Nov 16 2012

If I burn the house down, it will be on purpose

Ok, so Friday was spent with friends and Saturday with old people. And as life goes on, I am slowly realising that people my age are constantly repeating themselves, whereas the aged have the skills, knowledge and experience that allows them to truly have fun. With this important conclusion in mind, I’ll go back to the beginning and explain why my terrorist group will only recruit old people and why Saturday Night Live would be a million times better if hosted in a seniors home.

Last Friday I met up with a few friends and went out for drinks. The stories, the usual. One went cycling this week, another one is climbing regularly now — and which one is the best type of exercise for building up muscle? They are still a couple, but he made a move on this other girl last week, when they were both drunk of course, so they can’t remember anything now. I didn’t call him back when he left a message and pretended to have forgotten all about his birthday — not to come across clingy. Men like independent women and The Master is coming out this week. It should be good to see, Paul Anderson is a genius. Besides, who isn’t when you’re our age?

The night ended with a bunch of drunken retards fighting, girls crying in the bathrooms with their hair all over the place and their shoes in their hands. Taxis nowhere to be found. Some racist comments, some sexist remarks. But it will all be good tomorrow, cause no one will remember anything. And of course, a few of us recently converted to Buddhism.

My generation is out of ideas.

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Jan 17 2012

Morning Glory

Am I the only one who thinks that it is too early in the morning for some things?…

A few days ago, I decided to attend a dance class that was scheduled for 8.30 in the morning. I woke up just after 8, got dressed quickly, and rushed to the school as fast as I could. Not having had anything for breakfast and being almost half asleep still, I just stood in a corner, as everyone slowly gathered and cheerfully exchanged hellos. As we began warming up, the woman in front of me gradually caught my attention. Bleached hair, loads of jewellery hanging from every part of her body, covered in thick make-up, she started touching herself in strange places, repeating every now and again “bellissimo”, in a deep, sexy voice. I turned and looked at the others, unsure of what was happening. Of course nobody was even looking, nobody thought that this was strange, and once again I was alone in this.

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Dec 16 2011

Of Our Elaborate Plans, The End.

I realised today that a love story is not officially over until it’s over. And when do you know for sure that it is over? When you are included in a mass email.

This morning I woke up, made my breakfast, and sat in front of my computer to write. Being in a romantic mood, I thought perhaps I’d write about freedom, beauty, truth and love, but once again the cynical world out there made a noticeable appearance through my e-mails. Seeing the name of a strong past love as the sender in one of them, I all at once felt warm, and opened it with a loving smile, only for that smile to suddenly freeze on my face when I started reading it. Looking more like Joker than Angeliki, I quickly realised that it was a mass e-mail, sent to everyone the guy knew, which said the following: ‘Good morning all, I hope you’re having a good day, and an even nicer winter so far! The spring is now almost here and the summer will soon follow’. ‘Thanks for the insight’, I whispered to myself, seeing the million different reasons for which that man was an ex. ‘I hope to see you all guys soon and we get the chance to catch up. Have a great day’. Having completely destroyed any possibility of me having a good day, I left the flat and went to meet a friend in order to complain.

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Nov 15 2011

Till the End of the Day

How much time should one spend with another person? How long is too long? When do you run out of things to say? Can you spend 24/7 with someone and still find him/her interesting, funny and exciting?

According to a recent U.S. research, no. According to me, it highly depends on the person you are spending your time with.

