lovely private table and partook of some rather delicious food. Many despise any chain restaurants or stores on our historic High Street, and while I can see the point, it’s also hard to argue with something like Pizza Express, that has consistently good food and good hygiene standards, when other local businesses get very poor hygiene ratings indeed! Blergh.
• Taking some more surreptitious selfies in PE. Proof I was out of the house!
• Heading back home for an afternoon nap that turned into an early night.
• Waking on Sunday morning bright and early – getting the ol’ body clock back into gear now that I have a new job! (PS I have a new job! Starting in April)
• Improvising a breakfast pizza which was weird and delicious but being unable to share the ingredients with you because you will judge me – you definitely will.
• Heading to the gym because I am sad and I have a dress to fit into, goddamn it.
• Taking a turn about TK Maxx with the chap. Two new frying pans being the result.
• Heading home and changing into my “no-one must see me in these” clothes in preparation for:
• Deep cleaning the house from top to bottom. God this task is very dull but somehow immensely satisfying.
• Cooking a roast that worked (yay) and Yorkshire puds for the first time that also worked (double yay)!
• Sitting on my derriere for the rest of the evening, watching Call the Midwife & Poldark. Quite satisfactory indeed.
• Grabbing my laptop to write this. I’m really keen to keep the blogging mojo a-flowing.

Next weekend my goals are to actually leave the house properly and possibly even talk to someone who is not a cat or my future husbo! Chance of success remains to be seen. Hope you had a fab weekend – I am terribly nosey so if you fancy chatting in the comments please do!

How to be Parisian (and also: How Not To)

I have extreme doubts that this confession in any way distinguishes me from the general public, but regardless; it is well known in certain circles that I have a bit of a ‘thing’ for Paris. I would even go so far to say that Paris is my spiritual home. I feel like if I am good enough in this life, I may be lucky and reincarnated into my true, French form in the next. A girl can hope, hey?

This Christmas I was lucky enough to receive How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are by Sophie Mas, Audrey Divan, Caroline de Maigret and Anne Berest from my aunt. You could say that she knows me well. The lady knows how to spot a Francophile at 20 paces, let’s just put it like that, ok?

In all honesty, I completely devoured this book. It’s written in short, pithy chapters and takes you through first dates, friendships, marriage, men, and dinner parties with even a few tried ‘n true recipes thrown in for good measure. It is very tongue-in-cheek but honestly, that’s what I liked about it. It makes fun of itself, in that the authors know it’s ridiculous to want to be a Parisienne, because in some (many) respects, they themselves are faintly ridiculous. But they just do it with style.

I really recommend this book if you’re into a bit of French fun, and secretly believe that having a signature scent really is quite chic.

As a bonus for you all, here’s how to not be very Parisian when you’re taking photos. Even if your leggings are really rather splendid:

If you could be any other nationality, what would it be?

The Little Traditions

I don’t know if it’s the New Year fabulousness that’s going on around me at the moment, or whether it’s got something to do with getting MARRIED THIS YEAR and the prospect of starting my own family, but this week I’ve thought a lot about the traditions of my family.

Last night was spent with these two lovely women, and we played cards, drank wine and ate delicious snacks. It dawned on me that I’ve experienced a version of this night many, many times before in my life. You see, we’re a card playing family. From a tender age I had card rules and etiquette drummed into me, especially by my slightly terrifying Grandpa with the booming voice.

I haven’t played cards in a long time, and so last night was a balm to my soul. I’ve felt unsettled since Mr Hello left, as the reality of leaving Australia soon myself becomes more and more apparent. I miss our family traditions. I don’t feel so far apart from my loved ones when I have traditions to ground me.

‘Our’ game is called May I, which is a relation of Big Bertha, Frustration and Rummy. We have played it for as long as I can remember, even when I was so small that the 11 cards were too much for my tiny hands to hold. I’d like to teach it to Mr H, and keep this card playing ritual alive. After all, he’s going to be a part of the family very soon, so he better get with the program before it’s too late 😉

Do you have any family traditions that make you feel connected?

 

Wedding Planning: The Dress

I found my dress about two days after getting engaged. It sounds utterly ridiculous, I know. The whole process of finding what is to be the frock I’ll wear when I go from Ms to Mrs has been incredibly painless and totally without setting foot in a bridal store. Go figure.

