Into the moment


During the entire week, I’ve been telling myself than I need to wake up earlier that 10ish (and 11ish even), but have hardly made a conscious effort to meet that 9 o’clock wake up call. When I say hardly, I mean I haven’t even set any alarms, because I falsely convince myself it will happen naturally (of course the other reason is that my Thai-bought cell phone, only has annoying ringtones that are pretty much the equivalent of waking up to the racket of pots and pans, but with an Asian twist). Today, lo and behold, I woke up at 8.30 a.m. and in my disbelieving excitement that my biological clock had finally set itself right, I tried to transmit this excitement to my sleeping boyfriend, who could hardly understand what I was on about through his sleep-heavy eyelids. Enthusiasm diminished, I turned the other way and went back to sleep.

When we woke up at our regular 11ish time, we surprisingly managed to do everything we have always been saying we’d do on Saturdays but have never done until today.┬áSaturdays are usually unrealistically inflated with all this hope and ambition of things we want to achieve, but secretly know we won’t. Today we were just more determined than usual and as a result I experienced the chaos and disorder of your average Greek farmer’s market for the first time, bought freshly-baked bread from the best bakery in town, got a new piercing and shopped at our local (evil) conglomerate for convenience’s sake. All this, while we trudged through what seemed to be the whole distance of Crete.

I have a thing with piercings, but I ┬áthink this will be my last one. Of course that’s what I said about my other “last one” two years ago, and look at me now. It’s hard pretending I mean such absolute statements, when I know the impulsive bug in me just won’t stay put. I like to kid myself like that.

I have been making some more jewelry with the new beads I got in the mail last week, but have yet to take some good photos of them. When I sit down to bead I actually get so into it that time sort of freezes and so does my brain actually, because I completely forget what it is I was doing before I picked up the pliers, the beads and whatever else. I call it Beading Alzheimer’s, and the only cure I know of is more beads, please.

Where Saturday takes me


Woke up, checked weather. Forecast for today – sunny. I didn’t need another reason to convince me to go out and catch up on my Vitamin D. Decided to take Sylvia (ibook) along for some writing and coffeeing. On the way stopped by indie bead shop and bought a handful (make that a baby handful) of beads.

I’d been meaning to buy something from this place – The Polytechnic. It offers some basic supplies and the guy who owns it runs kids’ workshops that basically encourage creative expression. It’s very anything-goes mood in there, and I’ve wanted to buy some beads to support what his doing. Checked this one off the list today. Got a ziplock to prove it.

Then I stumbled onto a charity shop that’s always closed when I walk past it. Universe conspired today – it was open. I went in, lured by shelves of second-hand books but restrained self. Found awesome pair of sunnies which were too tight and prone to giving me a headache. At only EUR 1.50, I was almost willing to pay my cheap way to uncomfortable pain, but some kind of internal alert went on and I was out of there before seriously getting carried away.

Ended up doing said writing, and along came friends and the morning walk became a day-long exit. The night ended with juggling, some paper planes and a headache.

With or without sunglasses, it came.

Tomorrow, I’m going to toy with these beads.