I (heart) new beginnings

Courtesy: Quest for Life Foundation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am looking forward to seeing the back end of 2011. Yep, once the countdown begins I will eagerly be waving goodbye to the year that was.

2011 has been one crazy year! I’ve probably experienced more emotions during 2011 than I possibly will for the rest of my life. I have been excited, stressed, distraught, elated, happy, sad, crazy, angry, mellow…and sometimes all in one day. But with a new year, comes a new leaf…and if the ups and downs of 2011 have taught me anything, it’s that I need to start seeing the glass half-full.

So I’m starting from now…cos let’s face it…no one likes a Grinch on Christmas Day.

And once the countdown to 2012 begins, hand on my heart I promise to hopefully keep the following New Year resolutions:

1. Positivity me – yep, that is my new phrase. Goodbye pessimism, hello optimistic. I am going to start making people sick with my “turn the other cheek”, “isn’t life grand” outlook on the world. Besides, life is too short to worry about the small things, so I’m saying goodbye to my fickle self!

2. Motivate me – There is no more room for excuses. In 2012 I will be hitting the gym, loosing weight, making a start on my dream of writing a novel, blogging more, volunteering more, creating more (mostly cos I promised my man that the £95 spent on sewing classes will not go to waste) and doing more. Because I want more out of life, I’m going to get motivated to get more out of life.

3. Loving me – if anyone has suffered this past year from our up’s and down’s, it has been my man. I love him, more than he possibly knows, and adore him for not walking out the door when I’m sure many times he has wanted to. So here is to more love, more time to ripping my clothes off, more time to passion, and laughing and us! After all, it is also the year of our wedding, and I’ll be damned if we aren’t making people vomit on the day with our cheesy love!

4. Making a stand – if 2011 has proven anything, it is the power of people. Never before have we seen more people rise up for what they believe in. And they are right, whether their cause is worthwhile or not, they are doing what all of us should do publically and personally…stand up for ourselves. My cause may not be as great as some, but I plan to spend 2012 standing up for my beliefs and supporting causes that help with these issues. I am blessed to have a good life, and feel that I should give more to help others…and in 2012, that is what I shall do!

So there is my top four things I plan to achieve in 2012. Only four, but four grand ideals to make life better and help me achieve my goals before turning 30. My list could possibly go on for much longer, but hey, I highly doubt 2012 will be the year of miracles!

So goodbye 2011…you will not be missed.

2012 already promises to beat your skinny white arse.

Yep I confess…I am a pessimist

 I’ve become a pessimistic! No, actually, I am a pessemistic.

 And I don’t care who finds out. I’m telling you all now with my hand raised in the air…my name is Pamela Brombal and I am possibly the world’s most pessemstic person!

Don’t know when or why it started, but seemingly everything and anything annoys me these days. One minute I’ll be completely fine and loving life, and the next, I’ll feel my blood boil inside of me and the steam start to pour out of my ears. Hang on, that just sounds like I’m angry. Nope, it’s just a by-product of being pessemstic.

So here is a list of the top 5 things that raise the roof on my tolerance levels:

1. Facebook – the so called social network is anything but. If I have to read one more f*cking time about “I’m having so much fun”, “I’m so sick of being ill”, “My child took a shit today”, “Had the worst day, need a wine” and “thanks to my hubby for being the best in the world” – I may just blow a gasket! I am pretty sure that when Mark Zuckaberg envisioned Facebook, he would have pulled the pin on the idea had he read some of my sister-in-laws posts first!!

 

 

 

 

 2. People – yep that’s right, people. And not all people, just the ones that are rude, selfish, self-centered, talk about themselves too much, bump me out of the way on the tube, and those who consider themself so self important that they have forgotten all social skills.

3. The weather – if it is freezing cold, wet and raining, then I am miserable. Enough said.

 

 

 

 

 

4. Families – there is a reason for the saying “you can choose your friends but not your families” and unfortunately that is oh so true.

5. Being out of control – currently my life resembles something like a car crash. I don’t live where I want to live, or work where I’d like to work, or socalise with people that I like. And I feel helpless to change it because our situation dictates that we have to be here, and I have to work here. So until February, when I’m back in control, I’m stuck in the back seat!

Other than that, I think I can be quite positive…and possibly fun to be around. It’s just some days the weight of the world feels like a ten tonne boulder…and I’m weak as shit!

Don’t expect Kate Moss…it will just be plain old me!

618 days to go…

In two days I will be jetting off home. I treated myself and booked a holiday back to Australia for one of my best friends weddings. Plus it gives me a perfectly good excuse to get away from two things in particular:

1. Miserable London – it has certainly started to get chilly and being from Australia, I really don’t know how to dress properly for an approaching English winter. Oh, looks kind of grey outside, I’ll pop on a cardigan is my usual thought! Of which I soon find myself looking like a complete dick amongst others dressed in scarves and wooly jackets.