I know it’s not the done thing these days to admit you’ve thought about your wedding day for a long time. But to hell with being embarrassed, let’s be completely honest here – it had crossed my mind on a not-infrequent basis over the years. To the point where after I found out about Love My Dress, I began to regularly read, despite being three er, a couple of years out from getting engaged. For a long time I imagined having as fancy a shindig as possible, but by the time the concept of getting married had become more realistic, my tastes had changed and I began to naturally lean towards a simpler, much more chic aesthetic.

Gah, I am desperado to show you a picture of my wedding dress, but I know for a fact that Mr Hello reads this here blog and I want to maintain a bit of mystery for the grand day itself. So…as a compromise I have created the collages below, to give you an idea of my personal style, and maybe even a hint or two…

What do you think? Any favourites?

I was a little bit afraid that having bought my dress online I would feel like I had missed out on the bridal shop experience. Being a bride often feels like a real rite of passage, and I don’t want to miss out on meaningful experiences with my Mum or my sister, or in fact any of the significant women in my life. I was a little bit concerned that a one-time opportunity had been missed, before I came to the realisation that I genuinely despise clothes shopping with other people. I feel self conscious about my body, and I question my own style when I ask other people for their opinion, so in the harsh light of day, perhaps the decision to choose my dress from the comfort and relative privacy of my own laptop was for the best.

Soon after our engagement I was casually Googling wedding dresses, you know, like a totally normal person. When I saw a picture of my wedding dress, I knew within a second that it was the one for me. What I didn’t realise at the time (but did shortly after) was that it was also the wedding dress of a bride from one of my favourite real wedding features on Love My Dress (nope, not linking to it you cheeky thing!). But as luck would have it…..it was a 3 year old dress, and the company making it had sold out. Noooooooooo. This is where it took me a little more time to actually buy the dress I’d somehow chosen immediately. I hit up eBay, with no joy, then PreLoved, also no joy there, and the threads of desperation started to get their sneaky hands on me before at last, I found one in my size on OnceWed. With nary a second’s hesitation I send off an enquiry email. Happily, within a few weeks I had bought it from the lovely Bonnie in Virginia, US, who not only sourced the best postage deal for me, but sent me a beautiful engagement card along with my dress in its original packaging. It was very special. Now OnceWed uses Escrow.com for all financials, as supposedly it’s much safer than PayPal. In the end, Bonnie and I used PayPal to seal the deal and I had absolutely no problem. I can’t vouch for others, but I had a great experience.

Luckily for me, my dress is actually everything I never really knew that I wanted. Buying a secondhand dress actually feels really meaningful, almost as if it’s already a happy dress. That it gets to be a part of more joy, and in turn brings more joy with it. On top of that, it cost me $650 (£350) including shipping. Not shabby at all!

For The Love of Cake

Time for some totally unrelated snaps and another round up of dubious interest to you all. The scale of this weekend has been quietly epic, and I find myself reeling from the emotional highs and lows, that is, I would if reeling consisted of 90 minutes’ semi-inebriated blog reading.

DOWN:

My father was rushed to hospital earlier in the week and while he appears to be thankfully on the mend, I just about lost my shit thinking terrible thoughts waiting in the emergency department at 6:30am Saturday morning. Parents aren’t supposed to feel pain. They’re supposed to be mercifully invincible, at least I’m pretty sure that’s what it said on the tin. A big DOWNer for this weekend, that’s for sure.

I am one week away from qualifying as a teacher, and whilst in itself this is an UP, I am so enormously fatigued by the whole experience that my enthusiasm for having any career that does not involve laying in bed is at an all time low. This is really a dreary post, I do apologise.

The requisite teenager type whinge: because my Dad has been unwell, I haven’t had the opportunity to drive anywhere as I need someone with a license to accompany me as a condition of my learner’s permit. This is a serious drag, I was just getting the hang of the whole ‘driving’ thing, and I confess I am rather less willing to put up with general public transport goings on. My life is dragging before my eyes.