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Oct 21 2011

Deadly Disease

“There’s only one fatal disease, I’ve concluded.  It’s called hypochondria. And it is deadly”. Keith Richards

I was writing in my flat the other day, enjoying the beautiful warm sun shining through my big windows, listening to Neil Diamond, finally seeing a potential good day ahead of me, when the phone rang. “Hey grandma, how are you”? She exhaled. “Angeliki, be honest with me… Are you drinking enough pomegranate juice”? I held back from sharing all my thoughts with her. “No, grandma. I really am not”. It turned out I should have lied. “Angeliki, listen to me. This is not a joke. This is not something to write on your blog about. This is your health, this is your body. Do you know what I heard? I found out that pomegranate juice saves you from breast cancer, prostate cancer –”. “I think I’m safe in that area grandma”… “It protects the bones, the teeth, the heart. Do you know that if you drink two glasses of pomegranate juice a day you have 50% less chances of having a heart attack”? “Grandma, why would I ever have a heart attack? I’m 29 years old, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t drink coffee –” She immediately went crazy. “Yes Angeliki, but you don’t drink pomegranate juice either”! I sighed. “No, that’s true. I don’t”. “And I can’t help but worry”… I left her for a few seconds to calm down. “In any case, I went to the supermarket today and bought a few kilos of them. You see, I haven’t given up on myself completely”. “Ok, grandma”… “I don’t like playing around with my health, you see”…

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Sep 15 2011

Love is a Crime

There has always been a specific issue troubling every woman and every man out there and that is the question of when one knows for sure that he/she has met the one. I get all my girlfriends asking me “do you think he’s the man I should spend the rest of my life with?”, or “how can you tell when a person is right for you? How do you know for sure”? I also get the same from all my guys friends: “How do I know that I didn’t just walk past the woman of my dreams this morning on my way to work?”, or the classic “does such a thing as a soulmate even exist”?

Well, I’ve thought about it long and hard, I’ve researched the issue and I finally have an answer. Such a thing as a soulmate exists and there is a very good way to tell who it is that you are meant to spend the rest of your life with.

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Aug 28 2011

Trivial Pursuit

Some people can draw. Others can sing. And then there’re those others that can come up with questions even in the most hopeless, obvious and non-requiring-questions situations. Those people will never be left without a job.

Last week, Theo, Georgia and I left Corfu, where we had spent a few days, to come down to Athens. On the bus for three hours at the time, and with six more hours to go, my aunt called to check up on me. “How is everything, have you left Corfu”? “Yes, we are on our way down, we have six hours left, so I should be in Athens around 11pm”. “That’s good, so we’ll talk tomorrow, after you’ve settled in the flat and everything”. I promised her I’d call to check in the next day and hung up.

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Aug 12 2011

The Munsters

What I find interesting is that the majority of people are afraid of being alone and feel safe when staying close to their families, but at the same time they become needier and more insecure after spending time with relatives and strong and comfortable when they stay away from them for extended periods of time. So, what exactly is it that makes people feel safe around relatives in the first place? And at what point does this change and we move onto the dangerous side? When do families switch from comforting and warm, to intimidating and spooky?

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Jul 22 2011

Love in the time of Cholera

I know I’ve left you for a while without a blog post, but someone needs to write those dark and politically incorrect scripts out there, and since none of you is willing to do it, I was left with the dirty work. I’m back, however, and here’s what has bothered me lately.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but not telling me you love me and not reminding me I’m beautiful, doesn’t really make me less attractive or lovable, it just makes you more of an idiot. Isn’t this right?

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Jun 22 2011

Don’t call me baby

How on earth did we find ourselves here again? Don’t we ever learn?…

This morning I had to find it in me to attend a friend’s piano performance. Not wanting to leave my cool flat and expose myself to this unbearable heat, I wore my lightest dress, put on my sunglasses to hide my miserable and bored-of-life face, and left the house together with my one and only friend: My big bottle of ice-cold water. When I arrived there, I did my best to act like there was nowhere else I wanted to be: ‘Hey, Christian!’, I said enthusiastically as I approached my friend. He immediately stopped me from hugging him using his hand, and smiled to the people around, awkwardly. ‘Hi, hi, good to see you made it. Listen, don’t start going around introducing yourself to people, hugging them, kissing them etc, ok? This is a serious music recital, these people are not here to join your comedy club, this not something to laugh about, this is art, ok’?

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