2. My job – if I don’t have a holiday, I think I may simply die of boredom!! Or I’ll run up a huge debt on our credit card from all the online shopping. Boredom-purchasing is the worst of all!

As much as I am looking forward to the warm reception of friends and family, I am fearing their perception of how my life in London should be and how I must have changed…

Let me explain:

“Oh London, the fashion must be amazing”, “You must be so cosmopolitan now, London is so cool”, “Gosh you must be so slim with all that walking you are doing and no car…how do you get by”…yes, phrases like these are a constant when talking to friends and family back home.

And don’t get me wrong, I don’t come from a small knee-slapping, wheat-chewing, country town. Australia can be hip. Just not as hip as London.

So I have this thing, that I must go home looking cooler than when I left. I must step off the plane in a casual yet stylish outfit that could only be pulled off by someone from London. Only problem is…I only have the clothes I came here in, I’ve gained about 5kg where I’ve replaced working for eating, and I’m too broke to buy anything in time.

Deep down I know that I’ll be received with just as open arms…it will just be me that feels I’m not holding up my end of the London bargain!

Although I could always blame it on the threat of another looming recession. With all the protests around London these days and the papers filled with warnings about an imminent recession…perhaps its becoming hip to just be plain old me!!

Or maybe, my gorgeous, love of my life, did I mention amazingly sexy fiance might let me buy something new…(My gosh I hope he’s being truthful when he says he reads my blogs)!

So cya later mate (that’s goodbye in my language)…I’m off down-under…hopefully a heat wave comes unexpectantly and I can just get around in my bikini…oh wait, I’ve become too fat for that! Damn recession…don’t you know I’m a worry-eater!

xx

Look out, there’s a man in the kitchen

623 days left…

 

Something odd happened in our household on Wednesday night.

 

I have seen it once, maybe twice before…

 

My man cooked!

 

Yep, not just toast or heating up a can of soup, he actually cooked a meal, and an edible one at that! As I watched on from the lounge room, pretending to read, but secretly spending the whole time peering over the edges of my book, I looked on in wonder.

 

There he was, t-shirt off to avoid overheating (and perhaps setting himself alight), he worked with the fury of a man possessed. Moving quickly and frantically across the kitchen floor, grabbing saucepans, spoons, stirring, watching, precisely measuring the gravy. It was like a scene out of Kitchen Nightmares. I was just waiting for Gordon Ramsey to burst through our front door and fly into a rage about the sauce being to salty, the bench unclean!

 

With no Gordon in sight, I myself was just dying inside to go up and have a peak, offer a few tips. It is amazing the rage I feel inside me when other people cook and I watch in dismay. How can the meal be right when you’ve chopped the onion rather than diced it? Your carrots are too thick to be called julienne! No, that’s way too much vinegar on the salad! Don’t stir clock-ways it’s should be done like this! Yes, my evil Italian cooking demon comes out of me in the kitchen!

 

Just as I was about to speed dial the take-away shop, my doubts at his cooking ability (and the thought of being food poisioned) were soon thrown out the window and we sat down to one lovely Shepherd’s Pie and salad. And it was delicious. Delicious enough that my man has now nominated himself to be the weekly Wednesday night chef.

 

It will be a nice change, although I am slightly dreading, handing over control of my kitchen.

 

Call me old fashioned but the kitchen is my domain. I love to cook. I love how just by starting with sauteing onions and garlic, the drama of the day suddenly disappears. And hearing those words “wow, this tastes amazing” “oh this is good” coming from the mouth of my satisfied man, I start to feel all giddy inside – while my Italian ancestors let out a resounding “Amen” from up above.

 

Yes, cooking is my thing, it is my stress reliever, a way to feel in touch with my Italian heritage and a way to please my man…except for Wednesday nights where you’ll find me locked in our room, rocking back and forth in panic at the thought of my man in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables all the wrong way!

Welcome to our own little London abode

626 days left…

 

Five days have passed since my last blog and therefore I am 5 days closer to turning 30!

 

Last weekend the fiance and I moved leaps and bounds in our attempt to get settled in London. Not sure if I’ve explained our situation so far, but I’m an Australian, yep I come from the land down-under, and have moved to London with my born-and-bred English chap. We, like most international couples, have yet worked out quite where we fit…London or Australia…rain or sun…bangers and mash or shrimp on the bbq…marmite or vegemite…losers or winners (I’m sure you can tell where my allegiance lies)!

 

So having spent the past five years in Australia – and before we hit the dreaded age barrier where they don’t allow you in range of the country unless your under 30 – we packed up our sweet life and scarce belongings at the thought of hitting London-town.

 

Trouble is…what you imagine things are going to be like in your head, are rarely how things are in reality. We arrived in summer, and I use the term ‘summer’ in very loose terms, and were high on the adrenalin of festivals, the close proximity to Europe, cheap travel and limitless ways to spend our time and pounds in the big bustling city.