I have to fly to the other side of the GD country (Sydney) to submit my application for a Polish passport. Quite inconvenient, given the size of Australia, and also quite expensive. A nice little surprise too, don’t you just love it. I wish my agent had mentioned it at some point, you know, in the whole freaking year we’ve been working together.

Mr Hello is STILL IN ENGLAND which is entirely expected, but becoming rather less acceptable every day. For god’s sake if you ever want to have some kind of pleasant life, do NOT for the LOVE OF CAKE get into a long distance relationship. Your perception of everything becomes skewed by constantly looking through god-this-is-boring coloured glasses. Three weeks and three days. Come at me bro.

UP:

3 WEEKS AND THREE DAYS.

ONE WEEK until I have a bonafide career. Soon the whole “gizza job” debacle will commence, but ho, delightfully not a problem for a few more weeks.

I haven’t looked at my bank balance for a few days so let’s pretend I am rich! Huzzah! Cake for everyone.

I went for a drink with A, my mentor teacher on prac and had rather a nice glass o’ wine. It really is pleasant meeting new people and getting to know them. I really enjoyed myself and the show was wonderful. It was Those Who Fall In Love Like Anchors Dropped Upon The Ocean Floor at The Blue Room Theatre in Northbridge. Utterly charming, a lovely and innovative set and delightful performances by all. Definite thumbs up.

Another pleasant thing happened that night, come to think of it. I had been telling A at school that my favourite play of all time is in fact The Crucible by Arthur Miller, and that I’d seen a wonderful production of it at the now-demolished Playhouse Theatre in Perth. I also saw the production starring Richard Armitage at The Old Vic in London earlier this year – production in the round, totally delightful – and lo and behold, A’s friend who was with us was Mary Warren in the Perth production, alongside on of the stars of Those Who Fall in Love! How weird is that? Spooksville if you ask me.

On that note, this is where I leave you. I am not at my finest right now, but if I can eke out the last of my motivation to last this week, I will make it. Time for a cuppa.

What Does Success Look Like?

We’ve spent part of this semester at university talking about assessing our future students, and how the way we assess has an effect on our student’s success. Sharing ‘success criteria’ with our students improves their performance – sounds obvious I know, but it was a bit of an eye opener for me. Knowing what success looks like, and knowing what you need to do to be successful means it’s easier to achieve it. Talk about woah.

It got me thinking, what does success criteria for life look like? I’m not so sure that it still looks the same as it did 20 years ago, hell, even 10 years ago when I was daydreaming about being an adult! When I was 16 I thought success was being an actress on stage, in a slinky frock at awards events. I thought success was having people think you’re great and telling you constantly.

Some people think success is having a few extra zeroes on the right side of their bank balance, and some think it’s having that corner office with the view. Others find themselves out of the workforce in their late 50’s but sleep easy knowing that they raised human beings that they’re proud of.  I know the huge amount of work that all of those types of success require, but I’ve also come to terms with the fact that they’re not the absolute definition of success for me.

What’s my definition? I’ll show you:

 

 

Good food, a happy home, two lovely cats (formerly an oxymoron), a lover whom I adore and a brand new career ahead of me.

It was a long and winding road to get here, and it sure would have been a weight off my mind if someone had come up to me five years ago and said “Here. Here are the things that will make you happy. Do life like this”. There are times when I wish someone had, but more often I think I wouldn’t have listened, and just thundered on regardless. We value things when we know how hard we worked to get them, and that they came at some sort of cost.

It might not be the done thing to decide that you’re successful at 26 when you’re still in university and not earning a wage. But on this bright, cool Tuesday morning while I am avoiding my last paper due on Friday, I say to hell with it. I’m celebrating the successes I’ve had so far in my life, and looking forward to many more, no matter what shape they take.

Dual Citizenship Baby!

Yesterday I received the happy news that my application for Polish citizenship has come through at last. I was lucky to be eligible through my heritage, as my grandparents were Polish refugees before they settled in Australia permanently. I pursued this route because I wanted to stay in the UK, where I’d built a life for myself, but I also wanted to be there on my own two feet so to speak, with the same responsibilities and rights as a British citizen. No immigration issues means that my marriage is focussed on the love I share with my partner, not my need to get a slip of paper from the government. This news also means that I can start to work in time for the UK Term 2, which will be fantastic and gives me the opportunity to settle into a job properly before the wedding.

Getting the news gave rise to some really profound emotions. Over this year, while back in Australia in my Grandmother’s house, I’ve reconnected to their history and the story of their journey. My great aunt wrote a memoir about their time in Russia, Kazakhstan, Iran and Uganda, which was incredibly insightful and made me realise how different my life could have been if my family had not been so resilient. It was hard enough choosing to become an immigrant when I knew I could always return home if I wanted: I can hardly imagine how difficult it must have been to realise you could never go home. Even if you did, the country you loved was no longer the same.

I feel so proud, lucky and grateful to call myself Polish. I feel as though I don’t really deserve it. I feel as though this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m looking forward to spending some more time in Poland once I’ve settled back in Europe.

Now for some photos of the people I have to thank for this great day:

 

My grandparents, Henryk and Halina.

 

 

Wedding Planning: So it Begins

I’ve told a little fib already, in that I cannot in all honestly claim that I (we) have only just begun to plan the wedding. When Mr Hello and I became engaged over my three week pitstop in England in July, we made the most of the time I was there and used the last few days to make some crucial decisions.

It all happened really quickly, easily in fact, in the beginning. We had a shared vision of the kind of wedding we pictured for ourselves: simple, elegant, modern, and that favourite chestnut of wedding blogland (don’t judge me) a day that was “us”. We found a reception venue first, a local art gallery and tearoom that we could hire over a weekend. It will be their first wedding hire, which is quite exciting too if I am honest, and unlike most of the other venues that I saw in Kent, neither a barn, grand estate house nor a village hall. We’re a pretty contemporary couple. Despite my love for all things vintage – Mr Hello has a bit of a penchant for objet d’art of time gone by too I might add – I just couldn’t picture myself in another kind of venue. It would feel like dress ups, and that thought made me wriggle uncomfortably in my skin.

So we progressed. We were unsure of the date, hoping for a little more time to save and recoup after our year apart, but being quite the international couple we had to take into account when family could travel, and so it began to seem more likely that 2015 was the year. I have to say as well, once we’d found the reception venue it was hard to not feel overwhelmed with excitement and want to plan everything right now. We took a little spin around some civil service venues in our town, and before we knew it, we’d decided. A local wedding. A local contemporary wedding, in the town where we live. With the people we love. What could really be more us?

Now we’re apart, wedding planning isn’t quite so straightforward, and decisions have honestly not been quite so mutual. There were disagreements and terse conversations, and all of a sudden the wedding didn’t seem like quite so much fun to talk about. It became something that was our default conversation, to the point that we sort of stopped having a relationship. It’s hard enough as it is to feel connected to someone when you live on the other side of the world, and damn near impossible because you’re mad at them for not budging on some insignificant wedding detail. A pause was most certainly required. So we paused, we waited, we stopped talking nuptials for a month or so. Now the talking is coming back a little, but not so much that we have nothing else to talk about, and slowly we’re finding a path forward together, making decisions we’re both happy with to a certain extent.

So. The fun part. who wants a sneak peek of our wedding motif? We’re not doing a theme as such, but have something that will be echoed throughout the day. Friends, esteemed colleagues, I give you:

That’s all, folks!

 

Mr Hello designed it (among other things) in over a week or so. Without giving the game away, I feel compelled to say that this boy is so damned clever, I think I might keep him. I know – it doesn’t really give you all that much information, but HECK, that’s part of the fun of it! More will be revealed soon…

Bon Fête des Pères!

A little blurry film photo, but you get the idea

  We went for a walk this morning, and somehow ended up in Karrakatta cemetery. “Let’s have a look,” I said, “maybe we can find your Dad!”. Having never met the man nor seen the grave, I was perhaps a little enthusiastic. We walked amongst the headstones, as he wasn’t quite sure where it was after all these years. After a few semi-confident expressions of “I think this is the place”, at last a name, in a language I can’t understand, jumped out at me. Despite the barrier, it was intensely familiar, and I silently sounded out the syllables. A moment spent in silence, he brushed the end of the tomb with his hand. We walked home, taking the long way. He told me all about native flowers, and I listened. Happy Father’s Day Papa, I couldn’t be more grateful for you.