 

Our reality on the other hand went instead something like this:

 

1. The Global Financial Crisis is definitely not over (and far from it) making the possibility of getting A job, let alone a job in our field of expertise, a bit like finding gold and the end of a rainbow…exactly, it doesn’t exist!

 

2. Spending time and money in the big bustling city going to museums, art exhibitions, gigs, etc is only possible if you have a job, and therefore, have money! Even if you are broke, unless you own a bike and live in close proximity to the city, you can not afford the astronomical price of the London tube!

 

3. Finding a house…again, unless you have a job, don’t bother applying, or if you can’t wait, you need to give in to the fact that you will have to share a shoebox with 10 plus strangers. Unfortunately, we were not willing to do the latter, and the luxury of a 1-bed flat only applied to the employed.

 

So with no job, no money and no prospects of finding either one soon, we stayed longer than hoped with the in-laws! What was meant to be a 3-week plan, ended up lasting 6 months! Until 2 days ago, when we moved into our own little abode!

 

Life is definitely much more rosy when you have your own space to call home. Okay it’s not the type of place that we’ll be boasting about or sending photos of to friends back home, but it is ours, it’s all we can afford…and we can walk around naked, fight in peace, make love anywhere and just be us!

 

So with sanity restored, life in London is looking a little homelier…I’ll just have to fix the relationship with the in-laws later…for now I’m enjoying a bath (with the door open)!

 

xx

Sticking with it

631 days till I’m 30…

So this is now my second blog…and I’ve been counting the hours until I had time to get back on here and write. And I must say, I love it. I love that my thoughts have found a place to live, even if no one but me and my gorgeous fiancé (thanks babe!) are my only readers.

Sticking with things is not something that comes easy to me. Okay, so I’ve finished primary school and highschool, but that is definitely not feat worth boasting about. Nobody was more surprised than me when I actually finished university. Four years and there it was, in my hot little hand, a rolled piece of paper. I held it like it was the Olympic torch. And to me it was. It was the first time I had really felt like I had accomplished something.

You see I’m one of these people, and without sounding big-headed, who is good at most things, but great at not much at all! I start things, get bored and then never finish. I have all intentions of becoming an Olypmic swimmer, a fashion designer, a writer, a novelist, a screen writer, a business owner, an artist…and then can never really get motivated enough to get beyond an idea and into production.

And on the rare chance that I do take something further than the first date…just give me two weeks and I’ll drop it like a bad smell! One idea down, another already creeping into my mind!

This is definitely not a talent, in fact it’s a curse, and something I don’t like about myself.

So with the clock ticking, my goal for the next 631 days, is to change my habit of ditching things when the going gets tough. That’s right…I want to be one dedicated woman…and I’m starting with this blog!

I have become a clock watcher…

This is me…this is who I have become. At 28 years old, I have started worrying about, thinking about and watching clocks! And not in any weird way – I haven’t suddenly started filling every inch of space of wall within our flat with weird and wacky clocks – I instead hear there irrirating tick-tock in my head.

Let me explain…

Today, Tuesday the 25th of October 2011, from this precise moment, in 633 days, I will turn 30. And for some reason, I can feel the onset of the dreaded 3 0, breathing down my neck! I don’t have a fear of getting old, of wrinkles (well maybe I’m slightly hoping they find a way for botox to last forever), or of even death, I just have a fear of not accomplishing everything I have ever wanted before I turn 30.

It’s all the sudden this sense of urgency, that time is running out and clocks are a tick-tocking!

And so it started:

At Work: I used to be a journalist, when my life used to have meaning! Now, in a new city, a new life, I have a new job. In possibly the world’s most boring of offices, I sit for hours on end, watching the clock…and f*ck me, does it tick slowly! Which gets you thinking, about everything from life to how many particles of dust have fallen on my desk in the last 30 minutes. Thankfully, as much as I hate my job, it also allowed me to start this blog!

My life: Like I said, I’m 28 – I have a family whom I adore, friends I think of equally, I’ve met the love of my life (more about him later), I have an education, I’ve travelled…lived, loved and laughed…but blah, blah, blah…I’m always wanting more. I keep thinking that what I’ve acheived so far is just a mere scratch. I want more…more, more, more! Surely, there is more to life than this…that is the golden ticket, the winning answer, the ta-dah moment. This is what I aim to discover.

My relationship: Man of my dreams. Handsome, smart, funny and kind, my word is he kind. And I love him. But I keep pushing, pushing for more…for our house, our life, for fun, for excitement, for more memories, for a nest egg, a bit for a rainy day, for adventure, security…and for…

My body: in finishing off the above sentence…for babies. Once a woman hits her late-20’s, there is something inside that starts you worrying. It’s the ultimate tick-tock. If you’ve spent your life like I have mine – partying, travelling, drinking, studying and being selfish – then you are now what doctors call high-risk if you do not start opening your legs and reproducing soon! And my gosh…just the thought keeps me wide awake at night!

So this is my journey, my countdown till I’m 30…and all of what life might bring!

xx